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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Works of Aphra Behn
+       Volume V
+
+Author: Aphra Behn
+
+Editor: Montague Summers
+
+Release Date: August 30, 2009 [EBook #29854]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF APHRA BEHN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Louise Hope, Wendy Bertsch and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[This e-text comes in three forms: Unicode (UTF-8), Latin-1 and ASCII-7.
+Use the one that works best on your text reader.
+
+  --If “œ” displays as a single character, and apostrophes and
+  quotation marks are “curly” or angled, you have the UTF-8 version
+  (best). If any part of this paragraph displays as garbage, try
+  changing your text reader’s “character set” or “file encoding”.
+  If that doesn’t work, proceed to:
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+  “rôle” and “mêre” have accents and “æ” is a single letter. Apostrophes
+  and quotation marks will be straight (“typewriter” form). Again, if
+  you see any garbage in this paragraph and can’t get it to display
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+  --The ASCII-7 or rock-bottom version. All necessary text will still be
+  there; it just won’t be as pretty. Note that in the Introduction to
+  “Agnes de Castro”, the name “Constança” has a cedilla and “Peñafiel”
+  has a tilde.
+
+In the printed book, all notes were grouped at the end of the volume.
+For this e-text, they have been placed after their respective stories.
+The _Epistle Dedicatory_ to _Oroonoko_ was printed as an Appendix. In
+keeping with the editor’s intention (see second paragraph of Note),
+it has been placed immediately before the novel.
+
+Where appropriate, cross-references from other volumes of the Complete
+Works are quoted after the Notes. The “N.E.D.” (New English Dictionary)
+is now known as the OED.
+
+Typographic note: In the printed book, all references to plays give the
+Act in lower-case Roman numerals and the Scene in small capital Roman
+numerals; the two look identical except for the dots over the i’s. For
+this plain-text version, the conventional “IV, iv” sequence was used
+instead. Italic passages used Roman type for emphasis; this is shown
+as +Name+.]
+
+
+
+
+                   THE WORKS
+
+                       of
+
+                   APHRA BEHN
+
+
+                   Edited by
+                MONTAGUE SUMMERS
+
+                     VOL. V
+
+  The Black Lady -- The King of Bantam
+  The Unfortunate Happy Lady -- The Fair Jilt
+  Oroonoko -- Agnes de Castro
+  The History of the Nun -- The Nun
+  The Lucky Mistake -- The Unfortunate Bride
+  The Dumb Virgin -- The Wandering Beauty
+  The Unhappy Mistake
+
+
+       [Illustration: (Publisher’s Device)]
+
+           LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
+        STRATFORD-ON-AVON: A. H. BULLEN
+                     MCMXV
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+[See Transcriber’s Note at beginning of text for handling of Notes
+and Appendix.]
+
+                                                            Page
+
+  The Adventure of the Black Lady                              1
+  The Court of the King of Bantam                             11
+  The Unfortunate Happy Lady: A True History                  35
+  The Fair Jilt                                               67
+  Oroonoko; or, The Royal Slave                              125
+  Agnes De Castro                                            209
+  The History of the Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker           257
+  The Nun; or, The Perjur’d Beauty                           325
+  The Lucky Mistake                                          349
+  The Unfortunate Bride; or, The Blind Lady a Beauty         399
+  The Dumb Virgin; or, The Force of Imagination              415
+  The Wandering Beauty                                       445
+  The Unhappy Mistake; or, The Impious Vow Punish’d          469
+  Appendix                                                   507
+  Notes                                                      513
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE ADVENTURE OF THE _BLACK LADY_.
+
+
+About the Beginning of last _June_ (as near as I can remember)
+_Bellamora_ came to Town from _Hampshire_, and was obliged to lodge the
+first Night at the same Inn where the Stage-Coach set up. The next Day
+she took Coach for _Covent-Garden_, where she thought to find Madam
+_Brightly_, a Relation of hers, with whom she design’d to continue for
+about half a Year undiscover’d, if possible, by her Friends in the
+Country: and order’d therefore her Trunk, with her Clothes, and most of
+her Money and Jewels, to be brought after her to Madame _Brightly’s_ by
+a strange Porter, whom she spoke to in the Street as she was taking
+Coach; being utterly unacquainted with the neat Practices of this fine
+City. When she came to _Bridges-Street_, where indeed her Cousin had
+lodged near three or four Years since, she was strangely surprized that
+she could not learn anything of her; no, nor so much as meet with anyone
+that had ever heard of her Cousin’s Name: Till, at last, describing
+Madam _Brightly_ to one of the House-keepers in that Place, he told her,
+that there was such a kind of Lady, whom he had sometimes seen there
+about a Year and a half ago; but that he believed she was married and
+remov’d towards _Soho_. In this Perplexity she quite forgot her Trunk
+and Money, _&c_, and wander’d in her Hackney-Coach all over St. _Anne’s_
+Parish; inquiring for Madam _Brightly_, still describing her Person, but
+in vain; for no Soul could give her any Tale or Tidings of such a Lady.
+After she had thus fruitlessly rambled, till she, the Coachman, and the
+very Horses were even tired, by good Fortune for her, she happen’d on a
+private House, where lived a good, discreet, ancient Gentlewoman, who
+was fallen to Decay, and forc’d to let Lodgings for the best Part of her
+Livelihood: From whom she understood, that there was such a kind of
+Lady, who had lain there somewhat more than a Twelvemonth, being near
+three Months after she was married; but that she was now gone abroad
+with the Gentleman her Husband, either to the Play, or to take the fresh
+Air; and she believ’d would not return till Night. This Discourse of the
+Good Gentlewoman’s so elevated _Bellamora’s_ drooping Spirits, that
+after she had beg’d the liberty of staying there till they came home,
+she discharg’d the Coachman in all haste, still forgetting her Trunk,
+and the more valuable Furniture of it.
+
+When they were alone, _Bellamora_ desired she might be permitted the
+Freedom to send for a Pint of Sack; which, with some little Difficulty,
+was at last allow’d her. They began then to chat for a matter of half an
+Hour of things indifferent: and at length the ancient Gentlewoman ask’d
+the fair Innocent (I must not say foolish) one, of what Country, and
+what her Name was: to both which she answer’d directly and truly, tho’
+it might have prov’d not discreetly. She then enquir’d of _Bellamora_ if
+her Parents were living, and the Occasion of her coming to Town. The
+fair unthinking Creature reply’d, that her Father and Mother were both
+dead; and that she had escap’d from her Uncle, under the pretence of
+making a Visit to a young Lady, her Cousin, who was lately married, and
+liv’d above twenty Miles from her Uncle’s, in the Road to _London_, and
+that the Cause of her quitting the Country, was to avoid the hated
+Importunities of a Gentleman, whose pretended Love to her she fear’d had
+been her eternal Ruin. At which she wept and sigh’d most extravagantly.
+The discreet Gentlewoman endeavour’d to comfort her by all the softest
+and most powerful Arguments in her Capacity; promising her all the
+friendly Assistance that she could expect from her, during _Bellamora’s_
+stay in Town: which she did with so much Earnestness, and visible
+Integrity, that the pretty innocent Creature was going to make her a
+full and real Discovery of her imaginary insupportable Misfortunes; and
+(doubtless) had done it, had she not been prevented by the Return of the
+Lady, whom she hop’d to have found her Cousin _Brightly_. The Gentleman,
+her Husband just saw her within Doors, and order’d the Coach to drive to
+some of his Bottle-Companions; which gave the Women the better
+Opportunity of entertaining one another, which happen’d to be with some
+Surprize on all Sides. As the Lady was going up into her Apartment, the
+Gentlewoman of the House told her there was a young Lady in the Parlour,
+who came out of the Country that very Day on purpose to visit her: The
+Lady stept immediately to see who it was, and _Bellamora_ approaching to
+receive her hop’d-for Cousin, stop’d on the sudden just as she came to
+her; and sigh’d out aloud, Ah, Madam! I am lost--It is not your Ladyship
+I seek. No, Madam (return’d the other) I am apt to think you did not
+intend me this Honour. But you are as welcome to me, as you could be to
+the dearest of your Acquaintance: Have you forgot me, Madame
+_Bellamora_? (continued she.) That Name startled the other: However, it
+was with a kind of Joy. Alas! Madam, (replied the young one) I now
+remember that I have been so happy to have seen you; but where and when,
+my Memory can’t tell me. ’Tis indeed some Years since, (return’d the
+Lady) But of that another time.--Mean while, if you are unprovided of a
+Lodging, I dare undertake, you shall be welcome to this Gentlewoman. The
+Unfortunate returned her Thanks; and whilst a Chamber was preparing for
+her, the Lady entertain’d her in her own. About Ten o’Clock they parted,
+_Bellamora_ being conducted to her Lodging by the Mistress of the House,
+who then left her to take what Rest she could amidst her so many
+Misfortunes; returning to the other Lady, who desir’d her to search into
+the Cause of _Bellamora’s_ Retreat to Town.
+
+The next Morning the good Gentlewoman of the House coming up to her,
+found _Bellamora_ almost drown’d in Tears, which by many kind and sweet
+Words she at last stopp’d; and asking whence so great Signs of Sorrow
+should proceed, vow’d a most profound Secrecy if she would discover to
+her their Occasion; which, after some little Reluctancy, she did, in
+this manner.
+
+I was courted (said she) above three Years ago, when my Mother was yet
+living, by one Mr. _Fondlove_, a Gentleman of good Estate, and true
+Worth; and one who, I dare believe, did then really love me: He
+continu’d his Passion for me, with all the earnest and honest
+Sollicitations imaginable, till some Months before my Mother’s Death;
+who, at that time, was most desirous to see me disposed of in Marriage
+to another Gentleman, of much better Estate than Mr. _Fondlove_; but one
+whose Person and Humour did by no means hit with my Inclinations: And
+this gave _Fondlove_ the unhappy Advantage over me. For, finding me one
+Day all alone in my Chamber, and lying on my Bed, in as mournful and
+wretched a Condition to my then foolish Apprehension, as now I am, he
+urged his Passion with such Violence, and accursed Success for me, with
+reiterated Promises of Marriage, whensoever I pleas’d to challenge ’em,
+which he bound with the most sacred Oaths, and most dreadful
+Execrations: that partly with my Aversion to the other, and partly with
+my Inclinations to pity him, I ruin’d my self.--Here she relaps’d into a
+greater Extravagance of Grief than before; which was so extreme that it
+did not continue long. When therefore she was pretty well come to
+herself, the antient Gentlewoman ask’d her, why she imagin’d herself
+ruin’d: To which she answer’d, I am great with Child by him, Madam, and
+wonder you did not perceive it last Night. Alas! I have not a Month to
+go: I am asham’d, ruin’d, and damn’d, I fear, for ever lost. Oh! fie,
+Madam, think not so, (said the other) for the Gentleman may yet prove
+true, and marry you. Ay, Madam (replied _Bellamora_) I doubt not that he
+would marry me; for soon after my Mother’s Death, when I came to be at
+my own Disposal, which happen’d about two Months after, he offer’d, nay
+most earnestly sollicited me to it, which still he perseveres to do.
+This is strange! (return’d the other) and it appears to me to be your
+own Fault, that you are yet miserable. Why did you not, or why will you
+not consent to your own Happiness? Alas! (cry’d _Bellamora_) ’tis the
+only Thing I dread in this World: For, I am certain, he can never love
+me after. Besides, ever since I have abhorr’d the Sight of him: and this
+is the only Cause that obliges me to forsake my Uncle, and all my
+Friends and Relations in the Country, hoping in this populous and
+publick Place to be most private, especially, Madam, in your House, and
+in your Fidelity and Discretion. Of the last you may assure yourself,
+Madam, (said the other:) but what Provision have you made for the
+Reception of the young Stranger that you carry about you? Ah, Madam!
+(cryd _Bellamora_) you have brought to my Mind another Misfortune: Then
+she acquainted her with the suppos’d loss of her Money and Jewels,
+telling her withall, that she had but three Guineas and some Silver
+left, and the Rings she wore, in her present possession. The good
+Gentlewoman of the House told her, she would send to enquire at the Inn
+where she lay the first Night she came to Town; for, haply, they might
+give some Account of the Porter to whom she had entrusted her Trunk; and
+withal repeated her Promise of all the Help in her Power, and for that
+time left her much more compos’d than she found her. The good
+Gentlewoman went directly to the other Lady, her Lodger, to whom she
+recounted _Bellamora’s_ mournful Confession; at which the Lady appear’d
+mightily concern’d: and at last she told her Landlady, that she would
+take Care that _Bellamora_ should lie in according to her Quality: For,
+added she, the Child, it seems, is my own Brother’s.
+
+As soon as she had din’d, she went to the _Exchange_, and bought
+Child-bed Linen; but desired that _Bellamora_ might not have the least
+Notice of it: And at her return dispatch’d a Letter to her Brother
+_Fondlove_ in _Hampshire_, with an Account of every Particular; which
+soon brought him up to Town, without satisfying any of his or her
+Friends with the Reason of his sudden Departure. Mean while,
+the good Gentlewoman of the House had sent to the _Star Inn_ on
+_Fish-street-Hill_, to demand the Trunk, which she rightly suppos’d to
+have been carried back thither: For by good Luck, it was a Fellow that
+ply’d thereabouts, who brought it to _Bellamora’s_ Lodgings that very
+Night, but unknown to her. _Fondlove_ no sooner got to _London_, but he
+posts to his Sister’s Lodgings, where he was advis’d not to be seen of
+_Bellamora_ till they had work’d farther upon her, which the Landlady
+began in this manner; she told her that her Things were miscarried, and
+she fear’d, lost; that she had but a little Money her self, and if the
+Overseers of the Poor (justly so call’d from their over-looking ’em)
+should have the least Suspicion of a strange and unmarried Person, who
+was entertain’d in her House big with Child, and so near her Time as
+_Bellamora_ was, she should be troubled, if they could not give Security
+to the Parish of twenty or thirty Pounds, that they should not suffer by
+her, which she could not; or otherwise she must be sent to the House of
+Correction, and her Child to a Parish-Nurse. This Discourse, one may
+imagine, was very dreadful to a Person of her Youth, Beauty, Education,
+Family and Estate: However, she resolutely protested, that she had
+rather undergo all this, than be expos’d to the Scorn of her Friends and
+Relations in the Country. The other told her then, that she must write
+down to her Uncle a Farewell-Letter, as if she were just going aboard
+the Pacquet-Boat for _Holland_, that he might not send to enquire for
+her in Town, when he should understand she was not at her new-married
+Cousin’s in the Country; which accordingly she did, keeping her self
+close Prisoner to her Chamber; where she was daily visited by
+_Fondlove’s_ Sister and the Landlady, but by no Soul else, the first
+dissembling the Knowledge she had of her Misfortunes. Thus she continued
+for above three Weeks, not a Servant being suffer’d to enter her
+Chamber, so much as to make her Bed, lest they should take Notice of her
+great Belly: but for all this Caution, the Secret had taken Wind, by the
+means of an Attendant of the other Lady below, who had over-heard her
+speaking of it to her Husband. This soon got out of Doors, and spread
+abroad, till it reach’d the long Ears of the Wolves of the Parish, who
+next Day design’d to pay her a Visit: But _Fondlove_, by good
+Providence, prevented it; who, the Night before, was usher’d into
+_Bellamora’s_ Chamber by his Sister, his Brother-in-Law, and the
+Landlady. At the Sight of him she had like to have swoon’d away: but he
+taking her in his Arms, began again, as he was wont to do, with Tears in
+his Eyes, to beg that she would marry him ere she was deliver’d; if not
+for his, nor her own, yet for the Child’s Sake, which she hourly
+expected; that it might not be born out of Wedlock, and so be made
+uncapable of inheriting either of their Estates; with a great many more
+pressing Arguments on all Sides: To which at last she consented; and an
+honest officious Gentleman, whom they had before provided, was call’d
+up, who made an End of the Dispute: So to Bed they went together that
+Night; next Day to the _Exchange_, for several pretty Businesses that
+Ladies in her Condition want. Whilst they were abroad, came the Vermin
+of the Parish, (I mean, the Overseers of the Poor, who eat the Bread
+from ’em) to search for a young Blackhair’d Lady (for so was
+_Bellamora_) who was either brought to Bed, or just ready to lie down.
+The Landlady shew’d ’em all the Rooms in her House, but no such Lady
+could be found. At last she bethought her self, and led ’em into her
+Parlour, where she open’d a little Closet-door, and shew’d ’em a black
+Cat that had just kitten’d: assuring ’em, that she should never trouble
+the Parish as long as she had Rats or Mice in the House; and so
+dismiss’d ’em like Loggerheads as they came.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Black Lady.
+
+
+p. 3 _Bridges-Street._ Brydges Street lies between Russell Street and
+Catherine Street. Drury Lane Theatre is at its N.E. corner. It early
+acquired no very enviable repute, e.g. In the Epilogue to Crowne’s _Sir
+Courtly Nice_ (1685) we have: ‘Our Bridges Street is grown a strumpet
+fair’; and Dryden, in the Epilogue to _King Arthur_ (1691), gave Mrs.
+Bracegirdle, who entered, her hands full of billets-doux, the following
+lines to speak:--
+
+  Here one desires my ladyship to meet  [_Pulls out one._
+  At the kind couch above in Bridges-Street.
+  Oh sharping knave! that would have--you know what,
+  For a poor sneaking treat of chocolate.
+
+p. 8 _Star-Inn on Fish-street-Hill._ Fish Street Hill, or, New Fish
+Street, runs from Eastcheap to Lower Thames Street, and was the main
+thoroughfare to old London Bridge, cf. 2 _Henry VI_, IV, viii: ‘_Cade._
+Up Fish Street! down St. Magnus’ corner! kill and knock down! throw them
+into the Thames.’
+
+p. 9 _the Exchange._ The New Exchange, a kind of bazaar on the South
+side of the Strand. It was an immensely popular resort, and continued so
+until the latter years of the reign of Queen Anne. There are innumerable
+references to its shops, its sempstresses and haberdashers. Thomas
+Duffet was a milliner here before he took to writing farces, prologues
+and poems.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE COURT OF THE KING OF _BANTAM_.
+
+
+This Money certainly is a most devilish Thing! I’m sure the Want of it
+had like to have ruin’d my dear _Philibella_, in her Love to _Valentine
+Goodland_; who was really a pretty deserving Gentleman, Heir to about
+fifteen hundred Pounds a Year; which, however, did not so much recommend
+him, as the Sweetness of his Temper, the Comeliness of his Person, and
+the Excellency of his Parts: In all which Circumstances my obliging
+Acquaintance equal’d him, unless in the Advantage of their Fortune. Old
+Sir _George Goodland_ knew of his Son’s Passion for _Philibella_; and
+tho’ he was generous, and of a Humour sufficiently complying, yet he
+could by no means think it convenient, that his only Son should marry
+with a young Lady of so slender a Fortune as my Friend, who had not
+above five hundred Pound, and that the Gift of her Uncle Sir _Philip
+Friendly_: tho’ her Virtue and Beauty might have deserv’d, and have
+adorn’d the Throne of an _Alexander_ or a _Cæsar_.
+
+Sir _Philip_ himself, indeed, was but a younger Brother, tho’ of a good
+Family, and of a generous Education; which, with his Person, Bravery,
+and Wit, recommended him to his Lady _Philadelphia_, Widow of Sir
+_Bartholomew Banquier_, who left her possess’d of two thousand Pounds
+_per Annum_, besides twenty thousand Pounds in Money and Jewels; which
+oblig’d him to get himself dubb’d, that she might not descend to an
+inferior Quality. When he was in Town, he liv’d--let me see! in the
+_Strand_; or, as near as I can remember, somewhere about
+_Charing-Cross_; where first of all Mr. _Would-be King_, a Gentleman of
+a large Estate in Houses, Land and Money, of a haughty, extravagant and
+profuse Humour, very fond of every new Face, had the Misfortune to fall
+passionately in love with _Philibella_, who then liv’d with her Uncle.
+
+This Mr. _Would-be_ it seems had often been told, when he was yet a
+Stripling, either by one of his Nurses, or his own Grandmother, or by
+some other Gypsy, that he should infallibly be what his Sirname imply’d,
+a King, by Providence or Chance, ere he dy’d, or never. This glorious
+Prophecy had so great an Influence on all his Thoughts and Actions, that
+he distributed and dispers’d his Wealth sometimes so largely, that one
+would have thought he had undoubtedly been King of some Part of the
+_Indies_; to see a Present made to-day of a Diamond Ring, worth two or
+three hundred Pounds, to Madam _Flippant_; to-morrow, a large Chest of
+the finest _China_ to my Lady _Fleecewell_; and next Day, perhaps,
+a rich Necklace of large Oriental Pearl, with a Locket to it of
+Saphires, Emeralds, Rubies, &c., to pretty Miss _Ogle-me_, for an
+amorous Glance, for a Smile, and (it may be, tho’ but rarely) for the
+mighty Blessing of one single Kiss. But such were his Largesses, not to
+reckon his Treats, his Balls, and Serenades besides, tho’ at the same
+time he had marry’d a virtuous Lady, and of good Quality: But her
+Relation to him (it may be fear’d) made her very disagreeable: For a Man
+of his Humour and Estate can no more be satisfy’d with one Woman, than
+with one Dish of Meat; and to say Truth, ’tis something unmodish.
+However, he might have dy’d a pure Celibate, and altogether unexpert of
+Women, had his good or bad Hopes only terminated in Sir _Philip’s_
+Niece. But the brave and haughty Mr. _Would-be_ was not to be baulk’d by
+Appearances of Virtue, which he thought all Womankind only did affect;
+besides, he promis’d himself the Victory over any Lady whom he
+attempted, by the Force of his damn’d Money, tho’ her Virtue were ever
+so real and strict.
+
+With _Philibella_ he found another pretty young Creature, very like her,
+who had been a _quondam_ Mistress to Sir _Philip_: He, with young
+_Goodland_, was then diverting his Mistress and Niece at a Game at
+Cards, when _Would-be_ came to visit him; he found ’em very merry, with
+a Flask or two of Claret before ’em, and Oranges roasting by a large
+Fire, for it was _Christmas-time_. The Lady _Friendly_ understanding
+that this extraordinary Man was with Sir _Philip_ in the Parlour, came
+in to ’em, to make the number of both Sexes equal, as well as in Hopes
+to make up a Purse of Guineas toward the Purchase of some new fine
+Business that she had in her Head, from his accustom’d Design of losing
+at Play to her. Indeed, she had Part of her Wish, for she got twenty
+Guineas of him; _Philibella_ ten; and _Lucy_, Sir _Philip’s_ quondam,
+five: Not but that _Would-be_ intended better Fortune to the young ones,
+than he did to Sir _Philip’s_ Lady; but her Ladyship was utterly
+unwilling to give him over to their Management, tho’ at the last, when
+they were all tir’d with the Cards, after _Would-be_ had said as many
+obliging things as his present Genius would give him leave, to
+_Philibella_ and _Lucy_, especially to the first, not forgetting his
+Baisemains to the Lady _Friendly_, he bid the Knight and _Goodland_
+adieu; but with a Promise of repeating his Visit at six a-clock in the
+Evening on _Twelfth-Day_, to renew the famous and antient Solemnity of
+chusing King and Queen; to which Sir _Philip_ before invited him, with a
+Design yet unknown to you, I hope.
+
+As soon as he was gone, every one made their Remarks on him, but with
+very little or no Difference in all their Figures of him. In short, all
+Mankind, had they ever known him, would have universally agreed in this
+his Character, That he was an Original; since nothing in Humanity was
+ever so vain, so haughty, so profuse, so fond, and so ridiculously
+ambitious, as Mr. _Would-be King_. They laugh’d and talk’d about an Hour
+longer, and then young _Goodland_ was oblig’d to see _Lucy_ home in his
+Coach; tho’ he had rather have sat up all Night in the same House with
+_Philibella_, I fancy, of whom he took but an unwilling Leave; which was
+visible enough to every one there, since they were all acquainted with
+his Passion for my fair Friend.
+
+About twelve a-clock on the Day prefix’d, young _Goodland_ came to dine
+with Sir _Philip_, whom he found just return’d from Court, in a very
+good Humour. On the Sight of _Valentine_, the Knight ran to him, and
+embracing him, told him, That he had prevented his Wishes, in coming
+thither before he sent for him, as he had just then design’d. The other
+return’d, that he therefore hoped he might be of some Service to him, by
+so happy a Prevention of his intended Kindness. No doubt (reply’d Sir
+_Philip_) the Kindness, I hope, will be to us both; I am assur’d it
+will, if you will act according to my Measures. I desire no better
+Prescriptions for my Happiness (return’d _Valentine_) than what you
+shall please to set down to me: But is it necessary or convenient that I
+should know ’em first? It is, (answer’d Sir _Philip_) let us sit, and
+you shall understand ’em.--I am very sensible (continu’d he) of your
+sincere and honourable Affection and Pretension to my Niece, who,
+perhaps, is as dear to me as my own Child could be, had I one; nor am I
+ignorant how averse Sir _George_ your Father is to your Marriage with
+her, insomuch that I am confident he would disinherit you immediately
+upon it, merely for want of a Fortune somewhat proportionable to your
+Estate: but I have now contrived the Means to add two or three thousand
+Pounds to the five hundred I have design’d to give with her; I mean, if
+you marry her, _Val_, not otherwise; for I will not labour so for any
+other Man. What inviolable Obligations you put upon me! (cry’d
+_Goodland_.) No Return, by way of Compliments, good _Val_, (said the
+Knight:) Had I not engag’d to my Wife, before Marriage, that I would not
+dispose of any part of what she brought me, without her Consent, I would
+certainly make _Philibella’s_ Fortune answerable to your Estate: And
+besides, my Wife is not yet full eight and twenty, and we may therefore
+expect Children of our own, which hinders me from proposing any thing
+more for the Advantage of my Niece.--But now to my Instructions;--_King_
+will be here this Evening without fail, and, at some Time or other
+to-night, will shew the Haughtiness of his Temper to you, I doubt not,
+since you are in a manner a Stranger to him: Be sure therefore you seem
+to quarrel with him before you part, but suffer as much as you can first
+from his Tongue; for I know he will give you Occasions enough to
+exercise your passive Valour. I must appear his Friend, and you must
+retire Home, if you please, for this Night, but let me see you as early
+as your Convenience will permit to-morrow: my late Friend _Lucy_ must be
+my Niece too. Observe this, and leave the rest to me. I shall most
+punctually, and will in all things be directed by you, (said
+_Valentine_.) I had forgot to tell you (said _Friendly_) that I have so
+order’d matters, that he must be King to-night, and _Lucy_ Queen, by the
+Lots in the Cake. By all means (return’d _Goodland_;) it must be
+Majesty.
+
+Exactly at six a’clock came _Wou’d-be_ in his Coach and six, and found
+Sir _Philip_, and his Lady, _Goodland_, _Philibella_, and _Lucy_ ready
+to receive him; _Lucy_ as fine as a Dutchess, and almost as beautiful as
+she was before her Fall. All things were in ample Order for his
+Entertainment. They play’d till Supper was serv’d in, which was between
+eight and nine. The Treat was very seasonable and splendid. Just as the
+second Course was set on the Table, they were all on a sudden surpriz’d,
+except _Would-be_, with a Flourish of Violins, and other Instruments,
+which proceeded to entertain ’em with the best and newest Airs in the
+last new Plays, being then in the Year 1683. The Ladies were curious to
+know to whom they ow’d the chearful part of their Entertainment: On
+which he call’d out, Hey! _Tom Farmer! Ale-worth! Eccles! Hall!_ and the
+rest of you! Here’s a Health to these Ladies, and all this honourable
+Company. They bow’d; he drank, and commanded another Glass to be fill’d,
+into which he put something yet better than the Wine, I mean, ten
+Guineas: Here, _Farmer_, (said he then) this for you and your Friends.
+We humbly thank the honourable Mr. _Would-be King_. They all return’d,
+and struck up with more Spriteliness than before. For Gold and Wine,
+doubtless, are the best Rosin for Musicians.
+
+After Supper they took a hearty Glass or two to the King, Queen, Duke,
+&c. And then the mighty Cake, teeming with the Fate of this
+extraordinary Personage, was brought in, the Musicians playing an
+Overture at the Entrance of the _Alimental Oracle_; which was then cut
+and consulted, and the royal Bean and Pea fell to those to whom Sir
+_Philip_ had design’d ’em. ’Twas then the Knight began a merry Bumper,
+with three Huzza’s, and, _Long live King +Would-be!+_ to _Goodland_, who
+echo’d and pledg’d him, putting the Glass about to the harmonious
+Attendants; while the Ladies drank their own Quantities among
+themselves, _To his aforesaid Majesty_. Then of course you may believe
+Queen _Lucy’s_ Health went merrily round, with the same Ceremony: After
+which he saluted his Royal Consort, and condescended to do the same
+Honour to the two other Ladies.
+
+Then they fell a dancing, like Lightning; I mean, they mov’d as swift,
+and made almost as little Noise; But his Majesty was soon weary of that;
+for he long’d to be making love both to _Philibella_ and _Lucy_, who
+(believe me) that Night might well enough have passed for a Queen.
+
+They fell then to Questions and Commands; to cross Purposes: _I think a
+Thought, what is it like?_ &c. In all which, his _Would-be_ Majesty took
+the Opportunity of shewing the Excellency of his Parts, as, How fit he
+was to govern! How dextrous at mining and countermining! and, How he
+could reconcile the most contrary and distant Thoughts! The Musick, at
+last, good as it was, grew troublesome and too loud; which made him
+dismiss them: And then he began to this effect, addressing himself to
+_Philibella_: Madam, had Fortune been just, and were it possible that
+the World should be govern’d and influenc’d by two Suns, undoubtedly we
+had all been Subjects to you, from this Night’s Chance, as well as to
+that Lady, who indeed alone can equal you in the Empire of Beauty, which
+yet you share with her Majesty here present, who only could dispute it
+with you, and is only superior to you in Title. My Wife is infinitely
+oblig’d to your Majesty, (interrupted Sir _Philip_) who in my Opinion,
+has greater Charms, and more than both of them together. You ought to
+think so, Sir _Philip_ (returned the new dubb’d King) however you should
+not liberally have express’d your self, in Opposition and Derogation to
+Majesty:--Let me tell you ’tis a saucy Boldness that thus has loos’d
+your Tongue!--What think you, young Kinsman and Counsellor? (said he to
+_Goodland_.) With all Respect due to your sacred Title, (return’d
+_Valentene_, rising and bowing) Sir _Philip_ spoke as became a truly
+affectionate Husband; and it had been Presumption in him, unpardonable,
+to have seem’d to prefer her Majesty, or that other sweet Lady, in his
+Thoughts, since your Majesty has been pleas’d to say so much and so
+particularly of their Merits: ’Twould appear as if he durst lift up his
+Eyes, with Thoughts too near the Heaven you only would enjoy. And only
+can deserve, you should have added, (said _King_, no longer _Would-be_.)
+How! may it please your Majesty (cry’d _Friendly_) both my Nieces! tho’
+you deserve ten thousand more, and better, would your Majesty enjoy them
+both? Are they then both your Nieces? (asked Chance’s King). Yes, both,
+Sir (return’d the Knight,) her Majesty’s the eldest, and in that Fortune
+has shewn some Justice. So she has (reply’d the titular Monarch): My Lot
+is fair (pursu’d he) tho’ I can be bless’d but with one.
+
+  _Let Majesty with Majesty be join’d,
+  To get and leave a Race of Kings behind._
+
+Come, Madam (continued he, kissing _Lucy_,) this, as an Earnest of our
+future Endeavours. I fear (return’d the pretty Queen) your Majesty will
+forget the unhappy _Statira_, when you return to the Embraces of your
+dear and beautiful _Roxana_. There is none beautiful but you (reply’d
+the titular King) unless this Lady, to whom I yet could pay my Vows most
+zealously, were’t not that Fortune has thus pre-engaged me. But, Madam
+(continued he) to shew that still you hold our Royal Favour, and that,
+next to our Royal Consort, we esteem you, we greet you thus (kissing
+_Philibella_;) and as a Signal of our continued Love, wear this rich
+Diamond: (here he put a Diamond Ring on her Finger, worth three hundred
+Pounds.) Your Majesty (pursu’d he to _Lucy_) may please to wear this
+Necklace, with this Locket of Emeralds. Your Majesty is bounteous as a
+God! (said _Valentine_.) Art thou in Want, young Spark? (ask’d the King
+of _Bantam_) I’ll give thee an Estate shall make thee merit the Mistress
+of thy Vows, be she who she will. That is my other Niece, Sir, (cry’d
+_Friendly_.) How! how! presumptious Youth! How are thy Eyes and Thoughts
+exalted? ha! To Bliss your Majesty must never hope for, (reply’d
+_Goodland_.) How now! thou Creature of the basest Mold! Not hope for
+what thou dost aspire to! _Mock-King_; thou canst not, dar’st not, shalt
+not hope it: (return’d _Valentine_ in a heat.) Hold, _Val_, (cry’d Sir
+_Philip_) you grow warm, forget your Duty to their Majesties, and abuse
+your Friends, by making us suspected. Good-night, dear _Philibella_, and
+my Queen! Madam, I am your Ladyship’s Servant (said _Goodland_:)
+Farewel, Sir _Philip_: Adieu, thou Pageant! thou Property-King! I shall
+see thy Brother on the Stage ere long; but first I’ll visit thee: and in
+the meantime, by way of Return to thy proffer’d Estate, I shall add a
+real Territory to the rest of thy empty Titles; for from thy Education,
+barbarous manner of Conversation, and Complexion, I think I may justly
+proclaim thee, _King of +Bantam+_--So, _Hail, King that Would-be! Hail
+thou King of +Christmas+! All-hail, Wou’d-be King of +Bantam+_--and so
+he left ’em.--They all seem’d amazed, and gaz’d on one another, without
+speaking a Syllable; ’till Sir _Philip_ broke the Charm, and sigh’d out,
+Oh, the monstrous Effects of Passion! Say rather, Oh, the foolish
+Effects of a mean Education! (interrupted his Majesty of _Bantam_.) For
+Passions were given us for Use, Reason to govern and direct us in the
+Use, and Education to cultivate and refine that Reason. But (pursu’d he)
+for all his Impudence to me, which I shall take a time to correct, I am
+oblig’d to him, that at last he has found me out a Kingdom to my Title;
+and if I were Monarch of that Place (believe me, Ladies) I would make
+you all Princesses and Duchesses; and thou, my old Companion,
+_Friendly_, should rule the Roast with me. But these Ladies should be
+with us there, where we could erect Temples and Altars to ’em; build
+Golden Palaces of Love, and Castles--in the Air (interrupted her
+Majesty, _Lucy_ I. smiling.) ‘Gad take me (cry’d King _Wou’d-be_) thou
+dear Partner of my Greatness, and shalt be, of all my Pleasures! thy
+pretty satirical Observation has oblig’d me beyond Imitation.’ I think
+your Majesty is got into a Vein of Rhiming to-night, (said
+_Philadelphia_.) Ay! Pox of that young insipid Fop, we could else have
+been as great as an Emperor of _China_, and as witty as _Horace_ in his
+Wine; but let him go, like a pragmatical, captious, giddy Fool as he is!
+I shall take a Time to see him. Nay, Sir, (said _Philibella_) he has
+promis’d your Majesty a Visit in our Hearing. Come, Sir, I beg your
+Majesty to pledge me this Glass to your long and happy Reign; laying
+aside all Thoughts of ungovern’d Youth: Besides, this Discourse must
+needs be ungrateful to her Majesty, to whom, I fear, he will be marry’d
+within this Month! How! (cry’d _King and no King_) married to my Queen!
+I must not, cannot suffer it! Pray restrain your self a little, Sir
+(said Sir _Philip_) and when once these Ladies have left us, I will
+discourse your Majesty further about this Business. Well, pray, Sir
+_Philip_, (said his Lady) let not your Worship be pleas’d to sit up too
+long for his Majesty: About five o’Clock I shall expect you; ’tis your
+old Hour. And yours, Madam, to wake to receive me coming to Bed--Your
+Ladyship understands me, (return’d _Friendly_.) You’re merry, my Love,
+you’re merry, (cry’d _Philadelphia_:) Come, Niece, to Bed! to Bed! Ay,
+(said the Knight) Go, both of you and sleep together, if you can,
+without the Thoughts of a Lover, or a Husband. His Majesty was pleas’d
+to wish them a good Repose; and so, with a Kiss, they parted for that
+time.
+
+Now we’re alone (said Sir _Philip_) let me assure you, Sir, I resent
+this Affront done to you by Mr. _Goodland_, almost as highly as you can:
+and tho’ I can’t wish that you should take such Satisfaction, as perhaps
+some other hotter Sparks would; yet let me say, his Miscarriage ought
+not to go unpunish’d in him. Fear not (reply’d t’other) I shall give him
+a sharp Lesson. No, Sir (return’d _Friendly_) I would not have you think
+of a bloody Revenge; for ’tis that which possibly he designs on you:
+I know him brave as any Man. However, were it convenient that the Sword
+should determine betwixt you, you should not want mine: The Affront is
+partly to me, since done in my House; but I’ve already laid down safer
+Measures for us, tho’ of more fatal Consequence to him: that is, I’ve
+form’d them in my Thoughts. Dismiss your Coach and Equipage, all but one
+Servant, and I will discourse it to you at large. ’Tis now past Twelve;
+and if you please, I would invite you to take up as easy a Lodging here,
+as my House will afford. (Accordingly they were dismiss’d, and he
+proceeded:)--As I hinted to you before, he is in love with my youngest
+Niece, _Philibella_; but her Fortune not exceeding five hundred Pound,
+his Father will assuredly disinherit him, if he marries her: tho’ he has
+given his Consent that he should marry her eldest Sister, whose Father
+dying ere he knew his Wife was with child of the youngest, left _Lucy_
+three thousand Pounds, being as much as he thought convenient to match
+her handsomly; and accordingly the Nuptials of young _Goodland_ and
+_Lucy_ are to be celebrated next _Easter_. They shall not, if I can
+hinder them (interrupted his offended Majesty.) Never endeavour the
+Obstruction (said the Knight) for I’ll shew you the Way to a dearer
+Vengeance: Women are Women, your Majesty knows; she may be won to your
+Embraces before that time, and then you antedate him your Creature.
+A Cuckold, you mean (cry’d King in Fancy:) O exquisite Revenge! but can
+you consent that I should attempt it? What is’t to me? We live not in
+_Spain_, where all the Relations of the Family are oblig’d to vindicate
+a Whore: No, I would wound him in his most tender Part. But how shall we
+compass it? (ask’d t’other.) Why thus, throw away three thousand Pounds
+on the youngest Sister, as a Portion, to make her as happy as she can be
+in her new Lover, Sir _Frederick Flygold_, an extravagant young Fop, and
+wholly given over to Gaming; so, ten to one, but you may retrieve your
+Money of him, and have the two Sisters at your Devotion. Oh, thou my
+better Genius than that which was given to me by Heaven at my Birth!
+What Thanks, what Praises shall I return and sing to thee for this!
+(cry’d King _Conundrum_.) No Thanks, no Praises, I beseech your Majesty,
+since in this I gratify my self--You think I am your Friend? and, you
+will agree to this? (said _Friendly_, by way of Question.) Most readily,
+(returned the Fop King:) Would it were broad Day, that I might send for
+the Money to my Banker’s; for in all my Life, in all my Frolicks,
+Encounters and Extravagances, I never had one so grateful, and so
+pleasant as this will be, if you are in earnest, to gratify both my Love
+and Revenge! That I am in earnest, you will not doubt, when you see with
+what Application I shall pursue my Design: In the mean Time, _My Duty to
+your Majesty; To our good Success in this Affair_. While he drank,
+t’other return’d, _With all my Heart_; and pledg’d him. Then _Friendly_
+began afresh: Leave the whole Management of this to me; only one thing
+more I think necessary, that you make a Present of five hundred Guineas
+to her Majesty, the Bride that must be. By all means (return’d the
+wealthy King of _Bantam_;) I had so design’d before. Well, Sir (said Sir
+_Philip_) what think you of a set Party or two at _Piquet_, to pass away
+a few Hours, till we can sleep? A seasonable and welcome Proposition
+(returned the King;) but I won’t play above twenty Guineas the Game, and
+forty the Lurch. Agreed (said _Friendly_;) first call in your Servant;
+mine is here already. The Slave came in, and they began, with unequal
+Fortune at first; for the Knight had lost a hundred Guineas to Majesty,
+which he paid in Specie; and then propos’d fifty Guineas the Game, and a
+hundred the Lurch. To which t’other consented; and without winning more
+than three Games, and those not together, made shift to get three
+thousand two hundred Guineas in debt to Sir _Philip_; for which Majesty
+was pleas’d to give him Bond, whether _Friendly_ would or no,
+
+  _Seal’d and deliver’d in the Presence of_,
+
+    The Mark of (_W._) _Will. Watchful_.
+    And, (_S_) _Sim. Slyboots_.
+
+  A couple of delicate Beagles, their mighty Attendants.
+
+It was then about the Hour that Sir _Philip’s_ (and, it may be, other
+Ladies) began to yawn and stretch; when the Spirits refresh’d, troul’d
+about, and tickled the Blood with Desires of Action; which made Majesty
+and Worship think of a Retreat to Bed: where in less than half an Hour,
+or before ever he cou’d say his Prayers, I’m sure the first fell fast
+asleep; but the last, perhaps, paid his accustom’d Devotion, ere he
+begun his Progress to the Shadow of Death. However, he waked earlier
+than his Cully Majesty, and got up to receive young _Goodland_, who came
+according to his Word, with the first Opportunity. Sir _Philip_ receiv’d
+him with more than usual Joy, tho’ not with greater Kindness, and let
+him know every Syllable and Accident that had pass’d between them till
+they went to Bed: which you may believe was not a little pleasantly
+surprizing to _Valentine_, who began then to have some Assurance of his
+Happiness with _Philibella_. His Friend told him, that he must now be
+reconcil’d to his _Mock-Majesty_, tho’ with some Difficulty; and so
+taking one hearty Glass a-piece, he left _Valentine_ in the Parlour to
+carry the ungrateful News of his Visit to him that Morning. King ----
+was in an odd sort of taking, when he heard that _Valentine_ was below;
+and had been, as Sir _Philip_ inform’d _Majesty_, at _Majesty’s_ Palace,
+to enquire for him there: But when he told him, that he had already
+school’d him on his own Behalf, for the Affront done in his House, and
+that he believ’d he could bring his Majesty off without any loss of
+present Honour, his Countenance visibly discover’d his past Fear, and
+present Satisfaction; which was much encreas’d too, when _Friendly_
+shewing him his Bond for the Money he won of him at play, let him know,
+that if he paid three thousand Guineas to _Philibella_, he would
+immediately deliver him up his Bond, and not expect the two hundred
+Guineas overplus. His Majesty of _Bantam_ was then in so good a Humour,
+that he could have made Love to Sir _Philip_; nay, I believe he could
+have kiss’d _Valentine_, instead of seeming angry. Down they came, and
+saluted like Gentlemen: But after the Greeting was over, _Goodland_
+began to talk something of Affront, Satisfaction, Honour, _&c._ when
+immediately _Friendly_ interpos’d, and after a little seeming Uneasiness
+and Reluctancy, reconcil’d the hot and cholerick Youth to the cold
+phlegmatick King.
+
+Peace was no sooner proclaim’d, than the King of _Bantam_ took his Rival
+and late Antagonist with him in his own Coach, not excluding Sir
+_Philip_ by any means, to _Locket’s_, where they din’d: Thence he would
+have ’em to Court with him, where he met the Lady _Flippant_, the Lady
+_Harpy_, the Lady _Crocodile_, Madam _Tattlemore_, Miss _Medler_, Mrs.
+_Gingerly_, a rich Grocer’s Wife, and some others, besides Knights and
+Gentlemen of as good Humours as the Ladies; all whom he invited to a
+Ball at his own House, the Night following; his own Lady being then in
+the Country. Madam _Tattlemore_, I think was the first he spoke to in
+Court, and whom first he surpriz’d with the happy News of his
+Advancement to the Title of King of _Bantam_. How wondrous hasty was she
+to be gone, as soon as she heard it! ’Twas not in her Power, because not
+in her Nature, to stay long enough to take a civil Leave of the Company;
+but away she flew, big with the empty Title of a fantastick King,
+proclaiming it to every one of her Acquaintance, as she passed through
+every Room, till she came to the _Presence-Chamber_, where she only
+whisper’d it; but her Whispers made above half the honourable Company
+quit the Presence of the King of _Great-Britain_, to go make their Court
+to his Majesty of _Bantam_: some cry’d, _God bless your Majesty!_ Some
+_Long live the King of +Bantam+!_ Others, _All Hail to your Sacred
+Majesty_; In short, he was congratulated on all Sides. Indeed I don’t
+hear that his Majesty King _Charles_ II. ever sent an Ambassador to
+compliment him; tho’ possibly, he saluted him by his Title the first
+time he saw him afterwards: For, you know, he is a wonderful
+good-natur’d and well-bred Gentleman.
+
+After he thought the Court of _England_ was universally acquainted with
+his mighty Honour, he was pleas’d to think fit to retire to his own more
+private Palace, with Sir _Philip_ and _Goodland_, whom he entertain’d
+that Night very handsomly, till about seven o’Clock; when they went
+together to the Play, which was that Night, _A King and no King_. His
+Attendant-Friends could not forbear smiling, to think how aptly the
+Title of the Play suited his Circumstances. Nor could he choose but take
+Notice of it behind the Scenes, between Jest and Earnest; telling the
+Players how kind Fortune had been the Night past, in disposing the Bean
+to him; and justifying what one of her Prophetesses had foretold some
+Years since. I shall now no more regard (said he) that old doating
+Fellow _Pythagoras’s_ Saying _Abstineto a Fabis_, That is, (added he, by
+way of Construction) _Abstain from Beans_: for I find the Excellency of
+’em in Cakes and Dishes; from the first, they inspire the Soul with
+mighty Thoughts; and from the last our Bodies receive a strong and
+wholesom Nourishment. That is, (said a Wag among those sharp Youths,
+I think ’twas my Friend the Count) these puff you up in Mind, Sir, those
+in Body. They had some further Discourse among the Nymphs of the Stage,
+ere they went into the Pit; where Sir _Philip_ spread the News of his
+Friend’s Accession to the Title, tho’ not yet to the Throne of _Bantam_;
+upon which he was there again complimented on that Occasion. Several of
+the Ladies and Gentlemen who saluted him, he invited to the next Night’s
+Ball at his Palace.
+
+The Play done, they took each of them a Bottle at the _Rose_, and parted
+till Seven the Night following; which came not sooner than desired: for
+he had taken such Care, that all things were in readiness before Eight,
+only he was not to expect the Musick till the End of the Play. About
+Nine, Sir _Philip_, his Lady, _Goodland_, _Philibella_, and _Lucy_ came.
+Sir _Philip_ return’d him _Rabelais_, which he had borrow’d of him,
+wherein the Knight had written, in an old odd sort of a Character, this
+Prophecy of his own making; with which he surpriz’d the Majesty of
+_Bantam_, who vow’d he had never taken Notice of it before; but he said,
+he perceiv’d it had been long written by the Character; and here it
+follows, as near as I can remember:
+
+  _When +M. D. C.+ come +L.+ before,
+  Three +XXX+’s, two II’s and one I. more;
+  Then +KING+, tho’ now but Name to thee,
+  Shall both thy Name and Title be._
+
+They had hardly made an End of reading it, ere the whole Company, and
+more than he had invited, came in, and were receiv’d with a great deal
+of Formality and Magnificence. _Lucy_ was there attended as his Queen;
+and _Philibella_, as the Princess her Sister. They danc’d then till they
+were weary; and afterwards retired to another large Room, where they
+found the Tables spread and furnished with all the most seasonable cold
+Meat; which was succeeded by the choicest Fruits, and the richest Desert
+of Sweetmeats that Luxury could think on, or at least that this Town
+could afford. The Wines were all most excellent in their Kind; and their
+Spirits flew about thro’ every Corner of the House: There was scarce a
+Spark sober in the whole Company, with drinking repeated Glasses to the
+Health of the King of _Bantam_, and his Royal Consort, with the Princess
+_Philibella’s_ who sat together under a Royal Canopy of State, his
+Majesty between the two beautiful Sisters: only _Friendly_ and
+_Goodland_ wisely manag’d that part of the Engagement where they were
+concern’d, and preserv’d themselves from the Heat of the Debauch.
+
+Between Three and Four most of them began to draw off, laden with Fruit
+and Sweetmeats, and rich Favours compos’d of Yellow, Green, Red and
+White, the Colours of his new Majesty of _Bantam_. Before Five they were
+left to themselves; when the Lady _Friendly_ was discompos’d, for want
+of Sleep, and her usual Cordial, which obliged Sir _Philip_ to wait on
+her Home, with his two Nieces: But his Majesty would by no means part
+with _Goodland_; whom, before Nine that Morning, he made as drunk as a
+Lord, and by Consequence, one of his Peers; for Majesty was then,
+indeed, as great as an Emperor: He fancy’d himself _Alexander_, and
+young _Valentine_ his _Hephestion_; and did so be-buss him, that the
+young Gentleman fear’d he was fallen into the Hands of an _Italian_.
+However, by the kind Persuasions of his condescending and dissembling
+Majesty, he ventur’d to go into Bed with him; where King _Would-be_ fell
+asleep, hand-over-head: and not long after, _Goodland_, his new-made
+Peer, follow’d him to the cool Retreats of _Morpheus_.
+
+About Three the next Afternoon they both wak’d, as by consent, and
+called to dress. And after that Business was over, I think they
+swallow’d each of ’em a Pint of _Old-Hock_, with a little Sugar, by the
+way of healing. Their Coaches were got ready in the mean time; but the
+Peer was forced to accept of the Honour of being carried in his
+Majesty’s to Sir _Philip’s_, whom they found just risen from Dinner,
+with _Philadelphia_ and his two Nieces. They sat down, and ask’d for
+something to relish a Glass of Wine, and Sir _Philip_ order’d a cold
+Chine to be set before ’em, of which they eat about an Ounce a-piece;
+but they drank more by half, I dare say.
+
+After their little Repast, _Friendly_ call’d the _Would-be-Monarch_
+aside, and told him, that he would have him go to the Play that Night,
+which was _The London-Cuckolds_; promising to meet him there in less
+than half an Hour after his Departure: telling him withal, that he would
+surprize him with a much better Entertainment than the Stage afforded.
+_Majesty_ took the Hint, imagining, and that rightly, that the Knight
+had some Intrigue in his Head, for the Promotion of the Commonwealth of
+Cuckoldom: In order therefore to his Advice, he took his leave about a
+quarter of an Hour after.
+
+When he was gone, Sir _Philip_ thus bespoke his pretended Niece: Madam,
+I hope your Majesty will not refuse me the Honour of waiting on you to a
+Place where you will meet with better Entertainment than your Majesty
+can expect from the best Comedy in Christendom. _Val_, (continued he)
+you must go with us, to secure me against the Jealousy of my Wife. That,
+indeed (return’d his Lady) is very material; and you are mightily
+concern’d not to give me Occasion, I must own. You see I am now,
+(replied he:) But--come! on with Hoods and Scarf! (pursued he, to
+_Lucy_.) Then addressing himself again to his Lady; Madam, (said he)
+we’ll wait on you. In less Time than I could have drank a Bottle to my
+Share, the Coach was got ready, and on they drove to the Play-House. By
+the way, said _Friendly_ to _Val._--Your Honour, noble Peer, must be set
+down at _Long’s_; for only _Lucy_ and I must be seen to his Majesty of
+_Bantam_: And now, I doubt not, you understand what you must trust
+to.--To be robb’d of her Majesty’s Company, I warrant (return’d the
+other) for these long three Hours. Why (cry’d _Lucy_) you don’t mean,
+I hope, to leave me with his Majesty of _Bantam_? ’Tis for thy Good,
+Child! ’Tis for thy Good (return’d _Friendly_.) To the _Rose_ they got
+then; where _Goodland_ alighted, and expected Sir _Philip_; who led
+_Lucy_ into the King’s Box, to his new Majesty; where, after the first
+Scene, he left them together. The over-joy’d fantastick Monarch would
+fain have said some fine obliging Things to the Knight, as he was going
+out; but _Friendly’s_ Haste prevented ’em, who went directly to
+_Valentine_, took one Glass, call’d a Reckoning, mounted his Chariot,
+and away Home they came: where I believe he was welcome to his Lady; for
+I never heard any thing to the contrary.
+
+In the mean Time, his Majesty had not the Patience to stay out half the
+Play, at which he was saluted by above twenty Gentlemen and Ladies by
+his new and mighty Title: but out he led Miss Majesty ere the third Act
+was half done; pretending, that it was so damn’d a bawdy Play, that he
+knew her Modesty had been already but too much offended at it; so into
+his Coach he got her. When they were seated, she told him she would go
+to no Place with him, but to the Lodgings her Mother had taken for her,
+when she first came to Town, and which still she kept. Your Mother,
+Madam, (cry’d he) why, is Sir _Philip’s_ Sister living then? His
+Brother’s Widow is, Sir, (she reply’d.) Is she there? (he ask’d.) No,
+Sir, (she return’d;) she is in the Country. Oh, then we will go thither
+to chuse. The Coach-man was then order’d to drive to _Jermain-Street_;
+where, when he came in to the Lodgings, he found ’em very rich and
+modishly furnish’d. He presently call’d one of his Slaves, and whisper’d
+him to get three or four pretty Dishes for Supper; and then getting a
+Pen, Ink and Paper, writ a Note to _C----d_ the Goldsmith with
+_Temple-Bar_, for five hundred guineas; which _Watchful_ brought him, in
+less than an Hour’s time, when they were just in the Height of Supper;
+_Lucy_ having invited her Landlady, for the better Colour of the Matter.
+His _Bantamite_ Majesty took the Gold from his Slave, and threw it by
+him in the Window, that _Lucy_ might take Notice of it; (which you may
+assure yourself she did, and after Supper wink’d on the goodly Matron of
+the House to retire, which she immediately obey’d.) Then his Majesty
+began his Court very earnestly and hotly, throwing the naked Guineas
+into her Lap: which she seemed to refuse with much Disdain; but upon his
+repeated Promises, confirm’d by unheard of Oaths and Imprecations, that
+he would give her Sister three thousand Guineas to her Portion, she
+began by Degrees to mollify, and let the Gold lie quietly in her Lap:
+And the next Night, after he had drawn Notes on two or three of his
+Bankers, for the Payment of three thousand Guineas to Sir _Philip_, or
+Order, and received his own Bond, made for what he had lost at Play,
+from _Friendly_, she made no great Difficulty to admit his Majesty to
+her Bed. Where I think fit to leave ’em for the present; for (perhaps)
+they had some private Business.
+
+The next Morning before the Titular King was (I won’t say up, or
+stirring, but) out of Bed, young _Goodland_ and _Philibella_ were
+privately marry’d; the Bills being all accepted and paid in two Days
+Time. As soon as ever the fantastick Monarch could find in his Heart to
+divorce himself from the dear and charming Embraces of his beautiful
+Bedfellow, he came flying to Sir _Philip_, with all the Haste that
+Imagination big with Pleasure could inspire him with, to discharge it
+self to a suppos’d Friend. The Knight told him, that he was really much
+troubled to find that his Niece had yielded so soon and easily to him;
+however, he wish’d him Joy: To which the other return’d, that he could
+never want it, whilst he had the Command of so much Beauty, and that
+without the ungrateful Obligations of Matrimony, which certainly are the
+most nauseous, hateful, pernicious and destructive of Love imaginable.
+Think you so, Sir? (ask’d the Knight;) we shall hear what a Friend of
+mine will say on such an Occasion, to-morrow about this Time: but I
+beseech your Majesty to conceal your Sentiments of it to him, lest you
+make him as uneasy as you seem to be in that Circumstance. Be assur’d I
+will, (return’d the other:) But when shall I see the sweet, the dear,
+the blooming, the charming _Philibella_? She will be with us at Dinner.
+Where’s her Majesty? (ask’d Sir _Philip_) Had you enquir’d before, she
+had been here; for, look, she comes! _Friendly_ seems to regard her with
+a Kind of Displeasure, and whisper’d Majesty, that he should express no
+particular Symptoms of Familiarity with _Lucy_ in his House, at any
+Time, especially when _Goodland_ was there, as then he was above with
+his Lady and _Philibella_, who came down presently after to Dinner.
+
+About Four o’Clock, as his Majesty had intrigu’d with her, _Lucy_ took a
+Hackney-Coach, and went to her Lodgings; whither about an Hour after, he
+follow’d her, Next Morning, at nine, he came to _Friendly’s_, who
+carry’d him up to see his new-married Friends--But (O Damnation to
+Thoughts!) what Torments did he feel, when he saw young _Goodland_ and
+_Philibella_ in bed together; the last of which return’d him humble and
+hearty Thanks for her Portion and Husband, as the first did for his
+Wife. He shook his Head at Sir _Philip_, and without speaking one Word,
+left ’em, and hurry’d to _Lucy_, to lament the ill Treatment he had met
+with from _Friendly_. They coo’d and bill’d as long as he was able; she
+(sweet Hypocrite) seeming to bemoan his Misfortunes; which he took so
+kindly, that when he left her, which was about three in the Afternoon,
+he caus’d a Scrivener to draw up an Instrument, wherein he settled a
+hundred Pounds a Year on _Lucy_ for her Life, and gave her a hundred
+Guineas more against her Lying-in: (For she told him, and indeed ’twas
+true, that she was with child, and knew her self to be so from a very
+good Reason--) And indeed she was so--by the _Friendly_ Knight. When he
+return’d to her, he threw the obliging Instrument into her Lap;
+(it seems he had a particular Kindness for that Place--) then call’d for
+Wine, and something to eat; for he had not drank a Pint to his Share all
+the Day, (tho’ he had ply’d it at the Chocolate-House.--) The Landlady,
+who was invited to sup with ’em, bid ’em good-night, about eleven; when
+they went to bed, and partly slept till about six; when they were
+entertain’d by some Gentleman of their Acquaintance, who play’d and sung
+very finely, by way of _Epithalamium_, these Words and more:
+
+  _Joy to great +Bantam!+
+  Live long, love and wanton!
+  And thy Royal Consort!
+  For both are of one Sort, +&c.+_
+
+The rest I have forgot. He took some Offence at the Words; but more at
+the Visit that Sir _Philip_, and _Goodland_, made him, about an Hour
+after, who found him in Bed with his Royal Consort; and after having
+wish’d ’em Joy, and thrown their Majesties own Shoes and Stockings at
+their Head, retir’d. This gave Monarch in Fancy so great a Caution that
+he took his Royal Consort into the Country, (but above forty Miles off
+the Place where his own Lady was) where, in less than eight Months, she
+was deliver’d of a Princely Babe, who was Christen’d by the Heathenish
+Name of _Hayoumorecake Bantam_, while her Majesty lay in like a pretty
+Queen.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The King of Bantam.
+
+
+p. 17 _last new Plays, being then in the Year 1683_. The new plays acted
+at the Theatre Royal in 1682 were: Southerne’s _The Loyal Brother; or,
+The Persian Prince_; Tate’s _Ingratitude of a Commonwealth; or, The Fall
+of Caius Marius Coriolanus_; Settle’s _The Heir of Morocco, with the
+Death of Gayland_; Banks’ _The Unhappy Favourite; or, the Earl of
+Essex_; D’Urfey’s _The Injur’d Princess; or, The Fatal Wager_. There
+were also an unusual number of revivals of the older plays at this
+house. At Dorset Garden the following were produced: Otway’s _Venice
+Preserved; or, A Plot Discovered_; Mrs. Behn’s _The City Heiress; or,
+Sir Timothy Treatall_; D’Urfey’s _The Royalist_; Mrs. Behn’s _The False
+Count; or, A New Way to Play an Old Game_; Banks’ _Virtue Betray’d; or,
+Anna Bullen_; Mrs. Behn’s _The Roundheads; or, The Good Old Cause_;
+Ravenscroft’s _The London Cuckolds_; and _Romulus and Hersilia; or, The
+Sabine War_, an anonymous tragedy. There were also notable revivals of
+Randolph’s _The Jealous Lovers_, and Fletcher’s _The Maid in the Mill_.
+The two Companies amalgamated in the autumn, opening at the Theatre
+Royal, 16 November, for which occasion a special Prologue and Epilogue
+were written by Dryden. 4 December, Dryden and Lee’s famous tragedy,
+_The Duke of Guise_, had a triumphant first night. It will be remembered
+that Mrs. Behn is writing of incidents which took place on 6 January,
+1683, Twelfth Night, so ‘the last new plays’ must refer to the
+productions of 1682. Of course, fresh songs, and probably musical
+entertainments, would be inserted at the different revivals of the older
+plays which were so frequent during that year.
+
+p. 20 _Statira, . . . Roxana._ In allusion to the two rival princesses
+for Alexander’s love as they appear in Nat Lee’s famous tragedy, _The
+Rival Queens; or, Alexander the Great_, produced at Drury Lane, 1677. It
+held the stage over a century and a half, longest of his plays, and is
+indeed an excellent piece. Originally, Hart played Alexander; Mrs.
+Marshall, the glowing Roxana; and Mrs. Boutell, Statira. Genest
+chronicles a performance at Drury Lane, 23 June, 1823, with Kean as
+Alexander; Mrs. W. West, Statira; Mrs. Glover, Roxana.
+
+p. 24 _forty the Lurch_. ‘Lurch’ is a very common old term (now rare)
+‘used in various games to denote a certain concluding state of the game
+in which one player is enormously ahead of the other; often a “maiden
+set” or love-game’--_N.E.D._ cf. Urquhart’s _Rabelais_ (1653), II, xii:
+‘By two of my table-men in the corner point I have gained the lurch.’
+Gouldman’s _Latin Dictionary_ (1674), gives: ‘A lurch; _duplex palma,
+facilis victoria_.’
+
+p. 26 _to Locket’s, where they din’d_. This fashionable Ordinary stood
+on the site of Drummond’s Bank, Charing Cross. It was named from Adam
+Locket, the landlord, who died in 1688. In 1702, however, we find an
+Edward Locket, probably a son, as proprietor. The reputation of the
+house was on the wane during the latter years of Anne, and in the reign
+of George I its vogue entirely ceased. There are very frequent
+references. In _The Country Wife_ (1675), Horner tells Pinchwife: ‘Thou
+art as shy of my kindness as a Lombard-street alderman of a courtier’s
+civility at Locket’s’ (IV, iii). In Shadwell’s _The Scowerers_ (1691),
+old Tope, replying to a health, cries: ‘I’ll answer you in a couple of
+Brimmers of Claret at Locket’s at Dinner’ (I, i). In Vanbrugh’s _The
+Relapse_ (1696), Lord Foppington, when asked if he dines at home,
+surmises: ‘’tis passible I may dine with some of aur House at Lacket’s,’
+which shows that it was then the very rendezvous of fashion and quality.
+
+p. 27 _A King and no King._ Langbaine testifies to the popularity of
+Beaumont and Fletcher’s play both before and after the Restoration.
+Pepys saw it 14 March, 1661, and again, 26 September the same year. The
+1676 quarto ‘as it is now acted at the Theatre Royal by his Majestie’s
+Servants’ gives a full cast with Hart as Arbaces; Kynaston, Tigranes;
+Mohun, Mardonius; Lacy, Bessus; Mrs. Betty Cox, Panthea; Mrs. Marshall,
+Spaconia. In the earlier production Nell Gwynne had acted Panthea. The
+two Companies amalgamated in 1682, opening 16 November. Hart ‘never
+Acted more’ after this date. Mrs. Marshall had retired in 1677; and in
+1683 Betterton was playing Arbaces with quite a new allotment of the
+other rôles.
+
+p. 27 _The Rose._ There are repeated references to this celebrated
+tavern which stood in Russell Street, Covent Garden. _vide_ _The Younger
+Brother_, I, ii (Vol. IV), Motteux’ Song: ‘Thence to the Rose where he
+takes his three Flasks,’ and the note on that passage.
+
+p. 29 _The London-Cuckolds._ Ravenscroft’s rollicking comedy, which had
+been produced with great success at the Duke’s House in 1682 (4to,
+1682), long kept the boards with undiminished favour, being very
+frequently given each season. Genest has the following true and
+pertinent remark: ‘If it be the province of Comedy not to retail
+morality to a yawning pit but to make the audience laugh and to keep
+them in good humour this play must be allowed to be one of the best
+Comedies in the English language.’ 29 October (the old Lord Mayor’s
+Day), 1751, Garrick substituted _Eastward Hoe_ at Drury Lane for the
+annual performance of _The London Cuckolds_, a change not approved by
+the audience, who promptly damned their new fare. Ravenscroft’s comedy
+was given that evening at Covent Garden, and on 9 November, the
+following year. It was also performed there in 1753. 9 November, 1754,
+George II ordered _The Provoked Husband_. It has often been stated
+(e.g. by Professor A. W. Ward--‘Ravenscroft’--_Dictionary of National
+Biography_) that this royal command gave _The London Cuckolds_ its final
+_congé_, but such was neither the intent nor the case. The play is
+billed at Covent Garden, 10 November, 1755; in 1757; and 9 November,
+1758. Shuter excelled as Dashwell. A two act version was played at
+Covent Garden, 10 April, 1782, and repeated on the 12th. This was for
+the benefit of Quick, who acted Doodle.
+
+p. 30 _Your Honour . . . must be set down at Long’s._ Long’s was a
+famous Ordinary in the Haymarket. It was here that in 1678 Lord Pembroke
+killed Mr. Coney with his fist. He was tried by his Peers and acquitted.
+There was at the same period a second tavern in Covent Garden kept by
+Ben Long, Long’s brother. In Dryden’s _Mr. Limberham_ (1678), Brainsick
+cries: ‘I have won a wager to be spent luxuriously at Long’s.’ In
+Etheredge’s _The Man of Mode_ (1676), the following conversation
+occurs:--
+
+  _Bellair._ Where do you dine?
+  _Dorimant._ At Long’s or Locket’s.
+  _Medley._ At Long’s let it be.
+
+p. 30 _the King’s Box_. The seats in the boxes of the Restoration
+Theatre were let out severally to separate persons, and although the
+King had, of course, his own private box when he saw a play, yet when he
+was not present even the royal box was apportioned to individuals as the
+rest. There are many allusions to this which prove, moreover, that the
+front row of the King’s box was the most conspicuous and highly coveted
+position in the house. In Etheredge’s _The Man of Mode_ (1676),
+Dorimant, hearing of a young gentlewoman lately come to town and being
+taken with his own handsome face, wagers that she must be ‘some awkward,
+ill-fashioned, country toad, who, not having above four dozen of black
+hairs on her head, has adorned her baldness with a large white fruz,
+that she may look sparkishly in the forefront of the King’s box at an
+old play.’ In Tom Brown’s _Letters from the Dead to the Living_[1] we
+have one from Julian, ‘late Secretary to the Muses,’ to Will. Pierre of
+Lincoln’s Inn Fields Playhouse, wherein, recalling how in his lampoons
+whilst he lived characters about town were shown in no very enviable
+light, he particularizes that ‘the antiquated Coquet was told of her age
+and ugliness, tho’ her vanity plac’d her in the first row in the King’s
+box at the playhouse.’
+
+p. 31 _Jermain-Street._ Jermyn Street runs parallel with Piccadilly from
+the Haymarket to St. James. It was built _circa_ 1667, and derives its
+name from Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans. Shadwell spells it Germin
+Street, and it was in a house here that old Snarl was wont to receive
+amorous castigation at the hands of Mrs. Figgup.--_The Virtuoso_ (1676),
+III, ii. It was a fashionable quarter. From 1675 to 1681 the Duke of
+Marlborough, then Colonel Churchill, lived here. La Belle Stuart,
+Duchess of Richmond, had a house near Eagle Passage, 1681-3, and was
+succeeded therein by the Countess of Northumberland. Next door dwelt
+Henry Saville, Rochester’s friend, 1681-3. Three doors from the Duchess
+again was living in 1683 Simon Verelest, the painter. In 1684 Sir
+William Soames followed him. In after years also there have been a large
+number of famous residents connected with this favourite street.
+
+p. 34 _after having . . . thrown their Majesties own Shoes and
+Stockings_. For this old bridal custom see _ante_, Vol. III (p. 223),
+_The Lucky Chance_, II, ii: ‘we’ll toss the Stocking’; and the note on
+that passage.
+
+    [Footnote 1: This actual letter was written by Boyer, together
+    with the reply which is dated 5 November, 1701. Julian was a
+    well-known journalistic scribbler and ribald ballader of the time.
+    William Peer [Pierre], a young actor of little account, is only
+    cast for such walk-on rôles as Jasper, a valet, in Shadwell’s _The
+    Scowerers_ (1691); the Parson in D’Urfey’s _Love for Money_
+    (1696).]
+
+
+Cross-References from Critical Notes: _The King of Bantam_
+
+Note to p. 27: _vide_ _The Younger Brother_, I, ii (Vol. IV), Motteux’
+Song: ‘Thence to the Rose where he takes his three Flasks,’ and the note
+on that passage.
+
+  _Younger Brother_ text:
+
+    Then jogs to the _Play-house_, and chats with the Masks,
+    And thence to the _Rose_, where he takes his three Flasks.
+
+  _Younger Brother_ note:
+
+  _the Rose._ This celebrated house stood in Russell Street, Covent
+  Garden, and adjoined Drury Lane. There are innumerable references
+  to it. The greater portion of the ‘Rose’ was demolished in 1776,
+  when a new front was being built to the theatre.
+
+Note to p. 34: For this old bridal custom see _ante_, Vol. III (p. 223),
+_The Lucky Chance_, II, ii: ‘we’ll toss the Stocking’; and the note on
+that passage.
+
+  _Lucky Chance_ text:
+
+  Come, Gentlemen, one Bottle, and then--we’ll toss the Stocking.
+
+  _Lucky Chance_ note:
+
+  _we’ll toss the Stocking_. This merry old matrimonial custom in use
+  at the bedding of the happy pair is often alluded to. cf. Pepys,
+  8 February, 1663: ‘Another story was how Lady Castlemaine, a few days
+  since, had Mrs. Stewart to an entertainment, and at night begun a
+  frolique that they two must be married; and married they were, with
+  ring and all other ceremonies of church service, and ribbands, and a
+  sack posset in bed and flinging the stocking; but in the close it is
+  said my Lady Castlemaine, who was the bridegroom, rose, and the King
+  come and take her place.’
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE _UNFORTUNATE HAPPY LADY_: A True History.
+
+
+I cannot omit giving the World an account, of the uncommon Villany of a
+Gentleman of a good Family in _England_ practis’d upon his Sister, which
+was attested to me by one who liv’d in the Family, and from whom I had
+the whole Truth of the Story. I shall conceal the unhappy Gentleman’s
+own, under the borrow’d Names of Sir _William Wilding_, who succeeded
+his Father Sir _Edward_, in an Estate of near 4000_l._ a Year,
+inheriting all that belong’d to him, except his Virtues. ’Tis true, he
+was oblig’d to pay his only Sister a Portion of 6000_l._ which he might
+very easily have done out of his Patrimony in a little Time, the Estate
+being not in the least incumbred. But the Death of his good Father gave
+a loose to the Extravagancy of his Inclinations, which till then was
+hardly observable. The first Discovery he made of his Humour, was in the
+extraordinary rich Equipage he prepar’d for his Journey to _London_,
+which was much greater than his fair and plentiful Fortune cou’d
+maintain, nor were his Expences any way inferior to the Figure he made
+here in Town; insomuch, that in less than a Twelve-Month, he was forc’d
+to return to his Seat in the Country, to Mortgage a part of his Estate
+of a Thousand Pounds a Year, to satisfy the Debts he had already
+contracted in his profuse Treats, Gaming and Women, which in a few Weeks
+he effected, to the great Affliction of his Sister _Philadelphia_, a
+young Lady of excellent Beauty, Education, and Virtue; who, fore-seeing
+the utter Ruin of the Estate, if not timely prevented, daily begg’d of
+him, with Prayers and Tears, that might have mov’d a _Scythian_ or wild
+_Arab_, or indeed any thing but him, to pay her her Portion. To which,
+however, he seemingly consented, and promis’d to take her to Town with
+him, and there give her all the Satisfaction she cou’d expect: And
+having dipp’d some paltry Acres of Land, deeper than ever Heaven dipp’d
+’em in Rain, he was as good as his Word, and brought her to Town with
+him, where he told her he would place her with an ancient Lady, with
+whom he had contracted a Friendship at his first coming to _London_;
+adding, that she was a Lady of incomparable Morals, and of a matchless
+Life and Conversation. _Philadelphia_ took him in the best Sense, and
+was very desirous to be planted in the same House with her, hoping she
+might grow to as great a Perfection in such excellent Qualifications, as
+she imagined ’em. About four Days therefore after they had been in Town,
+she sollicits her Brother to wait on that Lady with her: He reply’d,
+that it is absolutely Necessary and Convenient that I should first
+acquaint her with my Design, and beg that she will be pleas’d to take
+you into her Care, and this shall be my chief Business to Day:
+Accordingly, that very Hour he went to the Lady _Beldams_, his reverend
+and honourable Acquaintance, whom he prepar’d for the Reception of his
+Sister, who he told her was a Cast-Mistress of his, and desir’d her
+Assistance to prevent the Trouble and Charge, which she knew such Cattle
+would bring upon young Gentlemen of plentiful Estates. To morrow Morning
+about Eleven, I’ll leave her with your Ladyship, who, I doubt not, will
+give her a wholesome Lesson or two before Night, and your Reward is
+certain. My Son, (return’d she) I know the Greatness of your Spirit, the
+Heat of your Temper has both warm’d and inflam’d me! I joy to see you in
+Town again--Ah! That I could but recal one twenty Years for your
+Sake!--Well--no matter.--I won’t forget your Instructions, nor my Duty
+to Morrow: In the mean time, I’ll drink your Health in a Bottle of
+_Sherry_ or two, O! Cry your Mercy, good my Lady _Beldam_, (said the
+young Debauchee) I had like to have forfeited my Title to your Care, in
+not remembring to leave you an Obligation. There are three Guinea’s,
+which, I hope, will plead for me till to Morrow.--So--Your Ladyship’s
+Servant humbly kisses your Hand. Your Honours most Obedient Servant,
+most gratefully Acknowledges your Favours.--Your humble Servant, Good
+Sir _William_, added she, seeing him leave her in haste.
+
+Never were three Persons better pleas’d for a Time than this unnatural
+Man, his sweet innocent Sister, and the Lady _Beldam_; upon his return
+to _Philadelphia_, who could not rest that Night, for thinking on the
+Happiness she was going to enjoy in the Conversation of so virtuous a
+Lady as her Brother’s Acquaintance, to whom she was in Hopes that she
+might discover her dearest Thoughts, and complain of Sir _William’s_
+Extravagance and Unkindness, without running the Hazzard of being
+betray’d; and at the same Time, reasonably expect from so pious a Lady
+all the Assistance within her Capacity. On the other side, her Brother
+hugg’d himself in the Prospect he had of getting rid of his own Sister,
+and the Payment of 6000_l._ for the Sum of forty or fifty Guineas, by
+the Help and Discretion of this sage Matron; who, for her part, by this
+Time, had reckon’d up, and promis’d to herself an Advantage of at least
+three hundred Pounds, one way or other by this bargain.
+
+About Ten the next Morning, Sir _William_ took Coach with his Sister,
+for the old Lady’s Enchanted Castle, taking only one Trunk of hers with
+them for the present, promising her to send her other Things to her the
+next Day. The young Lady was very joyfully and respectfully received by
+her Brother’s venerable Acquaintance, who was mightily charm’d with her
+Youth and Beauty. A Bottle of the Best was then strait brought in, and
+not long after a very splendid Entertainment for Breakfast: The
+Furniture was all very modish and rich, and the Attendance was suitable.
+Nor was the Lady _Beldam’s_ Conversation less obliging and modest, than
+Sir _William’s_ Discourse had given _Philadelphia_ occasion to expect.
+After they had eaten and drank what they thought Convenient, the
+reverend old Lady led ’em out of the Parlour to shew ’em the House,
+every Room of which they found answerably furnish’d to that whence they
+came. At last she led ’em into a very pleasant Chamber, richly hung, and
+curiously adorn’d with the Pictures of several beautiful young Ladies,
+wherein there was a Bed which might have been worthy the Reception of a
+Dutchess: This, Madam, (said she) is your Apartment, with the
+Anti-chamber, and little Withdrawing-Room. Alas, Madam! (returned the
+dear innocent unthinking Lady) you set too great a Value on your
+Servant; but I rather think your Ladyship designs me this Honour for the
+sake of Sir _William_, who has had the Happiness of your Acquaintance
+for some Months: Something for Sir _William_, (returned the venerable
+Lady _Beldam_) but much more for your Ladyship’s own, as you will have
+Occasion to find hereafter. I shall Study to deserve your Favours and
+Friendship, Madam, reply’d _Philadelphia_: I hope you will, Madam, said
+the barbarous Man. But my Business now calls me hence; to Morrow at
+Dinner I will return to you, and Order the rest of your Things to be
+brought with me. In the mean while (pursu’d the Traytor, kissing his
+Sister, as he thought and hop’d the last time) be as chearful as you
+can, my Dear! and expect all you can wish from me. A thousand Thanks, my
+dearest Brother, return’d she, with Tears in her Eyes: And Madam, (said
+he to his old mischievous Confederate, giving her a very rich Purse
+which held 50 Guineas) be pleas’d to accept this Trifle, as an humble
+Acknowledgment of the great Favour you do this Lady, and the Care of
+her, which you promise; and I’m sure she cannot want. --So, once more,
+(added he) my Dear! and, Madam! I am your humble Servant _Jusqu’
+a Revoir_, and went out bowing. Heavens bless my dear Brother! (cry’d
+_Philadelphia_) your Honour’s most Faithful and obedient Servant, said
+the venerable _Beldam_.
+
+No sooner was the treacherous Brother gone, than the old Lady taking
+_Philadelphia_ by the Hand, led her into the Parlour; where she began to
+her to this Effect: _If I mistake not, Madam, you were pleas’d to call
+Sir +William+ Brother once or twice of late in Conversation: Pray be
+pleas’d to satisfy my Curiosity so far as to inform me in the Truth of
+this Matter? Is it really so or not?_ _Philadelphia_ reply’d, blushing,
+your Ladyship strangely surprizes me with this Question: For, I thought
+it had been past your Doubt that it is so. Did not he let you know so
+much himself? I humbly beg your Pardon, Madam, (returned the true
+Offspring of old Mother _Eve_) that I have so visibly disturb’d you by
+my Curiosity: But, indeed, Madam, Sir _William_ did not say your
+Ladyship was his Sister, when he gave me the Charge of you, as of the
+nearest and dearest Friend he had in the World. Now our Father and
+Mother are dead, (said the sweet Innocent) who never had more Children
+than us two, who can be a nearer or dearer Friend unto me, than my
+Brother Sir _William_, or than I his Sister to him? None? Certainly,
+you’ll excuse me, Madam, (answer’d t’other) a Wife or Mistress may.
+A Wife indeed, (return’d the beautiful Innocent) has the Pre-eminence,
+and perhaps, a Mistress too, if honourably lov’d and sought for in
+Marriage: But, (she continu’d) I can assure your Ladyship that he has
+not a Wife, nor did I ever hear he had a Mistress yet. Love in Youth
+(said old Venerable) is very fearful of Discovery. I have known, Madam,
+a great many fine young Gentlemen and Ladies, who have conceal’d their
+violent Passions and greater Affection, under the Notion and Appellation
+of Brother and Sister. And your Ladyship imagines, Sir _William_ and I
+do so? reply’d _Philadelphia_, by way of Question. ’Twere no imprudence,
+if you did, Madam, return’d old Lady _Beldam_, with all the Subtlety she
+had learn’d from the Serpent. Alas! Madam, (reply’d she) there is
+nothing like Secrecy in Love: ’Tis the very Life and Soul of it! I have
+been young myself, and have known it by Experience. But, all this,
+Madam, (interrupted _Philadelphia_, something nettl’d at her Discourse)
+all this can’t convince me, that I am not the true and only Sister both
+by Father and Mother of Sir _William Wilding_; however, he wou’d impose
+upon your Ladyship, for what Ends, indeed, I know not, unless
+(unhappily, which Heaven forbid!) he designs to gain your Ladyship’s
+Assistance in defeating me of the Portion left me by my Father: But,
+(she continued with Tears) I have too great an Assurance of your Virtue,
+to Fear that you will consent to so wicked a Practise. You may be
+confident, Madam, (said t’other) I never will. And, supposing that he
+were capable of perpetrating so base an Act of himself, yet if your
+Ladyship will be guided and directed by me, I will shew you the Means of
+living Happy and Great, without your Portion, or your Brother’s Help; so
+much I am charm’d with your Beauty and Innocence.
+
+But, pray, Madam, (pursu’d she) what is your Portion? And what makes you
+doubt your Brother’s Kindness? _Philadelphia_ then told her, how much
+her Brother was to pay her, and gave her an Account of his
+Extravagancies, as far as she knew ’em; to which t’other was no
+Stranger; and (doubtless) cou’d have put a Period to her Sorrows with
+her Life, had she given her as perfect a Relation of his riotous and
+vicious Practices, as she was capable of: But she had farther Business
+with her Life, and, in short, bid her be of good Comfort, and lay all
+her Care on her, and then she cou’d not miss of continual Happiness. The
+sweet Lady took all her Promises for sterling, and kissing her Impious
+Hand, humbly return’d her Thanks. Not long after they went to Dinner;
+and in the Afternoon, three or four young Ladies came to visit the Right
+Reverend the Lady _Beldam_; who told her new Guest, that these were all
+her Relations, and no less than her own Sister’s Children. The Discourse
+among ’em was general and very modest, which lasted for some Hours: For,
+our Sex seldom wants matter of Tattle. But, whether their Tongues were
+then miraculously wearied, or that they were tir’d with one continued
+Scene of Place, I won’t pretend to determine: But they left the Parlour
+for the Garden, where after about half an Hour’s Walk, there was a very
+fine Desert of Sweetmeats and Fruits brought into one of the Arbours.
+_Cherbetts_, _Ros Solis_, rich and small Wines, with Tea, Chocolate,
+_&c._ compleated the old Lady’s Treat; the Pleasure of which was much
+heighten’d by the Voices of two of her Ladyship’s Sham-Nieces, who sung
+very charmingly. The Dear, sweet Creature, thought she had happily got
+into the Company of Angels: But (alas!) they were Angels that had fallen
+more than once. She heard talk of Nunneries, and having never been out
+of her own Country till within four or five Days, she had certainly
+concluded she had been in one of those Religious-Houses now, had she but
+heard a Bell ring, and seen ’em kneel to Prayers, and make use of their
+Beads, as she had been told those happy people do. However it was, she
+was extremely pleas’d with the Place and Company. So nearly do’s Hell
+counterfeit Heaven sometimes. At last, said one of the white Devils,
+wou’d my dear _Tommy_ were here! O Sister! (cry’d another) you won’t be
+long without your wish: For my Husband and he went out together, and
+both promis’d to be here after the Play. Is my Brother Sir _Francis_
+with him there? (ask’d the first) yes, (answer’d the third) Sir _Thomas_
+and Sir _Francis_ took Coach from St. _James’s_, about two Hours since:
+We shall be excellent Company when they come, (said a fourth); I hope
+they’ll bring the Fiddlers with ’em, added the first: Don’t you love
+Musick, Madam? (ask’d the old Lady _Beldam_) Sometimes, Madam, (reply’d
+_Philadelphia_) but now I am out o’tune myself. A little harmless Mirth
+will chear your drooping Spirits, my dear, (return’d t’other, taking her
+by the Hand) come! These are all my Relations, as I told you, Madam; and
+so consequently are their Husbands. Are these Ladies all marry’d, Madam?
+_Philadelphia_ ask’d. All, all, my dear Soul! (reply’d the insinuating
+Mother of Iniquity;) and thou shalt have a Husband too, e’re long. Alas,
+Madam! (return’d the fair Innocent) I have no Merit, nor Money: Besides,
+I never yet could Love so well as to make Choice of one Man before
+another.
+
+How long have you liv’d then, Madam? (ask’d the Lady _Beldam_) too long
+by almost sixteen Years, (reply’d _Philadelphia_) had Heaven seen good.
+This Conversation lasted till Word was brought that Sir _Francis_ and
+Sir _Thomas_, with Two other Gentlemen were just lighted at the Gate:
+Which so discompos’d the fair Innocent, that trembling, she begg’d leave
+to retire to her Chamber. To which, after some Perswasion to the
+contrary, the venerable _Beldam_ waited on her. For, these were none of
+the Sparks to whom _Philadelphia_ was design’d to be Sacrific’d. In her
+Retirement, the Beautiful dear Creature had the Satisfaction of venting
+her Grief in Tears, and addressing herself to Heaven, on which only she
+trusted, notwithstanding all the fair Promises of her reverend Hostess;
+she had not been retir’d above an Hour, e’re a She-attendant waited on
+her, to know if she wanted any thing, and what she wou’d please to have
+for her Supper; if she wou’d not give her Lady the Honour of her Company
+below? To which she return’d, that she wou’d not Sup, and that she
+wanted nothing but Rest, which she wou’d presently seek in Bed. This
+Answer brought up the Officious old Lady herself; who, by all Means
+wou’d needs see her undress’d, for other Reasons more than a bare
+Compliment; which she perform’d with a great deal of Ceremony, and a
+Diligence that seem’d more than double. For she had then the Opportunity
+of observing the Delicacy of her Skin, the fine turn of her Limbs, and
+the richness of her Night-dress, part of the Furniture of her Trunk. As
+soon as she had cover’d herself, she kiss’d and wish’d her a good
+Repose. The dear Soul, as Innocent and White as her Linen, return’d her
+Thanks, and address’d herself to Sleep; out of which she was waken’d by
+a loud Consort of Musick, in less than two Hours time, which continu’d
+till long after Midnight. This occasion’d strange and doubtful Thoughts
+in her, tho’ she was altogether so unskill’d in these Mysteries, that
+she cou’d not guess the right Meaning. She apprehended, that (possibly)
+her Brother had a Mistress, from the Lady _Beldam’s_ Discourse, and that
+this was their Place of Assignation: Suspecting too, that either Sir
+_Francis_, or Sir _Thomas_, of whom she had heard not long before, was
+Sir _William_, her Brother. The Musick and all the Noise in the House
+ceas’d about four a Clock in the Morning; when she again fell into a
+Sleep, that took away the Sense of her Sorrows, and Doubts ’till Nine;
+when she was again visited from her Lady, by the same She-attendant, to
+know how she had rested, and if she wou’d Please to Command her any
+Service. _Philadelphia_ reply’d, That she had rested very well most Part
+of the Morning, and that she wanted nothing, but to know how her Lady
+had Slept, and whether she were in Health, unless it were the Sight of
+her Brother. The Servant return’d with this Answer to her Lady, while
+_Philadelphia_ made shift to rise, and begin to Dress without an
+Assistant; but she had hardly put on anything more than her Night-gown,
+e’re the Lady _Beldam_ herself came in her _Dishabille_, to assure her
+of her Brother’s Company with ’em at Dinner, exactly at One a Clock; and
+finding _Philadelphia_ doing the Office of a Waiting-woman to herself,
+call’d up the same Servant, and in a great Heat (in which however she
+took Care to make Use of none of her familiar develish Dialect) ask’d
+the Reason that she durst leave the Lady when she was Rising. The Wench
+trembling, reply’d, That indeed the Lady did not let her know that she
+had any Thoughts of Rising. Well then (said her seeming offended Lady)
+stir not from her now, I charge you, ’till she shall think fit to
+dismiss you, and Command your Absence. Dear Madam, Good Morrow to you,
+(said she to _Philadelphia_) I’ll make haste and Dress too. Good Morrow
+to your Ladyship (return’d the design’d Victim) when she was _Habille_,
+she desir’d the Servant to withdraw; after which she betook herself to
+her Devotion; at the end of which the Lady _Beldam_ return’d, attended
+by a Servant, who brought some Bread and Wine for her Breakfast; which
+might then be seasonable enough to _Philadelphia_; who cou’d not forbear
+discovering the Apprehensions she had of her Brother’s Unkindness, still
+entertaining her _Reverence_, with the Fear she had of his
+Disappointment that Day at Dinner; which t’other oppos’d with all the
+seeming Reasons her Art cou’d suggest, ’till the Clock had struck
+Twelve; when a Servant came to tell the Lady _Beldam_, that one Sir
+_William Wilding_ wou’d certainly wait on her precisely at One, and
+desir’d that he might Dine in the young Lady’s Apartment, to avoid being
+seen by any Visitants that might come; and besides, that he had invited
+a Gentleman, his particular Friend, to Dinner with him there. This
+Message being deliver’d aloud by the Servant, was no little Satisfaction
+to the poor desponding young Lady, who discours’d very chearfully of
+indifferent Matters, ’till the Clock gave ’em Notice that the Hour was
+come; within three Minutes after which, Word was brought to the Lady
+_Beldam_, that a Gentleman below enquir’d for Sir _William Wilding_,
+whom she immediately went down to receive, and led up to _Philadelphia_.
+Madam, (cry’d the great Mistress of her Art) this is the Gentleman whom
+Sir _William_ has invited to Dinner with us; and I am very Happy to see
+him, for he is my worthy Friend, and of a long Acquaintance. Trust me,
+Madam, he is a Man of Honour, and has a very large Estate: I doubt not
+(added she) that you will find his Merits in his Conversation. Here
+_Gracelove_, for that was the Gentleman’s Name, saluted _Philadelphia_,
+and acquitted himself like a Person of good Sense and Education, in his
+first Address to her; which she return’d with all the Modesty and
+ingenuous Simplicity that was still proper to her. At last she ask’d him
+how long he thought it wou’d be e’re Sir _William_ came? To which he
+reply’d, that Sir _William_ told him, unless he were there exactly at
+half an Hour after One, they shou’d not stay Dinner for him; that he had
+not parted with him much above a Quarter of an Hour, when he left him
+engag’d with particular Company, about some weighty Business: But
+however, that, if he shou’d be so unhappy as to lose their Conversation
+at Dinner, he wou’d not fail to wait on ’em by Four at farthest. The
+young Lady seem’d a little uneasie at this; but the Gentleman appearing
+so very Modest, and speaking it with such an assur’d Gravity, took away
+all Thoughts of Suspicion. To say Truth, _Gracelove_ was a very honest,
+modest, worthy and handsome Person; and had the Command, at present, of
+a many Thousand Pounds, he was by Profession a _Turkey_ Merchant: He had
+Travell’d much, for his Age, not having then reach’d Thirty, and had
+seen most of the Courts in _Christendom_: He was a Man of a sweet
+Temper, of just Principles, and of inviolable Friendship, where he
+promis’d; which was no where, but where ’twas merited. The Minute came
+then at length, but without any Sir _William_; so Dinner was serv’d up
+in the Room next to _Philadelphia’s_ Bed-chamber. What they had was Nice
+and Seasonable; and they were all Three as Pleasant as cou’d be
+expected, without Sir _William_; to whose Health the Glass went round
+once or twice. Dinner over, and the Table clear’d, the old Lady _Beldam_
+entreated Mr. _Gracelove_ to entertain the young Lady with a Discourse
+of his Travels, and of the most remarkable Passages and Encounters of
+’em, which he perform’d with a Modesty and Gravity peculiar to himself;
+and in some part of his Discourse mov’d the innocent Passions of the
+beauteous and compassionate _Philadelphia_; who was as attentive as she
+us’d to be in Church at Divine Service. When the old Lady perceiv’d that
+he had made an end, or at least, that he desir’d to proceed no farther,
+she took Occasion to leave ’em together, in haste; pretending, that she
+had forgotten to give Orders to one of her Servants, about a Business of
+Moment, and that she wou’d return to ’em in a very little Time. The
+Gentleman, you may believe, was very well pleas’d with her Retreat,
+since he had a Discourse to make to _Philadelphia_ of a quite contrary
+Nature to the Preceding, which requir’d Privacy: But how grateful her
+Absence was to _Philadelphia_, we may judge by the Sequel. Madam, (said
+_Gracelove_) how do you like the Town? Have you yet seen any Man here
+whom you cou’d Love? Alas, Sir! (she reply’d) I have not seen the Town,
+only in a Coach, as I pass’d along, nor ever was in any House, except
+this and another, where my Brother lodg’d: And to your other Question I
+must Answer, that I Love all Men. That’s generous, indeed, Madam!
+(cry’d he) there is then some hope that I am one of the Number. No
+doubt, Sir, (she return’d) that I Love you as well as any, except Sir
+_William_. Is he the happy Man then, Madam? (said _Gracelove_.) If to be
+loved best by me, may make any Man happy, doubtless it must be he, for
+he is my own Brother. I fancy, Madam, (return’d he) that you may make me
+as dear a Relation to you, as Sir _William_. How is that possible, Sir?
+she ask’d. Thus, Madam, (replied he, drawing closer to her) by our
+nearer Approaches to one another. O, Heaven defend me! (cried she aloud)
+what do you mean? Take away your Hand; you uncivil Man! Help! Madam! my
+Lady! O, (said _Gracelove_) she’s gone purposely out of hearing. Am I
+betray’d then? She cried. Betray’d! as if your pretty innocent Ladyship
+did not know where you were lodged. Ah, Lady, (said he) this Faint will
+never do. Come, Child, (pursued he) here are an hundred Guineas for you;
+and I promise you Yearly as much, and Two Hundred with every Child that
+I shall get on thy sweet Body: Faith I love thee, thou pretty Creature.
+Come! let’s be better acquainted! you know my Meaning. Hell does, no
+doubt of (she return’d!) O Monster a Man! I hate the Sight of you. With
+that she flung from him, and ran into the Bed-chamber, where she thought
+to have locked herself in; but the Key was conveyed into his Pocket.
+Thither, therefore, he pursued her, crying, Ah, Madam, this is the
+proper Field for our Dispute. Perceiving her Error, and animated by
+Despair, she rushed between him and the Door, into the outward Room
+again, he still following, and dodging her from Chair to Chair, she
+still Shrieking. At last (cried he) a Parley, Madam, with you. Let me
+ask you one Question, and will you Answer me directly and truly to it?
+Indeed, I will, (said she) if it be Civil. Don’t you know then, that you
+are in a naughty House, and that old _Beldam_ is a rank Procuress, to
+whom I am to give Two hundred Guineas for your Maidenhead? O Heaven
+(cried she, kneeling with Tears gushing out from her dear Eyes) thou
+Asserter and Guardian of Innocence! protect me from the impious
+Practices intended against me! Then looking steadfastly on him, Sir,
+(pursued she) I can but Difficultly guess what you mean: But I find,
+that unless you prove what at first you seemed to me, I would say, an
+honest worthy Gentleman, I shall be in danger of eternal Ruin. You, Sir,
+are the only Person that may yet Preserve me. Therefore I beseech you,
+Sir, hear my Story, with the Injuries and Afflictions that so dreadfully
+torment me; of which, I am sure, none of those _Barbarians_, of which
+you had Occasion to speak but now, would have been guilty! O hear, and
+help me! for Heaven’s Sake, hear and help me! I will, poor Creature,
+(return’d he) methinks I now begin to see my Crime and thy Innocence in
+thy Words and Looks. Here she recounted to him all the Accidents of her
+Life, since her Father’s Decease, to that very Day, e’re _Gracelove_
+came to Dinner. And now (cry’d she, sobbing and weeping) how dare I
+trust this naughty Brother again? Can I be safe with him, think you,
+Sir? O! no; thou dear sweet Creature! by no Means. O infernal Monsters,
+Brother and Bawd! If you distrust that I am yet his Sister, here, Sir,
+take this Key, (said she) and open that Trunk within, where you will
+find Letters from him to me in his own Hand; and from my own dear dead
+Father too, Sir _Edward_, that gracious, that good Man! He shew’d us
+both the Paths of Virtue: which I have not yet forsaken. Pray satisfy
+me, Sir, and see the Truth! For your Satisfaction I will, Madam,
+(said he) but I am now fully convinc’d that you have greater Beauties
+within, than those I admire without. Saying this, he open’d the Trunk,
+where he read a Line or two from her Father, and as many from her
+Brother, which having again laid down, return’d to her, with this
+Advice: I see, Madam, (said he) that you have Money there, and several
+Things of Value, which I desire you to secure about you this Moment; for
+I mean to deliver you out of this cursed Place, if you dare put any
+Confidence in a Stranger, after your own Brother has acted the Part of
+so great a Villain; if you dare trust a Stranger too, Madam, who had
+himself a Design upon you; Heaven forgive me for it! but by all Things
+sacred, I find my Error: I pity you, and I fear I shall love you. Do you
+fear that, Sir? (said she) Why I love you dearly now, because I see you
+are going to be good again; that is, you are going to be yourself again.
+I hope, nay, I resolve I will, tho’ it cost me my Life (said he.) Can
+you submit, Madam, to attend on a young Lady of my Acquaintance here in
+Town, ’till I can provide better for you? O I can be any Thing;
+a Chamber-Maid, a Cook-Maid, a Scullion, what you shall think fit, tho’
+never so mean, that is not naughty. Well, Madam, (said he) compose your
+self then, and seem a little pleasant when I bring up that old Factoress
+of Hell. I will endeavour it, Sir, she return’d; and he went down to the
+Devil’s chief Agent, to whom he said, that the poor Thing was at first
+very uneasy, but that now she had consented to go along with him for an
+Hour or two to some other Place, doubting your Secrecy; for she would
+not have her Brother know it, as she calls him, for a thousand Worlds,
+and more Money. Well, my Son, (reply’d old _Beldam_) you may take her
+with you: But you remember your Bargain. O fie, Mother! (cry’d he) did
+you ever know me false to you? No, no, you smock’d-fac’d Wag, (said she)
+but be sure you bring her again to Night, for fear Sir _William_ should
+come. Never doubt it! Come up with me, (cry’d he) you’ll see a strange
+Alteration, I believe. To _Philadelphia_ they came then, whom they found
+walking about the Room, and looking something more pleasantly than she
+had ever done since she came thither. After she had taken her Money, and
+other Things of Value, so, Madam, (said _Beldam_) how does your Ladiship
+now? I find, the Sight of a young handsome Gentleman has work’d Wonders
+with you in a little Time: I understand you are going to take a Walk
+with my worthy Friend here, and ’tis well done: I dare trust you with
+him, but with no other Man living, except Sir _William_. Madam,
+(return’d the fair afflicted Lady) I am strangely oblig’d to you for
+your Care of me, and am sure I shall never be able to return your
+Obligations as I ought, and as I could wish. You won’t stay late, Mr.
+_Gracelove_? (said the Mother of Mischief.) No, no, (reply’d he) I will
+only shew the Lady a Play, and return to Supper. What is play’d to
+Night? (ask’d the old One) _The Cheats, +Mother+, the Cheats._ (answer’d
+_Gracelove_.) Ha, (said _Beldam_, laughing) a very pretty Comedy,
+indeed! Ay, if well play’d, return’d he. At these Words, they went down,
+where a Coach was call’d; which carry’d ’em to Counsellor _Fairlaw’s_
+House, in _Great Lincolns-Inn-Fields_, whom they found accidentally at
+Home; but his Lady and Daughter were just gone to Chapel, being then
+turn’d of Five. _Gracelove_ began his Apology to the good old
+Counsellor, who was his Relation, for bringing a strange Lady thither,
+with a Design to place her in his Family: But Sir, continu’d he, if you
+knew her sorrowful Story, you would be as ambitious of entertaining her,
+as I am earnest to entreat it of you. A very beautiful Lady ’tis,
+(return’d the Counsellor) and very modest, I believe. That I can witness
+(reply’d t’other.) Alas, Sir! (said the fair Unfortunate) I have nothing
+but my Modesty and honest Education to recommend me to your Regard. I am
+wrong’d and forsaken by my nearest Relation; then she wept
+extravagantly: That Gentleman can give you an Account of my Misfortunes,
+if he pleases, with greater Ease and less Trouble than my self. Not with
+less Trouble, believe me, Madam; (return’d _Gracelove_) and then began
+to inform _Fairlaw_ in every Point of her unhappy Circumstances. The
+good old Gentleman heard ’em with Amazement and Horror; but told her,
+however, that she need not despond, for he would take Care to right her
+against her Brother; and, that in the mean Time she should be as welcome
+to him as any of his nearest Kindred, except his Wife and Daughter.
+_Philadelphia_ would have knelt to thank him; but he told her, that
+humble Posture was due to none but Heaven, and the King sometimes. In a
+little While after, the Lady _Fairlaw_ and her Daughter came Home, who
+were surpriz’d at the Sight of a Stranger, but more at her Beauty, and
+most of all at her Story, which the good old Gentleman himself could not
+forbear relating to ’em: Which ended, the Mother and Daughter both
+kindly and tenderly embrac’d her, promising her all the Assistance
+within their Power, and bid her a thousand Welcomes. _Gracelove_ stay’d
+there ’till after Supper, and left her extremely satisfy’d with her new
+Station. ’Twas here she fix’d then; and her Deportment was so obliging,
+that they would not part with her for any Consideration. About three
+Days after her coming from that lewd Woman’s House, _Gracelove_ took a
+Constable and some other Assistants, and went to _Beldam’s_ to demand
+the Trunk, and what was in it, which at first her Reverence deny’d to
+return, ’till Mr. Constable produc’d the Emblem of his Authority, upon
+which it was deliver’d, without so much as re-minding _Gracelove_ of his
+Bargain; who then pretended he would search the House for Sir _William
+Wilding_; but her graceless Reverence swore most devoutly that he had
+never been there, and that she had neither seen nor heard from him since
+the Day he left _Philadelphia_ with her. With these Things, and this
+Account he return’d to Counsellor _Fairlaw’s_, who desir’d _Gracelove_,
+if possible, to find out Sir _William_, and employ’d several others on
+the same Account. In less than a Month’s Time _Gracelove_ had the good
+Fortune to find him at his Lodgings in _Soho-Square_, where he
+discours’d him about his Sister’s Portion, and desir’d Sir _William_ to
+take some speedy Care for the Payment of it; otherwise she had Friends
+that would oblige him to it, tho’ never so contrary to his Intentions.
+_Wilding_ ask’d where she was? t’other enquir’d where he left her? Sir
+_William_ reply’d, that he had plac’d her with an old grave Gentlewoman
+of his Acquaintance, and that he thought she was there still. No, Sir,
+(return’d _Gracelove_) I have deliver’d her out of the Jaws of Perdition
+and Hell. Come, Sir _William_, (answer’d he) ’twas impiously done, to
+leave your beautiful, young, and virtuous Sister, to the Management of
+that pernicious Woman. I found her at old _Beldam’s_, who would have
+prostituted her to me for two hundred Guineas; but her heavenly Virtues
+might have secur’d and guarded her from more violent Attempts than mine.
+Blush, if you can, Sir! and repent of this! It will become you. If not,
+Sir, you will hear farther from your Servant, added he, and left him
+staring after him. This Discourse was a great Mortification to the
+Knight, whose Conscience, harden’d as it was, felt yet some Pain by it.
+He found he was not like to continue safe or at Ease there, where he
+immediately retreated into a Place of Sanctuary, call’d the _Savoy_,
+whither his whole Equipage was remov’d as soon as possible, he having
+left Order with his Servants, to report that he went out of Town that
+very Afternoon for his own Country. _Gracelove_ in the mean Time
+return’d to the Counsellor’s, with a great deal of Joy, for having
+discover’d Sir _William_ at his Lodgings, which was likewise no little
+Satisfaction to _Fairlaw_, his Lady and Daughter; _Philadelphia_ only
+was disturb’d when she heard the good old Gentleman threaten to lay her
+Brother fast enough: But, alas! he was too cunning for ’em; for in a
+whole Twelvemonth after, all which Time they made Enquiry, and narrowly
+search’d for him, they could not see him, nor any one that could give an
+Account of him, for he had chang’d his true Name and Title, for that of
+’Squire _Sportman_. The farther Pursuit of him then seem’d fruitless to
+’em, and they were forc’d to be contented with their Wishes to find him.
+
+_Gracelove_ by this Time had entertain’d the sincerest Affections and
+noblest Passion that Man can be capable of, for _Philadelphia_; of which
+he had made her sensible, who had at that Time comply’d with his
+honourable Demands, had she not entreated him to expect a kind Turn of
+Providence, which might, (happily) e’re long, put her in Possession of
+her Right; without which, she told him, she could not consent to marry
+him, who had so plentiful a Fortune, and she nothing but her Person and
+Innocence. How, Madam! (cry’d he) have you no Love in Store for me! Yes,
+Sir, (return’d she) as much as you can wish I have in Store for you, and
+so I beg it may be kept ’till a better Opportunity. Well, Madam,
+(said he) I must leave you for some Months, perhaps for a whole Year;
+I have receiv’d Letters of Advice that urge the Necessity of my going to
+_Turkey_; I have not a Week’s Time to endeavour so dreaded a Separation
+as I must suffer; therefore, thou beautiful, thou dear, thou virtuous
+Creature, let me begin now! Here, thou tenderest Part of my Soul!
+(continu’d he, giving her a rich Diamond Ring) wear this ’till my
+Return! I hope the Sight of it may sometimes re-call the dying Memory of
+_Gracelove_ to your better-busy’d Thoughts. Ah, _Gracelove_! (said she)
+nothing can so well, nothing I am sure can better employ my Thoughts,
+than thy dear self: Heaven only excepted. They enlarg’d a great deal
+more on this Subject at that Time; but the Night before his Departure
+was entirely spent in Sighs, Vows, and Tears, on both Sides. In the
+Morning, after he had again entreated his Cousin’s, and the Lady’s, and
+her Daughter’s Care and Kindness to _Philadelphia_, the remaining and
+best Part of his Soul, with one hearty Kiss, accompany’d with Tears, he
+took a long Farewel of his dear Mistress, who pursu’d him with her Eyes,
+’till they could give her no farther Intelligence of him; and they
+help’d her Kindness to him, and eas’d her Grief for his Absence in
+weeping for above a Week together, when in private. He never omitted
+writing to her and his Cousin by every Opportunity, for near nine
+Months, as he touch’d at any Port; but afterwards they could not hear
+from him for above half a Year; when, by Accident, the Counsellor met a
+Gentleman of _Gracelove’s_ Acquaintance at a Coffee-House, who gave him
+an Account, that the Ship and he were both cast away, near five Months
+since; that most if not all of the Ship’s Company perish’d; of which,
+’twas fear’d, _Gracelove_ was one, having never since been heard of.
+That his Loss in that Ship amounted to above twelve thousand Pounds:
+With this dreadful and amazing News the good old Gentleman returns Home,
+afflicts his poor sorrowful Lady and Daughter, and almost kills unhappy
+_Philadelphia_; who the next Day, by mere Chance, and from a Stranger,
+who came on Business to the Counsellor, heard, that one Sir _William
+Wilding_, an extravagant, mad, young Spark of such a County, who lately
+went by the borrow’d Name and Title of ’Squire _Sportman_, had mortgag’d
+all his Estate, which was near four thousand a Year, and carry’d the
+Money over with him into _France_ on Saturday last. This, added to the
+former News, put so great a Check on her Spirits, that she immediately
+dropp’d down in a Swoon; whence she only recover’d, to fall into what
+was of a much more dangerous Consequence, a violent Feaver, which held
+her for near six Weeks, e’re she could get Strength enough to go down
+Stairs: In all which Time, Madam _Fairlaw_ and _Eugenia_, her Daughter,
+attended her as carefully and constantly, as if they had been her own
+Mother and Sister: The good old Counsellor still commending and
+encouraging their Care. The Roses and Lillies at last took their Places
+again; but the Clouds of her Sorrow were still but too visible. Two
+Years more past, without one Word of Advice from _Gracelove_ or any
+Account of him from any one else; insomuch, that they all concluded he
+was certainly dead: And, ’twas true, indeed, that his Ship and he were
+cast away, much about that Time that the Gentleman gave _Fairlaw_ a
+Relation: That ’twas certain he had lost above 12000_l._ and had like
+to have lost his Life; but being very expert in Swimming, he got to
+Shoar upon the Coast of _Barbary_, the Wreck happening not to be above
+three Leagues thence; he was in almost as bad a Condition as if he had
+been drown’d, for here he was made a Prisoner to one of the Natives; in
+which miserable Circumstance he lanquish’d for above six Years, for Want
+of a Ransom; which he had often endeavour’d to raise by Letters, that he
+sent hither to his Friends (in _England_;) amongst which Counsellor
+_Fairlaw_ was one of his most particular and assur’d. But however
+Providence or Accident, if you please, order’d it, not a Line came to
+the Hands of any of his Friends; so that had not Heaven had yet a future
+Blessing in Store for him, he had certainly have better perish’d in the
+Sea, than to have fall’n into the Power of a People less merciful than
+Seas, Winds, or hungry wild Beasts in Pursuit of their Prey. But this
+could not be learn’d (it seems) from any Man but himself, upon his
+Return, after his Redemption.
+
+Two Years more pass’d on; towards the latter of which the old Lady
+_Fairlaw_ took her Bed, desperately sick, insomuch that she was given
+over by all her Physicians; she continu’d in great Misery for near two
+Months; in all which Time _Philadelphia_ was constantly with her all the
+Day, or all the Night; much about that Time she dy’d; and, dying, told
+her Husband, that she had observ’d he had a particular Esteem or
+Kindness for _Philadelphia_; which was now a great Satisfaction to her;
+since she was assur’d, that if he marry’d her, she would prove an
+excellent Nurse to him, and prolong his Life by some Years. As for
+_Eugenia_, (added she) you need not be concern’d; I’m sure she will
+consent to any Thing that you shall propose, having already so
+plentifully provided for her. The good old Gentleman answer’d, that he
+would fulfil her Will as far as lay in his Power: And not long after,
+she departed this Life. Her Burial was very handsome and honourable.
+Half a Year was now expir’d since her Interment, when the old Counsellor
+began to plead his own Cause to young _Philadelphia_, reminding her that
+now the Death of _Gracelove_ was out of Question; and that therefore she
+was as much at her Liberty to make her own Choice of an Husband as he
+was of a Wife; not forgetting, at the same Time, to let her know, that
+his Widow, (whoever had the good Fortune to be so) would be worth above
+thirty thousand Pounds in ready Money, besides a thousand a Year. But,
+above all, he urg’d his dying Lady’s last Advice to him, that he would
+marry her; and hop’d she would see the Will of the Dead satisfy’d. The
+young Lady being broken in Sorrows, and having mortify’d all her
+Appetites to the Enjoyments of this World, and not knowing where to meet
+with so fair an Overture, tho’ at first, in Modesty, she seem’d to
+refuse it as too great an Honour, yet yielded to less than a Quarter of
+an Hour’s Courtship. And the next Sunday marry’d they were, with the
+Consent, and to the perfect Satisfaction of, his Daughter, Madam
+_Eugenia_; who lov’d _Philadelphia_ sincerely. They kept their
+Wedding very nobly for a Month, at their own House in _Great
+Lincolns-Inn-Fields_; but the Memory of the old Lady was still so fresh
+with the young Lady _Fairlaw_, that she prevail’d with him to remove to
+another, more convenient as she fancy’d, in _Covent-Garden_. They had
+dwelt there not much more than four Months, e’re the good old Gentleman
+fell sick and dy’d. Whether it were the Change of an old House for a
+new, or an old Wife for a young, is yet uncertain, tho’ his Physicians
+said, and are still of Opinion, that, doubtless, it was the last. ’Tis
+past all Doubt, that she did really mourn for and lament his Death; for
+she lov’d him perfectly, and pay’d him all the dutiful respect of a
+virtuous Wife, while she liv’d within that State with him; which he
+rewarded as I have said before. His Funeral was very sumptuous and
+honourable indeed! and as soon as it was over, _Eugenia_ desir’d her
+young beautiful Mother-in-Law to retreat a little with her into the
+Country, to a pleasant House she had, not twenty Miles distant from
+Town; urging, That she could by no Means enjoy her self under that Roof,
+where her dear Father dy’d. The obliging Step-mother, who might more
+properly have been call’d her Sister, being exactly of the same Age with
+her, readily comply’d, and she pass’d away all that Summer with
+_Eugenia_, at their Country-Seat, and most Part of the Winter too; for
+_Eugenia_ could by no Means be prevail’d on to lie one Night in her
+Mother’s House; ’twas with some Reluctancy that she consented to dine
+there sometimes. At length the whole Year of _Philadelphia’s_ Widowhood
+was expir’d; during which, you can’t but imagine that she was solicited
+and address’d to by as many Lovers, or pretended Lovers, as our dear
+King _Charles_, whom God grant long to reign, was lately by the
+Presbyterians, Independants, Anabaptists, and all those canting whiggish
+Brethren! But she had never lik’d any Man so well as to make him her
+Husband, by Inclination, unless it was _Gracelove_, devour’d by the
+greedy Inhabitants of the Sea.
+
+Whilst her Fortune began to mend thus, her Brother’s grew worse; but
+that was indeed the Effect of his Extravagancy: In less than two Years
+Time, he had spent eight thousand Pounds in _France_, whence he return’d
+to _England_, and pursuing his old profuse Manner of Living, contracted
+above 100_l._ Debts here, in less than four Months Time; which not being
+able to satisfy, he was arrested, and thrown into a Goal, whence he
+remov’d himself into the _King’s Bench_, on that very Day that old
+_Fairlaw_ dy’d. There, at first, for about a Month, he was entertain’d
+like a Gentleman; but finding no Money coming, nor having a Prospect of
+any, the Marshal and his Instruments turn’d him to the Common Side,
+where he learnt the Art of Peg-making, a Mystery to which he had been a
+Stranger all his Life long ’till then. ’Twas then he wish’d he might see
+his Sister, hoping that she was in a Condition to relieve him; which he
+was apt to believe, from the Discourse he had with _Gracelove_ some
+Years past. Often he wish’d to see her, but in vain; however, the next
+_Easter_ after the old Counsellor’s Death, _Philadelphia_, according to
+his Custom, sent her Steward to relieve all the poor Prisoners about
+Town; among the rest he visited those in the common Side of the _King’s
+Bench_, where he heard ’em call Sir _William Wilding_ to partake of his
+Lady’s Charity. The poor Prodigal was then feeding on the Relief of the
+Basket, not being yet able to get his Bread at his new Trade: To him the
+Steward gave a Crown, whereas the other had but Half a Crown apiece.
+Then he enquir’d of some of the unhappy Gentlemen, Sir _William’s_
+Fellow-Collegians, of what Country Sir _William_ was? How long he had
+been there? And how much his Debts were? All of which he receiv’d a
+satisfactory Account. Upon his Return to his Lady, he repeated the
+dismal News of her Brother’s Misfortunes to her; who immediately
+dispatch’d him back again to the Prison, with Orders to give him twenty
+Shillings more at present, and to get him remov’d to the Master’s Side,
+into a convenient Chamber, for the Rent of which the Steward engag’d to
+pay; and promis’d him, as she had commanded, twenty Shillings a Week, as
+long as he stay’d there, on Condition that he would give the Names of
+all his Creditors, and of all those to whom he had engag’d any Part of
+his Estate; which the poor Gentleman did most readily and faithfully:
+After which, the Steward enquir’d for a Taylor, who came and took
+Measure of _Philadelphia’s_ unkind Brother, and was order’d to provide
+him Linnen, a Hat, Shoes, Stockings, and all such Necessaries, not so
+much as omitting a Sword: With all which he acquainted his Lady at his
+Return; who was very much griev’d at her Brother’s unhappy
+Circumstances, and at the same Time extremely well pleas’d to find her
+self in a Condition to relieve him. The Steward went constantly once a
+Week to pay him his Money; and Sir _William_ was continually very
+curious to know to whom he was oblig’d for so many and great Favours;
+But he was answer’d, That they came from a Lady who desir’d to have her
+Name conceal’d. In less than a Year, _Philadelphia_ had paid 25000_l._
+and taken off the Mortgages on 2500_l._ _per Annum_ of her Brother’s
+Estate; and coming to Town from _Eugenia’s_ Country-House one Day, to
+make the last Payment of two thousand Pounds, looking out of her Coach
+on the Road, near _Dartford_, she saw a Traveller on Foot, who seem’d to
+be tir’d with his Journey, whose Face, she thought, she had formerly
+known: This Thought invited her to look on him so long, that she, at
+last, perswaded her self it was _Gracelove_, or his Ghost: For, to say
+Truth, he was very pale and thin, his Complexion swarthy, and his
+Cloaths (perhaps) as rotten as if he had been bury’d in ’em. However,
+unpleasant as it was, she could not forbear gazing after this miserable
+Spectacle; and the more she beheld it, the more she was confirmed it was
+_Gracelove_, or something that had usurp’d his Figure. In short, she
+could not rest ’till she call’d to one of her Servants, who rode by the
+Coach, whom she strictly charg’d to go to that poor Traveller, and mount
+him on his Horse, ’till they came to _Dartford_; where she order’d him
+to take him to the same Inn where she baited, and refresh him with any
+Thing that he would eat or drink; and after that, to hire a Horse for
+him, to come to Town with them: That then he should be brought Home to
+her own House, and be carefully look’d after, ’till farther Orders from
+her. All which was most duly and punctually perform’d.
+
+The next Morning early she sent for the Steward, whom she order’d to
+take the Stranger to a Sale-shop, and fit him with a Suit of good
+Cloaths, to buy him Shirts, and other Linnen, and all Necessaries, as he
+had provided for her Brother; and gave him Charge to use him as her
+particular Friend, during his Stay there, bidding him, withal, learn his
+Name and Circumstances, if possible, and to supply him with Money for
+his Pocket Expences: All which he most faithfully and discreetly
+perform’d, and brought his Lady an Account of his Sufferings by Sea, and
+Slavery among the _Turks_, as I have before related; adding, that his
+Name was _Gracelove_. This was the greatest Happiness, certainly, that
+ever yet the dear beautiful Creature was sensible of. On t’other Side,
+_Gracelove_ could not but admire and praise his good Fortune, that had
+so miraculously and bountifully reliev’d him; and one Day having some
+private Discourse with the Steward, he could not forbear expressing the
+Sense he had of it; declaring, That he could not have expected such kind
+Treatment from any Body breathing, but from his Cousin, Counsellor
+_Fairlaw_, his Lady, or another young Lady, whom he plac’d and left with
+his Cousins. Counsellor _Fairlaw_! (cry’d the Steward) why, Sir, my Lady
+is the old Counsellor’s Widow; she is very beautiful and young too. What
+was her Name, Sir, before she marry’d the Counsellor? (ask’d
+_Gracelove_) That I know not, (reply’d t’other) for the old Steward dy’d
+presently after the old Lady, which is not a Year and a Half since; in
+whose Place I succeed; and I have never been so curious or inquisitive,
+as to pry into former Passages of the Family. Do you know, Sir, (said
+_Gracelove_) whereabouts in Town they liv’d before? Yes, Sir,
+(return’d the Steward, who was taught how to answer) in _Great
+Lincolns-Inn-Fields_, I think, Alas! (cry’d _Gracelove_) ’twas the same
+Gentleman to whom I design’d to apply my self when I came to _England_.
+You need not despair now, Sir, (said t’other) I dare say my Lady will
+supply your Wants. O wonderful Goodness of a Stranger! (cry’d
+_Gracelove_) uncommon and rare amongst Relations and Friends! How have
+I, or how can I ever merit this? Upon the End of their Conference, the
+Steward went to _Philadelphia_, and repeated it almost _verbatim_ to
+her; who order’d _Gracelove_ should be taken Measure of by the best
+Taylor in _Covent-Garden_; that he should have three of the most modish
+rich Suits made, that might become a private Gentleman of a Thousand
+Pounds a Year, and Hats, Perukes, Linnen, Swords, and all Things
+suitable to ’em, all to be got ready in less than a Month; in which
+Time, she took all the Opportunity she could either find or make to see
+him, and not to be seen by him: She oblig’d her Steward to invite him to
+a Play, whither she follow’d ’em, and sate next to _Gracelove_, and
+talk’d with him; but all the while masq’d. In this Month’s Time she was
+daily pester’d with the Visits of her Addressors; several there were of
+’em; but the chief were only a Lord of a very small Estate, tho’ of a
+pretty great Age; a young blustering Knight, who had a Place of 500_l._
+a Year at Court; and a County Gentleman, of a very plentiful Estate,
+a Widower, and of a middle Age. These three only of her Lovers she
+invited to Dinner, on the first Day of the next Month: In the mean while
+she sent a rich Suit, and Equipage proportionable, to her Brother, with
+an Invitation to dine with her on the same Day. Then she writ to
+_Eugenia_ to come and stay in Town, if not in the same House with her,
+for two or three Days before; which her affectionate Daughter obey’d; to
+whom _Philadelphia_ related all her Brother’s past Extravagancies and
+what she had done for him in redeeming most Part of his Estate; begging
+of her, that if she could fancy his Person, she would take him into her
+Mercy and marry him. Being assur’d, that such a virtuous Wife as she
+would prove, must necessarily reclaim him, if yet he were not perfectly
+convinc’d of his Follies; which, she doubted not, his late long
+Sufferings had done. _Eugenia_ return’d, That she would wholly be
+directed and advis’d by her in all Things; and that certainly she could
+not but like the Brother, since she lov’d the Sister so perfectly and
+truly.
+
+The Day came, and just at Twelve, _Gracelove_, meeting the Steward on
+the Stairs coming from his Lady, _Gracelove_ then told him, that he
+believ’d he might take the Opportunity of that Afternoon to go over to
+_Putney_, and take a Game or two at Bowls. The Steward return’d, Very
+well, Sir, I shall let my Lady know it, if she enquires for you.
+_Philadelphia_, who overheard what they said, call’d the Steward in
+Haste, and bid him call _Gracelove_ back, and tell him, she expected his
+Company at her Table to Day, and that she desir’d he would appear like
+himself. The Steward soon overtook him at the Door, just going out as
+_Eugenia_ came in, who look’d back on _Gracelove_: The poor Gentleman
+was strangely surpriz’d at the Sight of her, as she was at his; but the
+Steward’s Message did more amaze and confound him. He went directly to
+his Chamber, to dress himself in one of those rich Suits lately made for
+him; but, the Distraction he was in, made him mistake his Coat for his
+Wastcoat, and put the Coat on first; but, recalling his straggling
+Thoughts, he made Shift to get ready time enough to make his Appearance
+without a second Summons. _Philadelphia_ was as pleasant at Dinner, as
+ever she had been all her Life; she look’d very obligingly on all the
+Sparks, and drank to every one of ’em particularly, beginning to the
+Lord--and ending to the Stranger, who durst hardly lift up his Eyes a
+second Time to her’s, to confirm him that he knew her. Her Brother was
+so confounded, that he bow’d and continu’d his Head down ’till she had
+done drinking, not daring to encounter her Eyes, that would then have
+reproach’d him with his Villany to her.
+
+After Dinner the Cloth was taken away; She began thus to her Lovers: My
+Lord! Sir _Thomas_! and Mr. _Fat-acres_! I doubt not, that it will be of
+some Satisfaction to you, to know whom I have made Choice for my next
+Husband; which now I am resolv’d no longer to defer.
+
+The Person to whom I shall next drink, must be the Man who shall ever
+command me and my Fortune, were it ten times greater than it is; which I
+wish only for his Sake, since he deserves much more.--Here, (said she to
+one that waited) put Wine into two Glasses: Then she took the Diamond
+Ring from her Finger, and put it into one of ’em. My dear _Gracelove_,
+(cry’d she) I drank to thee; and send thee back thy own Ring, with
+_Philadelphia’s_ Heart. He startl’d, blush’d, and looked wildly; whilst
+all the Company stared on him. Nay, pledge me, (persu’d she) and return
+me the Ring: for it shall make us both one the next Morning. He bow’d,
+kiss’d, and return’d it, after he had taken off his Wine. The defeated
+Lovers knew not how to resent it? The Lord and Knight were for going,
+but the Country Gentleman oppos’d it, and told ’em, ’twas the greatest
+Argument of Folly, to be disturb’d at the Caprice of a Woman’s Humour.
+They sate down again therefore, and she invited ’em to her Wedding on
+the Morrow.
+
+And now, Brother, (said she) I have not quite forgotten you, tho’ you
+have not been pleas’d to take Notice of me: I have a Dish in Reserve for
+you, which will be more grateful to your Fancy than all you have tasted
+to Day. Here! (cry’d she to the Steward) Mr. _Rightman_, do you serve up
+that Dish your self. _Rightman_ then set a cover’d Dish on the Table.
+What! more Tricks yet? (cry’d my Lord and Sir _Thomas_) Come, Sir
+_William_! (said his Sister) uncover it! he did so; and cry’d out,
+O matchless Goodness of a virtuous Sister! here are the Mortgages of the
+best Part of my Estate! O! what a Villain! what a Monster have I been!
+no more, dear Brother; (said she, with Tears in her Eyes) I have yet a
+greater Happiness in Store for you: This Lady, this beautiful virtuous
+Lady, with twenty thousand Pounds, will make you happy in her Love.
+Saying this, she join’d their Hands; Sir _William_ eagerly kiss’d
+_Eugenia’s_, who blush’d, and said, Thus, Madam, I hope to shew how much
+I love and honour you. My Cousin _Eugenia_! (cry’d _Gracelove_!) The
+same, my dear lost dead Cousin _Gracelove_! (reply’d she) O! (said he in
+a Transport) my present Joys are greater than all my past Miseries! my
+Mistress and my Friend are found, and still are mine. Nay, (faith, said
+my Lord) this is pleasant enough to me, tho’ I have been defeated of the
+Enjoyment of the Lady. The whole Company in general went away very well
+that Night, who return’d the next Morning, and saw the two happy Pair
+firmly united.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unfortunate Happy Lady.
+
+
+p. 43 _Ros Solis._ A potent and well-liked tipple.
+
+  We abandon all ale
+  And beer that is stale
+  Rosa-solis and damnable hum,
+  But we will rack
+  In the praise of sack
+  ’Gainst Omne quod exit in um.
+
+    --_Witts Recreation_ (1654).
+
+_The Accomplished Female Instructor_ gives the following recipe: ‘Rossa
+Solis; Take of clean spirits, not too strong, two quarts and a quart of
+spring-water; let them seethe gently over a soft fire till about a pint
+is evaporated; then put in four spoonfuls of orange-flower-water, and as
+much of very good cinnamon-water; crush 3 eggs in pieces, and throw them
+in shell and all; stir it well, and when it boiles up a little take it
+off.’ This drink was so great a favourite with Louis XIV that a
+particular sort was named Rossolis du Roi.
+
+p. 51 _The Cheats, Mother, the Cheats._ John Wilson’s excellent comedy,
+_The Cheats_, which was written and produced in 1662, attained great
+popularity. It ran into four editions (‘imprimatur, 5 November, 1663’);
+4to, 1664; 1671; 1684; 1693. Caustically satirizing the Puritans, it
+became a stock piece, and was acted as late as May, 1721, when Griffin,
+Harper, Diggs, and Mrs. Gifford sustained the parts which had been
+created by Lacy, Mohun, Hart, and Mrs. Corey.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE FAIR JILT.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Although _The Fair Jilt_ was published in 1688, it is interesting to
+note that ten years earlier, Michaelmas Term, 1678, there is advertised
+for R. Tonson _The Amorous Convert; being a true Relation of what
+happened in Holland_, which may very well be the first sketch of Mrs.
+Behn’s maturer novel. The fact that she does not ‘pretend here to
+entertain you with a feign’d story,’ but on the contrary, ‘every
+circumstance to a tittle is truth’, and that she expressly asserts, ‘To
+a great part of the main I myself was an eye-witness’, aroused
+considerable suspicion in Bernbaum as to the veracity of her narration,
+a suspicion which, when he gravely discovers history to know no such
+person as her ‘Prince Tarpuin of the race of the last Kings of Rome’, is
+resolved into a certainty that she is romancing fully and freely
+throughout. It is surely obvious that such a point does not so much
+demonstrate Mrs. Behn’s untruthfulness as her consummate art. With all
+the nice skill of a born novelist she has so mingled fact and fancy,
+what did occur and what might have been, that any attempt to disentangle
+the twain would be idle indeed. The passages where she is most insistent
+upon the due sequence of events, most detailed in observation are not
+impossibly purely fictional, the incidents related without stress or
+emphatic assertions are probably enough the plain unvarnished happenings
+as she witnessed them. That the history is mainly true admits of little
+question; that Mrs. Behn has heightened and coloured the interest is
+equally certain.
+
+_The Fair Jilt_ must be allowed to stand in the very first rank amongst
+her novels. It has been aptly compared to a novella by Bandello, and is
+indeed more than worthy of the pen of the good Dominican Bishop of Agen.
+In all its incidents and motives the story is eternally true. The
+fateful beauty, playing now the part of Potiphar’s wife, and now the yet
+commoner rôle of an enchantress whose charms drive men to madness and
+crime, men who adore her even from their prison cell and are glad to go
+to a shameful death for her sake, appears in all history, in all
+literature, nay, in the very newspaper scandals and police courts of
+to-day. As a picture of untrammelled passion, culpable and corrupt, but
+yet terribly fascinating in her very recklessness and abandon, Miranda
+is indeed a powerful study. Always guilty, she is always excused, or if
+punished but sparingly and little, whilst the friar languishes in a foul
+dungeon, the page-boy is hanged, her husband stands upon the public
+scaffold. And then in the end, ‘very penitent for her life past’, she is
+received with open arms by Tarquin’s old father, who looks upon her as a
+very angel, and retiring to the tranquility of a country-house she
+passes her days in ‘as perfect a state of happiness as this troublesome
+world can afford’.
+
+
+
+
+  To
+  HENRY PAIN, ESQ;
+
+  Sir,
+
+Dedications are like Love, and no Man of Wit or Eminence escapes them;
+early or late, the Affliction of the Poet’s Complement falls upon him;
+and Men are oblig’d to receive ’em as they do their Wives; _For better,
+for worse_; at lest with a feign’d Civility.
+
+It was not Want of Respect, but Fear, that has hitherto made us keep
+clear of your Judgment, too piercing to be favourable to what is not
+nicely valuable. We durst not awaken your Criticism; and by begging your
+Protection in the Front of a Book, give you an Occasion to find nothing
+to deserve it. Nor can this little History lay a better Claim to that
+Honour, than those that have not pretended to it; which has but this
+Merit to recommend it, That it is Truth: Truth, which you so much
+admire. But ’tis a Truth that entertains you with so many Accidents
+diverting and moving, that they will need both a Patron, and an Assertor
+in this incredulous World. For however it may be imagin’d that Poetry
+(my Talent) has so greatly the Ascendant over me, that all I write must
+pass for Fiction, I now desire to have it understood that this is
+Reality, and Matter of Fact, and acted in this our latter Age: And that
+in the person of _Tarquin_, I bring a Prince to kiss your Hands, who
+own’d himself, and was receiv’d, as the last of the Race of the _Roman_
+Kings; whom I have often seen, and you have heard of; and whose Story is
+so well known to your self, and many Hundreds more: Part of which I had
+from the Mouth of this unhappy great Man, and was an Eye-Witness to the
+rest.
+
+’Tis true, Sir, I present you with a Prince unfortunate, but still the
+more noble Object for your Goodness and Pity; who never valu’d a brave
+Man the less for being unhappy. And whither shou’d the Afflicted flee
+for Refuge but to the Generous? Amongst all the Race, he cannot find a
+better Man, or more certain Friend: Nor amongst all his Ancestors, match
+your greater Soul, and Magnificence of Mind. He will behold in one
+_English_ Subject, a Spirit as illustrious, a Heart as fearless, a Wit
+and Eloquence as excellent, as _Rome_ it self cou’d produce. Its Senate
+scarce boasted of a better States-man, nor Augustus of a more faithful
+Subject; as your Imprisonment and Sufferings, through all the Course of
+our late National Distractions, have sufficiently manifested; But
+nothing cou’d press or deject your great Heart; you were the same Man
+still, unmov’d in all Turns, easie and innocent; no Persecution being
+able to abate your constant good Humour, or wonted Gallantry.
+
+If, Sir, you find here a Prince of less Fortitude and Vertue than your
+self, charge his Miscarriages on Love: a Weakness of that Nature you
+will easily excuse, (being so great a Friend to the Fair;) though
+possibly, he gave a Proof of it too Fatal to his Honour. Had I been to
+have form’d his Character, perhaps I had made him something more worthy
+of the Honour of your Protection: But I was oblig’d to pursue the Matter
+of Fact, and give a just Relation of that part of his Life which,
+possibly, was the only reproachful part of it. If he be so happy, as to
+entertain a Man of Wit and Business, I shall not fear his Welcome to the
+rest of the World: And ’tis only with your Passport he can hope to
+be so.
+
+The particular Obligations I have to your Bounty and Goodness, O Noble
+Friend, and Patron of the _Muses_! I do not so much as pretend to
+acknowledge in this little Present; those being above the Poet’s Pay,
+which is a sort of Coin, not currant in this Age: though perhaps may be
+esteem’d as Medals in the Cabinets of Men of Wit. If this be so happy to
+be of that Number, I desire no more lasting a Fame, that it may bear
+this Inscription, that I am,
+
+  SIR,
+    Your most Obliged, and
+      Most Humble Servant,
+        _A. BEHN_.
+
+
+
+
+THE _FAIR JILT_: or, The Amours of Prince _Tarquin_ and _Miranda_.
+
+
+As Love is the most noble and divine Passion of the Soul, so it is that
+to which we may justly attribute all the real Satisfactions of Life; and
+without it Man is unfinish’d and unhappy.
+
+There are a thousand things to be said of the Advantages this generous
+Passion brings to those, whose Hearts are capable of receiving its soft
+Impressions; for ’tis not every one that can be sensible of its tender
+Touches. How many Examples, from History and Observation, could I give
+of its wondrous Power; nay, even to a Degree of Transmigration! How many
+Idiots has it made wise! How many Fools eloquent! How many home-bred
+Squires accomplish’d! How many Cowards brave! And there is no sort of
+Species of Mankind on whom it cannot work some Change and Miracle, if it
+be a noble well-grounded Passion, except on the Fop in Fashion, the
+harden’d incorrigible Fop; so often wounded, but never reclaim’d: For
+still, by a dire Mistake, conducted by vast Opiniatrety, and a greater
+Portion of Self-love, than the rest of the Race of Man, he believes that
+Affectation in his Mein and Dress, that Mathematical Movement, that
+Formality in every Action, that a Face manag’d with Care, and soften’d
+into Ridicule, the languishing Turn, the Toss, and the Back-shake of the
+Periwig, is the direct Way to the Heart of the fine Person he adores;
+and instead of curing Love in his Soul, serves only to advance his
+Folly; and the more he is enamour’d, the more industriously he assumes
+(every Hour) the Coxcomb. These are Love’s Play-things, a sort of
+Animals with whom he sports; and whom he never wounds, but when he is in
+good Humour, and always shoots laughing. ’Tis the Diversion of the
+little God, to see what a Fluttering and Bustle one of these Sparks,
+new-wounded, makes; to what fantastick Fooleries he has Recourse: The
+Glass is every Moment call’d to counsel, the Valet consulted and plagu’d
+for new Invention of Dress, the Footman and Scrutore perpetually
+employ’d; _Billet-doux_ and _Madrigals_ take up all his Mornings, till
+Play-time in dressing, till Night in gazing; still, like a Sun-flower,
+turn’d towards the Beams of the fair Eyes of his _Cælia_, adjusting
+himself in the most amorous Posture he can assume, his Hat under his
+Arm, while the other Hand is put carelesly into his Bosom, as if laid
+upon his panting Heart; his Head a little bent to one Side, supported
+with a World of Cravat-string, which he takes mighty Care not to put
+into Disorder; as one may guess by a never-failing and horrid Stiffness
+in his Neck; and if he had any Occasion to look aside, his whole Body
+turns at the same Time, for Fear the Motion of the Head alone should
+incommode the Cravat or Periwig: And sometimes the Glove is well
+manag’d, and the white Hand display’d. Thus, with a thousand other
+little Motions and Formalities, all in the common Place or Road of
+Foppery, he takes infinite Pains to shew himself to the Pit and Boxes,
+a most accomplish’d Ass. This is he, of all human Kind, on whom Love can
+do no Miracles, and who can no where, and upon no Occasion, quit one
+Grain of his refin’d Foppery, unless in a Duel, or a Battle, if ever his
+Stars should be so severe and ill-manner’d, to reduce him to the
+Necessity of either: Fear then would ruffle that fine Form he had so
+long preserv’d in nicest Order, with Grief considering, that an unlucky
+Chance-wound in his Face, if such a dire Misfortune should befal him,
+would spoil the Sale of it for ever.
+
+Perhaps it will be urg’d, that since no Metamorphosis can be made in a
+Fop by Love, you must consider him one of those that only talks of Love,
+and thinks himself that happy Thing, a Lover; and wanting fine Sense
+enough for the real Passion, believes what he feels to be it. There are
+in the Quiver of the God a great many different Darts; some that wound
+for a Day, and others for a Year; they are all fine, painted, glittering
+Darts, and shew as well as those made of the noblest Metal; but the
+Wounds they make reach the Desire only, and are cur’d by possessing,
+while the short-liv’d Passion betrays the Cheat. But ’tis that refin’d
+and illustrious Passion of the Soul, whose Aim is Virtue, and whose end
+is Honour, that has the Power of changing Nature, and is capable of
+performing all those heroick Things, of which History is full.
+
+How far distant Passions may be from one another, I shall be able to
+make appear in these following Rules. I’ll prove to you the strong
+Effects of Love in some unguarded and ungovern’d Hearts; where it rages
+beyond the Inspirations of _a God all soft and gentle_, and reigns more
+like _a Fury from Hell_.
+
+I do not pretend here to entertain you with a feign’d Story, or any
+Thing piec’d together with romantick Accidents; but every Circumstance,
+to a Tittle, is Truth. To a great Part of the Main I myself was an
+Eye-witness; and what I did not see, I was confirm’d of by Actors in the
+Intrigue, Holy Men, of the Order of St. _Francis_: But for the Sake of
+some of her Relations, I shall give my _Fair Jilt_ a feign’d Name, that
+of _Miranda_; but my Hero must retain his own, it being too illustrious
+to be conceal’d.
+
+You are to understand, that in all the Catholick Countries, where Holy
+Orders are establish’d, there are abundance of differing Kinds of
+Religious, both of Men and Women. Amongst the Women, there are those we
+call _Nuns_, that make solemn Vows of perpetual Chastity; There are
+others who make but a simple Vow, as for five or ten Years, or more or
+less; and that time expir’d, they may contract anew for longer time, or
+marry, or dispose of themselves as they shall see good; and these are
+ordinarily call’d _Galloping Nuns_: Of these there are several Orders;
+as _Canonesses_, _Begines_, _Quests_, _Swart-Sisters_, and
+_Jesuitesses_, with several others I have forgot. Of those of the
+_Begines_ was our _Fair Votress_.
+
+These Orders are taken up by the best Persons of the Town, young Maids
+of Fortune, who live together, not inclos’d, but in Palaces that will
+hold about fifteen hundred or two thousand of these _Filles Devotes_;
+where they have a regulated Government, under a sort of _Abbess_, or
+_Prioress_, or rather a _Governante_. They are oblig’d to a Method of
+Devotion, and are under a sort of Obedience. They wear a Habit much like
+our Widows of Quality in _England_, only without a _Bando_; and their
+Veil is of a thicker Crape than what we have here, thro’ which one
+cannot see the Face; for when they go abroad, they cover themselves all
+over with it; but they put ’em up in the Churches, and lay ’em by in the
+Houses. Every one of these have a Confessor, who is to ’em a sort of
+Steward: For, you must know, they that go into these Places, have the
+Management of their own Fortunes, and what their Parents design ’em.
+Without the Advice of this Confessor, they act nothing, nor admit of a
+Lover that he shall not approve; at least, this Method ought to be
+taken, and is by almost all of ’em; tho’ _Miranda_ thought her Wit above
+it, as her Spirit was.
+
+But as these Women are, as I said, of the best Quality, and live with
+the Reputation of being retir’d from the World a little more than
+ordinary, and because there is a sort of Difficulty to approach ’em,
+they are the People the most courted, and liable to the greatest
+Temptations; for as difficult as it seems to be, they receive Visits
+from all the Men of the best Quality, especially Strangers. All the Men
+of Wit and Conversation meet at the Apartments of these fair _Filles
+Devotes_, where all Manner of Gallantries are perform’d, while all the
+Study of these Maids is to accomplish themselves for these noble
+Conversations. They receive Presents, Balls, Serenades, and Billets; All
+the News, Wit, Verses, Songs, Novels, Musick, Gaming, and all fine
+Diversion, is in their Apartments, they themselves being of the best
+Quality and Fortune. So that to manage these Gallantries, there is no
+sort of Female Arts they are not practis’d in, no Intrigue they are
+ignorant of, and no Management of which they are not capable.
+
+Of this happy Number was the fair _Miranda_, whose Parents being dead,
+and a vast Estate divided between her self and a young Sister, (who
+liv’d with an unmarry’d old Uncle, whose Estate afterwards was all
+divided between ’em) she put her self into this uninclos’d religious
+House; but her Beauty, which had all the Charms that ever Nature gave,
+became the Envy of the whole _Sisterhood_. She was tall, and admirably
+shaped; she had a bright Hair, and Hazle-Eyes, all full of Love and
+Sweetness: No Art could make a Face so fair as hers by Nature, which
+every Feature adorn’d with a Grace that Imagination cannot reach: Every
+Look, every Motion charm’d, and her black Dress shew’d the Lustre of her
+Face and Neck. She had an Air, though gay as so much Youth could
+inspire, yet so modest, so nobly reserv’d, without Formality, or
+Stiffness, that one who look’d on her would have imagin’d her Soul the
+Twin-Angel of her Body; and both together made her appear something
+divine. To this she had a great deal of Wit, read much, and retain’d all
+that serv’d her Purpose. She sung delicately, and danc’d well, and
+play’d on the Lute to a Miracle. She spoke several Languages naturally;
+for being Co-heiress to so great a Fortune, she was bred with the nicest
+Care, in all the finest Manners of Education; and was now arriv’d to her
+Eighteenth Year.
+
+’Twere needless to tell you how great a Noise the Fame of this young
+Beauty, with so considerable a Fortune, made in the World: I may say,
+the World, rather than confine her Fame to the scanty Limits of a Town;
+it reach’d to many others: And there was not a Man of any Quality that
+came to _Antwerp_, or pass’d thro’ the City, but made it his Business to
+see the lovely _Miranda_, who was universally ador’d: Her Youth and
+Beauty, her Shape, and Majesty of Mein, and Air of Greatness, charm’d
+all her Beholders; and thousands of People were dying by her Eyes, while
+she was vain enough to glory in her Conquests, and make it her Business
+to wound. She lov’d nothing so much as to behold sighing Slaves at her
+Feet, of the greatest Quality; and treated them all with an Affability
+that gave them Hope. Continual Musick, as soon as it was dark, and Songs
+of dying Lovers, were sung under her Windows; and she might well have
+made herself a great Fortune (if she had not been so already) by the
+rich Presents that were hourly made her; and every body daily expected
+when she would make some one happy, by suffering her self to be
+conquer’d by Love and Honour, by the Assiduities and Vows of some one of
+her Adorers. But _Miranda_ accepted their Presents, heard their Vows
+with Pleasure, and willingly admitted all their soft Addresses; but
+would not yield her Heart, or give away that lovely Person to the
+Possession of one, who could please it self with so many. She was
+naturally amorous, but extremely inconstant: She lov’d one for his Wit,
+another for his Face, and a third for his Mein; but above all, she
+admir’d Quality: Quality alone had the Power to attach her entirely; yet
+not to one Man, but that Virtue was still admir’d by her in all:
+Where-ever she found that, she lov’d, or at least acted the Lover with
+such Art, that (deceiving well) she fail’d not to compleat her Conquest;
+and yet she never durst trust her fickle Humour with Marriage. She knew
+the Strength of her own Heart, and that it could not suffer itself to be
+confin’d to one Man, and wisely avoided those Inquietudes, and that
+Uneasiness of Life she was sure to find in that married State, which
+would, against her Nature, oblige her to the Embraces of one, whose
+Humour was, to love all the Young and the Gay. But Love, who had
+hitherto only play’d with her Heart, and given it nought but pleasing
+wanton Wounds, such as afforded only soft Joys, and not Pains, resolv’d,
+either out of Revenge to those Numbers she had abandon’d, and who had
+sigh’d so long in vain, or to try what Power he had upon so fickle a
+Heart, to send an Arrow dipp’d in the most tormenting Flames that rage
+in Hearts most sensible. He struck it home and deep, with all the Malice
+of an angry God.
+
+There was a Church belonging to the _Cordeliers_, whither _Miranda_
+often repair’d to her Devotion; and being there one Day, accompany’d
+with a young Sister of the Order, after the Mass was ended, as ’tis the
+Custom, some one of the Fathers goes about the Church with a Box for
+Contribution, or Charity-Money: It happen’d that Day, that a young
+Father, newly initiated, carried the Box about, which, in his Turn, he
+brought to _Miranda_. She had no sooner cast her Eyes on this young
+Friar, but her Face was overspread with Blushes of Surprize: She beheld
+him stedfastly, and saw in his Face all the Charms of Youth, Wit, and
+Beauty; he wanted no one Grace that could form him for Love, he appear’d
+all that is adorable to the Fair Sex, nor could the mis-shapen Habit
+hide from her the lovely Shape it endeavour’d to cover, nor those
+delicate Hands that approach’d her too near with the Box. Besides the
+Beauty of his Face and Shape, he had an Air altogether great, in spite
+of his profess’d Poverty, it betray’d the Man of Quality; and that
+Thought weigh’d greatly with _Miranda_. But Love, who did not design she
+should now feel any sort of those easy Flames, with which she had
+heretofore burnt, made her soon lay all those Considerations aside,
+which us’d to invite her to love, and now lov’d she knew not why.
+
+She gaz’d upon him, while he bow’d before her, and waited for her
+Charity, till she perceiv’d the lovely Friar to blush, and cast his Eyes
+to the Ground. This awaken’d her Shame, and she put her Hand into her
+Pocket, and was a good while in searching for her Purse, as if she
+thought of nothing less than what she was about; at last she drew it
+out, and gave him a Pistole; but with so much Deliberation and Leisure,
+as easily betray’d the Satisfaction she took in looking on him; while
+the good Man, having receiv’d her Bounty, after a very low Obeysance,
+proceeded to the rest; and _Miranda_ casting after him a Look all
+languishing, as long as he remain’d in the Church, departed with a Sigh
+as soon as she saw him go out, and returned to her Apartment without
+speaking one Word all the Way to the young _Fille Devote_, who attended
+her; so absolutely was her Soul employ’d with this young Holy Man.
+_Cornelia_ (so was this Maid call’d who was with her) perceiving she was
+so silent, who us’d to be all Wit and good Humour, and observing her
+little Disorder at the Sight of the young Father, tho’ she was far from
+imagining it to be Love, took an Occasion, when she was come home, to
+speak of him. ‘Madam, _said she_, did you not observe that fine young
+_Cordelier_, who brought the Box?’ At a Question that nam’d that Object
+of her Thoughts, _Miranda_ blush’d; and she finding she did so,
+redoubled her Confusion, and she had scarce Courage enough to
+say,--_Yes, I did observe him_: And then, forcing herself to smile a
+little, continu’d, ‘And I wonder’d to see so jolly a young Friar of an
+Order so severe and mortify’d.--Madam, (_reply’d +Cornelia+_) when you
+know his _Story_, you will not wonder.’ _Miranda_, who was impatient to
+know all that concern’d her new Conqueror, obliged her to tell his
+Story; and _Cornelia_ obey’d, and proceeded.
+
+
+  _The Story of Prince +Henrick+._
+
+‘You must know, Madam, that this young Holy Man is a Prince of
+_Germany_, of the House of ----, whose Fate it was, to fall most
+passionately in Love with a fair young Lady, who lov’d him with an
+Ardour equal to what he vow’d her. Sure of her Heart, and wanting only
+the Approbation of her Parents, and his own, which her Quality did not
+suffer him to despair of, he boasted of his Happiness to a young Prince,
+his elder Brother, a Youth amorous and fierce, impatient of Joys, and
+sensible of Beauty, taking Fire with all fair Eyes: He was his Father’s
+Darling, and Delight of his fond Mother; and, by an Ascendant over both
+their Hearts, rul’d their Wills.
+
+‘This young Prince no sooner saw, but lov’d the fair Mistress of his
+Brother; and with an Authority of a Sovereign, rather than the Advice of
+a Friend, warn’d his Brother _Henrick_ (this now young Friar) to
+approach no more this Lady, whom he had seen; and seeing, lov’d.
+
+‘In vain the poor surpriz’d Prince pleads his Right of Love, his
+Exchange of Vows, and Assurance of a Heart that could never be but for
+himself. In vain he urges his Nearness of Blood, his Friendship, his
+Passion, or his Life, which so entirely depended on the Possession of
+the charming Maid. All his Pleading serv’d but to blow his Brother’s
+Flame; and the more he implores, the more the other burns; and while
+_Henrick_ follows him, on his Knees, with humble Submissions, the other
+flies from him in Rages of transported Love; nor could his Tears, that
+pursu’d his Brother’s Steps, move him to Pity: Hot-headed,
+vain-conceited of his Beauty, and greater Quality as elder Brother, he
+doubts not of Success, and resolv’d to sacrifice all to the Violence of
+his new-born Passion.
+
+‘In short, he speaks of his Design to his Mother, who promis’d him her
+Assistance; and accordingly proposing it first to the Prince her
+Husband, urging the Languishment of her Son, she soon wrought so on him,
+that a Match being concluded between the Parents of this young Beauty,
+and _Henrick’s_ Brother, the Hour was appointed before she knew of the
+Sacrifice she was to be made. And while this was in Agitation, _Henrick_
+was sent on some great Affairs, up into _Germany_, far out of the Way;
+not but his boding Heart, with perpetual Sighs and Throbs, eternally
+foretold him his Fate.
+
+‘All the Letters he wrote were intercepted, as well as those she wrote
+to him. She finds herself every Day perplex’d with the Addresses of the
+Prince she hated; he was ever sighing at her Feet. In vain were all her
+reproaches, and all her Coldness, he was on the surer Side; for what he
+found Love would not do, Force of Parents would.
+
+‘She complains, in her Heart, of young _Henrick_, from whom she could
+never receive one Letter; and at last could not forbear bursting into
+Tears, in spite of all her Force, and feign’d Courage, when, on a Day,
+the Prince told her, that _Henrick_ was withdrawn to give him Time to
+court her; to whom he said, he confess’d he had made some Vows, but did
+repent of ’em, knowing himself too young to make ’em good: That it was
+for that Reason he brought him first to see her; and for that Reason,
+that after that, he never saw her more, nor so much as took Leave of
+her; when, indeed, his Death lay upon the next Visit, his Brother having
+sworn to murder him; and to that End, put a Guard upon him, till he was
+sent into _Germany_.
+
+‘All this he utter’d with so many passionate Asseverations, Vows, and
+seeming Pity for her being so inhumanly abandon’d, that she almost gave
+Credit to all he had said, and had much ado to keep herself within the
+Bounds of Moderation, and silent Grief. Her Heart was breaking, her Eyes
+languish’d, and her Cheeks grew pale, and she had like to have fallen
+dead into the treacherous Arms of him that had reduc’d her to this
+Discovery; but she did what she could to assume her Courage, and to shew
+as little Resentment as possible for a Heart, like hers, oppress’d with
+Love, and now abandon’d by the dear Subject of its Joys and Pains.
+
+‘But, Madam, not to tire you with this Adventure, the Day arriv’d
+wherein our still weeping Fair Unfortunate was to be sacrific’d to the
+Capriciousness of Love; and she was carry’d to Court by her Parents,
+without knowing to what End, where she was even compell’d to marry the
+Prince.
+
+‘_Henrick_, who all this While knew no more of his Unhappiness, than
+what his Fears suggested, returns, and passes even to the Presence of
+his Father, before he knew any Thing of his Fortune; where he beheld his
+Mistress and his Brother, with his Father, in such a Familiarity, as he
+no longer doubted his Destiny. ’Tis hard to judge, whether the Lady, or
+himself, was most surpriz’d; she was all pale and unmoveable in her
+Chair, and _Henrick_ fix’d like a Statue; at last Grief and Rage took
+Place of Amazement, and he could not forbear crying out, _Ah, Traytor!
+Is it thus you have treated a Friend and Brother? And you, O perjur’d
+Charmer! Is it thus you have rewarded all my Vows?_ He could say no
+more; but reeling against the Door, had fallen in a Swoon upon the
+Floor, had not his Page caught him in his Arms, who was entring with
+him. The good old Prince, the Father, who knew not what all this meant,
+was soon inform’d by the young weeping Princess; who, in relating the
+Story of her Amour with _Henrick_, told her Tale in so moving a Manner,
+as brought Tears to the Old Man’s Eyes, and Rage to those of her
+Husband; he immediately grew jealous to the last Degree: He finds
+himself in Possession (’tis true) of the Beauty he ador’d, but the
+Beauty adoring another; a Prince young and charming as the Light, soft,
+witty, and raging with an equal Passion. He finds this dreaded Rival in
+the same House with him, with an Authority equal to his own; and
+fancies, where two Hearts are so entirely agreed, and have so good an
+Understanding, it would not be impossible to find Opportunities to
+satisfy and ease that mutual Flame, that burnt so equally in both; he
+therefore resolved to send him out of the World, and to establish his
+own Repose by a Deed, wicked, cruel, and unnatural, to have him
+assassinated the first Opportunity he could find. This Resolution set
+him a little at Ease, and he strove to dissemble Kindness to _Henrick_,
+with all the Art he was capable of, suffering him to come often to the
+Apartment of the Princess, and to entertain her oftentimes with
+Discourse, when he was not near enough to hear what he spoke; but still
+watching their Eyes, he found those of _Henrick_ full of Tears, ready to
+flow, but restrain’d, looking all dying, and yet reproaching, while
+those of the Princess were ever bent to the Earth, and she as much as
+possible, shunning his Conversation. Yet this did not satisfy the
+jealous Husband; ’twas not her Complaisance that could appease him; he
+found her Heart was panting within, whenever _Henrick_ approach’d her,
+and every Visit more and more confirmed his Death.
+
+‘The Father often found the Disorders of the Sons; the Softness and
+Address of the one gave him as much Fear, as the angry Blushings, the
+fierce Looks, and broken Replies of the other, whenever he beheld
+_Henrick_ approach his Wife; so that the Father, fearing some ill
+Consequence of this, besought _Henrick_ to withdraw to some other
+Country, or travel into _Italy_, he being now of an Age that required a
+View of the World. He told his Father, That he would obey his Commands,
+tho’ he was certain, that Moment he was to be separated from the Sight
+of the fair Princess, his Sister, would be the last of his Life; and, in
+fine, made so pitiful a Story of his suffering Love, as almost moved the
+old Prince to compassionate him so far, as to permit him to stay; but he
+saw inevitable Danger in that, and therefore bid him prepare for his
+Journey.
+
+‘That which pass’d between the Father and _Henrick_, being a Secret,
+none talked of his departing from Court; so that the Design the Brother
+had went on; and making a Hunting-Match one Day, where most young People
+of Quality were, he order’d some whom he had hired to follow his
+Brother, so as if he chanced to go out of the Way, to dispatch him; and
+accordingly, Fortune gave ’em an Opportunity; for he lagg’d behind the
+Company, and turn’d aside into a pleasant Thicket of Hazles, where
+alighting, he walk’d on Foot in the most pleasant Part of it, full of
+Thought, how to divide his Soul between Love and Obedience. He was
+sensible that he ought not to stay; that he was but an Affliction to the
+young Princess, whose Honour could never permit her to ease any Part of
+his Flame; nor was he so vicious to entertain a Thought that should
+stain her Virtue. He beheld her now as his Brother’s Wife, and that
+secured his Flame from all loose Desires, if her native Modesty had not
+been sufficient of itself to have done it, as well as that profound
+Respect he paid her; and he consider’d, in obeying his Father, he left
+her at Ease, and his Brother freed of a thousand Fears; he went to seek
+a Cure, which if he could not find, at last he could but die; and so he
+must, even at her Feet: However, that it was more noble to seek a Remedy
+for his Disease, than expect a certain Death by staying. After a
+thousand Reflections on his hard Fate, and bemoaning himself, and
+blaming his cruel Stars, that had doom’d him to die so young, after an
+Infinity of Sighs and Tears, Resolvings and Unresolvings, he, on the
+sudden, was interrupted by the trampling of some Horses he heard, and
+their rushing through the Boughs, and saw four Men make towards him: He
+had not time to mount, being walk’d some Paces from his Horse. One of
+the Men advanced, and cry’d, _Prince, you must die_--_I do believe
+thee_, (reply’d _Henrick_) _but not by a Hand so base as thine_: And at
+the same Time drawing his Sword, run him into the Groin. When the Fellow
+found himself so wounded, he wheel’d off and cry’d, _Thou art a Prophet,
+and hast rewarded my Treachery with Death._ The rest came up, and one
+shot at the Prince, and shot him in the Shoulder; the other two hastily
+laying hold (but too late) on the Hand of the Murderer, cry’d, _Hold,
+Traytor; we relent, and he shall not die._ He reply’d, _’Tis too late,
+he is shot; and see, he lies dead. Let us provide for ourselves, and
+tell the Prince, we have done the Work; for you are as guilty as I am._
+At that they all fled, and left the Prince lying under a Tree, weltering
+in his Blood.
+
+‘About the Evening, the Forester going his Walks, saw the Horse, richly
+caparison’d, without a Rider, at the Entrance of the Wood; and going
+farther, to see if he could find its Owner, found there the Prince
+almost dead; he immediately mounts him on the Horse, and himself behind,
+bore him up, and carry’d him to the Lodge; where he had only one old
+Man, his Father, well skilled in Surgery, and a Boy. They put him to
+Bed; and the old Forester, with what Art he had, dress’d his Wounds, and
+in the Morning sent for an abler Surgeon, to whom the Prince enjoin’d
+Secrecy, because he knew him. The Man was faithful, and the Prince in
+Time was recover’d of his Wound; and as soon as he was well, he came to
+_Flanders_, in the Habit of a Pilgrim, and after some Time took the
+Order of St. _Francis_, none knowing what became of him, till he was
+profess’d; and then he wrote his own Story to the Prince his Father, to
+his Mistress, and his ungrateful Brother. The young Princess did not
+long survive his Loss, she languished from the Moment of his Departure;
+and he had this to confirm his devout Life, to know she dy’d for him.
+
+‘My Brother, Madam, was an Officer under the Prince his Father, and knew
+his Story perfectly well; from whose Mouth I had it.’
+
+_What!_ (reply’d _Miranda_ then) _is Father +Henrick+ a Man of Quality_?
+_Yes, Madam_, (said _Cornelia_) _and has changed his Name to
++Francisco+._ But _Miranda_, fearing to betray the Sentiments of her
+Heart, by asking any more Questions about him, turned the Discourse; and
+some Persons of Quality came in to visit her (for her Apartment was
+about six o’Clock, like the Presence-Chamber of a Queen, always filled
+with the greatest People): There meet all the _Beaux Esprits_, and all
+the Beauties. But it was visible _Miranda_ was not so gay as she used to
+be; but pensive, and answering _mal a propos_ to all that was said to
+her. She was a thousand times going to speak, against her Will,
+something of the charming Friar, who was never from her Thoughts; and
+she imagined, if he could inspire Love in a coarse, grey, ill-made
+Habit, a shorn Crown, a Hair-cord about his Waist, bare-legg’d, in
+Sandals instead of Shoes; what must he do, when looking back on Time,
+she beholds him in a Prospect of Glory, with all that Youth, and
+illustrious Beauty, set off by the Advantage of Dress and Equipage? She
+frames an Idea of him all gay and splendid, and looks on his present
+Habit as some Disguise proper for the Stealths of Love; some feigned
+put-on Shape, with the more Security to approach a Mistress, and make
+himself happy; and that the Robe laid by, she has the Lover in his
+proper Beauty, the same he would have been, if any other Habit (though
+ever so rich) were put off: In the Bed, the silent gloomy Night, and the
+soft Embraces of her Arms, he loses all the Friar, and assumes all the
+Prince; and that aweful Reverence, due alone to his Holy Habit, he
+exchanges for a thousand Dalliances, for which his Youth was made; for
+Love, for tender Embraces, and all the Happiness of Life. Some Moments
+she fancies him a Lover, and that the fair Object that takes up all his
+Heart, has left no Room for her there; but that was a Thought that did
+not long perplex her, and which, almost as soon as born, she turned to
+her Advantage. She beholds him a Lover, and therefore finds he has a
+Heart sensible and tender; he had Youth to be fir’d, as well as to
+inspire; he was far from the loved Object, and totally without Hope; and
+she reasonably consider’d, that Flame would of itself soon die, that had
+only Despair to feed on. She beheld her own Charms; and Experience, as
+well as her Glass, told her, they never failed of Conquest, especially
+where they designed it: And she believed _Henrick_ would be glad, at
+least, to quench that Flame in himself, by an Amour with her, which was
+kindled by the young Princess of ---- his Sister.
+
+These, and a thousand other Self-flatteries, all vain and indiscreet,
+took up her waking Nights, and now more retired Days; while Love, to
+make her truly wretched, suffered her to sooth herself with fond
+Imaginations; not so much as permitting her Reason to plead one Moment
+to save her from undoing: She would not suffer it to tell her, he had
+taken Holy Orders, made sacred and solemn Vows of everlasting Chastity,
+that it was impossible he could marry her, or lay before her any
+Argument that might prevent her Ruin; but Love, mad malicious Love, was
+always called to Counsel, and, like easy Monarchs, she had no Ears, but
+for Flatterers.
+
+Well then, she is resolv’d to love, without considering to what End, and
+what must be the Consequence of such an Amour. She now miss’d no Day of
+being at that little Church, where she had the Happiness, or rather the
+Misfortune (so Love ordained) to see this Ravisher of her Heart and
+Soul; and every Day she took new Fire from his lovely Eyes. Unawares,
+unknown, and unwillingly, he gave her Wounds, and the Difficulty of her
+Cure made her rage the more: She burnt, she languished, and died for the
+young Innocent, who knew not he was the Author of so much Mischief.
+
+Now she resolves a thousand Ways in her tortur’d Mind, to let him know
+her Anguish, and at last pitch’d upon that of writing to him soft
+Billets, which she had learn’d the Art of doing; or if she had not, she
+had now Fire enough to inspire her with all that could charm and move.
+These she deliver’d to a young Wench, who waited on her, and whom she
+had entirely subdu’d to her Interest, to give to a certain Lay-Brother
+of the Order, who was a very simple harmless Wretch, and who served in
+the Kitchen, in the Nature of a Cook, in the Monastery of _Cordeliers_.
+She gave him Gold to secure his Faith and Service; and not knowing from
+whence they came (with so good Credentials) he undertook to deliver the
+Letters to Father _Francisco_; which Letters were all afterwards, as you
+shall hear, produced in open Court. These Letters failed not to come
+every Day; and the Sense of the first was, to tell him, that a very
+beautiful young Lady, of a great Fortune, was in love with him, without
+naming her; but it came as from a third Person, to let him know the
+Secret, that she desir’d he would let her know whether she might hope
+any Return from him; assuring him, he needed but only see the fair
+Languisher, to confess himself her Slave.
+
+This Letter being deliver’d him, he read by himself, and was surpriz’d
+to receive Words of this Nature, being so great a Stranger in that
+Place; and could not imagine or would not give himself the Trouble of
+guessing who this should be, because he never designed to make Returns.
+
+The next Day, _Miranda_, finding no Advantage from her Messenger of
+Love, in the Evening sends another (impatient of Delay) confessing that
+she who suffer’d the Shame of writing and imploring, was the Person
+herself who ador’d him. ’Twas there her raging Love made her say all
+Things that discover’d the Nature of its Flame, and propose to flee with
+him to any Part of the World, if he would quit the Convent; that she had
+a Fortune considerable enough to make him happy; and that his Youth and
+Quality were not given him to so unprofitable an End as to lose
+themselves in a Convent, where Poverty and Ease was all the Business. In
+fine, she leaves nothing unurg’d that might debauch and invite him; not
+forgetting to send him her own Character of Beauty, and left him to
+judge of her Wit and Spirit by her Writing, and her Love by the
+Extremity of Passion she profess’d. To all which the lovely Friar made
+no Return, as believing a gentle Capitulation or Exhortation to her
+would but inflame her the more, and give new Occasions for her
+continuing to write. All her Reasonings, false and vicious, he despis’d,
+pity’d the Error of her Love, and was Proof against all she could plead.
+Yet notwithstanding his Silence, which left her in Doubt, and more
+tormented her, she ceas’d not to pursue him with her Letters, varying
+her Style; sometimes all wanton, loose and raving; sometimes feigning a
+Virgin-Modesty all over, accusing her self, blaming her Conduct, and
+sighing her Destiny, as one compell’d to the shameful Discovery by the
+Austerity of his Vow and Habit, asking his Pity and Forgiveness; urging
+him in Charity to use his Fatherly Care to persuade and reason with her
+wild Desires, and by his Counsel drive the God from her Heart, whose
+Tyranny was worse than that of a Fiend; and he did not know what his
+pious Advice might do. But still she writes in vain, in vain she varies
+her Style, by a Cunning, peculiar to a Maid possess’d with such a sort
+of Passion.
+
+This cold Neglect was still Oil to the burning Lamp, and she tries yet
+more Arts, which for want of right Thinking were as fruitless. She has
+Recourse to Presents; her Letters came loaded with Rings of great Price,
+and Jewels, which Fops of Quality had given her. Many of this Sort he
+receiv’d, before he knew where to return ’em, or how; and on this
+Occasion alone he sent her a Letter, and restor’d her Trifles, as he
+call’d them: But his Habit having not made him forget his Quality and
+Education, he wrote to her with all the profound Respect imaginable;
+believing by her Presents, and the Liberality with which she parted with
+’em, that she was of Quality. But the whole Letter, as he told me
+afterwards, was to persuade her from the Honour she did him, by loving
+him; urging a thousand Reasons, solid and pious, and assuring her, he
+had wholly devoted the rest of his Days to Heaven, and had no Need of
+those gay Trifles she had sent him, which were only fit to adorn Ladies
+so fair as herself, and who had Business with this glittering World,
+which he disdain’d, and had for ever abandon’d. He sent her a thousand
+Blessings, and told her, she should be ever in his Prayers, tho’ not in
+his Heart, as she desir’d: And abundance of Goodness more he express’d,
+and Counsel he gave her, which had the same Effect with his Silence; it
+made her love but the more, and the more impatient she grew. She now had
+a new Occasion to write, she now is charm’d with his Wit; this was the
+new Subject. She rallies his Resolution, and endeavours to re-call him
+to the World, by all the Arguments that human Invention is capable of.
+
+But when she had above four Months languish’d thus in vain, not missing
+one Day, wherein she went not to see him, without discovering herself to
+him; she resolv’d, as her last Effort, to shew her Person, and see what
+that, assisted by her Tears, and soft Words from her Mouth, could do, to
+prevail upon him.
+
+It happen’d to be on the Eve of that Day when she was to receive the
+Sacrament, that she, covering herself with her Veil, came to _Vespers_,
+purposing to make Choice of the conquering Friar for her Confessor.
+
+She approach’d him; and as she did so, she trembled with Love. At last
+she cry’d, _Father, my Confessor is gone for some Time from the Town,
+and I am obliged To-morrow to receive, and beg you will be pleas’d to
+take my Confession._
+
+He could not refuse her; and let her into the _Sacristy_, where there is
+a Confession-Chair, in which he seated himself; and on one Side of him
+she kneel’d down, over-against a little Altar, where the Priests Robes
+lye, on which were plac’d some lighted Wax-Candles, that made the little
+Place very light and splendid, which shone full upon _Miranda_.
+
+After the little Preparation usual in Confession, she turn’d up her
+Veil, and discover’d to his View the most wondrous Object of Beauty he
+had ever seen, dress’d in all the Glory of a young Bride; her Hair and
+Stomacher full of Diamonds, that gave a Lustre all dazling to her
+brighter Face and Eyes. He was surpriz’d at her amazing Beauty, and
+question’d whether he saw a Woman, or an Angel at his Feet. Her Hands,
+which were elevated, as if in Prayer, seem’d to be form’d of polish’d
+Alabaster; and he confess’d, he had never seen any Thing in Nature so
+perfect and so admirable.
+
+He had some Pain to compose himself to hear her Confession, and was
+oblig’d to turn away his Eyes, that his Mind might not be perplex’d with
+an Object so diverting; when _Miranda_, opening the finest Mouth in the
+World, and discovering new Charms, began her Confession.
+
+‘Holy Father (_said she_) amongst the Number of my vile Offences, that
+which afflicts me to the greatest Degree, is, that I am in love: Not
+(_continued she_) that I believe simple and virtuous Love a Sin, when
+’tis plac’d on an Object proper and suitable; but, my dear Father,
+(_said she, and wept_) I love with a Violence which cannot be contain’d
+within the Bounds of Reason, Moderation, or Virtue. I love a Man whom I
+cannot possess without a Crime, and a Man who cannot make me happy
+without being perjur’d. Is he marry’d? (_reply’d the Father._) No;
+(_answer’d +Miranda+._) Are you so? (_continued he._) Neither, (_said
+she._) Is he too near ally’d to you? (_said +Francisco+:_) a Brother, or
+Relation? Neither of these, (_said she._) He is unenjoy’d, unpromis’d;
+and so am I: Nothing opposes our Happiness, or makes my Love a Vice, but
+you--’Tis you deny me Life: ’Tis you that forbid my Flame: ’Tis you will
+have me die, and seek my Remedy in my Grave, when I complain of
+Tortures, Wounds, and Flames. O cruel Charmer! ’tis for you I languish;
+and here, at your Feet, implore that Pity, which all my Addresses have
+fail’d of procuring me.’--
+
+With that, perceiving he was about to rise from his Seat, she held him
+by his Habit, and vow’d she would in that Posture follow him, where-ever
+he flew from her. She elevated her Voice so loud, he was afraid she
+might be heard, and therefore suffer’d her to force him into his Chair
+again; where being seated, he began, in the most passionate Terms
+imaginable, to dissuade her; but finding she the more persisted in
+Eagerness of Passion, he us’d all the tender Assurance that he could
+force from himself, that he would have for her all the Respect, Esteem
+and Friendship that he was capable of paying; that he had a real
+Compassion for her: and at last she prevail’d so far with him, by her
+Sighs and Tears, as to own he had a Tenderness for her, and that he
+could not behold so many Charms, without being sensibly touch’d by ’em,
+and finding all those Effects, that a Maid so fair and young causes in
+the Souls of Men of Youth and Sense: But that, as he was assured, he
+could never be so happy to marry her, and as certain he could not grant
+any Thing but honourable Passion, he humbly besought her not to expect
+more from him than such. And then began to tell her how short Life was,
+and transitory its Joys; how soon she would grow weary of Vice, and how
+often change to find real Repose in it, but never arrive to it. He made
+an End, by new Assurance of his eternal Friendship, but utterly forbad
+her to hope.
+
+Behold her now deny’d, refus’d and defeated, with all her pleading
+Youth, Beauty, Tears, and Knees, imploring, as she lay, holding fast his
+_Scapular_, and embracing his Feet. What shall she do? She swells with
+Pride, Love, Indignation and Desire; her burning Heart is bursting with
+Despair, her Eyes grow fierce, and from Grief she rises to a Storm; and
+in her Agony of Passion, with Looks all disdainful, haughty, and full of
+Rage, she began to revile him, as the poorest of Animals; tells him his
+Soul was dwindled to the Meanness of his Habit, and his Vows of Poverty
+were suited to his degenerate Mind. ‘And (_said she_) since all my
+nobler Ways have fail’d me; and that, for a little Hypocritical
+Devotion, you resolve to lose the greatest Blessings of Life, and to
+sacrifice me to your Religious Pride and Vanity, I will either force you
+to abandon that dull Dissimulation, or you shall die, to prove your
+Sanctity real. Therefore answer me immediately, answer my Flame, my
+raging Fire, which your Eyes have kindled; or here, in this very Moment,
+I will ruin thee; and make no Scruple of revenging the Pains I suffer,
+by that which shall take away your Life and Honour.’
+
+The trembling young Man, who, all this While, with extreme Anguish of
+Mind, and Fear of the dire Result, had listen’d to her Ravings, full of
+Dread, demanded what she would have him do? When she reply’d--‘Do that
+which thy Youth and Beauty were ordain’d to do:--this Place is private,
+a sacred Silence reigns here, and no one dares to pry into the Secrets
+of this Holy Place: We are as secure from Fears and Interruption, as in
+Desarts uninhabited, or Caves forsaken by wild Beasts. The Tapers too
+shall veil their Lights, and only that glimmering Lamp shall be Witness
+of our dear Stealths of Love--Come to my Arms, my trembling, longing
+Arms; and curse the Folly of thy Bigotry, that has made thee so long
+lose a Blessing, for which so many Princes sigh in vain.’
+
+At these Words she rose from his Feet, and snatching him in her Arms, he
+could not defend himself from receiving a thousand Kisses from the
+lovely Mouth of the charming Wanton; after which, she ran herself, and
+in an Instant put out the Candles. But he cry’d to her, ‘In vain, O too
+indiscreet Fair One, in vain you put out the Light; for Heaven still has
+Eyes, and will look down upon my broken Vows. I own your Power, I own I
+have all the Sense in the World of your charming Touches; I am frail
+Flesh and Blood, but--yet--yet I can resist; and I prefer my Vows to all
+your powerful Temptations.--I will be deaf and blind, and guard my Heart
+with Walls of Ice, and make you know, that when the Flames of true
+Devotion are kindled in a Heart, it puts out all other Fires; which are
+as ineffectual, as Candles lighted in the Face of the Sun.--Go, vain
+Wanton, and repent, and mortify that Blood which has so shamefully
+betray’d thee, and which will one Day ruin both thy Soul and Body.’--
+
+At these Words _Miranda_, more enrag’d, the nearer she imagin’d her self
+to Happiness, made no Reply; but throwing her self, in that Instant,
+into the Confessing-Chair, and violently pulling the young Friar into
+her Lap, she elevated her Voice to such a Degree, in crying out, _Help,
+Help! A Rape! Help, Help!_ that she was heard all over the Church, which
+was full of People at the Evening’s Devotion; who flock’d about the Door
+of the _Sacristy_, which was shut with a Spring-Lock on the Inside, but
+they durst not open the Door.
+
+’Tis easily to be imagin’d, in what Condition our young Friar was, at
+this last devilish Stratagem of his wicked Mistress. He strove to break
+from those Arms that held him so fast; and his Bustling to get away, and
+her’s to retain him, disorder’d her Hair and Habit to such a Degree, as
+gave the more Credit to her false Accusation.
+
+The Fathers had a Door on the other Side, by which they usually enter’d,
+to dress in this little Room; and at the Report that was in an Instant
+made ’em, they hasted thither, and found _Miranda_ and the good Father
+very indecently struggling; which they mis-interpreted, as _Miranda_
+desir’d; who, all in Tears, immediately threw her self at the Feet of
+the Provincial, who was one of those that enter’d; and cry’d, ‘O holy
+Father! revenge an innocent Maid, undone and lost to Fame and Honour, by
+that vile Monster, born of Goats, nurs’d by Tygers, and bred up on
+savage Mountains, where Humanity and Religion are Strangers. For, O holy
+Father, could it have enter’d into the Heart of Man, to have done so
+barbarous and horrid a Deed, as to attempt the Virgin-Honour of an
+unspotted Maid, and one of my Degree, even in the Moment of my
+Confession, in that holy Time, when I was prostrate before him and
+Heaven, confessing those Sins that press’d my tender Conscience; even
+then to load my Soul with the blackest of Infamies, to add to my Number
+a Weight that must sink me to Hell? Alas! under the Security of his
+innocent Looks, his holy Habit, and his aweful Function, I was led into
+this Room to make my Confession; where, he locking the Door, I had no
+sooner began, but he gazing on me, took fire at my fatal Beauty; and
+starting up, put out the Candles and caught me in his Arms; and raising
+me from the Pavement, set me in the Confession-Chair; and then--Oh,
+spare me the rest.’
+
+With that a Shower of Tears burst from her fair dissembling Eyes, and
+Sobs so naturally acted, and so well manag’d, as left no doubt upon the
+good Men, but all she had spoken was Truth.
+
+‘--At first, (_proceeded she_) I was unwilling to bring so great a
+Scandal on his Order, to cry out; but struggled as long as I had Breath;
+pleaded the Heinousness of the Crime, urging my Quality, and the Danger
+of the Attempt. But he, deaf as the Winds, and ruffling as a Storm,
+pursu’d his wild Design with so much Force and Insolence, as I at last,
+unable to resist, was wholly vanquish’d, robb’d of my native Purity.
+With what Life and Breath I had, I call’d for Assistance, both from Men
+and Heaven; but oh, alas! your Succours came too late:--You find me here
+a wretched, undone, and ravish’d Maid. Revenge me, Fathers; revenge me
+on the perfidious Hypocrite, or else give me a Death that may secure
+your Cruelty and Injustice from ever being proclaim’d over the World; or
+my Tongue will be eternally reproaching you, and cursing the wicked
+Author of my Infamy.’
+
+She ended as she began, with a thousand Sighs and Tears; and received
+from the Provincial all Assurances of Revenge.
+
+The innocent betray’d Victim, all the while she was speaking, heard her
+with an Astonishment that may easily be imagined; yet shew’d no
+extravagant Signs of it, as those would do, who feign it, to be thought
+innocent; but being really so, he bore with an humble, modest, and
+blushing Countenance, all her Accusations; which silent Shame they
+mistook for evident Signs of his Guilt.
+
+When the Provincial demanded, with an unwonted Severity in his Eyes and
+Voice, what he could answer for himself? calling him Profaner of his
+Sacred Vows, and Infamy to the Holy Order; the injur’d, but innocently
+accus’d, only reply’d: ‘May Heaven forgive that bad Woman, and bring her
+to Repentance! For his Part, he was not so much in Love with Life, as to
+use many arguments to justify his Innocence; unless it were to free that
+Order from a Scandal, of which he had the Honour to be profess’d. But as
+for himself, Life or Death were Things indifferent to him, who heartily
+despis’d the World.’
+
+He said no more, and suffer’d himself to be led before the Magistrate;
+who committed him to Prison, upon the Accusation of this implacable
+Beauty; who, with so much feign’d Sorrow, prosecuted the Matter, even to
+his Tryal and Condemnation; where he refus’d to make any great Defence
+for himself. But being daily visited by all the Religious, both of his
+own and other Orders, they oblig’d him (some of ’em knowing the
+Austerity of his Life, others his Cause of Griefs that first brought him
+into Orders, and others pretending a nearer Knowledge, even of his Soul
+it self) to stand upon his Justification, and discover what he knew of
+that wicked Woman; whose Life had not been so exemplary for Virtue, not
+to have given the World a thousand Suspicions of her Lewdness and
+Prostitutions.
+
+The daily Importunities of these Fathers made him produce her Letters:
+But as he had all the Gown-men on his Side, she had all the Hats and
+Feathers on her’s; all the Men of Quality taking her Part, and all the
+Church-men his. They heard his daily Protestations and Vows, but not a
+Word of what passed at Confession was yet discover’d: He held that as a
+Secret sacred on his Part; and what was said in Nature of a Confession,
+was not to be revealed, though his Life depended on the Discovery. But
+as to the Letters, they were forc’d from him, and expos’d; however,
+Matters were carry’d with so high a Hand against him, that they serv’d
+for no Proof at all of his Innocence, and he was at last condemn’d to be
+burn’d at the Market-Place.
+
+After his Sentence was pass’d, the whole Body of Priests made their
+Addresses to the Marquis _Castel Roderigo_, the then Governor of
+_Flanders_, for a Reprieve; which, after much ado, was granted him for
+some Weeks, but with an absolute Denial of Pardon: So prevailing were
+the young Cavaliers of his Court, who were all Adorers of this Fair
+Jilt.
+
+About this time, while the poor innocent young _Henrick_ was thus
+languishing in Prison, in a dark and dismal Dungeon, and _Miranda_,
+cured of her Love, was triumphing in her Revenge, expecting and daily
+giving new Conquests; and who, by this time, had re-assum’d all her
+wonted Gaiety; there was a great Noise about the Town, that a Prince of
+mighty Name, and fam’d for all the Excellencies of his Sex, was arriv’d;
+a Prince young, and gloriously attended, call’d Prince _Tarquin_.
+
+We had often heard of this great Man, and that he was making his Travels
+in _France_ and _Germany_: And we had also heard, that some Years
+before, he being about Eighteen Years of Age, in the Time when our King
+_Charles_, of blessed Memory, was in _Brussels_, in the last Year of his
+Banishment, that all on a sudden, this young Man rose up upon ’em like
+the Sun, all glorious and dazling, demanding Place of all the Princes in
+that Court. And when his Pretence was demanded, he own’d himself Prince
+_Tarquin_, of the Race of the last Kings of _Rome_, made good his Title,
+and took his Place accordingly. After that he travell’d for about six
+Years up and down the World, and then arriv’d at _Antwerp_, about the
+Time of my being sent thither by King _Charles_.
+
+Perhaps there could be nothing seen so magnificent as this Prince: He
+was, as I said, extremely handsome, from Head to Foot exactly form’d,
+and he wanted nothing that might adorn that native Beauty to the best
+Advantage. His Parts were suitable to the rest: He had an Accomplishment
+fit for a Prince, an Air haughty, but a Carriage affable, easy in
+Conversation, and very entertaining, liberal and good-natur’d, brave and
+inoffensive. I have seen him pass the Streets with twelve Footmen, and
+four Pages; the Pages all in green Velvet Coats lac’d with Gold, and
+white Velvet Tunicks; the Men in Cloth, richly lac’d with Gold; his
+Coaches, and all other Officers, suitable to a great Man.
+
+He was all the Discourse of the Town; some laughing at his Title, others
+reverencing it: Some cry’d, that he was an Imposter; others, that he had
+made his Title as plain, as if _Tarquin_ had reign’d but a Year ago.
+Some made Friendships with him, others would have nothing to say to him:
+But all wonder’d where his Revenue was, that supported this Grandeur;
+and believ’d, tho’ he could make his Descent from the _Roman_ Kings very
+well out, that he could not lay so good a Claim to the _Roman_ Land.
+Thus every body meddled with what they had nothing to do; and, as in
+other Places, thought themselves on the surer Side, if, in these
+doubtful Cases, they imagin’d the worst.
+
+But the Men might be of what Opinion they pleas’d concerning him; the
+Ladies were all agreed that he was a Prince, and a young handsome
+Prince, and a Prince not to be resisted: He had all their Wishes, all
+their Eyes, and all their Hearts. They now dress’d only for him; and
+what Church he grac’d, was sure, that Day, to have the Beauties, and all
+that thought themselves so.
+
+You may believe, our amorous _Miranda_ was not the least Conquest he
+made. She no sooner heard of him, which was as soon as he arriv’d, but
+she fell in love with his very Name. _Jesu!_--A young King of _Rome!_
+Oh, it was so novel, that she doated on the Title; and had not car’d
+whether the rest had been Man or Monkey almost: She was resolved to be
+the _Lucretia_ that this young _Tarquin_ should ravish.
+
+To this End, she was no sooner up the next Day, but she sent him a
+_Billet Doux_, assuring him how much she admired his Fame; and that
+being a Stranger in the Town, she begged the Honour of introducing him
+to all the _Belle_ Conversations, _&c._ which he took for the Invitation
+of some Coquet, who had Interest in fair Ladies; and civilly return’d
+her an Answer, that he would wait on her. She had him that Day watched
+to Church; and impatient to see what she heard so many People flock to
+see, she went also to the same Church; those sanctified Abodes being too
+often profaned by such Devotees, whose Business is to ogle and ensnare.
+
+But what a Noise and Humming was heard all over the Church, when
+_Tarquin_ enter’d! His Grace, his Mein, his Fashion, his Beauty, his
+Dress, and his Equipage surprized all that were present: And by the good
+Management and Care of _Miranda_, she got to kneel at the Side of the
+Altar, just over against the Prince, so that, if he would, he could not
+avoid looking full upon her. She had turned up her Veil, and all her
+Face and Shape appear’d such, and so inchanting, as I have described;
+and her Beauty heighten’d with Blushes, and her Eyes full of Spirit and
+Fire, with Joy, to find the young _Roman_ Monarch so charming, she
+appear’d like something more than mortal, and compelled his Eyes to a
+fixed gazing on her Face: She never glanc’d that Way, but she met them;
+and then would feign so modest a Shame, and cast her Eyes downwards with
+such inviting Art, that he was wholly ravished and charmed, and she
+over-joy’d to find he was so.
+
+The Ceremony being ended, he sent a Page to follow that Lady Home,
+himself pursuing her to the Door of the Church, where he took some holy
+Water, and threw upon her, and made her a profound Reverence. She forc’d
+an innocent Look, and a modest Gratitude in her Face, and bow’d, and
+passed forward, half assur’d of her Conquest; leaving her, to go home to
+his Lodging, and impatiently wait the Return of his Page. And all the
+Ladies who saw this first Beginning between the Prince and _Miranda_,
+began to curse and envy her Charms, who had deprived them of half their
+Hopes.
+
+After this, I need not tell you, he made _Miranda_ a Visit; and from
+that Day never left her Apartment, but when he went home at Nights, or
+unless he had Business; so entirely was he conquer’d by this Fair One.
+But the Bishop, and several Men of Quality, in Orders, that profess’d
+Friendship to him, advised him from her Company; and spoke several
+Things to him, that might (if Love had not made him blind) have
+reclaimed him from the Pursuit of his Ruin. But whatever they trusted
+him with, she had the Art to wind herself about his Heart, and make him
+unravel all his Secrets; and then knew as well, by feign’d Sighs and
+Tears, to make him disbelieve all; so that he had no Faith but for her;
+and was wholly inchanted and bewitch’d by her. At last, in spite of all
+that would have opposed it, he marry’d this famous Woman, possess’d by
+so many great Men and Strangers before, while all the World was pitying
+his Shame and Misfortunes.
+
+Being marry’d, they took a great House; and as she was indeed a great
+Fortune, and now a great Princess, there was nothing wanting that was
+agreeable to their Quality; all was splendid and magnificent. But all
+this would not acquire them the World’s Esteem; they had an Abhorrence
+for her former Life, and despised her; and for his espousing a Woman so
+infamous, they despised him. So that though they admir’d, and gazed upon
+their Equipage, and glorious Dress, they foresaw the Ruin that attended
+it, and paid her Quality little Respect.
+
+She was no sooner married, but her Uncle died; and dividing his Fortune
+between _Miranda_ and her Sister, leaves the young Heiress, and all her
+Fortune, entirely in the Hands of the Princess.
+
+We will call this Sister _Alcidiana_; she was about fourteen Years of
+Age, and now had chosen her Brother, the Prince, for her Guardian. If
+_Alcidiana_ were not altogether so great a Beauty as her Sister, she had
+Charms sufficient to procure her a great many Lovers, though her Fortune
+had not been so considerable as it was; but with that Addition, you may
+believe, she wanted no Courtships from those of the best Quality; tho’
+every body deplor’d her being under the Tutorage of a Lady so expert in
+all the Vices of her Sex, and so cunning a Manager of Sin, as was the
+Princess; who, on her Part, failed not, by all the Caresses, and
+obliging Endearments, to engage the Mind of this young Maid, and to
+subdue her wholly to her Government. All her Senses were eternally
+regaled with the most bewitching Pleasures they were capable of: She saw
+nothing but Glory and Magnificence, heard nothing but Musick of the
+sweetest Sounds; the richest Perfumes employ’d her Smelling; and all she
+eat and touch’d was delicate and inviting; and being too young to
+consider how this State and Grandeur was to be continu’d, little
+imagined her vast Fortune was every Day diminishing, towards its
+needless Support.
+
+When the Princess went to Church, she had her Gentleman bare before her,
+carrying a great Velvet Cushion, with great Golden Tassels, for her to
+kneel on, and her Train borne up a most prodigious Length, led by a
+Gentleman Usher, bare; follow’d by innumerable Footmen, Pages, and
+Women. And in this State she would walk in the Streets, as in those
+Countries it is the Fashion for the great Ladies to do, who are well;
+and in her Train two or three Coaches, and perhaps a rich Velvet Chair
+embroider’d, would follow in State.
+
+It was thus for some time they liv’d, and the Princess was daily press’d
+by young sighing Lovers, for her Consent to marry _Alcidiana_; but she
+had still one Art or other to put them off, and so continually broke all
+the great Matches that were proposed to her, notwithstanding their
+Kindred and other Friends had industriously endeavour’d to make several
+great Matches for her; but the Princess was still positive in her
+Denial, and one Way or other broke all. At last it happened, there was
+one proposed, yet more advantageous, a young Count, with whom the young
+Maid grew passionately in Love, and besought her Sister to consent that
+she might have him, and got the Prince to speak in her Behalf; but he
+had no sooner heard the secret Reasons _Miranda_ gave him, but (entirely
+her Slave) he chang’d his Mind, and suited it to hers, and she, as
+before, broke off that Amour: Which so extremely incensed _Alcidiana_,
+that she, taking an Opportunity, got from her Guard, and ran away,
+putting her self into the Hands of a wealthy Merchant, her Kinsman, and
+one who bore the greatest Authority in the City; him she chuses for her
+Guardian, resolving to be no longer a Slave to the Tyranny of her
+Sister. And so well she ordered Matters, that she writ this young
+Cavalier, her last Lover, and retrieved him; who came back to _Antwerp_
+again, to renew his Courtship.
+
+Both Parties being agreed, it was no hard Matter to persuade all but the
+Princess. But though she opposed it, it was resolved on, and the Day
+appointed for Marriage, and the Portion demanded; demanded only, but
+never to be paid, the best Part of it being spent. However, she put them
+off from Day to Day, by a thousand frivolous Delays; and when she saw
+they would have Recourse to Force, and all that her Magnificence would
+be at an End, if the Law should prevail against her; and that without
+this Sister’s Fortune, she could not long support her Grandeur; she
+bethought herself of a Means to make it all her own, by getting her
+Sister made away; but she being out of her Tuition, she was not able to
+accomplish so great a Deed of Darkness. But since it was resolved it
+must be done, she contrives a thousand Stratagems; and at last pitches
+upon an effectual one.
+
+She had a Page call’d _Van Brune_, a Youth of great Address and Wit, and
+one she had long managed for her Purpose. This Youth was about seventeen
+Years of Age, and extremely beautiful; and in the Time when _Alcidiana_
+lived with the Princess, she was a little in Love with this handsome
+Boy; but it was checked in its Infancy, and never grew up to a Flame:
+Nevertheless, _Alcidiana_ retained still a sort of Tenderness for him,
+while he burn’d in good Earnest with Love for the Princess.
+
+The Princess one Day ordering this Page to wait on her in her Closet,
+she shut the Door; and after a thousand Questions of what he would
+undertake to serve her, the amorous Boy finding himself alone, and
+caress’d by the fair Person he ador’d, with joyful Blushes that
+beautify’d his Face, told her, ‘There was nothing upon Earth, he would
+not do, to obey her least Commands.’ She grew more familiar with him, to
+oblige him; and seeing Love dance in his Eyes, of which she was so good
+a Judge, she treated him more like a Lover, than a Servant; till at last
+the ravished Youth, wholly transported out of himself, fell at her Feet,
+and impatiently implor’d to receive her Commands quickly, that he might
+fly to execute them; for he was not able to bear her charming Words,
+Looks, and Touches, and retain his Duty. At this she smil’d, and told
+him, the Work was of such a Nature, as would mortify all Flames about
+him; and he would have more Need of Rage, Envy, and Malice, than the
+Aids of a Passion so soft as what she now found him capable of. He
+assur’d her, he would stick at nothing, tho’ even against his Nature, to
+recompense for the Boldness he now, through his Indiscretion, had
+discover’d. She smiling, told him, he had committed no Fault; and that
+possibly, the Pay he should receive for the Service she required at his
+Hands, should be--what he most wish’d for in the World. At this he bow’d
+to the Earth; and kissing her Feet, bad her command: And then she boldly
+told him, _’Twas to kill her Sister_ Alcidiana. The Youth, without so
+much as starting or pausing upon the Matter, told her, _It should be
+done_; and bowing low, immediately went out of the Closet. She call’d
+him back, and would have given him some Instruction; but he refused it,
+and said, ‘The Action and the Contrivance should be all his own.’ And
+offering to go again, she--again recalled him; putting into his Hand a
+Purse of a hundred Pistoles, which he took, and with a low Bow departed.
+
+He no sooner left her Presence, but he goes directly, and buys a Dose of
+Poison, and went immediately to the House where _Alcidiana_ lived; where
+desiring to be brought to her Presence, he fell a weeping; and told her,
+his Lady had fallen out with him, and dismissed him her Service, and
+since from a Child he had been brought up in the Family, he humbly
+besought _Alcidiana_ to receive him into hers, she being in a few Days
+to be marry’d. There needed not much Intreaty to a Thing that pleased
+her so well, and she immediately received him to Pension: And he waited
+some Days on her, before he could get an Opportunity to administer his
+devilish Potion. But one Night, when she drank Wine with roasted Apples,
+which was usual with her; instead of Sugar, or with the Sugar, the
+baneful Drug was mixed, and she drank it down.
+
+About this Time, there was a great Talk of this Page’s coming from one
+Sister, to go to the other. And Prince _Tarquin_, who was ignorant of
+the Design from the Beginning to the End, hearing some Men of Quality at
+his Table speaking of _Van Brune’s_ Change of Place (the Princess then
+keeping her Chamber upon some trifling Indisposition) he answer’d, ‘That
+surely they were mistaken, that he was not dismissed from the Princess’s
+Service:’ And calling some of his Servants, he asked for _Van Brune_;
+and whether any Thing had happen’d between her Highness and him, that
+had occasion’d his being turned off. They all seem’d ignorant of this
+Matter; and those who had spoken of it, began to fancy there was some
+Juggle in the Case, which Time would bring to Light.
+
+The ensuing Day ’twas all about the Town, that _Alcidiana_ was poison’d;
+and though not dead, yet very near it; and that the Doctors said, she
+had taken Mercury. So that there was never so formidable a Sight as this
+fair young Creature; her Head and Body swoln, her Eyes starting out, her
+Face black, and all deformed: So that diligent Search was made, who it
+should be that did this; who gave her Drink and Meat. The Cook and
+Butler were examined, the Footman called to an Account; but all
+concluded, she received nothing but from the Hand of her new Page, since
+he came into her Service. He was examined, and shew’d a thousand guilty
+Looks: And the Apothecary, then attending among the Doctors, proved he
+had bought Mercury of him three or four Days before; which he could not
+deny; and making many Excuses for his buying it, betray’d him the more;
+so ill he chanced to dissemble. He was immediately sent to be examined
+by the Margrave or Justice, who made his _Mittimus_, and sent him to
+Prison.
+
+’Tis easy to imagine, in what Fears and Confusion the Princess was at
+this News: She took her Chamber upon it, more to hide her guilty Face,
+than for any Indisposition. And the Doctors apply’d such Remedies to
+_Alcidiana_, such Antidotes against the Poison, that in a short Time she
+recover’d; but lost the finest Hair in the World, and the Complexion of
+her Face ever after.
+
+It was not long before the Trials for Criminals came on; and the Day
+being arrived, _Van Brune_ was try’d the first of all; every Body having
+already read his Destiny, according as they wished it; and none would
+believe, but just indeed as it was: So that for the Revenge they hoped
+to see fall upon the Princess, every one wished he might find no Mercy,
+that she might share of his Shame and Misery.
+
+The Sessions-House was filled that Day with all the Ladies, and chief of
+the Town, to hear the Result of his Trial; and the sad Youth was
+brought, loaded with Chains, and pale as Death; where every Circumstance
+being sufficiently proved against him, and he making but a weak Defence
+for himself, he was convicted, and sent back to Prison, to receive his
+Sentence of Death on the Morrow; where he owned all, and who set him on
+to do it. He own’d ’twas not Reward of Gain he did it for, but Hope he
+should command at his Pleasure the Possession of his Mistress, the
+Princess, who should deny him nothing, after having entrusted him with
+so great a Secret; and that besides, she had elevated him with the
+Promise of that glorious Reward, and had dazzled his young Heart with so
+charming a Prospect, that blind and mad with Joy, he rushed forward to
+gain the desired Prize, and thought on nothing but his coming Happiness:
+That he saw too late the Follies of his presumptuous Flame, and cursed
+the deluding Flatteries of the fair Hypocrite, who had soothed him to
+his Undoing: That he was a miserable Victim to her Wickedness; and hoped
+he should warn all young Men, by his Fall, to avoid the Dissimulation of
+the deceiving Fair: That he hoped they would have Pity on his Youth, and
+attribute his Crime to the subtle Persuasions alone of his Mistress the
+Princess: And that since _Alcidiana_ was not dead, they would grant him
+Mercy, and permit him to live to repent of his grievous Crime, in some
+Part of the World, whither they might banish him.
+
+He ended with Tears, that fell in abundance from his Eyes; and
+immediately the Princess was apprehended, and brought to Prison, to the
+same Prison where yet the poor young Father _Francisco_ was languishing,
+he having been from Week to Week reprieved, by the Intercession of the
+Fathers; and possibly she there had Time to make some Reflections.
+
+You may imagine _Tarquin_ left no Means unessay’d, to prevent the
+Imprisonment of the Princess, and the publick Shame and Infamy she was
+likely to undergo in this Affair: But the whole City being over-joy’d
+that she should be punished, as an Author of all this Mischief, were
+generally bent against her, both Priests, Magistrates and People; the
+whole Force of the Stream running that Way, she found no more Favour
+than the meanest Criminal. The Prince therefore, when he saw ’twas
+impossible to rescue her from the Hands of Justice, suffer’d with Grief
+unspeakable, what he could not prevent, and led her himself to the
+Prison, follow’d by all his People, in as much State as if he had been
+going to his Marriage; where, when she came, she was as well attended
+and served as before, he never stirring one Moment from her.
+
+The next Day, she was tried in open and common Court; where she appeared
+in Glory, led by _Tarquin_, and attended according to her Quality: And
+she could not deny all the Page had alledged against her, who was
+brought thither also in Chains; and after a great many Circumstances,
+she was found Guilty, and both received Sentence; the Page to be hanged
+till he was dead, on a Gibbet in the Market-Place; and the Princess to
+stand under the Gibbet, with a Rope about her Neck, the other End of
+which was to be fastned to the Gibbet where the Page was hanging; and to
+have an Inscription, in large Characters, upon her Back and Breast, of
+the Cause why; where she was to stand from ten in the Morning to twelve.
+
+This Sentence, the People with one Accord, believed too favourable for
+so ill a Woman, whose Crimes deserved Death, equal to that of _Van
+Brune_. Nevertheless, there were some who said, it was infinitely more
+severe than Death it self.
+
+The following _Friday_ was the Day of Execution, and one need not tell
+of the Abundance of People, who were flocked together in the
+Market-Place: And all the Windows were taken down, and filled with
+Spectators, and the Tops of Houses; when at the Hour appointed, the
+fatal Beauty appear’d. She was dress’d in a black Velvet Gown, with a
+rich Row of Diamonds all down the fore Part of her Breast, and a great
+Knot of Diamonds at the Peak behind; and a Petticoat of flower’d Gold,
+very rich, and laced; with all Things else suitable. A Gentleman carry’d
+her great Velvet Cushion before her, on which her Prayer-Book,
+embroider’d, was laid; her Train was borne up by a Page, and the Prince
+led her, bare; followed by his Footmen, Pages, and other Officers of his
+House.
+
+When they arrived at the Place of Execution, the Cushion was laid on the
+Ground, upon a _Portugal_ Mat, spread there for that Purpose; and the
+Princess stood on the Cushion, with her Prayer-Book in her Hand, and a
+Priest by her Side; and was accordingly tied up to the Gibbet.
+
+She had not stood there ten Minutes, but she had the Mortification
+(at least one would think it so to her) to see her sad Page, _Van
+Brune_, approach, fair as an Angel, but languishing and pale. That Sight
+moved all the Beholders with as much Pity, as that of the Princess did
+with Disdain and Pleasure.
+
+He was dressed all in Mourning, and very fine Linen, bare-headed, with
+his own Hair, the fairest that could be seen, hanging all in Curls on
+his Back and Shoulders, very long. He had a Prayer-Book of black Velvet
+in his Hand, and behaved himself with much Penitence and Devotion.
+
+When he came under the Gibbet, he seeing his Mistress in that Condition,
+shew’d an infinite Concern, and his fair Face was cover’d over with
+Blushes; and falling at her Feet, he humbly ask’d her Pardon for having
+been the Occasion of so great an Infamy to her, by a weak Confession,
+which the Fears of Youth, and Hopes of Life, had obliged him to make, so
+greatly to her Dishonour; for indeed he wanted that manly Strength, to
+bear the Efforts of dying, as he ought, in Silence, rather than of
+commiting so great a Crime against his Duty, and Honour itself; and that
+he could not die in Peace, unless she would forgive him. The Princess
+only nodded her Head, and cried, _I do_--
+
+And after having spoken a little to his Father-Confessor, who was with
+him, he chearfully mounted the Ladder, and in Sight of the Princess he
+was turned off, while a loud Cry was heard thro’ all the Market-Place,
+especially from the Fair Sex; he hanged there till the Time the Princess
+was to depart; and then she was put into a rich embroider’d Chair, and
+carry’d away, _Tarquin_ going into his, for he had all that Time stood
+supporting the Princess under the Gallows, and was very weary. She was
+sent back, till her Releasement came, which was that Night about seven
+o’Clock; and then she was conducted to her own House in great State,
+with a Dozen White Wax Flambeaux about her Chair.
+
+If the Guardian of _Alcidiana_, and her Friends, before were impatient
+of having the Portion out of the Hands of these Extravagants, it is not
+to be imagined, but they were now much more so; and the next Day they
+sent an Officer, according to Law, to demand it, or to summon the Prince
+to give Reasons why he would not pay it. The Officer received for
+Answer, That the Money should be call’d in, and paid in such a Time,
+setting a certain Time, which I have not been so curious as to retain,
+or put in my Journal-Observations; but I am sure it was not long, as may
+be easily imagin’d, for they every Moment suspected the Prince would
+pack up, and be gone, some time or other, on the sudden; and for that
+Reason they would not trust him without Bail, or two Officers to remain
+in his House, to watch that nothing should be remov’d or touch’d. As for
+Bail, or Security, he could give none; every one slunk their Heads out
+of the Collar, when it came to that: So that he was oblig’d, at his own
+Expence, to maintain Officers in his House.
+
+The Princess finding her self reduced to the last Extremity, and that
+she must either produce the Value of a hundred thousand Crowns, or see
+the Prince her Husband lodged for ever in a Prison, and all their Glory
+vanish; and that it was impossible to fly, since guarded; she had
+Recourse to an Extremity, worse than the Affair of _Van Brune_. And in
+order to this, she first puts on a world of Sorrow and Concern, for what
+she feared might arrive to the Prince: And indeed, if ever she shed
+Tears which she did not dissemble, it was upon this Occasion. But here
+she almost over-acted: She stirred not from her Bed, and refused to eat,
+or sleep, or see the Light; so that the Day being shut out of her
+Chamber, she lived by Wax-lights, and refus’d all Comfort and
+Consolation.
+
+The Prince, all raving with Love, tender Compassion and Grief, never
+stirred from her Bed-side, nor ceas’d to implore, that she would suffer
+herself to live. But she, who was not now so passionately in Love with
+_Tarquin_, as she was with the Prince; nor so fond of the Man as his
+Titles, and of Glory; foresaw the total Ruin of the last, if not
+prevented by avoiding the Payment of this great Sum; which could not
+otherwise be, than by the Death of _Alcidiana_: And therefore, without
+ceasing, she wept, and cry’d out, ‘She could not live, unless
+_Alcidiana_ died. This _Alcidiana_ (_continued she_) who has been the
+Author of my Shame; who has expos’d me under a Gibbet, in the Publick
+Market-Place--Oh!--I am deaf to all Reason, blind to natural Affection.
+I renounce her, I hate her as my mortal Foe, my Stop to Glory, and the
+Finisher of my Days, e’er half my Race of Life be run.’
+
+Then throwing her false, but snowy, charming Arms about the Neck her
+Heart-breaking Lord, and Lover, who lay sighing, and listening by her
+Side, he was charmed and bewitch’d into saying all Things that appeased
+her; and lastly, told her, ‘_Alcidiana_ should be no longer any Obstacle
+to her Repose; but that, if she would look up, and cast her Eyes of
+Sweetness and Love upon him, as heretofore; forget her Sorrow, and
+redeem her lost Health; he would take what Measures she should propose
+to dispatch this fatal Stop to her Happiness, out of the Way.’
+
+These Words failed not to make her caress him in the most endearing
+Manner that Love and Flattery could invent; and she kiss’d him to an
+Oath, a solemn Oath, to perform what he had promised; and he vow’d
+liberally. And she assumed in an Instant her Good-Humour, and suffer’d a
+Supper to be prepared, and did eat; which in many Days before she had
+not done: So obstinate and powerful was she in dissembling well.
+
+The next Thing to be consider’d was, which Way this Deed was to be done;
+for they doubted not, but when it was done, all the World would lay it
+upon the Princess, as done by her Command: But she urged, Suspicion was
+no Proof; and that they never put to Death any one, but when they had
+great and certain Evidence who were the Offenders. She was sure of her
+own Constancy, that Racks and Tortures should never get the Secret from
+her Breast; and if he were as confident on his Part, there was no
+Danger. Yet this Preparation she made towards laying the Fact on others,
+that she caused several Letters to be wrote from _Germany_, as from the
+Relations of _Van Brune_, who threaten’d _Alcidiana_ with Death, for
+depriving their Kinsman (who was a Gentleman) of his Life, though he had
+not taken away hers. And it was the Report of the Town, how this young
+Maid was threaten’d. And indeed, the Death of the Page had so afflicted
+a great many, that _Alcidiana_ had procured her self abundance of
+Enemies upon that Account, because she might have saved him if she had
+pleased; but, on the contrary, she was a Spectator, and in full Health
+and Vigour, at his Execution: And People were not so much concerned for
+her at this Report, as they would have been.
+
+The Prince, who now had, by reasoning the Matter soberly with _Miranda_,
+found it absolutely necessary to dispatch _Alcidiana_, resolved himself,
+and with his own Hand, to execute it; not daring to trust to any of his
+most favourite Servants, though he had many, who possibly would have
+obey’d him; for they loved him as he deserved, and so would all the
+World, had he not been so purely deluded by this fair Enchantress. He
+therefore, as I said, resolved to keep this great Secret to himself; and
+taking a Pistol, charged well with two Bullets, he watch’d an
+Opportunity to shoot her as she should go out or into her House, or
+Coach, some Evening.
+
+To this End he waited several Nights near her Lodgings, but still,
+either she went not out, or when she return’d, she was so guarded with
+Friends, her Lover, and Flambeaux, that he could not aim at her without
+endangering the Life of some other. But one Night above the rest, upon a
+_Sunday_, when he knew she would be at the Theatre, for she never missed
+that Day seeing the Play, he waited at the Corner of the Stadt-House,
+near the Theatre, with his Cloak cast over his Face, and a black
+Periwig, all alone, with his Pistol ready cock’d; and remain’d not very
+long but he saw her Kinsman’s Coach come along; ’twas almost dark, Day
+was just shutting up her Beauties, and left such a Light to govern the
+World, as serv’d only just to distinguish one Object from another, and a
+convenient Help to Mischief. He saw alight out of the Coach only one
+young Lady, the Lover, and then the destin’d Victim; which he (drawing
+near) knew rather by her Tongue than Shape. The Lady ran into the
+Play-House, and left _Alcidiana_ to be conducted by her Lover into it:
+Who led her to the Door, and went to give some Order to the Coachman; so
+that the Lover was about twenty Yards from _Alcidiana_; when she stood
+the fairest Mark in the World, on the Threshold of the Entrance of the
+Theatre, there being many Coaches about the Door, so that hers could not
+come so near. _Tarquin_ was resolved not to lose so fair an Opportunity,
+and advanc’d, but went behind the Coaches; and when he came over-against
+the Door, through a great booted Velvet Coach, that stood between him
+and her, he shot; and she having the Train of her Gown and Petticoat on
+her Arm, in great Quantity, he missed her Body, and shot through her
+Clothes, between her Arm and her Body. She, frighten’d to find something
+hit her, and to see the Smoke, and hear the Report of the Pistol;
+running in, cried, _I am shot, I am dead._
+
+This Noise quickly alarm’d her Lover; and all the Coachmen and Footmen
+immediately ran, some one Way, and some another. One of ’em seeing a Man
+haste away in a Cloak; he being a lusty, bold _German_, stopped him; and
+drawing upon him, bad him stand, and deliver his Pistol, or he would run
+him through.
+
+_Tarquin_ being surprised at the Boldness of this Fellow to demand his
+Pistol, as if he positively knew him to be the Murderer (for so he
+thought himself, since he believed _Alcidiana_ dead) had so much
+Presence of Mind as to consider, if he suffered himself to be taken, he
+should poorly die a publick Death; and therefore resolv’d upon one
+Mischief more, to secure himself from the first: And in the Moment that
+the _German_ bad him deliver his Pistol, he cried, _Though I have no
+Pistol to deliver, I have a Sword to chastise thy Insolence_. And
+throwing off his Cloak, and flinging his Pistol from him, he drew, and
+wounded, and disarmed the Fellow.
+
+This Noise of Swords brought every body to the Place; and immediately
+the Bruit ran, _The Murderer was taken, the Murderer was taken_; Tho’
+none knew which was he, nor as yet so much as the Cause of the Quarrel
+between the two fighting Men; for it was now darker than before. But at
+the Noise of the Murderer being taken, the Lover of _Alcidiana_, who by
+this Time found his Lady unhurt, all but the Trains of her Gown and
+Petticoat, came running to the Place, just as _Tarquin_ had disarm’d the
+_German_, and was ready to kill him; when laying hold of his Arm, they
+arrested the Stroke, and redeemed the Footman.
+
+They then demanded who this Stranger was, at whose Mercy the Fellow lay;
+but the Prince, who now found himself venturing for his last Stake, made
+no Reply; but with two Swords in his Hands went to fight his Way through
+the Rabble; And tho’ there were above a hundred Persons, some with
+Swords, others with long Whips, (as Coachmen) so invincible was the
+Courage of this poor unfortunate Gentleman at that Time, that all these
+were not able to seize him; but he made his Way through the Ring that
+encompassed him, and ran away; but was, however, so closely pursued, the
+Company still gathering as they ran, that toiled with fighting,
+oppressed with Guilt, and Fear of being taken, he grew fainter and
+fainter, and suffered himself, at last, to yield to his Pursuers, who
+soon found him to be Prince _Tarquin_ in Disguise: And they carry’d him
+directly to Prison, being _Sunday_, to wait the coming Day, to go before
+a Magistrate.
+
+In an Hour’s Time the whole fatal Adventure was carried all over the
+City, and every one knew that _Tarquin_ was the intended Murderer of
+_Alcidiana_; and not one but had a real Sorrow and Compassion for him.
+They heard how bravely he had defended himself, how many he had wounded
+before he could be taken, and what numbers he had fought through: And
+even those that saw his Valour and Bravery, and who had assisted at his
+being seiz’d, now repented from the Bottom of their Hearts their having
+any Hand in the Ruin of so gallant a Man; especially since they knew the
+Lady was not hurt. A thousand Addresses were made to her, not to
+prosecute him; but her Lover, a hot-headed Fellow, more fierce than
+brave, would by no Means be pacified, but vowed to pursue him to the
+Scaffold.
+
+The _Monday_ came, and the Prince being examined, confessed the Matter
+of Fact, since there was no Harm done; believing a generous Confession
+the best of his Game: But he was sent back to closer Imprisonment,
+loaded with Irons, to expect the next Sessions. All his Household-Goods
+were seiz’d, and all they could find, for the Use of _Alcidiana_. And
+the Princess, all in Rage, tearing her Hair, was carried to the same
+Prison, to behold the cruel Effects of her hellish Designs.
+
+One need not tell here how sad and horrid this Meeting appear’d between
+her Lord and her: Let it suffice, it was the most melancholy and
+mortifying Object that ever Eyes beheld. On _Miranda’s_ Part, ’twas
+sometimes all Rage and Fire, and sometimes all Tears and Groans; but
+still ’twas sad Love, and mournful Tenderness on his. Nor could all his
+Sufferings, and the Prospect of Death itself, drive from his Soul one
+Spark of that Fire the obstinate God had fatally kindled there: And in
+the midst of all his Sighs, he would re-call himself, and cry,--_I have
++Miranda+ still._
+
+He was eternally visited by his Friends and Acquaintance; and this last
+Action of Bravery had got him more than all his former Conduct had lost.
+The Fathers were perpetually with him; and all join’d with one common
+Voice in this, That he ought to abandon a Woman so wicked as the
+Princess; and that however Fate dealt with him, he could not shew
+himself a true Penitent, while he laid the Author of so much Evil in his
+Bosom: That Heaven would never bless him, till he had renounced her: And
+on such Conditions he would find those that would employ their utmost
+Interest to save his Life, who else would not stir in this Affair. But
+he was so deaf to all, that he could not so much as dissemble a
+Repentance for having married her.
+
+He lay a long Time in Prison, and all that Time the poor Father
+_Francisco_ remained there also: And the good Fathers who daily visited
+these two amorous Prisoners, the Prince and Princess; and who found, by
+the Management of Matters, it would go very hard with _Tarquin_,
+entertained ’em often with holy Matters relating to the Life to come;
+from which, before his Trial, he gathered what his Stars had appointed,
+and that he was destin’d to die.
+
+This gave an unspeakable Torment to the now repenting Beauty, who had
+reduced him to it; and she began to appear with a more solid Grief:
+Which being perceived by the good Fathers, they resolved to attack her
+on the yielding Side; and after some Discourse upon the Judgment for
+Sin, they came to reflect on the Business of Father _Francisco_; and
+told her, she had never thriven since her accusing of that Father, and
+laid it very home to her Conscience; assuring her that they would do
+their utmost in her Service, if she would confess that secret Sin to all
+the World, so that she might atone for the Crime, by the saving that
+good Man. At first she seemed inclined to yield; but Shame of being her
+own Detector, in so vile a Matter, recalled her Goodness, and she
+faintly persisted in it.
+
+At the End of six Months, Prince _Tarquin_ was called to his Tryal;
+where I will pass over the Circumstances, which are only what is usual
+in such criminal Cases, and tell you, that he being found guilty of the
+Intent of killing _Alcidiana_, was condemned to lose his Head in the
+Market-Place, and the Princess to be banished her Country.
+
+After Sentence pronounced, to the real Grief of all the Spectators, he
+was carry’d back to Prison, and now the Fathers attack her anew; and
+she, whose Griefs daily encreased, with a Languishment that brought her
+very near her Grave, at last confess’d all her Life, all the Lewdness of
+her Practices with several Princes and great Men, besides her Lusts with
+People that served her, and others in mean Capacity: And lastly, the
+whole Truth of the young Friar; and how she had drawn the Page, and the
+Prince her Husband, to this design’d Murder of her Sister. This she
+signed with her Hand, in the Presence of the Prince, her Husband, and
+several Holy Men who were present. Which being signify’d to the
+Magistrates, the Friar was immediately deliver’d from his Irons (where
+he had languished more than two whole Years) in great Triumph, with much
+Honour, and lives a most exemplary pious Life, as he did before; for he
+is now living in _Antwerp_.
+
+After the Condemnation of these two unfortunate Persons, who begot such
+different Sentiments in the Minds of the People (the Prince, all the
+Compassion and Pity imaginable; and the Princess, all the Contempt and
+Despite;) they languished almost six Months longer in Prison; so great
+an Interest there was made, in order to the saving his Life, by all the
+Men of the Robe. On the other side, the Princes, and great Men of all
+Nations, who were at the Court of _Brussels_, who bore a secret Revenge
+in their Hearts against a Man who had, as they pretended, set up a false
+Title, only to take Place of them; who indeed was but a Merchant’s Son
+of _Holland_, as they said; so incens’d them against him, that they were
+too hard at Court for the Church-men. However, this Dispute gave the
+Prince his Life some Months longer than was expected; which gave him
+also some Hope, that a Reprieve for ninety Years would have been
+granted, as was desired. Nay, Father _Francisco_ so interested himself
+in this Concern, that he writ to his Father, and several Princes of
+_Germany_, with whom the Marquis _Castel Roderigo_ was well acquainted,
+to intercede with him for the saving of _Tarquin_; since ’twas more by
+his Persuasions, than those of all who attacked her, that made _Miranda_
+confess the Truth of her Affair with him. But at the End of six Months,
+when all Applications were found fruitless and vain, the Prince receiv’d
+News, that in two Days he was to die, as his Sentence had been before
+pronounced, and for which he prepared himself with all Chearfulness.
+
+On the following _Friday_, as soon as it was light, all People of any
+Condition came to take their Leaves of him; and none departed with dry
+Eyes, or Hearts unconcern’d to the last Degree: For _Tarquin_, when he
+found his Fate inevitable bore it with a Fortitude that shewed no Signs
+of Regret; but address’d himself to all about him with the same
+chearful, modest, and great Air, he was wont to do in his most
+flourishing Fortune. His Valet was dressing him all the Morning, so many
+Interruptions they had by Visitors; and he was all in Mourning, and so
+were all his Followers; for even to the last he kept up his Grandeur, to
+the Amazement of all People. And indeed, he was so passionately belov’d
+by them, that those he had dismiss’d, serv’d him voluntarily, and would
+not be persuaded to abandon him while he liv’d.
+
+The Princess was also dress’d in Mourning, and her two Women; and
+notwithstanding the unheard-of Lewdness and Villanies she had confess’d
+of her self, the Prince still ador’d her; for she had still those Charms
+that made him first do so; nor, to his last Moment, could he be brought
+to wish, that he had never seen her; but on the contrary, as a Man yet
+vainly proud of his Fetters, he said, ‘All the Satisfaction this short
+Moment of Life could afford him, was, that he died in endeavouring to
+serve _Miranda_, his adorable Princess.’
+
+After he had taken Leave of all, who thought it necessary to leave him
+to himself for some Time, he retir’d with his Confessor; where they were
+about an Hour in Prayer, all the Ceremonies of Devotion that were fit to
+be done, being already past. At last the Bell toll’d, and he was to take
+Leave of the Princess, as his last Work of Life, and the most hard he
+had to accomplish. He threw himself at her Feet, and gazing on her as
+she sat more dead than alive, overwhelm’d with silent Grief, they both
+remain’d some Moments speechless; and then, as if one rising Tide of
+Tears had supply’d both their Eyes, it burst out in Streams at the same
+Instant: and when his Sighs gave Way, he utter’d a thousand Farewels, so
+soft, so passionate, and moving, that all who were by were extremely
+touch’d with it, and said, _That nothing could be seen more deplorable
+and melancholy_. A thousand Times they bad Farewel, and still some
+tender Look, or Word, would prevent his going; then embrace, and bid
+Farewel again. A thousand Times she ask’d his Pardon for being the
+Occasion of that fatal Separation; a thousand Times assuring him, she
+would follow him, for she could not live without him. And Heaven knows
+when their soft and sad Caresses would have ended, had not the Officers
+assur’d him ’twas Time to mount the Scaffold. At which Words the
+Princess fell fainting in the Arms of her Woman, and they led _Tarquin_
+out of Prison.
+
+When he came to the Market-Place, whither he walked on Foot, follow’d by
+his own Domesticks, and some bearing a black Velvet Coffin with Silver
+Hinges; the Head’s-man before him with his fatal Scimiter drawn, his
+Confessor by his Side, and many Gentlemen and Church-men, with Father
+_Francisco_ attending him, the People showring Millions of Blessings on
+him, and beholding him with weeping Eyes, he mounted the Scaffold; which
+was strewed with some Saw-dust, about the Place where he was to kneel,
+to receive the Blood: For they behead People kneeling, and with the
+Back-Stroak of a Scimiter; and not lying on a Block, and with an Axe, as
+we in _England_. The Scaffold had a low Rail about it, that every body
+might more conveniently see. This was hung with black, and all that
+State that such a Death could have, was here in most decent Order.
+
+He did not say much upon the Scaffold: The Sum of what he said to his
+Friends was, to be kind, and take Care of the poor Penitent his Wife: To
+others, recommending his honest and generous Servants, whose Fidelity
+was so well known and commended, that they were soon promised
+Preferment. He was some time in Prayer, and a very short time in
+speaking to his Confessor; then he turned to the Head’s-man, and desired
+him to do his Office well, and gave him twenty _Louis d’Ors_; and
+undressing himself with the Help of his Valet and Page, he pull’d off
+his Coat, and had underneath a white Sattin Waistcoat: He took off his
+Periwig, and put on a white Sattin Cap, with a Holland one done with
+Point under it, which he pulled over his Eyes; then took a chearful
+Leave of all, and kneel’d down, and said, ‘When he lifted up his Hands
+the third Time, the Head’s-man should do his Office.’ Which accordingly
+was done, and the Head’s-man gave him his last Stroke, and the Prince
+fell on the Scaffold. The People with one common Voice, as if it had
+been but one entire one, pray’d for his Soul; and Murmurs of Sighs were
+heard from the whole Multitude, who scrambled for some of the bloody
+Saw-dust, to keep for his Memory.
+
+The Head’s-man going to take up the Head, as the Manner is, to shew it
+to the People, he found he had not struck it off, and that the Body
+stirr’d; with that he stepped to an Engine, which they always carry with
+’em, to force those who may be refractory; thinking, as he said, to have
+twisted the Head from the Shoulders, conceiving it to hang but by a
+small Matter of Flesh. Tho’ ’twas an odd Shift of the Fellow’s, yet
+’twas done, and the best Shift he could suddenly propose. The Margrave,
+and another Officer, old Men, were on the Scaffold, with some of the
+Prince’s Friends, and Servants; who seeing the Head’s-man put the Engine
+about the Neck of the Prince, began to call out, and the People made a
+great Noise. The Prince, who found himself yet alive; or rather, who was
+past thinking but had some Sense of Feeling left, when the Head’s-man
+took him up, and set his Back against the Rail, and clapp’d the Engine
+about his Neck, got his two Thumbs between the Rope and his Neck,
+feeling himself press’d there; and struggling between Life and Death,
+and bending himself over the Rail backward, while the Head’s-man pulled
+forward, he threw himself quite over the Rail, by Chance, and not
+Design, and fell upon the Heads and Shoulders of the People, who were
+crying out with amazing Shouts of Joy. The Head’s-man leap’d after him,
+but the Rabble had lik’d to have pull’d him to Pieces: All the City was
+in an Uproar, but none knew what the Matter was, but those who bore the
+Body of the Prince, whom they found yet living; but how, or by what
+strange Miracle preserv’d, they knew not, nor did examine; but with one
+Accord, as if the whole Crowd had been one Body, and had had but one
+Motion, they bore the Prince on their Heads about a hundred Yards from
+the Scaffold, where there is a Monastery of Jesuits; and there they
+secur’d him. All this was done, his beheading, his falling, and his
+being secur’d, almost in a Moment’s Time; the People rejoiceing, as at
+some extraordinary Victory won. One of the Officers being, as I said, an
+old timorous Man, was so frighten’d at the Accident, the Bustle, the
+Noise, and the Confusion, of which he was wholly ignorant, that he dy’d
+with Amazement and Fear; and the other was fain to be let blood.
+
+The Officers of Justice went to demand the Prisoner, but they demanded
+in vain; the Jesuits had now a Right to protect him, and would do so.
+All his overjoy’d Friends went to see in what Condition he was, and all
+of Quality found Admittance: They saw him in Bed, going to be dress’d by
+the most skilful Surgeons, who yet could not assure him of Life. They
+desired no body should speak to him, or ask him any Questions. They
+found that the Head’s-man had struck him too low, and had cut him into
+the Shoulder-bone. A very great Wound, you may be sure; for the Sword,
+in such Executions, carries an extreme Force: However, so great Care was
+taken on all Sides, and so greatly the Fathers were concern’d for him,
+that they found an Amendment, and Hopes of a good Effect of their
+incomparable Charity and Goodness.
+
+At last, when he was permitted to speak, the first News he ask’d was
+after the Princess. And his Friends were very much afflicted to find,
+that all his Loss of Blood had not quenched that Flame, not let out that
+which made him still love that bad Woman. He was sollicited daily to
+think no more of her: And all her Crimes are laid so open to him, and so
+shamefully represented; and on the other Side, his Virtues so admir’d;
+and which, they said, would have been eternally celebrated, but for his
+Folly with this infamous Creature; that at last, by assuring him of all
+their Assistance if he abandon’d her; and to renounce him, and deliver
+him up, if he did not; they wrought so far upon him, as to promise, he
+would suffer her to go alone into Banishment, and would not follow her,
+or live with her any more. But alas! this was but his Gratitude that
+compell’d this Complaisance, for in his Heart he resolv’d never to
+abandon her; nor was he able to live, and think of doing it: However,
+his Reason assur’d him, he could not do a Deed more justifiable, and one
+that would regain his Fame sooner.
+
+His Friends ask’d him some Questions concerning his Escape; and since he
+was not beheaded, but only wounded, why he did not immediately rise up?
+But he replied, he was so absolutely prepossessed, that at the third
+lifting up his Hands he should receive the Stroke of Death, that at the
+same Instant the Sword touch’d him, he had no Sense; nay, not even of
+Pain, so absolutely dead he was with Imagination; and knew not that he
+stirr’d, as the Head’s-man found he did; nor did he remember any Thing,
+from the lifting up of his Hands, to his fall; and then awaken’d, as out
+of a Dream, or rather a Moment’s Sleep without Dream, he found he liv’d,
+and wonder’d what was arriv’d to him, or how he came to live; having
+not, as yet, any Sense of his Wound, tho’ so terrible an one.
+
+After this, _Alcidiana_, who was extremely afflicted for having been the
+Prosecutor of this great Man; who, bating this last Design against her,
+which she knew was at the Instigation of her Sister, had oblig’d her
+with all the Civility imaginable; now sought all Means possible of
+getting his Pardon, and that of her Sister; tho’ of an hundred thousand
+Crowns, which she should have paid her, she could get but ten thousand;
+which was from the Sale of her rich Beds, and some other Furniture. So
+that the young Count, who before should have marry’d her, now went off
+for want of Fortune; and a young Merchant (perhaps the best of the two)
+was the Man to whom she was destin’d.
+
+At last, by great Intercession, both their Pardons were obtain’d; and
+the Prince, who would be no more seen in a Place that had prov’d every
+way so fatal to him, left _Flanders_, promising never to live with the
+Fair Hypocrite more; but e’er he departed, he wrote her a Letter,
+wherein he order’d her, in a little Time, to follow him into _Holland_;
+and left a Bill of Exchange with one of his trusty Servants, whom he had
+left to wait upon her, for Money for her Accommodation; so that she was
+now reduced to one Woman, one Page, and this Gentleman. The Prince, in
+this Time of his Imprisonment, had several Bills of great Sums from his
+Father, who was exceeding rich, and this all the Children he had in the
+World, and whom he tenderly loved.
+
+As soon as _Miranda_ was come into _Holland_, she was welcom’d with all
+imaginable Respect and Endearment by the old Father; who was impos’d
+upon so, as that he knew not she was the fatal Occasion of all these
+Disasters to his Son; but rather look’d on her as a Woman, who had
+brought him an hundred and fifty thousand Crowns, which his Misfortunes
+had consum’d. But, above all, she was receiv’d by _Tarquin_ with a Joy
+unspeakable; who, after some Time, to redeem his Credit, and gain
+himself a new Fame, put himself into the _French_ Army, where he did
+Wonders; and after three Campaigns, his Father dying, he return’d home,
+and retir’d to a Country-House; where, with his Princess, he liv’d as a
+private Gentleman, in all the Tranquillity of a Man of good Fortune.
+They say _Miranda_ has been very penitent for her Life past, and gives
+Heaven the Glory for having given her these Afflictions that have
+reclaim’d her, and brought her to as perfect a State of Happiness, as
+this troublesome World, can afford.
+
+Since I began this Relation, I heard that Prince _Tarquin_, dy’d about
+three Quarters of a Year ago.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Fair Jilt.
+
+
+p. 70 _To Henry Pain, Esq._ Henry Neville Payne, politician and author,
+was a thorough Tory and an ardent partisan of James II. Downes ascribes
+to him three plays: _The Fatal Jealousy_, produced at Dorset Garden in
+the winter of 1672, a good, if somewhat vehement, tragedy (4to, 1673);
+_Morning Ramble; or, Town Humours_, produced at the same theatre in 1673
+(4to, 1673), which, though lacking in plot and quick incident, is far
+from a bad comedy; and _The Siege of Constantinople_, acted by the
+Duke’s company in 1674 (4to, 1675), a tragedy which very sharply lashes
+Shaftesbury as the Chancellor, especially in Act II, when Lorenzo, upon
+his patron designing a frolic, says:--
+
+  My Lord, you know your old house, Mother Somelie’s,
+  You know she always fits you with fresh girls.
+
+Mother Somelie is, of course, the notorious Mother Mosely.
+
+Henry Payne wrote several loyal pamphlets, and after the Revolution he
+became, according to Burnet, ‘the most active and determined of all King
+James’ agents.’ He is said to have been the chief instigator of the
+Montgomery plot in 1690, and whilst in Scotland was arrested. 10 and 11
+December of that year he was severely tortured under a special order of
+William III, but nothing could be extracted from him. This is the last
+occasion on which torture was applied in Scotland. After being treated
+with harshest cruelty by William III, Payne was finally released from
+prison in December, 1700, or January, 1701, as the Duke of Queensbury,
+recognizing the serious illegalities of the whole business, urgently
+advised his liberation. Payne died in 1710. As Macaulay consistently
+confounds him with a certain Edward Neville, S.J., the statements of
+this historian with reference to Henry Neville Payne must be entirely
+disregarded.
+
+p. 72 _The Fair Jilt._ Editio princeps, ‘London. Printed by _R. Holt_
+for _Will. Canning_, at his Shop in the _Temple-Cloysters_’ (1688),
+‘Licensed 17 April, 1688. _Ric. Pocock_’, has as title: _The Fair Jilt;
+or, The History of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. As half-title it prints:
+_The Fair Hypocrite; or, The Amours of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. All
+subsequent editions, however, give: _The Fair Jilt; or, The Amours of
+Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. The Dedication only occurs in the first
+edition.
+
+p. 73 _Scrutore._ Escritoire, cf. Sir T. Herbert, _Trav._ (1677): ‘There
+they sell . . . Scrutores or Cabinets of Mother of Pearl.’
+
+p. 75 _Canonesses, Begines, Quests, Swart-Sisters and Jesuitesses._
+_Canonesses_ are very ancient in history. The most important
+Congregations are the Sepulchrines or Canonesses of the Holy Sepulchre,
+and the Lateran Canonesses. There was an old community of French
+Hospitaller Canonesses of Saint-Esprit. Thomassin tells us that the
+Béguines were canonesses, and that their name is derived from S. Begghe
+(_ob._ 689), who founded the Canonesses of Andenne. There are also
+Chapters of secular canonesses, nearly all Benedictine in origin. Many
+of these only admitted ladies of the highest rank. The French Revolution
+swept away a great number of these institutions, and some were
+suppressed by Joseph II of Austria. Premonstratensian (white) Canonesses
+were common in Belgium.
+
+_Begines._ Either founded by S. Begghe, or their name is derived from
+Lambert de Bègue, a priest of Liège, in 1177. Some place their
+foundation at the beginning of the eleventh century in the Netherlands
+or Germany. After three years women who are enrolled are entitled to a
+little house. No vows are taken, but they assist in choir thrice daily.
+There are several hundreds at Ghent, and the Béguinage (ten Wijngaarde)
+of Bruges is famous.
+
+_Quests._ Quêteuses. Extern Sisters, Poor Clares and Colettines; Lay
+Sisters, Dominicanesses, who go out and beg for the community. ‘To
+quest’ is to go alms-begging. The Sisters of Charity are of later
+foundation. cf. Translation, D’Emilliane’s _Frauds of Romish Monks_
+(1691): ‘The Farmer [of Purgatory Money] sends some of his Emissaries
+into the Fields to carry on the Quest there for the said Souls’; and
+_Earthquake . . . Peru_, iii, 303 (1748): ‘If the Friars go into the
+Country a questing for their Monastery.’
+
+_Swart-Sisters._ Black Nuns. Dominicanesses, a feature of whose dresses
+is the cappa, a large black cloak and hood, worn from All Saints’ Day
+till the ‘Gloria’ on Easter Eve, and on all great solemnities.
+
+_Jesuitesses._ A common misnomer for the original Congregation founded
+by Mary Ward (_ob._ 1645), and named by her ‘The Institute of Mary’. It
+was not until 1703 that they were fully approved by Clement XI.
+
+p. 78 _Cordeliers._ Observant Franciscans, who follow the strict Rule of
+Poverty and observe all the fasts and austerities of the Order. This
+name was first given them in France, where later they were known as
+Recollects.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+OROONOKO; OR THE ROYAL SLAVE.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+The tale of _Oroonoko, the Royal Slave_ is indisputedly Mrs. Behn’s
+masterpiece in prose. Its originality and power have singled it out for
+a permanence and popularity none of her other works attained. It is
+vivid, realistic, pregnant with pathos, beauty, and truth, and not only
+has it so impressed itself upon the readers of more than two centuries,
+but further, it surely struck a new note in English literature and one
+which was re-echoed far and wide. It has been said that ‘_Oroonoko_ is
+the first emancipation novel’, and there is no little acumen in this
+remark. Certainly we may absolve Mrs. Behn from having directly written
+with a purpose such as animated Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s _Uncle
+Tom’s Cabin_; but none the less her sympathy with the oppressed blacks,
+her deep emotions of pity for outraged humanity, her anger at the
+cruelties of the slave-driver aye ready with knout or knife, are
+manifest in every line. Beyond the intense interest of the pure
+narrative we have passages of a rhythm that is lyric, exquisitely
+descriptive of the picturesque tropical scenery and exotic vegetations,
+fragrant and luxuriant; there are intimate accounts of adventuring and
+primitive life; there are personal touches which lend a colour only
+personal touches can, as Aphara tells her prose-epic of her Superman,
+Cæsar the slave, Oroonoko the prince.
+
+It is not difficult to trace the influence of _Oroonoko_. We can
+see it in many an English author; in Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, in
+Chateaubriand. Her idyllic romance has inspired writers who perhaps but
+dimly remember even her name and her genius.
+
+It was often reprinted separately from the rest. There is a little 12mo
+_Oroonoko_, ‘the ninth edition corrected’, published at Doncaster, 1759,
+‘for C. Plummer’, which is rarely seen save in a torn and well-thumbed
+state.[1]
+
+In 1777 the sentimental and highly proper Mrs. Elizabeth Griffith
+included _Oroonoko_ in her three volume _Collection of Novels selected
+and revised._ _Oroonoko_, ‘written originally by Mrs. Behn and revised
+by Mrs. Griffith’[2], was also issued separately, ‘price sixpence’[3],
+in 1800, frontispieced by a very crude picture of a black-a-moor about
+to attack a tiger.
+
+As early as 1709 we find _Lebens und Liebes-Geschichte des Königlichen
+Sclaven Oroonoko in West-Indien_, a German translation published at
+Hamburg, with a portrait of ‘Die Sinnreiche Engelländerin Mrs. Afra
+Behn.’
+
+In 1745 _Oroonoko_ was ‘traduit de l’Anglois de Madame Behn,’ with the
+motto from Lucan ‘Quo fata trahunt virtus secura sequetur.’ There is a
+rhymed dedication ‘A Madame La M. P. D’l . . .’ (35 lines), signed
+D. L.****, i.e., Pierre-Antoine de la Place, a fecund but mediocre
+writer of the eighteenth century (1707-93), who also translated, _Venice
+Preserv’d_, _The Fatal Marriage_, _Tom Jones_, and other English
+masterpieces. There is another edition of de la Place’s version with
+fine plates engraved by C. Baron after Marillier, Londres, 1769.
+
+In 1696 Southerne’s great tragedy, founded upon Mrs. Behn’s novel, was
+produced at Drury Lane. Oroonoko was created by Verbruggen, Powell acted
+Aboan, and the beautiful Mrs. Rogers Imoinda. The play has some
+magnificent passages, and long kept the stage. Southerne had further
+added an excellent comic underplot, full of humour and the truest _vis
+comica_. It is perhaps worth noting that the intrigues of Lucy and
+Charlotte and the Lackitt _ménage_ were dished up as a short slap-bang
+farce by themselves with, curiously enough, two or three scenes _in
+extenso_ from Fletcher’s _Monsieur Thomas_ (III, iii, and V, ii). This
+hotch potch entitled _The Sexes Mis-match’d; or, A New Way to get a
+Husband_ is printed in _The Strollers’ Pacquet open’d_. (12mo, 1741.) On
+1 December, 1759, there was brought out at Drury Lane a most insipid
+alteration of _Oroonoko_ by Dr. Hawkesworth, who omitted all Southerne’s
+lighter fare and inserted serious nonsense of his own. Garrick was the
+Oroonoko and Mrs. Cibber Imoinda. Although Hawkesworth’s version was not
+tolerated, the underplot was none the less pruned in later productions
+to such an extent that it perforce lost nearly all its pristine wit and
+fun. There is another adaption of Southerne: ‘_Oroonoko_ altered from
+the original play . . . to which the editor has added near six hundred
+lines in place of the comic scenes, together with an addition of two new
+characters, intended for one of the theatres.’ (8vo, 1760.) The two new
+characters are Maria, sister to the Lieutenant-Governor and contracted
+to Blandford, and one Heartwell; both thoroughly tiresome individuals.
+In the same year Frank Gentleman, a provincial actor, produced his idea
+of _Oroonoko_ ‘as it was acted at Edinburgh.’ (12mo, 1760.) There is yet
+a fourth bastard: _The Prince of Angola_, by one J. Ferriar, ‘a tragedy
+altered from the play of _Oroonoko_ and adapted to the circumstances of
+the present times.’[4] (Manchester, 1788.) It must be confessed that all
+this tinkering with an original, which does not require from any point
+of view the slightest alteration or omission, is most uncalled for,
+crude, and unsuccessful.
+
+In 1698 William Walker, a lad nineteen years old, the son of a wealthy
+Barbadoes planter, wrote in three weeks a tragedy entitled _Victorious
+Love_ (4to, 1698), which is confessedly a close imitation of Southerne’s
+theme. It was produced at Drury Lane in June, 1698, with the author
+himself as Dafila, a youth, and young Mrs. Cross as the heroine Zaraida,
+‘an European Shipwrack’d an Infant at Gualata’. Possibly Verbruggen
+acted Barnagasso, the captive king who corresponds to Oroonoko. The
+scene is laid in the Banze, or Palace of Tombut, whose Emperor, Jamoan,
+is Barnagasso’s rival in Zaraida’s love. There is a villain, Zanhaga,
+who after various more or less successful iniquities, poisons the
+Emperor; whereon hero and heroine are happily united. _Victorious Love_
+is far from being entirely a bad play; it is, however, very reminiscent
+of the heroic tragedies of two decades before.
+
+Southerne’s _Oroonoko_ was (with some alterations) translated into
+German. This version is prose and probably either the work of W. H. von
+Dalberg or von Eisenthal. It has little merit, but proved popular and
+was printed in 1789 with a somewhat grotesque frontispiece of Oroonoko
+and Imoinda, both of whom are black ‘as pitch or as the cole’.
+
+    [Footnote 1: There were also many chap-books on similar themes
+    which enjoyed no small popularity, e.g., _The Royal African; or,
+    The Memoirs of the Young Prince of Annamaboe_ (circa 1750), the
+    romantic narrative of a negro prince, who became a slave in
+    Barbadoes, from whence he was redeemed and brought to England.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: Mis-spelt ‘Griffiths’ in the 1800 edition.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: There was ‘a superior edition on a fine wove paper,
+    Hot-pressed, with Proof Impressions of the Plates. Price only
+    Nine-pence.’]
+
+    [Footnote 4: The Agitation for the Abolition of the Slave Trade.]
+
+
+
+
+  Epistle Dedicatory.
+
+  TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD MAITLAND.
+
+  [Transcriber’s Note:
+  The Epistle Dedicatory was printed as an Appendix; see Note.]
+
+
+  My Lord,
+
+Since the World is grown so Nice and Critical upon Dedications, and will
+Needs be Judging the Book by the Wit of the Patron; we ought, with a
+great deal of Circumspection to chuse a Person against whom there can be
+no Exception; and whose Wit and Worth truly Merits all that one is
+capable of saying upon that Occasion.
+
+The most part of Dedications are charg’d with Flattery; and if the World
+knows a Man has some Vices, they will not allow one to speak of his
+Virtues. This, My Lord, is for want of thinking Rightly; if Men wou’d
+consider with Reason, they wou’d have another sort of Opinion, and
+Esteem of Dedications; and wou’d believe almost every Great Man has
+enough to make him Worthy of all that can be said of him there. My Lord,
+a Picture-drawer, when he intends to make a good Picture, essays the
+Face many Ways, and in many Lights, before he begins; that he may chuse
+from the several turns of it, which is most Agreeable and gives it the
+best Grace; and if there be a Scar, an ungrateful Mole, or any little
+Defect, they leave it out; and yet make the Picture extreamly like: But
+he who has the good Fortune to draw a Face that is exactly Charming in
+all its Parts and Features, what Colours or Agreements can be added to
+make it Finer? All that he can give is but its due; and Glories in a
+Piece whose Original alone gives it its Perfection. An ill Hand may
+diminish, but a good Hand cannot augment its Beauty. A Poet is a Painter
+in his way; he draws to the Life, but in another kind; we draw the
+Nobler part, the Soul and Mind; the Pictures of the Pen shall out-last
+those of the Pencil, and even Worlds themselves. ’Tis a short Chronicle
+of those Lives that possibly wou’d be forgotten by other Historians, or
+lye neglected there, however deserving an immortal Fame; for Men of
+eminent Parts are as Exemplary as even Monarchs themselves; and Virtue
+is a noble Lesson to be learn’d, and ’tis by Comparison we can Judge and
+Chuse. ’Tis by such illustrious Presidents as your Lordship the World
+can be Better’d and Refin’d; when a great part of the lazy Nobility
+shall, with Shame, behold the admirable Accomplishments of a Man so
+Great, and so Young.
+
+Your Lordship has Read innumerable Volumes of Men and Books, not Vainly
+for the gust of Novelty, but Knowledge, excellent Knowledge: Like the
+industrious Bee, from every Flower you return Laden with the precious
+Dew, which you are sure to turn to the Publick Good. You hoard no one
+Reflection, but lay it all out in the Glorious Service of your Religion
+and Country; to both which you are a useful and necessary Honour: They
+both want such Supporters; and ’tis only Men of so elevated Parts, and
+fine Knowledge; such noble Principles of Loyalty and Religion this
+Nation Sighs for. Where shall we find a Man so Young, like St.
+Augustine, in the midst of all his Youth and Gaiety, Teaching the World
+Divine Precepts, true Notions of Faith, and Excellent Morality, and, at
+the same time be also a perfect Pattern of all that accomplish a Great
+Man? You have, My Lord, all that refin’d Wit that Charms, and the
+Affability that Obliges; a Generosity that gives a Lustre to your
+Nobility; that Hospitality, and Greatness of Mind that ingages the
+World; and that admirable Conduct, that so well Instructs it. Our Nation
+ought to regret and bemoan their Misfortunes, for not being able to
+claim the Honour of the Birth of a Man who is so fit to serve his
+Majesty, and his Kingdoms in all Great and Publick Affairs; And to the
+Glory of your Nation, be it spoken, it produces more considerable Men,
+for all fine Sence, Wit, Wisdom, Breeding and Generosity (for the
+generality of the Nobility) than all other Nations can Boast; and the
+Fruitfulness of your Virtues sufficiently make amends for the Barrenness
+of your Soil: Which however cannot be incommode to your Lordship; since
+your Quality and the Veneration that the Commonalty naturally pay their
+Lords creates a flowing Plenty there . . . that makes you Happy. And to
+compleat your Happiness, my Lord, Heaven has blest you with a Lady, to
+whom it has given all the Graces, Beauties, and Virtues of her Sex; all
+the Youth, Sweetness of Nature, of a most illustrious Family; and who is
+a most rare Example to all Wives of Quality, for her eminent Piety,
+Easiness, and Condescention; and as absolutely merits Respect from all
+the World as she does that Passion and Resignation she receives from
+your Lordship; and which is, on her part, with so much Tenderness
+return’d. Methinks your tranquil Lives are an Image of the new Made and
+Beautiful Pair in Paradise: And ’tis the Prayers and Wishes of all, who
+have the Honour to know you, that it may Eternally so continue with
+Additions of all the Blessings this World can give you.
+
+My Lord, the Obligations I have to some of the Great Men of your Nation,
+particularly to your Lordship, gives me an Ambition of making my
+Acknowledgements by all the Opportunities I can; and such humble Fruits
+as my Industry produces I lay at your Lordship’s Feet. This is a true
+Story, of a Man Gallant enough to merit your Protection, and, had he
+always been so Fortunate, he had not made so Inglorious an end: The
+Royal Slave I had the Honour to know in my Travels to the other World;
+and though I had none above me in that Country yet I wanted power to
+preserve this Great Man. If there be anything that seems Romantick I
+beseech your Lordship to consider these Countries do, in all things, so
+far differ from ours that they produce unconceivable Wonders, at least,
+so they appear to us, because New and Strange. What I have mentioned I
+have taken care shou’d be Truth, let the Critical Reader judge as he
+pleases. ’Twill be no Commendation to the Book to assure your Lordship I
+writ it in a few Hours, though it may serve to Excuse some of its Faults
+of Connexion, for I never rested my Pen a Moment for Thought: ’Tis
+purely the Merit of my Slave that must render it worthy of the Honour it
+begs; and the Author of that of Subscribing herself,
+
+  My Lord
+    Your Lordship’s most oblig’d
+      and obedient Servant
+        A. Behn.
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE _ROYAL SLAVE_.
+
+
+I do not pretend, in giving you the History of this _ROYAL SLAVE_, to
+entertain my Reader with the Adventures of a feign’d _Hero_, whose Life
+and Fortunes Fancy may manage at the Poet’s Pleasure; nor in relating
+the Truth, design to adorn it with any Accidents, but such as arrived in
+earnest to him: And it shall come simply into the World, recommended by
+its own proper Merits, and natural Intrigues; there being enough of
+Reality to support it, and to render it diverting, without the Addition
+of Invention.
+
+I was myself an Eye-witness to a great Part of what you will find here
+set down; and what I could not be Witness of, I receiv’d from the Mouth
+of the chief Actor in this History, the _Hero_ himself, who gave us the
+whole Transactions of his Youth: And I shall omit, for Brevity’s Sake,
+a thousand little Accidents of his Life, which, however pleasant to us,
+where History was scarce, and Adventures very rare, yet might prove
+tedious and heavy to my Reader, in a World where he finds Diversions for
+every Minute, new and strange. But we who were perfectly charm’d with
+the Character of this great Man, were curious to gather every
+Circumstance of his Life.
+
+The Scene of the last Part of his Adventures lies in a Colony in
+_America_, called _Surinam_, in the _West-Indies_.
+
+But before I give you the Story of this _Gallant Slave_, ’tis fit I tell
+you the Manner of bringing them to these new _Colonies_; those they make
+Use of there, not being _Natives_ of the Place: for those we live with
+in perfect Amity, without daring to command ’em; but, on the contrary,
+caress ’em with all the brotherly and friendly Affection in the World;
+trading with them for their Fish, Venison, Buffaloes Skins, and little
+Rarities; as _Marmosets_, a sort of Monkey, as big as a Rat or Weasel,
+but of a marvellous and delicate Shape, having Face and Hands like a
+Human Creature; and _Cousheries_, a little Beast in the Form and Fashion
+of a Lion, as big as a Kitten, but so exactly made in all Parts like
+that Noble Beast, that it is it in _Miniature_: Then for little
+_Paraketoes_, great _Parrots_, _Muckaws_, and a thousand other Birds and
+Beasts of wonderful and surprizing Forms, Shapes, and Colours: For Skins
+of prodigious Snakes, of which there are some three-score Yards in
+Length; as is the Skin of one that may be seen at his Majesty’s
+_Antiquary’s_; where are also some rare Flies, of amazing Forms and
+Colours, presented to ’em by myself; some as big as my Fist, some less;
+and all of various Excellencies, such as Art cannot imitate. Then we
+trade for Feathers, which they order into all Shapes, make themselves
+little short Habits of ’em, and glorious Wreaths for their Heads, Necks,
+Arms and Legs, whose Tinctures are unconceivable. I had a Set of these
+presented to me, and I gave ’em to the _King’s Theatre_; it was the
+Dress of the _Indian Queen_, infinitely admir’d by Persons of Quality;
+and was inimitable. Besides these, a thousand little Knacks, and
+Rarities in Nature; and some of Art, as their Baskets, Weapons, Aprons,
+&c. We dealt with ’em with Beads of all Colours, Knives, Axes, Pins and
+Needles, which they us’d only as Tools to drill Holes with in their
+Ears, Noses and Lips, where they hang a great many little Things; as
+long Beads, Bits of Tin, Brass or Silver beat thin, and any shining
+Trinket. The Beads they weave into Aprons about a Quarter of an Ell
+long, and of the same Breadth; working them very prettily in Flowers of
+several Colours; which Apron they wear just before ’em, as _Adam_ and
+_Eve_ did the Fig-leaves; the Men wearing a long Stripe of Linen, which
+they deal with us for. They thread these Beads also on long
+Cotton-threads, and make Girdles to tie their Aprons to, which come
+twenty times, or more, about the Waste, and then cross, like a
+Shoulder-belt, both Ways, and round their Necks, Arms and Legs. This
+Adornment, with their long black Hair, and the Face painted in little
+Specks or Flowers here and there, makes ’em a wonderful Figure to
+behold. Some of the Beauties, which indeed are finely shap’d, as almost
+all are, and who have pretty Features, are charming and novel; for they
+have all that is called Beauty, except the Colour, which is a reddish
+Yellow; or after a new Oiling, which they often use to themselves, they
+are of the Colour of a new Brick, but smooth, soft and sleek. They are
+extreme modest and bashful, very shy, and nice of being touch’d. And
+tho’ they are all thus naked, if one lives for ever among ’em, there is
+not to be seen an indecent Action, or Glance: and being continually us’d
+to see one another so unadorn’d, so like our first Parents before the
+Fall, it seems as if they had no Wishes, there being nothing to heighten
+Curiosity: but all you can see, you see at once, and every Moment see;
+and where there is no Novelty, there can be no Curiosity. Not but I have
+seen a handsome young _Indian_, dying for Love of a very beautiful young
+_Indian_ Maid; but all his Courtship was, to fold his Arms, pursue her
+with his Eyes, and Sighs were all his Language: While she, as if no such
+Lover were present, or rather as if she desired none such, carefully
+guarded her Eyes from beholding him; and never approach’d him, but she
+looked down with all the blushing Modesty I have seen in the most Severe
+and Cautious of our World. And these People represented to me an
+absolute _Idea_ of the first State of Innocence, before Man knew how to
+sin: And ’tis most evident and plain, that simple Nature is the most
+harmless, inoffensive and virtuous Mistress. ’Tis she alone, if she were
+permitted, that better instructs the World, than all the Inventions of
+Man: Religion would here but destroy that Tranquillity they possess by
+Ignorance; and Laws would but teach ’em to know Offences, of which now
+they have no Notion. They once made Mourning and Fasting for the Death
+of the _English_ Governor, who had given his Hand to come on such a Day
+to ’em, and neither came nor sent; believing, when a Man’s Word was
+past, nothing but Death could or should prevent his keeping it: And when
+they saw he was not dead, they ask’d him what Name they had for a Man
+who promis’d a Thing he did not do? The Governor told them, Such a Man
+was a _Lyar_, which was a Word of Infamy to a Gentleman. Then one of ’em
+reply’d, _Governor, you are a Lyar, and guilty of that Infamy_. They
+have a native Justice, which knows no Fraud; and they understand no
+Vice, or Cunning, but when they are taught by the _White_ Men. They have
+Plurality of Wives; which, when they grow old, serve those that succeed
+’em, who are young, but with a Servitude easy and respected; and unless
+they take Slaves in War, they have no other Attendants.
+
+Those on that _Continent_ where I was, had no King; but the oldest
+War-Captain was obey’d with great Resignation.
+
+A War-Captain is a Man who has led them on to Battle with Conduct and
+Success; of whom I shall have Occasion to speak more hereafter, and of
+some other of their Customs and Manners, as they fall in my Way.
+
+With these People, as I said, we live in perfect Tranquillity, and good
+Understanding, as it behoves us to do; they knowing all the Places where
+to seek the best Food of the Country, and the Means of getting it; and
+for very small and unvaluable Trifles, supplying us with what ’tis
+almost impossible for us to get; for they do not only in the Woods, and
+over the _Sevana’s_, in Hunting, supply the Parts of Hounds, by swiftly
+scouring thro’ those almost impassable Places, and by the mere Activity
+of their Feet, run down the nimblest Deer, and other eatable Beasts; but
+in the Water, one would think they were Gods of the Rivers, or
+Fellow-Citizens of the Deep; so rare an Art they have in swimming,
+diving, and almost living in Water; by which they command the less swift
+Inhabitants of the Floods. And then for shooting, what they cannot take,
+or reach with their Hands, they do with Arrows; and have so admirable an
+Aim, that they will split almost an Hair, and at any Distance that an
+Arrow can reach: they will shoot down Oranges, and other Fruit, and only
+touch the Stalk with the Dart’s Point, that they may not hurt the Fruit.
+So that they being on all Occasions very useful to us, we find it
+absolutely necessary to caress ’em as Friends, and not to treat ’em as
+Slaves; nor dare we do otherwise, their Numbers so far surpassing ours
+in that Continent.
+
+Those then whom we make use of to work in our Plantations of Sugar, are
+_Negroes_, Black-Slaves altogether, who are transported thither in this
+Manner.
+
+Those who want Slaves, make a Bargain with a Master, or a Captain of a
+Ship, and contract to pay him so much apiece, a Matter of twenty Pound a
+Head, for as many as he agrees for, and to pay for ’em when they shall
+be deliver’d on such a Plantation: So that when there arrives a Ship
+laden with Slaves, they who have so contracted, go aboard, and receive
+their Number by Lot; and perhaps in one Lot that may be for ten, there
+may happen to be three or four Men, the rest Women and Children. Or be
+there more or less of either Sex, you are obliged to be contented with
+your Lot.
+
+_Coramantien_, a Country of _Blacks_ so called, was one of those Places
+in which they found the most advantageous Trading for these Slaves, and
+thither most of our great Traders in that Merchandize traffick; for that
+Nation is very warlike and brave; and having a continual Campaign, being
+always in Hostility with one neighbouring Prince or other, they had the
+Fortune to take a great many Captives: for all they took in Battle were
+sold as Slaves; at least those common Men who could not ransom
+themselves. Of these Slaves so taken, the General only has all the
+Profit; and of these Generals our Captains and Masters of Ships buy all
+their Freights.
+
+The King of _Coramantien_ was of himself a Man of an hundred and odd
+Years old, and had no Son, tho’ he had many beautiful Black Wives: for
+most certainly there are Beauties that can charm of that Colour. In his
+younger Years he had had many gallant Men to his Sons, thirteen of whom
+died in Battle, conquering when they fell; and he had only left him for
+his Successor, one Grand-child, Son to one of these dead Victors, who,
+as soon as he could bear a Bow in his Hand, and a Quiver at his Back,
+was sent into the Field, to be train’d up by one of the oldest Generals
+to War; where, from his natural Inclination to Arms, and the Occasions
+given him, with the good Conduct of the old General, he became, at the
+Age of seventeen, one of the most expert Captains, and bravest Soldiers
+that ever saw the Field of _Mars_: so that he was ador’d as the Wonder
+of all that World, and the Darling of the Soldiers. Besides, he was
+adorn’d with a native Beauty, so transcending all those of his gloomy
+Race, that he struck an Awe and Reverence, even into those that knew not
+his Quality; as he did into me, who beheld him with Surprize and Wonder,
+when afterwards he arrived in our World.
+
+He had scarce arrived at his seventeenth Year, when, fighting by his
+Side, the General was kill’d with an Arrow in his Eye, which the Prince
+_Oroonoko_ (for so was this gallant _Moor_ call’d) very narrowly
+avoided; nor had he, if the General who saw the Arrow shot, and
+perceiving it aimed at the Prince, had not bow’d his Head between, on
+Purpose to receive it in his own Body, rather than it should touch that
+of the Prince, and so saved him.
+
+’Twas then, afflicted as _Oroonoko_ was, that he was proclaimed General
+in the old Man’s Place: and then it was, at the finishing of that War,
+which had continu’d for two Years, that the Prince came to Court, where
+he had hardly been a Month together, from the Time of his fifth Year to
+that of seventeen: and ’twas amazing to imagine where it was he learn’d
+so much Humanity; or to give his Accomplishments a juster Name, where
+’twas he got that real Greatness of Soul, those refined Notions of true
+Honour, that absolute Generosity, and that Softness, that was capable of
+the highest Passions of Love and Gallantry, whose Objects were almost
+continually fighting Men, or those mangled or dead, who heard no Sounds
+but those of War and Groans. Some Part of it we may attribute to the
+Care of a _Frenchman_ of Wit and Learning, who finding it turn to a very
+good Account to be a sort of Royal Tutor to this young Black, and
+perceiving him very ready, apt, and quick of Apprehension, took a great
+Pleasure to teach him Morals, Language and Science; and was for it
+extremely belov’d and valu’d by him. Another Reason was, he lov’d when
+he came from War, to see all the _English_ Gentlemen that traded
+thither; and did not only learn their Language, but that of the
+_Spaniard_ also, with whom he traded afterwards for Slaves.
+
+I have often seen and conversed with this Great Man, and been a Witness
+to many of his mighty Actions; and do assure my Reader, the most
+illustrious Courts could not have produced a braver Man, both for
+Greatness of Courage and Mind, a Judgment more solid, a Wit more quick,
+and a Conversation more sweet and diverting. He knew almost as much as
+if he had read much: He had heard of and admired the _Romans_: He had
+heard of the late Civil Wars in _England_, and the deplorable Death of
+our great Monarch; and would discourse of it with all the Sense and
+Abhorrence of the Injustice imaginable. He had an extreme good and
+graceful Mien, and all the Civility of a well-bred Great Man. He had
+nothing of Barbarity in his Nature, but in all Points address’d himself
+as if his Education had been in some _European_ Court.
+
+This great and just Character of _Oroonoko_ gave me an extreme Curiosity
+to see him, especially when I knew he spoke _French_ and _English_, and
+that I could talk with him. But tho’ I had heard so much of him, I was
+as greatly surprized when I saw him, as if I had heard nothing of him;
+so beyond all Report I found him. He came into the Room, and addressed
+himself to me, and some other Women, with the best Grace in the World.
+He was pretty tall, but of a Shape the most exact that can be fancy’d:
+The most famous Statuary could not form the Figure of a Man more
+admirably turn’d from Head to Foot. His Face was not of that brown rusty
+Black which most of that Nation are, but a perfect Ebony, or polished
+Jet. His Eyes were the most aweful that could be seen, and very
+piercing; the White of ’em being like Snow, as were his Teeth. His Nose
+was rising and _Roman_, instead of _African_ and flat: His Mouth the
+finest shaped that could be seen; far from those great turn’d Lips,
+which are so natural to the rest of the Negroes. The whole Proportion
+and Air of his Face was so nobly and exactly form’d, that bating his
+Colour, there could be nothing in Nature more beautiful, agreeable and
+handsome. There was no one Grace wanting, that bears the Standard of
+true Beauty. His Hair came down to his Shoulders, by the Aids of Art,
+which was by pulling it out with a Quill, and keeping it comb’d; of
+which he took particular Care. Nor did the Perfections of his Mind come
+short of those of his Person; for his Discourse was admirable upon
+almost any Subject: and whoever had heard him speak, would have been
+convinced of their Errors, that all fine Wit is confined to the white
+Men, especially to those of Christendom; and would have confess’d that
+_Oroonoko_ was as capable even of reigning well, and of governing as
+wisely, had as great a Soul, as politick Maxims, and was as sensible of
+Power, as any Prince civiliz’d in the most refined Schools of Humanity
+and Learning, or the most illustrious Courts.
+
+This Prince, such as I have describ’d him, whose Soul and Body were so
+admirably adorned, was (while yet he was in the Court of his
+Grandfather, as I said) as capable of Love, as ’twas possible for a
+brave and gallant Man to be; and in saying that, I have named the
+highest Degree of Love: for sure great Souls are most capable of that
+Passion.
+
+I have already said, the old General was kill’d by the Shot of an Arrow,
+by the Side of this Prince, in Battle; and that _Oroonoko_ was made
+General. This old dead Hero had one only Daughter left of his Race,
+a Beauty, that to describe her truly, one need say only, she was Female
+to the noble Male; the beautiful Black _Venus_ to our young _Mars_; as
+charming in her Person as he, and of delicate Virtues. I have seen a
+hundred White Men sighing after her, and making a thousand Vows at her
+Feet, all in vain and unsuccessful. And she was indeed too great for any
+but a Prince of her own Nation to adore.
+
+_Oroonoko_ coming from the Wars (which were now ended) after he had made
+his Court to his Grandfather, he thought in Honour he ought to make a
+Visit to _Imoinda_, the Daughter of his Foster-father, the dead General;
+and to make some Excuses to her, because his Preservation was the
+Occasion of her Father’s Death; and to present her with those Slaves
+that had been taken in this last Battle, as the Trophies of her Father’s
+Victories. When he came, attended by all the young Soldiers of any
+Merit, he was infinitely surpriz’d at the Beauty of this fair Queen of
+Night, whose Face and Person were so exceeding all he had ever beheld,
+that lovely Modesty with which she receiv’d him, that Softness in her
+Look and Sighs, upon the melancholy Occasion of this Honour that was
+done by so great a Man as _Oroonoko_, and a Prince of whom she had heard
+such admirable Things; the Awfulness wherewith she receiv’d him, and the
+Sweetness of her Words and Behaviour while he stay’d, gain’d a perfect
+Conquest over his fierce Heart, and made him feel, the Victor could be
+subdu’d. So that having made his first Compliments, and presented her an
+hundred and fifty Slaves in Fetters, he told her with his Eyes, that he
+was not insensible of her Charms; while _Imoinda_, who wish’d for
+nothing more than so glorious a Conquest, was pleas’d to believe, she
+understood that silent Language of new-born Love; and, from that Moment,
+put on all her Additions to Beauty.
+
+The Prince return’d to Court with quite another Humour than before; and
+tho’ he did not speak much of the fair _Imoinda_, he had the Pleasure to
+hear all his Followers speak of nothing but the Charms of that Maid,
+insomuch, that, even in the Presence of the old King, they were
+extolling her, and heightning, if possible, the Beauties they had found
+in her: so that nothing else was talk’d of, no other Sound was heard in
+every Corner where there were Whisperers, but _Imoinda! Imoinda!_
+
+’Twill be imagin’d _Oroonoko_ stay’d not long before he made his second
+Visit; nor, considering his Quality, not much longer before he told her,
+he ador’d her. I have often heard him say, that he admir’d by what
+strange Inspiration he came to talk Things so soft, and so passionate,
+who never knew Love, nor was us’d to the Conversation of Women; but
+(to use his own Words) he said, ‘Most happily, some new, and, till then,
+unknown Power instructed his Heart and Tongue in the Language of Love;
+and at the same Time, in Favour of him, inspir’d _Imoinda_ with a Sense
+of his Passion.’ She was touch’d with what he said, and return’d it all
+in such Answers as went to his very Heart, with a Pleasure unknown
+before. Nor did he use those Obligations ill, that Love had done him,
+but turn’d all his happy Moments to the best Advantage; and as he knew
+no Vice, his Flame aim’d at nothing but Honour, if such a Distinction
+may be made in Love; and especially in that Country, where Men take to
+themselves as many as they can maintain; and where the only Crime and
+Sin against a Woman, is, to turn her off, to abandon her to Want, Shame
+and Misery: such ill Morals are only practis’d in _Christian_ Countries,
+where they prefer the bare Name of Religion; and, without Virtue or
+Morality, think that sufficient. But _Oroonoko_ was none of those
+Professors; but as he had right Notions of Honour, so he made her such
+Propositions as were not only and barely such; but, contrary to the
+Custom of his Country, he made her Vows, she should be the only Woman he
+would possess while he liv’d; that no Age or Wrinkles should incline him
+to change: for her Soul would be always fine, and always young; and he
+should have an eternal _Idea_ in his Mind of the Charms she now bore;
+and should look into his Heart for that _Idea_, when he could find it no
+longer in her Face.
+
+After a thousand Assurances of his lasting Flame, and her eternal Empire
+over him, she condescended to receive him for her Husband; or rather,
+receive him, as the greatest Honour the Gods could do her.
+
+There is a certain Ceremony in these Cases to be observ’d, which I
+forgot to ask how ’twas perform’d; but ’twas concluded on both Sides,
+that in Obedience to him, the Grandfather was to be first made
+acquainted with the Design: For they pay a most absolute Resignation to
+the Monarch, especially when he is a Parent also.
+
+On the other Side, the old King, who had many Wives, and many
+Concubines, wanted not Court-Flatterers to insinuate into his Heart a
+thousand tender Thoughts for this young Beauty; and who represented her
+to his Fancy, as the most charming he had ever possess’d in all the long
+Race of his numerous Years. At this Character, his old Heart, like an
+extinguish’d Brand, most apt to take Fire, felt new Sparks of Love, and
+began to kindle; and now grown to his second Childhood, long’d with
+Impatience to behold this gay Thing, with whom, alas! he could but
+innocently play. But how he should be confirm’d she was this _Wonder_,
+before he us’d his Power to call her to Court, (where Maidens never
+came, unless for the King’s private Use) he was next to consider; and
+while he was so doing, he had Intelligence brought him, that _Imoinda_
+was most certainly Mistress to the Prince _Oroonoko_. This gave him some
+Chagrine: however, it gave him also an Opportunity, one Day, when the
+Prince was a hunting, to wait on a Man of Quality, as his Slave and
+Attendant, who should go and make a Present to _Imoinda_, as from the
+Prince; he should then, unknown, see this fair Maid, and have an
+Opportunity to hear what Message she would return the Prince for his
+Present, and from thence gather the State of her Heart, and Degree of
+her Inclination. This was put in Execution, and the old Monarch saw, and
+burn’d: He found her all he had heard, and would not delay his
+Happiness, but found he should have some Obstacle to overcome her Heart;
+for she express’d her Sense of the Present the Prince had sent her, in
+Terms so sweet, so soft and pretty, with an Air of Love and Joy that
+could not be dissembled, insomuch that ’twas past Doubt whether she
+lov’d _Oroonoko_ entirely. This gave the old King some Affliction; but
+he salv’d it with this, that the Obedience the People pay their King,
+was not at all inferior to what they paid their Gods; and what Love
+would not oblige _Imoinda_ to do, Duty would compel her to.
+
+He was therefore no sooner got into his Apartment, but he sent the Royal
+Veil to _Imoinda_; that is the Ceremony of Invitation: He sends the Lady
+he has a Mind to honour with his Bed, a Veil, with which she is covered,
+and secur’d for the King’s Use; and ’tis Death to disobey; besides, held
+a most impious Disobedience.
+
+’Tis not to be imagin’d the Surprize and Grief that seiz’d the lovely
+Maid at this News and Sight. However, as Delays in these Cases are
+dangerous, and Pleading worse than Treason; trembling, and almost
+fainting, she was oblig’d to suffer herself to be cover’d, and led away.
+
+They brought her thus to Court; and the King, who had caus’d a very rich
+Bath to be prepar’d, was led into it, where he sat under a Canopy, in
+State, to receive this long’d-for Virgin; whom he having commanded to be
+brought to him, they (after disrobing her) led her to the Bath, and
+making fast the Doors, left her to descend. The King, without more
+Courtship, bad her throw off her Mantle, and come to his Arms. But
+_Imoinda_, all in Tears, threw herself on the Marble, on the Brink of
+the Bath, and besought him to hear her. She told him, as she was a Maid,
+how proud of the Divine Glory she should have been, of having it in her
+Power to oblige her King: but as by the Laws he could not, and from his
+Royal Goodness would not take from any Man his wedded Wife; so she
+believ’d she should be the occasion of making him commit a great Sin, if
+she did not reveal her State and Condition; and tell him she was
+another’s, and could not be so happy to be his.
+
+The King, enrag’d at this Delay, hastily demanded the Name of the bold
+Man, that had married a Woman of her Degree, without his Consent.
+_Imoinda_ seeing his Eyes fierce, and his Hands tremble, (whether with
+Age or Anger, I know not, but she fancy’d the last) almost repented she
+had said so much, for now she fear’d the Storm would fall on the Prince;
+she therefore said a thousand Things to appease the raging of his Flame,
+and to prepare him to hear who it was with Calmness: but before she
+spoke, he imagin’d who she meant, but would not seem to do so, but
+commanded her to lay aside her Mantle, and suffer herself to receive his
+Caresses, or, by his Gods he swore, that happy Man whom she was going to
+name should die, tho’ it was even _Oroonoko_ himself. _Therefore_
+(said he) _deny this Marriage, and swear thyself a Maid. That_ (reply’d
+_Imoinda_) _by all our Powers I do; for I am not yet known to my
+Husband. ’Tis enough_ (said the King) _’tis enough both to satisfy my
+Conscience and my Heart._ And rising from his Seat, he went and led her
+into the Bath; it being in vain for her to resist.
+
+In this Time, the Prince, who was return’d from Hunting, went to visit
+his _Imoinda_, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard she had
+receiv’d the Royal Veil. This rais’d him to a Storm; and in his Madness,
+they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself.
+Force first prevail’d, and then Reason: They urg’d all to him, that
+might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh’d so greatly with him as the
+King’s old Age, uncapable of injuring him with _Imoinda_. He would give
+Way to that Hope, because it pleas’d him most, and flatter’d best his
+Heart. Yet this serv’d not altogether to make him cease his different
+Passions, which sometimes rag’d within him, and soften’d into Showers.
+’Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grandfather was old,
+and could not that Way injure him, while he retain’d that awful Duty
+which the young Men are us’d there to pay to their grave Relations. He
+could not be convinc’d he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss of
+a Mistress, he could not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve, and
+he would often cry, ‘Oh, my Friends! were she in wall’d Cities, or
+confin’d from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did
+Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me; I would venture thro’ any
+Hazard to free her; But here, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my Youth,
+my violent Love, my Trade in Arms, and all my vast Desire of Glory,
+avail me nothing. _Imoinda_ is as irrecoverably lost to me, as if she
+were snatch’d by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to be
+retrieved. If I would wait tedious Years; till Fate should bow the old
+King to his Grave, even that would not leave me _Imoinda_ free; but
+still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry his
+Father’s Wives or Mistresses, would hinder my Happiness; unless I would
+either ignobly set an ill Precedent to my Successors, or abandon my
+Country, and fly with her to some unknown World who never heard our
+Story.’
+
+But it was objected to him, That his Case was not the same: for
+_Imoinda_ being his lawful Wife by solemn Contract, ’twas he was the
+injur’d Man, and might, if he so pleas’d, take _Imoinda_ back, the
+Breach of the Law being on his Grandfather’s Side; and that if he could
+circumvent him, and redeem her from the _Otan_, which is the Palace of
+the King’s Women, a sort of _Seraglio_, it was both just and lawful for
+him so to do.
+
+This Reasoning had some Force upon him, and he should have been entirely
+comforted, but for the Thought that she was possess’d by his
+Grandfather. However, he lov’d her so well, that he was resolv’d to
+believe what most favour’d his Hope, and to endeavour to learn from
+_Imoinda’s_ own Mouth, what only she could satisfy him in, whether she
+was robb’d of that Blessing which was only due to his Faith and Love.
+But as it was very hard to get a Sight of the Women, (for no Men ever
+enter’d into the _Otan_ but when the King went to entertain himself with
+some one of his Wives or Mistresses; and ’twas Death, at any other Time,
+for any other to go in) so he knew not how to contrive to get a Sight of
+her.
+
+While _Oroonoko_ felt all the Agonies of Love, and suffer’d under a
+Torment the most painful in the World, the old King was not exempted
+from his Share of Affliction. He was troubled, for having been forc’d,
+by an irresistible Passion, to rob his Son of a Treasure, he knew, could
+not but be extremely dear to him; since she was the most beautiful that
+ever had been seen, and had besides, all the Sweetness and Innocence of
+Youth and Modesty, with a Charm of Wit surpassing all. He found, that
+however she was forc’d to expose her lovely Person to his wither’d Arms,
+she could only sigh and weep there, and think of _Oroonoko_; and
+oftentimes could not forbear speaking of him, tho’ her Life were, by
+Custom, forfeited by owning her Passion. But she spoke not of a Lover
+only, but of a Prince dear to him to whom she spoke; and of the Praises
+of a Man, who, ’till now, fill’d the old Man’s Soul with Joy at every
+Recital of his Bravery, or even his Name. And ’twas this Dotage on our
+young Hero, that gave _Imoinda_ a thousand Privileges to speak of him
+without offending; and this Condescension in the old King, that made her
+take the Satisfaction of speaking of him so very often.
+
+Besides, he many times enquir’d how the Prince bore himself: And those
+of whom he ask’d, being entirely Slaves to the Merits and Virtues of the
+Prince, still answer’d what they thought conduc’d best to his Service;
+which was, to make the old King fancy that the Prince had no more
+Interest in _Imoinda_, and had resign’d her willingly to the Pleasure of
+the King; that he diverted himself with his Mathematicians, his
+Fortifications, his Officers, and his Hunting.
+
+This pleas’d the old Lover, who fail’d not to report these Things again
+to _Imoinda_, that she might, by the Example of her young Lover,
+withdraw her Heart, and rest better contented in his Arms. But, however
+she was forc’d to receive this unwelcome News, in all Appearance, with
+Unconcern and Content; her Heart was bursting within, and she was only
+happy when she could get alone, to vent her Griefs and Moans with Sighs
+and Tears.
+
+What Reports of the Prince’s Conduct were made to the King, he thought
+good to justify, as far as possibly he could, by his Actions; and when
+he appear’d in the Presence of the King, he shew’d a Face not at all
+betraying his Heart: so that in a little Time, the old Man, being
+entirely convinc’d that he was no longer a Lover of _Imoinda_ he carry’d
+him with him in his Train to the _Otan_, often to banquet with his
+Mistresses. But as soon as he enter’d, one Day, into the Apartment of
+_Imoinda_, with the King, at the first Glance from her Eyes,
+notwithstanding all his determined Resolution, he was ready to sink in
+the Place where he stood; and had certainly done so, but for the Support
+of _Aboan_, a young Man who was next to him; which, with his Change of
+Countenance, had betray’d him, had the King chanc’d to look that Way.
+And I have observ’d, ’tis a very great Error in those who laugh when one
+says, _A +Negro+ can change Colour_: for I have seen ’em as frequently
+blush, and look pale, and that as visibly as ever I saw in the most
+beautiful _White_. And ’tis certain, that both these Changes were
+evident, this Day, in both these Lovers. And _Imoinda_, who saw with
+some Joy the Change in the Prince’s Face, and found it in her own,
+strove to divert the King from beholding either, by a forc’d Caress,
+with which she met him; which was a new Wound in the Heart of the poor
+dying Prince. But as soon as the King was busy’d in looking on some fine
+Thing of _Imoinda’s_ making, she had Time to tell the Prince, with her
+angry, but Love-darting Eyes, that she resented his Coldness, and
+bemoan’d her own miserable Captivity. Nor were his Eyes silent, but
+answer’d her’s again, as much as Eyes could do, instructed by the most
+tender and most passionate Heart that ever lov’d: And they spoke so
+well, and so effectually, as _Imoinda_ no longer doubted but she was the
+only Delight and Darling of that Soul she found pleading in ’em its
+Right of Love, which none was more willing to resign than she. And ’twas
+this powerful Language alone that in an Instant convey’d all the
+Thoughts of their Souls to each other; that they both found there wanted
+but Opportunity to make them both entirely happy. But when he saw
+another Door open’d by _Onahal_ (a former old Wife of the King’s, who
+now had Charge of _Imoinda_) and saw the Prospect of a Bed of State made
+ready, with Sweets and Flowers for the Dalliance of the King, who
+immediately led the trembling Victim from his Sight, into that prepar’d
+Repose; what Rage! what wild Frenzies seiz’d his Heart! which forcing to
+keep within Bounds, and to suffer without Noise, it became the more
+insupportable, and rent his Soul with ten thousand Pains. He was forc’d
+to retire to vent his Groans, where he fell down on a Carpet, and lay
+struggling a long Time, and only breathing now and then--Oh _Imoinda_!
+When _Onahal_ had finished her necessary Affair within, shutting the
+Door, she came forth, to wait till the King called; and hearing some one
+sighing in the other Room, she pass’d on, and found the Prince in that
+deplorable Condition, which she thought needed her Aid. She gave him
+Cordials, but all in vain; till finding the Nature of his Disease, by
+his Sighs, and naming _Imoinda_, she told him he had not so much Cause
+as he imagined to afflict himself: for if he knew the King so well as
+she did, he would not lose a Moment in Jealousy; and that she was
+confident that _Imoinda_ bore, at this Minute, Part in his Affliction.
+_Aboan_ was of the same Opinion, and both together persuaded him to
+re-assume his Courage; and all sitting down on the Carpet, the Prince
+said so many obliging Things to _Onahal_, that he half-persuaded her to
+be of his Party: and she promised him, she would thus far comply with
+his just Desires, that she would let _Imoinda_ know how faithful he was,
+what he suffer’d, and what he said.
+
+This Discourse lasted till the King called, which gave _Oroonoko_ a
+certain Satisfaction; and with the Hope _Onahal_ had made him conceive,
+he assumed a Look as gay as ’twas possible a Man in his Circumstances
+could do: and presently after, he was call’d in with the rest who waited
+without. The King commanded Musick to be brought, and several of his
+young Wives and Mistresses came all together by his Command, to dance
+before him; where _Imoinda_ perform’d her Part with an Air and Grace so
+surpassing all the rest, as her Beauty was above ’em, and received the
+Present ordained as a Prize. The Prince was every Moment more charmed
+with the new Beauties and Graces he beheld in this Fair-One; and while
+he gazed, and she danc’d, _Onahal_ was retired to a Window with _Aboan_.
+
+This _Onahal_, as I said, was one of the Cast-Mistresses of the old
+King; and ’twas these (now past their Beauty) that were made Guardians
+or Governantees to the new and the young ones, and whose Business it was
+to teach them all those wanton Arts of Love, with which they prevail’d
+and charm’d heretofore in their Turn; and who now treated the triumphing
+Happy-ones with all the Severity, as to Liberty and Freedom, that was
+possible, in Revenge of the Honours they rob them of; envying them those
+Satisfactions, those Gallantries and Presents, that were once made to
+themselves, while Youth and Beauty lasted, and which they now saw pass,
+as it were regardless by, and paid only to the Bloomings. And certainly,
+nothing is more afflicting to a decay’d Beauty, than to behold in itself
+declining Charms, that were once ador’d; and to find those Caresses paid
+to new Beauties, to which once she laid Claim; to hear them whisper, as
+she passes by, that once was a delicate Woman. Those abandon’d ladies
+therefore endeavour to revenge all the Despights and Decays of Time, on
+these flourishing Happy-ones. And ’twas this Severity that gave
+_Oroonoko_ a thousand Fears he should never prevail with _Onahal_ to see
+_Imoinda_. But, as I said, she was now retir’d to a Window with _Aboan_.
+
+This young Man was not only one of the best Quality, but a Man extremely
+well made, and beautiful; and coming often to attend the King to the
+_Otan_, he had subdu’d the Heart of the antiquated _Onahal_, which had
+not forgot how pleasant it was to be in love. And tho’ she had some
+Decays in her Face, she had none in her Sense and Wit; she was there
+agreeable still, even to _Aboan’s_ Youth: so that he took Pleasure in
+entertaining her with Discourses of Love. He knew also, that to make his
+Court to these She-favourites, was the Way to be great; these being the
+Persons that do all Affairs and Business at Court. He had also observed,
+that she had given him Glances more tender and inviting than she had
+done to others of his Quality. And now, when he saw that her Favour
+could so absolutely oblige the Prince, he fail’d not to sigh in her Ear,
+and look with Eyes all soft upon her, and gave her Hope that she had
+made some Impressions on his Heart. He found her pleas’d at this, and
+making a thousand Advances to him: but the Ceremony ending, and the King
+departing, broke up the Company for that Day, and his Conversation.
+
+_Aboan_ fail’d not that Night to tell the Prince of his Success, and how
+advantageous the Service of _Onahal_ might be to his Amour with
+_Imoinda_. The Prince was overjoy’d with this good News, and besought
+him, if it were possible, to caress her so, as to engage her entirely,
+which he could not fail to do, if he comply’d with her Desires: _For
+then_ (said the Prince) _her Life lying at your Mercy, she must grant
+you the Request you make in my Behalf_. _Aboan_ understood him, and
+assur’d him he would make Love so effectually, that he would defy the
+most expert Mistress of the Art, to find out whether he dissembled it,
+or had it really. And ’twas with Impatience they waited the next
+Opportunity of going to the _Otan_.
+
+The Wars came on, the Time of taking the Field approached; and ’twas
+impossible for the Prince to delay his going at the Head of his Army to
+encounter the Enemy; so that every Day seem’d a tedious Year, till he
+saw his _Imoinda_: for he believed he could not live, if he were forced
+away without being so happy. ’Twas with Impatience therefore that he
+expected the next Visit the King would make; and, according to his Wish,
+it was not long.
+
+The Parley of the Eyes of these two Lovers had not pass’d so secretly,
+but an old jealous Lover could spy it; or rather, he wanted not
+Flatterers who told him they observ’d it: so that the Prince was
+hasten’d to the Camp, and this was the last Visit he found he should
+make to the _Otan_; he therefore urged _Aboan_ to make the best of this
+last Effort, and to explain himself so to _Onahal_, that she deferring
+her Enjoyment of her young Lover no longer, might make Way for the
+Prince to speak to _Imoinda_.
+
+The whole Affair being agreed on between the Prince and _Aboan_, they
+attended the King, as the Custom was, to the _Otan_; where, while the
+whole Company was taken up in beholding the Dancing, and Antick Postures
+the Women-Royal made to divert the King, _Onahal_ singled out _Aboan_,
+whom she found most pliable to her Wish. When she had him where she
+believed she could not be heard, she sigh’d to him, and softly cry’d,
+‘Ah, _Aboan!_ when will you be sensible of my Passion? I confess it with
+my Mouth, because I would not give my Eyes the Lye; and you have but too
+much already perceived they have confess’d my Flame: nor would I have
+you believe, that because I am the abandon’d Mistress of a King,
+I esteem myself altogether divested of Charms: No, _Aboan_; I have still
+a Rest of Beauty enough engaging, and have learn’d to please too well,
+not to be desirable. I can have Lovers still, but will have none but
+_Aboan_. Madam, (_reply’d the half-feigning Youth_) you have already, by
+my Eyes, found you can still conquer; and I believe ’tis in pity of me
+you condescend to this kind Confession. But, Madam, Words are used to be
+so small a Part of our Country-Courtship, that ’tis rare one can get so
+happy an Opportunity as to tell one’s Heart; and those few Minutes we
+have, are forced to be snatch’d for more certain Proofs of Love than
+speaking and sighing: and such I languish for.’
+
+He spoke this with such a Tone, that she hoped it true, and could not
+forbear believing it; and being wholly transported with Joy for having
+subdued the finest of all the King’s Subjects to her Desires, she took
+from her Ears two large Pearls, and commanded him to wear ’em in his. He
+would have refused ’em, crying, _Madam these are not the Proofs of our
+Love that I expect; ’tis Opportunity, ’tis a Lone-Hour only, that can
+make me happy._ But forcing the Pearls into his Hand, she whisper’d
+softly to him; _Oh! do not fear a Woman’s Invention, when Love sets her
+a thinking._ And pressing his Hand, she cry’d, _This Night you shall be
+happy. Come to the Gate of the Orange-Grove, behind the +Otan+, and I
+will be ready about midnight to receive you._ ’Twas thus agreed, and she
+left him, that no Notice might be taken of their speaking together.
+
+The Ladies were still dancing, and the King, laid on a Carpet, with a
+great deal of Pleasure was beholding them, especially _Imoinda_, who
+that Day appeared more lovely than ever, being enlivened with the good
+Tidings _Onahal_ had brought her, of the constant Passion the Prince had
+for her. The Prince was laid on another Carpet at the other End of the
+Room, with his Eyes fixed on the Object of his Soul; and as she turned
+or moved, so did they; and she alone gave his Eyes and Soul their
+Motions. Nor did _Imoinda_ employ her Eyes to any other use, than in
+beholding with infinite Pleasure the Joy she produced in those of the
+Prince. But while she was more regarding him than the Steps she took,
+she chanced to fall, and so near him, as that leaping with extreme Force
+from the Carpet, he caught her in his Arms as she fell; and ’twas
+visible to the whole Presence, the Joy wherewith he received her. He
+clasped her close to his Bosom, and quite forgot that Reverence that was
+due to the Mistress of a King, and that Punishment that is the Reward of
+a Boldness of this Nature. And had not the Presence of Mind of _Imoinda_
+(fonder of his Safety than her own) befriended him, in making her spring
+from his Arms, and fall into her Dance again, he had at that Instant met
+his Death; for the old King, jealous to the last Degree, rose up in
+Rage, broke all the Diversion, and led _Imoinda_ to her Apartment, and
+sent out Word to the Prince, to go immediately to the Camp; and that if
+he were found another Night in Court, he should suffer the Death
+ordained for disobedient Offenders.
+
+You may imagine how welcome this News was to _Oroonoko_, whose
+unseasonable Transport and Caress of _Imoinda_ was blamed by all Men
+that loved him: and now he perceived his Fault, yet cry’d, _That for
+such another Moment he would be content to die_.
+
+All the _Otan_ was in Disorder about this Accident; and _Onahal_ was
+particularly concern’d, because on the Prince’s Stay depended her
+Happiness; for she could no longer expect that of _Aboan_: So that e’er
+they departed, they contrived it so, that the Prince and he should both
+come that Night to the Grove of the _Otan_, which was all of Oranges and
+Citrons, and that there they would wait her Orders.
+
+They parted thus with Grief enough ’till Night, leaving the King in
+Possession of the lovely Maid. But nothing could appease the Jealousy of
+the old Lover; he would not be imposed on, but would have it, that
+_Imoinda_ made a false Step on Purpose to fall into _Oroonoko’s_ Bosom,
+and that all things looked like a Design on both Sides; and ’twas in
+vain she protested her Innocence: He was old and obstinate, and left
+her, more than half assur’d that his Fear was true.
+
+The King going to his Apartment, sent to know where the Prince was, and
+if he intended to obey his Command. The Messenger return’d, and told
+him, he found the Prince pensive, and altogether unprepar’d for the
+Campaign; that he lay negligently on the Ground, and answer’d very
+little. This confirmed the Jealousy of the King, and he commanded that
+they should very narrowly and privately watch his Motions; and that he
+should not stir from his Apartment, but one Spy or other should be
+employ’d to watch him: So that the Hour approaching, wherein he was to
+go to the Citron-Grove; and taking only _Aboan_ along with him, he
+leaves his Apartment, and was watched to the very Gate of the _Otan_;
+where he was seen to enter, and where they left him, to carry back the
+Tidings to the King.
+
+_Oroonoko_ and _Aboan_ were no sooner enter’d, but _Onahal_ led the
+Prince to the Apartment of _Imoinda_; who, not knowing any thing of her
+Happiness, was laid in Bed. But _Onahal_ only left him in her Chamber,
+to make the best of his Opportunity, and took her dear _Aboan_ to her
+own; where he shewed the Height of Complaisance for his Prince, when, to
+give him an Opportunity, he suffered himself to be caressed in Bed by
+_Onahal_.
+
+The Prince softly waken’d _Imoinda_, who was not a little surpriz’d with
+Joy to find him there; and yet she trembled with a thousand Fears.
+I believe he omitted saying nothing to this young Maid, that might
+persuade her to suffer him to seize his own, and take the Rights of
+Love. And I believe she was not long resisting those Arms where she so
+longed to be; and having Opportunity, Night, and Silence, Youth, Love,
+and Desire, he soon prevail’d, and ravished in a Moment what his old
+Grandfather had been endeavouring for so many Months.
+
+’Tis not to be imagined the Satisfaction of these two young Lovers; nor
+the Vows she made him, that she remained a spotless Maid till that
+Night, and that what she did with his Grandfather had robb’d him of no
+Part of her Virgin-Honour; the Gods, in Mercy and Justice, having
+reserved that for her plighted Lord, to whom of Right it belonged. And
+’tis impossible to express the Transports he suffer’d, while he listen’d
+to a Discourse so charming from her loved Lips; and clasped that Body in
+his Arms, for whom he had so long languished; and nothing now afflicted
+him, but his sudden Departure from her; for he told her the Necessity,
+and his Commands, but should depart satisfy’d in this, That since the
+old King had hitherto not been able to deprive him of those Enjoyments
+which only belonged to him, he believed for the future he would be less
+able to injure him; so that, abating the Scandal of the Veil, which was
+no otherwise so, than that she was Wife to another, he believed her
+safe, even in the Arms of the King, and innocent; yet would he have
+ventur’d at the Conquest of the World, and have given it all to have had
+her avoided that Honour of receiving the _Royal Veil_. ’Twas thus,
+between a thousand Caresses, that both bemoan’d the hard Fate of Youth
+and Beauty, so liable to that cruel Promotion: ’Twas a Glory that could
+well have been spared here, tho’ desired and aim’d at by all the young
+Females of that Kingdom.
+
+But while they were thus fondly employ’d, forgetting how Time ran on,
+and that the Dawn must conduct him far away from his only Happiness,
+they heard a great Noise in the _Otan_, and unusual Voices of Men; at
+which the Prince, starting from the Arms of the frighted _Imoinda_, ran
+to a little Battle-Ax he used to wear by his Side; and having not so
+much Leisure as to put on his Habit, he opposed himself against some who
+were already opening the Door: which they did with so much Violence,
+that _Oroonoko_ was not able to defend it; but was forced to cry out
+with a commanding Voice, ‘Whoever ye are that have the Boldness to
+attempt to approach this Apartment thus rudely; know, that I, the Prince
+_Oroonoko_, will revenge it with the certain Death of him that first
+enters: Therefore stand back, and know, this Place is sacred to Love and
+Me this Night; To-morrow ’tis the King’s.’
+
+This he spoke with a Voice so resolv’d and assur’d, that they soon
+retired from the Door; but cry’d, ‘’Tis by the King’s Command we are
+come; and being satisfy’d by thy Voice, O Prince, as much as if we had
+enter’d, we can report to the King the Truth of all his Fears, and leave
+thee to provide for thy own Safety, as thou art advis’d by thy Friends.’
+
+At these Words they departed, and left the Prince to take a short and
+sad Leave of his _Imoinda_; who, trusting in the Strength of her Charms,
+believed she should appease the Fury of a jealous King, by saying, she
+was surprized, and that it was by Force of Arms he got into her
+Apartment. All her Concern now was for his Life, and therefore she
+hasten’d him to the Camp, and with much ado prevail’d on him to go. Nor
+was it she alone that prevail’d; _Aboan_ and _Onahal_ both pleaded, and
+both assured him of a Lye that should be well enough contrived to secure
+_Imoinda_. So that at last, with a Heart sad as Death, dying Eyes, and
+sighing Soul, _Oroonoko_ departed, and took his way to the Camp.
+
+It was not long after, the King in Person came to the _Otan_; where
+beholding _Imoinda_, with Rage in his Eyes, he upbraided her Wickedness,
+and Perfidy; and threatning her Royal Lover, she fell on her Face at his
+Feet, bedewing the Floor with her Tears, and imploring his Pardon for a
+Fault which she had not with her Will committed; as _Onahal_, who was
+also prostrate with her, could testify: That, unknown to her, he had
+broke into her Apartment, and ravished her. She spoke this much against
+her Conscience; but to save her own Life, ’twas absolutely necessary she
+should feign this Falsity. She knew it could not injure the Prince, he
+being fled to an Army that would stand by him, against any Injuries that
+should assault him. However, this last Thought of _Imoinda’s_ being
+ravished, changed the Measures of his Revenge; and whereas before he
+designed to be himself her Executioner, he now resolved she should not
+die. But as it is the greatest Crime in Nature amongst them, to touch a
+Woman after having been possess’d by a Son, a Father, or a Brother, so
+now he looked on _Imoinda_ as a polluted thing wholly unfit for his
+Embrace; nor would he resign her to his Grandson, because she had
+received the _Royal Veil_: He therefore removes her from the _Otan_,
+with _Onahal_; whom he put into safe Hands, with Order they should be
+both sold off as Slaves to another Country, either _Christian_ or
+_Heathen_, ’twas no Matter where.
+
+This cruel Sentence, worse than Death, they implor’d might be reversed;
+but their Prayers were vain, and it was put in Execution accordingly,
+and that with so much Secrecy, that none, either without or within the
+_Otan_, knew any thing of their Absence, or their Destiny.
+
+The old King nevertheless executed this with a great deal of Reluctancy;
+but he believed he had made a very great Conquest over himself, when he
+had once resolved, and had perform’d what he resolved. He believed now,
+that his Love had been unjust; and that he could not expect the Gods, or
+_Captain of the Clouds_ (as they call the unknown Power) would suffer a
+better Consequence from so ill a Cause. He now begins to hold _Oroonoko_
+excused; and to say, he had reason for what he did. And now every body
+could assure the King how passionately _Imoinda_ was beloved by the
+Prince; even those confess’d it now, who said the contrary before his
+Flame was not abated. So that the King being old, and not able to defend
+himself in War, and having no Sons of all his Race remaining alive, but
+only this, to maintain him on his Throne; and looking on this as a man
+disobliged, first by the Rape of his Mistress, or rather Wife, and now
+by depriving him wholly of her, he fear’d, might make him desperate, and
+do some cruel thing, either to himself or his old Grandfather the
+Offender, he began to repent him extremely of the Contempt he had, in
+his Rage, put on _Imoinda_. Besides, he consider’d he ought in Honour to
+have killed her for this Offence, if it had been one. He ought to have
+had so much Value and Consideration for a Maid of her Quality, as to
+have nobly put her to Death, and not to have sold her like a common
+Slave; the greatest Revenge, and the most disgraceful of any, and to
+which they a thousand times prefer Death, and implore it; as _Imoinda_
+did, but could not obtain that Honour. Seeing therefore it was certain
+that _Oroonoko_ would highly resent this Affront, he thought good to
+make some Excuse for his Rashness to him; and to that End, he sent a
+Messenger to the Camp, with Orders to treat with him about the Matter,
+to gain his Pardon, and endeavour to mitigate his Grief: but that by no
+Means he should tell him she was sold, but secretly put to Death; for he
+knew he should never obtain his Pardon for the other.
+
+When the Messenger came, he found the Prince upon the Point of engaging
+with the Enemy; but as soon as he heard of the Arrival of the Messenger,
+he commanded him to his Tent, where he embraced him, and received him
+with Joy; which was soon abated by the down-cast Looks of the Messenger,
+who was instantly demanded the Cause by _Oroonoko_; who, impatient of
+Delay, ask’d a thousand Questions in a Breath, and all concerning
+_Imoinda_. But there needed little Return; for he could almost answer
+himself of all he demanded, from his Sight and Eyes. At last the
+Messenger casting himself at the Prince’s Feet, and kissing them with
+all the Submission of a Man that had something to implore which he
+dreaded to utter, besought him to hear with Calmness what he had to
+deliver to him, and to call up all his noble and heroick Courage, to
+encounter with his Words, and defend himself against the ungrateful
+Things he had to relate. _Oroonoko_ reply’d, with a deep Sigh, and a
+languishing Voice,--_I am armed against their worst Efforts--For I know
+they will tell me, +Imoinda+ is no more--And after that, you may spare
+the rest._ Then, commanding him to rise, he laid himself on a Carpet,
+under a rich Pavilion, and remained a good while silent, and was hardly
+heard to sigh. When he was come a little to himself, the Messenger asked
+him Leave to deliver that Part of his Embassy which the Prince had not
+yet divin’d: And the Prince cry’d, _I permit thee_--Then he told him the
+Affliction the old King was in, for the Rashness he had committed in his
+Cruelty to _Imoinda_; and how he deign’d to ask Pardon for his Offence,
+and to implore the Prince would not suffer that Loss to touch his Heart
+too sensibly, which now all the Gods could not restore him, but might
+recompense him in Glory, which he begged he would pursue; and that
+Death, that common Revenger of all Injuries, would soon even the Account
+between him and a feeble old Man.
+
+_Oroonoko_ bad him return his Duty to his Lord and Master; and to assure
+him, there was no Account of Revenge to be adjudged between them; If
+there was, he was the Aggressor, and that Death would be just, and,
+maugre his Age, would see him righted; and he was contented to leave his
+Share of Glory to Youths more fortunate and worthy of that Favour from
+the Gods: That henceforth he would never lift a Weapon, or draw a Bow,
+but abandon the small Remains of his Life to Sighs and Tears, and the
+continual Thoughts of what his Lord and Grandfather had thought good to
+send out of the World, with all that Youth, that Innocence and Beauty.
+
+After having spoken this, whatever his greatest Officers and Men of the
+best Rank could do, they could not raise him from the Carpet, or
+persuade him to Action, and Resolutions of Life; but commanding all to
+retire, he shut himself into his Pavilion all that Day, while the Enemy
+was ready to engage: and wondring at the Delay, the whole Body of the
+chief of the Army then address’d themselves to him, and to whom they had
+much ado to get Admittance. They fell on their Faces at the Foot of his
+Carpet, where they lay, and besought him with earnest Prayers and Tears
+to lead them forth to Battle, and not let the Enemy take Advantages of
+them; and implored him to have Regard to his Glory, and to the World,
+that depended on his Courage and Conduct. But he made no other Reply to
+all their Supplications than this, That he had now no more Business for
+Glory; and for the World, it was a Trifle not worth his Care: _Go_,
+(continued he, sighing) _and divide it amongst you, and reap with Joy
+what you so vainly prize, and leave me to my more welcome Destiny._
+
+They then demanded what they should do, and whom he would constitute in
+his Room, that the Confusion of ambitious Youth and Power might not ruin
+their Order, and make them a Prey to the Enemy. He reply’d, he would not
+give himself that Trouble--but wished ’em to chuse the bravest Man
+amongst ’em, let his Quality or Birth be what it would: ‘For, Oh my
+Friends! (says he) it is not Titles make Men Brave or Good; or Birth
+that bestows Courage and Generosity, or makes the Owner Happy. Believe
+this, when you behold _Oroonoko_ the most wretched, and abandoned by
+Fortune, of all the Creation of the Gods.’ So turning himself about, he
+would make no more Reply to all they could urge or implore.
+
+The Army beholding their Officers return unsuccessful, with sad Faces
+and ominous Looks, that presaged no good Luck, suffer’d a thousand Fears
+to take Possession of their Hearts, and the Enemy to come even upon them
+before they could provide for their Safety by any Defence: and tho’ they
+were assured by some who had a Mind to animate them, that they should be
+immediately headed by the Prince; and that in the mean time _Aboan_ had
+Orders to command as General; yet they were so dismay’d for want of that
+great Example of Bravery, that they could make but a very feeble
+Resistance; and, at last, down-right fled before the Enemy, who pursued
+’em to the very Tents, killing ’em: Nor could all _Aboan’s_ Courage,
+which that Day gained him immortal Glory, shame ’em into a manly Defence
+of themselves. The Guards that were left behind about the Prince’s Tent,
+seeing the Soldiers flee before the Enemy, and scatter themselves all
+over the Plain, in great Disorder, made such Out-cries, as rouz’d the
+Prince from his amorous Slumber, in which he had remained buried for two
+Days, without permitting any Sustenance to approach him. But, in Spite
+of all his Resolutions, he had not the Constancy of Grief to that
+Degree, as to make him insensible of the Danger of his Army; and in that
+Instant he leaped from his Couch, and cry’d--‘Come, if we must die, let
+us meet Death the noblest Way; and ’twill be more like _Oroonoko_ to
+encounter him at an Army’s Head, opposing the Torrent of a conquering
+Foe, than lazily on a Couch, to wait his lingering Pleasure, and die
+every Moment by a thousand racking Thoughts; or be tamely taken by an
+Enemy, and led a whining, love-sick Slave to adorn the Triumphs of
+_Jamoan_, that young Victor, who already is enter’d beyond the Limits I
+have prescrib’d him.’
+
+While he was speaking, he suffer’d his People to dress him for the
+Field; and sallying out of his Pavilion, with more Life and Vigour in
+his Countenance than ever he shew’d, he appear’d like some Divine Power
+descended to save his Country from Destruction: And his People had
+purposely put him on all Things that might make him shine with most
+Splendor, to strike a reverend Awe into the Beholders. He flew into the
+thickest of those that were pursuing his Men; and being animated with
+Despair, he fought as if he came on Purpose to die, and did such Things
+as will not be believed that human Strength could perform; and such, as
+soon inspir’d all the rest with new Courage, and new Ardor. And now it
+was that they began to fight indeed; and so, as if they would not be
+out-done even by their ador’d Hero; who turning the Tide of the Victory,
+changing absolutely the Fate of the Day, gain’d an entire Conquest: And
+_Oroonoko_ having the good Fortune to single out _Jamoan_, he took him
+Prisoner with his own Hand, having wounded him almost to Death.
+
+This _Jamoan_ afterwards became very dear to him, being a Man very
+Gallant, and of excellent Graces, and fine Parts; so that he never put
+him amongst the Rank of Captives as they used to do, without
+Distinction, for the common Sale, or Market, but kept him in his own
+Court, where he retain’d nothing of the Prisoner but the Name, and
+returned no more into his own Country; so great an Affection he took for
+_Oroonoko_, and by a thousand Tales and Adventures of Love and
+Gallantry, flatter’d his Disease of Melancholy and Languishment; which I
+have often heard him say, had certainly kill’d him, but for the
+Conversation of this Prince and _Aboan_, and the _French_ Governor he
+had from his Childhood, of whom I have spoken before, and who was a Man
+of admirable Wit, great Ingenuity and Learning; all which he had infused
+into his young Pupil. This _Frenchman_ was banished out of his own
+Country for some Heretical Notions he held; and tho’ he was a Man of
+very little Religion, yet he had admirable Morals, and a brave Soul.
+
+After the total Defeat of _Jamoan’s_ Army, which all fled, or were left
+dead upon the Place, they spent some Time in the Camp; _Oroonoko_
+chusing rather to remain a While there in his Tents, than to enter into
+a Palace, or live in a Court where he had so lately suffer’d so great a
+Loss, the Officers therefore, who saw and knew his Cause of Discontent,
+invented all sorts of Diversions and Sports to entertain their Prince:
+So that what with those Amusements abroad, and others at home, that is,
+within their Tents, with the Persuasions, Arguments, and Care of his
+Friends and Servants that he more peculiarly priz’d, he wore off in Time
+a great Part of that Chagrin, and Torture of Despair, which the first
+Efforts of _Imoinda’s_ Death had given him; insomuch, as having received
+a thousand kind Embassies from the King, and Invitation to return to
+Court, he obey’d, tho’ with no little Reluctancy; and when he did so,
+there was a visible Change in him, and for a long Time he was much more
+melancholy than before. But Time lessens all Extremes, and reduces ’em
+to Mediums, and Unconcern; but no Motives of Beauties, tho’ all
+endeavour’d it, could engage him in any sort of Amour, tho’ he had all
+the Invitations to it, both from his own Youth, and other Ambitions and
+Designs.
+
+_Oroonoko_ was no sooner return’d from this last Conquest, and receiv’d
+at Court with all the Joy and Magnificence that could be express’d to a
+young Victor, who was not only return’d Triumphant, but belov’d like a
+Deity, than there arriv’d in the Port an _English_ Ship.
+
+The Master of it had often before been in these Countries, and was very
+well known to _Oroonoko_, with whom he had traffick’d for Slaves, and
+had us’d to do the same with his Predecessors.
+
+This Commander was a Man of a finer sort of Address and Conversation,
+better bred, and more engaging, than most of that sort of Men are; so
+that he seem’d rather never to have been bred out of a Court, than
+almost all his Life at Sea. This Captain therefore was always better
+receiv’d at Court, than most of the Traders to those Countries were; and
+especially by _Oroonoko_, who was more civiliz’d, according to the
+_European_ Mode, than any other had been, and took more Delight in the
+_White_ Nations; and, above all, Men of Parts and Wit. To this Captain
+he sold abundance of his Slaves; and for the Favour and Esteem he had
+for him, made him many Presents, and oblig’d him to stay at Court as
+long as possibly he could. Which the Captain seem’d to take as a very
+great Honour done him, entertaining the Prince every Day with Globes and
+Maps, and Mathematical Discourses and Instruments; eating, drinking,
+hunting, and living with him with so much Familiarity, that it was not
+to be doubted but he had gain’d very greatly upon the Heart of this
+gallant young Man. And the Captain, in Return of all these mighty
+Favours, besought the Prince to honour his Vessel with his Presence some
+Day or other at Dinner, before he should set sail; which he condescended
+to accept, and appointed his Day. The Captain, on his Part, fail’d not
+to have all Things in a Readiness, in the most magnificent Order he
+could possibly: And the Day being come, the Captain, in his Boat, richly
+adorn’d with Carpets and Velvet Cushions, rowed to the Shore, to receive
+the Prince; with another Long-boat, where was plac’d all his Musick and
+Trumpets, with which _Oroonoko_ was extremely delighted; who met him on
+the Shore, attended by his _French_ Governor, _Jamoan_, _Aboan_, and
+about an Hundred of the noblest of the Youths of the Court: And after
+they had first carried the Prince on Board, the Boats fetch’d the rest
+off; where they found a very splendid Treat, with all Sorts of fine
+Wines; and were as well entertain’d, as ’twas possible in such a Place
+to be.
+
+The Prince having drank hard of Punch, and several Sorts of Wine, as did
+all the rest, (for great Care was taken they should want nothing of that
+Part of the Entertainment) was very merry, and in great Admiration of
+the Ship, for he had never been in one before; so that he was curious of
+beholding every Place where he decently might descend. The rest, no less
+curious, who were not quite overcome with drinking, rambled at their
+Pleasure _Fore_ and _Aft_, as their Fancies guided ’em: So that the
+Captain, who had well laid his Design before, gave the Word, and seiz’d
+on all his Guests; they clapping great Irons suddenly on the Prince,
+when he was leap’d down into the Hold, to view that Part of the Vessel;
+and locking him fast down, secur’d him. The same Treachery was used to
+all the rest; and all in one Instant, in several Places of the Ship,
+were lash’d fast in Irons, and betray’d to Slavery. That great Design
+over, they set all Hands at Work to hoist Sail; and with as treacherous
+as fair a Wind they made from the Shore with this innocent and glorious
+Prize, who thought of nothing less than such an Entertainment.
+
+Some have commended this Act, as brave in the Captain; but I will spare
+my Sense of it, and leave it to my Reader to judge as he pleases. It may
+be easily guess’d, in what Manner the Prince resented this Indignity,
+who may be best resembled to a Lion taken in a Toil; so he raged, so he
+struggled for Liberty, but all in vain: And they had so wisely managed
+his Fetters, that he could not use a Hand in his Defence, to quit
+himself of a Life that would by no Means endure Slavery; nor could he
+move from the Place where he was ty’d, to any solid Part of the Ship,
+against which he might have beat his Head, and have finish’d his
+Disgrace that Way. So that being deprived of all other Means, he
+resolv’d to perish for want of Food; and pleas’d at last with that
+Thought, and toil’d and tir’d by Rage and Indignation, he laid himself
+down, and sullenly resolv’d upon dying, and refused all Things that were
+brought him.
+
+This did not a little vex the Captain, and the more so, because he found
+almost all of ’em of the same Humour; so that the Loss of so many brave
+Slaves, so tall and goodly to behold, would have been very considerable:
+He therefore order’d one to go from him (for he would not be seen
+himself) to _Oroonoko_, and to assure him, he was afflicted for having
+rashly done so unhospitable a Deed, and which could not be now remedied,
+since they were far from Shore; but since he resented it in so high a
+Nature, he assur’d him he would revoke his Resolution, and set both him
+and his Friends ashore on the next Land they should touch at; and of
+this the Messenger gave him his Oath, provided he would resolve to live.
+And _Oroonoko_, whose Honour was such, as he never had violated a Word
+in his Life himself, much less a solemn Asseveration, believ’d in an
+Instant what this Man said; but reply’d, He expected, for a Confirmation
+of this, to have his shameful Fetters dismis’d. This Demand was carried
+to the Captain; who return’d him Answer, That the Offence had been so
+great which he had put upon the Prince, that he durst not trust him with
+Liberty while he remain’d in the Ship, for fear, lest by a Valour
+natural to him, and a Revenge that would animate that Valour, he might
+commit some Outrage fatal to himself, and the King his Master, to whom
+the Vessel did belong. To this _Oroonoko_ reply’d, He would engage his
+Honour to behave himself in all friendly Order and Manner, and obey the
+Command of the Captain, as he was Lord of the King’s Vessel, and General
+of those Men under his Command.
+
+This was deliver’d to the still doubting Captain, who could not resolve
+to trust a Heathen, he said, upon his Parole, a Man that had no Sense or
+Notion of the God that he worshipp’d. _Oroonoko_ then reply’d, He was
+very sorry to hear that the Captain pretended to the Knowledge and
+Worship of any Gods, who had taught him no better Principles, than not
+to credit as he would be credited. But they told him, the Difference of
+their Faith occasion’d that Distrust: for the Captain had protested to
+him upon the Word of a Christian, and sworn in the Name of a great GOD;
+which if he should violate, he must expect eternal Torments in the World
+to come. ‘Is that all the Obligations he has to be just to his Oath?
+(reply’d _Oroonoko_) Let him know, I swear by my Honour; which to
+violate, would not only render me contemptible and despised by all brave
+and honest Men, and so give my self perpetual Pain, but it would be
+eternally offending and displeasing all Mankind; harming, betraying,
+circumventing, and outraging all Men. But Punishments hereafter are
+suffer’d by one’s self; and the World takes no Cognizance whether this
+GOD has reveng’d ’em or not, ’tis done so secretly, and deferr’d so
+long; while the Man of no Honour suffers every Moment the Scorn and
+Contempt of the honester World, and dies every Day ignominiously in his
+Fame, which is more valuable than Life. I speak not this to move Belief,
+but to shew you how you mistake, when you imagine, that he who will
+violate his Honour, will keep his Word with his _Gods_.’ So, turning
+from him with a disdainful Smile, he refused to answer him, when he
+urged him to know what Answer he should carry back to his Captain; so
+that he departed without saying any more.
+
+The Captain pondering and consulting what to do, it was concluded, that
+nothing but _Oroonoko’s_ Liberty would encourage any of the rest to eat,
+except the _Frenchman_, whom the Captain could not pretend to keep
+Prisoner, but only told him, he was secur’d, because he might act
+something in Favour of the Prince; but that he should be freed as soon
+as they came to Land. So that they concluded it wholly necessary to free
+the Prince from his Irons, that he might shew himself to the rest; that
+they might have an Eye upon him, and that they could not fear a single
+Man.
+
+This being resolved, to make the Obligation the greater, the Captain
+himself went to _Oroonoko_; where, after many Compliments, and
+Assurances of what he had already promis’d, he receiving from the Prince
+his Parole, and his Hand, for his good Behaviour, dismiss’d his Irons,
+and brought him to his own Cabin; where, after having treated and
+repos’d him a While, (for he had neither eat nor slept in four Days
+before) he besought him to visit those obstinate People in Chains, who
+refused all manner of Sustenance; and intreated him to oblige ’em to
+eat, and assure ’em of their Liberty the first Opportunity.
+
+_Oroonoko_, who was too generous not to give Credit to his Words, shew’d
+himself to his People, who were transported with Excess of Joy at the
+Sight of their darling Prince; falling at his Feet, and kissing and
+embracing ’em; believing, as some divine Oracle, all he assur’d ’em. But
+he besought ’em to bear their Chains with that Bravery that became those
+whom he had seen act so nobly in Arms; and that they could not give him
+greater Proofs of their Love and Friendship, since ’twas all the
+Security the Captain (his Friend) could have against the Revenge, he
+said, they might possibly justly take for the Injuries sustained by him.
+And they all, with one Accord, assur’d him, that they could not suffer
+enough, when it was for his Repose and Safety.
+
+After this, they no longer refus’d to eat, but took what was brought
+’em, and were pleas’d with their Captivity, since by it they hoped to
+redeem the Prince, who, all the rest of the Voyage, was treated with all
+the Respect due to his Birth, tho’ nothing could divert his Melancholy;
+and he would often sigh for _Imoinda_, and think this a Punishment due
+to his Misfortune, in having left that noble Maid behind him, that fatal
+Night, in the _Otan_, when he fled to the Camp.
+
+Possess’d with a thousand Thoughts of past Joys with this fair young
+Person, and a thousand Griefs for her eternal Loss, he endur’d a tedious
+Voyage, and at last arriv’d at the Mouth of the River of _Surinam_, a
+Colony belonging to the King of _England_, and where they were to
+deliver some Part of their Slaves. There the Merchants and Gentlemen of
+the Country going on Board, to demand those Lots of Slaves they had
+already agreed on; and, amongst those, the Overseers of those
+Plantations where I then chanc’d to be: The Captain, who had given the
+Word, order’d his Men to bring up those noble Slaves in Fetters, whom I
+have spoken of; and having put ’em, some in one, and some in other Lots,
+with Women and Children, (which they call _Pickaninies_) they sold ’em
+off, as Slaves to several Merchants and Gentlemen; not putting any two
+in one Lot, because they would separate ’em far from each other; nor
+daring to trust ’em together, lest Rage and Courage should put ’em upon
+contriving some great Action, to the Ruin of the Colony.
+
+_Oroonoko_ was first seiz’d on, and sold to our Overseer, who had the
+first Lot, with seventeen more of all Sorts and Sizes, but not one of
+Quality with him. When he saw this, he found what they meant; for, as I
+said, he understood _English_ pretty well; and being wholly unarm’d and
+defenceless, so as it was in vain to make any Resistance, he only beheld
+the Captain with a Look all fierce and disdainful, upbraiding him with
+Eyes that forc’d Blushes on his guilty Cheeks, he only cry’d in passing
+over the Side of the Ship; _Farewel, Sir, ’tis worth my Sufferings to
+gain so true a Knowledge, both of you, and of your Gods, by whom you
+swear._ And desiring those that held him to forbear their Pains, and
+telling ’em he would make no Resistance, he cry’d, _Come, my
+Fellow-Slaves, let us descend, and see if we can meet with more Honour
+and Honesty in the next World we shall touch upon._ So he nimbly leapt
+into the Boat, and shewing no more Concern, suffer’d himself to be row’d
+up the River, with his seventeen Companions.
+
+The Gentleman that bought him, was a young _Cornish_ Gentleman, whose
+Name was _Trefry_; a Man of great Wit, and fine Learning, and was
+carried into those Parts by the Lord ---- Governor, to manage all his
+Affairs. He reflecting on the last Words of _Oroonoko_ to the Captain,
+and beholding the Richness of his Vest, no sooner came into the Boat,
+but he fix’d his Eyes on him; and finding something so extraordinary in
+his Face, his Shape and Mein, a Greatness of Look, and Haughtiness in
+his Air, and finding he spoke _English_, had a great Mind to be
+enquiring into his Quality and Fortune; which, though _Oroonoko_
+endeavour’d to hide, by only confessing he was above the Rank of common
+Slaves, _Trefry_ soon found he was yet something greater than he
+confess’d; and from that Moment began to conceive so vast an Esteem for
+him, that he ever after lov’d him as his dearest Brother, and shew’d him
+all the Civilities due to so great a Man.
+
+_Trefry_ was a very good Mathematician, and a Linguist; could speak
+_French_ and _Spanish_; and in the three Days they remain’d in the Boat,
+(for so long were they going from the Ship to the Plantation) he
+entertain’d _Oroonoko_ so agreeably with his Art and Discourse, that he
+was no less pleas’d with _Trefry_, than he was with the Prince; and he
+thought himself, at least, fortunate in this, that since he was a Slave,
+as long as he would suffer himself to remain so, he had a Man of so
+excellent Wit and Parts for a Master. So that before they had finish’d
+their Voyage up the River, he made no Scruple of declaring to _Trefry_
+all his Fortunes, and most Part of what I have here related, and put
+himself wholly into the Hands of his new Friend, who he found resented
+all the Injuries were done him, and was charm’d with all the Greatnesses
+of his Actions; which were recited with that Modesty, and delicate
+Sense, as wholly vanquish’d him, and subdu’d him to his Interest. And he
+promis’d him, on his Word and Honour, he would find the Means to
+re-conduct him to his own Country again; assuring him, he had a perfect
+Abhorrence of so dishonourable an Action; and that he would sooner have
+dy’d, than have been the Author of such a Perfidy. He found the Prince
+was very much concerned to know what became of his Friends, and how they
+took their Slavery; and _Trefry_ promised to take Care about the
+enquiring after their Condition, and that he should have an Account
+of ’em.
+
+Tho’, as _Oroonoko_ afterwards said, he had little Reason to credit the
+Words of a _Backearary_; yet he knew not why, but he saw a kind of
+Sincerity, and aweful Truth in the Face of _Trefry_; he saw Honesty in
+his Eyes, and he found him wise and witty enough to understand Honour:
+for it was one of his Maxims, _A Man of Wit could not be a Knave or
+Villain_.
+
+In their Passage up the River, they put in at several Houses for
+Refreshment; and ever when they landed, Numbers of People would flock to
+behold this Man: not but their Eyes were daily entertain’d with the
+Sight of Slaves; but the Fame of _Oroonoko_ was gone before him, and all
+People were in Admiration of his Beauty. Besides, he had a rich Habit
+on, in which he was taken, so different from the rest, and which the
+Captain could not strip him of, because he was forc’d to surprize his
+Person in the Minute he sold him. When he found his Habit made him
+liable, as he thought, to be gazed at the more, he begged _Trefry_ to
+give him something more befitting a Slave, which he did, and took off
+his Robes: Nevertheless, he shone thro’ all, and his _Osenbrigs_ (a sort
+of brown _Holland_ Suit he had on) could not conceal the Graces of his
+Looks and Mein; and he had no less Admirers than when he had his dazling
+Habit on: The Royal Youth appear’d in spite of the Slave, and People
+could not help treating him after a different Manner, without designing
+it. As soon as they approached him, they venerated and esteemed him; his
+Eyes insensibly commanded Respect, and his Behaviour insinuated it into
+every Soul. So that there was nothing talked of but this young and
+gallant Slave, even by those who yet knew not that he was a Prince.
+
+I ought to tell you, that the Christians never buy any Slaves but they
+give ’em some Name of their own, their native ones being likely very
+barbarous, and hard to pronounce; so that Mr. _Trefry_ gave _Oroonoko_
+that of _Cæsar_; which name will live in that Country as long as that
+(scarce more) glorious one of the great _Roman_: for ’tis most evident
+he wanted no Part of the personal Courage of that _Cæsar_, and acted
+Things as memorable, had they been done in some Part of the World
+replenished with People and Historians, that might have given him his
+Due. But his Misfortune was, to fall in an obscure World, that afforded
+only a Female Pen to celebrate his Fame; tho’ I doubt not but it had
+lived from others Endeavours, if the _Dutch_, who immediately after his
+Time took that Country, had not killed, banished and dispersed all those
+that were capable of giving the World this great Man’s Life, much better
+than I have done. And Mr. _Trefry_, who design’d it, died before he
+began it, and bemoan’d himself for not having undertook it in Time.
+
+For the future therefore I must call _Oroonoko Cæsar_; since by that
+Name only he was known in our Western World, and by that Name he was
+received on Shore at _Parham-House_, where he was destin’d a Slave. But
+if the King himself (God bless him) had come ashore, there could not
+have been greater Expectation by all the whole Plantation, and those
+neighbouring ones, than was on ours at that Time; and he was received
+more like a Governor than a Slave: Notwithstanding, as the Custom was,
+they assigned him his Portion of Land, his House and his Business up in
+the Plantation. But as it was more for Form, than any Design to put him
+to his Task, he endured no more of the Slave but the Name, and remain’d
+some Days in the House, receiving all Visits that were made him, without
+stirring towards that Part of the Plantation where the _Negroes_ were.
+
+At last, he would needs go view his Land, his House, and the Business
+assign’d him. But he no sooner came to the Houses of the Slaves, which
+are like a little Town by itself, the _Negroes_ all having left Work,
+but they all came forth to behold him, and found he was that Prince who
+had, at several Times, sold most of ’em to these Parts; and from a
+Veneration they pay to great Men, especially if they know ’em, and from
+the Surprize and Awe they had at the Sight of him, they all cast
+themselves at his Feet, crying out, in their Language, _Live, O King!
+Long live, O King!_ and kissing his Feet, paid him even Divine Homage.
+
+Several _English_ Gentlemen were with him, and what Mr. _Trefry_ had
+told ’em was here confirm’d; of which he himself before had no other
+Witness than _Cæsar_ himself: But he was infinitely glad to find his
+Grandeur confirmed by the Adoration of all the Slaves.
+
+_Cæsar_, troubled with their Over-Joy, and Over-Ceremony, besought ’em
+to rise, and to receive him as their Fellow-Slave; assuring them he was
+no better. At which they set up with one Accord a most terrible and
+hideous Mourning and Condoling, which he and the _English_ had much ado
+to appease: but at last they prevailed with ’em, and they prepared all
+their barbarous Musick, and every one kill’d and dress’d something of
+his own Stock (for every Family has their Land apart, on which, at their
+Leisure-times, they breed all eatable Things) and clubbing it together,
+made a most magnificent Supper, inviting their _Grandee Captain_, their
+_Prince_, to honour it with his Presence; which he did, and several
+_English_ with him, where they all waited on him, some playing, others
+dancing before him all the Time, according to the Manners of their
+several Nations, and with unwearied Industry endeavouring to please and
+delight him.
+
+While they sat at Meat, Mr. _Trefry_ told _Cæsar_, that most of these
+young Slaves were undone in Love with a fine She-Slave, whom they had
+had about six Months on their Land; the Prince, who never heard the Name
+of _Love_ without a Sigh, nor any Mention of it without the Curiosity of
+examining further into that Tale, which of all Discourses was most
+agreeable to him, asked, how they came to be so unhappy, as to be all
+undone for one fair Slave? _Trefry_, who was naturally amorous, and
+delighted to talk of Love as well as any Body, proceeded to tell him,
+they had the most charming Black that ever was beheld on their
+Plantation, about fifteen or sixteen Years old, as he guess’d; that for
+his Part he had done nothing but sigh for her ever since she came; and
+that all the White Beauties he had seen, never charm’d him so absolutely
+as this fine Creature had done; and that no Man, of any Nation, ever
+beheld her, that did not fall in love with her; and that she had all the
+Slaves perpetually at her Feet; and the whole Country resounded with the
+Fame of _Clemene_, for so (said he) we have christen’d her: but she
+denies us all with such a noble Disdain, that ’tis a Miracle to see,
+that she who can give such eternal Desires, should herself be all Ice
+and all Unconcern. She is adorn’d with the most graceful Modesty that
+ever beautify’d Youth; the softest Sigher--that, if she were capable of
+Love, one would swear she languished for some absent happy Man; and so
+retired, as if she fear’d a Rape even from the God of Day, or that the
+Breezes would steal Kisses from her delicate Mouth. Her Task of Work,
+some sighing Lover every Day makes it his Petition to perform for her;
+which she accepts blushing, and with Reluctancy, for Fear he will ask
+her a Look for a Recompence, which he dares not presume to hope; so
+great an Awe she strikes into the Hearts of her Admirers. ‘I do not
+wonder (_reply’d the Prince_) that _Clemene_ should refuse Slaves,
+being, as you say, so beautiful; but wonder how she escapes those that
+can entertain her as you can do: or why, being your Slave, you do not
+oblige her to yield?’ ‘I confess (_said +Trefry+_) when I have, against
+her Will, entertained her with Love so long, as to be transported with
+my Passion even above Decency, I have been ready to make Use of those
+Advantages of Strength and Force Nature has given me: But Oh! she
+disarms me with that Modesty and Weeping, so tender and so moving, that
+I retire, and thank my Stars she overcame me.’ The Company laugh’d at
+his Civility to a Slave, and _Cæsar_ only applauded the Nobleness of
+his Passion and Nature, since that Slave might be noble, or, what was
+better, have true Notions of Honour and Virtue in her. Thus passed they
+this Night, after having received from the Slaves all imaginable Respect
+and Obedience.
+
+The next Day, _Trefry_ ask’d _Cæsar_ to walk when the Heat was allay’d,
+and designedly carried him by the Cottage of the fair Slave; and told
+him she whom he spoke of last Night lived there retir’d: _But_ (says he)
+_I would not wish you to approach; for I am sure you will be in Love as
+soon as you behold her._ _Cæsar_ assured him, he was Proof against all
+the Charms of that Sex; and that if he imagined his Heart could be so
+perfidious to love again after _Imoinda_, he believed he should tear it
+from his Bosom. They had no sooner spoke, but a little Shock-Dog, that
+_Clemene_ had presented her, which she took great Delight in, ran out;
+and she, not knowing any Body was there, ran to get it in again, and
+bolted out on those who were just speaking of her: when seeing them, she
+would have run in again, but _Trefry_ caught her by the Hand, and cry’d,
+Clemene, _however you fly a Lover, you ought to pay some Respect to this
+Stranger_, (pointing to _Cæsar_.) But she, as if she had resolved never
+to raise her Eyes to the Face of a Man again, bent ’em the more to the
+Earth, when he spoke, and gave the Prince the Leisure to look the more
+at her. There needed no long gazing, or Consideration, to examine who
+this fair Creature was; he soon saw _Imoinda_ all over her: in a Minute
+he saw her Face, her Shape, her Air, her Modesty, and all that call’d
+forth his Soul with Joy at his Eyes, and left his Body destitute of
+almost Life: it stood without Motion, and for a Minute knew not that it
+had a Being; and, I believe, he had never come to himself, so oppress’d
+he was with Over-joy, if he had not met with this Allay, that he
+perceived _Imoinda_ fall dead in the Hands of _Trefry_. This awaken’d
+him, and he ran to her Aid, and caught her in his Arms, where by Degrees
+she came to her self; and ’tis needless to tell with what Transports,
+what Extasies of Joy, they both a While beheld each other, without
+speaking; then snatched each other to their Arms; then gaze again, as if
+they still doubted whether they possess’d the Blessing they grasped: but
+when they recover’d their Speech, ’tis not to be imagined what tender
+Things they express’d to each other; wondring what strange Fate had
+brought them again together. They soon inform’d each other of their
+Fortunes, and equally bewail’d their Fate; but at the same Time they
+mutually protested, that even Fetters and Slavery were soft and easy,
+and would be supported with Joy and Pleasure, while they could be so
+happy to possess each other, and to be able to make good their Vows.
+_Cæsar_ swore he disdained the Empire of the World, while he could
+behold his _Imoinda_; and she despised Grandeur and Pomp, those Vanities
+of her Sex, when she could gaze on _Oroonoko_. He ador’d the very
+Cottage where she resided, and said, That little Inch of the World would
+give him more Happiness than all the Universe could do; and she vow’d it
+was a Palace, while adorned with the Presence of _Oroonoko_.
+
+_Trefry_ was infinitely pleased with this Novel, and found this
+_Clemene_ was the fair Mistress of whom _Cæsar_ had before spoke; and
+was not a little satisfy’d, that Heaven was so kind to the Prince as to
+sweeten his Misfortunes by so lucky an Accident; and leaving the Lovers
+to themselves, was impatient to come down to _Parham-House_ (which was
+on the same Plantation) to give me an Account of what had happened.
+I was as impatient to make these Lovers a Visit, having already made
+a Friendship with _Cæsar_, and from his own Mouth learned what I have
+related; which was confirmed by his _Frenchman_, who was set on shore
+to seek his Fortune, and of whom they could not make a Slave, because
+a Christian; and he came daily to _Parham-Hill_ to see and pay his
+Respects to his Pupil Prince. So that concerning and interesting myself
+in all that related to _Cæsar_, whom I had assured of Liberty as soon
+as the Governour arrived, I hasted presently to the Place where these
+Lovers were, and was infinitely glad to find this beautiful young
+Slave (who had already gain’d all our Esteems, for her Modesty and
+extraordinary Prettiness) to be the same I had heard _Cæsar_ speak so
+much of. One may imagine then we paid her a treble Respect; and tho’
+from her being carved in fine Flowers and Birds all over her Body, we
+took her to be of Quality before, yet when we knew _Clemene_ was
+_Imoinda_, we could not enough admire her.
+
+I had forgot to tell you, that those who are nobly born of that Country,
+are so delicately cut and raised all over the Fore-part of the Trunk of
+their Bodies, that it looks as if it were japan’d, the Works being
+raised like high Point round the Edges of the Flowers. Some are only
+carved with a little Flower, or Bird, at the Sides of the Temples, as
+was _Cæsar_; and those who are so carved over the Body, resemble our
+antient _Picts_ that are figur’d in the Chronicles, but these Carvings
+are more delicate.
+
+From that happy Day _Cæsar_ took _Clemene_ for his Wife, to the general
+Joy of all People; and there was as much Magnificence as the Country
+could afford at the Celebration of this Wedding: And in a very short
+Time after she conceived with Child, which made _Cæsar_ even adore her,
+knowing he was the last of his great Race. This new Accident made him
+more impatient of Liberty, and he was every Day treating with _Trefrey_
+for his and _Clemene’s_ Liberty, and offer’d either Gold, or a vast
+Quantity of Slaves, which should be paid before they let him go,
+provided he could have any Security that he should go when his Ransom
+was paid. They fed him from Day to Day with Promises, and delay’d him
+till the Lord-Governor should come; so that he began to suspect them of
+Falshood, and that they would delay him till the Time of his Wife’s
+Delivery, and make a Slave of the Child too; for all the Breed is theirs
+to whom the Parents belong. This Thought made him very uneasy, and his
+Sullenness gave them some Jealousies of him; so that I was obliged, by
+some Persons who fear’d a Mutiny (which is very fatal sometimes in those
+Colonies that abound so with Slaves, that they exceed the Whites in vast
+Numbers) to discourse with _Cæsar_, and to give him all the Satisfaction
+I possibly could: They knew he and _Clemene_ were scarce an Hour in a
+Day from my Lodgings; that they eat with me, and that I oblig’d them in
+all Things I was capable. I entertained them with the Lives of the
+_Romans_, and great Men, which charmed him to my Company; and her, with
+teaching her all the pretty Works that I was Mistress of, and telling
+her Stories of Nuns, and endeavouring to bring her to the Knowledge of
+the true God: But of all Discourses, _Cæsar_ liked that the worst, and
+would never be reconciled to our Notions of the Trinity, of which he
+ever made a Jest; it was a Riddle he said would turn his Brain to
+conceive, and one could not make him understand what Faith was. However,
+these Conversations fail’d not altogether so well to divert him, that he
+liked the Company of us Women much above the Men, for he could not
+drink, and he is but an ill Companion in that Country that cannot. So
+that obliging him to love us very well, we had all the Liberty of Speech
+with him, especially my self, whom he call’d his _Great Mistress_; and
+indeed my Word would go a great Way with him. For these Reasons I had
+Opportunity to take Notice to him, that he was not well pleased of late,
+as he used to be; was more retired and thoughtful; and told him, I took
+it ill he should suspect we would break our Words with him, and not
+permit both him and _Clemene_ to return to his own Kingdom, which was
+not so long a Way, but when he was once on his Voyage he would quickly
+arrive there. He made me some Answers that shew’d a Doubt in him, which
+made me ask, what Advantage it would be to doubt? It would but give us a
+Fear of him, and possibly compel us to treat him so as I should be very
+loth to behold; that is, it might occasion his Confinement. Perhaps this
+was not so luckily spoke of me, for I perceiv’d he resented that Word,
+which I strove to soften again in vain: However, he assur’d me, that
+whatsoever Resolutions he should take, he would act nothing upon the
+_White_ People; and as for myself, and those upon that _Plantation_
+where he was, he would sooner forfeit his eternal Liberty, and Life
+itself, than lift his Hand against his greatest Enemy on that Place. He
+besought me to suffer no Fears upon his Account, for he could do nothing
+that Honour should not dictate; but he accused himself for having
+suffer’d Slavery so long; yet he charg’d that Weakness on Love alone,
+who was capable of making him neglect even Glory itself; and, for which,
+now he reproaches himself every Moment of the Day. Much more to this
+Effect he spoke, with an Air impatient enough to make me know he would
+not be long in Bondage; and tho’ he suffer’d only the Name of a Slave,
+and had nothing of the Toil and Labour of one, yet that was sufficient
+to render him uneasy; and he had been too long idle, who us’d to be
+always in Action, and in Arms. He had a Spirit all rough and fierce, and
+that could not be tam’d to lazy Rest: And tho’ all Endeavours were us’d
+to exercise himself in such Actions and Sports as this World afforded,
+as Running, Wrestling, Pitching the Bar, Hunting and Fishing, Chasing
+and Killing _Tygers_ of a monstrous Size, which this Continent affords
+in abundance; and wonderful _Snakes_, such as _Alexander_ is reported to
+have encounter’d at the River of _Amazons_, and which _Cæsar_ took great
+Delight to overcome; yet these were not Actions great enough for his
+large Soul, which was still panting after more renown’d Actions.
+
+Before I parted that Day with him, I got, with much ado, a Promise from
+him to rest yet a little longer with Patience, and wait the Coming of
+the Lord Governour, who was every Day expected on our Shore: He assur’d
+me he would, and this Promise he desired me to know was given perfectly
+in Complaisance to me, in whom he had an entire Confidence.
+
+After this, I neither thought it convenient to trust him much out of our
+View, nor did the Country, who fear’d him; but with one Accord it was
+advis’d to treat him fairly, and oblige him to remain within such a
+Compass, and that he should be permitted, as seldom as could be, to go
+up to the Plantations of the _Negroes_; or, if he did, to be accompany’d
+by some that should be rather, in Appearance, Attendants than Spies.
+This Care was for some time taken, and _Cæsar_ look’d upon it as a Mark
+of extraordinary Respect, and was glad his Discontent had oblig’d ’em to
+be more observant to him; he received new Assurance from the Overseer,
+which was confirmed to him by the Opinion of all the Gentlemen of the
+Country, who made their Court to him. During this Time that we had his
+Company more frequently than hitherto we had had, it may not be
+unpleasant to relate to you the Diversions we entertain’d him with, or
+rather he us.
+
+My Stay was to be short in that Country; because my Father dy’d at Sea,
+and never arriv’d to possess the Honour design’d him, (which was
+Lieutenant-General of six and thirty Islands, besides the Continent of
+_Surinam_) nor the Advantages he hop’d to reap by them: So that though
+we were oblig’d to continue on our Voyage, we did not intend to stay
+upon the Place. Though, in a Word, I must say thus much of it; That
+certainly had his late Majesty, of sacred Memory, but seen and known
+what a vast and charming World he had been Master of in that Continent,
+he would never have parted so easily with it to the _Dutch_. ’Tis a
+Continent, whose vast Extent was never yet known, and may contain more
+noble Earth than all the Universe beside; for, they say, it reaches from
+East to West one Way as far as _China_, and another to _Peru_: It
+affords all Things, both for Beauty and Use; ’tis there eternal Spring,
+always the very Months of _April_, _May_, and _June_; the Shades are
+perpetual, the Trees bearing at once all Degrees of Leaves, and Fruit,
+from blooming Buds to ripe Autumn: Groves of Oranges, Lemons, Citrons,
+Figs, Nutmegs, and noble Aromaticks, continually bearing their
+Fragrancies: The Trees appearing all like Nosegays, adorn’d with Flowers
+of different Kinds; some are all White, some Purple, some Scarlet, some
+Blue, some Yellow; bearing at the same Time ripe Fruit, and blooming
+young, or producing every Day new. The very Wood of all these Trees has
+an intrinsic Value, above common Timber; for they are, when cut, of
+different Colours, glorious to behold, and bear a Price considerable, to
+inlay withal. Besides this, they yield rich Balm, and Gums; so that we
+make our Candles of such an aromatic Substance, as does not only give a
+sufficient Light, but as they burn, they cast their Perfumes all about.
+Cedar is the common Firing, and all the Houses are built with it. The
+very Meat we eat, when set on the Table, if it be native, I mean of the
+Country, perfumes the whole Room; especially a little Beast call’d an
+_Armadillo_, a Thing which I can liken to nothing so well as a
+_Rhinoceros_; ’tis all in white Armour, so jointed, that it moves as
+well in it, as if it had nothing on: This Beast is about the Bigness of
+a Pig of six Weeks old. But it were endless to give an Account of all
+the divers wonderful and strange Things that Country affords, and which
+we took a great Delight to go in Search of; tho’ those Adventures are
+oftentimes fatal, and at least dangerous: But while we had _Cæsar_ in
+our Company on these Designs, we fear’d no Harm, nor suffer’d any.
+
+As soon as I came into the Country, the best House in it was presented
+me, call’d _St. John’s Hill_: It stood on a vast Rock of white Marble,
+at the Foot of which, the River ran a vast Depth down, and not to be
+descended on that Side; the little Waves still dashing and washing the
+Foot of this Rock, made the softest Murmurs and Purlings in the World;
+and the opposite Bank was adorn’d with such vast Quantities of different
+Flowers eternally blowing, and every Day and Hour new, fenc’d behind ’em
+with lofty Trees of a thousand rare Forms and Colours, that the Prospect
+was the most ravishing that Sands can create. On the Edge of this white
+Rock, towards the River, was a Walk, or Grove, of Orange and
+Lemon-Trees, about half the Length of the _Mall_ here, whose flowery and
+Fruit-bearing Branches met at the Top, and hinder’d the Sun, whose Rays
+are very fierce there, from entring a Beam into the Grove; and the cool
+Air that came from the River, made it not only fit to entertain People
+in, at all the hottest Hours of the Day, but refresh the sweet Blossoms,
+and made it always sweet and charming; and sure, the whole Globe of the
+World cannot shew so delightful a Place as this Grove was: Not all the
+Gardens of boasted _Italy_ can produce a Shade to out-vie this, which
+Nature had join’d with Art to render so exceeding fine; and ’tis a
+Marvel to see how such vast Trees, as big as _English_ Oaks, could take
+Footing on so solid a Rock, and in so little Earth as cover’d that Rock:
+But all Things by Nature there are rare, delightful, and wonderful. But
+to our Sports.
+
+Sometimes we would go surprising, and in Search of young _Tygers_ in
+their Dens, watching when the old ones went forth to forage for Prey;
+and oftentimes we have been in great Danger, and have fled apace for our
+Lives, when surpriz’d by the Dams. But once, above all other Times, we
+went on this Design, and _Cæsar_ was with us; who had no sooner stoln a
+young _Tyger_ from her Nest, but going off, we encounter’d the Dam,
+bearing a Buttock of a Cow, which she had torn off with her mighty Paw,
+and going with it towards her Den: We had only four Women, _Cæsar_, and
+an _English_ Gentleman, Brother to _Harry Martin_ the great _Oliverian_;
+we found there was no escaping this enraged and ravenous Beast. However,
+we Women fled as fast as we could from it; but our Heels had not saved
+our Lives, if _Cæsar_ had not laid down her _Cub_, when he found the
+_Tyger_ quit her Prey to make the more Speed towards him; and taking Mr.
+_Martin’s_ Sword, desired him to stand aside, or follow the Ladies. He
+obey’d him; and _Cæsar_ met this monstrous Beast of mighty Size, and
+vast Limbs, who came with open Jaws upon him; and fixing his aweful
+stern Eyes full upon those of the Beast, and putting himself into a very
+steady and good aiming Posture of Defence, ran his Sword quite through
+his Breast, down to his very Heart, home to the Hilt of the Sword: The
+dying Beast stretch’d forth her Paw, and going to grasp his Thigh,
+surpriz’d with Death in that very Moment, did him no other Harm than
+fixing her long Nails in his Flesh very deep, feebly wounded him, but
+could not grasp the Flesh to tear off any. When he had done this, he
+hallow’d to us to return; which, after some Assurance of his Victory, we
+did, and found him lugging out the Sword from the Bosom of the _Tyger_,
+who was laid in her Blood on the Ground. He took up the _Cub_, and with
+an Unconcern that had nothing of the Joy or Gladness of Victory, he came
+and laid the Whelp at my Feet. We all extremely wonder’d at his daring,
+and at the Bigness of the Beast, which was about the Height of an
+Heifer, but of mighty great and strong Limbs.
+
+Another time, being in the Woods, he kill’d a _Tyger_, that had long
+infested that Part, and borne away abundance of Sheep and Oxen, and
+other Things, that were for the Support of those to whom they belong’d.
+Abundance of People assail’d this Beast, some affirming they had shot
+her with several Bullets quite through the Body at several times; and
+some swearing they shot her through the very Heart; and they believed
+she was a Devil, rather than a mortal Thing. _Cæsar_ had often said, he
+had a Mind to encounter this Monster, and spoke with several Gentlemen
+who had attempted her; one crying, I shot her with so many poison’d
+Arrows, another with his Gun in this Part of her, and another in that;
+so that he remarking all the Places where she was shot, fancy’d still he
+should overcome her, by giving her another Sort of a Wound than any had
+yet done; and one Day said (at the Table), ‘What Trophies and Garlands,
+Ladies, will you make me, if I bring you home the Heart of this ravenous
+Beast, that eats up all your Lambs and Pigs?’ We all promis’d he should
+be rewarded at our Hands. So taking a Bow, which he chose out of a great
+many, he went up into the Wood, with two Gentlemen, where he imagin’d
+this Devourer to be. They had not pass’d very far into it, but they
+heard her Voice, growling and grumbling, as if she were pleas’d with
+something she was doing. When they came in View, they found her muzzling
+in the Belly of a new ravish’d Sheep, which she had torn open; and
+seeing herself approach’d, she took fast hold of her Prey with her fore
+Paws, and set a very fierce raging Look on _Cæsar_, without offering to
+approach him, for Fear at the same Time of loosing what she had in
+Possession: So that _Cæsar_ remain’d a good while, only taking Aim, and
+getting an Opportunity to shoot her where he design’d. ’Twas some Time
+before he could accomplish it; and to wound her, and not kill her, would
+but have enrag’d her the more, and endanger’d him. He had a Quiver of
+Arrows at his Side, so that if one fail’d, he could be supply’d: At
+last, retiring a little, he gave her Opportunity to eat, for he found
+she was ravenous, and fell to as soon as she saw him retire, being more
+eager of her Prey, than of doing new Mischiefs; when he going softly to
+one Side of her, and hiding his Person behind certain Herbage, that grew
+high and thick, he took so good Aim, that, as he intended, he shot her
+just into the Eye, and the Arrow was sent with so good a Will, and so
+sure a Hand, that it stuck in her Brain, and made her caper, and become
+mad for a Moment or two; but being seconded by another Arrow, she fell
+dead upon the Prey. _Cæsar_ cut her open with a Knife, to see where
+those Wounds were that had been reported to him, and why she did not die
+of ’em. But I shall now relate a Thing that, possibly, will find no
+Credit among Men; because ’tis a Notion commonly receiv’d with us, That
+nothing can receive a Wound in the Heart, and live: But when the Heart
+of this courageous Animal was taken out, there were seven Bullets of
+Lead in it, the Wound seam’d up with great Scars, and she liv’d with the
+Bullets a great While, for it was long since they were shot: This Heart
+the Conqueror brought up to us, and ’twas a very great Curiosity, which
+all the Country came to see; and which gave _Cæsar_ Occasion of many
+fine Discourses of Accidents in War, and strange Escapes.
+
+At other times he would go a Fishing; and discoursing on that Diversion,
+he found we had in that Country a very strange Fish, call’d a
+_Numb-Eel_, (an _Eel_ of which I have eaten) that while it is alive, it
+has a Quality so cold, that those who are angling, tho’ with a Line of
+ever so great a Length, with a Rod at the End of it, it shall in the
+same Minute the Bait is touch’d by this _Eel_, seize him or her that
+holds the Rod with a Numbness, that shall deprive ’em of Sense for a
+While; and some have fallen into the Water, and others drop’d, as dead,
+on the Banks of the Rivers where they stood, as soon as this Fish
+touches the Bait. _Cæsar_ us’d to laugh at this, and believ’d it
+impossible a Man could lose his Force at the Touch of a Fish; and could
+not understand that Philosophy, that a cold Quality should be of that
+Nature; however, he had a great Curiosity to try whether it would have
+the same Effect on him it had on others, and often try’d, but in vain.
+At last, the sought-for Fish came to the Bait, as he stood angling on
+the Bank; and instead of throwing away the Rod, or giving it a sudden
+Twitch out of the Water, whereby he might have caught both the _Eel_,
+and have dismiss’d the Rod, before it could have too much Power over
+him; for Experiment-sake, he grasp’d it but the harder, and fainting,
+fell into the River; and being still possess’d of the Rod, the Tide
+carry’d him, senseless as he was, a great Way, till an _Indian_ Boat
+took him up; and perceiv’d, when they touch’d him, a Numbness seize
+them, and by that knew the Rod was in his Hand; which with a Paddle,
+(that is a short Oar) they struck away, and snatch’d it into the Boat,
+_Eel_ and all. If _Cæsar_ was almost dead, with the Effect of this Fish,
+he was more so with that of the Water, where he had remain’d the Space
+of going a League, and they found they had much ado to bring him back to
+Life; but at last they did, and brought him home, where he was in a few
+Hours well recover’d and refresh’d, and not a little asham’d to find he
+should be overcome by an _Eel_, and that all the People, who heard his
+Defiance, would laugh at him. But we chear’d him up; and he being
+convinc’d, we had the _Eel_ at Supper, which was a quarter of an Ell
+about, and most delicate Meat; and was of the more Value, since it cost
+so dear as almost the Life of so gallant a Man.
+
+About this Time we were in many mortal Fears, about some Disputes the
+_English_ had with the _Indians_; so that we could scarce trust our
+selves, without great Numbers, to go to any _Indian_ Towns, or Place
+where they abode, for fear they should fall upon us, as they did
+immediately after my coming away; and the Place being in the Possession
+of the _Dutch_, they us’d them not so civilly as the _English_; so that
+they cut in Pieces all they could take, getting into Houses and hanging
+up the Mother, and all her Children about her; and cut a Footman, I left
+behind me, all in Joints, and nail’d him to Trees.
+
+This Feud began while I was there; so that I lost half the Satisfaction
+I propos’d, in not seeing and visiting the _Indian_ Towns. But one Day,
+bemoaning of our Misfortunes upon this Account, _Cæsar_ told us, we need
+not fear, for if we had a Mind to go, he would undertake to be our
+Guard. Some would, but most would not venture: About eighteen of us
+resolv’d, and took Barge; and after eight Days, arriv’d near an _Indian_
+Town: But approaching it, the Hearts of some of our Company fail’d, and
+they would not venture on Shore; so we poll’d, who would, and who would
+not. For my Part, I said, if _Cæsar_ would, I would go. He resolv’d; so
+did my Brother, and my Woman, a Maid of good Courage. Now none of us
+speaking the Language of the People, and imagining we should have a half
+Diversion in gazing only; and not knowing what they said, we took a
+Fisherman that liv’d at the Mouth of the River, who had been a long
+Inhabitant there, and oblig’d him to go with us: But because he was
+known to the _Indians_, as trading among ’em, and being, by long living
+there, become a perfect _Indian_ in Colour, we, who had a Mind to
+surprize ’em, by making them see something they never had seen, (that
+is, _White_ People) resolv’d only my self, my Brother and Woman should
+go: So _Cæsar_, the Fisherman, and the rest, hiding behind some thick
+Reeds and Flowers that grew in the Banks, let us pass on towards the
+Town, which was on the Bank of the River all along. A little distant
+from the Houses, or Huts, we saw some dancing, others busy’d in fetching
+and carrying of Water from the River. They had no sooner spy’d us, but
+they set up a loud Cry, that frighted us at first; we thought it had
+been for those that should kill us, but it seems it was of Wonder and
+Amazement. They were all naked; and we were dress’d, so as is most
+commode for the hot Countries, very glittering and rich; so that we
+appear’d extremely fine; my own Hair was cut short, and I had a Taffety
+Cap, with black Feathers on my Head; my Brother was in a Stuff-Suit,
+with Silver Loops and Buttons, and abundance of green Ribbon. This was
+all infinitely surprising to them; and because we saw them stand still
+till we approach’d ’em, we took Heart and advanc’d, came up to ’em, and
+offer’d ’em our Hands; which they took, and look’d on us round about,
+calling still for more Company; who came swarming out, all wondering,
+and crying out _Tepeeme_; taking their Hair up in their Hands, and
+spreading it wide to those they call’d out to; as if they would say
+(as indeed it signify’d) _Numberless Wonders_, or not to be recounted,
+no more than to number the Hair of their Heads. By Degrees they grew
+more bold, and from gazing upon us round, they touch’d us, laying their
+Hands upon all the Features of our Faces, feeling our Breasts, and Arms,
+taking up one Petticoat, then wondering to see another; admiring our
+Shoes and Stockings, but more our Garters, which we gave ’em, and they
+ty’d about their Legs, being lac’d with Silver Lace at the Ends; for
+they much esteem any shining Things. In fine, we suffer’d ’em to survey
+us as they pleas’d, and we thought they would never have done admiring
+us. When _Cæsar_, and the rest, saw we were receiv’d with such Wonder,
+they came up to us; and finding the _Indian_ Trader whom they knew, (for
+’tis by these Fishermen, call’d _Indian_ Traders, we hold a Commerce
+with ’em; for they love not to go far from home, and we never go to
+them) when they saw him therefore, they set up a new Joy, and cry’d in
+their Language, _Oh, here’s our +Tiguamy+, and we shall know whether
+those Things can speak._ So advancing to him, some of ’em gave him their
+Hands, and cry’d, _Amora Tiguamy_; which is as much as, _How do you do?_
+or, _Welcome Friend_; and all, with one din, began to gabble to him, and
+ask’d, if we had Sense and Wit? If we could talk of Affairs of Life and
+War, as they could do? If we could hunt, swim, and do a thousand Things
+they use? He answer’d ’em, We could. Then they invited us into their
+Houses, and dress’d Venison and Buffalo for us; and going out, gather’d
+a Leaf of a Tree, called a _Sarumbo_ Leaf, of six Yards long, and spread
+it on the Ground for a Table-Cloth; and cutting another in Pieces,
+instead of Plates, set us on little low _Indian_ Stools, which they cut
+out of one entire Piece of Wood, and paint in a sort of Japan-Work. They
+serve every one their Mess on these Pieces of Leaves; and it was very
+good, but too high-season’d with Pepper. When we had eat, my Brother and
+I took out our Flutes, and play’d to ’em, which gave ’em new Wonder; and
+I soon perceiv’d, by an Admiration that is natural to these People, and
+by the extreme Ignorance and Simplicity of ’em, it were not difficult to
+establish any unknown or extravagant Religion among them, and to impose
+any Notions or Fictions upon ’em. For seeing a Kinsman of mine set some
+Paper on Fire with a Burning-Glass, a Trick they had never before seen,
+they were like to have ador’d him for a God, and begg’d he would give
+’em the Characters or Figures of his Name, that they might oppose it
+against Winds and Storms: which he did, and they held it up in those
+Seasons, and fancy’d it had a Charm to conquer them, and kept it like a
+holy Relique. They are very superstitious, and call’d him the Great
+_Peeie_, that is, _Prophet_. They shewed us their _Indian Peeie_, a
+Youth of about sixteen Years old, as handsome as Nature could make a
+Man. They consecrate a beautiful Youth from his Infancy, and all Arts
+are used to compleat him in the finest Manner, both in Beauty and Shape:
+He is bred to all the little Arts and Cunning they are capable of; to
+all the legerdemain Tricks, and Slight of Hand, whereby he imposes on
+the Rabble; and is both a Doctor in Physick and Divinity: And by these
+Tricks makes the Sick believe he sometimes eases their Pains, by drawing
+from the afflicted Part little Serpents, or odd Flies, or Worms, or any
+strange Thing; and though they have besides undoubted good Remedies for
+almost all their Diseases, they cure the Patient more by Fancy than by
+Medicines, and make themselves feared, loved, and reverenced. This young
+_Peeie_ had a very young Wife, who seeing my Brother kiss her, came
+running and kiss’d me. After this they kiss’d one another, and made it a
+very great Jest, it being so novel; and new Admiration and Laughing went
+round the Multitude, that they never will forget that Ceremony, never
+before us’d or known. _Cæsar_ had a Mind to see and talk with their
+War-Captains, and we were conducted to one of their Houses, where we
+beheld several of the great Captains, who had been at Council: But so
+frightful a Vision it was to see ’em, no Fancy can create; no sad Dreams
+can represent so dreadful a Spectacle. For my Part, I took ’em for
+Hobgoblins, or Fiends, rather than Men; But however their Shapes
+appear’d, their Souls were very humane and noble; but some wanted their
+Noses, some their Lips, some both Noses and Lips, some their Ears, and
+others cut through each Cheek, with long Slashes, through which their
+Teeth appear’d: They had several other formidable Wounds and Scars, or
+rather Dismembrings. They had _Comitias_, or little Aprons before them;
+and Girdles of Cotton, with their Knives naked stuck in it; a Bow at
+their Back, and a Quiver of Arrows on their Thighs; and most had
+Feathers on their Heads of divers Colours. They cry’d _Amora Tiguamy_ to
+us, at our Entrance, and were pleas’d we said as much to them: They
+seated us, and gave us Drink of the best Sort, and wonder’d as much as
+the others had done before to see us. _Cæsar_ was marvelling as much at
+their Faces, wondring how they should be all so wounded in War; he was
+impatient to know how they all came by those frightful Marks of Rage or
+Malice, rather than Wounds got in noble Battle: They told us by our
+Interpreter, That when any War was waging, two Men, chosen out by some
+old Captain whose fighting was past, and who could only teach the Theory
+of War, were to stand in Competition for the Generalship, or great
+War-Captain; and being brought before the old Judges, now past Labour,
+they are ask’d, What they dare do, to shew they are worthy to lead an
+Army? When he who is first ask’d, making no Reply, cuts off his Nose,
+and throws it contemptibly on the Ground; and the other does something
+to himself that he thinks surpasses him, and perhaps deprives himself of
+Lips and an Eye: So they slash on ’till one gives out, and many have
+dy’d in this Debate. And it’s by a passive Valour they shew and prove
+their Activity; a sort of Courage too brutal to be applauded by our
+_Black_ Hero; nevertheless, he express’d his Esteem of ’em.
+
+In this Voyage _Cæsar_ begat so good an Understanding between the
+_Indians_ and the _English_, that there were no more Fears or
+Heart-burnings during our Stay, but we had a perfect, open, and free
+Trade with ’em. Many Things remarkable, and worthy reciting, we met with
+in this short Voyage; because _Cæsar_ made it his Business to search out
+and provide for our Entertainment, especially to please his dearly
+ador’d _Imoinda_, who was a Sharer in all our Adventures; we being
+resolv’d to make her Chains as easy as we could, and to compliment the
+Prince in that Manner that most oblig’d him.
+
+As we were coming up again, we met with some _Indians_ of strange
+Aspects; that is, of a larger Size, and other sort of Features, than
+those of our Country. Our _Indian Slaves_, that row’d us, ask’d ’em some
+Questions; but they could not understand us, but shew’d us a long Cotton
+String, with several Knots on it, and told us, they had been coming from
+the Mountains so many Moons as there were Knots: they were habited in
+Skins of a strange Beast, and brought along with ’em Bags of Gold-Dust;
+which, as well as they could give as to understand, came streaming in
+little small Channels down the high Mountains, when the Rains fell; and
+offer’d to be the Convoy to any Body, or Persons, that would go to the
+Mountains. We carry’d these Men up to _Parham_, where they were kept
+till the Lord-Governor came: And because all the Country was mad to be
+going on this Golden Adventure, the Governor, by his Letters, commanded
+(for they sent some of the Gold to him) that a Guard should be set at
+the Mouth of the River of _Amazons_ (a River so call’d, almost as broad
+as the River of _Thames_) and prohibited all People from going up that
+River, it conducting to those Mountains or Gold. But we going off for
+_England_ before the Project was further prosecuted, and the Governor
+being drown’d in a Hurricane, either the Design died, or the _Dutch_
+have the Advantage of it: And ’tis to be bemoan’d what his Majesty lost,
+by losing that Part of _America_.
+
+Though this Digression is a little from my Story, however, since it
+contains some Proofs of the Curiosity and Daring of this great Man,
+I was content to omit nothing of his Character.
+
+It was thus for some Time we diverted him; but now _Imoinda_ began to
+shew she was with Child, and did nothing but sigh and weep for the
+Captivity of her Lord, herself, and the Infant yet unborn; and believ’d,
+if it were so hard to gain the Liberty of two, ’twould be more difficult
+to get that for three. Her Griefs were so many Darts in the great Heart
+of _Cæsar_, and taking his Opportunity, one _Sunday_, when all the
+_Whites_ were overtaken in Drink, as there were abundance of several
+Trades, and _Slaves_ for four Years, that inhabited among the _Negro_
+Houses; and _Sunday_ being their Day of Debauch, (otherwise they were a
+sort of Spies upon _Cæsar_) he went, pretending out of Goodness to ’em,
+to feast among ’em, and sent all his Musick, and order’d a great Treat
+for the whole Gang, about three hundred _Negroes_, and about an hundred
+and fifty were able to bear Arms, such as they had, which were
+sufficient to do Execution, with Spirits accordingly: For the _English_
+had none but rusty Swords, that no Strength could draw from a Scabbard;
+except the People of particular Quality, who took Care to oil ’em, and
+keep ’em in good Order: The Guns also, unless here and there one, or
+those newly carried from _England_, would do no Good or Harm; for ’tis
+the Nature of that Country to rust and eat up Iron, or any Metals but
+Gold and Silver. And they are very expert at the Bow, which the
+_Negroes_ and _Indians_ are perfect Masters of.
+
+_Cæsar_, having singled out these Men from the Women and Children, made
+an Harangue to ’em, of the Miseries and Ignominies of Slavery; counting
+up all their Toils and Sufferings, under such Loads, Burdens and
+Drudgeries, as were fitter for Beasts than Men; senseless Brutes, than
+human Souls. He told ’em, it was not for Days, Months or Years, but for
+Eternity; there was no End to be of their Misfortunes: They suffer’d not
+like Men, who might find a Glory and Fortitude in Oppression; but like
+Dogs, that lov’d the Whip and Bell, and fawn’d the more they were
+beaten: That they had lost the divine Quality of Men, and were become
+insensible Asses, fit only to bear: Nay, worse; an Ass, or Dog, or
+Horse, having done his Duty, could lie down in Retreat, and rise to work
+again, and while he did his Duty, endur’d no Stripes; but Men,
+villanous, senseless Men, such as they, toil’d on all the tedious Week
+’till _Black Friday_; and then, whether they work’d or not, whether they
+were faulty or meriting, they, promiscuously, the Innocent with the
+Guilty, suffer’d the infamous Whip, the sordid Stripes, from their
+Fellow-Slaves, ’till their Blood trickled from all Parts of their Body;
+Blood, whose every Drop ought to be revenged with a Life of some of
+those Tyrants that impose it. ‘And why (_said he_) my dear Friends and
+Fellow-sufferers, should we be Slaves to an unknown People? Have they
+vanquished us nobly in Fight? Have they won us in Honourable Battle? And
+are we by the Chance of War become their Slaves? This would not anger a
+noble Heart; this would not animate a Soldier’s Soul: No, but we are
+bought and sold like Apes or Monkeys, to be the Sport of Women, Fools
+and Cowards; and the Support of Rogues and Runagades, that have
+abandoned their own Countries for Rapine, Murders, Theft and Villanies.
+Do you not hear every Day how they upbraid each other with Infamy of
+Life, below the wildest Salvages? And shall we render Obedience to such
+a degenerate Race, who have no one human Virtue left, to distinguish
+them from the vilest Creatures? Will you, I say, suffer the Lash from
+such Hands?’ _They all reply’d with one Accord_, ‘No, No, No; _Cæsar_
+has spoke like a great Captain, like a great King.’
+
+After this he would have proceeded, but was interrupted by a tall
+_Negro_, of some more Quality than the rest, his Name was _Tuscan_; who
+bowing at the Feet of _Cæsar_, cry’d, ‘My Lord, we have listen’d with
+Joy and Attention to what you have said; and, were we only Men, would
+follow so great a Leader through the World: But O! consider we are
+Husbands and Parents too, and have Things more dear to us than Life; our
+Wives and Children, unfit for Travel in those unpassable Woods,
+Mountains and Bogs. We have not only difficult Lands to overcome, but
+Rivers to wade, and Mountains to encounter; ravenous Beasts of
+Prey,’--_To this +Cæsar+ reply’d_, ‘That Honour was the first Principle
+in Nature, that was to be obey’d; but as no Man would pretend to that,
+without all the Acts of Virtue, Compassion, Charity, Love, Justice and
+Reason, he found it not inconsistent with that, to take equal Care of
+their Wives and Children as they would of themselves; and that he did
+not design, when he led them to Freedom, and glorious Liberty, that they
+should leave that better Part of themselves to perish by the Hand of the
+Tyrant’s Whip: But if there were a Woman among them so degenerate from
+Love and Virtue, to chuse Slavery before the Pursuit of her Husband, and
+with the Hazard of her Life, to share with him in his Fortunes; that
+such a one ought to be abandoned, and left as a Prey to the common
+Enemy.’
+
+To which they all agreed--and bowed. After this, he spoke of the
+impassable Woods and Rivers; and convinced them, the more Danger the
+more Glory. He told them, that he had heard of one _Hannibal_, a great
+Captain, had cut his Way through Mountains of solid Rocks; and should a
+few Shrubs oppose them, which they could fire before ’em? No, ’twas a
+trifling Excuse to Men resolved to die, or overcome. As for Bogs, they
+are with a little Labour filled and harden’d; and the Rivers could be no
+Obstacle, since they swam by Nature, at least by Custom, from the first
+Hour of their Birth: That when the Children were weary, they must carry
+them by Turns, and the Woods and their own Industry would afford them
+Food. To this they all assented with Joy.
+
+_Tuscan_ then demanded, what he would do: He said he would travel
+towards the Sea, plant a new Colony, and defend it by their Valour; and
+when they could find a Ship, either driven by Stress of Weather, or
+guided by Providence that Way, they would seize it, and make it a Prize,
+till it had transported them to their own Countries: at least they
+should be made free in his Kingdom, and be esteem’d as his
+Fellow-Sufferers, and Men that had the Courage and the Bravery to
+attempt, at least, for Liberty; and if they died in the Attempt, it
+would be more brave, than to live in perpetual Slavery.
+
+They bow’d and kiss’d his Feet at this Resolution, and with one Accord
+vow’d to follow him to Death; and that Night was appointed to begin
+their March. They made it known to their Wives, and directed them to tie
+their Hamocks about their Shoulders, and under their Arms, like a Scarf
+and to lead their Children that could go, and carry those that could
+not. The Wives, who pay an entire Obedience to their Husbands, obey’d,
+and stay’d for ’em where they were appointed: The Men stay’d but to
+furnish themselves with what defensive Arms they could get; and all met
+at the Rendezvouz, where _Cæsar_ made a new encouraging Speech to ’em
+and led ’em out.
+
+But as they could not march far that Night, on _Monday_ early, when the
+Overseers went to call ’em all together, to go to work, they were
+extremely surprized, to find not one upon the Place, but all fled with
+what Baggage they had. You may imagine this News was not only suddenly
+spread all over the Plantation, but soon reached the neighbouring ones;
+and we had by Noon about 600 Men, they call the Militia of the Country,
+that came to assist us in the Pursuit of the Fugitives: But never did
+one see so comical an Army march forth to War. The Men of any Fashion
+would not concern themselves, tho’ it were almost the Common Cause; for
+such Revoltings are very ill Examples, and have very fatal Consequences
+oftentimes, in many Colonies: But they had a Respect for _Cæsar_, and
+all Hands were against the _Parhamites_ (as they called those of
+_Parham-Plantation_) because they did not in the first Place love the
+Lord-Governor; and secondly, they would have it that _Cæsar_ was ill
+used, and baffled with: and ’tis not impossible but some of the best in
+the Country was of his Council in this Flight, and depriving us of all
+the Slaves; so that they of the better sort would not meddle in the
+Matter. The Deputy-Governor, of whom I have had no great Occasion to
+speak, and who was the most fawning fair-tongu’d Fellow in the World,
+and one that pretended the most Friendship to _Cæsar_, was now the only
+violent Man against him; and though he had nothing, and so need fear
+nothing, yet talked and looked bigger than any Man. He was a Fellow,
+whose Character is not fit to be mentioned with the worst of the Slaves:
+This Fellow would lead his Army forth to meet _Cæsar_, or rather to
+pursue him. Most of their Arms were of those Sort of cruel Whips they
+call _Cat with nine Tails_; some had rusty useless Guns for Shew; others
+old Basket Hilts, whose Blades had never seen the Light in this Age; and
+others had long Staffs and Clubs. Mr. _Trefry_ went along, rather to be
+a Mediator than a Conqueror in such a Battle; for he foresaw and knew,
+if by fighting they put the _Negroes_ into Despair, they were a sort of
+sullen Fellows, that would drown or kill themselves before they would
+yield; and he advis’d that fair Means was best: But _Byam_ was one that
+abounded in his own Wit, and would take his own Measures.
+
+It was not hard to find these Fugitives; for as they fled, they were
+forced to fire and cut the Woods before ’em: So that Night or Day they
+pursu’d ’em by the Light they made, and by the Path they had cleared.
+But as soon as _Cæsar_ found that he was pursu’d, he put himself in a
+Posture of Defence, placing all the Woman and Children in the Rear; and
+himself, with _Tuscan_ by his Side, or next to him, all promising to die
+or conquer. Encouraged thus, they never stood to parley, but fell on
+pell-mell upon the _English_, and killed some, and wounded a great many;
+they having Recourse to their Whips, as the best of their Weapons. And
+as they observed no Order, they perplexed the Enemy so sorely, with
+lashing ’em in the Eyes; and the Women and Children seeing their
+Husbands so treated, being of fearful and cowardly Dispositions, and
+hearing the _English_ cry out, _Yield and Live! Yield, and be Pardon’d!_
+they all ran in amongst their Husbands and Fathers, and hung about them,
+crying out, _Yield! Yield, and leave +Cæsar+ to their Revenge_; that by
+Degrees the Slaves abandon’d _Cæsar_, and left him only _Tuscan_ and his
+Heroick _Imoinda_, who grown as big as she was, did nevertheless press
+near her Lord, having a Bow and a Quiver full of poisoned Arrows, which
+she managed with such Dexterity, that she wounded several, and shot the
+Governor into the Shoulder; of which Wound he had like to have died, but
+that an _Indian_ Woman, his Mistress, sucked the Wound, and cleans’d it
+from the Venom: But however, he stir’d not from the Place till he had
+parly’d with _Cæsar_, who he found was resolved to die fighting, and
+would not be taken; no more would _Tuscan_ or _Imoinda_. But he, more
+thirsting after Revenge of another Sort, than that of depriving him of
+Life, now made use of all his Art of Talking and Dissembling, and
+besought _Cæsar_ to yield himself upon Terms which he himself should
+propose, and should be sacredly assented to, and kept by him. He told
+him, It was not that he any longer fear’d him, or could believe the
+Force of two Men, and a young Heroine, could overthrow all them, and
+with all the Slaves now on their Side also; but it was the vast Esteem
+he had for his Person, the Desire he had to serve so gallant a Man, and
+to hinder himself from the Reproach hereafter, of having been the
+Occasion of the Death of a Prince, whose Valour and Magnanimity deserved
+the Empire of the World. He protested to him, he looked upon his Action
+as gallant and brave, however tending to the Prejudice of his Lord and
+Master, who would by it have lost so considerable a Number of Slaves;
+that this Flight of his should be look’d on as a Heat of Youth, and a
+Rashness of a too forward Courage, and an unconsider’d Impatience of
+Liberty, and no more; and that he labour’d in vain to accomplish that
+which they would effectually perform as soon as any Ship arrived that
+would touch on his Coast: ‘So that if you will be pleased
+(_continued he_) to surrender yourself, all imaginable Respect shall be
+paid you; and your Self, your Wife and Child, if it be born here, shall
+depart free out of our Land.’ But _Cæsar_ would hear of no Composition;
+though _Byam_ urged, if he pursued and went on in his Design, he would
+inevitably perish, either by great Snakes, wild Beasts or Hunger; and he
+ought to have Regard to his Wife, whose Condition requir’d Ease, and not
+the Fatigues of tedious Travel, where she could not be secured from
+being devoured. But _Cæsar_ told him, there was no Faith in the White
+men, or the Gods they ador’d; who instructed them in Principles so
+false, that honest Men could not live amongst them; though no People
+profess’d so much, none perform’d so little: That he knew what he had to
+do when he dealt with Men of Honour; but with them a Man ought to be
+eternally on his Guard, and never to eat and drink with Christians,
+without his Weapon of Defence in his Hand; and, for his own Security,
+never to credit one Word they spoke. As for the Rashness and
+Inconsiderateness of his Action, he would confess the Governor is in the
+right; and that he was ashamed of what he had done in endeavouring to
+make those free, who were by Nature Slaves, poor wretched Rogues, fit to
+be used as Christian Tools; Dogs, treacherous and cowardly, fit for such
+Masters; and they wanted only but to be whipped into the Knowledge of
+the Christian Gods, to be the vilest of all creeping Things; to learn to
+worship such Deities as had not Power to make them just, brave, or
+honest: In fine, after a thousand Things of this Nature, not fit here to
+be recited, he told _Byam_, He had rather die, than live upon the same
+Earth with such Dogs. But _Trefry_ and _Byam_ pleaded and protested
+together so much, that _Trefry_ believing the Governor to mean what he
+said, and speaking very cordially himself, generously put himself into
+_Cæsar’s_ Hands, and took him aside, and persuaded him, even with Tears,
+to live, by surrendring himself, and to name his Conditions. _Cæsar_ was
+overcome by his Wit and Reasons, and in Consideration of _Imoinda_; and
+demanding what he desired, and that it should be ratify’d by their Hands
+in Writing, because he had perceived that was the common Way of Contract
+between Man and Man amongst the Whites; all this was performed, and
+_Tuscan’s_ Pardon was put in, and they surrender’d to the Governor, who
+walked peaceably down into the Plantation with them, after giving Order
+to bury their Dead. _Cæsar_ was very much toil’d with the Bustle of the
+Day, for he had fought like a Fury; and what Mischief was done, he and
+_Tuscan_ performed alone; and gave their Enemies a fatal Proof, that
+they durst do any Thing, and fear’d no mortal Force.
+
+But they were no sooner arrived at the Place where all the Slaves
+receive their Punishments of Whipping, but they laid Hands on _Cæsar_
+and _Tuscan_, faint with Heat and Toil; and surprizing them, bound them
+to two several Stakes, and whipped them in a most deplorable and inhuman
+Manner, rending the very Flesh from their Bones, especially _Cæsar_, who
+was not perceived to make any Moan, or to alter his Face, only to roll
+his Eyes on the faithless Governor, and those he believed Guilty, with
+Fierceness and Indignation; and to complete his Rage, he saw every one
+of those Slaves who but a few Days before ador’d him as something more
+than Mortal, now had a Whip to give him some Lashes, while he strove not
+to break his Fetters; tho’ if he had, it were impossible: but he
+pronounced a Woe and Revenge from his Eyes, that darted Fire, which was
+at once both aweful and terrible to behold.
+
+When they thought they were sufficiently revenged on him, they unty’d
+him, almost fainting with Loss of Blood, from a thousand Wounds all over
+his Body; from which they had rent his Clothes, and led him bleeding and
+naked as he was, and loaded him all over with Irons; and then rubb’d his
+Wounds, to complete their Cruelty, with _Indian_ Pepper, which had like
+to have made him raving mad; and, in this Condition made him so fast to
+the Ground, that he could not stir, if his Pains and Wounds would have
+given him Leave. They spared _Imoinda_, and did not let her see this
+Barbarity committed towards her Lord, but carried her down to _Parham_,
+and shut her up; which was not in Kindness to her, but for Fear she
+should die with the Sight, or miscarry, and then they should lose a
+young Slave, and perhaps the Mother.
+
+You must know, that when the News was brought on _Monday_ Morning, that
+_Cæsar_ had betaken himself to the Woods, and carry’d with him all the
+_Negroes_, we were possess’d with extreme Fear, which no Persuasions
+could dissipate, that he would secure himself till Night, and then would
+come down and cut all our Throats. This Apprehension made all the
+Females of us fly down the River, to be secured; and while we were away,
+they acted this Cruelty; for I suppose I had Authority and Interest
+enough there, had I suspected any such Thing, to have prevented it: but
+we had not gone many Leagues, but the News overtook us, that _Cæsar_ was
+taken and whipped liked a common Slave. We met on the River with Colonel
+_Martin_, a Man of great Gallantry, Wit, and Goodness, and whom I have
+celebrated in a Character of my new Comedy, by his own Name, in Memory
+of so brave a Man: He was wise and eloquent, and, from the Fineness of
+his Parts, bore a great Sway over the Hearts of all the Colony: He was a
+Friend to _Cæsar_, and resented this false Dealing with him very much.
+We carried him back to _Parham_, thinking to have made an Accommodation;
+when he came, the first News we heard, was, That the Governor was dead
+of a Wound _Imoinda_ had given him; but it was not so well. But it
+seems, he would have the Pleasure of beholding the Revenge he took on
+_Cæsar_; and before the cruel Ceremony was finished, he dropt down; and
+then they perceived the Wound he had on his Shoulder was by a venom’d
+Arrow, which, as I said, his _Indian_ Mistress healed by sucking the
+Wound.
+
+We were no sooner arrived, but we went up to the Plantation to see
+_Cæsar_; whom we found in a very miserable and unexpressible Condition;
+and I have a thousand Times admired how he lived in so much tormenting
+Pain. We said all Things to him, that Trouble, Pity and Good-Nature
+could suggest, protesting our Innocency of the Fact, and our Abhorrence
+of such Cruelties; making a thousand Professions and Services to him,
+and begging as many Pardons for the Offenders, till we said so much,
+that he believed we had no Hand in his ill Treatment; but told us, He
+could never pardon _Byam_; as for _Trefry_, he confess’d he saw his
+Grief and Sorrow for his Suffering, which he could not hinder, but was
+like to have been beaten down by the very Slaves, for speaking in his
+Defence: But for _Byam_, who was their Leader, their Head--and should,
+by his Justice and Honour, have been an Example to ’em--for him, he
+wished to live to take a dire Revenge of him; and said, _It had been
+well for him, if he had sacrificed me, instead of giving me the
+comtemptible Whip._ He refused to talk much; but begging us to give him
+our Hands, he took them, and protested never to lift up his to do us any
+Harm. He had a great Respect for Colonel _Martin_, and always took his
+Counsel like that of a Parent; and assured him, he would obey him in any
+Thing but his Revenge on _Byam_: ‘Therefore (_said he_) for his own
+Safety, let him speedly dispatch me; for if I could dispatch myself,
+I would not, till that Justice were done to my injured Person, and the
+Contempt of a Soldier: No, I would not kill myself, even after a
+Whipping, but will be content to live with that Infamy, and be pointed
+at by every grinning Slave, till I have completed my Revenge; and then
+you shall see, that _Oroonoko_ scorns to live with the Indignity that
+was put on _Cæsar_.’ All we could do, could get no more Words from him;
+and we took Care to have him put immediately into a healing Bath, to rid
+him of his Pepper, and ordered a Chirurgeon to anoint him with healing
+Balm, which he suffer’d, and in some Time he began to be able to walk
+and eat. We failed not to visit him every Day, and to that End had him
+brought to an Apartment at _Parham_.
+
+The Governor had no sooner recover’d, and had heard of the Menaces of
+_Cæsar_, but he called his Council, who (not to disgrace them, or
+burlesque the Government there) consisted of such notorious Villains as
+_Newgate_ never transported; and, possibly, originally were such who
+understood neither the Laws of God or Man, and had no sort of Principles
+to make them worthy the Name of Men; but at the very Council-Table would
+contradict and fight with one another, and swear so bloodily, that ’twas
+terrible to hear and see ’em. (Some of ’em were afterwards hanged, when
+the _Dutch_ took Possession of the Place, others sent off in Chains.)
+But calling these special Rulers of the Nation together, and requiring
+their Counsel in this weighty Affair, they all concluded, that (damn
+’em) it might be their own Cases; and that _Cæsar_ ought to be made an
+Example to all the _Negroes_, to fright ’em from daring to threaten
+their Betters, their Lords and Masters; and at this Rate no Man was safe
+from his own Slaves; and concluded, _nemine contradicente_, That _Cæsar_
+should be hanged.
+
+_Trefry_ then thought it Time to use his Authority, and told _Byam_, his
+Command did not extend to his Lord’s Plantation; and that _Parham_ was
+as much exempt from the Law as _White-Hall_; and that they ought no more
+to touch the Servants of the Lord--(who there represented the King’s
+Person) than they could those about the King himself; and that _Parham_
+was a Sanctuary; and tho’ his Lord were absent in Person, his Power was
+still in being there, which he had entrusted with him, as far as the
+Dominions of his particular Plantations reached, and all that belonged
+to it; the rest of the Country, as _Byam_ was Lieutenant to his Lord, he
+might exercise his Tyranny upon. _Trefry_ had others as powerful, or
+more, that interested themselves in _Cæsar’s_ Life, and absolutely said,
+he should be defended. So turning the Governor, and his wise Council,
+out of Doors, (for they sat at _Parham-House_) we set a Guard upon our
+Lodging-Place, and would admit none but those we called Friends to us
+and _Cæsar_.
+
+The Governor having remain’d wounded at _Parham_, till his Recovery was
+completed, _Cæsar_ did not know but he was still there, and indeed for
+the most Part, his Time was spent there: for he was one that loved to
+live at other Peoples Expence, and if he were a Day absent, he was ten
+present there; and us’d to play, and walk, and hunt, and fish with
+_Cæsar_: So that _Cæsar_ did not at all doubt, if he once recover’d
+Strength, but he should find an Opportunity of being revenged on him;
+though, after such a Revenge, he could not hope to live: for if he
+escaped the Fury of the _English_ Mobile, who perhaps would have been
+glad of the Occasion to have killed him, he was resolved not to survive
+his Whipping; yet he had some tender Hours, a repenting Softness, which
+he called his Fits of Cowardice, wherein he struggled with Love for the
+Victory of his Heart, which took Part with his charming _Imoinda_ there;
+but for the most Part, his Time was pass’d in melancholy Thoughts, and
+black Designs. He consider’d, if he should do this Deed, and die either
+in the Attempt, or after it, he left his lovely _Imoinda_ a Prey, or at
+best a Slave to the enraged Multitude; his great Heart could not endure
+that Thought: _Perhaps_ (said he) _she may be first ravish’d by every
+Brute; expos’d first to their nasty Lusts, and then a shameful Death_:
+No, he could not live a Moment under that Apprehension, too
+insupportable to be borne. These were his Thoughts, and his silent
+Arguments with his Heart, as he told us afterwards: So that now
+resolving not only to kill _Byam_, but all those he thought had enraged
+him; pleasing his great Heart with the fancy’d Slaughter he should make
+over the whole Face of the Plantation; he first resolved on a Deed,
+(that however horrid it first appear’d to us all) when we had heard his
+Reasons, we thought it brave and just. Being able to walk, and, as he
+believed, fit for the Execution of his great Design, he begg’d _Trefry_
+to trust him into the Air, believing a Walk would do him good; which was
+granted him; and taking _Imoinda_ with him, as he used to do in his more
+happy and calmer Days, he led her up into a Wood, where (after with a
+thousand Sighs, and long gazing silently on her Face, while Tears
+gush’d, in spite of him, from his Eyes) he told her his Design, first of
+killing her, and then his Enemies, and next himself, and the
+Impossibility of escaping, and therefore he told her the Necessity of
+dying. He found the heroick Wife faster pleading for Death, than he was
+to propose it, when she found his fix’d Resolution; and, on her Knees,
+besought him not to leave her a Prey to his Enemies. He (grieved to
+Death) yet pleased at her noble Resolution, took her up, and embracing
+of her with all the Passion and Languishment of a dying Lover, drew his
+Knife to kill this Treasure of his Soul, this Pleasure of his Eyes;
+while Tears trickled down his Cheeks, hers were smiling with Joy she
+should die by so noble a Hand, and be sent into her own Country (for
+that’s their Notion of the next World) by him she so tenderly loved, and
+so truly ador’d in this: For Wives have a Respect for their Husbands
+equal to what any other People pay a Deity; and when a Man finds any
+Occasion to quit his Wife, if he love her, she dies by his Hand; if not,
+he sells her, or suffers some other to kill her. It being thus, you may
+believe the Deed was soon resolv’d on; and ’tis not to be doubted, but
+the parting, the eternal Leave-taking of two such Lovers, so greatly
+born, so sensible, so beautiful, so young, and so fond, must be very
+moving, as the Relation of it was to me afterwards.
+
+All that Love could say in such Cases, being ended, and all the
+intermitting Irresolutions being adjusted, the lovely, young and ador’d
+Victim lays herself down before the Sacrificer; while he, with a Hand
+resolved, and a Heart-breaking within, gave the fatal Stroke, first
+cutting her Throat, and then severing her yet smiling Face from that
+delicate Body, pregnant as it was with the Fruits of tenderest Love. As
+soon as he had done, he laid the Body decently on Leaves and Flowers, of
+which he made a Bed, and conceal’d it under the same Cover-lid of
+Nature; only her Face he left yet bare to look on: But when he found she
+was dead, and past all Retrieve, never more to bless him with her Eyes,
+and soft Language, his Grief swell’d up to Rage; he tore, he rav’d, he
+roar’d like some Monster of the Wood, calling on the lov’d Name of
+_Imoinda_. A thousand Times he turned the fatal Knife that did the Deed
+towards his own Heart, with a Resolution to go immediately after her;
+but dire Revenge, which was now a thousand Times more fierce in his Soul
+than before, prevents him; and he would cry out, ‘No, since I have
+sacrific’d _Imoinda_ to my Revenge, shall I lose that Glory which I have
+purchased so dear, as at the Price of the fairest, dearest, softest
+Creature that ever Nature made? No, no!’ Then at her Name Grief would
+get the Ascendant of Rage, and he would lie down by her Side, and water
+her Face with Showers of Tears, which never were wont to fall from those
+Eyes; and however bent he was on his intended Slaughter, he had not
+Power to stir from the Sight of this dear Object, now more beloved, and
+more ador’d than ever.
+
+He remained in this deplorable Condition for two Days, and never rose
+from the Ground where he had made her sad Sacrifice; at last rouzing
+from her Side, and accusing himself with living too long, now _Imoinda_
+was dead, and that the Deaths of those barbarous Enemies were deferred
+too long, he resolved now to finish the great Work: but offering to
+rise, he found his Strength so decay’d, that he reeled to and fro, like
+Boughs assailed by contrary Winds; so that he was forced to lie down
+again, and try to summon all his Courage to his Aid. He found his Brains
+turned round, and his Eyes were dizzy, and Objects appear’d not the same
+to him they were wont to do; his Breath was short, and all his Limbs
+surpriz’d with a Faintness he had never felt before. He had not eat in
+two Days, which was one Occasion of his Feebleness, but Excess of Grief
+was the greatest; yet still he hoped he should recover Vigour to act his
+Design, and lay expecting it yet six Days longer; still mourning over
+the dead Idol of his Heart, and striving every Day to rise, but could
+not.
+
+In all this time you may believe we were in no little Affliction for
+_Cæsar_ and his Wife; some were of Opinion he was escaped, never to
+return; others thought some Accident had happened to him: But however,
+we fail’d not to send out a hundred People several Ways, to search for
+him. A Party of about forty went that Way he took, among whom was
+_Tuscan_, who was perfectly reconciled to _Byam_: They had not gone
+very far into the Wood, but they smelt an unusual Smell, as of a dead
+Body; for Stinks must be very noisom, that can be distinguish’d among
+such a Quantity of natural Sweets, as every Inch of that Land produces:
+so that they concluded they should find him dead, or some body that was
+so; they pass’d on towards it, as loathsom as it was, and made such
+rustling among the Leaves that lie thick on the Ground, by continual
+falling, that _Cæsar_ heard he was approach’d; and though he had, during
+the Space of these eight Days, endeavour’d to rise, but found he wanted
+Strength, yet looking up, and seeing his Pursuers, he rose, and reel’d
+to a neighbouring Tree, against which he fix’d his Back; and being
+within a dozen Yards of those that advanc’d and saw him, he call’d out
+to them, and bid them approach no nearer, if they would be safe. So that
+they stood still, and hardly believing their Eyes, that would persuade
+them that it was _Cæsar_ that spoke to them, so much he was alter’d;
+they ask’d him, what he had done with his Wife, for they smelt a Stink
+that almost struck them dead? He pointing to the dead Body, sighing,
+cry’d, _Behold her there._ They put off the Flowers that cover’d her,
+with their Sticks, and found she was kill’d, and cry’d out, _Oh,
+Monster! that hast murder’d thy Wife._ Then asking him, why he did so
+cruel a Deed? He reply’d, He had no Leisure to answer impertinent
+Questions: ‘You may go back (_continued he_) and tell the faithless
+Governor, he may thank Fortune that I am breathing my last; and that my
+Arm is too feeble to obey my Heart, in what it had design’d him’: But
+his Tongue faultering, and trembling, he could scarce end what he was
+saying. The _English_ taking Advantage by his Weakness, cry’d, _Let us
+take him alive by all Means._ He heard ’em; and, as if he had reviv’d
+from a Fainting, or a Dream, he cried out, ‘No, Gentlemen, you are
+deceived; you will find no more _Cæsars_ to be whipt; no more find a
+Faith in me; Feeble as you think me, I have Strength yet left to secure
+me from a second Indignity.’ They swore all anew; and he only shook his
+Head, and beheld them with Scorn. Then they cry’d out, _Who will venture
+on this single Man? Will nobody?_ They stood all silent, while _Cæsar_
+replied, _Fatal will be the Attempt of the first Adventurer, let him
+assure himself_, (and, at that Word, held up his Knife in a menacing
+Posture:) _Look ye, ye faithless Crew_, said he, _’tis not Life I seek,
+nor am I afraid of dying_, (and at that Word, cut a Piece of Flesh from
+his own Throat, and threw it at ’em) _yet still I would live if I could,
+till I had perfected my Revenge: But, oh! it cannot be; I feel Life
+gliding from my Eyes and Heart; and if I make not haste, I shall fall a
+Victim to the shameful Whip._ At that, he rip’d up his own Belly, and
+took his Bowels and pull’d ’em out, with what Strength he could; while
+some, on their Knees imploring, besought him to hold his Hand. But when
+they saw him tottering, they cry’d out, _Will none venture on him?_ A
+bold _Englishman_ cry’d, _Yes, if he were the Devil_, (taking Courage
+when he saw him almost dead) and swearing a horrid Oath for his farewel
+to the World, he rush’d on him. _Cæsar_ with his arm’d Hand, met him so
+fairly, as stuck him to the Heart, and he Fell dead at his feet.
+_Tuscan_ seeing that, cry’d out, _I love thee, O +Cæsar+! and therefore
+will not let thee die, if possible_; and running to him, took him in his
+Arms; but, at the same time, warding a Blow that _Cæsar_ made at his
+Bosom, he receiv’d it quite through his Arm; and _Cæsar_ having not
+Strength to pluck the Knife forth, tho’ he attempted it, _Tuscan_
+neither pull’d it out himself, nor suffer’d it to be pull’d out, but
+came down with it sticking in his Arm; and the Reason he gave for it,
+was, because the Air should not get into the Wound. They put their Hands
+a-cross, and carry’d _Cæsar_ between six of ’em, fainting as he was, and
+they thought dead, or just dying; and they brought him to _Parham_, and
+laid him on a Couch, and had the Chirurgeon immediately to him, who
+dressed his Wounds, and sow’d up his Belly, and us’d Means to bring him
+to Life, which they effected. We ran all to see him; and, if before we
+thought him so beautiful a Sight, he was now so alter’d, that his Face
+was like a Death’s-Head black’d over, nothing but Teeth and Eye-holes:
+For some Days we suffer’d no Body to speak to him, but caused Cordials
+to be poured down his Throat; which sustained his Life, and in six or
+seven Days he recovered his Senses: For, you must know, that Wounds are
+almost to a Miracle cur’d in the _Indies_; unless Wounds in the Legs,
+which they rarely ever cure.
+
+When he was well enough to speak, we talk’d to him, and ask’d him some
+Questions about his Wife, and the Reasons why he kill’d her; and he then
+told us what I have related of that Resolution, and of his Parting, and
+he besought us we would let him die, and was extremely afflicted to
+think it was possible he might live: He assur’d us, if we did not
+dispatch him, he would prove very fatal to a great many. We said all we
+could to make him live, and gave him new Assurances; but he begg’d we
+would not think so poorly of him, or of his Love to _Imoinda_, to
+imagine we could flatter him to Life again: But the Chirurgeon assur’d
+him he could not live, and therefore he need not fear. We were all (but
+_Cæsar_) afflicted at this News, and the Sight was ghastly: His
+Discourse was sad; and the earthy Smell about him so strong, that I was
+persuaded to leave the Place for some time, (being my self but sickly,
+and very apt to fall into Fits of dangerous Illness upon any
+extraordinary Melancholy.) The Servants, and _Trefry_, and the
+Chirurgeons, promis’d all to take what possible Care they could of the
+Life of _Cæsar_; and I, taking Boat, went with other Company to Colonel
+_Martin’s_, about three Days Journey down the River. But I was no sooner
+gone, than the Governor taking _Trefry_, about some pretended earnest
+Business, a Day’s Journey up the River, having communicated his Design
+to one _Banister_, a wild _Irish_ Man, one of the Council, a Fellow of
+absolute Barbarity, and fit to execute any Villany, but rich; he came up
+to _Parham_, and forcibly took _Cæsar_, and had him carried to the same
+Post where he was whipp’d; and causing him to be ty’d to it, and a great
+Fire made before him, he told him he should die like a Dog, as he was.
+_Cæsar_ replied, This was the first piece of Bravery that ever
+_Banister_ did, and he never spoke Sense till he pronounc’d that Word;
+and if he would keep it, he would declare, in the other World, that he
+was the only Man, of all the _Whites_, that ever he heard speak Truth.
+And turning to the Men that had bound him, he said, _My Friends, am I to
+die, or to be whipt?_ And they cry’d, _Whipt! no, you shall not escape
+so well._ And then he reply’d, smiling, _A Blessing on thee_; and
+assur’d them they need not tie him, for he would stand fix’d like a
+Rock, and endure Death so as should encourage them to die: _But if you
+whip me_ (said he) _be sure you tie me fast_.
+
+He had learn’d to take Tobacco; and when he was assur’d he should die,
+he desir’d they would give him a Pipe in his Mouth, ready lighted; which
+they did: And the Executioner came, and first cut off his Members, and
+threw them into the Fire; after that, with an ill-favour’d Knife, they
+cut off his Ears and his Nose, and burn’d them; he still smoak’d on, as
+if nothing had touch’d him; then they hack’d off one of his Arms, and
+still he bore up and held his Pipe; but at the cutting off the other
+Arm, his Head sunk, and his Pipe dropt, and he gave up the Ghost,
+without a Groan, or a Reproach. My Mother and Sister were by him all the
+While, but not suffer’d to save him; so rude and wild were the Rabble,
+and so inhuman were the Justices who stood by to see the Execution, who
+after paid dear enough for their Insolence. They cut _Cæsar_ into
+Quarters, and sent them to several of the chief Plantations: One Quarter
+was sent to Colonel _Martin_; who refus’d it, and swore, he had rather
+see the Quarters of _Banister_, and the Governor himself, than those of
+_Cæsar_, on his Plantations; and that he could govern his _Negroes_,
+without terrifying and grieving them with frightful Spectacles of a
+mangled King.
+
+
+Thus died this great Man, worthy of a better Fate, and a more sublime
+Wit than mine to write his Praise: Yet, I hope, the Reputation of my Pen
+is considerable enough to make his glorious Name to survive to all Ages,
+with that of the brave, the beautiful and the constant _Imoinda_.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: Oroonoko.
+
+
+p. 509 _Appendix. Oronooko: Epistle Dedicatory._ Richard Maitland,
+fourth Earl of Lauderdale (1653-95), eldest son of Charles, third Earl
+of Lauderdale by Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Richard Lauder of
+Halton, was born 20 June, 1653. Before his father succeeded to the
+Lauderdale title he was styled of Over-Gogar; after that event he
+was known as Lord Maitland. 9 October, 1678, he was sworn a Privy
+Councillor, and appointed Joint General of the Mint with his father.
+In 1681 he was made Lord Justice General, but deprived of that office
+three years later on account of suspected communications with his
+father-in-law, Argyll, who had fled to Holland in 1681. Maitland,
+however, was in truth a strong Jacobite, and refusing to accept the
+Revolution settlement became an exile with his King. He is said to have
+been present at the battle of the Boyne, 1 July, 1690. He resided for
+some time at St. Germains, but fell into disfavour, perhaps owing to the
+well-known protestant sympathies of his wife, Lady Agnes Campbell
+(1658-1734), second daughter of the fanatical Archibald, Earl of Argyll.
+From St. Germains Maitland retired to Paris, where he died in 1695. He
+had succeeded to the Earldom of Lauderdale 9 June, 1691, but was
+outlawed by the Court of Justiciary, 23 July, 1694. He left no issue.
+Lauderdale was the author of a verse translation of Virgil (8vo, 1718
+and 2 Vols., 12mo, 1737). Dryden, to whom he sent a MS. copy from Paris,
+states that whilst working on his own version he consulted this whenever
+a crux appeared in the Latin text. Lauderdale also wrote _A Memorial on
+the Estate of Scotland_ (about 1690), printed in Hooke’s
+_Correspondence_ (Roxburghe Club), and there wrongly ascribed to the
+third Earl, his father.
+
+The Dedication only occurs in the first edition of _Oronooko_ (1688),
+of which I can trace but one copy. This is in the library of Mr. F. F.
+Norcross of Chicago, whose brother-in-law, Mr. Harold B. Wrenn, most
+kindly transcribed and transmitted to me the Epistle Dedicatory. It,
+unfortunately, arrived too late for insertion at p. 129.
+
+p. 130 _I gave ’em to the King’s Theatre._ Sir Robert Howard and
+Dryden’s heroic tragedy, _The Indian Queen_, was produced at the Theatre
+Royal in mid-January, 1663. It is a good play, but the extraordinary
+success it attained was in no small measure due to the excellence and
+magnificence of the scenic effects and mounting. 27 January, Pepys
+noticed that the streets adjacent to the theatre were ‘full of coaches
+at the new play _The Indian Queen_, which for show, they say, exceeds
+_Henry VIII_.’ On 1 February he himself found it ‘indeed a most pleasant
+show’. The grandeur of the _mise en scène_ became long proverbial in
+theatrical history. Zempoalla, the Indian Queen, a fine rôle, was
+superbly acted by Mrs. Marshall, the leading tragedienne of the day. The
+feathered ornaments which Mrs. Behn mentions must have formed a quaint
+but doubtless striking addition to the actress’s pseudo-classic attire.
+Bernbaum pictures ‘Nell Gwynn[5] in the true costume of a Carib belle’,
+a quite unfair deduction from Mrs. Behn’s words.
+
+p. 168 _Osenbrigs._ More usually ‘osnaburg’, so named from Osnabrück in
+North Germany, a kind of coarse linen made in this town. Narborough’s
+Journal, 1669 (_An Account of Several Late Voyages_, 1694), speaks of
+‘Cloth, Osenbrigs, Tobacco’. cf. _Pennsylvania Col. Records_ (1732):
+‘That to each there be given a couple of Shirts, a Jackett, two pairs of
+trowsers of Oznabrigs.’
+
+p. 174 _as soon as the Governour arrived_. The Governor was Francis
+Willoughby, fifth Baron Willoughby of Parham (1613?-1666). He had
+arrived at Barbadoes, 29 April, 1650, and was received as Governor 7
+May, which same day he caused Charles II to be proclaimed. An ardent
+royalist, he was dispossessed by an Act of Parliament, 4 March, 1652,
+and summoned back to England. At the Restoration he was reinstated, and
+arrived the second time with full powers in Barbadoes, 10 August, 1663.
+About the end of July, 1666, he was lost at sea on board the good ship
+_Hope_.
+
+p. 177 _my Father . . . never arriv’d to possess the Honour design’d
+him._ Bernbaum, following the mistaken statement that Mrs. Behn’s
+father, John Amis, was a barber, argues that a man in such a position
+could hardly have obtained so important a post, and if her ‘father was
+not sent to Surinam, the only reason she gives for being there
+disappears.’ However, since we know her father to have been no barber,
+but of good family, this line of discussion falls to the ground.
+
+p. 180 _Brother to Harry Martin the great Oliverian._ Henry, or Harry,
+and George Marten were the two sons of Sir Henry Marten (_ob._ 1641)
+and his first wife, Elizabeth, who died 19 June, 1618. For the elder
+brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note Vol. I, p. 457.
+
+p. 193 _The Deputy Governor._ William Byam was ‘Lieutenant General of
+Guiana and Governor of Willoughby Land’, 1661-7. Even previously to this
+he had gained no little influence and power in these colonies. He headed
+the forces that defended Surinam in 1667 against the Dutch Admiral
+Crynsens, who, however, proved victorious.
+
+p. 198 _my new Comedy. The Younger Brother; or, The Amorous Jilt_,
+posthumously produced under the auspices of, and with some alterations
+by, Charles Gildon at Drury Lane in 1696. George Marteen, acted by
+Powell, is the young and gallant hero of the comedy.
+
+p. 200 _his Council_. In _The Widow Ranter_ Mrs. Behn draws a vivid
+picture of these deboshed ruffians.
+
+p. 207 _one Banister_. Sergeant Major James Banister being, after
+Byam’s departure in 1667, ‘the only remaining eminent person’ became
+Lieutenant-Governor. It was he who in 1668 made the final surrender of
+the colony. Later, having quarrelled with the Dutch he was imprisoned by
+them.
+
+    [Footnote 5: Nell Gwynne had no part in the play.]
+
+
+Cross-Reference from Critical Notes: _Oroonoko_
+
+Note to p. 180: For the elder brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note
+Vol. I, p. 457.
+
+  Vol. I, p. 457 note (referring to _The Roundheads_, V, ii):
+
+  p. 414 _Peters the first_, _Martin the Second_. Hugh Peters has been
+  noticed before. Henry Martin was an extreme republican, and at one
+  time even a Leveller. He was a commissioner of the High Court of
+  Justice and a regicide. At the Restoration he was imprisoned for
+  life and died at Chepstow Castle, 1681, aged seventy-eight. He was
+  notorious for profligacy and shamelessness, and kept a very seraglio
+  of mistresses.  [[The date “1681” is in the original.]]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+AGNES DE CASTRO.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+The ‘sweet sentimental tragedy’ of Agnes de Castro was founded by Mrs.
+Behn upon a work by Mlle S. B. de Brillac, _Agnès de Castro, nouvelle
+portugaise_ (1688), and various subsequent editions. In the same year
+(1688) as Mrs. Behn’s _Agnes de Castro; or, The Force of Generous Blood_
+was published there appeared ‘Two New Novels, i. _The Art of Making
+Love_.[1] ii. _The Fatal Beauty of Agnes de Castro_: Taken out of the
+History of Portugal. Translated from the French by P. B. G.[2] For
+R. Bentley’ (12mo). Each has a separate title page. Bellon’s version
+does not differ materially from Mrs. Behn, but she far exceeds him in
+spirit and niceness of style.
+
+So much legend has surrounded the romantic history of the beautiful Ines
+de Castro that it is impossible fully to elucidate every detail of her
+life. Born in the early years of the fourteenth century, she was the
+daughter of Pedro Fernandez de Castro, major domo to Alphonso XI of
+Castille. She accompanied her relative, Dona Constança Manuel, daughter
+to the Duke of Peñafiel, to the court of Alphonso IV of Portugal when
+this lady was to wed the Infante Don Pedro. Here Ines excited the
+fondest love in Pedro’s heart and the passion was reciprocated. She bore
+him several children, and there can be no doubt that Dona Constança was
+madly jealous of her husband’s amour with her fair friend. 13 November,
+1345, Constança died, and Pedro immediately married his mistress at
+Braganza in the presence of the Bishop of Guarda. Their nuptials were
+kept secret, and the old King kept pressing his son to take a wife.
+Before long his spies found out the reason of the Infante’s constant
+refusals; and, beside himself with rage, he watched an opportunity
+whilst Pedro, on a great hunting expedition, was absent from Coimbra
+where they resided, and had Ines cruelly assassinated 7 January, 1355.
+The grief of Pedro was terrible, he plunged the country into civil war,
+and it was only by the tenderest solicitations of his mother and the
+authority of several holy monks and bishops that he was restrained from
+taking a terrible revenge upon his father. Alphonso died, his power
+curtailed, his end unhappy, May, 1357.
+
+A very literature has grown up around the lovely Ines, and many more
+than a hundred items of interest could be enumerated. The best authority
+is J. de Araujo, whose monumental _Bibliographia Inesiana_ was published
+in 1897. Mrs. Behn’s novel was immensely popular and is included, with
+some unnecessary moral observations as preface, in Mrs. Griffith’s _A
+Collection of Novels_ (1777), Vol. III, which has a plate illustrating
+the tale. It was turned into French by Marie-Geneviève-Charlotte Tiroux
+d’ Arconville (1720-1805), wife of a councillor of the Parliament, an
+aimable blue-stocking who devoted her life wholly to literature, and
+translated freely from English. This work is to be found in _Romans (les
+deux premiers . . . tirés des Lettres Persanes . . . par M. Littleton et
+le dernier . . . d’un Recueil de Romans . . . de Madame Behn) traduits
+de l’ Anglois_, (Amsterdam, 1761.) It occurs again in _Mélanges de
+Litterature_ (12mo, 1775, etc.), Vol. VI.
+
+A tragedy, _Agnes de Castro_, written by that philosophical lady,
+Catherine Trotter (afterwards Cockburn), at the early age of sixteen,
+and produced at the Theatre Royal, 1696, with Powell, Verbruggen, Mrs.
+Rogers in the principal parts, is directly founded upon Mrs. Behn. It is
+a mediocre play, and the same can even more truly be said of Mallet’s
+cold _Elvira_ (1763). This was acted, however, with fair success
+thirteen times. Garrick played Don Pedro, his last original part, and
+Mrs. Cibber Elvira. Such dull exercises as C. Symmons, _Inez, a tragedy_
+(1796), and _Ignez de Castro_, a tragedy in verse, intended for _Hoad’s
+Magazine_ call for no comment.
+
+There is a French play by Lamotte on the subject of Ines de Castro,
+which was first produced 6 April, 1723. Voltaire found the first four
+acts execrable and laughed consumedly. The fifth was so tender and true
+that he melted into tears. In Italian we have, from the pen of
+Bertoletti, _Inez de Castro_, tragedia, Milano, 1826.
+
+In Spanish and Portuguese there are, of course, innumerable poems,
+treaties, tragedies, studies, romances. Lope de Vega wrote _Dona Inez de
+Castro_, and the beautiful episode of Camoens is deservedly famous.
+Antonio Ferreira’s splendid tragedy is well known. First published in
+_Comedias Famosas dos Doctores de Sa de Mirande_ (4to, 1622), it can
+also be read in _Poemas lusitanos_ (2 Vols., 8vo, Lisbon, 1771). Domingo
+dos Reis Quita wrote a drama, _Ignez de Castro_, a translation of which,
+by Benjamin Thompson, was published in 1800. There is also a play _Dona
+Ignez de Castro_, by Nicolas Luiz, which was Englished by John Adamson,
+whose version was printed at Newcastle, 1808.
+
+    [Footnote 1: Mr. Arundell Esdaile in his _Bibliography of Fiction_
+    (_printed before 1740_) erroneously identifies this amusing little
+    piece with Mrs. Behn’s _The Lover’s Watch_. It is, however, quite
+    another thing, dealing with a pseudo-Turkish language of love.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: i.e., Peter Bellon, Gent. Bellon was an assiduous
+    hackney writer and translator of the day. He has also left one
+    comedy, _The Mock Duellist; or, The French Valet_ (4to, 1675).]
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF _AGNES de CASTRO_.
+
+
+Tho’ Love, all soft and flattering, promises nothing but Pleasures; yet
+its Consequences are often sad and fatal. It is not enough to be in
+love, to be happy; since Fortune, who is capricious, and takes delight
+to trouble the Repose of the most elevated and virtuous, has very little
+respect for passionate and tender Hearts, when she designs to produce
+strange Adventures.
+
+Many Examples of past Ages render this Maxim certain; but the Reign of
+_Don Alphonso_ the IVth, King of _Portugal_, furnishes us with one, the
+most extraordinary that History can produce.
+
+He was the Son of that _Don Denis_, who was so successful in all his
+Undertakings, that it was said of him, that he was capable of performing
+whatever he design’d, (and of _Isabella_, a Princess of eminent Virtue)
+who when he came to inherit a flourishing and tranquil State,
+endeavour’d to establish Peace and Plenty in abundance in his Kingdom.
+
+And to advance this his Design, he agreed on a Marriage between his Son
+_Don Pedro_ (then about eight Years of Age) and _Bianca_, Daughter of
+_Don Pedro_, King of _Castile_; and whom the young Prince married when
+he arriv’d to his sixteenth Year.
+
+_Bianca_ brought nothing to _Coimbra_ but Infirmities and very few
+Charms. _Don Pedro_, who was full of Sweetness and Generosity, lived
+nevertheless very well with her; but those Distempers of the Princess
+degenerating into the Palsy, she made it her request to retire, and at
+her Intercession the Pope broke the Marriage, and the melancholy
+Princess conceal’d her Languishment in a solitary Retreat: And _Don
+Pedro_, for whom they had provided another Match, married _Constantia
+Manuel_, Daughter of _Don John Manuel_, a Prince of the Blood of
+_Castile_, and famous for the Enmity he had to his King.
+
+_Constantia_ was promised to the King of _Castile_; but the King not
+keeping his word, they made no Difficulty of bestowing her on a young
+Prince, who was one Day to reign over a number of fine Provinces. He was
+but five and twenty years of Age, and the Man of all _Spain_ that had
+the best Fashion and Grace: and with the most advantageous Qualities of
+the Body he possest those of the Soul, and shewed himself worthy in all
+things of the Crown that was destin’d for him.
+
+The Princess _Constantia_ had Beauty, Wit, and Generosity, in as great a
+measure as ’twas possible for a Woman to be possest with; her Merit
+alone ought to have attach’d _Don Pedro_, eternally to her; and
+certainly he had for her an Esteem, mix’d with so great a Respect, as
+might very well pass for Love with those that were not of a nice and
+curious Observation: but alas! his real Care was reserved for another
+Beauty.
+
+_Constantia_ brought into the World, the first Year after her Marriage,
+a Son, who was called _Don Louis_: but it scarce saw the Light, and dy’d
+almost as soon as born. The loss of this little Prince sensibly touched
+her, but the Coldness she observ’d in the Prince her Husband, went yet
+nearer her Heart; for she had given her self absolutely up to her Duty,
+and had made her Tenderness for him her only Concern: But puissant
+Glory, which ty’d her so entirely to the Interest of the Prince of
+_Portugal_, open’d her Eyes upon his Actions, where she observ’d nothing
+in his Caresses and Civilities that was natural, or could satisfy her
+delicate Heart.
+
+At first she fancy’d her self deceiv’d, but time having confirmed her in
+what she fear’d, she sighed in secret; yet had that Consideration for
+the Prince, as not to let him see her Disorder: and which nevertheless
+she could not conceal from _Agnes de Castro_, who lived with her, rather
+as a Companion, than a Maid of Honour, and whom her Friendship made her
+infinitely distinguish from the rest.
+
+This Maid, so dear to the Princess, very well merited the Preference her
+Mistress gave her; she was beautiful to excess, wise, discreet, witty,
+and had more Tenderness for _Constantia_ than she had for her self,
+having quitted her Family, which was illustrious, to give her self
+wholly to the Service of the Princess, and to follow her into
+_Portugal_. It was into the Bosom of this Maid, that the Princess
+unladed her first Moans; and the charming _Agnes_ forgot nothing that
+might give ease to her afflicted Heart.
+
+Nor was _Constantia_ the only Person who complained of _Don Pedro_:
+Before his Divorce from _Bianca_, he had expressed some Care and
+Tenderness for _Elvira Gonzales_, Sister to Don _Alvaro Gonzales_,
+Favourite to the King of _Portugal_; and this Amusement in the young
+Years of the Prince, had made a deep Impression on _Elvira_, who
+flatter’d her Ambition with the Infirmities of _Bianca_. She saw, with a
+secret Rage, _Constantia_ take her place, who was possest with such
+Charms, that quite divested her of all Hopes.
+
+Her Jealousy left her not idle, she examined all the Actions of the
+Prince, and easily discover’d the little Regard he had for the Princess;
+but this brought him not back to her. And it was upon very good grounds
+that she suspected him to be in love with some other Person, and
+possessed with a new Passion; and which she promised herself, she would
+destroy as soon as she could find it out. She had a Spirit altogether
+proper for bold and hazardous Enterprizes; and the Credit of her Brother
+gave her so much Vanity, as all the Indifference of the Prince was not
+capable of humbling.
+
+The Prince languished, and concealed the Cause with so much Care, that
+’twas impossible for any to find it out. No publick Pleasures were
+agreeable to him, and all Conversations were tedious; and it was
+Solitude alone that was able to give him any ease.
+
+This Change surprized all the World. The King, who loved his Son very
+tenderly, earnestly pressed him to know the Reason of his Melancholy;
+but the Prince made no answer, but only this, That it was the effect of
+his Temper.
+
+But Time ran on, and the Princess was brought to bed of a second Son,
+who liv’d, and was called _Fernando_. _Don Pedro_ forc’d himself a
+little to take part in the publick Joy, so that they believ’d his Humour
+was changing; but this Appearance of a Calm endur’d not long, and he
+fell back again into his black Melancholy.
+
+The artful _Elvira_ was incessantly agitated in searching out the
+Knowledge of this Secret. Chance wrought for her; and, as she was
+walking, full of Indignation and Anger, in the Garden of the Palace of
+_Coimbra_, she found the Prince of _Portugal_ sleeping in an obscure
+Grotto.
+
+Her Fury could not contain it self at the sight of this loved Object,
+she roll’d her Eyes upon him, and perceived in spite of Sleep, that some
+Tears escaped his Eyes; the Flame which burnt yet in her Heart, soon
+grew soft and tender there: But oh! she heard him sigh, and after that
+utter these words, _Yes, Divine +Agnes+, I will sooner die than let you
+know it: +Constantia+ shall have nothing to reproach me with._ _Elvira_
+was enraged at this Discourse, which represented to her immediately, the
+same moment, _Agnes de Castro_ with all her Charms; and not at all
+doubting, but it was she who possest the Heart of _Don Pedro_, she found
+in her Soul more Hatred for this fair Rival, than Tenderness for him.
+
+The Grotto was not a fit Place to make Reflections in, or to form
+Designs. Perhaps her first Transports would have made her waken him, if
+she had not perceived a Paper lying under his Hand, which she softly
+seiz’d on; and that she might not be surprized in the reading it, she
+went out of the Garden with as much haste as confusion.
+
+When she was retired to her Apartment, she open’d the Paper, trembling,
+and found in it these Verses, writ by the Hand of _Don Pedro_; and
+which, in appearance, he had newly then compos’d.
+
+  _In vain, Oh! Sacred Honour, you debate
+    The mighty Business in my Heart:
+  Love! Charming Love! rules all my Fate;
+    Interest and Glory claim no part.
+  The God, sure of his Victory, triumphs there,
+  And will have nothing in his Empire share._
+
+  _In vain, Oh! Sacred Duty, you oppose;
+    In vain, your Nuptial Tye you plead:
+  Those forc’d Devoirs LOVE overthrows,
+    And breaks the Vows he never made.
+  Fixing his fatal Arrows every where,
+  I burn and languish in a soft Despair._
+
+  _Fair Princess, you to whom my Faith is due;
+    Pardon the Destiny that drags me on:
+  ’Tis not my fault my Heart’s untrue,
+    I am compell’d to be undone.
+  My Life is yours, I gave it with my Hand,
+  But my Fidelity I can’t command._
+
+_Elvira_ did not only know the Writing of _Don Pedro_, but she knew also
+that he could write Verses. And seeing the sad Part which _Constantia_
+had in these which were now fallen into her hands, she made no scruple
+of resolving to let the Princess see ’em: but that she might not be
+suspected, she took care not to appear in this Business her self; and
+since it was not enough for _Constantia_ to know that the Prince did not
+love her, but that she must know also that he was a Slave to _Agnes de
+Castro_, _Elvira_ caused these few Verses to be written in an unknown
+Hand, under those writ by the Prince.
+
+  _Sleep betrayed th’ unhappy Lover,
+    While Tears were streaming from his Eyes;
+  His heedless Tongue without disguise,
+    The Secret did discover:
+  The Language of his Heart declare,
+  That +Agnes’+ Image triumphs there._
+
+_Elvira_ regarded neither Exactness nor Grace in these Lines: And if
+they had but the effect she design’d, she wished no more.
+
+Her Impatience could not wait till the next day to expose them: she
+therefore went immediately to the Lodgings of the Princess, who was then
+walking in the Garden of the Palace; and passing without resistance,
+even to her Cabinet, she put the Paper into a Book, in which the
+Princess used to read, and went out again unseen, and satisfy’d with her
+good Fortune.
+
+As soon as _Constantia_ was return’d, she enter’d into her Cabinet, and
+saw the Book open, and the Verses lying in it, which were to cost her so
+dear: She soon knew the Hand of the Prince which was so familiar to her;
+and besides the Information of what she had always fear’d, she
+understood it was _Agnes de Castro_ (whose Friendship alone was able to
+comfort her in her Misfortunes) who was the fatal Cause of it: she read
+over the Paper an hundred times, desiring to give her Eyes and Reason
+the Lye; but finding but too plainly she was not deceiv’d, she found her
+Soul possest with more Grief than Anger: when she consider’d, as much in
+love as the Prince was, he had kept his Torment secret. After having
+made her moan, without condemning him, the Tenderness she had for him,
+made her shed a Torrent of Tears, and inspir’d her with a Resolution of
+concealing her Resentment.
+
+She would certainly have done it by a Virtue extraordinary, if the
+Prince, who missing his Verses when he waked, and fearing they might
+fall into indiscreet Hands, had not enter’d the Palace, all troubled
+with his Loss; and hastily going into _Constantia’s_ Apartment, saw her
+fair Eyes all wet with Tears, and at the same instant cast his own on
+the unhappy Verses that had escaped from his Soul, and now lay before
+the Princess.
+
+He immediately turned pale at this sight, and appear’d so mov’d, that
+the generous Princess felt more Pain than he did: ‘Madam, _said he_,
+(infinitely alarm’d) from whom had you that Paper? It cannot come but
+from the Hand of some Person, _answer’d_ Constantia, who is an Enemy
+both to your Repose and mine. It is the Work, Sir, of your own Hand; and
+doubtless the Sentiment of your Heart. But be not surprized, and do not
+fear; for if my Tenderness should make it pass for a Crime in you, the
+same Tenderness which nothing is able to alter, shall hinder me from
+complaining.’
+
+The Moderation and Calmness of _Constantia_, served only to render the
+Prince more asham’d and confus’d. _How generous are you, Madam_,
+(pursu’d he) _and how unfortunate am I!_ Some Tears accompany’d his
+Words, and the Princess, who lov’d him with extreme Ardour, was so
+sensibly touch’d, that it was a good while before she could utter a
+word. _Constantia_ then broke silence, and shewing him what _Elvira_ had
+caus’d to be written: _You are betray’d, Sir_, (added she) _you have
+been heard speak, and your Secret is known._ It was at this very moment
+that all the Forces of the Prince abandon’d him; and his Condition was
+really worthy Compassion: He could not pardon himself the involuntary
+Crime he had committed, in exposing of the lovely and the innocent
+_Agnes_. And tho’ he was convinced of the Virtue and Goodness of
+_Constantia_, the Apprehensions that he had, that this modest and
+prudent Maid might suffer by his Conduct, carry’d him beyond all
+Consideration.
+
+The Princess, who heedfully survey’d him, saw so many Marks of Despair
+in his Face and Eyes, that she was afraid of the Consequences; and
+holding out her Hand, in a very obliging manner to him, she said,
+‘I promise you, Sir, I will never more complain of you, and that _Agnes_
+shall always be very dear to me; you shall never hear me make you any
+Reproaches: And since I cannot possess your Heart, I will content myself
+with endeavouring to render myself worthy of it.’ _Don Pedro_, more
+confus’d and dejected than before he had been, bent one of his Knees at
+the feet of _Constantia_, and with respect kiss’d that fair kind Hand
+she had given him, and perhaps forgot _Agnes_ for a moment.
+
+But Love soon put a stop to all the little Advances of _Hymen_; the
+fatal Star that presided over the Destiny of _Don Pedro_ had not yet
+vented its Malignity; and one moment’s sight of _Agnes_ gave new Force
+to his Passion.
+
+The Wishes and Desires of this charming Maid had no part in this
+Victory; her Eyes were just, tho’ penetrating, and they searched not in
+those of the Prince, what they had a desire to discover to her.
+
+As she was never far from _Constantia_, _Don Pedro_ was no sooner gone
+out of the Closet, but _Agnes_ enter’d; and finding the Princess all
+pale and languishing in her Chair, she doubted not but there was some
+sufficient Cause for her Affliction: she put herself in the same Posture
+the Prince had been in before, and expressing an Inquietude, full of
+Concern; ‘Madam, _said she_, by all your Goodness, conceal not from me
+the Cause of your Trouble. Alas, _Agnes_, _reply’d the Princess_, what
+would you know? And what should I tell you? The Prince, the Prince, my
+dearest Maid, is in love; the Hand that he gave me, was not a Present of
+his Heart; and for the Advantage of this Alliance, I must become the
+Victim of it--What! the Prince in Love! (_reply’d +Agnes+, with an
+Astonishment mix’d with Indignation_) What Beauty can dispute the Empire
+over a Heart so much your due? Alas, Madam, all the Respect I owe him,
+cannot hinder me from murmuring against him. Accuse him of nothing,
+(_interrupted_ Constantia) he does what he can; and I am more oblig’d to
+him for desiring to be faithful, than if I possest his real Tenderness.
+It is not enough to fight, but to overcome; and the Prince does more in
+the Condition wherein he is, than I ought reasonably to hope for: In
+fine, he is my Husband, and an agreeable one; to whom nothing is
+wanting, but what I cannot inspire; that is, a Passion which would have
+made me but too happy. Ah! Madam, (_cry’d out +Agnes+, transported with
+her Tenderness for the Princess_) he is a blind and stupid Prince, who
+knows not the precious Advantages he possesses. He must surely know
+something, (_reply’d the Princess modestly._) But, Madam, (_reply’d
++Agnes+_) Is there any thing, not only in _Portugal_, but in all
+_Spain_, that can compare with you? And without considering the charming
+Qualities of your Person, can we enough admire those of your Soul? My
+dear _Agnes_, (_interrupted +Constantia+, sighing_) she who robs me of
+my Husband’s Heart, has but too many Charms to plead his Excuse; since
+it is thou, Child, whom Fortune makes use of, to give me the killing
+Blow. Yes, _Agnes_, the Prince loves thee; and the Merit I know thou art
+possest of, puts bounds to my Complaints, without suffering me to have
+the least Resentment.’
+
+The delicate _Agnes_ little expected to hear what the Princess told her:
+Thunder would have less surpriz’d, and less oppres’d her. She remain’d a
+long time without speaking; but at last, fixing her Looks all frightful
+on _Constantia_, ‘What say you, Madam? (_cry’d she_) And what Thoughts
+have you of me? What, that I should betray you? And coming hither only
+full of Ardor to be the Repose of your Life, do I bring a fatal Poison
+to afflict it? What Detestation must I have for the Beauty they find in
+me, without aspiring to make it appear? And how ought I to curse the
+unfortunate Day, on which I first saw the Prince?--But, Madam, it cannot
+be me whom Heaven has chosen to torment you, and to destroy all your
+Tranquillity: No, it cannot be so much my Enemy, to put me to so great a
+Tryal. And if I were that odious Person, there is no Punishment, to
+which I would not condemn my self. It is _Elvira_, Madam, the Prince
+loves, and loved before his Marriage with you, and also before his
+Divorce from _Bianca_; and somebody has made an indiscreet Report to you
+of this Intrigue of his Youth: But, Madam, what was in the time of
+_Bianca_, is nothing to you. It is certain that _Don Pedro_ loves you,
+(_answer’d the Princess_) and I have Vanity enough to believe, that,
+none besides your self could have disputed his Heart with me: But the
+Secret is discover’d, and _Don Pedro_ has not disown’d it. What,
+(_interrupted +Agnes+, more surpriz’d than ever_) is it then from
+himself you have learned his Weakness?’ The Princess then shew’d her the
+Verses, and there was never any Despair like to hers.
+
+While they were both thus sadly employ’d, both sighing, and both
+weeping, the impatient _Elvira_, who was willing to learn the Effect of
+her Malice, returned to the Apartment of the Princess, where she freely
+enter’d; even to the Cabinet where these unhappy Persons were: who all
+afflicted and troubled as they were, blushed at her approach, whose
+Company they did not desire: She had the Pleasure to see _Constantia_
+hide from her the Paper which had been the Cause of all their Trouble,
+and which the Princess had never seen, but for her Spite and Revenge;
+and to observe also in the Eyes of the Princess, and those of _Agnes_,
+an immoderate Grief: She staid in the Cabinet as long as it was
+necessary to be assur’d, that she had succeeded in her Design; but the
+Princess, who did not desire such a Witness of the Disorder in which she
+then was, pray’d to be left alone. _Elvira_ then went out of the
+Cabinet, and _Agnes de Castro_ withdrew at the same time.
+
+It was in her own Chamber, that _Agnes_ examining more freely this
+Adventure, found it as cruel as Death. She loved _Constantia_ sincerely,
+and had not till then any thing more than an Esteem, mixt with
+Admiration, for the Prince of _Portugal_; which indeed, none could
+refuse to so many fine Qualities. And looking on her self as the most
+unfortunate of her Sex, as being the Cause of all the Sufferings of the
+Princess, to whom she was obliged for the greatest Bounties, she spent
+the whole Night in Tears and Complaints, sufficient to have reveng’d
+_Constantia_ for all the Griefs she made her suffer.
+
+The Prince, on his side, was in no great Tranquillity; the Generosity of
+his Princess increas’d his Remorse, without diminishing his Love: he
+fear’d, and with reason, that those who were the occasion of
+_Constantia’s_ seeing those Verses, should discover his Passion to the
+King, from whom he hoped for no Indulgence: and he would most willingly
+have given his Life, to have been free from this Extremity.
+
+In the mean time the afflicted Princess languished in a most deplorable
+Sadness; she found nothing in those who were the Cause of her
+Misfortunes, but things fitter to move her Tenderness than her Anger: It
+was in vain that Jealousy strove to combat the Inclination she had to
+love her fair Rival; nor was there any occasion of making the Prince
+less dear to her: and she felt neither Hatred, nor so much as
+Indifference for innocent _Agnes_.
+
+While these three disconsolate Persons abandon’d themselves to their
+Melancholy, _Elvira_, not to leave her Vengeance imperfect, study’d in
+what manner she might bring it to the height of its Effects. Her
+Brother, on whom she depended, shew’d her a great deal of Friendship,
+and judging rightly that the Love of _Don Pedro_ to _Agnes de Castro_
+would not be approved by the King, she acquainted _Don Alvaro_ her
+Brother with it, who was not ignorant of the Passion the Prince had once
+protested to have for his Sister. He found himself very much interested
+in this News, from a second Passion he had for _Agnes_; which the
+Business of his Fortune had hitherto hindred him from discovering: and
+he expected a great many Favours from the King, that might render the
+Effort of his Heart the more considerable.
+
+He hid not from his Sister this one thing, which he found difficult to
+conceal; so that she was now possest with a double Grief, to find
+_Agnes_ Sovereign of all the Hearts to which she had a pretension.
+
+_Don Alvaro_ was one of those ambitious Men, that are fierce without
+Moderation, and proud without Generosity; of a melancholy, cloudy
+Humour, of a cruel Inclination, and to effect his Ends, found nothing
+difficult or unlawful. Naturally he lov’d not the Prince, who, on all
+accounts, ought to have held the first Rank in the Heart of the King,
+which should have set bounds to the Favour of _Don Alvaro_; who when he
+knew the Prince was his Rival, his Jealousy increas’d his Hate of him:
+and he conjured _Elvira_ to employ all her Care, to oppose an Engagement
+that could not but be destructive to them both; she promised him, and he
+not very well satisfy’d, rely’d on her Address.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who had too lively a Representation within himself, of the
+Beauties and Grace of the Prince of _Portugal_, thought of nothing, but
+how to combat his Merits, he himself not being handsome, or well made:
+His Fashion was as disagreeable as his Humour, and _Don Pedro_ had all
+the Advantages that one Man may possibly have over another. In fine, all
+that _Don Alvaro_ wanted, adorn’d the Prince: but as he was the Husband
+of _Constantia_, and depended upon an absolute Father, and that _Don
+Alvaro_ was free, and Master of a good Fortune, he thought himself more
+assur’d of _Agnes_, and fixed his Hopes on that Thought.
+
+He knew very well, that the Passion of _Don Pedro_ could not but inspire
+a violent Anger in the Soul of the King. Industrious in doing ill, his
+first Business was to carry this unwelcome News to him. After he had
+given time to his Grief, and had compos’d himself to his Desire, he then
+besought the King to interest himself in his amorous Affair, and to be
+the Protector of his Person.
+
+Tho’ _Don Alvaro_ had no other Merit to recommend him to the King, than
+a continual and blind Obedience to all his Commands; yet he had favour’d
+him with several Testimonies of his vast Bounty: and considering the
+Height to which the King’s Liberality had rais’d him, there were few
+Ladies that would have refused his Alliance. The King assured him of the
+Continuation of his Friendship and Favour, and promised him, if he had
+any Authority, he would give him the charming _Agnes_.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, perfectly skilful in managing his Master, answer’d the
+King’s last Bounties with a profound Submission. He had yet never told
+_Agnes_ what he felt for her; but he thought now he might make a publick
+Declaration of it, and sought all means to do it.
+
+The Gallantry which _Coimbra_ seem’d to have forgotten, began now to be
+awakened. The King to please _Don Alvaro_, under pretence of diverting
+_Constantia_, order’d some publick Sports, and commanded that every
+thing should be magnificent.
+
+Since the Adventure of the Verses, _Don Pedro_ endeavour’d to lay a
+constraint on himself, and to appear less troubled; but in his heart he
+suffer’d always alike: and it was not but with great uneasiness he
+prepar’d himself for the Tournament. And since he could not appear with
+the Colours of _Agnes_, he took those of his Wife, without Device, or
+any great Magnificence.
+
+_Don Pedro_ adorn’d himself with the Liveries of _Agnes de Castro_; and
+this fair Maid, who had yet found no Consolation from what the Princess
+had told her, had this new cause of being displeas’d.
+
+_Don Pedro_ appear’d in the List with an admirable Grace; and _Don
+Alvaro_, who looked on this Day as his own, appear’d there all shining
+with Gold, mix’d with Stones of Blue, which were the Colours of _Agnes_;
+and there were embroider’d all over his Equipage, flaming Hearts of Gold
+on blue Velvet, and Nets for the Snares of Love, with abundance of
+double _A’s_; his Device was a Love coming out of a Cloud, with these
+Verses written underneath:
+
+  _Love from a Cloud breaks like the God of Day,
+  And to the World his Glories does display;
+  To gaze on charming Eyes, and make ’em know,
+  What to soft Hearts, and to his Power they owe._
+
+The Pride of _Don Alvaro_ was soon humbled at the feet of the Prince of
+_Portugal_, who threw him against the Ground, with twenty others, and
+carry’d alone the Glory of the Day. There was in the Evening a noble
+Assembly at _Constantia’s_, where _Agnes_ would not have been, unless
+expresly commanded by the Princess. She appear’d there all negligent and
+careless in her Dress, but yet she appear’d all beautiful and charming.
+She saw, with disdain, her Name, and her Colours, worn by _Don Alvaro_,
+at a publick Triumph; and if her Heart was capable of any tender
+Motions, it was not for such a Man as he for whom her Delicacy destin’d
+them: She look’d on him with a Contempt, which did not hinder him from
+pressing so near, that there was a necessity for her to hear what he had
+to declare to her.
+
+She treated him not uncivilly, but her Coldness would have rebated the
+Courage of any but _Alvaro_. ‘Madam, said he, (when he could be heard of
+none but herself) I have hitherto concealed the Passion you have
+inspired me with, fearing it should displease you; but it has committed
+a Violence on my Respect; and I could no longer conceal it from you.
+I never reflected on your Actions (answer’d _Agnes_ with all the
+Indifference of which she was capable) and if you think you offend me,
+you are in the wrong to make me perceive it. This Coldness is but an ill
+Omen for me (reply’d _Don Alvaro_) and if you have not found me out to
+be your Lover to-day, I fear you will never approve my Passion.’
+
+‘Oh! what a time have you chosen to make it appear to me? (pursued
+_Agnes_.) Is it so great an Honour for me, that you must take such care
+to shew it to the World? And do you think that I am so desirous of
+Glory, that I must aspire to it by your Actions? If I must, you have
+very ill maintain’d it in the Tournament; and if it be that Vanity that
+you depend upon, you will make no great progress on a Soul that is not
+fond of Shame. If you were possest of all the Advantages, which the
+Prince has this day carried away, you yet ought to consider what you are
+going about; and it is not a Maid like me, who is touched with
+Enterprizes, without respect or permission.’
+
+The Favourite of the King was too proud to hear _Agnes_, without
+Indignation: but as he was willing to conceal it, and not offend her, he
+made not his Resentment appear; and considering the Observation she made
+on the Triumphs of _Don Pedro_, (which increased his Jealousies) ‘If I
+have not overcome at the Tournament, reply’d he, I am not the less in
+love for being vanquish’d, nor less capable of Success on occasion.’
+
+They were interrupted here, but from that day, _Don Alvaro_, who had
+open’d the first Difficulties, kept no more his wonted Distance, but
+perpetually persecuted _Agnes_; yet, tho’ he were protected by the King,
+that inspir’d in her never the more Consideration for him. _Don Pedro_
+was always ignorant by what means the Verses he had lost in the Garden,
+fell into the hands of _Constantia_. As the Princess appeared to him
+indulgent, he was only concerned for _Agnes_; and the love of _Don
+Alvaro_, which was then so well known, increas’d the Pain: and had he
+been possess’d of the Authority, he would not have suffer’d her to have
+been expos’d to the Persecutions of so unworthy a Rival. He was also
+afraid of the King’s being advertised of his Passion, but he thought not
+at all of _Elvira_, nor apprehended any Malice from her Resentment.
+
+While she burnt with a Desire of destroying _Agnes_, against whom she
+vented all her Venom, she was never weary of making new Reports to her
+Brother, assuring him, that tho’ they could not prove that _Agnes_ made
+any returns to the Tenderness of the Prince, yet that was the Cause of
+_Constantia’s_ Grief: And, that if this Princess should die of it, _Don
+Pedro_ might marry _Agnes_. In fine, she so incens’d the jealous _Don
+Alvaro’s_ Jealousy, that he could not hinder himself from running
+immediately to the King, with the discovery of all he knew, and all he
+guest, and who, he had the pleasure to find, was infinitely inrag’d at
+the News. ‘My dear _Alvaro_, said the King, you shall instantly marry
+this dangerous Beauty: And let Possession assure your Repose and mine.
+If I have protected you on other Occasions, judge what a Service of so
+great an Importance for me, would make me undertake; and without any
+reserve, the Forces of this State are in your power, and almost any
+thing that I can give shall be assured you, so you render your self
+Master of the Destiny of _Agnes_.’
+
+_Don Alvaro_ pleas’d, and vain with his Master’s Bounty, made use of all
+the Authority he gave him: He passionately lov’d _Agnes_, and would not,
+on the sudden, make use of Violence; but resolv’d with himself to employ
+all possible Means to win her fairly; yet if that fail’d, to have
+recourse to force, if she continued always insensible.
+
+While _Agnes de Castro_ (importun’d by his Assiduities, despairing at
+the Grief of _Constantia_, and perhaps made tender by those she had
+caus’d in the Prince of _Portugal_) took a Resolution worthy of her
+Virtue; yet, amiable as _Don Pedro_ was, she found nothing in him, but
+his being Husband to _Constantia_, that was dear to her: And, far from
+encouraging the Power she had got over his Heart, she thought of nothing
+but of removing from _Coimbra_. The Passion of _Don Alvaro_, which she
+had no inclination to favour, served her as a Pretext; and press’d with
+the fear of causing, in the end, a cruel Divorce between the Prince and
+his Princess, she went to find _Constantia_, with a trouble, which all
+her Care was not able to hide from her.
+
+The Princess easily found it out; and their common Misfortunes having
+not chang’d their Friendship--‘What ails you, _Agnes_? (said the
+Princess to her, in a soft Tone, and with her ordinary Sweetness) And
+what new Misfortune causes that sadness in thy Looks? Madam (reply’d
+_Agnes_, shedding a Rivulet of Tears) the Obligations and Ties I have to
+you, put me upon a cruel Tryal; I had bounded the Felicity of my Life in
+hope of passing it near your Highness, yet I must carry to some other
+part of the World this unlucky Face of mine, which renders me nothing
+but ill Offices: And it is to obtain that Liberty, that I am come to
+throw my self at your feet; looking upon you as my Sovereign.’
+
+_Constantia_ was so surpriz’d and touch’d with the Proposition of
+_Agnes_, that she lost her Speech for some moments; Tears, which were
+sincere, express’d her first Sentiments: And after having shed
+abundance, to give a new mark of her Tenderness to the fair afflicted
+_Agnes_, she with a sad and melancholy Look, fix’d her Eyes upon her,
+and holding out her Hand to her, in a most obliging manner, sighing,
+cry’d--‘You will then, my dear _Agnes_, leave me; and expose me to the
+Griefs of seeing you no more? Alas, Madam, (interrupted this lovely
+Maid) hide from the unhappy _Agnes_ a Bounty which does but increase her
+Misfortunes: It is not I, Madam, that would leave you; it is my Duty,
+and my Reason that orders my Fate. And those Days which I shall pass far
+from you, promise me nothing to oblige me to this Design, if I did not
+see my self absolutely forc’d to it. I am not ignorant of what passes at
+_Coimbra_; and I shall be an Accomplice of the Injustice there
+committed, if I should stay there any longer.--Ah, I know your Virtue,
+(cry’d _Constantia_) and you may remain here in all safety, while I am
+your Protectress; and let what will happen, I will accuse you of
+nothing. There’s no answering for what’s to come, (reply’d _Agnes_,
+sadly) and I shall be sufficiently guilty, if my Presence cause
+Sentiments, which cannot be innocent. Besides, Madam, the Importunities
+of _Don Alvaro_ are insupportable to me; and tho’ I find nothing but
+Aversion to him, since the King protects his Insolence, and he’s in a
+condition of undertaking any thing, my Flight is absolutely necessary.
+But, Madam, tho’ he has nothing but what seems odious to me; I call
+Heaven to witness, that if I could cure the Prince by marrying _Don
+Alvaro_, I would not consider of it a moment; and finding in my
+Punishment the Consolation of sacrificing my self to my Princess,
+I would support it without murmuring. But if I were the Wife of _Don
+Alvaro_, _Don Pedro_ would always look upon me with the same Eyes: So
+that I find nothing more reasonable for me, than to hide my self in some
+Corner of the World; where, tho’ I shall most certainly live without
+Pleasure, yet I shall preserve the Repose of my dearest Mistress. All
+the Reason you find in this Design, (answered the Princess) cannot
+oblige me to approve of your Absence: Will it restore me the Heart of
+_Don Pedro_? And will he not fly away with you? His Grief is mine, and
+my Life is ty’d to his; do not make him despair then, if you love me.
+I know you, I tell you so once more; and let your Power be ever so great
+over the Heart of the Prince, I will not suffer you to abandon us.’
+
+Tho’ _Agnes_ thought she had perfectly known _Constantia_, yet she did
+not expect to find so intire a Virtue in her, which made her think her
+self more happy, and the Prince more criminal. ‘Oh, Wisdom! Oh, Bounty
+without Example! (cry’d she) Why is it, that the cruel Destinies do not
+give you all you deserve? You are the disposer of my Actions, (continued
+she in kissing the Hand of _Constantia_) I’ll do nothing but what you’ll
+have me: But consider, and weigh well the Reasons that ought to counsel
+you in the Measures you oblige me to take.’
+
+_Don Pedro_, who had not seen the Princess all that day, came in then,
+and finding ’em both extremely troubled, with a fierce Impatience,
+demanded the Cause: ‘Sir, answered _Constantia_, _Agnes_ too wise, and
+too scrupulous, fears the Effects of her Beauty, and will live no longer
+at _Coimbra_; and it was on this Subject, (which cannot be agreeable
+to me) that she ask’d my Advice.’ The Prince grew pale at this
+Discourse, and snatching the Words from her Mouth (with more concern
+than possest either of them) cry’d with a Voice very feeble, ‘_Agnes_
+cannot fail if she follow your Counsel, Madam: and I leave you full
+liberty to give it her.’ He then immediately went out, and the Princess,
+whose Heart he perfectly possest, not being able to hide her
+Displeasure, said, ‘My dear _Agnes_, if my Satisfaction did not only
+depend on your Conversation, I should desire it of you, for _Don
+Pedro’s_ sake; it is the only Advantage that his unfortunate Love can
+hope: And would not the World have reason to call me barbarous, if I
+contribute to deprive him of that? But the sight of me will prove a
+Poison to him--(reply’d _Agnes_) And what should I do, my Princess, if
+after the Reserve he has hitherto kept, his Mouth should add anything to
+the Torments I have already felt, by speaking to me of his Flame? You
+would hear him sure, without causing him to despair, (reply’d
+_Constantia_) and I should put this Obligation to the account of the
+rest you have done. Would you then have me expect those Events which I
+fear, Madam? (reply’d _Agnes_) Well--I will obey, but just Heaven
+(pursued she) if they prove fatal, do not punish an innocent Heart for
+it.’ Thus this Conversation ended. _Agnes_ withdrew into her Chamber,
+but it was not to be more at ease.
+
+What _Don Pedro_ had learn’d of the Design of _Agnes_, caus’d a cruel
+Agitation in his Soul; he wished he had never loved her, and desir’d a
+thousand times to die: But it was not for him to make Vows against a
+thing which Fate had design’d him; and whatever Resolutions he made, to
+bear the Absence of _Agnes_, his Tenderness had not force enough to
+consent to it.
+
+After having, for a long time, combated with himself, he determined to
+do what was impossible for him to let _Agnes_ do. His Courage reproach’d
+him with the Idleness, in which he past the most youthful and vigorous
+part of his Days: and making it appear to the King, that his Allies, and
+even the Prince _Don John Emanuel_, his Father-in-law, had concerns in
+the World which demanded his Presence on the Frontiers, he easily
+obtain’d Liberty to make this Journey, to which the Princess would put
+no Obstacle.
+
+_Agnes_ saw him part without any Concern, but it was not upon the
+account of any Aversion she had to him. _Don Alvaro_ began then to make
+his Importunity an open Persecution; he forgot nothing that might touch
+the insensible _Agnes_, and made use, a long time, only of the Arms of
+Love: But seeing that this Submission and Respect was to no purpose, he
+form’d strange Designs.
+
+As the King had a deference for all his Counsels, it was not difficult
+to inspire him with what he had a mind to: He complain’d of the
+ungrateful _Agnes_, and forgot nothing that might make him perceive that
+she was not cruel to him on his account, but from the too much
+Sensibility she had for the Prince. The King, who was extreme angry at
+this, reiterated all the Promises he had made him.
+
+The King had not yet spoken to _Agnes_ in favour of _Don Alvaro_; and
+not doubting but his Approbation would surmount all Obstacles, he took
+an occasion to entertain her with it: And removing some distance from
+those who might hear him, ‘I thought _Don Alvaro_ had Merit enough (said
+he to her) to have obtained a little share in your Esteem; and I could
+not imagine there would have been any necessity of my solliciting it for
+him: I know you are very charming, but he has nothing that renders him
+unworthy of you; and when you shall reflect on the Choice my Friendship
+has made of him from among all the great Men of my Court, you will do
+him at the same time Justice. His Fortune is none of the meanest, since
+he has me for his Protector: He is nobly born, a Man of Honour and
+Courage: he adores you, and it seems to me that all these Reasons are
+sufficient to vanquish your Pride.’
+
+The Heart of _Agnes_ was so little disposed to give it self to _Don
+Alvaro_, that all the King of _Portugal_ had said had no effect on her
+in his favour. ‘If _Don Alvaro_, Sir, (answered she) were without Merit,
+he possesses Advantages enough in the Bounty your Majesty is pleased to
+honour him with, to make him Master of all things, it is not that I find
+any Defect in him that I answer not his Desires: But, Sir, by what
+obstinate Power would you that I should love, if Heaven has not given me
+a Soul that is tender? And why should you pretend that I should submit
+to him, when nothing is dearer to me than my liberty? You are not so
+free, nor so insensible, as you say, (answer’d the King, blushing with
+Anger;) and if your Heart were exempt from all sorts of Affection, he
+might expect a more reasonable Return than what he finds. But imprudent
+Maid, conducted by an ill Fate, (added he in fury) what Pretensions have
+you to _Don Pedro_? Hitherto I have hid the Chagrin, which his Weakness,
+and yours give me; but it was not the less violent for being hid. And
+since you oblige me to break out, I must tell you, that if my Son were
+not already married to _Constantia_, he should never be your Husband;
+renounce then those vain Ideas, which will cure him, and justify you.’
+
+The courageous _Agnes_ was scarce Mistress of the first Transports, at a
+Discourse so full of Contempt; but calling her Virtue to the aid of her
+Anger, she recover’d herself by the assistance of Reason: And
+considering the Outrage she receiv’d, not as coming from a great King,
+but a Man blinded and possest by _Don Alvaro_, she thought him not
+worthy of her Resentment; her fair Eyes animated themselves with so
+shining a vivacity, they answer’d for the purity of her Sentiments; and
+fixing them steadfastly on the King, ‘If the Prince _Don Pedro_ have
+Weaknesses, (reply’d she, with an Air disdainful) he never communicated
+’em to me; and I am certain, I never contributed wilfully to ’em: But to
+let you see how little I regard your Defiance, and to put my Glory in
+safety, I will live far from you, and all that belongs to you: Yes, Sir,
+I will quit _Coimbra_ with pleasure; and for this Man, who is so dear to
+you, (answer’d she with a noble Pride and Fierceness, of which the King
+felt all the force) for this Favourite, so worthy to possess the most
+tender Affections of a great Prince, I assure you, that into whatever
+part of the World Fortune conducts me, I will not carry away the least
+Remembrance of him.’ At these words she made a profound Reverence, and
+made such haste from his Presence, that he could not oppose her going if
+he would.
+
+The King was now more strongly convinc’d than ever, that she favour’d
+the Passion of _Don Pedro_, and immediately went to _Constantia_, to
+inspire her with the same Thought; but she was not capable of receiving
+such Impressions, and following her own natural Inclinations, she
+generously defended the Virtue of his Actions. The King, angry to see
+her so well intentioned to her Rival, whom he would have had her hated,
+reproached her with the sweetness of her Temper, and went thence to mix
+his Anger with _Don Alvaro’s_ Rage, who was totally confounded when he
+saw the Negotiation of his Master had taken no effect. The haughty Maid
+braves me then, Sir, said he to the King, and despises the Honour which
+your Bounty offered her! Why cannot I resist so fatal a Passion? But I
+must love her, in spite of my self; and if this Flame consume me, I can
+find no way to extinguish it. What can I further do for you, replied the
+King? Alas, Sir, answered _Don Alvaro_, I must do by force, what I
+cannot otherwise hope from the proud and cruel _Agnes_. Well then, added
+the King, since it is not fit for me to authorize publickly a Violence
+in the midst of my Kingdom, chuse those of my Subjects whom you think
+most capable of serving you, and take away by force the Beauty that
+charms you; and if she do not yield to your Love, put that Power you are
+Master of in execution, to oblige her to marry you.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, ravish’d with this Proposition, which at the same time
+flatter’d both his Love and his Anger, cast himself at the Feet of the
+King, and renewed his Acknowledgments by fresh Protestations, and
+thought of nothing but employing his unjust Authority against _Agnes_.
+
+_Don Pedro_ had been about three Months absent, when _Alvaro_ undertook
+what the King counselled him to; tho’ the Moderation was known to him,
+yet he feared his Presence, and would not attend the return of a Rival,
+with whom he would avoid all Disputes.
+
+One Night, when the said _Agnes_, full of her ordinary Inquietudes, in
+vain expected the God of Sleep, she heard a Noise, and after saw some
+Men unknown enter her Chamber, whose Measures being well consulted, they
+carried her out of the Palace, and putting her in a close Coach, forced
+her out of _Coimbra_, without being hinder’d by any Obstacle. She knew
+not of whom to complain, nor whom to suspect: _Don Alvaro_ seem’d too
+puissant to seek his Satisfaction this way; and she accus’d not the
+Prince of this attempt, of whom she had so favourable an Opinion:
+whatever she could think or say, she could not hinder her ill Fortune:
+They hurried her on with diligence, and before it was Day, were a
+considerable way off from the Town.
+
+As soon as Day began to break, she surveyed those that encompassed her,
+without so much as knowing one of them; and seeing that her Cries and
+Prayers were all in vain with these deaf Ravishers, she satisfied her
+self with imploring the Protection of Heaven, and abandon’d herself to
+its Conduct.
+
+While she sat thus overwhelmed with Grief, uncertain of her Destiny, she
+saw a Body of Horse advance towards the Troop which conducted her: the
+Ravishers did not shun them, thinking it to be _Don Alvaro_: but when he
+approached more near, they found it was the Prince of _Portugal_ who was
+at the head of ’em, and who, without foreseeing the occasion that would
+offer it self of serving _Agnes_, was returning to _Coimbra_ full of her
+Idea, after having performed what he ought in this Expedition.
+
+_Agnes_, who did not expect him, changed now her Opinion, and thought
+that it was the Prince that had caused her to be stolen away. ‘Oh, Sir!
+(said she to him, having still the same Thought) is it you that have
+torn me from the Princess? And could so cruel a Blow come from a Hand
+that is so dear to her? What will you do with an unfortunate Creature,
+who desires nothing but Death? And why will you obscure the Glory of
+your Life, by an Artifice unworthy of you?’ This Language astonish’d the
+Prince no less than the sight of _Agnes_ had done; he found by what she
+had said, that she was taken away by force; and immediately passing to
+the height of Rage, he made her understand by one only Look, that he was
+not the base Author of her trouble. ‘I tear you from _Constantia_, whose
+only Pleasure you are! replied he: What Opinion have you of _Don Pedro_?
+No, Madam, tho’ you see me here, I am altogether innocent of the
+Violence that has been done you; and there is nothing I will refuse to
+hinder it.’ He then turned himself to behold the Ravishers, but his
+Presence had already scatter’d ’em, he order’d some of his Men to pursue
+’em, and to seize some of ’em, that he might know what Authority it was
+that set ’em at work.
+
+During this, _Agnes_ was no less confus’d than before; she admir’d the
+Conduct of her Destiny, that brought the Prince at a time when he was so
+necessary to her. Her Inclinations to do him justice, soon repair’d the
+Offence her Suspicions had caus’d; she was glad to have escap’d a
+Misfortune, which appear’d certain to her: but this was not a sincere
+Joy, when she consider’d that her Lover was her Deliverer, and a Lover
+worthy of all her Acknowledgments, but who owed his Heart to the most
+amiable Princess in the World.
+
+While the Prince’s Men were pursuing the Ravishers of _Agnes_, he was
+left almost alone with her; and tho’ he had always resolv’d to shun
+being so, yet his Constancy was not proof against so fair an Occasion:
+‘Madam, said he to her, is it possible that Men born amongst those that
+obey us, should be capable of offending you? I never thought my self
+destin’d to revenge such an Offence; but since Heaven has permitted you
+to receive it, I will either perish or make them repent it.’ ‘Sir,
+replied _Agnes_, more concern’d at this Discourse than at the Enterprize
+of _Don Alvaro_, those who are wanting in their respect to the Princess
+and you, are not obliged to have any for me. I do not in the least doubt
+that _Don Alvaro_ was the undertaker of this Enterprize; and I judged
+what I ought to fear from him, by what his Importunities have already
+made me suffer. He is sure of the King’s Protection, and he will make
+him an Accomplice in his Crime: but, Sir, Heaven conducted you hither
+happily for me, and I am indebted to you for the liberty I have of
+serving the Princess yet longer.’ ‘You will do for _Constantia_, replied
+the Prince, what ’tis impossible not to do for you; your Goodness
+attaches you to her, and my Destiny engages me to you for ever.’
+
+The modest _Agnes_, who fear’d this Discourse as much as the Misfortune
+she had newly shunned, answer’d nothing but by down-cast Eyes; and the
+Prince, who knew the trouble she was in, left her to go to speak to his
+Men, who brought back one of those that belong’d to _Don Alvaro_, by
+whose Confession he found the truth: He pardon’d him, thinking not fit
+to punish him, who obey’d a Man whom the Weakness of his Father had
+render’d powerful.
+
+Afterwards they conducted _Agnes_ back to _Coimbra_, where her Adventure
+began to make a great Noise: the Princess was ready to die with Despair,
+and at first thought it was only a continuation of the design this fair
+Maid had of retiring; but some Women that served her having told the
+Princess, that she was carried away by Violence, _Constantia_ made her
+Complaint to the King, who regarded her not at all.
+
+‘Madam, said he to her, let this fatal Plague remove it self, who takes
+from you the Heart of your Husband; and without afflicting your self for
+her absence, bless Heaven and me for it.’
+
+The generous Princess took _Agnes’s_ part with a great deal of Courage,
+and was then disputing her defence with the King, when _Don Pedro_
+arrived at _Coimbra_.
+
+The first Object that met the Prince’s Eyes was _Don Alvaro_, who was
+passing thro’ one of the Courts of the Palace, amidst a Croud of
+Courtiers, whom his Favour with the King drew after him. This sight made
+_Don Pedro_ rage; but that of the Princess and _Agnes_ caus’d in
+_Alvaro_ another sort of Emotion: He easily divin’d, that it was _Don
+Pedro_, who had taken her from his Men, and, if his Fury had acted what
+it would, it might have produc’d very sad effects.
+
+‘_Don Alvaro_, said the Prince to him, is it thus you make use of the
+Authority which the King my Father hath given you? Have you receiv’d
+Employments and Power from him, for no other end but to do these base
+Actions, and to commit Rapes on Ladies? Are you ignorant how the
+Princess interests her self in all that concerns this Maid? And do you
+not know the tender and affectionate Esteem she has for her.’ No,
+replied _Don Alvaro_, (with an Insolence that had like to have put the
+Prince past all patience) ‘I am not ignorant of it, nor of the Interest
+your Heart takes in her.’ ‘Base and treacherous as thou art, replied the
+Prince, neither the Favour which thou hast so much abused, nor the
+Insolence which makes thee speak this, should hinder me from punishing
+thee, wert thou worthy of my Sword; but there are other ways to humble
+thy Pride, and ’tis not fit for such an Arm as mine to seek so base an
+Employment to punish such a Slave as thou art.’
+
+_Don Pedro_ went away at these Words, and left _Alvaro_ in a Rage, which
+is not to be express’d; despairing to see himself defeated in an
+Enterprize he thought so sure; and at the Contempt the Prince shewed
+him, he promis’d himself to sacrifice all to his Revenge.
+
+Tho’ the King lov’d his Son, he was so prepossessed against his Passion,
+that he could not pardon him what he had done, and condemn’d him as much
+for this last act of Justice, in delivering _Agnes_, as if it had been
+the greatest of Crimes.
+
+_Elvira_, whom the sweetness of Hope flatter’d some moments, saw the
+return of _Agnes_ with a sensible Displeasure, which suffer’d her to
+think of nothing but irritating her Brother.
+
+In fine, the Prince saw the King, but instead of being receiv’d by him
+with a Joy due to the success of his Journey, he appear’d all sullen and
+out of humour. After having paid him his first Respects, and given him
+an exact account of what he had done, he spoke to him about the Violence
+committed against the Person of _Agnes de Castro_, and complain’d to him
+of it in the Name of the Princess, and of his own: ‘You ought to be
+silent in this Affair, replied the King; and the Motive which makes you
+speak is so shameful for you, that I sigh and blush at it. What is it to
+you, if this Maid, whose Presence is troublesome to me, be removed
+hence, since ’tis I that desire it?’ ‘But, Sir, interrupted the Prince,
+what necessity is there of employing Force, Artifice, and the Night,
+when the least of your Orders had been sufficient? _Agnes_ would
+willingly have obey’d you; and if she continue at _Coimbra_, it is
+perhaps against her Will: but be it as it will, Sir, _Constantia_ is
+offended, and if were not for fear of displeasing you, (the only thing
+that retains me) the Ravisher should not have gone unpunished.’ ‘How
+happy are you, replied the King, smiling with disdain, in making use of
+the Name of _Constantia_ to uphold the Interest of your Heart! You think
+I am ignorant of it, and that this unhappy Princess looks on the Injury
+you do her with Indifference. Never speak to me more of _Agnes_, (with a
+Tone very severe.) Content your self, that I pardon what’s past, and
+think maturely of the Considerations I have for _Don Alvaro_, when you
+would design any thing against him.’ ‘Yes, Sir, replied the Prince with
+fierceness, I will speak to you no more of _Agnes_; but _Constantia_ and
+I will never suffer, that she should be any more expos’d to the
+Insolence of your Favourite.’ The King had like to have broke out into a
+Rage at this Discourse: but he had yet a rest of Prudence left that
+hinder’d him. ‘Retire (said he to _Don Pedro_) and go make Reflections
+on what my Power can do, and what you owe me.’
+
+During this Conversation, _Agnes_ was receiving from the Princess, and
+from all the Ladies of the Court, great Expressions of Joy and
+Friendship: _Constantia_ saw again her Husband, with a great deal of
+satisfaction: and far from being sorry at what he had lately done for
+_Agnes_, she privately return’d him thanks for it, and still was the
+same towards him, notwithstanding all the Jealousy which was endeavour’d
+to be inspir’d in her.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who found in his Sister a Maliciousness worthy of his
+trust, did not conceal his Fury from her. After she had made vain
+attempts to moderate it, in blotting _Agnes_ out of his Heart, seeing
+that his Disease was incurable, she made him understand, that so long as
+_Constantia_ should not be jealous, there were no hopes: That if _Agnes_
+should once be suspected by her, she would not fail of abandoning her,
+and that then it would be easy to get Satisfaction, the Prince being now
+so proud of _Constantia’s_ Indulgency. In giving this Advice to her
+Brother, she promis’d to serve him effectually; and having no need of
+any body but her self to perform ill things, she recommended _Don
+Alvaro_ to manage well the King.
+
+Four Years were pass’d in that melancholy Station, and the Princess,
+besides her first dead Child, and _Ferdinando_, who was still living,
+had brought two Daughters into the World.
+
+Some days after _Don Pedro’s_ return, _Elvira_, who was most dextrous in
+the Art of well-governing any wicked Design, did gain one of the
+Servants who belong’d to _Constantia’s_ Chamber. She first spoke her
+fair, then overwhelm’d her with Presents and Gifts; and finding in her
+as ill a Disposition as in her self, she readily resolv’d to employ her.
+
+After she was sure of her, she compos’d a Letter, which was after writ
+over again in an unknown Hand, which she deposited in that Maid’s Hands,
+that she might deliver to _Constantia_ with the first Opportunity,
+telling her, that _Agnes_ had drop’d it. This was the Substance of it:
+
+  _I Employ not my own Hand to write to you, for Reasons that I shall
+  acquaint you with. How happy am I to have overcome all your
+  Scruples! And what Happiness shall I find in the Progress of our
+  Intrigue! The whole Course of my Life shall continually represent to
+  you the Sincerity of my Affections; pray think on the secret
+  Conversation that I require of you: I dare not speak to you in
+  publick, therefore let me conjure you here, by all that I have
+  suffer’d, to come to-night to the Place appointed, and speak to me
+  no more of +Constantia+; for she must be content with my Esteem,
+  since my Heart can be only yours._
+
+The unfaithful _Portuguese_ serv’d _Elvira_ exactly to her Desires; and
+the very next day seeing _Agnes_ go out from the Princess, she carry’d
+_Constantia_ the Letter; which she took, and found there what she was
+far from imagining: Tenderness never produc’d an Effect more full of
+grief, than what it made her suffer. ‘Alas! they are both culpable,
+(said she, sighing) and in spite of the Defence my Heart would make for
+’em, my Reason condemns ’em. Unhappy Princess, the sad subject of the
+Capriciousness of Fortune! Why dost not thou die, since thou hast not a
+Heart of Honour to revenge it self? O _Don Pedro_! why did you give me
+your Hand, without your Heart? And thou, fair, and ungrateful! wert thou
+born to be the Misfortune of my Life, and perhaps the only cause of my
+Death?’ After having given some Moments to the Violence of her Grief,
+she called the Maid, who brought her the Letter, commanding her to speak
+of it to no body, and to suffer no one to enter into her Chamber.
+
+She consider’d then of that Prince with more liberty, whose Soul she was
+not able to touch with the least Tenderness; and of the cruel Fair One
+that had betray’d her: Yet, even while her Soul was upon the Rack, she
+was willing to excuse ’em, and ready to do all she could for _Don
+Pedro_; at least, she made a firm Resolution, not to complain of him.
+
+_Elvira_ was not long without being inform’d of what had pass’d, nor of
+the Melancholy of the Princess, from whom she hop’d all she desir’d.
+
+_Agnes_, far from foreseeing this Tempest, return’d to _Constantia_; and
+hearing of her Indisposition, pass’d the rest of the Day at her
+Chamber-door, that she might from time to time learn news of her Health:
+for she was not suffer’d to come in, at which _Agnes_ was both surpriz’d
+and troubled. The Prince had the same Destiny, and was astonish’d at an
+Order which ought to have excepted him.
+
+The next day _Constantia_ appear’d, but so alter’d, that ’twas not
+difficult to imagine what she had suffer’d. _Agnes_ was the most
+impatient to approach her, and the Princess could not forbear weeping,
+They were both silent for some time, and _Constantia_ attributed this
+silence of _Agnes_ to some Remorse which she felt: and this unhappy Maid
+being able to hold no longer; ‘Is it possible, Madam, (said she) that
+two Days should have taken from me all the Goodness you had for me? What
+have I done? And for what do you punish me?’ The Princess regarded her
+with a languishing Look, and return’d her no Answer but Sighs. _Agnes_,
+offended with this reserve, went out with very great Dissatisfaction and
+Anger; which contributed to her being thought criminal. The Prince came
+in immediately after, and found _Constantia_ more disorder’d than usual,
+and conjur’d her in a most obliging manner to take care of her Health:
+_The greatest good for me_ (said she) _is not the Continuation of my
+Life; I should have more care of it if I loved you less: but--_ She
+could not proceed; and the Prince, excessively afflicted at her trouble,
+sigh’d sadly, without making her any answer, which redoubled her Grief.
+Spite then began to mix it self; and all things persuading the Princess
+that they made a Sacrifice of her, she would enter into no Explanation
+with her Husband, but suffered him to go away without saying any thing
+to him.
+
+Nothing is more capable of troubling our Reason, and consuming our
+Health, than secret Notions of Jealousy in Solitude.
+
+_Constantia_, who us’d to open her Heart freely to _Agnes_, now
+believing she had deceiv’d her, abandon’d her self so absolutely to
+Grief, that she was ready to sink under it; she immediately fell sick
+with the violence of it, and all the Court was concern’d at this
+Misfortune: _Don Pedro_ was truly afflicted at it, but _Agnes_ more than
+all the World beside. _Constantia’s_ Coldness towards her, made her
+continually sigh; and her Distemper created merely by fancy, caus’d her
+to reflect on every thing that offer’d it self to her Memory: so that at
+last she began even to fear her self, and to reproach her self for what
+the Princess suffer’d.
+
+But the Distemper began to be such, that they fear’d _Constantia’s_
+Death, and she her self began to feel the Approaches of it. This Thought
+did not at all disquiet her: she look’d on Death as the only relief from
+all her Torments; and regarded the Despair of all that approach’d her
+without the least concern.
+
+The King, who lov’d her tenderly, and who knew her Virtue, was
+infinitely mov’d at the Extremity she was in. And _Don Alvaro_, who lost
+not the least Occasion of making him understand that it was Jealousy
+which was the cause of _Constantia’s_ Distemper, did but too much
+incense him against Criminals, worthy of Compassion. The King was not of
+a Temper to conceal his Anger long: ‘You give fine Examples, (said he to
+the Prince) and such as will render your Memory illustrious! The Death
+of _Constantia_ (of which you are only to be accus’d) is the unhappy
+Fruit of your guilty Passion. Fear Heaven after this: and behold your
+self as a Monster that does not deserve to see the Light. If the
+Interest you have in my Blood did not plead for you, what ought you not
+to fear from my just Resentment? But what must not imprudent _Agnes_, to
+whom nothing ties me, expect from my hands? If _Constantia_ dies, she,
+who has the Boldness, in my Court, to cherish a foolish Flame by vain
+Hopes, and make us lose the most amiable Princess, whom thou art not
+worthy to possess, shall feel the Effects of her Indiscretion.’
+
+_Don Pedro_ knew very well, that _Constantia_ was not ignorant of his
+Sentiments for _Agnes_; but he knew also with what Moderation she
+receiv’d it: He was very sensible of the King’s Reproaches; but as his
+Fault was not voluntary, and that a commanding Power, a fatal Star, had
+forc’d him to love in spite of himself, he appear’d afflicted and
+confus’d: ‘You condemn me, Sir, (answer’d he) without having well
+examin’d me; and if my Intentions were known to you; perhaps you would
+not find me so criminal: I would take the Princess for my Judge, whom
+you say I sacrifice, if she were in a condition to be consulted. If I am
+guilty of any Weakness, her Justice never reproach’d me for it; and my
+Tongue never inform’d _Agnes_ of it. But suppose I have committed any
+Fault, why would you punish an innocent Lady, who perhaps condemns me
+for it as much as you? Ah, Villain! (interrupted the King) she has but
+too much favour’d you: You would not have lov’d thus long, had she not
+made you some Returns. Sir, (reply’d the Prince, pierced with Grief for
+the Outrage that was committed against _Agnes_) you offend a Virtue,
+than which nothing can be purer; and those Expressions which break from
+your Choler, are not worthy of you. _Agnes_ never granted me any
+Favours; I never asked any of her; and I protest to Heaven, I never
+thought of any thing contrary to the Duty I owe _Constantia_.’
+
+As they thus argued, one of the Princess’s Women came all in Tears to
+acquaint _Don Pedro_, that the Princess was in the last Extremities of
+Life: ‘Go see thy fatal Work, (said the King) and expect from a too-long
+patient Father the Usage thou deservest.’
+
+The Prince ran to _Constantia_, whom he found dying, and _Agnes_ in a
+swoon, in the Arms of some of the Ladies. What caus’d this double
+Calamity, was, that _Agnes_, who could suffer no longer the Indifferency
+of the Princess, had conjur’d her to tell her what was her Crime, and
+either to take her Life from her, or restore her to her Friendship.
+
+_Constantia_, who found she must die, could no longer keep her secret
+Affliction from _Agnes_; and after some Words, which were a Preparation
+to the sad Explanation, she shewed her that fatal Billet, which _Elvira_
+had caus’d to be written: ‘Ah, Madam! (cry’d out the fair _Agnes_, after
+having read it) Ah, Madam! how many cruel Inquietudes had you spared me
+had you open’d your Heart to me with your wonted Bounty! ’Tis easy to
+see that this Letter is counterfeit, and that I have Enemies without
+Compassion. Could you believe the Prince so imprudent, to make use of
+any other Hand but his own, on an occasion like this? And do you believe
+me so simple to keep about me this Testimony of my Shame, with so little
+Precaution? You are neither betray’d by your Husband nor me; I attest
+Heaven, and those Efforts I have made to leave _Coimbra_. Alas, my dear
+Princess, how little have you known her, whom you have so much honoured?
+Do not believe that when I have justify’d my self, I will have any more
+Communication with the World: No, no; there will be no Retreat far
+enough from hence for me. I will take care to hide this unlucky Face,
+where it shall be sure to do no more harm.’
+
+The Princess touched at this Discourse, and the Tears of _Agnes_,
+press’d her hand, which she held in hers; and fixing Looks upon her
+capable of moving Pity in the most insensible Souls, ‘If I have
+committed any Offence, my dear _Agnes_, (answer’d she) Death, which I
+expect in a moment, shall revenge it. I ought also to protest to you,
+That I have not ceas’d loving you, and that I believe every thing you
+have said, giving you back my most tender Affections.’
+
+’Twas at this time that the Grief, which equally oppress’d ’em, put the
+Princess into such an Extremity, that they sent for the Prince. He came,
+and found himself almost without Life or Motion at this sight. And what
+secret Motive soever might call him to the aid of _Agnes_, ’twas to
+_Constantia_ he ran. The Princess, who finding her last Moments drawing
+on, by a cold Sweat that cover’d her all over; and finding she had no
+more business with Life, and causing those Persons she most suspected to
+retire, ‘Sir, (said she to _Don Pedro_) if I abandon Life without
+regret, it is not without Trouble that I part with you. But, Prince, we
+must vanquish when we come to die; and I will forget my self wholly, to
+think of nothing but of you. I have no Reproaches to make against you,
+knowing that ’tis Inclination that disposes Hearts, and not Reason.
+_Agnes_ is beautiful enough to inspire the most ardent Passion, and
+virtuous enough to deserve the first Fortunes in the World. I ask her,
+once more, pardon for the Injustice I have done her, and recommend her
+to you, as a Person most dear to me. Promise me, my dear Prince, before
+I expire, to give her my Place in your Throne: it cannot be better
+fill’d: you cannot chuse a Princess more perfect for your People, nor a
+better Mother for our little Children. And you my dear and faithful
+_Agnes_ (pursu’d she) listen not to a Virtue too scrupulous, that may
+make any opposition to the Prince of _Portugal_: Refuse him not a Heart
+of which he is worthy; and give him that Friendship which you had for
+me, with that which is due to his Merit. Take care of my little
+_Fernando_, and the two young Princesses: let them find me in you, and
+speak to them sometimes of me. Adieu, live both of you happy, and
+receive my last Embraces.’
+
+The afflicted _Agnes_, who had recover’d a little her Forces, lost them
+again a second time; Her Weakness was follow’d with Convulsions so
+vehement, that they were afraid of her Life; but _Don Pedro_ never
+removed from _Constantia_: ‘What, Madam (said he) you will leave me
+then; and you think ’tis for my Good. Alas, _Constantia_! if my Heart
+has committed an Outrage against you, your Virtue has sufficiently
+revenged you on me in spite of you. Can you think me so barbarous?’--As
+he was going on, he saw Death shut the Eyes of the most generous
+Princess for ever; and he was within a very little of following her.
+
+But what Loads of Grief did this bring upon _Agnes_, when she found in
+that Interval, wherein Life and Death were struggling in her Soul, that
+_Constantia_ was newly expir’d! She would then have taken away her own
+Life, and have let her Despair fully appear.
+
+At the noise of the Death of the Princess, the Town and the Palace were
+all in Tears. _Elvira_, who saw then _Don Pedro_ free to engage himself,
+repented of having contributed to the Death of _Constantia_; and
+thinking her self the Cause of it, promis’d in her Griefs never to
+pardon herself.
+
+She had need of being guarded several days together; during which time
+she fail’d not incessantly to weep. And the Prince gave all those days
+to deepest Mourning. But when the first Emotions were past, those of his
+Love made him feel that he was still the same.
+
+He was a long time without seeing _Agnes_; but this Absence of his
+served only to make her appear the more charming when he did see her.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who was afraid of the Liberty of the Prince, made new
+Efforts to move _Agnes de Castro_, who was now become insensible to
+every thing but Grief. _Elvira_, who was willing to make the best of the
+Design she had begun, consulted all her Womens Arts, and the Delicacy of
+her Wit, to revive the Flames with which the Prince once burnt for her:
+But his Constancy was bounded, and it was _Agnes_ alone that was to
+reign over his Heart. She had taken a firm Resolution, since the Death
+of _Constantia_, to pass the rest of her Days in a solitary Retreat. In
+spite of the precaution she took to hide this Design, the Prince was
+informed of it, and did all he was able to dispose his Constancy and
+Fortitude to it. He thought himself stronger than he really was; but
+after he had well consulted his Heart, he found but too well how
+necessary the Presence of _Agnes_ was to him. ‘Madam (said he to her one
+day, with a Heart big, and his Eyes in Tears) which Action of my Life
+has made you determine my Death? Tho’ I never told you how much I loved
+you, yet I am persuaded you are not ignorant of it. I was constrained to
+be silent during some Years for your sake, for _Constantia’s_, and my
+own; but ’tis not possible for me to put this force upon my Heart for
+ever: I must once at least tell you how it languishes. Receive then the
+Assurances of a Passion, full of Respect and Ardour, with an offer of my
+Fortune, which I wish not better, but for your advantage.’
+
+_Agnes_ answer’d not immediately to these words, but with abundance of
+Tears; which having wiped away, and beholding _Don Pedro_ with an air
+which made him easily comprehend she did not agree with his Desires; ‘If
+I were capable of the Weakness with which you’d inspire me, you’d be
+obliged to punish me for it: What! (said she) _Constantia_ is scarce
+bury’d, and you would have me offend her! No, my Prince (added she with
+more Softness) no, no, she whom you have heap’d so many Favours on, will
+not call down the Anger of Heaven, and the Contempt of Men upon her, by
+an Action so perfidious. Be not obstinate then in a Design in which I
+will never shew you Favour. You owe to _Constantia_, after her Death,
+a Fidelity that may justify you: and I, to repair the Ills I have made
+her suffer ought to shun all converse with you.’ ‘Go, Madam (reply’d the
+Prince, growing pale) go, and expect the News of my Death; in that part
+of the World, whither your Cruelty shall lead you, the News shall follow
+close after; you shall quickly hear of it: and I will go seek it in
+those Wars which reign among my Neighbours.’
+
+These Words made the fair _Agnes de Castro_ perceive that her Innocency
+was not so great as she imagined, and that her Heart interested it self
+in the Preservation of _Don Pedro_: ‘You ought, Sir, to preserve your
+Life (reply’d _Agnes_) for the sake of the little Prince and Princesses,
+which _Constantia_ has left you. Would you abandon their Youth
+(continued she, with a tender Tone) to the Cruelty of _Don Alvaro_?
+Live! Sir, live! and let the unhappy _Agnes_ be the only Sacrifice.’
+‘Alas, cruel Maid! (interrupted _Don Pedro_) Why do you command me to
+live, if I cannot live with you? Is it an effect of your Hatred?’ ‘No,
+Sir, (reply’d _Agnes_) I do not hate you; and I wish to God that I could
+be able to defend my self against the Weakness with which I find my self
+possess’d. Oblige me to say no more, Sir: you see my Blushes, interpret
+them as you please: but consider yet, that the less Aversion I find I
+have to you, the more culpable I am; and that I ought no more to see, or
+speak to you. In fine, Sir, if you oppose my Retreat, I declare to you,
+that _Don Alvaro_, as odious as he is to me, shall serve for a Defence
+against you; and that I will sooner consent to marry a Man I abhor, than
+to favour a Passion that cost _Constantia_ her Life.’ ‘Well then,
+_Agnes_ (reply’d the Prince, with Looks all languishing and dying)
+follow the Motions which barbarous Virtue inspires you with; take these
+Measures you judge necessary against an unfortunate Lover, and enjoy the
+Glory of having cruelly refused me.’
+
+At these Words he went away; and troubled as _Agnes_ was, she would not
+stay him: Her Courage combated with her Grief, and she thought now, more
+than ever, of departing.
+
+’Twas difficult for her to go out of _Coimbra_; and not to defer what
+appear’d to her so necessary, she went immediately to the Apartment of
+the King, notwithstanding the Interest of _Don Alvaro_. The King
+received her with a Countenance severe, not being able to consent to
+what she demanded: _You shall not go hence, +(said he)+ and if you are
+wise, you shall enjoy here with +Don Alvaro+ both my Friendship and my
+Favour. I have taken another Resolution (+answer’d+ Agnes) and the World
+has no part in it. You will accept +Don Pedro (reply’d the King)+ his
+Fortune is sufficient to satisfy an ambitious Maid: but you will not
+succeed +Constantia+, who lov’d you so tenderly; and +Spain+ has
+Princesses enough to fill up part of the Throne which I shall leave him.
+Sir, (+reply’d+ Agnes, +piqu’d at this Discourse+) if I had a
+Disposition to love, and a Design to marry, perhaps the Prince might be
+the only Person on whom I would fix it: And you know, if my Ancestors
+did not possess Crowns, yet they were worthy to wear ’em. But let it be
+how it will, I am resolved to depart, and to remain no longer a Slave in
+a Place to which I came free._
+
+This bold Answer, which shew’d the Character of _Agnes_, anger’d and
+astonished the King. _You shall go when we think fit +(reply’d he)+ and
+without being a Slave at +Coimbra+, you shall attend our order._
+
+_Agnes_ saw she must stay, and was so griev’d at it, that she kept her
+Chamber several days, without daring to inform herself of the Prince;
+and this Retirement spared her the Affliction of being visited by _Don
+Alvaro_.
+
+During this, _Don Pedro_ fell sick, and was in so great danger, that
+there was a general apprehension of his Death. _Agnes_ did not in the
+least doubt, but it was an effect of his Discontent: she thought at
+first she had Strength and Resolution enough to see him die, rather than
+to favour him; but had she reflected a little, she had soon been
+convinc’d to the contrary. She found not in her Heart that cruel
+Constancy she thought there so well established: She felt Pains and
+Inquietude, shed Tears, made Wishes; and, in fine, discover’d that she
+lov’d.
+
+’Twas impossible to see the Heir of the Crown, a Prince that deserved so
+well, even at the point of Death, without a general Affliction. The
+People who loved him, pass’d whole days at the Palace-gate to hear News
+of him: The Court was all over-whelm’d with Grief.
+
+_Don Alvaro_ knew very well how to conceal a malicious Joy, under an
+Appearance of Sadness. _Elvira_, full of Tenderness, and perhaps of
+Remorse, suffer’d also on her side. The King, altho’ he condemned the
+Love of his Son, yet still had a Tenderness for him, and could not
+resolve to lose him. _Agnes de Castro_, who knew the Cause of his
+Distemper, expected the End of it with strange Anxieties: In fine, after
+a Month had pass’d away in Fears, they began to have a little hopes of
+his Recovery. The Prince and _Don Alvaro_ were the only Persons that
+were not glad of it: But _Agnes_ rejoic’d enough for all the rest.
+
+_Don Pedro_, seeing that he must live whether he wou’d or no, thought of
+nothing but passing his days in melancholy and discontent: As soon as he
+was in a condition to walk, he sought out the most solitary Places, and
+gain’d so much upon his own Weakness, to go every where, where _Agnes_
+was not; but her Idea followed him always, and his Memory, faithful to
+represent her to him with all her Charms, render’d her always dangerous.
+
+One day, when they had carry’d him into the Garden, he sought out a
+Labyrinth which was at the farthest part of it, to hide his Melancholy,
+during some hours; there he found the sad _Agnes_, whom Grief, little
+different from his, had brought thither; the sight of her whom he
+expected not, made him tremble: She saw by his pale and meagre Face the
+remains of his Distemper; his Eyes full of Languishment troubled her,
+and tho’ her Desire was so great to have fled from him, an unknown Power
+stopt her, and ’twas impossible for her to go.
+
+After some Moments of Silence, which many Sighs interrupted, _Don Pedro_
+rais’d himself from the Place where his Weakness had forced him to sit;
+he made _Agnes_ see, as he approach’d her, the sad Marks of his
+Sufferings: and not content with the Pity he saw in her Eyes, _You have
+resolved my Death then, cruel +Agnes+, +(said he)+ my desire was the
+same with yours; but Heaven has thought fit to reserve me for other
+Misfortunes, and I see you again, as unhappy, but more in love than
+ever._
+
+There was no need of these Words to move _Agnes_ to compassion, the
+Languishment of the Prince spoke enough; and the Heart of this fair Maid
+was but too much disposed to yield it self: She thought then that
+_Constantia_ ought to be satisfy’d; Love, which combated for _Don
+Pedro_, triumphed over Friendship, and found that happy Moment, for
+which the Prince of _Portugal_, had so long sighed.
+
+_Do not reproach me, for that which has cost me more than you, Sir,
++(replied she)+ and do not accuse a Heart, which is neither ingrateful
+nor barbarous: and I must tell you, that I love you. But now I have made
+you that Confession, what is it farther that you require of me?_ _Don
+Pedro_, who expected not a Change so favourable, felt a double
+Satisfaction; and falling at the Feet of _Agnes_, he express’d more by
+the Silence his Passion created, than he could have done by the most
+eloquent Words.
+
+After having known all his good Fortune, he then consulted with the
+amiable _Agnes_, what was to be feared from the King; they concluded
+that the cruel Billet, which so troubled the last days of _Constantia_,
+could come from none but _Elvira_ and _Don Alvaro_. The Prince, who knew
+that his Father had searched already an Alliance for him, and was
+resolv’d on his Favourite’s marrying _Agnes_, conjur’d her so tenderly
+to prevent these Persecutions, by consenting to a secret Marriage, that,
+after having a long time consider’d, she at last consented. _I will do
+what you will have me_ (said she) _tho’ I presage nothing but fatal
+Events from it; all my Blood turns to Ice, when I think of this
+Marriage, and the Image of +Constantia+ seems to hinder me from
+doing it._
+
+The amorous Prince surmounted all her Scruples, and separated himself
+from _Agnes_, with a Satisfaction which soon redoubled his Forces; he
+saw her afterward with the Pleasure of a Mystery: And the Day of their
+Union being arrived, _Don Gill_, Bishop of _Guarda_, performed the
+Ceremony of the Marriage, in the Presence of several Witnesses, faithful
+to _Don Pedro_, who saw him Possessor of all the Charms of the fair
+_Agnes_.
+
+She lived not the more peaceable for belonging to the Prince of
+_Portugal_; her Enemies, who continually persecuted her, left her not
+without Troubles: and the King, whom her Refusal inrag’d, laid his
+absolute Commands on her to marry _Don Alvaro_, with Threats to force
+her to it, if she continu’d rebellious.
+
+The Prince took loudly her part; and this, join’d to the Refusal he made
+of marrying the Princess of _Arragon_, caus’d Suspicions of the Truth in
+the King his Father. He was seconded by those that were too much
+interested, not to unriddle this Secret. _Don Alvaro_ and his Sister
+acted with so much care, gave so many Gifts, and made so many Promises,
+that they discover’d the secret Engagements of _Don Pedro_ and _Agnes_.
+
+The King wanted but little of breaking out into all the Rage and Fury so
+great a Disappointment could inspire him with, against the Princess.
+_Don Alvaro_, whose Love was changed into the most violent Hatred,
+appeased the first Transports of the King, by making him comprehend,
+that if they could break the Marriage of ’em, that would not be a
+sufficient Revenge; and so poison’d the Soul of the King, to consent to
+the Death of _Agnes_.
+
+The barbarous _Don Alvaro_ offered his Arm for this terrible Execution,
+and his Rage was Security for the Sacrifice.
+
+The King, who thought the Glory of his Family disgraced by this
+Alliance, and his own in particular in the Procedure of his Son, gave
+full Power to this Murderer, to make the innocent _Agnes_ a Victim to
+his Rage.
+
+It was not easy to execute this horrid Design: Tho’ the Prince saw
+_Agnes_ but in secret, yet all his Cares were still awake for her, and
+he was marry’d to her above a Year, before _Don Alvaro_ could find out
+an opportunity so long sought for.
+
+The Prince diverted himself but little, and very rarely went far from
+_Coimbra_; but on a Day, an unfortunate Day, and marked out by Heaven
+for an unheard-of and horrid Assassination, he made a Party to hunt at a
+fine House, which the King of _Portugal_ had near the City.
+
+_Agnes_ lov’d every thing that gave the Prince satisfaction; but a
+secret Trouble made her apprehend some Misfortune in this unhappy
+Journey. _Sir_, (said she to him, alarm’d, without knowing the Reason
+why) _I tremble, seeing you today as it were designed the last of my
+Life: Preserve your self, my dear Prince; and tho’ the Exercise you take
+be not very dangerous, beware of the least Hazards, and bring me back
+all that I trust with you. Don Pedro_, who had never found her so
+handsome and so charming before, embraced her several times, and went
+out of the Palace with his Followers, with a Design not to return till
+the next Day.
+
+He was no sooner gone, but the cruel _Don Alvaro_ prepared himself for
+the Execution he had resolv’d on; he thought it of that importance, that
+it required more Hands than his own, and so chose for his Companions
+_Don Lopez Pacheo_, and _Pedro Cuello_, two Monsters like himself, whose
+Cruelty he was assur’d of by the Presents he had made ’em.
+
+They waited the coming of the Night, and the lovely _Agnes_ was in her
+first Sleep, which was the last of her Life, when these Assassins
+approach’d her Bed. Nothing made resistance to _Don Alvaro_, who could
+do every thing, and whom the blackest Furies introduced to _Agnes_; she
+waken’d, and opening her Curtains, saw, by the Candle burning in her
+Chamber, the Ponyard with which _Don Alvaro_ was armed; he having his
+Face not cover’d, she easily knew him, and forgetting herself, to think
+of nothing but the Prince: _Just Heaven_ (said she, lifting up her fine
+Eyes) _if you will revenge +Constantia+, satisfy your self with my Blood
+only, and spare that of_ Don Pedro. The barbarous Man that heard her,
+gave her not time to say more; and finding he could never (by all he
+could do by Love) touch the Heart of the fair _Agnes_, he pierc’d it
+with his Ponyard: his Accomplices gave her several Wounds, tho’ there
+was no necessity of so many to put an end to an innocent Life.
+
+What a sad Spectacle was this for those who approach’d her Bed the next
+day! And what dismal News was this to the unfortunate Prince of
+_Portugal_! He returned to _Coimbra_ at the first report of this
+Adventure, and saw what had certainly cost him his Life, if Men could
+die of Grief. After having a thousand times embraced the bloody Body of
+_Agnes_, and said all that a just Despair could inspire him with, he ran
+like a Mad-man into the Palace, demanding the Murderers of his Wife, of
+things that could not hear him. In fine, he saw the King, and without
+observing any respect, he gave a loose to his Resentment: after having
+rail’d a long time, overwhelm’d with Grief, he fell into a Swoon, which
+continu’d all that day. They carry’d him into his Apartment: and the
+King, believing that his Misfortune would prove his Cure, repented not
+of what he had permitted.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, and the two other Assassins, quitted _Coimbra_. This
+Absence of theirs made ’em appear guilty of the Crime; for which the
+afflicted Prince vow’d a speedy Vengeance to the Ghost of his lovely
+_Agnes_, resolving to pursue them to the uttermost part of the Universe;
+He got a considerable number of Men together, sufficient to have made
+resistance, even to the King of _Portugal_ himself, if he should yet
+take the part of the Murderers: with these he ravaged the whole Country,
+as far as the _Duero_ Waters, and carry’d on a War, even till the Death
+of the King, continually mixing Tears with Blood, which he gave to the
+revenge of his dearest _Agnes_.
+
+
+Such was the deplorable End of the unfortunate Love of _Don Pedro_ of
+_Portugal_, and of the fair _Agnes de Castro_, whose Remembrance he
+faithfully preserv’d in his Heart, even upon the Throne, to which he
+mounted by the Right of his Birth, after the Death of the King.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; OR, THE FAIR VOW-BREAKER.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+In the Epistle Dedicatory to Antony Hammond, Esq., of Somersham-Place,
+prefacing that pathetic tragedy, _The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent
+Adultery_[1] (4to, 1694), Southerne writes: ‘I took the Hint of the
+Tragical part of this Play from a Novel of Mrs. _Behn’s_, call’d _The
+Fair Vow-Breaker_; you will forgive me for calling it a Hint, when you
+find I have little more than borrow’d the Question, how far such a
+Distress was to be carry’d, upon the Misfortune of a Woman’s having
+innocently two Husbands, at the same time’.
+
+In the many collected editions of Mrs. Behn’s popular novels and
+histories, from the first, published under the auspices of Gildon in
+1696, to the ninth (2 vols, 12mo, London, 1751), there appears, however,
+no such novel as _The Fair Vow-Breaker_, but on the other hand all
+contain _The Nun; or, the Perjur’d Beauty_. For over two hundred years
+then, critics, theatrical historians, bibliographers alike have laid
+down that _The Fair Vow-Breaker_ is merely another title for _The Nun;
+or, The Perjur’d Beauty_, and that it is to this romance we must look
+for the source of Southerne’s tragedy. The slight dissimilarity of name
+was truly of no great account. On the title-page of another novel we
+have _The Fair Jilt; or, The History of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_; on
+the half-title of the same _The Fair Hypocrite; or, The Amours of Prince
+Tarquin and Miranda_ (12mo, 1688). And so Thomas Evans in the preface to
+his edition of Southerne (3 vols, 1774), writing the dramatist’s life,
+says: ‘the plot by the author’s confession is taken from a novel of Mrs.
+Behn’s called _The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_’. All the modern
+writers have duly, but wrongly, accepted this; and Miss Charlotte E.
+Morgan in her monograph, _The English Novel till 1749_, informs us in
+more than one place that _The Fair Vow-Breaker_ (12mo, 1689) was the
+name of the editio princeps of _The Nun; or, The Perjur’d Beauty_.
+
+A crux, however, was soon apparent. Upon investigation it is obvious
+that the plot of _The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_ has
+simply nothing in common with _The Nun; or, The Perjur’d Beauty_. Mrs.
+Behn’s Ardelia is a mere coquette who through her trifling with three
+different men is responsible for five deaths: her lovers’, Elvira’s, and
+her own. Isabella, Southerne’s heroine, on the other hand, falls a sad
+victim to the machinations of Carlos, her wicked brother-in-law. She is
+virtuous and constant; Ardelia is a jade capable of heartless treachery.
+Both novel and play end tragically it is true, but from entirely
+different motives and in a dissimilar manner. There is no likeness
+between them.
+
+Whence then did Southerne derive his plot, and what exactly did he mean
+by the statement that he owed ‘the Hint of the Tragical part’ of his
+drama to a novel of Mrs. Behn’s?
+
+Professor Paul Hamelius of Liège set out to solve the difficulty, and in
+a scholarly article (_Modern Language Review_, July, 1909), he marshals
+the facts and seeks a solution. ‘Among her [Mrs. Behn’s] collected
+novels’[2] he writes ‘there is one entitled _The Nun; or, The Perjur’d
+Beauty_ and Mr. Gosse has kindly informed me that the story is identical
+with _The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_ which appears in the editio
+princeps of 1689 (inaccessible to me).’ Unfortunately he can find no
+analogy and is obliged to draw attention to other sources. He points to
+_The Virgin Captive_, the fifth story in Roger L’Estrange’s _The Spanish
+Decameron_ (1687). Again: there is the famous legend of the lovers of
+Teruel as dramatized in 1638 by Juan Perez de Montalvan, _Los Amantes de
+Teruel_. An earlier comedia exists on the same subject written by A. Rey
+de Artieda, 1581, and yet another play by Tirso de Molina, 1635, based
+on Artieda. Hamelius was obviously not satisfied with his researches,
+and with a half-suggestion that Southerne may have merely intended to
+pay a compliment to his ‘literary friend Mrs. Behn,’ his conclusion is
+that ‘the question is naturally still open whether Southerne was not
+drawing from some more immediate source--possibly even from some lost
+version of the story by Mrs. Behn herself.’
+
+In the course of my preparing the present edition of Mrs. Behn’s
+complete works, Mr. Gosse, adding yet another to innumerable kindnesses
+and encouragements, entrusted me with a little volume[3] from his
+private library: _The History of the Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_
+(12mo, 1689, Licensed 22 October, 1688), and I soon found this to be the
+immediate source of Southerne’s tragedy, a totally different novel from
+_The Nun; or, The Perjur’d Beauty_, and one, moreover, which has never
+till now been included in any edition of Mrs. Behn’s works or, indeed,
+reprinted in any form. It were superfluous to compare novel and tragedy
+detail by detail. Many striking, many minor points are the same in each.
+In several instances the nomenclature has been preserved. The chief
+divergence is, of course, the main catastrophe. Mrs. Behn’s execution
+could ill have been represented on the boards, and Southerne’s heroine,
+the victim of villainies and intrigue, is, it must be confessed, an
+infinitely more pathetic figure than guilty Isabella in the romance.
+
+The story of a man returning after long absence and finding his spouse
+(or betrothed) wedded to another, familiarized to the generality of
+modern readers by Tennyson’s _Enoch Arden_, occurs in every shape and
+tongue. No. 69 of _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ is _L’Honneste femme à
+Deux Maris_.[4] A more famous exemplar we have in the _Decameron_, Day
+IV, Novella 8, whose rubric runs: ‘Girolamo ama la Salvestra: va,
+costretto da’ prieghi della madre, a Parigi: torna, e truovala maritata:
+entrale di nascoso in casa, e muorle allato; e portato in una chiesa,
+muore la Salvestra allata a lui.’
+
+Scenes of the amusing underplot of _The Fatal Marriage_ which contain
+some excellent comedy, Southerne took directly from _The Night Walker;
+or, The Little Thief_ (printed as Fletcher’s in 1640 and ‘corrected by
+Shirley’ in 1633 according to Herbert’s license). The purgatorial farce
+may be traced to the _Decameron_, Day III, 8. ‘Ferondo, mangiata certa
+polvere, è sotterrato per morto: e dall’ abate, chi la moglie di lui si
+gode, tratto dalla sepoltura, è messo in prigione e fattogli credere,
+che egli è in purgatoro; e poi risuscitato . . .’ It is the _Feronde;
+ou, le Purgatoire_ of La Fontaine.
+
+_The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_ long kept the stage.[5]
+On 2 December, 1757, Garrick’s version, which omitting the comic relief
+weakens and considerably shortens the play, was produced at Drury Lane
+with himself as Biron and Mrs. Cibber as Isabella. The actual name of
+the tragedy, however, was not changed to _Isabella_ till some years
+after. Mrs. Barry, the original Isabella, was acknowledged supreme in
+this tragedy, and our greatest actresses, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. Crawford,
+Miss Young, Mrs. Siddons, Miss O’Neill, have all triumphed in the rôle.
+
+    [Footnote 1: This has nothing to do with Scarron’s novel, _L’
+    Innocent Adultère_ which translated was so popular in the 17th and
+    18th centuries. Bellmour carried it in his pocket when he went
+    a-courting Laetitia, to the horror of old Fondlewife who
+    discovered the tome, (_The Old Batchelor_, 1693), and Lydia
+    Languish was partial to its perusal in 1775.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: Hamelius used the collected edition of 1705.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: It is interesting to note that the book originally
+    belonged to Scott’s friend and critic, Charles Kirkpatrick
+    Sharpe.]
+
+    [Footnote 4: Reproduced by Celio Malespini _Ducento Novelle_, No.
+    9 (Venice, 4to, 1609, but probably written about thirty years
+    before).]
+
+    [Footnote 5: A French prose translation of Southerne is to be
+    found in Vol. VIII of _Le Theâtre Anglois_, Londres, 1746. It is
+    entitled _L’Adultère Innocent_; but the comic underplot is very
+    sketchily analyzed, scene by scene, and the whole is very mediocre
+    withal.]
+
+
+
+
+  To the Most Illustrious Princess,
+  The Dutchess of Mazarine.
+
+  Madam,
+
+There are none of an Illustrious Quality, who have not been made, by
+some Poet or other, the Patronesses of his Distress’d Hero, or
+Unfortunate Damsel; and such Addresses are Tributes, due only to the
+most Elevated, where they have always been very well receiv’d, since
+they are the greatest Testimonies we can give, of our Esteem and
+Veneration.
+
+Madam, when I survey’d the whole Toor of Ladies at Court, which was
+adorn’d by you, who appear’d there with a Grace and Majesty, peculiar to
+Your Great Self only, mix’d with an irresistible Air of Sweetness,
+Generosity, and Wit, I was impatient for an Opportunity, to tell Your
+Grace, how infinitely one of Your own Sex ador’d You, and that, among
+all the numerous Conquest, Your Grace has made over the Hearts of Men,
+Your Grace had not subdu’d a more entire Slave; I assure you, Madam,
+there is neither Compliment nor Poetry, in this humble Declaration, but
+a Truth, which has cost me a great deal of Inquietude, for that Fortune
+has not set me in such a Station, as might justifie my Pretence to the
+honour and satisfaction of being ever near Your Grace, to view eternally
+that lovely Person, and hear that surprizing Wit; what can be more
+grateful to a Heart, than so great, and so agreeable, an Entertainment?
+And how few Objects are there, that can render it so entire a Pleasure,
+as at once to hear you speak, and to look upon your Beauty? A Beauty
+that is heighten’d, if possible, with an air of Negligence, in Dress,
+wholly Charming, as if your Beauty disdain’d those little Arts of your
+Sex, whose Nicety alone is their greatest Charm, while yours, Madam,
+even without the Assistance of your exalted Birth, begets an Awe and
+Reverence in all that do approach you, and every one is proud, and
+pleas’d, in paying you Homage their several ways, according to their
+Capacities and Talents; mine, Madam, can only be exprest by my Pen,
+which would be infinitely honour’d, in being permitted to celebrate your
+great Name for ever, and perpetually to serve, where it has so great an
+inclination.
+
+In the mean time, Madam, I presume to lay this little Trifle at your
+Feet; the Story is true, as it is on the Records of the Town, where it
+was transacted; and if my fair unfortunate VOW-BREAKER do not deserve
+the honour of your Graces Protection, at least, she will be found worthy
+of your Pity; which will be a sufficient Glory, both for her, and,
+
+    Madam,
+  Your Graces most humble,
+      and most obedient Servant,
+          A. BEHN.
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker.
+
+
+Of all the sins, incident to Human Nature, there is none, of which
+Heaven has took so particular, visible, and frequent Notice, and
+Revenge, as on that of _Violated Vows_, which never go unpunished; and
+the _Cupids_ may boast what they will, for the encouragement of their
+Trade of Love, that Heaven never takes cognisance of Lovers broken Vows
+and Oaths, and that ’tis the only Perjury that escapes the Anger of the
+_Gods_; But I verily believe, if it were search’d into, we should find
+these frequent Perjuries, that pass in the World for so many Gallantries
+only, to be the occasion of so many unhappy Marriages, and the cause of
+all those Misfortunes, which are so frequent to the Nuptiall’d Pair. For
+not one of a Thousand, but, either on his side, or on hers, has been
+perjur’d, and broke Vows made to some fond believing Wretch, whom they
+have abandon’d and undone. What Man that does not boast of the Numbers
+he has thus ruin’d, and, who does not glory in the shameful Triumph?
+Nay, what Woman, almost, has not a pleasure in Deceiving, taught,
+perhaps, at first, by some dear false one, who had fatally instructed
+her Youth in an Art she ever after practis’d, in Revenge on all those
+she could be too hard for, and conquer at their own Weapons? For,
+without all dispute, Women are by Nature more Constant and Just, than
+Men, and did not their first Lovers teach them the trick of Change, they
+would be _Doves_, that would never quit their Mate, and, like _Indian_
+Wives, would leap alive into the Graves of their deceased Lovers, and be
+buried quick with ’em. But Customs of Countries change even Nature her
+self, and long Habit takes her place: The Women are taught, by the Lives
+of the Men, to live up to all their Vices, and are become almost as
+inconstant; and ’tis but Modesty that makes the difference, and, hardly,
+inclination; so deprav’d the nicest Appetites grow in time, by bad
+Examples.
+
+But, as there are degrees of Vows, so there are degrees of Punishments
+for Vows, there are solemn Matrimonial Vows, such as contract and are
+the most effectual Marriage, and have the most reason to be so; there
+are a thousand Vows and Friendships, that pass between Man and Man, on a
+thousand Occasions; but there is another Vow, call’d a _Sacred Vow_,
+made to God only; and, by which, we oblige our selves eternally to serve
+him with all Chastity and Devotion: This Vow is only taken, and made, by
+those that enter into Holy Orders, and, of all broken Vows, these are
+those, that receive the most severe and notorious Revenges of God; and I
+am almost certain, there is not one Example to be produc’d in the World,
+where Perjuries of this nature have past unpunish’d, nay, that have not
+been persu’d with the greatest and most rigorous of Punishments. I could
+my self, of my own knowledge, give an hundred Examples of the fatal
+Consequences of the Violation of Sacred Vows; and who ever make it their
+business, and are curious in the search of such Misfortunes, shall find,
+as I say, that they never go unregarded.
+
+The young Beauty therefore, who dedicates her self to Heaven, and weds
+her self for ever to the service of God, ought, first, very well to
+consider the Self-denial she is going to put upon her youth, her fickle
+faithless deceiving Youth, of one Opinion to day, and of another to
+morrow; like Flowers, which never remain in one state or fashion, but
+bud to day, and blow by insensible degrees, and decay as imperceptibly.
+The Resolution, we promise, and believe we shall maintain, is not in our
+power, and nothing is so deceitful as human Hearts.
+
+I once was design’d an humble Votary in the House of Devotion, but
+fancying my self not endu’d with an obstinacy of Mind, great enough to
+secure me from the Efforts and Vanities of the World, I rather chose to
+deny my self that Content I could not certainly promise my self, than to
+languish (as I have seen some do) in a certain Affliction; tho’
+possibly, since, I have sufficiently bewailed that mistaken and
+inconsiderate Approbation and Preference of the false ungrateful World,
+(full of nothing but Nonsense, Noise, false Notions, and Contradiction)
+before the Innocence and Quiet of a Cloyster; nevertheless, I could
+wish, for the prevention of abundance of Mischiefs and Miseries, that
+Nunneries and Marriages were not to be enter’d into, ’till the Maid, so
+destin’d, were of a mature Age to make her own Choice; and that Parents
+would not make use of their justly assum’d Authority to compel their
+Children, neither to the one or the other; but since I cannot alter
+Custom, nor shall ever be allow’d to make new Laws, or rectify the old
+ones, I must leave the Young Nuns inclos’d to their best Endeavours, of
+making a Virtue of Necessity; and the young Wives, to make the best of a
+bad Market.
+
+In _Iper_, a Town, not long since, in the Dominions of the King of
+_Spain_, and now in possession of the King of _France_, there liv’d a
+Man of Quality, of a considerable Fortune, call’d, Count _Henrick de
+Vallary_, who had a very beautiful Lady, by whom, he had one Daughter,
+call’d _Isabella_, whose Mother dying when she was about two years old
+to the unspeakable Grief of the Count, her Husband, he resolv’d never to
+partake of any Pleasure more, that this transitory World could court him
+with, but determin’d, with himself, to dedicate his Youth, and future
+Days, to Heaven, and to take upon him Holy Orders; and, without
+considering, that, possibly, the young _Isabella_, when she grew to
+Woman, might have Sentiments contrary to those that now possest him, he
+design’d she should also become a Nun; However, he was not so positive
+in that Resolution, as to put the matter wholly out of her Choice, but
+divided his Estate; one half he carried with him to the Monastery of
+_Jesuits_, of which number, he became one; and the other half, he gave
+with _Isabella_, to the Monastery, of which, his only Sister was Lady
+_Abbess_, of the Order of St. _Augustine_; but so he ordered the matter,
+that if, at the Age of Thirteen, _Isabella_ had not a mind to take
+Orders, or that the Lady _Abbess_ found her Inclination averse to a
+Monastick Life, she should have such a proportion of the Revenue, as
+should be fit to marry her to a Noble Man, and left it to the discretion
+of the Lady _Abbess_, who was a Lady of known Piety, and admirable
+strictness of Life, and so nearly related to _Isabella_, that there was
+no doubt made of her Integrity and Justice.
+
+The little _Isabella_ was carried immediately (in her Mourning for her
+dead Mother) into the Nunnery, and was receiv’d as a very diverting
+Companion by all the young Ladies, and, above all, by her Reverend Aunt,
+for she was come just to the Age of delighting her Parents; she was the
+prettiest forward Pratler in the World, and had a thousand little Charms
+to please, besides the young Beauties that were just budding in her
+little Angel Face: So that she soon became the dear lov’d Favourite of
+the whole House; and as she was an Entertainment to them all, so they
+made it their study to find all the Diversions they could for the pretty
+_Isabella_; and as she grew in Wit and Beauty every day, so they fail’d
+not to cultivate her Mind; and delicate Apprehension, in all that was
+advantageous to her Sex, and whatever Excellency any one abounded in,
+she was sure to communicate it to the young _Isabella_, if one could
+Dance, another Sing, another play on this Instrument, and another on
+that; if this spoke one Language, and that another; if she had Wit, and
+she Discretion, and a third, the finest Fashion and Manners; all joyn’d
+to compleat the Mind and Body of this beautiful young Girl; Who, being
+undiverted with the less noble, and less solid, Vanities of the World,
+took to these Virtues, and excell’d in all; and her Youth and Wit being
+apt for all Impressions, she soon became a greater Mistress of their
+Arts, than those who taught her; so that at the Age of eight or nine
+Years, she was thought fit to receive and entertain all the great Men
+and Ladies, and the Strangers of any Nation, at the _Grate_; and that
+with so admirable a Grace, so quick and piercing a Wit, and so
+delightful and sweet a Conversation, that she became the whole Discourse
+of the Town, and Strangers spread her Fame, as prodigious, throughout
+the Christian World; for Strangers came daily to hear her talk, and
+sing, and play, and to admire her Beauty; and Ladies brought their
+Children, to shame ’em into good Fashion and Manners, with looking on
+the lovely young _Isabella_.
+
+The Lady _Abbess_, her Aunt, you may believe, was not a little proud of
+the Excellencies and Virtues of her fair _Niece_, and omitted nothing
+that might adorn her Mind; because, not only of the vastness of her
+Parts and Fame, and the Credit she would do her House, by residing there
+for ever; but also, being very loth to part with her considerable
+Fortune, which she must resign, if she returned into the World, she us’d
+all her Arts and Stratagems to make her become a _Nun_, to which all the
+fair Sisterhood contributed their Cunning, but it was altogether
+needless; her Inclination, the strictness of her Devotion, her early
+Prayers, and those continual, and innate Stedfastness, and Calm, she was
+Mistress of; her Ignorance of the World’s Vanities, and those that
+uninclos’d young Ladies count Pleasures and Diversions, being all
+unknown to her, she thought there was no Joy out of a _Nunnery_, and no
+Satisfactions on the other side of a _Grate_.
+
+The Lady _Abbess_, seeing, that of her self she yielded faster than she
+could expect; to discharge her Conscience to her Brother, who came
+frequently to visit his Darling _Isabella_, would very often discourse
+to her of the Pleasures of the World, telling her, how much happier she
+would think her self, to be the Wife of some gallant young Cavalier, and
+to have Coaches and Equipages; to see the World, to behold a thousand
+Rarities she had never seen, to live in Splendor, to eat high, and wear
+magnificent Clothes, to be bow’d to as she pass’d, and have a thousand
+Adorers, to see in time a pretty Offspring, the products of Love, that
+should talk, and look, and delight, as she did, the Heart of their
+Parents; but to all, her Father and the Lady _Abbess_ could say of the
+World, and its Pleasures, _Isabella_ brought a thousand Reasons and
+Arguments, so Pious, so Devout, that the _Abbess_ was very well pleased,
+to find her (purposely weak) Propositions so well overthrown; and gives
+an account of her daily Discourses to her Brother, which were no less
+pleasing to him; and tho’ _Isabella_ went already dress’d as richly as
+her Quality deserv’d, yet her Father, to try the utmost that the World’s
+Vanity could do, upon her young Heart, orders the most Glorious Clothes
+should be bought her, and that the Lady _Abbess_ should suffer her to go
+abroad with those Ladies of Quality, that were her Relations, and her
+Mother’s Acquaintance; that she should visit and go on the Toore, (that
+is, the Hide Park there) that she should see all that was diverting, to
+try, whether it were not for want of Temptation to Vanity, that made her
+leave the World, and love an inclos’d Life.
+
+As the Count had commanded, all things were performed; and _Isabella_
+arriving at her Thirteenth Year of Age, and being pretty tall of
+Stature, with the finest Shape that Fancy can create, with all the
+Adornment of a perfect brown-hair’d Beauty, Eyes black and lovely,
+Complexion fair; to a Miracle, all her Features of the rarest
+proportion, the Mouth red, the Teeth white, and a thousand Graces in her
+Meen and Air; she came no sooner abroad, but she had a thousand Persons
+fighting for love of her; the Reputation her Wit had acquir’d, got her
+Adorers without seeing her, but when they saw her, they found themselves
+conquer’d and undone; all were glad she was come into the World, of whom
+they had heard so much, and all the Youth of the Town dress’d only for
+_Isabella de Valerie_, that rose like a new Star that Eclips’d all the
+rest, and which set the World a-gazing. Some hop’d, and some despair’d,
+but all lov’d, while _Isabella_ regarded not their Eyes, their distant
+darling Looks of Love, and their signs of Adoration; she was civil and
+affable to all, but so reserv’d, that none durst tell her his Passion,
+or name that strange and abhorr’d thing, _Love_, to her; the Relations
+with whom she went abroad every day, were fein to force her out, and
+when she went, ’twas the motive of Civility, and not Satisfaction, that
+made her go; whatever she saw, she beheld with no admiration, and
+nothing created wonder in her, tho’ never so strange and Novel. She
+survey’d all things with an indifference, that tho’ it was not sullen,
+was far from Transport, so that her evenness of Mind was infinitely
+admir’d and prais’d. And now it was, that, young as she was, her Conduct
+and Discretion appear’d equal to her Wit and Beauty, and she encreas’d
+daily in Reputation, insomuch, that the Parents of abundance of young
+Noble Men, made it their business to endeavour to marry their Sons to so
+admirable and noble a Maid, and one, whose Virtues were the Discourse of
+all the World; the _Father_, the Lady _Abbess_, and those who had her
+abroad, were solicited to make an Alliance; for the Father, he would
+give no answer, but left it to the discretion of _Isabella_, who could
+not be persuaded to hear any thing of that nature; so that for a long
+time she refus’d her company to all those, who propos’d any thing of
+Marriage to her; she said, she had seen nothing in the World that was
+worth her Care, or the venturing the losing of Heaven for, and therefore
+was resolv’d to dedicate her self to that; that the more she saw of the
+World, the worse she lik’d it, and pity’d the Wretches that were
+condemn’d to it; that she had consider’d it, and found no one
+Inclination that forbad her immediate Entrance into a Religious Life; to
+which, her Father, after using all the Arguments he could, to make her
+take good heed of what she went about, to consider it well; and had
+urg’d all the Inconveniencies of Severe Life, Watchings, Midnight
+Risings in all Weathers and Seasons to Prayers, hard Lodging, course
+Diet, and homely Habit, with a thousand other things of Labour and Work
+us’d among the _Nuns_; and finding her still resolv’d and inflexible to
+all contrary persuasions, he consented, kiss’d her, and told her, She
+had argu’d according to the wish of his Soul, and that he never believ’d
+himself truly happy, till this moment that he was assur’d, she would
+become a Religious.
+
+This News, to the Heart-breaking of a thousand Lovers, was spread all
+over the Town, and there was nothing but Songs of Complaint, and of her
+retiring, after she had shewn her self to the World, and vanquish’d so
+many Hearts; all Wits were at work on this Cruel Subject, and one begat
+another, as is usual in such Affairs. Amongst the number of these
+Lovers, there was a young Gentleman, Nobly born, his name was
+_Villenoys_, who was admirably made, and very handsom, had travell’d and
+accomplish’d himself, as much as was possible for one so young to do; he
+was about Eighteen, and was going to the Siege of _Candia_, in a very
+good Equipage, but, overtaken by his Fate, surpris’d in his way to
+Glory, he stopt at _Ipers_, so fell most passionately in love with this
+Maid of Immortal Fame; but being defeated in his hopes by this News, was
+the Man that made the softest Complaints to this fair Beauty, and whose
+violence of Passion oppress’d him to that degree, that he was the only
+Lover, who durst himself tell her, he was in love with her; he writ
+Billets so soft and tender, that she had, of all her Lovers, most
+compassion for _Villenoys_, and dain’d several times, in pity of him, to
+send him answers to his Letters, but they were such, as absolutely
+forbad him to love her; such as incited him to follow Glory, the
+Mistress that could noblest reward him; and that, for her part, her
+Prayers should always be, that he might be victorious, and the Darling
+of that Fortune he was going to court; and that she, for her part, had
+fix’d her Mind on Heaven, and no Earthly Thought should bring it down;
+but she should ever retain for him all Sisterly Respect, and begg’d, in
+her Solitudes, to hear, whether her Prayers had prov’d effectual or not,
+and if Fortune were so kind to him, as she should perpetually wish.
+
+When _Villenoys_ found she was resolv’d, he design’d to persue his
+Journy, but could not leave the Town, till he had seen the fatal
+Ceremony of _Isabella’s_ being made a _Nun_, which was every day
+expected; and while he stay’d, he could not forbear writing daily to
+her, but receiv’d no more Answers from her, she already accusing her
+self of having done too much, for a Maid in her Circumstances; but she
+confess’d, of all she had seen, she lik’d _Villenoys_ the best; and if
+she ever could have lov’d, she believ’d it would have been _Villenoys_,
+for he had all the good Qualities, and grace, that could render him
+agreeable to the Fair; besides, that he was only Son to a very rich and
+noble Parent, and one that might very well presume to lay claim to a
+Maid of _Isabella’s_ Beauty and Fortune.
+
+As the time approach’d, when he must eternally lose all hope, by
+_Isabella’s_ taking Orders, he found himself less able to bear the
+Efforts of that Despair it possess’d him with, he languished with the
+thought, so that it was visible to all his Friends, the decays it
+wrought on his Beauty and Gaiety: So that he fell at last into a Feaver;
+and ’twas the whole Discourse of the Town, That _Villenoys_ was dying
+for the Fair _Isabella_; his Relations, being all of Quality, were
+extreamly afflicted at his Misfortune, and joyn’d their Interests yet,
+to dissuade this fair young Victoress from an act so cruel, as to
+inclose herself in a _Nunnery_, while the finest of all the youths of
+Quality was dying for her, and ask’d her, If it would not be more
+acceptable to Heaven to save a Life, and perhaps a Soul, than to go and
+expose her own to a thousand Tortures? They assur’d her, _Villenoys_ was
+dying, and dying Adoring her; that nothing could save his Life, but her
+kind Eyes turn’d upon the fainting Lover; a Lover, that could breath
+nothing, but her Name in Sighs; and find satisfaction in nothing, but
+weeping and crying out, ‘I dye for Isabella!’ This Discourse fetch’d
+abundance of Tears from the fair Eyes of this tender Maid; but, at the
+same time, she besought them to believe, these Tears ought not to give
+them hope, she should ever yield to save his Life, by quitting her
+Resolution, of becoming a _Nun_; but, on the contrary, they were Tears,
+that only bewail’d her own Misfortune, in having been the occasion of
+the death of any Man, especially, a Man, who had so many Excellencies,
+as might have render’d him entirely Happy and Glorious for a long race
+of Years, had it not been his ill fortune to have seen her unlucky Face.
+She believ’d, it was for her Sins of Curiosity, and going beyond the
+Walls of the Monastery, to wander after the Vanities of the foolish
+World, that had occasion’d this Misfortune to the young Count of
+_Villenoys_, and she would put a severe Penance on her Body, for the
+Mischiefs her Eyes had done him; she fears she might, by something in
+her looks, have intic’d his Heart, for she own’d she saw him, with
+wonder at his Beauty, and much more she admir’d him, when she found the
+Beauties of his Mind; she confess’d, she had given him hope, by
+answering his Letters; and that when she found her Heart grow a little
+more than usually tender, when she thought on him, she believ’d it a
+Crime, that ought to be check’d by a Virtue, such as she pretended to
+profess, and hop’d she should ever carry to her Grave; and she desired
+his Relations to implore him, in her Name, to rest contented, in knowing
+he was the first, and should be the last, that should ever make an
+impression on her Heart; that what she had conceiv’d there, for him,
+should remain with her to her dying day, and that she besought him to
+live, that she might see, he both deserv’d this Esteem she had for him,
+and to repay it her, otherwise he would dye in her debt, and make her
+Life ever after reposeless.
+
+This being all they could get from her, they return’d with Looks that
+told their Message; however, they render’d those soft things _Isabella_
+had said, in so moving a manner, as fail’d not to please, and while he
+remain’d in this condition, the Ceremonies were compleated, of making
+_Isabella_ a _Nun_; which was a Secret to none but _Villenoys_, and from
+him it was carefully conceal’d, so that in a little time he recover’d
+his lost health, at least, so well, as to support the fatal News, and
+upon the first hearing it, he made ready his Equipage, and departed
+immediately for _Candia_; where he behav’d himself very gallantly, under
+the Command of the Duke De _Beaufort_, and, with him, return’d to
+_France_, after the loss of that noble City to the _Turks_.
+
+In all the time of his absence, that he might the sooner establish his
+Repose, he forbore sending to the fair Cruel _Nun_, and she heard no
+more of _Villenoys_ in above two years; so that giving her self wholly
+up to Devotion, there was never seen any one, who led so Austere and
+Pious a Life, as this young _Votress_; she was a Saint in the Chapel,
+and an Angel at the _Grate_: She there laid by all her severe Looks, and
+mortify’d Discourse, and being at perfect peace and tranquility within,
+she was outwardly all gay, sprightly, and entertaining, being satisfy’d,
+no Sights, no Freedoms, could give any temptations to worldly desires;
+she gave a loose to all that was modest, and that Virtue and Honour
+would permit, and was the most charming Conversation that ever was
+admir’d; and the whole World that pass’d through _Iper_; of Strangers,
+came directed and recommended to the lovely _Isabella_; I mean, those of
+Quality: But however Diverting she was at the _Grate_, she was most
+exemplary Devout in the Cloister, doing more Penance, and imposing a
+more rigid Severity and Task on her self, than was requir’d, giving such
+rare Examples to all the _Nuns_ that were less Devout, that her Life was
+a Proverb, and a President, and when they would express a very Holy
+Woman indeed, they would say, ‘She was a very _ISABELLA_.’
+
+There was in this _Nunnery_, a young _Nun_, call’d, Sister _Katteriena_,
+Daughter to the Grave _Vanhenault_, that is to say, an Earl, who liv’d
+about six Miles from the Town, in a noble _Villa_; this Sister
+_Katteriena_ was not only a very beautiful Maid, but very witty, and had
+all the good qualities to make her be belov’d, and had most wonderfully
+gain’d upon the Heart of the fair _Isabella_, she was her Chamber-Fellow
+and Companion in all her Devotions and Diversions, so that where one
+was, there was the other, and they never went but together to the
+_Grate_, to the Garden, or to any place, whither their _Affairs_ call’d
+either. This young _Katteriena_ had a Brother, who lov’d her intirely,
+and came every day to see her, he was about twenty Years of Age, rather
+tall than middle Statur’d, his Hair and Eyes brown, but his Face
+exceeding beautiful, adorn’d with a thousand Graces, and the most nobly
+and exactly made, that ’twas possible for Nature to form; to the
+Fineness and Charms of his Person, he had an Air in his Meen and
+Dressing, so very agreeable, besides rich, that ’twas impossible to look
+on him, without wishing him happy, because he did so absolutely merit
+being so. His Wit and his Manner was so perfectly Obliging, a Goodness
+and Generosity so Sincere and Gallant, that it would even have aton’d
+for Ugliness. As he was eldest Son to so great a Father, he was kept at
+home, while the rest of his Brothers were employ’d in Wars abroad; this
+made him of a melancholy Temper, and fit for soft Impressions; he was
+very Bookish, and had the best Tutors that could be got, for Learning
+and Languages, and all that could compleat a Man; but was unus’d to
+Action, and of a temper Lazy, and given to Repose, so that his Father
+could hardly ever get him to use any Exercise, or so much as ride
+abroad, which he would call, Losing Time from his Studies: He car’d not
+for the Conversation of Men, because he lov’d not Debauch, as they
+usually did; so that for Exercise, more than any Design, he came on
+Horseback every day to _Iper_ to the _Monastery_, and would sit at the
+_Grate_, entertaining his Sister the most part of the Afternoon, and, in
+the Evening, retire; he had often seen and convers’d with the lovely
+_Isabella_, and found from the first sight of her, he had more Esteem
+for her, than any other of her Sex: But as Love very rarely takes Birth
+without Hope; so he never believ’d that the Pleasure he took in
+beholding her, and in discoursing with her, was Love, because he
+regarded her, as a Thing consecrate to Heaven, and never so much as
+thought to wish, she were a Mortal fit for his Addresses; yet he found
+himself more and more fill’d with Reflections on her which was not usual
+with him; he found she grew upon his Memory, and oftner came there, than
+he us’d to do, that he lov’d his Studies less, and going to _Iper_ more;
+and, that every time he went, he found a new Joy at his Heart that
+pleas’d him; he found, he could not get himself from the _Grate_,
+without Pain; nor part from the sight of that all-charming Object,
+without Sighs; and if, while he was there, any persons came to visit
+her, whose Quality she could not refuse the honour of her sight to, he
+would blush, and pant with uneasiness, especially, if they were handsom,
+and fit to make Impressions: And he would check this Uneasiness in
+himself, and ask his Heart, what it meant, by rising and beating in
+those Moments, and strive to assume an Indifferency in vain, and depart
+dissatisfy’d, and out of humour.
+
+On the other side, _Isabella_ was not so Gay as she us’d to be, but, on
+the sudden, retir’d her self more from the _Grate_ than she us’d to do,
+refus’d to receive Visits every day, and her Complexion grew a little
+pale and languid; she was observ’d not to sleep, or eat, as she us’d to
+do, nor exercise in those little Plays they made, and diverted
+themselves with, now and then; she was heard to sigh often, and it
+became the Discourse of the whole House, that she was much alter’d: The
+Lady _Abbess_, who lov’d her with a most tender Passion, was infinitely
+concern’d at this Change, and endeavour’d to find out the Cause, and
+’twas generally believ’d, she was too Devout, for now she redoubled her
+Austerity; and in cold Winter Nights, of Frost and Snow, would be up at
+all Hours, and lying upon the cold Stones, before the Altar, prostrate
+at Prayers: So that she receiv’d Orders from the Lady _Abbess_, not to
+harass her self so very much, but to have a care of her Health, as well
+as her Soul; but she regarded not these Admonitions, tho’ even persuaded
+daily by her _Katteriena_, whom she lov’d every day more and more.
+
+But, one Night, when they were retir’d to their Chamber, amongst a
+thousand things that they spoke of, to pass away a tedious Evening, they
+talk’d of Pictures and Likenesses, and _Katteriena_ told _Isabella_,
+that before she was a _Nun_, in her more happy days, she was so like her
+Brother _Bernardo Henault_, (who was the same that visited them every
+day) that she would, in Men’s Clothes, undertake, she should not have
+known one from t’other, and fetching out his _Picture_, she had in a
+Dressing-Box, she threw it to _Isabella_, who, at the first sight of it,
+turns as pale as Ashes, and, being ready to swound, she bid her take it
+away, and could not, for her Soul, hide the sudden surprise the
+_Picture_ brought: _Katteriena_ had too much Wit, not to make a just
+Interpretation of this Change, and (as a Woman) was naturally curious to
+pry farther, tho’ Discretion should have made her been silent, for
+Talking, in such cases, does but make the Wound rage the more; ‘Why, my
+dear Sister, (said _Katteriena_) is the likeness of my Brother so
+offensive to you?’ _Isabella_ found by this, she had discover’d too
+much, and that Thought put her by all power of excusing it; she was
+confounded with Shame, and the more she strove to hide it, the more it
+disorder’d her; so that she (blushing extremely) hung down her Head,
+sigh’d, and confess’d all by her Looks. At last, after a considering
+Pause, she cry’d, ‘My dearest Sister, I do confess, I was surpriz’d at
+the sight of Monsieur _Henault_, and much more than ever you have
+observ’d me to be at the sight of his Person, because there is scarce a
+day wherein I do not see that, and know beforehand I shall see him; I am
+prepar’d for the Encounter, and have lessen’d my Concern, or rather
+Confusion, by that time I come to the _Grate_, so much Mistress I am of
+my Passions, when they give me warning of their approach, and sure I can
+withstand the greatest assaults of Fate, if I can but foresee it; but if
+it surprize me, I find I am as feeble a Woman, as the most unresolv’d;
+you did not tell me, you had this Picture, nor say, you would shew me
+such a Picture; but when I least expect to see that Face, you shew it
+me, even in my Chamber.’
+
+‘Ah, my dear Sister! (reply’d _Katteriena_) I believe, that Paleness,
+and those Blushes, proceed from some other cause, than the Nicety of
+seeing the Picture of a Man in your Chamber’:
+
+‘You have too much Wit, (reply’d _Isabella_) to be impos’d on by such an
+Excuse, if I were so silly to make it; but oh! my dear Sister! it was in
+my Thoughts to deceive you; could I have concealed my Pain and
+Sufferings, you should never have known them; but since I find it
+impossible, and that I am too sincere to make use of Fraud in any thing,
+’tis fit I tell you, from what cause my change of Colour proceeds, and
+to own to you, I fear, ’tis Love, if ever therefore, oh gentle pitying
+Maid! thou wert a Lover? If ever thy tender Heart were touch’d with that
+Passion? Inform me, oh! inform me, of the nature of that cruel Disease,
+and how thou found’st a Cure?’
+
+While she was speaking these words, she threw her Arms about the Neck of
+the fair _Katteriena_, and bath’d her Bosom (where she hid her Face)
+with a shower of Tears; _Katteriena_, embracing her with all the
+fondness of a dear Lover, told her, with a Sigh, that she could deny her
+nothing, and therefore confess’d to her, she had been a Lover, and that
+was the occasion of her being made a _Nun_, her Father finding out the
+Intrigue, which fatally happened to be with his own Page, a Youth of
+extraordinary Beauty. ‘I was but Young, (said she) about Thirteen, and
+knew not what to call the new-known Pleasure that I felt; when e’re I
+look’d upon the young _Arnaldo_, my Heart would heave, when e’re he came
+in view, and my disorder’d Breath came doubly from my Bosom; a Shivering
+seiz’d me, and my Face grew wan; my Thought was at a stand, and Sense it
+self, for that short moment, lost its Faculties; But when he touch’d me,
+oh! no hunted Deer, tir’d with his flight, and just secur’d in Shades,
+pants with a nimbler motion than my Heart; at first, I thought the Youth
+had had some Magick Art, to make one faint and tremble at his touches;
+but he himself, when I accus’d his Cruelty, told me, he had no Art, but
+awful Passion, and vow’d that when I touch’d him, he was so; so
+trembling, so surprized, so charm’d, so pleas’d. When he was present,
+nothing could displease me, but when he parted from me; then ’twas
+rather a soft silent Grief, that eas’d itself by sighing, and by hoping,
+that some kind moment would restore my joy. When he was absent, nothing
+could divert me, howe’re I strove, howe’re I toyl’d for Mirth; no Smile,
+no Joy, dwelt in my Heart or Eyes; I could not feign, so very well I
+lov’d, impatient in his absence, I would count the tedious parting
+Hours, and pass them off like useless Visitants, whom we wish were gon;
+these are the Hours, where Life no business has, at least, a Lover’s
+Life. But, oh! what Minutes seem’d the happy Hours, when on his Eyes I
+gaz’d, and he on mine, and half our Conversation lost in Sighs, Sighs,
+the soft moving Language of a Lover!’
+
+‘No more, no more, (reply’d _Isabella_, throwing her Arms again about
+the Neck of the transported _Katteriena_) thou blow’st my Flame by thy
+soft Words, and mak’st me know my Weakness, and my Shame: I love!
+I love! and feel those differing Passions!’--Then pausing a moment, she
+proceeded,--‘Yet so didst thou, but hast surmounted it. Now thou hast
+found the Nature of my Pain, oh! tell me thy saving Remedy?’ ‘Alas!
+(reply’d _Katteriena_) tho’ there’s but one Disease, there’s many
+Remedies: They say, possession’s one, but that to me seems a Riddle;
+Absence, they say, another, and that was mine; for _Arnaldo_ having by
+chance lost one of my Billets, discover’d the Amour, and was sent to
+travel, and my self forc’d into this Monastery, where at last, Time
+convinc’d me, I had lov’d below my Quality, and that sham’d me into Holy
+Orders.’ ‘And is it a Disease, (reply’d _Isabella_) that People often
+recover?’ ‘Most frequently, (said _Katteriena_) and yet some dye of the
+Disease, but very rarely.’ ‘Nay then, (said _Isabella_) I fear, you will
+find me one of these Martyrs; for I have already oppos’d it with the
+most severe Devotion in the World: But all my Prayers are vain, your
+lovely Brother persues me into the greatest Solitude; he meets me at my
+very Midnight Devotions, and interrupts my Prayers; he gives me a
+thousand Thoughts, that ought not to enter into a Soul dedicated to
+Heaven; he ruins all the Glory I have achiev’d, even above my Sex, for
+Piety of Life, and the Observation of all Virtues. Oh _Katteriena_! he
+has a Power in his Eyes, that transcends all the World besides: And, to
+shew the weakness of Human Nature, and how vain all our Boastings are,
+he has done that in one fatal Hour, that the persuasions of all my
+Relations and Friends, Glory, Honour, Pleasure, and all that can tempt,
+could not perform in Years; I resisted all but _Henault’s_ Eyes, and
+they were Ordain’d to make me truly wretched; But yet with thy
+Assistance, and a Resolution to see him no more, and my perpetual Trust
+in Heaven, I may, perhaps, overcome this Tyrant of my Soul, who,
+I thought, had never enter’d into holy Houses, or mix’d his Devotions
+and Worship with the true Religion; but, oh! no Cells, no Cloysters, no
+Hermitages, are secur’d from his Efforts.’
+
+This Discourse she ended with abundance of Tears, and it was resolv’d,
+since she was devoted for ever to a Holy Life, That it was best for her
+to make it as easy to her as was possible; in order to it, and the
+banishing this fond and useless Passion from her Heart, it was very
+necessary, she should see _Henault_ no more: At first, _Isabella_ was
+afraid, that, in refusing to see him, he might mistrust her Passion; but
+_Katteriena_ who was both Pious and Discreet, and endeavour’d truly to
+cure her of so violent a Disease, which must, she knew, either end in
+her death or destruction, told her, She would take care of that matter,
+that it should not blemish her Honour; and so leaving her a while, after
+they had resolved on this, she left her in a thousand Confusions, she
+was now another Woman than what she had hitherto been; she was quite
+alter’d in every Sentiment, thought and Notion; she now repented, she
+had promis’d not to see _Henault_; she trembled and even fainted, for
+fear she should see him no more; she was not able to bear that thought,
+it made her rage within, like one possest, and all her Virtue could not
+calm her; yet since her word was past, and, as she was, she could not,
+without great Scandal, break it in that point, she resolv’d to dye a
+thousand Deaths, rather than not perform her Promise made to
+_Katteriena_; but ’tis not to be express’d what she endur’d; what Fits,
+Pains, and Convulsions, she sustain’d; and how much ado she had to
+dissemble to Dame _Katteriena_, who soon return’d to the afflicted Maid;
+the next day, about the time that _Henault_ was to come, as he usually
+did, about two or three a Clock after Noon, ’tis impossible to express
+the uneasiness of _Isabella_; she ask’d, a thousand times, ‘What, is not
+your Brother come?’ When Dame _Katteriena_ would reply, ‘Why do you
+ask?’ She would say, ‘Because I would be sure not to see him’: ‘You need
+not fear, Madam, (reply’d _Katteriena_) for you shall keep your
+Chamber.’ She need not have urg’d that, for _Isabella_ was very ill
+without knowing it, and in a Feaver.
+
+At last, one of the _Nuns_ came up, and told Dame _Katteriena_, that her
+Brother was at the _Grate_, and she desired, he should be bid come about
+to the Private _Grate_ above stairs, which he did, and she went to him,
+leaving _Isabella_ even dead on the Bed, at the very name of _Henault_:
+But the more she conceal’d her Flame, the more violently it rag’d, which
+she strove in vain by Prayers, and those Recourses of Solitude to
+lessen; all this did but augment the Pain, and was Oyl to the Fire, so
+that she now could hope, that nothing but Death would put an end to her
+Griefs, and her Infamy. She was eternally thinking on him, how handsome
+his Face, how delicate every Feature, how charming his Air, how graceful
+his Meen, how soft and good his Disposition, and how witty and
+entertaining his Conversation. She now fancy’d, she was at the _Grate_,
+talking to him as she us’d to be, and blest those happy Hours she past
+then, and bewail’d her Misfortune, that she is no more destin’d to be so
+Happy, then gives a loose to Grief; Griefs, at which, no Mortals, but
+Despairing Lovers, can guess, or how tormenting they are; where the most
+easie Moments are, those, wherein one resolves to kill ones self, and
+the happiest Thought is Damnation; but from these Imaginations, she
+endeavours to fly, all frighted with horror; but, alas! whither would
+she fly, but to a Life more full of horror? She considers well, she
+cannot bear Despairing Love, and finds it impossible to cure her
+Despair; she cannot fly from the Thoughts of the Charming _Henault_, and
+’tis impossible to quit ’em; and, at this rate, she found, Life could
+not long support it self, but would either reduce her to Madness, and so
+render her an hated Object of Scorn to the Censuring World, or force her
+Hand to commit a Murder upon her self. This she had found, this she had
+well consider’d, nor could her fervent and continual Prayers, her
+nightly Watchings, her Mortifications on the cold Marble in long Winter
+Season, and all her Acts of Devotion abate one spark of this shameful
+Feaver of Love, that was destroying her within. When she had rag’d and
+struggled with this unruly Passion, ’till she was quite tir’d and
+breathless, finding all her force in vain, she fill’d her fancy with a
+thousand charming _Ideas_ of the lovely _Henault_, and, in that soft
+fit, had a mind to satisfy her panting Heart, and give it one Joy more,
+by beholding the Lord of its Desires, and the Author of its Pains:
+Pleas’d, yet trembling, at this Resolve, she rose from the Bed where she
+was laid, and softly advanc’d to the Stair-Case, from whence there
+open’d that Room where Dame _Katteriena_ was, and where there was a
+private _Grate_, at which, she was entertaining her _Brother_; they were
+earnest in Discourse, and so loud, that _Isabella_ could easily hear all
+they said, and the first words were from _Katteriena_, who, in a sort of
+Anger, cry’d, ‘Urge me no more! My Virtue is too nice, to become an
+Advocate for a Passion, that can tend to nothing but your Ruin; for,
+suppose I should tell the fair _Isabella_, you dye for her, what can it
+avail you? What hope can any Man have, to move the Heart of a Virgin, so
+averse to Love? A Virgin, whose Modesty and Virtue is so very curious,
+it would fly the very word, Love, as some monstrous Witchcraft, or the
+foulest of Sins, who would loath me for bringing so lewd a Message, and
+banish you her Sight, as the Object of her Hate and Scorn; is it unknown
+to you, how many of the noblest Youths of _Flanders_ have address’d
+themselves to her in vain, when yet she was in the World? Have you been
+ignorant, how the young Count de _Villenoys_ languished, in vain, almost
+to Death for her? And, that no Persuasions, no Attractions in him, no
+wordly Advantages, or all his Pleadings, who had a Wit and Spirit
+capable of prevailing on any Heart, less severe and harsh, than hers? Do
+you not know, that all was lost on this insensible fair one, even when
+she was a proper Object for the Adoration of the Young and Amorous? And
+can you hope, now she has so entirely wedded her future days to
+Devotion, and given all to Heaven; nay, lives a Life here more like a
+Saint, than a Woman; rather an Angel, than a mortal Creature? Do you
+imagin, with any Rhetorick you can deliver, now to turn the Heart, and
+whole Nature, of this Divine Maid, to consider your Earthly Passion? No,
+’tis fondness, and an injury to her Virtue, to harbour such a Thought;
+quit it, quit it, my dear Brother! before it ruin your Repose.’ ‘Ah,
+Sister! (replied the dejected _Henault_) your Counsel comes too late,
+and your Reasons are of too feeble force, to rebate those Arrows, the
+Charming _Isabella’s_ Eyes have fix’d in my Heart and Soul; and I am
+undone, unless she know my Pain, which I shall dye, before I shall ever
+dare mention to her; but you, young Maids, have a thousand Familiarities
+together, can jest, and play, and say a thousand things between Railery
+and Earnest, that may first hint what you would deliver, and insinuate
+into each others Hearts a kind of Curiosity to know more; for naturally,
+(my dear Sister) Maids, are curious and vain; and however Divine the
+Mind of the fair _Isabella_ may be, it bears the Tincture still of
+Mortal Woman.’
+
+‘Suppose this true, how could this Mortal part about her Advantage you,
+(said _Katteriena_) all that you can expect from this Discovery, (if she
+should be content to hear it, and to return you pity) would be, to make
+her wretched, like your self? What farther can you hope?’ ‘Oh! talk not,
+(replied _Henault_) of so much Happiness! I do not expect to be so
+blest, that she should pity me, or love to a degree of Inquietude; ’tis
+sufficient, for the ease of my Heart, that she know its Pains, and what
+it suffers for her; that she would give my Eyes leave to gaze upon her,
+and my Heart to vent a Sigh now and then; and, when I dare, to give me
+leave to speak, and tell her of my Passion; This, this, is all, my
+Sister.’ And, at that word, the Tears glided down his Cheeks, and he
+declin’d his Eyes, and set a Look so charming, and so sad, that
+_Isabella_, whose Eyes were fix’d upon him, was a thousand times ready
+to throw her self into the Room, and to have made a Confession, how
+sensible she was of all she had heard and seen: But, with much ado, she
+contain’d and satisfy’d her self, with knowing, that she was ador’d by
+him whom she ador’d, and, with Prudence that is natural to her, she
+withdrew, and waited with patience the event of their Discourse. She
+impatiently long’d to know, how _Katteriena_ would manage this Secret
+her Brother had given her, and was pleas’d, that the Friendship and
+Prudence of that Maid had conceal’d her Passion from her Brother; and
+now contented and joyful beyond imagination, to find her self belov’d,
+she knew she could dissemble her own Passion and make him the first
+Aggressor; the first that lov’d, or at least, that should seem to do so.
+This Thought restores her so great a part of her Peace of Mind, that she
+resolv’d to see him, and to dissemble with _Katteriena_ so far, as to
+make her believe, she had subdu’d that Passion, she was really asham’d
+to own; she now, with her Woman’s Skill, begins to practise an Art she
+never before understood, and has recourse to Cunning, and resolves to
+seem to reassume her former Repose: But hearing _Katteriena_ approach,
+she laid her self again on her Bed, where she had left her, but compos’d
+her Face to more chearfulness, and put on a Resolution that indeed
+deceiv’d the Sister, who was extreamly pleased, she said, to see her
+look so well: When _Isabella_ reply’d, ‘Yes, I am another Woman now;
+I hope Heaven has heard, and granted, my long and humble Supplications,
+and driven from my Heart this tormenting God, that has so long disturb’d
+my purer Thoughts.’ ‘And are you sure, (said Dame _Katteriena_) that
+this wanton Deity is repell’d by the noble force of your Resolutions? Is
+he never to return?’ ‘No, (replied _Isabella_) never to my Heart.’ ‘Yes,
+(said _Katteriena_) if you should see the lovely Murderer of your
+Repose, your Wound would bleed anew.’ At this, _Isabella_ smiling with a
+little Disdain, reply’d, ‘Because you once to love, and _Henault’s_
+Charms defenceless found me, ah! do you think I have no Fortitude? But
+so in Fondness lost, remiss in Virtue, that when I have resolv’d, (and
+see it necessary for my after-Quiet) to want the power of keeping that
+Resolution? No, scorn me, and despise me then, as lost to all the
+Glories of my Sex, and all that Nicety I’ve hitherto preserv’d.’ There
+needed no more from a Maid of _Isabella’s_ Integrity and Reputation, to
+convince any one of the Sincerity of what she said, since, in the whole
+course of her Life, she never could be charg’d with an Untruth, or an
+Equivocation; and _Katteriena_ assur’d her, she believ’d her, and was
+infinitely glad she had vanquish’d a Passion, that would have prov’d
+destructive to her Repose: _Isabella_ reply’d, She had not altogether
+vanquish’d her Passion, she did not boast of so absolute a power over
+her soft Nature, but had resolv’d things great, and Time would work the
+Cure; that she hop’d, _Katteriena_ would make such Excuses to her
+Brother, for her not appearing at the _Grate_ so gay and entertaining as
+she us’d, and, by a little absence, she should retrieve the Liberty she
+had lost: But she desir’d, such Excuses might be made for her, that
+young _Henault_ might not perceive the Reason. At the naming him, she
+had much ado not to shew some Concern extraordinary, and _Katteriena_
+assur’d her, She had now a very good Excuse to keep from the _Grate_,
+when he was at it; ‘For, (said she) now you have resolv’d, I may tell
+you, he is dying for you, raving in Love, and has this day made me
+promise to him, to give you some account of his Passion, and to make you
+sensible of his Languishment: I had not told you this, (reply’d
+_Katteriena_) but that I believe you fortify’d with brave Resolution and
+Virtue, and that this knowledge will rather put you more upon your
+Guard, than you were before.’ While she spoke, she fixed her Eyes on
+_Isabella_, to see what alteration it would make in her Heart and Looks;
+but the Master-piece of this young Maid’s Art was shewn in this minute,
+for she commanded her self so well, that her very Looks dissembled and
+shew’d no concern at a Relation, that made her Soul dance with Joy; but
+it was, what she was prepar’d for, or else I question her Fortitude.
+But, with a Calmness, which absolutely subdu’d _Katteriena_, she
+reply’d, ‘I am almost glad he has confess’d a Passion for me, and you
+shall confess to him, you told me of it, and that I absent my self from
+the _Grate_, on purpose to avoid the sight of a Man, who durst love me,
+and confess it; and I assure you, my dear Sister! (continued she,
+dissembling) You could not have advanc’d my Cure by a more effectual
+way, than telling me of his Presumption.’ At that word, _Katteriena_
+joyfully related to her all that had pass’d between young _Henault_ and
+her self, and how he implor’d her Aid in this Amour; at the end of which
+Relation, _Isabella_ smil’d, and carelesly reply’d, ‘I pity him’: And so
+going to their Devotion, they had no more Discourse of the Lover.
+
+In the mean time, young _Henault_ was a little satisfy’d, to know, his
+Sister would discover his Passion to the lovely _Isabella_; and though
+he dreaded the return, he was pleas’d that she should know, she had a
+Lover that ador’d her, though even without hope; for though the thought
+of possessing _Isabella_, was the most ravishing that could be; yet he
+had a dread upon him, when he thought of it, for he could not hope to
+accomplish that, without Sacrilege; and he was a young Man, very Devout,
+and even bigotted in Religion; and would often question and debate
+within himself, that, if it were possible, he should come to be belov’d
+by this Fair Creature, and that it were possible for her, to grant all
+that Youth in Love could require, whether he should receive the Blessing
+offer’d? And though he ador’d the Maid, whether he should not abhor the
+_Nun_ in his Embraces? ’Twas an undetermin’d Thought, that chill’d his
+Fire as often as it approach’d; but he had too many that rekindled it
+again with the greater Flame and Ardor.
+
+His impatience to know, what Success _Katteriena_ had, with the Relation
+she was to make to _Isabella_ in his behalf, brought him early to _Iper_
+the next day. He came again to the private _Grate_, where his Sister
+receiving him, and finding him, with a sad and dejected Look, expect
+what she had to say; she told him, That Look well became the News she
+had for him, it being such, as ought to make him, both Griev’d, and
+Penitent; for, to obey him, she had so absolutely displeas’d _Isabella_,
+that she was resolv’d never to believe her her Friend more, ‘Or to see
+you, (said she) therefore, as you have made me commit a Crime against my
+Conscience, against my Order, against my Friendship, and against my
+Honour, you ought to do some brave thing; take some noble Resolution,
+worthy of your Courage, to redeem all; for your Repose, I promis’d,
+I would let Isabella know you lov’d, and, for the mitigation of my
+Crime, you ought to let me tell her, you have surmounted your Passion,
+as the last Remedy of Life and Fame.’
+
+At these her last words, the Tears gush’d from his Eyes, and he was able
+only, a good while, to sigh; at last, cry’d, ‘What! see her no more! see
+the Charming _Isabella_ no more!’ And then vented the Grief of his Soul
+in so passionate a manner, as his Sister had all the Compassion
+imaginable for him, but thought it great Sin and Indiscretion to cherish
+his Flame: So that, after a while, having heard her Counsel, he reply’d,
+‘And is this all, my Sister, you will do to save a Brother?’ ‘All!
+(reply’d she) I would not be the occasion of making a _NUN_ violate her
+Vow, to save a Brother’s Life, no, nor my own; assure your self of this,
+and take it as my last Resolution: Therefore, if you will be content
+with the Friendship of this young Lady, and so behave your self, that we
+may find no longer the Lover in the Friend, we shall reassume our former
+Conversation, and live with you, as we ought; otherwise, your Presence
+will continually banish her from the _Grate_, and, in time, make both
+her you love, and your self, a Town Discourse.’
+
+Much more to this purpose she said, to dissuade him, and bid him retire,
+and keep himself from thence, till he could resolve to visit them
+without a Crime; and she protested, if he did not do this, and master
+his foolish Passion, she would let her Father understand his Conduct,
+who was a Man of temper so very precise, that should he believe, his Son
+should have a thought of Love to a Virgin vow’d to Heaven, he would
+abandon him to Shame, and eternal Poverty, by disinheriting him of all
+he could: Therefore, she said, he ought to lay all this to his Heart,
+and weigh it with his unheedy Passion. While the Sister talk’d thus
+wisely, _Henault_ was not without his Thoughts, but consider’d as she
+spoke, but did not consider in the right place; he was not considering,
+how to please a Father, and save an Estate, but how to manage the matter
+so, to establish himself, as he was before with _Isabella_; for he
+imagin’d, since already she knew his Passion, and that if after that she
+would be prevail’d with to see him, he might, some lucky Minute or
+other, have the pleasure of speaking for himself, at least, he should
+again see and talk to her, which was a joyful Thought in the midst of so
+many dreadful ones: And, as if he had known what pass’d in _Isabella’s_
+Heart, he, by a strange sympathy, took the same measures to deceive
+_Katteriena_, a well-meaning young Lady, and easily impos’d on from her
+own Innocence, he resolv’d to dissemble Patience, since he must have
+that Virtue, and own’d, his Sister’s Reasons were just, and ought to be
+persu’d; that she had argu’d him into half his Peace, and that he would
+endeavour to recover the rest; that Youth ought to be pardon’d a
+thousand Failings, and Years would reduce him to a condition of laughing
+at his Follies of Youth, but that grave Direction was not yet arriv’d:
+And so desiring, she would pray for his Conversion, and that she would
+recommend him to the Devotions of the Fair _Isabella_, he took his
+leave, and came no more to the _Nunnery_ in ten Days; in all which time,
+none but Impatient Lovers can guess, what Pain and Languishments
+_Isabella_ suffer’d, not knowing the Cause of his Absence, nor daring to
+enquire; but she bore it out so admirably, that Dame _Katteriena_ never
+so much as suspected she had any Thoughts of that nature that perplex’d
+her, and now believ’d indeed she had conquer’d all her Uneasiness: And
+one day, when _Isabella_ and she were alone together, she ask’d that
+fair Dissembler, if she did not admire at the Conduct and Resolution of
+her Brother? ‘Why!’ (reply’d _Isabella_ unconcernedly, while her Heart
+was fainting within, for fear of ill News:) With that, _Katteriena_ told
+her the last Discourse she had with her Brother, and how at last she had
+persuaded him (for her sake) to quit his Passion; and that he had
+promis’d, he would endeavour to surmount it; and that, that was the
+reason he was absent now, and they were to see him no more, till he had
+made a Conquest over himself. You may assure your self, this News was
+not so welcom to _Isabella_, as _Katteriena_ imagin’d; yet still she
+dissembled, with a force, beyond what the most cunning Practitioner
+could have shewn, and carry’d her self before People, as if no Pressures
+had lain upon her Heart; but when alone retir’d, in order to her
+Devotion, she would vent her Griefs in the most deplorable manner, that
+a distress’d distracted Maid could do, and which, in spite of all her
+severe Penances, she found no abatement of.
+
+At last _Henault_ came again to the _Monastery_, and, with a Look as gay
+as he could possibly assume, he saw his Sister, and told her, He had
+gain’d an absolute Victory over his Heart; and desir’d, he might see
+_Isabella_, only to convince, both her, and _Katteriena_, that he was no
+longer a Lover of that fair Creature, that had so lately charm’d him;
+that he had set Five thousand Pounds a Year, against a fruitless
+Passion, and found the solid Gold much the heavier in the Scale: And he
+smil’d, and talk’d the whole Day of indifferent things, with his Sister,
+and ask’d no more for _Isabella_; nor did _Isabella_ look, or ask, after
+him, but in her Heart. Two Months pass’d in this Indifference, till it
+was taken notice of, that Sister _Isabella_ came not to the _Grate_,
+when _Henault_ was there, as she us’d to do; this being spoken to Dame
+_Katteriena_, she told it to _Isabella_, and said, ‘The _NUNS_ would
+believe, there was some Cause for her Absence, if she did not appear
+again’: That if she could trust her Heart, she was sure she could trust
+her Brother, for he thought no more of her, she was confident; this, in
+lieu of pleasing, was a Dagger to the Heart of _Isabella_, who thought
+it time to retrieve the flying Lover, and therefore told _Katteriena_,
+She would the next Day entertain at the Low _Grate_, as she was wont to
+do, and accordingly, as soon as any People of Quality came, she appear’d
+there, where she had not been two Minutes, but she saw the lovely
+_Henault_, and it was well for both, that People were in the Room, they
+had else both sufficiently discover’d their Inclinations, or rather
+their not to be conceal’d Passions; after the General Conversation was
+over, by the going away of the Gentlemen that were at the _Grate_,
+_Katteriena_ being employ’d elsewhere, _Isabella_ was at last left alone
+with _Henault_; but who can guess the Confusion of these two Lovers, who
+wish’d, yet fear’d, to know each others Thoughts? She trembling with a
+dismal Apprehension, that he lov’d no more; and he almost dying with
+fear, she should Reproach or Upbraid him with his Presumption; so that
+both being possess’d with equal Sentiments of Love, Fear, and Shame,
+they both stood fix’d with dejected Looks and Hearts, that heav’d with
+stifled Sighs. At last, _Isabella_, the softer and tender-hearted of the
+two, tho’ not the most a Lover perhaps, not being able to contain her
+Love any longer within the bounds of Dissimulation or Discretion, being
+by Nature innocent, burst out into Tears, and all fainting with pressing
+Thoughts within, she fell languishly into a Chair that stood there,
+while the distracted _Henault_, who could not come to her Assistance,
+and finding Marks of Love, rather than Anger or Disdain, in that
+Confusion of _Isabella’s_, throwing himself on his Knees at the _Grate_,
+implor’d her to behold him, to hear him, and to pardon him, who dy’d
+every moment for her, and who ador’d her with a violent Ardor; but yet,
+with such an one, as should (tho’ he perish’d with it) be conformable to
+her Commands; and as he spoke, the Tears stream’d down his dying Eyes,
+that beheld her with all the tender Regard that ever Lover was capable
+of; she recover’d a little, and turn’d her too beautiful Face to him,
+and pierc’d him with a Look, that darted a thousand Joys and Flames into
+his Heart, with Eyes, that told him her Heart was burning and dying for
+him; for which Assurances, he made Ten thousand Asseverations of his
+never-dying Passion, and expressing as many Raptures and Excesses of
+Joy, to find her Eyes and Looks confess, he was not odious to her, and
+that the knowledge he was her Lover, did not make her hate him: In fine,
+he spoke so many things all soft and moving, and so well convinc’d her
+of his Passion, that she at last was compell’d by a mighty force,
+absolutely irresistible, to speak.
+
+‘Sir, (said she) perhaps you will wonder, where I, a Maid, brought up in
+the simplicity of Virtue, should learn the Confidence, not only to hear
+of Love from you, but to confess I am sensible of the most violent of
+its Pain my self; and I wonder, and am amazed at my own Daring, that I
+should have the Courage, rather to speak, than dye, and bury it in
+silence; but such is my Fate. Hurried by an unknown Force, which I have
+endeavoured always, in vain, to resist, I am compell’d to tell you,
+I love you, and have done so from the first moment I saw you; and you
+are the only Man born to give me Life or Death, to make me Happy or
+Blest; perhaps, had I not been confin’d, and, as it were, utterly forbid
+by my Vow, as well as my Modesty, to tell you this, I should not have
+been so miserable to have fallen thus low, as to have confess’d my
+Shame; but our Opportunities of Speaking are so few, and Letters so
+impossible to be sent without discovery, that perhaps this is the only
+time I shall ever have to speak with you alone.’ And, at that word the
+Tears flow’d abundantly from her Eyes, and gave _Henault_ leave to
+speak. ‘Ah Madam! (said he) do not, as soon as you have rais’d me to the
+greatest Happiness in the World, throw me with one word beneath your
+Scorn, much easier ’tis to dye, and know I am lov’d, than never, never,
+hope to hear that blessed sound again from that beautiful Mouth: Ah,
+Madam! rather let me make use of this one opportunity our happy Luck has
+given us, and contrive how we may for ever see, and speak, to each
+other; let us assure one another, there are a thousand ways to escape a
+place so rigid, as denies us that Happiness; and denies the fairest Maid
+in the World, the privilege of her Creation, and the end to which she
+was form’d so Angelical.’ And seeing _Isabella_ was going to speak, lest
+she should say something, that might dissuade from an Attempt so
+dangerous and wicked, he persu’d to tell her, it might be indeed the
+last moment Heaven would give ’em, and besought her to answer him what
+he implor’d, whether she would fly with him from the _Monastery_? At
+this Word, she grew pale, and started, as at some dreadful Sound, and
+cry’d, ‘Hah! what is’t you say? Is it possible, you should propose a
+thing so wicked? And can it enter into your Imagination, because I have
+so far forget my Virtue, and my Vow, to become a Lover, I should
+therefore fall to so wretched a degree of Infamy and Reprobation? No,
+name it to me no more, if you would see me; and if it be as you say,
+a Pleasure to be belov’d by me; for I will sooner dye, than yield to
+what . . . Alas! I but too well approve!’ These last words, she spoke
+with a fainting Tone, and the Tears fell anew from her fair soft Eyes.
+‘If it be so,’ said he, (with a Voice so languishing, it could scarce be
+heard) ‘If it be so, and that you are resolv’d to try, if my Love be
+eternal without Hope, without expectation of any other Joy, than seeing
+and adoring you through the _Grate_; I am, and must, and will be
+contented, and you shall see, I can prefer the Sighing to these cold
+Irons, that separate us, before all the Possessions of the rest of the
+World; that I chuse rather to lead my Life here, at this cruel Distance
+from you, for ever, than before the Embrace of all the Fair; and you
+shall see, how pleas’d I will be, to languish here; but as you see me
+decay, (for surely so I shall) do not triumph o’re my languid Looks, and
+laugh at my Pale and meager Face; but, Pitying, say, How easily I might
+have preserv’d that Face, those Eyes, and all that Youth and Vigour, now
+no more, from this total Ruine I now behold it in, and love your Slave
+that dyes, and will be daily and visibly dying, as long as my Eyes can
+gaze on that fair Object, and my Soul be fed and kept alive with her
+Charming Wit and Conversation; if Love can live on such Airy Food, (tho’
+rich in it self, yet unfit, alone, to sustain Life) it shall be for ever
+dedicated to the lovely _ISABELLA_: But, oh! that time cannot be long!
+Fate will not lend her Slave many days, who loves too violently, to be
+satisfy’d to enjoy the fair Object of his Desires, no otherwise than at
+a _Grate_.’
+
+He ceas’d speaking, for Sighs and Tears stopt his Voice, and he begg’d
+the liberty to sit down; and his Looks being quite alter’d, _ISABELLA_
+found her self touch’d to the very Soul, with a concern the most tender,
+that ever yielding Maid was oppress’d with: She had no power to suffer
+him to Languish, while she by one soft word could restore him, and being
+about to say a thousand things that would have been agreeable to him,
+she saw herself approach’d by some of the _Nuns_, and only had time to
+say, ‘If you love me, live and hope.’ The rest of the _Nuns_ began to
+ask _Henault_ of News, for he always brought them all that was Novel in
+the Town, and they were glad still of his Visits, above all other, for
+they heard, how all Amours and Intrigues pass’d in the World, by this
+young Cavalier. These last words of _Isabella’s_ were a Cordial to his
+Soul, and he, from that, and to conceal the present Affair, endeavour’d
+to assume all the Gaity he could, and told ’em all he could either
+remember, or invent, to please ’em, tho’ he wish’d them a great way off
+at that time.
+
+Thus they pass’d the day, till it was a decent hour for him to quit the
+_Grate_, and for them to draw the Curtain; all that Night did _Isabella_
+dedicate to Love, she went to Bed, with a Resolution, to think over all
+she had to do, and to consider, how she should manage this great Affair
+of her Life: I have already said, she had try’d all that was possible in
+Human Strength to perform, in the design of quitting a Passion so
+injurious to her Honour and Virtue, and found no means possible to
+accomplish it: She had try’d Fasting long, Praying fervently, rigid
+Penances and Pains, severe Disciplines, all the Mortification, almost to
+the destruction of Life it self, to conquer the unruly Flame; but still
+it burnt and rag’d but the more; so, at last, she was forc’d to permit
+that to conquer her, she could not conquer, and submitted to her Fate,
+as a thing destin’d her by Heaven it self; and after all this
+opposition, she fancy’d it was resisting even Divine Providence, to
+struggle any longer with her Heart; and this being her real Belief, she
+the more patiently gave way to all the Thoughts that pleas’d her.
+
+As soon as she was laid, without discoursing (as she us’d to do) to
+_Katteriena_, after they were in Bed, she pretended to be sleepy, and
+turning from her, setled her self to profound Thinking, and was resolv’d
+to conclude the Matter, between her Heart, and her Vow of Devotion, that
+Night, and she, having no more to determine, might end the Affair
+accordingly, the first opportunity she should have to speak to
+_Henault_, which was, to fly, and marry him; or, to remain for ever
+fix’d to her Vow of Chastity. This was the Debate; she brings Reason on
+both sides: Against the first, she sets the Shame of a Violated Vow, and
+considers, where she shall shew her Face after such an Action; to the
+Vow, she argues, that she was born in Sin, and could not live without
+it; that she was Human, and no Angel, and that, possibly, that Sin might
+be as soon forgiven, as another; that since all her devout Endeavours
+could not defend her from the Cause, Heaven ought to execute the Effect;
+that as to shewing her Face, so she saw that of _Henault_ always turned
+(Charming as it was) towards her with love; what had she to do with the
+World, or car’d to behold any other?
+
+Some times, she thought, it would be more Brave and Pious to dye, than
+to break her Vow; but she soon answer’d that, as false Arguing, for
+Self-Murder was the worst of Sins, and in the Deadly Number. She could,
+after such an Action, live to repent, and, of two Evils, she ought to
+chuse the least; she dreads to think, since she had so great a
+Reputation for Virtue and Piety, both in the _Monastery_, and in the
+World, what they both would say, when she should commit an Action so
+contrary to both these, she posest; but, after a whole Night’s Debate,
+Love was strongest, and gain’d the Victory. She never went about to
+think, how she should escape, because she knew it would be easy, the
+keeping of the Key of the _Monastery_, [was] often intrusted in her
+keeping, and was, by turns, in the hands of many more, whose Virtue and
+Discretion was Infallible, and out of Doubt; besides, her Aunt being the
+Lady _Abbess_, she had greater privilege than the rest; so that she had
+no more to do, she thought, than to acquaint _Henault_ with her Design,
+as soon as she should get an opportunity. Which was not quickly; but, in
+the mean time, _Isabella’s_ Father dy’d, which put some little stop to
+our Lover’s Happiness, and gave her a short time of Grief; but Love,
+who, while he is new and young, can do us Miracles, soon wip’d her Eyes,
+and chas’d away all Sorrows from her Heart, and grew every day more and
+more impatient, to put her new Design in Execution, being every day more
+resolv’d. Her Father’s Death had remov’d one Obstacle, and secur’d her
+from his Reproaches; and now she only wants Opportunity, first, to
+acquaint _Henault_, and then to fly.
+
+She waited not long, all things concurring to her desire; for
+_Katteriena_ falling sick, she had the good luck, as she call’d it then,
+to entertain _Henault_ at the _Grate_ oftentimes alone; the first moment
+she did so, she entertain’d him with the good News, and told him, She
+had at last vanquish’d her Heart in favour of him, and loving him above
+all things, Honour, her Vow or Reputation, had resolv’d to abandon her
+self wholly to him, to give her self up to love and serve him, and that
+she had no other Consideration in the World; but _Henault_, instead of
+returning her an Answer, all Joy and Satisfaction, held down his Eyes,
+and Sighing, with a dejected Look, he cry’d, ‘Ah, Madam! Pity a Man so
+wretched and undone, as not to be sensible of this Blessing as I ought.’
+She grew pale at this Reply, and trembling, expected he would proceed:
+‘’Tis not (continued he) that I want Love, tenderest Passion, and all
+the desire Youth and Love can inspire; But, Oh, Madam! when I consider,
+(for raving mad in Love as I am for your sake, I do consider) that if I
+should take you from this Repose, Nobly Born and Educated, as you are;
+and, for that Act, should find a rigid Father deprive me of all that
+ought to support you, and afford your Birth, Beauty, and Merits, their
+due, what would you say? How would you Reproach me?’ He sighing,
+expected her Answer, when Blushes overspreading her Face, she reply’d,
+in a Tone all haughty and angry, ‘Ah, _Henault_! Am I then refus’d,
+after having abandon’d all things for you? Is it thus, you reward my
+Sacrific’d Honour, Vows, and Virtue? Cannot you hazard the loss of
+Fortune to possess _Isabella_, who loses all for you!’ Then bursting
+into Tears, at her misfortune of Loving, she suffer’d him to say, ‘Oh,
+Charming fair one! how industrious is your Cruelty, to find out new
+Torments for an Heart, already press’d down with the Severities of Love?
+Is it possible, you can make so unhappy a Construction of the tenderest
+part of my Passion? And can you imagin it want of Love in me, to
+consider, how I shall preserve and merit the vast Blessing Heaven has
+given me? Is my Care a Crime? And would not the most deserving Beauty of
+the World hate me, if I should, to preserve my Life, and satisfy the
+Passion of my fond Heart, reduce her to the Extremities of Want and
+Misery? And is there any thing, in what I have said, but what you ought
+to take for the greatest Respect and tenderness!’ ‘Alas! (reply’d
+_Isabella_ sighing) young as I am, all unskilful in Love I find, but
+what I feel, that Discretion is no part of it; and Consideration,
+inconsistent with the Nobler Passion, who will subsist of its own
+Nature, and Love unmixed with any other Sentiment? And ’tis not pure, if
+it be otherwise: I know, had I mix’d Discretion with mine, my Love must
+have been less, I never thought of living, but my Love; and, if I
+consider’d at all, it was, that Grandure and Magnificence were useless
+Trifles to Lovers, wholly needless and troublesom. I thought of living
+in some loanly Cottage, far from the noise of crowded busie Cities, to
+walk with thee in Groves, and silent Shades, where I might hear no Voice
+but thine; and when we had been tir’d, to sit us done by some cool
+murmuring Rivulet, and be to each a World, my Monarch thou, and I thy
+Sovereign Queen, while Wreaths of Flowers shall crown our happy Heads,
+some fragrant Bank our Throne, and Heaven our Canopy: Thus we might
+laugh at Fortune, and the Proud, despise the duller World, who place
+their Joys in mighty Shew and Equipage. Alas! my Nature could not bear
+it, I am unus’d to Wordly Vanities, and would boast of nothing but my
+_Henault_; no Riches, but his Love; no Grandure, but his Presence.’ She
+ended speaking, with Tears, and he reply’d, ‘Now, now, I find, my
+_Isabella_ loves indeed, when she’s content to abandon the World for my
+sake; Oh! thou hast named the only happy Life that suits my quiet
+Nature, to be retir’d, has always been my Joy! But to be so with thee!
+Oh! thou hast charm’d me with a Thought so dear, as has for ever
+banish’d all my Care, but how to receive thy Goodness! Please think no
+more what my angry Parent may do, when he shall hear, how I have
+dispos’d of my self against his Will and Pleasure, but trust to Love and
+Providence; no more! be gone all Thoughts, but those of _Isabella_!’
+
+As soon as he had made an end of expressing his Joy, he fell to
+consulting how, and when, she should escape; and since it was uncertain,
+when she should be offer’d the Key, for she would not ask for it, she
+resolv’d to give him notice, either by word of Mouth, or a bit of Paper
+she would write in, and give him through the _Grate_ the first
+opportunity; and, parting for that time, they both resolv’d to get up
+what was possible for their Support, till Time should reconcile Affairs
+and Friends, and to wait the happy hour.
+
+_Isabella’s_ dead Mother had left Jewels, of the value of 2000_l._ to
+her Daughter, at her Decease, which Jewels were in the possession, now,
+of the Lady _Abbess_, and were upon Sale, to be added to the Revenue of
+the _Monastery_; and as _Isabella_ was the most Prudent of her Sex, at
+least, had hitherto been so esteem’d, she was intrusted with all that
+was in possession of the Lady _Abbess_, and ’twas not difficult to make
+her self Mistress of all her own Jewels; as also, some 3 or 400_l._ in
+Gold, that was hoarded up in her Ladyship’s Cabinet, against any
+Accidents that might arrive to the _Monastery_; these _Isabella_ also
+made her own, and put up with the Jewels; and having acquainted
+_Henault_, with the Day and Hour of her Escape, he got together what he
+could, and waiting for her, with his Coach, one Night, when no body was
+awake but her self, when rising softly, as she us’d to do, in the Night,
+to her Devotion, she stole so dexterously out of the _Monastery_, as no
+body knew any thing of it; she carry’d away the Keys with her, after
+having lock’d all the Doors, for she was intrusted often with all. She
+found _Henault_ waiting in his Coach, and trusted none but an honest
+Coachman that lov’d him; he receiv’d her with all the Transports of a
+truly ravish’d Lover, and she was infinitely charm’d with the new
+Pleasure of his Embraces and Kisses.
+
+They drove out of Town immediately, and because she durst not be seen in
+that Habit, (for it had been immediate Death for both) they drove into a
+Thicket some three Miles from the Town, where _Henault_ having brought
+her some of his younger Sister’s Clothes, he made her put off her Habit,
+and put on those; and, rending the other, they hid them in a Sand-pit,
+covered over with Broom, and went that Night forty Miles from _Iper_, to
+a little Town upon the River _Rhine_, where, changing their Names, they
+were forthwith married, and took a House in a Country Village, a Farm,
+where they resolv’d to live retir’d, by the name of _Beroone_, and drove
+a Farming Trade; however, not forgetting to set Friends and Engines at
+work, to get their Pardon, as Criminals, first, that had trangress’d the
+Law; and, next, as disobedient Persons, who had done contrary to the
+Will and Desire of their Parents: _Isabella_ writ to her Aunt the most
+moving Letters in the World, so did _Henault_ to his Father; but she was
+a long time, before she could gain so much as an answer from her Aunt,
+and _Henault_ was so unhappy, as never to gain one from his Father; who
+no sooner heard the News that was spread over all the Town and Country,
+that young _Henault_ was fled with the so fam’d _Isabella_, a _Nun_, and
+singular for Devotion and Piety of Life, but he immediately setled his
+Estate on his younger Son, cutting _Henault_ off with all his
+Birthright, which was 5000_l._ a Year. This News, you may believe, was
+not very pleasing to the young Man, who tho’ in possession of the
+loveliest Virgin, and now Wife, that ever Man was bless’d with; yet when
+he reflected, he should have children by her, and these and she should
+come to want, (he having been magnificently Educated, and impatient of
+scanty Fortune) he laid it to Heart, and it gave him a thousand
+Uneasinesses in the midst of unspeakable Joys; and the more be strove to
+hide his Sentiments from _Isabella_, the more tormenting it was within;
+he durst not name it to her, so insuperable a Grief it would cause in
+her, to hear him complain; and tho’ she could live hardly, as being bred
+to a devout and severe Life, he could not, but must let the Man of
+Quality shew it self; even in the disguise of an humbler Farmer: Besides
+all this, he found nothing of his Industry thrive, his Cattel still dy’d
+in the midst of those that were in full Vigour and Health of other
+Peoples; his Crops of Wheat and Barly, and other Grain, tho’ manag’d by
+able and knowing Husbandmen, were all, either Mildew’d, or Blasted, or
+some Misfortune still arriv’d to him; his Coach-Horses would fight and
+kill one another, his Barns sometimes be fir’d; so that it became a
+Proverb all over the Country, if any ill Luck had arriv’d to any body,
+they would say, ‘They had Monsieur _BEROONE’S_ Luck.’ All these
+Reflections did but add to his Melancholy, and he grew at last to be in
+some want, insomuch, that _Isabella_, who had by her frequent Letters,
+and submissive Supplications, to her Aunt, (who lov’d her tenderly)
+obtain’d her Pardon, and her Blessing; she now press’d her for some
+Money, and besought her to consider, how great a Fortune she had brought
+to the _Monastery_, and implor’d, she would allow her some Sallary out
+of it, for she had been marry’d two Years, and most of what she had was
+exhausted. The Aunt, who found, that what was done, could not be undone,
+did, from time to time, supply her so, as one might have liv’d very
+decently on that very Revenue; but that would not satisfy the great
+Heart of _Henault_. He was now about three and twenty Years old, and
+_Isabella_ about eighteen, too young, and too lovely a Pair, to begin
+their Misfortunes so soon; they were both the most Just and Pious in the
+World; they were Examples of Goodness, and Eminent for Holy Living, and
+for perfect Loving, and yet nothing thriv’d they undertook; they had no
+Children, and all their Joy was in each other; at last, one good Fortune
+arriv’d to them, by the Solicitations of the Lady _Abbess_, and the
+_Bishop_, who was her near Kinsman, they got a Pardon for _Isabella’s_
+quitting the _Monastery_, and marrying, so that she might now return
+to her own Country again. _Henault_ having also his Pardon, they
+immediately quit the place, where they had remain’d for two Years, and
+came again into _Flanders_, hoping, the change of place might afford ’em
+better Luck.
+
+_Henault_ then began again to solicit his Cruel Father, but nothing
+would do, he refus’d to see him, or to receive any Letters from him;
+but, at last, he prevail’d so far with him, as that he sent a Kinsman to
+him, to assure him, if he would leave his Wife, and go into the _French_
+Campagn, he would Equip him as well as his Quality requir’d, and that,
+according as he behav’d himself, he should gain his Favour; but if he
+liv’d Idly at home, giving up his Youth and Glory to lazy Love, he would
+have no more to say to him, but race him out of his Heart, and out of
+his Memory.
+
+He had setled himself in a very pretty House, furnished with what was
+fitting for the Reception of any Body of Quality that would live a
+private Life, and they found all the Respect that their Merits deserv’d
+from all the World, every body entirely loving and endeavouring to serve
+them; and _Isabella_ so perfectly had the Ascendent over her Aunt’s
+Heart, that she procur’d from her all that she could desire, and much
+more than she could expect. She was perpetually progging and saving all
+that she could, to enrich and advance her, and, at last, pardoning and
+forgiving _Henault_, lov’d him as her own Child; so that all things
+look’d with a better Face than before, and never was so dear and fond a
+Couple seen, as _Henault_ and _Isabella_; but, at last, she prov’d with
+Child, and the Aunt, who might reasonably believe, so young a Couple
+would have a great many Children, and foreseeing there was no Provision
+likely to be made them, unless he pleas’d his Father, for if the Aunt
+should chance to dye, all their Hope was gone; she therefore daily
+solicited him to obey his Father, and go to the Camp; and that having
+atchiev’d Fame and Renown, he would return a Favourite to his Father,
+and Comfort to his Wife: After she had solicited in vain, for he was not
+able to endure the thought of leaving _Isabella_, melancholy as he was
+with his ill Fortune; the _Bishop_, kinsman to _Isabella_, took him to
+task, and urg’d his Youth and Birth, and that he ought not to wast both
+without Action, when all the World was employ’d; and, that since his
+Father had so great a desire he should go into a Campagn, either to
+serve the _Venetian_ against the _Turks_, or into the _French_ Service,
+which he lik’d best; he besought him to think of it; and since he had
+satisfy’d his Love, he should and ought to satisfy his Duty, it being
+absolutely necessary for the wiping off the Stain of his Sacrilege, and
+to gain him the favour of Heaven, which, he found, had hitherto been
+averse to all he had undertaken: In fine, all his Friends, and all who
+lov’d him, joyn’d in this Design, and all thought it convenient, nor was
+he insensible of the Advantage it might bring him; but Love, which every
+day grew fonder and fonder in his Heart, oppos’d all their Reasonings,
+tho’ he saw all the Brave Youth of the Age preparing to go, either to
+one Army, or the other.
+
+At last, he lets _Isabella_ know, what Propositions he had made him,
+both by his Father, and his Relations; at the very first Motion, she
+almost fainted in his Arms, while he was speaking, and it possess’d her
+with so intire a Grief, that she miscarry’d, to the insupportable
+Torment of her tender Husband and Lover, so that, to re-establish her
+Repose, he was forc’d to promise not to go; however, she consider’d all
+their Circumstances, and weigh’d the Advantages that might redound both
+to his Honour and Fortune, by it; and, in a matter of a Month’s time,
+with the Persuasions and Reasons of her Friends, she suffer’d him to
+resolve upon going, her self determining to retire to the _Monastery_,
+till the time of his Return; but when she nam’d the _Monastery_, he grew
+pale and disorder’d, and obliged her to promise him, not to enter into
+it any more, for fear they should never suffer her to come forth again;
+so that he resolv’d not to depart, till she had made a Vow to him, never
+to go again within the Walls of a Religious House, which had already
+been so fatal to them. She promis’d, and he believ’d.
+
+_Henault_, at last, overcame his Heart, which pleaded so for his Stay,
+and sent his Father word, he was ready to obey him, and to carry the
+first Efforts of his Arms against the common Foes of Christendom, the
+_Turks_; his Father was very well pleas’d at this, and sent him Two
+thousand Crowns, his Horses and Furniture sutable to his Quality, and a
+Man to wait on him; so that it was not long e’re he got himself in order
+to be gone, after a dismal parting.
+
+He made what hast he could to the _French_ Army, then under the Command
+of the Monsignior, the Duke of _Beaufort_, then at _Candia_, and put
+himself a Voluntier under his Conduct; in which Station was _Villenoys_,
+who, you have already heard, was so passionate a Lover of _Isabella_,
+who no sooner heard of _Henault’s_ being arriv’d, and that he was
+Husband to _Isabella_, but he was impatient to learn, by what strange
+Adventure he came to gain her, even from her Vow’d Retreat, when he,
+with all his Courtship, could not be so happy, tho’ she was then free in
+the World, and Unvow’d to Heaven.
+
+As soon as he sent his Name to _Henault_, he was sent for up, for
+_Henault_ had heard of _Villenoys_, and that he had been a Lover of
+_Isabella_; they receiv’d one another with all the endearing Civility
+imaginable for the aforesaid Reason, and for that he was his
+Country-man, tho’ unknown to him, _Villenoys_ being gone to the Army,
+just as _Henault_ came from the _Jesuits_ College. A great deal of
+Endearment pass’d between them, and they became, from that moment, like
+two sworn Brothers, and he receiv’d the whole Relation from _Henault_,
+of his Amour.
+
+It was not long before the Siege began anew, for he arriv’d at the
+beginning of the Spring, and, as soon as he came, almost, they fell to
+Action; and it happen’d upon a day, that a Party of some Four hundred
+Men resolv’d to sally out upon the Enemy, as, when ever they could, they
+did; but as it is not my business to relate the History of the War,
+being wholly unacquainted with the Terms of Battels, I shall only say,
+That these Men were led by _Villenoys_, and that _Henault_ would
+accompany him in this Sally, and that they acted very Noble, and great
+Things, worthy of a Memory in the History of that Siege; but this day,
+particularly, they had an occasion to shew their Valour, which they did
+very much to their Glory; but, venturing too far, they were ambush’d, in
+the persuit of the Party of the Enemies, and being surrounded,
+_Villenoys_ had the unhappiness to see his gallant Friend fall, fighting
+and dealing of Wounds around him, even as he descended to the Earth, for
+he fell from his Horse at the same moment that he kill’d a _Turk_; and
+_Villenoys_ could neither assist him, nor had he the satisfaction to be
+able to rescue his dead Body from under the Horses, but, with much ado,
+escaping with his own Life, got away, in spite of all that follow’d him,
+and recover’d the Town, before they could overtake him: He passionately
+bewail’d the Loss of this brave young Man, and offer’d any Recompence to
+those, that would have ventur’d to have search’d for his dead Body among
+the Slain; but it was not fit to hazard the Living, for unnecessary
+Services to the Dead; and tho’ he had a great mind to have Interr’d him,
+he rested content with what he wish’d to pay his Friends Memory, tho’ he
+could not: So that all the Service now he could do him, was, to write to
+_Isabella_, to whom he had not writ, tho’ commanded by her so to do, in
+three Years before, which was never since she took Orders. He gave her
+an Account of the Death of her Husband, and how Gloriously he fell
+fighting for the Holy Cross, and how much Honour he had won, if it had
+been his Fate to have outliv’d that great, but unfortunate, Day, where,
+with 400 Men, they had kill’d 1500 of the Enemy. The General _Beaufort_
+himself had so great a Respect and Esteem for this young Man, and
+knowing him to be of Quality, that he did him the honour to bemoan him,
+and to send a Condoling Letter to _Isabella_, how much worth her Esteem
+he dy’d, and that he had Eterniz’d his Memory with the last Gasp of his
+Life.
+
+When this News arriv’d, it may be easily imagin’d, what Impressions, or
+rather Ruins, it made in the Heart of this fair Mourner; the Letters
+came by his Man, who saw him fall in Battel, and came off with those few
+that escap’d with _Villenoys_; he brought back what Money he had, a few
+Jewels, with _Isabella’s_ Picture that he carry’d with him and had left
+in his Chamber in the Fort at _Candia_, for fear of breaking it in
+Action. And now _Isabella’s_ Sorrow grew to the Extremity, she thought,
+she could not suffer more than she did by his Absence, but she now found
+a Grief more killing; she hung her Chamber with Black, and liv’d without
+the Light of Day: Only Wax Lights, that let her behold the Picture of
+this Charming Man, before which she sacrific’d Floods of Tears. He had
+now been absent about ten Months, and she had learnt just to live
+without him, but Hope preserv’d her then; but now she had nothing, for
+which to wish to live. She, for about two Months after the News arriv’d,
+liv’d without seeing any Creature but a young Maid, that was her Woman;
+but extream Importunity oblig’d her to give way to the Visits of her
+Friends, who endeavour’d to restore her Melancholy Soul to its wonted
+Easiness; for, however it was oppress’d within, by _Henault’s_ Absence,
+she bore it off with a modest Chearfulness; but now she found, that
+Fortitude and Virtue fail’d her, when she was assur’d, he was no more:
+She continu’d thus Mourning, and thus inclos’d, the space of a whole
+Year, never suffering the Visit of any Man, but of a near Relation; so
+that she acquir’d a Reputation, such as never any young Beauty had, for
+she was now but Nineteen, and her Face and Shape more excellent than
+ever; she daily increas’d in Beauty, which, joyn’d to her Exemplary
+Piety, Charity, and all other excellent Qualities, gain’d her a
+wonderous Fame, and begat an Awe and Reverence in all that heard of her,
+and there was no Man of any Quality, that did not Adore her. After her
+Year was up, she went to the Churches, but would never be seen any where
+else abroad, but that was enough to procure her a thousand Lovers; and
+some, who had the boldness to send her Letters, which, if she receiv’d,
+she gave no Answer to, and many she sent back unread and unseal’d: So
+that she would encourage none, tho’ their Quality was far beyond what
+she could hope; but she was resolv’d to marry no more, however her
+Fortune might require it.
+
+It happen’d, that, about this time, _Candia_ being unfortunately taken
+by the _Turks_, all the brave Men that escap’d the Sword, return’d,
+among them, _Villenoys_, who no sooner arriv’d, but he sent to let
+_Isabella_ know of it, and to beg the Honour of waiting on her; desirous
+to learn what Fate befel her dear Lord, she suffer’d him to visit her,
+where he found her, in her Mourning, a thousand times more Fair,
+(at least, he fancy’d so) than ever she appear’d to be; so that if he
+lov’d her before, he now ador’d her; if he burnt then, he rages now; but
+the awful Sadness, and soft Languishment of her Eyes, hinder’d him from
+the presumption of speaking of his Passion to her, tho’ it would have
+been no new thing; and his first Visit was spent in the Relation of
+every Circumstance of _Henault’s_ Death; and, at his going away, he
+begg’d leave to visit her sometimes, and she gave him permission: He
+lost no time, but made use of the Liberty she had given him; and when
+his Sister, who was a great Companion of _Isabella’s_, went to see her,
+he would still wait on her; so that, either with his own Visits, and
+those of his Sister’s, he saw _Isabella_ every day, and had the good
+luck to see, he diverted her, by giving her Relations of Transactions of
+the Siege, and the Customs and Manners of the _Turks_: All he said, was
+with so good a Grace, that he render’d every thing agreeable; he was,
+besides, very Beautiful, well made, of Quality and Fortune, and fit to
+inspire Love.
+
+He made his Visits so often, and so long, that, at last, he took the
+Courage to speak of his Passion, which, at first, _Isabella_ would by no
+means hear of, but, by degrees, she yielded more and more to listen to
+his tender Discourse; and he liv’d thus with her two Years, before he
+could gain any more upon her Heart, than to suffer him to speak of Love
+to her; but that, which subdu’d her quite was, That her Aunt, the Lady
+_Abbess_, dy’d, and with her, all the Hopes and Fortune of _Isabella_,
+so that she was left with only a Charming Face and Meen, a Virtue, and a
+Discretion above her Sex, to make her Fortune within the World; into a
+Religious House, she was resolv’d not to go, because her Heart deceiv’d
+her once, and she durst not trust it again, whatever it promis’d.
+
+The death of this Lady made her look more favourably on _Villenoys_; but
+yet, she was resolv’d to try his Love to the utmost, and keep him off,
+as long as ’twas possible she could subsist, and ’twas for Interest she
+married again, tho’ she lik’d the Person very well; and since she was
+forc’d to submit her self to be a second time a Wife, she thought, she
+could live better with _Villenoys_, than any other, since for him she
+ever had a great Esteem; and fancy’d the Hand of Heaven had pointed out
+her Destiny, which she could not avoid, without a Crime.
+
+So that when she was again importun’d by her impatient Lover, she told
+him, She had made a Vow to remain three Years, at least, before she
+would marry again, after the Death of the best of Men and Husbands, and
+him who had the Fruits of her early Heart; and, notwithstanding all the
+Solicitations of _Villenoys_, she would not consent to marry him, till
+her Vow of Widowhood was expir’d.
+
+He took her promise, which he urg’d her to give him, and to shew the
+height of his Passion in his obedience; he condescends to stay her
+appointed time, tho’ he saw her every day, and all his Friends and
+Relations made her Visits upon this new account, and there was nothing
+talk’d on, but this design’d Wedding, which, when the time was expir’d,
+was perform’d accordingly with great Pomp and Magnificence, for
+_Villenoys_ had no Parents to hinder his Design; or if he had, the
+Reputation and Virtue of this Lady would have subdu’d them.
+
+The Marriage was celebrated in this House, where she liv’d ever since
+her Return from _Germany_, from the time she got her Pardon; and when
+_Villenoys_ was preparing all things in a more magnificent Order at his
+Villa, some ten Miles from the City, she was very melancholy, and would
+often say, She had been us’d to such profound Retreat, and to live
+without the fatigue of Noise and Equipage, that, she fear’d, she should
+never endure that Grandeur, which was proper for his Quality; and tho’
+the House, in the Country, was the most beautifully Situated in all
+_Flanders_, she was afraid of a numerous Train, and kept him, for the
+most part, in this pretty City Mansion, which he Adorn’d and Enlarg’d,
+as much as she would give him leave; so that there wanted nothing, to
+make this House fit to receive the People of the greatest Quality,
+little as it was: But all the Servants and Footmen, all but one _Valet_,
+and the Maid, were lodg’d abroad, for _Isabella_, not much us’d to the
+sight of Men about her, suffer’d them as seldom as possible, to come in
+her Presence, so that she liv’d more like a _Nun_ still, than a Lady of
+the World; and very rarely any Maids came about her, but _Maria_, who
+had always permission to come, when ever she pleas’d, unless forbidden.
+
+As _Villenoys_ had the most tender and violent Passion for his Wife, in
+the World, he suffer’d her to be pleas’d at any rate, and to live in
+what Method she best lik’d, and was infinitely satisfy’d with the
+Austerity and manner of her Conduct, since in his Arms, and alone, with
+him, she wanted nothing that could Charm; so that she was esteemed the
+fairest and best of Wives, and he the most happy of all Mankind. When
+she would go abroad, she had her Coaches Rich and Gay, and her Livery
+ready to attend her in all the Splendour imaginable; and he was always
+buying one rich Jewel, or Necklace, or some great Rarity or other, that
+might please her; so that there was nothing her Soul could desire, which
+it had not, except the Assurance of Eternal Happiness, which she
+labour’d incessantly to gain. She had no Discontent, but because she was
+not bless’d with a Child; but she submits to the pleasure of Heaven, and
+endeavour’d, by her good Works, and her Charity, to make the Poor her
+Children, and was ever doing Acts of Virtue, to make the Proverb good,
+_That more are the Children of the Barren, than the Fruitful Woman_. She
+liv’d in this Tranquility, belov’d by all, for the space of five Years,
+and Time (and perpetual Obligations from _Villenoys_, who was the most
+indulgent and indearing Man in the World) had almost worn out of her
+Heart the Thought of _Henault_, or if she remember’d him, it was in her
+Prayers, or sometimes with a short sigh, and no more, tho’ it was a
+great while, before she could subdue her Heart to that Calmness; but she
+was prudent, and wisely bent all her Endeavours to please, oblige, and
+caress, the deserving Living, and to strive all she could, to forget the
+unhappy Dead, since it could not but redound to the disturbance of her
+Repose, to think of him; so that she had now transferr’d all that
+Tenderness she had for him, to _Villenoys_.
+
+_Villenoys_, of all Diversions, lov’d Hunting, and kept, at his Country
+House, a very famous Pack of Dogs, which he us’d to lend, sometimes, to
+a young Lord, who was his dear Friend, and his Neighbour in the Country,
+who would often take them, and be out two or three days together, where
+he heard of Game, and oftentimes _Villenoys_ and he would be a whole
+Week at a time exercising in this Sport, for there was no Game near at
+hand. This young Lord had sent him a Letter, to invite him fifteen Miles
+farther than his own _Villa_, to hunt, and appointed to meet him at his
+Country House, in order to go in search of this promis’d Game; So that
+_Villenoys_ got about a Week’s Provision, of what Necessaries he thought
+he should want in that time; and taking only his _Valet_, who lov’d the
+Sport, he left _Isabella_ for a Week to her Devotion, and her other
+innocent Diversions of fine Work, at which she was Excellent, and left
+the Town to go meet this young Challenger.
+
+When _Villenoys_ was at any time out, it was the custom of _Isabella_ to
+retire to her Chamber, and to receive no Visits, not even the Ladies, so
+absolutely she devoted her self to her Husband: All the first day she
+pass’d over in this manner, and Evening being come, she order’d her
+Supper to be brought to her Chamber, and, because it was Washing-day the
+next day, she order’d all her Maids to go very early to Bed, that they
+might be up betimes, and to leave only _Maria_ to attend her; which was
+accordingly done. This _Maria_ was a young Maid, that was very discreet,
+and, of all things in the World, lov’d her Lady, whom she had liv’d
+with, ever since she came from the _Monastery_.
+
+When all were in Bed, and the little light Supper just carry’d up to the
+Lady, and only, as I said, _Maria_ attending, some body knock’d at the
+Gate, it being about Nine of the Clock at Night; so _Maria_ snatching up
+a Candle, went to the Gate, to see who it might be; when she open’d the
+Door, she found a Man in a very odd Habit, and a worse Countenance, and
+asking, Who he would speak with? He told her, Her Lady: My Lady (reply’d
+_Maria_) does not use to receive Visits at this hour; Pray, what is your
+Business? He reply’d, That which I will deliver only to your Lady, and
+that she may give me Admittance, pray, deliver her this Ring: And
+pulling off a small Ring, with _Isabella’s_ Name and Hair in it, he gave
+it _Maria_, who, shutting the Gate upon him, went in with the Ring; as
+soon as _Isabella_ saw it, she was ready to swound on the Chair where
+she sate, and cry’d, Where had you this? _Maria_ reply’d, An old rusty
+Fellow at the Gate gave it me, and desired, it might be his Pasport to
+you; I ask’d his Name, but he said, You knew him not, but he had great
+News to tell you. _Isabella_ reply’d, (almost swounding again) Oh,
+_Maria!_ I am ruin’d. The Maid, all this while, knew not what she meant,
+nor, that that was a Ring given to _Henault_ by her Mistress, but
+endeavouring to recover her, only ask’d her, What she should say to the
+old Messenger? _Isabella_ bid her bring him up to her, (she had scarce
+Life to utter these last words) and before she was well recover’d,
+_Maria_ enter’d with the Man; and _Isabella_ making a Sign to her, to
+depart the Room, she was left alone with him.
+
+_Henault_ (for it was he) stood trembling and speechless before her,
+giving her leisure to take a strict Survey of him; at first finding no
+Feature nor Part of _Henault_ about him, her Fears began to lessen, and
+she hop’d, it was not he, as her first Apprehensions had suggested; when
+he (with the Tears of Joy standing in his Eyes, and not daring suddenly
+to approach her, for fear of encreasing that Disorder he saw in her pale
+Face) began to speak to her, and cry’d, Fair Creature! is there no
+Remains of your _Henault_ left in this Face of mine, all o’regrown with
+Hair? Nothing in these Eyes, sunk with eight Years Absence from you, and
+Sorrows? Nothing in this Shape, bow’d with Labour and Griefs, that can
+inform you? I was once that happy Man you lov’d! At these words, Tears
+stop’d his Speech, and _Isabella_ kept them Company, for yet she wanted
+Words. Shame and Confusion fill’d her Soul, and she was not able to lift
+her Eyes up, to consider the Face of him, whose Voice she knew so
+perfectly well. In one moment, she run over a thousand Thoughts. She
+finds, by his Return, she is not only expos’d to all the Shame
+imaginable; to all the Upbraiding, on his part, when he shall know she
+is marry’d to another; but all the Fury and Rage of _Villenoys_, and the
+Scorn of the Town, who will look on her as an Adulteress: She sees
+_Henault_ poor, and knew, she must fall from all the Glory and
+Tranquility she had for five happy Years triumph’d in; in which time,
+she had known no Sorrow, or Care, tho’ she had endur’d a thousand with
+_Henault_. She dyes, to think, however, that he should know, she had
+been so lightly in Love with him, to marry again; and she dyes, to
+think, that _Villenoys_ must see her again in the Arms of _Henault_;
+besides, she could not recal her Love, for Love, like Reputation, once
+fled, never returns more. ’Tis impossible to love, and cease to love,
+(and love another) and yet return again to the first Passion, tho’ the
+Person have all the Charms, or a thousand times more than it had, when
+it first conquer’d. This Mistery in Love, it may be, is not generally
+known, but nothing is more certain. One may a while suffer the Flame to
+languish, but there may be a reviving Spark in the Ashes, rak’d up, that
+may burn anew; but when ’tis quite extinguish’d, it never returns or
+rekindles.
+
+’Twas so with the Heart of _Isabella_; had she believ’d, _Henault_ had
+been living, she had lov’d to the last moment of their Lives; but, alas!
+the Dead are soon forgotten, and she now lov’d only _Villenoys_.
+
+After they had both thus silently wept, with very different sentiments,
+she thought ’twas time to speak; and dissembling as well as she could,
+she caress’d him in her Arms, and told him, She could not express her
+Surprize and Joy for his Arrival. If she did not Embrace him heartily,
+or speak so Passionately as she us’d to do, he fancy’d it her Confusion,
+and his being in a condition not so fit to receive Embraces from her;
+and evaded them as much as ’twas possible for him to do, in respect to
+her, till he had dress’d his Face, and put himself in order; but the
+Supper being just brought up, when he knock’d, she order’d him to sit
+down and Eat, and he desir’d her not to let _Maria_ know who he was, to
+see how long it would be, before she knew him or would call him to mind.
+But _Isabella_ commanded _Maria_, to make up a Bed in such a Chamber,
+without disturbing her Fellows, and dismiss’d her from waiting at Table.
+The Maid admir’d, what strange, good, and joyful News, this Man had
+brought her Mistress, that he was so Treated, and alone with her, which
+never any Man had yet been; but she never imagin’d the Truth, and knew
+her Lady’s Prudence too well, to question her Conduct. While they were
+at Supper, _Isabella_ oblig’d him to tell her, How he came to be
+reported Dead; of which, she receiv’d Letters, both from Monsieur
+_Villenoys_, and the Duke of _Beaufort_, and by his Man the News, who
+saw him Dead? He told her, That, after the Fight, of which, first, he
+gave her an account, he being left among the Dead, when the Enemy came
+to Plunder and strip ’em, they found, he had Life in him, and appearing
+as an Eminent Person, they thought it better Booty to save me,
+(continu’d he) and get my Ransom, than to strip me, and bury me among
+the Dead; so they bore me off to a Tent, and recover’d me to Life; and,
+after that, I was recover’d of my Wounds, and sold, by the Soldier that
+had taken me, to a Spahee, who kept me a Slave, setting a great Ransom
+on me, such as I was not able to pay. I writ several times, to give you,
+and my Father, an account of my Misery, but receiv’d no Answer, and
+endur’d seven Years of Dreadful Slavery: When I found, at last, an
+opportunity to make my Escape, and from that time, resolv’d, never to
+cut the Hair of this Beard, till I should either see my dearest
+_Isabella_ again, or hear some News of her. All that I fear’d, was, That
+she was Dead; and, at that word, he fetch’d a deep Sigh; and viewing all
+things so infinitely more Magnificent than he had left ’em, or,
+believ’d, she could afford; and, that she was far more Beautiful in
+Person, and Rich in Dress, than when he left her: He had a thousand
+Torments of Jealousie that seiz’d him, of which, he durst not make any
+mention, but rather chose to wait a little, and see, whether she had
+lost her Virtue: He desir’d, he might send for a Barber, to put his Face
+in some handsomer Order, and more fit for the Happiness ’twas that Night
+to receive; but she told him, No Dress, no Disguise, could render him
+more Dear and Acceptable to her, and that to morrow was time enough, and
+that his Travels had render’d him more fit for Repose, than Dressing. So
+that after a little while, they had talk’d over all they had a mind to
+say, all that was very indearing on his side, and as much Concern as she
+could force, on hers; she conducted him to his Chamber, which was very
+rich, and which gave him a very great addition of Jealousie: However, he
+suffer’d her to help him to Bed, which she seem’d to do, with all the
+tenderness in the World; and when she had seen him laid, she said, She
+would go to her Prayers, and come to him as soon as she had done, which
+being before her usual Custom, it was not a wonder to him she stay’d
+long, and he, being extreamly tir’d with his Journy, fell asleep. ’Tis
+true, _Isabella_ essay’d to Pray, but alas! it was in vain, she was
+distracted with a thousand Thoughts what to do, which the more she
+thought, the more it distracted her; she was a thousand times about to
+end her Life, and, at one stroke, rid her self of the Infamy, that, she
+saw, must inevitably fall upon her; but Nature was frail, and the
+Tempter strong: And after a thousand Convulsions, even worse than Death
+it self, she resolv’d upon the Murder of _Henault_, as the only means of
+removing all the obstacles to her future Happiness; she resolv’d on
+this, but after she had done so, she was seiz’d with so great Horror,
+that she imagin’d, if she perform’d it, she should run Mad; and yet, if
+she did not, she should be also Frantick, with the Shames and Miseries
+that would befal her; and believing the Murder the least Evil, since she
+could never live with him, she fix’d her Heart on that; and causing her
+self to be put immediately to Bed, in her own Bed, she made _Maria_ go
+to hers, and when all was still, she softly rose, and taking a Candle
+with her, only in her Night-Gown and Slippers, she goes to the Bed of
+the Unfortunate _Henault_, with a Penknife in her hand; but considering,
+she knew not how to conceal the Blood, should she cut his Throat, she
+resolves to Strangle him, or Smother him with a Pillow; that last
+thought was no sooner borne, but put in Execution; and, as he soundly
+slept, she smother’d him without any Noise, or so much as his Strugling:
+But when she had done this dreadful Deed, and saw the dead Corps of her
+once-lov’d Lord, lye Smiling (as it were) upon her, she fell into a
+Swound with the Horror of the Deed, and it had been well for her she had
+there dy’d; but she reviv’d again, and awaken’d to more and new Horrors,
+she flyes all frighted from the Chamber, and fancies, the Phantom of her
+dead Lord persues her; she runs from Room to Room, and starts and
+stares, as if she saw him continually before her. Now all that was ever
+Soft and Dear to her, with him, comes into her Heart, and, she finds, he
+conquers anew, being Dead, who could not gain her Pity, while Living.
+
+While she was thus flying from her Guilt, in vain, she hears one knock
+with Authority at the Door: She is now more affrighted, if possible, and
+knows not whither to fly for Refuge; she fancies, they are already the
+Officers of Justice, and that Ten thousand Tortures and Wrecks are
+fastening on her, to make her confess the horrid Murder; the knocking
+increases, and so loud, that the Laundry Maids believing it to be the
+Woman that us’d to call them up, and help them to Wash, rose, and,
+opening the Door, let in _Villenoys_; who having been at his Country
+_Villa_, and finding there a Footman, instead of his Friend, who waited
+to tell him, His Master was fallen sick of the Small Pox, and could not
+wait on him, he took Horse, and came back to his lovely _Isabella_; but
+running up, as he us’d to do, to her Chamber, he found her not, and
+seeing a Light in another Room, he went in, but found _Isabella_ flying
+from him, out at another Door, with all the speed she could, he admires
+at this Action, and the more, because his Maid told him Her Lady had
+been a Bed a good while; he grows a little Jealous, and persues her, but
+still she flies; at last he caught her in his Arms, where she fell into
+a swound, but quickly recovering, he set her down in a Chair, and,
+kneeling before her, implor’d to know what she ayl’d, and why she fled
+from him, who ador’d her? She only fix’d a ghastly Look upon him, and
+said, She was not well: ‘Oh! (said he) put not me off with such poor
+Excuses, _Isabella_ never fled from me, when Ill, but came to my Arms,
+and to my Bosom, to find a Cure; therefore, tell me, what’s the matter?’
+At that, she fell a weeping in a most violent manner, and cry’d, She was
+for ever undone: He, being mov’d with Love and Compassion, conjur’d her
+to tell what she ayl’d: ‘Ah! (said she) thou and I, and all of us, are
+undone!’ At this, he lost all Patience and rav’d, and cry’d, Tell me,
+and tell me immediately, what’s the matter? When she saw his Face pale,
+and his Eyes fierce, she fell on her knees, and cry’d, ‘Oh! you can
+never Pardon me, if I should tell you, and yet, alas! I am innocent of
+Ill, by all that’s good, I am.’ But her Conscience accusing her at that
+word, she was silent. If thou art Innocent, said _Villenoys_, taking her
+up in his Arms, and kissing her wet Face, ‘By all that’s Good, I Pardon
+thee, what ever thou hast done.’ ‘Alas! (said she) Oh! but I dare not
+name it, ’till you swear.’ ‘By all that’s Sacred, (reply’d he) and by
+whatever Oath you can oblige me to; by my inviolable Love to thee, and
+by thy own dear Self, I swear, whate’re it be, I do forgive thee;
+I know, thou art too good to commit a Sin I may not with Honour,
+pardon.’
+
+With this, and hearten’d by his Caresses, she told him, That _Henault_
+was return’d; and repeating to him his Escape, she said, She had put him
+to Bed, and when he expected her to come, she fell on her Knees at the
+Bedside, and confess’d, She was married to _Villenoys_; at that word
+(said she) he fetch’d a deep Sigh or two, and presently after, with a
+very little struggling, dy’d; and, yonder, he lyes still in the Bed.
+After this, she wept so abundantly, that all _Villenoys_ could do, could
+hardly calm her Spirits; but after, consulting what they should do in
+this Affair, _Villenoys_ ask’d her, Who of the House saw him? She said,
+Only _Maria_, who knew not who he was; so that, resolving to save
+_Isabella’s_ Honour, which was the only Misfortune to come, _Villenoys_
+himself propos’d the carrying him out to the Bridge, and throwing him
+into the River, where the Stream would carry him down to the Sea, and
+lose him; or, if he were found, none could know him. So _Villenoys_ took
+a Candle, and went and look’d on him, and found him altogether chang’d,
+that no Body would know who he was; he therefore put on his Clothes,
+which was not hard for him to do, for he was scarce yet cold, and
+comforting again _Isabella_, as well as he could, he went himself into
+the Stable, and fetched a Sack, such as they us’d for Oats, a new Sack,
+whereon stuck a great Needle, with a Pack-thread in it; this Sack he
+brings into the House, and shews to _Isabella_, telling her, He would
+put the Body in there, for the better convenience of carrying it on his
+Back. _Isabella_ all this while said but little, but, fill’d with
+Thoughts all Black and Hellish, she ponder’d within, while the Fond and
+Passionate _Villenoys_ was endeavouring to hide her Shame, and to make
+this an absolute Secret: She imagin’d, that could she live after a Deed
+so black, _Villenoys_ would be eternal reproaching her, if not with his
+Tongue, at least with his Heart, and embolden’d by one Wickedness, she
+was the readier for another, and another of such a Nature, as has, in my
+Opinion, far less Excuse, than the first; but when Fate begins to
+afflict, she goes through stitch with her Black Work.
+
+When _Villenoys_, who would, for the Safety of _Isabella’s_ Honour, be
+the sole Actor in the disposing of this Body; and since he was Young,
+Vigorous, and Strong, and able to bear it, would trust no one with the
+Secret, he having put up the Body, and ty’d it fast, set it on a Chair,
+turning his Back towards it, with the more conveniency to take it upon
+his Back, bidding _Isabella_ give him the two Corners of the Sack in his
+Hands; telling her, They must do this last office for the Dead, more, in
+order to the securing their Honour and Tranquility hereafter, than for
+any other Reason, and bid her be of good Courage, till he came back, for
+it was not far to the Bridge, and it being the dead of the Night, he
+should pass well enough. When he had the Sack on his Back, and ready to
+go with it, she cry’d, Stay, my Dear, some of his Clothes hang out,
+which I will put in; and with that, taking the Pack-needle with the
+Thread, sew’d the Sack, with several strong Stitches, to the Collar of
+_Villenoy’s_ Coat, without his perceiving it, and bid him go now; and
+when you come to the Bridge, (said she) and that you are throwing him
+over the Rail, (which is not above Breast high) be sure you give him a
+good swing, least the Sack should hang on any thing at the side of the
+Bridge, and not fall into the Stream; I’le warrant you, (said
+_Villenoys_) I know how to secure his falling. And going his way with
+it, Love lent him Strength, and he soon arriv’d at the Bridge; where,
+turning his Back to the Rail, and heaving the Body over, he threw
+himself with all his force backward, the better to swing the Body into
+the River, whose weight (it being made fast to his Collar) pull’d
+_Villenoys_ after it, and both the live and the dead Man falling into
+the River, which, being rapid at the Bridge, soon drown’d him,
+especially when so great a weight hung to his Neck; so that he dy’d,
+without considering what was the occasion of his Fate.
+
+_Isabella_ remain’d the most part of the Night sitting in her Chamber,
+without going to Bed, to see what would become of her Damnable Design;
+but when it was towards Morning, and she heard no News, she put herself
+into Bed, but not to find Repose or Rest there, for that she thought
+impossible, after so great a Barbarity as she had committed; No, (said
+she) it is but just I should for ever wake, who have, in one fatal
+Night, destroy’d two such Innocents. Oh! what Fate, what Destiny, is
+mine? Under what cursed Planet was I born, that Heaven it self could not
+divert my Ruine? It was not many Hours since I thought my self the most
+happy and blest of Women, and now am fallen to the Misery of one of the
+worst Fiends of Hell.
+
+Such were her Thoughts, and such her Cryes, till the Light brought on
+new Matter for Grief; for, about Ten of the Clock, News was brought,
+that Two Men were found dead in the River, and that they were carry’d to
+the Town-Hall, to lye there, till they were own’d: Within an hour after,
+News was brought in, that one of these Unhappy Men was _Villenoys_; his
+_Valet_, who, all this while, imagin’d him in Bed with his Lady, ran to
+the Hall, to undeceive the People, for he knew, if his Lord were gone
+out, he should have been call’d to Dress him; but finding it, as ’twas
+reported, he fell a weeping, and wringing his Hands, in a most miserable
+manner, he ran home with the News; where, knocking at his Lady’s Chamber
+Door, and finding it fast lock’d, he almost hop’d again, he was
+deceiv’d; but _Isabella_ rising, and opening the Door, _Maria_ first
+enter’d weeping, with the News, and then brought the _Valet_, to testify
+the fatal Truth of it. _Isabella_, tho’ it were nothing but what she
+expected to hear, almost swounded in her Chair; nor did she feign it,
+but felt really all the Pangs of Killing Grief; and was so alter’d with
+her Night’s Watching and Grieving, that this new Sorrow look’d very
+Natural in her. When she was recover’d, she asked a thousand Questions
+about him, and question’d the Possibility of it; for (said she) he went
+out this Morning early from me, and had no signs, in his Face, of any
+Grief or Discontent. Alas! (said the _Valet_) Madam, he is not his own
+Murderer, some one has done it in Revenge; and then told her, how he was
+found fasten’d to a Sack, with a dead strange Man ty’d up within it; and
+every body concludes, that they were both first murder’d, and then drawn
+to the River, and thrown both in. At the Relation of this Strange Man,
+she seem’d more amaz’d than before, and commanding the _Valet_ to go to
+the Hall, and to take Order about the Coroner’s sitting on the Body of
+_Villenoys_, and then to have it brought home: She called _Maria_ to
+her, and, after bidding her shut the Door, she cry’d, Ah, _Maria_! I
+will tell thee what my Heart imagins; but first, (said she) run to the
+Chamber of the Stranger, and see, if he be still in Bed, which I fear he
+is not; she did so, and brought word, he was gone; then (said she) my
+Forebodings are true. When I was in Bed last night, with _Villenoys_
+(and at that word, she sigh’d as if her Heart-Strings had broken) I told
+him, I had lodg’d a Stranger in my House, who was by, when my first Lord
+and Husband fell in Battel; and that, after the Fight, finding him yet
+alive, he spoke to him, and gave him that Ring you brought me last
+Night; and conjur’d him, if ever his Fortune should bring him to
+_Flanders_, to see me, and give me that Ring, and tell me--(with that,
+she wept, and could scarce speak) a thousand tender and endearing
+things, and then dy’d in his Arms. For my dear _Henault’s_ sake (said
+she) I us’d him nobly, and dismiss’d you that Night, because I was
+asham’d to have any Witness of the Griefs I paid his Memory: All this I
+told to _Villenoys_ whom I found disorder’d; and, after a sleepless
+Night, I fancy he got up, and took this poor Man, and has occasion’d his
+Death: At that, she wept anew, and _Maria_, to whom, all that her
+Mistress said, was Gospel, verily believ’d it so, without examining
+Reason; and _Isabella_ conjuring her, since none of the House knew of
+the old Man’s being there, (for Old he appear’d to be) that she would
+let it for ever be a Secret, and, to this she bound her by an Oath; so
+that none knowing _Henault_, altho’ his Body was expos’d there for three
+Days to Publick View: When the Coroner had Set on the Bodies, he found,
+they had been first Murder’d some way or other, and then afterwards
+tack’d together, and thrown into the River, they brought the Body of
+_Villenoys_ home to his House, where, it being laid on a Table, all the
+House infinitely bewail’d it; and _Isabella_ did nothing but swound
+away, almost as fast as she recover’d Life; however, she would, to
+compleat her Misery, be led to see this dreadful Victim of her Cruelty,
+and, coming near the Table, the Body, whose Eyes were before close shut,
+now open’d themselves wide, and fix’d them upon _Isabella_, who, giving
+a great Schreek, fell down in a swound, and the Eyes clos’d again; they
+had much ado to bring her to Life, but, at last, they did so, and led
+her back to her Bed, where she remain’d a good while. Different Opinions
+and Discourses were made, concerning the opening of the Eyes of the Dead
+Man, and viewing _Isabella_; but she was a Woman of so admirable a Life
+and Conversation, of so undoubted a Piety and Sanctity of Living, that
+not the least Conjecture could be made, of her having a hand in it,
+besides the improbability of it; yet the whole thing was a Mystery,
+which, they thought, they ought to look into: But a few Days after, the
+Body of _Villenoys_ being interr’d in a most magnificent manner, and, by
+Will all he had, was long since setled on _Isabella_, the World, instead
+of Suspecting her, Ador’d her the more, and every Body of Quality was
+already hoping to be next, tho’ the fair Mourner still kept her Bed, and
+Languish’d daily.
+
+It happen’d, not long after this, there came to the Town a _French_
+Gentleman, who was taken at the Siege of _Candia_, and was Fellow-Slave
+with _Henault_, for seven Years, in _Turky_, and who had escap’d with
+_Henault_, and came as far as _Liege_ with him, where, having some
+Business and Acquaintance with a Merchant, he stay’d some time; but when
+he parted with _Henault_, he ask’d him, Where he should find him in
+_Flanders_? _Henault_ gave him a Note, with his Name, and Place of
+Abode, if his Wife were alive; if not, to enquire at his Sister’s, or
+his Father’s. This _French_ Man came at last, to the very House of
+_Isabella_, enquiring for this Man, and receiv’d a strange Answer, and
+was laugh’d at; He found, that was the House, and that the Lady; and
+enquiring about the Town, and speaking of _Henault’s_ Return, describing
+the Man, it was quickly discover’d, to be the same that was in the Sack:
+He had his Friend taken up (for he was buried) and found him the same,
+and, causing a _Barber_ to Trim him, when his bushy Beard was off,
+a great many People remember’d him; and the _French_ Man affirming, he
+went to his own Home, all _Isabella’s_ Family, and her self, were cited
+before the Magistrate of Justice, where, as soon as she was accus’d, she
+confess’d the whole Matter of Fact, and, without any Disorder, deliver’d
+her self in the Hands of Justice, as the Murderess of two Husbands (both
+belov’d) in one Night: The whole World stood amaz’d at this; who knew
+her Life a Holy and Charitable Life, and how dearly and well she had
+liv’d with her Husbands, and every one bewail’d her Misfortune, and she
+alone was the only Person, that was not afflicted for her self; she was
+Try’d, and Condemn’d to lose her Head; which Sentence, she joyfully
+receiv’d, and said, Heaven, and her Judges, were too Merciful to her,
+and that her Sins had deserv’d much more.
+
+While she was in Prison, she was always at Prayers, and very Chearful
+and Easie, distributing all she had amongst, and for the Use of, the
+Poor of the Town, especially to the Poor Widows; exhorting daily, the
+Young, and the Fair, that came perpetually to visit her, never to break
+a Vow: for that was first the Ruine of her, and she never since
+prosper’d, do whatever other good Deeds she could. When the day of
+Execution came, she appear’d on the Scaffold all in Mourning, but with a
+Meen so very Majestick and Charming, and a Face so surprizing Fair,
+where no Languishment or Fear appear’d, but all Chearful as a Bride,
+that she set all Hearts a flaming, even in that mortifying Minute of
+Preparation for Death: She made a Speech of half an Hour long, so
+Eloquent, so admirable a warning to the _Vow-Breakers_, that it was as
+amazing to hear her, as it was to behold her.
+
+After she had done with the help of _Maria_, she put off her Mourning
+Vail, and, without any thing over her Face, she kneel’d down, and the
+Executioner, at one Blow, sever’d her Beautiful Head from her Delicate
+Body, being then in her Seven and Twentieth Year. She was generally
+Lamented, and Honourably Bury’d.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The History of the Nun.
+
+
+p. 262 _The Dutchess of Mazarine._ Hortense Mancini, niece of the great
+Cardinal, was born at Rome in 1646. Her beauty and wit were such that
+Charles II (whilst in exile) and other princes of royal blood sought her
+hand. She married, however, 28 February, 1661, Armand-Charles de la
+Meilleraye, said to be ‘the richest subject in Europe’. The union was
+unhappy, and in 1666 she demanded a judicial separation. Fearful,
+however, lest this should be refused, she fled from Paris 13 June, 1668,
+and, after several years of wandering, in 1675 came to London at the
+invitation of Charles II, who assigned her a pension. Her gallantries,
+her friendship with Saint-Evremond, her lavish patronage of the fine
+arts and literature are well known. She died at her Chelsea house in the
+summer of 1699. Her end is said to have been hastened by intemperance.
+Evelyn dubs her ‘the famous beauty and errant lady.’
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE NUN: or, The Perjur’d Beauty.
+
+A TRUE NOVEL.
+
+
+Don _Henrique_ was a Person of great Birth, of a great Estate, of a
+Bravery equal to either, of a most generous Education, but of more
+Passion than Reason: He was besides of an opener and freer Temper than
+generally his Countrymen are (I mean, the _Spaniards_) and always
+engag’d in some Love-Intrigue or other.
+
+One Night as he was retreating from one of those Engagements, Don
+_Sebastian_, whose Sister he had abus’d with a Promise of Marriage, set
+upon him at the Corner of a Street, in _Madrid_, and by the Help of
+three of his Friends, design’d to have dispatch’d him on a doubtful
+Embassy to the Almighty Monarch: But he receiv’d their first
+Instructions with better Address than they expected, and dismiss’d his
+Envoy first, killing one of Don _Sebastian’s_ Friends. Which so enrag’d
+the injur’d Brother, that his Strength and Resolution seem’d to be
+redoubled, and so animated his two surviving Companions, that
+(doubtless) they had gain’d a dishonourable Victory, had not Don
+_Antonio_ accidentally come in to the Rescue; who after a short Dispute,
+kill’d one of the two who attack’d him only; whilst Don _Henrique_, with
+the greatest Difficulty, defended his Life, for some Moments, against
+_Sebastian_, whose Rage depriv’d him of Strength, and gave his Adversary
+the unwish’d Advantage of his seeming Death, tho’ not without
+bequeathing some bloody Legacies to Don _Henrique_. _Antonio_ had
+receiv’d but one slight Wound in the left Arm, and his surviving
+Antagonist none; who however thought it not adviseable to begin a fresh
+Dispute against two, of whose Courage he had but too fatal a Proof, tho’
+one of ’em was sufficiently disabled. The Conquerors, on the other Side,
+politickly retreated, and quitting the Field to the Conquer’d, left the
+Living to bury the Dead, if he could, or thought convenient.
+
+As they were marching off, Don _Antonio_, who all this while knew not
+whose Life he had so happily preserv’d, told his Companion in Arms, that
+he thought it indispensibly necessary that he should quarter with him
+that Night, for his further Preservation. To which he prudently
+consented, and went, with no little Uneasiness, to his Lodgings; where
+he surpriz’d _Antonio_ with the Sight of his dearest Friend. For they
+had certainly the nearest Sympathy in all their Thoughts, that ever made
+two brave Men unhappy: And, undoubtedly, nothing but Death, or more
+fatal Love, could have divided them. However, at present, they were
+united and secure.
+
+In the mean time, Don _Sebastian’s_ Friend was just going to call Help
+to carry off the Bodies, as the ---- came by; who seeing three Men lie
+dead, seiz’d the fourth; who as he was about to justify himself, by
+discovering one of the Authors of so much Blood-shed, was interrupted by
+a Groan from his supposed dead Friend Don _Sebastian_; whom, after a
+brief Account of some Part of the Matter, and the Knowledge of his
+Quality, they took up, and carried to his House; where, within a few
+Days, he was recovered past the Fear of Death. All this While _Henrique_
+and _Antonio_ durst not appear, so much as by Night; nor could be found,
+tho’ diligent and daily Search was made after the first; but upon Don
+_Sebastian’s_ Recovery, the Search ceasing, they took the Advantage of
+the Night, and, in Disguise, retreated to _Seville_. ’Twas there they
+thought themselves most secure, where indeed they were in the greatest
+Danger; for tho’ (haply) they might there have escap’d the murderous
+Attempt of Don _Sebastian_, and his Friends, yet they could not there
+avoid the malicious Influence of their Stars.
+
+This City gave Birth to _Antonio_, and to the Cause of his greatest
+Misfortunes, as well as of his Death. Dona _Ardelia_ was born there,
+a Miracle of Beauty and Falshood. ’Twas more than a Year since Don
+_Antonio_ had first seen and loved her. For ’twas impossible any Man
+should do one without the other. He had had the unkind Opportunity of
+speaking and conveying a Billet to her at Church; and to his greater
+Misfortune, the next Time he found her there, he met with too Kind a
+Return both from her Eyes and from her Hand, which privately slipt a
+Paper into his; in which he found abundantly more than he expected,
+directing him in that, how he should proceed, in order to carry her off
+from her Father with the least Danger he could look for in such an
+Attempt; since it would have been vain and fruitless to have asked her
+of her Father, because their Families had been at Enmity for several
+Years; tho’ _Antonio_ was as well descended as she, and had as ample a
+Fortune; nor was his Person, according to his Sex, any way inferior to
+her’s; and certainly, the Beauties of his Mind were more excellent,
+especially if it be an Excellence to be constant.
+
+He had made several Attempts to take Possession of her; but all prov’d
+ineffectual; however, he had the good Fortune not to be known, tho’ once
+or twice he narrowly escap’d with Life, bearing off his Wounds with
+Difficulty.--(Alas, that the Wounds of Love should cause those of Hate!)
+Upon which she was strictly confin’d to one Room, whose only Window was
+towards the Garden, and that too was grated with Iron; and, once a
+Month, when she went to Church, she was constantly and carefully
+attended by her Father, and a Mother-in-Law, worse than a _Duegna_.
+Under this miserable Confinement _Antonio_ understood she still
+continued, at his Return to _Seville_, with Don _Henrique_, whom he
+acquainted with his invincible Passion for her; lamenting the Severity
+of her present Circumstances, that admitted of no Prospect of Relief;
+which caus’d a generous Concern in Don _Henrique_, both for the
+Sufferings of his Friend, and of the Lady. He proposed several Ways to
+Don _Antonio_, for the Release of the fair Prisoner; but none of them
+was thought practicable, or at least likely to succeed. But _Antonio_,
+who (you may believe) was then more nearly engag’d, bethought himself of
+an Expedient that would undoubtedly reward their Endeavours. ’Twas, that
+Don _Henrique_, who was very well acquainted with _Ardelia’s_ Father,
+should make him a Visit, with Pretence of begging his Consent and
+Admission to make his Addresses to his Daughter; which, in all
+Probability, he could not refuse to Don _Henrique’s_ Quality and Estate;
+and then this Freedom of Access to her would give him the Opportunity of
+delivering the Lady to his Friend. This was thought so reasonable, that
+the very next Day it was put in Practice; and with so good Success, that
+Don _Henrique_ was received by the Father of _Ardelia_ with the greatest
+and most respectful Ceremony imaginable: And when he made the Proposal
+to him of marrying his Daughter, it was embraced with a visible
+Satisfaction and Joy in the Air of his Face. This their first
+Conversation ended with all imaginable Content on both Sides; Don
+_Henrique_ being invited by the Father to Dinner the next Day, when Dona
+_Ardelia_ was to be present; who, at that Time, was said to be
+indispos’d, (as ’tis very probable she was, with so close an
+Imprisonment.) _Henrique_ returned to _Antonio_, and made him happy with
+the Account of his Reception; which could not but have terminated in the
+perfect Felicity of _Antonio_, had his Fate been just to the Merits of
+his Love. The Day and Hour came which brought _Henrique_, with a private
+Commission from his Friend, to _Ardelia_. He saw her;--(ah! would he had
+only seen her veil’d!) and, with the first Opportunity, gave her the
+Letter, which held so much Love, and so much Truth, as ought to have
+preserved him in the Empire of her Heart. It contained, besides,
+a Discovery of his whole Design upon her Father, for the compleating of
+their Happiness; which nothing then could obstruct but her self. But
+_Henrique_ had seen her; he had gaz’d, and swallowed all her Beauties at
+his Eyes. How greedily his Soul drank the strong Poison in! But yet his
+Honour and his Friendship were strong as ever, and bravely fought
+against the Usurper Love, and got a noble Victory; at least he thought
+and wish’d so. With this, and a short Answer to his Letter, _Henrique_
+return’d to the longing _Antonio_; who, receiving the Paper with the
+greatest Devotion, and kissing it with the greatest Zeal, open’d and
+read these Words to himself:
+
+  _Don +Antonio+,_
+
+  _You have, at last, made Use of the best and only Expedient for my
+  Enlargement; for which I thank you, since I know it is purely the
+  Effect of your Love. Your Agent has a mighty Influence on my Father:
+  And you may assure yourself, that as you have advis’d and desir’d
+  me, he shall have no less on me, who am_
+
+  Your’s entirely,
+    And only your’s,
+      _ARDELIA_.
+
+Having respectfully and tenderly kiss’d the Name, he could not chuse but
+shew the _Billet_ to his Friend; who reading that Part of it which
+concern’d himself, started and blush’d: Which _Antonio_ observing, was
+curious to know the Cause of it. _Henrique_ told him, That he was
+surpriz’d to find her express so little Love, after so long an Absence.
+To which his Friend reply’d for her, That, doubtless, she had not Time
+enough to attempt so great a Matter as a perfect Account of her Love;
+and added, that it was Confirmation enough to him of its Continuance,
+since she subscrib’d her self his entirely, and only his.--How blind is
+Love! Don _Henrique_ knew how to make it bear another Meaning; which,
+however, he had the Discretion to conceal. _Antonio_, who was as real in
+his Friendship, as constant in his Love, ask’d him what he thought of
+her Beauty? To which the other answer’d, that he thought it irresistable
+to any, but to a Soul preposses’d, and nobly fortify’d with a perfect
+Friendship:--Such as is thine, my _Henrique_, (added _Antonio_;) yet as
+sincere and perfect as that is, I know you must, nay, I know you do love
+her. As I ought to do, (reply’d _Henrique_.) Yes, yes, (return’d his
+Friend) it must be so; otherwise the Sympathy which unites our Souls
+would be wanting, and consequently our Friendship were in a State of
+Imperfection. How industriously you would argue me into a Crime, that
+would tear and destroy the Foundation of the strongest Ties of Truth and
+Honour! (said _Henrique_.) But (he continu’d) I hope within a few Days,
+to put it out of my Power to be guilty of so great a Sacrilege. I can’t
+determine (said _Antonio_) if I knew that you lov’d one another, whether
+I could easier part with my Friend, or my Mistress. Tho’ what you say,
+is highly generous, (reply’d _Henrique_) yet give me Leave to urge, that
+it looks like a Trial of Friendship, and argues you inclinable to
+Jealousy: But, pardon me, I know it to be sincerely meant by you; and
+must therefore own, that ’tis the best, because ’tis the noblest Way of
+securing both your Friend and Mistress. I need not make use of any Arts
+to secure me of either, (reply’d _Antonio_) but expect to enjoy ’em both
+in a little Time.
+
+_Henrique_, who was a little uneasy with a Discourse of this Nature,
+diverted it, by reflecting on what had pass’d at _Madrid_, between them
+two and Don _Sebastian_ and his Friends; which caus’d _Antonio_ to
+bethink himself of the Danger to which he expos’d his Friend, by
+appearing daily, tho’ in Disguise: For, doubtless, Don _Sebastian_ would
+pursue his Revenge to the utmost Extremity. These Thoughts put him upon
+desiring his Friend, for his own Sake, to hasten the Performance of his
+Attempt; and accordingly, each Day Don _Henrique_ brought _Antonio_
+nearer the Hopes of Happiness, while he himself was hourly sinking into
+the lowest State of Misery. The last Night before the Day in which
+_Antonio_ expected to be bless’d in her Love, Don _Henrique_ had a long
+and fatal Conference with her about her Liberty. Being then with her
+alone in an Arbour of the Garden, which Privilege he had had for some
+Days; after a long Silence, and observing Don _Henrique_ in much
+Disorder, by the Motion of his Eyes, which were sometimes stedfastly
+fix’d on the Ground, then lifted up to her or Heaven, (for he could see
+nothing more beautiful on Earth) she made use of the Privilege of her
+Sex, and began the Discourse first, to this Effect:--Has any Thing
+happened, Sir, since our Retreat hither, to occasion that Disorder which
+is but too visible in your Face, and too dreadful in your continued
+Silence? Speak, I beseech you, Sir, and let me know if I have any Way
+unhappily contributed to it! No, Madam, (replyed he) my Friendship is
+now likely to be the only Cause of my greatest Misery; for To-morrow I
+must be guilty of an unpardonable Crime, in betraying the generous
+Confidence which your noble Father has plac’d in me: To-morrow (added
+he, with a piteous Sigh) I must deliver you into the Hands of one whom
+your Father hates even to Death, instead of doing myself the Honour of
+becoming his Son-in-law within a few Days more.--But--I will consider
+and remind myself, that I give you into the Hands of my Friend; of my
+Friend, that loves you better than his Life, which he has often expos’d
+for your Sake; and what is more than all, to my Friend, whom you love
+more than any Consideration on Earth.--And must this be done? (she
+ask’d.) Is it inevitable as Fate?--Fix’d as the Laws of Nature, Madam,
+(reply’d he) don’t you find the Necessity of it, _Ardelia_? (continued
+he, by Way of Question:) Does not your Love require it? Think, you are
+going to your dear _Antonio_, who alone can merit you, and whom only you
+can love. Were your last Words true (returned she) I should yet be
+unhappy in the Displeasure of a dear and tender Father, and infinitely
+more, in being the Cause of your Infidelity to him: No, Don _Henrique_
+(continued she) I could with greater Satisfaction return to my miserable
+Confinement, than by any Means disturb the Peace of your Mind, or
+occasion one Moment’s Interruption of your Quiet.--Would to Heaven you
+did not, (sigh’d he to himself.) Then addressing his Words more
+distinctly to her, cry’d he, Ah, cruel! ah, unjust _Ardelia_! these
+Words belong to none but _Antonio_; why then would you endeavour to
+persuade me, that I do, or even can merit the Tenderness of such an
+Expression?--Have a Care! (pursued he) have a Care, _Ardelia_! your
+outward Beauties are too powerful to be resisted; even your Frowns have
+such a Sweetness that they attract the very Soul that is not strongly
+prepossessed with the noblest Friendship, and the highest Principles of
+Honour: Why then, alas! did you add such sweet and Charming Accents?
+Why--ah, Don _Henrique_! (she interrupted) why did you appear to me so
+charming in your Person, so great in your Friendship, and so illustrious
+in your Reputation? Why did my Father, ever since your first Visit,
+continually fill my Ears and Thoughts with noble Characters and glorious
+Ideas, which yet but imperfectly and faintly represent the inimitable
+Original!--But--(what is most severe and cruel) why, Don _Henrique_, why
+will you defeat my Father in his Ambition of your Alliance, and me of
+those glorious Hopes with which you had bless’d my Soul, by casting me
+away from you to _Antonio_!--Ha! (cry’d he, starting) what said you,
+Madam? What did _Ardelia_ say? That I had bless’d your Soul with Hopes!
+That I would cast you away to _Antonio_!--Can they who safely arrive in
+their wish’d-for Port, be said to be shipwreck’d? Or, can an abject
+indigent Wretch make a King?--These are more than Riddles, Madam; and I
+must not think to expound ’em. No, (said she) let it alone, Don
+_Henrique_; I’ll ease you of that Trouble, and tell you plainly that I
+love you. Ah! (cry’d he) now all my Fears are come upon me!--How! (ask’d
+she) were you afraid I should love you? Is my Love so dreadful then?
+Yes, when misplac’d (reply’d he;) but ’twas your Falshood that I fear’d:
+Your Love was what I would have sought with the utmost Hazard of my
+Life, nay, even of my future Happiness, I fear, had you not been
+engag’d: strongly oblig’d to love elsewhere, both by your own Choice and
+Vows, as well as by his dangerous Services, and matchless Constancy. For
+which (said she) I do not hate him, tho’ his Father kill’d my Uncle:
+Nay, perhaps (continu’d she) I have a Friendship for him, but no more.
+No more, said you, Madam? (cry’d he;)--but tell me, did you never love
+him? Indeed, I did, (reply’d she;) but the Sight of you has better
+instructed me, both in my Duty to my Father, and in causing my Passion
+for you, without whom I shall be eternally miserable. Ah, then pursue
+your honourable Proposal, and make my Father happy in my Marriage! It
+must not be (return’d Don _Henrique_) my Honour, my Friendship forbids
+it. No (she return’d) your Honour requires it; and if your Friendship
+opposes your Honour, it can have no sure and solid Foundation. Female
+Sophistry! (cry’d _Henrique_;) but you need no Art nor Artifice,
+_Ardelia_, to make me love you: Love you! (pursu’d he:) By that bright
+Sun, the Light and Heat of all the World, you are my only Light and
+Heat--Oh, Friendship! Sacred Friendship, now assist me!--[Here for a
+Time he paus’d, and then afresh proceeded thus,]--You told me, or my
+Ears deceiv’d me, that you lov’d me, _Ardelia_. I did, she reply’d; and
+that I do love you, is as true as that I told you so. ’Tis well;--But
+would it were not so! Did ever Man receive a Blessing thus?--Why,
+I could wish I did not love you, _Ardelia_! But that were impossible--At
+least unjust, (interrupted she.) Well then (he went on) to shew you that
+I do sincerely consult your particular Happiness, without any regard to
+my own, To-morrow I will give you to Don _Antonio_; and as a Proof of
+your Love to me, I expect your ready Consent to it. To let you see, Don
+_Henrique_, how perfectly and tenderly I love you, I will be sacrificed
+To-morrow to Don _Antonio_, and to your Quiet. Oh, strongest, dearest
+Obligation!--cry’d _Henrique_: To-morrow then, as I have told your
+Father, I am to bring you to see the dearest Friend I have on Earth, who
+dares not appear within this City for some unhappy Reasons, and
+therefore cannot be present at our Nuptials; for which Cause, I could
+not but think it my Duty to one so nearly related to my Soul, to make
+him happy in the Sight of my beautiful Choice, e’er yet she be my Bride.
+I hope (said she) my loving Obedience may merit your Compassion; and
+that at last, e’er the Fire is lighted that must consume the Offering,
+I mean the Marriage-Tapers (alluding to the old _Roman_ Ceremony) that
+you or some other pitying Angel, will snatch me from the Altar. Ah, no
+more, _Ardelia_! say no more (cry’d he) we must be cruel, to be just to
+our selves. [Here their Discourse ended, and they walked into the House,
+where they found the good old Gentleman and his Lady, with whom he
+stay’d till about an Hour after Supper, when he returned to his Friend
+with joyful News, but a sorrowful Heart.]
+
+_Antonio_ was all Rapture with the Thoughts of the approaching Day;
+which tho’ it brought Don _Henrique_ and his dear _Ardelia_ to him,
+about five o’Clock in the Evening, yet at the same Time brought his last
+and greatest Misfortune. He saw her then at a She Relation’s of his,
+above three Miles from _Seville_, which was the Place assigned for their
+fatal Interview. He saw her, I say; but ah! how strange! how altered
+from the dear, kind _Ardelia_ she was when last he left her! ’Tis true,
+he flew to her with Arms expanded, and with so swift and eager a Motion,
+that she could not avoid, nor get loose from his Embrace, till he had
+kissed, and sighed, and dropt some Tears, which all the Strength of his
+Mind could not restrain; whether they were the Effects of Joy, or
+whether (which rather may be feared) they were the Heat-drops which
+preceded and threaten’d the Thunder and Tempest that should fall on his
+Head, I cannot positively say; yet all this she was then forced to
+endure, e’er she had Liberty to speak, or indeed to breathe. But as soon
+as she had freed herself from the loving Circle that should have been
+the dear and lov’d Confinement or Centre of a Faithful Heart, she began
+to dart whole Showers of Tortures on him from her Eyes; which that Mouth
+that he had just before so tenderly and sacredly kiss’d, seconded with
+whole Volleys of Deaths crammed in every Sentence, pointed with the
+keenest Affliction that ever pierc’d a Soul. _Antonio_, (she began) you
+have treated me now as if you were never like to see me more: and would
+to Heaven you were not!--Ha! (cry’d he, starting and staring wildly on
+her;) What said you, Madam? What said you, my _Ardelia_? If you like the
+Repetition, take it? (reply’d she, unmoved) _Would to Heaven you were
+never like to see me more!_ Good! very Good! (cry’d he, with a Sigh that
+threw him trembling into a Chair behind him, and gave her the
+Opportunity of proceeding thus:)--Yet, _Antonio_, I must not have my
+Wish; I must continue with you, not out of Choice, but by Command, by
+the strictest and severest Obligation that ever bound Humanity; Don
+_Henrique_, your Friend, commands it; Don _Henrique_, the dearest Object
+of my Soul, enjoins it; Don _Henrique_, whose only Aversion I am, will
+have it so. Oh, do not wrong me, Madam! (cry’d Don _Henrique_.) Lead me,
+lead me a little more by the Light of your Discourse, I beseech you
+(said Don _Antonio_) that I may see your Meaning! for hitherto ’tis
+Darkness all to me. Attend therefore with your best Faculties (pursu’d
+_Ardelia_) and know, That I do most sincerely and most passionately love
+Don _Henrique_; and as a Proof of my Love to him, I have this Day
+consented to be delivered up to you by him; not for your Sake in the
+least, _Antonio_, but purely to sacrifice all the Quiet of my Life to
+his Satisfaction. And now, Sir (continued she, addressing her self to
+Don _Henrique_) now, Sir, if you can be so cruel, execute your own most
+dreadful Decree, and join our Hands, though our Hearts never can meet.
+All this to try me! It’s too much, _Ardelia_--(said _Antonio_:) And then
+turning to Don _Henrique_, he went on, Speak thou! if yet thou art not
+Apostate to our Friendship! Yet speak, however! Speak, though the Devil
+has been tampering with thee too! Thou art a Man, a Man of Honour once.
+And when I forfeit my just Title to that (interrupted Don _Henrique_)
+may I be made most miserable!--May I lose the Blessings of thy
+Friendship!--May I lose thee!--Say on then, _Henrique_! (cry’d
+_Antonio_:) And I charge thee, by all the sacred Ties of Friendship,
+say, Is this a Trial of me? Is’t Illusion, Sport, or shameful murderous
+Truth?--Oh, my Soul burns within me, and I can bear no longer!--Tell!
+Speak! Say on!--[Here, with folded Arms, and Eyes fixed stedfastly on
+_Henrique_, he stood like a Statue, without Motion; unless sometimes,
+when his swelling Heart raised his over-charged Breast.] After a little
+Pause, and a hearty Sigh or two, _Henrique_ began;--Oh, _Antonio_! Oh my
+Friend! prepare thy self to hear yet more dreadful Accents!--I am
+(pursu’d he) unhappily the greatest and most innocent Criminal that e’er
+till now offended:--I love her, _Antonio_,--I love _Ardelia_ with a
+Passion strong and violent as thine!--Oh! summon all that us’d to be
+more than Man about thee, to suffer to the End of my Discourse, which
+nothing but a Resolution like thine can bear! I know it by myself.--Tho’
+there be Wounds, Horror, and Death in each Syllable (interrupted
+_Antonio_) yet prithee now go on, but with all Haste. I will, (returned
+Don _Henrique_) tho’ I feel my own Words have the same cruel Effects on
+me. I say, again, my Soul loves _Ardelia_: And how can it be otherwise?
+Have we not both the self-same Appetites, the same Disgusts? How then
+could I avoid my Destiny, that has decreed that I should love and hate
+just as you do? Oh, hard Necessity! that obliged you to use me in the
+Recovery of this Lady! Alas, can you think that any Man of Sense or
+Passion could have seen, and not have lov’d her! Then how should I,
+whose Thoughts are Unisons to yours, evade those Charms that had
+prevail’d on you?--And now, to let you know, ’tis no Illusion, no Sport,
+but serious and amazing woeful Truth, _Ardelia_ best can tell you whom
+she loves. What I have already said, is true, by Heaven (cry’d she) ’tis
+you, Don _Henrique_, whom I only love, and who alone can give me
+Happiness: Ah, would you would!--With you, _Antonio_, I must remain
+unhappy, wretched, cursed: Thou art my Hell; Don _Henrique_ is my
+Heaven. And thou art mine, (returned he) which here I part with to my
+dearest Friend. Then taking her Hand, Pardon me, _Antonio_, (pursued he)
+that I thus take my last Farewel of all the Tastes of Bliss from your
+_Ardelia_, at this Moment. [At which Words he kiss’d her Hand, and gave
+it to Don _Antonio_; who received it, and gently pressed it close to his
+Heart, as if he would have her feel the Disorders she had caus’d there.]
+Be happy, _Antonio_, (cry’d _Henrique_:) Be very tender of her;
+To-morrow early I shall hope to see thee.--_Ardelia_ (pursued he) All
+Happiness and Joy surround thee! May’st thou ne’er want those Blessings
+thou can’st give _Antonio_!--Farewel to both! (added he, going out.) Ah
+(cry’d she) Farewel to all Joys, Blessings, Happiness, if you forsake
+me.--Yet do not go!--Ah, cruel! (continu’d she, seeing him quit the
+Room) but you shall take my Soul with you. Here she swooned away in Don
+_Antonio’s_ Arms; who, though he was happy that he had her fast there,
+yet was obliged to call in his Cousin, and _Ardelia’s_ Attendants, e’er
+she could be perfectly recovered. In the mean while Don _Henrique_ had
+not the Power to go out of Sight of the House, but wandred to and fro
+about it, distracted in his Soul; and not being able longer to refrain
+her Sight, her last Words still resounding in his Ears, he came again
+into the Room where he left her with Don _Antonio_, just as she revived,
+and called him, exclaiming on his Cruelty, in leaving her so soon. But
+when, turning her Eyes towards the Door, she saw him; Oh! with what
+eager Haste she flew to him! then clasped him round the Waist, obliging
+him, with all the tender Expressions that the Soul of a Lover, and a
+Woman’s too, is capable of uttering, not to leave her in the Possession
+of Don _Antonio_. This so amaz’d her slighted Lover, that he knew not,
+at first, how to proceed in this tormenting Scene; but at last,
+summoning all his wonted Resolution, and Strength of Mind, he told her,
+He would put her out of his Power, if she would consent to retreat for
+some few Hours to a Nunnery that was not above half a Mile distant from
+thence, till he had discoursed his Friend, Don _Henrique_ something more
+particularly than hitherto, about this Matter: To which she readily
+agreed, upon the Promise that Don _Henrique_ made her, of seeing her
+with the first Opportunity. They waited on her then to the Convent,
+where she was kindly and respectfully received by the Lady Abbess; but
+it was not long before her Grief renewing with greater Violence, and
+more afflicting Circumstances, had obliged them to stay with her till it
+was almost dark, when they once more begged the Liberty of an Hour’s
+Absence; and the better to palliate their Design, _Henrique_ told her,
+that he would make use of her Father Don _Richardo’s_ Coach, in which
+they came to Don _Antonio’s_, for so small a Time: which they did,
+leaving only _Eleonora_ her Attendant with her, with out whom she had
+been at a Loss, among so many fair Strangers; Strangers, I mean, to her
+unhappy Circumstances: Whilst they were carry’d near a Mile farther,
+where, just as ’twas dark, they lighted from the Coach, Don _Henrique_,
+ordering the Servants not to stir thence till their Return from their
+private Walk, which was about a Furlong, in a Field that belong’d to the
+Convent. Here Don _Antonio_ told Don _Henrique_, That he had not acted
+honourably; That he had betray’d him, and robb’d him at once both of a
+Friend and Mistress. To which t’other returned, That he understood his
+Meaning, when he proposed a particular Discourse about this Affair,
+which he now perceived must end in Blood: But you may remind your self
+(continued he) that I have kept my Promise in delivering her to you.
+Yes, (cry’d _Antonio_) after you had practis’d foully and basely on her.
+Not at all! (returned _Henrique_) It was her Fate that brought this
+Mischief on her; for I urged the Shame and Scandal of Inconstancy, but
+all in vain, to her. But don’t you love her, _Henrique_? (the other
+ask’d.) Too well, and cannot live without her, though I fear I may feel
+the cursed Effects of the same Inconstancy: However, I had quitted her
+all to you, but you see how she resents it. And you shall see, Sir,
+(cry’d _Antonio_, drawing his Sword in a Rage) how I resent it. Here,
+without more Words, they fell to Action; to bloody Action. (Ah! how
+wretched are our Sex, in being the unhappy Occasion of so many fatal
+Mischiefs, even between the dearest Friends!) They fought on each Side
+with the greatest Animosity of Rivals, forgetting all the sacred Bonds
+of their former Friendship; till Don _Antonio_ fell, and said, dying,
+‘Forgive me, _Henrique_! I was to blame; I could not live without
+her:--I fear she will betray thy Life, which haste and preserve, for my
+sake--Let me not die all at once!--Heaven pardon both of us!--Farewel!
+Oh, haste! Farewel! (_returned Don +Henrique+_) Farewel, thou bravest,
+truest Friend! Farewel thou noblest Part of me!--And Farewel all the
+Quiet of my Soul.’ Then stooping, he kissed his Cheek; but, rising, he
+found he must retire in time, or else must perish through Loss of Blood,
+for he had received two or three dangerous Wounds, besides others of
+less Consequence: Wherefore he made all the convenient Haste he could to
+the Coach, into which, by the Help of the Footmen, he got, and order’d
+’em to drive him directly to Don _Richardo’s_ with all imaginable Speed;
+where he arriv’d in little more than half an Hour’s Time, and was
+received by _Ardelia’s_ Father with the greatest Confusion and Amazement
+that is expressible, seeing him return’d without his Daughter, and so
+desperately wounded. Before he thought it convenient to ask him any
+Question more than to enquire of his Daughter’s Safety, to which he
+receiv’d a short but satisfactory Answer, Don _Richardo_ sent for an
+eminent and able Surgeon, who probed and dress’d Don _Henrique’s_
+Wounds, who was immediately put to Bed; not without some Despondency of
+his Recovery; but (thanks to his kind Stars, and kinder Constitution!)
+he rested pretty well for some Hours that Night, and early in the
+Morning, _Ardelia’s_ Father, who had scarce taken any Rest all that
+Night, came to visit him, as soon as he understood from the Servants who
+watched with him, that he was in a Condition to suffer a short
+Discourse; which, you may be sure, was to learn the Circumstances of the
+past Night’s Adventure; of which Don _Henrique_ gave him a perfect and
+pleasant Account, since he heard that Don _Antonio_, his mortal Enemy,
+was killed; the Assurance of whose Death was the more delightful to him,
+since, by this Relation, he found that _Antonio_ was the Man, whom his
+Care of his Daughter had so often frustrated. Don _Henrique_ had hardly
+made an End of his Narration, e’er a Servant came hastily to give
+_Richardo_ Notice, that the Officers were come to search for his
+Son-in-Law that should have been; whom the Old Gentleman’s wise
+Precaution had secured in a Room so unsuspected, that they might as
+reasonably have imagined the entire Walls of his House had a Door made
+of Stones, as that there should have been one to that close Apartment:
+He went therefore boldly to the Officers, and gave them all the Keys of
+his House, with free Liberty to examine every Room and Chamber; which
+they did, but to no Purpose; and Don _Henrique_ lay there undiscover’d,
+till his Cure was perfected.
+
+In the mean time _Ardelia_, who that fatal Night but too rightly guess’d
+that the Death of one or both her Lovers was the Cause that they did not
+return to their Promise, the next Day fell into a high Fever, in which
+her Father found her soon after he had clear’d himself of those who come
+to search for a Lover. The Assurance which her Father gave her of
+_Henrique’s_ Life, seemed a little to revive her; but the Severity of
+_Antonio’s_ Fate was no Way obliging to her, since she could not but
+retain the Memory of his Love and Constancy; which added to her
+Afflictions, and heightned her Distemper, insomuch that _Richardo_ was
+constrain’d to leave her under the Care of the good Lady Abbess, and to
+the diligent Attendance of _Eleonora_, not daring to hazard her Life in
+a Removal to his own House. All their Care and Diligence was however
+ineffectual; for she languished even to the least Hope of Recovery, till
+immediately after the first Visit of Don _Henrique_, which was the first
+he made in a Month’s Time, and that by Night _incognito_, with her
+Father, her Distemper visibly retreated each Day: Yet when at last she
+enjoy’d a perfect Health of Body, her Mind grew sick, and she plunged
+into a deep Melancholy; which made her entertain a positive Resolution
+of taking the Veil at the End of her Novitiate; which accordingly she
+did, notwithstanding all the Intreaties, Prayers, and Tears both of her
+Father and Lover. But she soon repented her Vow, and often wish’d that
+she might by any Means see and speak to Don _Henrique_, by whose Help
+she promised to her self a Deliverance out of her voluntary
+Imprisonment: Nor were his Wishes wanting to the same Effect, tho’ he
+was forced to fly into _Italy_, to avoid the Prosecution of _Antonio’s_
+Friends. Thither she pursu’d him; nor could he any way shun her, unless
+he could have left his Heart at a Distance from his Body: Which made him
+take a fatal Resolution of returning to _Seville_ in Disguise, where he
+wander’d about the Convent every Night like a Ghost (for indeed his Soul
+was within, while his inanimate Trunk was without) till at last he found
+Means to convey a Letter to her, which both surprized and delighted her.
+The Messenger that brought it her was one of her Mother-in-Law’s Maids,
+whom he had known before, and met accidentally one Night as he was going
+his Rounds, and she coming out from _Ardelia_; with her he prevail’d,
+and with Gold obliged her to Secrecy and Assistance: Which proved so
+successful, that he understood from _Ardelia_ her strong Desire of
+Liberty, and the Continuance of her Passion for him, together with the
+Means and Time most convenient and likely to succeed for her
+Enlargement. The Time was the fourteenth Night following, at twelve
+o’Clock, which just compleated a Month since his Return thither; at
+which Time they both promised themselves the greatest Happiness on
+Earth. But you may observe the Justice of Heaven, in their
+Disappointment.
+
+Don _Sebastian_, who still pursu’d him with a most implacable Hatred,
+had traced him even to _Italy_, and there narrowly missing him, posted
+after him to _Toledo_; so sure and secret was his Intelligence! As soon
+as he arriv’d, he went directly to the Convent where his Sister _Elvira_
+had been one of the Profess’d, ever since Don _Henrique_ had forsaken
+her, and where _Ardelia_ had taken her repented Vow. _Elvira_ had all
+along conceal’d the Occasion of her coming thither from _Ardelia_; and
+tho’ she was her only Confident, and knew the whole Story of her
+Misfortunes, and heard the Name of Don _Henrique_ repeated a hundred
+Times a Day, whom still she lov’d most perfectly, yet never gave her
+beautiful Rival any Cause of Suspicion that she lov’d him, either by
+Words or Looks: Nay more, when she understood that Don _Henrique_ came
+to the Convent with _Ardelia_ and _Antonio_, and at other Times with her
+Father; yet she had so great a Command of her self, as to refrain seeing
+him, or to be seen by him; nor ever intended to have spoken or writ to
+him, had not her Brother Don _Sebastian_ put her upon the cruel
+Necessity of doing the last; who coming to visit his Sister (as I have
+said before) found her with Dona _Ardelia_, whom he never remembred to
+have seen, nor who ever had seen him but twice, and that was about six
+Years before, when she was but ten Years of Age, when she fell
+passionately in Love with him, and continu’d her Passion till about the
+fourteenth Year of her Empire, when unfortunate _Antonio_ first began
+his Court to her. Don _Sebastian_ was really a very desirable Person,
+being at that time very beautiful, his Age not exceeding six and twenty,
+of a sweet Conversation, very brave, but revengeful and irreconcilable
+(like most of his Countrymen) and of an honourable Family. At the Sight
+of him _Ardelia_ felt her former Passion renew; which proceeded and
+continued with such Violence, that it utterly defac’d the Ideas of
+_Antonio_ and _Henrique_. (No Wonder that she who could resolve to
+forsake her God for Man, should quit one Lover for another.) In short,
+she then only wished that he might love her equally, and then she
+doubted not of contriving the Means of their Happiness betwixt ’em. She
+had her Wish, and more, if possible; for he lov’d her beyond the Thought
+of any other present or future Blessing, and fail’d not to let her know
+it, at the second Interview; when he receiv’d the greatest Pleasure he
+could have wish’d, next to the Joys of a Bridal Bed: For she confessed
+her Love to him, and presently put him upon thinking on the Means of her
+Escape; but not finding his Designs so likely to succeed, as those
+Measures she had sent to Don _Henrique_, she communicates the very same
+to Don _Sebastian_, and agreed with him to make use of them on that very
+Night, wherein she had obliged Don _Henrique_ to attempt her
+Deliverance: The Hour indeed was different, being determined to be at
+eleven. _Elvira_, who was present at the Conference, took the Hint; and
+not being willing to disoblige a Brother who had so hazarded his Life in
+Vindication of her, either does not, or would not seem to oppose his
+Inclinations at that Time: However, when he retired with her to talk
+more particularly of his intended Revenge on Don _Henrique_, who he told
+her lay somewhere absconded in _Toledo_, and whom he had resolved, as he
+assured her, to sacrifice to her injur’d Honour, and his Resentments;
+she oppos’d that his vindictive Resolution with all the forcible
+Arguments in a virtuous and pious Lady’s Capacity, but in vain: so that
+immediately upon his Retreat from the Convent, she took the Opportunity
+of writing to Don _Henrique_ as follows, the fatal Hour not being then
+seven Nights distant.
+
+  Don _Henrique_,
+
+  _My Brother is now in Town, in Pursuit of your Life; nay more, of
+  your Mistress, who has consented to make her Escape from the
+  Convent, at the same Place of it, and by the same Means on which she
+  had agreed to give her self entirely to you, but the Hour is eleven.
+  I know, +Henrique+, your +Ardelia+ is dearer to you than your Life:
+  But your Life, your dear Life, is more desired than any Thing in
+  this World, by_
+
+  Your injur’d and forsaken
+
+  _ELVIRA_.
+
+This she delivered to _Richardo’s_ Servant, whom _Henrique_ had gained
+that Night, as soon as she came to visit _Ardelia_, at her usual Hour,
+just as she went out of the Cloister.
+
+Don _Henrique_ was not a little surprized with this _Billet_; however,
+he could hardly resolve to forbear his accustom’d Visits to _Ardelia_,
+at first: But upon more mature Consideration, he only chose to converse
+with her by Letters, which still press’d her to be mindful of her
+Promise, and of the Hour, not taking notice of any Caution that he had
+received of her Treachery. To which she still return’d in Words that
+might assure him of her Constancy.
+
+The dreadful Hour wanted not a Quarter of being perfect, when Don
+_Henrique_ came; and having fixed his Rope-Ladder to that Part of the
+Garden-Wall, where he was expected, _Ardelia_, who had not stir’d from
+that very Place for a Quarter of an Hour before, prepar’d to ascend by
+it; which she did, as soon as his Servant had returned and fixed it on
+the inner-side of the Wall: On the Top of which, at a little Distance,
+she found another fasten’d, for her to descend on the out-side, whilst
+Don _Henrique_ eagerly waited to receive her. She came at last, and flew
+into his Arms; which made _Henrique_ cry out in a Rapture, _Am I at last
+once more happy in having my +Ardelia+ in my Possession!_ She, who knew
+his Voice, and now found she was betray’d, but knew not by whom,
+shriek’d out, _I am ruined! help! help!--Loose me, I charge you,
++Henrique!+ Loose me!_ At that very Moment, and at those very Words,
+came _Sebastian_, attended by only one Servant; and hearing _Henrique_
+reply, _Not all the Powers of Hell shall snatch you from me_, drawing
+his Sword, without one Word, made a furious Pass at him: But his Rage
+and Haste misguided his Arm, for his Sword went quite through
+_Ardelia’s_ Body, who only said, _Ah, wretched Maid!_ and drop’d from
+_Henrique’s_ Arms, who then was obliged to quit her, to preserve his own
+Life, if possible: however he had not had so much Time as to draw, had
+not _Sebastian_ been amazed at this dreadful Mistake of his Sword; but
+presently recollecting himself, he flew with redoubled Rage to attack
+_Henrique_; and his Servant had seconded him, had not _Henrique’s_, who
+was now descended, otherwise diverted him. They fought with the greatest
+Animosity on both Sides, and with equal Advantage; for they both fell
+together: _Ah, my +Ardelia+, I come to thee now!_ (_Sebastian_ groan’d
+out,)--_’Twas this unlucky Arm, which now embraces thee, that killed
+thee._ _Just Heaven!_ (she sigh’d out,)--_Oh, yet have Mercy!_ [Here
+they both dy’d.] _Amen_, (cry’d _Henrique_, dying) _I want it most_--
+_Oh, +Antonio+!_ _Oh, +Elvira+! Ah, there’s the Weight that sinks
+me down.--And yet I wish Forgiveness.--Once more, sweet Heaven, have
+Mercy!_ He could not out-live that last Word; which was echo’d by
+_Elvira_, who all this while stood weeping, and calling out for Help, as
+she stood close to the Wall in the Garden.
+
+This alarmed the Rest of the Sisters, who rising, caus’d the Bell to be
+rung out, as upon dangerous Occasions it used to be; which rais’d the
+Neighbourhood, who came time enough to remove the dead Bodies of the two
+Rivals, and of the late fallen Angel _Ardelia_. The injur’d and
+neglected _Elvira_, whose Piety designed quite contrary Effects, was
+immediately seiz’d with a violent Fever; which, as it was violent, did
+not last long: for she dy’d within four and twenty Hours, with all the
+happy Symptoms of a departing Saint.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE LUCKY MISTAKE.
+
+
+
+
+  TO GEORGE GREENVIEL, ESQ;
+
+  Sir,
+
+At this Critical Juncture, I find the Authors will have need of a
+Protector, as well as the Nation, we having peculiar Laws and Liberties
+to be defended as well as that, but of how different a Nature, none but
+such Judges as you are fit to determine; whatever our Province be, I am
+sure it should be Wit, and you know what Ellevated _Ben_ says, _That
+none can judge of Wit but Wit._ Let the _Heroes_ toyl for Crowns and
+Kingdoms and with what pretences they please. Let the Slaves of State
+drudge on for false and empty Glories, troubling the repose of the World
+and ruining their own to gain uneasy Grandure, whilst you, oh! happyer
+Sir, great enough by your Birth, yet more Illustrious by your Wit, are
+capable of enjoying alone that true Felicity of Mind, which belongs to
+an absolutely Vertuous and Gallant Man, by that, and the lively Notions
+of Honour Imprinted in your Soul, you are above Ambition, and can Form
+_Kings_ and _Heroes_, when ’ere your delicate Fancy shall put you upon
+the Poetical Creation.
+
+You can make those _Heroes_ Lovers too, and inspire ’em with a Language
+so Irresistable as may instruct the Fair, how easily you may Conquer
+when it comes to your turn, to plead for a Heart, nor is your delicate
+Wit the only Charm; your Person claims an equal share of Graces with
+those of your Mind, and both together are capable of rendering you
+Victorious, whereever you shall please to Address ’em, but your Vertue
+keeps you from those Ravages of Beauty, which so wholly imploy the hours
+of the Rest of the Gay and Young, whilst you have business more sollid,
+and more noble for yours.
+
+I would not by this have the World imagine you are therefore exempt from
+the tenderness of Love, it rather seems you were on purpose form’d for
+that Soft Entertainment, such an Agreement there is between the Harmony
+of your Soul and your Person, and sure the _Muses_ who have so divinely
+inspir’d you with Poetic Fires, have furnisht you with that Necessary
+Material (Love) to maintain it, and to make it burn with the more
+Ellevated Flame.
+
+’Tis therefore, Sir, I expect you will the more easily Pardon the
+Dedicating to your idler hours (if any such you have) this little Amour,
+all that I shall say for it, is, that ’tis not Translation but an
+Original, that has more of realty than fiction, if I have not made it
+fuller of intreague, ’twas because I had a mind to keep close to the
+Truth.
+
+I must own, Sir, the Obligations I have to you, deserves a greater
+testimony of my respect, than this little piece, too trivial to bear the
+honour of your Name, but my increasing Indisposition makes me fear I
+shall not have many opportunities of this Kind, and shou’d be loath to
+leave this ungrateful World, without acknowledging my Gratitude more
+signally than barely by word of Mouth, and without wishing you all the
+happiness your merit and admirable Vertues deserve and of assuring you
+how unfeignedly I am (and how Proud of being) Sir,
+
+  Your most obliged and
+    most humble servant
+      A. Behn.
+
+
+
+
+THE LUCKY MISTAKE: A NEW NOVEL.
+
+
+The River _Loyre_ has on its delightful Banks abundance of handsome,
+beautiful and rich Towns and Villages, to which the noble Stream adds no
+small Graces and Advantages, blessing their Fields with Plenty, and
+their Eyes with a thousand Diversions. In one of these happily situated
+Towns, called _Orleans_, where abundance of People of the best Quality
+and Condition reside, there was a rich Nobleman, now retir’d from the
+busy Court, where in his Youth he had been bred, weary’d with the Toils
+of Ceremony and Noise, to enjoy that perfect Tranquillity of Life, which
+is no where to be found but in Retreat, a faithful Friend, and a good
+Library; and, as the admirable _Horace_ says, in a little House and a
+large Garden. Count _Bellyaurd_, for so was this Nobleman call’d, was of
+this Opinion; and the rather, because he had one only Son, called
+_Rinaldo_, now grown to the Age of fifteen, who having all the excellent
+Qualities and Graces of Youth by Nature, he would bring him up in all
+Virtues and noble Sciences, which he believ’d the Gaiety and Lustre of
+the Court might divert: he therefore in his Retirement spar’d no Cost to
+those that could instruct and accomplish him; and he had the best Tutors
+and Masters that could be purchased at Court: _Bellyaurd_ making far
+less Account of Riches than of fine Parts. He found his Son capable of
+all Impressions, having a Wit suitable to his delicate Person, so that
+he was the sole Joy of his Life, and the Darling of his Eyes.
+
+In the very next House, which join’d close to that of _Bellyaurd’s_,
+there lived another Count, who had in his Youth been banished the Court
+of _France_ for some Misunderstandings in some high Affairs wherein he
+was concern’d: his Name was _De Pais_, a Man of great Birth, but of no
+Fortune; or at least one not suitable to the Grandeur of his Original.
+And as it is most natural for great Souls to be most proud (if I may
+call a handsome Disdain by that vulgar Name) when they are most
+depress’d; so _De Pais_ was more retir’d, more estrang’d from his
+Neighbours, and kept a greater Distance, than if he had enjoy’d all he
+had lost at Court; and took more Solemnity and State upon him, because
+he would not be subject to the Reproaches of the World, by making
+himself familiar with it: So that he rarely visited; and, contrary to
+the Custom of those in _France_, who are easy of Access, and free of
+Conversation, he kept his Family retir’d so close, that ’twas rare to
+see any of them; and when they went abroad, which was but seldom, they
+wanted nothing as to outward Appearance, that was fit for his Quality,
+and what was much above his Condition.
+
+This old Count had two only Daughters, of exceeding Beauty, who gave the
+generous Father ten thousand Torments, as often as he beheld them, when
+he consider’d their extreme Beauty, their fine Wit, their Innocence,
+Modesty, and above all their Birth; and that he had not a Fortune to
+marry them according to their Quality; and below it, he had rather see
+them laid in their silent Graves, than consent to it: for he scorn’d the
+World should see him forced by his Poverty to commit an Action below his
+Dignity.
+
+There lived in a neighbouring Town, a certain Nobleman, Friend to _De
+Pais_, call’d Count _Vernole_, a Man of about forty years of Age, of low
+Stature, Complexion very black and swarthy, lean, lame, extreme proud
+and haughty; extracted of a Descent from the Blood-Royal; not extremely
+brave, but very glorious: he had no very great Estate, but was in
+Election of a greater, and of an Addition of Honour from the King, his
+Father having done most worthy Services against the _Hugonots_, and by
+the high Favour of Cardinal _Mazarine_, was represented to his Majesty,
+as a Man related to the Crown, of great Name, but small Estate: so that
+there were now nothing but great Expectations and Preparations in the
+Family of Count _Vernole_ to go to the Court, to which he daily hoped an
+Invitation or Command.
+
+_Vernole’s_ Fortune being hitherto something a-kin to that of _De Pais_,
+there was a greater Correspondency between these two Gentlemen, than
+they had with any other Persons; they accounting themselves above the
+rest of the World, believed none so proper and fit for their
+Conversation, as that of each other: so that there was a very particular
+Intimacy between them. Whenever they went abroad, they clubb’d their
+Train, to make one great Show; and were always together, bemoaning each
+other’s Fortune, and that from so high a Descent, as one from Monarchs
+by the Mother’s side, and the other from Dukes of the Father’s Side,
+they were reduc’d by Fate to the Degree of private Gentlemen. They would
+often consult how to manage Affairs most to Advantage, and often _De
+Pais_ would ask Counsel of _Vernole_, how best he should dispose of his
+Daughters, which now were about their ninth Year the eldest, and eighth
+the youngest. _Vernole_ had often seen those two Buds of Beauty, and
+already saw opening in _Atlante’s_ Face and Mind (for that was the Name
+of the eldest, and _Charlot_ the youngest) a Glory of Wit and Beauty,
+which could not but one Day display it self, with dazling Lustre, to the
+wondring World.
+
+_Vernole_ was a great Virtuoso, of a Humour nice, delicate, critical and
+opinionative: he had nothing of the _French_ Mein in him, but all the
+Gravity of the Don. His ill-favour’d Person, and his low Estate, put him
+out of Humour with the World; and because that should not upbraid or
+reproach his Follies and Defects, he was sure to be beforehand with
+that, and to be always satirick upon it; and lov’d to live and act
+contrary to the Custom and Usage of all Mankind besides.
+
+He was infinitely delighted to find a Man of his own Humour in _De
+Pais_, or at least a Man that would be persuaded to like his so well, to
+live up to it; and it was no little Joy and Satisfaction to him to find,
+that he kept his Daughters in that Severity, which was wholly agreeable
+to him, and so contrary to the Manner and Fashion of the _French_
+Quality; who allow all Freedoms, which to _Vernole’s_ rigid Nature,
+seem’d as so many Steps to Vice, and in his Opinion, the Ruiner of all
+Virtue and Honour in Womankind. _De Pais_ was extremely glad his Conduct
+was so well interpreted, which was no other in him than a proud
+Frugality; who, because they could not appear in so much Gallantry as
+their Quality required, kept ’em retir’d, and unseen to all, but his
+particular Friends, of whom _Vernole_ was the chief.
+
+_Vernole_ never appear’d before _Atlante_ (which was seldom) but he
+assum’d a Gravity and Respect fit to have entertain’d a Maid of Twenty,
+or rather a Matron of much greater Years and Judgment. His Discourses
+were always of Matters of State or Philosophy; and sometimes when _De
+Pais_ would (laughing) say, ‘He might as well entertain _Atlante_ with
+_Greek_ and _Hebrew_,’ he would reply gravely, ‘You are mistaken, Sir,
+I find the Seeds of great and profound Matter in the Soul of this young
+Maid, which ought to be nourish’d now while she is young, and they will
+grow up to very great Perfection: I find _Atlante_ capable of the noble
+Virtues of the Mind, and am infinitely mistaken in my Observations, and
+Art of Physiognomy, if _Atlante_ be not born for greater Things than her
+Fortune does now Promise: She will be very considerable in the World,
+(believe me) and this will arrive to her perfectly from the Force of her
+Charms.’ _De Pais_ was extremely overjoy’d to hear such Good prophesied
+of _Atlante_, and from that Time set a sort of an Esteem upon her, which
+he did not on _Charlot_ his younger; whom, by the Persuasions of
+_Vernole_, he resolv’d to put in a Monastery, that what he had might
+descend to _Atlante_: not but he confess’d _Charlot_ had Beauty
+extremely attractive, and a Wit that promised much, when it should be
+cultivated by Years and Experience; and would shew it self with great
+Advantage and Lustre in a Monastery. All this pleased _De Pais_ very
+well, who was easily persuaded, since he had not a Fortune to marry her
+well in the World.
+
+As yet _Vernole_ had never spoke to _Atlante_ of Love, nor did his
+Gravity think it Prudence to discover his Heart to so young a Maid; he
+waited her more sensible Years, when he could hope to have some Return.
+And all he expected from this her tender Age, was by his daily Converse
+with her, and the Presents he made her suitable to her Years, to
+ingratiate himself insensibly into her Friendship and Esteem, since she
+was not yet capable of Love; but even in that he mistook his Aim, for
+every day he grew more and more disagreeable to _Atlante_, and would
+have been her absolute Aversion, had she known she had every Day
+entertained a Lover; but as she grew in Years and Sense, he seemed the
+more despicable in her Eyes as to his Person; yet as she had respect to
+his Parts and Qualities, she paid him all the Complaisance she could,
+and which was due to him, and so must be confess’d. Tho’ he had a stiff
+Formality in all he said and did, yet he had Wit and Learning, and was a
+great Philosopher. As much of his Learning as _Atlante_ was capable of
+attaining to, he made her Mistress of, and that was no small Portion;
+for all his Discourse was fine and easily comprehended, his Notions of
+Philosophy fit for Ladies; and he took greater Pains with _Atlante_,
+than any Master would have done with a Scholar: So that it was most
+certain, he added very great Accomplishment to her natural Wit: and the
+more, because she took a great Delight in Philosophy; which very often
+made her impatient of his Coming, especially when she had many Questions
+to ask him concerning it, and she would often receive him with a
+Pleasure in her Face, which he did not fail to interpret to his own
+Advantage, being very apt to flatter himself. Her Sister _Charlot_ would
+often ask her, ‘How she could give whole Afternoons to so disagreeable a
+Man. What is it (said she) that charms you so? his tawny Leather-Face,
+his extraordinary high Nose, his wide Mouth and Eye-brows, that hang
+low’ring over his Eyes, his lean Carcase, and his lame and halting
+Hips?’ But _Atlante_ would discreetly reply, ‘If I must grant all you
+say of Count _Vernole_ to be true, yet he has a Wit and Learning that
+will atone sufficiently for all those Faults you mention: A fine Soul is
+infinitely to be preferr’d to a fine Body; this decays, but that’s
+eternal; and Age that ruins one, refines the other.’ Tho’ possibly
+_Atlante_ thought as ill of the Count as her Sister, yet in Respect to
+him, she would not own it.
+
+_Atlante_ was now arriv’d to her thirteenth Year, when her Beauty, which
+every Day increas’d, became the Discourse of the whole Town, which had
+already gain’d her as many Lovers as had beheld her; for none saw her
+without languishing for her, or at least, but what were in very great
+Admiration of her. Every body talk’d of the young _Atlante_, and all the
+Noblemen, who had Sons (knowing the Smallness of her Fortune, and the
+Lustre of her Beauty) would send them, for fear of their being charm’d
+with her Beauty, either to some other part of the World, or exhorted
+them, by way of Precaution, to keep out of her Sight. Old _Bellyaurd_
+was one of those wise Parents; and timely Prevention, as he thought, of
+_Rinaldo’s_ falling in Love with _Atlante_, perhaps was the Occasion of
+his being so: He had before heard of _Atlante_, and of her Beauty, yet
+it had made no Impressions on his Heart; but his Father no sooner forbid
+him Loving, than he felt a new Desire tormenting him, of seeing this
+lovely and dangerous young Person: he wonders at his unaccountable Pain,
+which daily sollicits him within, to go where he may behold this Beauty;
+of whom he frames a thousand Ideas, all such as were most agreeable to
+him; but then upbraids his Fancy for not forming her half so delicate as
+she was; and longs yet more to see her, to know how near she approaches
+to the Picture he has drawn of her in his Mind: and tho’ he knew she
+liv’d the next House to him, yet he knew also she was kept within like a
+vow’d _Nun_, or with the Severity of a _Spaniard_. And tho’ he had a
+Chamber, which had a jutting Window, that look’d just upon the Door of
+Monsieur _De Pais_, and that he would watch many Hours at a time, in
+hope to see them go out, yet he could never get a Glimpse of her; yet he
+heard she often frequented the Church of _our Lady_. Thither then young
+_Rinaldo_ resolv’d to go, and did so two or three Mornings; in which
+time, to his unspeakable Grief, he saw no Beauty appear that charm’d
+him; and yet he fancy’d that _Atlante_ was there, and that he had seen
+her; that some one of those young Ladies that he saw in the Church was
+she, tho’ he had no body to enquire of, and that she was not so fair as
+the World reported; for which he would often sigh, as if he had lost
+some great Expectation. However, he ceased not to frequent this Church,
+and one day saw a young Beauty, who at first glimpse made his Heart leap
+to his Mouth, and fall a trembling again into its wonted Place; for it
+immediately told him, that that young Maid was _Atlante_: she was with
+her Sister _Charlot_, who was very handsome, but not comparable to
+_Atlante_. He fix’d his Eyes upon her as she kneel’d at the Altar; he
+never moved from that charming Face as long as she remain’d there; he
+forgot all Devotion, but what he paid to her; he ador’d her, he burnt
+and languished already for her, and found he must possess _Atlante_ or
+die. Often as he gaz’d upon her, he saw her fair Eyes lifted up towards
+his, where they often met; which she perceiving, would cast hers down
+into her Bosom, or on her Book, and blush as if she had done a Fault.
+_Charlot_ perceiv’d all the Motions of _Rinaldo_, how he folded his
+Arms, how he sigh’d and gaz’d on her Sister; she took notice of his
+Clothes, his Garniture, and every particular of his Dress, as young
+Girls use to do; and seeing him so very handsome, and so much better
+dress’d than all the young Cavaliers that were in the Church, she was
+very much pleas’d with him; and could not forbear saying, in a low
+Voice, to _Atlante_, ‘Look, look my Sister, what a pretty Monsieur
+yonder is! see how fine his Face is, how delicate his Hair, how gallant
+his Dress! and do but look how he gazes on you!’ This would make
+_Atlante_ blush anew, who durst not raise her Eyes for fear she should
+encounter his. While he had the Pleasure to imagine they were talking of
+him, and he saw in the pretty Face of _Charlot_, that what she said was
+not to his Disadvantage, and by the Blushes of _Atlante_, that she was
+not displeas’d with what was spoken to her; he perceiv’d the young one
+importunate with her; and _Atlante_ jogging her with her Elbow, as much
+as to say, Hold your Peace: all this he made a kind Interpretation of,
+and was transported with Joy at the good Omens. He was willing to
+flatter his new Flame, and to compliment his young Desire with a little
+Hope; but the divine Ceremony ceasing, _Atlante_ left the Church, and it
+being very fair Weather, she walk’d home. _Rinaldo_, who saw her going,
+felt all the Agonies of a Lover, who parts with all that can make him
+happy; and seeing only _Atlante_ attended with her Sister, and a Footman
+following with their Books, he was a thousand times about to speak to
+’em; but he no sooner advanc’d a step or two towards ’em to that purpose
+(for he followed them) but his Heart fail’d, and a certain Awe and
+Reverence, or rather the Fears and Tremblings of a Lover, prevented him:
+but when he consider’d, that possibly he might never have so favourable
+an Opportunity again, he resolv’d a-new, and called up so much Courage
+to his Heart, as to speak to _Atlante_; but before he did so, _Charlot_
+looking behind her, saw _Rinaldo_ very near to ’em, and cry’d out with a
+Voice of Joy, ‘Oh! Sister, Sister! look where the handsome _Monsieur_
+is, just behind us! sure he is some-body of Quality, for see he has two
+Footmen that follow him, in just such Liveries, and so rich as those of
+our Neighbour _Monsieur Bellyaurd_.’ At this _Atlante_ could not
+forbear, but before she was aware of it, turn’d her Head, and look’d on
+_Rinaldo_; which encourag’d him to advance, and putting off his Hat,
+which he clapt under his Arm, with a low Bow, said, ‘Ladies, you are
+slenderly attended, and so many Accidents arrive to the Fair in the rude
+Streets, that I humbly implore you will permit me, whose Duty it is as a
+Neighbour, to wait on you to your Door.’ ‘Sir, (said _Atlante_ blushing)
+we fear no Insolence, and need no Protector; or if we did, we should not
+be so rude to take you out of your way, to serve us.’ ‘Madam, (said he)
+my way lies yours. I live at the next Door, and am Son to _Bellyaurd_,
+your Neighbour. But, Madam, (added he) if I were to go all my Life out
+of the way, to do you Service, I should take it for the greatest
+Happiness that could arrive to me; but, Madam, sure a Man can never be
+out of his Way, who has the Honour of so charming Company.’ _Atlante_
+made no reply to this, but blush’d and bow’d: But _Charlot_ said, ‘Nay,
+Sir, if you are our Neighbour, we will give you leave to conduct us
+home; but pray, Sir, how came you to know we are your Neighbours? for we
+never saw you before, to our knowledge.’ ‘My pretty Miss, (reply’d
+_Rinaldo_) I knew it from that transcendent Beauty that appear’d in your
+Faces, and fine Shapes; for I have heard, there was no Beauty in the
+World like that of _Atlante’s_; and I no sooner saw her, but my Heart
+told me it was she.’ ‘Heart! (said _Charlot_ laughing) why, do Hearts
+use to speak?’ ‘The most intelligible of any thing, (_Rinaldo_ reply’d)
+when ’tis tenderly touch’d, when ’tis charm’d and transported.’ At these
+Words he sigh’d, and _Atlante_, to his extreme Satisfaction, blush’d.
+‘Touch’d, charm’d, and transported, (said _Charlot_) what’s that? And
+how do you do to have it be all these things? For I would give any thing
+in the World to have my Heart speak.’ ‘Oh! (said _Rinaldo_) your Heart
+is too young, it is not yet arrived to the Years of Speaking; about
+thirteen or fourteen, it may possibly be saying a thousand soft things
+to you; but it must be first inspir’d by some noble Object, whose Idea
+it must retain.’ ‘What (reply’d the pretty Prattler) I’ll warrant I must
+be in Love?’ ‘Yes, (said _Rinaldo_) most passionately, or you will have
+but little Conversation with your Heart.’ ‘Oh! (reply’d she) I am afraid
+the Pleasure of such a Conversation, will not make me amends for the
+Pain that Love will give me.’ ‘That (said _Rinaldo_) is according as the
+Object is kind, and as you hope; if he love, and you hope, you will have
+double Pleasure: And in this, how great an Advantage have fair Ladies
+above us Men! ’Tis always impossible for you to love in vain, you have
+your Choice of a thousand Hearts, which you have subdu’d, and may not
+only chuse your Slaves, but be assur’d of ’em; without speaking, you are
+belov’d, it needs not cost you a Sigh or a Tear: But unhappy Man is
+often destin’d to give his Heart, where it is not regarded, to sigh, to
+weep, and languish, without any hope of Pity.’ ‘You speak so feelingly,
+Sir, (said _Charlot_) that I am afraid this is your Case.’ ‘Yes, Madam,
+(reply’d _Rinaldo_, sighing) I am that unhappy Man.’ ‘Indeed it is pity
+(said she.) Pray, how long have you been so?’ ‘Ever since I heard of the
+charming _Atlante_, (reply’d he, sighing again) I ador’d her Character;
+but now I have seen her, I die for her.’ ‘For me, Sir! (said _Atlante_,
+who had not yet spoke) this is the common Compliment of all the young
+Men, who pretend to be Lovers; and if one should pity all those Sighers,
+we should have but very little left for our selves.’ ‘I believe (said
+_Rinaldo_) there are none that tell you so, who do not mean as they say:
+Yet among all those Adorers, and those who say they will die for you,
+you will find none will be so good as their Words but _Rinaldo_.’
+‘Perhaps (said _Atlante_) of all those who tell me of Dying, there are
+none that tell me of it with so little Reason as _Rinaldo_, if that be
+your Name, Sir.’ ‘Madam, it is, (said he) and who am transported with an
+unspeakable Joy, to hear those last Words from your fair Mouth: and let
+me, Oh lovely _Atlante!_ assure you, that what I have said, are not
+Words of course, but proceed from a Heart that has vow’d it self
+eternally yours, even before I had the Happiness to behold this divine
+Person; but now that my Eyes have made good all my Heart before
+imagin’d, and did but hope, I swear, I will die a thousand Deaths,
+rather than violate what I have said to you; that I adore you; that my
+Soul and all my Faculties, are charm’d with your Beauty and Innocence,
+and that my Life and Fortune, not inconsiderable, shall be laid at your
+Feet.’ This he spoke with a Fervency of Passion, that left her no Doubt
+of what he had said; yet she blush’d for Shame, and was a little angry
+at her self, for suffering him to say so much to her, the very first
+time she saw him, and accused her self for giving him any Encouragement:
+And in this Confusion she replied, ‘Sir, you have said too much to be
+believ’d; and I cannot imagine so short an Acquaintance can make so
+considerable an Impression; of which Confession I accuse my self much
+more than you, in that I did not only hearken to what you said, without
+forbidding you to entertain me at that rate, but for unheedily speaking
+something, that has encourag’d this Boldness; for so I must call it, in
+a Man so great a Stranger to me.’ ‘Madam (said he) if I have offended by
+the Suddenness of my presumptuous Discovery, I beseech you to consider
+my Reasons for it, the few Opportunities I am like to have, and the
+Impossibility of waiting on you, both from the Severity of your Father
+and mine; who, ere I saw you, warn’d me of my Fate, as if he foresaw I
+should fall in love, as soon as I should chance to see you; and for that
+Reason has kept me closer to my Studies, than hitherto I have been. And
+from that time I began to feel a Flame, which was kindled by Report
+alone, and the Description my Father gave of your wondrous and dangerous
+Beauty: Therefore, Madam, I have not suddenly told you of my Passion.
+I have been long your Lover, and have long languish’d without telling of
+my Pain; and you ought to pardon it now, since it is done with all the
+Respect and religious Awe, that ’tis possible for a Heart to deliver and
+unload it self in; therefore, Madam, if you have by chance uttered any
+thing, that I have taken Advantage or Hope from, I assure you ’tis so
+small, that you have no reason to repent it; but rather, if you would
+have me live, send me not from you, without a Confirmation of that
+little Hope. See, Madam, (said he, more earnestly and trembling) see we
+are almost arriv’d at our Homes, send me not to mine in a Despair that I
+cannot support with Life; but tell me, I shall be bless’d with your
+Sight, sometimes in your Balcony, which is very near to a jetting Window
+in our House, from whence I have sent many a longing Look towards yours,
+in hope to have seen my Soul’s Tormentor.’ ‘I shall be very unwilling
+(said she) to enter into an Intrigue of Love or Friendship with a Man,
+whose Parents will be averse to my Happiness, and possibly mine as
+refractory, tho’ they cannot but know such an Alliance would be very
+considerable, my Fortune not being suitable to yours: I tell you this,
+that you may withdraw in time from an Engagement, in which I find there
+will be a great many Obstacles.’ ‘Oh! Madam, (reply’d _Rinaldo_,
+sighing) if my Person be not disagreeable to you, you will have no
+occasion to fear the rest; ’tis that I dread, and that which is all my
+Fear.’ He, sighing, beheld her with a languishing Look, that told her,
+he expected her Answer; when she reply’d, ‘Sir, if that will be
+Satisfaction enough for you at this time, I do assure you, I have no
+Aversion for your Person, in which I find more to be valu’d, than in any
+I have yet seen; and if what you say be real, and proceed from a Heart
+truly affected, I find, in spite of me, you will oblige me to give you
+Hope.’
+
+They were come so near their own Houses, that he had not time to return
+her any Answer; but with a low Bow he acknowledg’d her Bounty, and
+express’d the Joy her last Words had given him, by a Look that made her
+understand he was charm’d and pleas’d; and she bowing to him with an Air
+of Satisfaction in her Face, he was well assur’d, there was nothing to
+be seen so lovely as she then appear’d, and left her to go into her own
+House: but till she was out of sight, he had not power to stir, and then
+sighing, retired to his own Apartment, to think over all that had past
+between them. He found nothing but what gave him a thousand Joys, in all
+she had said; and he blest this happy Day, and wondred how his Stars
+came so kind, to make him in one hour at once see _Atlante_, and have
+the happiness to know from her Mouth, that he was not disagreeable to
+her: Yet with this Satisfaction, he had a thousand Thoughts mix’d which
+were tormenting, and those were the Fear of their Parents; he foresaw
+from what his Father had said to him already, that it would be difficult
+to draw him to a Consent of his Marriage with _Atlante_. These Joys and
+Fears were his Companions all the Night, in which he took but little
+Rest. Nor was _Atlante_ without her Inquietudes: She found _Rinaldo_
+more in her Thoughts than she wish’d, and a sudden Change of Humour,
+that made her know something was the matter with her more than usual;
+she calls to mind _Rinaldo’s_ speaking of the Conversation with his
+Heart, and found hers would be tattling to her, if she would give way to
+it; and yet the more she strove to avoid it, the more it importun’d her,
+and in spight of all her Resistance, would tell her, that _Rinaldo_ had
+a thousand Charms: It tells her, that he loves and adores her, and that
+she would be the most cruel of her Sex, should she not be sensible of
+his Passion. She finds a thousand Graces in his Person and Conversation,
+and as many Advantages in his Fortune, which was one of the most
+considerable in all those Parts; for his Estate exceeded that of the
+most Noble Men in _Orleans_, and she imagines she should be the most
+fortunate of all Womankind in such a Match. With these Thoughts she
+employ’d all the Hours of the Night; so that she lay so long in Bed the
+next Day, that Count _Vernole_, who had invited himself to Dinner, came
+before she had quitted her Chamber, and she was forc’d to say, she had
+not been well. He had brought her a very fine Book, newly come out, of
+delicate Philosophy, fit for the Study of Ladies. But he appear’d so
+disagreeable to that Heart, wholly taken up with a new and fine Object,
+that she could now hardly pay him that Civility she was wont to do;
+while on the other side that little State and Pride _Atlante_ assum’d,
+made her appear the more charming to him: so that if _Atlante_ had no
+mind to begin a new Lesson of Philosophy, while she fancied her Thoughts
+were much better employ’d, the Count every moment expressing his
+Tenderness and Passion, had as little an Inclination to instruct her, as
+she had to be instructed: Love had taught her a new Lesson, and he would
+fain teach her a new Lesson of Love, but fears it will be a diminishing
+his Gravity and Grandeur, to open the Secrets of his Heart to so young a
+Maid; he therefore thinks it more agreeable to his Quality and Years,
+being about Forty, to use her Father’s Authority in this Affair, and
+that it was sufficient for him to declare himself to Monsieur _De Pais_,
+who he knew would be proud of the Honour he did him. Some time past,
+before he could be persuaded even to declare himself to her Father: he
+fancies the little Coldness and Pride he saw in _Atlante’s_ Face, which
+was not usual, proceeded from some Discovery of Passion, which his Eyes
+had made, or now and then a Sigh, that unawares broke forth; and accuses
+himself of a Levity below his Quality, and the Dignity of his Wit and
+Gravity; and therefore assumes a more rigid and formal Behaviour than he
+was wont, which rendred him yet more disagreeable than before; and ’twas
+with greater Pain than ever, she gave him that Respect which was due to
+his Quality.
+
+_Rinaldo_, after a restless Night, was up very early in the Morning; and
+tho’ he was not certain of seeing his adorable _Atlante_, he dress’d
+himself with all that Care, as if he had been to have waited on her, and
+got himself into the Window, that overlook’d Monsieur _De Pais’s_
+Balcony, where he had not remain’d long, before he saw the pretty
+_Charlot_ come into it, not with any design of seeing _Rinaldo_, but to
+look and gaze about her a little. _Rinaldo_ saw her, and made her a very
+low Reverence, and found some disorder’d Joy on the sight of even
+_Charlot_, since she was Sister to _Atlante_. He call’d to her, (for the
+Window was so near her, he could easily be heard by her) and told her,
+‘He was infinitely indebted to her Bounty, for giving him an Opportunity
+yesterday of falling on that Discourse, which had made him the happiest
+Man in the World’: He said, ‘If she had not by her agreeable
+Conversation encourag’d him, and drawn him from one Word to another, he
+should never have had the Confidence to have told _Atlante_, how much he
+ador’d her.’ ‘I am very glad, (replyed _Charlot_) that I was the
+Occasion of the Beginning of an Amour, which was displeasing to neither
+one nor the other; for I assure you for your Comfort, my Sister nothing
+but thinks on you: We lie together, and you have taught her already to
+sigh so, that I could not sleep for her.’ At this his Face was cover’d
+over with a rising Joy, which his Heart could not contain: And after
+some Discourse, in which this innocent Girl discovered more than
+_Atlante_ wish’d she should, he besought her to become his Advocate; and
+since she had no Brother, to give him leave to assume that Honour, and
+call her Sister. Thus, by degrees, he flatter’d her into a Consent of
+carrying a Letter from him to _Atlante_; which she, who believ’d all as
+innocent as her self, and being not forbid to do so, immediately
+consented to; when he took his Pen and Ink, that stood in the Window,
+with Paper, and wrote _Atlante_ this following Letter:
+
+  _RINALDO_ to _ATLANTE_.
+
+  _If my Fate be so severe, as to deny me the Happiness of sighing out
+  my Pain and Passion daily at your Feet, if there be any Faith in the
+  Hope you were pleased to give me (as ’twere a Sin to doubt) Oh
+  charming +Atlante+! suffer me not to languish, both without
+  beholding you, and without the Blessing of now and then a Billet, in
+  answer to those that shall daily assure you of my eternal Faith and
+  Vows; ’tis all I ask, till Fortune, and our Affairs, shall allow me
+  the unspeakable Satisfaction of claiming you: yet if your Charity
+  can sometimes afford me a sight of you, either from your Balcony in
+  the Evening, or at a Church in the Morning, it would save me from
+  that Despair and Torment, which must possess a Heart so unassur’d,
+  as that of_
+
+  Your Eternal Adorer,
+  _Rin. Bellyaurd_.
+
+He having writ and seal’d this, toss’d it into the Balcony to _Charlot_,
+having first look’d about to see if none perceiv’d them. She put it in
+her Bosom, and ran in to her Sister, whom by chance she found alone;
+_Vernole_ having taken _De Pais_ into the Garden, to discourse him
+concerning the sending _Charlot_ to the Monastery, which Work he desir’d
+to see perform’d, before he declar’d his Intentions to _Atlante_: for
+among all his other good Qualities, he was very avaricious; and as fair
+as _Atlante_ was, he thought she would be much fairer with the Addition
+of _Charlot’s_ Portion. This Affair of his with Monsieur _De Pais_, gave
+_Charlot_ an opportunity of delivering her Letter to her Sister; who no
+sooner drew it from her Bosom, but _Atlante’s_ Face was covered over
+with Blushes: For she imagin’d from whence it came, and had a secret Joy
+in that Imagination, tho’ she thought she must put on the Severity and
+Niceness of a Virgin, who would not be thought to have surrendered her
+Heart with so small an Assault, and the first too. So she demanded from
+whence _Charlot_ had that Letter? Who replyed with Joy, ‘From the fine
+young Gentleman, our Neighbour.’ At which _Atlante_ assum’d all the
+Gravity she could, to chide her Sister; who replied, ‘Well, Sister, had
+you this day seen him, you would not have been angry to have receiv’d a
+Letter from him; he look’d so handsome, and was so richly dress’d, ten
+times finer than he was yesterday; and I promis’d him you should read
+it: therefore, pray let me keep my Word with him; and not only so, but
+carry him an Answer.’ ‘Well (said _Atlante_) to save your Credit with
+Monsieur _Rinaldo_, I will read it’: Which she did, and finish’d with a
+Sigh. While she was reading, _Charlot_ ran into the Garden, to see if
+they were not likely to be surpriz’d; and finding the Count and her
+Father set in an Arbour, in deep Discourse, she brought Pen, Ink, and
+Paper to her Sister, and told her, she might write without the Fear of
+being disturbed: and urged her so long to what was enough her
+Inclination, that she at last obtained this Answer:
+
+  _ATLANTE_ to _RINALDO_.
+
+  _+Charlot+, your little importunate Advocate, has at last subdued me
+  to a Consent of returning you This. She has put me on an Affair with
+  which I am wholly unacquainted; and you ought to take this very
+  kindly from me, since it is the very first time I ever writ to one
+  of your Sex, tho’ perhaps I might with less Danger have done it to
+  any other Man. I tremble while I write, since I dread a
+  Correspondence of this Nature, which may insensibly draw us into an
+  Inconvenience, and engage me beyond the Limits of that Nicety I
+  ought to preserve: For this Way we venture to say a thousand little
+  kind Things, which in Conversation we dare not do: for now none can
+  see us blush. I am sensible I shall this Way put my self too soon
+  into your Power; and tho’ you have abundance of Merit, I ought to be
+  asham’d of confessing, I am but too sensible of it:--But hold--I
+  shall discover for your Repose (which I would preserve) too much of
+  the Heart of_
+
+  Atlante.
+
+She gave this Letter to _Charlot_; who immediately ran into the Balcony
+with it, where she still found _Rinaldo_ in a melancholy Posture,
+leaning his Head on his Hand: She shewed him the Letter, but was afraid
+to toss it to him, for fear it might fall to the Ground; so he ran and
+fetched a long Cane, which he cleft at one End, and held it while she
+put the Letter into the Cleft, and staid not to hear what he said to it.
+But never was Man so transported with Joy, as he was at the reading of
+this Letter; it gives him new Wounds; for to the Generous, nothing
+obliges Love so much as Love: tho’ it is now too much the Nature of that
+inconstant Sex, to cease to love as soon as they are sure of the
+Conquest. But it was far different with our Cavalier; he was the more
+inflamed, by imagining he had made some Impressions on the Heart of
+_Atlante_, and kindled some Sparks there, that in time might increase to
+something more; so that he now resolves to die hers: and considering all
+the Obstacles that may possibly hinder his Happiness, he found none but
+his Father’s Obstinacy, perhaps occasioned by the Meanness of
+_Atlante’s_ Fortune. To this he urged again, that he was his only Son,
+and a Son whom he loved equal to his own Life; and that certainly, as
+soon as he should behold him dying for _Atlante_, which if he were
+forc’d to quit her he must be, he then believed the Tenderness of so
+fond a Parent would break forth into Pity, and plead within for his
+Consent. These were the Thoughts that flatter’d this young Lover all the
+Day; and whether he were riding the Great Horse, or at his Study of
+Philosophy, or Mathematicks, Singing, Dancing, or whatsoever other
+Exercise his Tutors ordered, his Thoughts were continually on _Atlante_.
+And now he profited no more, whatever he seem’d to do: every Day he
+fail’d not to write to her by the Hand of the kind _Charlot_; who, young
+as she was, had conceiv’d a great Friendship for _Rinaldo_, and fail’d
+not to fetch her Letters, and bring him Answers, such as he wish’d to
+receive. But all this did not satisfy our impatient Lover; Absence
+kill’d, and he was no longer able to support himself, without a sight of
+this adorable Maid; he therefore implores, she will give him that
+Satisfaction: And she at last grants it, with a better Will than he
+imagin’d. The next Day was the appointed Time, when she would, under
+Pretence of going to Church, give him an Assignation: And because all
+publick Places were dangerous, and might make a great Noise, and they
+had no private Place to trust to, _Rinaldo_, under Pretence of going up
+the River in his Pleasure-Boat, which he often did, sent to have it made
+ready by the next Day at Ten of the Clock. This was accordingly done,
+and he gave _Atlante_ Notice of his Design of going an Hour or two on
+the River in his Boat, which lay near to such a Place, not far from the
+Church. She and _Charlot_ came thither: and because they durst not come
+out without a Footman or two, they taking one, sent him with a
+_How-do-ye_ to some young Ladies, and told him, he should find them at
+Church: So getting rid of their Spy, they hastened to the River-side,
+and found a Boat and _Rinaldo_, waiting to carry them on board his
+little Vessel, which was richly adorn’d, and a very handsome Collation
+ready for them, of cold Meats, Sallads and Sweetmeats.
+
+As soon as they were come into the Pleasure-Boat, unseen of any, he
+kneel’d at the Feet of _Atlante_, and there utter’d so many passionate
+and tender Things to her, with a Voice so trembling and soft, with Eyes
+so languishing, and a Fervency and a Fire so sincere, that her young
+Heart, wholly uncapable of Artifice, could no longer resist such
+Language, and such Looks of Love; she grows tender, and he perceives it
+in her fine Eyes, who could not dissemble; he reads her Heart in her
+Looks, and found it yielding apace; and therefore assaults it anew, with
+fresh Forces of Sighs and Tears: He implores she would assure him of her
+Heart, which she could no other way do, than by yielding to marry him:
+He would carry her to the next Village, there consummate that Happiness,
+without which he was able to live no longer; for he had a thousand
+Fears, that some other Lover was, or would suddenly be provided for her;
+and therefore he would make sure of her while he had this Opportunity:
+and to that End, he answer’d all the Objections she could make to the
+contrary. But ever, when he named Marriage, she trembled, with fear of
+doing something that she fancy’d she ought not to do without the Consent
+of her Father. She was sensible of the Advantage, but had been so us’d
+to a strict Obedience, that she could not without Horror think of
+violating it; and therefore besought him, as he valued her Repose, not
+to urge her to that: And told him further, That if he fear’d any Rival,
+she would give him what other Assurance and Satisfaction he pleas’d, but
+that of Marriage; which she could not consent to, till she knew such an
+Alliance would not be fatal to him: for she fear’d, as passionately as
+he lov’d her, when he should find she had occasion’d him the Loss of his
+Fortune, or his Father’s Affection, he would grow to hate her. Tho’ he
+answer’d to this all that a fond Lover could urge, yet she was resolv’d,
+and he forc’d to content himself with obliging her by his Prayers and
+Protestations, his Sighs and Tears, to a Contract, which they solemnly
+made each other, vowing on either Side, they would never marry any
+other. This being solemnly concluded, he assum’d a Look more gay and
+contented than before: He presented her a very rich Ring, which she
+durst not put on her Finger, but hid it in her Bosom. And beholding each
+other now as Man and Wife, she suffer’d him all the decent Freedoms he
+could wish to take; so that the Hours of this Voyage seem’d the most
+soft and charming of his Life: and doubtless they were so; every Touch
+of _Atlante_ transported him, every Look pierced his Soul, and he was
+all Raptures of Joy, when he consider’d this charming lovely Maid was
+his own.
+
+_Charlot_ all this while was gazing above-deck, admiring the Motion of
+the little Vessel, and how easily the Wind and Tide bore her up the
+River. She had never been in any thing of this kind before, and was very
+well pleas’d and entertain’d, when _Rinaldo_ call’d her down to eat;
+where they enjoy’d themselves, as well as was possible: and _Charlot_
+was wondring to see such a Content in their Eyes.
+
+But now they thought it was high time for them to return; they fancy the
+Footman missing them at Church, would go home and alarm their Father,
+and the Knight of the Ill-favour’d Countenance, as _Charlot_ call’d
+Count _Vernole_, whose Severity put their Father on a greater
+Restriction of them, than naturally he would do of himself. At the Name
+of this Count, _Rinaldo_ chang’d Colour, fearing he might be some Rival;
+and ask’d _Atlante_, if this _Vernole_ was a-kin to her? She answer’d
+no; but was a very great Friend to her Father, and one who from their
+Infancy had had a particular Concern for their Breeding, and was her
+Master for Philosophy. ‘Ah! (reply’d _Rinaldo_, sighing) this Man’s
+Concern must proceed from something more than Friendship for her
+Father’; and therefore conjur’d her to tell him, whether he was not a
+Lover: ‘A Lover! (reply’d _Atlante_) I assure you, he is a perfect
+Antidote against that Passion’: And tho’ she suffer’d his ugly Presence
+now, she should loathe and hate him, should he but name Love to her.
+
+She said, she believed she need not fear any such Persecution, since he
+was a Man who was not at all amorous; that he had too much of the Satire
+in his Humour, to harbour any Softness there: and Nature had form’d his
+Body to his Mind, wholly unfit for Love. And that he might set his Heart
+absolutely at rest, she assur’d him her Father had never yet propos’d
+any Marriage to her, tho’ many advantageous ones were offer’d him every
+Day.
+
+The Sails being turned to carry them back from whence they came; after
+having discoursed of a thousand Things, and all of Love, and Contrivance
+to carry on their mutual Design, they with Sighs parted; _Rinaldo_
+staying behind in the Pleasure-Boat, and they going a-shore in the
+Wherry that attended: after which he cast many an amorous and sad Look,
+and perhaps was answer’d by those of _Atlante_.
+
+It was past Church-time two or three Hours, when they arrived at home,
+wholly unprepar’d with an Excuse, so absolutely was _Atlante’s_ Soul
+possest with softer Business. The first Person that they met was the
+Footman, who open’d the Door, and began to cry out how long he had
+waited in the Church, and how in vain; without giving them time to
+reply. _De Pais_ came towards ’em, and with a frowning Look demanded
+where they had been? _Atlante_, who was not accustom’d to Excuses and
+Untruth, was a while at a stand; when _Charlot_ with a Voice of Joy
+cry’d out, ‘Oh Sir! we have been a-board of a fine little Ship’: At this
+_Atlante_ blush’d, fearing she would tell the Truth. But she proceeded
+on, and said, that they had not been above a Quarter of an Hour at
+Church, when the Lady ----, with some other Ladies and Cavaliers, were
+going out of the Church, and that spying them, they would needs have ’em
+go with ’em: My Sister, Sir, continu’d she, was very loth to go, for
+fear you should be angry; but my Lady ---- was so importunate with her
+on one side, and I on the other, because I never saw a little Ship in my
+Life, that at last we prevail’d with her: therefore, good Sir, be not
+angry. He promised them he was not. And when they came in, they found
+Count _Vernole_, who had been inspiring _De Pais_ with Severity, and
+counselled him to chide the young Ladies, for being too long absent,
+under Pretence of going to their Devotion. Nor was it enough for him to
+set the Father on, but himself with a Gravity, where Concern and Malice
+were both apparent, reproached _Atlante_ with Levity; and told her, He
+believed she had some other Motive than the Invitation of a Lady, to go
+on Ship-board; and that she had too many Lovers, not to make them doubt
+that this was a design’d thing; and that she had heard Love from some
+one, for whom it was design’d. To this she made but a short Reply, That
+if it was so, she had no reason to conceal it, since she had Sense
+enough to look after herself; and if any body had made love to her, he
+might be assur’d, it was some one whose Quality and Merit deserved to be
+heard: and with a Look of Scorn, she passed on to another Room, and left
+him silently raging within with Jealousy: Which, if before she tormented
+him, this Declaration increas’d it to a pitch not to be conceal’d. And
+this Day he said so much to the Father, that he resolv’d forthwith to
+send _Charlot_ to a Nunnery: and accordingly the next day he bid her
+prepare to go. _Charlot_, who was not yet arrived to the Years of
+Distinction, did not much regret it; and having no Trouble but leaving
+her Sister, she prepared to go to a Nunnery, not many Streets from that
+where she dwelt. The Lady Abbess was her Father’s Kinswoman, and had
+treated her very well, as often as she came to visit her: so that with
+Satisfaction enough, she was condemned to a Monastick Life, and was now
+going for her Probation-Year. _Atlante_ was troubled at her Departure,
+because she had no body to bring and to carry Letters between _Rinaldo_
+and she: however, she took her leave of her, and promis’d to come and
+see her as often as she should be permitted to go abroad; for she fear’d
+now some Constraint extraordinary would be put upon her: and so it
+happened.
+
+_Atlante’s_ Chamber was that to which the Balcony belong’d; and tho’ she
+durst not appear there in the Daytime, she could in the Night, and that
+way give her Lover as many Hours of Conversation as she pleased, without
+being perceiv’d: But how to give _Rinaldo_ notice of this, she could not
+tell; who not knowing _Charlot_ was gone to a Monastery, waited many
+days at his Window to see her: at last, they neither of them knowing who
+to trust with any Message, one day, when he was, as usual upon his
+watch, he saw _Atlante_ step into the Balcony, who having a Letter, in
+which she had put a piece of Lead, she tost it into his Window, whose
+Casement was open, and run in again unperceived by any but himself. The
+Paper contained only this:
+
+  _My Chamber is that which looks into the Balcony; from whence, tho’
+  I cannot converse with you in the Day, I can at Night, when I am
+  retired to go to bed: therefore be at your Window. +Farewel+._
+
+There needed no more to make him a diligent Watcher: and accordingly she
+was no sooner retired to her Chamber, but she would come into the
+Balcony, where she fail’d not to see him attending at his Window. This
+happy Contrivance was thus carry’d on for many Nights, where they
+entertain’d one another with all the Endearment that two Hearts could
+dictate, who were perfectly united and assur’d of each other; and this
+pleasing Conversation would often last till Day appear’d, and forced
+them to part.
+
+But old _Bellyaurd_ perceiving his Son frequent that Chamber more than
+usual, fancy’d something extraordinary must be the Cause of it; and one
+night asking for his Son, his Valet told him, he was gone into the great
+Chamber, so this was called: _Bellyaurd_ asked the Valet what he did
+there; he told him he could not tell; for often he had lighted him
+thither, and that his Master would take the Candle from him at the
+Chamber-Door, and suffer him to go no farther. Tho’ the old Gentleman
+could not imagine what Affairs he could have alone every Night in that
+Chamber, he had a Curiosity to see: and one unlucky Night, putting off
+his Shoes, he came to the Door of the Chamber, which was open; he
+enter’d softly, and saw the Candle set in the Chimney, and his Son at a
+great open Bay-Window: he stopt awhile to wait when he would turn, but
+finding him unmoveable, he advanced something farther, and at last heard
+the soft Dialogue of Love between him and _Atlante_, whom he knew to be
+she, by his often calling her by her Name in their Discourse. He heard
+enough to confirm him how Matters went; and unseen as he came, he
+returned, full of Indignation, and thought how to prevent so great an
+Evil, as this Passion of his Son might produce: at first he thought to
+round him severely in the Ear about it, and upbraid him for doing the
+only thing he had thought fit to forbid him; but then he thought that
+would but terrify him for awhile, and he would return again, where he
+had so great an Inclination, if he were near her; he therefore resolves
+to send him to _Paris_, that by Absence he might forget the young Beauty
+that had charm’d his Youth. Therefore, without letting _Rinaldo_ know
+the Reason, and without taking Notice that he knew any thing of his
+Amour, he came to him one day, and told him, all the Masters he had for
+the improving him in noble Sciences were very dull, or very remiss: and
+that he resolved he should go for a Year or two to the Academy at
+_Paris_. To this the Son made a thousand Evasions; but the Father was
+positive, and not to be persuaded by all his Reasons: And finding he
+should absolutely displease him if he refus’d to go, and not daring to
+tell him the dear Cause of his Desire to remain at _Orleans_, he
+therefore, with a breaking Heart, consents to go, nay, resolves it, tho’
+it should be his Death. But alas! he considers that this Parting will
+not only prove the greatest Torment upon Earth to him, but that
+_Atlante_ will share in his Misfortunes also: This Thought gives him a
+double Torment, and yet he finds no Way to evade it.
+
+The Night that finished this fatal Day, he goes again to his wonted
+Station, the Window; where he had not sighed very long, but he saw
+_Atlante_ enter the Balcony: He was not able a great while to speak to
+her, or to utter one Word. The Night was light enough to see him at the
+wonted Place; and she admires at his Silence, and demands the Reason in
+such obliging Terms as adds to his Grief; and he, with a deep Sigh,
+reply’d, ‘Urge me not, my fair _Atlante_, to speak, lest by obeying you
+I give you more cause of Grief than my Silence is capable of doing’: and
+then sighing again, he held his peace, and gave her leave to ask the
+Cause of these last Words. But when he made no Reply but by sighing, she
+imagin’d it much worse than indeed it was; and with a trembling and
+fainting Voice, she cried, ‘Oh! _Rinaldo_, give me leave to divine that
+cruel News you are so unwilling to tell me: It is so,’ added she, ‘you
+are destin’d to some more fortunate Maid than _Atlante_.’ At this Tears
+stopped her Speech, and she could utter no more. ‘No, my dearest Charmer
+(reply’d _Rinaldo_, elevating his Voice) if that were all, you should
+see with what Fortitude I would die, rather than obey any such Commands.
+I am vow’d yours to the last Moment of my Life; and will be yours in
+spite of all the Opposition in the World: that Cruelty I could evade,
+but cannot this that threatens me.’ ‘Ah! (cried _Atlante_) let Fate do
+her worst, so she still continue _Rinaldo_ mine, and keep that Faith he
+hath sworn to me entire: What can she do beside, that can afflict me?’
+‘She can separate me (cried he) for some time from _Atlante_.’ ‘Oh!
+(reply’d she) all Misfortunes fall so below that which I first imagin’d,
+that methinks I do not resent this, as I should otherwise have done: but
+I know, when I have a little more consider’d it, I shall even die with
+the Grief of it; Absence being so great an Enemy to Love, and making us
+soon forget the Object belov’d: This, tho’ I never experienc’d, I have
+heard, and fear it may be my Fate.’ He then convinc’d her Fears with a
+thousand new Vows, and a thousand Imprecations of Constancy. She then
+asked him, ‘If their Loves were discover’d, that he was with such haste
+to depart?’ He told her, ‘Nothing of that was the Cause; and he could
+almost wish it were discover’d, since he could resolutely then refuse to
+go: but it was only to cultivate his Mind more effectually than he could
+do here; ’twas the Care of his Father to accomplish him the more; and
+therefore he could not contradict it. But (said he) I am not sent where
+Seas shall part us, nor vast Distances of Earth, but to _Paris_, from
+whence he might come in two Days to see her again; and that he would
+expect from that Balcony, that had given him so many happy Moments, many
+more when he should come to see her.’ He besought her to send him away
+with all the Satisfaction she could, which she could no otherwise do,
+than by giving him new Assurances that she would never give away that
+Right he had in her to any other Lover: She vows this with innumerable
+Tears; and is almost angry with him for questioning her Faith. He tells
+her he has but one Night more to stay, and his Grief would be
+unspeakable, if he should not be able to take a better leave of her,
+than at a Window; and that, if she would give him leave, he would by a
+Rope or two, tied together, so as it may serve for Steps, ascend her
+Balcony; he not having time to provide a Ladder of Ropes. She tells him
+she has so great a Confidence in his Virtue and Love, that she will
+refuse him nothing, tho’ it would be a very bold Venture for a Maid, to
+trust her self with a passionate young Man, in silence of Night: and
+tho’ she did not extort a Vow from him to secure her, she expected he
+would have a care of her Honour. He swore to her, his Love was too
+religious for so base an Attempt. There needed not many Vows to confirm
+her Faith; and it was agreed on between them, that he should come the
+next Night into her Chamber.
+
+It happen’d that Night, as it often did, that Count _Vernole_ lay with
+Monsieur _De Pais_, which was in a Ground-Room, just under that of
+_Atlante’s_. As soon as she knew all were in bed, she gave the word to
+_Rinaldo_, who was attending with the Impatience of a passionate Lover
+below, under the Window; and who no sooner heard the Balcony open, but
+he ascended with some difficulty, and enter’d the Chamber, where he
+found _Atlante_ trembling with Joy and Fear: He throws himself at her
+Feet, as unable to speak as she; who nothing but blushed and bent down
+her Eyes, hardly daring to glance them towards the dear Object of her
+Desires, the Lord of all her Vows: She was asham’d to see a Man in her
+Chamber, where yet none had ever been alone, and by Night too. He saw
+her Fear, and felt her trembling; and after a thousand Sighs of Love had
+made way for Speech, he besought her to fear nothing from him, for his
+Flame was too sacred, and his Passion too holy to offer any thing but
+what Honour with Love might afford him. At last he brought her to some
+Courage, and the Roses of her fair Cheeks assum’d their wonted Colour,
+not blushing too red, nor languishing too pale. But when the
+Conversation began between them, it was the softest in the world: They
+said all that parting Lovers could say; all that Wit and Tenderness
+could express: They exchanged their Vows anew; and to confirm his, he
+tied a Bracelet of Diamonds about her Arm, and she returned him one of
+her Hair, which he had long begged, and she had on purpose made, which
+clasped together with Diamonds; this she put about his Arm, and he swore
+to carry it to his Grave. The Night was far spent in tender Vows, soft
+Sighs and Tears on both sides, and it was high time to part: but, as if
+Death had been to have arrived to them in that Minute, they both
+linger’d away the time, like Lovers who had forgot themselves; and the
+Day was near approaching when he bid farewel, which he repeated very
+often: for still he was interrupted by some commanding Softness from
+_Atlante_, and then lost all his Power of going; till she, more
+courageous and careful of his Interest and her own Fame, forc’d him from
+her: and it was happy she did, for he was no sooner got over the
+Balcony, and she had flung him down his Rope, and shut the Door, but
+_Vernole_, whom Love and Contrivance kept waking, fancy’d several times
+he heard a Noise in _Atlante’s_ Chamber. And whether in passing over the
+Balcony, _Rinaldo_ made any Noise or not, or whether it were still his
+jealous Fancy, he came up in his Night-Gown, with a Pistol in his Hand.
+_Atlante_ was not so much lost in Grief, tho’ she were all in Tears, but
+she heard a Man come up, and imagin’d it had been her Father, she not
+knowing of Count _Vernole’s_ lying in the House that Night; if she had,
+she possibly had taken more care to have been silent; but whoever it
+was, she could not get to bed soon enough, and therefore turn’d her self
+to her Dressing-Table, where a Candle stood, and where lay a Book open
+of the Story of _Ariadne_ and _Theseus_. The Count turning the Latch,
+enter’d halting into her Chamber in his Night-Gown clapped close about
+him, which betray’d an ill-favour’d Shape, his Night-Cap on, without a
+Perriwig, which discover’d all his lean wither’d Jaws, his pale Face,
+and his Eyes staring: and made altogether so dreadful a Figure, that
+_Atlante_, who no more dreamt of him than of a Devil, had possibly have
+rather seen the last. She gave a great Shriek, which frighted _Vernole_;
+so both stood for a while staring on each other, till both were
+recollected: He told her the Care of her Honour had brought him thither;
+and then rolling his small Eyes round the Chamber, to see if he could
+discover any body, he proceeded, and cry’d, ‘Madam, if I had no other
+Motive than your being up at this time of Night, or rather of Day,
+I could easily guess how you have been entertain’d.’ ‘What Insolence is
+this (said she, all in a rage) when to cover your Boldness of
+approaching my Chamber at this Hour, you would question how I have been
+entertain’d! Either explain your self, or quit my Chamber; for I do not
+use to see such terrible Objects here.’ ‘Possibly those you do see (said
+the Count) are indeed more agreeable, but I am afraid have not that
+Regard to your Honour as I have’: And at that word he stepped to the
+Balcony, open’d it, and look’d out; but seeing no body, he shut it to
+again. This enraged _Atlante_ beyond all Patience; and snatching the
+Pistol out of his Hand, she told him, He deserved to have it aimed at
+his Head, for having the Impudence to question her Honour, or her
+Conduct; and commanded him to avoid her Chamber as he lov’d his Life,
+which she believ’d he was fonder of than of her Honour. She speaking
+this in a Tone wholly transported with Rage, and at the same time
+holding the Pistol towards him, made him tremble with Fear; and he now
+found, whether she were guilty or not, it was his turn to beg Pardon:
+For you must know, however it came to pass that his Jealousy made him
+come up in that fierce Posture, at other times _Vernole_ was the most
+tame and passive Man in the World, and one who was afraid of his own
+Shadow in the Night: He had a natural Aversion for Danger, and thought
+it below a Man of Wit, or common Sense, to be guilty of that brutal
+thing, called Courage or Fighting; His Philosophy told him, _It was safe
+sleeping in a whole Skin_; and possibly he apprehended as much Danger
+from this _Virago_, as ever he did from his own Sex. He therefore fell
+on his Knees, and besought her to hold her fair Hand, and not to suffer
+that, which was the greatest Mark of his Respect, to be the Cause of her
+Hate or Indignation. The pitiful Faces he made, and the Signs of Mortal
+Fear in him, had almost made her laugh, at least it allay’d her Anger;
+and she bid him rise and play the fool hereafter somewhere else, and not
+in her Presence; yet for once she would deign to give him this
+Satisfaction, that she was got into a Book, which had many moving
+Stories very well writ; and that she found her self so well entertain’d,
+she had forgot how the Night passed. He most humbly thanked her for this
+Satisfaction, and retired, perhaps not so well satisfied as he
+pretended.
+
+After this, he appear’d more submissive and respectful towards
+_Atlante_; and she carry’d herself more reserv’d and haughty towards
+him; which was one Reason, he would not yet discover his Passion.
+
+Thus the Time run on at _Orleans_, while _Rinaldo_ found himself daily
+languishing at _Paris_. He was indeed in the best Academy in the City,
+amongst a Number of brave and noble Youths, where all things that could
+accomplish them, were to be learn’d by those that had any Genius; but
+_Rinaldo_ had other Thoughts, and other Business: his Time was wholly
+past in the most solitary Parts of the Garden, by the melancholy
+Fountains, and in the most gloomy Shades, where he could with most
+Liberty breathe out his Passion and his Griefs. He was past the Tutorage
+of a Boy; and his Masters could not upbraid him, but found he had some
+secret Cause of Grief, which made him not mind those Exercises, which
+were the Delight of the rest: so that nothing being able to divert his
+Melancholy, which daily increased upon him, he fear’d it would bring him
+into a Fever, if he did not give himself the Satisfaction of seeing
+_Atlante_. He had no sooner thought of this, but he was impatient to put
+it in execution; he resolved to go (having very good Horses) without
+acquainting any of his Servants with it. He got a very handsom and light
+Ladder of Ropes made, which he carry’d under his Coat, and away he rid
+for _Orleans_, stay’d at a little Village, till the Darkness of the
+Night might favour his Design: And then walking about _Atlante’s_
+Lodgings, till he saw a Light in her Chamber, and then making that Noise
+on his Sword, as was agreed between them, he was heard by his adorable
+_Atlante_, and suffer’d to mount her Chamber, where he would stay till
+almost break of Day, and then return to the Village, and take Horse, and
+away for _Paris_ again. This, once in a Month, was his Exercise, without
+which he could not live; so that his whole Year was past in riding
+between _Orleans_ and _Paris_, between Excess of Grief, and Excess of
+Joy by turns.
+
+It was now that _Atlante_, arrived to her fifteenth Year, shone out with
+a Lustre of Beauty greater than ever; and in this Year, in the Absence
+of _Rinaldo_, had carry’d herself with that Severity of Life, without
+the youthful Desire of going abroad, or desiring any Diversion, but what
+she found in her own retired Thoughts, that _Vernole_, wholly unable
+longer to conceal his Passion, resolv’d to make a Publication of it,
+first to the Father, and then to the lovely Daughter, of whom he had
+some Hope, because she had carry’d her self very well towards him for
+this Year past; which she would never have done, if she had imagin’d he
+would ever have been her Lover: She had seen no Signs of any such
+Misfortune towards her in these many Years he had conversed with her,
+and she had no Cause to fear him. When one Day her Father taking her
+into the Garden, told her what Honour and Happiness was in store for
+her; and that now the Glory of his fall’n Family would rise again, since
+she had a Lover of an illustrious Blood, ally’d to Monarchs; and one
+whose Fortune was newly encreased to a very considerable Degree,
+answerable to his Birth. She changed Colour at this Discourse, imagining
+but too well who this illustrious Lover was; when _De Pais_ proceeded
+and told her, ‘Indeed his Person was not the most agreeable that ever
+was seen: but he marry’d her to Glory and Fortune, not the Man: And a
+Woman (says he) ought to look no further.’
+
+She needed not any more to inform her who this intended Husband was; and
+therefore, bursting forth into Tears, she throws herself at his Feet,
+imploring him not to use the Authority of a Father, to force her to a
+thing so contrary to her Inclination: assuring him, she could not
+consent to any such thing; and that she would rather die than yield. She
+urged many Arguments for this her Disobedience; but none would pass for
+current with the old Gentleman, whose Pride had flatter’d him with Hopes
+of so considerable a Son-in-law: He was very much surpriz’d at
+_Atlante’s_ refusing what he believ’d she would receive with Joy; and
+finding that no Arguments on his Side could draw hers to an obedient
+Consent, he grew to such a Rage, as very rarely possest him: vowing, if
+she did not conform her Will to his, he would abandon her to all the
+Cruelty of Contempt and Poverty: so that at last she was forced to
+return him this Answer, ‘That she would strive all she could with her
+Heart; but she verily believed she should never bring it to consent to a
+Marriage with Monsieur the Count.’ The Father continued threatning her,
+and gave her some Days to consider of it: So leaving her in Tears, he
+returned to his Chamber, to consider what Answer he should give Count
+_Vernole_, who he knew would be impatient to learn what Success he had,
+and what himself was to hope. _De Pais_, after some Consideration,
+resolved to tell him, she receiv’d the Offer very well, but that he must
+expect a little Maiden-Nicety in the Case: and accordingly did tell him
+so; and he was not at all doubtful of his good Fortune.
+
+But _Atlante_, who resolved to die a thousand Deaths rather than break
+her solemn Vows to _Rinaldo_, or to marry the Count, cast about how she
+should avoid it with the least Hazard of her Father’s Rage. She found
+_Rinaldo_ the better and more advantageous Match of the two, could they
+but get his Father’s Consent: He was beautiful and young; his Title was
+equal to that of _Vernole_, when his Father should die; and his Estate
+exceeded his: yet she dares not make a Discovery, for fear she should
+injure her Lover; who at this Time, though she knew it not, lay sick of
+a Fever, while she was wondering that he came not as he used to do.
+However she resolves to send him a Letter, and acquaint him with the
+Misfortune; which she did in these Terms:
+
+  _ATLANTE_ to _RINALDO_.
+
+  _My Father’s Authority would force me to violate my sacred Vows to
+  you, and give them to the Count +Vernole+, whom I mortally hate, yet
+  could wish him the greatest Monarch in the World, that I might shew
+  you I could even then despise him for your Sake. My Father is
+  already too much enraged by my Denial, to hear Reason from me, if I
+  should confess to him my Vows to you: So that I see nothing but a
+  Prospect of Death before me; for assure your self, my +Rinaldo+,
+  I will die rather than consent to marry any other: Therefore come my
+  +Rinaldo+, and come quickly, to see my Funerals, instead of those
+  Nuptials they vainly expect from_
+
+  Your Faithful
+  _ATLANTE_.
+
+This Letter _Rinaldo_ receiv’d; and there needed no more to make him fly
+to _Orleans_: This raised him soon from his Bed of Sickness, and getting
+immediately to horse, he arrived at his Father’s House; who did not so
+much admire to see him, because he heard he was sick of a Fever, and
+gave him leave to return, if he pleas’d: He went directly to his
+Father’s House, because he knew somewhat of the Business, he was
+resolv’d to make his Passion known, as soon as he had seen _Atlante_,
+from whom he was to take all his Measures: He therefore fail’d not, when
+all were in Bed, to rise and go from his Chamber into the Street; where
+finding a Light in _Atlante’s_ Chamber, for she every Night expected
+him, he made the usual Sign, and she went into the Balcony; and he
+having no Conveniency of mounting up into it, they discoursed, and said
+all they had to say. From thence she tells him of the Count’s Passion,
+of her Father’s Resolution, and that her own was rather to die his, than
+live any Body’s else: And at last, as their Refuge, they resolv’d to
+discover the whole Matter; she to her Father, and he to his, to see what
+Accommodation they could make; if not, to die together. They parted at
+this Resolve, for she would permit him no longer to stay in the Street
+after such a Sickness; so he went home to bed, but not to sleep.
+
+The next Day, at Dinner, Monsieur _Bellyaurd_ believing his Son
+absolutely cur’d, by Absence, of his Passion; and speaking of all the
+News in the Town, among the rest, told him he was come in good time to
+dance at the Wedding of Count _Vernole_ with _Atlante_, the Match being
+agreed on: ‘No, Sir (reply’d _Rinaldo_) I shall never dance at the
+Marriage of Count _Vernole_ with _Atlante_; and you will see in Monsieur
+_De Pais’s_ House a Funeral sooner than a Wedding.’ And thereupon he
+told his Father all his Passion for that lovely Maid; and assur’d him,
+if he would not see him laid in his Grave, he must consent to this
+Match. _Bellyaurd_ rose in a Fury, and told him, ‘He had rather see him
+in his Grave, than in the Arms of _Atlante_: Not (continued he) so much
+for any Dislike I have to the young Lady, or the Smallness of her
+Fortune; but because I have so long warn’d you from such a Passion, and
+have with such Care endeavour’d by your Absence to prevent it.’ He
+travers’d the Room very fast, still protesting against this Alliance:
+and was deaf to all _Rinaldo_ could say. On the other side the Day being
+come, wherein _Atlante_ was to give her final Answer to her Father
+concerning her Marriage with Count _Vernole_; she assum’d all the
+Courage and Resolution she could, to withstand the Storm that threatned
+a Denial. And her Father came to her, and demanding her Answer, she told
+him, ‘She could not be the Wife of _Vernole_, since she was Wife to
+_Rinaldo_, only son to _Bellyaurd_.’ If her Father storm’d before, he
+grew like a Man distracted at her Confession; and _Vernole_ hearing them
+loud, ran to the Chamber to learn the Cause; where just as he enter’d he
+found _De Pais’s_ Sword drawn, and ready to kill his Daughter, who lay
+all in Tears at his Feet. He with-held his Hand; and asking the Cause of
+his Rage, he was told all that _Atlante_ had confess’d; which put
+_Vernole_ quite beside all his Gravity, and made him discover the
+Infirmity of Anger, which he used to say ought to be dissembled by all
+wise Men: So that _De Pais_ forgot his own to appease his, but ’twas in
+vain, for he went out of the House, vowing Revenge to _Rinaldo_: And to
+that end, being not very well assur’d of his own Courage, as I said
+before, and being of the Opinion, that no Man ought to expose his Life
+to him who has injur’d him; he hired _Swiss_ and _Spanish_ Soldiers to
+attend him in the nature of Footmen; and watch’d several Nights about
+_Bellyaurd’s_ Door, and that of _De Pais’s_, believing he should some
+time or other see him under the Window of _Atlante_, or perhaps mounting
+into it: for now he no longer doubted, but this happy Lover was he, whom
+he fancy’d he heard go from the Balcony that Night he came up with his
+Pistol; and being more a _Spaniard_ than a _Frenchman_ in his Nature, he
+resolv’d to take him any way unguarded or unarm’d, if he came in his
+Way.
+
+_Atlante_, who heard his Threatnings when he went from her in a Rage,
+fear’d his Cowardice might put him on some base Action, to deprive
+_Rinaldo_ of his Life; and therefore thought it not safe to suffer him
+to come to her by Night, as he had before done; but sent him word in a
+Note, that he should forbear her Window, for _Vernole_ had sworn his
+Death. This Note came, unseen by his Father, to his Hands: but this
+could not hinder him from coming to her Window, which he did as soon as
+it was dark: he came thither, only attended with his Valet, and two
+Footmen; for now he car’d not who knew the Secret. He had no sooner made
+the Sign, but he found himself incompass’d with _Vernole’s_ Bravoes; and
+himself standing at a distance cry’d out, ‘That is he’: With that they
+all drew on both sides, and _Rinaldo_ receiv’d a Wound in his Arm.
+_Atlante_ heard this, and ran crying out, ‘That _Rinaldo_, prest by
+Numbers, would be kill’d.’ _De Pais_, who was reading in his Closet,
+took his Sword, and ran out; and, contrary to all Expectation, seeing
+_Rinaldo_ fighting with his Back to the Door, pull’d him into the House,
+and fought himself with the Bravoes: who being very much wounded by
+_Rinaldo_, gave ground, and sheer’d off; and _De Pais_, putting up old
+_Bilbo_ into the Scabbard, went into his House, where he found _Rinaldo_
+almost fainting with loss of Blood, and _Atlante_, with her Maids
+binding up his Wound; to whom _De Pais_ said, ‘This charity, _Atlante_,
+very well becomes you, and is what I can allow you; and I could wish you
+had no other Motive for this Action.’ _Rinaldo_ by degrees recover’d of
+his Fainting, and as well as his Weakness would permit him, he got up
+and made a low Reverence to _De Pais_, telling him, ‘He had now a double
+Obligation to pay him all the Respect in the World; first, for his being
+the Father of _Atlante_; and secondly, for being the Preserver of his
+Life: two Tyes that should eternally oblige him to love and honour him,
+as his own Parent.’ _De Pais_ reply’d, ‘He had done nothing but what
+common Humanity compell’d him to do: But if he would make good that
+Respect he profess’d towards him, it must be in quitting all Hopes of
+_Atlante_, whom he had destin’d to another, or an eternal Inclosure in a
+Monastery: He had another Daughter, whom if he would think worthy of his
+Regard, he should take his Alliance as a very great Honour; but his Word
+and Reputation, nay his Vows were past, to give _Atlante_ to Count
+_Vernole_.’ _Rinaldo_, who before he spoke took measure from _Atlante’s_
+Eyes, which told him her Heart was his, return’d this Answer to _De
+Pais_, ‘That he was infinitely glad to find by the Generosity of his
+Offer, that he had no Aversion against his being his Son-in-law; and
+that, next to _Atlante_, the greatest Happiness he could wish would be
+his receiving _Charlot_ from his Hand; but that he could not think of
+quitting _Atlante_, how necessary soever it would be, for Glory, and
+his--(the further) Repose.’ _De Pais_ would not let him at this time
+argue the matter further, seeing he was ill, and had need of looking
+after; he therefore begg’d he would for his Health’s sake retire to his
+own House, whither he himself conducted him, and left him to the Care of
+his Men, who were escap’d the Fray; and returning to his own Chamber, he
+found _Atlante_ retir’d, and so he went to bed full of Thoughts. This
+Night had increas’d his Esteem for _Rinaldo_, and lessen’d it for Count
+_Vernole_; but his Word and Honour being past, he could not break it,
+neither with Safety nor Honour: for he knew the haughty resenting Nature
+of the Count, and he fear’d some Danger might arrive to the brave
+_Rinaldo_, which troubled him very much. At last he resolv’d, that
+neither might take any thing ill at his Hands, to lose _Atlante_, and
+send her to the Monastery where her Sister was, and compel her to be a
+Nun. This he thought would prevent Mischiefs on both sides; and
+accordingly, the next Day, (having in the Morning sent Word to the Lady
+Abbess what he would have done) he carries _Atlante_, under pretence of
+visiting her Sister, (which they often did) to the Monastery, where she
+was no sooner come, but she was led into the Inclosure: Her Father had
+rather sacrifice her, than she should be the Cause of the Murder of two
+such noble Men as _Vernole_ and _Rinaldo_.
+
+The Noise of _Atlante’s_ being inclos’d, was soon spread all over the
+busy Town, and _Rinaldo_ was not the last to whom the News arriv’d: He
+was for a few Days confin’d to his Chamber; where, when alone, he rav’d
+like a Man distracted; But his Wounds had so incens’d his Father against
+_Atlante_, that he swore he would see his Son die of them, rather than
+suffer him to marry _Atlante_; and was extremely overjoy’d to find she
+was condemn’d, for ever, to the Monastery. So that the Son thought it
+the wisest Course, and most for the advantage of his Love, to say
+nothing to contradict his Father; but being almost assur’d _Atlante_
+would never consent to be shut up in a Cloyster, and abandon him, he
+flatter’d himself with hope, that he should steal her from thence, and
+marry her in spite of all Opposition. This he was impatient to put in
+practice: He believ’d, if he were not permitted to see _Atlante_, he had
+still a kind Advocate in _Charlot_, who was now arriv’d to her
+Thirteenth Year, and infinitely advanc’d in Wit and Beauty. _Rinaldo_
+therefore often goes to the Monastery, surrounding it, to see what
+Possibility there was of accomplishing his Design; if he could get her
+Consent, he finds it not impossible, and goes to visit _Charlot_; who
+had command not to see him, or speak to him. This was a Cruelty he
+look’d not for, and which gave him an unspeakable Trouble, and without
+her Aid it was wholly impossible to give _Atlante_ any account of his
+Design. In this Perplexity he remain’d many Days, in which he languish’d
+almost to Death; he was distracted with Thought, and continually
+hovering about the Nunnery-Walls, in hope, at some time or other, to see
+or hear from that lovely Maid, who alone could make his Happiness. In
+these Traverses he often met _Vernole_, who had Liberty to see her when
+he pleas’d: If it happen’d that they chanc’d to meet in the Daytime,
+tho’ _Vernole_ was attended with an Equipage of Ruffians, and _Rinaldo_
+but only with a couple of Footmen, he could perceive _Vernole_ shun him,
+grow pale, and almost tremble with Fear sometimes, and get to the other
+Side of the Street; and if he did not, _Rinaldo_ having a mortal Hate to
+him, would often bear up so close to him, that he would jostle him
+against the Wall, which _Vernole_ would patiently put up, and pass on;
+so that he could never be provok’d to fight by Day-light, how solitary
+soever the Place was where they met: but if they chanc’d to meet at
+Night, they were certain of a Skirmish, in which he would have no part
+himself; so that _Rinaldo_ was often like to be assassinated, but still
+came off with some slight Wound. This continu’d so long, and made so
+great a Noise in the Town, that the two old Gentlemen were mightily
+alarm’d by it; and Count _Bellyaurd_ came to _De Pais_, one Day, to
+discourse with him of this Affair; and _Bellyaurd_, for the Preservation
+of his Son, was almost consenting, since there was no Remedy, that he
+should marry _Atlante_. _De Pais_ confess’d the Honour he proffer’d him,
+and how troubled he was, that his Word was already past to his Friend,
+the Count _Vernole_, whom he said she should marry, or remain for ever a
+Nun; but if _Rinaldo_ could displace his Love from _Atlante_, and place
+it on _Charlot_, he should gladly consent to the Match. _Bellyaurd_, who
+would now do anything for the Repose of his Son, tho’ he believ’d this
+Exchange would not pass, yet resolv’d to propose it, since by marrying
+him he took him out of the Danger of _Vernole’s_ Assassinates, who would
+never leave him till they had dispatch’d him, should he marry _Atlante_.
+
+While _Rinaldo_ was contriving a thousand ways to come to speak to, or
+send Billets to _Atlante_, none of which could succeed without the Aid
+of _Charlot_, his Father came and propos’d this Agreement between _De
+Pais_ and himself, to his Son. At first _Rinaldo_ receiv’d it with a
+chang’d Countenance, and a breaking Heart; but swiftly turning from
+Thought to Thought, he conceiv’d this the only way to come at _Charlot_,
+and so consequently at _Atlante_: he therefore, after some dissembled
+Regret, consents, with a sad put-on Look: And _Charlot_ had Notice given
+her to see and entertain _Rinaldo_. As yet they had not told her the
+Reason; which her Father would tell her, when he came to visit her, he
+said. _Rinaldo_ over-joy’d at this Contrivance, and his own
+Dissimulation, goes to the Monastery, and visits _Charlot_; where he
+ought to have said something of this Proposition: but wholly bent upon
+other Thoughts, he sollicits her to convey some Letters, and Presents to
+_Atlante_; which she readily did, to the unspeakable Joy of the poor
+Distrest. Sometimes he would talk to _Charlot_ of her own Affairs;
+asking her, if she resolv’d to become a Nun? To which she would sigh,
+and say, If she must, it would be extremely against her Inclinations;
+and, if it pleas’d her Father, she had rather begin the World with any
+tolerable Match.
+
+Things past thus for some Days, in which our Lovers were happy, and
+_Vernole_ assur’d he should have _Atlante_. But at last _De Pais_ came
+to visit _Charlot_, who ask’d her, if she had seen _Rinaldo_? She
+answer’d, ‘She had.’ ‘And how does he entertain you? (reply’d _De Pais_)
+Have you receiv’d him as a Husband? and has he behav’d himself like
+one?’ At this a sudden Joy seiz’d the Heart of _Charlot_; and both to
+confess what she had done for him to her Sister, she hung down her
+blushing Face to study for an Answer. _De Pais_ continued, and told her
+the Agreement between _Bellyaurd_ and him, for the saving of Bloodshed.
+
+She, who blest the Cause, whatever it was, having always a great
+Friendship and Tenderness for _Rinaldo_, gave her Father a thousand
+Thanks for his Care; and assur’d him, since she was commanded by him,
+she would receive him as her Husband.
+
+And the next Day, when _Rinaldo_ came to visit her, as he us’d to do,
+and bringing a Letter with him, wherein he propos’d the flight of
+_Atlante_; he found a Coldness in _Charlot_, as soon as he told her his
+Design, and desir’d her to carry the Letter. He ask’d the Reason of this
+Change: She tells him she was inform’d of the Agreement between their
+two Fathers, and that she look’d upon herself as his Wife, and would act
+no more as a Confident; that she had ever a violent Inclination of
+Friendship for him, which she would soon improve into something more
+soft.
+
+He could not deny the Agreement, nor his Promise; but it was in vain to
+tell her, he did it only to get a Correspondence with _Atlante_: She is
+obstinate, and he as pressing, with all the Tenderness of Persuasion: He
+vows he can never be any but _Atlante’s_, and she may see him die, but
+never break his Vows. She urges her Claim in vain, so that at last she
+was overcome, and promised she would carry the Letter; which was to have
+her make her Escape that Night. He waits at the Gate for her Answer, and
+_Charlot_ returns with one that pleased him very well; which was, that
+Night her Sister would make her Escape, and that he must stand in such a
+Place of the Nunnery-Wall, and she would come out to him.
+
+After this she upbraids him with his false Promise to her, and of her
+Goodness to serve him after such a Disappointment. He receives her
+Reproaches with a thousand Sighs, and bemoans her Misfortune in not
+being capable of more than Friendship for her; and vows, that next
+_Atlante_, he esteems her of all Womankind. She seems to be obliged by
+this, and assured him, she would hasten the Flight of _Atlante_; and
+taking leave, he went home to order a Coach, and some Servants to assist
+him.
+
+In the mean time Count _Vernole_ came to visit _Atlante_; but she
+refused to be seen by him: And all he could do there that Afternoon, was
+entertaining _Charlot_ at the Grate; to whom he spoke a great many fine
+Things, both of her improved Beauty and Wit; and how happy _Rinaldo_
+would be in so fair a Bride. She received this with all the Civility
+that was due to his Quality; and their Discourse being at an End, he
+took his Leave, being towards the Evening.
+
+_Rinaldo_, wholly impatient, came betimes to the Corner of the dead
+Wall, where he was appointed to stand, having ordered his Footmen and
+Coach to come to him as soon it was dark. While he was there walking up
+and down, _Vernole_ came by the End of the Wall to go home; and looking
+about, he saw, at the other End, _Rinaldo_ walking, whose Back was
+towards him, but he knew him well; and tho’ he feared and dreaded his
+Business there, he durst not encounter him, they being both attended but
+by one Footman a-piece. But _Vernole’s_ Jealousy and Indignation were so
+high, that he resolved to fetch his Bravoes to his Aid, and come and
+assault him: For he knew he waited there for some Message from
+_Atlante_.
+
+In the mean Time it grew dark, and _Rinaldo_’s Coach came with another
+Footman; which were hardly arrived, when _Vernole_, with his Assistants,
+came to the Corner of the Wall, and skreening themselves a little behind
+it, near to the Place where _Rinaldo_ stood, who waited now close to a
+little Door, out of which the Gardeners used to throw the Weeds and
+Dirt, _Vernole_ could perceive anon the Door to open, and a Woman come
+out of it, calling _Rinaldo_ by his Name, who stept up to her, and
+caught her in his Arms with Signs of infinite Joy. _Vernole_ being now
+all Rage, cry’d to his Assassinates, ‘Fall on, and kill the Ravisher’:
+And immediately they all fell on. _Rinaldo_, who had only his two
+Footmen on his Side, was forc’d to let go the Lady; who would have run
+into the Garden again, but the Door fell to and lock’d: so that while
+_Rinaldo_ was fighting, and beaten back by the Bravoes, one of which he
+laid dead at his Feet, _Vernole_ came to the frighted Lady, and taking
+her by the Hand, cry’d, ‘Come, my fair Fugitive, you must go along with
+me.’ She wholly scar’d out of her Senses, was willing to go any where
+out of the Terror she heard so near her, and without Reply, gave her
+self into his Hand, who carried her directly to her Father’s House;
+where she was no sooner come, but he told her Father all that had past,
+and how she was running away with _Rinaldo_, but that his good Fortune
+brought him just in the lucky Minute. Her Father turning to reproach
+her, found by the Light of a Candle that this was _Charlot_, and not
+_Atlante_, whom _Vernole_ had brought Home: At which _Vernole_ was
+extremely astonish’d. Her Father demanded of her why she was running
+away with a Man, who was design’d her by Consent? ‘Yes, (said _Charlot_)
+you had his Consent, Sir, and that of his Father; but I was far from
+getting it: I found he resolv’d to die rather than quit _Atlante_; and
+promising him my Assistance in his Amour, since he could never be mine,
+he got me to carry a Letter to _Atlante_; which was, to desire her to
+fly away with him. Instead of carrying her this Letter, I told her, he
+was design’d for me, and had cancell’d all his Vows to her: She swoon’d
+at this News; and being recover’d a little, I left her in the Hands of
+the Nuns, to persuade her to live; which she resolves not to do without
+_Rinaldo_. Tho’ they press’d me, yet I resolv’d to pursue my Design,
+which was to tell _Rinaldo_ she would obey his kind Summons. He waited
+for her; but I put my self into his Hands in lieu of _Atlante_; and had
+not the Count receiv’d me, we had been marry’d by this time, by some
+false Light that could not have discover’d me: But I am satisfied, if I
+had, he would never have liv’d with me longer than the Cheat had been
+undiscover’d; for I find them both resolved to die, rather than change.
+And for my part, Sir, I was not so much in Love with _Rinaldo_, as I was
+out of love with the Nunnery; and took any Opportunity to quit a Life
+absolutely contrary to my Humour.’ She spoke this with a Gaiety so
+brisk, and an Air so agreeable, that _Vernole_ found it touch’d his
+Heart; and the rather because he found _Atlante_ would never be his; or
+if she were, he should be still in Danger from the Resentment of
+_Rinaldo_: he therefore bowing to _Charlot_, and taking her by the Hand,
+cry’d, ‘Madam, since Fortune has dispos’d you thus luckily for me, in my
+Possession, I humbly implore you would consent she should make me
+entirely happy, and give me the Prize for which I fought, and have
+conquer’d with my Sword.’ ‘My Lord, (reply’d _Charlot_, with a modest
+Air) I am superstitious enough to believe, since Fortune, so contrary to
+all our Designs, has given me into your Hands, that she from the
+beginning destin’d me to the Honour, which, with my Father’s Consent,
+I shall receive as becomes me.’ _De Pais_ transported with Joy, to find
+all Things would be so well brought about, it being all one to him,
+whether _Charlot_ or _Atlante_ gave him Count _Vernole_ for his
+Son-in-law, readily consented; and immediately a Priest was sent for,
+and they were that Night marry’d. And it being now not above seven
+o’Clock, many of their Friends were invited, the Musick sent for, and as
+good a Supper as so short a Time would provide, was made ready.
+
+All this was perform’d in as short a time as _Rinaldo_ was fighting; and
+having kill’d one, and wounded the rest, they all fled before his
+conquering Sword, which was never drawn with so good a Will. When he
+came where his Coach stood, just against the Back-Garden-Door, he looked
+for his Mistress: But the Coachman told him, he was no sooner engaged,
+but a Man came, and with a thousand Reproaches on her Levity, bore her
+off.
+
+This made our young Lover rave; and he is satisfied she is in the Hands
+of his Rival, and that he had been fighting, and shedding his Blood,
+only to secure her Flight with him. He lost all Patience, and it was
+with much ado his Servants persuaded him to return; telling him in their
+Opinion, she was more likely to get out of the Hands of his Rival, and
+come to him, than when she was in the Monastery.
+
+He suffers himself to go into his Coach and be carry’d home; but he was
+no sooner alighted, than he heard Musick and Noise at _De Pais’s_ House.
+He saw Coaches surround his Door, and Pages and Footmen, with Flambeaux.
+The Sight and Noise of Joy made him ready to sink at the Door; and
+sending his Footmen to learn the Cause of this Triumph, the Pages that
+waited told him, That Count _Vernole_ was this Night married to Monsieur
+_De Pais’s_ Daughter. He needed no more to deprive him of all Sense; and
+staggering against his Coach, he was caught by his Footmen and carried
+into his House, and to his Chamber, where they put him to Bed, all
+sensless as he was, and had much ado to recover him to Life. He ask’d
+for his Father, with a faint Voice, for he desir’d to see him before he
+died. It was told him he was gone to Count _Vernole’s_ Wedding, where
+there was a perfect Peace agreed on between them, and all their
+Animosities laid aside. At this News _Rinaldo_ fainted again; and his
+Servants call’d his Father home, and told him in what Condition they had
+brought home their Master, recounting to him all that was past. He
+hasten’d to _Rinaldo_, whom he found just recover’d of his Swooning;
+who, putting his Hand out to his Father, all cold and trembling, cry’d,
+‘Well, Sir, now you are satisfied, since you have seen _Atlante_ married
+to Count _Vernole_, I hope now you will give your unfortunate Son leave
+to die; as you wish’d he should, rather than give him to the Arms of
+_Atlante_.’ Here his Speech fail’d, and he fell again into a Fit of
+Swooning; His Father ready to die with fear of his Son’s Death, kneel’d
+down by his Bed-side; and after having recover’d a little, he said, ‘My
+dear Son, I have been indeed at the Wedding of Count _Vernole_, but ’tis
+not _Atlante_ to whom he is married, but _Charlot_; who was the Person
+you were bearing from the Monastery, instead of _Atlante_, who is still
+reserv’d for you, and she is dying till she hear you are reserv’d for
+her; Therefore, as you regard her Life, make much of your own, and make
+your self fit to receive her; for her Father and I have agreed the
+Marriage already.’ And without giving him leave to think, he call’d to
+one of his Gentlemen, and sent him to the Monastery, with this News to
+_Atlante_. _Rinaldo_ bowed himself as low as he could in his Bed, and
+kiss’d the Hand of his Father, with Tears of Joy: But his Weakness
+continued all the next Day; and they were fain to bring _Atlante_ to
+him, to confirm his Happiness.
+
+It must only be guessed by Lovers, the perfect Joy these two receiv’d in
+the sight of each other. _Bellyaurd_ received her as his Daughter; and
+the next Day made her so, with very great Solemnity, at which were
+_Vernole_ and _Charlot_: Between _Rinaldo_ and him was concluded a
+perfect Peace, and all thought themselves happy in this double Union.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Lucky Mistake.
+
+
+p. 351 This Dedication only appears in the first edition (12mo, 1689),
+‘for R. Bentley’. George Granville or Grenville,[1] Lord Lansdowne, the
+celebrated wit, dramatist and poet, was born in 1667. Having zealously
+offered in 1688 to defend James II, during the subsequent reign he
+perforce ‘lived in literary retirement’. He then wrote _The She
+Gallants_ (1696, and 4to, 1696), an excellent comedy full of jest and
+spirit. Offending, however, some ladies ‘who set up for chastity’ it
+made its exit. Granville afterwards revived it as _Once a Lover and
+Always a Lover_. _Heroick Love_, a tragedy (1698), had great success.
+_The Jew of Venice_ (1701), is a piteously weak adaption of _The
+Merchant of Venice_. A short masque, _Peleus and Thetis_ accompanies the
+play. _The British Enchanters_, an opera (1706), is a pleasing piece,
+and was very well received. At the accession of Queen Anne, Granville
+entered the political arena and attained considerable offices of state.
+Suspected of being an active Jacobite he was, under George I, imprisoned
+from 25 September, 1715, till 8 February, 1717. In 1722 he went abroad,
+and lived in Paris for ten years. In 1732 he returned and published a
+finely printed edition of his complete _Works_ (2 Vols., 4to, 1732; and
+again, 3 Vols., 1736, 12mo). He died 30 January, 1735, and is buried in
+St. Clement Danes.
+
+p. 398 _double Union_. In a collection of Novels with running title:
+_The Deceived Lovers_ (1696), we find No. V _The Curtezan Deceived_, ‘An
+Addition to The Lucky Mistake, Written by Mrs. A. Behn.’ This
+introduction of Mrs. Behn’s name was a mere bookseller’s trick to catch
+the unwary reader. _The Curtezan Deceived_ is of no value. It has
+nothing to do with Aphra’s work and is as commonplace a little novel as
+an hundred others of its day.
+
+    [Footnote 1: The spelling ‘Greenvil’ ‘Greenviel’ is incorrect.]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE; OR, THE BLIND LADY A BEAUTY.
+
+
+
+
+  TO RICHARD NORTON, OF SOUTHWICK IN HANTSHIRE, ESQUIRE.
+
+  Honour’d Sir,
+
+Eminent Wit, Sir, no more than Eminent Beauty, can escape the Trouble
+and Presumption of Addresses; and that which can strike every body with
+Wonder, can never avoid the Praise which naturally flows from that
+Wonder: And Heaven is forc’d to hear the Addresses as well as praises of
+the Poor as Rich, of the Ignorant as Learned, and takes, nay rewards,
+the officious tho’ perhaps impertinent Zeal of its least qualify’d
+Devotees. Wherefore, Sir, tho’ your Merits meet with the Applause of the
+Learned and Witty, yet your Generosity will judge favourably of the
+untaught Zeal of an humbler Admirer, since what I do your eminent
+Vertues compel. The Beautiful will permit the most despicable of their
+Admirers to love them, tho’ they never intend to make him happy, as
+unworthy their Love, but they will not be angry at the fatal Effect of
+their own Eyes.
+
+But what I want in my self, Sir, to merit your Regard, I hope my
+Authoress will in some measure supply, so far at least to lessen my
+Presumption in prefixing your Name to a Posthumous Piece of hers, whom
+all the Men of Wit, that were her Contemporaries, look’d on as the
+Wonder of her Sex; and in none of her Performances has she shew’d so
+great a Mastery as in her Novels, where Nature always prevails; and if
+they are not true, they are so like it, that they do the business every
+jot as well.
+
+This I hope, Sir, will induce you to pardon my Presumption in dedicating
+this Novel to you, and declaring my self, Sir,
+
+  Your most obedient
+    and most humble Servant,
+      S. Briscoe.
+
+
+
+
+THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE: or, The Blind Lady a Beauty.
+
+
+_Frankwit_ and _Wildvill_, were two young Gentlemen of very considerable
+Fortunes, both born in _Staffordshire_, and, during their Minority, both
+educated together, by which Opportunity they contracted a very
+inviolable Friendship, a Friendship which grew up with them; and though
+it was remarkably known to every Body else, they knew it not themselves;
+they never made Profession of it in Words, but Actions; so true a Warmth
+their Fires could boast, as needed not the Effusion of their Breath to
+make it live. _Wildvill_ was of the richest Family, but _Frankwit_ of
+the noblest; _Wildvill_ was admired for outward Qualifications, as
+Strength, and manly Proportions, _Frankwit_ for a much softer Beauty,
+for his inward Endowments, Pleasing in his Conversation, of a free, and
+moving Air, humble in his Behaviour, and if he had any Pride, it was but
+just enough to shew that he did not affect Humility; his Mind bowed with
+a Motion as unconstrained as his Body, nor did he force this Vertue in
+the least, but he allowed it only. So aimable he was, that every Virgin
+that had Eyes, knew too she had a Heart, and knew as surely she should
+lose it. His _Cupid_ could not be reputed blind, he never shot for him,
+but he was sure to wound. As every other Nymph admired him, so he was
+dear to all the Tuneful Sisters; the Muses were fired with him as much
+as their own radiant God _Apollo_; their loved Springs and Fountains
+were not so grateful to their Eyes as he, him they esteemed their
+_Helicon_ and _Parnassus_ too; in short, when ever he pleased, he could
+enjoy them all. Thus he enamour’d the whole Female Sex, but amongst all
+the sighing Captives of his Eyes, _Belvira_ only boasted Charms to move
+him; her Parents lived near his, and even from their Childhood they felt
+mutual Love, as if their Eyes, at their first meeting, had struck out
+such Glances, as had kindled into amorous Flame. And now _Belvira_ in
+her fourteenth Year, (when the fresh Spring of young Virginity began to
+cast more lively Bloomings in her Cheeks, and softer Longings in her
+Eyes) by her indulgent Father’s Care was sent to _London_ to a Friend,
+her Mother being lately dead: When, as if Fortune ordered it so,
+_Frankwit’s_ Father took a Journey to the other World, to let his Son
+the better enjoy the Pleasures and Delights of this: The young Lover now
+with all imaginable haste interred his Father, nor did he shed so many
+Tears for his Loss, as might in the least quench the Fire which he
+received from his _Belvira’s_ Eyes, but (Master of seventeen Hundred
+Pounds a Year, which his Father left him) with all the Wings of Love
+flies to _London_, and sollicits _Belvira_ with such Fervency, that it
+might be thought he meant Death’s Torch should kindle _Hymen’s_; and now
+as soon as he arrives at his Journey’s end, he goes to pay a Visit to
+the fair Mistress of his Soul, and assures her, That tho’ he was absent
+from her, yet she was still with him; and that all the Road he
+travell’d, her beauteous Image danced before him, and like the ravished
+Prophet, he saw his Deity in every Bush; in short, he paid her constant
+Visits, the Sun ne’er rose or set, but still he saw it in her Company,
+and every Minute of the Day he counted by his Sighs. So incessantly he
+importuned her that she could no longer hold out, and was pleased in the
+surrender of her Heart, since it was he was Conqueror; and therefore
+felt a Triumph in her yielding. Their Flames now joyned, grew more and
+more, glowed in their Cheeks, and lightened in their Glances: Eager they
+looked, as if there were Pulses beating in their Eyes; and all
+endearing, at last she vowed, that _Frankwit_ living she would ne’er be
+any other Man’s. Thus they past on some time, while every Day rowl’d
+over fair; Heaven showed an Aspect all serene, and the Sun seemed to
+smile at what was done. He still caressed his Charmer, with an Innocence
+becoming his Sincerity; he lived upon her tender Breath, and basked in
+the bright Lustre of her Eyes, with Pride, and secret Joy.
+
+He saw his Rivals languish for that Bliss, those Charms, those Raptures
+and extatick Transports, which he engrossed alone. But now some eighteen
+Months (some Ages in a Lover’s Kalendar) winged with Delights, and fair
+_Belvira_ now grown fit for riper Joys, knows hardly how she can deny
+her pressing Lover, and herself, to crown their Vows, and joyn their
+Hands as well as Hearts. All this while the young Gallant wash’d himself
+clean of that shining Dirt, his Gold; he fancied little of Heaven dwelt
+in his yellow Angels, but let them fly away, as it were on their own
+golden Wings; he only valued the smiling Babies in _Belvira’s_ Eyes. His
+Generosity was boundless, as his Love, for no Man ever truly loved, that
+was not generous. He thought his Estate, like his Passion, was a sort of
+a _Pontick_ Ocean, it could never know an Ebb; But now he found it could
+be fathom’d, and that the Tide was turning, therefore he sollicits with
+more impatience the consummation of their Joys, that both might go like
+Martyrs from their Flames immediately to Heaven; and now at last it was
+agreed between them, that they should both be one, but not without some
+Reluctancy on the Female side; for ’tis the Humour of our Sex, to deny
+most eagerly those Grants to Lovers, for which most tenderly we sigh, so
+contradictory are we to our selves, as if the Deity had made us with a
+seeming Reluctancy to his own Designs; placing as much Discords in our
+Minds, as there is Harmony in our Faces. We are a sort of aiery Clouds,
+whose Lightning flash out one way, and the Thunder another. Our Words
+and Thoughts can ne’er agree. So this young charming Lady thought her
+Desires could live in their own longings, like Misers wealth-devouring
+Eyes; and e’er she consented to her Lover, prepared him first with
+speaking Looks, and then with a fore-running Sigh, applyed to the dear
+Charmer thus: ‘_Frankwit_, I am afraid to venture the Matrimonial
+Bondage, it may make you think your self too much confined, in being
+only free to one.’ ‘Ah! my dear _Belvira_,’ he replied, ‘That one, like
+_Manna_, has the Taste of all, why should I be displeased to be confined
+to Paradice, when it was the Curse of our Forefathers to be set at
+large, tho’ they had the whole World to roam in: You have, my love,
+ubiquitary Charms, and you are all in all, in every Part.’ ‘Ay, but,’
+reply’d _Belvira_, ‘we are all like Perfumes, and too continual Smelling
+makes us seem to have lost our Sweets, I’ll be judged by my Cousin
+_Celesia_ here, if it be not better to live still in mutual Love,
+without the last Enjoyment.’ (I had forgot to tell my Reader that
+_Celesia_ was an Heiress, the only Child of a rich _Turkey_ Merchant,
+who, when he dyed, left her Fifty thousand Pound in Money, and some
+Estate in Land; but, poor Creature, she was Blind to all these Riches,
+having been born without the use of Sight, though in all other Respects
+charming to a wonder.) ‘Indeed,’ says _Celesia_, (for she saw clearly in
+her Mind) ‘I admire you should ask my Judgment in such a Case, where I
+have never had the least Experience; but I believe it is but a sickly
+Soul which cannot nourish its Offspring of Desires without preying upon
+the Body.’ ‘Believe me,’ reply’d _Frankwit_, ‘I bewail your want of
+Sight, and I could almost wish you my own Eyes for a Moment, to view
+your charming Cousin, where you would see such Beauties as are too
+dazling to be long beheld; and if too daringly you gazed, you would feel
+the Misfortune of the loss of Sight, much greater than the want of it:
+And you would acknowledge, that in too presumptuously seeing, you would
+be blinder then, than now unhappily you are.’
+
+‘Ah! I must confess,’ reply’d _Belvira_, ‘my poor, dear Cousin is Blind,
+for I fancy she bears too great an Esteem for _Frankwit_, and only longs
+for Sight to look on him.’ ‘Indeed,’ reply’d _Celesia_, ‘I would be glad
+to see _Frankwit_, for I fancy he’s as dazling, as he but now describ’d
+his Mistress, and if I fancy I see him, sure I do see him, for Sight is
+Fancy, is it not? or do you feel my Cousin with your Eyes?’ ‘This is
+indeed, a charming Blindness,’ reply’d _Frankwit_, ‘and the fancy of
+your Sight excels the certainty of ours. Strange! that there should be
+such Glances even in blindness? You, fair Maid, require not Eyes to
+conquer, if your Night has such Stars, what Sunshine would your Day of
+Sight have, if ever you should see?’ ‘I fear those Stars you talk of,’
+said _Belvira_, ‘have some Influence on you, and by the Compass you sail
+by now, I guess you are steering to my Cousin. She is indeed charming
+enough to have been another Offspring of bright _Venus_, Blind like her
+Brother _Cupid_.’ ‘That _Cupid_,’ reply’d _Celesia_, ‘I am afraid has
+shot me, for methinks I would not have you marry _Frankwit_, but rather
+live as you do without the last Enjoyment, for methinks if he were
+marry’d, he would be more out of Sight than he already is.’ ‘Ah, Madam,’
+return’d _Frankwit_, ‘Love is no Camelion, it cannot feed on Air alone.’
+‘No but,’ rejoyn’d _Celesia_, ‘you Lovers that are not Blind like Love
+it self, have am’rous Looks to feed on.’ ‘Ah! believe it,’ said
+_Belvira_, ‘’tis better, _Frankwit_, not to lose Paradice by too much
+Knowledge; Marriage Enjoyments does but wake you from your sweet golden
+Dreams: Pleasure is but a Dream, dear _Frankwit_, but a Dream, and to be
+waken’d.’ ‘Ah! Dearest, but unkind _Belvira_,’ answer’d _Frankwit_,
+‘sure there’s no waking from Delight, in being lull’d on those soft
+Breasts of thine.’ ‘Alas! (reply’d the Bride to be) it is that very
+lulling wakes you; Women enjoy’d, are like Romances read, or Raree-shows
+once seen, meer Tricks of the slight of Hand, which, when found out, you
+only wonder at your selves for wondering so before at them. ’Tis
+Expectation endears the Blessing; Heaven would not be Heaven, could we
+tell what ’tis. When the Plot’s out you have done with the Play, and
+when the last Act’s done, you see the Curtain drawn with great
+indifferency.’ ‘O my _Belvira_’, answered _Frankwit_, ‘that Expectation
+were indeed a Monster which Enjoyment could not satisfy: I should take
+no pleasure,’ he rejoin’d, ‘running from Hill to Hill, like Children
+chasing that Sun, which I could never catch.’ ‘O thou shalt have it
+then, that Sun of Love,’ reply’d _Belvira_, fir’d by this Complaint,
+and gently rush’d into Arms, (rejoyn’d) so _Phœbus_ rushes radiant and
+unsullied, into a gilded Cloud. ‘Well then, my dear _Belvira_,’ answered
+_Frankwit_, ‘be assured I shall be ever yours, as you are mine; fear not
+you shall never draw Bills of Love upon me so fast, as I shall wait in
+readiness to pay them; but now I talk of Bills, I must retire into
+_Cambridgeshire_, where I have a small Concern as yet unmortgaged,
+I will return thence with a Brace of thousand Pounds within a Week at
+furthest, with which our Nuptials, by their Celebration, shall be worthy
+of our Love. And then, my Life, my Soul, we shall be join’d, never to
+part again.’ This tender Expression mov’d _Belvira_ to shed some few
+Tears, and poor _Celesia_ thought herself most unhappy that she had not
+Eyes to weep with too; but if she had, such was the greatness of her
+Grief, that sure she would have soon grown Blind with weeping. In short,
+after a great many soft Vows, and Promises of an inviolable Faith, they
+parted with a pompous sort of pleasing Woe; their Concern was of such a
+mixture of Joy and Sadness, as the Weather seems, when it both rains and
+shines. And now the last, the very last Adieu’s was over, for the
+Farewels of Lovers hardly ever end, and _Frankwit_ (the Time being
+Summer) reach’d _Cambridge_ that Night, about Nine a Clock; (Strange!
+that he should have made such Haste to fly from what so much he lov’d!)
+and now, tir’d with the fatigue of his Journey, he thought fit to
+refresh himself by writing some few Lines to his belov’d _Belvira_; for
+a little Verse after the dull Prose Company of his Servant, was as great
+an Ease to him, (from whom it flow’d as naturally and unartificially, as
+his Love or his Breath) as a Pace or Hand-gallop, after a hard, uncouth,
+and rugged Trot. He therefore, finding his _Pegasus_ was no way tir’d
+with his Land-travel, takes a short Journey thro’ the Air, and writes as
+follows:
+
+  _My dearest dear +Belvira+,_
+
+  You knew my Soul, you knew it yours before,
+  I told it all, and now can tell no more;
+  Your Presents never wants fresh Charms to move,     }
+  But now more strange, and unknown Pow’r you prove,  }
+  For now your very Absence ’tis I love.              }
+  Something there is which strikes my wandring View,
+  And still before my Eyes I fancy you.
+  Charming you seem, all charming, heavenly fair,  }
+  Bright as a Goddess, does my Love appear,        }
+  You seem, _Belvira_, what indeed you are.        }
+  Like the Angelick Off-spring of the Skies,
+  With beatifick Glories in your Eyes:
+  Sparkling with radiant Lustre all Divine,             }
+  Angels, and Gods! oh Heavens! how bright they shine!  }
+  Are you _Belvira_? can I think you mine!              }
+  Beyond ev’n Thought, I do thy Beauties see,
+  Can such a Heaven of Heavens be kept for me!
+  Oh be assur’d, I shall be ever true,
+  I must----
+  For if I would, I can’t be false to you.
+  Oh! how I wish I might no longer stay,       }
+  Tho’ I resolve I will no Time delay,         }
+  One Tedious Week, and then I’ll fleet away.  }
+  Tho’ Love be blind, he shall conduct my Road,  }
+  Wing’d with almighty Love, to your Abode,      }
+  I’ll fly, and grow Immortal as a God.          }
+  Short is my stay, yet my impatience strong,
+  Short tho’ it is, alas! I think it long.
+  I’ll come, my Life, new Blessings to pursue,        }
+  Love then shall fly a Flight he never flew,         }
+  I’ll stretch his balmy Wings; I’m yours,--_Adieu_.  }
+
+  _Frankwit._
+
+This Letter _Belvira_ receiv’d with unspeakable Joy, and laid it up
+safely in her Bosom; laid it, where the dear Author of it lay before,
+and wonderfully pleas’d with his Humour of writing Verse, resolv’d not
+to be at all behind-hand with him, and so writ as follows:
+
+  _My dear Charmer,_
+
+  You knew before what Power your Love could boast,
+  But now your constant Faith confirms me most.
+  Absent Sincerity the best assures,              }
+  Love may do much, but Faith much more allures,  }
+  For now your Constancy has bound me yours.      }
+  I find, methinks, in Verse some Pleasure too,
+  I cannot want a Muse, who write to you.
+  Ah! soon return, return, my charming Dear,
+  Heav’n knows how much we Mourn your Absence here:
+  My poor _Celesia_ now would Charm your Soul,
+  Her Eyes, once Blind, do now Divinely rowl.
+  An aged Matron has by Charms unknown,
+  Given her clear Sight as perfect as thy own.
+  And yet, beyond her Eyes, she values thee,
+  ’Tis for thy Sake alone she’s glad to see.
+  She begg’d me, pray remember her to you,
+  That is a Task which now I gladly do.
+  Gladly, since so I only recommend                }
+  A dear Relation, and a dearer Friend,            }
+  Ne’re shall my Love--but here my Note must end.  }
+
+  _Your ever true +Belvira+._
+
+When this Letter was written, it was strait shown to _Celesia_, who
+look’d upon any Thing that belong’d to _Frankwit_, with rejoycing
+Glances; so eagerly she perus’d it, that her tender Eyes beginning to
+Water, she cry’d out, (fancying she saw the Words dance before her View)
+‘Ah! Cousin, Cousin, your Letter is running away, sure it can’t go
+itself to _Frankwit_.’ A great Deal of other pleasing innocent Things
+she said, but still her Eyes flow’d more bright with lustrous Beams, as
+if they were to shine out; now all that glancing Radiancy which had been
+so long kept secret, and, as if, as soon as the Cloud of Blindness once
+was broke, nothing but Lightnings were to flash for ever after. Thus in
+mutual Discourse they spent their Hours, while _Frankwit_ was now
+ravished with the Receipt of this charming Answer of _Belvira’s_, and
+blest his own Eyes which discovered to him the much welcome News of fair
+_Celesia’s_. Often he read the Letters o’re and o’re, but there his Fate
+lay hid, for ’twas that very Fondness proved his Ruin. He lodg’d at a
+Cousin’s House of his, and there, (it being a private Family) lodged
+likewise a Blackamoor Lady, then a Widower; a whimsical Knight had taken
+a Fancy to enjoy her: _Enjoy her did I say? Enjoy the Devil in the Flesh
+at once!_ I know not how it was, but he would fain have been a Bed with
+her, but she not consenting on unlawful Terms, (_but sure all Terms are
+with her unlawful_) the Knight soon marry’d her, as if there were not
+hell enough in Matrimony, but he must wed the Devil too. The Knight a
+little after died, and left this Lady of his (whom I shall _Moorea_) an
+Estate of six thousand Pounds _per Ann_. Now this _Moorea_ observed the
+joyous _Frankwit_ with an eager Look, her Eyes seemed like Stars of the
+first Magnitude glaring in the Night; she greatly importuned him to
+discover the Occasion of his transport, but he denying it, (as ’tis the
+Humour of our Sex) made her the more Inquisitive; and being Jealous that
+it was from a Mistress, employ’d her Maid to steal it, and if she found
+it such, to bring it her: accordingly it succeeded, for _Frankwit_
+having drank hard with some of the Gentlemen of that Shire, found
+himself indisposed, and soon went to Bed, having put the Letter in his
+Pocket: The Maid therefore to _Moorea_ contrived that all the other
+Servants should be out of the Way, that she might plausibly officiate in
+the Warming the Bed of the indisposed Lover, but likely, had it not been
+so, she had warmed it by his Intreaties in a more natural Manner; he
+being in Bed in an inner Room, she slips out the Letter from his Pocket,
+carries it to her Mistress to read, and so restores it whence she had
+it; in the Morning the poor Lover wakened in a violent Fever, burning
+with a Fire more hot than that of Love. In short, he continued Sick a
+considerable while, all which time the Lady _Moorea_ constantly visited
+him, and he as unwillingly saw her (poor Gentleman) as he would have
+seen a Parson; for as the latter would have perswaded, so the former
+scared him to Repentance. In the mean while, during his sickness,
+several Letters were sent to him by his dear _Belvira_, and _Celesia_
+too, (then learning to write) had made a shift to give him a line or two
+in Postscript with her Cousin, but all was intercepted by the jealousy
+of the Black _Moorea_, black in her mind, and dark, as well as in her
+body. _Frankwit_ too writ several Letters as he was able, complaining of
+her unkindness, those likewise were all stopt by the same Blackmoor
+Devil. At last, it happened that _Wildvill_, (who I told my Reader was
+_Frankwit’s_ friend) came to _London_, his Father likewise dead, and now
+Master of a very plentiful fortune, he resolves to marry, and paying a
+visit to _Belvira_, enquires of her concerning _Frankwit_, she all in
+mourning for the loss, told him his friend was dead. ‘Ah! _Wildvill_, he
+is dead,’ said she, ‘and died not mine, a Blackmoor Lady had bewitched
+him from me; I received a Letter lately which informed me all; there was
+no name subscribed to it, but it intimated, that it was written at the
+request of dying _Frankwit_.’ ‘Oh! I am sorry at my Soul,’ said
+_Wildvill_, ‘for I loved him with the best, the dearest friendship; no
+doubt then,’ rejoyned he, ‘’tis Witchcaft indeed that could make him
+false to you; what delight could he take in a Blackmoor Lady, tho’ she
+had received him at once with a Soul as open as her longing arms, and
+with her Petticoat put off her modesty. Gods! How could he change a
+whole _Field Argent_ into downright _Sables_.’ ‘’Twas done,’ returned
+_Celesia_, ‘with no small blot, I fancy, to the Female ’Scutcheon.’ In
+short, after some more discourse, but very sorrowful, _Wildvill_ takes
+his leave, extreamly taken with the fair _Belvira_, more beauteous in
+her cloud of woe; he paid her afterwards frequent visits, and found her
+wonder for the odd inconstancy of _Frankwit_, greater than her sorrow,
+since he dy’d so unworthy of her. _Wildvill_ attack’d her with all the
+force of vigorous love, and she (as she thought) fully convinc’d of
+_Frankwit’s_ death, urg’d by the fury and impatience of her new ardent
+Lover, soon surrender’d, and the day of their Nuptials now arriv’d,
+their hands were joyn’d. In the mean time _Frankwit_ (for he still
+liv’d) knew nothing of the Injury the base _Moorea_ practis’d, knew not
+that ’twas thro’ her private order, that the fore-mention’d account of
+his falshood and his death was sent; but impatient to see his Dear
+_Belvira_, tho’ yet extremely weak, rid post to _London_, and that very
+day arriv’d there, immediately after the Nuptials of his Mistress and
+his Friend were celebrated. I was at this time in _Cambridge_, and
+having some small acquaintance with this Blackmoor Lady, and sitting in
+her Room that evening, after _Frankwit’s_ departure thence, in
+_Moorea’s_ absence, saw inadvertently a bundle of Papers, which she had
+gathered up, as I suppose, to burn, since now they grew but useless, she
+having no farther Hopes of him: I fancy’d I knew the Hand, and thence my
+Curiosity only led me to see the Name and finding _Belvira_ subscrib’d,
+I began to guess there was some foul play in Hand. _Belvira_ being my
+particularly intimate Acquaintance, I read one of them, and finding the
+Contents, convey’d them all secretly out with me, as I thought, in Point
+of Justice I was bound, and sent them to _Belvira_ by that Night’s Post;
+so that they came to her Hands soon after the Minute of her Marriage,
+with an Account how, and by what Means I came to light on them. No doubt
+but they exceedingly surpriz’d her: But Oh! Much more she grew amaz’d
+immediately after, to see the Poor, and now unhappy _Frankwit_, who
+privately had enquir’d for her below, being received as a Stranger, who
+said he had some urgent Business with her, in a back Chamber below
+Stairs. What Tongue, what Pen can express the mournful Sorrow of this
+Scene! At first they both stood Dumb, and almost Senseless; she took him
+for the Ghost of _Frankwit_; he looked so pale, new risen from his
+Sickness, he (for he had heard at his Entrance in the House, that his
+_Belvira_ marry’d _Wildvill_) stood in Amaze, and like a Ghost indeed,
+wanted the Power to speak, till spoken to the first. At last, he draws
+his Sword, designing there to fall upon it in her Presence; she then
+imagining it his Ghost too sure, and come to kill her, shrieks out and
+Swoons; he ran immediately to her, and catch’d her in his Arms, and
+while he strove to revive and bring her to herself, tho’ that he thought
+could never now be done, since she was marry’d. _Wildvill_ missing his
+Bride, and hearing the loud Shriek, came running down, and entring the
+Room, sees his Bride lie clasp’d in _Frankwit’s_ Arms. ‘Ha! Traytor!’ He
+cries out, drawing his Sword with an impatient Fury, ‘have you kept that
+Strumpet all this while, curst _Frankwit_, and now think fit to put your
+damn’d cast Mistress upon me: could not you forbear her neither ev’n on
+my Wedding Day? abominable Wretch!’ Thus saying, he made a full Pass at
+_Frankwit_, and run him thro’ the left Arm, and quite thro’ the Body of
+the poor _Belvira_; that thrust immediately made her start, tho’
+_Frankwit’s_ Endeavours all before were useless. Strange! that her Death
+reviv’d her! For ah! she felt, that now she only liv’d to die! Striving
+thro’ wild Amazement to run from such a Scene of Horror, as her
+Apprehensions shew’d her; down she dropt, and _Frankwit_ seeing her
+fall, (all Friendship disannull’d by such a Chain of Injuries) Draws,
+fights with, and stabs his own loved _Wildvill_. Ah! Who can express the
+Horror and Distraction of this fatal Misunderstanding! The House was
+alarm’d, and in came poor _Celesia_, running in Confusion just as
+_Frankwit_ was off’ring to kill himself, to die with a false Friend, and
+perjur’d Mistress, for he suppos’d them such. Poor _Celesia_ now
+bemoan’d her unhappiness of sight, and wish’d she again were blind.
+_Wildvill_ dy’d immediately, and _Belvira_ only surviv’d him long enough
+to unfold all their most unhappy fate, desiring _Frankwit_ with her
+dying breath, if ever he lov’d her, (and now she said that she deserv’d
+his love, since she had convinced him that she was not false) to marry
+her poor dear _Celesia_, and love her tenderly for her _Belvira’s_ sake;
+leaving her, being her nearest Relation, all her fortune, and he, much
+dearer than it all, to be added to her own; so joyning his and
+_Celesia’s_ Hands, she poured her last breath upon his Lips, and said,
+‘Dear _Frankwit_, _Frankwit_, I die yours.’ With tears and wondrous
+sorrow he promis’d to obey her Will, and in some months after her
+interrment, he perform’d his promise.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unfortunate Bride.
+
+
+p. 401 _To Richard Norton._ This Epistle Dedicatory is only to be found
+in the first edition of _The Unfortunate Bride; or, The Blind Lady a
+Beauty_, ‘Printed for Samuel Briscoe, in Charles-Street, Covent-Garden,
+1698’, and also dated, on title page facing the portrait of Mrs. Behn,
+1700.
+
+Southwick, Hants, is a parish and village some 1¾ miles from
+Portchester, 4½ from Fareham. Richard Norton was son and heir of Sir
+Daniel Norton, who died seised of the manor in 1636. Richard Norton
+married Anne, daughter of Sir William Earle, by whom he had one child,
+Sarah. He was, in his county at least, a figure of no little importance.
+Tuesday, 12 August, 1701, Luttrell records that ‘an addresse from the
+grand jury of Hampshire . . . was delivered by Richard Norton and
+Anthony Henly, esqs. to the lords justices, to be laid before his
+majestie.’ He aimed at being a patron of the fine arts, and under his
+superintendence Dryden’s _The Spanish Friar_ was performed in the frater
+of Southwick Priory,[1] the buildings of which had not been entirely
+destroyed at the suppression. Colley Cibber addresses the Dedicatory
+Epistle (January, 1695) of his first play, _Love’s Last Shift_ (4to,
+1696), to Norton in a highly eulogistic strain. The plate of Southwick
+Church (S. James), consisting of a communion cup, a standing paten, two
+flagons, an alms-dish, and a rat-tail spoon, is silver-gilt, and was
+presented by Richard Norton in 1691. He died 10 December, 1732.
+
+    [Footnote 1: The house was one of Black (Austin) Canons.]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE DUMB VIRGIN; OR, THE FORCE OF IMAGINATION.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so romantically
+and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt with in happier
+mood by Mrs. Behn in _The Dutch Lover_. _Vide_ Note on the Source of
+that play, Vol. I, p. 218.
+
+In classic lore the Œdipus Saga enthralled the imagination of antiquity
+and inspired dramas amongst the world’s masterpieces. Later forms of the
+tale may be found in Suidas and Cedrenus.
+
+The Legend of St. Gregory, based on a similar theme, the hero of which,
+however, is innocent throughout, was widely diffused through mediæval
+Europe. It forms No. 81 of the _Gesta Romanorum_. There is an old
+English poem[1] on the subject, and it also received lyric treatment at
+the hands of the German meistersinger, Hartmann von Aue. An Italian
+story, _Il Figliuolo di germani_, the chronicle of St. Albinus, and the
+Servian romaunt of the Holy Foundling Simeon embody similar
+circumstances.
+
+Matteo Bandello, Part II, has a famous[2] novel (35) with rubric, ‘un
+gentiluomo navarrese sposa una, che era sua sorella e figliuola, non lo
+sapendo,’ which is almost exactly the same as the thirtieth story of the
+_Heptameron_. As the good Bishop declares that it was related to him by
+a lady living in the district, it is probable that some current
+tradition furnished both him and the Queen of Navarre with these
+horrible incidents and that neither copied from the other.[3]
+
+Bandello was imitated in Spanish by J. Perez de Montalvan, _Sucesos y
+Prodigios de Amor--La Mayor confusion_; in Latin by D. Otho Melander;
+and he also gave Desfontaines the subject of _L’Inceste Innocent;
+Histoire Véritable_ (Paris, 1644). A similar tale is touched upon in
+_Amadis de Gaule_, and in a later century we find _Le Criminel sans le
+Savoir, Roman Historique et Poëtique_ (Amsterdam and Paris, 1783). It
+is also found in Brevio’s _Rime e Prose_; Volgari, novella iv; and in
+T. Grapulo (or Grappolino), _Il Convito Borghesiano_ (Londra, 1800).
+A cognate legend is _Le Dit du Buef_ and _Le Dit de la Bourjosee de
+Rome_. (ed. Jubinal, _Nouveau Recueil_; and _Nouveau Recueil du Sénateur
+de Rome . . ._ ed. Méon.) Again: the _Leggenda di Vergogna, etc. testi
+del buon secolo in prosa e in verso_, edited by A. D’Ancona (Bologna,
+1869) repeats the same catastrophe. It is also related in Byshop’s
+_Blossoms_.
+
+In Luther’s _Colloquia Mensalia_, under the article ‘Auricular
+Confession’, the occurrence is said to have taken place at Erfurt in
+Germany. Julio de Medrano, a Spanish writer of the sixteenth century,
+says that a similar story was related to him when he was in the
+Bourbonnois, where the inhabitants pointed out the house which had been
+the scene of these morbid passions. France, indeed, seems to have been
+the home of the tradition, and Le Roux de Lincy in the notes to his
+excellent edition of the _Heptameron_ quotes from Millin, _Antiquités
+Nationales_ (t. iii. f. xxviii. p. 6.) who, speaking of the Collegiate
+Church of Ecouis, says that in the midst of the nave there was a
+prominent white marbel tablet with this epitaph:--
+
+  Cy-gist la fille, cy-gist le père,
+  Cy-gist la soeur, cy-gist le frère;
+  Cy-gist la femme, et le mary,
+  Et si n’y a que deux corps icy.
+
+The tradition ran that a son of ‘Madame d’Ecouis avait eu de sa mère
+sans la connaître et sans en être reconnu une fille nommée Cécile. Il
+épousa ensuite en Lorraine cette même Cécile qui était auprès de la
+Duchesse de Bar . . . Il furent enterrés dans le même tombeau en 1512 à
+Ecouis.’ An old sacristan used to supply curious visitors to the church
+with a leaflet detailing the narrative. The same story is attached to
+other parishes, and at Alincourt, a village between Amiens and
+Abbeville, the following lines are inscribed upon a grave:--
+
+  Ci git le fils, ci git la mère,
+  Ci git la fille avec le père,
+  Ci git la soeur, ci git le frère,
+  Ci git la femme et le mari,
+  Et ne sont pas que trois corps ici.
+
+When Walpole wrote his tragedy, _The Mysterious Mother_ (1768), he
+states he had no knowledge of Bandello or the _Heptameron_, but he gives
+the following account of the origin of his theme. ‘I had heard when very
+young, that a gentlewoman, under uncommon agonies of mind, had waited on
+Archbishop Tillotson and besought his counsel. A damsel that served her
+had, many years before, acquainted her that she was importuned by the
+gentlewoman’s son to grant him a private meeting. The mother ordered the
+maiden to make the assignation, when she said she would discover herself
+and reprimand him for his criminal passion; but, being hurried away by a
+much more criminal passion herself, she kept the assignation without
+discovering herself. The fruit of this horrid artifice was a daughter,
+whom the gentlewoman caused to be educated very privately in the
+country; but proving very lovely and being accidentally met by her
+father-brother, who never had the slightest suspicion of the truth, he
+had fallen in love with and actually married her. The wretched guilty
+mother learning what had happened, and distracted with the consequence
+of her crime, had now resorted to the Archbishop to know in what manner
+she should act. The prelate charged her never to let her son and
+daughter know what had passed, as they were innocent of any criminal
+intention. For herself, he bad her almost despair.’
+
+The same story occurs in the writings of the famous Calvinistic divine,
+William Perkins (1558-1602), sometime Rector of St. Andrew’s, Cambridge.
+Thence it was extracted for _The Spectator_.
+
+In Mat Lewis’ ghoulish romance, _The Monk_ (1796) it will be remembered
+that Ambrosio, after having enjoyed Antonia, to whose bedchamber he has
+gained admittance by demoniacal aid, discovers that she is his sister,
+and heaping crime upon crime to sorcery and rape he has added incest.
+
+There is a tragic little novel, ‘_The Illegal Lovers; a True Secret
+History._ Being an Amour Between A Person of Condition and his Sister.
+Written by One who did reside in the Family.’ (8vo, 1728.) After the
+death of his wife, Bellario falls in love with his sister Lindamira.
+Various sentimental letters pass between the two, and eventually
+Bellario in despair pistols himself. The lady lives to wed another
+admirer. The tale was obviously suggested by the _Love Letters between a
+Nobleman and his Sister_.
+
+    [Footnote 1: There are three MSS. _Vernon MS._, Oxford, edited by
+    Horstmann; _MS. Cott_, _Cleop. D. ix_, British Museum; _Auchinleck
+    MS._, Advocates’ Library, Edinburgh, edited with glossary by
+    F. Schultz, 1876.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: cf. Masuccio. _Il Novellino_, No. 23.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: Bandello’s novels first appeared at Lucca, 4to, 1554.
+    Marguerite of Angoulême died 21 December, 1549. The _Heptameron_
+    was composed 1544-8 and published 1558.]
+
+
+
+
+THE DUMB VIRGIN: or, the Force of Imagination.
+
+
+_Rinaldo_, a Senator of the great City _Venice_, by a plentiful
+Inheritance, and industrious Acquisitions, was become Master of a very
+plentiful Estate; which, by the Countenance of his Family, sprung from
+the best Houses in _Italy_, had rendred him extreamly popular and
+honoured; he had risen to the greatest Dignities of that State, all
+which Offices he discharged with Wisdom and Conduct, befitting the
+Importance of his Charge, and Character of the Manager; but this great
+Person had some Accident in his Children, sufficient to damp all the
+Pleasure of his more smiling Fortunes; he married when young,
+a beautiful and virtuous Lady, who had rendred him the happy Father of a
+Son; but his Joys were soon disturbed by the following Occasion.
+
+There stands an Island in the _Adriatick_ Sea, about twenty Leagues from
+_Venice_, a Place wonderfully pleasant in the Summer, where Art and
+Nature seem to out-rival each other, or seem rather to combine in
+rendring it the most pleasant of their products; being placed under the
+most benign climate in the World, and situated exactly between _Italy_
+and _Greece_, it appears an entire Epitome of all the Pleasures in them
+both; the proper glories of the Island were not a little augmented by
+the confluence of Gentlemen and Ladies of the chiefest Rank in the City,
+insomuch that this was a greater mark for Beauty and Gallantry, than
+_Venice_ for Trade. Among others _Rinaldo’s_ Lady begged her Husband’s
+permission to view this so much celebrated place.
+
+He was unwilling to trust his treasure to the treachery of the watry
+element; but repeating her request, he yielded to her desires, his love
+not permitting him the least shew of command, and so thro’ its extent,
+conspiring its own destruction. His Lady with her young Son (whom she
+would not trust from her sight) and a splendid attendance in a Barge
+well fitted, sets out for the Island, _Rinaldo_ being detained at home
+himself about some important affairs relating to the publick, committed
+the care of his dear Wife and Child to a faithful Servant call’d
+_Gaspar_; and for their greater security against Pyrates, had obtained
+his Brother, who commanded a _Venetian_ Galley, to attend them as
+Convoy. In the evening they set out from _Venice_, with a prosperous
+gale, but a storm arising in the night, soon separated the Barge from
+her Convoy, and before morning drove her beyond the designed Port, when,
+instead of discovering the wish’d-for Island, they could see a _Turkish_
+Pyrate bearing towards them, with all her Sail; their late apprehensions
+of Shipwrack, were drowned in the greater danger of Captivity and
+lasting Slavery, their fears drove some into resolutions as extravagant
+as the terrors that caused them, but the confusion of all was so
+tumultuous, and the designs so various, that nothing could be put in
+execution for the publick safety; the greatest share of the passengers
+being Ladies, added strangely to the consternation; beauty always adds a
+pomp to woe, and by its splendid show, makes sorrow look greater and
+more moving. Some by their piteous plaints and wailings proclaimed their
+griefs aloud, whilst others bespoke their sorrows more emphatically by
+sitting mournfully silent; the fears of some animated them to
+extravagant actions, whilst the terrors of others were so mortifying,
+that they shewed no sign of Life, but by their trembling; some mourned
+the rigour of their proper fate, others conscious of the sorrows their
+Friends and Relations should sustain through their loss, made the griefs
+of them their own; but the heaviest load of misfortunes lay on
+_Rinaldo’s_ Lady, besides the loss of her liberty, the danger of her
+honour, the separation from her dear Husband, the care for her tender
+Infant wrought rueful distractions; she caught her Child in her Arms,
+and with Tears extorted thro’ Fear and Affection, she deplor’d the
+Misfortune of her Babe, the pretty Innocent smiling in the Embraces of
+its Mother, shew’d that Innocence cou’d deride the Persecution of
+Fortune; at length she delivered the Infant into the Hand of _Gasper_,
+begging him to use all Endeavours in its Preservation, by owning it for
+his, when they fell into the Hands of the Enemy.
+
+But _Gasper_, who amidst the universal Consternation, had a peculiar
+Regard to his own Safety, and Master’s Interest, undertook a Design
+desperately brave. Two long Planks, which lay lengthwise in the Barge,
+as Seats, he had ty’d together with Ropes, and taking the Infant from
+the Mother, whilst the whole Vessel was in a distracted Confusion, he
+fast’ned it to the Planks, and shoving both over-board before him,
+plung’d into the Sea after, dragging the Planks that bore the Infant
+with one Hand, and swimming with t’other, making the next Land; he had
+swam about two hundred Paces from the Barge before his Exploit was
+discover’d, but then the Griefs of _Rinaldo’s_ Lady were doubly
+augmented, seeing her Infant expos’d to the Fury of the merciless Winds
+and Waves, which she then judged more rigorous than the _Turks_; for to
+a weak Mind, that Danger works still the strongest, that’s most in View;
+but when the Pirate, who by this time had fetch’d them within Shot,
+began to Fire, she seem’d pleas’d that her Infant was out of that
+Hazard, tho’ exposed to a greater. Upon their Sign of yielding, the
+_Turk_ launching out her Boat, brought them all on board her; but she
+had no time to examine her Booty, being saluted by a Broadside,
+vigorously discharg’d from a _Venetian_ Galley, which bore down upon
+them, whilst they were taking aboard their Spoil; this Galley was that
+commanded by _Rinaldo’s_ Brother, which cruising that Way in quest of
+the Barge, happily engag’d the _Turk_, before they had Leisure to offer
+any Violence to the Ladies, and plying her warmly the Space of two
+Hours, made her a Prize, to the inexpressible Joy of the poor Ladies,
+who all this time under Hatches, had sustain’d the Horrors of ten
+thousand Deaths by dreading one.
+
+All the greater Dangers over, _Rinaldo’s_ Lady began to reflect on the
+strange Riddle of her Son’s Fortune, who by shunning one Fate, had
+(in all Probability) fallen into a worse, for they were above ten
+Leagues from any Land, and the Sea still retain’d a Roughness, unsettled
+since the preceeding Storm; she therefore begg’d her Brother-in-Law to
+Sail with all Speed in Search of her Son and _Gasper_; but all in vain,
+for cruising that Day, and the succeeding Night along the Coasts,
+without making any Discovery of what they sought, he sent a Boat to be
+inform’d by the Peasants, of any such Landing upon their Coast; but they
+soon had a dismal Account, finding the Body of _Gasper_ thrown dead on
+the Sand, and near to him the Planks, the unhappy Occasion of his
+Flight, and the Faithless Sustainers of the Infant. So thinking these
+mournful Objects Testimonies enough of the Infant’s Loss, they return’d
+with the doleful Relation to their Captain and the Lady; her Grief at
+the recital of the Tragic Story, had almost transported her to Madness;
+what Account must she now make to the mournful Father, who esteem’d this
+Child the chief Treasure of his Life; she fear’d, that she might forfeit
+the Affection of a Husband, by being the unfortunate Cause of so great a
+Loss; but her Fears deceiv’d her, for altho’ her Husband, receiv’d her
+with great Grief, ’twas nevertheless moderated by the Patience of a
+Christian, and the Joy for recovering his beloved Lady.
+
+This Misfortune was soon lessen’d by the growing Hopes of another
+Off-spring, which made them divest their Mourning, to make Preparations
+for the joyful Reception of this new Guest into the World; and upon its
+Appearance their Sorrows were redoubled, ’twas a Daughter, its Limbs
+were distorted, its Back bent, and tho’ the face was the freest from
+Deformity, yet had it no Beauty to Recompence the Dis-symetry of the
+other Parts; Physicians being consulted in this Affair, derived the
+Cause from the Frights and dismal Apprehensions of the Mother, at her
+being taken by the Pyrates; about which time they found by Computation,
+the Conception of the Child to be; the Mother grew very Melancholy,
+rarely speaking, and not to be comforted by any Diversion. She conceiv’d
+again, but no hopes of better Fortune cou’d decrease her Grief, which
+growing with her Burden, eased her of both at once, for she died in
+Child-birth, and left the most beautiful Daughter to the World that ever
+adorn’d _Venice_, but naturally and unfortunately Dumb, which defect the
+learn’d attributed to the Silence and Melancholy of the Mother, as the
+Deformity of the other was to the Extravagance of her Frights.
+
+_Rinaldo_, waving all Intentions of a second Marriage, directs his
+Thoughts to the Care of his Children, their Defects not lessening his
+Inclination, but stirring up his Endeavours in supplying the Defaults of
+Nature by the Industry of Art; he accordingly makes the greatest
+Provision for their Breeding and Education, which prov’d so effectual in
+a little Time, that their Progress was a greater Prodigy than
+themselves.
+
+The Eldest, called _Belvideera_, was indefatigably addicted to Study,
+which she had improv’d so far, that by the sixteenth Year of her Age,
+she understood all the _European_ Languages, and cou’d speak most of’em,
+but was particularly pleas’d with the _English_, which gave me the
+Happiness of many Hours Conversation with her; and I may ingenuously
+declare, ’twas the most Pleasant I ever enjoy’d, for besides a piercing
+Wit, and depth of Understanding peculiar to herself, she delivered her
+Sentiments with that easiness and grace of Speech, that it charm’d all
+her Hearers.
+
+The Beauties of the second Sister, nam’d _Maria_, grew with her Age,
+every twelve Months saluting her with a New-years Gift of some peculiar
+Charm; her Shapes were fine set off with a graceful and easy Carriage;
+the Majesty and Softness of her Face, at once wrought Love and
+Veneration; the Language of her Eyes sufficiently paid the Loss of her
+Tongue, and there was something so Commanding in her Look, that it
+struck every Beholder as dumb as herself; she was a great Proficient in
+Painting, which puts me in mind of a notable Story I can’t omit; her
+Father had sent for the most Famous Painter in _Italy_ to draw her
+Picture, she accordingly sat for it; he had drawn some of the Features
+of her Face; and coming to the Eye, desired her to give him as brisk and
+piercing a Glance as she cou’d; but the Vivacity of her Look so
+astonished the Painter, that thro’ concern he let his Pencil drop and
+spoiled the Picture; he made a second Essay, but with no better Success,
+for rising in great Disorder, he swore it impossible to draw that which
+he cou’d not look upon; the Lady vexed at the Weakness of the Painter,
+took up his Pencils and the Picture, and sitting down to her Glass,
+finished it herself; she had improv’d her silent Conversation with her
+Sister so far, that she was understood by her, as if she had spoke, and
+I remember this Lady was the first I saw use the significative Way of
+Discourse by the Fingers; I dare not say ’twas she invented it (tho’ it
+probably might have been an Invention of these ingenious Sisters) but I
+am positive none before her ever brought it to that Perfection.
+
+In the seventeenth of _Belvideera’s_, and sixteenth Year of _Maria’s_
+Age, _Francisco_, Brother to _Rinaldo_, was made Admiral of the
+_Venetian_ Fleet, and upon his first Entrance upon his Command, had
+obtained a signal Victory over the _Turks_; he returning to _Venice_
+with Triumph, applause and spoil, presented to the great Duke a young
+_English_ Gentleman, who only as a Volunteer in the Action, had
+signalized himself very bravely in the Engagement, but particularly by
+first boarding the _Turkish_ Admiral Galley, and killing her Commander
+hand to hand; the Fame of this Gentleman soon spread over all _Venice_,
+and the two Sisters sent presently for me, to give an Account of the
+Exploits of my Countryman, as their Unkle had recounted it to them;
+I was pleas’d to find so great an Example of _English_ Bravery, so far
+from Home, and long’d extreamly to converse with him, vainly flattering
+myself, that he might have been of my Acquaintance. That very Night
+there was a grand Ball and Masquerade at the great Duke’s Palace, for
+the most signal Joy of the late Success, thither _Belvideera_ invited me
+to Accompany her and _Maria_, adding withal as a Motive, that we might
+there most probably meet, and Discourse with this young Hero; and
+equipping me with a Suit of Masquerade, they carried me in their Coach
+to the Ball, where we had pass’d half an Hour, when I saw enter a
+handsom Gentleman in a rich _English_ Dress; I show’d him to
+_Belvideera_, who moving towards him, with a gallant Air, slaps him on
+the Shoulder with her Fan, he turning about, and viewing her Person, the
+Defaults of which were not altogether hidden by her Disguise; ‘Sir,
+(said he) if you are a Man, know that I am one, and will not bear
+Impertinence; but, if you are a Lady, Madam, as I hope in Heavens you
+are not, I must inform you, that I am under a Vow, not to converse with
+any Female to Night;’ ‘Know then, Sir, (answered _Belvideera_ very
+smartly) that I am a Female, and you have broke your Vow already; but
+methinks, Sir, the Ladies are very little oblig’d to your Vow, which
+wou’d rob them of the Conversation of so fine a Gentleman.’
+
+‘Madam, (said the Gentleman) the Sweetness of your Voice bespeaks you a
+Lady, and I hope the breaking my Vow will be so far from Damning me,
+that I shall thereby merit Heaven, if I may be blest in your Divine
+Conversation.’ _Belvideera_ made such ingenious and smart Repartees to
+the Gentleman, who was himself a great Courtier, that he was entirely
+captivated with her Wit, insomuch, that he cou’d not refrain making
+Protestations of his Passion; he talked about half an Hour in such pure
+_Italian_, that I began to mistrust my _Englishman_, wherefore taking
+some Occasion to jest upon his Habit, I found ’twas only a Masquerade to
+cloak a down-right _Venetian_; in the mean Time, we perceiv’d a
+Gentleman Gallantly attir’d with no Disguise but a _Turkish_ Turbant on,
+the richliest beset with Jewels I ever saw; he addressed _Maria_ with
+all the Mien and Air of the finest Courtier; he had talked to her a good
+while before we heard him, but then _Belvideera_, knowing her poor
+Sister uncapable of any Defence, ‘Sir, (said she to the _Venetian_,)
+yonder is a Lady of my Acquaintance, who lies under a Vow of Silence as
+you were, I must therefore beg your Pardon, and fly to her Relief’: ‘She
+can never be conquer’d, who has such a Champion,’ (reply’d the
+Gentleman) upon which _Belvideera_ turning from him, interpos’d between
+the Gentleman and her Sister, saying, ‘This Lady, Sir, is under an
+Obligation of Silence, as a Penance imposed by her Father-Confessor.’
+‘Madam, (reply’d the Gentleman) whoever impos’d Silence on these fair
+Lips, is guilty of a greater Offence than any, such a fair Creature
+cou’d commit.’ ‘Why, Sir, (said _Belvideera_) have you seen the Lady’s
+Beauty’: ‘Yes, Madam, (answer’d he) for urging her to talk, which I
+found she declin’d, I promis’d to disengage her from any farther
+Impertinence, upon a Sight of her Face; she agreed by paying the Price
+of her Liberty, which was ransom enough for any Thing under Heavens, but
+her fair Company’; he spoke in an Accent that easily shew’d him a
+Stranger; which _Belvideera_ laying hold of, as an Occasion of Railery,
+‘Sir, (said she,) your Tongue pronounces you a great Stranger in this
+Part of the World, I hope you are not what that Turbant represents;
+perhaps, Sir, you think your self in the Seraglio’; ‘Madam,
+(reply’d he,) this Turbant might have been in the _Turkish_ Seraglio,
+but never in so fair a one as this; and this Turbant (taking it off) is
+now to be laid at the Foot of some Christian Lady, for whose safety, and
+by whose protecting Influence, I had the Happiness to win it from the
+Captain of the _Turkish_ Admiral Galley.’ We were all surpriz’d, knowing
+him then the young _English_ Gentleman, we were so curious of seeing;
+_Belvideera_ presently talk’d _English_ to him, and made him some very
+pretty Complements upon his Victory, which so charm’d the young Soldier,
+that her Tongue claim’d an equal Share in his Heart with _Maria’s_ Eyes;
+‘Madam, (said he to her) if you have the Beauty of that Lady, or if she
+has your Wit, I am the most happy, or the most unfortunate Man alive.’
+‘Sir,’ said the _Venetian_ coming up, ‘pray give me leave to share in
+your Misfortunes.’ ‘Sir, (said _Belvideera_ very smartly) you must share
+in his good Fortunes, and learn to conquer Men, before you have the
+Honour of being subdu’d by Ladies, we scorn mean Prizes, Sir.’ ‘Madam,
+(said the _Venetian_ in some Choler) perhaps I can subdue a Rival.’
+‘Pray, Sir, (said the Stranger) don’t be angry with the Lady, she’s not
+your Rival I hope, Sir.’ Said the _Venetian_, ‘I can’t be angry at the
+Lady, because I love her; but my Anger must be levell’d at him, who
+after this Declaration dare own a Passion for her.’ ‘Madam, (said the
+_English_ Gentleman turning from the _Venetian_) Honour now must extort
+a Confession from me, which the Awfulness of my Passion durst never have
+own’d: And I must declare,’ added he in a louder Voice, ‘to all the
+World, that I love you, lest this Gentleman shou’d think his Threats
+forc’d me to disown it.’ ‘O! then (said _Belvideera_) you’re his Rival
+in Honour, not in Love.’ ‘In honourable Love I am, Madam,’ answer’d the
+Stranger. ‘I’ll try,’ (said the _Venetian_, going off in Choler,) he
+Whisper’d a little to a Gentleman, that stood at some Distance, and
+immediately went out; this was _Gonzago_, a Gentleman of good Reputation
+in _Venice_, his Principles were Honour and Gallantry, but the Former
+often sway’d by Passions, rais’d by the Latter. All this while, _Maria_
+and I were admiring the Stranger, whose Person was indeed wonderfully
+Amiable; his Motions were exact, yet free and unconstrain’d; the Tone of
+his Voice carried a sweet Air of Modesty in it, yet were all his
+Expressions manly; and to summ up all, he was as fine an _English_
+Gentleman, as I ever saw Step in the _Mall_.
+
+Poor _Maria_ never before envied her Sister the Advantage of Speech, or
+never deplor’d the Loss of her own with more Regret, she found something
+so Sweet in the Mien, Person, and Discourse of this Stranger, that her
+Eyes felt a dazling Pleasure in beholding him, and like flattering
+Mirrours represented every Action and Feature, with some heightning
+Advantage to her Imagination: _Belvideera_ also had some secret Impulses
+of Spirit, which drew her insensibly into a great Esteem of the
+Gentleman; she ask’d him, by what good Genius, propitious to _Venice_,
+he was induced to Live so remote from his Country; he said, that he
+cou’d not imploy his Sword better than against the common Foe of
+Christianity; and besides, there was a peculiar Reason, which prompted
+him to serve there, which Time cou’d only make known. I made bold to ask
+him some peculiar Questions, about Affairs at Court, to most of which he
+gave Answers, that shew’d his Education liberal, and himself no Stranger
+to Quality; he call’d himself _Dangerfield_, which was a Name that so
+pleas’d me, that being since satisfied it was a Counterfeit, I us’d it
+in a Comedy of mine: We had talk’d ’till the greater Part of the Company
+being dispers’d, _Dangerfield_ begg’d Leave to attend us to our Coach,
+and waiting us to the Door, the Gentleman, whom _Gonzago_ whisper’d,
+advanc’d and offer’d his Service to hand _Maria_; she declin’d it, and
+upon his urging, she turn’d to the other Side of _Dangerfield_, who, by
+this Action of the Ladies finding himself intitled to her Protection,
+‘Sir, (said he) Favours from great Beauties, as from great Monarchs,
+must flow Voluntarily, not by Constraint, and whosoever wou’d extort
+from either, are liable to the great Severity of Punishment.’ ‘Oh! Sir,
+(reply’d the _Venetian_ very arrogantly,) I understand not your
+Monarchy, we live here under a free State; besides, Sir, where there is
+no Punishment to be dreaded, the Law will prove of little Force; and so,
+Sir, by your Leave,’ offering to push him aside, and lay hold on the
+Lady. _Dangerfield_ returned the Justle so vigorously, that the
+_Venetian_ fell down the Descent of some Stairs at the Door, and broke
+his Sword: _Dangerfield_ leap’d down after him, to prosecute his
+Chastizement, but seeing his Sword broken, only whisper’d him, that if
+he wou’d meet him next Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St. _Mark’s_
+Church, he wou’d satisfie him for the Loss of his Sword; upon which, the
+_Venetian_ immediately went off, cursing his ill Fate, that prevented
+his quarrelling with _Dangerfield_, to whom he had born a grudging Envy
+ever since his Success in the late Engagement, and of whom, and his
+Lodgings, he had given _Gonzago_ an Account, when he whisper’d him at
+the Ball. _Dangerfield_ left us full of his Praises, and went home to
+his Lodgings, where he found a Note directed to him to this Effect:
+
+  SIR,
+
+  _You declared Publickly at the Ball, you were my Rival in Love and
+  Honour: If you dare prove it by Maintaining it, I shall be to morrow
+  Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St. +Mark’s+ Church, where I
+  shall be ready to fall a Sacrifice to both._
+
+  Gonzago.
+
+_Dangerfield_, on the Perusal of this Challenge, began to reflect on
+the Strangeness of that Evening’s Adventure, which had engag’d him
+in a Passion for two Mistresses, and involv’d him in two Duels;
+and whether the Extravagance of his Passion, or the Oddness of his
+Fighting-Appointments, were most remarkable, he found hard to Determine;
+his Love was divided between the Beauty of one Lady, and Wit of another,
+either of which he loved passionately, yet nothing cou’d satisfy him,
+but the Possibility of enjoying both. He had appointed the Gentleman at
+the Ball to meet him at the same Time and Place, which _Gonzago’s_
+Challenge to him imported; this Disturbance employed his Thought till
+Morning, when rising and dressing himself very richly, he walked to the
+appointed Place. _Erizo_, who was the Gentleman whose Sword he had
+broke, was in the Place before him; and _Gonzago_ entered at the same
+Time with him. _Erizo_, was surprized to see _Gonzago_, as much as he
+was to find _Erizo_ there. ‘I don’t remember, Friend (said _Gonzago_)
+that I desired your Company here this Morning.’ ‘As much as I expected
+yours,’ answered _Erizo_. ‘Come, Gentlemen, (said _Dangerfield_,
+interrupting them) I must fight you both, it seems: which shall I
+dispatch first?’ ‘Sir, (said _Erizo_) you challeng’d me, and therefore I
+claim your Promise.’ ‘Sir, (reply’d _Gonzago_) he must require the same
+of me first, as I challenged him.’ Said _Erizo_, ‘the Affront I received
+was unpardonable, and therefore I must fight him first, lest if he fall
+by your Hands, I be depriv’d of my Satisfaction.’ ‘Nay (reply’d
+_Gonzago_) my Love and Honour being laid at Stake, first claims his
+Blood; and therefore, Sir, (continued he to _Dangerfield_) defend
+yourself.’ ‘Hold (said _Erizo_ interposing,) if you thrust home, you
+injure me, your Friend.’ ‘You have forfeited that title, (said _Gonzago_
+all in Choler,) and therefore if you stand not aside, I’ll push at you.’
+‘Thrust home then, (said _Erizo_) and take what follows.’ They
+immediately assaulted each other vigorously. ‘Hold, Gentlemen, (said
+_Dangerfield_ striking down their Swords) by righting your selves you
+injure me, robbing me of that Satisfaction, which you both owe me, and
+therefore, Gentlemen, you shall fight me, before any private Quarrel
+among your selves defraud me of my Revenge, and so one or both of you,’
+thrusting first at _Erizo_. ‘I’m your Man,’ (said _Gonzago_) parrying
+the Thrust made at _Erizo_. The Clashing of so many Swords alarm’d some
+Gentlemen at their _Mattins_ in the Church, among whom was _Rinaldo_,
+who since the Death of his Wife, had constantly attended Morning-Service
+at the Church, wherein she was buried. He with Two or Three more, upon
+the Noise ran out, and parting the three Combatants, desired to know the
+Occasion of their Promiscuous Quarrel. _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ knowing
+_Rinaldo_, gave him an Account of the Matter, as also who the Stranger
+was. _Rinaldo_ was overjoy’d to find the brave _Britain_, whom he had
+received so great a Character of, from his Brother the Admiral, and
+accosting him very Courteously, ‘Sir, (said he) I am sorry our
+Countrymen shou’d be so Ungrateful as to Injure any Person, who has been
+so Serviceable to the State; and pray, Gentlemen, (added he, addressing
+the other two) be intreated to suspend your Animosities, and come Dine
+with me at my House, where I hope to prevail with you to end your
+Resentments.’ _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ hearing him Compliment the Stranger
+at their Expence, told him in a Rage, they wou’d chuse some other Place
+than his House, to end their Resentments in, and walk’d off.
+_Dangerfield_, on _Rinaldo’s_ farther Request, accompanied him to his
+House.
+
+_Maria_ had newly risen, and with her Night-gown only thrown loose about
+her, had look’d out of the Window, just as her Father and _Dangerfield_
+were approaching the Gate, at the same Instant she cast her Eyes upon
+_Dangerfield_, and he accidentally look’d up to the Window where she
+stood, their Surprize was mutual, but that of _Dangerfield_ the greater;
+he saw such an amazing Sight of Beauty, as made him doubt the Reality of
+the Object, or distrust the Perfection of his Sight; he saw his dear
+Lady, who had so captivated him the preceeding Day, he saw her in all
+the heightning Circumstances of her Charms, he saw her in all her native
+Beauties, free from the Incumbrance of Dress, her Hair as black as
+Ebony, hung flowing in careless Curls over her Shoulders, it hung link’d
+in amorous Twinings, as if in Love with its own Beauties; her Eyes not
+yet freed from the Dullness of the late Sleep, cast a languishing
+Pleasure in their Aspect, which heaviness of Sight added the greatest
+Beauties to those Suns, because under the Shade of such a Cloud, their
+Lustre cou’d only be view’d; the lambent Drowsiness that play’d upon her
+Face, seem’d like a thin Veil not to hide, but to heighten the Beauty
+which it cover’d; her Night-gown hanging loose, discover’d her charming
+Bosom, which cou’d bear no Name, but Transport, Wonder and Extasy, all
+which struck his Soul, as soon as the Object hit his Eye; her Breasts
+with an easy Heaving, show’d the Smoothness of her Soul and of her Skin;
+their Motions were so languishingly soft, that they cou’d not be said to
+rise and fall, but rather to swell up towards Love, the Heat of which
+seem’d to melt them down again; some scatter’d jetty Hairs, which hung
+confus’dly over her Breasts, made her Bosom show like _Venus_ caught in
+_Vulcan’s_ Net, but ’twas the Spectator, not she, was captivated. This
+_Dangerfield_ saw, and all this at once, and with Eyes that were adapted
+by a preparatory Potion; what must then his Condition be? He was
+stricken with such Amazement, that he was forced to Support himself, by
+leaning on _Rinaldo’s_ Arm, who started at his sudden Indisposition.
+‘I’m afraid, Sir, (said he) you have received some Wound in the Duel.’
+‘Oh! Sir, (said he) I am mortally wounded’; but recollecting himself
+after a little Pause, ‘now I am better.’ _Rinaldo_ wou’d have sent for a
+Surgeon to have it searched. ‘Your pardon, Sir, (said _Dangerfield_) my
+Indisposition proceeds from an inward Malady, not by a Sword, but like
+those made by _Achilles’s_ Spear, nothing can cure, but what gave the
+Wound.’ _Rinaldo_ guessing at the Distemper, but not the Cause of it,
+out of good Manners declined any further enquiry, but conducting him in,
+entertained him with all the Courtesy imaginable; but in half a Hour,
+a Messenger came from the Senate, requiring his immediate Attendance; he
+lying under an indispensable Necessity of making his personal
+Appearance, begg’d _Dangerfield’s_ Pardon, intreating him to stay, and
+command his House till his return, and conducting him to a fine Library,
+said he might there find Entertainment, if he were addicted to Study;
+adding withal, as a farther Engagement of his Patience, that he should
+meet the Admiral at the Senate, whom he wou’d bring home as an Addition
+to their Company at Dinner. _Dangerfield_ needed none of these Motives
+to stay, being detained by a secret Inclination to the Place; walking
+therefore into the Library, _Rinaldo_ went to the Senate. _Dangerfield_
+when alone, fell into deep Ruminating on his strange Condition, he knew
+himself in the House, with one of his dear Charmers, but durst not hope
+to see her, which added to his Torment; like _Tantalus_ remov’d the
+farther from Happiness, by being nearer to it, contemplated so far on
+the Beauties of that dear Creature, that he concluded, if her Wit were
+like that of his t’other Mistress, he wou’d endeavour to confine his
+Passion wholly to that Object.
+
+In the mean Time, _Maria_ was no less confounded, she knew herself in
+Love with a Stranger, whose Residence was uncertain, she knew her own
+Modesty in concealing it; and alas! she knew her Dumbness uncapable of
+ever revealing it, at least, it must never expect any Return; she had
+gather’d from her Sister’s Discourse, that she was her Rival; a Rival,
+who had the Precedency in Age, as the Advantage in Wit, and Intreague,
+which want of Speech render’d her uncapable of; these Reflections, as
+they drew her farther from the dear Object, brought her nearer Despair;
+her Sister was gone that Morning with her Unkle, the Admiral, about two
+Miles from _Venice_, to drink some Mineral Waters, and _Maria_ finding
+nothing to divert her, goes down to her Father’s Library, to ease her
+Melancholy by reading. She was in the same loose Habit in which she
+appeared at the Window, her Distraction of Thought not permitting her
+any Care in dressing herself; she enter’d whilst _Dangerfield’s_
+Thoughts were bent by a full Contemplation of her Idea, insomuch that
+his Surprize represented her as a Phantom only, created by the Strength
+of his Fancy; her depth of Thought had cast down her Eyes in a fix’d
+Posture so low, that she discover’d not _Dangerfield_, till she stood
+close where he sat, but then so sudden an Appearance of what she so
+lov’d, struck so violently on her Spirits, that she fell in a Swoon, and
+fell directly into _Dangerfield’s_ Arms; this soon wakened him from his
+Dream of Happiness, to a Reality of Bliss, he found his Phantom turn’d
+into the most charming Piece of Flesh and Blood that ever was, he found
+her, whom just now he despair’d of seeing; he found her with all her
+Beauties flowing loose in his Arms, the Greatness of the Pleasure rais’d
+by the two heightning Circumstances of Unexpectancy and Surprize, was
+too large for the Capacity of his Soul, he found himself beyond
+Expression happy, but could not digest the Surfeit; he had no sooner
+Leisure to consider on his Joy, but he must reflect on the Danger of her
+that caus’d it, which forced him to suspend his Happiness to administer
+some Relief to her expiring Senses: He had a Bottle of excellent Spirits
+in his Pocket, which holding to her Nose, soon recover’d her; she
+finding herself in the Arms of a Man, and in so loose a Dress, blush’d
+now more red, than she look’d lately pale; and disengaging herself in a
+Confusion, wou’d have flung from him; but he gently detaining her by a
+precarious Hold, threw himself on his Knees, and with the greatest
+Fervency of Passion cry’d out: ‘For Heavens sake, dearest Creature, be
+not offended at the accidental Blessing which Fortune, not Design, hath
+cast upon me; (She wou’d have rais’d him up,) No Madam, (continu’d he)
+never will I remove from this Posture, ’till you have pronounc’d my
+Pardon; I love you, Madam, to that Degree, that if you leave me in a
+distrust of your Anger, I cannot survive it; I beg, intreat, conjure you
+to speak, your Silence torments me worse than your Reproaches cou’d; am
+I so much disdain’d, that you will not afford me one Word?’ The
+lamentable Plight of the wretched Lady every one may guess, but no Body
+can comprehend; she saw the dearest of Mankind prostrate at her Feet,
+and imploring what she wou’d as readily grant as he desire, yet herself
+under a Necessity of denying his Prayers, and her own easy Inclinations.
+The Motions of her Soul, wanting the freedom of Utterance, were like to
+tear her Heart asunder by so narrow a Confinement, like the force of
+Fire pent up, working more impetuously; ’till at last he redoubling his
+Importunity, her Thoughts wanting Conveyance by the Lips, burst out at
+her Eyes in a Flood of Tears; then moving towards a Writing-Desk, he
+following her still on his Knees, amidst her Sighs and Groans she took
+Pen and Paper, writ two Lines, which she gave him folded up, then
+flinging from him, ran up to her Chamber: He strangely surpriz’d at this
+odd manner of Proceeding, opening the Paper, read the following Words:
+
+  _You can’t my Pardon, nor my Anger move.
+  For know, alas! I’m dumb, alas! I love._
+
+He was wonderfully Amaz’d reading these Words. ‘Dumb, (cried he out)
+naturally Dumb? O ye niggard Powers, why was such a wond’rous Piece of
+Art left imperfect?’ He had many other wild Reasonings upon the
+lamentable Subject, but falling from these to more calm Reflections, he
+examined her Note again, and finding by the last Words that she loved
+him, he might presently imagine, that if he found not some Means of
+declaring the Continuance of his Love, the innocent Lady might
+conjecture herself slighted, upon the Discovery of her Affection and
+Infirmity: Prompted, by which Thought, and animated by the Emotions of
+his Passion, he ventured to knock at her Door; she having by this Time
+dressed herself, ventured to let him in: _Dangerfield_ ran towards her,
+and catching her with an eager Embrace, gave her a thousand Kisses;
+‘Madam, (said he) you find that pardoning Offences only prepares more,
+by emboldning the Offender; but, I hope, Madam,’ shewing her the Note,
+‘this is a general Pardon for all Offences of this sort, by which I am
+so encouraged to Transgress, that I shall never cease Crimes of this
+Nature’; Kissing her again. His Happiness was interrupted by
+_Belvideera’s_ coming Home, who running up Stairs, called, ‘Sister,
+Sister, I have News to tell you’: Her Voice alarms _Maria_, who fearing
+the Jealousy of _Belvideera_, shou’d she find _Dangerfield_ in her
+Bed-Chamber, made Signs that he shou’d run into the Closet, which she
+had just lock’d as _Belvideera_ came in: ‘Oh, Sister! (said
+_Belvideera_) in a lucky Hour went I abroad this Morning.’ In a more
+lucky Hour stay’d I at home this Morning, thought _Maria_. ‘I have,
+(continued she,) been Instrumental in parting two Gentlemen fighting
+this Morning, and what is more, my Father had parted them before, when
+engag’d with the fine _English_ Gentleman we saw at the Ball yesterday;
+but the greatest News of all is, that this fine _English_ Gentleman is
+now in the House, and must Dine here to Day; but you must not appear,
+Sister, because ’twere a Shame to let Strangers know that you are Dumb.’
+_Maria_ perceived her Jealousy, pointed to her Limbs, intimating
+thereby, that it was as great a Shame for her to be seen by Strangers;
+but she made farther Signs, that since it was her Pleasure, she wou’d
+keep her Chamber all that Day, and not appear abroad. _Belvideera_ was
+extreamly glad of her Resolution, hoping that she shou’d enjoy
+_Dangerfield’s_ Conversation without any Interruption. The Consternation
+of the Spark in the Closet all this while was not little, he heard the
+Voice of the Charmer, that had so captivated him, he found that she was
+Sister to that Lady, whom he just now was making so many Protestations
+to, but he cou’d not imagine how she was Instrumental in parting the two
+Gentlemen, that shou’d have fought him; the Occasion was this:
+
+_Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, parting from _Rinaldo_ and _Dangerfield_, had
+walk’d towards the _Rialto_, and both exasperated that they had missed
+their intended Revenge against _Dangerfield_, turned their Fury upon
+each other, first raising their Anger by incensed Expostulations, then
+drawing their Swords, engaged in a desperate Combat, when a Voice very
+loud calling, (_Erizo_, hold) stopt their Fury to see whence it
+proceeded; when a Coach driving at full Flight stopt close by them, and
+_Francisco_ the _Venetian_ Admiral leaped out with his Sword drawn,
+saying, ‘Gentlemen, pray let me be an Instrument of Pacification: As for
+your part, _Erizo_, this Proceeding suits not well with the Business I
+am to move in Favour of you in the Senate to Day; the Post you sue for
+claims your Blood to be spilt against the common Foe, not in private
+Resentment, to the Destruction of a Citizen; and therefore I intreat you
+as my Friend, or I command you as your Officer, to put up.’ _Erizo_,
+unwilling to disoblige his Admiral, upon whose Favour his Advancement
+depended, told _Gonzago_, that he must find another time to talk with
+him. ‘No, no, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall not part ’till I
+have reconciled you, and therefore let me know your Cause of Quarrel.’
+_Erizo_ therefore related to him the whole Affair, and mentioning that
+_Dangerfield_ was gone Home to Dine with _Rinaldo_; ‘With _Rinaldo_ my
+Father?’ said _Belvideera_ from the Coach, overjoy’d with Hopes of
+seeing _Dangerfield_ at Home. ‘Yes, (reply’d _Gonzago_ surpriz’d) if
+_Rinaldo_ the Senator be your Father, Madam.’ ‘Yes, he is,’ reply’d
+_Belvideera_. _Gonzago_ then knew her to be the Lady he was enamour’d
+of, and for whom he wou’d have fought _Dangerfield_; and now cursed his
+ill Fate, that he had deny’d _Rinaldo’s_ Invitation, which lost him the
+Conversation of his Mistress, which his Rival wou’d be sure of. ‘Come,
+come, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall accompany me to see this
+Stranger at _Rinaldo’s_ House, I bear a great Esteem for him, and so it
+behoves every loyal _Venetian_, for whose Service he hath been so
+signal.’ _Erizo_, unwilling to deny the Admiral, and _Gonzago_ glad of
+an Opportunity of his Mistress’s Company, which he just now thought
+lost, consented to the Proposal, and mounting all into the Coach, the
+three Gentlemen were set down at the Senate, and the Lady drove Home as
+above-mentioned.
+
+_Rinaldo_ in the mean Time was not idle in the Senate, there being a
+Motion made for Election of a Captain to the _Rialto_ Galleon, made void
+by the Death of its former Commander in the late Fight, and which was
+the Post designed by the Admiral for _Erizo_. _Rinaldo_ catching an
+Opportunity of obliging _Dangerfield_, for whom he entertain’d a great
+Love and Respect, proposed him as a Candidate for the Command, urging
+his late brave Performance against the _Turks_, and how much it
+concerned the Interest of the State to encourage Foreigners. He being
+the Admiral’s Brother, and being so fervent in the Affair, had by an
+unanimous Consent his Commission sign’d just as his Brother came into
+the Senate, who fearing how Things were carried, comforted _Erizo_ by
+future Preferment; but _Erizo_, however he stifled his Resentment, was
+struck with Envy, that a Stranger, and his Enemy shou’d be preferred to
+him, and resolved Revenge on the first Opportunity. They all went home
+with _Rinaldo_, and arrived whilst _Belvideera_ was talking above Stairs
+with her Sister. _Rinaldo_, impatient to communicate his Success to
+_Dangerfield_, ran into the Study, where he left him; but missing him
+there, went into the Garden, and searching all about, returned to the
+Company, telling them he believ’d _Dangerfield_ had fallen asleep in
+some private Arbor in the Garden, where he cou’d not find him, or else
+impatient of his long stay, had departed; but he was sure, if he had
+gone, he wou’d soon return: However they went to Dinner, and
+_Belvideera_ came down, making an Apology for her Sister’s Absence,
+thro’ an Indisposition that had seized her. _Gonzago_ had his wished for
+Opportunity of entertaining his Mistress, whilst she always expecting
+some News of _Dangerfield_, sat very uneasie in his Company; whilst
+_Dangerfield_ in the Closet, was as impatient to see her. The short
+Discourse she had with her Sister, gave him assurance that his Love
+wou’d not be unacceptable. _Maria_ durst not open the Closet, afraid
+that her Sister shou’d come up every Minute, besides, ’twas impossible
+to convey him out of the Chamber undiscovered, untill ’twas dark, which
+made him Wonder what occasioned his long Confinement; and being tired
+with sitting, got up to the Window, and softly opening the Casement,
+looked out to take the Air; his Footman walking accidentally in the
+Court, and casting up his Eye that way, spy’d him, which confirm’d his
+Patience in attending for him at the Gate; at length it grew Dark, and
+_Maria_ knowing that her Sister was engag’d in a Match at Cards with her
+Father, _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, the Admiral being gone, she came softly
+to the Closet, and innocently took _Dangerfield_ by the Hand, to lead
+him out, he clapt the dear soft Hand to his Mouth, and kissing it
+eagerly, it fired his Blood, and the unhappy Opportunity adding to the
+Temptation, raised him to the highest Pitch of Passion; he found himself
+with the most beautiful Creature in the World, one who loved him, he
+knew they were alone in the Dark, in a Bed-chamber, he knew the Lady
+young and melting, he knew besides she cou’d not tell, and he was
+conscious of his Power in moving; all these wicked Thoughts concurring,
+establish’d him in the Opinion, that this was the critical Minute of his
+Happiness, resolving therefore not to lose it, he fell down on his
+Knees, devouring her tender Hand, sighing out his Passion, begging her
+to Crown it with her Love, making Ten thousand Vows and Protestations of
+his Secrecy and Constancy, urging all the Arguments that the Subtilty of
+the Devil or Man could suggest. She held out against all his Assaults
+above two Hours, and often endeavoured to Struggle from him, but durst
+make no great Disturbance, thro’ fear of Alarming the Company below, at
+last he redoubling his Passion with Sighs, Tears, and all the rest of
+Love’s Artillery, he at last gain’d the Fort, and the poor conquered
+Lady, all panting, soft, and trembling every Joynt, melted by his
+Embraces, he there fatally enjoy’d the greatest Extasy of Bliss,
+heightned by the Circumstances of Stealth, and Difficulty in obtaining.
+The ruin’d Lady now too late deplored the Loss of her Honour; but he
+endeavour’d to Comfort her by making Vows of Secrecy, and promising to
+salve her Reputation by a speedy Marriage, which he certainly intended,
+had not the unhappy _Crisis_ of his Fate been so near. The Company by
+this Time had gone off, and _Belvideera_ had retir’d to her Chamber,
+melancholy that she had missed her Hopes of seeing _Dangerfield_.
+_Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ going out of the Gate, saw _Dangerfield’s_
+Footman, whom they knew, since they saw him with his Master in the
+Morning. _Gonzago_ asked him why he waited there? ‘For my Master, Sir,’
+reply’d the Footman. ‘Your Master is not here sure,’ said _Gonzago_.
+‘Yes, but he is, Sir,’ said the Servant, ‘for I attended him hither this
+Morning with _Rinaldo_, and saw him in the Afternoon look out of a
+Window above Stairs.’ ‘Ha!’ said _Gonzago_, calling _Erizo_ aside, ‘by
+Heavens, he lies here to Night then, and perhaps with my Mistress;
+I perceiv’d she was not pressing for our Stay, but rather urging our
+Departure. _Erizo_, _Erizo_, this Block must be remov’d, he has stepped
+between you and a Command to Day, and perhaps may lye between me and my
+Mistress to Night.’ ‘By Hell (answered _Erizo_) thou hast raised a Fury
+in me, that will not be lulled asleep, but by a Potion of his Blood;
+let’s dispatch this Blockhead first’: And running at the Footman, with
+one Thrust killed him. _Dangerfield_ by this time had been let out, and
+hearing the Noise, ran to the Place; they presently assaulted him; he
+defended himself very bravely the space of some Minutes, having wounded
+_Gonzago_ in the Breast; when _Rinaldo_ hearing the Noise, came out; but
+too late for _Dangerfield’s_ Relief, and too soon for his own Fate; for
+_Gonzago_, exasperated by his Wound, ran treacherously behind
+_Dangerfield_, and thrust him quite thro’ the Body. He finding the
+mortal Wound, and wild with Rage, thrust desperately forward at _Erizo_,
+when at the instant _Rinaldo_ striking in between to part them, received
+_Dangerfield’s_ Sword in his Body, which pierced him quite thro’. He no
+sooner fell, than _Dangerfield_ perceived his fatal Error, and the other
+Two fled. _Dangerfield_ curs’d his Fate, and begg’d with all the Prayers
+and Earnestness of a dying Man, that _Rinaldo_ wou’d forgive him. ‘Oh!’
+said _Rinaldo_, ‘you have ill rewarded me for my Care in your Concerns
+in the Senate to Day.’ The Servants coming out, took up _Rinaldo_, and
+_Dangerfield_ leaning upon his Sword, they led him in. _Belvideera_
+first heard the Noise, and running down first met the horrid Spectacle,
+her dear Father breathing out his last, and her Lover, whom she had all
+that Day flattered her self with Hopes of seeing, she now beheld in
+Streams of his Blood; but what must poor _Maria’s_ Case be? besides the
+Grief for her Father’s Fate, she must view that dear Man, lately Happy
+in her Embraces, now folded in the Arms of Death, she finds herself
+bereft of a Parent, her Love, her Honour, and the Defender of it, all at
+once; and the greatest Torment is, that she must bear all this Anguish,
+and cannot Ease her Soul by expressing it. _Belvideera_ sat wiping the
+Blood from her Father’s Wound, whilst mournful _Maria_ sat by
+_Dangerfield_, administring all the Help she cou’d to his fainting
+Spirits; whilst he viewed her with greater Excess of Grief, than he had
+heretofore with Pleasure; being sensible what was the Force of her
+silent Grief, and the Wrong he had done her, which now he cou’d never
+Redress: He had accidentally dropt his Wig in the Engagement, and
+inclining his Head over the Couch where he lay, _Rinaldo_ casting his
+Eye upon him, perceiv’d the Mark of a bloody Dagger on his Neck, under
+his left Ear: ‘Sir, (said _Rinaldo_, raising himself up) I conjure you
+answer me directly, were you born with the Mark of that Dagger, or have
+you received it since by Accident.’ ‘I was certainly born with it,’
+answer’d he. ‘Just such a Mark had my Son _Cosmo_, who was lost in the
+_Adriatick_.’ ‘How! (reply’d _Dangerfield_, starting up with a wild
+Confusion) Lost! say’st thou in the _Adriatick_? Your Son lost in the
+_Adriatick_?’ ‘Yes, yes,’ said _Rinaldo_, ‘too surely lost in the
+_Adriatick_.’ ‘O ye impartial Powers (said _Dangerfield_), why did you
+not reveal this before? Or why not always conceal it? How happy had been
+the Discovery some few Hours ago, and how Tragical is it now? For know,’
+continued he, addressing himself to _Rinaldo_, ‘know that my suppos’d
+Father, who was a _Turky_ Merchant, upon his Death-bed call’d me to him,
+and told me ’twas time to undeceive me, I was not his Son, he found me
+in the _Adriatick_ Sea, ty’d to two Planks in his Voyage from _Smyrna_
+to _London_; having no Children, he educated me as his own, and finding
+me worth his Care, left me all his Inheritance with this dying Command,
+that I shou’d seek my Parents at _Venice_.’ _Belvideera_ hearkning all
+this while to the lamentable Story, then conjectured whence proceeded
+the natural Affection the whole Family bore him, and embracing him,
+cry’d out, ‘Oh my unhappy Brother.’ _Maria_ all the while had strong and
+wild Convulsions of Sorrow within her, ’till the working Force of her
+Anguish racking at once all the Passages of her Breast, by a violent
+Impulse, broke the Ligament that doubled in her Tongue, and she burst
+out with this Exclamation; ‘Oh! Incest, Incest.’ _Dangerfield_ eccho’d
+that Outcry with this, ‘O! Horror, Horror, I have enjoy’d my Sister, and
+murder’d my Father.’ _Maria_ running distracted about the Chamber, at
+last spy’d _Dangerfield’s_ Sword, by which he had supported himself into
+the House, and catching it up, reeking with the Blood of her Father,
+plung’d it into her Heart, and throwing herself into _Dangerfield’s_
+Arms, calls out, ‘O my Brother, O my Love,’ and expir’d. All the
+Neighbourhood was soon alarm’d by the Out-cries of the Family. I lodged
+within three Doors of _Rinaldo’s_ House, and running presently thither,
+saw a more bloody Tragedy in Reality, than what the most moving Scene
+ever presented; the Father and Daughter were both dead, the unfortunate
+Son was gasping out his last, and the surviving Sister most miserable,
+because she must survive such Misfortunes, cry’d to me; ‘O! behold the
+Fate of your wretched Countryman.’ I cou’d make no Answer, being struck
+dumb by the Horror of such woeful Objects; but _Dangerfield_ hearing her
+name his Country, turning towards me, with a languishing and weak Tone,
+‘Madam,’ said he, ‘I was your Countryman, and wou’d to Heavens I were so
+still; if you hear my Story mention’d, on your Return to _England_, pray
+give these strange Turns of my Fate not the Name of Crimes, but favour
+them with the Epithet of Misfortunes; my Name is not Dangerfield, but
+_Cla_--’ His Voice there fail’d him, and he presently dy’d; Death
+seeming more favourable than himself, concealing the fatal Author of so
+many Misfortunes, for I cou’d never since learn out his Name; but have
+done him the justice, I hope, to make him be pity’d for his Misfortunes,
+not hated for his Crimes. _Francisco_ being sent for, had _Gonzago_ and
+_Erizo_ apprehended, condemn’d, and executed. _Belvideera_ consign’d all
+her Father’s Estate over to her Uncle, reserving only a Competency to
+maintain her a Recluse all the rest of her Life.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Dumb Virgin.
+
+
+p. 429 _Dangerfield._ This name is not to be found in any one of Mrs.
+Behn’s plays, but as it does occur in Sedley’s _Bellamira; or, The
+Mistress_ (1687), one can only conclude that Aphra gave it to Sir
+Charles and altered her own character’s nomenclature. Mrs. Behn, it may
+be remembered, was more than once extraordinarily careless with regard
+to the names of the Dramatis Personæ in her comedies. A striking example
+occurs in _Sir Patient Fancy_, where the ‘precise clerk’ is called both
+Abel and Bartholomew. In _The Feign’d Curtezans_ Silvio and Sabina are
+persistently confused, and again, in _The Town Fop_ (Vol. III, p. 15 and
+p. 20), the name Dresswell is retained for Friendlove. Sedley’s
+_Bellamira_ is derived from Terence’s _Eunuchus_, and Dangerfield is
+Thraso; the Pyrgopolinices, Miles Gloriosus, of Plautus.
+
+
+Cross-Reference from Introduction: _The Dumb Virgin_
+
+Beginning: Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so
+romantically and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt
+with in happier mood by Mrs. Behn in _The Dutch Lover_. _Vide_ Note on
+the Source of that play, Vol. I, p. 218.
+
+  Vol. I, p. 218, beginning of “Source” section:
+
+  Mrs. Behn founded the plot of _The Dutch Lover_ upon the stories
+  of Eufemie and Theodore, Don Jame and Frederic, in a pseudo-Spanish
+  novel entitled ‘_The History of Don Fenise_, a new Romance written
+  in Spanish by Francisco de Las Coveras, And now Englished by a
+  Person of Honour, London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley,’ 8vo, 1651.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE WANDERING BEAUTY.
+
+
+I was not above twelve Years old, as near as I can remember, when a Lady
+of my Acquaintance, who was particularly concern’d in many of the
+Passages, very pleasantly entertain’d me with the Relation of the young
+Lady _Arabella’s_ Adventures, who was eldest Daughter to Sir _Francis
+Fairname_, a Gentleman of a noble Family, and of a very large Estate in
+the West of _England_, a true Church-Man, a great Loyalist, and a most
+discreetly-indulgent Parent; nor was his Lady any Way inferiour to him
+in every Circumstance of Virtue. They had only two Children more, and
+those were of the soft, unhappy Sex too; all very beautiful, especially
+_Arabella_, and all very much alike; piously educated, and courtly too,
+of naturally-virtuous Principles and Inclinations.
+
+’Twas about the sixteenth Year of her Age, that Sir _Robert Richland_,
+her Father’s great Friend and inseparable Companion, but superiour to
+him in Estate as well as Years, felt the resistless Beauty of this young
+Lady raging and burning in his aged Veins, which had like to have been
+as fatal to him, as a Consumption, or his Climacterical Year of Sixty
+Three, in which he dy’d, as I am told, though he was then hardly Sixty.
+However, the Winter Medlar would fain have been inoculated in the
+Summer’s Nacturine. His unseasonable Appetite grew so strong and
+inordinate, that he was oblig’d to discover it to Sir _Francis_; who,
+though he lov’d him very sincerely, had yet a Regard to his Daughter’s
+Youth, and Satisfaction in the Choice of a Husband; especially, when he
+consider’d the great Disproportion in their Age, which he rightly
+imagin’d would be very disagreeable to _Arabella’s_ Inclinations: This
+made him at first use all the most powerful and perswading Arguments in
+his Capacity, to convince Sir _Robert_ of the Inequality of such a
+Match, but all to no Purpose; for his Passion increasing each Day more
+violently, the more assiduously, and with the greater Vehemence, he
+press’d his Friend to use his Interest and Authority with his Lady and
+Daughter, to consent to his almost unnatural Proposition; offering this
+as the most weighty and prevailing Argument, (which undoubtedly it was,)
+That since he was a Batchelor, he would settle his whole Estate upon
+her, if she surviv’d him, on the Day of Marriage, not desiring one Penny
+as a Portion with her. This Discourse wrought so powerfully with her
+Mother, that she promis’d the old Lover all the Assistance he could hope
+or expect from her: In order to which, the next Day she acquainted her
+fair Daughter with the Golden Advantage she was like to have, if she
+would but consent _to lye by the Parchment that convey’d them to her_.
+The dear, fair Creature, was so surpriz’d at this Overture made by her
+Mother, that her Roses turn’d all into Lillies, and she had like to have
+swoon’d away; but having a greater Command of her Passions than usually
+our Sex have, and chiefly Persons of her Age, she, after some little
+Disorder, which by no Means she could dissemble, she made as dutiful a
+Return to her Mother’s Proposition, as her Aversion to it would permit;
+and, for that Time, got Liberty to retreat, and lament in private the
+Misfortune which she partly fore-saw was impending. But her Grief (alas)
+was no Cure of her Malady; for the next Day she was again doubly
+attack’d by her Father and Mother, with all the Reasons that Interest
+and Duty could urge, which she endeavour’d to obviate by all the
+Arguments that Nature and Inclination could offer; but she found them
+all in vain, since they continu’d their ungrateful Solicitations for
+several Days together, at the End of which, they both absolutely
+commanded her to prepare her self for her Nuptials with Sir _Robert_; so
+that finding her self under a Necessity of complying, or at least of
+seeming so, she made ’em hope, that her Duty had overcome her Aversion;
+upon which she had a whole Week’s Liberty to walk where she would,
+unattended, or with what Company she pleas’d, and to make Visits to whom
+she had a Mind, either of her Relations or Acquaintance thereabouts;
+tho’ for three or four Days before, she was strictly confin’d to her
+Chamber.
+
+After Dinner, on the third Day of her Enlargement, being Summer Time,
+she propos’d to her Mother that she would take a Walk to a Cousin of
+hers, who liv’d about four Miles thence, to intreat her to be one of her
+Bride-Maids, being then in a careless plain Dress, and having before
+discours’d very pleasantly and freely of her Wedding-Day, of what
+Friends she would have invited to that Solemnity, and what Hospitality
+Sir _Robert_ should keep when she was marry’d to him: All which was
+highly agreeable to her Parents, who then could not forbear thanking and
+kissing her for it, which she return’d to ’em both with a Shower of
+Tears. This did not a little surprize ’em at first, but asking her what
+could cause such Signs of Sorrow, after so chearful a Discourse on the
+late Subject? She answer’d, ‘That the Thoughts of her going now suddenly
+to live from so dear and tender a Father and Mother, were the sole
+Occasion of such Expressions of Grief.’ This affectionate Reply did
+amply satisfy their Doubts; and she presently took Leave of ’em, after
+having desir’d that they would not be uneasy if she should not return
+’till a little before ’twas dark, or if her Cousin should oblige her to
+stay all Night with her; which they took for a discreet Caution in her,
+considering that young Maidens love dearly to talk of Marriage Affairs,
+especially when so near at Hand: And thus easily parted with her, when
+they had walk’d with her about a Mile, over a Field or two of their own.
+
+Never before that Time was the dear Creature glad that her Father and
+Mother had left her, unless when they had press’d her to a Marriage with
+the old Knight. They were therefore no sooner got out of Sight, e’re she
+took another Path, that led cross the Country, which she persu’d ’till
+past eight at Night, having walk’d ten Miles since two a Clock, when Sir
+_Francis_ and her Mother left her: She was just now got to a little
+Cottage, the poor, but cleanly Habitation of a Husbandman and his Wife,
+who had one only Child, a Daughter, about the Lady _Arabella’s_ Age and
+Stature. ’Twas happy for her she got thither before they were a Bed; for
+her soft and beautiful Limbs began now to be tir’d, and her tender Feet
+to be gall’d. To the good Woman of the House she applies her self,
+desiring Entertainment for that Night, offering her any reasonable
+Satisfaction. The good Wife, at first Sight of her, had Compassion of
+her, and immediately bid her walk in, telling her, that she might lye
+with her Daughter, if she pleas’d, who was very cleanly, tho’ not very
+vine. The good Man of the House came in soon after, was very well
+pleas’d with his new Guest; so to Supper they went very seasonably; for
+the poor young Lady, who was e’en ready to faint with Thirst, and not
+overcharg’d with what she had eaten the Day before. After Supper they
+ask’d her whence she came, and how she durst venture to travel alone,
+and a Foot? To which she reply’d, That she came from a Relation who
+liv’d at _Exeter_, with whom she had stay’d ’till she found she was
+burthensome: That she was of _Welsh_ Parents, and of a good Family; but
+her Father dying, left a cruel Mother-in-Law, with whom she could by no
+Means continue, especially since she would have forc’d her to marry an
+old Man, whom it was impossible she should love, tho’ he was very rich:
+That she was now going to seek her Fortune in _London_, where she hop’d,
+at least, to get her a good Service. They all seem’d to pity her very
+heartily; and, in a little Time after, they went to their two several
+Apartments, in one of which _Arabella_ and the Damsel of the House went
+to Bed, where the young Lady slept soundly, notwithstanding the Hardness
+of her Lodging. In the Morning, about Four, according to her laudable
+Custom, the young hardy Maiden got up to her daily Employment; which
+waken’d _Arabella_, who presently bethought her self of an Expedient for
+her more secure and easy Escape from her Parents Pursuit and Knowledge,
+proposing to her Bedfellow an Exchange of their Wearing-Apparel. The
+Heiress and Hope of that little Family was extreamly fond of the
+Proposal, and ran immediately to acquaint her Mother with it, who was so
+well pleas’d, that she could hardly believe it, when the young Lady
+confirm’d it, and especially, when she understood the Exchange was to be
+made on even Hands. ‘If you be in earnest, Forsooth, (said the Mother)
+you shall e’en have her Sunday-Cloaths.’ ‘Agreed (return’d _Arabella_)
+but we must change Shifts too; I have now a Couple about me, new and
+clean, I do assure you: For my Hoods and Head-dress you shall give me
+two Pinners, and her best Straw-Hat; and for my Shoes, which I have not
+worn above a Week, I will have her Holliday Shoes.’ ‘A Match, indeed,
+young Mistress,’ cry’d the good Wife. So without more Ceremony, the
+young unhappy Lady was attir’d in her Bedfellow’s Country Weeds, by Help
+of the Mother and Daughter. Then, after she had taken her Leave of the
+good old Man too, she put a broad round Shilling into his Wife’s Hand,
+as a Reward for her Supper and Lodging, which she would fain have
+return’d, but t’other would not receive it. ‘Nay, then, by the Mackins,
+(said her Hostess) you shall take a Breakfast e’re you go, and a Dinner
+along with you, for Fear you should be sick by the Way.’ _Arabella_
+stay’d to eat a Mess of warm Milk, and took some of their Yesterday’s
+Provision with her in a little course Linnen Bag. Then asking for the
+direct Road to _London_, and begging a few green Wall-nuts, she took her
+last Farewel of them.
+
+Near Twelve at Noon she came to a pleasant Meadow, through which there
+ran a little Rivulet of clear Water, about nine miles from her last
+Lodging, but quite out of the Way to _London_. Here she sate down, and
+after drinking some of the Water out of the Hollow of her Hand, she
+open’d her Bag, and made as good a Meal as the Courseness of the Fare,
+and the Niceness of her Appetite would permit: After which, she bruis’d
+the outward green Shells of a Wall-nut or two, and smear’d her lovely
+Face, Hands, and Part of her Arms, with the Juice; then looking into the
+little purling Stream, that seem’d to murmur at the Injury she did to so
+much Beauty, she sigh’d and wept, to think to what base Extremities she
+was now likely to be reduc’d! That she should be forc’d to stain that
+Skin which Heaven had made so pure and white! ‘But ah! (cry’d she to her
+self) if my Disobedience to my Parents had not stain’d my Conscience
+worse, this needed not to have been done.’ Here she wept abundantly
+again; then, drying her Eyes, she wash’d her Feet to refresh ’em, and
+thence continu’d her Journey for ten Miles more, which she compass’d by
+seven a Clock; when she came to a Village, where she got Entertainment
+for that Night, paying for it, and the next Morning, before Six, as soon
+as she had fill’d her little Bag with what good Chear the Place
+afforded, she wander’d on ’till Twelve again, still crossing the
+Country, and taking her Course to the Northern Parts of _England_, which
+doubtless was the Reason her Father and his Servants miss’d of her in
+their Pursuit; for he imagin’d that for certain she had taken her
+nearest Way to _London_. After she had refresh’d her self for an Hour’s
+Time by the Side of a Wood, she arose and wander’d again near twelve
+Miles by eight a Clock, and lodg’d at a good substantial Farmer’s.
+
+Thus she continu’d her Errantry for above a Fortnight, having no more
+Money than just thirty Shillings, half of which brought her to Sir
+_Christian Kindly’s_ House in _Lancashire_. ’Twas near five a Clock in
+the Afternoon when she reach’d that happy Port, when, coming to the Hall
+Door, she enquir’d for the Lady of the House, who happily was just
+coming into the Hall with a little Miss in her Arms, of about four Years
+old, very much troubled with weak and sore Eyes: The fair Wanderer,
+addressing her self to the Lady with all the Humility and Modesty
+imaginable, begg’d to know if her Ladyship had any Place in her Family
+vacant, in which she might do her Service? To which the Lady return’d,
+(by Way of Question) Alas! poor Creature! what canst thou do? Any thing,
+may it please your Ladyship, (reply’d the disguis’d Beauty) any thing
+within my Strength and my Knowledge, I mean, Madam. Thou say’st well,
+(said the Lady) and I’m sorry I have not any vacant for thee. I beseech
+your Ladyship then (said _Arabella_) let me lodge in your Barn to-Night;
+for I am told it is a great Way hence to any Town, and I have but little
+Money. In my Barn, poor Girl! (cry’d the Lady, looking very earnestly on
+her) ay, God forbid else, unless we can find a better Lodging for thee.
+Art thou hungry or thirsty? Yes, Madam (reply’d the wandering Fair One)
+I could both eat and drink, if it please your Ladyship. The Lady
+commanded Victuals and Drink to be brought, and could not forbear
+staying in the Hall ’till she had done; when she ask’d her several
+Questions, as of what Country she was? To which she answer’d truly, of
+_Somersetshire_. What her Parents were, and if living? To which she
+return’d, They were good, honest, and religious People, and she hop’d
+they were alive, and in as good Health as when she left ’em. After the
+Lady had done catechising her, _Arabella_, looking on the little Child
+in her Ladyship’s Arms, said, Pardon me, Madam, I beseech you, if I am
+too bold in asking your Ladyship how that pretty Creature’s Eyes came to
+be so bad? By an extream Cold which she took, (reply’d the Lady.) I had
+not presum’d (return’d t’other) to have ask’d your Ladyship this
+Question, were I not assur’d that I have an infallible Cure for the
+Infirmity; and if, Madam, you will be pleas’d to let me apply it, I will
+tell your Ladyship the Remedy in private. The Lady was much surpriz’d to
+hear a young Creature, so meanly habited, talk so genteelly; and after
+surveying her very strictly, said the Lady, Have you ever experienc’d it
+before? Yes, Madam (reply’d the fair Physician) and never without happy
+Success: I dare engage, Madam, (added she) that I will make ’em as well
+as my own, by God’s Blessing, or else I will be content to lose mine,
+which Heaven forbid. Amen, (cry’d the good Lady) for they are very fine
+ones, on my Word.--Stay, Child, I will desire Sir _Christian_ to hear it
+with me; and if he approves it, you shall about it; and if it take good
+Effect, we will endeavour to requite the Care and Pains it shall cost
+you. Saying thus, she immediately left her, and return’d very speedily
+with Sir _Christian_, who having discours’d _Arabella_ for some time,
+with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, took her into the Parlour with his
+Lady, where she communicated her Secret to ’em both; which they found so
+innocent and reasonable, that they desir’d her to prepare it as soon as
+possible, and to make her Application of it with all convenient Speed;
+which she could not do ’till the next Morning. In the mean Time she was
+order’d a Lodging with the House-Maid, who reported to her Lady, That
+she found her a very sweet and cleanly Bed-fellow; (adding) That she
+never saw nor felt so white, so smooth, and soft a Skin. _Arabella_
+continu’d her Remedy with such good Success, that in a Fortnight’s Time
+little Miss’s Eyes were as lively and strong as ever. This so endear’d
+her to the Knight and his Lady, that they created a new Office in their
+Family, purposely for her, which was, Attendant on their eldest Daughter
+_Eleanora_, a Lady much about her Years and Stature; who was so charm’d
+with her Conversation, that she could not stir Abroad, nor eat, nor
+sleep, without _Peregrina Goodhouse_ (for those were the Names she
+borrow’d:) Nor was her Modesty, Humility, and Sweetness of Temper, less
+engaging to her Fellow-Servants, who all strove which should best
+express their Love to her. On Festival-Days, and for the Entertainment
+of Strangers, she would lend her helping Hand to the Cook, and make the
+Sauce for every Dish, though her own Province was only to attend the
+young Lady, and prepare the Quidlings, and other Sweet-Meats, for the
+Reception of Sir _Christian’s_ Friends; all which she did to Admiration.
+In this State of easy Servitude she liv’d there for near three Years,
+very well contented at all Times, but when she bethought her self of her
+Father, Mother, and Sisters, courted by all the principal Men-Servants,
+whom she refus’d in so obliging a Manner, and with such sweet, obliging
+Words, that they could not think themselves injur’d, though they found
+their Addresses were in vain. Mr. _Prayfast_, the Chaplain himself,
+could not hold out against her Charms. For her Skin had long since
+recover’d its native Whiteness; nor did she need Ornaments of Cloaths to
+set her Beauty off, if any Thing could adorn her, since she was dress’d
+altogether as costly, though not so richly (perhaps) as _Eleanora_.
+_Prayfast_ therefore found that the Spirit was too weak for the Flesh,
+and gave her very broad Signs of his Kindness in Sonnets, Anagrams, and
+Acrosticks, which she receiv’d very obligingly of him, taking a more
+convenient Time to laugh at ’em with her young Lady.
+
+Her kind Reception of them encourag’d him to that Degree, that within a
+few Days after, supposing himself secure on her Side, he apply’d himself
+to the good old Knight, his Patron, for his Consent to a Marriage with
+her, who very readily comply’d with his Demands, esteeming it a very
+advantagious Match for _Peregrina_, and withal told him, That he would
+give him three hundred Pounds with her, besides the first Benefit that
+should fall in his Gift. But (said he) as I doubt not that you are
+sufficiently acquainted with her Virtues and other excellent
+Qualifications, ’tis necessary that you should know the worst that I can
+tell you of her, which is, that she came to us a meer Stranger, in a
+very mean, tho’ cleanly Habit; and therefore, as she confesseth, we may
+conclude, of very humble, yet honest Parentage. A! (possibly) her Father
+might have been, or is, some Husbandman, or somewhat inferiour to that;
+for we took her up at the Door, begging one Night’s Entertainment in the
+Barn. How, Sir! (cry’d _Prayfast_, starting) have you no better
+Knowledge of her Birth, than what you are pleas’d to discover now? No
+better, nor more (reply’d the Knight.) Alas! Sir, then (return’d the
+proud canonical Sort of a Farmer) she is no Wife for me; I shall
+dishonour my Family by marrying so basely. Were you never told any Thing
+of this before? (ask’d the Knight.) You know, Sir, (answer’d the Prelate
+that would be) that I have not had the Honour to officiate, as your
+Chaplain, much more than half a Year; in which Time, ’tis true, I have
+heard that she was receiv’d as a Stranger; but that she came in so low a
+Capacity I never learn’d ’till now. I find then, Parson, (said the
+Knight) that you do not like the Author of your Happiness, at least, who
+might be so, because she comes to you in such an humble Manner; I tell
+you the _Jews_ are miserable for the same Reason. She cannot be such
+perfectly to me (return’d t’other) without the Advantage of good Birth.
+With that I’m sure she would not, return’d his Patron, and left him to
+go to _Peregrina_, whom he happily found alone. Child, (said he to her)
+have you any Obligation to Mr. _Prayfast_? As how, Sir? She ask’d. Do
+you love him? Have you made him any Promise of Marriage? Or has he any
+Way engag’d himself to you? Neither, Sir, (she answer’d.) ’Tis true,
+I love him as my Fellow-Servant, no otherwise. He has indeed been
+somewhat lavish of his Wit and Rhimes to me, which serv’d well enough to
+divert my young Lady and me. But of all Mankind, perhaps, he should be
+the last I would choose for a Husband. I thought (said the good-humour’d
+old Knight) that he had already obtain’d a Promise from you, since he
+came but just now to ask my Consent, which I freely gave him at first,
+upon that Thought; but he is doubtful of your Birth, and fears it may
+dishonour his Family, if he should marry you. On my Word, Sir, (return’d
+_Peregrina_, blushing with Disdain, no doubt) our Families are by no
+Means equal. What thy Family is, I know not; (said Sir _Christian_) but
+I am sure thou art infinitely superiour to him in all the natural
+Embelishments both of Body and Mind. Be just to thy self, and be not
+hasty to wed: Thou hast more Merit than Wealth alone can purchase. O!
+dear Sir, (she return’d) you ruin me with Obligations never to be
+re-paid, but in Acknowledgment, and that imperfectly too. Here they were
+interrupted by the young Lady, to whom she repeated the Conference
+betwixt Sir _Christian_ and _Prayfast_, as soon as ever Sir _Christian_
+left the Room.
+
+About a Week after, Sir _Lucius Lovewell_, (a young Gentleman, of a good
+Presence, Wit, and Learning enough, whose Father, dying near a
+Twelve-month before, had left him upwards of 3000_l._ a Year, which,
+too, was an excellent Accomplishment, tho’ not the best; for he was
+admirably good-humour’d) came to visit Sir _Christian Kindly_; and, as
+some of the Family imagin’d, ’twas with Design to make his Addresses to
+the young Lady, Sir _Christian’s_ Daughter. Whatever his Thoughts were,
+his Treatment, there, was very generous and kind. He saw the Lady, and
+lik’d her very well; nay, doubtless, would have admitted a Passion for
+her, had not his Destiny at the same Time shewn him _Peregrina_. She was
+very beautiful, and he as sensible; and ’tis not to be doubted, but that
+he immediately took Fire. However, his Application and Courtship, free
+and unaffected, were chiefly directed to Sir _Christian’s_ Daughter:
+Some little Respects he paid to _Peregrina_, who could not choose but
+look on him as a very fine, good-humour’d, and well-accomplish’d
+Gentleman. When the Hour came that he thought fit to retreat, Sir
+_Christian_ ask’d him, When he would make ’em happy again in his
+Conversation? To which he return’d, That since he was not above seven or
+eight Miles from him, and that there were Charms so attractive at Sir
+_Christian’s_, he should take the Liberty to visit him sooner and
+oftener than he either expected or desir’d. T’other reply’d, That was
+impossible; and so, without much more Ceremony, he took his Leave of
+that delightful Company for two or three Days; at the End of which he
+return’d, with Thoughts much different from those at his first Coming
+thither, being strongly agitated by his Passion for _Peregrina_. He took
+and made all the Opportunities and Occasions that Chance and his own
+Fancy could offer and present to talk to her, both before, at, and after
+Dinner; and his Eyes were so constantly fix’d on her, that he seem’d to
+observe nothing else; which was so visible to Sir _Christian_, his Lady,
+and Daughter, that they were convinc’d of their Error, in believing,
+that he came to make his Court to the young Lady. This late Discovery of
+the young Knight’s Inclinations, was no Way unpleasant to Sir
+_Christian_ and his Lady; and to the young Lady it was most agreeable
+and obliging, since her Heart was already pre-engag’d elsewhere; and
+since she did equally desire the good fortune of her beautiful Attendant
+with her own.
+
+The Table was no sooner clear’d, and a loyal Health or two gone round,
+e’re Sir _Christian_ ask’d his young amorous Guest to take a Walk with
+him in the Gardens: To which Sir _Lucius_ readily consented, designing
+to disclose that to him for a Secret, which was but too apparent to all
+that were present at Table: When therefore he thought he had
+sufficiently admir’d and commended the Neatness of the Walks and Beauty
+of the Flowers, he began, to this Effect:
+
+Possibly, Sir _Christian_, I shall surprize you with the Discourse I’m
+going to make you; but ’tis certain no Man can avoid the Necessity of
+the Fate which he lies under; at least I have now found it so.--I came
+at first, Sir, with the Hopes of prevailing on you to honour and make me
+happy in a Marriage with Madam _Eleanora_ your Daughter; but at the same
+Instant I was seiz’d with so irresistable a Passion for the charming
+_Peregrina_, that I find no Empire, Fame, nor Wit, can make me perfectly
+bless’d here below, without the Enjoyment of that beautiful Creature. Do
+not mistake me, Sir, (I beseech you, continu’d he) I mean an _honourable
+Enjoyment_.--I will make her my Wife, Sir, if you will be generously
+pleas’d to use your Interest with her on my Part.
+
+To which the good old Knight reply’d, What you think (Sir) you have now
+imparted as a Secret, has been the general Observation of all my Family,
+e’re since you gave us the Happiness of your Company to Day: Your
+Passion is too great to be disguis’d; and I am extremely pleas’d, that
+you can think any Thing in my House worthy the Honour you intend
+_Peregrina_. Indeed, had you made any particular and publick Address to
+my Daughter, I should have believ’d it want of Merit in her, or in us,
+her Parents, that you should, after that, quit your Pretensions to her,
+without any willing or known Offence committed on our Side. I therefore
+(Sir) approve your Choice, and promise you my utmost Assistance afar.
+She is really virtuous in all the Latitude of Virtue; her Beauty is too
+visible to be disputed ev’n by Envy it self: As for her Birth, she best
+can inform you of it; I must only let you know, that, as her Name
+imports, she was utterly a Stranger, and entertain’d by us in pure
+Charity. But the Antiquity and Honour of your Family can receive no
+Diminution by a Match with a beautiful and virtuous Creature, for whom,
+you say, and I believe, you have so true a Passion. I have now told you
+the worst (Sir) that I know of her; but your Wealth and Love may make
+you both eternally happy on Earth. And so they shall, _by her dear
+self_, (return’d the amorous Knight) if both of ’em may recommend me to
+her, with your Perswasions added, which still I beg. Say, rather you
+command; and with those three hundred Pounds which I promis’d her, if
+she marry’d with my Consent to Mr. _Prayfast_.
+
+To this, the other smiling, reply’d, Her Person and Love is all I court
+or expect, Sir: But since you have thought her worthy of so great an
+Expression of your Favour and Kindness, I will receive it with all
+Humility as is from a Father, which I shall ever esteem you.--But see,
+Sir, (cry’d he in an Extasy) how she comes, led by Madam _Eleanora_,
+your Daughter. The young Lady coming to him, began thus: I know (Sir)
+’tis my Father and Mother’s Desire and Ambition to shew you the
+heartiest Welcome in their Power, which can by no Means be made appear
+so particularly and undisputably, as by presenting you with what you
+like best in the Family: In Assurance therefore that I shall merit their
+Favour by this Act, I have brought your dear _Peregrina_ to you, not
+without Advice, and some Instructions of mine, that may concern her
+Happiness with you, if discreetly observ’d and persu’d by her. In short,
+(Sir) I have told her, that a Gentleman of so good a Figure, such
+excellent Parts, and generous Education, of so ancient and honourable a
+Family, together with so plentiful an Estate as you at present possess,
+is capable of bringing Happiness to any, the fairest Lady in this
+Country at least. O Madam! (return’d Sir _Lucius_) your Obligation is so
+great, that I want Sense to receive it as I ought; much more Words to
+return you any proportionable Acknowledgment of it. But give me Leave to
+say thus much, Madam; that my Thoughts of making my Court to your
+Ladiship, first invited me to give Sir _Christian_, your Father, the
+Trouble of a Visit, since the Death of mine. However, the over-ruling
+Powers have thought to divert my Purpose, and the offering of my Heart,
+which can never rest, but with this dear charming Creature.--Your
+Merits, Madam--are sufficient for the Gentleman on whom I entirely fix’d
+my Affections, before you did me the Honour and your self the Trouble of
+your first Visit (interrupted Sir _Christian’s_ Daughter.) And now, Sir,
+(added she to her Father) if you please, let us leave ’em to make an End
+of this Business between themselves. No, Madam, (cry’d Sir _Lucius_)
+your Father has promis’d me to make Use of his Interest with her for my
+Sake. This I now expect, Sir. Then (said the old Knight) thou dear
+beautiful and virtuous Stranger! if I have any Power to perswade thee,
+take my Advice, and this honourable Gentleman to thy loving Husband; I’m
+sure he’ll prove so to thee. If I could command thee I would. Ah Sir!
+(said she, kneeling, with Tears falling from her charming Eyes) I know
+none living that has greater Right and Power.--But (alas Sir!) this
+honourable Person knows not the Meanness of my Birth, at least, he
+cannot think it any Way proportionable or suitable to his. O thou dear
+Creature, (cry’d her Lover, setting one Knee to the Ground, and taking
+her up) Sir _Christian_ has already discours’d all thy Circumstances to
+me: Rise and bless me with thy Consent. I must ask my Lady’s, Sir, (she
+reply’d.) See, here my Mother comes (said the young Lady) and entreated
+her good Word for Sir _Lucius_. The good ancient Lady began then to use
+all the Arguments to incline her to yield to her Happiness; and, in
+fine, she was prevail’d on to say, I do consent, and will endeavour to
+deserve the honourable Title of your dutiful Wife, Sir. ’Twas with no
+common Joy and Transport that he receiv’d her Hand, and kiss’d those
+dear Lips that gave him an Assurance of his Happiness; which he resolv’d
+should begin about a Month or two afterwards; in which Time he might
+send Orders to _London_ for the making their Wedding Cloaths. Into the
+House then they all went, Sir _Lucius_ leading _Peregrina_, and the
+first they met of the Family was _Prayfast_, who was not a little
+surpriz’d nor discompos’d at that Sight; and more especially when Sir
+_Christian_ told him, That tho’ he did not think that beautiful sweet
+Stranger worthy the Title of his Wife, yet now he should be oblig’d to
+join her to that honourable Person. The Slave bow’d, and look’d very
+pale.
+
+All Things were at last got ready for the Consummation of their Bliss,
+and _Prayfast_ did their Business effectually, tho’ much against his
+Will; however he receiv’d the Reward of twenty Broad Pieces. The Wedding
+was kept for a Week at Sir _Christian’s_ House; after which they
+adjourn’d to the Bridegroom’s, where it lasted as long as Sir
+_Christian_, his Lady, Daughter, and the rest of that Family would stay.
+As they were leaving him, Sir _Lucius_ dispos’d of two hundred Pounds
+amongst Sir _Christian’s_ Servants, and the rest of the three hundred he
+distributed among the Poor of both Parishes.
+
+When they were gone, the affectionate tender Bridegroom could by no
+Means be perswaded by any Gentlemen, his Neighbours, to hunt with ’em,
+or to take any Divertisement, tho’ but for half a Day; esteeming it the
+highest Unkindness imaginable to leave his Lady: Not that she could be
+alone neither in his Absence; for she never wanted the Visits of all the
+Ladies round about, and those of the best Quality; who were equally
+charm’d with her Sweetness of Temper, as the Men were with her outward
+Beauties. But in a Month’s time, or thereabout, observing that he was
+continually solicited and courted to some Sport or Pastime with those
+Gentlemen of his Neighbourhood, she was forc’d to do her self the
+Violence to beg of him that he would divert himself with ’em, as before
+their Marriage he us’d: And she had so good Success, that he did allow
+himself two Days in the Week to hunt: In one of which, coming Home about
+five a Clock, and not finding his Lady below Stairs, he went directly up
+to her Chamber, where he saw her leaning her Head on her Hand, and her
+Handkerchief all bath’d in Tears. At this Sight he was strangely amaz’d
+and concern’d. Madam, (cry’d he in an unusual Tone) what means such
+Postures as these? Tell me! For I must know the Occasion. Surpriz’d, and
+trembling at this his unwonted Manner of saluting her, she started up,
+and then, falling on her Knees, she wept out, O thou dear Author and
+Lord of all my Joys on Earth! Look not, I beseech you, so wildly, nor
+speak terribly to me! Thou Center of all my Happiness below,
+(return’d he) rise, and make me acquainted with the dreadful Occasion of
+this afflicting and tormenting Sight! All you shall know, (she reply’d)
+dearest of human Blessings! But sit, and change your Looks; then I can
+speak. Speak then, my Life, (said he) but tell me all; all I must know.
+Is there a Thought about my Soul that you shall not partake? I’m sure
+there is not; (he reply’d) say on then. You know, Sir, (she return’d)
+that I have left my Parents now three Years, or thereabouts, and know
+not whether they are living or dead: I was reflecting, therefore, on the
+Troubles which my undutiful and long Absence may have caus’d them; for
+poor and mean as they may be, they well instructed me in all good
+Things; and I would once more, by your dear Permission, see them, and
+beg their Pardon for my Fault; for they are my Parents still, if living,
+Sir, though (unhappily) not worth your Regard. How! (cry’d he) can that
+Pair who gave my Dearest Birth, want my Regard, or ought I can do for
+them? No! thou shalt see them, and so will I: But tell me, _Peregrina_,
+is this the only Cause of your Discomposure? So may I still be bless’d
+in your dear Love, (she reply’d) as this is Truth, and all the Cause.
+When shall we see them, then? (he ask’d). We see them, (cry’d she) O!
+your Goodness descends too much; and you confound me with your unmerited
+and unexpected Kindness. ’Tis I alone that have offended, and I alone am
+fit to see them. That must not be; (return’d her affectionate Husband)
+no, we’ll both go together; and if they want, either provide for them
+there, or take them hither with us. Your Education shews their
+Principles, and ’tis no Shame to own virtuous Relations. Come, dry thy
+dear lamenting Eyes; the Beginning of the next Week we’ll set forwards.
+Was ever Disobedience so rewarded with such a Husband? (said she) those
+Tears have wash’d that childish Guilt away; and there is no Reward above
+thy Virtue.
+
+In a few Days, Monday began the Date of their Journey to the _West_ of
+_England_; and in five or six Days more, by the Help of a Coach and Six,
+they got to _Cornwall_; where, in a little Town, of little
+Accommodation, they were oblig’d to take up their Lodgings the first
+Night. In the Morning (said his Lady to him) My Dear, about a Mile and a
+half hence lives one Sir _Francis Fairname_ and his Lady, if yet they be
+living, who have a very fine House, and worth your seeing; I beg of you
+therefore, that you will be so kind to your self as to walk thither, and
+dine with the old Gentleman; for that you must, if you see him; whilst I
+stay here, and send to my Father and Mother, if to be found, and prepare
+them to receive you at your Return. I must not have no Denial; (added
+she) for if you refuse this Favour, all my Designs are lost.--Make
+Haste, my Life; ’tis now eleven a Clock; In your Absence I’ll dress, to
+try if Change of Cloaths can hide me from them. This was so small a
+Request, that he did not stay to reply to’t, but presently left her, and
+got thither in less than half an Hour, attended only by one Footman. He
+was very kindly and respectfully receiv’d by the old Gentleman, who had
+certainly been a very beautiful Person in his Youth; and Sir _Lucius_,
+fixing his Eyes upon his Face, could hardly remove ’em, being very
+pleasantly and surprisingly entertain’d with some Lines that he observ’d
+in it. But immediately recollecting himself, he told him, that having
+heard how fine a Seat that was, his Curiosity led him to beg the Favour
+that he might see it. The worthy old Knight return’d, that his House and
+all the Accommodations in it were at his Service: So inviting him in, he
+satisfy’d his pretended Curiosity; and after he had shewn all that was
+worthy the Sight of a Stranger, in the House, he led him into his
+Gardens, which furnish’d Sir _Lucius_ with new Matter of Admiration;
+whence the old Knight brought him into the Parlour, telling him, that
+’twas his Custom to suffer no Stranger to return, till he had either
+din’d or supp’d with him, according as the Hour of the Day or Night
+presented.
+
+’Twas here the affectionate Husband was strangely surpriz’d at the Sight
+of a Picture, which so nearly counterfeited the Beauties of his
+dear-lov’d Lady, that he stood like an Image himself, gazing and
+varying; the Colours of his Face agitating by the Diversity of his
+Thoughts; which Sir _Francis_ perceiving, ask’d him, What it was that so
+visibly concern’d him? To which he reply’d, That indeed he was
+concern’d, but with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, since he had never
+seen any Thing more beautiful than that Picture, unless it were a Lady
+for whom he had the most sincere Affection imaginable, and whom it did
+very nearly represent; and then enquir’d for whom that was drawn? Sir
+_Francis_ answer’d him, ’Twas design’d for one who was, I dare not say
+who is, my Daughter; and the other two were drawn for her younger
+Sisters. And see, Sir, (persu’d he) here they come, following their
+Mother: At which Words Sir _Lucius_ was oblig’d to divorce his Eyes from
+the charming Shadow, and make his Compliments to them; which were no
+sooner over than Dinner was serv’d in, where the young Knight eat as
+heartily as he could, considering he sate just opposite to it, and in
+Sight of the two Ladies, who were now exactly like his own Wife, though
+not so very beautiful.
+
+The Table being uncover’d, Sir _Lucius_ desir’d to know why Sir
+_Francis_ said, He doubted whether the Original of that Picture were yet
+his Daughter? To which the Mother return’d (big with Sorrow, which was
+seen in her Tears) That her Husband had spoken but too rightly: For
+(added she) ’tis now three Years since we have either seen her or heard
+from her. How, Madam! three Years, (cry’d Sir _Lucius_) I believe I can
+shew your Ladiship a dear Acquaintance of mine, so wonderfully like that
+Picture, that I am almost perswaded she is the very Original; only
+(pardon me, Madam) she tells me her Parents are of mean Birth and
+Fortune. Dear Sir, (cry’d the tender Mother) Is she in this Country? She
+is not two Miles hence, reply’d Sir _Lucius_. By all Things most dear to
+you, Sir, (said the Lady) let us be so happy as to see her, and that
+with all convenient Expedition! for it will be a Happiness to see any
+Creature, the only Like my dearest _Arabella_. _Arabella_, Madam! alas!
+No, Madam, her Name is _Peregrina_. No Matter for Names, Sir, (cry’d the
+Lady) I want the Sight of the dear Creature. Sir, (added the worthy old
+Knight) I can assure you it will be an eternal Obligation to us; or, if
+you please, we will wait on you to her. By no Means, Sir, (return’d Sir
+_Lucius_) I will repeat my Trouble to you with her, in an Hour at
+farthest. We shall desire the Continuance of such Trouble as long as we
+live, reply’d Sir _Francis_. So, without farther Ceremony, Sir _Lucius_
+left ’em and return’d to his Lady, whom he found ready dress’d, as he
+wish’d he might. Madam, (said he) where are your Father and Mother?
+I know not, yet, my Dear, she reply’d. Well, (return’d he) we will
+expect ’em, or send for ’em hither at Night; in the mean Time I have
+engag’d to bring you with me to Sir _Francis Fairname_ and his Lady,
+with all imaginable Expedition. So immediately, as soon as Coach and Six
+and Equipage was ready, he hurry’d her away with him to Sir _Francis_,
+whom they found walking with his Lady and two Daughters in the outward
+Court, impatiently expecting their Coming. The Boot of the Coach (for
+that was the Fashion in those Days) was presently let down, and Sir
+_Lucius_ led his Lady forwards to them; who coming within three or four
+Paces of the good old Knight, his Lady fell on her Knees, and begg’d
+their Pardon and Blessing. Her affectionate Father answer’d ’em with
+Tears from his Eyes; but the good ancient Lady was so overcome with Joy,
+that she fell into a Swoon, and had like to have been accompany’d by her
+Daughter, who fell upon her Knees by her, and with her Shrieks recall’d
+her, when she strait cry’d out, My Daughter, my Daughter’s come again!
+my _Arabella_ alive! Ay, my dear offended Mother! with all the Duty and
+Penitence that Humanity is capable of, return’d the Lady _Lovewell_. Her
+Sisters then express’d their Love in Tears, Embraces, and Kisses, while
+her dear Husband begg’d a Blessing of her Parents, who were very
+pleasantly surpriz’d, to know that their Daughter was so happily
+marry’d, and to a Gentleman of such an Estate and Quality as Sir
+_Lucius_ seem’d to be: ’Twas late that Night e’er they went to Bed at
+Sir _Francis’s_. The next Day, after they had all pretty well eas’d
+themselves of their Passions, Sir _Francis_ told his Son-in-Law, that as
+he had three Daughters, so he had 3000_l._ a Year, and he would divide
+it equally among ’em; but for Joy of the Recovery of his eldest
+Daughter, and her fortunate Match with so worthy a Gentleman as Sir
+_Lucius_, who had given him an Account of his Estate and Quality, he
+promis’d him ten thousand Pounds in ready Money besides; whereas the
+other young Ladies were to have but five thousand a Piece, besides their
+Dividend of the Estate. And now, (said he) Daughter, the Cause of your
+Retreat from us, old Sir _Robert Richland_, has been dead these three
+Months, on such a Day. How, Sir, (cry’d she) on such a Day! that was the
+very Day on which I was so happy as to be marry’d to my dear Sir
+_Lucius_.
+
+She then gave her Father, and Mother, and Sisters, a Relation of all
+that had happen’d to her since her Absence from her dear Parents, who
+were extremely pleas’d with the Account of Sir _Christian_ and his
+Lady’s Hospitality and Kindness to her; and in less than a Fortnight
+after, they took a Journey to Sir _Lucius’s_, carrying the two other
+young Ladies along with ’em; and, by the Way, they call’d at Sir
+_Christian’s_, where they arriv’d Time enough to be present the next Day
+at Sir _Christian’s_ Daughter’s Wedding, which they kept there for a
+whole Fortnight.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Wandering Beauty.
+
+
+p. 451 _two Pinners_. A pinner is ‘a coif with two long flaps one on
+each side pinned on and hanging down, and sometimes fastened at the
+breast . . . sometimes applied to the flaps as an adjunct of the
+coif.’--_N.E.D._ cf. Pepys, 18 April, 1664: ‘To Hyde Park . . . and my
+Lady Castlemaine in a coach by herself, in yellow satin and a
+pinner on.’
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE UNHAPPY MISTAKE; OR, THE IMPIOUS VOW PUNISH’D.
+
+
+The Effects of Jealousy have ever been most fatal; and it is certainly
+one of the most tormenting Passions that an human Soul can be capable
+of, tho’ it be created by the least Appearances of Reason: The Truth of
+which this following Story will evince.
+
+Sir _Henry Hardyman_ was a Gentleman of a very large Estate in
+_Somersetshire_, of a very generous Temper, hospitable almost to
+_Extravagancy_; a _plain down-right Dealer, wonderfully good-natur’d_,
+but very _passionate_: Whose Lady dying, left him only a Son and a
+Daughter; between whom there were about six Years Difference in their
+Age. _Miles Hardyman_ (for so the Son was call’d) being the eldest; both
+of naturally virtuous Inclinations, which were carefully improv’d by a
+generous and pious Education. _Miles_ was a very tall, large, and
+well-proportion’d Person at Two and Twenty; brave and active, and seem’d
+to be born for War, tho’ he had a Heart as tender and capable of
+receiving the Impressions of Love as any of our Sex. He had been bred
+for some Years at the University; where, among other Things, he learn’d
+to fence; in which, however, he was mightily improv’d in a Twelvemonth’s
+Time that he stay’d here in Town. _Lucretia_, his Sister, was beautiful
+enough, her Father designing to give ten thousand Pounds with her on
+Marriage; but (which is above all) she was incomparably good-humour’d.
+
+At his Return to his Father in the Country, young _Hardyman_ found Madam
+_Diana Constance_, a most beautiful Lady, with his Sister, at that Time
+about 16 Years old; somewhat tall of her Age, of happy and virtuous
+Education, of an indifferent Fortune, not exceeding two thousand Pounds,
+which was no Way answerable to the Expectations he had after his
+Father’s Death; but it was impossible he should not love her, she was so
+prodigiously charming both in her inward and outward Excellencies;
+especially since he had the Opportunity of conversing with her at his
+Father’s for above a Month. ’Tis true, he had seen her before, but it
+was then five Years since. Love her he did then, and that most
+passionately; nor was she insensible or ungrateful. But our young Lovers
+had not Discretion enough to conceal the Symptoms of their Passion,
+which too visibly and frequently sally’d out at their Eyes before the
+old Gentleman; which made him prudently, as he thought, and timely
+enough, offer his Daughter _Lucretia_ the Liberty of taking a small
+Journey with _Diana_ to her House, which was not above 20 Miles thence,
+where that young Lady’s Aunt govern’d in her Absence; for _Diana_ had no
+other Relation, so near as she was, living in _England_, her only
+Brother _Lewis_ having been in _Italy_ and _France_ ever since her
+Father dy’d, which was then near five Years past.
+
+_Lucretia_, over-joy’d at her Father’s pretended Kindness, propos’d it
+to the young Lady, her Friend, who was very fond of the Proposal, hoping
+that _Lucretia’s_ Brother might bear ’em Company there for some little
+Time; but old Sir _Henry_ had quite different Thoughts of the Matter.
+The third Day, from the first Discourse of it, was assign’d for their
+Departure. In the mean Time young _Hardyman_ knew not what to think of
+the Divorce he was going to suffer; for he began to have some
+Apprehensions that the old Knight was sensible, and displeas’d, that
+they lov’d each other: Not but that the Family of the _Constances_ was
+as ancient and honourable as that of _Hardymans_, and was once endow’d
+with as plentiful an Estate, tho’ now young _Lewis Constance_ had not
+above 1200_l._ a Year. (O the unkind Distance that Money makes, even
+between Friends!)
+
+Old ’Squire _Constance_ was a very worthy Gentleman, and Sir _Henry_ had
+a particular Friendship for him; but (perhaps) that dy’d with him, and
+only a neighbourly Kindness, or something more than an ordinary Respect,
+surviv’d to his Posterity. The Day came that was to carry ’em to the
+young Lady _Constance’s_, and her Lover was preparing to attend ’em,
+when the old Gentleman ask’d him, What he meant by that Preparation? And
+whether he design’d to leave him alone? Or if he could think ’twere
+dutifully or decently done? To which the Son reply’d, That his Care of
+his Sister, and his Respect to a young Lady, in a Manner a Stranger to
+him, had misled his Thoughts from that Duty and Regard he ought to have
+pay’d to his Father, which he hop’d and begg’d he would pardon, tho’ he
+design’d only just to have seen her safe there, and to have return’d at
+Night. With this the old Gentleman seem’d pacify’d for the present; and
+he bid him go take Leave of the Lady; which he did with a great deal of
+Concern, telling her, that he should be most miserable ’till he had the
+Happiness of seeing her again; however, he begg’d she would converse
+with him by Letters, which might (happily) a little palliate his
+Misfortune in her Absence: Adding, that he would be eternally hers, and
+none but hers. To which she made as kind a Return as he could wish;
+letting him know, that she desired to live no longer than she was
+assur’d that she was belov’d by him. Then taking as solemn a Farewel of
+her as if he had never been to see her more, after he had given his
+Sister a parting Kiss or two, he led ’em down to his Father, who saw ’em
+mounted, and attended by two of his Servants. After which he walked with
+’em about a Mile from the House, where he and young _Hardyman_ left ’em
+to persue their Journey.
+
+In their Return to the House, said Sir _Henry_, I find, Son, I have
+hitherto mistaken your Inclinations: I thought they had altogether
+prompted you to great and manly Actions and Attempts; but, to my Sorrow,
+I now find my Error. How, I beseech you, Sir? (ask’d the Son.) You are
+guilty of a foolish lazy Passion, (reply’d the Father) you are in Love,
+_Miles_; in Love with one who can no Way advance your Fortune, Family,
+nor Fame. ’Tis true, she has Beauty, and o’my Conscience she is virtuous
+too; but will Beauty and Virtue, with a small Portion of 2000_l._ answer
+to the Estate of near 4000_l._ a Year, which you must inherit if you
+survive me? Beauty and Virtue, Sir, (return’d young _Hardyman_) with the
+Addition of good Humour and Education, is a Dowry that may merit a
+Crown. Notion! Stuff! All Stuff (cry’d the old Knight) Money is Beauty,
+Virtue, good Humour, Education, Reputation, and high Birth. Thank
+Heaven, Sir, (said _Miles_) you don’t live as if you believ’d your own
+Doctrine; you part with your Money very freely in your House-keeping,
+and I am happy to see it. ’Tis that I value it for; (reply’d the Father)
+I would therefore have thee, my Son, add to what in all Likelihood will
+be thine, so considerably, by Marriage, that thou mayst better deserve
+the Character of Hospitable _Hardyman_ than thy Father Sir
+_Henry_.--Come, _Miles_, (return’d he) thou shalt think no more on her.
+I can’t avoid it, Sir, (said t’other.) Well, well, think of her you may,
+(said Sir _Henry_) but not as for a Wife; no, if you mean to continue in
+your Father’s Love, be not in Love with Madam _Diana_, nor with any of
+her Nymphs, tho’ never so fair or so chast--unless they have got Store
+of Money, Store of Money, _Miles_. Come, come in, we’ll take a Game at
+_Chess_ before Dinner, if we can. I obey you, Sir, (return’d the Son)
+but if I win, I shall have the Liberty to love the Lady, I hope. I made
+no such Promise, (said the Knight) no, no Love without my Leave; but if
+you give me _Checque-Mate_, you shall have my Bay Gelding, and I would
+not take 50 Broad Pieces for him. I’ll do my best, Sir, to deserve him,
+(said the young Gentleman.) ’Tis a mettl’d and fiery Beast (said Sir
+_Henry_.) They began their Game then, and had made about six Moves
+apiece before Dinner, which was serv’d up near four Hours after they
+sate down to play. It happen’d they had no Company din’d with ’em that
+Day; so they made a hasty Meal, and fell again to their former Dispute,
+which held ’em near six Hours longer; when, either the Knight’s
+Inadvertency, or the young Gentleman’s Skill and Application, gave him
+the Victory and Reward.
+
+The next Day they hunted; the Day following, the House was fill’d with
+Friends, and Strangers; who came with ’em; all which were certain of a
+hearty Welcome e’er they return’d. Other Days other Company came in, as
+Neighbours; and none of all that made their Visits, could be dismiss’d
+under three or four Days at soonest.
+
+Thus they past the Hours away for about six Weeks; in all which Time our
+Lover could get but one Opportunity of writing to his adorable, and that
+was by the Means of a Servant, who came with a Letter from his Sister
+_Lucretia_ to Sir _Henry_, and another to him, that held one inclos’d to
+him from the beautiful _Diana_; the Words, as perfectly as I can
+remember ’em, were these, or to this Effect:
+
+  _My +Hardyman+,_
+
+  _Too Dear!--No,--too much lov’d!--That’s impossible too. How have I
+  enjoy’d my self with your Letters since my Absence from you! In the
+  first, how movingly you lament the unkind Distances of Time and
+  Place that thus divorces you from me! In another, in what tender
+  and prevailing Words your Passion is express’d! In a Third, what
+  invincible Arguments are urg’d to prove the Presence of your Soul to
+  me in the Absence of your Body! A Fourth, how fill’d with just
+  Complaints of a rigorous Father! What Assurances does the Fifth
+  give me of your speedy Journey hither! And the Sixth, (for no less
+  methought I should have receiv’d from you) confirms what you last
+  said to me, +That you will ever be mine, and none but mine.
+  --O boundless Blessing!+ --These (my Life) are the Dreams, which,
+  for six several Nights, have mock’d the real Passion of_
+
+  _Your forgotten +Diana+._
+
+He read it, smil’d, and kiss’d it, and then proceeded to examine his
+Sisters, which held a great many Expressions of a tender Affection, and
+withal gave him Notice, that there was a mighty Spark lately come from
+Town into those Parts, that made his Court to the young Lady
+_Constance_; desiring him therefore to be as sudden in his Visit, if he
+intended any, as Possibility would permit. This startled and stung him:
+Wherefore, taking the Opportunity of his Father’s Retirement, to write
+to the young Lady and his Sister; he dispatch’d a Letter to _Lucretia_,
+wherein he thank’d her for her Intelligence and Caution, and promis’d to
+be with her the next Night at farthest, if alive; and, at the same Time,
+writ to this Purpose to _Diana_:
+
+  Thou only Blessing for which I wish to live,
+
+  _How delightfully do you punish my seeming Neglect! I acknowledge I
+  have not sent to you ’till now, but it was because it was utterly
+  impossible, my Father continually keeping so strict a Guard over me
+  himself, that not even +Mercury+ could evade or illude his
+  Vigilance. Alas! my Soul, he is now no Stranger to my Passion for
+  you, which he pretends, at least, is highly offensive to him, for
+  what Reasons I blush to think. But what signifies an Offence to him
+  of so generous a Nature as my Love! I am assured I was born for you,
+  or none other of your fair Sex, though attended with all the
+  Advantages of Birth and Fortune. I will therefore proceed in this
+  Affair, as if we were already united by the outward Ceremonies of
+  the Church, and forsake him and all the World for you, my better
+  Part! Be certain, therefore, that to-Morrow Night, e’er you sleep,
+  you shall see (my Life, my Soul, my All)_
+
+  Your most sincere, and
+  Most passionate Lover,
+  _Hardyman_.
+
+This, with the Letter to his Sister, he convey’d into the Servant’s Hand
+that came from ’em, undiscover’d of his Father; who likewise dismiss’d
+the Messenger with his grave Epistle, full of musty Morals, to the two
+young gay Ladies. But he had an unlucky Thought, that he was overseen in
+giving his Son the Opportunity of retiring from him, whilst he was
+writing to his Daughter and t’other fair Creature, having a Jealousy
+that young _Hardyman_ might have made Use of that very Article of Time
+to the same End. This made him very uneasy and restless. On t’other
+Side, the young Gentleman though he was extreamly satisfy’d with those
+endearing Expressions of Love which he found in _Diana’s_ Letter, yet he
+was all on Fire with the Apprehension of a Rival, and the Desire to see
+him, that he might dispute with him for the glorious Prize.
+
+The next Day, at Four in the Afternoon, they went to Bowls about a Mile
+off; where, after several Ends, the Knight and his Party lay all nearest
+about the Jack for the Game, ’till young _Hardyman_ put in a bold Cast,
+that beat all his Adversaries from the Block, and carry’d two of his
+Seconds close to it, his own Bowl lying partly upon it, which made them
+up. Ha! (cry’d a young Gentleman of his Side) bravely done, _Miles_,
+thou hast carry’d the Day, and kiss’d the Mistress. I hope I shall
+before ’tis dark yet, (return’d he.) Sir _Henry_ overhearing him, said,
+(his Face all glowing red with Passion) How dare you, Sir, express your
+self so freely in my Hearing? There, (persu’d he, and struck him a Blow
+on the Ear) I first salute you thus: Do you know where you are, and who
+I am? Yes, you are my Father, Sir, (reply’d young _Hardyman_, bowing.)
+If you see her to Night, (said the passionate Father) resolve to see me
+no more. By Heaven, and all my Hopes, no more I will, after this Minute,
+(return’d the Son, being retreated some Distance from him, out of his
+Hearing.) So taking his Leave of the Company, with the usual Ceremony,
+he went directly Home, where immediately he order’d his Servant
+_Goodlad_ to saddle their Horses, whilst he himself went up to his
+Chamber, and took all the Rings and Jewels that his Mother had left him,
+and the Money that he had then in his Possession, which altogether
+amounted to near twelve hundred Pounds; and packing up some Linnen in
+his Portmanteau, he quickly mounted with his Servant, and made his Way
+towards the Lady _Constance’s_.
+
+’Twas near seven a Clock e’er they got within Sight of his Mistress’s,
+when our Lover perceiv’d a Gentleman and his Servant mounted at some
+Distance on t’other Side of the House, as coming from _London_: This
+unfortunately happen’d to be _Lewis Constance_, just return’d from his
+Travels, whom young _Hardyman_ had never seen before, and therefore
+could not know him at that Time: Observing therefore that they made to
+the same Place for which he was design’d, he halted a little, taking
+Covert under a large Elm-Tree, within a hundred Paces of the House,
+where he had the unlucky Opportunity to see his Mistress and Sister come
+out; whom _Lewis_ perceiving at the same Time, alighted, and ran eagerly
+to embrace her, who receiv’d him with Arms expanded, crying, O my Dear,
+dearest Brother; but that last Word was stifled with Kisses. Do I once
+more hold thee in my Arms! O come in, and let me give my Joys a Loose!
+I am surpriz’d, and rave with extream Hapiness! O! thou art all to me
+that is valuable on Earth! (return’d he.) At these Words she, in a
+Manner, hal’d him in. This Sight was certainly the greatest
+Mortification to her Lover that ever Man surviv’d! He presently and
+positively concluded it could be none but that Rival, of whom his Sister
+had given him Advice in her Letter. What to do he could by no Means
+determine; sometimes he was for going in, and affronting him before his
+Mistress; a second Thought advis’d him to expect his coming out near
+that Place; upon another Consideration he was going to send him a
+Challenge, but by whom he knew not, for his Servant was as well known
+there as himself. At last he resolv’d to ride farther out of the Road,
+to see for some convenient Retreat that Night, where he might be
+undiscover’d: Such a Place he found about two Miles thence, at a good
+substantial Farmer’s, who made him heartily welcome that Night, with the
+best Beer he had in his Cellar, so that he slept much better than he
+could have expected his Jealousy would have permitted: But the Morning
+renew’d and redoubled his Torture: But this jolly Landlord, hugely
+pleas’d with his good Company the Night past, visited him as he got out
+of his Bed, which was near two Hours after he wak’d; in which Time he
+had laid his Design how to proceed, in order to take Satisfaction of
+this Rival. He suffer’d himself, therefore, to be manag’d by the good
+Man of the House, who wou’d fain have made a Conquest of him; but he
+found that the young Gentleman could bear as much in his Head as he
+could on his Shoulders, which gave _Hardyman_ the Opportunity of keeping
+a Stowage yet for a good Dinner: After which they fell to bumping it
+about, ’till the Farmer fell asleep; when young _Hardyman_ retir’d into
+his Chamber, where, after a Turn or two, he writ as follows to his
+Mistress’s Brother, whose Name he knew not; and therefore the Billet is
+not superscrib’d.
+
+  _SIR,_
+
+  _You have done me an unpardonable Injury; and if you are a
+  Gentleman, as you seem, you will give me Satisfaction within this
+  Hour at the Place whither this Messenger shall lead you. Bring
+  nothing with you but your Sword and your Servant, as I with mine,
+  to take Care of him that falls.--’Till I see you, I am your
+  Servant, &c._
+
+An Hour before Supper, his kind Host wak’d, and they eat heartily
+together that Night, but did not drink so plentifully as they had since
+their first Meeting; young _Hardyman_ telling him, that he was oblig’d
+to be mounted at the fore-mention’d Morning, in order to persue his
+Journey; and that, in the mean Time, he desir’d the Favour of him to let
+one of his Servants carry a Letter from him, to one that was then at the
+young Lady _Constance’s_: To which t’other readily agreed. The young
+Gentleman then made him a Present of a Tobacco-Box, with the Head of
+King _Charles_ the First on the Lid, and his Arms on the Bottom in
+Silver; which was very acceptable to him, for he was a great Loyalist,
+tho’ it was in the Height of _Oliver’s Usurpation_. About four a-Clock
+in the Morning, as our jealous Lover had order’d him, one of the
+Servants came to him for the Letter; with which he receiv’d these
+Instructions, that he should deliver that Note into the Gentleman’s own
+Hand, who came to the Lady _Constance’s_ the Night before the last. That
+he should shew that Gentleman to the Field where young _Hardyman_,
+should deliver the Note to the Servant, which was just a Mile from
+either House; or that he should bring an Answer to the Note from that
+Gentleman. The Fellow was a good Scholar, tho’ he could neither read nor
+write. For he learn’d his Lesson perfectly well, and repeated it
+punctually to _Lewis Constance_; who was strangely surpriz’d at what he
+found in the Billet. He ask’d the Messenger if he knew his Name that
+sent it; or if he were a Gentleman? Nay (Mass, quoth the Fellow)
+I warrant he’s a Gentleman; for he has given me nine good Shillings
+here, for coming but hither to you; but for his Name, you may e’en name
+it as well as I--He has got one to wait a top of him almost as fine as
+himself, zure. The surpriz’d Traveller jump’d out of his Bed, slipt on
+his Gown, and call’d up his Servant: Thence he went to his Sister’s
+Chamber, with whom _Lucretia_ lay: They both happen’d to be awake, and
+talking, as he came to the Door, which his Sister permitted him to
+unlock, and ask’d him the Reason of his so early Rising? Who reply’d,
+That since he could not sleep, he would take the Air a little. But
+first, Sister (continu’d he) I will refresh my self at your Lips: And
+now, Madam, (added he to _Lucretia_) I would beg a Cordial from you. For
+that (said his Sister) you shall be oblig’d to me this once; saying so,
+she gently turn’d _Lucretia’s_ Face towards him, and he had his Wish.
+Ten to one, but he had rather continu’d with _Lucretia_, than have gone
+to her Brother, had he known him; for he lov’d her truly and
+passionately: But being a Man of true Courage and Honour, he took his
+Leave of ’em, presently dress’d, and tripp’d away with the Messenger,
+who made more than ordinary Haste, because of his Success, which was
+rewarded with another piece of Money; and he danc’d Home to the Sound of
+the Money in his Pocket.
+
+No sooner was the Fellow out of Hearing, than _Lewis_, coming up to his
+Adversary, shew’d him the Billet, and said, Sent you this to me, Sir?
+I did, Sir, reply’d _Hardyman_: I never saw you ’till now, return’d
+_Lewis_; how then could I injure you? ’Tis enough that I know it,
+answer’d _Miles_. But to satisfy you, you shall know that I am sensible
+that you pretend to a fair Lady, to whom I have an elder Title. In
+short, you entrench on my Prerogative. I own no Subjection to you,
+(return’d _Constance_) and my Title is as good as your Prerogative,
+which I will maintain as I can hold this, (continu’d he, and drew his
+Sword) Hah! Nobly done! (cry’d _Hardyman_ drawing) I could almost wish
+thou wert my Friend: You speak generously, return’d _Lewis_, I find I
+have to do with a Gentleman. Retire to a convenient Distance, said
+_Hardyman_ to _Goodlad_. If you come near while we are disputing, my
+Sword shall thank you for’t; and you, Sir, retire! said _Constance_ to
+his Servant. And if you will keep your Life, keep your Distance! O my
+brave Enemy! (cry’d _Miles_) Give me thy Hand! Here they shook Hands,
+and gave one another the Compliment of the Hat, and then (said
+_Hardyman_) Come on, Sir! I am with you, Sir, (reply’d _Lewis_ standing
+on his Guard) they were both equally knowing in the Use of their Swords;
+so that they fought for some few Minutes without any Wound receiv’d on
+either Side. But, at last, _Miles_ being taller and much stronger than
+his Adversary, resolv’d to close with him; which he did, putting by a
+Pass that _Lewis_ made at him with his left Hand, and at the same Time
+he run him quite thro’ the Body, threw him, and disarm’d him. Rise if
+thou can’st! (cry’d _Hardyman_) thou art really brave. I will not put
+thee to the Shame of asking thy Life. Alas! I cannot rise, (reply’d
+_Lewis_, endeavouring to get up) so short a Life as mine were not worth
+the Breath of a Coward.--Make Haste! Fly hence! For thou are lost if
+thou stay’st. My Friends are many and great; they will murther thee by
+Law. Fly! Fly in Time! Heaven forgive us both! Amen! (Cry’d _Miles_) I
+hope thou may’st recover! ’Tis Pity so much Bravery and Honour should be
+lost so early. Farewel.--And now Adieu to the fair and faithless
+_Diana_! Ha! (Cry’d _Constance_) O bloody Mistake! But could speak no
+more for Loss of Blood. _Hardyman_ heard not those last Words, being
+spoken with a fainting Voice, but in Haste mounted, and rode with all
+Speed for _London_, attended by _Goodlad_; whilst _Constance’s_ Servant
+came up to him, and having all along travell’d with him, had two or
+three Times the Occasion of making Use of that Skill in Surgery which he
+had learn’d Abroad in _France_ and _Italy_, which he now again practis’d
+on his Master, with such Success, that in less than half an Hour, he put
+his Master in a Capacity of leaning on him; and so walking Home with
+him, tho’ very gently and slowly. By the Way, _Lewis_ charg’d his
+Servant not to say which Way _Hardyman_ took, unless he design’d to quit
+his Service for ever. But pardon me, Sir! (return’d t’other) your Wound
+is very dangerous, and I am not sure that it is not mortal: And if so,
+give me Leave to say, I shall persue him over all _England_, for
+Vengeance of your Death. ’Twas a Mistake on both Sides, I find; (said
+_Lewis_) therefore think not of Revenge: I was as hot and as much to
+blame as he. They were near an Hour getting to the House, after his
+Blood was stopp’d. As he was led in, designing to be carry’d to his
+Chamber, and to take his Bed as sick of an Ague, his Sister and
+_Lucretia_ met him, and both swoon’d away at the Sight of him; but in a
+little Time they were recover’d, as if to torment him with their Tears,
+Sighs, and Lamentations. They ask’d him a thousand impertinent
+Questions, which he defer’d to answer, ’till he was laid in Bed; when he
+told his Sister, that the Gentleman who had thus treated him, bid her
+Adieu, by the Epithet of Fair and Faithless. For Heaven’s Sake, (cry’d
+_Diana_) what Manner of Man was he? Very tall and well set, (reply’d her
+Brother) of an austere Aspect, but a well-favour’d Face, and
+prodigiously strong. Had he a Servant with him, Sir? (ask’d _Lucretia_)
+Yes, Madam (answer’d her Lover) and describ’d her Servant. Ah! my
+Prophetic Fears (cry’d she) It was my Brother, attended by _Goodlad_.
+Your Brother! Dearest and Fairest of your Sex, (said _Lewis_) Heaven
+send him safely out of _England_ then! Nay, be he who he may, I wish the
+same; for he is truly brave. Alas, my dear, my cruel _Hardyman_! (cry’d
+_Diana_) Your _Hardyman_, Sister! (said _Lewis_) Ah! would he had been
+so! You might then have had Hopes of an affectionate Brother’s Life;
+which yet I will endeavour to preserve, that by the Enjoyment of your
+dear and nearest Conversation, Madam, (persu’d he to _Lucretia_) I may
+be prepar’d to endure the only greater Joys of Heaven. But O! My Words
+prey on my Spirits. And all the World, like a huge Ship at Anchor, turn
+round with the ebbing Tide.--I can no more. At these Words both the
+Ladies shriek’d aloud, which made him sigh, and move his Hand as well as
+he could toward the Door; his Attendant perceiv’d it, and told ’em he
+sign’d to them to quit the Room; as indeed it was necessary they should,
+that he might repose a while if possible, at least that he might not be
+oblig’d to talk, nor look much about him. They obey’d the Necessity, but
+with some Reluctancy, and went into their own Chamber, where they
+sigh’d, wept, and lamented their Misfortunes for near two Hours
+together: When all on a suddain, the Aunt, who had her Share of Sorrow
+too in this ugly Business, came running up to ’em, to let ’em know that
+old Sir _Harry Hardyman_ was below, and came to carry his Daughter Madam
+_Lucretia_ Home with him. This both surpriz’d and troubled the young
+Ladies, who were yet more disturb’d, when the Aunt told them, that he
+enquir’d for his Son, and would not be convinc’d by any Argument
+whatever; no, nor Protestation in her Capacity, that young _Hardyman_
+was not in the House, nor that he had not been entertain’d there ever
+since he left his Father--But come, Cousin and Madam, (said she to the
+young Ladies) go down to him immediately, or I fear he’ll come up to
+you. _Lucretia_ knew she must, and t’other would not be there alone: So
+down they came to the Old testy Gentleman. Your Servant, Lady, (said he
+to _Diana_) _Lucretia_ then kneel’d for his Blessing. Very well, very
+well, (cry’d he hastily) God bless you! Where’s your Brother? Ha!
+Where’s your Brother? I know not, Sir, (she answer’d) I have not seen
+him since I have been here. No, (said he) not since you have been in
+this Parlour last, you mean. I mean, Sir, (she return’d) upon my Hopes
+of yours and Heaven’s Blessing, I have not seen him since I saw you,
+Sir, within a Mile of our own House. Ha! _Lucretia_, Ha! (cry’d the old
+Infidel) have a Care you pull not mine and Heaven’s Curse on your Head!
+Believe me, Sir, (said _Diana_) to my Knowledge, she has not. Why, Lady,
+(ask’d the passionate Knight) are you so curious and fond of him your
+self, that you will allow no Body else the Sight of him? Not so much as
+his own Sister? I don’t understand you, Sir, (she reply’d) for, by my
+Hopes of Heaven, I have not seen him neither since that Day I left you.
+Hey! pass and repass, (cry’d the old suspicious Father) _presto_, be
+gone!--This is all Conjuration. ’Tis diabolical, dealing with the Devil!
+In Lies, I mean, on one Side or other; for he told me to my Teeth, at
+least, he said in my Hearing, on the Bowling-Green, but two Nights
+since, that he hop’d to see your Ladyship (for I suppose you are his
+Mistress) that Night e’re ’twas dark: Upon which I gave him only a kind
+and fatherly Memorandum of his Duty, and he immediately left the Company
+and me, who have not set Eye on him, nor heard one Syllable of him
+since.--Now, judge you, Lady, if I have not Reason to conclude that he
+has been and is above still! No, (said the Aunt) you have no Reason to
+conclude so, when they both have told you solemnly the contrary; and
+when I can add, that I will take a formal Oath, if requir’d, that he has
+not been in this House since my Cousin _Lewis_ went to travel, nor
+before, to the best of my Memory; and I am confident, neither my Cousin
+_Diana_, nor the Lady your Daughter, have seen him since they left him
+with you, Sir--I wish, indeed, my dear Cousin _Lewis_ had not seen him
+since. How! What’s that you say, good Lady? (ask’d the Knight) Is Mr.
+_Lewis Constance_ then in _England_? And do you think that he has seen
+him so lately? for your Discourse seems to imply as much. Sir _Henry_,
+(reply’d the Aunt) you are very big with Questions, but I will endeavour
+to satisfy you in all of ’em.--My Cousin _Lewis Constance_ is in
+_England_; nay, more, he is now in his Chamber a-Bed, and dangerously,
+if not mortally, wounded, by ’Squire _Miles Hardyman_, your Son. Heaven
+forbid, (cry’d the Father) sure ’tis impossible. All Things are so to
+the Incredulous. Look you, Sir, (continu’d she, seeing _Lewis’s_ Servant
+come in) do you remember his _French_ Servant _Albert_, whom he took
+some Months before he left _England_?--There he is. Humh! (said the old
+Sceptic) I think verily ’tis the same. Ay, Sir, (said the Servant) I am
+the same, at your Service. How does your Master? (ask’d Sir _Henry_)
+Almost as bad as when the ’Squire your Son left him, (reply’d _Albert_)
+only I have stopp’d the Bleeding, and he is now dozing a little; to say
+the Truth, I have only Hopes of his Life because I wish it. When was
+this done? (the Knight inquir’d) Not three Hours since, (return’d
+t’other.) What was the Occasion? (said Sir _Henry_) An ugly Mistake on
+both Sides; your Son, as I understand, not knowing my Master, took him
+for his Rival, and bad him quit his Pretensions to the fair Lady, for
+whom he had a Passion: My Master thought he meant the Lady _Lucretia_,
+your Daughter, Sir, with whom I find he is passionately in
+Love,--and--Very well--so--go on! (interrupted the Knight with a
+Sigh)--and was resolv’d to dispute his Title with him; which he did; but
+the ’Squire is as strong as the Horse he rides on!--And! ’tis a
+desperate Wound!--Which Way is he gone, canst thou tell? (ask’d the
+Father) Yes, I can; but I must not, ’tis as much as my Place is worth.
+My Master would not have him taken for all the World; nay, I must needs
+own he is a very brave Person. But you may let me know; (said the
+Father) you may be confident I will not expose him to the Law: Besides,
+if it please Heaven that your Master recovers, there will be no
+Necessity of a Prosecution.--Prithee let me know! You’ll pardon me, Sir,
+(said _Lewis’s_ trusty Servant) my Master, perhaps, may give you that
+Satisfaction; and I’ll give you Notice, Sir--when you may conveniently
+discourse him.--Your humble Servant, Sir, (he added, bowing, and went
+out.) The old Gentleman was strangely mortify’d at this News of his Son;
+and his Absence perplex’d him more than any thing besides in the
+Relation. He walk’d wildly up and down the Room, sighing, foaming, and
+rolling his Eyes in a dreadful Manner; and at the Noise of any Horse on
+the Road, out he would start as nimbly as if he were as youthful as his
+Son, whom he sought in vain among those Passengers. Then returning, he
+cry’d out to her, O _Lucretia_! Your Brother! Where’s your Brother?--O
+my Son! the Delight, Comfort, and Pride of my Old Age! Why dost thou fly
+me? Then answering as for young _Hardyman_, (said he) you struck me
+publickly before much Company, in the Face of my Companions.--Come,
+(reply’d he for himself) ’Twas Passion, _Miles_, ’twas Passion; Youth is
+guilty of many Errors, and shall not Age be allow’d their Infirmities?
+_Miles_, thou know’st I love thee.--Love thee above Riches or long
+Life.--O! Come to my Arms, dear Fugitive, and make Haste to preserve
+his, who gave thee thy Life!--Thus he went raving about the Room, whilst
+the sorrowful, compassionate Ladies express’d their Grief in Tears.
+After this loving Fit was over with him, he would start out in a
+contrary Madness, and threaten his Son with the greatest and the
+heaviest Punishment he could imagine; insomuch, that the young Ladies,
+who had Thoughts before of perswading _Lewis_ to inform Sir _Harry_
+which Way his Son rode, were now afraid of proposing any such Thing to
+him. Dinner was at last serv’d in, to which _Diana_ with much Difficulty
+prevail’d with him to sit. Indeed, neither he, nor any there present,
+had any great Appetite to eat; their Grief had more than satiated ’em.
+About five a-Clock, _Albert_ signify’d to the Knight, that he might then
+most conveniently speak with his Master; but he begg’d that he would not
+disturb him beyond half a Quarter of an Hour: He went up therefore to
+him, follow’d by the young Lady and the Aunt: _Lewis_ was the first that
+spoke, who, putting his Hand a little out of the Bed, said with a Sigh,
+Sir _Henry_, I hope you will pity a great Misfortune, and endeavour to
+pardon me, who was the greatest Occasion of it; which has doubly
+punish’d me in these Wounds, and in the Loss of that Gentleman’s
+Conversation, whose only Friendship I would have courted. Heaven pardon
+you both the Injuries done to one another; (return’d the Knight)
+I grieve to see you thus, and the more, when I remember my self that
+’twas done by my Son’s unlucky Hand. Would he were here.--So would not I
+(said _Lewis_) ’till I am assur’d my Wound is not mortal, which I have
+some Reasons to believe it is not. Let me beg one Favour of you, Sir,
+(said Sir _Henry_) I beseech you do not deny me. It must be a very
+difficult Matter that you, Sir, shall not command of me, (reply’d
+_Constance_.) It can’t be difficult to you to tell me, or to command
+your Servant to let me know what Road my Son took. He may be at
+_Bristol_ long e’re this, (return’d _Lewis_.) That was the Road they
+took (added the Servant.) I thank you, my worthy, my kind Friend! (said
+the afflicted Father) I will study to deserve this Kindness of you. How
+do you find your self now? that I may send him an Account by my Servant,
+if he is to be found in that City? Pretty hearty, (return’d _Lewis_) if
+the Wounds your adorable Daughter here has given me, do not prove more
+fatal than my Friend’s your Son’s. She blush’d, and he persu’d, My
+Servant has sent for the best Physician and Surgeon in all these Parts;
+I expect them every Minute, and then I shall be rightly inform’d in the
+State of my Body. I will defer my Messenger ’till then (said Sir
+_Henry_.) I will leave that to your Discretion, Sir, (return’d
+_Constance_.) As they were discoursing of ’em, in came the learned Sons
+of Art: The Surgeon prob’d his Wound afresh, which he found very large,
+but not mortal, his Loss of Blood being the most dangerous of all his
+Circumstances. The Country-_Æsculapius_ approv’d of his first Intention,
+and of his Application; so dressing it once himself, he left the Cure of
+Health to the Physician, who prescrib’d some particular Remedy against
+Fevers, and a Cordial or two; took his Fee without any Scruples, as the
+Surgeon had done before, and then took both their Leaves. Sir _Henry_
+was as joyful as _Lewis’s_ Sister, or as his own Daughter _Lucretia_,
+who lov’d him perfectly, to hear the Wound was not mortal; and
+immediately dispatch’d a Man and Horse to _Bristol_, in Search of his
+Son: The Messenger return’d in a short Time with this Account only, that
+such a kind of a Gentleman and his Servant took Shipping the Day before,
+as ’twas suppos’d, for _London_. This put the old Gentleman into a
+perfect Frenzy. He ask’d the Fellow, Why the Devil he did not give his
+Son the Letter he sent to him? Why he did not tell him, that his poor
+old forsaken Father would receive him with all the Tenderness of an
+indulgent Parent? And why he did not assure his Son, from him, that on
+his Return, he should be bless’d with the Lady _Diana_? And a thousand
+other extravagant Questions, which no body could reply to any better
+than the Messenger, who told him, trembling; First, That he could not
+deliver the Letter to his Son, because he could not find him: And
+Secondly and Lastly, being an Answer in full to all his Demands, That he
+could not, nor durst tell the young Gentleman any of those kind Things,
+since he had no Order to do so; nor could he enter into his Worship’s
+Heart, to know his Thoughts: Which Return, tho’ it was reasonable
+enough, and might have been satisfactory to any other Man in better
+Circumstances of Mind; so enrag’d Sir _Henry_, that he had certainly
+kill’d the poor Slave, had not the Fellow sav’d his Life by jumping down
+almost half the Stairs, and continuing his Flight, Sir _Henry_ still
+persuing him, ’till he came to the Stables, where finding the Door open,
+Sir _Henry_ ran in and saddl’d his Horse his own self, without staying
+for any Attendant, or so much as taking his Leave of the Wounded
+Gentleman, or Ladies, or giving Orders to his Daughter when she should
+follow him Home, whither he was posting alone; but the Servant who came
+out with him, accidentally seeing him as he rode out at the farthest
+Gate, so timely persu’d him, that he overtook him about a Mile and half
+off the House. Home they got then in less than three Hours Time, without
+one Word or Syllable all the Way on either Side, unless now and then a
+hearty Sigh or Groan from the afflicted Father, whose Passion was so
+violent, and had so disorder’d him, that he was constrain’d immediately
+to go to Bed, where he was seiz’d with a dangerous Fever, which was
+attended with a strange _Delirium_, or rather with an absolute Madness,
+of which the Lady _Lucretia_ had Advice that same Night, tho’ very late.
+This News so surpriz’d and afflicted her, as well for the Danger of her
+Lover as of her Father, that it threw her into a Swoon; out of which,
+when, with some Difficulty she was recover’d, with great Perplexity and
+Anguish of Mind she took a sad Farewel of the Lady _Diana_, but durst
+not be seen by her Brother on such an Occasion, as of taking Leave, lest
+it should retard his Recovery: To her Father’s then she was convey’d
+with all convenient Expedition: The old Gentleman was so assiduously and
+lawfully attended by his fair affectionate Daughter, that in less than
+ten Days Time his Fever was much abated, and his _Delirium_ had quite
+left him, and he knew every Body about him perfectly; only the Thoughts
+of his Son, by Fits, would choak and discompose him: However, he was
+very sensible of his Daughter’s Piety in her Care of him, which was no
+little Comfort to him: Nor, indeed, could he be otherwise than sensible
+of it by her Looks, which were then pale and thin, by over-watching;
+which occasion’d her Sickness, as it caus’d her Father’s Health: For no
+sooner could Sir _Henry_ walk about the Room, than she was forc’d to
+keep her Bed; being afflicted with the same Distemper from which her
+Father was yet but hardly freed: Her Fever was high, but the _Delirium_
+was not so great: In which, yet, she should often discover her Passion
+for _Lewis Constance_, her wounded Lover; lamenting the great Danger his
+Life had been in, as if she had not receiv’d daily Letters of his
+Amendment. Then again, she would complain of her Brother’s Absence, but
+more frequently of her Lover’s; which her Father hearing, sent to invite
+him to come to her, with his Sister, as soon as young _Constance_ was
+able to undertake the Journey; which he did the very next Day; and he
+and _Diana_ gave the languishing Lady a Visit in her Chamber, just in
+the happy Time of an Interval, which, ’tis suppos’d, was the sole Cause
+of her Recovery; for the Sight of her Lover and Friend was better than
+the richest Cordial in her Distemper. In a very short Time she left her
+Bed, when Sir _Henry_, to give her perfect Health, himself join’d the
+two Lovers Hands; and not many Weeks after, when her Beauty and Strength
+return’d in their wonted Vigour, he gave her 10000_l._ and his Blessing,
+which was a double Portion, on their Wedding-Day, which he celebrated
+with all the Cost and Mirth that his Estate and Sorrow would permit:
+Sorrow for the Loss of his Son, I mean, which still hung upon him, and
+still hover’d and croak’d over and about him, as Ravens, and other Birds
+of Prey, about Camps and dying People. His Melancholy, in few Months,
+increas’d to that Degree, that all Company and Conversation was odious
+to him, but that of Bats, Owls, Night-Ravens, _&c._ Nay, even his
+Daughter, his dear and only Child, as he imagin’d, was industriously
+avoided by him. In short, it got so intire a Mastery of him, that he
+would not nor did receive any Sustenance for many Days together; and at
+last it confin’d him to his Bed; where he lay wilfully speechless for
+two Days and Nights; his Son-in-Law, or his own Daughter, still
+attending a-Nights by Turns; when on the third Night, his _Lucretia_
+sitting close by him in Tears, he fetch’d a deep Sigh, which ended in a
+pitious Groan, and call’d faintly, _Lucretia! Lucretia!_ The Lady being
+then almost as melancholy as her Father, did not hear him ’till the
+third Call; when falling on her Knees, and embracing his Hand, which he
+held out to her, she return’d with Tears then gushing out, Yes, Sir, it
+is I, your _Lucretia_, your dutiful, obedient, and affectionate
+_Lucretia_, and most sorrowfully-afflicted Daughter. Bless her, Heaven!
+(said the Father) I’m going now, (continu’d he weakly) O _Miles_! yet
+come and take thy last Farewel of thy dear Father! Art thou for ever
+gone from me? Wilt thou not come and take thy dying Father’s Blessing?
+Then I will send it after thee. Bless him! O Heaven! Bless him! Sweet
+Heaven bless my Son! My _Miles_! Here he began to faulter in his Speech,
+when the Lady gave a great Shriek, which wak’d and alarm’d her Husband,
+who ran down to ’em in his Night-Gown, and, kneeling by the Bed-side
+with his Lady, begg’d their departing Father’s Blessing on them. The
+Shriek had (it seems) recall’d the dying Gentleman’s fleeting Spirits,
+who moving his Hand as well as he could, with Eyes lifted up, as it
+were, whisper’d, Heaven bless you both! Bless me! Bless my--O _Miles_!
+Then dy’d. His Death (no Doubt) was attended with the Sighs, Tears, and
+unfeign’d Lamentations of the Lady and her Husband; for, bating his
+sudden Passion, he was certainly as good a Father, Friend, and
+Neighbour, as _England_ could boast. His Funeral was celebrated then
+with all the Ceremonies due to his Quality and Estate: And the young
+happy Couple felt their dying Parent’s Blessing in their mutual Love and
+uninterrupted Tranquillity: Whilst (alas) it yet far’d otherwise with
+their Brother; of whose Fortune it is fit I should now give you an
+Account.
+
+From _Bristol_ he arriv’d to _London_ with his Servant _Goodlad_; to
+whom he propos’d, either that he should return to Sir _Henry_, or share
+in his Fortunes Abroad: The faithful Servant told him, he would rather
+be unhappy in his Service, than quit it for a large Estate. To which his
+kind Master return’d, (embracing him) No more my Servant now, but my
+Friend! No more _Goodlad_, but _Truelove_! And I am--_Lostall_! ’Tis a
+very proper Name, suitable to my wretched Circumstances. So after some
+farther Discourse on their Design, they sold their Horses, took
+Shipping, and went for _Germany_, where then was the Seat of War.
+
+_Miles’s_ Person and Address soon recommended him to the chief Officers
+in the Army; and his Friend _Truelove_ was very well accepted with ’em.
+They both then mounted in the same Regiment and Company, as Volunteers;
+and in the first Battel behav’d themselves like brave _English_-men;
+especially _Miles_, whom now we must call Mr. _Lostall_, who signaliz’d
+himself that Day so much, that his Captain and Lieutenant being kill’d,
+he succeeded to the former in the Command of the Company, and _Truelove_
+was made his Lieutenant. The next Field-Fight _Truelove_ was kill’d, and
+_Lostall_ much wounded, after he had sufficiently reveng’d his Friend’s
+Death by the Slaughter of many of the Enemies. Here it was that his
+Bravery was so particular, that he was courted by the Lieutenant-General
+to accept of the Command of a Troop of Horse; which gave him fresh and
+continu’d Occasions of manifesting his Courage and Conduct. All this
+while he liv’d too generously for his Pay; so that in the three or four
+Years Time, the War ceasing, he was oblig’d to make use of what Jewels
+and Money he had left of his own, for his Pay was quite spent. But at
+last his whole Fund being exhausted to about fifty or threescore Pounds,
+he began to have Thoughts of returning to his native Country, _England_;
+which in a few Weeks he did, and appear’d at the _Tower_ to some of his
+Majesty’s (King _Charles_ the Second’s) Officers, in a very plain and
+coarse, but clean and decent Habit: To one of these Officers he
+address’d himself, and desir’d to mount his Guards under his Command,
+and in his Company; who very readily receiv’d him into Pay. (The Royal
+Family had not then been restor’d much above a Twelve-Month.) In this
+Post, his Behaviour was such, that he was generally belov’d both by the
+Officers and private Soldiers, most punctually and exactly doing his
+Duty; and when he was off the Guard, he would employ himself in any
+laborious Way whatsoever to get a little Money. And it happen’d, that
+one Afternoon, as he was helping to clean the _Tower_ Ditch, (for he
+refus’d not to do the meanest Office, in Hopes to expiate his Crime by
+such voluntary Penances) a Gentleman, very richly dress’d, coming that
+Way, saw him at Work; and taking particular Notice of him, thought he
+should know that Face of his, though some of the Lines had been struck
+out by a Scar or two: And regarding him more earnestly, he was at last
+fully confirm’d, that he was the Man he thought him; which made him say
+to the Soldier, Prithee, Friend, What art thou doing there? The unhappy
+Gentleman return’d, in his Country Dialect, Why, Master, Cham helping to
+clear the _Tower_ Ditch, zure, an’t please you. ’Tis very hot, (said
+t’other) Art thou not a dry? Could’st thou not drink? Ay, Master,
+reply’d the Soldier, with all my Heart. Well, (said the Gentleman) I’ll
+give thee a Flaggon or two; Where is the best Drink? At yonder House,
+Master, (answer’d the Soldier) where you see yon Soldier at the Door,
+there be the best Drink and the best Measure, zure: Chil woit a top o
+your Worship az Zoon as you be got thare. I’ll take thy Word, said
+t’other, and went directly to the Place; where he had hardly sate down,
+and call’d for some Drink, e’er the Soldier came in, to whom the
+Gentleman gave one Pot, and drank to him out of another. _Lostall_, that
+was the Soldier, whipp’d off his Flaggon, and said, bowing, Well,
+Master, God bless your Worship! Ich can but love and thank you, and was
+going; but the Gentleman, who had farther Business with him, with some
+Difficulty prevail’d on him to sit down, for a Minute or two, after the
+Soldier had urg’d that he must mind his Business, for he had yet half a
+Day’s Work almost to complete, and he would not wrong any Body of a
+Quarter of an Hour’s Labour for all the World. Th’art a very honest
+Fellow, I believe, said his Friend; but prithee what does thy whole
+Day’s Work come to? Eighteen-pence, reply’d _Lostall_: Look, there ’tis
+for thee, said the Gentleman. Ay; but an’t like your Worship, who must
+make an End of my Day’s Business? (the Soldier ask’d.) Get any Body else
+to do it for thee, and I’ll pay him. Can’st prevail with one of thy
+Fellow-Soldiers to be so kind? Yes, Master, thank God, cham not so ill
+belov’d nother. Here’s honest _Frank_ will do so much vor me, Zure: Wilt
+not, _Frank_? (withal my Heart, _Tom_, reply’d his Comrade.) Here,
+Friend, (said _Lostall’s_ new Acquaintance) here’s Eighteen-pence for
+thee too. I thank your Honour, return’d the Soldier, but should have but
+Nine-pence. No Matter what thou should’st have, I’ll give thee no less,
+said the strange Gentleman. Heavens bless your Honour! (cry’d the
+Soldier) and after he had swigg’d off a Pot of good Drink, took
+_Lostall’s_ Pick-ax and Spade, and went about his Business. Now (said
+the Stranger) let us go and take a Glass of Wine, if there be any that
+is good hereabouts, for I fancy thou’rt a mighty honest Fellow; and I
+like thy Company mainly. Cham very much bound to behold you, Master,
+(return’d _Lostall_) and chave a Fancy that you be and a
+_West_-Country-Man, zure; (added he) you do a take zo like en; vor
+_Mainly_ be our Country Word, zure. We’ll talk more of that by and by,
+said t’other: Mean while I’ll discharge the House, and walk whither thou
+wilt lead me. That shan’t be var, zure; (return’d _Lostall_) vor the
+_Gun_ upon the Hill there, has the best Report for Wine and Zeck Ale
+hereabouts. There they arriv’d then in a little Time, got a Room to
+themselves, and had better Wine than the Gentleman expected. After a
+Glass or two a-piece, his unknown Friend ask’d _Lostall_ what
+Country-Man he was? To whom the Soldier reply’d, That he was a
+_Zomerzetshire_ Man, zure. Did’st thou never hear then of one Sir _Henry
+Hardyman_? (the Stranger ask’d.) Hier of’n! (cry’d t’other) yes, zure;
+chave a zeen ’en often. Ah! Zure my Mother and I have had many a
+zwindging Pitcher of good Drink, and many a good Piece of Meat at his
+House. Humh! (cry’d the Gentleman) It seems your Mother and you knew
+him, then? Ay, zure, mainly well; ich mean, by zight, mainly well, by
+zight. They had a great deal of farther Discourse, which lasted near two
+Hours; in which Time the Gentleman had the Opportunity to be fully
+assur’d, that this was _Miles Hardyman_, for whom he took him at first.
+At that first Conference, _Miles_ told him his Name was honest _Tom
+Lostall_; and that he had been a Souldier about five Years; having first
+obtain’d the Dignity of a Serjeant, and afterward had the Honour to be a
+Trooper, which was the greatest Post of Honour that he could boast of.
+At last, his new Friend ask’d _Miles_, if he should see him there at
+Three in the Afternoon the next Day? _Miles_ return’d, That he should be
+at his Post upon Duty then; and that without Leave from his Lieutenant,
+who then would command the Guards at the _Tower_, he could not stir a
+Foot with him. His Friend return’d, That he would endeavour to get Leave
+for him for an Hour or two: After which they drank off their Wine; the
+Gentleman pay’d the Reckoning, and gave _Miles_ a Broad piece to drink
+more Wine ’till he came, if he pleas’d, and then parted ’till the next
+Day. When his Friend was gone, _Miles_ had the Opportunity of reflecting
+on that Day’s Adventure. He thought he had seen the Gentleman’s Face,
+and heard his Voice, but where, and upon what Occasion, he could not
+imagine; but he was in Hopes, that on a second Interview, he might
+recollect himself where it was he had seen him. ’Twas exactly Three
+a-Clock the next Afternoon, when his Friend came in his own
+Mourning-Coach, accompany’d by another, who look’d like a Gentleman,
+though he wore no Sword. His Friend was attended by two of his own
+Foot-men in black Liveries. _Miles_ was at his Post, when his Friend
+ask’d where the Officer of the Guard was? The Soldier reply’d, That he
+was at the _Gun_. The Gentleman went directly to the Lieutenant, and
+desir’d the Liberty of an Hour or two for _Miles_, then _Tom Lostall_,
+to take a Glass of Wine with him: The Lieutenant return’d, That he might
+keep him a Week or two, if he pleas’d, and he would excuse him; for
+(added he) there is not a more obedient nor better Soldier than _Tom_
+was in the whole Regiment; and that he believ’d he was as brave as
+obedient. The Gentleman reply’d, That he was very happy to hear so good
+a Character of him; and having obtain’d Leave for his Friend, made his
+Compliment, and return’d, to take _Miles_ along with him: When he came
+to the trusty Centinel, he commanded the Boot to be let down, and
+desir’d _Miles_ to come into the Coach, telling him, That the Officer
+had given him Leave. Ah! Sir, (return’d _Miles_) altho’ he has,
+I cannot, nor will quit my Post, ’till I am reliev’d by a Corporal; on
+which, without any more Words, the Gentleman once more went to the
+Lieutenant, and told him what the Soldier’s Answer was. The Officer
+smil’d, and reply’d, That he had forgot to send a Corporal with him,
+e’er he was got out o’ Sight, and begg’d the Gentleman’s Pardon that he
+had given him a second Trouble. Then immediately calling for a Corporal,
+he dispatch’d him with the Gentleman to relieve _Miles_, who then, with
+some little Difficulty, was prevail’d on to step into the Coach, which
+carry’d ’em into some Tavern or other in _Leadenhall-street_; where,
+after a Bottle or two, his Friend told _Miles_, that the Gentleman who
+came with him in the Coach, had some Business with him in another Room.
+_Miles_ was surpriz’d at that, and look’d earnestly on his Friend’s
+Companion; and seeing he had no Sword, pull’d off his own, and walk’d
+with him into the next Room; where he ask’d the Stranger, What Business
+he had with him? To which the other reply’d, That he must take Measure
+of him. How! (cry’d _Miles_) take Measure of me? That need not be; for I
+can tell how tall I am. I am (continu’d he) six Foot and two Inches
+high. I believe as much (said t’other.) But, Sir, I am a Taylor, and
+must take Measure of you to make a Suit of Cloaths or two for you; or
+half a Dozen, if you please. Pray, good Mr. Taylor (said _Miles_) don’t
+mock me; for tho’ cham a poor Fellow, yet cham no Vool zure. I don’t,
+indeed, Sir, reply’d t’other. Why, who shall pay for ’em? Your Friend,
+the Gentleman in the next Room: I’ll take his Word for a thousand
+Pounds, and more; and he has already promis’d to be my Pay-Master for as
+many Suits as you shall bespeak, and of what Price you please. Ah! mary,
+(cry’d _Miles_) he is a Right Worshipful Gentleman; and ich caunt but
+love ’n and thank ’n. The Taylor then took Measure of him, and they
+return’d to the Gentleman; who, after a Bottle or two a-piece, ask’d
+_Miles_ when he should mount the Guard next? _Miles_ told him four Days
+thence, and he should be posted in the same Place, and that his Captain
+would then command the Guard, who was a very noble Captain, and a good
+Officer. His Friend, who then had no farther Business with _Miles_ at
+that Time, once more parted with him, ’till Three a-Clock the next
+Saturday; when he return’d, and ask’d if the Captain were at the _Gun_,
+or no? _Miles_ assur’d him he was. His Friend then went down directly to
+the Tavern, where he found the Captain, the Lieutenant, and Ensign; upon
+his Address the Captain most readily gave his Consent that _Miles_ might
+stay with him a Month, if he would; and added many Things in Praise of
+his trusty and dutiful Soldier. The Gentleman then farther entreated,
+that he might have the Liberty to give him and the other Officers a
+Supper that Night; and that they would permit their poor Soldier, _Tom
+Lostall_, the Honour to eat with ’em there. To the first, the Captain
+and the rest seem’d something averse; but to the last they all readily
+agreed; and at length the Gentleman’s Importunity prevail’d on ’em to
+accept his Kindness, he urging that it was in Acknowledgment of all
+those Favours they had plac’d on his Friend _Tom_. With his pleasing
+Success he came to _Miles_, not forgetting then to take a Corporal with
+him. At this second Invitation into the Coach, _Miles_ did not use much
+Ceremony, but stepp’d in, and would have sate over against the
+Gentleman, by the Gentleman-Taylor; but his Friend oblig’d him to sit on
+the same Seat with him. They came then again to their old Tavern in
+_Leadenhall-street_, and were shew’d into a large Room; where they had
+not been above six Minutes, e’er the Gentleman’s Servants, and another,
+who belong’d to Monsieur Taylor, brought two or three large Bags; out of
+one they took Shirts, half Shirts, Bands, and Stockings; out of another,
+a Mourning-Suit; out of a third, a Mourning Cloak, Hat, and a large
+Hatband, with black Cloth-Shoes; and one of the Gentleman’s Servants
+laid down a Mourning Sword and Belt on the Table: _Miles_ was amaz’d at
+the Sight of all these Things, and kept his Eyes fix’d on ’em, ’till his
+Friend cry’d, Come, _Tom_! Put on your Linnen first! Here! (continu’d he
+to his Servant) Bid ’em light some Faggots here! For, tho’ ’tis Summer,
+the Linnen may want Airing, and there may be some ugly cold Vapours
+about the Room, which a good Fire will draw away. _Miles_ was still in a
+Maze! But the Fire being well kindled, the Gentleman himself took a
+Shirt, and air’d it; commanding one of his Servants to help _Tom_ to
+undress. _Miles_ was strangely out o’ Countenance at this, and told his
+Friend, that he was of Age and Ability to pull off his own Cloaths; that
+he never us’d to have any _Valets de Chambre_; (as they call’d ’em) and
+for his Part, he was asham’d, and sorry that so worshipful a Gentleman
+should take the Trouble to warm a Shirt for him. Besides (added he)
+chave Heat enough (zure) to warm my Shirt. In short, he put on his
+Shirt, half Shirt, his Cloaths and all Appurtenances, as modishly as the
+best _Valet de Chambre_ in _Paris_ could. When _Miles_ was dress’d, his
+Friend told him, That he believ’d he look’d then more like himself than
+ever he had done since his Return to _England_. Ah! Noble Sir! said
+_Miles_. _Vine Feathers make vine Birds._ But pray, Sir, Why must I wear
+Mourning? Because there is a particular Friend of mine dead, for whose
+Loss I can never sufficiently mourn my self; and therefore I desire that
+all whom I love should mourn with me for him, return’d the Gentleman;
+not but that there are three other Suits in Hand for you at this Time.
+_Miles_ began then to suspect something of his Father’s Death, which had
+like to have made him betray his Grief at his Eyes; which his Friend
+perceiving, took him by the Hand, and said, Here, my dear Friend! To the
+Memory of my departed Friend! You are so very like what he was,
+considering your Difference in Years, that I can’t choose but love you
+next to my Wife and my own Sister. Ah! Sir! (said he, and lapping his
+Handkerchief to his Eyes) How can I deserve this of you? I have told you
+(reply’d t’other.) But--Come! Take your Glass, and about with it! He did
+so; and they were indifferently pleasant, the Subject of Discourse being
+chang’d, ’till about a quarter after Five; when the Gentleman call’d to
+pay, and took Coach with _Miles_ only, for the _Gun-Tavern_; where he
+order’d a very noble Supper to be got ready with all Expedition; mean
+while they entertain’d one another, in a Room as distant from the
+Officers as the House would permit: _Miles_ relating to his new Friend
+all his Misfortunes Abroad, but still disguising the true Occasion of
+his leaving _England_. Something more than an Hour after, one of the
+Drawers came to let ’em know, that Supper was just going to be serv’d
+up. They went then directly to the Officers, whom they found all
+together, with two or three Gentlemen more of their Acquaintance: They
+all saluted the Gentleman who had invited ’em first, and then
+complimented _Miles_, whom they mistook for another Friend of the
+Gentleman’s that gave ’em the Invitation; not in the least imagining
+that it was _Tom Lostall_. When they were all sat, the Captain ask’d,
+Where is our trusty and well-beloved Friend Mr. _Thomas Lostall_? Most
+honoured Captain! (reply’d _Miles_) I am here, most humbly at your
+Honour’s Service, and all my other noble Officers. Ha! _Tom_! (cry’d the
+Lieutenant) I thought indeed when thou first cam’st in, that I should
+have seen that hardy Face of thine before. Face, Hands, Body, and Heart
+and all, are at your, all your Honours Service, as long as I live. We
+doubt it not, dear _Tom_! (return’d his Officers, unanimously.) Come,
+noble Gentlemen! (interrupted _Miles’s_ Friend) Supper is here, let us
+fall to: I doubt not that after Supper I shall surprise you farther.
+They then fell to eating heartily; and after the Table was clear’d they
+drank merrily: At last, after the King’s, Queen’s, Duke’s, and all the
+Royal Family’s, and the Officers Healths, his Friend begg’d that he
+might begin a Health to _Tom Lostall_; which was carry’d about very
+heartily; every one had a good Word for him, one commending his Bravery,
+another, his ready Obedience; and a third, his Knowledge in material
+Discipline, _&c._ ’till at length it grew late, their Stomachs grew
+heavy, and their Heads light; when the Gentleman, _Miles’s_ Friend,
+calling for a Bill, he found it amounted to seven Pounds ten Shillings,
+odd Pence, which he whisper’d _Tom Lostall_ to pay; who was in a Manner
+Thunder-struck at so strange a Sound; but, recollecting himself, he
+return’d, That if his Friend pleas’d, he would leave his Cloak, and any
+Thing else, ’till the House were farther satisfy’d: T’other said, He was
+sure _Miles_ had Money enough about him to discharge two such Bills: To
+which _Miles_ reply’d, That if he had any Money about him, ’twas none of
+his own, and that ’twas certainly conjur’d into his Pockets. No Matter
+how it came there (said t’other;) but you have above twenty Pounds about
+you of your own Money: Pray feel. _Miles_ then felt, and pull’d out as
+much Silver as he could grasp, and laid it down on the Table. Hang this
+white Pelf; (cry’d his Friend) pay it in Gold, like your self, Come,
+apply your Hand to another Pocket: He did so, and brought out as many
+Broad-Pieces as Hand could hold. Now (continu’d his Friend) give the
+Waiter eight of ’em, and let him take the Overplus for his Attendance.
+_Miles_ readily obey’d, and they were _Very Welcome, Gentlemen_.
+
+Now, honoured Captain, (said his Friend) and you, Gentlemen, his other
+worthy Officers, be pleas’d to receive your Soldier, as Sir _Miles
+Hardyman_, Bar., Son to the late Sir _Henry Hardyman_ of
+_Somersetshire_, my dear and honoured Brother-in-Law: Who is
+certainly--the most unhappy Wretch crawling on Earth! (interrupted
+_Miles_) O just Heaven! (persu’d he) How have I been rack’d in my Soul
+ever since the Impious Vow I made, that I never would see my dearest
+Father more! This is neither a Time nor Place to vent your Sorrows, my
+dearest Brother! (said his Friend, tenderly embracing him.) I have
+something now more material than your Expressions of Grief can be here,
+since your honoured Father has been dead these five Years almost:--Which
+is to let you know, that you are now Master of four thousand Pounds a
+Year; and if you will forgive me two Years Revenue, I will refund the
+rest, and put you into immediate and quiet Possession; which I promise
+before all this worthy and honourable Company. To which _Miles_
+return’d, That he did not deserve to inherit one Foot of his Father’s
+Lands, tho’ they were entail’d on him, since he had been so strangely
+undutiful; and that he rather thought his Friend ought to enjoy it all
+in Right of his Sister, who never offended his Father in the whole
+Course of her Life:--But, I beseech you, Sir, (continu’d he to his
+Friend) how long is it since I have been so happy in so good and
+generous a Brother-in-Law? Some Months before Sir _Henry_ our Father
+dy’d, who gave us his latest Blessing, except that which his last Breath
+bequeath’d and sigh’d after you. O undutiful and ungrateful Villain that
+I am, to so kind, and so indulgent, and so merciful a Father: (cry’d
+_Miles_) But Heaven, I fear, has farther Punishments in Store for so
+profligate a Wretch and so disobedient a Son.--But your Name, Sir, if
+you please? (persu’d he to his Brother) I am _Lewis Constance_, whom
+once you unhappily mistook for your Rival. Unhappily, indeed: (return’d
+_Miles_) I thought I had seen you before. Ay, Sir, (return’d
+_Constance_) but you could never think to have seen me again, when you
+wounded and left me for dead, within a Mile of my House. O! thou art
+brave, (cry’d his Brother, embracing him affectionately) ’tis too much
+Happiness, for such a Reprobate to find so true a Friend and so just a
+Brother. This, this does in some Measure compensate for the Loss of so
+dear a Father.--Take, take all, my Brother! (persu’d he, kissing
+_Lewis’s_ Cheek) Take all thou hast receiv’d of what is call’d mine, and
+share my whole Estate with me: But pardon me, I beseech you my most
+honour’d Officers, and all you Gentlemen here present, (continu’d he to
+the whole Company, who sate silent and gazing at one another, on the
+Occasion of so unusual an Adventure) pardon the Effects of Grief and Joy
+in a distracted Creature! O, Sir _Miles_, (cry’d his Captain) we grieve
+for your Misfortune, and rejoice at your Happiness in so noble a Friend
+and so just a Brother. _Miles_ then went on, and gave the Company a full
+but short Account of the Occasion of all his Troubles, and of all his
+Accidents he met with both Abroad and at Home, to the first Day that
+_Constance_ saw him digging in the _Tower_-Ditch. About one that
+Morning, which preceded that Afternoon (persu’d he) whereon I saw my
+dear Brother here, then a Stranger to me, I dream’d I saw my Father at a
+Distance, and heard him calling to me to quit my honourable Employment
+in his Majesty’s Service: This (my Thought) he repeated seven or nine
+Times, I know not which; but I was so disturb’d at it, that I began to
+wake, and with my Eyes but half open was preparing to rise; when I
+fancy’d I felt a cold Hand take me by the Hand, and force me on my hard
+Bolster again, with these Words, take thy Rest, _Miles_! This I confess
+did somewhat surprize me; but I concluded, ’twas the Effect of my
+Melancholy, which, indeed, has held me ever since I last left _England_:
+I therefore resolutely started up, and jump’d out of Bed, designing to
+leave you, and sit up with my Fellow-Soldiers on the Guard; but just
+then I heard the Watchman cry, _Past one a Clock and a Star-light
+Morning_; when, considering that I was to be at Work in the Ditch by
+four a Clock, I went to Bed again, and slumber’d, doz’d, and dream’d,
+’til Four; ever when I turn’d me, still hearing, as I foolishly
+imagin’d, my Father crying to me, _Miles_! Sleep, my _Miles_! Go not to
+that nasty Place, nor do such servile Offices! tho’ thou dost, I’ll have
+thee out this Day, nay, I will pull thee out: And then I foolishly
+imagin’d, that the same cold Hand pull’d me out of the Ditch; and being
+in less than a Minute’s Time perfectly awake, I found my self on my Feet
+in the Middle of the Room; I soon put on my Cloaths then, and went to my
+Labour. Were you thus disturb’d when you were Abroad? (the Captain
+ask’d) O worse, Sir, (answer’d _Miles_) especially on a Tuesday Night,
+a little after One, being the Twelth of _November_, New Style, I was
+wak’d by a Voice, which (methought) cry’d, _Miles_, _Miles_, _Miles!_
+Get hence, go Home, go to _England_! I was startled at it, but regarded
+it only as proceeding from my going to Sleep with a full Stomach, and so
+endeavour’d to sleep again, which I did, till a second Time it rouz’d
+me, with _Miles_ twice repeated,--hazard not thy Life here in a foreign
+Service! Home! to _England_! to _England_! to _England_! This disturb’d
+me much more than at first; but, after I had lay’n awake near half an
+Hour, and heard nothing of it all that Time, I assur’d my self ’twas
+nothing but a Dream, and so once more address’d my self to Sleep, which
+I enjoy’d without Interruption for above two Hours; when I was the third
+Time alarm’d, and that with a louder Voice, which cry’d, as twice
+before, _Miles!_ _Miles!_ _Miles!_ _Miles!_ Go Home! Go to _England_!
+Hazard not thy Soul here! At which I started up, and with a faultering
+Speech, and Eyes half sear’d together, I cry’d, In the Name of Heaven,
+who calls? Thy Father, _Miles_: Go Home! Go Home! Go Home! (it said.)
+O then I knew, I mean, I thought I knew it was my Father’s Voice; and
+turning to the Bed-Side, from whence the Sound proceeded, I saw, these
+Eyes then open, these very Eyes, at least, my Soul saw my Father, my own
+dear Father, lifting up his joined Hands, as if he begg’d me to return
+to _England_. I saw him beg it of me.--O Heaven! The Father begs it of
+the Son! O obstinate, rebellious, cruel, unnatural, barbarous, inhuman
+Son! Why did not I go Home then! Why did I not from that Moment begin my
+Journey to _England_? But I hope, e’er long, I shall begin a better.
+Here his o’ercharg’d Heart found some little Relief at his Eyes, and
+they confess’d his Mother: But he soon resum’d the Man, and then
+_Constance_ said, Did you ne’er dream of your Sister, Sir? Yes, often,
+Brother, (return’d _Miles_) but then most particularly, before e’er I
+heard the first Call of the Voice; when (my Thought) I saw her in Tears
+by my Bed Side, kneeling with a Gentleman, whom I thought I had once
+seen; but knew him not then, tho’, now I recal my Dream, the Face was
+exactly yours. ’Twas I, indeed, Sir, (return’d _Lewis_) who bore her
+Company, with Tears, at your Father’s Bed-Side; and at twelve a Clock at
+Night your Father dy’d. But come, Sir, (persu’d he) ’tis now near twelve
+a Clock, and there is Company waits for you at Home, at my House here in
+Town; I humbly beg the Captain’s Leave, that I may rob ’em of so dutiful
+a Soldier for a Week or two. Sir, (return’d the Captain) Sir _Miles_
+knows how to command himself, and may command us when he pleases.
+Captain, Lieutenant, and Ensign, (reply’d Sir _Miles_) I am, and ever
+will continue, during Life, your most dutiful Soldier, and your most
+obedient and humble Servant. Thus they parted.
+
+As soon as _Constance_ was got within Doors, his Lady and Sir _Miles’s_
+Sister, who both did expect him that Night, came running into the Hall
+to welcome him? his Sister embrac’d and kiss’d him twenty and twenty
+Times again, dropping Tears of Joy and Grief, whilst his Mistress stood
+a little Distance, weeping sincerely for Joy to see her Love return’d:
+But long he did not suffer her in that Posture; for, breaking from his
+Sister’s tender Embraces, with a seasonable Compliment he ran to his
+Mistress, and kneeling, kiss’d her Hand, when she was going to kneel to
+him; which he perceiving, started up and took her in his Arms, and
+there, it may be presum’d, they kiss’d and talk’d prettily; ’till her
+Brother perswaded ’em to retire into the Parlour, where he propos’d to
+’em that they should marry on the very next morning; and accordingly
+they were, after _Lewis_ had deliver’d all Sir _Henry’s_ Estate to Sir
+_Miles_, and given him Bills on his Banker for the Payment of ten
+thousand Pounds, being the Moiety of Sir _Miles’s_ Revenue for five
+Years. Before they went to Church, Sir _Miles_, who then had on a rich
+bridal Suit, borrow’d his Brother’s best Coach, and both he and _Lewis_
+went and fetch’d the Captain, Lieutenant, and Ensign, to be Witnesses of
+their Marriage. The Captain gave the Bride, and afterwards they feasted
+and laugh’d heartily, ’till Twelve at Night, when the Bride was put to
+Bed; and there was not a Officer of ’em all, who would not have been
+glad to have gone to Bed to her; but Sir _Miles_ better supply’d their
+Places.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unhappy Mistake.
+
+
+p. 477 _the Jack_. The small bowl placed as a mark for the players to
+aim at. cf. _Cymbeline_ II, i: ‘Was there ever man had such luck! when I
+kissed the jack upon an up-cast to be hit away!’
+
+p. 477 _the Block_. cf. Florio (1598). ‘_Buttino_, a maister or mistres
+of boules or coites whereat the plaiers cast or playe; some call it the
+blocke.’
+
+p. 495 _vor Mainly be our Country Word, zure_. Wright, _English Dialect
+Dictionary_, gives apposite quotations for ‘mainly’ from Gloucester,
+Wilts and Devon. He also has two quotations, Somerset and West Somerset
+for ‘main’ used adverbially. But ‘mainly’ is also quite common in that
+county.
+
+p. 495 _the Gun_. A well-known house of call. 2 June, 1668, Pepys
+‘stopped and drank at the Gun’.
+
+p. 496 _a Broad piece_. This very common name was ‘applied after the
+introduction of the guinea in 1663 to the “Unite” or 20 shilling pieces
+(Jacobus and Carolus) of the preceeding reigns, which were much broader
+and thinner than the new milled coinage.’
+
+
+
+
+  _Printed by A. H. BULLEN, at the Shakespeare Head Press,
+  Stratford-upon-Avon._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Errors and Inconsistencies (noted by transcriber)
+
+Typographical errors were corrected only when unambiguous (“Symrna”),
+or when the expected spelling occurs many times in the book. A few
+variable forms such as “handsom : handsome” are unchanged.
+
+Unless otherwise noted, quotation marks are as printed.
+
+
+_The Adventure of the Black Lady_
+
+  and order’d the Coach to drive  [orderd]
+  [Notes]
+  [_See King of Bantam, below_]
+
+_The Court of the King of Bantam_
+
+  Appearances of Virtue, which he thought  [be thought]
+  So she has (reply’d the titular Monarch):  [_close ) missing_]
+  Come, Madam (continued he, kissing _Lucy_,)  [_close ) missing_]
+  has oblig’d me beyond Imitation.’  [_close quote missing_]
+  And, (_S_) _Sim. Slyboots_.  [_no . after “S”_]
+  [Notes:
+  _The header for the “King of Bantam” notes is misprinted, placed
+  between the two notes for p. 30 instead of between pgs. 9 and 17.
+  The story begins on p. 11._]
+
+_The Unfortunate Happy Lady_
+
+  he designs to gain your Ladyship’s Assistance  [Ladship’s]
+  After she had taken her Money, and other Things of Value  [Money,and]
+  the good old Gentleman returns Home  [Gentlemen]
+  since she was assur’d, that if he marry’d her  [asssur’d]
+  he was arrested, and thrown into a Goal  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  The defeated Lovers knew not how to resent it?  [_? in original_]
+  My Cousin _Eugenia_! (cry’d _Gracelove_!)  [_! in original_]
+
+_The Fair Jilt_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  no such person as her ‘Prince Tarpuin of the race of the last Kings
+  of Rome’
+    [_obvious error uncorrected because it may be in the quoted
+    original_]
+  [Dedication]
+  at least with a feign’d Civility  [lest]
+  a sort of Coin, not currant in this Age  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  in all the finest Manners of Education  [_f in “of” obscure_]
+  ‘She complains, in her Heart  [_open quote missing_]
+  had not been sufficient of itself  [_f in “of” obscure_]
+  from whose Mouth I had it.’  [_close quote missing_]
+  Which so extremely incensed _Alcidiana_, that she  [the]
+  putting her self into the Hands of a wealthy Merchant  [wealty]
+  the other End of which was to be fastned to the Gibbet
+    [_spelling unchanged: elsewhere “fasten’d”_]
+  holy Matters relating to the Life to come  [to to come]
+  All his overjoy’d Friends  [_elsewhere “over-joy’d” with hyphen_]
+  [Note to p. 174]
+  Barbadoes  [Barbardoes]
+
+_Oroonoko; Or The Royal Slave_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  as Aphara tells her prose-epic  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  there is not to be seen an indecent Action  [it not]
+  still answer’d what they thought conduc’d best  [they they]
+  instead of giving me the comtemptible Whip  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  let him speedly dispatch me  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Notes]
+  [_The header for the “Oroonoko” notes is missing._]
+
+_Agnes De Castro_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  an aimable blue-stocking  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  if she had not perceived a Paper lying under his Hand  [see]
+  the charming Qualities of your Person  [Qualites]
+  unless expresly commanded by the Princess  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  I fear you will never approve my Passion.’  [_close quote missing_]
+  Thus this Conversation ended.  [Coversation]
+  ‘You will do for _Constantia_  [_open quote missing_]
+  will render your Memory illustrious  [yonr]
+
+_The History Of The Nun_
+
+  _Isabella de Valerie_, that rose like a new Star  [the rose]
+  he found nothing of his Industry thrive  [hs found]
+  foreseeing there was no Provision likely to be made them
+    [was a / no _at line break_]
+
+_The Nun; Or, The Perjur’d Beauty_
+
+  with out whom she had been at a Loss  [_elsewhere “without”_]
+  when she fell passionately in Love with him  [passsionately]
+
+_The Lucky Mistake_
+
+  I find the Seeds of great and profound Matter  [finds]
+  and wondred how his Stars came so kind
+    [_spelling unchanged: elsewhere “wonder’d”_]
+  she assur’d him her Father had never yet  [asur’d]
+  [Note to p. 351]
+  (... 3 Vols., 1736, 12mo)  [3 Vols, 1736]
+
+_The Unfortunate Bride_
+
+  So aimable he was  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  for ’twas that very Fondness proved his Ruin  [twas]
+
+_The Dumb Virgin_
+
+  a handsom Gentleman in a rich _English_ Dress  [Gentlemen]
+  his Voyage from _Smyrna_ to _London_  [_Symrna_]
+
+_The Unhappy Mistake_
+
+  and virtuous Education, of an indifferent Fortune  [_. for ,_]
+  which was rewarded with another piece of Money  [which which]
+  came running into the Hall to welcome him?  [_? in original_]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Works of Aphra Behn
+       Volume V
+
+Author: Aphra Behn
+
+Editor: Montague Summers
+
+Release Date: August 30, 2009 [EBook #29854]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF APHRA BEHN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Louise Hope, Wendy Bertsch and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[This e-text comes in three forms: Unicode (UTF-8), Latin-1 and ASCII-7.
+Use the one that works best on your text reader.
+
+  --If "oe" displays as a single character, and apostrophes and
+  quotation marks are "curly" or angled, you have the UTF-8 version
+  (best). If any part of this paragraph displays as garbage, try
+  changing your text reader's "character set" or "file encoding".
+  If that doesn't work, proceed to:
+  --In the Latin-1 version, "oe" is two letters, but French words like
+  "r�le" and "m�re" have accents and "�" is a single letter. Apostrophes
+  and quotation marks will be straight ("typewriter" form). Again, if
+  you see any garbage in this paragraph and can't get it to display
+  properly, use:
+  --The ASCII-7 or rock-bottom version. All necessary text will still be
+  there; it just won't be as pretty. Note that in the Introduction to
+  "Agnes de Castro", the name "Constan�a" has a cedilla and "Pe�afiel"
+  has a tilde.
+
+In the printed book, all notes were grouped at the end of the volume.
+For this e-text, they have been placed after their respective stories.
+The _Epistle Dedicatory_ to _Oroonoko_ was printed as an Appendix. In
+keeping with the editor's intention (see second paragraph of Note),
+it has been placed immediately before the novel.
+
+Where appropriate, cross-references from other volumes of the Complete
+Works are quoted after the Notes. The "N.E.D." (New English Dictionary)
+is now known as the OED.
+
+Typographic note: In the printed book, all references to plays give the
+Act in lower-case Roman numerals and the Scene in small capital Roman
+numerals; the two look identical except for the dots over the i's. For
+this plain-text version, the conventional "IV, iv" sequence was used
+instead. Italic passages used Roman type for emphasis; this is shown
+as +Name+.]
+
+
+
+
+                   THE WORKS
+
+                       of
+
+                   APHRA BEHN
+
+
+                   Edited by
+                MONTAGUE SUMMERS
+
+                     VOL. V
+
+  The Black Lady -- The King of Bantam
+  The Unfortunate Happy Lady -- The Fair Jilt
+  Oroonoko -- Agnes de Castro
+  The History of the Nun -- The Nun
+  The Lucky Mistake -- The Unfortunate Bride
+  The Dumb Virgin -- The Wandering Beauty
+  The Unhappy Mistake
+
+
+       [Illustration: (Publisher's Device)]
+
+           LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
+        STRATFORD-ON-AVON: A. H. BULLEN
+                     MCMXV
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+[See Transcriber's Note at beginning of text for handling of Notes
+and Appendix.]
+
+                                                            Page
+
+  The Adventure of the Black Lady                              1
+  The Court of the King of Bantam                             11
+  The Unfortunate Happy Lady: A True History                  35
+  The Fair Jilt                                               67
+  Oroonoko; or, The Royal Slave                              125
+  Agnes De Castro                                            209
+  The History of the Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker           257
+  The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty                           325
+  The Lucky Mistake                                          349
+  The Unfortunate Bride; or, The Blind Lady a Beauty         399
+  The Dumb Virgin; or, The Force of Imagination              415
+  The Wandering Beauty                                       445
+  The Unhappy Mistake; or, The Impious Vow Punish'd          469
+  Appendix                                                   507
+  Notes                                                      513
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE ADVENTURE OF THE _BLACK LADY_.
+
+
+About the Beginning of last _June_ (as near as I can remember)
+_Bellamora_ came to Town from _Hampshire_, and was obliged to lodge the
+first Night at the same Inn where the Stage-Coach set up. The next Day
+she took Coach for _Covent-Garden_, where she thought to find Madam
+_Brightly_, a Relation of hers, with whom she design'd to continue for
+about half a Year undiscover'd, if possible, by her Friends in the
+Country: and order'd therefore her Trunk, with her Clothes, and most of
+her Money and Jewels, to be brought after her to Madame _Brightly's_ by
+a strange Porter, whom she spoke to in the Street as she was taking
+Coach; being utterly unacquainted with the neat Practices of this fine
+City. When she came to _Bridges-Street_, where indeed her Cousin had
+lodged near three or four Years since, she was strangely surprized that
+she could not learn anything of her; no, nor so much as meet with anyone
+that had ever heard of her Cousin's Name: Till, at last, describing
+Madam _Brightly_ to one of the House-keepers in that Place, he told her,
+that there was such a kind of Lady, whom he had sometimes seen there
+about a Year and a half ago; but that he believed she was married and
+remov'd towards _Soho_. In this Perplexity she quite forgot her Trunk
+and Money, _&c_, and wander'd in her Hackney-Coach all over St. _Anne's_
+Parish; inquiring for Madam _Brightly_, still describing her Person, but
+in vain; for no Soul could give her any Tale or Tidings of such a Lady.
+After she had thus fruitlessly rambled, till she, the Coachman, and the
+very Horses were even tired, by good Fortune for her, she happen'd on a
+private House, where lived a good, discreet, ancient Gentlewoman, who
+was fallen to Decay, and forc'd to let Lodgings for the best Part of her
+Livelihood: From whom she understood, that there was such a kind of
+Lady, who had lain there somewhat more than a Twelvemonth, being near
+three Months after she was married; but that she was now gone abroad
+with the Gentleman her Husband, either to the Play, or to take the fresh
+Air; and she believ'd would not return till Night. This Discourse of the
+Good Gentlewoman's so elevated _Bellamora's_ drooping Spirits, that
+after she had beg'd the liberty of staying there till they came home,
+she discharg'd the Coachman in all haste, still forgetting her Trunk,
+and the more valuable Furniture of�it.
+
+When they were alone, _Bellamora_ desired she might be permitted the
+Freedom to send for a Pint of Sack; which, with some little Difficulty,
+was at last allow'd her. They began then to chat for a matter of half an
+Hour of things indifferent: and at length the ancient Gentlewoman ask'd
+the fair Innocent (I�must not say foolish) one, of what Country, and
+what her Name was: to both which she answer'd directly and truly, tho'
+it might have prov'd not discreetly. She then enquir'd of _Bellamora_ if
+her Parents were living, and the Occasion of her coming to Town. The
+fair unthinking Creature reply'd, that her Father and Mother were both
+dead; and that she had escap'd from her Uncle, under the pretence of
+making a Visit to a young Lady, her Cousin, who was lately married, and
+liv'd above twenty Miles from her Uncle's, in the Road to _London_, and
+that the Cause of her quitting the Country, was to avoid the hated
+Importunities of a Gentleman, whose pretended Love to her she fear'd had
+been her eternal Ruin. At which she wept and sigh'd most extravagantly.
+The discreet Gentlewoman endeavour'd to comfort her by all the softest
+and most powerful Arguments in her Capacity; promising her all the
+friendly Assistance that she could expect from her, during _Bellamora's_
+stay in Town: which she did with so much Earnestness, and visible
+Integrity, that the pretty innocent Creature was going to make her a
+full and real Discovery of her imaginary insupportable Misfortunes; and
+(doubtless) had done it, had she not been prevented by the Return of the
+Lady, whom she hop'd to have found her Cousin _Brightly_. The Gentleman,
+her Husband just saw her within Doors, and order'd the Coach to drive to
+some of his Bottle-Companions; which gave the Women the better
+Opportunity of entertaining one another, which happen'd to be with some
+Surprize on all Sides. As the Lady was going up into her Apartment, the
+Gentlewoman of the House told her there was a young Lady in the Parlour,
+who came out of the Country that very Day on purpose to visit her: The
+Lady stept immediately to see who it was, and _Bellamora_ approaching to
+receive her hop'd-for Cousin, stop'd on the sudden just as she came to
+her; and sigh'd out aloud, Ah, Madam! I�am lost--It is not your Ladyship
+I seek. No, Madam (return'd the other) I�am apt to think you did not
+intend me this Honour. But you are as welcome to me, as you could be to
+the dearest of your Acquaintance: Have you forgot me, Madame
+_Bellamora_? (continued she.) That Name startled the other: However, it
+was with a kind of Joy. Alas! Madam, (replied the young one) I�now
+remember that I have been so happy to have seen you; but where and when,
+my Memory can't tell me. 'Tis indeed some Years since, (return'd the
+Lady) But of that another time.--Mean while, if you are unprovided of a
+Lodging, I�dare undertake, you shall be welcome to this Gentlewoman. The
+Unfortunate returned her Thanks; and whilst a Chamber was preparing for
+her, the Lady entertain'd her in her own. About Ten o'Clock they parted,
+_Bellamora_ being conducted to her Lodging by the Mistress of the House,
+who then left her to take what Rest she could amidst her so many
+Misfortunes; returning to the other Lady, who desir'd her to search into
+the Cause of _Bellamora's_ Retreat to Town.
+
+The next Morning the good Gentlewoman of the House coming up to her,
+found _Bellamora_ almost drown'd in Tears, which by many kind and sweet
+Words she at last stopp'd; and asking whence so great Signs of Sorrow
+should proceed, vow'd a most profound Secrecy if she would discover to
+her their Occasion; which, after some little Reluctancy, she did, in
+this manner.
+
+I was courted (said she) above three Years ago, when my Mother was yet
+living, by one Mr. _Fondlove_, a Gentleman of good Estate, and true
+Worth; and one who, I�dare believe, did then really love me: He
+continu'd his Passion for me, with all the earnest and honest
+Sollicitations imaginable, till some Months before my Mother's Death;
+who, at that time, was most desirous to see me disposed of in Marriage
+to another Gentleman, of much better Estate than Mr. _Fondlove_; but one
+whose Person and Humour did by no means hit with my Inclinations: And
+this gave _Fondlove_ the unhappy Advantage over me. For, finding me one
+Day all alone in my Chamber, and lying on my Bed, in as mournful and
+wretched a Condition to my then foolish Apprehension, as now I am, he
+urged his Passion with such Violence, and accursed Success for me, with
+reiterated Promises of Marriage, whensoever I pleas'd to challenge 'em,
+which he bound with the most sacred Oaths, and most dreadful
+Execrations: that partly with my Aversion to the other, and partly with
+my Inclinations to pity him, I�ruin'd my self.--Here she relaps'd into a
+greater Extravagance of Grief than before; which was so extreme that it
+did not continue long. When therefore she was pretty well come to
+herself, the antient Gentlewoman ask'd her, why she imagin'd herself
+ruin'd: To which she answer'd, I�am great with Child by him, Madam, and
+wonder you did not perceive it last Night. Alas! I�have not a Month to
+go: I�am asham'd, ruin'd, and damn'd, I�fear, for ever lost. Oh! fie,
+Madam, think not so, (said the other) for the Gentleman may yet prove
+true, and marry you. Ay, Madam (replied _Bellamora_) I doubt not that he
+would marry me; for soon after my Mother's Death, when I came to be at
+my own Disposal, which happen'd about two Months after, he offer'd, nay
+most earnestly sollicited me to it, which still he perseveres to do.
+This is strange! (return'd the other) and it appears to me to be your
+own Fault, that you are yet miserable. Why did you not, or why will you
+not consent to your own Happiness? Alas! (cry'd _Bellamora_) 'tis the
+only Thing I dread in this World: For, I�am certain, he can never love
+me after. Besides, ever since I have abhorr'd the Sight of him: and this
+is the only Cause that obliges me to forsake my Uncle, and all my
+Friends and Relations in the Country, hoping in this populous and
+publick Place to be most private, especially, Madam, in your House, and
+in your Fidelity and Discretion. Of the last you may assure yourself,
+Madam, (said the other:) but what Provision have you made for the
+Reception of the young Stranger that you carry about you? Ah, Madam!
+(cryd _Bellamora_) you have brought to my Mind another Misfortune: Then
+she acquainted her with the suppos'd loss of her Money and Jewels,
+telling her withall, that she had but three Guineas and some Silver
+left, and the Rings she wore, in her present possession. The good
+Gentlewoman of the House told her, she would send to enquire at the Inn
+where she lay the first Night she came to Town; for, haply, they might
+give some Account of the Porter to whom she had entrusted her Trunk; and
+withal repeated her Promise of all the Help in her Power, and for that
+time left her much more compos'd than she found her. The good
+Gentlewoman went directly to the other Lady, her Lodger, to whom she
+recounted _Bellamora's_ mournful Confession; at which the Lady appear'd
+mightily concern'd: and at last she told her Landlady, that she would
+take Care that _Bellamora_ should lie in according to her Quality: For,
+added she, the Child, it seems, is my own Brother's.
+
+As soon as she had din'd, she went to the _Exchange_, and bought
+Child-bed Linen; but desired that _Bellamora_ might not have the least
+Notice of it: And at her return dispatch'd a Letter to her Brother
+_Fondlove_ in _Hampshire_, with an Account of every Particular; which
+soon brought him up to Town, without satisfying any of his or her
+Friends with the Reason of his sudden Departure. Mean while,
+the good Gentlewoman of the House had sent to the _Star Inn_ on
+_Fish-street-Hill_, to demand the Trunk, which she rightly suppos'd to
+have been carried back thither: For by good Luck, it was a Fellow that
+ply'd thereabouts, who brought it to _Bellamora's_ Lodgings that very
+Night, but unknown to her. _Fondlove_ no sooner got to _London_, but he
+posts to his Sister's Lodgings, where he was advis'd not to be seen of
+_Bellamora_ till they had work'd farther upon her, which the Landlady
+began in this manner; she told her that her Things were miscarried, and
+she fear'd, lost; that she had but a little Money her self, and if the
+Overseers of the Poor (justly so call'd from their over-looking 'em)
+should have the least Suspicion of a strange and unmarried Person, who
+was entertain'd in her House big with Child, and so near her Time as
+_Bellamora_ was, she should be troubled, if they could not give Security
+to the Parish of twenty or thirty Pounds, that they should not suffer by
+her, which she could not; or otherwise she must be sent to the House of
+Correction, and her Child to a Parish-Nurse. This Discourse, one may
+imagine, was very dreadful to a Person of her Youth, Beauty, Education,
+Family and Estate: However, she resolutely protested, that she had
+rather undergo all this, than be expos'd to the Scorn of her Friends and
+Relations in the Country. The other told her then, that she must write
+down to her Uncle a Farewell-Letter, as if she were just going aboard
+the Pacquet-Boat for _Holland_, that he might not send to enquire for
+her in Town, when he should understand she was not at her new-married
+Cousin's in the Country; which accordingly she did, keeping her self
+close Prisoner to her Chamber; where she was daily visited by
+_Fondlove's_ Sister and the Landlady, but by no Soul else, the first
+dissembling the Knowledge she had of her Misfortunes. Thus she continued
+for above three Weeks, not a Servant being suffer'd to enter her
+Chamber, so much as to make her Bed, lest they should take Notice of her
+great Belly: but for all this Caution, the Secret had taken Wind, by the
+means of an Attendant of the other Lady below, who had over-heard her
+speaking of it to her Husband. This soon got out of Doors, and spread
+abroad, till it reach'd the long Ears of the Wolves of the Parish, who
+next Day design'd to pay her a Visit: But _Fondlove_, by good
+Providence, prevented it; who, the Night before, was usher'd into
+_Bellamora's_ Chamber by his Sister, his Brother-in-Law, and the
+Landlady. At the Sight of him she had like to have swoon'd away: but he
+taking her in his Arms, began again, as he was wont to do, with Tears in
+his Eyes, to beg that she would marry him ere she was deliver'd; if not
+for his, nor her own, yet for the Child's Sake, which she hourly
+expected; that it might not be born out of Wedlock, and so be made
+uncapable of inheriting either of their Estates; with a great many more
+pressing Arguments on all Sides: To which at last she consented; and an
+honest officious Gentleman, whom they had before provided, was call'd
+up, who made an End of the Dispute: So to Bed they went together that
+Night; next Day to the _Exchange_, for several pretty Businesses that
+Ladies in her Condition want. Whilst they were abroad, came the Vermin
+of the Parish, (I�mean, the Overseers of the Poor, who eat the Bread
+from 'em) to search for a young Blackhair'd Lady (for so was
+_Bellamora_) who was either brought to Bed, or just ready to lie down.
+The Landlady shew'd 'em all the Rooms in her House, but no such Lady
+could be found. At last she bethought her self, and led 'em into her
+Parlour, where she open'd a little Closet-door, and shew'd 'em a black
+Cat that had just kitten'd: assuring 'em, that she should never trouble
+the Parish as long as she had Rats or Mice in the House; and so
+dismiss'd 'em like Loggerheads as they came.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Black Lady.
+
+
+p. 3 _Bridges-Street._ Brydges Street lies between Russell Street and
+Catherine Street. Drury Lane Theatre is at its N.E. corner. It early
+acquired no very enviable repute, e.g. In the Epilogue to Crowne's _Sir
+Courtly Nice_ (1685) we have: 'Our Bridges Street is grown a strumpet
+fair'; and Dryden, in the Epilogue to _King Arthur_ (1691), gave Mrs.
+Bracegirdle, who entered, her hands full of billets-doux, the following
+lines to speak:--
+
+  Here one desires my ladyship to meet  [_Pulls out one._
+  At the kind couch above in Bridges-Street.
+  Oh sharping knave! that would have--you know what,
+  For a poor sneaking treat of chocolate.
+
+p. 8 _Star-Inn on Fish-street-Hill._ Fish Street Hill, or, New Fish
+Street, runs from Eastcheap to Lower Thames Street, and was the main
+thoroughfare to old London Bridge, cf. 2�_Henry VI_, IV, viii: '_Cade._
+Up Fish Street! down St. Magnus' corner! kill and knock down! throw them
+into the Thames.'
+
+p. 9 _the Exchange._ The New Exchange, a kind of bazaar on the South
+side of the Strand. It was an immensely popular resort, and continued so
+until the latter years of the reign of Queen Anne. There are innumerable
+references to its shops, its sempstresses and haberdashers. Thomas
+Duffet was a milliner here before he took to writing farces, prologues
+and poems.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE COURT OF THE KING OF _BANTAM_.
+
+
+This Money certainly is a most devilish Thing! I'm sure the Want of it
+had like to have ruin'd my dear _Philibella_, in her Love to _Valentine
+Goodland_; who was really a pretty deserving Gentleman, Heir to about
+fifteen hundred Pounds a Year; which, however, did not so much recommend
+him, as the Sweetness of his Temper, the Comeliness of his Person, and
+the Excellency of his Parts: In all which Circumstances my obliging
+Acquaintance equal'd him, unless in the Advantage of their Fortune. Old
+Sir _George Goodland_ knew of his Son's Passion for _Philibella_; and
+tho' he was generous, and of a Humour sufficiently complying, yet he
+could by no means think it convenient, that his only Son should marry
+with a young Lady of so slender a Fortune as my Friend, who had not
+above five hundred Pound, and that the Gift of her Uncle Sir _Philip
+Friendly_: tho' her Virtue and Beauty might have deserv'd, and have
+adorn'd the Throne of an _Alexander_ or a _C�sar_.
+
+Sir _Philip_ himself, indeed, was but a younger Brother, tho' of a good
+Family, and of a generous Education; which, with his Person, Bravery,
+and Wit, recommended him to his Lady _Philadelphia_, Widow of Sir
+_Bartholomew Banquier_, who left her possess'd of two thousand Pounds
+_per Annum_, besides twenty thousand Pounds in Money and Jewels; which
+oblig'd him to get himself dubb'd, that she might not descend to an
+inferior Quality. When he was in Town, he liv'd--let me see! in the
+_Strand_; or, as near as I can remember, somewhere about
+_Charing-Cross_; where first of all Mr. _Would-be King_, a Gentleman of
+a large Estate in Houses, Land and Money, of a haughty, extravagant and
+profuse Humour, very fond of every new Face, had the Misfortune to fall
+passionately in love with _Philibella_, who then liv'd with her Uncle.
+
+This Mr. _Would-be_ it seems had often been told, when he was yet a
+Stripling, either by one of his Nurses, or his own Grandmother, or by
+some other Gypsy, that he should infallibly be what his Sirname imply'd,
+a�King, by Providence or Chance, ere he dy'd, or never. This glorious
+Prophecy had so great an Influence on all his Thoughts and Actions, that
+he distributed and dispers'd his Wealth sometimes so largely, that one
+would have thought he had undoubtedly been King of some Part of the
+_Indies_; to see a Present made to-day of a Diamond Ring, worth two or
+three hundred Pounds, to Madam _Flippant_; to-morrow, a�large Chest of
+the finest _China_ to my Lady _Fleecewell_; and next Day, perhaps,
+a�rich Necklace of large Oriental Pearl, with a Locket to it of
+Saphires, Emeralds, Rubies, &c., to pretty Miss _Ogle-me_, for an
+amorous Glance, for a Smile, and (it�may be, tho' but rarely) for the
+mighty Blessing of one single Kiss. But such were his Largesses, not to
+reckon his Treats, his Balls, and Serenades besides, tho' at the same
+time he had marry'd a virtuous Lady, and of good Quality: But her
+Relation to him (it�may be fear'd) made her very disagreeable: For a Man
+of his Humour and Estate can no more be satisfy'd with one Woman, than
+with one Dish of Meat; and to say Truth, 'tis something unmodish.
+However, he might have dy'd a pure Celibate, and altogether unexpert of
+Women, had his good or bad Hopes only terminated in Sir _Philip's_
+Niece. But the brave and haughty Mr. _Would-be_ was not to be baulk'd by
+Appearances of Virtue, which he thought all Womankind only did affect;
+besides, he promis'd himself the Victory over any Lady whom he
+attempted, by the Force of his damn'd Money, tho' her Virtue were ever
+so real and strict.
+
+With _Philibella_ he found another pretty young Creature, very like her,
+who had been a _quondam_ Mistress to Sir _Philip_: He, with young
+_Goodland_, was then diverting his Mistress and Niece at a Game at
+Cards, when _Would-be_ came to visit him; he found 'em very merry, with
+a Flask or two of Claret before 'em, and Oranges roasting by a large
+Fire, for it was _Christmas-time_. The Lady _Friendly_ understanding
+that this extraordinary Man was with Sir _Philip_ in the Parlour, came
+in to 'em, to make the number of both Sexes equal, as well as in Hopes
+to make up a Purse of Guineas toward the Purchase of some new fine
+Business that she had in her Head, from his accustom'd Design of losing
+at Play to her. Indeed, she had Part of her Wish, for she got twenty
+Guineas of him; _Philibella_ ten; and _Lucy_, Sir _Philip's_ quondam,
+five: Not but that _Would-be_ intended better Fortune to the young ones,
+than he did to Sir _Philip's_ Lady; but her Ladyship was utterly
+unwilling to give him over to their Management, tho' at the last, when
+they were all tir'd with the Cards, after _Would-be_ had said as many
+obliging things as his present Genius would give him leave, to
+_Philibella_ and _Lucy_, especially to the first, not forgetting his
+Baisemains to the Lady _Friendly_, he bid the Knight and _Goodland_
+adieu; but with a Promise of repeating his Visit at six a-clock in the
+Evening on _Twelfth-Day_, to renew the famous and antient Solemnity of
+chusing King and Queen; to which Sir _Philip_ before invited him, with a
+Design yet unknown to you, I�hope.
+
+As soon as he was gone, every one made their Remarks on him, but with
+very little or no Difference in all their Figures of him. In short, all
+Mankind, had they ever known him, would have universally agreed in this
+his Character, That he was an Original; since nothing in Humanity was
+ever so vain, so haughty, so profuse, so fond, and so ridiculously
+ambitious, as Mr. _Would-be King_. They laugh'd and talk'd about an Hour
+longer, and then young _Goodland_ was oblig'd to see _Lucy_ home in his
+Coach; tho' he had rather have sat up all Night in the same House with
+_Philibella_, I fancy, of whom he took but an unwilling Leave; which was
+visible enough to every one there, since they were all acquainted with
+his Passion for my fair Friend.
+
+About twelve a-clock on the Day prefix'd, young _Goodland_ came to dine
+with Sir _Philip_, whom he found just return'd from Court, in a very
+good Humour. On the Sight of _Valentine_, the Knight ran to him, and
+embracing him, told him, That he had prevented his Wishes, in coming
+thither before he sent for him, as he had just then design'd. The other
+return'd, that he therefore hoped he might be of some Service to him, by
+so happy a Prevention of his intended Kindness. No doubt (reply'd Sir
+_Philip_) the Kindness, I�hope, will be to us both; I�am assur'd it
+will, if you will act according to my Measures. I�desire no better
+Prescriptions for my Happiness (return'd _Valentine_) than what you
+shall please to set down to me: But is it necessary or convenient that I
+should know 'em first? It is, (answer'd Sir _Philip_) let us sit, and
+you shall understand 'em.--I am very sensible (continu'd�he) of your
+sincere and honourable Affection and Pretension to my Niece, who,
+perhaps, is as dear to me as my own Child could be, had I one; nor am I
+ignorant how averse Sir _George_ your Father is to your Marriage with
+her, insomuch that I am confident he would disinherit you immediately
+upon it, merely for want of a Fortune somewhat proportionable to your
+Estate: but I have now contrived the Means to add two or three thousand
+Pounds to the five hundred I have design'd to give with her; I�mean, if
+you marry her, _Val_, not otherwise; for I will not labour so for any
+other Man. What inviolable Obligations you put upon me! (cry'd
+_Goodland_.) No Return, by way of Compliments, good _Val_, (said the
+Knight:) Had I not engag'd to my Wife, before Marriage, that I would not
+dispose of any part of what she brought me, without her Consent, I�would
+certainly make _Philibella's_ Fortune answerable to your Estate: And
+besides, my Wife is not yet full eight and twenty, and we may therefore
+expect Children of our own, which hinders me from proposing any thing
+more for the Advantage of my Niece.--But now to my Instructions;--_King_
+will be here this Evening without fail, and, at some Time or other
+to-night, will shew the Haughtiness of his Temper to you, I�doubt not,
+since you are in a manner a Stranger to him: Be sure therefore you seem
+to quarrel with him before you part, but suffer as much as you can first
+from his Tongue; for I know he will give you Occasions enough to
+exercise your passive Valour. I�must appear his Friend, and you must
+retire Home, if you please, for this Night, but let me see you as early
+as your Convenience will permit to-morrow: my late Friend _Lucy_ must be
+my Niece too. Observe this, and leave the rest to me. I�shall most
+punctually, and will in all things be directed by you, (said
+_Valentine_.) I had forgot to tell you (said _Friendly_) that I have so
+order'd matters, that he must be King to-night, and _Lucy_ Queen, by the
+Lots in the Cake. By all means (return'd _Goodland_;) it must be
+Majesty.
+
+Exactly at six a'clock came _Wou'd-be_ in his Coach and six, and found
+Sir _Philip_, and his Lady, _Goodland_, _Philibella_, and _Lucy_ ready
+to receive him; _Lucy_ as fine as a Dutchess, and almost as beautiful as
+she was before her Fall. All things were in ample Order for his
+Entertainment. They play'd till Supper was serv'd in, which was between
+eight and nine. The Treat was very seasonable and splendid. Just as the
+second Course was set on the Table, they were all on a sudden surpriz'd,
+except _Would-be_, with a Flourish of Violins, and other Instruments,
+which proceeded to entertain 'em with the best and newest Airs in the
+last new Plays, being then in the Year 1683. The Ladies were curious to
+know to whom they ow'd the chearful part of their Entertainment: On
+which he call'd out, Hey! _Tom Farmer! Ale-worth! Eccles! Hall!_ and the
+rest of you! Here's a Health to these Ladies, and all this honourable
+Company. They bow'd; he drank, and commanded another Glass to be fill'd,
+into which he put something yet better than the Wine, I�mean, ten
+Guineas: Here, _Farmer_, (said he then) this for you and your Friends.
+We humbly thank the honourable Mr. _Would-be King_. They all return'd,
+and struck up with more Spriteliness than before. For Gold and Wine,
+doubtless, are the best Rosin for Musicians.
+
+After Supper they took a hearty Glass or two to the King, Queen, Duke,
+&c. And then the mighty Cake, teeming with the Fate of this
+extraordinary Personage, was brought in, the Musicians playing an
+Overture at the Entrance of the _Alimental Oracle_; which was then cut
+and consulted, and the royal Bean and Pea fell to those to whom Sir
+_Philip_ had design'd 'em. 'Twas then the Knight began a merry Bumper,
+with three Huzza's, and, _Long live King +Would-be!+_ to _Goodland_, who
+echo'd and pledg'd him, putting the Glass about to the harmonious
+Attendants; while the Ladies drank their own Quantities among
+themselves, _To his aforesaid Majesty_. Then of course you may believe
+Queen _Lucy's_ Health went merrily round, with the same Ceremony: After
+which he saluted his Royal Consort, and condescended to do the same
+Honour to the two other Ladies.
+
+Then they fell a dancing, like Lightning; I mean, they mov'd as swift,
+and made almost as little Noise; But his Majesty was soon weary of that;
+for he long'd to be making love both to _Philibella_ and _Lucy_, who
+(believe�me) that Night might well enough have passed for a Queen.
+
+They fell then to Questions and Commands; to cross Purposes: _I�think a
+Thought, what is it like?_ &c. In all which, his _Would-be_ Majesty took
+the Opportunity of shewing the Excellency of his Parts, as, How fit he
+was to govern! How dextrous at mining and countermining! and, How he
+could reconcile the most contrary and distant Thoughts! The Musick, at
+last, good as it was, grew troublesome and too loud; which made him
+dismiss them: And then he began to this effect, addressing himself to
+_Philibella_: Madam, had Fortune been just, and were it possible that
+the World should be govern'd and influenc'd by two Suns, undoubtedly we
+had all been Subjects to you, from this Night's Chance, as well as to
+that Lady, who indeed alone can equal you in the Empire of Beauty, which
+yet you share with her Majesty here present, who only could dispute it
+with you, and is only superior to you in Title. My Wife is infinitely
+oblig'd to your Majesty, (interrupted Sir _Philip_) who in my Opinion,
+has greater Charms, and more than both of them together. You ought to
+think so, Sir _Philip_ (returned the new dubb'd King) however you should
+not liberally have express'd your self, in Opposition and Derogation to
+Majesty:--Let me tell you 'tis a saucy Boldness that thus has loos'd
+your Tongue!--What think you, young Kinsman and Counsellor? (said he to
+_Goodland_.) With all Respect due to your sacred Title, (return'd
+_Valentene_, rising and bowing) Sir _Philip_ spoke as became a truly
+affectionate Husband; and it had been Presumption in him, unpardonable,
+to have seem'd to prefer her Majesty, or that other sweet Lady, in his
+Thoughts, since your Majesty has been pleas'd to say so much and so
+particularly of their Merits: 'Twould appear as if he durst lift up his
+Eyes, with Thoughts too near the Heaven you only would enjoy. And only
+can deserve, you should have added, (said _King_, no longer _Would-be_.)
+How! may it please your Majesty (cry'd _Friendly_) both my Nieces! tho'
+you deserve ten thousand more, and better, would your Majesty enjoy them
+both? Are they then both your Nieces? (asked Chance's King). Yes, both,
+Sir (return'd the Knight,) her Majesty's the eldest, and in that Fortune
+has shewn some Justice. So she has (reply'd the titular Monarch): My Lot
+is fair (pursu'd�he) tho' I�can be bless'd but with one.
+
+  _Let Majesty with Majesty be join'd,
+  To get and leave a Race of Kings behind._
+
+Come, Madam (continued he, kissing _Lucy_,) this, as an Earnest of our
+future Endeavours. I�fear (return'd the pretty Queen) your Majesty will
+forget the unhappy _Statira_, when you return to the Embraces of your
+dear and beautiful _Roxana_. There is none beautiful but you (reply'd
+the titular King) unless this Lady, to whom I yet could pay my Vows most
+zealously, were't not that Fortune has thus pre-engaged me. But, Madam
+(continued�he) to shew that still you hold our Royal Favour, and that,
+next to our Royal Consort, we esteem you, we greet you thus (kissing
+_Philibella_;) and as a Signal of our continued Love, wear this rich
+Diamond: (here he put a Diamond Ring on her Finger, worth three hundred
+Pounds.) Your Majesty (pursu'd he to _Lucy_) may please to wear this
+Necklace, with this Locket of Emeralds. Your Majesty is bounteous as a
+God! (said _Valentine_.) Art thou in Want, young Spark? (ask'd the King
+of _Bantam_) I'll give thee an Estate shall make thee merit the Mistress
+of thy Vows, be she who she will. That is my other Niece, Sir, (cry'd
+_Friendly_.) How! how! presumptious Youth! How are thy Eyes and Thoughts
+exalted? ha! To Bliss your Majesty must never hope for, (reply'd
+_Goodland_.) How now! thou Creature of the basest Mold! Not hope for
+what thou dost aspire to! _Mock-King_; thou canst not, dar'st not, shalt
+not hope it: (return'd _Valentine_ in a heat.) Hold, _Val_, (cry'd Sir
+_Philip_) you grow warm, forget your Duty to their Majesties, and abuse
+your Friends, by making us suspected. Good-night, dear _Philibella_, and
+my Queen! Madam, I�am your Ladyship's Servant (said _Goodland_:)
+Farewel, Sir _Philip_: Adieu, thou Pageant! thou Property-King! I�shall
+see thy Brother on the Stage ere long; but first I'll visit thee: and in
+the meantime, by way of Return to thy proffer'd Estate, I�shall add a
+real Territory to the rest of thy empty Titles; for from thy Education,
+barbarous manner of Conversation, and Complexion, I�think I may justly
+proclaim thee, _King of +Bantam+_--So, _Hail, King that Would-be! Hail
+thou King of +Christmas+! All-hail, Wou'd-be King of +Bantam+_--and so
+he left 'em.--They all seem'd amazed, and gaz'd on one another, without
+speaking a Syllable; 'till Sir _Philip_ broke the Charm, and sigh'd out,
+Oh, the monstrous Effects of Passion! Say rather, Oh, the foolish
+Effects of a mean Education! (interrupted his Majesty of _Bantam_.) For
+Passions were given us for Use, Reason to govern and direct us in the
+Use, and Education to cultivate and refine that Reason. But (pursu'd�he)
+for all his Impudence to me, which I shall take a time to correct, I�am
+oblig'd to him, that at last he has found me out a Kingdom to my Title;
+and if I were Monarch of that Place (believe me, Ladies) I�would make
+you all Princesses and Duchesses; and thou, my old Companion,
+_Friendly_, should rule the Roast with me. But these Ladies should be
+with us there, where we could erect Temples and Altars to 'em; build
+Golden Palaces of Love, and Castles--in the Air (interrupted her
+Majesty, _Lucy_�I. smiling.) 'Gad take me (cry'd King _Wou'd-be_) thou
+dear Partner of my Greatness, and shalt be, of all my Pleasures! thy
+pretty satirical Observation has oblig'd me beyond Imitation.' I think
+your Majesty is got into a Vein of Rhiming to-night, (said
+_Philadelphia_.) Ay! Pox of that young insipid Fop, we could else have
+been as great as an Emperor of _China_, and as witty as _Horace_ in his
+Wine; but let him go, like a pragmatical, captious, giddy Fool as he is!
+I�shall take a Time to see him. Nay, Sir, (said _Philibella_) he has
+promis'd your Majesty a Visit in our Hearing. Come, Sir, I�beg your
+Majesty to pledge me this Glass to your long and happy Reign; laying
+aside all Thoughts of ungovern'd Youth: Besides, this Discourse must
+needs be ungrateful to her Majesty, to whom, I�fear, he will be marry'd
+within this Month! How! (cry'd _King and no King_) married to my Queen!
+I�must not, cannot suffer it! Pray restrain your self a little, Sir
+(said Sir _Philip_) and when once these Ladies have left us, I�will
+discourse your Majesty further about this Business. Well, pray, Sir
+_Philip_, (said his Lady) let not your Worship be pleas'd to sit up too
+long for his Majesty: About five o'Clock I shall expect you; 'tis your
+old Hour. And yours, Madam, to wake to receive me coming to Bed--Your
+Ladyship understands me, (return'd _Friendly_.) You're merry, my Love,
+you're merry, (cry'd _Philadelphia_:) Come, Niece, to Bed! to Bed! Ay,
+(said the Knight) Go, both of you and sleep together, if you can,
+without the Thoughts of a Lover, or a Husband. His Majesty was pleas'd
+to wish them a good Repose; and so, with a Kiss, they parted for that
+time.
+
+Now we're alone (said Sir _Philip_) let me assure you, Sir, I�resent
+this Affront done to you by Mr. _Goodland_, almost as highly as you can:
+and tho' I�can't wish that you should take such Satisfaction, as perhaps
+some other hotter Sparks would; yet let me say, his Miscarriage ought
+not to go unpunish'd in him. Fear not (reply'd t'other) I�shall give him
+a sharp Lesson. No, Sir (return'd _Friendly_) I would not have you think
+of a bloody Revenge; for 'tis that which possibly he designs on you:
+I�know him brave as any Man. However, were it convenient that the Sword
+should determine betwixt you, you should not want mine: The Affront is
+partly to me, since done in my House; but I've already laid down safer
+Measures for us, tho' of more fatal Consequence to him: that is, I've
+form'd them in my Thoughts. Dismiss your Coach and Equipage, all but one
+Servant, and I will discourse it to you at large. 'Tis now past Twelve;
+and if you please, I�would invite you to take up as easy a Lodging here,
+as my House will afford. (Accordingly they were dismiss'd, and he
+proceeded:)--As I hinted to you before, he is in love with my youngest
+Niece, _Philibella_; but her Fortune not exceeding five hundred Pound,
+his Father will assuredly disinherit him, if he marries her: tho' he has
+given his Consent that he should marry her eldest Sister, whose Father
+dying ere he knew his Wife was with child of the youngest, left _Lucy_
+three thousand Pounds, being as much as he thought convenient to match
+her handsomly; and accordingly the Nuptials of young _Goodland_ and
+_Lucy_ are to be celebrated next _Easter_. They shall not, if I can
+hinder them (interrupted his offended Majesty.) Never endeavour the
+Obstruction (said the Knight) for I'll shew you the Way to a dearer
+Vengeance: Women are Women, your Majesty knows; she may be won to your
+Embraces before that time, and then you antedate him your Creature.
+A�Cuckold, you mean (cry'd King in Fancy:) O�exquisite Revenge! but can
+you consent that I should attempt it? What is't to me? We live not in
+_Spain_, where all the Relations of the Family are oblig'd to vindicate
+a Whore: No, I�would wound him in his most tender Part. But how shall we
+compass it? (ask'd t'other.) Why thus, throw away three thousand Pounds
+on the youngest Sister, as a Portion, to make her as happy as she can be
+in her new Lover, Sir _Frederick Flygold_, an extravagant young Fop, and
+wholly given over to Gaming; so, ten to one, but you may retrieve your
+Money of him, and have the two Sisters at your Devotion. Oh, thou my
+better Genius than that which was given to me by Heaven at my Birth!
+What Thanks, what Praises shall I return and sing to thee for this!
+(cry'd King _Conundrum_.) No Thanks, no Praises, I�beseech your Majesty,
+since in this I gratify my self--You think I am your Friend? and, you
+will agree to this? (said _Friendly_, by way of Question.) Most readily,
+(returned the Fop King:) Would it were broad Day, that I might send for
+the Money to my Banker's; for in all my Life, in all my Frolicks,
+Encounters and Extravagances, I�never had one so grateful, and so
+pleasant as this will be, if you are in earnest, to gratify both my Love
+and Revenge! That I am in earnest, you will not doubt, when you see with
+what Application I shall pursue my Design: In the mean Time, _My Duty to
+your Majesty; To our good Success in this Affair_. While he drank,
+t'other return'd, _With all my Heart_; and pledg'd him. Then _Friendly_
+began afresh: Leave the whole Management of this to me; only one thing
+more I think necessary, that you make a Present of five hundred Guineas
+to her Majesty, the Bride that must be. By all means (return'd the
+wealthy King of _Bantam_;) I had so design'd before. Well, Sir (said Sir
+_Philip_) what think you of a set Party or two at _Piquet_, to pass away
+a few Hours, till we can sleep? A�seasonable and welcome Proposition
+(returned the King;) but I won't play above twenty Guineas the Game, and
+forty the Lurch. Agreed (said _Friendly_;) first call in your Servant;
+mine is here already. The Slave came in, and they began, with unequal
+Fortune at first; for the Knight had lost a hundred Guineas to Majesty,
+which he paid in Specie; and then propos'd fifty Guineas the Game, and a
+hundred the Lurch. To which t'other consented; and without winning more
+than three Games, and those not together, made shift to get three
+thousand two hundred Guineas in debt to Sir _Philip_; for which Majesty
+was pleas'd to give him Bond, whether _Friendly_ would or�no,
+
+  _Seal'd and deliver'd in the Presence of_,
+
+    The Mark of (_W._) _Will. Watchful_.
+    And, (_S_) _Sim. Slyboots_.
+
+  A couple of delicate Beagles, their mighty Attendants.
+
+It was then about the Hour that Sir _Philip's_ (and, it may be, other
+Ladies) began to yawn and stretch; when the Spirits refresh'd, troul'd
+about, and tickled the Blood with Desires of Action; which made Majesty
+and Worship think of a Retreat to Bed: where in less than half an Hour,
+or before ever he cou'd say his Prayers, I'm sure the first fell fast
+asleep; but the last, perhaps, paid his accustom'd Devotion, ere he
+begun his Progress to the Shadow of Death. However, he waked earlier
+than his Cully Majesty, and got up to receive young _Goodland_, who came
+according to his Word, with the first Opportunity. Sir _Philip_ receiv'd
+him with more than usual Joy, tho' not with greater Kindness, and let
+him know every Syllable and Accident that had pass'd between them till
+they went to Bed: which you may believe was not a little pleasantly
+surprizing to _Valentine_, who began then to have some Assurance of his
+Happiness with _Philibella_. His Friend told him, that he must now be
+reconcil'd to his _Mock-Majesty_, tho' with some Difficulty; and so
+taking one hearty Glass a-piece, he left _Valentine_ in the Parlour to
+carry the ungrateful News of his Visit to him that Morning. King ----
+was in an odd sort of taking, when he heard that _Valentine_ was below;
+and had been, as Sir _Philip_ inform'd _Majesty_, at _Majesty's_ Palace,
+to enquire for him there: But when he told him, that he had already
+school'd him on his own Behalf, for the Affront done in his House, and
+that he believ'd he could bring his Majesty off without any loss of
+present Honour, his Countenance visibly discover'd his past Fear, and
+present Satisfaction; which was much encreas'd too, when _Friendly_
+shewing him his Bond for the Money he won of him at play, let him know,
+that if he paid three thousand Guineas to _Philibella_, he would
+immediately deliver him up his Bond, and not expect the two hundred
+Guineas overplus. His Majesty of _Bantam_ was then in so good a Humour,
+that he could have made Love to Sir _Philip_; nay, I�believe he could
+have kiss'd _Valentine_, instead of seeming angry. Down they came, and
+saluted like Gentlemen: But after the Greeting was over, _Goodland_
+began to talk something of Affront, Satisfaction, Honour, _&c._ when
+immediately _Friendly_ interpos'd, and after a little seeming Uneasiness
+and Reluctancy, reconcil'd the hot and cholerick Youth to the cold
+phlegmatick King.
+
+Peace was no sooner proclaim'd, than the King of _Bantam_ took his Rival
+and late Antagonist with him in his own Coach, not excluding Sir
+_Philip_ by any means, to _Locket's_, where they din'd: Thence he would
+have 'em to Court with him, where he met the Lady _Flippant_, the Lady
+_Harpy_, the Lady _Crocodile_, Madam _Tattlemore_, Miss _Medler_, Mrs.
+_Gingerly_, a rich Grocer's Wife, and some others, besides Knights and
+Gentlemen of as good Humours as the Ladies; all whom he invited to a
+Ball at his own House, the Night following; his own Lady being then in
+the Country. Madam _Tattlemore_, I think was the first he spoke to in
+Court, and whom first he surpriz'd with the happy News of his
+Advancement to the Title of King of _Bantam_. How wondrous hasty was she
+to be gone, as soon as she heard it! 'Twas not in her Power, because not
+in her Nature, to stay long enough to take a civil Leave of the Company;
+but away she flew, big with the empty Title of a fantastick King,
+proclaiming it to every one of her Acquaintance, as she passed through
+every Room, till she came to the _Presence-Chamber_, where she only
+whisper'd it; but her Whispers made above half the honourable Company
+quit the Presence of the King of _Great-Britain_, to go make their Court
+to his Majesty of _Bantam_: some cry'd, _God bless your Majesty!_ Some
+_Long live the King of +Bantam+!_ Others, _All Hail to your Sacred
+Majesty_; In short, he was congratulated on all Sides. Indeed I don't
+hear that his Majesty King _Charles_ II. ever sent an Ambassador to
+compliment him; tho' possibly, he saluted him by his Title the first
+time he saw him afterwards: For, you know, he is a wonderful
+good-natur'd and well-bred Gentleman.
+
+After he thought the Court of _England_ was universally acquainted with
+his mighty Honour, he was pleas'd to think fit to retire to his own more
+private Palace, with Sir _Philip_ and _Goodland_, whom he entertain'd
+that Night very handsomly, till about seven o'Clock; when they went
+together to the Play, which was that Night, _A�King and no King_. His
+Attendant-Friends could not forbear smiling, to think how aptly the
+Title of the Play suited his Circumstances. Nor could he choose but take
+Notice of it behind the Scenes, between Jest and Earnest; telling the
+Players how kind Fortune had been the Night past, in disposing the Bean
+to him; and justifying what one of her Prophetesses had foretold some
+Years since. I�shall now no more regard (said�he) that old doating
+Fellow _Pythagoras's_ Saying _Abstineto a Fabis_, That is, (added he, by
+way of Construction) _Abstain from Beans_: for I find the Excellency of
+'em in Cakes and Dishes; from the first, they inspire the Soul with
+mighty Thoughts; and from the last our Bodies receive a strong and
+wholesom Nourishment. That is, (said a Wag among those sharp Youths,
+I�think 'twas my Friend the Count) these puff you up in Mind, Sir, those
+in Body. They had some further Discourse among the Nymphs of the Stage,
+ere they went into the Pit; where Sir _Philip_ spread the News of his
+Friend's Accession to the Title, tho' not yet to the Throne of _Bantam_;
+upon which he was there again complimented on that Occasion. Several of
+the Ladies and Gentlemen who saluted him, he invited to the next Night's
+Ball at his Palace.
+
+The Play done, they took each of them a Bottle at the _Rose_, and parted
+till Seven the Night following; which came not sooner than desired: for
+he had taken such Care, that all things were in readiness before Eight,
+only he was not to expect the Musick till the End of the Play. About
+Nine, Sir _Philip_, his Lady, _Goodland_, _Philibella_, and _Lucy_ came.
+Sir _Philip_ return'd him _Rabelais_, which he had borrow'd of him,
+wherein the Knight had written, in an old odd sort of a Character, this
+Prophecy of his own making; with which he surpriz'd the Majesty of
+_Bantam_, who vow'd he had never taken Notice of it before; but he said,
+he perceiv'd it had been long written by the Character; and here it
+follows, as near as I can remember:
+
+  _When +M. D. C.+ come +L.+ before,
+  Three +XXX+'s, two II's and one I. more;
+  Then +KING+, tho' now but Name to thee,
+  Shall both thy Name and Title be._
+
+They had hardly made an End of reading it, ere the whole Company, and
+more than he had invited, came in, and were receiv'd with a great deal
+of Formality and Magnificence. _Lucy_ was there attended as his Queen;
+and _Philibella_, as the Princess her Sister. They danc'd then till they
+were weary; and afterwards retired to another large Room, where they
+found the Tables spread and furnished with all the most seasonable cold
+Meat; which was succeeded by the choicest Fruits, and the richest Desert
+of Sweetmeats that Luxury could think on, or at least that this Town
+could afford. The Wines were all most excellent in their Kind; and their
+Spirits flew about thro' every Corner of the House: There was scarce a
+Spark sober in the whole Company, with drinking repeated Glasses to the
+Health of the King of _Bantam_, and his Royal Consort, with the Princess
+_Philibella's_ who sat together under a Royal Canopy of State, his
+Majesty between the two beautiful Sisters: only _Friendly_ and
+_Goodland_ wisely manag'd that part of the Engagement where they were
+concern'd, and preserv'd themselves from the Heat of the Debauch.
+
+Between Three and Four most of them began to draw off, laden with Fruit
+and Sweetmeats, and rich Favours compos'd of Yellow, Green, Red and
+White, the Colours of his new Majesty of _Bantam_. Before Five they were
+left to themselves; when the Lady _Friendly_ was discompos'd, for want
+of Sleep, and her usual Cordial, which obliged Sir _Philip_ to wait on
+her Home, with his two Nieces: But his Majesty would by no means part
+with _Goodland_; whom, before Nine that Morning, he made as drunk as a
+Lord, and by Consequence, one of his Peers; for Majesty was then,
+indeed, as great as an Emperor: He fancy'd himself _Alexander_, and
+young _Valentine_ his _Hephestion_; and did so be-buss him, that the
+young Gentleman fear'd he was fallen into the Hands of an _Italian_.
+However, by the kind Persuasions of his condescending and dissembling
+Majesty, he ventur'd to go into Bed with him; where King _Would-be_ fell
+asleep, hand-over-head: and not long after, _Goodland_, his new-made
+Peer, follow'd him to the cool Retreats of _Morpheus_.
+
+About Three the next Afternoon they both wak'd, as by consent, and
+called to dress. And after that Business was over, I�think they
+swallow'd each of 'em a Pint of _Old-Hock_, with a little Sugar, by the
+way of healing. Their Coaches were got ready in the mean time; but the
+Peer was forced to accept of the Honour of being carried in his
+Majesty's to Sir _Philip's_, whom they found just risen from Dinner,
+with _Philadelphia_ and his two Nieces. They sat down, and ask'd for
+something to relish a Glass of Wine, and Sir _Philip_ order'd a cold
+Chine to be set before 'em, of which they eat about an Ounce a-piece;
+but they drank more by half, I�dare say.
+
+After their little Repast, _Friendly_ call'd the _Would-be-Monarch_
+aside, and told him, that he would have him go to the Play that Night,
+which was _The London-Cuckolds_; promising to meet him there in less
+than half an Hour after his Departure: telling him withal, that he would
+surprize him with a much better Entertainment than the Stage afforded.
+_Majesty_ took the Hint, imagining, and that rightly, that the Knight
+had some Intrigue in his Head, for the Promotion of the Commonwealth of
+Cuckoldom: In order therefore to his Advice, he took his leave about a
+quarter of an Hour after.
+
+When he was gone, Sir _Philip_ thus bespoke his pretended Niece: Madam,
+I�hope your Majesty will not refuse me the Honour of waiting on you to a
+Place where you will meet with better Entertainment than your Majesty
+can expect from the best Comedy in Christendom. _Val_, (continued�he)
+you must go with us, to secure me against the Jealousy of my Wife. That,
+indeed (return'd his Lady) is very material; and you are mightily
+concern'd not to give me Occasion, I�must own. You see I am now,
+(replied�he:) But--come! on with Hoods and Scarf! (pursued he, to
+_Lucy_.) Then addressing himself again to his Lady; Madam, (said�he)
+we'll wait on you. In less Time than I could have drank a Bottle to my
+Share, the Coach was got ready, and on they drove to the Play-House. By
+the way, said _Friendly_ to _Val._--Your Honour, noble Peer, must be set
+down at _Long's_; for only _Lucy_ and I must be seen to his Majesty of
+_Bantam_: And now, I�doubt not, you understand what you must trust
+to.--To be robb'd of her Majesty's Company, I�warrant (return'd the
+other) for these long three Hours. Why (cry'd _Lucy_) you don't mean,
+I�hope, to leave me with his Majesty of _Bantam_? 'Tis for thy Good,
+Child! 'Tis for thy Good (return'd _Friendly_.) To the _Rose_ they got
+then; where _Goodland_ alighted, and expected Sir _Philip_; who led
+_Lucy_ into the King's Box, to his new Majesty; where, after the first
+Scene, he left them together. The over-joy'd fantastick Monarch would
+fain have said some fine obliging Things to the Knight, as he was going
+out; but _Friendly's_ Haste prevented 'em, who went directly to
+_Valentine_, took one Glass, call'd a Reckoning, mounted his Chariot,
+and away Home they came: where I believe he was welcome to his Lady; for
+I never heard any thing to the contrary.
+
+In the mean Time, his Majesty had not the Patience to stay out half the
+Play, at which he was saluted by above twenty Gentlemen and Ladies by
+his new and mighty Title: but out he led Miss Majesty ere the third Act
+was half done; pretending, that it was so damn'd a bawdy Play, that he
+knew her Modesty had been already but too much offended at it; so into
+his Coach he got her. When they were seated, she told him she would go
+to no Place with him, but to the Lodgings her Mother had taken for her,
+when she first came to Town, and which still she kept. Your Mother,
+Madam, (cry'd�he) why, is Sir _Philip's_ Sister living then? His
+Brother's Widow is, Sir, (she reply'd.) Is she there? (he�ask'd.) No,
+Sir, (she return'd;) she is in the Country. Oh, then we will go thither
+to chuse. The Coach-man was then order'd to drive to _Jermain-Street_;
+where, when he came in to the Lodgings, he found 'em very rich and
+modishly furnish'd. He presently call'd one of his Slaves, and whisper'd
+him to get three or four pretty Dishes for Supper; and then getting a
+Pen, Ink and Paper, writ a Note to _C----d_ the Goldsmith with
+_Temple-Bar_, for five hundred guineas; which _Watchful_ brought him, in
+less than an Hour's time, when they were just in the Height of Supper;
+_Lucy_ having invited her Landlady, for the better Colour of the Matter.
+His _Bantamite_ Majesty took the Gold from his Slave, and threw it by
+him in the Window, that _Lucy_ might take Notice of it; (which you may
+assure yourself she did, and after Supper wink'd on the goodly Matron of
+the House to retire, which she immediately obey'd.) Then his Majesty
+began his Court very earnestly and hotly, throwing the naked Guineas
+into her Lap: which she seemed to refuse with much Disdain; but upon his
+repeated Promises, confirm'd by unheard of Oaths and Imprecations, that
+he would give her Sister three thousand Guineas to her Portion, she
+began by Degrees to mollify, and let the Gold lie quietly in her Lap:
+And the next Night, after he had drawn Notes on two or three of his
+Bankers, for the Payment of three thousand Guineas to Sir _Philip_, or
+Order, and received his own Bond, made for what he had lost at Play,
+from _Friendly_, she made no great Difficulty to admit his Majesty to
+her Bed. Where I think fit to leave 'em for the present; for (perhaps)
+they had some private Business.
+
+The next Morning before the Titular King was (I won't say up, or
+stirring, but) out of Bed, young _Goodland_ and _Philibella_ were
+privately marry'd; the Bills being all accepted and paid in two Days
+Time. As soon as ever the fantastick Monarch could find in his Heart to
+divorce himself from the dear and charming Embraces of his beautiful
+Bedfellow, he came flying to Sir _Philip_, with all the Haste that
+Imagination big with Pleasure could inspire him with, to discharge it
+self to a suppos'd Friend. The Knight told him, that he was really much
+troubled to find that his Niece had yielded so soon and easily to him;
+however, he wish'd him Joy: To which the other return'd, that he could
+never want it, whilst he had the Command of so much Beauty, and that
+without the ungrateful Obligations of Matrimony, which certainly are the
+most nauseous, hateful, pernicious and destructive of Love imaginable.
+Think you so, Sir? (ask'd the Knight;) we shall hear what a Friend of
+mine will say on such an Occasion, to-morrow about this Time: but I
+beseech your Majesty to conceal your Sentiments of it to him, lest you
+make him as uneasy as you seem to be in that Circumstance. Be assur'd I
+will, (return'd the other:) But when shall I see the sweet, the dear,
+the blooming, the charming _Philibella_? She will be with us at Dinner.
+Where's her Majesty? (ask'd Sir _Philip_) Had you enquir'd before, she
+had been here; for, look, she comes! _Friendly_ seems to regard her with
+a Kind of Displeasure, and whisper'd Majesty, that he should express no
+particular Symptoms of Familiarity with _Lucy_ in his House, at any
+Time, especially when _Goodland_ was there, as then he was above with
+his Lady and _Philibella_, who came down presently after to Dinner.
+
+About Four o'Clock, as his Majesty had intrigu'd with her, _Lucy_ took a
+Hackney-Coach, and went to her Lodgings; whither about an Hour after, he
+follow'd her, Next Morning, at nine, he came to _Friendly's_, who
+carry'd him up to see his new-married Friends--But (O�Damnation to
+Thoughts!) what Torments did he feel, when he saw young _Goodland_ and
+_Philibella_ in bed together; the last of which return'd him humble and
+hearty Thanks for her Portion and Husband, as the first did for his
+Wife. He shook his Head at Sir _Philip_, and without speaking one Word,
+left 'em, and hurry'd to _Lucy_, to lament the ill Treatment he had met
+with from _Friendly_. They coo'd and bill'd as long as he was able; she
+(sweet Hypocrite) seeming to bemoan his Misfortunes; which he took so
+kindly, that when he left her, which was about three in the Afternoon,
+he caus'd a Scrivener to draw up an Instrument, wherein he settled a
+hundred Pounds a Year on _Lucy_ for her Life, and gave her a hundred
+Guineas more against her Lying-in: (For she told him, and indeed 'twas
+true, that she was with child, and knew her self to be so from a very
+good Reason--) And indeed she was so--by the _Friendly_ Knight. When he
+return'd to her, he threw the obliging Instrument into her Lap;
+(it�seems he had a particular Kindness for that Place--) then call'd for
+Wine, and something to eat; for he had not drank a Pint to his Share all
+the Day, (tho' he had ply'd it at the Chocolate-House.--) The Landlady,
+who was invited to sup with 'em, bid 'em good-night, about eleven; when
+they went to bed, and partly slept till about six; when they were
+entertain'd by some Gentleman of their Acquaintance, who play'd and sung
+very finely, by way of _Epithalamium_, these Words and more:
+
+  _Joy to great +Bantam!+
+  Live long, love and wanton!
+  And thy Royal Consort!
+  For both are of one Sort, +&c.+_
+
+The rest I have forgot. He took some Offence at the Words; but more at
+the Visit that Sir _Philip_, and _Goodland_, made him, about an Hour
+after, who found him in Bed with his Royal Consort; and after having
+wish'd 'em Joy, and thrown their Majesties own Shoes and Stockings at
+their Head, retir'd. This gave Monarch in Fancy so great a Caution that
+he took his Royal Consort into the Country, (but above forty Miles off
+the Place where his own Lady was) where, in less than eight Months, she
+was deliver'd of a Princely Babe, who was Christen'd by the Heathenish
+Name of _Hayoumorecake Bantam_, while her Majesty lay in like a pretty
+Queen.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The King of Bantam.
+
+
+p. 17 _last new Plays, being then in the Year 1683_. The new plays acted
+at the Theatre Royal in 1682 were: Southerne's _The Loyal Brother; or,
+The Persian Prince_; Tate's _Ingratitude of a Commonwealth; or, The Fall
+of Caius Marius Coriolanus_; Settle's _The Heir of Morocco, with the
+Death of Gayland_; Banks' _The Unhappy Favourite; or, the Earl of
+Essex_; D'Urfey's _The Injur'd Princess; or, The Fatal Wager_. There
+were also an unusual number of revivals of the older plays at this
+house. At Dorset Garden the following were produced: Otway's _Venice
+Preserved; or, A�Plot Discovered_; Mrs. Behn's _The City Heiress; or,
+Sir Timothy Treatall_; D'Urfey's _The Royalist_; Mrs. Behn's _The False
+Count; or, A�New Way to Play an Old Game_; Banks' _Virtue Betray'd; or,
+Anna Bullen_; Mrs. Behn's _The Roundheads; or, The Good Old Cause_;
+Ravenscroft's _The London Cuckolds_; and _Romulus and Hersilia; or, The
+Sabine War_, an anonymous tragedy. There were also notable revivals of
+Randolph's _The Jealous Lovers_, and Fletcher's _The Maid in the Mill_.
+The two Companies amalgamated in the autumn, opening at the Theatre
+Royal, 16 November, for which occasion a special Prologue and Epilogue
+were written by Dryden. 4�December, Dryden and Lee's famous tragedy,
+_The Duke of Guise_, had a triumphant first night. It will be remembered
+that Mrs. Behn is writing of incidents which took place on 6 January,
+1683, Twelfth Night, so 'the last new plays' must refer to the
+productions of 1682. Of course, fresh songs, and probably musical
+entertainments, would be inserted at the different revivals of the older
+plays which were so frequent during that year.
+
+p. 20 _Statira, . . . Roxana._ In allusion to the two rival princesses
+for Alexander's love as they appear in Nat Lee's famous tragedy, _The
+Rival Queens; or, Alexander the Great_, produced at Drury Lane, 1677. It
+held the stage over a century and a half, longest of his plays, and is
+indeed an excellent piece. Originally, Hart played Alexander; Mrs.
+Marshall, the glowing Roxana; and Mrs. Boutell, Statira. Genest
+chronicles a performance at Drury Lane, 23 June, 1823, with Kean as
+Alexander; Mrs. W.�West, Statira; Mrs. Glover, Roxana.
+
+p. 24 _forty the Lurch_. 'Lurch' is a very common old term (now rare)
+'used in various games to denote a certain concluding state of the game
+in which one player is enormously ahead of the other; often a "maiden
+set" or love-game'--_N.E.D._ cf. Urquhart's _Rabelais_ (1653), II, xii:
+'By two of my table-men in the corner point I have gained the lurch.'
+Gouldman's _Latin Dictionary_ (1674), gives: 'A�lurch; _duplex palma,
+facilis victoria_.'
+
+p. 26 _to Locket's, where they din'd_. This fashionable Ordinary stood
+on the site of Drummond's Bank, Charing Cross. It was named from Adam
+Locket, the landlord, who died in 1688. In 1702, however, we find an
+Edward Locket, probably a son, as proprietor. The reputation of the
+house was on the wane during the latter years of Anne, and in the reign
+of George I its vogue entirely ceased. There are very frequent
+references. In _The Country Wife_ (1675), Horner tells Pinchwife: 'Thou
+art as shy of my kindness as a Lombard-street alderman of a courtier's
+civility at Locket's' (IV, iii). In Shadwell's _The Scowerers_ (1691),
+old Tope, replying to a health, cries: 'I'll answer you in a couple of
+Brimmers of Claret at Locket's at Dinner' (I, i). In Vanbrugh's _The
+Relapse_ (1696), Lord Foppington, when asked if he dines at home,
+surmises: ''tis passible I may dine with some of aur House at Lacket's,'
+which shows that it was then the very rendezvous of fashion and quality.
+
+p. 27 _A King and no King._ Langbaine testifies to the popularity of
+Beaumont and Fletcher's play both before and after the Restoration.
+Pepys saw it 14 March, 1661, and again, 26 September the same year. The
+1676 quarto 'as it is now acted at the Theatre Royal by his Majestie's
+Servants' gives a full cast with Hart as Arbaces; Kynaston, Tigranes;
+Mohun, Mardonius; Lacy, Bessus; Mrs. Betty Cox, Panthea; Mrs. Marshall,
+Spaconia. In the earlier production Nell Gwynne had acted Panthea. The
+two Companies amalgamated in 1682, opening 16 November. Hart 'never
+Acted more' after this date. Mrs. Marshall had retired in 1677; and in
+1683 Betterton was playing Arbaces with quite a new allotment of the
+other r�les.
+
+p. 27 _The Rose._ There are repeated references to this celebrated
+tavern which stood in Russell Street, Covent Garden. _vide_ _The Younger
+Brother_, I, ii (Vol.�IV), Motteux' Song: 'Thence to the Rose where he
+takes his three Flasks,' and the note on that passage.
+
+p. 29 _The London-Cuckolds._ Ravenscroft's rollicking comedy, which had
+been produced with great success at the Duke's House in 1682 (4to,
+1682), long kept the boards with undiminished favour, being very
+frequently given each season. Genest has the following true and
+pertinent remark: 'If it be the province of Comedy not to retail
+morality to a yawning pit but to make the audience laugh and to keep
+them in good humour this play must be allowed to be one of the best
+Comedies in the English language.' 29 October (the old Lord Mayor's
+Day), 1751, Garrick substituted _Eastward Hoe_ at Drury Lane for the
+annual performance of _The London Cuckolds_, a change not approved by
+the audience, who promptly damned their new fare. Ravenscroft's comedy
+was given that evening at Covent Garden, and on 9 November, the
+following year. It was also performed there in 1753. 9�November, 1754,
+George II ordered _The Provoked Husband_. It has often been stated
+(e.g. by Professor A.�W. Ward--'Ravenscroft'--_Dictionary of National
+Biography_) that this royal command gave _The London Cuckolds_ its final
+_cong�_, but such was neither the intent nor the case. The play is
+billed at Covent Garden, 10 November, 1755; in 1757; and 9 November,
+1758. Shuter excelled as Dashwell. A�two act version was played at
+Covent Garden, 10 April, 1782, and repeated on the 12th. This was for
+the benefit of Quick, who acted Doodle.
+
+p. 30 _Your Honour . . . must be set down at Long's._ Long's was a
+famous Ordinary in the Haymarket. It was here that in 1678 Lord Pembroke
+killed Mr. Coney with his fist. He was tried by his Peers and acquitted.
+There was at the same period a second tavern in Covent Garden kept by
+Ben Long, Long's brother. In Dryden's _Mr. Limberham_ (1678), Brainsick
+cries: 'I�have won a wager to be spent luxuriously at Long's.' In
+Etheredge's _The Man of Mode_ (1676), the following conversation
+occurs:--
+
+  _Bellair._ Where do you dine?
+  _Dorimant._ At Long's or Locket's.
+  _Medley._ At Long's let it be.
+
+p. 30 _the King's Box_. The seats in the boxes of the Restoration
+Theatre were let out severally to separate persons, and although the
+King had, of course, his own private box when he saw a play, yet when he
+was not present even the royal box was apportioned to individuals as the
+rest. There are many allusions to this which prove, moreover, that the
+front row of the King's box was the most conspicuous and highly coveted
+position in the house. In Etheredge's _The Man of Mode_ (1676),
+Dorimant, hearing of a young gentlewoman lately come to town and being
+taken with his own handsome face, wagers that she must be 'some awkward,
+ill-fashioned, country toad, who, not having above four dozen of black
+hairs on her head, has adorned her baldness with a large white fruz,
+that she may look sparkishly in the forefront of the King's box at an
+old play.' In Tom Brown's _Letters from the Dead to the Living_[1] we
+have one from Julian, 'late Secretary to the Muses,' to Will. Pierre of
+Lincoln's Inn Fields Playhouse, wherein, recalling how in his lampoons
+whilst he lived characters about town were shown in no very enviable
+light, he particularizes that 'the antiquated Coquet was told of her age
+and ugliness, tho' her vanity plac'd her in the first row in the King's
+box at the playhouse.'
+
+p. 31 _Jermain-Street._ Jermyn Street runs parallel with Piccadilly from
+the Haymarket to St. James. It was built _circa_ 1667, and derives its
+name from Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans. Shadwell spells it Germin
+Street, and it was in a house here that old Snarl was wont to receive
+amorous castigation at the hands of Mrs. Figgup.--_The Virtuoso_ (1676),
+III, ii. It was a fashionable quarter. From 1675 to 1681 the Duke of
+Marlborough, then Colonel Churchill, lived here. La Belle Stuart,
+Duchess of Richmond, had a house near Eagle Passage, 1681-3, and was
+succeeded therein by the Countess of Northumberland. Next door dwelt
+Henry Saville, Rochester's friend, 1681-3. Three doors from the Duchess
+again was living in 1683 Simon Verelest, the painter. In 1684 Sir
+William Soames followed him. In after years also there have been a large
+number of famous residents connected with this favourite street.
+
+p. 34 _after having . . . thrown their Majesties own Shoes and
+Stockings_. For this old bridal custom see _ante_, Vol. III (p.�223),
+_The Lucky Chance_, II, ii: 'we'll toss the Stocking'; and the note on
+that passage.
+
+    [Footnote 1: This actual letter was written by Boyer, together
+    with the reply which is dated 5 November, 1701. Julian was a
+    well-known journalistic scribbler and ribald ballader of the time.
+    William Peer [Pierre], a�young actor of little account, is only
+    cast for such walk-on r�les as Jasper, a�valet, in Shadwell's _The
+    Scowerers_ (1691); the Parson in D'Urfey's _Love for Money_
+    (1696).]
+
+
+Cross-References from Critical Notes: _The King of Bantam_
+
+Note to p. 27: _vide_ _The Younger Brother_, I, ii (Vol.�IV), Motteux'
+Song: 'Thence to the Rose where he takes his three Flasks,' and the note
+on that passage.
+
+  _Younger Brother_ text:
+
+    Then jogs to the _Play-house_, and chats with the Masks,
+    And thence to the _Rose_, where he takes his three Flasks.
+
+  _Younger Brother_ note:
+
+  _the Rose._ This celebrated house stood in Russell Street, Covent
+  Garden, and adjoined Drury Lane. There are innumerable references
+  to it. The greater portion of the 'Rose' was demolished in 1776,
+  when a new front was being built to the theatre.
+
+Note to p. 34: For this old bridal custom see _ante_, Vol. III (p.�223),
+_The Lucky Chance_, II, ii: 'we'll toss the Stocking'; and the note on
+that passage.
+
+  _Lucky Chance_ text:
+
+  Come, Gentlemen, one Bottle, and then--we'll toss the Stocking.
+
+  _Lucky Chance_ note:
+
+  _we'll toss the Stocking_. This merry old matrimonial custom in use
+  at the bedding of the happy pair is often alluded to. cf. Pepys,
+  8�February, 1663: 'Another story was how Lady Castlemaine, a few days
+  since, had Mrs. Stewart to an entertainment, and at night begun a
+  frolique that they two must be married; and married they were, with
+  ring and all other ceremonies of church service, and ribbands, and a
+  sack posset in bed and flinging the stocking; but in the close it is
+  said my Lady Castlemaine, who was the bridegroom, rose, and the King
+  come and take her place.'
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE _UNFORTUNATE HAPPY LADY_: A True History.
+
+
+I cannot omit giving the World an account, of the uncommon Villany of a
+Gentleman of a good Family in _England_ practis'd upon his Sister, which
+was attested to me by one who liv'd in the Family, and from whom I had
+the whole Truth of the Story. I�shall conceal the unhappy Gentleman's
+own, under the borrow'd Names of Sir _William Wilding_, who succeeded
+his Father Sir _Edward_, in an Estate of near 4000_l._ a Year,
+inheriting all that belong'd to him, except his Virtues. 'Tis true, he
+was oblig'd to pay his only Sister a Portion of 6000_l._ which he might
+very easily have done out of his Patrimony in a little Time, the Estate
+being not in the least incumbred. But the Death of his good Father gave
+a loose to the Extravagancy of his Inclinations, which till then was
+hardly observable. The first Discovery he made of his Humour, was in the
+extraordinary rich Equipage he prepar'd for his Journey to _London_,
+which was much greater than his fair and plentiful Fortune cou'd
+maintain, nor were his Expences any way inferior to the Figure he made
+here in Town; insomuch, that in less than a Twelve-Month, he was forc'd
+to return to his Seat in the Country, to Mortgage a part of his Estate
+of a Thousand Pounds a Year, to satisfy the Debts he had already
+contracted in his profuse Treats, Gaming and Women, which in a few Weeks
+he effected, to the great Affliction of his Sister _Philadelphia_, a
+young Lady of excellent Beauty, Education, and Virtue; who, fore-seeing
+the utter Ruin of the Estate, if not timely prevented, daily begg'd of
+him, with Prayers and Tears, that might have mov'd a _Scythian_ or wild
+_Arab_, or indeed any thing but him, to pay her her Portion. To which,
+however, he seemingly consented, and promis'd to take her to Town with
+him, and there give her all the Satisfaction she cou'd expect: And
+having dipp'd some paltry Acres of Land, deeper than ever Heaven dipp'd
+'em in Rain, he was as good as his Word, and brought her to Town with
+him, where he told her he would place her with an ancient Lady, with
+whom he had contracted a Friendship at his first coming to _London_;
+adding, that she was a Lady of incomparable Morals, and of a matchless
+Life and Conversation. _Philadelphia_ took him in the best Sense, and
+was very desirous to be planted in the same House with her, hoping she
+might grow to as great a Perfection in such excellent Qualifications, as
+she imagined 'em. About four Days therefore after they had been in Town,
+she sollicits her Brother to wait on that Lady with her: He reply'd,
+that it is absolutely Necessary and Convenient that I should first
+acquaint her with my Design, and beg that she will be pleas'd to take
+you into her Care, and this shall be my chief Business to Day:
+Accordingly, that very Hour he went to the Lady _Beldams_, his reverend
+and honourable Acquaintance, whom he prepar'd for the Reception of his
+Sister, who he told her was a Cast-Mistress of his, and desir'd her
+Assistance to prevent the Trouble and Charge, which she knew such Cattle
+would bring upon young Gentlemen of plentiful Estates. To morrow Morning
+about Eleven, I'll leave her with your Ladyship, who, I�doubt not, will
+give her a wholesome Lesson or two before Night, and your Reward is
+certain. My Son, (return'd she) I�know the Greatness of your Spirit, the
+Heat of your Temper has both warm'd and inflam'd me! I�joy to see you in
+Town again--Ah! That I could but recal one twenty Years for your
+Sake!--Well--no matter.--I won't forget your Instructions, nor my Duty
+to Morrow: In the mean time, I'll drink your Health in a Bottle of
+_Sherry_ or two, O! Cry your Mercy, good my Lady _Beldam_, (said the
+young Debauchee) I�had like to have forfeited my Title to your Care, in
+not remembring to leave you an Obligation. There are three Guinea's,
+which, I�hope, will plead for me till to Morrow.--So--Your Ladyship's
+Servant humbly kisses your Hand. Your Honours most Obedient Servant,
+most gratefully Acknowledges your Favours.--Your humble Servant, Good
+Sir _William_, added she, seeing him leave her in haste.
+
+Never were three Persons better pleas'd for a Time than this unnatural
+Man, his sweet innocent Sister, and the Lady _Beldam_; upon his return
+to _Philadelphia_, who could not rest that Night, for thinking on the
+Happiness she was going to enjoy in the Conversation of so virtuous a
+Lady as her Brother's Acquaintance, to whom she was in Hopes that she
+might discover her dearest Thoughts, and complain of Sir _William's_
+Extravagance and Unkindness, without running the Hazzard of being
+betray'd; and at the same Time, reasonably expect from so pious a Lady
+all the Assistance within her Capacity. On the other side, her Brother
+hugg'd himself in the Prospect he had of getting rid of his own Sister,
+and the Payment of 6000_l._ for the Sum of forty or fifty Guineas, by
+the Help and Discretion of this sage Matron; who, for her part, by this
+Time, had reckon'd up, and promis'd to herself an Advantage of at least
+three hundred Pounds, one way or other by this bargain.
+
+About Ten the next Morning, Sir _William_ took Coach with his Sister,
+for the old Lady's Enchanted Castle, taking only one Trunk of hers with
+them for the present, promising her to send her other Things to her the
+next Day. The young Lady was very joyfully and respectfully received by
+her Brother's venerable Acquaintance, who was mightily charm'd with her
+Youth and Beauty. A�Bottle of the Best was then strait brought in, and
+not long after a very splendid Entertainment for Breakfast: The
+Furniture was all very modish and rich, and the Attendance was suitable.
+Nor was the Lady _Beldam's_ Conversation less obliging and modest, than
+Sir _William's_ Discourse had given _Philadelphia_ occasion to expect.
+After they had eaten and drank what they thought Convenient, the
+reverend old Lady led 'em out of the Parlour to shew 'em the House,
+every Room of which they found answerably furnish'd to that whence they
+came. At last she led 'em into a very pleasant Chamber, richly hung, and
+curiously adorn'd with the Pictures of several beautiful young Ladies,
+wherein there was a Bed which might have been worthy the Reception of a
+Dutchess: This, Madam, (said she) is your Apartment, with the
+Anti-chamber, and little Withdrawing-Room. Alas, Madam! (returned the
+dear innocent unthinking Lady) you set too great a Value on your
+Servant; but I rather think your Ladyship designs me this Honour for the
+sake of Sir _William_, who has had the Happiness of your Acquaintance
+for some Months: Something for Sir _William_, (returned the venerable
+Lady _Beldam_) but much more for your Ladyship's own, as you will have
+Occasion to find hereafter. I�shall Study to deserve your Favours and
+Friendship, Madam, reply'd _Philadelphia_: I hope you will, Madam, said
+the barbarous Man. But my Business now calls me hence; to Morrow at
+Dinner I will return to you, and Order the rest of your Things to be
+brought with me. In the mean while (pursu'd the Traytor, kissing his
+Sister, as he thought and hop'd the last time) be as chearful as you
+can, my Dear! and expect all you can wish from me. A�thousand Thanks, my
+dearest Brother, return'd she, with Tears in her Eyes: And Madam, (said
+he to his old mischievous Confederate, giving her a very rich Purse
+which held 50 Guineas) be pleas'd to accept this Trifle, as an humble
+Acknowledgment of the great Favour you do this Lady, and the Care of
+her, which you promise; and I'm sure she cannot want. --So, once more,
+(added�he) my Dear! and, Madam! I�am your humble Servant _Jusqu'
+a�Revoir_, and went out bowing. Heavens bless my dear Brother! (cry'd
+_Philadelphia_) your Honour's most Faithful and obedient Servant, said
+the venerable _Beldam_.
+
+No sooner was the treacherous Brother gone, than the old Lady taking
+_Philadelphia_ by the Hand, led her into the Parlour; where she began to
+her to this Effect: _If I mistake not, Madam, you were pleas'd to call
+Sir +William+ Brother once or twice of late in Conversation: Pray be
+pleas'd to satisfy my Curiosity so far as to inform me in the Truth of
+this Matter? Is it really so or not?_ _Philadelphia_ reply'd, blushing,
+your Ladyship strangely surprizes me with this Question: For, I�thought
+it had been past your Doubt that it is so. Did not he let you know so
+much himself? I�humbly beg your Pardon, Madam, (returned the true
+Offspring of old Mother _Eve_) that I have so visibly disturb'd you by
+my Curiosity: But, indeed, Madam, Sir _William_ did not say your
+Ladyship was his Sister, when he gave me the Charge of you, as of the
+nearest and dearest Friend he had in the World. Now our Father and
+Mother are dead, (said the sweet Innocent) who never had more Children
+than us two, who can be a nearer or dearer Friend unto me, than my
+Brother Sir _William_, or than I his Sister to him? None? Certainly,
+you'll excuse me, Madam, (answer'd t'other) a�Wife or Mistress may.
+A�Wife indeed, (return'd the beautiful Innocent) has the Pre-eminence,
+and perhaps, a�Mistress too, if honourably lov'd and sought for in
+Marriage: But, (she continu'd) I�can assure your Ladyship that he has
+not a Wife, nor did I ever hear he had a Mistress yet. Love in Youth
+(said old Venerable) is very fearful of Discovery. I�have known, Madam,
+a�great many fine young Gentlemen and Ladies, who have conceal'd their
+violent Passions and greater Affection, under the Notion and Appellation
+of Brother and Sister. And your Ladyship imagines, Sir _William_ and I
+do so? reply'd _Philadelphia_, by way of Question. 'Twere no imprudence,
+if you did, Madam, return'd old Lady _Beldam_, with all the Subtlety she
+had learn'd from the Serpent. Alas! Madam, (reply'd she) there is
+nothing like Secrecy in Love: 'Tis the very Life and Soul of it! I�have
+been young myself, and have known it by Experience. But, all this,
+Madam, (interrupted _Philadelphia_, something nettl'd at her Discourse)
+all this can't convince me, that I am not the true and only Sister both
+by Father and Mother of Sir _William Wilding_; however, he wou'd impose
+upon your Ladyship, for what Ends, indeed, I�know not, unless
+(unhappily, which Heaven forbid!) he designs to gain your Ladyship's
+Assistance in defeating me of the Portion left me by my Father: But,
+(she continued with Tears) I�have too great an Assurance of your Virtue,
+to Fear that you will consent to so wicked a Practise. You may be
+confident, Madam, (said t'other) I�never will. And, supposing that he
+were capable of perpetrating so base an Act of himself, yet if your
+Ladyship will be guided and directed by me, I�will shew you the Means of
+living Happy and Great, without your Portion, or your Brother's Help; so
+much I am charm'd with your Beauty and Innocence.
+
+But, pray, Madam, (pursu'd she) what is your Portion? And what makes you
+doubt your Brother's Kindness? _Philadelphia_ then told her, how much
+her Brother was to pay her, and gave her an Account of his
+Extravagancies, as far as she knew 'em; to which t'other was no
+Stranger; and (doubtless) cou'd have put a Period to her Sorrows with
+her Life, had she given her as perfect a Relation of his riotous and
+vicious Practices, as she was capable of: But she had farther Business
+with her Life, and, in short, bid her be of good Comfort, and lay all
+her Care on her, and then she cou'd not miss of continual Happiness. The
+sweet Lady took all her Promises for sterling, and kissing her Impious
+Hand, humbly return'd her Thanks. Not long after they went to Dinner;
+and in the Afternoon, three or four young Ladies came to visit the Right
+Reverend the Lady _Beldam_; who told her new Guest, that these were all
+her Relations, and no less than her own Sister's Children. The Discourse
+among 'em was general and very modest, which lasted for some Hours: For,
+our Sex seldom wants matter of Tattle. But, whether their Tongues were
+then miraculously wearied, or that they were tir'd with one continued
+Scene of Place, I�won't pretend to determine: But they left the Parlour
+for the Garden, where after about half an Hour's Walk, there was a very
+fine Desert of Sweetmeats and Fruits brought into one of the Arbours.
+_Cherbetts_, _Ros Solis_, rich and small Wines, with Tea, Chocolate,
+_&c._ compleated the old Lady's Treat; the Pleasure of which was much
+heighten'd by the Voices of two of her Ladyship's Sham-Nieces, who sung
+very charmingly. The Dear, sweet Creature, thought she had happily got
+into the Company of Angels: But (alas!) they were Angels that had fallen
+more than once. She heard talk of Nunneries, and having never been out
+of her own Country till within four or five Days, she had certainly
+concluded she had been in one of those Religious-Houses now, had she but
+heard a Bell ring, and seen 'em kneel to Prayers, and make use of their
+Beads, as she had been told those happy people do. However it was, she
+was extremely pleas'd with the Place and Company. So nearly do's Hell
+counterfeit Heaven sometimes. At last, said one of the white Devils,
+wou'd my dear _Tommy_ were here! O�Sister! (cry'd another) you won't be
+long without your wish: For my Husband and he went out together, and
+both promis'd to be here after the Play. Is my Brother Sir _Francis_
+with him there? (ask'd the first) yes, (answer'd the third) Sir _Thomas_
+and Sir _Francis_ took Coach from St. _James's_, about two Hours since:
+We shall be excellent Company when they come, (said a fourth); I�hope
+they'll bring the Fiddlers with 'em, added the first: Don't you love
+Musick, Madam? (ask'd the old Lady _Beldam_) Sometimes, Madam, (reply'd
+_Philadelphia_) but now I am out o'tune myself. A�little harmless Mirth
+will chear your drooping Spirits, my dear, (return'd t'other, taking her
+by the Hand) come! These are all my Relations, as I told you, Madam; and
+so consequently are their Husbands. Are these Ladies all marry'd, Madam?
+_Philadelphia_ ask'd. All, all, my dear Soul! (reply'd the insinuating
+Mother of Iniquity;) and thou shalt have a Husband too, e're long. Alas,
+Madam! (return'd the fair Innocent) I�have no Merit, nor Money: Besides,
+I�never yet could Love so well as to make Choice of one Man before
+another.
+
+How long have you liv'd then, Madam? (ask'd the Lady _Beldam_) too long
+by almost sixteen Years, (reply'd _Philadelphia_) had Heaven seen good.
+This Conversation lasted till Word was brought that Sir _Francis_ and
+Sir _Thomas_, with Two other Gentlemen were just lighted at the Gate:
+Which so discompos'd the fair Innocent, that trembling, she begg'd leave
+to retire to her Chamber. To which, after some Perswasion to the
+contrary, the venerable _Beldam_ waited on her. For, these were none of
+the Sparks to whom _Philadelphia_ was design'd to be Sacrific'd. In her
+Retirement, the Beautiful dear Creature had the Satisfaction of venting
+her Grief in Tears, and addressing herself to Heaven, on which only she
+trusted, notwithstanding all the fair Promises of her reverend Hostess;
+she had not been retir'd above an Hour, e're a She-attendant waited on
+her, to know if she wanted any thing, and what she wou'd please to have
+for her Supper; if she wou'd not give her Lady the Honour of her Company
+below? To which she return'd, that she wou'd not Sup, and that she
+wanted nothing but Rest, which she wou'd presently seek in Bed. This
+Answer brought up the Officious old Lady herself; who, by all Means
+wou'd needs see her undress'd, for other Reasons more than a bare
+Compliment; which she perform'd with a great deal of Ceremony, and a
+Diligence that seem'd more than double. For she had then the Opportunity
+of observing the Delicacy of her Skin, the fine turn of her Limbs, and
+the richness of her Night-dress, part of the Furniture of her Trunk. As
+soon as she had cover'd herself, she kiss'd and wish'd her a good
+Repose. The dear Soul, as Innocent and White as her Linen, return'd her
+Thanks, and address'd herself to Sleep; out of which she was waken'd by
+a loud Consort of Musick, in less than two Hours time, which continu'd
+till long after Midnight. This occasion'd strange and doubtful Thoughts
+in her, tho' she was altogether so unskill'd in these Mysteries, that
+she cou'd not guess the right Meaning. She apprehended, that (possibly)
+her Brother had a Mistress, from the Lady _Beldam's_ Discourse, and that
+this was their Place of Assignation: Suspecting too, that either Sir
+_Francis_, or Sir _Thomas_, of whom she had heard not long before, was
+Sir _William_, her Brother. The Musick and all the Noise in the House
+ceas'd about four a Clock in the Morning; when she again fell into a
+Sleep, that took away the Sense of her Sorrows, and Doubts 'till Nine;
+when she was again visited from her Lady, by the same She-attendant, to
+know how she had rested, and if she wou'd Please to Command her any
+Service. _Philadelphia_ reply'd, That she had rested very well most Part
+of the Morning, and that she wanted nothing, but to know how her Lady
+had Slept, and whether she were in Health, unless it were the Sight of
+her Brother. The Servant return'd with this Answer to her Lady, while
+_Philadelphia_ made shift to rise, and begin to Dress without an
+Assistant; but she had hardly put on anything more than her Night-gown,
+e're the Lady _Beldam_ herself came in her _Dishabille_, to assure her
+of her Brother's Company with 'em at Dinner, exactly at One a Clock; and
+finding _Philadelphia_ doing the Office of a Waiting-woman to herself,
+call'd up the same Servant, and in a great Heat (in�which however she
+took Care to make Use of none of her familiar develish Dialect) ask'd
+the Reason that she durst leave the Lady when she was Rising. The Wench
+trembling, reply'd, That indeed the Lady did not let her know that she
+had any Thoughts of Rising. Well then (said her seeming offended Lady)
+stir not from her now, I�charge you, 'till she shall think fit to
+dismiss you, and Command your Absence. Dear Madam, Good Morrow to you,
+(said she to _Philadelphia_) I'll make haste and Dress too. Good Morrow
+to your Ladyship (return'd the design'd Victim) when she was _Habille_,
+she desir'd the Servant to withdraw; after which she betook herself to
+her Devotion; at the end of which the Lady _Beldam_ return'd, attended
+by a Servant, who brought some Bread and Wine for her Breakfast; which
+might then be seasonable enough to _Philadelphia_; who cou'd not forbear
+discovering the Apprehensions she had of her Brother's Unkindness, still
+entertaining her _Reverence_, with the Fear she had of his
+Disappointment that Day at Dinner; which t'other oppos'd with all the
+seeming Reasons her Art cou'd suggest, 'till the Clock had struck
+Twelve; when a Servant came to tell the Lady _Beldam_, that one Sir
+_William Wilding_ wou'd certainly wait on her precisely at One, and
+desir'd that he might Dine in the young Lady's Apartment, to avoid being
+seen by any Visitants that might come; and besides, that he had invited
+a Gentleman, his particular Friend, to Dinner with him there. This
+Message being deliver'd aloud by the Servant, was no little Satisfaction
+to the poor desponding young Lady, who discours'd very chearfully of
+indifferent Matters, 'till the Clock gave 'em Notice that the Hour was
+come; within three Minutes after which, Word was brought to the Lady
+_Beldam_, that a Gentleman below enquir'd for Sir _William Wilding_,
+whom she immediately went down to receive, and led up to _Philadelphia_.
+Madam, (cry'd the great Mistress of her Art) this is the Gentleman whom
+Sir _William_ has invited to Dinner with us; and I am very Happy to see
+him, for he is my worthy Friend, and of a long Acquaintance. Trust me,
+Madam, he is a Man of Honour, and has a very large Estate: I�doubt not
+(added she) that you will find his Merits in his Conversation. Here
+_Gracelove_, for that was the Gentleman's Name, saluted _Philadelphia_,
+and acquitted himself like a Person of good Sense and Education, in his
+first Address to her; which she return'd with all the Modesty and
+ingenuous Simplicity that was still proper to her. At last she ask'd him
+how long he thought it wou'd be e're Sir _William_ came? To which he
+reply'd, that Sir _William_ told him, unless he were there exactly at
+half an Hour after One, they shou'd not stay Dinner for him; that he had
+not parted with him much above a Quarter of an Hour, when he left him
+engag'd with particular Company, about some weighty Business: But
+however, that, if he shou'd be so unhappy as to lose their Conversation
+at Dinner, he wou'd not fail to wait on 'em by Four at farthest. The
+young Lady seem'd a little uneasie at this; but the Gentleman appearing
+so very Modest, and speaking it with such an assur'd Gravity, took away
+all Thoughts of Suspicion. To say Truth, _Gracelove_ was a very honest,
+modest, worthy and handsome Person; and had the Command, at present, of
+a many Thousand Pounds, he was by Profession a _Turkey_ Merchant: He had
+Travell'd much, for his Age, not having then reach'd Thirty, and had
+seen most of the Courts in _Christendom_: He was a Man of a sweet
+Temper, of just Principles, and of inviolable Friendship, where he
+promis'd; which was no where, but where 'twas merited. The Minute came
+then at length, but without any Sir _William_; so Dinner was serv'd up
+in the Room next to _Philadelphia's_ Bed-chamber. What they had was Nice
+and Seasonable; and they were all Three as Pleasant as cou'd be
+expected, without Sir _William_; to whose Health the Glass went round
+once or twice. Dinner over, and the Table clear'd, the old Lady _Beldam_
+entreated Mr. _Gracelove_ to entertain the young Lady with a Discourse
+of his Travels, and of the most remarkable Passages and Encounters of
+'em, which he perform'd with a Modesty and Gravity peculiar to himself;
+and in some part of his Discourse mov'd the innocent Passions of the
+beauteous and compassionate _Philadelphia_; who was as attentive as she
+us'd to be in Church at Divine Service. When the old Lady perceiv'd that
+he had made an end, or at least, that he desir'd to proceed no farther,
+she took Occasion to leave 'em together, in haste; pretending, that she
+had forgotten to give Orders to one of her Servants, about a Business of
+Moment, and that she wou'd return to 'em in a very little Time. The
+Gentleman, you may believe, was very well pleas'd with her Retreat,
+since he had a Discourse to make to _Philadelphia_ of a quite contrary
+Nature to the Preceding, which requir'd Privacy: But how grateful her
+Absence was to _Philadelphia_, we may judge by the Sequel. Madam, (said
+_Gracelove_) how do you like the Town? Have you yet seen any Man here
+whom you cou'd Love? Alas, Sir! (she reply'd) I�have not seen the Town,
+only in a Coach, as I pass'd along, nor ever was in any House, except
+this and another, where my Brother lodg'd: And to your other Question I
+must Answer, that I Love all Men. That's generous, indeed, Madam!
+(cry'd�he) there is then some hope that I am one of the Number. No
+doubt, Sir, (she return'd) that I Love you as well as any, except Sir
+_William_. Is he the happy Man then, Madam? (said _Gracelove_.) If to be
+loved best by me, may make any Man happy, doubtless it must be he, for
+he is my own Brother. I�fancy, Madam, (return'd�he) that you may make me
+as dear a Relation to you, as Sir _William_. How is that possible, Sir?
+she ask'd. Thus, Madam, (replied he, drawing closer to her) by our
+nearer Approaches to one another. O, Heaven defend me! (cried she aloud)
+what do you mean? Take away your Hand; you uncivil Man! Help! Madam! my
+Lady! O, (said _Gracelove_) she's gone purposely out of hearing. Am I
+betray'd then? She cried. Betray'd! as if your pretty innocent Ladyship
+did not know where you were lodged. Ah, Lady, (said�he) this Faint will
+never do. Come, Child, (pursued�he) here are an hundred Guineas for you;
+and I promise you Yearly as much, and Two Hundred with every Child that
+I shall get on thy sweet Body: Faith I love thee, thou pretty Creature.
+Come! let's be better acquainted! you know my Meaning. Hell does, no
+doubt of (she return'd!) O�Monster a Man! I�hate the Sight of you. With
+that she flung from him, and ran into the Bed-chamber, where she thought
+to have locked herself in; but the Key was conveyed into his Pocket.
+Thither, therefore, he pursued her, crying, Ah, Madam, this is the
+proper Field for our Dispute. Perceiving her Error, and animated by
+Despair, she rushed between him and the Door, into the outward Room
+again, he still following, and dodging her from Chair to Chair, she
+still Shrieking. At last (cried�he) a�Parley, Madam, with you. Let me
+ask you one Question, and will you Answer me directly and truly to it?
+Indeed, I�will, (said she) if it be Civil. Don't you know then, that you
+are in a naughty House, and that old _Beldam_ is a rank Procuress, to
+whom I am to give Two hundred Guineas for your Maidenhead? O�Heaven
+(cried she, kneeling with Tears gushing out from her dear Eyes) thou
+Asserter and Guardian of Innocence! protect me from the impious
+Practices intended against me! Then looking steadfastly on him, Sir,
+(pursued she) I�can but Difficultly guess what you mean: But I find,
+that unless you prove what at first you seemed to me, I�would say, an
+honest worthy Gentleman, I�shall be in danger of eternal Ruin. You, Sir,
+are the only Person that may yet Preserve me. Therefore I beseech you,
+Sir, hear my Story, with the Injuries and Afflictions that so dreadfully
+torment me; of which, I�am sure, none of those _Barbarians_, of which
+you had Occasion to speak but now, would have been guilty! O�hear, and
+help me! for Heaven's Sake, hear and help me! I�will, poor Creature,
+(return'd�he) methinks I now begin to see my Crime and thy Innocence in
+thy Words and Looks. Here she recounted to him all the Accidents of her
+Life, since her Father's Decease, to that very Day, e're _Gracelove_
+came to Dinner. And now (cry'd she, sobbing and weeping) how dare I
+trust this naughty Brother again? Can I be safe with him, think you,
+Sir? O! no; thou dear sweet Creature! by no Means. O�infernal Monsters,
+Brother and Bawd! If you distrust that I am yet his Sister, here, Sir,
+take this Key, (said she) and open that Trunk within, where you will
+find Letters from him to me in his own Hand; and from my own dear dead
+Father too, Sir _Edward_, that gracious, that good Man! He shew'd us
+both the Paths of Virtue: which I have not yet forsaken. Pray satisfy
+me, Sir, and see the Truth! For your Satisfaction I will, Madam,
+(said�he) but I am now fully convinc'd that you have greater Beauties
+within, than those I admire without. Saying this, he open'd the Trunk,
+where he read a Line or two from her Father, and as many from her
+Brother, which having again laid down, return'd to her, with this
+Advice: I�see, Madam, (said�he) that you have Money there, and several
+Things of Value, which I desire you to secure about you this Moment; for
+I mean to deliver you out of this cursed Place, if you dare put any
+Confidence in a Stranger, after your own Brother has acted the Part of
+so great a Villain; if you dare trust a Stranger too, Madam, who had
+himself a Design upon you; Heaven forgive me for it! but by all Things
+sacred, I�find my Error: I�pity you, and I fear I shall love you. Do you
+fear that, Sir? (said she) Why I love you dearly now, because I see you
+are going to be good again; that is, you are going to be yourself again.
+I�hope, nay, I�resolve I will, tho' it cost me my Life (said�he.) Can
+you submit, Madam, to attend on a young Lady of my Acquaintance here in
+Town, 'till I can provide better for you? O�I can be any Thing;
+a�Chamber-Maid, a�Cook-Maid, a�Scullion, what you shall think fit, tho'
+never so mean, that is not naughty. Well, Madam, (said�he) compose your
+self then, and seem a little pleasant when I bring up that old Factoress
+of Hell. I�will endeavour it, Sir, she return'd; and he went down to the
+Devil's chief Agent, to whom he said, that the poor Thing was at first
+very uneasy, but that now she had consented to go along with him for an
+Hour or two to some other Place, doubting your Secrecy; for she would
+not have her Brother know it, as she calls him, for a thousand Worlds,
+and more Money. Well, my Son, (reply'd old _Beldam_) you may take her
+with you: But you remember your Bargain. O�fie, Mother! (cry'd�he) did
+you ever know me false to you? No, no, you smock'd-fac'd Wag, (said she)
+but be sure you bring her again to Night, for fear Sir _William_ should
+come. Never doubt it! Come up with me, (cry'd�he) you'll see a strange
+Alteration, I�believe. To _Philadelphia_ they came then, whom they found
+walking about the Room, and looking something more pleasantly than she
+had ever done since she came thither. After she had taken her Money, and
+other Things of Value, so, Madam, (said _Beldam_) how does your Ladiship
+now? I�find, the Sight of a young handsome Gentleman has work'd Wonders
+with you in a little Time: I�understand you are going to take a Walk
+with my worthy Friend here, and 'tis well done: I�dare trust you with
+him, but with no other Man living, except Sir _William_. Madam,
+(return'd the fair afflicted Lady) I�am strangely oblig'd to you for
+your Care of me, and am sure I shall never be able to return your
+Obligations as I ought, and as I could wish. You won't stay late, Mr.
+_Gracelove_? (said the Mother of Mischief.) No, no, (reply'd�he) I�will
+only shew the Lady a Play, and return to Supper. What is play'd to
+Night? (ask'd the old One) _The Cheats, +Mother+, the Cheats._ (answer'd
+_Gracelove_.) Ha, (said _Beldam_, laughing) a�very pretty Comedy,
+indeed! Ay, if well play'd, return'd he. At these Words, they went down,
+where a Coach was call'd; which carry'd 'em to Counsellor _Fairlaw's_
+House, in _Great Lincolns-Inn-Fields_, whom they found accidentally at
+Home; but his Lady and Daughter were just gone to Chapel, being then
+turn'd of Five. _Gracelove_ began his Apology to the good old
+Counsellor, who was his Relation, for bringing a strange Lady thither,
+with a Design to place her in his Family: But Sir, continu'd he, if you
+knew her sorrowful Story, you would be as ambitious of entertaining her,
+as I am earnest to entreat it of you. A�very beautiful Lady 'tis,
+(return'd the Counsellor) and very modest, I�believe. That I can witness
+(reply'd t'other.) Alas, Sir! (said the fair Unfortunate) I�have nothing
+but my Modesty and honest Education to recommend me to your Regard. I�am
+wrong'd and forsaken by my nearest Relation; then she wept
+extravagantly: That Gentleman can give you an Account of my Misfortunes,
+if he pleases, with greater Ease and less Trouble than my self. Not with
+less Trouble, believe me, Madam; (return'd _Gracelove_) and then began
+to inform _Fairlaw_ in every Point of her unhappy Circumstances. The
+good old Gentleman heard 'em with Amazement and Horror; but told her,
+however, that she need not despond, for he would take Care to right her
+against her Brother; and, that in the mean Time she should be as welcome
+to him as any of his nearest Kindred, except his Wife and Daughter.
+_Philadelphia_ would have knelt to thank him; but he told her, that
+humble Posture was due to none but Heaven, and the King sometimes. In a
+little While after, the Lady _Fairlaw_ and her Daughter came Home, who
+were surpriz'd at the Sight of a Stranger, but more at her Beauty, and
+most of all at her Story, which the good old Gentleman himself could not
+forbear relating to 'em: Which ended, the Mother and Daughter both
+kindly and tenderly embrac'd her, promising her all the Assistance
+within their Power, and bid her a thousand Welcomes. _Gracelove_ stay'd
+there 'till after Supper, and left her extremely satisfy'd with her new
+Station. 'Twas here she fix'd then; and her Deportment was so obliging,
+that they would not part with her for any Consideration. About three
+Days after her coming from that lewd Woman's House, _Gracelove_ took a
+Constable and some other Assistants, and went to _Beldam's_ to demand
+the Trunk, and what was in it, which at first her Reverence deny'd to
+return, 'till Mr. Constable produc'd the Emblem of his Authority, upon
+which it was deliver'd, without so much as re-minding _Gracelove_ of his
+Bargain; who then pretended he would search the House for Sir _William
+Wilding_; but her graceless Reverence swore most devoutly that he had
+never been there, and that she had neither seen nor heard from him since
+the Day he left _Philadelphia_ with her. With these Things, and this
+Account he return'd to Counsellor _Fairlaw's_, who desir'd _Gracelove_,
+if possible, to find out Sir _William_, and employ'd several others on
+the same Account. In less than a Month's Time _Gracelove_ had the good
+Fortune to find him at his Lodgings in _Soho-Square_, where he
+discours'd him about his Sister's Portion, and desir'd Sir _William_ to
+take some speedy Care for the Payment of it; otherwise she had Friends
+that would oblige him to it, tho' never so contrary to his Intentions.
+_Wilding_ ask'd where she was? t'other enquir'd where he left her? Sir
+_William_ reply'd, that he had plac'd her with an old grave Gentlewoman
+of his Acquaintance, and that he thought she was there still. No, Sir,
+(return'd _Gracelove_) I have deliver'd her out of the Jaws of Perdition
+and Hell. Come, Sir _William_, (answer'd�he) 'twas impiously done, to
+leave your beautiful, young, and virtuous Sister, to the Management of
+that pernicious Woman. I�found her at old _Beldam's_, who would have
+prostituted her to me for two hundred Guineas; but her heavenly Virtues
+might have secur'd and guarded her from more violent Attempts than mine.
+Blush, if you can, Sir! and repent of this! It will become you. If not,
+Sir, you will hear farther from your Servant, added he, and left him
+staring after him. This Discourse was a great Mortification to the
+Knight, whose Conscience, harden'd as it was, felt yet some Pain by it.
+He found he was not like to continue safe or at Ease there, where he
+immediately retreated into a Place of Sanctuary, call'd the _Savoy_,
+whither his whole Equipage was remov'd as soon as possible, he having
+left Order with his Servants, to report that he went out of Town that
+very Afternoon for his own Country. _Gracelove_ in the mean Time
+return'd to the Counsellor's, with a great deal of Joy, for having
+discover'd Sir _William_ at his Lodgings, which was likewise no little
+Satisfaction to _Fairlaw_, his Lady and Daughter; _Philadelphia_ only
+was disturb'd when she heard the good old Gentleman threaten to lay her
+Brother fast enough: But, alas! he was too cunning for 'em; for in a
+whole Twelvemonth after, all which Time they made Enquiry, and narrowly
+search'd for him, they could not see him, nor any one that could give an
+Account of him, for he had chang'd his true Name and Title, for that of
+'Squire _Sportman_. The farther Pursuit of him then seem'd fruitless to
+'em, and they were forc'd to be contented with their Wishes to find him.
+
+_Gracelove_ by this Time had entertain'd the sincerest Affections and
+noblest Passion that Man can be capable of, for _Philadelphia_; of which
+he had made her sensible, who had at that Time comply'd with his
+honourable Demands, had she not entreated him to expect a kind Turn of
+Providence, which might, (happily) e're long, put her in Possession of
+her Right; without which, she told him, she could not consent to marry
+him, who had so plentiful a Fortune, and she nothing but her Person and
+Innocence. How, Madam! (cry'd�he) have you no Love in Store for me! Yes,
+Sir, (return'd she) as much as you can wish I have in Store for you, and
+so I beg it may be kept 'till a better Opportunity. Well, Madam,
+(said�he) I�must leave you for some Months, perhaps for a whole Year;
+I�have receiv'd Letters of Advice that urge the Necessity of my going to
+_Turkey_; I have not a Week's Time to endeavour so dreaded a Separation
+as I must suffer; therefore, thou beautiful, thou dear, thou virtuous
+Creature, let me begin now! Here, thou tenderest Part of my Soul!
+(continu'd he, giving her a rich Diamond Ring) wear this 'till my
+Return! I�hope the Sight of it may sometimes re-call the dying Memory of
+_Gracelove_ to your better-busy'd Thoughts. Ah, _Gracelove_! (said she)
+nothing can so well, nothing I am sure can better employ my Thoughts,
+than thy dear self: Heaven only excepted. They enlarg'd a great deal
+more on this Subject at that Time; but the Night before his Departure
+was entirely spent in Sighs, Vows, and Tears, on both Sides. In the
+Morning, after he had again entreated his Cousin's, and the Lady's, and
+her Daughter's Care and Kindness to _Philadelphia_, the remaining and
+best Part of his Soul, with one hearty Kiss, accompany'd with Tears, he
+took a long Farewel of his dear Mistress, who pursu'd him with her Eyes,
+'till they could give her no farther Intelligence of him; and they
+help'd her Kindness to him, and eas'd her Grief for his Absence in
+weeping for above a Week together, when in private. He never omitted
+writing to her and his Cousin by every Opportunity, for near nine
+Months, as he touch'd at any Port; but afterwards they could not hear
+from him for above half a Year; when, by Accident, the Counsellor met a
+Gentleman of _Gracelove's_ Acquaintance at a Coffee-House, who gave him
+an Account, that the Ship and he were both cast away, near five Months
+since; that most if not all of the Ship's Company perish'd; of which,
+'twas fear'd, _Gracelove_ was one, having never since been heard of.
+That his Loss in that Ship amounted to above twelve thousand Pounds:
+With this dreadful and amazing News the good old Gentleman returns Home,
+afflicts his poor sorrowful Lady and Daughter, and almost kills unhappy
+_Philadelphia_; who the next Day, by mere Chance, and from a Stranger,
+who came on Business to the Counsellor, heard, that one Sir _William
+Wilding_, an extravagant, mad, young Spark of such a County, who lately
+went by the borrow'd Name and Title of 'Squire _Sportman_, had mortgag'd
+all his Estate, which was near four thousand a Year, and carry'd the
+Money over with him into _France_ on Saturday last. This, added to the
+former News, put so great a Check on her Spirits, that she immediately
+dropp'd down in a Swoon; whence she only recover'd, to fall into what
+was of a much more dangerous Consequence, a�violent Feaver, which held
+her for near six Weeks, e're she could get Strength enough to go down
+Stairs: In all which Time, Madam _Fairlaw_ and _Eugenia_, her Daughter,
+attended her as carefully and constantly, as if they had been her own
+Mother and Sister: The good old Counsellor still commending and
+encouraging their Care. The Roses and Lillies at last took their Places
+again; but the Clouds of her Sorrow were still but too visible. Two
+Years more past, without one Word of Advice from _Gracelove_ or any
+Account of him from any one else; insomuch, that they all concluded he
+was certainly dead: And, 'twas true, indeed, that his Ship and he were
+cast away, much about that Time that the Gentleman gave _Fairlaw_ a
+Relation: That 'twas certain he had lost above 12000_l._ and had like
+to have lost his Life; but being very expert in Swimming, he got to
+Shoar upon the Coast of _Barbary_, the Wreck happening not to be above
+three Leagues thence; he was in almost as bad a Condition as if he had
+been drown'd, for here he was made a Prisoner to one of the Natives; in
+which miserable Circumstance he lanquish'd for above six Years, for Want
+of a Ransom; which he had often endeavour'd to raise by Letters, that he
+sent hither to his Friends (in�_England_;) amongst which Counsellor
+_Fairlaw_ was one of his most particular and assur'd. But however
+Providence or Accident, if you please, order'd it, not a Line came to
+the Hands of any of his Friends; so that had not Heaven had yet a future
+Blessing in Store for him, he had certainly have better perish'd in the
+Sea, than to have fall'n into the Power of a People less merciful than
+Seas, Winds, or hungry wild Beasts in Pursuit of their Prey. But this
+could not be learn'd (it�seems) from any Man but himself, upon his
+Return, after his Redemption.
+
+Two Years more pass'd on; towards the latter of which the old Lady
+_Fairlaw_ took her Bed, desperately sick, insomuch that she was given
+over by all her Physicians; she continu'd in great Misery for near two
+Months; in all which Time _Philadelphia_ was constantly with her all the
+Day, or all the Night; much about that Time she dy'd; and, dying, told
+her Husband, that she had observ'd he had a particular Esteem or
+Kindness for _Philadelphia_; which was now a great Satisfaction to her;
+since she was assur'd, that if he marry'd her, she would prove an
+excellent Nurse to him, and prolong his Life by some Years. As for
+_Eugenia_, (added she) you need not be concern'd; I'm sure she will
+consent to any Thing that you shall propose, having already so
+plentifully provided for her. The good old Gentleman answer'd, that he
+would fulfil her Will as far as lay in his Power: And not long after,
+she departed this Life. Her Burial was very handsome and honourable.
+Half a Year was now expir'd since her Interment, when the old Counsellor
+began to plead his own Cause to young _Philadelphia_, reminding her that
+now the Death of _Gracelove_ was out of Question; and that therefore she
+was as much at her Liberty to make her own Choice of an Husband as he
+was of a Wife; not forgetting, at the same Time, to let her know, that
+his Widow, (whoever had the good Fortune to be�so) would be worth above
+thirty thousand Pounds in ready Money, besides a thousand a Year. But,
+above all, he urg'd his dying Lady's last Advice to him, that he would
+marry her; and hop'd she would see the Will of the Dead satisfy'd. The
+young Lady being broken in Sorrows, and having mortify'd all her
+Appetites to the Enjoyments of this World, and not knowing where to meet
+with so fair an Overture, tho' at first, in Modesty, she seem'd to
+refuse it as too great an Honour, yet yielded to less than a Quarter of
+an Hour's Courtship. And the next Sunday marry'd they were, with the
+Consent, and to the perfect Satisfaction of, his Daughter, Madam
+_Eugenia_; who lov'd _Philadelphia_ sincerely. They kept their
+Wedding very nobly for a Month, at their own House in _Great
+Lincolns-Inn-Fields_; but the Memory of the old Lady was still so fresh
+with the young Lady _Fairlaw_, that she prevail'd with him to remove to
+another, more convenient as she fancy'd, in _Covent-Garden_. They had
+dwelt there not much more than four Months, e're the good old Gentleman
+fell sick and dy'd. Whether it were the Change of an old House for a
+new, or an old Wife for a young, is yet uncertain, tho' his Physicians
+said, and are still of Opinion, that, doubtless, it was the last. 'Tis
+past all Doubt, that she did really mourn for and lament his Death; for
+she lov'd him perfectly, and pay'd him all the dutiful respect of a
+virtuous Wife, while she liv'd within that State with him; which he
+rewarded as I have said before. His Funeral was very sumptuous and
+honourable indeed! and as soon as it was over, _Eugenia_ desir'd her
+young beautiful Mother-in-Law to retreat a little with her into the
+Country, to a pleasant House she had, not twenty Miles distant from
+Town; urging, That she could by no Means enjoy her self under that Roof,
+where her dear Father dy'd. The obliging Step-mother, who might more
+properly have been call'd her Sister, being exactly of the same Age with
+her, readily comply'd, and she pass'd away all that Summer with
+_Eugenia_, at their Country-Seat, and most Part of the Winter too; for
+_Eugenia_ could by no Means be prevail'd on to lie one Night in her
+Mother's House; 'twas with some Reluctancy that she consented to dine
+there sometimes. At length the whole Year of _Philadelphia's_ Widowhood
+was expir'd; during which, you can't but imagine that she was solicited
+and address'd to by as many Lovers, or pretended Lovers, as our dear
+King _Charles_, whom God grant long to reign, was lately by the
+Presbyterians, Independants, Anabaptists, and all those canting whiggish
+Brethren! But she had never lik'd any Man so well as to make him her
+Husband, by Inclination, unless it was _Gracelove_, devour'd by the
+greedy Inhabitants of the Sea.
+
+Whilst her Fortune began to mend thus, her Brother's grew worse; but
+that was indeed the Effect of his Extravagancy: In less than two Years
+Time, he had spent eight thousand Pounds in _France_, whence he return'd
+to _England_, and pursuing his old profuse Manner of Living, contracted
+above 100_l._ Debts here, in less than four Months Time; which not being
+able to satisfy, he was arrested, and thrown into a Goal, whence he
+remov'd himself into the _King's Bench_, on that very Day that old
+_Fairlaw_ dy'd. There, at first, for about a Month, he was entertain'd
+like a Gentleman; but finding no Money coming, nor having a Prospect of
+any, the Marshal and his Instruments turn'd him to the Common Side,
+where he learnt the Art of Peg-making, a�Mystery to which he had been a
+Stranger all his Life long 'till then. 'Twas then he wish'd he might see
+his Sister, hoping that she was in a Condition to relieve him; which he
+was apt to believe, from the Discourse he had with _Gracelove_ some
+Years past. Often he wish'd to see her, but in vain; however, the next
+_Easter_ after the old Counsellor's Death, _Philadelphia_, according to
+his Custom, sent her Steward to relieve all the poor Prisoners about
+Town; among the rest he visited those in the common Side of the _King's
+Bench_, where he heard 'em call Sir _William Wilding_ to partake of his
+Lady's Charity. The poor Prodigal was then feeding on the Relief of the
+Basket, not being yet able to get his Bread at his new Trade: To him the
+Steward gave a Crown, whereas the other had but Half a Crown apiece.
+Then he enquir'd of some of the unhappy Gentlemen, Sir _William's_
+Fellow-Collegians, of what Country Sir _William_ was? How long he had
+been there? And how much his Debts were? All of which he receiv'd a
+satisfactory Account. Upon his Return to his Lady, he repeated the
+dismal News of her Brother's Misfortunes to her; who immediately
+dispatch'd him back again to the Prison, with Orders to give him twenty
+Shillings more at present, and to get him remov'd to the Master's Side,
+into a convenient Chamber, for the Rent of which the Steward engag'd to
+pay; and promis'd him, as she had commanded, twenty Shillings a Week, as
+long as he stay'd there, on Condition that he would give the Names of
+all his Creditors, and of all those to whom he had engag'd any Part of
+his Estate; which the poor Gentleman did most readily and faithfully:
+After which, the Steward enquir'd for a Taylor, who came and took
+Measure of _Philadelphia's_ unkind Brother, and was order'd to provide
+him Linnen, a�Hat, Shoes, Stockings, and all such Necessaries, not so
+much as omitting a Sword: With all which he acquainted his Lady at his
+Return; who was very much griev'd at her Brother's unhappy
+Circumstances, and at the same Time extremely well pleas'd to find her
+self in a Condition to relieve him. The Steward went constantly once a
+Week to pay him his Money; and Sir _William_ was continually very
+curious to know to whom he was oblig'd for so many and great Favours;
+But he was answer'd, That they came from a Lady who desir'd to have her
+Name conceal'd. In less than a Year, _Philadelphia_ had paid 25000_l._
+and taken off the Mortgages on 2500_l._ _per Annum_ of her Brother's
+Estate; and coming to Town from _Eugenia's_ Country-House one Day, to
+make the last Payment of two thousand Pounds, looking out of her Coach
+on the Road, near _Dartford_, she saw a Traveller on Foot, who seem'd to
+be tir'd with his Journey, whose Face, she thought, she had formerly
+known: This Thought invited her to look on him so long, that she, at
+last, perswaded her self it was _Gracelove_, or his Ghost: For, to say
+Truth, he was very pale and thin, his Complexion swarthy, and his
+Cloaths (perhaps) as rotten as if he had been bury'd in 'em. However,
+unpleasant as it was, she could not forbear gazing after this miserable
+Spectacle; and the more she beheld it, the more she was confirmed it was
+_Gracelove_, or something that had usurp'd his Figure. In short, she
+could not rest 'till she call'd to one of her Servants, who rode by the
+Coach, whom she strictly charg'd to go to that poor Traveller, and mount
+him on his Horse, 'till they came to _Dartford_; where she order'd him
+to take him to the same Inn where she baited, and refresh him with any
+Thing that he would eat or drink; and after that, to hire a Horse for
+him, to come to Town with them: That then he should be brought Home to
+her own House, and be carefully look'd after, 'till farther Orders from
+her. All which was most duly and punctually perform'd.
+
+The next Morning early she sent for the Steward, whom she order'd to
+take the Stranger to a Sale-shop, and fit him with a Suit of good
+Cloaths, to buy him Shirts, and other Linnen, and all Necessaries, as he
+had provided for her Brother; and gave him Charge to use him as her
+particular Friend, during his Stay there, bidding him, withal, learn his
+Name and Circumstances, if possible, and to supply him with Money for
+his Pocket Expences: All which he most faithfully and discreetly
+perform'd, and brought his Lady an Account of his Sufferings by Sea, and
+Slavery among the _Turks_, as I have before related; adding, that his
+Name was _Gracelove_. This was the greatest Happiness, certainly, that
+ever yet the dear beautiful Creature was sensible of. On t'other Side,
+_Gracelove_ could not but admire and praise his good Fortune, that had
+so miraculously and bountifully reliev'd him; and one Day having some
+private Discourse with the Steward, he could not forbear expressing the
+Sense he had of it; declaring, That he could not have expected such kind
+Treatment from any Body breathing, but from his Cousin, Counsellor
+_Fairlaw_, his Lady, or another young Lady, whom he plac'd and left with
+his Cousins. Counsellor _Fairlaw_! (cry'd the Steward) why, Sir, my Lady
+is the old Counsellor's Widow; she is very beautiful and young too. What
+was her Name, Sir, before she marry'd the Counsellor? (ask'd
+_Gracelove_) That I know not, (reply'd t'other) for the old Steward dy'd
+presently after the old Lady, which is not a Year and a Half since; in
+whose Place I succeed; and I have never been so curious or inquisitive,
+as to pry into former Passages of the Family. Do you know, Sir, (said
+_Gracelove_) whereabouts in Town they liv'd before? Yes, Sir,
+(return'd the Steward, who was taught how to answer) in _Great
+Lincolns-Inn-Fields_, I think, Alas! (cry'd _Gracelove_) 'twas the same
+Gentleman to whom I design'd to apply my self when I came to _England_.
+You need not despair now, Sir, (said t'other) I�dare say my Lady will
+supply your Wants. O�wonderful Goodness of a Stranger! (cry'd
+_Gracelove_) uncommon and rare amongst Relations and Friends! How have
+I, or how can I ever merit this? Upon the End of their Conference, the
+Steward went to _Philadelphia_, and repeated it almost _verbatim_ to
+her; who order'd _Gracelove_ should be taken Measure of by the best
+Taylor in _Covent-Garden_; that he should have three of the most modish
+rich Suits made, that might become a private Gentleman of a Thousand
+Pounds a Year, and Hats, Perukes, Linnen, Swords, and all Things
+suitable to 'em, all to be got ready in less than a Month; in which
+Time, she took all the Opportunity she could either find or make to see
+him, and not to be seen by him: She oblig'd her Steward to invite him to
+a Play, whither she follow'd 'em, and sate next to _Gracelove_, and
+talk'd with him; but all the while masq'd. In this Month's Time she was
+daily pester'd with the Visits of her Addressors; several there were of
+'em; but the chief were only a Lord of a very small Estate, tho' of a
+pretty great Age; a�young blustering Knight, who had a Place of 500_l._
+a Year at Court; and a County Gentleman, of a very plentiful Estate,
+a�Widower, and of a middle Age. These three only of her Lovers she
+invited to Dinner, on the first Day of the next Month: In the mean while
+she sent a rich Suit, and Equipage proportionable, to her Brother, with
+an Invitation to dine with her on the same Day. Then she writ to
+_Eugenia_ to come and stay in Town, if not in the same House with her,
+for two or three Days before; which her affectionate Daughter obey'd; to
+whom _Philadelphia_ related all her Brother's past Extravagancies and
+what she had done for him in redeeming most Part of his Estate; begging
+of her, that if she could fancy his Person, she would take him into her
+Mercy and marry him. Being assur'd, that such a virtuous Wife as she
+would prove, must necessarily reclaim him, if yet he were not perfectly
+convinc'd of his Follies; which, she doubted not, his late long
+Sufferings had done. _Eugenia_ return'd, That she would wholly be
+directed and advis'd by her in all Things; and that certainly she could
+not but like the Brother, since she lov'd the Sister so perfectly and
+truly.
+
+The Day came, and just at Twelve, _Gracelove_, meeting the Steward on
+the Stairs coming from his Lady, _Gracelove_ then told him, that he
+believ'd he might take the Opportunity of that Afternoon to go over to
+_Putney_, and take a Game or two at Bowls. The Steward return'd, Very
+well, Sir, I�shall let my Lady know it, if she enquires for you.
+_Philadelphia_, who overheard what they said, call'd the Steward in
+Haste, and bid him call _Gracelove_ back, and tell him, she expected his
+Company at her Table to Day, and that she desir'd he would appear like
+himself. The Steward soon overtook him at the Door, just going out as
+_Eugenia_ came in, who look'd back on _Gracelove_: The poor Gentleman
+was strangely surpriz'd at the Sight of her, as she was at his; but the
+Steward's Message did more amaze and confound him. He went directly to
+his Chamber, to dress himself in one of those rich Suits lately made for
+him; but, the Distraction he was in, made him mistake his Coat for his
+Wastcoat, and put the Coat on first; but, recalling his straggling
+Thoughts, he made Shift to get ready time enough to make his Appearance
+without a second Summons. _Philadelphia_ was as pleasant at Dinner, as
+ever she had been all her Life; she look'd very obligingly on all the
+Sparks, and drank to every one of 'em particularly, beginning to the
+Lord--and ending to the Stranger, who durst hardly lift up his Eyes a
+second Time to her's, to confirm him that he knew her. Her Brother was
+so confounded, that he bow'd and continu'd his Head down 'till she had
+done drinking, not daring to encounter her Eyes, that would then have
+reproach'd him with his Villany to her.
+
+After Dinner the Cloth was taken away; She began thus to her Lovers: My
+Lord! Sir _Thomas_! and Mr. _Fat-acres_! I doubt not, that it will be of
+some Satisfaction to you, to know whom I have made Choice for my next
+Husband; which now I am resolv'd no longer to defer.
+
+The Person to whom I shall next drink, must be the Man who shall ever
+command me and my Fortune, were it ten times greater than it is; which I
+wish only for his Sake, since he deserves much more.--Here, (said she to
+one that waited) put Wine into two Glasses: Then she took the Diamond
+Ring from her Finger, and put it into one of 'em. My dear _Gracelove_,
+(cry'd she) I�drank to thee; and send thee back thy own Ring, with
+_Philadelphia's_ Heart. He startl'd, blush'd, and looked wildly; whilst
+all the Company stared on him. Nay, pledge me, (persu'd she) and return
+me the Ring: for it shall make us both one the next Morning. He bow'd,
+kiss'd, and return'd it, after he had taken off his Wine. The defeated
+Lovers knew not how to resent it? The Lord and Knight were for going,
+but the Country Gentleman oppos'd it, and told 'em, 'twas the greatest
+Argument of Folly, to be disturb'd at the Caprice of a Woman's Humour.
+They sate down again therefore, and she invited 'em to her Wedding on
+the Morrow.
+
+And now, Brother, (said she) I have not quite forgotten you, tho' you
+have not been pleas'd to take Notice of me: I�have a Dish in Reserve for
+you, which will be more grateful to your Fancy than all you have tasted
+to Day. Here! (cry'd she to the Steward) Mr. _Rightman_, do you serve up
+that Dish your self. _Rightman_ then set a cover'd Dish on the Table.
+What! more Tricks yet? (cry'd my Lord and Sir _Thomas_) Come, Sir
+_William_! (said his Sister) uncover it! he did so; and cry'd out,
+O�matchless Goodness of a virtuous Sister! here are the Mortgages of the
+best Part of my Estate! O! what a Villain! what a Monster have I been!
+no more, dear Brother; (said she, with Tears in her Eyes) I�have yet a
+greater Happiness in Store for you: This Lady, this beautiful virtuous
+Lady, with twenty thousand Pounds, will make you happy in her Love.
+Saying this, she join'd their Hands; Sir _William_ eagerly kiss'd
+_Eugenia's_, who blush'd, and said, Thus, Madam, I�hope to shew how much
+I love and honour you. My Cousin _Eugenia_! (cry'd _Gracelove_!) The
+same, my dear lost dead Cousin _Gracelove_! (reply'd she) O! (said he in
+a Transport) my present Joys are greater than all my past Miseries! my
+Mistress and my Friend are found, and still are mine. Nay, (faith, said
+my Lord) this is pleasant enough to me, tho' I�have been defeated of the
+Enjoyment of the Lady. The whole Company in general went away very well
+that Night, who return'd the next Morning, and saw the two happy Pair
+firmly united.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unfortunate Happy Lady.
+
+
+p. 43 _Ros Solis._ A potent and well-liked tipple.
+
+  We abandon all ale
+  And beer that is stale
+  Rosa-solis and damnable hum,
+  But we will rack
+  In the praise of sack
+  'Gainst Omne quod exit in um.
+
+    --_Witts Recreation_ (1654).
+
+_The Accomplished Female Instructor_ gives the following recipe: 'Rossa
+Solis; Take of clean spirits, not too strong, two quarts and a quart of
+spring-water; let them seethe gently over a soft fire till about a pint
+is evaporated; then put in four spoonfuls of orange-flower-water, and as
+much of very good cinnamon-water; crush 3 eggs in pieces, and throw them
+in shell and all; stir it well, and when it boiles up a little take it
+off.' This drink was so great a favourite with Louis XIV that a
+particular sort was named Rossolis du Roi.
+
+p. 51 _The Cheats, Mother, the Cheats._ John Wilson's excellent comedy,
+_The Cheats_, which was written and produced in 1662, attained great
+popularity. It ran into four editions ('imprimatur, 5�November, 1663');
+4to, 1664; 1671; 1684; 1693. Caustically satirizing the Puritans, it
+became a stock piece, and was acted as late as May, 1721, when Griffin,
+Harper, Diggs, and Mrs. Gifford sustained the parts which had been
+created by Lacy, Mohun, Hart, and Mrs. Corey.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE FAIR JILT.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Although _The Fair Jilt_ was published in 1688, it is interesting to
+note that ten years earlier, Michaelmas Term, 1678, there is advertised
+for R.�Tonson _The Amorous Convert; being a true Relation of what
+happened in Holland_, which may very well be the first sketch of Mrs.
+Behn's maturer novel. The fact that she does not 'pretend here to
+entertain you with a feign'd story,' but on the contrary, 'every
+circumstance to a tittle is truth', and that she expressly asserts, 'To
+a great part of the main I myself was an eye-witness', aroused
+considerable suspicion in Bernbaum as to the veracity of her narration,
+a�suspicion which, when he gravely discovers history to know no such
+person as her 'Prince Tarpuin of the race of the last Kings of Rome', is
+resolved into a certainty that she is romancing fully and freely
+throughout. It is surely obvious that such a point does not so much
+demonstrate Mrs. Behn's untruthfulness as her consummate art. With all
+the nice skill of a born novelist she has so mingled fact and fancy,
+what did occur and what might have been, that any attempt to disentangle
+the twain would be idle indeed. The passages where she is most insistent
+upon the due sequence of events, most detailed in observation are not
+impossibly purely fictional, the incidents related without stress or
+emphatic assertions are probably enough the plain unvarnished happenings
+as she witnessed them. That the history is mainly true admits of little
+question; that Mrs. Behn has heightened and coloured the interest is
+equally certain.
+
+_The Fair Jilt_ must be allowed to stand in the very first rank amongst
+her novels. It has been aptly compared to a novella by Bandello, and is
+indeed more than worthy of the pen of the good Dominican Bishop of Agen.
+In all its incidents and motives the story is eternally true. The
+fateful beauty, playing now the part of Potiphar's wife, and now the yet
+commoner r�le of an enchantress whose charms drive men to madness and
+crime, men who adore her even from their prison cell and are glad to go
+to a shameful death for her sake, appears in all history, in all
+literature, nay, in the very newspaper scandals and police courts of
+to-day. As a picture of untrammelled passion, culpable and corrupt, but
+yet terribly fascinating in her very recklessness and abandon, Miranda
+is indeed a powerful study. Always guilty, she is always excused, or if
+punished but sparingly and little, whilst the friar languishes in a foul
+dungeon, the page-boy is hanged, her husband stands upon the public
+scaffold. And then in the end, 'very penitent for her life past', she is
+received with open arms by Tarquin's old father, who looks upon her as a
+very angel, and retiring to the tranquility of a country-house she
+passes her days in 'as perfect a state of happiness as this troublesome
+world can afford'.
+
+
+
+
+  To
+  HENRY PAIN, ESQ;
+
+  Sir,
+
+Dedications are like Love, and no Man of Wit or Eminence escapes them;
+early or late, the Affliction of the Poet's Complement falls upon him;
+and Men are oblig'd to receive 'em as they do their Wives; _For better,
+for worse_; at lest with a feign'd Civility.
+
+It was not Want of Respect, but Fear, that has hitherto made us keep
+clear of your Judgment, too piercing to be favourable to what is not
+nicely valuable. We durst not awaken your Criticism; and by begging your
+Protection in the Front of a Book, give you an Occasion to find nothing
+to deserve it. Nor can this little History lay a better Claim to that
+Honour, than those that have not pretended to it; which has but this
+Merit to recommend it, That it is Truth: Truth, which you so much
+admire. But 'tis a Truth that entertains you with so many Accidents
+diverting and moving, that they will need both a Patron, and an Assertor
+in this incredulous World. For however it may be imagin'd that Poetry
+(my�Talent) has so greatly the Ascendant over me, that all I write must
+pass for Fiction, I�now desire to have it understood that this is
+Reality, and Matter of Fact, and acted in this our latter Age: And that
+in the person of _Tarquin_, I bring a Prince to kiss your Hands, who
+own'd himself, and was receiv'd, as the last of the Race of the _Roman_
+Kings; whom I have often seen, and you have heard of; and whose Story is
+so well known to your self, and many Hundreds more: Part of which I had
+from the Mouth of this unhappy great Man, and was an Eye-Witness to the
+rest.
+
+'Tis true, Sir, I present you with a Prince unfortunate, but still the
+more noble Object for your Goodness and Pity; who never valu'd a brave
+Man the less for being unhappy. And whither shou'd the Afflicted flee
+for Refuge but to the Generous? Amongst all the Race, he cannot find a
+better Man, or more certain Friend: Nor amongst all his Ancestors, match
+your greater Soul, and Magnificence of Mind. He will behold in one
+_English_ Subject, a�Spirit as illustrious, a�Heart as fearless, a�Wit
+and Eloquence as excellent, as _Rome_ it self cou'd produce. Its Senate
+scarce boasted of a better States-man, nor Augustus of a more faithful
+Subject; as your Imprisonment and Sufferings, through all the Course of
+our late National Distractions, have sufficiently manifested; But
+nothing cou'd press or deject your great Heart; you were the same Man
+still, unmov'd in all Turns, easie and innocent; no Persecution being
+able to abate your constant good Humour, or wonted Gallantry.
+
+If, Sir, you find here a Prince of less Fortitude and Vertue than your
+self, charge his Miscarriages on Love: a�Weakness of that Nature you
+will easily excuse, (being so great a Friend to the Fair;) though
+possibly, he gave a Proof of it too Fatal to his Honour. Had I been to
+have form'd his Character, perhaps I had made him something more worthy
+of the Honour of your Protection: But I was oblig'd to pursue the Matter
+of Fact, and give a just Relation of that part of his Life which,
+possibly, was the only reproachful part of it. If he be so happy, as to
+entertain a Man of Wit and Business, I�shall not fear his Welcome to the
+rest of the World: And 'tis only with your Passport he can hope to
+be�so.
+
+The particular Obligations I have to your Bounty and Goodness, O�Noble
+Friend, and Patron of the _Muses_! I do not so much as pretend to
+acknowledge in this little Present; those being above the Poet's Pay,
+which is a sort of Coin, not currant in this Age: though perhaps may be
+esteem'd as Medals in the Cabinets of Men of Wit. If this be so happy to
+be of that Number, I�desire no more lasting a Fame, that it may bear
+this Inscription, that I�am,
+
+  SIR,
+    Your most Obliged, and
+      Most Humble Servant,
+        _A. BEHN_.
+
+
+
+
+THE _FAIR JILT_: or, The Amours of Prince _Tarquin_ and _Miranda_.
+
+
+As Love is the most noble and divine Passion of the Soul, so it is that
+to which we may justly attribute all the real Satisfactions of Life; and
+without it Man is unfinish'd and unhappy.
+
+There are a thousand things to be said of the Advantages this generous
+Passion brings to those, whose Hearts are capable of receiving its soft
+Impressions; for 'tis not every one that can be sensible of its tender
+Touches. How many Examples, from History and Observation, could I give
+of its wondrous Power; nay, even to a Degree of Transmigration! How many
+Idiots has it made wise! How many Fools eloquent! How many home-bred
+Squires accomplish'd! How many Cowards brave! And there is no sort of
+Species of Mankind on whom it cannot work some Change and Miracle, if it
+be a noble well-grounded Passion, except on the Fop in Fashion, the
+harden'd incorrigible Fop; so often wounded, but never reclaim'd: For
+still, by a dire Mistake, conducted by vast Opiniatrety, and a greater
+Portion of Self-love, than the rest of the Race of Man, he believes that
+Affectation in his Mein and Dress, that Mathematical Movement, that
+Formality in every Action, that a Face manag'd with Care, and soften'd
+into Ridicule, the languishing Turn, the Toss, and the Back-shake of the
+Periwig, is the direct Way to the Heart of the fine Person he adores;
+and instead of curing Love in his Soul, serves only to advance his
+Folly; and the more he is enamour'd, the more industriously he assumes
+(every Hour) the Coxcomb. These are Love's Play-things, a�sort of
+Animals with whom he sports; and whom he never wounds, but when he is in
+good Humour, and always shoots laughing. 'Tis the Diversion of the
+little God, to see what a Fluttering and Bustle one of these Sparks,
+new-wounded, makes; to what fantastick Fooleries he has Recourse: The
+Glass is every Moment call'd to counsel, the Valet consulted and plagu'd
+for new Invention of Dress, the Footman and Scrutore perpetually
+employ'd; _Billet-doux_ and _Madrigals_ take up all his Mornings, till
+Play-time in dressing, till Night in gazing; still, like a Sun-flower,
+turn'd towards the Beams of the fair Eyes of his _C�lia_, adjusting
+himself in the most amorous Posture he can assume, his Hat under his
+Arm, while the other Hand is put carelesly into his Bosom, as if laid
+upon his panting Heart; his Head a little bent to one Side, supported
+with a World of Cravat-string, which he takes mighty Care not to put
+into Disorder; as one may guess by a never-failing and horrid Stiffness
+in his Neck; and if he had any Occasion to look aside, his whole Body
+turns at the same Time, for Fear the Motion of the Head alone should
+incommode the Cravat or Periwig: And sometimes the Glove is well
+manag'd, and the white Hand display'd. Thus, with a thousand other
+little Motions and Formalities, all in the common Place or Road of
+Foppery, he takes infinite Pains to shew himself to the Pit and Boxes,
+a�most accomplish'd Ass. This is he, of all human Kind, on whom Love can
+do no Miracles, and who can no where, and upon no Occasion, quit one
+Grain of his refin'd Foppery, unless in a Duel, or a Battle, if ever his
+Stars should be so severe and ill-manner'd, to reduce him to the
+Necessity of either: Fear then would ruffle that fine Form he had so
+long preserv'd in nicest Order, with Grief considering, that an unlucky
+Chance-wound in his Face, if such a dire Misfortune should befal him,
+would spoil the Sale of it for ever.
+
+Perhaps it will be urg'd, that since no Metamorphosis can be made in a
+Fop by Love, you must consider him one of those that only talks of Love,
+and thinks himself that happy Thing, a�Lover; and wanting fine Sense
+enough for the real Passion, believes what he feels to be it. There are
+in the Quiver of the God a great many different Darts; some that wound
+for a Day, and others for a Year; they are all fine, painted, glittering
+Darts, and shew as well as those made of the noblest Metal; but the
+Wounds they make reach the Desire only, and are cur'd by possessing,
+while the short-liv'd Passion betrays the Cheat. But 'tis that refin'd
+and illustrious Passion of the Soul, whose Aim is Virtue, and whose end
+is Honour, that has the Power of changing Nature, and is capable of
+performing all those heroick Things, of which History is full.
+
+How far distant Passions may be from one another, I shall be able to
+make appear in these following Rules. I'll prove to you the strong
+Effects of Love in some unguarded and ungovern'd Hearts; where it rages
+beyond the Inspirations of _a God all soft and gentle_, and reigns more
+like _a Fury from Hell_.
+
+I do not pretend here to entertain you with a feign'd Story, or any
+Thing piec'd together with romantick Accidents; but every Circumstance,
+to a Tittle, is Truth. To a great Part of the Main I myself was an
+Eye-witness; and what I did not see, I�was confirm'd of by Actors in the
+Intrigue, Holy Men, of the Order of St. _Francis_: But for the Sake of
+some of her Relations, I�shall give my _Fair Jilt_ a feign'd Name, that
+of _Miranda_; but my Hero must retain his own, it being too illustrious
+to be conceal'd.
+
+You are to understand, that in all the Catholick Countries, where Holy
+Orders are establish'd, there are abundance of differing Kinds of
+Religious, both of Men and Women. Amongst the Women, there are those we
+call _Nuns_, that make solemn Vows of perpetual Chastity; There are
+others who make but a simple Vow, as for five or ten Years, or more or
+less; and that time expir'd, they may contract anew for longer time, or
+marry, or dispose of themselves as they shall see good; and these are
+ordinarily call'd _Galloping Nuns_: Of these there are several Orders;
+as _Canonesses_, _Begines_, _Quests_, _Swart-Sisters_, and
+_Jesuitesses_, with several others I have forgot. Of those of the
+_Begines_ was our _Fair Votress_.
+
+These Orders are taken up by the best Persons of the Town, young Maids
+of Fortune, who live together, not inclos'd, but in Palaces that will
+hold about fifteen hundred or two thousand of these _Filles Devotes_;
+where they have a regulated Government, under a sort of _Abbess_, or
+_Prioress_, or rather a _Governante_. They are oblig'd to a Method of
+Devotion, and are under a sort of Obedience. They wear a Habit much like
+our Widows of Quality in _England_, only without a _Bando_; and their
+Veil is of a thicker Crape than what we have here, thro' which one
+cannot see the Face; for when they go abroad, they cover themselves all
+over with it; but they put 'em up in the Churches, and lay 'em by in the
+Houses. Every one of these have a Confessor, who is to 'em a sort of
+Steward: For, you must know, they that go into these Places, have the
+Management of their own Fortunes, and what their Parents design 'em.
+Without the Advice of this Confessor, they act nothing, nor admit of a
+Lover that he shall not approve; at least, this Method ought to be
+taken, and is by almost all of 'em; tho' _Miranda_ thought her Wit above
+it, as her Spirit was.
+
+But as these Women are, as I said, of the best Quality, and live with
+the Reputation of being retir'd from the World a little more than
+ordinary, and because there is a sort of Difficulty to approach 'em,
+they are the People the most courted, and liable to the greatest
+Temptations; for as difficult as it seems to be, they receive Visits
+from all the Men of the best Quality, especially Strangers. All the Men
+of Wit and Conversation meet at the Apartments of these fair _Filles
+Devotes_, where all Manner of Gallantries are perform'd, while all the
+Study of these Maids is to accomplish themselves for these noble
+Conversations. They receive Presents, Balls, Serenades, and Billets; All
+the News, Wit, Verses, Songs, Novels, Musick, Gaming, and all fine
+Diversion, is in their Apartments, they themselves being of the best
+Quality and Fortune. So that to manage these Gallantries, there is no
+sort of Female Arts they are not practis'd in, no Intrigue they are
+ignorant of, and no Management of which they are not capable.
+
+Of this happy Number was the fair _Miranda_, whose Parents being dead,
+and a vast Estate divided between her self and a young Sister, (who
+liv'd with an unmarry'd old Uncle, whose Estate afterwards was all
+divided between 'em) she put her self into this uninclos'd religious
+House; but her Beauty, which had all the Charms that ever Nature gave,
+became the Envy of the whole _Sisterhood_. She was tall, and admirably
+shaped; she had a bright Hair, and Hazle-Eyes, all full of Love and
+Sweetness: No Art could make a Face so fair as hers by Nature, which
+every Feature adorn'd with a Grace that Imagination cannot reach: Every
+Look, every Motion charm'd, and her black Dress shew'd the Lustre of her
+Face and Neck. She had an Air, though gay as so much Youth could
+inspire, yet so modest, so nobly reserv'd, without Formality, or
+Stiffness, that one who look'd on her would have imagin'd her Soul the
+Twin-Angel of her Body; and both together made her appear something
+divine. To this she had a great deal of Wit, read much, and retain'd all
+that serv'd her Purpose. She sung delicately, and danc'd well, and
+play'd on the Lute to a Miracle. She spoke several Languages naturally;
+for being Co-heiress to so great a Fortune, she was bred with the nicest
+Care, in all the finest Manners of Education; and was now arriv'd to her
+Eighteenth Year.
+
+'Twere needless to tell you how great a Noise the Fame of this young
+Beauty, with so considerable a Fortune, made in the World: I�may say,
+the World, rather than confine her Fame to the scanty Limits of a Town;
+it reach'd to many others: And there was not a Man of any Quality that
+came to _Antwerp_, or pass'd thro' the City, but made it his Business to
+see the lovely _Miranda_, who was universally ador'd: Her Youth and
+Beauty, her Shape, and Majesty of Mein, and Air of Greatness, charm'd
+all her Beholders; and thousands of People were dying by her Eyes, while
+she was vain enough to glory in her Conquests, and make it her Business
+to wound. She lov'd nothing so much as to behold sighing Slaves at her
+Feet, of the greatest Quality; and treated them all with an Affability
+that gave them Hope. Continual Musick, as soon as it was dark, and Songs
+of dying Lovers, were sung under her Windows; and she might well have
+made herself a great Fortune (if�she had not been so already) by the
+rich Presents that were hourly made her; and every body daily expected
+when she would make some one happy, by suffering her self to be
+conquer'd by Love and Honour, by the Assiduities and Vows of some one of
+her Adorers. But _Miranda_ accepted their Presents, heard their Vows
+with Pleasure, and willingly admitted all their soft Addresses; but
+would not yield her Heart, or give away that lovely Person to the
+Possession of one, who could please it self with so many. She was
+naturally amorous, but extremely inconstant: She lov'd one for his Wit,
+another for his Face, and a third for his Mein; but above all, she
+admir'd Quality: Quality alone had the Power to attach her entirely; yet
+not to one Man, but that Virtue was still admir'd by her in all:
+Where-ever she found that, she lov'd, or at least acted the Lover with
+such Art, that (deceiving well) she fail'd not to compleat her Conquest;
+and yet she never durst trust her fickle Humour with Marriage. She knew
+the Strength of her own Heart, and that it could not suffer itself to be
+confin'd to one Man, and wisely avoided those Inquietudes, and that
+Uneasiness of Life she was sure to find in that married State, which
+would, against her Nature, oblige her to the Embraces of one, whose
+Humour was, to love all the Young and the Gay. But Love, who had
+hitherto only play'd with her Heart, and given it nought but pleasing
+wanton Wounds, such as afforded only soft Joys, and not Pains, resolv'd,
+either out of Revenge to those Numbers she had abandon'd, and who had
+sigh'd so long in vain, or to try what Power he had upon so fickle a
+Heart, to send an Arrow dipp'd in the most tormenting Flames that rage
+in Hearts most sensible. He struck it home and deep, with all the Malice
+of an angry God.
+
+There was a Church belonging to the _Cordeliers_, whither _Miranda_
+often repair'd to her Devotion; and being there one Day, accompany'd
+with a young Sister of the Order, after the Mass was ended, as 'tis the
+Custom, some one of the Fathers goes about the Church with a Box for
+Contribution, or Charity-Money: It happen'd that Day, that a young
+Father, newly initiated, carried the Box about, which, in his Turn, he
+brought to _Miranda_. She had no sooner cast her Eyes on this young
+Friar, but her Face was overspread with Blushes of Surprize: She beheld
+him stedfastly, and saw in his Face all the Charms of Youth, Wit, and
+Beauty; he wanted no one Grace that could form him for Love, he appear'd
+all that is adorable to the Fair Sex, nor could the mis-shapen Habit
+hide from her the lovely Shape it endeavour'd to cover, nor those
+delicate Hands that approach'd her too near with the Box. Besides the
+Beauty of his Face and Shape, he had an Air altogether great, in spite
+of his profess'd Poverty, it betray'd the Man of Quality; and that
+Thought weigh'd greatly with _Miranda_. But Love, who did not design she
+should now feel any sort of those easy Flames, with which she had
+heretofore burnt, made her soon lay all those Considerations aside,
+which us'd to invite her to love, and now lov'd she knew not why.
+
+She gaz'd upon him, while he bow'd before her, and waited for her
+Charity, till she perceiv'd the lovely Friar to blush, and cast his Eyes
+to the Ground. This awaken'd her Shame, and she put her Hand into her
+Pocket, and was a good while in searching for her Purse, as if she
+thought of nothing less than what she was about; at last she drew it
+out, and gave him a Pistole; but with so much Deliberation and Leisure,
+as easily betray'd the Satisfaction she took in looking on him; while
+the good Man, having receiv'd her Bounty, after a very low Obeysance,
+proceeded to the rest; and _Miranda_ casting after him a Look all
+languishing, as long as he remain'd in the Church, departed with a Sigh
+as soon as she saw him go out, and returned to her Apartment without
+speaking one Word all the Way to the young _Fille Devote_, who attended
+her; so absolutely was her Soul employ'd with this young Holy Man.
+_Cornelia_ (so�was this Maid call'd who was with her) perceiving she was
+so silent, who us'd to be all Wit and good Humour, and observing her
+little Disorder at the Sight of the young Father, tho' she was far from
+imagining it to be Love, took an Occasion, when she was come home, to
+speak of him. 'Madam, _said she_, did you not observe that fine young
+_Cordelier_, who brought the Box?' At a Question that nam'd that Object
+of her Thoughts, _Miranda_ blush'd; and she finding she did so,
+redoubled her Confusion, and she had scarce Courage enough to
+say,--_Yes, I�did observe him_: And then, forcing herself to smile a
+little, continu'd, 'And I wonder'd to see so jolly a young Friar of an
+Order so severe and mortify'd.--Madam, (_reply'd +Cornelia+_) when you
+know his _Story_, you will not wonder.' _Miranda_, who was impatient to
+know all that concern'd her new Conqueror, obliged her to tell his
+Story; and _Cornelia_ obey'd, and proceeded.
+
+
+  _The Story of Prince +Henrick+._
+
+'You must know, Madam, that this young Holy Man is a Prince of
+_Germany_, of the House of ----, whose Fate it was, to fall most
+passionately in Love with a fair young Lady, who lov'd him with an
+Ardour equal to what he vow'd her. Sure of her Heart, and wanting only
+the Approbation of her Parents, and his own, which her Quality did not
+suffer him to despair of, he boasted of his Happiness to a young Prince,
+his elder Brother, a�Youth amorous and fierce, impatient of Joys, and
+sensible of Beauty, taking Fire with all fair Eyes: He was his Father's
+Darling, and Delight of his fond Mother; and, by an Ascendant over both
+their Hearts, rul'd their Wills.
+
+'This young Prince no sooner saw, but lov'd the fair Mistress of his
+Brother; and with an Authority of a Sovereign, rather than the Advice of
+a Friend, warn'd his Brother _Henrick_ (this now young Friar) to
+approach no more this Lady, whom he had seen; and seeing, lov'd.
+
+'In vain the poor surpriz'd Prince pleads his Right of Love, his
+Exchange of Vows, and Assurance of a Heart that could never be but for
+himself. In vain he urges his Nearness of Blood, his Friendship, his
+Passion, or his Life, which so entirely depended on the Possession of
+the charming Maid. All his Pleading serv'd but to blow his Brother's
+Flame; and the more he implores, the more the other burns; and while
+_Henrick_ follows him, on his Knees, with humble Submissions, the other
+flies from him in Rages of transported Love; nor could his Tears, that
+pursu'd his Brother's Steps, move him to Pity: Hot-headed,
+vain-conceited of his Beauty, and greater Quality as elder Brother, he
+doubts not of Success, and resolv'd to sacrifice all to the Violence of
+his new-born Passion.
+
+'In short, he speaks of his Design to his Mother, who promis'd him her
+Assistance; and accordingly proposing it first to the Prince her
+Husband, urging the Languishment of her Son, she soon wrought so on him,
+that a Match being concluded between the Parents of this young Beauty,
+and _Henrick's_ Brother, the Hour was appointed before she knew of the
+Sacrifice she was to be made. And while this was in Agitation, _Henrick_
+was sent on some great Affairs, up into _Germany_, far out of the Way;
+not but his boding Heart, with perpetual Sighs and Throbs, eternally
+foretold him his Fate.
+
+'All the Letters he wrote were intercepted, as well as those she wrote
+to him. She finds herself every Day perplex'd with the Addresses of the
+Prince she hated; he was ever sighing at her Feet. In vain were all her
+reproaches, and all her Coldness, he was on the surer Side; for what he
+found Love would not do, Force of Parents would.
+
+'She complains, in her Heart, of young _Henrick_, from whom she could
+never receive one Letter; and at last could not forbear bursting into
+Tears, in spite of all her Force, and feign'd Courage, when, on a Day,
+the Prince told her, that _Henrick_ was withdrawn to give him Time to
+court her; to whom he said, he confess'd he had made some Vows, but did
+repent of 'em, knowing himself too young to make 'em good: That it was
+for that Reason he brought him first to see her; and for that Reason,
+that after that, he never saw her more, nor so much as took Leave of
+her; when, indeed, his Death lay upon the next Visit, his Brother having
+sworn to murder him; and to that End, put a Guard upon him, till he was
+sent into _Germany_.
+
+'All this he utter'd with so many passionate Asseverations, Vows, and
+seeming Pity for her being so inhumanly abandon'd, that she almost gave
+Credit to all he had said, and had much ado to keep herself within the
+Bounds of Moderation, and silent Grief. Her Heart was breaking, her Eyes
+languish'd, and her Cheeks grew pale, and she had like to have fallen
+dead into the treacherous Arms of him that had reduc'd her to this
+Discovery; but she did what she could to assume her Courage, and to shew
+as little Resentment as possible for a Heart, like hers, oppress'd with
+Love, and now abandon'd by the dear Subject of its Joys and Pains.
+
+'But, Madam, not to tire you with this Adventure, the Day arriv'd
+wherein our still weeping Fair Unfortunate was to be sacrific'd to the
+Capriciousness of Love; and she was carry'd to Court by her Parents,
+without knowing to what End, where she was even compell'd to marry the
+Prince.
+
+'_Henrick_, who all this While knew no more of his Unhappiness, than
+what his Fears suggested, returns, and passes even to the Presence of
+his Father, before he knew any Thing of his Fortune; where he beheld his
+Mistress and his Brother, with his Father, in such a Familiarity, as he
+no longer doubted his Destiny. 'Tis hard to judge, whether the Lady, or
+himself, was most surpriz'd; she was all pale and unmoveable in her
+Chair, and _Henrick_ fix'd like a Statue; at last Grief and Rage took
+Place of Amazement, and he could not forbear crying out, _Ah, Traytor!
+Is it thus you have treated a Friend and Brother? And you, O�perjur'd
+Charmer! Is it thus you have rewarded all my Vows?_ He could say no
+more; but reeling against the Door, had fallen in a Swoon upon the
+Floor, had not his Page caught him in his Arms, who was entring with
+him. The good old Prince, the Father, who knew not what all this meant,
+was soon inform'd by the young weeping Princess; who, in relating the
+Story of her Amour with _Henrick_, told her Tale in so moving a Manner,
+as brought Tears to the Old Man's Eyes, and Rage to those of her
+Husband; he immediately grew jealous to the last Degree: He finds
+himself in Possession ('tis true) of the Beauty he ador'd, but the
+Beauty adoring another; a�Prince young and charming as the Light, soft,
+witty, and raging with an equal Passion. He finds this dreaded Rival in
+the same House with him, with an Authority equal to his own; and
+fancies, where two Hearts are so entirely agreed, and have so good an
+Understanding, it would not be impossible to find Opportunities to
+satisfy and ease that mutual Flame, that burnt so equally in both; he
+therefore resolved to send him out of the World, and to establish his
+own Repose by a Deed, wicked, cruel, and unnatural, to have him
+assassinated the first Opportunity he could find. This Resolution set
+him a little at Ease, and he strove to dissemble Kindness to _Henrick_,
+with all the Art he was capable of, suffering him to come often to the
+Apartment of the Princess, and to entertain her oftentimes with
+Discourse, when he was not near enough to hear what he spoke; but still
+watching their Eyes, he found those of _Henrick_ full of Tears, ready to
+flow, but restrain'd, looking all dying, and yet reproaching, while
+those of the Princess were ever bent to the Earth, and she as much as
+possible, shunning his Conversation. Yet this did not satisfy the
+jealous Husband; 'twas not her Complaisance that could appease him; he
+found her Heart was panting within, whenever _Henrick_ approach'd her,
+and every Visit more and more confirmed his Death.
+
+'The Father often found the Disorders of the Sons; the Softness and
+Address of the one gave him as much Fear, as the angry Blushings, the
+fierce Looks, and broken Replies of the other, whenever he beheld
+_Henrick_ approach his Wife; so that the Father, fearing some ill
+Consequence of this, besought _Henrick_ to withdraw to some other
+Country, or travel into _Italy_, he being now of an Age that required a
+View of the World. He told his Father, That he would obey his Commands,
+tho' he was certain, that Moment he was to be separated from the Sight
+of the fair Princess, his Sister, would be the last of his Life; and, in
+fine, made so pitiful a Story of his suffering Love, as almost moved the
+old Prince to compassionate him so far, as to permit him to stay; but he
+saw inevitable Danger in that, and therefore bid him prepare for his
+Journey.
+
+'That which pass'd between the Father and _Henrick_, being a Secret,
+none talked of his departing from Court; so that the Design the Brother
+had went on; and making a Hunting-Match one Day, where most young People
+of Quality were, he order'd some whom he had hired to follow his
+Brother, so as if he chanced to go out of the Way, to dispatch him; and
+accordingly, Fortune gave 'em an Opportunity; for he lagg'd behind the
+Company, and turn'd aside into a pleasant Thicket of Hazles, where
+alighting, he walk'd on Foot in the most pleasant Part of it, full of
+Thought, how to divide his Soul between Love and Obedience. He was
+sensible that he ought not to stay; that he was but an Affliction to the
+young Princess, whose Honour could never permit her to ease any Part of
+his Flame; nor was he so vicious to entertain a Thought that should
+stain her Virtue. He beheld her now as his Brother's Wife, and that
+secured his Flame from all loose Desires, if her native Modesty had not
+been sufficient of itself to have done it, as well as that profound
+Respect he paid her; and he consider'd, in obeying his Father, he left
+her at Ease, and his Brother freed of a thousand Fears; he went to seek
+a Cure, which if he could not find, at last he could but die; and so he
+must, even at her Feet: However, that it was more noble to seek a Remedy
+for his Disease, than expect a certain Death by staying. After a
+thousand Reflections on his hard Fate, and bemoaning himself, and
+blaming his cruel Stars, that had doom'd him to die so young, after an
+Infinity of Sighs and Tears, Resolvings and Unresolvings, he, on the
+sudden, was interrupted by the trampling of some Horses he heard, and
+their rushing through the Boughs, and saw four Men make towards him: He
+had not time to mount, being walk'd some Paces from his Horse. One of
+the Men advanced, and cry'd, _Prince, you must die_--_I do believe
+thee_, (reply'd _Henrick_) _but not by a Hand so base as thine_: And at
+the same Time drawing his Sword, run him into the Groin. When the Fellow
+found himself so wounded, he wheel'd off and cry'd, _Thou art a Prophet,
+and hast rewarded my Treachery with Death._ The rest came up, and one
+shot at the Prince, and shot him in the Shoulder; the other two hastily
+laying hold (but too late) on the Hand of the Murderer, cry'd, _Hold,
+Traytor; we relent, and he shall not die._ He reply'd, _'Tis too late,
+he is shot; and see, he lies dead. Let us provide for ourselves, and
+tell the Prince, we have done the Work; for you are as guilty as I am._
+At that they all fled, and left the Prince lying under a Tree, weltering
+in his Blood.
+
+'About the Evening, the Forester going his Walks, saw the Horse, richly
+caparison'd, without a Rider, at the Entrance of the Wood; and going
+farther, to see if he could find its Owner, found there the Prince
+almost dead; he immediately mounts him on the Horse, and himself behind,
+bore him up, and carry'd him to the Lodge; where he had only one old
+Man, his Father, well skilled in Surgery, and a Boy. They put him to
+Bed; and the old Forester, with what Art he had, dress'd his Wounds, and
+in the Morning sent for an abler Surgeon, to whom the Prince enjoin'd
+Secrecy, because he knew him. The Man was faithful, and the Prince in
+Time was recover'd of his Wound; and as soon as he was well, he came to
+_Flanders_, in the Habit of a Pilgrim, and after some Time took the
+Order of St. _Francis_, none knowing what became of him, till he was
+profess'd; and then he wrote his own Story to the Prince his Father, to
+his Mistress, and his ungrateful Brother. The young Princess did not
+long survive his Loss, she languished from the Moment of his Departure;
+and he had this to confirm his devout Life, to know she dy'd for him.
+
+'My Brother, Madam, was an Officer under the Prince his Father, and knew
+his Story perfectly well; from whose Mouth I had it.'
+
+_What!_ (reply'd _Miranda_ then) _is Father +Henrick+ a Man of Quality_?
+_Yes, Madam_, (said _Cornelia_) _and has changed his Name to
++Francisco+._ But _Miranda_, fearing to betray the Sentiments of her
+Heart, by asking any more Questions about him, turned the Discourse; and
+some Persons of Quality came in to visit her (for her Apartment was
+about six o'Clock, like the Presence-Chamber of a Queen, always filled
+with the greatest People): There meet all the _Beaux Esprits_, and all
+the Beauties. But it was visible _Miranda_ was not so gay as she used to
+be; but pensive, and answering _mal a propos_ to all that was said to
+her. She was a thousand times going to speak, against her Will,
+something of the charming Friar, who was never from her Thoughts; and
+she imagined, if he could inspire Love in a coarse, grey, ill-made
+Habit, a�shorn Crown, a�Hair-cord about his Waist, bare-legg'd, in
+Sandals instead of Shoes; what must he do, when looking back on Time,
+she beholds him in a Prospect of Glory, with all that Youth, and
+illustrious Beauty, set off by the Advantage of Dress and Equipage? She
+frames an Idea of him all gay and splendid, and looks on his present
+Habit as some Disguise proper for the Stealths of Love; some feigned
+put-on Shape, with the more Security to approach a Mistress, and make
+himself happy; and that the Robe laid by, she has the Lover in his
+proper Beauty, the same he would have been, if any other Habit (though
+ever so rich) were put off: In the Bed, the silent gloomy Night, and the
+soft Embraces of her Arms, he loses all the Friar, and assumes all the
+Prince; and that aweful Reverence, due alone to his Holy Habit, he
+exchanges for a thousand Dalliances, for which his Youth was made; for
+Love, for tender Embraces, and all the Happiness of Life. Some Moments
+she fancies him a Lover, and that the fair Object that takes up all his
+Heart, has left no Room for her there; but that was a Thought that did
+not long perplex her, and which, almost as soon as born, she turned to
+her Advantage. She beholds him a Lover, and therefore finds he has a
+Heart sensible and tender; he had Youth to be fir'd, as well as to
+inspire; he was far from the loved Object, and totally without Hope; and
+she reasonably consider'd, that Flame would of itself soon die, that had
+only Despair to feed on. She beheld her own Charms; and Experience, as
+well as her Glass, told her, they never failed of Conquest, especially
+where they designed it: And she believed _Henrick_ would be glad, at
+least, to quench that Flame in himself, by an Amour with her, which was
+kindled by the young Princess of ---- his Sister.
+
+These, and a thousand other Self-flatteries, all vain and indiscreet,
+took up her waking Nights, and now more retired Days; while Love, to
+make her truly wretched, suffered her to sooth herself with fond
+Imaginations; not so much as permitting her Reason to plead one Moment
+to save her from undoing: She would not suffer it to tell her, he had
+taken Holy Orders, made sacred and solemn Vows of everlasting Chastity,
+that it was impossible he could marry her, or lay before her any
+Argument that might prevent her Ruin; but Love, mad malicious Love, was
+always called to Counsel, and, like easy Monarchs, she had no Ears, but
+for Flatterers.
+
+Well then, she is resolv'd to love, without considering to what End, and
+what must be the Consequence of such an Amour. She now miss'd no Day of
+being at that little Church, where she had the Happiness, or rather the
+Misfortune (so�Love ordained) to see this Ravisher of her Heart and
+Soul; and every Day she took new Fire from his lovely Eyes. Unawares,
+unknown, and unwillingly, he gave her Wounds, and the Difficulty of her
+Cure made her rage the more: She burnt, she languished, and died for the
+young Innocent, who knew not he was the Author of so much Mischief.
+
+Now she resolves a thousand Ways in her tortur'd Mind, to let him know
+her Anguish, and at last pitch'd upon that of writing to him soft
+Billets, which she had learn'd the Art of doing; or if she had not, she
+had now Fire enough to inspire her with all that could charm and move.
+These she deliver'd to a young Wench, who waited on her, and whom she
+had entirely subdu'd to her Interest, to give to a certain Lay-Brother
+of the Order, who was a very simple harmless Wretch, and who served in
+the Kitchen, in the Nature of a Cook, in the Monastery of _Cordeliers_.
+She gave him Gold to secure his Faith and Service; and not knowing from
+whence they came (with so good Credentials) he undertook to deliver the
+Letters to Father _Francisco_; which Letters were all afterwards, as you
+shall hear, produced in open Court. These Letters failed not to come
+every Day; and the Sense of the first was, to tell him, that a very
+beautiful young Lady, of a great Fortune, was in love with him, without
+naming her; but it came as from a third Person, to let him know the
+Secret, that she desir'd he would let her know whether she might hope
+any Return from him; assuring him, he needed but only see the fair
+Languisher, to confess himself her Slave.
+
+This Letter being deliver'd him, he read by himself, and was surpriz'd
+to receive Words of this Nature, being so great a Stranger in that
+Place; and could not imagine or would not give himself the Trouble of
+guessing who this should be, because he never designed to make Returns.
+
+The next Day, _Miranda_, finding no Advantage from her Messenger of
+Love, in the Evening sends another (impatient of Delay) confessing that
+she who suffer'd the Shame of writing and imploring, was the Person
+herself who ador'd him. 'Twas there her raging Love made her say all
+Things that discover'd the Nature of its Flame, and propose to flee with
+him to any Part of the World, if he would quit the Convent; that she had
+a Fortune considerable enough to make him happy; and that his Youth and
+Quality were not given him to so unprofitable an End as to lose
+themselves in a Convent, where Poverty and Ease was all the Business. In
+fine, she leaves nothing unurg'd that might debauch and invite him; not
+forgetting to send him her own Character of Beauty, and left him to
+judge of her Wit and Spirit by her Writing, and her Love by the
+Extremity of Passion she profess'd. To all which the lovely Friar made
+no Return, as believing a gentle Capitulation or Exhortation to her
+would but inflame her the more, and give new Occasions for her
+continuing to write. All her Reasonings, false and vicious, he despis'd,
+pity'd the Error of her Love, and was Proof against all she could plead.
+Yet notwithstanding his Silence, which left her in Doubt, and more
+tormented her, she ceas'd not to pursue him with her Letters, varying
+her Style; sometimes all wanton, loose and raving; sometimes feigning a
+Virgin-Modesty all over, accusing her self, blaming her Conduct, and
+sighing her Destiny, as one compell'd to the shameful Discovery by the
+Austerity of his Vow and Habit, asking his Pity and Forgiveness; urging
+him in Charity to use his Fatherly Care to persuade and reason with her
+wild Desires, and by his Counsel drive the God from her Heart, whose
+Tyranny was worse than that of a Fiend; and he did not know what his
+pious Advice might do. But still she writes in vain, in vain she varies
+her Style, by a Cunning, peculiar to a Maid possess'd with such a sort
+of Passion.
+
+This cold Neglect was still Oil to the burning Lamp, and she tries yet
+more Arts, which for want of right Thinking were as fruitless. She has
+Recourse to Presents; her Letters came loaded with Rings of great Price,
+and Jewels, which Fops of Quality had given her. Many of this Sort he
+receiv'd, before he knew where to return 'em, or how; and on this
+Occasion alone he sent her a Letter, and restor'd her Trifles, as he
+call'd them: But his Habit having not made him forget his Quality and
+Education, he wrote to her with all the profound Respect imaginable;
+believing by her Presents, and the Liberality with which she parted with
+'em, that she was of Quality. But the whole Letter, as he told me
+afterwards, was to persuade her from the Honour she did him, by loving
+him; urging a thousand Reasons, solid and pious, and assuring her, he
+had wholly devoted the rest of his Days to Heaven, and had no Need of
+those gay Trifles she had sent him, which were only fit to adorn Ladies
+so fair as herself, and who had Business with this glittering World,
+which he disdain'd, and had for ever abandon'd. He sent her a thousand
+Blessings, and told her, she should be ever in his Prayers, tho' not in
+his Heart, as she desir'd: And abundance of Goodness more he express'd,
+and Counsel he gave her, which had the same Effect with his Silence; it
+made her love but the more, and the more impatient she grew. She now had
+a new Occasion to write, she now is charm'd with his Wit; this was the
+new Subject. She rallies his Resolution, and endeavours to re-call him
+to the World, by all the Arguments that human Invention is capable�of.
+
+But when she had above four Months languish'd thus in vain, not missing
+one Day, wherein she went not to see him, without discovering herself to
+him; she resolv'd, as her last Effort, to shew her Person, and see what
+that, assisted by her Tears, and soft Words from her Mouth, could do, to
+prevail upon him.
+
+It happen'd to be on the Eve of that Day when she was to receive the
+Sacrament, that she, covering herself with her Veil, came to _Vespers_,
+purposing to make Choice of the conquering Friar for her Confessor.
+
+She approach'd him; and as she did so, she trembled with Love. At last
+she cry'd, _Father, my Confessor is gone for some Time from the Town,
+and I am obliged To-morrow to receive, and beg you will be pleas'd to
+take my Confession._
+
+He could not refuse her; and let her into the _Sacristy_, where there is
+a Confession-Chair, in which he seated himself; and on one Side of him
+she kneel'd down, over-against a little Altar, where the Priests Robes
+lye, on which were plac'd some lighted Wax-Candles, that made the little
+Place very light and splendid, which shone full upon _Miranda_.
+
+After the little Preparation usual in Confession, she turn'd up her
+Veil, and discover'd to his View the most wondrous Object of Beauty he
+had ever seen, dress'd in all the Glory of a young Bride; her Hair and
+Stomacher full of Diamonds, that gave a Lustre all dazling to her
+brighter Face and Eyes. He was surpriz'd at her amazing Beauty, and
+question'd whether he saw a Woman, or an Angel at his Feet. Her Hands,
+which were elevated, as if in Prayer, seem'd to be form'd of polish'd
+Alabaster; and he confess'd, he had never seen any Thing in Nature so
+perfect and so admirable.
+
+He had some Pain to compose himself to hear her Confession, and was
+oblig'd to turn away his Eyes, that his Mind might not be perplex'd with
+an Object so diverting; when _Miranda_, opening the finest Mouth in the
+World, and discovering new Charms, began her Confession.
+
+'Holy Father (_said she_) amongst the Number of my vile Offences, that
+which afflicts me to the greatest Degree, is, that I am in love: Not
+(_continued she_) that I believe simple and virtuous Love a Sin, when
+'tis plac'd on an Object proper and suitable; but, my dear Father,
+(_said she, and wept_) I love with a Violence which cannot be contain'd
+within the Bounds of Reason, Moderation, or Virtue. I�love a Man whom I
+cannot possess without a Crime, and a Man who cannot make me happy
+without being perjur'd. Is he marry'd? (_reply'd the Father._) No;
+(_answer'd +Miranda+._) Are you so? (_continued�he._) Neither, (_said
+she._) Is he too near ally'd to you? (_said +Francisco+:_) a�Brother, or
+Relation? Neither of these, (_said she._) He is unenjoy'd, unpromis'd;
+and so am I: Nothing opposes our Happiness, or makes my Love a Vice, but
+you--'Tis you deny me Life: 'Tis you that forbid my Flame: 'Tis you will
+have me die, and seek my Remedy in my Grave, when I complain of
+Tortures, Wounds, and Flames. O�cruel Charmer! 'tis for you I languish;
+and here, at your Feet, implore that Pity, which all my Addresses have
+fail'd of procuring me.'--
+
+With that, perceiving he was about to rise from his Seat, she held him
+by his Habit, and vow'd she would in that Posture follow him, where-ever
+he flew from her. She elevated her Voice so loud, he was afraid she
+might be heard, and therefore suffer'd her to force him into his Chair
+again; where being seated, he began, in the most passionate Terms
+imaginable, to dissuade her; but finding she the more persisted in
+Eagerness of Passion, he us'd all the tender Assurance that he could
+force from himself, that he would have for her all the Respect, Esteem
+and Friendship that he was capable of paying; that he had a real
+Compassion for her: and at last she prevail'd so far with him, by her
+Sighs and Tears, as to own he had a Tenderness for her, and that he
+could not behold so many Charms, without being sensibly touch'd by 'em,
+and finding all those Effects, that a Maid so fair and young causes in
+the Souls of Men of Youth and Sense: But that, as he was assured, he
+could never be so happy to marry her, and as certain he could not grant
+any Thing but honourable Passion, he humbly besought her not to expect
+more from him than such. And then began to tell her how short Life was,
+and transitory its Joys; how soon she would grow weary of Vice, and how
+often change to find real Repose in it, but never arrive to it. He made
+an End, by new Assurance of his eternal Friendship, but utterly forbad
+her to hope.
+
+Behold her now deny'd, refus'd and defeated, with all her pleading
+Youth, Beauty, Tears, and Knees, imploring, as she lay, holding fast his
+_Scapular_, and embracing his Feet. What shall she do? She swells with
+Pride, Love, Indignation and Desire; her burning Heart is bursting with
+Despair, her Eyes grow fierce, and from Grief she rises to a Storm; and
+in her Agony of Passion, with Looks all disdainful, haughty, and full of
+Rage, she began to revile him, as the poorest of Animals; tells him his
+Soul was dwindled to the Meanness of his Habit, and his Vows of Poverty
+were suited to his degenerate Mind. 'And (_said she_) since all my
+nobler Ways have fail'd me; and that, for a little Hypocritical
+Devotion, you resolve to lose the greatest Blessings of Life, and to
+sacrifice me to your Religious Pride and Vanity, I�will either force you
+to abandon that dull Dissimulation, or you shall die, to prove your
+Sanctity real. Therefore answer me immediately, answer my Flame, my
+raging Fire, which your Eyes have kindled; or here, in this very Moment,
+I�will ruin thee; and make no Scruple of revenging the Pains I suffer,
+by that which shall take away your Life and Honour.'
+
+The trembling young Man, who, all this While, with extreme Anguish of
+Mind, and Fear of the dire Result, had listen'd to her Ravings, full of
+Dread, demanded what she would have him do? When she reply'd--'Do that
+which thy Youth and Beauty were ordain'd to do:--this Place is private,
+a�sacred Silence reigns here, and no one dares to pry into the Secrets
+of this Holy Place: We are as secure from Fears and Interruption, as in
+Desarts uninhabited, or Caves forsaken by wild Beasts. The Tapers too
+shall veil their Lights, and only that glimmering Lamp shall be Witness
+of our dear Stealths of Love--Come to my Arms, my trembling, longing
+Arms; and curse the Folly of thy Bigotry, that has made thee so long
+lose a Blessing, for which so many Princes sigh in vain.'
+
+At these Words she rose from his Feet, and snatching him in her Arms, he
+could not defend himself from receiving a thousand Kisses from the
+lovely Mouth of the charming Wanton; after which, she ran herself, and
+in an Instant put out the Candles. But he cry'd to her, 'In vain, O�too
+indiscreet Fair One, in vain you put out the Light; for Heaven still has
+Eyes, and will look down upon my broken Vows. I�own your Power, I�own I
+have all the Sense in the World of your charming Touches; I�am frail
+Flesh and Blood, but--yet--yet I can resist; and I prefer my Vows to all
+your powerful Temptations.--I will be deaf and blind, and guard my Heart
+with Walls of Ice, and make you know, that when the Flames of true
+Devotion are kindled in a Heart, it puts out all other Fires; which are
+as ineffectual, as Candles lighted in the Face of the Sun.--Go, vain
+Wanton, and repent, and mortify that Blood which has so shamefully
+betray'd thee, and which will one Day ruin both thy Soul and Body.'--
+
+At these Words _Miranda_, more enrag'd, the nearer she imagin'd her self
+to Happiness, made no Reply; but throwing her self, in that Instant,
+into the Confessing-Chair, and violently pulling the young Friar into
+her Lap, she elevated her Voice to such a Degree, in crying out, _Help,
+Help! A�Rape! Help, Help!_ that she was heard all over the Church, which
+was full of People at the Evening's Devotion; who flock'd about the Door
+of the _Sacristy_, which was shut with a Spring-Lock on the Inside, but
+they durst not open the Door.
+
+'Tis easily to be imagin'd, in what Condition our young Friar was, at
+this last devilish Stratagem of his wicked Mistress. He strove to break
+from those Arms that held him so fast; and his Bustling to get away, and
+her's to retain him, disorder'd her Hair and Habit to such a Degree, as
+gave the more Credit to her false Accusation.
+
+The Fathers had a Door on the other Side, by which they usually enter'd,
+to dress in this little Room; and at the Report that was in an Instant
+made 'em, they hasted thither, and found _Miranda_ and the good Father
+very indecently struggling; which they mis-interpreted, as _Miranda_
+desir'd; who, all in Tears, immediately threw her self at the Feet of
+the Provincial, who was one of those that enter'd; and cry'd, 'O�holy
+Father! revenge an innocent Maid, undone and lost to Fame and Honour, by
+that vile Monster, born of Goats, nurs'd by Tygers, and bred up on
+savage Mountains, where Humanity and Religion are Strangers. For, O�holy
+Father, could it have enter'd into the Heart of Man, to have done so
+barbarous and horrid a Deed, as to attempt the Virgin-Honour of an
+unspotted Maid, and one of my Degree, even in the Moment of my
+Confession, in that holy Time, when I was prostrate before him and
+Heaven, confessing those Sins that press'd my tender Conscience; even
+then to load my Soul with the blackest of Infamies, to add to my Number
+a Weight that must sink me to Hell? Alas! under the Security of his
+innocent Looks, his holy Habit, and his aweful Function, I�was led into
+this Room to make my Confession; where, he locking the Door, I�had no
+sooner began, but he gazing on me, took fire at my fatal Beauty; and
+starting up, put out the Candles and caught me in his Arms; and raising
+me from the Pavement, set me in the Confession-Chair; and then--Oh,
+spare me the rest.'
+
+With that a Shower of Tears burst from her fair dissembling Eyes, and
+Sobs so naturally acted, and so well manag'd, as left no doubt upon the
+good Men, but all she had spoken was Truth.
+
+'--At first, (_proceeded she_) I was unwilling to bring so great a
+Scandal on his Order, to cry out; but struggled as long as I had Breath;
+pleaded the Heinousness of the Crime, urging my Quality, and the Danger
+of the Attempt. But he, deaf as the Winds, and ruffling as a Storm,
+pursu'd his wild Design with so much Force and Insolence, as I at last,
+unable to resist, was wholly vanquish'd, robb'd of my native Purity.
+With what Life and Breath I had, I�call'd for Assistance, both from Men
+and Heaven; but oh, alas! your Succours came too late:--You find me here
+a wretched, undone, and ravish'd Maid. Revenge me, Fathers; revenge me
+on the perfidious Hypocrite, or else give me a Death that may secure
+your Cruelty and Injustice from ever being proclaim'd over the World; or
+my Tongue will be eternally reproaching you, and cursing the wicked
+Author of my Infamy.'
+
+She ended as she began, with a thousand Sighs and Tears; and received
+from the Provincial all Assurances of Revenge.
+
+The innocent betray'd Victim, all the while she was speaking, heard her
+with an Astonishment that may easily be imagined; yet shew'd no
+extravagant Signs of it, as those would do, who feign it, to be thought
+innocent; but being really so, he bore with an humble, modest, and
+blushing Countenance, all her Accusations; which silent Shame they
+mistook for evident Signs of his Guilt.
+
+When the Provincial demanded, with an unwonted Severity in his Eyes and
+Voice, what he could answer for himself? calling him Profaner of his
+Sacred Vows, and Infamy to the Holy Order; the injur'd, but innocently
+accus'd, only reply'd: 'May Heaven forgive that bad Woman, and bring her
+to Repentance! For his Part, he was not so much in Love with Life, as to
+use many arguments to justify his Innocence; unless it were to free that
+Order from a Scandal, of which he had the Honour to be profess'd. But as
+for himself, Life or Death were Things indifferent to him, who heartily
+despis'd the World.'
+
+He said no more, and suffer'd himself to be led before the Magistrate;
+who committed him to Prison, upon the Accusation of this implacable
+Beauty; who, with so much feign'd Sorrow, prosecuted the Matter, even to
+his Tryal and Condemnation; where he refus'd to make any great Defence
+for himself. But being daily visited by all the Religious, both of his
+own and other Orders, they oblig'd him (some of 'em knowing the
+Austerity of his Life, others his Cause of Griefs that first brought him
+into Orders, and others pretending a nearer Knowledge, even of his Soul
+it self) to stand upon his Justification, and discover what he knew of
+that wicked Woman; whose Life had not been so exemplary for Virtue, not
+to have given the World a thousand Suspicions of her Lewdness and
+Prostitutions.
+
+The daily Importunities of these Fathers made him produce her Letters:
+But as he had all the Gown-men on his Side, she had all the Hats and
+Feathers on her's; all the Men of Quality taking her Part, and all the
+Church-men his. They heard his daily Protestations and Vows, but not a
+Word of what passed at Confession was yet discover'd: He held that as a
+Secret sacred on his Part; and what was said in Nature of a Confession,
+was not to be revealed, though his Life depended on the Discovery. But
+as to the Letters, they were forc'd from him, and expos'd; however,
+Matters were carry'd with so high a Hand against him, that they serv'd
+for no Proof at all of his Innocence, and he was at last condemn'd to be
+burn'd at the Market-Place.
+
+After his Sentence was pass'd, the whole Body of Priests made their
+Addresses to the Marquis _Castel Roderigo_, the then Governor of
+_Flanders_, for a Reprieve; which, after much ado, was granted him for
+some Weeks, but with an absolute Denial of Pardon: So prevailing were
+the young Cavaliers of his Court, who were all Adorers of this Fair
+Jilt.
+
+About this time, while the poor innocent young _Henrick_ was thus
+languishing in Prison, in a dark and dismal Dungeon, and _Miranda_,
+cured of her Love, was triumphing in her Revenge, expecting and daily
+giving new Conquests; and who, by this time, had re-assum'd all her
+wonted Gaiety; there was a great Noise about the Town, that a Prince of
+mighty Name, and fam'd for all the Excellencies of his Sex, was arriv'd;
+a�Prince young, and gloriously attended, call'd Prince _Tarquin_.
+
+We had often heard of this great Man, and that he was making his Travels
+in _France_ and _Germany_: And we had also heard, that some Years
+before, he being about Eighteen Years of Age, in the Time when our King
+_Charles_, of blessed Memory, was in _Brussels_, in the last Year of his
+Banishment, that all on a sudden, this young Man rose up upon 'em like
+the Sun, all glorious and dazling, demanding Place of all the Princes in
+that Court. And when his Pretence was demanded, he own'd himself Prince
+_Tarquin_, of the Race of the last Kings of _Rome_, made good his Title,
+and took his Place accordingly. After that he travell'd for about six
+Years up and down the World, and then arriv'd at _Antwerp_, about the
+Time of my being sent thither by King _Charles_.
+
+Perhaps there could be nothing seen so magnificent as this Prince: He
+was, as I said, extremely handsome, from Head to Foot exactly form'd,
+and he wanted nothing that might adorn that native Beauty to the best
+Advantage. His Parts were suitable to the rest: He had an Accomplishment
+fit for a Prince, an Air haughty, but a Carriage affable, easy in
+Conversation, and very entertaining, liberal and good-natur'd, brave and
+inoffensive. I�have seen him pass the Streets with twelve Footmen, and
+four Pages; the Pages all in green Velvet Coats lac'd with Gold, and
+white Velvet Tunicks; the Men in Cloth, richly lac'd with Gold; his
+Coaches, and all other Officers, suitable to a great Man.
+
+He was all the Discourse of the Town; some laughing at his Title, others
+reverencing it: Some cry'd, that he was an Imposter; others, that he had
+made his Title as plain, as if _Tarquin_ had reign'd but a Year ago.
+Some made Friendships with him, others would have nothing to say to him:
+But all wonder'd where his Revenue was, that supported this Grandeur;
+and believ'd, tho' he could make his Descent from the _Roman_ Kings very
+well out, that he could not lay so good a Claim to the _Roman_ Land.
+Thus every body meddled with what they had nothing to do; and, as in
+other Places, thought themselves on the surer Side, if, in these
+doubtful Cases, they imagin'd the worst.
+
+But the Men might be of what Opinion they pleas'd concerning him; the
+Ladies were all agreed that he was a Prince, and a young handsome
+Prince, and a Prince not to be resisted: He had all their Wishes, all
+their Eyes, and all their Hearts. They now dress'd only for him; and
+what Church he grac'd, was sure, that Day, to have the Beauties, and all
+that thought themselves�so.
+
+You may believe, our amorous _Miranda_ was not the least Conquest he
+made. She no sooner heard of him, which was as soon as he arriv'd, but
+she fell in love with his very Name. _Jesu!_--A young King of _Rome!_
+Oh, it was so novel, that she doated on the Title; and had not car'd
+whether the rest had been Man or Monkey almost: She was resolved to be
+the _Lucretia_ that this young _Tarquin_ should ravish.
+
+To this End, she was no sooner up the next Day, but she sent him a
+_Billet Doux_, assuring him how much she admired his Fame; and that
+being a Stranger in the Town, she begged the Honour of introducing him
+to all the _Belle_ Conversations, _&c._ which he took for the Invitation
+of some Coquet, who had Interest in fair Ladies; and civilly return'd
+her an Answer, that he would wait on her. She had him that Day watched
+to Church; and impatient to see what she heard so many People flock to
+see, she went also to the same Church; those sanctified Abodes being too
+often profaned by such Devotees, whose Business is to ogle and ensnare.
+
+But what a Noise and Humming was heard all over the Church, when
+_Tarquin_ enter'd! His Grace, his Mein, his Fashion, his Beauty, his
+Dress, and his Equipage surprized all that were present: And by the good
+Management and Care of _Miranda_, she got to kneel at the Side of the
+Altar, just over against the Prince, so that, if he would, he could not
+avoid looking full upon her. She had turned up her Veil, and all her
+Face and Shape appear'd such, and so inchanting, as I have described;
+and her Beauty heighten'd with Blushes, and her Eyes full of Spirit and
+Fire, with Joy, to find the young _Roman_ Monarch so charming, she
+appear'd like something more than mortal, and compelled his Eyes to a
+fixed gazing on her Face: She never glanc'd that Way, but she met them;
+and then would feign so modest a Shame, and cast her Eyes downwards with
+such inviting Art, that he was wholly ravished and charmed, and she
+over-joy'd to find he was�so.
+
+The Ceremony being ended, he sent a Page to follow that Lady Home,
+himself pursuing her to the Door of the Church, where he took some holy
+Water, and threw upon her, and made her a profound Reverence. She forc'd
+an innocent Look, and a modest Gratitude in her Face, and bow'd, and
+passed forward, half assur'd of her Conquest; leaving her, to go home to
+his Lodging, and impatiently wait the Return of his Page. And all the
+Ladies who saw this first Beginning between the Prince and _Miranda_,
+began to curse and envy her Charms, who had deprived them of half their
+Hopes.
+
+After this, I need not tell you, he made _Miranda_ a Visit; and from
+that Day never left her Apartment, but when he went home at Nights, or
+unless he had Business; so entirely was he conquer'd by this Fair One.
+But the Bishop, and several Men of Quality, in Orders, that profess'd
+Friendship to him, advised him from her Company; and spoke several
+Things to him, that might (if�Love had not made him blind) have
+reclaimed him from the Pursuit of his Ruin. But whatever they trusted
+him with, she had the Art to wind herself about his Heart, and make him
+unravel all his Secrets; and then knew as well, by feign'd Sighs and
+Tears, to make him disbelieve all; so that he had no Faith but for her;
+and was wholly inchanted and bewitch'd by her. At last, in spite of all
+that would have opposed it, he marry'd this famous Woman, possess'd by
+so many great Men and Strangers before, while all the World was pitying
+his Shame and Misfortunes.
+
+Being marry'd, they took a great House; and as she was indeed a great
+Fortune, and now a great Princess, there was nothing wanting that was
+agreeable to their Quality; all was splendid and magnificent. But all
+this would not acquire them the World's Esteem; they had an Abhorrence
+for her former Life, and despised her; and for his espousing a Woman so
+infamous, they despised him. So that though they admir'd, and gazed upon
+their Equipage, and glorious Dress, they foresaw the Ruin that attended
+it, and paid her Quality little Respect.
+
+She was no sooner married, but her Uncle died; and dividing his Fortune
+between _Miranda_ and her Sister, leaves the young Heiress, and all her
+Fortune, entirely in the Hands of the Princess.
+
+We will call this Sister _Alcidiana_; she was about fourteen Years of
+Age, and now had chosen her Brother, the Prince, for her Guardian. If
+_Alcidiana_ were not altogether so great a Beauty as her Sister, she had
+Charms sufficient to procure her a great many Lovers, though her Fortune
+had not been so considerable as it was; but with that Addition, you may
+believe, she wanted no Courtships from those of the best Quality; tho'
+every body deplor'd her being under the Tutorage of a Lady so expert in
+all the Vices of her Sex, and so cunning a Manager of Sin, as was the
+Princess; who, on her Part, failed not, by all the Caresses, and
+obliging Endearments, to engage the Mind of this young Maid, and to
+subdue her wholly to her Government. All her Senses were eternally
+regaled with the most bewitching Pleasures they were capable of: She saw
+nothing but Glory and Magnificence, heard nothing but Musick of the
+sweetest Sounds; the richest Perfumes employ'd her Smelling; and all she
+eat and touch'd was delicate and inviting; and being too young to
+consider how this State and Grandeur was to be continu'd, little
+imagined her vast Fortune was every Day diminishing, towards its
+needless Support.
+
+When the Princess went to Church, she had her Gentleman bare before her,
+carrying a great Velvet Cushion, with great Golden Tassels, for her to
+kneel on, and her Train borne up a most prodigious Length, led by a
+Gentleman Usher, bare; follow'd by innumerable Footmen, Pages, and
+Women. And in this State she would walk in the Streets, as in those
+Countries it is the Fashion for the great Ladies to do, who are well;
+and in her Train two or three Coaches, and perhaps a rich Velvet Chair
+embroider'd, would follow in State.
+
+It was thus for some time they liv'd, and the Princess was daily press'd
+by young sighing Lovers, for her Consent to marry _Alcidiana_; but she
+had still one Art or other to put them off, and so continually broke all
+the great Matches that were proposed to her, notwithstanding their
+Kindred and other Friends had industriously endeavour'd to make several
+great Matches for her; but the Princess was still positive in her
+Denial, and one Way or other broke all. At last it happened, there was
+one proposed, yet more advantageous, a�young Count, with whom the young
+Maid grew passionately in Love, and besought her Sister to consent that
+she might have him, and got the Prince to speak in her Behalf; but he
+had no sooner heard the secret Reasons _Miranda_ gave him, but (entirely
+her Slave) he chang'd his Mind, and suited it to hers, and she, as
+before, broke off that Amour: Which so extremely incensed _Alcidiana_,
+that she, taking an Opportunity, got from her Guard, and ran away,
+putting her self into the Hands of a wealthy Merchant, her Kinsman, and
+one who bore the greatest Authority in the City; him she chuses for her
+Guardian, resolving to be no longer a Slave to the Tyranny of her
+Sister. And so well she ordered Matters, that she writ this young
+Cavalier, her last Lover, and retrieved him; who came back to _Antwerp_
+again, to renew his Courtship.
+
+Both Parties being agreed, it was no hard Matter to persuade all but the
+Princess. But though she opposed it, it was resolved on, and the Day
+appointed for Marriage, and the Portion demanded; demanded only, but
+never to be paid, the best Part of it being spent. However, she put them
+off from Day to Day, by a thousand frivolous Delays; and when she saw
+they would have Recourse to Force, and all that her Magnificence would
+be at an End, if the Law should prevail against her; and that without
+this Sister's Fortune, she could not long support her Grandeur; she
+bethought herself of a Means to make it all her own, by getting her
+Sister made away; but she being out of her Tuition, she was not able to
+accomplish so great a Deed of Darkness. But since it was resolved it
+must be done, she contrives a thousand Stratagems; and at last pitches
+upon an effectual one.
+
+She had a Page call'd _Van Brune_, a Youth of great Address and Wit, and
+one she had long managed for her Purpose. This Youth was about seventeen
+Years of Age, and extremely beautiful; and in the Time when _Alcidiana_
+lived with the Princess, she was a little in Love with this handsome
+Boy; but it was checked in its Infancy, and never grew up to a Flame:
+Nevertheless, _Alcidiana_ retained still a sort of Tenderness for him,
+while he burn'd in good Earnest with Love for the Princess.
+
+The Princess one Day ordering this Page to wait on her in her Closet,
+she shut the Door; and after a thousand Questions of what he would
+undertake to serve her, the amorous Boy finding himself alone, and
+caress'd by the fair Person he ador'd, with joyful Blushes that
+beautify'd his Face, told her, 'There was nothing upon Earth, he would
+not do, to obey her least Commands.' She grew more familiar with him, to
+oblige him; and seeing Love dance in his Eyes, of which she was so good
+a Judge, she treated him more like a Lover, than a Servant; till at last
+the ravished Youth, wholly transported out of himself, fell at her Feet,
+and impatiently implor'd to receive her Commands quickly, that he might
+fly to execute them; for he was not able to bear her charming Words,
+Looks, and Touches, and retain his Duty. At this she smil'd, and told
+him, the Work was of such a Nature, as would mortify all Flames about
+him; and he would have more Need of Rage, Envy, and Malice, than the
+Aids of a Passion so soft as what she now found him capable of. He
+assur'd her, he would stick at nothing, tho' even against his Nature, to
+recompense for the Boldness he now, through his Indiscretion, had
+discover'd. She smiling, told him, he had committed no Fault; and that
+possibly, the Pay he should receive for the Service she required at his
+Hands, should be--what he most wish'd for in the World. At this he bow'd
+to the Earth; and kissing her Feet, bad her command: And then she boldly
+told him, _'Twas to kill her Sister_ Alcidiana. The Youth, without so
+much as starting or pausing upon the Matter, told her, _It should be
+done_; and bowing low, immediately went out of the Closet. She call'd
+him back, and would have given him some Instruction; but he refused it,
+and said, 'The Action and the Contrivance should be all his own.' And
+offering to go again, she--again recalled him; putting into his Hand a
+Purse of a hundred Pistoles, which he took, and with a low Bow departed.
+
+He no sooner left her Presence, but he goes directly, and buys a Dose of
+Poison, and went immediately to the House where _Alcidiana_ lived; where
+desiring to be brought to her Presence, he fell a weeping; and told her,
+his Lady had fallen out with him, and dismissed him her Service, and
+since from a Child he had been brought up in the Family, he humbly
+besought _Alcidiana_ to receive him into hers, she being in a few Days
+to be marry'd. There needed not much Intreaty to a Thing that pleased
+her so well, and she immediately received him to Pension: And he waited
+some Days on her, before he could get an Opportunity to administer his
+devilish Potion. But one Night, when she drank Wine with roasted Apples,
+which was usual with her; instead of Sugar, or with the Sugar, the
+baneful Drug was mixed, and she drank it down.
+
+About this Time, there was a great Talk of this Page's coming from one
+Sister, to go to the other. And Prince _Tarquin_, who was ignorant of
+the Design from the Beginning to the End, hearing some Men of Quality at
+his Table speaking of _Van Brune's_ Change of Place (the Princess then
+keeping her Chamber upon some trifling Indisposition) he answer'd, 'That
+surely they were mistaken, that he was not dismissed from the Princess's
+Service:' And calling some of his Servants, he asked for _Van Brune_;
+and whether any Thing had happen'd between her Highness and him, that
+had occasion'd his being turned off. They all seem'd ignorant of this
+Matter; and those who had spoken of it, began to fancy there was some
+Juggle in the Case, which Time would bring to Light.
+
+The ensuing Day 'twas all about the Town, that _Alcidiana_ was poison'd;
+and though not dead, yet very near it; and that the Doctors said, she
+had taken Mercury. So that there was never so formidable a Sight as this
+fair young Creature; her Head and Body swoln, her Eyes starting out, her
+Face black, and all deformed: So that diligent Search was made, who it
+should be that did this; who gave her Drink and Meat. The Cook and
+Butler were examined, the Footman called to an Account; but all
+concluded, she received nothing but from the Hand of her new Page, since
+he came into her Service. He was examined, and shew'd a thousand guilty
+Looks: And the Apothecary, then attending among the Doctors, proved he
+had bought Mercury of him three or four Days before; which he could not
+deny; and making many Excuses for his buying it, betray'd him the more;
+so ill he chanced to dissemble. He was immediately sent to be examined
+by the Margrave or Justice, who made his _Mittimus_, and sent him to
+Prison.
+
+'Tis easy to imagine, in what Fears and Confusion the Princess was at
+this News: She took her Chamber upon it, more to hide her guilty Face,
+than for any Indisposition. And the Doctors apply'd such Remedies to
+_Alcidiana_, such Antidotes against the Poison, that in a short Time she
+recover'd; but lost the finest Hair in the World, and the Complexion of
+her Face ever after.
+
+It was not long before the Trials for Criminals came on; and the Day
+being arrived, _Van Brune_ was try'd the first of all; every Body having
+already read his Destiny, according as they wished it; and none would
+believe, but just indeed as it was: So that for the Revenge they hoped
+to see fall upon the Princess, every one wished he might find no Mercy,
+that she might share of his Shame and Misery.
+
+The Sessions-House was filled that Day with all the Ladies, and chief of
+the Town, to hear the Result of his Trial; and the sad Youth was
+brought, loaded with Chains, and pale as Death; where every Circumstance
+being sufficiently proved against him, and he making but a weak Defence
+for himself, he was convicted, and sent back to Prison, to receive his
+Sentence of Death on the Morrow; where he owned all, and who set him on
+to do it. He own'd 'twas not Reward of Gain he did it for, but Hope he
+should command at his Pleasure the Possession of his Mistress, the
+Princess, who should deny him nothing, after having entrusted him with
+so great a Secret; and that besides, she had elevated him with the
+Promise of that glorious Reward, and had dazzled his young Heart with so
+charming a Prospect, that blind and mad with Joy, he rushed forward to
+gain the desired Prize, and thought on nothing but his coming Happiness:
+That he saw too late the Follies of his presumptuous Flame, and cursed
+the deluding Flatteries of the fair Hypocrite, who had soothed him to
+his Undoing: That he was a miserable Victim to her Wickedness; and hoped
+he should warn all young Men, by his Fall, to avoid the Dissimulation of
+the deceiving Fair: That he hoped they would have Pity on his Youth, and
+attribute his Crime to the subtle Persuasions alone of his Mistress the
+Princess: And that since _Alcidiana_ was not dead, they would grant him
+Mercy, and permit him to live to repent of his grievous Crime, in some
+Part of the World, whither they might banish him.
+
+He ended with Tears, that fell in abundance from his Eyes; and
+immediately the Princess was apprehended, and brought to Prison, to the
+same Prison where yet the poor young Father _Francisco_ was languishing,
+he having been from Week to Week reprieved, by the Intercession of the
+Fathers; and possibly she there had Time to make some Reflections.
+
+You may imagine _Tarquin_ left no Means unessay'd, to prevent the
+Imprisonment of the Princess, and the publick Shame and Infamy she was
+likely to undergo in this Affair: But the whole City being over-joy'd
+that she should be punished, as an Author of all this Mischief, were
+generally bent against her, both Priests, Magistrates and People; the
+whole Force of the Stream running that Way, she found no more Favour
+than the meanest Criminal. The Prince therefore, when he saw 'twas
+impossible to rescue her from the Hands of Justice, suffer'd with Grief
+unspeakable, what he could not prevent, and led her himself to the
+Prison, follow'd by all his People, in as much State as if he had been
+going to his Marriage; where, when she came, she was as well attended
+and served as before, he never stirring one Moment from her.
+
+The next Day, she was tried in open and common Court; where she appeared
+in Glory, led by _Tarquin_, and attended according to her Quality: And
+she could not deny all the Page had alledged against her, who was
+brought thither also in Chains; and after a great many Circumstances,
+she was found Guilty, and both received Sentence; the Page to be hanged
+till he was dead, on a Gibbet in the Market-Place; and the Princess to
+stand under the Gibbet, with a Rope about her Neck, the other End of
+which was to be fastned to the Gibbet where the Page was hanging; and to
+have an Inscription, in large Characters, upon her Back and Breast, of
+the Cause why; where she was to stand from ten in the Morning to twelve.
+
+This Sentence, the People with one Accord, believed too favourable for
+so ill a Woman, whose Crimes deserved Death, equal to that of _Van
+Brune_. Nevertheless, there were some who said, it was infinitely more
+severe than Death it self.
+
+The following _Friday_ was the Day of Execution, and one need not tell
+of the Abundance of People, who were flocked together in the
+Market-Place: And all the Windows were taken down, and filled with
+Spectators, and the Tops of Houses; when at the Hour appointed, the
+fatal Beauty appear'd. She was dress'd in a black Velvet Gown, with a
+rich Row of Diamonds all down the fore Part of her Breast, and a great
+Knot of Diamonds at the Peak behind; and a Petticoat of flower'd Gold,
+very rich, and laced; with all Things else suitable. A�Gentleman carry'd
+her great Velvet Cushion before her, on which her Prayer-Book,
+embroider'd, was laid; her Train was borne up by a Page, and the Prince
+led her, bare; followed by his Footmen, Pages, and other Officers of his
+House.
+
+When they arrived at the Place of Execution, the Cushion was laid on the
+Ground, upon a _Portugal_ Mat, spread there for that Purpose; and the
+Princess stood on the Cushion, with her Prayer-Book in her Hand, and a
+Priest by her Side; and was accordingly tied up to the Gibbet.
+
+She had not stood there ten Minutes, but she had the Mortification
+(at�least one would think it so to her) to see her sad Page, _Van
+Brune_, approach, fair as an Angel, but languishing and pale. That Sight
+moved all the Beholders with as much Pity, as that of the Princess did
+with Disdain and Pleasure.
+
+He was dressed all in Mourning, and very fine Linen, bare-headed, with
+his own Hair, the fairest that could be seen, hanging all in Curls on
+his Back and Shoulders, very long. He had a Prayer-Book of black Velvet
+in his Hand, and behaved himself with much Penitence and Devotion.
+
+When he came under the Gibbet, he seeing his Mistress in that Condition,
+shew'd an infinite Concern, and his fair Face was cover'd over with
+Blushes; and falling at her Feet, he humbly ask'd her Pardon for having
+been the Occasion of so great an Infamy to her, by a weak Confession,
+which the Fears of Youth, and Hopes of Life, had obliged him to make, so
+greatly to her Dishonour; for indeed he wanted that manly Strength, to
+bear the Efforts of dying, as he ought, in Silence, rather than of
+commiting so great a Crime against his Duty, and Honour itself; and that
+he could not die in Peace, unless she would forgive him. The Princess
+only nodded her Head, and cried, _I�do_--
+
+And after having spoken a little to his Father-Confessor, who was with
+him, he chearfully mounted the Ladder, and in Sight of the Princess he
+was turned off, while a loud Cry was heard thro' all the Market-Place,
+especially from the Fair Sex; he hanged there till the Time the Princess
+was to depart; and then she was put into a rich embroider'd Chair, and
+carry'd away, _Tarquin_ going into his, for he had all that Time stood
+supporting the Princess under the Gallows, and was very weary. She was
+sent back, till her Releasement came, which was that Night about seven
+o'Clock; and then she was conducted to her own House in great State,
+with a Dozen White Wax Flambeaux about her Chair.
+
+If the Guardian of _Alcidiana_, and her Friends, before were impatient
+of having the Portion out of the Hands of these Extravagants, it is not
+to be imagined, but they were now much more so; and the next Day they
+sent an Officer, according to Law, to demand it, or to summon the Prince
+to give Reasons why he would not pay it. The Officer received for
+Answer, That the Money should be call'd in, and paid in such a Time,
+setting a certain Time, which I have not been so curious as to retain,
+or put in my Journal-Observations; but I am sure it was not long, as may
+be easily imagin'd, for they every Moment suspected the Prince would
+pack up, and be gone, some time or other, on the sudden; and for that
+Reason they would not trust him without Bail, or two Officers to remain
+in his House, to watch that nothing should be remov'd or touch'd. As for
+Bail, or Security, he could give none; every one slunk their Heads out
+of the Collar, when it came to that: So that he was oblig'd, at his own
+Expence, to maintain Officers in his House.
+
+The Princess finding her self reduced to the last Extremity, and that
+she must either produce the Value of a hundred thousand Crowns, or see
+the Prince her Husband lodged for ever in a Prison, and all their Glory
+vanish; and that it was impossible to fly, since guarded; she had
+Recourse to an Extremity, worse than the Affair of _Van Brune_. And in
+order to this, she first puts on a world of Sorrow and Concern, for what
+she feared might arrive to the Prince: And indeed, if ever she shed
+Tears which she did not dissemble, it was upon this Occasion. But here
+she almost over-acted: She stirred not from her Bed, and refused to eat,
+or sleep, or see the Light; so that the Day being shut out of her
+Chamber, she lived by Wax-lights, and refus'd all Comfort and
+Consolation.
+
+The Prince, all raving with Love, tender Compassion and Grief, never
+stirred from her Bed-side, nor ceas'd to implore, that she would suffer
+herself to live. But she, who was not now so passionately in Love with
+_Tarquin_, as she was with the Prince; nor so fond of the Man as his
+Titles, and of Glory; foresaw the total Ruin of the last, if not
+prevented by avoiding the Payment of this great Sum; which could not
+otherwise be, than by the Death of _Alcidiana_: And therefore, without
+ceasing, she wept, and cry'd out, 'She could not live, unless
+_Alcidiana_ died. This _Alcidiana_ (_continued she_) who has been the
+Author of my Shame; who has expos'd me under a Gibbet, in the Publick
+Market-Place--Oh!--I am deaf to all Reason, blind to natural Affection.
+I�renounce her, I�hate her as my mortal Foe, my Stop to Glory, and the
+Finisher of my Days, e'er half my Race of Life be run.'
+
+Then throwing her false, but snowy, charming Arms about the Neck her
+Heart-breaking Lord, and Lover, who lay sighing, and listening by her
+Side, he was charmed and bewitch'd into saying all Things that appeased
+her; and lastly, told her, '_Alcidiana_ should be no longer any Obstacle
+to her Repose; but that, if she would look up, and cast her Eyes of
+Sweetness and Love upon him, as heretofore; forget her Sorrow, and
+redeem her lost Health; he would take what Measures she should propose
+to dispatch this fatal Stop to her Happiness, out of the Way.'
+
+These Words failed not to make her caress him in the most endearing
+Manner that Love and Flattery could invent; and she kiss'd him to an
+Oath, a�solemn Oath, to perform what he had promised; and he vow'd
+liberally. And she assumed in an Instant her Good-Humour, and suffer'd a
+Supper to be prepared, and did eat; which in many Days before she had
+not done: So obstinate and powerful was she in dissembling well.
+
+The next Thing to be consider'd was, which Way this Deed was to be done;
+for they doubted not, but when it was done, all the World would lay it
+upon the Princess, as done by her Command: But she urged, Suspicion was
+no Proof; and that they never put to Death any one, but when they had
+great and certain Evidence who were the Offenders. She was sure of her
+own Constancy, that Racks and Tortures should never get the Secret from
+her Breast; and if he were as confident on his Part, there was no
+Danger. Yet this Preparation she made towards laying the Fact on others,
+that she caused several Letters to be wrote from _Germany_, as from the
+Relations of _Van Brune_, who threaten'd _Alcidiana_ with Death, for
+depriving their Kinsman (who was a Gentleman) of his Life, though he had
+not taken away hers. And it was the Report of the Town, how this young
+Maid was threaten'd. And indeed, the Death of the Page had so afflicted
+a great many, that _Alcidiana_ had procured her self abundance of
+Enemies upon that Account, because she might have saved him if she had
+pleased; but, on the contrary, she was a Spectator, and in full Health
+and Vigour, at his Execution: And People were not so much concerned for
+her at this Report, as they would have been.
+
+The Prince, who now had, by reasoning the Matter soberly with _Miranda_,
+found it absolutely necessary to dispatch _Alcidiana_, resolved himself,
+and with his own Hand, to execute it; not daring to trust to any of his
+most favourite Servants, though he had many, who possibly would have
+obey'd him; for they loved him as he deserved, and so would all the
+World, had he not been so purely deluded by this fair Enchantress. He
+therefore, as I said, resolved to keep this great Secret to himself; and
+taking a Pistol, charged well with two Bullets, he watch'd an
+Opportunity to shoot her as she should go out or into her House, or
+Coach, some Evening.
+
+To this End he waited several Nights near her Lodgings, but still,
+either she went not out, or when she return'd, she was so guarded with
+Friends, her Lover, and Flambeaux, that he could not aim at her without
+endangering the Life of some other. But one Night above the rest, upon a
+_Sunday_, when he knew she would be at the Theatre, for she never missed
+that Day seeing the Play, he waited at the Corner of the Stadt-House,
+near the Theatre, with his Cloak cast over his Face, and a black
+Periwig, all alone, with his Pistol ready cock'd; and remain'd not very
+long but he saw her Kinsman's Coach come along; 'twas almost dark, Day
+was just shutting up her Beauties, and left such a Light to govern the
+World, as serv'd only just to distinguish one Object from another, and a
+convenient Help to Mischief. He saw alight out of the Coach only one
+young Lady, the Lover, and then the destin'd Victim; which he (drawing
+near) knew rather by her Tongue than Shape. The Lady ran into the
+Play-House, and left _Alcidiana_ to be conducted by her Lover into it:
+Who led her to the Door, and went to give some Order to the Coachman; so
+that the Lover was about twenty Yards from _Alcidiana_; when she stood
+the fairest Mark in the World, on the Threshold of the Entrance of the
+Theatre, there being many Coaches about the Door, so that hers could not
+come so near. _Tarquin_ was resolved not to lose so fair an Opportunity,
+and advanc'd, but went behind the Coaches; and when he came over-against
+the Door, through a great booted Velvet Coach, that stood between him
+and her, he shot; and she having the Train of her Gown and Petticoat on
+her Arm, in great Quantity, he missed her Body, and shot through her
+Clothes, between her Arm and her Body. She, frighten'd to find something
+hit her, and to see the Smoke, and hear the Report of the Pistol;
+running in, cried, _I�am shot, I�am dead._
+
+This Noise quickly alarm'd her Lover; and all the Coachmen and Footmen
+immediately ran, some one Way, and some another. One of 'em seeing a Man
+haste away in a Cloak; he being a lusty, bold _German_, stopped him; and
+drawing upon him, bad him stand, and deliver his Pistol, or he would run
+him through.
+
+_Tarquin_ being surprised at the Boldness of this Fellow to demand his
+Pistol, as if he positively knew him to be the Murderer (for so he
+thought himself, since he believed _Alcidiana_ dead) had so much
+Presence of Mind as to consider, if he suffered himself to be taken, he
+should poorly die a publick Death; and therefore resolv'd upon one
+Mischief more, to secure himself from the first: And in the Moment that
+the _German_ bad him deliver his Pistol, he cried, _Though I have no
+Pistol to deliver, I�have a Sword to chastise thy Insolence_. And
+throwing off his Cloak, and flinging his Pistol from him, he drew, and
+wounded, and disarmed the Fellow.
+
+This Noise of Swords brought every body to the Place; and immediately
+the Bruit ran, _The Murderer was taken, the Murderer was taken_; Tho'
+none knew which was he, nor as yet so much as the Cause of the Quarrel
+between the two fighting Men; for it was now darker than before. But at
+the Noise of the Murderer being taken, the Lover of _Alcidiana_, who by
+this Time found his Lady unhurt, all but the Trains of her Gown and
+Petticoat, came running to the Place, just as _Tarquin_ had disarm'd the
+_German_, and was ready to kill him; when laying hold of his Arm, they
+arrested the Stroke, and redeemed the Footman.
+
+They then demanded who this Stranger was, at whose Mercy the Fellow lay;
+but the Prince, who now found himself venturing for his last Stake, made
+no Reply; but with two Swords in his Hands went to fight his Way through
+the Rabble; And tho' there were above a hundred Persons, some with
+Swords, others with long Whips, (as�Coachmen) so invincible was the
+Courage of this poor unfortunate Gentleman at that Time, that all these
+were not able to seize him; but he made his Way through the Ring that
+encompassed him, and ran away; but was, however, so closely pursued, the
+Company still gathering as they ran, that toiled with fighting,
+oppressed with Guilt, and Fear of being taken, he grew fainter and
+fainter, and suffered himself, at last, to yield to his Pursuers, who
+soon found him to be Prince _Tarquin_ in Disguise: And they carry'd him
+directly to Prison, being _Sunday_, to wait the coming Day, to go before
+a Magistrate.
+
+In an Hour's Time the whole fatal Adventure was carried all over the
+City, and every one knew that _Tarquin_ was the intended Murderer of
+_Alcidiana_; and not one but had a real Sorrow and Compassion for him.
+They heard how bravely he had defended himself, how many he had wounded
+before he could be taken, and what numbers he had fought through: And
+even those that saw his Valour and Bravery, and who had assisted at his
+being seiz'd, now repented from the Bottom of their Hearts their having
+any Hand in the Ruin of so gallant a Man; especially since they knew the
+Lady was not hurt. A�thousand Addresses were made to her, not to
+prosecute him; but her Lover, a�hot-headed Fellow, more fierce than
+brave, would by no Means be pacified, but vowed to pursue him to the
+Scaffold.
+
+The _Monday_ came, and the Prince being examined, confessed the Matter
+of Fact, since there was no Harm done; believing a generous Confession
+the best of his Game: But he was sent back to closer Imprisonment,
+loaded with Irons, to expect the next Sessions. All his Household-Goods
+were seiz'd, and all they could find, for the Use of _Alcidiana_. And
+the Princess, all in Rage, tearing her Hair, was carried to the same
+Prison, to behold the cruel Effects of her hellish Designs.
+
+One need not tell here how sad and horrid this Meeting appear'd between
+her Lord and her: Let it suffice, it was the most melancholy and
+mortifying Object that ever Eyes beheld. On _Miranda's_ Part, 'twas
+sometimes all Rage and Fire, and sometimes all Tears and Groans; but
+still 'twas sad Love, and mournful Tenderness on his. Nor could all his
+Sufferings, and the Prospect of Death itself, drive from his Soul one
+Spark of that Fire the obstinate God had fatally kindled there: And in
+the midst of all his Sighs, he would re-call himself, and cry,--_I have
++Miranda+ still._
+
+He was eternally visited by his Friends and Acquaintance; and this last
+Action of Bravery had got him more than all his former Conduct had lost.
+The Fathers were perpetually with him; and all join'd with one common
+Voice in this, That he ought to abandon a Woman so wicked as the
+Princess; and that however Fate dealt with him, he could not shew
+himself a true Penitent, while he laid the Author of so much Evil in his
+Bosom: That Heaven would never bless him, till he had renounced her: And
+on such Conditions he would find those that would employ their utmost
+Interest to save his Life, who else would not stir in this Affair. But
+he was so deaf to all, that he could not so much as dissemble a
+Repentance for having married her.
+
+He lay a long Time in Prison, and all that Time the poor Father
+_Francisco_ remained there also: And the good Fathers who daily visited
+these two amorous Prisoners, the Prince and Princess; and who found, by
+the Management of Matters, it would go very hard with _Tarquin_,
+entertained 'em often with holy Matters relating to the Life to come;
+from which, before his Trial, he gathered what his Stars had appointed,
+and that he was destin'd to die.
+
+This gave an unspeakable Torment to the now repenting Beauty, who had
+reduced him to it; and she began to appear with a more solid Grief:
+Which being perceived by the good Fathers, they resolved to attack her
+on the yielding Side; and after some Discourse upon the Judgment for
+Sin, they came to reflect on the Business of Father _Francisco_; and
+told her, she had never thriven since her accusing of that Father, and
+laid it very home to her Conscience; assuring her that they would do
+their utmost in her Service, if she would confess that secret Sin to all
+the World, so that she might atone for the Crime, by the saving that
+good Man. At first she seemed inclined to yield; but Shame of being her
+own Detector, in so vile a Matter, recalled her Goodness, and she
+faintly persisted in�it.
+
+At the End of six Months, Prince _Tarquin_ was called to his Tryal;
+where I will pass over the Circumstances, which are only what is usual
+in such criminal Cases, and tell you, that he being found guilty of the
+Intent of killing _Alcidiana_, was condemned to lose his Head in the
+Market-Place, and the Princess to be banished her Country.
+
+After Sentence pronounced, to the real Grief of all the Spectators, he
+was carry'd back to Prison, and now the Fathers attack her anew; and
+she, whose Griefs daily encreased, with a Languishment that brought her
+very near her Grave, at last confess'd all her Life, all the Lewdness of
+her Practices with several Princes and great Men, besides her Lusts with
+People that served her, and others in mean Capacity: And lastly, the
+whole Truth of the young Friar; and how she had drawn the Page, and the
+Prince her Husband, to this design'd Murder of her Sister. This she
+signed with her Hand, in the Presence of the Prince, her Husband, and
+several Holy Men who were present. Which being signify'd to the
+Magistrates, the Friar was immediately deliver'd from his Irons (where
+he had languished more than two whole Years) in great Triumph, with much
+Honour, and lives a most exemplary pious Life, as he did before; for he
+is now living in _Antwerp_.
+
+After the Condemnation of these two unfortunate Persons, who begot such
+different Sentiments in the Minds of the People (the Prince, all the
+Compassion and Pity imaginable; and the Princess, all the Contempt and
+Despite;) they languished almost six Months longer in Prison; so great
+an Interest there was made, in order to the saving his Life, by all the
+Men of the Robe. On the other side, the Princes, and great Men of all
+Nations, who were at the Court of _Brussels_, who bore a secret Revenge
+in their Hearts against a Man who had, as they pretended, set up a false
+Title, only to take Place of them; who indeed was but a Merchant's Son
+of _Holland_, as they said; so incens'd them against him, that they were
+too hard at Court for the Church-men. However, this Dispute gave the
+Prince his Life some Months longer than was expected; which gave him
+also some Hope, that a Reprieve for ninety Years would have been
+granted, as was desired. Nay, Father _Francisco_ so interested himself
+in this Concern, that he writ to his Father, and several Princes of
+_Germany_, with whom the Marquis _Castel Roderigo_ was well acquainted,
+to intercede with him for the saving of _Tarquin_; since 'twas more by
+his Persuasions, than those of all who attacked her, that made _Miranda_
+confess the Truth of her Affair with him. But at the End of six Months,
+when all Applications were found fruitless and vain, the Prince receiv'd
+News, that in two Days he was to die, as his Sentence had been before
+pronounced, and for which he prepared himself with all Chearfulness.
+
+On the following _Friday_, as soon as it was light, all People of any
+Condition came to take their Leaves of him; and none departed with dry
+Eyes, or Hearts unconcern'd to the last Degree: For _Tarquin_, when he
+found his Fate inevitable bore it with a Fortitude that shewed no Signs
+of Regret; but address'd himself to all about him with the same
+chearful, modest, and great Air, he was wont to do in his most
+flourishing Fortune. His Valet was dressing him all the Morning, so many
+Interruptions they had by Visitors; and he was all in Mourning, and so
+were all his Followers; for even to the last he kept up his Grandeur, to
+the Amazement of all People. And indeed, he was so passionately belov'd
+by them, that those he had dismiss'd, serv'd him voluntarily, and would
+not be persuaded to abandon him while he liv'd.
+
+The Princess was also dress'd in Mourning, and her two Women; and
+notwithstanding the unheard-of Lewdness and Villanies she had confess'd
+of her self, the Prince still ador'd her; for she had still those Charms
+that made him first do so; nor, to his last Moment, could he be brought
+to wish, that he had never seen her; but on the contrary, as a Man yet
+vainly proud of his Fetters, he said, 'All the Satisfaction this short
+Moment of Life could afford him, was, that he died in endeavouring to
+serve _Miranda_, his adorable Princess.'
+
+After he had taken Leave of all, who thought it necessary to leave him
+to himself for some Time, he retir'd with his Confessor; where they were
+about an Hour in Prayer, all the Ceremonies of Devotion that were fit to
+be done, being already past. At last the Bell toll'd, and he was to take
+Leave of the Princess, as his last Work of Life, and the most hard he
+had to accomplish. He threw himself at her Feet, and gazing on her as
+she sat more dead than alive, overwhelm'd with silent Grief, they both
+remain'd some Moments speechless; and then, as if one rising Tide of
+Tears had supply'd both their Eyes, it burst out in Streams at the same
+Instant: and when his Sighs gave Way, he utter'd a thousand Farewels, so
+soft, so passionate, and moving, that all who were by were extremely
+touch'd with it, and said, _That nothing could be seen more deplorable
+and melancholy_. A thousand Times they bad Farewel, and still some
+tender Look, or Word, would prevent his going; then embrace, and bid
+Farewel again. A�thousand Times she ask'd his Pardon for being the
+Occasion of that fatal Separation; a�thousand Times assuring him, she
+would follow him, for she could not live without him. And Heaven knows
+when their soft and sad Caresses would have ended, had not the Officers
+assur'd him 'twas Time to mount the Scaffold. At which Words the
+Princess fell fainting in the Arms of her Woman, and they led _Tarquin_
+out of Prison.
+
+When he came to the Market-Place, whither he walked on Foot, follow'd by
+his own Domesticks, and some bearing a black Velvet Coffin with Silver
+Hinges; the Head's-man before him with his fatal Scimiter drawn, his
+Confessor by his Side, and many Gentlemen and Church-men, with Father
+_Francisco_ attending him, the People showring Millions of Blessings on
+him, and beholding him with weeping Eyes, he mounted the Scaffold; which
+was strewed with some Saw-dust, about the Place where he was to kneel,
+to receive the Blood: For they behead People kneeling, and with the
+Back-Stroak of a Scimiter; and not lying on a Block, and with an Axe, as
+we in _England_. The Scaffold had a low Rail about it, that every body
+might more conveniently see. This was hung with black, and all that
+State that such a Death could have, was here in most decent Order.
+
+He did not say much upon the Scaffold: The Sum of what he said to his
+Friends was, to be kind, and take Care of the poor Penitent his Wife: To
+others, recommending his honest and generous Servants, whose Fidelity
+was so well known and commended, that they were soon promised
+Preferment. He was some time in Prayer, and a very short time in
+speaking to his Confessor; then he turned to the Head's-man, and desired
+him to do his Office well, and gave him twenty _Louis d'Ors_; and
+undressing himself with the Help of his Valet and Page, he pull'd off
+his Coat, and had underneath a white Sattin Waistcoat: He took off his
+Periwig, and put on a white Sattin Cap, with a Holland one done with
+Point under it, which he pulled over his Eyes; then took a chearful
+Leave of all, and kneel'd down, and said, 'When he lifted up his Hands
+the third Time, the Head's-man should do his Office.' Which accordingly
+was done, and the Head's-man gave him his last Stroke, and the Prince
+fell on the Scaffold. The People with one common Voice, as if it had
+been but one entire one, pray'd for his Soul; and Murmurs of Sighs were
+heard from the whole Multitude, who scrambled for some of the bloody
+Saw-dust, to keep for his Memory.
+
+The Head's-man going to take up the Head, as the Manner is, to shew it
+to the People, he found he had not struck it off, and that the Body
+stirr'd; with that he stepped to an Engine, which they always carry with
+'em, to force those who may be refractory; thinking, as he said, to have
+twisted the Head from the Shoulders, conceiving it to hang but by a
+small Matter of Flesh. Tho' 'twas an odd Shift of the Fellow's, yet
+'twas done, and the best Shift he could suddenly propose. The Margrave,
+and another Officer, old Men, were on the Scaffold, with some of the
+Prince's Friends, and Servants; who seeing the Head's-man put the Engine
+about the Neck of the Prince, began to call out, and the People made a
+great Noise. The Prince, who found himself yet alive; or rather, who was
+past thinking but had some Sense of Feeling left, when the Head's-man
+took him up, and set his Back against the Rail, and clapp'd the Engine
+about his Neck, got his two Thumbs between the Rope and his Neck,
+feeling himself press'd there; and struggling between Life and Death,
+and bending himself over the Rail backward, while the Head's-man pulled
+forward, he threw himself quite over the Rail, by Chance, and not
+Design, and fell upon the Heads and Shoulders of the People, who were
+crying out with amazing Shouts of Joy. The Head's-man leap'd after him,
+but the Rabble had lik'd to have pull'd him to Pieces: All the City was
+in an Uproar, but none knew what the Matter was, but those who bore the
+Body of the Prince, whom they found yet living; but how, or by what
+strange Miracle preserv'd, they knew not, nor did examine; but with one
+Accord, as if the whole Crowd had been one Body, and had had but one
+Motion, they bore the Prince on their Heads about a hundred Yards from
+the Scaffold, where there is a Monastery of Jesuits; and there they
+secur'd him. All this was done, his beheading, his falling, and his
+being secur'd, almost in a Moment's Time; the People rejoiceing, as at
+some extraordinary Victory won. One of the Officers being, as I said, an
+old timorous Man, was so frighten'd at the Accident, the Bustle, the
+Noise, and the Confusion, of which he was wholly ignorant, that he dy'd
+with Amazement and Fear; and the other was fain to be let blood.
+
+The Officers of Justice went to demand the Prisoner, but they demanded
+in vain; the Jesuits had now a Right to protect him, and would do so.
+All his overjoy'd Friends went to see in what Condition he was, and all
+of Quality found Admittance: They saw him in Bed, going to be dress'd by
+the most skilful Surgeons, who yet could not assure him of Life. They
+desired no body should speak to him, or ask him any Questions. They
+found that the Head's-man had struck him too low, and had cut him into
+the Shoulder-bone. A�very great Wound, you may be sure; for the Sword,
+in such Executions, carries an extreme Force: However, so great Care was
+taken on all Sides, and so greatly the Fathers were concern'd for him,
+that they found an Amendment, and Hopes of a good Effect of their
+incomparable Charity and Goodness.
+
+At last, when he was permitted to speak, the first News he ask'd was
+after the Princess. And his Friends were very much afflicted to find,
+that all his Loss of Blood had not quenched that Flame, not let out that
+which made him still love that bad Woman. He was sollicited daily to
+think no more of her: And all her Crimes are laid so open to him, and so
+shamefully represented; and on the other Side, his Virtues so admir'd;
+and which, they said, would have been eternally celebrated, but for his
+Folly with this infamous Creature; that at last, by assuring him of all
+their Assistance if he abandon'd her; and to renounce him, and deliver
+him up, if he did not; they wrought so far upon him, as to promise, he
+would suffer her to go alone into Banishment, and would not follow her,
+or live with her any more. But alas! this was but his Gratitude that
+compell'd this Complaisance, for in his Heart he resolv'd never to
+abandon her; nor was he able to live, and think of doing it: However,
+his Reason assur'd him, he could not do a Deed more justifiable, and one
+that would regain his Fame sooner.
+
+His Friends ask'd him some Questions concerning his Escape; and since he
+was not beheaded, but only wounded, why he did not immediately rise up?
+But he replied, he was so absolutely prepossessed, that at the third
+lifting up his Hands he should receive the Stroke of Death, that at the
+same Instant the Sword touch'd him, he had no Sense; nay, not even of
+Pain, so absolutely dead he was with Imagination; and knew not that he
+stirr'd, as the Head's-man found he did; nor did he remember any Thing,
+from the lifting up of his Hands, to his fall; and then awaken'd, as out
+of a Dream, or rather a Moment's Sleep without Dream, he found he liv'd,
+and wonder'd what was arriv'd to him, or how he came to live; having
+not, as yet, any Sense of his Wound, tho' so terrible an one.
+
+After this, _Alcidiana_, who was extremely afflicted for having been the
+Prosecutor of this great Man; who, bating this last Design against her,
+which she knew was at the Instigation of her Sister, had oblig'd her
+with all the Civility imaginable; now sought all Means possible of
+getting his Pardon, and that of her Sister; tho' of an hundred thousand
+Crowns, which she should have paid her, she could get but ten thousand;
+which was from the Sale of her rich Beds, and some other Furniture. So
+that the young Count, who before should have marry'd her, now went off
+for want of Fortune; and a young Merchant (perhaps the best of the two)
+was the Man to whom she was destin'd.
+
+At last, by great Intercession, both their Pardons were obtain'd; and
+the Prince, who would be no more seen in a Place that had prov'd every
+way so fatal to him, left _Flanders_, promising never to live with the
+Fair Hypocrite more; but e'er he departed, he wrote her a Letter,
+wherein he order'd her, in a little Time, to follow him into _Holland_;
+and left a Bill of Exchange with one of his trusty Servants, whom he had
+left to wait upon her, for Money for her Accommodation; so that she was
+now reduced to one Woman, one Page, and this Gentleman. The Prince, in
+this Time of his Imprisonment, had several Bills of great Sums from his
+Father, who was exceeding rich, and this all the Children he had in the
+World, and whom he tenderly loved.
+
+As soon as _Miranda_ was come into _Holland_, she was welcom'd with all
+imaginable Respect and Endearment by the old Father; who was impos'd
+upon so, as that he knew not she was the fatal Occasion of all these
+Disasters to his Son; but rather look'd on her as a Woman, who had
+brought him an hundred and fifty thousand Crowns, which his Misfortunes
+had consum'd. But, above all, she was receiv'd by _Tarquin_ with a Joy
+unspeakable; who, after some Time, to redeem his Credit, and gain
+himself a new Fame, put himself into the _French_ Army, where he did
+Wonders; and after three Campaigns, his Father dying, he return'd home,
+and retir'd to a Country-House; where, with his Princess, he liv'd as a
+private Gentleman, in all the Tranquillity of a Man of good Fortune.
+They say _Miranda_ has been very penitent for her Life past, and gives
+Heaven the Glory for having given her these Afflictions that have
+reclaim'd her, and brought her to as perfect a State of Happiness, as
+this troublesome World, can afford.
+
+Since I began this Relation, I heard that Prince _Tarquin_, dy'd about
+three Quarters of a Year ago.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Fair Jilt.
+
+
+p. 70 _To Henry Pain, Esq._ Henry Neville Payne, politician and author,
+was a thorough Tory and an ardent partisan of James II. Downes ascribes
+to him three plays: _The Fatal Jealousy_, produced at Dorset Garden in
+the winter of 1672, a�good, if somewhat vehement, tragedy (4to, 1673);
+_Morning Ramble; or, Town Humours_, produced at the same theatre in 1673
+(4to, 1673), which, though lacking in plot and quick incident, is far
+from a bad comedy; and _The Siege of Constantinople_, acted by the
+Duke's company in 1674 (4to, 1675), a�tragedy which very sharply lashes
+Shaftesbury as the Chancellor, especially in Act II, when Lorenzo, upon
+his patron designing a frolic, says:--
+
+  My Lord, you know your old house, Mother Somelie's,
+  You know she always fits you with fresh girls.
+
+Mother Somelie is, of course, the notorious Mother Mosely.
+
+Henry Payne wrote several loyal pamphlets, and after the Revolution he
+became, according to Burnet, 'the most active and determined of all King
+James' agents.' He is said to have been the chief instigator of the
+Montgomery plot in 1690, and whilst in Scotland was arrested. 10 and 11
+December of that year he was severely tortured under a special order of
+William III, but nothing could be extracted from him. This is the last
+occasion on which torture was applied in Scotland. After being treated
+with harshest cruelty by William III, Payne was finally released from
+prison in December, 1700, or January, 1701, as the Duke of Queensbury,
+recognizing the serious illegalities of the whole business, urgently
+advised his liberation. Payne died in 1710. As Macaulay consistently
+confounds him with a certain Edward Neville, S.J., the statements of
+this historian with reference to Henry Neville Payne must be entirely
+disregarded.
+
+p. 72 _The Fair Jilt._ Editio princeps, 'London. Printed by _R. Holt_
+for _Will. Canning_, at his Shop in the _Temple-Cloysters_' (1688),
+'Licensed 17 April, 1688. _Ric. Pocock_', has as title: _The Fair Jilt;
+or, The History of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. As half-title it prints:
+_The Fair Hypocrite; or, The Amours of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. All
+subsequent editions, however, give: _The Fair Jilt; or, The Amours of
+Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. The Dedication only occurs in the first
+edition.
+
+p. 73 _Scrutore._ Escritoire, cf. Sir T. Herbert, _Trav._ (1677): 'There
+they sell .�.�. Scrutores or Cabinets of Mother of Pearl.'
+
+p. 75 _Canonesses, Begines, Quests, Swart-Sisters and Jesuitesses._
+_Canonesses_ are very ancient in history. The most important
+Congregations are the Sepulchrines or Canonesses of the Holy Sepulchre,
+and the Lateran Canonesses. There was an old community of French
+Hospitaller Canonesses of Saint-Esprit. Thomassin tells us that the
+B�guines were canonesses, and that their name is derived from S.�Begghe
+(_ob._ 689), who founded the Canonesses of Andenne. There are also
+Chapters of secular canonesses, nearly all Benedictine in origin. Many
+of these only admitted ladies of the highest rank. The French Revolution
+swept away a great number of these institutions, and some were
+suppressed by Joseph II of Austria. Premonstratensian (white) Canonesses
+were common in Belgium.
+
+_Begines._ Either founded by S. Begghe, or their name is derived from
+Lambert de B�gue, a�priest of Li�ge, in 1177. Some place their
+foundation at the beginning of the eleventh century in the Netherlands
+or Germany. After three years women who are enrolled are entitled to a
+little house. No vows are taken, but they assist in choir thrice daily.
+There are several hundreds at Ghent, and the B�guinage (ten Wijngaarde)
+of Bruges is famous.
+
+_Quests._ Qu�teuses. Extern Sisters, Poor Clares and Colettines; Lay
+Sisters, Dominicanesses, who go out and beg for the community. 'To
+quest' is to go alms-begging. The Sisters of Charity are of later
+foundation. cf. Translation, D'Emilliane's _Frauds of Romish Monks_
+(1691): 'The Farmer [of Purgatory Money] sends some of his Emissaries
+into the Fields to carry on the Quest there for the said Souls'; and
+_Earthquake .�.�. Peru_, iii, 303 (1748): 'If the Friars go into the
+Country a questing for their Monastery.'
+
+_Swart-Sisters._ Black Nuns. Dominicanesses, a feature of whose dresses
+is the cappa, a�large black cloak and hood, worn from All Saints' Day
+till the 'Gloria' on Easter Eve, and on all great solemnities.
+
+_Jesuitesses._ A common misnomer for the original Congregation founded
+by Mary Ward (_ob._ 1645), and named by her 'The Institute of Mary'. It
+was not until 1703 that they were fully approved by Clement�XI.
+
+p. 78 _Cordeliers._ Observant Franciscans, who follow the strict Rule of
+Poverty and observe all the fasts and austerities of the Order. This
+name was first given them in France, where later they were known as
+Recollects.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+OROONOKO; OR THE ROYAL SLAVE.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+The tale of _Oroonoko, the Royal Slave_ is indisputedly Mrs. Behn's
+masterpiece in prose. Its originality and power have singled it out for
+a permanence and popularity none of her other works attained. It is
+vivid, realistic, pregnant with pathos, beauty, and truth, and not only
+has it so impressed itself upon the readers of more than two centuries,
+but further, it surely struck a new note in English literature and one
+which was re-echoed far and wide. It has been said that '_Oroonoko_ is
+the first emancipation novel', and there is no little acumen in this
+remark. Certainly we may absolve Mrs. Behn from having directly written
+with a purpose such as animated Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's _Uncle
+Tom's Cabin_; but none the less her sympathy with the oppressed blacks,
+her deep emotions of pity for outraged humanity, her anger at the
+cruelties of the slave-driver aye ready with knout or knife, are
+manifest in every line. Beyond the intense interest of the pure
+narrative we have passages of a rhythm that is lyric, exquisitely
+descriptive of the picturesque tropical scenery and exotic vegetations,
+fragrant and luxuriant; there are intimate accounts of adventuring and
+primitive life; there are personal touches which lend a colour only
+personal touches can, as Aphara tells her prose-epic of her Superman,
+C�sar the slave, Oroonoko the prince.
+
+It is not difficult to trace the influence of _Oroonoko_. We can
+see it in many an English author; in Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, in
+Chateaubriand. Her idyllic romance has inspired writers who perhaps but
+dimly remember even her name and her genius.
+
+It was often reprinted separately from the rest. There is a little 12mo
+_Oroonoko_, 'the ninth edition corrected', published at Doncaster, 1759,
+'for C.�Plummer', which is rarely seen save in a torn and well-thumbed
+state.[1]
+
+In 1777 the sentimental and highly proper Mrs. Elizabeth Griffith
+included _Oroonoko_ in her three volume _Collection of Novels selected
+and revised._ _Oroonoko_, 'written originally by Mrs. Behn and revised
+by Mrs. Griffith'[2], was also issued separately, 'price sixpence'[3],
+in 1800, frontispieced by a very crude picture of a black-a-moor about
+to attack a tiger.
+
+As early as 1709 we find _Lebens und Liebes-Geschichte des K�niglichen
+Sclaven Oroonoko in West-Indien_, a German translation published at
+Hamburg, with a portrait of 'Die Sinnreiche Engell�nderin Mrs. Afra
+Behn.'
+
+In 1745 _Oroonoko_ was 'traduit de l'Anglois de Madame Behn,' with the
+motto from Lucan 'Quo fata trahunt virtus secura sequetur.' There is a
+rhymed dedication 'A�Madame La M. P. D'l .�.�.' (35�lines), signed
+D.�L.****, i.e., Pierre-Antoine de la Place, a�fecund but mediocre
+writer of the eighteenth century (1707-93), who also translated, _Venice
+Preserv'd_, _The Fatal Marriage_, _Tom Jones_, and other English
+masterpieces. There�is another edition of de la Place's version with
+fine plates engraved by C.�Baron after Marillier, Londres, 1769.
+
+In 1696 Southerne's great tragedy, founded upon Mrs. Behn's novel, was
+produced at Drury Lane. Oroonoko was created by Verbruggen, Powell acted
+Aboan, and the beautiful Mrs. Rogers Imoinda. The play has some
+magnificent passages, and long kept the stage. Southerne had further
+added an excellent comic underplot, full of humour and the truest _vis
+comica_. It is perhaps worth noting that the intrigues of Lucy and
+Charlotte and the Lackitt _m�nage_ were dished up as a short slap-bang
+farce by themselves with, curiously enough, two or three scenes _in
+extenso_ from Fletcher's _Monsieur Thomas_ (III, iii, and V,�ii). This
+hotch potch entitled _The Sexes Mis-match'd; or, A�New Way to get a
+Husband_ is printed in _The Strollers' Pacquet open'd_. (12mo, 1741.) On
+1 December, 1759, there was brought out at Drury Lane a most insipid
+alteration of _Oroonoko_ by Dr. Hawkesworth, who omitted all Southerne's
+lighter fare and inserted serious nonsense of his own. Garrick was the
+Oroonoko and Mrs. Cibber Imoinda. Although Hawkesworth's version was not
+tolerated, the underplot was none the less pruned in later productions
+to such an extent that it perforce lost nearly all its pristine wit and
+fun. There is another adaption of Southerne: '_Oroonoko_ altered from
+the original play .�.�. to which the editor has added near six hundred
+lines in place of the comic scenes, together with an addition of two new
+characters, intended for one of the theatres.' (8vo, 1760.) The two new
+characters are Maria, sister to the Lieutenant-Governor and contracted
+to Blandford, and one Heartwell; both thoroughly tiresome individuals.
+In the same year Frank Gentleman, a�provincial actor, produced his idea
+of _Oroonoko_ 'as it was acted at Edinburgh.' (12mo, 1760.) There is yet
+a fourth bastard: _The Prince of Angola_, by one J.�Ferriar, 'a�tragedy
+altered from the play of _Oroonoko_ and adapted to the circumstances of
+the present times.'[4] (Manchester, 1788.) It must be confessed that all
+this tinkering with an original, which does not require from any point
+of view the slightest alteration or omission, is most uncalled for,
+crude, and unsuccessful.
+
+In 1698 William Walker, a lad nineteen years old, the son of a wealthy
+Barbadoes planter, wrote in three weeks a tragedy entitled _Victorious
+Love_ (4to, 1698), which is confessedly a close imitation of Southerne's
+theme. It was produced at Drury Lane in June, 1698, with the author
+himself as Dafila, a�youth, and young Mrs. Cross as the heroine Zaraida,
+'an European Shipwrack'd an Infant at Gualata'. Possibly Verbruggen
+acted Barnagasso, the captive king who corresponds to Oroonoko. The
+scene is laid in the Banze, or Palace of Tombut, whose Emperor, Jamoan,
+is Barnagasso's rival in Zaraida's love. There is a villain, Zanhaga,
+who after various more or less successful iniquities, poisons the
+Emperor; whereon hero and heroine are happily united. _Victorious Love_
+is far from being entirely a bad play; it is, however, very reminiscent
+of the heroic tragedies of two decades before.
+
+Southerne's _Oroonoko_ was (with some alterations) translated into
+German. This version is prose and probably either the work of W.�H. von
+Dalberg or von Eisenthal. It has little merit, but proved popular and
+was printed in 1789 with a somewhat grotesque frontispiece of Oroonoko
+and Imoinda, both of whom are black 'as pitch or as the cole'.
+
+    [Footnote 1: There were also many chap-books on similar themes
+    which enjoyed no small popularity, e.g., _The Royal African; or,
+    The Memoirs of the Young Prince of Annamaboe_ (circa 1750), the
+    romantic narrative of a negro prince, who became a slave in
+    Barbadoes, from whence he was redeemed and brought to England.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: Mis-spelt 'Griffiths' in the 1800 edition.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: There was 'a superior edition on a fine wove paper,
+    Hot-pressed, with Proof Impressions of the Plates. Price only
+    Nine-pence.']
+
+    [Footnote 4: The Agitation for the Abolition of the Slave Trade.]
+
+
+
+
+  Epistle Dedicatory.
+
+  TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD MAITLAND.
+
+  [Transcriber's Note:
+  The Epistle Dedicatory was printed as an Appendix; see Note.]
+
+
+  My Lord,
+
+Since the World is grown so Nice and Critical upon Dedications, and will
+Needs be Judging the Book by the Wit of the Patron; we ought, with a
+great deal of Circumspection to chuse a Person against whom there can be
+no Exception; and whose Wit and Worth truly Merits all that one is
+capable of saying upon that Occasion.
+
+The most part of Dedications are charg'd with Flattery; and if the World
+knows a Man has some Vices, they will not allow one to speak of his
+Virtues. This, My Lord, is for want of thinking Rightly; if Men wou'd
+consider with Reason, they wou'd have another sort of Opinion, and
+Esteem of Dedications; and wou'd believe almost every Great Man has
+enough to make him Worthy of all that can be said of him there. My Lord,
+a�Picture-drawer, when he intends to make a good Picture, essays the
+Face many Ways, and in many Lights, before he begins; that he may chuse
+from the several turns of it, which is most Agreeable and gives it the
+best Grace; and if there be a Scar, an ungrateful Mole, or any little
+Defect, they leave it out; and yet make the Picture extreamly like: But
+he who has the good Fortune to draw a Face that is exactly Charming in
+all its Parts and Features, what Colours or Agreements can be added to
+make it Finer? All that he can give is but its due; and Glories in a
+Piece whose Original alone gives it its Perfection. An ill Hand may
+diminish, but a good Hand cannot augment its Beauty. A�Poet is a Painter
+in his way; he draws to the Life, but in another kind; we draw the
+Nobler part, the Soul and Mind; the Pictures of the Pen shall out-last
+those of the Pencil, and even Worlds themselves. 'Tis a short Chronicle
+of those Lives that possibly wou'd be forgotten by other Historians, or
+lye neglected there, however deserving an immortal Fame; for Men of
+eminent Parts are as Exemplary as even Monarchs themselves; and Virtue
+is a noble Lesson to be learn'd, and 'tis by Comparison we can Judge and
+Chuse. 'Tis by such illustrious Presidents as your Lordship the World
+can be Better'd and Refin'd; when a great part of the lazy Nobility
+shall, with Shame, behold the admirable Accomplishments of a Man so
+Great, and so Young.
+
+Your Lordship has Read innumerable Volumes of Men and Books, not Vainly
+for the gust of Novelty, but Knowledge, excellent Knowledge: Like the
+industrious Bee, from every Flower you return Laden with the precious
+Dew, which you are sure to turn to the Publick Good. You hoard no one
+Reflection, but lay it all out in the Glorious Service of your Religion
+and Country; to both which you are a useful and necessary Honour: They
+both want such Supporters; and 'tis only Men of so elevated Parts, and
+fine Knowledge; such noble Principles of Loyalty and Religion this
+Nation Sighs for. Where shall we find a Man so Young, like St.
+Augustine, in the midst of all his Youth and Gaiety, Teaching the World
+Divine Precepts, true Notions of Faith, and Excellent Morality, and, at
+the same time be also a perfect Pattern of all that accomplish a Great
+Man? You have, My Lord, all that refin'd Wit that Charms, and the
+Affability that Obliges; a�Generosity that gives a Lustre to your
+Nobility; that Hospitality, and Greatness of Mind that ingages the
+World; and that admirable Conduct, that so well Instructs it. Our Nation
+ought to regret and bemoan their Misfortunes, for not being able to
+claim the Honour of the Birth of a Man who is so fit to serve his
+Majesty, and his Kingdoms in all Great and Publick Affairs; And to the
+Glory of your Nation, be it spoken, it produces more considerable Men,
+for all fine Sence, Wit, Wisdom, Breeding and Generosity (for the
+generality of the Nobility) than all other Nations can Boast; and the
+Fruitfulness of your Virtues sufficiently make amends for the Barrenness
+of your Soil: Which however cannot be incommode to your Lordship; since
+your Quality and the Veneration that the Commonalty naturally pay their
+Lords creates a flowing Plenty there .�.�. that makes you Happy. And to
+compleat your Happiness, my Lord, Heaven has blest you with a Lady, to
+whom it has given all the Graces, Beauties, and Virtues of her Sex; all
+the Youth, Sweetness of Nature, of a most illustrious Family; and who is
+a most rare Example to all Wives of Quality, for her eminent Piety,
+Easiness, and Condescention; and as absolutely merits Respect from all
+the World as she does that Passion and Resignation she receives from
+your Lordship; and which is, on her part, with so much Tenderness
+return'd. Methinks your tranquil Lives are an Image of the new Made and
+Beautiful Pair in Paradise: And 'tis the Prayers and Wishes of all, who
+have the Honour to know you, that it may Eternally so continue with
+Additions of all the Blessings this World can give you.
+
+My Lord, the Obligations I have to some of the Great Men of your Nation,
+particularly to your Lordship, gives me an Ambition of making my
+Acknowledgements by all the Opportunities I can; and such humble Fruits
+as my Industry produces I lay at your Lordship's Feet. This is a true
+Story, of a Man Gallant enough to merit your Protection, and, had he
+always been so Fortunate, he had not made so Inglorious an end: The
+Royal Slave I had the Honour to know in my Travels to the other World;
+and though I had none above me in that Country yet I wanted power to
+preserve this Great Man. If there be anything that seems Romantick I
+beseech your Lordship to consider these Countries do, in all things, so
+far differ from ours that they produce unconceivable Wonders, at least,
+so they appear to us, because New and Strange. What I have mentioned I
+have taken care shou'd be Truth, let the Critical Reader judge as he
+pleases. 'Twill be no Commendation to the Book to assure your Lordship I
+writ it in a few Hours, though it may serve to Excuse some of its Faults
+of Connexion, for I never rested my Pen a Moment for Thought: 'Tis
+purely the Merit of my Slave that must render it worthy of the Honour it
+begs; and the Author of that of Subscribing herself,
+
+  My Lord
+    Your Lordship's most oblig'd
+      and obedient Servant
+        A. Behn.
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE _ROYAL SLAVE_.
+
+
+I do not pretend, in giving you the History of this _ROYAL SLAVE_, to
+entertain my Reader with the Adventures of a feign'd _Hero_, whose Life
+and Fortunes Fancy may manage at the Poet's Pleasure; nor in relating
+the Truth, design to adorn it with any Accidents, but such as arrived in
+earnest to him: And it shall come simply into the World, recommended by
+its own proper Merits, and natural Intrigues; there being enough of
+Reality to support it, and to render it diverting, without the Addition
+of Invention.
+
+I was myself an Eye-witness to a great Part of what you will find here
+set down; and what I could not be Witness of, I�receiv'd from the Mouth
+of the chief Actor in this History, the _Hero_ himself, who gave us the
+whole Transactions of his Youth: And I shall omit, for Brevity's Sake,
+a�thousand little Accidents of his Life, which, however pleasant to us,
+where History was scarce, and Adventures very rare, yet might prove
+tedious and heavy to my Reader, in a World where he finds Diversions for
+every Minute, new and strange. But we who were perfectly charm'd with
+the Character of this great Man, were curious to gather every
+Circumstance of his Life.
+
+The Scene of the last Part of his Adventures lies in a Colony in
+_America_, called _Surinam_, in the _West-Indies_.
+
+But before I give you the Story of this _Gallant Slave_, 'tis fit I tell
+you the Manner of bringing them to these new _Colonies_; those they make
+Use of there, not being _Natives_ of the Place: for those we live with
+in perfect Amity, without daring to command 'em; but, on the contrary,
+caress 'em with all the brotherly and friendly Affection in the World;
+trading with them for their Fish, Venison, Buffaloes Skins, and little
+Rarities; as _Marmosets_, a sort of Monkey, as big as a Rat or Weasel,
+but of a marvellous and delicate Shape, having Face and Hands like a
+Human Creature; and _Cousheries_, a little Beast in the Form and Fashion
+of a Lion, as big as a Kitten, but so exactly made in all Parts like
+that Noble Beast, that it is it in _Miniature_: Then for little
+_Paraketoes_, great _Parrots_, _Muckaws_, and a thousand other Birds and
+Beasts of wonderful and surprizing Forms, Shapes, and Colours: For Skins
+of prodigious Snakes, of which there are some three-score Yards in
+Length; as is the Skin of one that may be seen at his Majesty's
+_Antiquary's_; where are also some rare Flies, of amazing Forms and
+Colours, presented to 'em by myself; some as big as my Fist, some less;
+and all of various Excellencies, such as Art cannot imitate. Then we
+trade for Feathers, which they order into all Shapes, make themselves
+little short Habits of 'em, and glorious Wreaths for their Heads, Necks,
+Arms and Legs, whose Tinctures are unconceivable. I�had a Set of these
+presented to me, and I gave 'em to the _King's Theatre_; it was the
+Dress of the _Indian Queen_, infinitely admir'd by Persons of Quality;
+and was inimitable. Besides these, a�thousand little Knacks, and
+Rarities in Nature; and some of Art, as their Baskets, Weapons, Aprons,
+&c. We dealt with 'em with Beads of all Colours, Knives, Axes, Pins and
+Needles, which they us'd only as Tools to drill Holes with in their
+Ears, Noses and Lips, where they hang a great many little Things; as
+long Beads, Bits of Tin, Brass or Silver beat thin, and any shining
+Trinket. The Beads they weave into Aprons about a Quarter of an Ell
+long, and of the same Breadth; working them very prettily in Flowers of
+several Colours; which Apron they wear just before 'em, as _Adam_ and
+_Eve_ did the Fig-leaves; the Men wearing a long Stripe of Linen, which
+they deal with us for. They thread these Beads also on long
+Cotton-threads, and make Girdles to tie their Aprons to, which come
+twenty times, or more, about the Waste, and then cross, like a
+Shoulder-belt, both Ways, and round their Necks, Arms and Legs. This
+Adornment, with their long black Hair, and the Face painted in little
+Specks or Flowers here and there, makes 'em a wonderful Figure to
+behold. Some of the Beauties, which indeed are finely shap'd, as almost
+all are, and who have pretty Features, are charming and novel; for they
+have all that is called Beauty, except the Colour, which is a reddish
+Yellow; or after a new Oiling, which they often use to themselves, they
+are of the Colour of a new Brick, but smooth, soft and sleek. They are
+extreme modest and bashful, very shy, and nice of being touch'd. And
+tho' they are all thus naked, if one lives for ever among 'em, there is
+not to be seen an indecent Action, or Glance: and being continually us'd
+to see one another so unadorn'd, so like our first Parents before the
+Fall, it seems as if they had no Wishes, there being nothing to heighten
+Curiosity: but all you can see, you see at once, and every Moment see;
+and where there is no Novelty, there can be no Curiosity. Not but I have
+seen a handsome young _Indian_, dying for Love of a very beautiful young
+_Indian_ Maid; but all his Courtship was, to fold his Arms, pursue her
+with his Eyes, and Sighs were all his Language: While she, as if no such
+Lover were present, or rather as if she desired none such, carefully
+guarded her Eyes from beholding him; and never approach'd him, but she
+looked down with all the blushing Modesty I have seen in the most Severe
+and Cautious of our World. And these People represented to me an
+absolute _Idea_ of the first State of Innocence, before Man knew how to
+sin: And 'tis most evident and plain, that simple Nature is the most
+harmless, inoffensive and virtuous Mistress. 'Tis she alone, if she were
+permitted, that better instructs the World, than all the Inventions of
+Man: Religion would here but destroy that Tranquillity they possess by
+Ignorance; and Laws would but teach 'em to know Offences, of which now
+they have no Notion. They once made Mourning and Fasting for the Death
+of the _English_ Governor, who had given his Hand to come on such a Day
+to 'em, and neither came nor sent; believing, when a Man's Word was
+past, nothing but Death could or should prevent his keeping it: And when
+they saw he was not dead, they ask'd him what Name they had for a Man
+who promis'd a Thing he did not do? The Governor told them, Such a Man
+was a _Lyar_, which was a Word of Infamy to a Gentleman. Then one of 'em
+reply'd, _Governor, you are a Lyar, and guilty of that Infamy_. They
+have a native Justice, which knows no Fraud; and they understand no
+Vice, or Cunning, but when they are taught by the _White_ Men. They have
+Plurality of Wives; which, when they grow old, serve those that succeed
+'em, who are young, but with a Servitude easy and respected; and unless
+they take Slaves in War, they have no other Attendants.
+
+Those on that _Continent_ where I was, had no King; but the oldest
+War-Captain was obey'd with great Resignation.
+
+A War-Captain is a Man who has led them on to Battle with Conduct and
+Success; of whom I shall have Occasion to speak more hereafter, and of
+some other of their Customs and Manners, as they fall in my Way.
+
+With these People, as I said, we live in perfect Tranquillity, and good
+Understanding, as it behoves us to do; they knowing all the Places where
+to seek the best Food of the Country, and the Means of getting it; and
+for very small and unvaluable Trifles, supplying us with what 'tis
+almost impossible for us to get; for they do not only in the Woods, and
+over the _Sevana's_, in Hunting, supply the Parts of Hounds, by swiftly
+scouring thro' those almost impassable Places, and by the mere Activity
+of their Feet, run down the nimblest Deer, and other eatable Beasts; but
+in the Water, one would think they were Gods of the Rivers, or
+Fellow-Citizens of the Deep; so rare an Art they have in swimming,
+diving, and almost living in Water; by which they command the less swift
+Inhabitants of the Floods. And then for shooting, what they cannot take,
+or reach with their Hands, they do with Arrows; and have so admirable an
+Aim, that they will split almost an Hair, and at any Distance that an
+Arrow can reach: they will shoot down Oranges, and other Fruit, and only
+touch the Stalk with the Dart's Point, that they may not hurt the Fruit.
+So that they being on all Occasions very useful to us, we find it
+absolutely necessary to caress 'em as Friends, and not to treat 'em as
+Slaves; nor dare we do otherwise, their Numbers so far surpassing ours
+in that Continent.
+
+Those then whom we make use of to work in our Plantations of Sugar, are
+_Negroes_, Black-Slaves altogether, who are transported thither in this
+Manner.
+
+Those who want Slaves, make a Bargain with a Master, or a Captain of a
+Ship, and contract to pay him so much apiece, a�Matter of twenty Pound a
+Head, for as many as he agrees for, and to pay for 'em when they shall
+be deliver'd on such a Plantation: So that when there arrives a Ship
+laden with Slaves, they who have so contracted, go aboard, and receive
+their Number by Lot; and perhaps in one Lot that may be for ten, there
+may happen to be three or four Men, the rest Women and Children. Or be
+there more or less of either Sex, you are obliged to be contented with
+your Lot.
+
+_Coramantien_, a Country of _Blacks_ so called, was one of those Places
+in which they found the most advantageous Trading for these Slaves, and
+thither most of our great Traders in that Merchandize traffick; for that
+Nation is very warlike and brave; and having a continual Campaign, being
+always in Hostility with one neighbouring Prince or other, they had the
+Fortune to take a great many Captives: for all they took in Battle were
+sold as Slaves; at least those common Men who could not ransom
+themselves. Of these Slaves so taken, the General only has all the
+Profit; and of these Generals our Captains and Masters of Ships buy all
+their Freights.
+
+The King of _Coramantien_ was of himself a Man of an hundred and odd
+Years old, and had no Son, tho' he had many beautiful Black Wives: for
+most certainly there are Beauties that can charm of that Colour. In his
+younger Years he had had many gallant Men to his Sons, thirteen of whom
+died in Battle, conquering when they fell; and he had only left him for
+his Successor, one Grand-child, Son to one of these dead Victors, who,
+as soon as he could bear a Bow in his Hand, and a Quiver at his Back,
+was sent into the Field, to be train'd up by one of the oldest Generals
+to War; where, from his natural Inclination to Arms, and the Occasions
+given him, with the good Conduct of the old General, he became, at the
+Age of seventeen, one of the most expert Captains, and bravest Soldiers
+that ever saw the Field of _Mars_: so that he was ador'd as the Wonder
+of all that World, and the Darling of the Soldiers. Besides, he was
+adorn'd with a native Beauty, so transcending all those of his gloomy
+Race, that he struck an Awe and Reverence, even into those that knew not
+his Quality; as he did into me, who beheld him with Surprize and Wonder,
+when afterwards he arrived in our World.
+
+He had scarce arrived at his seventeenth Year, when, fighting by his
+Side, the General was kill'd with an Arrow in his Eye, which the Prince
+_Oroonoko_ (for so was this gallant _Moor_ call'd) very narrowly
+avoided; nor had he, if the General who saw the Arrow shot, and
+perceiving it aimed at the Prince, had not bow'd his Head between, on
+Purpose to receive it in his own Body, rather than it should touch that
+of the Prince, and so saved him.
+
+'Twas then, afflicted as _Oroonoko_ was, that he was proclaimed General
+in the old Man's Place: and then it was, at the finishing of that War,
+which had continu'd for two Years, that the Prince came to Court, where
+he had hardly been a Month together, from the Time of his fifth Year to
+that of seventeen: and 'twas amazing to imagine where it was he learn'd
+so much Humanity; or to give his Accomplishments a juster Name, where
+'twas he got that real Greatness of Soul, those refined Notions of true
+Honour, that absolute Generosity, and that Softness, that was capable of
+the highest Passions of Love and Gallantry, whose Objects were almost
+continually fighting Men, or those mangled or dead, who heard no Sounds
+but those of War and Groans. Some Part of it we may attribute to the
+Care of a _Frenchman_ of Wit and Learning, who finding it turn to a very
+good Account to be a sort of Royal Tutor to this young Black, and
+perceiving him very ready, apt, and quick of Apprehension, took a great
+Pleasure to teach him Morals, Language and Science; and was for it
+extremely belov'd and valu'd by him. Another Reason was, he lov'd when
+he came from War, to see all the _English_ Gentlemen that traded
+thither; and did not only learn their Language, but that of the
+_Spaniard_ also, with whom he traded afterwards for Slaves.
+
+I have often seen and conversed with this Great Man, and been a Witness
+to many of his mighty Actions; and do assure my Reader, the most
+illustrious Courts could not have produced a braver Man, both for
+Greatness of Courage and Mind, a�Judgment more solid, a�Wit more quick,
+and a Conversation more sweet and diverting. He knew almost as much as
+if he had read much: He had heard of and admired the _Romans_: He had
+heard of the late Civil Wars in _England_, and the deplorable Death of
+our great Monarch; and would discourse of it with all the Sense and
+Abhorrence of the Injustice imaginable. He had an extreme good and
+graceful Mien, and all the Civility of a well-bred Great Man. He had
+nothing of Barbarity in his Nature, but in all Points address'd himself
+as if his Education had been in some _European_ Court.
+
+This great and just Character of _Oroonoko_ gave me an extreme Curiosity
+to see him, especially when I knew he spoke _French_ and _English_, and
+that I could talk with him. But tho' I�had heard so much of him, I�was
+as greatly surprized when I saw him, as if I had heard nothing of him;
+so beyond all Report I found him. He came into the Room, and addressed
+himself to me, and some other Women, with the best Grace in the World.
+He was pretty tall, but of a Shape the most exact that can be fancy'd:
+The most famous Statuary could not form the Figure of a Man more
+admirably turn'd from Head to Foot. His Face was not of that brown rusty
+Black which most of that Nation are, but a perfect Ebony, or polished
+Jet. His Eyes were the most aweful that could be seen, and very
+piercing; the White of 'em being like Snow, as were his Teeth. His Nose
+was rising and _Roman_, instead of _African_ and flat: His Mouth the
+finest shaped that could be seen; far from those great turn'd Lips,
+which are so natural to the rest of the Negroes. The whole Proportion
+and Air of his Face was so nobly and exactly form'd, that bating his
+Colour, there could be nothing in Nature more beautiful, agreeable and
+handsome. There was no one Grace wanting, that bears the Standard of
+true Beauty. His Hair came down to his Shoulders, by the Aids of Art,
+which was by pulling it out with a Quill, and keeping it comb'd; of
+which he took particular Care. Nor did the Perfections of his Mind come
+short of those of his Person; for his Discourse was admirable upon
+almost any Subject: and whoever had heard him speak, would have been
+convinced of their Errors, that all fine Wit is confined to the white
+Men, especially to those of Christendom; and would have confess'd that
+_Oroonoko_ was as capable even of reigning well, and of governing as
+wisely, had as great a Soul, as politick Maxims, and was as sensible of
+Power, as any Prince civiliz'd in the most refined Schools of Humanity
+and Learning, or the most illustrious Courts.
+
+This Prince, such as I have describ'd him, whose Soul and Body were so
+admirably adorned, was (while yet he was in the Court of his
+Grandfather, as I said) as capable of Love, as 'twas possible for a
+brave and gallant Man to be; and in saying that, I�have named the
+highest Degree of Love: for sure great Souls are most capable of that
+Passion.
+
+I have already said, the old General was kill'd by the Shot of an Arrow,
+by the Side of this Prince, in Battle; and that _Oroonoko_ was made
+General. This old dead Hero had one only Daughter left of his Race,
+a�Beauty, that to describe her truly, one need say only, she was Female
+to the noble Male; the beautiful Black _Venus_ to our young _Mars_; as
+charming in her Person as he, and of delicate Virtues. I�have seen a
+hundred White Men sighing after her, and making a thousand Vows at her
+Feet, all in vain and unsuccessful. And she was indeed too great for any
+but a Prince of her own Nation to adore.
+
+_Oroonoko_ coming from the Wars (which were now ended) after he had made
+his Court to his Grandfather, he thought in Honour he ought to make a
+Visit to _Imoinda_, the Daughter of his Foster-father, the dead General;
+and to make some Excuses to her, because his Preservation was the
+Occasion of her Father's Death; and to present her with those Slaves
+that had been taken in this last Battle, as the Trophies of her Father's
+Victories. When he came, attended by all the young Soldiers of any
+Merit, he was infinitely surpriz'd at the Beauty of this fair Queen of
+Night, whose Face and Person were so exceeding all he had ever beheld,
+that lovely Modesty with which she receiv'd him, that Softness in her
+Look and Sighs, upon the melancholy Occasion of this Honour that was
+done by so great a Man as _Oroonoko_, and a Prince of whom she had heard
+such admirable Things; the Awfulness wherewith she receiv'd him, and the
+Sweetness of her Words and Behaviour while he stay'd, gain'd a perfect
+Conquest over his fierce Heart, and made him feel, the Victor could be
+subdu'd. So that having made his first Compliments, and presented her an
+hundred and fifty Slaves in Fetters, he told her with his Eyes, that he
+was not insensible of her Charms; while _Imoinda_, who wish'd for
+nothing more than so glorious a Conquest, was pleas'd to believe, she
+understood that silent Language of new-born Love; and, from that Moment,
+put on all her Additions to Beauty.
+
+The Prince return'd to Court with quite another Humour than before; and
+tho' he did not speak much of the fair _Imoinda_, he had the Pleasure to
+hear all his Followers speak of nothing but the Charms of that Maid,
+insomuch, that, even in the Presence of the old King, they were
+extolling her, and heightning, if possible, the Beauties they had found
+in her: so that nothing else was talk'd of, no other Sound was heard in
+every Corner where there were Whisperers, but _Imoinda! Imoinda!_
+
+'Twill be imagin'd _Oroonoko_ stay'd not long before he made his second
+Visit; nor, considering his Quality, not much longer before he told her,
+he ador'd her. I�have often heard him say, that he admir'd by what
+strange Inspiration he came to talk Things so soft, and so passionate,
+who never knew Love, nor was us'd to the Conversation of Women; but
+(to�use his own Words) he said, 'Most happily, some new, and, till then,
+unknown Power instructed his Heart and Tongue in the Language of Love;
+and at the same Time, in Favour of him, inspir'd _Imoinda_ with a Sense
+of his Passion.' She was touch'd with what he said, and return'd it all
+in such Answers as went to his very Heart, with a Pleasure unknown
+before. Nor did he use those Obligations ill, that Love had done him,
+but turn'd all his happy Moments to the best Advantage; and as he knew
+no Vice, his Flame aim'd at nothing but Honour, if such a Distinction
+may be made in Love; and especially in that Country, where Men take to
+themselves as many as they can maintain; and where the only Crime and
+Sin against a Woman, is, to turn her off, to abandon her to Want, Shame
+and Misery: such ill Morals are only practis'd in _Christian_ Countries,
+where they prefer the bare Name of Religion; and, without Virtue or
+Morality, think that sufficient. But _Oroonoko_ was none of those
+Professors; but as he had right Notions of Honour, so he made her such
+Propositions as were not only and barely such; but, contrary to the
+Custom of his Country, he made her Vows, she should be the only Woman he
+would possess while he liv'd; that no Age or Wrinkles should incline him
+to change: for her Soul would be always fine, and always young; and he
+should have an eternal _Idea_ in his Mind of the Charms she now bore;
+and should look into his Heart for that _Idea_, when he could find it no
+longer in her Face.
+
+After a thousand Assurances of his lasting Flame, and her eternal Empire
+over him, she condescended to receive him for her Husband; or rather,
+receive him, as the greatest Honour the Gods could do her.
+
+There is a certain Ceremony in these Cases to be observ'd, which I
+forgot to ask how 'twas perform'd; but 'twas concluded on both Sides,
+that in Obedience to him, the Grandfather was to be first made
+acquainted with the Design: For they pay a most absolute Resignation to
+the Monarch, especially when he is a Parent also.
+
+On the other Side, the old King, who had many Wives, and many
+Concubines, wanted not Court-Flatterers to insinuate into his Heart a
+thousand tender Thoughts for this young Beauty; and who represented her
+to his Fancy, as the most charming he had ever possess'd in all the long
+Race of his numerous Years. At this Character, his old Heart, like an
+extinguish'd Brand, most apt to take Fire, felt new Sparks of Love, and
+began to kindle; and now grown to his second Childhood, long'd with
+Impatience to behold this gay Thing, with whom, alas! he could but
+innocently play. But how he should be confirm'd she was this _Wonder_,
+before he us'd his Power to call her to Court, (where Maidens never
+came, unless for the King's private Use) he was next to consider; and
+while he was so doing, he had Intelligence brought him, that _Imoinda_
+was most certainly Mistress to the Prince _Oroonoko_. This gave him some
+Chagrine: however, it gave him also an Opportunity, one Day, when the
+Prince was a hunting, to wait on a Man of Quality, as his Slave and
+Attendant, who should go and make a Present to _Imoinda_, as from the
+Prince; he should then, unknown, see this fair Maid, and have an
+Opportunity to hear what Message she would return the Prince for his
+Present, and from thence gather the State of her Heart, and Degree of
+her Inclination. This was put in Execution, and the old Monarch saw, and
+burn'd: He found her all he had heard, and would not delay his
+Happiness, but found he should have some Obstacle to overcome her Heart;
+for she express'd her Sense of the Present the Prince had sent her, in
+Terms so sweet, so soft and pretty, with an Air of Love and Joy that
+could not be dissembled, insomuch that 'twas past Doubt whether she
+lov'd _Oroonoko_ entirely. This gave the old King some Affliction; but
+he salv'd it with this, that the Obedience the People pay their King,
+was not at all inferior to what they paid their Gods; and what Love
+would not oblige _Imoinda_ to do, Duty would compel her�to.
+
+He was therefore no sooner got into his Apartment, but he sent the Royal
+Veil to _Imoinda_; that is the Ceremony of Invitation: He sends the Lady
+he has a Mind to honour with his Bed, a�Veil, with which she is covered,
+and secur'd for the King's Use; and 'tis Death to disobey; besides, held
+a most impious Disobedience.
+
+'Tis not to be imagin'd the Surprize and Grief that seiz'd the lovely
+Maid at this News and Sight. However, as Delays in these Cases are
+dangerous, and Pleading worse than Treason; trembling, and almost
+fainting, she was oblig'd to suffer herself to be cover'd, and led away.
+
+They brought her thus to Court; and the King, who had caus'd a very rich
+Bath to be prepar'd, was led into it, where he sat under a Canopy, in
+State, to receive this long'd-for Virgin; whom he having commanded to be
+brought to him, they (after disrobing her) led her to the Bath, and
+making fast the Doors, left her to descend. The King, without more
+Courtship, bad her throw off her Mantle, and come to his Arms. But
+_Imoinda_, all in Tears, threw herself on the Marble, on the Brink of
+the Bath, and besought him to hear her. She told him, as she was a Maid,
+how proud of the Divine Glory she should have been, of having it in her
+Power to oblige her King: but as by the Laws he could not, and from his
+Royal Goodness would not take from any Man his wedded Wife; so she
+believ'd she should be the occasion of making him commit a great Sin, if
+she did not reveal her State and Condition; and tell him she was
+another's, and could not be so happy to be his.
+
+The King, enrag'd at this Delay, hastily demanded the Name of the bold
+Man, that had married a Woman of her Degree, without his Consent.
+_Imoinda_ seeing his Eyes fierce, and his Hands tremble, (whether with
+Age or Anger, I�know not, but she fancy'd the last) almost repented she
+had said so much, for now she fear'd the Storm would fall on the Prince;
+she therefore said a thousand Things to appease the raging of his Flame,
+and to prepare him to hear who it was with Calmness: but before she
+spoke, he imagin'd who she meant, but would not seem to do so, but
+commanded her to lay aside her Mantle, and suffer herself to receive his
+Caresses, or, by his Gods he swore, that happy Man whom she was going to
+name should die, tho' it was even _Oroonoko_ himself. _Therefore_
+(said�he) _deny this Marriage, and swear thyself a Maid. That_ (reply'd
+_Imoinda_) _by all our Powers I do; for I am not yet known to my
+Husband. 'Tis enough_ (said the King) _'tis enough both to satisfy my
+Conscience and my Heart._ And rising from his Seat, he went and led her
+into the Bath; it being in vain for her to resist.
+
+In this Time, the Prince, who was return'd from Hunting, went to visit
+his _Imoinda_, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard she had
+receiv'd the Royal Veil. This rais'd him to a Storm; and in his Madness,
+they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself.
+Force first prevail'd, and then Reason: They urg'd all to him, that
+might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh'd so greatly with him as the
+King's old Age, uncapable of injuring him with _Imoinda_. He would give
+Way to that Hope, because it pleas'd him most, and flatter'd best his
+Heart. Yet this serv'd not altogether to make him cease his different
+Passions, which sometimes rag'd within him, and soften'd into Showers.
+'Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grandfather was old,
+and could not that Way injure him, while he retain'd that awful Duty
+which the young Men are us'd there to pay to their grave Relations. He
+could not be convinc'd he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss of
+a Mistress, he could not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve, and
+he would often cry, 'Oh, my Friends! were she in wall'd Cities, or
+confin'd from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did
+Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me; I�would venture thro' any
+Hazard to free her; But here, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my Youth,
+my violent Love, my Trade in Arms, and all my vast Desire of Glory,
+avail me nothing. _Imoinda_ is as irrecoverably lost to me, as if she
+were snatch'd by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to be
+retrieved. If I would wait tedious Years; till Fate should bow the old
+King to his Grave, even that would not leave me _Imoinda_ free; but
+still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry his
+Father's Wives or Mistresses, would hinder my Happiness; unless I would
+either ignobly set an ill Precedent to my Successors, or abandon my
+Country, and fly with her to some unknown World who never heard our
+Story.'
+
+But it was objected to him, That his Case was not the same: for
+_Imoinda_ being his lawful Wife by solemn Contract, 'twas he was the
+injur'd Man, and might, if he so pleas'd, take _Imoinda_ back, the
+Breach of the Law being on his Grandfather's Side; and that if he could
+circumvent him, and redeem her from the _Otan_, which is the Palace of
+the King's Women, a�sort of _Seraglio_, it was both just and lawful for
+him so to�do.
+
+This Reasoning had some Force upon him, and he should have been entirely
+comforted, but for the Thought that she was possess'd by his
+Grandfather. However, he lov'd her so well, that he was resolv'd to
+believe what most favour'd his Hope, and to endeavour to learn from
+_Imoinda's_ own Mouth, what only she could satisfy him in, whether she
+was robb'd of that Blessing which was only due to his Faith and Love.
+But as it was very hard to get a Sight of the Women, (for no Men ever
+enter'd into the _Otan_ but when the King went to entertain himself with
+some one of his Wives or Mistresses; and 'twas Death, at any other Time,
+for any other to go�in) so he knew not how to contrive to get a Sight of
+her.
+
+While _Oroonoko_ felt all the Agonies of Love, and suffer'd under a
+Torment the most painful in the World, the old King was not exempted
+from his Share of Affliction. He was troubled, for having been forc'd,
+by an irresistible Passion, to rob his Son of a Treasure, he knew, could
+not but be extremely dear to him; since she was the most beautiful that
+ever had been seen, and had besides, all the Sweetness and Innocence of
+Youth and Modesty, with a Charm of Wit surpassing all. He found, that
+however she was forc'd to expose her lovely Person to his wither'd Arms,
+she could only sigh and weep there, and think of _Oroonoko_; and
+oftentimes could not forbear speaking of him, tho' her Life were, by
+Custom, forfeited by owning her Passion. But she spoke not of a Lover
+only, but of a Prince dear to him to whom she spoke; and of the Praises
+of a Man, who, 'till now, fill'd the old Man's Soul with Joy at every
+Recital of his Bravery, or even his Name. And 'twas this Dotage on our
+young Hero, that gave _Imoinda_ a thousand Privileges to speak of him
+without offending; and this Condescension in the old King, that made her
+take the Satisfaction of speaking of him so very often.
+
+Besides, he many times enquir'd how the Prince bore himself: And those
+of whom he ask'd, being entirely Slaves to the Merits and Virtues of the
+Prince, still answer'd what they thought conduc'd best to his Service;
+which was, to make the old King fancy that the Prince had no more
+Interest in _Imoinda_, and had resign'd her willingly to the Pleasure of
+the King; that he diverted himself with his Mathematicians, his
+Fortifications, his Officers, and his Hunting.
+
+This pleas'd the old Lover, who fail'd not to report these Things again
+to _Imoinda_, that she might, by the Example of her young Lover,
+withdraw her Heart, and rest better contented in his Arms. But, however
+she was forc'd to receive this unwelcome News, in all Appearance, with
+Unconcern and Content; her Heart was bursting within, and she was only
+happy when she could get alone, to vent her Griefs and Moans with Sighs
+and Tears.
+
+What Reports of the Prince's Conduct were made to the King, he thought
+good to justify, as far as possibly he could, by his Actions; and when
+he appear'd in the Presence of the King, he shew'd a Face not at all
+betraying his Heart: so that in a little Time, the old Man, being
+entirely convinc'd that he was no longer a Lover of _Imoinda_ he carry'd
+him with him in his Train to the _Otan_, often to banquet with his
+Mistresses. But as soon as he enter'd, one Day, into the Apartment of
+_Imoinda_, with the King, at the first Glance from her Eyes,
+notwithstanding all his determined Resolution, he was ready to sink in
+the Place where he stood; and had certainly done so, but for the Support
+of _Aboan_, a young Man who was next to him; which, with his Change of
+Countenance, had betray'd him, had the King chanc'd to look that Way.
+And I have observ'd, 'tis a very great Error in those who laugh when one
+says, _A�+Negro+ can change Colour_: for I have seen 'em as frequently
+blush, and look pale, and that as visibly as ever I saw in the most
+beautiful _White_. And 'tis certain, that both these Changes were
+evident, this Day, in both these Lovers. And _Imoinda_, who saw with
+some Joy the Change in the Prince's Face, and found it in her own,
+strove to divert the King from beholding either, by a forc'd Caress,
+with which she met him; which was a new Wound in the Heart of the poor
+dying Prince. But as soon as the King was busy'd in looking on some fine
+Thing of _Imoinda's_ making, she had Time to tell the Prince, with her
+angry, but Love-darting Eyes, that she resented his Coldness, and
+bemoan'd her own miserable Captivity. Nor were his Eyes silent, but
+answer'd her's again, as much as Eyes could do, instructed by the most
+tender and most passionate Heart that ever lov'd: And they spoke so
+well, and so effectually, as _Imoinda_ no longer doubted but she was the
+only Delight and Darling of that Soul she found pleading in 'em its
+Right of Love, which none was more willing to resign than she. And 'twas
+this powerful Language alone that in an Instant convey'd all the
+Thoughts of their Souls to each other; that they both found there wanted
+but Opportunity to make them both entirely happy. But when he saw
+another Door open'd by _Onahal_ (a�former old Wife of the King's, who
+now had Charge of _Imoinda_) and saw the Prospect of a Bed of State made
+ready, with Sweets and Flowers for the Dalliance of the King, who
+immediately led the trembling Victim from his Sight, into that prepar'd
+Repose; what Rage! what wild Frenzies seiz'd his Heart! which forcing to
+keep within Bounds, and to suffer without Noise, it became the more
+insupportable, and rent his Soul with ten thousand Pains. He was forc'd
+to retire to vent his Groans, where he fell down on a Carpet, and lay
+struggling a long Time, and only breathing now and then--Oh _Imoinda_!
+When _Onahal_ had finished her necessary Affair within, shutting the
+Door, she came forth, to wait till the King called; and hearing some one
+sighing in the other Room, she pass'd on, and found the Prince in that
+deplorable Condition, which she thought needed her Aid. She gave him
+Cordials, but all in vain; till finding the Nature of his Disease, by
+his Sighs, and naming _Imoinda_, she told him he had not so much Cause
+as he imagined to afflict himself: for if he knew the King so well as
+she did, he would not lose a Moment in Jealousy; and that she was
+confident that _Imoinda_ bore, at this Minute, Part in his Affliction.
+_Aboan_ was of the same Opinion, and both together persuaded him to
+re-assume his Courage; and all sitting down on the Carpet, the Prince
+said so many obliging Things to _Onahal_, that he half-persuaded her to
+be of his Party: and she promised him, she would thus far comply with
+his just Desires, that she would let _Imoinda_ know how faithful he was,
+what he suffer'd, and what he said.
+
+This Discourse lasted till the King called, which gave _Oroonoko_ a
+certain Satisfaction; and with the Hope _Onahal_ had made him conceive,
+he assumed a Look as gay as 'twas possible a Man in his Circumstances
+could do: and presently after, he was call'd in with the rest who waited
+without. The King commanded Musick to be brought, and several of his
+young Wives and Mistresses came all together by his Command, to dance
+before him; where _Imoinda_ perform'd her Part with an Air and Grace so
+surpassing all the rest, as her Beauty was above 'em, and received the
+Present ordained as a Prize. The Prince was every Moment more charmed
+with the new Beauties and Graces he beheld in this Fair-One; and while
+he gazed, and she danc'd, _Onahal_ was retired to a Window with _Aboan_.
+
+This _Onahal_, as I said, was one of the Cast-Mistresses of the old
+King; and 'twas these (now past their Beauty) that were made Guardians
+or Governantees to the new and the young ones, and whose Business it was
+to teach them all those wanton Arts of Love, with which they prevail'd
+and charm'd heretofore in their Turn; and who now treated the triumphing
+Happy-ones with all the Severity, as to Liberty and Freedom, that was
+possible, in Revenge of the Honours they rob them of; envying them those
+Satisfactions, those Gallantries and Presents, that were once made to
+themselves, while Youth and Beauty lasted, and which they now saw pass,
+as it were regardless by, and paid only to the Bloomings. And certainly,
+nothing is more afflicting to a decay'd Beauty, than to behold in itself
+declining Charms, that were once ador'd; and to find those Caresses paid
+to new Beauties, to which once she laid Claim; to hear them whisper, as
+she passes by, that once was a delicate Woman. Those abandon'd ladies
+therefore endeavour to revenge all the Despights and Decays of Time, on
+these flourishing Happy-ones. And 'twas this Severity that gave
+_Oroonoko_ a thousand Fears he should never prevail with _Onahal_ to see
+_Imoinda_. But, as I said, she was now retir'd to a Window with _Aboan_.
+
+This young Man was not only one of the best Quality, but a Man extremely
+well made, and beautiful; and coming often to attend the King to the
+_Otan_, he had subdu'd the Heart of the antiquated _Onahal_, which had
+not forgot how pleasant it was to be in love. And tho' she had some
+Decays in her Face, she had none in her Sense and Wit; she was there
+agreeable still, even to _Aboan's_ Youth: so that he took Pleasure in
+entertaining her with Discourses of Love. He knew also, that to make his
+Court to these She-favourites, was the Way to be great; these being the
+Persons that do all Affairs and Business at Court. He had also observed,
+that she had given him Glances more tender and inviting than she had
+done to others of his Quality. And now, when he saw that her Favour
+could so absolutely oblige the Prince, he fail'd not to sigh in her Ear,
+and look with Eyes all soft upon her, and gave her Hope that she had
+made some Impressions on his Heart. He found her pleas'd at this, and
+making a thousand Advances to him: but the Ceremony ending, and the King
+departing, broke up the Company for that Day, and his Conversation.
+
+_Aboan_ fail'd not that Night to tell the Prince of his Success, and how
+advantageous the Service of _Onahal_ might be to his Amour with
+_Imoinda_. The Prince was overjoy'd with this good News, and besought
+him, if it were possible, to caress her so, as to engage her entirely,
+which he could not fail to do, if he comply'd with her Desires: _For
+then_ (said the Prince) _her Life lying at your Mercy, she must grant
+you the Request you make in my Behalf_. _Aboan_ understood him, and
+assur'd him he would make Love so effectually, that he would defy the
+most expert Mistress of the Art, to find out whether he dissembled it,
+or had it really. And 'twas with Impatience they waited the next
+Opportunity of going to the _Otan_.
+
+The Wars came on, the Time of taking the Field approached; and 'twas
+impossible for the Prince to delay his going at the Head of his Army to
+encounter the Enemy; so that every Day seem'd a tedious Year, till he
+saw his _Imoinda_: for he believed he could not live, if he were forced
+away without being so happy. 'Twas with Impatience therefore that he
+expected the next Visit the King would make; and, according to his Wish,
+it was not long.
+
+The Parley of the Eyes of these two Lovers had not pass'd so secretly,
+but an old jealous Lover could spy it; or rather, he wanted not
+Flatterers who told him they observ'd it: so that the Prince was
+hasten'd to the Camp, and this was the last Visit he found he should
+make to the _Otan_; he therefore urged _Aboan_ to make the best of this
+last Effort, and to explain himself so to _Onahal_, that she deferring
+her Enjoyment of her young Lover no longer, might make Way for the
+Prince to speak to _Imoinda_.
+
+The whole Affair being agreed on between the Prince and _Aboan_, they
+attended the King, as the Custom was, to the _Otan_; where, while the
+whole Company was taken up in beholding the Dancing, and Antick Postures
+the Women-Royal made to divert the King, _Onahal_ singled out _Aboan_,
+whom she found most pliable to her Wish. When she had him where she
+believed she could not be heard, she sigh'd to him, and softly cry'd,
+'Ah, _Aboan!_ when will you be sensible of my Passion? I�confess it with
+my Mouth, because I would not give my Eyes the Lye; and you have but too
+much already perceived they have confess'd my Flame: nor would I have
+you believe, that because I am the abandon'd Mistress of a King,
+I�esteem myself altogether divested of Charms: No, _Aboan_; I have still
+a Rest of Beauty enough engaging, and have learn'd to please too well,
+not to be desirable. I�can have Lovers still, but will have none but
+_Aboan_. Madam, (_reply'd the half-feigning Youth_) you have already, by
+my Eyes, found you can still conquer; and I believe 'tis in pity of me
+you condescend to this kind Confession. But, Madam, Words are used to be
+so small a Part of our Country-Courtship, that 'tis rare one can get so
+happy an Opportunity as to tell one's Heart; and those few Minutes we
+have, are forced to be snatch'd for more certain Proofs of Love than
+speaking and sighing: and such I languish for.'
+
+He spoke this with such a Tone, that she hoped it true, and could not
+forbear believing it; and being wholly transported with Joy for having
+subdued the finest of all the King's Subjects to her Desires, she took
+from her Ears two large Pearls, and commanded him to wear 'em in his. He
+would have refused 'em, crying, _Madam these are not the Proofs of our
+Love that I expect; 'tis Opportunity, 'tis a Lone-Hour only, that can
+make me happy._ But forcing the Pearls into his Hand, she whisper'd
+softly to him; _Oh! do not fear a Woman's Invention, when Love sets her
+a thinking._ And pressing his Hand, she cry'd, _This Night you shall be
+happy. Come to the Gate of the Orange-Grove, behind the +Otan+, and I
+will be ready about midnight to receive you._ 'Twas thus agreed, and she
+left him, that no Notice might be taken of their speaking together.
+
+The Ladies were still dancing, and the King, laid on a Carpet, with a
+great deal of Pleasure was beholding them, especially _Imoinda_, who
+that Day appeared more lovely than ever, being enlivened with the good
+Tidings _Onahal_ had brought her, of the constant Passion the Prince had
+for her. The Prince was laid on another Carpet at the other End of the
+Room, with his Eyes fixed on the Object of his Soul; and as she turned
+or moved, so did they; and she alone gave his Eyes and Soul their
+Motions. Nor did _Imoinda_ employ her Eyes to any other use, than in
+beholding with infinite Pleasure the Joy she produced in those of the
+Prince. But while she was more regarding him than the Steps she took,
+she chanced to fall, and so near him, as that leaping with extreme Force
+from the Carpet, he caught her in his Arms as she fell; and 'twas
+visible to the whole Presence, the Joy wherewith he received her. He
+clasped her close to his Bosom, and quite forgot that Reverence that was
+due to the Mistress of a King, and that Punishment that is the Reward of
+a Boldness of this Nature. And had not the Presence of Mind of _Imoinda_
+(fonder of his Safety than her own) befriended him, in making her spring
+from his Arms, and fall into her Dance again, he had at that Instant met
+his Death; for the old King, jealous to the last Degree, rose up in
+Rage, broke all the Diversion, and led _Imoinda_ to her Apartment, and
+sent out Word to the Prince, to go immediately to the Camp; and that if
+he were found another Night in Court, he should suffer the Death
+ordained for disobedient Offenders.
+
+You may imagine how welcome this News was to _Oroonoko_, whose
+unseasonable Transport and Caress of _Imoinda_ was blamed by all Men
+that loved him: and now he perceived his Fault, yet cry'd, _That for
+such another Moment he would be content to die_.
+
+All the _Otan_ was in Disorder about this Accident; and _Onahal_ was
+particularly concern'd, because on the Prince's Stay depended her
+Happiness; for she could no longer expect that of _Aboan_: So that e'er
+they departed, they contrived it so, that the Prince and he should both
+come that Night to the Grove of the _Otan_, which was all of Oranges and
+Citrons, and that there they would wait her Orders.
+
+They parted thus with Grief enough 'till Night, leaving the King in
+Possession of the lovely Maid. But nothing could appease the Jealousy of
+the old Lover; he would not be imposed on, but would have it, that
+_Imoinda_ made a false Step on Purpose to fall into _Oroonoko's_ Bosom,
+and that all things looked like a Design on both Sides; and 'twas in
+vain she protested her Innocence: He was old and obstinate, and left
+her, more than half assur'd that his Fear was true.
+
+The King going to his Apartment, sent to know where the Prince was, and
+if he intended to obey his Command. The Messenger return'd, and told
+him, he found the Prince pensive, and altogether unprepar'd for the
+Campaign; that he lay negligently on the Ground, and answer'd very
+little. This confirmed the Jealousy of the King, and he commanded that
+they should very narrowly and privately watch his Motions; and that he
+should not stir from his Apartment, but one Spy or other should be
+employ'd to watch him: So that the Hour approaching, wherein he was to
+go to the Citron-Grove; and taking only _Aboan_ along with him, he
+leaves his Apartment, and was watched to the very Gate of the _Otan_;
+where he was seen to enter, and where they left him, to carry back the
+Tidings to the King.
+
+_Oroonoko_ and _Aboan_ were no sooner enter'd, but _Onahal_ led the
+Prince to the Apartment of _Imoinda_; who, not knowing any thing of her
+Happiness, was laid in Bed. But _Onahal_ only left him in her Chamber,
+to make the best of his Opportunity, and took her dear _Aboan_ to her
+own; where he shewed the Height of Complaisance for his Prince, when, to
+give him an Opportunity, he suffered himself to be caressed in Bed by
+_Onahal_.
+
+The Prince softly waken'd _Imoinda_, who was not a little surpriz'd with
+Joy to find him there; and yet she trembled with a thousand Fears.
+I�believe he omitted saying nothing to this young Maid, that might
+persuade her to suffer him to seize his own, and take the Rights of
+Love. And I believe she was not long resisting those Arms where she so
+longed to be; and having Opportunity, Night, and Silence, Youth, Love,
+and Desire, he soon prevail'd, and ravished in a Moment what his old
+Grandfather had been endeavouring for so many Months.
+
+'Tis not to be imagined the Satisfaction of these two young Lovers; nor
+the Vows she made him, that she remained a spotless Maid till that
+Night, and that what she did with his Grandfather had robb'd him of no
+Part of her Virgin-Honour; the Gods, in Mercy and Justice, having
+reserved that for her plighted Lord, to whom of Right it belonged. And
+'tis impossible to express the Transports he suffer'd, while he listen'd
+to a Discourse so charming from her loved Lips; and clasped that Body in
+his Arms, for whom he had so long languished; and nothing now afflicted
+him, but his sudden Departure from her; for he told her the Necessity,
+and his Commands, but should depart satisfy'd in this, That since the
+old King had hitherto not been able to deprive him of those Enjoyments
+which only belonged to him, he believed for the future he would be less
+able to injure him; so that, abating the Scandal of the Veil, which was
+no otherwise so, than that she was Wife to another, he believed her
+safe, even in the Arms of the King, and innocent; yet would he have
+ventur'd at the Conquest of the World, and have given it all to have had
+her avoided that Honour of receiving the _Royal Veil_. 'Twas thus,
+between a thousand Caresses, that both bemoan'd the hard Fate of Youth
+and Beauty, so liable to that cruel Promotion: 'Twas a Glory that could
+well have been spared here, tho' desired and aim'd at by all the young
+Females of that Kingdom.
+
+But while they were thus fondly employ'd, forgetting how Time ran on,
+and that the Dawn must conduct him far away from his only Happiness,
+they heard a great Noise in the _Otan_, and unusual Voices of Men; at
+which the Prince, starting from the Arms of the frighted _Imoinda_, ran
+to a little Battle-Ax he used to wear by his Side; and having not so
+much Leisure as to put on his Habit, he opposed himself against some who
+were already opening the Door: which they did with so much Violence,
+that _Oroonoko_ was not able to defend it; but was forced to cry out
+with a commanding Voice, 'Whoever ye are that have the Boldness to
+attempt to approach this Apartment thus rudely; know, that I, the Prince
+_Oroonoko_, will revenge it with the certain Death of him that first
+enters: Therefore stand back, and know, this Place is sacred to Love and
+Me this Night; To-morrow 'tis the King's.'
+
+This he spoke with a Voice so resolv'd and assur'd, that they soon
+retired from the Door; but cry'd, ''Tis by the King's Command we are
+come; and being satisfy'd by thy Voice, O�Prince, as much as if we had
+enter'd, we can report to the King the Truth of all his Fears, and leave
+thee to provide for thy own Safety, as thou art advis'd by thy Friends.'
+
+At these Words they departed, and left the Prince to take a short and
+sad Leave of his _Imoinda_; who, trusting in the Strength of her Charms,
+believed she should appease the Fury of a jealous King, by saying, she
+was surprized, and that it was by Force of Arms he got into her
+Apartment. All her Concern now was for his Life, and therefore she
+hasten'd him to the Camp, and with much ado prevail'd on him to go. Nor
+was it she alone that prevail'd; _Aboan_ and _Onahal_ both pleaded, and
+both assured him of a Lye that should be well enough contrived to secure
+_Imoinda_. So that at last, with a Heart sad as Death, dying Eyes, and
+sighing Soul, _Oroonoko_ departed, and took his way to the Camp.
+
+It was not long after, the King in Person came to the _Otan_; where
+beholding _Imoinda_, with Rage in his Eyes, he upbraided her Wickedness,
+and Perfidy; and threatning her Royal Lover, she fell on her Face at his
+Feet, bedewing the Floor with her Tears, and imploring his Pardon for a
+Fault which she had not with her Will committed; as _Onahal_, who was
+also prostrate with her, could testify: That, unknown to her, he had
+broke into her Apartment, and ravished her. She spoke this much against
+her Conscience; but to save her own Life, 'twas absolutely necessary she
+should feign this Falsity. She knew it could not injure the Prince, he
+being fled to an Army that would stand by him, against any Injuries that
+should assault him. However, this last Thought of _Imoinda's_ being
+ravished, changed the Measures of his Revenge; and whereas before he
+designed to be himself her Executioner, he now resolved she should not
+die. But as it is the greatest Crime in Nature amongst them, to touch a
+Woman after having been possess'd by a Son, a�Father, or a Brother, so
+now he looked on _Imoinda_ as a polluted thing wholly unfit for his
+Embrace; nor would he resign her to his Grandson, because she had
+received the _Royal Veil_: He therefore removes her from the _Otan_,
+with _Onahal_; whom he put into safe Hands, with Order they should be
+both sold off as Slaves to another Country, either _Christian_ or
+_Heathen_, 'twas no Matter where.
+
+This cruel Sentence, worse than Death, they implor'd might be reversed;
+but their Prayers were vain, and it was put in Execution accordingly,
+and that with so much Secrecy, that none, either without or within the
+_Otan_, knew any thing of their Absence, or their Destiny.
+
+The old King nevertheless executed this with a great deal of Reluctancy;
+but he believed he had made a very great Conquest over himself, when he
+had once resolved, and had perform'd what he resolved. He believed now,
+that his Love had been unjust; and that he could not expect the Gods, or
+_Captain of the Clouds_ (as�they call the unknown Power) would suffer a
+better Consequence from so ill a Cause. He now begins to hold _Oroonoko_
+excused; and to say, he had reason for what he did. And now every body
+could assure the King how passionately _Imoinda_ was beloved by the
+Prince; even those confess'd it now, who said the contrary before his
+Flame was not abated. So that the King being old, and not able to defend
+himself in War, and having no Sons of all his Race remaining alive, but
+only this, to maintain him on his Throne; and looking on this as a man
+disobliged, first by the Rape of his Mistress, or rather Wife, and now
+by depriving him wholly of her, he fear'd, might make him desperate, and
+do some cruel thing, either to himself or his old Grandfather the
+Offender, he began to repent him extremely of the Contempt he had, in
+his Rage, put on _Imoinda_. Besides, he consider'd he ought in Honour to
+have killed her for this Offence, if it had been one. He ought to have
+had so much Value and Consideration for a Maid of her Quality, as to
+have nobly put her to Death, and not to have sold her like a common
+Slave; the greatest Revenge, and the most disgraceful of any, and to
+which they a thousand times prefer Death, and implore it; as _Imoinda_
+did, but could not obtain that Honour. Seeing therefore it was certain
+that _Oroonoko_ would highly resent this Affront, he thought good to
+make some Excuse for his Rashness to him; and to that End, he sent a
+Messenger to the Camp, with Orders to treat with him about the Matter,
+to gain his Pardon, and endeavour to mitigate his Grief: but that by no
+Means he should tell him she was sold, but secretly put to Death; for he
+knew he should never obtain his Pardon for the other.
+
+When the Messenger came, he found the Prince upon the Point of engaging
+with the Enemy; but as soon as he heard of the Arrival of the Messenger,
+he commanded him to his Tent, where he embraced him, and received him
+with Joy; which was soon abated by the down-cast Looks of the Messenger,
+who was instantly demanded the Cause by _Oroonoko_; who, impatient of
+Delay, ask'd a thousand Questions in a Breath, and all concerning
+_Imoinda_. But there needed little Return; for he could almost answer
+himself of all he demanded, from his Sight and Eyes. At last the
+Messenger casting himself at the Prince's Feet, and kissing them with
+all the Submission of a Man that had something to implore which he
+dreaded to utter, besought him to hear with Calmness what he had to
+deliver to him, and to call up all his noble and heroick Courage, to
+encounter with his Words, and defend himself against the ungrateful
+Things he had to relate. _Oroonoko_ reply'd, with a deep Sigh, and a
+languishing Voice,--_I am armed against their worst Efforts--For I know
+they will tell me, +Imoinda+ is no more--And after that, you may spare
+the rest._ Then, commanding him to rise, he laid himself on a Carpet,
+under a rich Pavilion, and remained a good while silent, and was hardly
+heard to sigh. When he was come a little to himself, the Messenger asked
+him Leave to deliver that Part of his Embassy which the Prince had not
+yet divin'd: And the Prince cry'd, _I�permit thee_--Then he told him the
+Affliction the old King was in, for the Rashness he had committed in his
+Cruelty to _Imoinda_; and how he deign'd to ask Pardon for his Offence,
+and to implore the Prince would not suffer that Loss to touch his Heart
+too sensibly, which now all the Gods could not restore him, but might
+recompense him in Glory, which he begged he would pursue; and that
+Death, that common Revenger of all Injuries, would soon even the Account
+between him and a feeble old Man.
+
+_Oroonoko_ bad him return his Duty to his Lord and Master; and to assure
+him, there was no Account of Revenge to be adjudged between them; If
+there was, he was the Aggressor, and that Death would be just, and,
+maugre his Age, would see him righted; and he was contented to leave his
+Share of Glory to Youths more fortunate and worthy of that Favour from
+the Gods: That henceforth he would never lift a Weapon, or draw a Bow,
+but abandon the small Remains of his Life to Sighs and Tears, and the
+continual Thoughts of what his Lord and Grandfather had thought good to
+send out of the World, with all that Youth, that Innocence and Beauty.
+
+After having spoken this, whatever his greatest Officers and Men of the
+best Rank could do, they could not raise him from the Carpet, or
+persuade him to Action, and Resolutions of Life; but commanding all to
+retire, he shut himself into his Pavilion all that Day, while the Enemy
+was ready to engage: and wondring at the Delay, the whole Body of the
+chief of the Army then address'd themselves to him, and to whom they had
+much ado to get Admittance. They fell on their Faces at the Foot of his
+Carpet, where they lay, and besought him with earnest Prayers and Tears
+to lead them forth to Battle, and not let the Enemy take Advantages of
+them; and implored him to have Regard to his Glory, and to the World,
+that depended on his Courage and Conduct. But he made no other Reply to
+all their Supplications than this, That he had now no more Business for
+Glory; and for the World, it was a Trifle not worth his Care: _Go_,
+(continued he, sighing) _and divide it amongst you, and reap with Joy
+what you so vainly prize, and leave me to my more welcome Destiny._
+
+They then demanded what they should do, and whom he would constitute in
+his Room, that the Confusion of ambitious Youth and Power might not ruin
+their Order, and make them a Prey to the Enemy. He reply'd, he would not
+give himself that Trouble--but wished 'em to chuse the bravest Man
+amongst 'em, let his Quality or Birth be what it would: 'For, Oh my
+Friends! (says�he) it is not Titles make Men Brave or Good; or Birth
+that bestows Courage and Generosity, or makes the Owner Happy. Believe
+this, when you behold _Oroonoko_ the most wretched, and abandoned by
+Fortune, of all the Creation of the Gods.' So turning himself about, he
+would make no more Reply to all they could urge or implore.
+
+The Army beholding their Officers return unsuccessful, with sad Faces
+and ominous Looks, that presaged no good Luck, suffer'd a thousand Fears
+to take Possession of their Hearts, and the Enemy to come even upon them
+before they could provide for their Safety by any Defence: and tho' they
+were assured by some who had a Mind to animate them, that they should be
+immediately headed by the Prince; and that in the mean time _Aboan_ had
+Orders to command as General; yet they were so dismay'd for want of that
+great Example of Bravery, that they could make but a very feeble
+Resistance; and, at last, down-right fled before the Enemy, who pursued
+'em to the very Tents, killing 'em: Nor could all _Aboan's_ Courage,
+which that Day gained him immortal Glory, shame 'em into a manly Defence
+of themselves. The Guards that were left behind about the Prince's Tent,
+seeing the Soldiers flee before the Enemy, and scatter themselves all
+over the Plain, in great Disorder, made such Out-cries, as rouz'd the
+Prince from his amorous Slumber, in which he had remained buried for two
+Days, without permitting any Sustenance to approach him. But, in Spite
+of all his Resolutions, he had not the Constancy of Grief to that
+Degree, as to make him insensible of the Danger of his Army; and in that
+Instant he leaped from his Couch, and cry'd--'Come, if we must die, let
+us meet Death the noblest Way; and 'twill be more like _Oroonoko_ to
+encounter him at an Army's Head, opposing the Torrent of a conquering
+Foe, than lazily on a Couch, to wait his lingering Pleasure, and die
+every Moment by a thousand racking Thoughts; or be tamely taken by an
+Enemy, and led a whining, love-sick Slave to adorn the Triumphs of
+_Jamoan_, that young Victor, who already is enter'd beyond the Limits I
+have prescrib'd him.'
+
+While he was speaking, he suffer'd his People to dress him for the
+Field; and sallying out of his Pavilion, with more Life and Vigour in
+his Countenance than ever he shew'd, he appear'd like some Divine Power
+descended to save his Country from Destruction: And his People had
+purposely put him on all Things that might make him shine with most
+Splendor, to strike a reverend Awe into the Beholders. He flew into the
+thickest of those that were pursuing his Men; and being animated with
+Despair, he fought as if he came on Purpose to die, and did such Things
+as will not be believed that human Strength could perform; and such, as
+soon inspir'd all the rest with new Courage, and new Ardor. And now it
+was that they began to fight indeed; and so, as if they would not be
+out-done even by their ador'd Hero; who turning the Tide of the Victory,
+changing absolutely the Fate of the Day, gain'd an entire Conquest: And
+_Oroonoko_ having the good Fortune to single out _Jamoan_, he took him
+Prisoner with his own Hand, having wounded him almost to Death.
+
+This _Jamoan_ afterwards became very dear to him, being a Man very
+Gallant, and of excellent Graces, and fine Parts; so that he never put
+him amongst the Rank of Captives as they used to do, without
+Distinction, for the common Sale, or Market, but kept him in his own
+Court, where he retain'd nothing of the Prisoner but the Name, and
+returned no more into his own Country; so great an Affection he took for
+_Oroonoko_, and by a thousand Tales and Adventures of Love and
+Gallantry, flatter'd his Disease of Melancholy and Languishment; which I
+have often heard him say, had certainly kill'd him, but for the
+Conversation of this Prince and _Aboan_, and the _French_ Governor he
+had from his Childhood, of whom I have spoken before, and who was a Man
+of admirable Wit, great Ingenuity and Learning; all which he had infused
+into his young Pupil. This _Frenchman_ was banished out of his own
+Country for some Heretical Notions he held; and tho' he was a Man of
+very little Religion, yet he had admirable Morals, and a brave Soul.
+
+After the total Defeat of _Jamoan's_ Army, which all fled, or were left
+dead upon the Place, they spent some Time in the Camp; _Oroonoko_
+chusing rather to remain a While there in his Tents, than to enter into
+a Palace, or live in a Court where he had so lately suffer'd so great a
+Loss, the Officers therefore, who saw and knew his Cause of Discontent,
+invented all sorts of Diversions and Sports to entertain their Prince:
+So that what with those Amusements abroad, and others at home, that is,
+within their Tents, with the Persuasions, Arguments, and Care of his
+Friends and Servants that he more peculiarly priz'd, he wore off in Time
+a great Part of that Chagrin, and Torture of Despair, which the first
+Efforts of _Imoinda's_ Death had given him; insomuch, as having received
+a thousand kind Embassies from the King, and Invitation to return to
+Court, he obey'd, tho' with no little Reluctancy; and when he did so,
+there was a visible Change in him, and for a long Time he was much more
+melancholy than before. But Time lessens all Extremes, and reduces 'em
+to Mediums, and Unconcern; but no Motives of Beauties, tho' all
+endeavour'd it, could engage him in any sort of Amour, tho' he had all
+the Invitations to it, both from his own Youth, and other Ambitions and
+Designs.
+
+_Oroonoko_ was no sooner return'd from this last Conquest, and receiv'd
+at Court with all the Joy and Magnificence that could be express'd to a
+young Victor, who was not only return'd Triumphant, but belov'd like a
+Deity, than there arriv'd in the Port an _English_ Ship.
+
+The Master of it had often before been in these Countries, and was very
+well known to _Oroonoko_, with whom he had traffick'd for Slaves, and
+had us'd to do the same with his Predecessors.
+
+This Commander was a Man of a finer sort of Address and Conversation,
+better bred, and more engaging, than most of that sort of Men are; so
+that he seem'd rather never to have been bred out of a Court, than
+almost all his Life at Sea. This Captain therefore was always better
+receiv'd at Court, than most of the Traders to those Countries were; and
+especially by _Oroonoko_, who was more civiliz'd, according to the
+_European_ Mode, than any other had been, and took more Delight in the
+_White_ Nations; and, above all, Men of Parts and Wit. To this Captain
+he sold abundance of his Slaves; and for the Favour and Esteem he had
+for him, made him many Presents, and oblig'd him to stay at Court as
+long as possibly he could. Which the Captain seem'd to take as a very
+great Honour done him, entertaining the Prince every Day with Globes and
+Maps, and Mathematical Discourses and Instruments; eating, drinking,
+hunting, and living with him with so much Familiarity, that it was not
+to be doubted but he had gain'd very greatly upon the Heart of this
+gallant young Man. And the Captain, in Return of all these mighty
+Favours, besought the Prince to honour his Vessel with his Presence some
+Day or other at Dinner, before he should set sail; which he condescended
+to accept, and appointed his Day. The Captain, on his Part, fail'd not
+to have all Things in a Readiness, in the most magnificent Order he
+could possibly: And the Day being come, the Captain, in his Boat, richly
+adorn'd with Carpets and Velvet Cushions, rowed to the Shore, to receive
+the Prince; with another Long-boat, where was plac'd all his Musick and
+Trumpets, with which _Oroonoko_ was extremely delighted; who met him on
+the Shore, attended by his _French_ Governor, _Jamoan_, _Aboan_, and
+about an Hundred of the noblest of the Youths of the Court: And after
+they had first carried the Prince on Board, the Boats fetch'd the rest
+off; where they found a very splendid Treat, with all Sorts of fine
+Wines; and were as well entertain'd, as 'twas possible in such a Place
+to�be.
+
+The Prince having drank hard of Punch, and several Sorts of Wine, as did
+all the rest, (for great Care was taken they should want nothing of that
+Part of the Entertainment) was very merry, and in great Admiration of
+the Ship, for he had never been in one before; so that he was curious of
+beholding every Place where he decently might descend. The rest, no less
+curious, who were not quite overcome with drinking, rambled at their
+Pleasure _Fore_ and _Aft_, as their Fancies guided 'em: So that the
+Captain, who had well laid his Design before, gave the Word, and seiz'd
+on all his Guests; they clapping great Irons suddenly on the Prince,
+when he was leap'd down into the Hold, to view that Part of the Vessel;
+and locking him fast down, secur'd him. The same Treachery was used to
+all the rest; and all in one Instant, in several Places of the Ship,
+were lash'd fast in Irons, and betray'd to Slavery. That great Design
+over, they set all Hands at Work to hoist Sail; and with as treacherous
+as fair a Wind they made from the Shore with this innocent and glorious
+Prize, who thought of nothing less than such an Entertainment.
+
+Some have commended this Act, as brave in the Captain; but I will spare
+my Sense of it, and leave it to my Reader to judge as he pleases. It may
+be easily guess'd, in what Manner the Prince resented this Indignity,
+who may be best resembled to a Lion taken in a Toil; so he raged, so he
+struggled for Liberty, but all in vain: And they had so wisely managed
+his Fetters, that he could not use a Hand in his Defence, to quit
+himself of a Life that would by no Means endure Slavery; nor could he
+move from the Place where he was ty'd, to any solid Part of the Ship,
+against which he might have beat his Head, and have finish'd his
+Disgrace that Way. So that being deprived of all other Means, he
+resolv'd to perish for want of Food; and pleas'd at last with that
+Thought, and toil'd and tir'd by Rage and Indignation, he laid himself
+down, and sullenly resolv'd upon dying, and refused all Things that were
+brought him.
+
+This did not a little vex the Captain, and the more so, because he found
+almost all of 'em of the same Humour; so that the Loss of so many brave
+Slaves, so tall and goodly to behold, would have been very considerable:
+He therefore order'd one to go from him (for he would not be seen
+himself) to _Oroonoko_, and to assure him, he was afflicted for having
+rashly done so unhospitable a Deed, and which could not be now remedied,
+since they were far from Shore; but since he resented it in so high a
+Nature, he assur'd him he would revoke his Resolution, and set both him
+and his Friends ashore on the next Land they should touch at; and of
+this the Messenger gave him his Oath, provided he would resolve to live.
+And _Oroonoko_, whose Honour was such, as he never had violated a Word
+in his Life himself, much less a solemn Asseveration, believ'd in an
+Instant what this Man said; but reply'd, He expected, for a Confirmation
+of this, to have his shameful Fetters dismis'd. This Demand was carried
+to the Captain; who return'd him Answer, That the Offence had been so
+great which he had put upon the Prince, that he durst not trust him with
+Liberty while he remain'd in the Ship, for fear, lest by a Valour
+natural to him, and a Revenge that would animate that Valour, he might
+commit some Outrage fatal to himself, and the King his Master, to whom
+the Vessel did belong. To this _Oroonoko_ reply'd, He would engage his
+Honour to behave himself in all friendly Order and Manner, and obey the
+Command of the Captain, as he was Lord of the King's Vessel, and General
+of those Men under his Command.
+
+This was deliver'd to the still doubting Captain, who could not resolve
+to trust a Heathen, he said, upon his Parole, a�Man that had no Sense or
+Notion of the God that he worshipp'd. _Oroonoko_ then reply'd, He was
+very sorry to hear that the Captain pretended to the Knowledge and
+Worship of any Gods, who had taught him no better Principles, than not
+to credit as he would be credited. But they told him, the Difference of
+their Faith occasion'd that Distrust: for the Captain had protested to
+him upon the Word of a Christian, and sworn in the Name of a great GOD;
+which if he should violate, he must expect eternal Torments in the World
+to come. 'Is that all the Obligations he has to be just to his Oath?
+(reply'd _Oroonoko_) Let him know, I�swear by my Honour; which to
+violate, would not only render me contemptible and despised by all brave
+and honest Men, and so give my self perpetual Pain, but it would be
+eternally offending and displeasing all Mankind; harming, betraying,
+circumventing, and outraging all Men. But Punishments hereafter are
+suffer'd by one's self; and the World takes no Cognizance whether this
+GOD has reveng'd 'em or not, 'tis done so secretly, and deferr'd so
+long; while the Man of no Honour suffers every Moment the Scorn and
+Contempt of the honester World, and dies every Day ignominiously in his
+Fame, which is more valuable than Life. I�speak not this to move Belief,
+but to shew you how you mistake, when you imagine, that he who will
+violate his Honour, will keep his Word with his _Gods_.' So, turning
+from him with a disdainful Smile, he refused to answer him, when he
+urged him to know what Answer he should carry back to his Captain; so
+that he departed without saying any more.
+
+The Captain pondering and consulting what to do, it was concluded, that
+nothing but _Oroonoko's_ Liberty would encourage any of the rest to eat,
+except the _Frenchman_, whom the Captain could not pretend to keep
+Prisoner, but only told him, he was secur'd, because he might act
+something in Favour of the Prince; but that he should be freed as soon
+as they came to Land. So that they concluded it wholly necessary to free
+the Prince from his Irons, that he might shew himself to the rest; that
+they might have an Eye upon him, and that they could not fear a single
+Man.
+
+This being resolved, to make the Obligation the greater, the Captain
+himself went to _Oroonoko_; where, after many Compliments, and
+Assurances of what he had already promis'd, he receiving from the Prince
+his Parole, and his Hand, for his good Behaviour, dismiss'd his Irons,
+and brought him to his own Cabin; where, after having treated and
+repos'd him a While, (for he had neither eat nor slept in four Days
+before) he besought him to visit those obstinate People in Chains, who
+refused all manner of Sustenance; and intreated him to oblige 'em to
+eat, and assure 'em of their Liberty the first Opportunity.
+
+_Oroonoko_, who was too generous not to give Credit to his Words, shew'd
+himself to his People, who were transported with Excess of Joy at the
+Sight of their darling Prince; falling at his Feet, and kissing and
+embracing 'em; believing, as some divine Oracle, all he assur'd 'em. But
+he besought 'em to bear their Chains with that Bravery that became those
+whom he had seen act so nobly in Arms; and that they could not give him
+greater Proofs of their Love and Friendship, since 'twas all the
+Security the Captain (his Friend) could have against the Revenge, he
+said, they might possibly justly take for the Injuries sustained by him.
+And they all, with one Accord, assur'd him, that they could not suffer
+enough, when it was for his Repose and Safety.
+
+After this, they no longer refus'd to eat, but took what was brought
+'em, and were pleas'd with their Captivity, since by it they hoped to
+redeem the Prince, who, all the rest of the Voyage, was treated with all
+the Respect due to his Birth, tho' nothing could divert his Melancholy;
+and he would often sigh for _Imoinda_, and think this a Punishment due
+to his Misfortune, in having left that noble Maid behind him, that fatal
+Night, in the _Otan_, when he fled to the Camp.
+
+Possess'd with a thousand Thoughts of past Joys with this fair young
+Person, and a thousand Griefs for her eternal Loss, he endur'd a tedious
+Voyage, and at last arriv'd at the Mouth of the River of _Surinam_, a
+Colony belonging to the King of _England_, and where they were to
+deliver some Part of their Slaves. There the Merchants and Gentlemen of
+the Country going on Board, to demand those Lots of Slaves they had
+already agreed on; and, amongst those, the Overseers of those
+Plantations where I then chanc'd to be: The Captain, who had given the
+Word, order'd his Men to bring up those noble Slaves in Fetters, whom I
+have spoken of; and having put 'em, some in one, and some in other Lots,
+with Women and Children, (which they call _Pickaninies_) they sold 'em
+off, as Slaves to several Merchants and Gentlemen; not putting any two
+in one Lot, because they would separate 'em far from each other; nor
+daring to trust 'em together, lest Rage and Courage should put 'em upon
+contriving some great Action, to the Ruin of the Colony.
+
+_Oroonoko_ was first seiz'd on, and sold to our Overseer, who had the
+first Lot, with seventeen more of all Sorts and Sizes, but not one of
+Quality with him. When he saw this, he found what they meant; for, as I
+said, he understood _English_ pretty well; and being wholly unarm'd and
+defenceless, so as it was in vain to make any Resistance, he only beheld
+the Captain with a Look all fierce and disdainful, upbraiding him with
+Eyes that forc'd Blushes on his guilty Cheeks, he only cry'd in passing
+over the Side of the Ship; _Farewel, Sir, 'tis worth my Sufferings to
+gain so true a Knowledge, both of you, and of your Gods, by whom you
+swear._ And desiring those that held him to forbear their Pains, and
+telling 'em he would make no Resistance, he cry'd, _Come, my
+Fellow-Slaves, let us descend, and see if we can meet with more Honour
+and Honesty in the next World we shall touch upon._ So he nimbly leapt
+into the Boat, and shewing no more Concern, suffer'd himself to be row'd
+up the River, with his seventeen Companions.
+
+The Gentleman that bought him, was a young _Cornish_ Gentleman, whose
+Name was _Trefry_; a Man of great Wit, and fine Learning, and was
+carried into those Parts by the Lord ---- Governor, to manage all his
+Affairs. He reflecting on the last Words of _Oroonoko_ to the Captain,
+and beholding the Richness of his Vest, no sooner came into the Boat,
+but he fix'd his Eyes on him; and finding something so extraordinary in
+his Face, his Shape and Mein, a�Greatness of Look, and Haughtiness in
+his Air, and finding he spoke _English_, had a great Mind to be
+enquiring into his Quality and Fortune; which, though _Oroonoko_
+endeavour'd to hide, by only confessing he was above the Rank of common
+Slaves, _Trefry_ soon found he was yet something greater than he
+confess'd; and from that Moment began to conceive so vast an Esteem for
+him, that he ever after lov'd him as his dearest Brother, and shew'd him
+all the Civilities due to so great a Man.
+
+_Trefry_ was a very good Mathematician, and a Linguist; could speak
+_French_ and _Spanish_; and in the three Days they remain'd in the Boat,
+(for so long were they going from the Ship to the Plantation) he
+entertain'd _Oroonoko_ so agreeably with his Art and Discourse, that he
+was no less pleas'd with _Trefry_, than he was with the Prince; and he
+thought himself, at least, fortunate in this, that since he was a Slave,
+as long as he would suffer himself to remain so, he had a Man of so
+excellent Wit and Parts for a Master. So that before they had finish'd
+their Voyage up the River, he made no Scruple of declaring to _Trefry_
+all his Fortunes, and most Part of what I have here related, and put
+himself wholly into the Hands of his new Friend, who he found resented
+all the Injuries were done him, and was charm'd with all the Greatnesses
+of his Actions; which were recited with that Modesty, and delicate
+Sense, as wholly vanquish'd him, and subdu'd him to his Interest. And he
+promis'd him, on his Word and Honour, he would find the Means to
+re-conduct him to his own Country again; assuring him, he had a perfect
+Abhorrence of so dishonourable an Action; and that he would sooner have
+dy'd, than have been the Author of such a Perfidy. He found the Prince
+was very much concerned to know what became of his Friends, and how they
+took their Slavery; and _Trefry_ promised to take Care about the
+enquiring after their Condition, and that he should have an Account
+of�'em.
+
+Tho', as _Oroonoko_ afterwards said, he had little Reason to credit the
+Words of a _Backearary_; yet he knew not why, but he saw a kind of
+Sincerity, and aweful Truth in the Face of _Trefry_; he saw Honesty in
+his Eyes, and he found him wise and witty enough to understand Honour:
+for it was one of his Maxims, _A�Man of Wit could not be a Knave or
+Villain_.
+
+In their Passage up the River, they put in at several Houses for
+Refreshment; and ever when they landed, Numbers of People would flock to
+behold this Man: not but their Eyes were daily entertain'd with the
+Sight of Slaves; but the Fame of _Oroonoko_ was gone before him, and all
+People were in Admiration of his Beauty. Besides, he had a rich Habit
+on, in which he was taken, so different from the rest, and which the
+Captain could not strip him of, because he was forc'd to surprize his
+Person in the Minute he sold him. When he found his Habit made him
+liable, as he thought, to be gazed at the more, he begged _Trefry_ to
+give him something more befitting a Slave, which he did, and took off
+his Robes: Nevertheless, he shone thro' all, and his _Osenbrigs_ (a�sort
+of brown _Holland_ Suit he had�on) could not conceal the Graces of his
+Looks and Mein; and he had no less Admirers than when he had his dazling
+Habit on: The Royal Youth appear'd in spite of the Slave, and People
+could not help treating him after a different Manner, without designing
+it. As soon as they approached him, they venerated and esteemed him; his
+Eyes insensibly commanded Respect, and his Behaviour insinuated it into
+every Soul. So that there was nothing talked of but this young and
+gallant Slave, even by those who yet knew not that he was a Prince.
+
+I ought to tell you, that the Christians never buy any Slaves but they
+give 'em some Name of their own, their native ones being likely very
+barbarous, and hard to pronounce; so that Mr. _Trefry_ gave _Oroonoko_
+that of _C�sar_; which name will live in that Country as long as that
+(scarce more) glorious one of the great _Roman_: for 'tis most evident
+he wanted no Part of the personal Courage of that _C�sar_, and acted
+Things as memorable, had they been done in some Part of the World
+replenished with People and Historians, that might have given him his
+Due. But his Misfortune was, to fall in an obscure World, that afforded
+only a Female Pen to celebrate his Fame; tho' I�doubt not but it had
+lived from others Endeavours, if the _Dutch_, who immediately after his
+Time took that Country, had not killed, banished and dispersed all those
+that were capable of giving the World this great Man's Life, much better
+than I have done. And Mr. _Trefry_, who design'd it, died before he
+began it, and bemoan'd himself for not having undertook it in Time.
+
+For the future therefore I must call _Oroonoko C�sar_; since by that
+Name only he was known in our Western World, and by that Name he was
+received on Shore at _Parham-House_, where he was destin'd a Slave. But
+if the King himself (God bless him) had come ashore, there could not
+have been greater Expectation by all the whole Plantation, and those
+neighbouring ones, than was on ours at that Time; and he was received
+more like a Governor than a Slave: Notwithstanding, as the Custom was,
+they assigned him his Portion of Land, his House and his Business up in
+the Plantation. But as it was more for Form, than any Design to put him
+to his Task, he endured no more of the Slave but the Name, and remain'd
+some Days in the House, receiving all Visits that were made him, without
+stirring towards that Part of the Plantation where the _Negroes_ were.
+
+At last, he would needs go view his Land, his House, and the Business
+assign'd him. But he no sooner came to the Houses of the Slaves, which
+are like a little Town by itself, the _Negroes_ all having left Work,
+but they all came forth to behold him, and found he was that Prince who
+had, at several Times, sold most of 'em to these Parts; and from a
+Veneration they pay to great Men, especially if they know 'em, and from
+the Surprize and Awe they had at the Sight of him, they all cast
+themselves at his Feet, crying out, in their Language, _Live, O�King!
+Long live, O�King!_ and kissing his Feet, paid him even Divine Homage.
+
+Several _English_ Gentlemen were with him, and what Mr. _Trefry_ had
+told 'em was here confirm'd; of which he himself before had no other
+Witness than _C�sar_ himself: But he was infinitely glad to find his
+Grandeur confirmed by the Adoration of all the Slaves.
+
+_C�sar_, troubled with their Over-Joy, and Over-Ceremony, besought 'em
+to rise, and to receive him as their Fellow-Slave; assuring them he was
+no better. At which they set up with one Accord a most terrible and
+hideous Mourning and Condoling, which he and the _English_ had much ado
+to appease: but at last they prevailed with 'em, and they prepared all
+their barbarous Musick, and every one kill'd and dress'd something of
+his own Stock (for every Family has their Land apart, on which, at their
+Leisure-times, they breed all eatable Things) and clubbing it together,
+made a most magnificent Supper, inviting their _Grandee Captain_, their
+_Prince_, to honour it with his Presence; which he did, and several
+_English_ with him, where they all waited on him, some playing, others
+dancing before him all the Time, according to the Manners of their
+several Nations, and with unwearied Industry endeavouring to please and
+delight him.
+
+While they sat at Meat, Mr. _Trefry_ told _C�sar_, that most of these
+young Slaves were undone in Love with a fine She-Slave, whom they had
+had about six Months on their Land; the Prince, who never heard the Name
+of _Love_ without a Sigh, nor any Mention of it without the Curiosity of
+examining further into that Tale, which of all Discourses was most
+agreeable to him, asked, how they came to be so unhappy, as to be all
+undone for one fair Slave? _Trefry_, who was naturally amorous, and
+delighted to talk of Love as well as any Body, proceeded to tell him,
+they had the most charming Black that ever was beheld on their
+Plantation, about fifteen or sixteen Years old, as he guess'd; that for
+his Part he had done nothing but sigh for her ever since she came; and
+that all the White Beauties he had seen, never charm'd him so absolutely
+as this fine Creature had done; and that no Man, of any Nation, ever
+beheld her, that did not fall in love with her; and that she had all the
+Slaves perpetually at her Feet; and the whole Country resounded with the
+Fame of _Clemene_, for so (said�he) we have christen'd her: but she
+denies us all with such a noble Disdain, that 'tis a Miracle to see,
+that she who can give such eternal Desires, should herself be all Ice
+and all Unconcern. She is adorn'd with the most graceful Modesty that
+ever beautify'd Youth; the softest Sigher--that, if she were capable of
+Love, one would swear she languished for some absent happy Man; and so
+retired, as if she fear'd a Rape even from the God of Day, or that the
+Breezes would steal Kisses from her delicate Mouth. Her Task of Work,
+some sighing Lover every Day makes it his Petition to perform for her;
+which she accepts blushing, and with Reluctancy, for Fear he will ask
+her a Look for a Recompence, which he dares not presume to hope; so
+great an Awe she strikes into the Hearts of her Admirers. 'I�do not
+wonder (_reply'd the Prince_) that _Clemene_ should refuse Slaves,
+being, as you say, so beautiful; but wonder how she escapes those that
+can entertain her as you can do: or why, being your Slave, you do not
+oblige her to yield?' 'I�confess (_said +Trefry+_) when I have, against
+her Will, entertained her with Love so long, as to be transported with
+my Passion even above Decency, I�have been ready to make Use of those
+Advantages of Strength and Force Nature has given me: But Oh! she
+disarms me with that Modesty and Weeping, so tender and so moving, that
+I retire, and thank my Stars she overcame me.' The Company laugh'd at
+his Civility to a Slave, and _C�sar_ only applauded the Nobleness of
+his Passion and Nature, since that Slave might be noble, or, what was
+better, have true Notions of Honour and Virtue in her. Thus passed they
+this Night, after having received from the Slaves all imaginable Respect
+and Obedience.
+
+The next Day, _Trefry_ ask'd _C�sar_ to walk when the Heat was allay'd,
+and designedly carried him by the Cottage of the fair Slave; and told
+him she whom he spoke of last Night lived there retir'd: _But_ (says�he)
+_I�would not wish you to approach; for I am sure you will be in Love as
+soon as you behold her._ _C�sar_ assured him, he was Proof against all
+the Charms of that Sex; and that if he imagined his Heart could be so
+perfidious to love again after _Imoinda_, he believed he should tear it
+from his Bosom. They had no sooner spoke, but a little Shock-Dog, that
+_Clemene_ had presented her, which she took great Delight in, ran out;
+and she, not knowing any Body was there, ran to get it in again, and
+bolted out on those who were just speaking of her: when seeing them, she
+would have run in again, but _Trefry_ caught her by the Hand, and cry'd,
+Clemene, _however you fly a Lover, you ought to pay some Respect to this
+Stranger_, (pointing to _C�sar_.) But she, as if she had resolved never
+to raise her Eyes to the Face of a Man again, bent 'em the more to the
+Earth, when he spoke, and gave the Prince the Leisure to look the more
+at her. There needed no long gazing, or Consideration, to examine who
+this fair Creature was; he soon saw _Imoinda_ all over her: in a Minute
+he saw her Face, her Shape, her Air, her Modesty, and all that call'd
+forth his Soul with Joy at his Eyes, and left his Body destitute of
+almost Life: it stood without Motion, and for a Minute knew not that it
+had a Being; and, I�believe, he had never come to himself, so oppress'd
+he was with Over-joy, if he had not met with this Allay, that he
+perceived _Imoinda_ fall dead in the Hands of _Trefry_. This awaken'd
+him, and he ran to her Aid, and caught her in his Arms, where by Degrees
+she came to her self; and 'tis needless to tell with what Transports,
+what Extasies of Joy, they both a While beheld each other, without
+speaking; then snatched each other to their Arms; then gaze again, as if
+they still doubted whether they possess'd the Blessing they grasped: but
+when they recover'd their Speech, 'tis not to be imagined what tender
+Things they express'd to each other; wondring what strange Fate had
+brought them again together. They soon inform'd each other of their
+Fortunes, and equally bewail'd their Fate; but at the same Time they
+mutually protested, that even Fetters and Slavery were soft and easy,
+and would be supported with Joy and Pleasure, while they could be so
+happy to possess each other, and to be able to make good their Vows.
+_C�sar_ swore he disdained the Empire of the World, while he could
+behold his _Imoinda_; and she despised Grandeur and Pomp, those Vanities
+of her Sex, when she could gaze on _Oroonoko_. He ador'd the very
+Cottage where she resided, and said, That little Inch of the World would
+give him more Happiness than all the Universe could do; and she vow'd it
+was a Palace, while adorned with the Presence of _Oroonoko_.
+
+_Trefry_ was infinitely pleased with this Novel, and found this
+_Clemene_ was the fair Mistress of whom _C�sar_ had before spoke; and
+was not a little satisfy'd, that Heaven was so kind to the Prince as to
+sweeten his Misfortunes by so lucky an Accident; and leaving the Lovers
+to themselves, was impatient to come down to _Parham-House_ (which was
+on the same Plantation) to give me an Account of what had happened.
+I�was as impatient to make these Lovers a Visit, having already made
+a Friendship with _C�sar_, and from his own Mouth learned what I have
+related; which was confirmed by his _Frenchman_, who was set on shore
+to seek his Fortune, and of whom they could not make a Slave, because
+a Christian; and he came daily to _Parham-Hill_ to see and pay his
+Respects to his Pupil Prince. So that concerning and interesting myself
+in all that related to _C�sar_, whom I had assured of Liberty as soon
+as the Governour arrived, I�hasted presently to the Place where these
+Lovers were, and was infinitely glad to find this beautiful young
+Slave (who had already gain'd all our Esteems, for her Modesty and
+extraordinary Prettiness) to be the same I had heard _C�sar_ speak so
+much of. One may imagine then we paid her a treble Respect; and tho'
+from her being carved in fine Flowers and Birds all over her Body, we
+took her to be of Quality before, yet when we knew _Clemene_ was
+_Imoinda_, we could not enough admire her.
+
+I had forgot to tell you, that those who are nobly born of that Country,
+are so delicately cut and raised all over the Fore-part of the Trunk of
+their Bodies, that it looks as if it were japan'd, the Works being
+raised like high Point round the Edges of the Flowers. Some are only
+carved with a little Flower, or Bird, at the Sides of the Temples, as
+was _C�sar_; and those who are so carved over the Body, resemble our
+antient _Picts_ that are figur'd in the Chronicles, but these Carvings
+are more delicate.
+
+From that happy Day _C�sar_ took _Clemene_ for his Wife, to the general
+Joy of all People; and there was as much Magnificence as the Country
+could afford at the Celebration of this Wedding: And in a very short
+Time after she conceived with Child, which made _C�sar_ even adore her,
+knowing he was the last of his great Race. This new Accident made him
+more impatient of Liberty, and he was every Day treating with _Trefrey_
+for his and _Clemene's_ Liberty, and offer'd either Gold, or a vast
+Quantity of Slaves, which should be paid before they let him go,
+provided he could have any Security that he should go when his Ransom
+was paid. They fed him from Day to Day with Promises, and delay'd him
+till the Lord-Governor should come; so that he began to suspect them of
+Falshood, and that they would delay him till the Time of his Wife's
+Delivery, and make a Slave of the Child too; for all the Breed is theirs
+to whom the Parents belong. This Thought made him very uneasy, and his
+Sullenness gave them some Jealousies of him; so that I was obliged, by
+some Persons who fear'd a Mutiny (which is very fatal sometimes in those
+Colonies that abound so with Slaves, that they exceed the Whites in vast
+Numbers) to discourse with _C�sar_, and to give him all the Satisfaction
+I possibly could: They knew he and _Clemene_ were scarce an Hour in a
+Day from my Lodgings; that they eat with me, and that I oblig'd them in
+all Things I was capable. I�entertained them with the Lives of the
+_Romans_, and great Men, which charmed him to my Company; and her, with
+teaching her all the pretty Works that I was Mistress of, and telling
+her Stories of Nuns, and endeavouring to bring her to the Knowledge of
+the true God: But of all Discourses, _C�sar_ liked that the worst, and
+would never be reconciled to our Notions of the Trinity, of which he
+ever made a Jest; it was a Riddle he said would turn his Brain to
+conceive, and one could not make him understand what Faith was. However,
+these Conversations fail'd not altogether so well to divert him, that he
+liked the Company of us Women much above the Men, for he could not
+drink, and he is but an ill Companion in that Country that cannot. So
+that obliging him to love us very well, we had all the Liberty of Speech
+with him, especially my self, whom he call'd his _Great Mistress_; and
+indeed my Word would go a great Way with him. For these Reasons I had
+Opportunity to take Notice to him, that he was not well pleased of late,
+as he used to be; was more retired and thoughtful; and told him, I�took
+it ill he should suspect we would break our Words with him, and not
+permit both him and _Clemene_ to return to his own Kingdom, which was
+not so long a Way, but when he was once on his Voyage he would quickly
+arrive there. He made me some Answers that shew'd a Doubt in him, which
+made me ask, what Advantage it would be to doubt? It would but give us a
+Fear of him, and possibly compel us to treat him so as I should be very
+loth to behold; that is, it might occasion his Confinement. Perhaps this
+was not so luckily spoke of me, for I perceiv'd he resented that Word,
+which I strove to soften again in vain: However, he assur'd me, that
+whatsoever Resolutions he should take, he would act nothing upon the
+_White_ People; and as for myself, and those upon that _Plantation_
+where he was, he would sooner forfeit his eternal Liberty, and Life
+itself, than lift his Hand against his greatest Enemy on that Place. He
+besought me to suffer no Fears upon his Account, for he could do nothing
+that Honour should not dictate; but he accused himself for having
+suffer'd Slavery so long; yet he charg'd that Weakness on Love alone,
+who was capable of making him neglect even Glory itself; and, for which,
+now he reproaches himself every Moment of the Day. Much more to this
+Effect he spoke, with an Air impatient enough to make me know he would
+not be long in Bondage; and tho' he suffer'd only the Name of a Slave,
+and had nothing of the Toil and Labour of one, yet that was sufficient
+to render him uneasy; and he had been too long idle, who us'd to be
+always in Action, and in Arms. He had a Spirit all rough and fierce, and
+that could not be tam'd to lazy Rest: And tho' all Endeavours were us'd
+to exercise himself in such Actions and Sports as this World afforded,
+as Running, Wrestling, Pitching the Bar, Hunting and Fishing, Chasing
+and Killing _Tygers_ of a monstrous Size, which this Continent affords
+in abundance; and wonderful _Snakes_, such as _Alexander_ is reported to
+have encounter'd at the River of _Amazons_, and which _C�sar_ took great
+Delight to overcome; yet these were not Actions great enough for his
+large Soul, which was still panting after more renown'd Actions.
+
+Before I parted that Day with him, I got, with much ado, a Promise from
+him to rest yet a little longer with Patience, and wait the Coming of
+the Lord Governour, who was every Day expected on our Shore: He assur'd
+me he would, and this Promise he desired me to know was given perfectly
+in Complaisance to me, in whom he had an entire Confidence.
+
+After this, I neither thought it convenient to trust him much out of our
+View, nor did the Country, who fear'd him; but with one Accord it was
+advis'd to treat him fairly, and oblige him to remain within such a
+Compass, and that he should be permitted, as seldom as could be, to go
+up to the Plantations of the _Negroes_; or, if he did, to be accompany'd
+by some that should be rather, in Appearance, Attendants than Spies.
+This Care was for some time taken, and _C�sar_ look'd upon it as a Mark
+of extraordinary Respect, and was glad his Discontent had oblig'd 'em to
+be more observant to him; he received new Assurance from the Overseer,
+which was confirmed to him by the Opinion of all the Gentlemen of the
+Country, who made their Court to him. During this Time that we had his
+Company more frequently than hitherto we had had, it may not be
+unpleasant to relate to you the Diversions we entertain'd him with, or
+rather he�us.
+
+My Stay was to be short in that Country; because my Father dy'd at Sea,
+and never arriv'd to possess the Honour design'd him, (which was
+Lieutenant-General of six and thirty Islands, besides the Continent of
+_Surinam_) nor the Advantages he hop'd to reap by them: So that though
+we were oblig'd to continue on our Voyage, we did not intend to stay
+upon the Place. Though, in a Word, I�must say thus much of it; That
+certainly had his late Majesty, of sacred Memory, but seen and known
+what a vast and charming World he had been Master of in that Continent,
+he would never have parted so easily with it to the _Dutch_. 'Tis a
+Continent, whose vast Extent was never yet known, and may contain more
+noble Earth than all the Universe beside; for, they say, it reaches from
+East to West one Way as far as _China_, and another to _Peru_: It
+affords all Things, both for Beauty and Use; 'tis there eternal Spring,
+always the very Months of _April_, _May_, and _June_; the Shades are
+perpetual, the Trees bearing at once all Degrees of Leaves, and Fruit,
+from blooming Buds to ripe Autumn: Groves of Oranges, Lemons, Citrons,
+Figs, Nutmegs, and noble Aromaticks, continually bearing their
+Fragrancies: The Trees appearing all like Nosegays, adorn'd with Flowers
+of different Kinds; some are all White, some Purple, some Scarlet, some
+Blue, some Yellow; bearing at the same Time ripe Fruit, and blooming
+young, or producing every Day new. The very Wood of all these Trees has
+an intrinsic Value, above common Timber; for they are, when cut, of
+different Colours, glorious to behold, and bear a Price considerable, to
+inlay withal. Besides this, they yield rich Balm, and Gums; so that we
+make our Candles of such an aromatic Substance, as does not only give a
+sufficient Light, but as they burn, they cast their Perfumes all about.
+Cedar is the common Firing, and all the Houses are built with it. The
+very Meat we eat, when set on the Table, if it be native, I�mean of the
+Country, perfumes the whole Room; especially a little Beast call'd an
+_Armadillo_, a Thing which I can liken to nothing so well as a
+_Rhinoceros_; 'tis all in white Armour, so jointed, that it moves as
+well in it, as if it had nothing on: This Beast is about the Bigness of
+a Pig of six Weeks old. But it were endless to give an Account of all
+the divers wonderful and strange Things that Country affords, and which
+we took a great Delight to go in Search of; tho' those Adventures are
+oftentimes fatal, and at least dangerous: But while we had _C�sar_ in
+our Company on these Designs, we fear'd no Harm, nor suffer'd any.
+
+As soon as I came into the Country, the best House in it was presented
+me, call'd _St. John's Hill_: It stood on a vast Rock of white Marble,
+at the Foot of which, the River ran a vast Depth down, and not to be
+descended on that Side; the little Waves still dashing and washing the
+Foot of this Rock, made the softest Murmurs and Purlings in the World;
+and the opposite Bank was adorn'd with such vast Quantities of different
+Flowers eternally blowing, and every Day and Hour new, fenc'd behind 'em
+with lofty Trees of a thousand rare Forms and Colours, that the Prospect
+was the most ravishing that Sands can create. On the Edge of this white
+Rock, towards the River, was a Walk, or Grove, of Orange and
+Lemon-Trees, about half the Length of the _Mall_ here, whose flowery and
+Fruit-bearing Branches met at the Top, and hinder'd the Sun, whose Rays
+are very fierce there, from entring a Beam into the Grove; and the cool
+Air that came from the River, made it not only fit to entertain People
+in, at all the hottest Hours of the Day, but refresh the sweet Blossoms,
+and made it always sweet and charming; and sure, the whole Globe of the
+World cannot shew so delightful a Place as this Grove was: Not all the
+Gardens of boasted _Italy_ can produce a Shade to out-vie this, which
+Nature had join'd with Art to render so exceeding fine; and 'tis a
+Marvel to see how such vast Trees, as big as _English_ Oaks, could take
+Footing on so solid a Rock, and in so little Earth as cover'd that Rock:
+But all Things by Nature there are rare, delightful, and wonderful. But
+to our Sports.
+
+Sometimes we would go surprising, and in Search of young _Tygers_ in
+their Dens, watching when the old ones went forth to forage for Prey;
+and oftentimes we have been in great Danger, and have fled apace for our
+Lives, when surpriz'd by the Dams. But once, above all other Times, we
+went on this Design, and _C�sar_ was with us; who had no sooner stoln a
+young _Tyger_ from her Nest, but going off, we encounter'd the Dam,
+bearing a Buttock of a Cow, which she had torn off with her mighty Paw,
+and going with it towards her Den: We had only four Women, _C�sar_, and
+an _English_ Gentleman, Brother to _Harry Martin_ the great _Oliverian_;
+we found there was no escaping this enraged and ravenous Beast. However,
+we Women fled as fast as we could from it; but our Heels had not saved
+our Lives, if _C�sar_ had not laid down her _Cub_, when he found the
+_Tyger_ quit her Prey to make the more Speed towards him; and taking Mr.
+_Martin's_ Sword, desired him to stand aside, or follow the Ladies. He
+obey'd him; and _C�sar_ met this monstrous Beast of mighty Size, and
+vast Limbs, who came with open Jaws upon him; and fixing his aweful
+stern Eyes full upon those of the Beast, and putting himself into a very
+steady and good aiming Posture of Defence, ran his Sword quite through
+his Breast, down to his very Heart, home to the Hilt of the Sword: The
+dying Beast stretch'd forth her Paw, and going to grasp his Thigh,
+surpriz'd with Death in that very Moment, did him no other Harm than
+fixing her long Nails in his Flesh very deep, feebly wounded him, but
+could not grasp the Flesh to tear off any. When he had done this, he
+hallow'd to us to return; which, after some Assurance of his Victory, we
+did, and found him lugging out the Sword from the Bosom of the _Tyger_,
+who was laid in her Blood on the Ground. He took up the _Cub_, and with
+an Unconcern that had nothing of the Joy or Gladness of Victory, he came
+and laid the Whelp at my Feet. We all extremely wonder'd at his daring,
+and at the Bigness of the Beast, which was about the Height of an
+Heifer, but of mighty great and strong Limbs.
+
+Another time, being in the Woods, he kill'd a _Tyger_, that had long
+infested that Part, and borne away abundance of Sheep and Oxen, and
+other Things, that were for the Support of those to whom they belong'd.
+Abundance of People assail'd this Beast, some affirming they had shot
+her with several Bullets quite through the Body at several times; and
+some swearing they shot her through the very Heart; and they believed
+she was a Devil, rather than a mortal Thing. _C�sar_ had often said, he
+had a Mind to encounter this Monster, and spoke with several Gentlemen
+who had attempted her; one crying, I�shot her with so many poison'd
+Arrows, another with his Gun in this Part of her, and another in that;
+so that he remarking all the Places where she was shot, fancy'd still he
+should overcome her, by giving her another Sort of a Wound than any had
+yet done; and one Day said (at�the Table), 'What Trophies and Garlands,
+Ladies, will you make me, if I bring you home the Heart of this ravenous
+Beast, that eats up all your Lambs and Pigs?' We all promis'd he should
+be rewarded at our Hands. So taking a Bow, which he chose out of a great
+many, he went up into the Wood, with two Gentlemen, where he imagin'd
+this Devourer to be. They had not pass'd very far into it, but they
+heard her Voice, growling and grumbling, as if she were pleas'd with
+something she was doing. When they came in View, they found her muzzling
+in the Belly of a new ravish'd Sheep, which she had torn open; and
+seeing herself approach'd, she took fast hold of her Prey with her fore
+Paws, and set a very fierce raging Look on _C�sar_, without offering to
+approach him, for Fear at the same Time of loosing what she had in
+Possession: So that _C�sar_ remain'd a good while, only taking Aim, and
+getting an Opportunity to shoot her where he design'd. 'Twas some Time
+before he could accomplish it; and to wound her, and not kill her, would
+but have enrag'd her the more, and endanger'd him. He had a Quiver of
+Arrows at his Side, so that if one fail'd, he could be supply'd: At
+last, retiring a little, he gave her Opportunity to eat, for he found
+she was ravenous, and fell to as soon as she saw him retire, being more
+eager of her Prey, than of doing new Mischiefs; when he going softly to
+one Side of her, and hiding his Person behind certain Herbage, that grew
+high and thick, he took so good Aim, that, as he intended, he shot her
+just into the Eye, and the Arrow was sent with so good a Will, and so
+sure a Hand, that it stuck in her Brain, and made her caper, and become
+mad for a Moment or two; but being seconded by another Arrow, she fell
+dead upon the Prey. _C�sar_ cut her open with a Knife, to see where
+those Wounds were that had been reported to him, and why she did not die
+of 'em. But I shall now relate a Thing that, possibly, will find no
+Credit among Men; because 'tis a Notion commonly receiv'd with us, That
+nothing can receive a Wound in the Heart, and live: But when the Heart
+of this courageous Animal was taken out, there were seven Bullets of
+Lead in it, the Wound seam'd up with great Scars, and she liv'd with the
+Bullets a great While, for it was long since they were shot: This Heart
+the Conqueror brought up to us, and 'twas a very great Curiosity, which
+all the Country came to see; and which gave _C�sar_ Occasion of many
+fine Discourses of Accidents in War, and strange Escapes.
+
+At other times he would go a Fishing; and discoursing on that Diversion,
+he found we had in that Country a very strange Fish, call'd a
+_Numb-Eel_, (an�_Eel_ of which I have eaten) that while it is alive, it
+has a Quality so cold, that those who are angling, tho' with a Line of
+ever so great a Length, with a Rod at the End of it, it shall in the
+same Minute the Bait is touch'd by this _Eel_, seize him or her that
+holds the Rod with a Numbness, that shall deprive 'em of Sense for a
+While; and some have fallen into the Water, and others drop'd, as dead,
+on the Banks of the Rivers where they stood, as soon as this Fish
+touches the Bait. _C�sar_ us'd to laugh at this, and believ'd it
+impossible a Man could lose his Force at the Touch of a Fish; and could
+not understand that Philosophy, that a cold Quality should be of that
+Nature; however, he had a great Curiosity to try whether it would have
+the same Effect on him it had on others, and often try'd, but in vain.
+At last, the sought-for Fish came to the Bait, as he stood angling on
+the Bank; and instead of throwing away the Rod, or giving it a sudden
+Twitch out of the Water, whereby he might have caught both the _Eel_,
+and have dismiss'd the Rod, before it could have too much Power over
+him; for Experiment-sake, he grasp'd it but the harder, and fainting,
+fell into the River; and being still possess'd of the Rod, the Tide
+carry'd him, senseless as he was, a�great Way, till an _Indian_ Boat
+took him up; and perceiv'd, when they touch'd him, a�Numbness seize
+them, and by that knew the Rod was in his Hand; which with a Paddle,
+(that is a short Oar) they struck away, and snatch'd it into the Boat,
+_Eel_ and all. If _C�sar_ was almost dead, with the Effect of this Fish,
+he was more so with that of the Water, where he had remain'd the Space
+of going a League, and they found they had much ado to bring him back to
+Life; but at last they did, and brought him home, where he was in a few
+Hours well recover'd and refresh'd, and not a little asham'd to find he
+should be overcome by an _Eel_, and that all the People, who heard his
+Defiance, would laugh at him. But we chear'd him up; and he being
+convinc'd, we had the _Eel_ at Supper, which was a quarter of an Ell
+about, and most delicate Meat; and was of the more Value, since it cost
+so dear as almost the Life of so gallant a Man.
+
+About this Time we were in many mortal Fears, about some Disputes the
+_English_ had with the _Indians_; so that we could scarce trust our
+selves, without great Numbers, to go to any _Indian_ Towns, or Place
+where they abode, for fear they should fall upon us, as they did
+immediately after my coming away; and the Place being in the Possession
+of the _Dutch_, they us'd them not so civilly as the _English_; so that
+they cut in Pieces all they could take, getting into Houses and hanging
+up the Mother, and all her Children about her; and cut a Footman, I�left
+behind me, all in Joints, and nail'd him to Trees.
+
+This Feud began while I was there; so that I lost half the Satisfaction
+I propos'd, in not seeing and visiting the _Indian_ Towns. But one Day,
+bemoaning of our Misfortunes upon this Account, _C�sar_ told us, we need
+not fear, for if we had a Mind to go, he would undertake to be our
+Guard. Some would, but most would not venture: About eighteen of us
+resolv'd, and took Barge; and after eight Days, arriv'd near an _Indian_
+Town: But approaching it, the Hearts of some of our Company fail'd, and
+they would not venture on Shore; so we poll'd, who would, and who would
+not. For my Part, I�said, if _C�sar_ would, I�would go. He resolv'd; so
+did my Brother, and my Woman, a�Maid of good Courage. Now none of us
+speaking the Language of the People, and imagining we should have a half
+Diversion in gazing only; and not knowing what they said, we took a
+Fisherman that liv'd at the Mouth of the River, who had been a long
+Inhabitant there, and oblig'd him to go with us: But because he was
+known to the _Indians_, as trading among 'em, and being, by long living
+there, become a perfect _Indian_ in Colour, we, who had a Mind to
+surprize 'em, by making them see something they never had seen, (that
+is, _White_ People) resolv'd only my self, my Brother and Woman should
+go: So _C�sar_, the Fisherman, and the rest, hiding behind some thick
+Reeds and Flowers that grew in the Banks, let us pass on towards the
+Town, which was on the Bank of the River all along. A�little distant
+from the Houses, or Huts, we saw some dancing, others busy'd in fetching
+and carrying of Water from the River. They had no sooner spy'd us, but
+they set up a loud Cry, that frighted us at first; we thought it had
+been for those that should kill us, but it seems it was of Wonder and
+Amazement. They were all naked; and we were dress'd, so as is most
+commode for the hot Countries, very glittering and rich; so that we
+appear'd extremely fine; my own Hair was cut short, and I had a Taffety
+Cap, with black Feathers on my Head; my Brother was in a Stuff-Suit,
+with Silver Loops and Buttons, and abundance of green Ribbon. This was
+all infinitely surprising to them; and because we saw them stand still
+till we approach'd 'em, we took Heart and advanc'd, came up to 'em, and
+offer'd 'em our Hands; which they took, and look'd on us round about,
+calling still for more Company; who came swarming out, all wondering,
+and crying out _Tepeeme_; taking their Hair up in their Hands, and
+spreading it wide to those they call'd out to; as if they would say
+(as�indeed it signify'd) _Numberless Wonders_, or not to be recounted,
+no more than to number the Hair of their Heads. By Degrees they grew
+more bold, and from gazing upon us round, they touch'd us, laying their
+Hands upon all the Features of our Faces, feeling our Breasts, and Arms,
+taking up one Petticoat, then wondering to see another; admiring our
+Shoes and Stockings, but more our Garters, which we gave 'em, and they
+ty'd about their Legs, being lac'd with Silver Lace at the Ends; for
+they much esteem any shining Things. In fine, we suffer'd 'em to survey
+us as they pleas'd, and we thought they would never have done admiring
+us. When _C�sar_, and the rest, saw we were receiv'd with such Wonder,
+they came up to us; and finding the _Indian_ Trader whom they knew, (for
+'tis by these Fishermen, call'd _Indian_ Traders, we hold a Commerce
+with 'em; for they love not to go far from home, and we never go to
+them) when they saw him therefore, they set up a new Joy, and cry'd in
+their Language, _Oh, here's our +Tiguamy+, and we shall know whether
+those Things can speak._ So advancing to him, some of 'em gave him their
+Hands, and cry'd, _Amora Tiguamy_; which is as much as, _How do you do?_
+or, _Welcome Friend_; and all, with one din, began to gabble to him, and
+ask'd, if we had Sense and Wit? If we could talk of Affairs of Life and
+War, as they could do? If we could hunt, swim, and do a thousand Things
+they use? He answer'd 'em, We could. Then they invited us into their
+Houses, and dress'd Venison and Buffalo for us; and going out, gather'd
+a Leaf of a Tree, called a _Sarumbo_ Leaf, of six Yards long, and spread
+it on the Ground for a Table-Cloth; and cutting another in Pieces,
+instead of Plates, set us on little low _Indian_ Stools, which they cut
+out of one entire Piece of Wood, and paint in a sort of Japan-Work. They
+serve every one their Mess on these Pieces of Leaves; and it was very
+good, but too high-season'd with Pepper. When we had eat, my Brother and
+I took out our Flutes, and play'd to 'em, which gave 'em new Wonder; and
+I soon perceiv'd, by an Admiration that is natural to these People, and
+by the extreme Ignorance and Simplicity of 'em, it were not difficult to
+establish any unknown or extravagant Religion among them, and to impose
+any Notions or Fictions upon 'em. For seeing a Kinsman of mine set some
+Paper on Fire with a Burning-Glass, a�Trick they had never before seen,
+they were like to have ador'd him for a God, and begg'd he would give
+'em the Characters or Figures of his Name, that they might oppose it
+against Winds and Storms: which he did, and they held it up in those
+Seasons, and fancy'd it had a Charm to conquer them, and kept it like a
+holy Relique. They are very superstitious, and call'd him the Great
+_Peeie_, that is, _Prophet_. They shewed us their _Indian Peeie_, a
+Youth of about sixteen Years old, as handsome as Nature could make a
+Man. They consecrate a beautiful Youth from his Infancy, and all Arts
+are used to compleat him in the finest Manner, both in Beauty and Shape:
+He is bred to all the little Arts and Cunning they are capable of; to
+all the legerdemain Tricks, and Slight of Hand, whereby he imposes on
+the Rabble; and is both a Doctor in Physick and Divinity: And by these
+Tricks makes the Sick believe he sometimes eases their Pains, by drawing
+from the afflicted Part little Serpents, or odd Flies, or Worms, or any
+strange Thing; and though they have besides undoubted good Remedies for
+almost all their Diseases, they cure the Patient more by Fancy than by
+Medicines, and make themselves feared, loved, and reverenced. This young
+_Peeie_ had a very young Wife, who seeing my Brother kiss her, came
+running and kiss'd me. After this they kiss'd one another, and made it a
+very great Jest, it being so novel; and new Admiration and Laughing went
+round the Multitude, that they never will forget that Ceremony, never
+before us'd or known. _C�sar_ had a Mind to see and talk with their
+War-Captains, and we were conducted to one of their Houses, where we
+beheld several of the great Captains, who had been at Council: But so
+frightful a Vision it was to see 'em, no Fancy can create; no sad Dreams
+can represent so dreadful a Spectacle. For my Part, I�took 'em for
+Hobgoblins, or Fiends, rather than Men; But however their Shapes
+appear'd, their Souls were very humane and noble; but some wanted their
+Noses, some their Lips, some both Noses and Lips, some their Ears, and
+others cut through each Cheek, with long Slashes, through which their
+Teeth appear'd: They had several other formidable Wounds and Scars, or
+rather Dismembrings. They had _Comitias_, or little Aprons before them;
+and Girdles of Cotton, with their Knives naked stuck in it; a�Bow at
+their Back, and a Quiver of Arrows on their Thighs; and most had
+Feathers on their Heads of divers Colours. They cry'd _Amora Tiguamy_ to
+us, at our Entrance, and were pleas'd we said as much to them: They
+seated us, and gave us Drink of the best Sort, and wonder'd as much as
+the others had done before to see us. _C�sar_ was marvelling as much at
+their Faces, wondring how they should be all so wounded in War; he was
+impatient to know how they all came by those frightful Marks of Rage or
+Malice, rather than Wounds got in noble Battle: They told us by our
+Interpreter, That when any War was waging, two Men, chosen out by some
+old Captain whose fighting was past, and who could only teach the Theory
+of War, were to stand in Competition for the Generalship, or great
+War-Captain; and being brought before the old Judges, now past Labour,
+they are ask'd, What they dare do, to shew they are worthy to lead an
+Army? When he who is first ask'd, making no Reply, cuts off his Nose,
+and throws it contemptibly on the Ground; and the other does something
+to himself that he thinks surpasses him, and perhaps deprives himself of
+Lips and an Eye: So they slash on 'till one gives out, and many have
+dy'd in this Debate. And it's by a passive Valour they shew and prove
+their Activity; a�sort of Courage too brutal to be applauded by our
+_Black_ Hero; nevertheless, he express'd his Esteem of�'em.
+
+In this Voyage _C�sar_ begat so good an Understanding between the
+_Indians_ and the _English_, that there were no more Fears or
+Heart-burnings during our Stay, but we had a perfect, open, and free
+Trade with 'em. Many Things remarkable, and worthy reciting, we met with
+in this short Voyage; because _C�sar_ made it his Business to search out
+and provide for our Entertainment, especially to please his dearly
+ador'd _Imoinda_, who was a Sharer in all our Adventures; we being
+resolv'd to make her Chains as easy as we could, and to compliment the
+Prince in that Manner that most oblig'd him.
+
+As we were coming up again, we met with some _Indians_ of strange
+Aspects; that is, of a larger Size, and other sort of Features, than
+those of our Country. Our _Indian Slaves_, that row'd us, ask'd 'em some
+Questions; but they could not understand us, but shew'd us a long Cotton
+String, with several Knots on it, and told us, they had been coming from
+the Mountains so many Moons as there were Knots: they were habited in
+Skins of a strange Beast, and brought along with 'em Bags of Gold-Dust;
+which, as well as they could give as to understand, came streaming in
+little small Channels down the high Mountains, when the Rains fell; and
+offer'd to be the Convoy to any Body, or Persons, that would go to the
+Mountains. We carry'd these Men up to _Parham_, where they were kept
+till the Lord-Governor came: And because all the Country was mad to be
+going on this Golden Adventure, the Governor, by his Letters, commanded
+(for they sent some of the Gold to him) that a Guard should be set at
+the Mouth of the River of _Amazons_ (a�River so call'd, almost as broad
+as the River of _Thames_) and prohibited all People from going up that
+River, it conducting to those Mountains or Gold. But we going off for
+_England_ before the Project was further prosecuted, and the Governor
+being drown'd in a Hurricane, either the Design died, or the _Dutch_
+have the Advantage of it: And 'tis to be bemoan'd what his Majesty lost,
+by losing that Part of _America_.
+
+Though this Digression is a little from my Story, however, since it
+contains some Proofs of the Curiosity and Daring of this great Man,
+I�was content to omit nothing of his Character.
+
+It was thus for some Time we diverted him; but now _Imoinda_ began to
+shew she was with Child, and did nothing but sigh and weep for the
+Captivity of her Lord, herself, and the Infant yet unborn; and believ'd,
+if it were so hard to gain the Liberty of two, 'twould be more difficult
+to get that for three. Her Griefs were so many Darts in the great Heart
+of _C�sar_, and taking his Opportunity, one _Sunday_, when all the
+_Whites_ were overtaken in Drink, as there were abundance of several
+Trades, and _Slaves_ for four Years, that inhabited among the _Negro_
+Houses; and _Sunday_ being their Day of Debauch, (otherwise they were a
+sort of Spies upon _C�sar_) he went, pretending out of Goodness to 'em,
+to feast among 'em, and sent all his Musick, and order'd a great Treat
+for the whole Gang, about three hundred _Negroes_, and about an hundred
+and fifty were able to bear Arms, such as they had, which were
+sufficient to do Execution, with Spirits accordingly: For the _English_
+had none but rusty Swords, that no Strength could draw from a Scabbard;
+except the People of particular Quality, who took Care to oil 'em, and
+keep 'em in good Order: The Guns also, unless here and there one, or
+those newly carried from _England_, would do no Good or Harm; for 'tis
+the Nature of that Country to rust and eat up Iron, or any Metals but
+Gold and Silver. And they are very expert at the Bow, which the
+_Negroes_ and _Indians_ are perfect Masters�of.
+
+_C�sar_, having singled out these Men from the Women and Children, made
+an Harangue to 'em, of the Miseries and Ignominies of Slavery; counting
+up all their Toils and Sufferings, under such Loads, Burdens and
+Drudgeries, as were fitter for Beasts than Men; senseless Brutes, than
+human Souls. He told 'em, it was not for Days, Months or Years, but for
+Eternity; there was no End to be of their Misfortunes: They suffer'd not
+like Men, who might find a Glory and Fortitude in Oppression; but like
+Dogs, that lov'd the Whip and Bell, and fawn'd the more they were
+beaten: That they had lost the divine Quality of Men, and were become
+insensible Asses, fit only to bear: Nay, worse; an Ass, or Dog, or
+Horse, having done his Duty, could lie down in Retreat, and rise to work
+again, and while he did his Duty, endur'd no Stripes; but Men,
+villanous, senseless Men, such as they, toil'd on all the tedious Week
+'till _Black Friday_; and then, whether they work'd or not, whether they
+were faulty or meriting, they, promiscuously, the Innocent with the
+Guilty, suffer'd the infamous Whip, the sordid Stripes, from their
+Fellow-Slaves, 'till their Blood trickled from all Parts of their Body;
+Blood, whose every Drop ought to be revenged with a Life of some of
+those Tyrants that impose it. 'And why (_said�he_) my dear Friends and
+Fellow-sufferers, should we be Slaves to an unknown People? Have they
+vanquished us nobly in Fight? Have they won us in Honourable Battle? And
+are we by the Chance of War become their Slaves? This would not anger a
+noble Heart; this would not animate a Soldier's Soul: No, but we are
+bought and sold like Apes or Monkeys, to be the Sport of Women, Fools
+and Cowards; and the Support of Rogues and Runagades, that have
+abandoned their own Countries for Rapine, Murders, Theft and Villanies.
+Do you not hear every Day how they upbraid each other with Infamy of
+Life, below the wildest Salvages? And shall we render Obedience to such
+a degenerate Race, who have no one human Virtue left, to distinguish
+them from the vilest Creatures? Will you, I�say, suffer the Lash from
+such Hands?' _They all reply'd with one Accord_, 'No, No, No; _C�sar_
+has spoke like a great Captain, like a great King.'
+
+After this he would have proceeded, but was interrupted by a tall
+_Negro_, of some more Quality than the rest, his Name was _Tuscan_; who
+bowing at the Feet of _C�sar_, cry'd, 'My Lord, we have listen'd with
+Joy and Attention to what you have said; and, were we only Men, would
+follow so great a Leader through the World: But O! consider we are
+Husbands and Parents too, and have Things more dear to us than Life; our
+Wives and Children, unfit for Travel in those unpassable Woods,
+Mountains and Bogs. We have not only difficult Lands to overcome, but
+Rivers to wade, and Mountains to encounter; ravenous Beasts of
+Prey,'--_To this +C�sar+ reply'd_, 'That Honour was the first Principle
+in Nature, that was to be obey'd; but as no Man would pretend to that,
+without all the Acts of Virtue, Compassion, Charity, Love, Justice and
+Reason, he found it not inconsistent with that, to take equal Care of
+their Wives and Children as they would of themselves; and that he did
+not design, when he led them to Freedom, and glorious Liberty, that they
+should leave that better Part of themselves to perish by the Hand of the
+Tyrant's Whip: But if there were a Woman among them so degenerate from
+Love and Virtue, to chuse Slavery before the Pursuit of her Husband, and
+with the Hazard of her Life, to share with him in his Fortunes; that
+such a one ought to be abandoned, and left as a Prey to the common
+Enemy.'
+
+To which they all agreed--and bowed. After this, he spoke of the
+impassable Woods and Rivers; and convinced them, the more Danger the
+more Glory. He told them, that he had heard of one _Hannibal_, a great
+Captain, had cut his Way through Mountains of solid Rocks; and should a
+few Shrubs oppose them, which they could fire before 'em? No, 'twas a
+trifling Excuse to Men resolved to die, or overcome. As for Bogs, they
+are with a little Labour filled and harden'd; and the Rivers could be no
+Obstacle, since they swam by Nature, at least by Custom, from the first
+Hour of their Birth: That when the Children were weary, they must carry
+them by Turns, and the Woods and their own Industry would afford them
+Food. To this they all assented with Joy.
+
+_Tuscan_ then demanded, what he would do: He said he would travel
+towards the Sea, plant a new Colony, and defend it by their Valour; and
+when they could find a Ship, either driven by Stress of Weather, or
+guided by Providence that Way, they would seize it, and make it a Prize,
+till it had transported them to their own Countries: at least they
+should be made free in his Kingdom, and be esteem'd as his
+Fellow-Sufferers, and Men that had the Courage and the Bravery to
+attempt, at least, for Liberty; and if they died in the Attempt, it
+would be more brave, than to live in perpetual Slavery.
+
+They bow'd and kiss'd his Feet at this Resolution, and with one Accord
+vow'd to follow him to Death; and that Night was appointed to begin
+their March. They made it known to their Wives, and directed them to tie
+their Hamocks about their Shoulders, and under their Arms, like a Scarf
+and to lead their Children that could go, and carry those that could
+not. The Wives, who pay an entire Obedience to their Husbands, obey'd,
+and stay'd for 'em where they were appointed: The Men stay'd but to
+furnish themselves with what defensive Arms they could get; and all met
+at the Rendezvouz, where _C�sar_ made a new encouraging Speech to 'em
+and led 'em out.
+
+But as they could not march far that Night, on _Monday_ early, when the
+Overseers went to call 'em all together, to go to work, they were
+extremely surprized, to find not one upon the Place, but all fled with
+what Baggage they had. You may imagine this News was not only suddenly
+spread all over the Plantation, but soon reached the neighbouring ones;
+and we had by Noon about 600 Men, they call the Militia of the Country,
+that came to assist us in the Pursuit of the Fugitives: But never did
+one see so comical an Army march forth to War. The Men of any Fashion
+would not concern themselves, tho' it were almost the Common Cause; for
+such Revoltings are very ill Examples, and have very fatal Consequences
+oftentimes, in many Colonies: But they had a Respect for _C�sar_, and
+all Hands were against the _Parhamites_ (as�they called those of
+_Parham-Plantation_) because they did not in the first Place love the
+Lord-Governor; and secondly, they would have it that _C�sar_ was ill
+used, and baffled with: and 'tis not impossible but some of the best in
+the Country was of his Council in this Flight, and depriving us of all
+the Slaves; so that they of the better sort would not meddle in the
+Matter. The Deputy-Governor, of whom I have had no great Occasion to
+speak, and who was the most fawning fair-tongu'd Fellow in the World,
+and one that pretended the most Friendship to _C�sar_, was now the only
+violent Man against him; and though he had nothing, and so need fear
+nothing, yet talked and looked bigger than any Man. He was a Fellow,
+whose Character is not fit to be mentioned with the worst of the Slaves:
+This Fellow would lead his Army forth to meet _C�sar_, or rather to
+pursue him. Most of their Arms were of those Sort of cruel Whips they
+call _Cat with nine Tails_; some had rusty useless Guns for Shew; others
+old Basket Hilts, whose Blades had never seen the Light in this Age; and
+others had long Staffs and Clubs. Mr. _Trefry_ went along, rather to be
+a Mediator than a Conqueror in such a Battle; for he foresaw and knew,
+if by fighting they put the _Negroes_ into Despair, they were a sort of
+sullen Fellows, that would drown or kill themselves before they would
+yield; and he advis'd that fair Means was best: But _Byam_ was one that
+abounded in his own Wit, and would take his own Measures.
+
+It was not hard to find these Fugitives; for as they fled, they were
+forced to fire and cut the Woods before 'em: So that Night or Day they
+pursu'd 'em by the Light they made, and by the Path they had cleared.
+But as soon as _C�sar_ found that he was pursu'd, he put himself in a
+Posture of Defence, placing all the Woman and Children in the Rear; and
+himself, with _Tuscan_ by his Side, or next to him, all promising to die
+or conquer. Encouraged thus, they never stood to parley, but fell on
+pell-mell upon the _English_, and killed some, and wounded a great many;
+they having Recourse to their Whips, as the best of their Weapons. And
+as they observed no Order, they perplexed the Enemy so sorely, with
+lashing 'em in the Eyes; and the Women and Children seeing their
+Husbands so treated, being of fearful and cowardly Dispositions, and
+hearing the _English_ cry out, _Yield and Live! Yield, and be Pardon'd!_
+they all ran in amongst their Husbands and Fathers, and hung about them,
+crying out, _Yield! Yield, and leave +C�sar+ to their Revenge_; that by
+Degrees the Slaves abandon'd _C�sar_, and left him only _Tuscan_ and his
+Heroick _Imoinda_, who grown as big as she was, did nevertheless press
+near her Lord, having a Bow and a Quiver full of poisoned Arrows, which
+she managed with such Dexterity, that she wounded several, and shot the
+Governor into the Shoulder; of which Wound he had like to have died, but
+that an _Indian_ Woman, his Mistress, sucked the Wound, and cleans'd it
+from the Venom: But however, he stir'd not from the Place till he had
+parly'd with _C�sar_, who he found was resolved to die fighting, and
+would not be taken; no more would _Tuscan_ or _Imoinda_. But he, more
+thirsting after Revenge of another Sort, than that of depriving him of
+Life, now made use of all his Art of Talking and Dissembling, and
+besought _C�sar_ to yield himself upon Terms which he himself should
+propose, and should be sacredly assented to, and kept by him. He told
+him, It was not that he any longer fear'd him, or could believe the
+Force of two Men, and a young Heroine, could overthrow all them, and
+with all the Slaves now on their Side also; but it was the vast Esteem
+he had for his Person, the Desire he had to serve so gallant a Man, and
+to hinder himself from the Reproach hereafter, of having been the
+Occasion of the Death of a Prince, whose Valour and Magnanimity deserved
+the Empire of the World. He protested to him, he looked upon his Action
+as gallant and brave, however tending to the Prejudice of his Lord and
+Master, who would by it have lost so considerable a Number of Slaves;
+that this Flight of his should be look'd on as a Heat of Youth, and a
+Rashness of a too forward Courage, and an unconsider'd Impatience of
+Liberty, and no more; and that he labour'd in vain to accomplish that
+which they would effectually perform as soon as any Ship arrived that
+would touch on his Coast: 'So that if you will be pleased
+(_continued�he_) to surrender yourself, all imaginable Respect shall be
+paid you; and your Self, your Wife and Child, if it be born here, shall
+depart free out of our Land.' But _C�sar_ would hear of no Composition;
+though _Byam_ urged, if he pursued and went on in his Design, he would
+inevitably perish, either by great Snakes, wild Beasts or Hunger; and he
+ought to have Regard to his Wife, whose Condition requir'd Ease, and not
+the Fatigues of tedious Travel, where she could not be secured from
+being devoured. But _C�sar_ told him, there was no Faith in the White
+men, or the Gods they ador'd; who instructed them in Principles so
+false, that honest Men could not live amongst them; though no People
+profess'd so much, none perform'd so little: That he knew what he had to
+do when he dealt with Men of Honour; but with them a Man ought to be
+eternally on his Guard, and never to eat and drink with Christians,
+without his Weapon of Defence in his Hand; and, for his own Security,
+never to credit one Word they spoke. As for the Rashness and
+Inconsiderateness of his Action, he would confess the Governor is in the
+right; and that he was ashamed of what he had done in endeavouring to
+make those free, who were by Nature Slaves, poor wretched Rogues, fit to
+be used as Christian Tools; Dogs, treacherous and cowardly, fit for such
+Masters; and they wanted only but to be whipped into the Knowledge of
+the Christian Gods, to be the vilest of all creeping Things; to learn to
+worship such Deities as had not Power to make them just, brave, or
+honest: In fine, after a thousand Things of this Nature, not fit here to
+be recited, he told _Byam_, He had rather die, than live upon the same
+Earth with such Dogs. But _Trefry_ and _Byam_ pleaded and protested
+together so much, that _Trefry_ believing the Governor to mean what he
+said, and speaking very cordially himself, generously put himself into
+_C�sar's_ Hands, and took him aside, and persuaded him, even with Tears,
+to live, by surrendring himself, and to name his Conditions. _C�sar_ was
+overcome by his Wit and Reasons, and in Consideration of _Imoinda_; and
+demanding what he desired, and that it should be ratify'd by their Hands
+in Writing, because he had perceived that was the common Way of Contract
+between Man and Man amongst the Whites; all this was performed, and
+_Tuscan's_ Pardon was put in, and they surrender'd to the Governor, who
+walked peaceably down into the Plantation with them, after giving Order
+to bury their Dead. _C�sar_ was very much toil'd with the Bustle of the
+Day, for he had fought like a Fury; and what Mischief was done, he and
+_Tuscan_ performed alone; and gave their Enemies a fatal Proof, that
+they durst do any Thing, and fear'd no mortal Force.
+
+But they were no sooner arrived at the Place where all the Slaves
+receive their Punishments of Whipping, but they laid Hands on _C�sar_
+and _Tuscan_, faint with Heat and Toil; and surprizing them, bound them
+to two several Stakes, and whipped them in a most deplorable and inhuman
+Manner, rending the very Flesh from their Bones, especially _C�sar_, who
+was not perceived to make any Moan, or to alter his Face, only to roll
+his Eyes on the faithless Governor, and those he believed Guilty, with
+Fierceness and Indignation; and to complete his Rage, he saw every one
+of those Slaves who but a few Days before ador'd him as something more
+than Mortal, now had a Whip to give him some Lashes, while he strove not
+to break his Fetters; tho' if he had, it were impossible: but he
+pronounced a Woe and Revenge from his Eyes, that darted Fire, which was
+at once both aweful and terrible to behold.
+
+When they thought they were sufficiently revenged on him, they unty'd
+him, almost fainting with Loss of Blood, from a thousand Wounds all over
+his Body; from which they had rent his Clothes, and led him bleeding and
+naked as he was, and loaded him all over with Irons; and then rubb'd his
+Wounds, to complete their Cruelty, with _Indian_ Pepper, which had like
+to have made him raving mad; and, in this Condition made him so fast to
+the Ground, that he could not stir, if his Pains and Wounds would have
+given him Leave. They spared _Imoinda_, and did not let her see this
+Barbarity committed towards her Lord, but carried her down to _Parham_,
+and shut her up; which was not in Kindness to her, but for Fear she
+should die with the Sight, or miscarry, and then they should lose a
+young Slave, and perhaps the Mother.
+
+You must know, that when the News was brought on _Monday_ Morning, that
+_C�sar_ had betaken himself to the Woods, and carry'd with him all the
+_Negroes_, we were possess'd with extreme Fear, which no Persuasions
+could dissipate, that he would secure himself till Night, and then would
+come down and cut all our Throats. This Apprehension made all the
+Females of us fly down the River, to be secured; and while we were away,
+they acted this Cruelty; for I suppose I had Authority and Interest
+enough there, had I suspected any such Thing, to have prevented it: but
+we had not gone many Leagues, but the News overtook us, that _C�sar_ was
+taken and whipped liked a common Slave. We met on the River with Colonel
+_Martin_, a Man of great Gallantry, Wit, and Goodness, and whom I have
+celebrated in a Character of my new Comedy, by his own Name, in Memory
+of so brave a Man: He was wise and eloquent, and, from the Fineness of
+his Parts, bore a great Sway over the Hearts of all the Colony: He was a
+Friend to _C�sar_, and resented this false Dealing with him very much.
+We carried him back to _Parham_, thinking to have made an Accommodation;
+when he came, the first News we heard, was, That the Governor was dead
+of a Wound _Imoinda_ had given him; but it was not so well. But it
+seems, he would have the Pleasure of beholding the Revenge he took on
+_C�sar_; and before the cruel Ceremony was finished, he dropt down; and
+then they perceived the Wound he had on his Shoulder was by a venom'd
+Arrow, which, as I said, his _Indian_ Mistress healed by sucking the
+Wound.
+
+We were no sooner arrived, but we went up to the Plantation to see
+_C�sar_; whom we found in a very miserable and unexpressible Condition;
+and I have a thousand Times admired how he lived in so much tormenting
+Pain. We said all Things to him, that Trouble, Pity and Good-Nature
+could suggest, protesting our Innocency of the Fact, and our Abhorrence
+of such Cruelties; making a thousand Professions and Services to him,
+and begging as many Pardons for the Offenders, till we said so much,
+that he believed we had no Hand in his ill Treatment; but told us, He
+could never pardon _Byam_; as for _Trefry_, he confess'd he saw his
+Grief and Sorrow for his Suffering, which he could not hinder, but was
+like to have been beaten down by the very Slaves, for speaking in his
+Defence: But for _Byam_, who was their Leader, their Head--and should,
+by his Justice and Honour, have been an Example to 'em--for him, he
+wished to live to take a dire Revenge of him; and said, _It had been
+well for him, if he had sacrificed me, instead of giving me the
+comtemptible Whip._ He refused to talk much; but begging us to give him
+our Hands, he took them, and protested never to lift up his to do us any
+Harm. He had a great Respect for Colonel _Martin_, and always took his
+Counsel like that of a Parent; and assured him, he would obey him in any
+Thing but his Revenge on _Byam_: 'Therefore (_said�he_) for his own
+Safety, let him speedly dispatch me; for if I could dispatch myself,
+I�would not, till that Justice were done to my injured Person, and the
+Contempt of a Soldier: No, I�would not kill myself, even after a
+Whipping, but will be content to live with that Infamy, and be pointed
+at by every grinning Slave, till I have completed my Revenge; and then
+you shall see, that _Oroonoko_ scorns to live with the Indignity that
+was put on _C�sar_.' All we could do, could get no more Words from him;
+and we took Care to have him put immediately into a healing Bath, to rid
+him of his Pepper, and ordered a Chirurgeon to anoint him with healing
+Balm, which he suffer'd, and in some Time he began to be able to walk
+and eat. We failed not to visit him every Day, and to that End had him
+brought to an Apartment at _Parham_.
+
+The Governor had no sooner recover'd, and had heard of the Menaces of
+_C�sar_, but he called his Council, who (not to disgrace them, or
+burlesque the Government there) consisted of such notorious Villains as
+_Newgate_ never transported; and, possibly, originally were such who
+understood neither the Laws of God or Man, and had no sort of Principles
+to make them worthy the Name of Men; but at the very Council-Table would
+contradict and fight with one another, and swear so bloodily, that 'twas
+terrible to hear and see 'em. (Some of 'em were afterwards hanged, when
+the _Dutch_ took Possession of the Place, others sent off in Chains.)
+But calling these special Rulers of the Nation together, and requiring
+their Counsel in this weighty Affair, they all concluded, that (damn
+'em) it might be their own Cases; and that _C�sar_ ought to be made an
+Example to all the _Negroes_, to fright 'em from daring to threaten
+their Betters, their Lords and Masters; and at this Rate no Man was safe
+from his own Slaves; and concluded, _nemine contradicente_, That _C�sar_
+should be hanged.
+
+_Trefry_ then thought it Time to use his Authority, and told _Byam_, his
+Command did not extend to his Lord's Plantation; and that _Parham_ was
+as much exempt from the Law as _White-Hall_; and that they ought no more
+to touch the Servants of the Lord--(who there represented the King's
+Person) than they could those about the King himself; and that _Parham_
+was a Sanctuary; and tho' his Lord were absent in Person, his Power was
+still in being there, which he had entrusted with him, as far as the
+Dominions of his particular Plantations reached, and all that belonged
+to it; the rest of the Country, as _Byam_ was Lieutenant to his Lord, he
+might exercise his Tyranny upon. _Trefry_ had others as powerful, or
+more, that interested themselves in _C�sar's_ Life, and absolutely said,
+he should be defended. So turning the Governor, and his wise Council,
+out of Doors, (for they sat at _Parham-House_) we set a Guard upon our
+Lodging-Place, and would admit none but those we called Friends to us
+and _C�sar_.
+
+The Governor having remain'd wounded at _Parham_, till his Recovery was
+completed, _C�sar_ did not know but he was still there, and indeed for
+the most Part, his Time was spent there: for he was one that loved to
+live at other Peoples Expence, and if he were a Day absent, he was ten
+present there; and us'd to play, and walk, and hunt, and fish with
+_C�sar_: So that _C�sar_ did not at all doubt, if he once recover'd
+Strength, but he should find an Opportunity of being revenged on him;
+though, after such a Revenge, he could not hope to live: for if he
+escaped the Fury of the _English_ Mobile, who perhaps would have been
+glad of the Occasion to have killed him, he was resolved not to survive
+his Whipping; yet he had some tender Hours, a�repenting Softness, which
+he called his Fits of Cowardice, wherein he struggled with Love for the
+Victory of his Heart, which took Part with his charming _Imoinda_ there;
+but for the most Part, his Time was pass'd in melancholy Thoughts, and
+black Designs. He consider'd, if he should do this Deed, and die either
+in the Attempt, or after it, he left his lovely _Imoinda_ a Prey, or at
+best a Slave to the enraged Multitude; his great Heart could not endure
+that Thought: _Perhaps_ (said�he) _she may be first ravish'd by every
+Brute; expos'd first to their nasty Lusts, and then a shameful Death_:
+No, he could not live a Moment under that Apprehension, too
+insupportable to be borne. These were his Thoughts, and his silent
+Arguments with his Heart, as he told us afterwards: So that now
+resolving not only to kill _Byam_, but all those he thought had enraged
+him; pleasing his great Heart with the fancy'd Slaughter he should make
+over the whole Face of the Plantation; he first resolved on a Deed,
+(that however horrid it first appear'd to us all) when we had heard his
+Reasons, we thought it brave and just. Being able to walk, and, as he
+believed, fit for the Execution of his great Design, he begg'd _Trefry_
+to trust him into the Air, believing a Walk would do him good; which was
+granted him; and taking _Imoinda_ with him, as he used to do in his more
+happy and calmer Days, he led her up into a Wood, where (after with a
+thousand Sighs, and long gazing silently on her Face, while Tears
+gush'd, in spite of him, from his Eyes) he told her his Design, first of
+killing her, and then his Enemies, and next himself, and the
+Impossibility of escaping, and therefore he told her the Necessity of
+dying. He found the heroick Wife faster pleading for Death, than he was
+to propose it, when she found his fix'd Resolution; and, on her Knees,
+besought him not to leave her a Prey to his Enemies. He (grieved to
+Death) yet pleased at her noble Resolution, took her up, and embracing
+of her with all the Passion and Languishment of a dying Lover, drew his
+Knife to kill this Treasure of his Soul, this Pleasure of his Eyes;
+while Tears trickled down his Cheeks, hers were smiling with Joy she
+should die by so noble a Hand, and be sent into her own Country (for
+that's their Notion of the next World) by him she so tenderly loved, and
+so truly ador'd in this: For Wives have a Respect for their Husbands
+equal to what any other People pay a Deity; and when a Man finds any
+Occasion to quit his Wife, if he love her, she dies by his Hand; if not,
+he sells her, or suffers some other to kill her. It being thus, you may
+believe the Deed was soon resolv'd on; and 'tis not to be doubted, but
+the parting, the eternal Leave-taking of two such Lovers, so greatly
+born, so sensible, so beautiful, so young, and so fond, must be very
+moving, as the Relation of it was to me afterwards.
+
+All that Love could say in such Cases, being ended, and all the
+intermitting Irresolutions being adjusted, the lovely, young and ador'd
+Victim lays herself down before the Sacrificer; while he, with a Hand
+resolved, and a Heart-breaking within, gave the fatal Stroke, first
+cutting her Throat, and then severing her yet smiling Face from that
+delicate Body, pregnant as it was with the Fruits of tenderest Love. As
+soon as he had done, he laid the Body decently on Leaves and Flowers, of
+which he made a Bed, and conceal'd it under the same Cover-lid of
+Nature; only her Face he left yet bare to look on: But when he found she
+was dead, and past all Retrieve, never more to bless him with her Eyes,
+and soft Language, his Grief swell'd up to Rage; he tore, he rav'd, he
+roar'd like some Monster of the Wood, calling on the lov'd Name of
+_Imoinda_. A thousand Times he turned the fatal Knife that did the Deed
+towards his own Heart, with a Resolution to go immediately after her;
+but dire Revenge, which was now a thousand Times more fierce in his Soul
+than before, prevents him; and he would cry out, 'No, since I have
+sacrific'd _Imoinda_ to my Revenge, shall I lose that Glory which I have
+purchased so dear, as at the Price of the fairest, dearest, softest
+Creature that ever Nature made? No, no!' Then at her Name Grief would
+get the Ascendant of Rage, and he would lie down by her Side, and water
+her Face with Showers of Tears, which never were wont to fall from those
+Eyes; and however bent he was on his intended Slaughter, he had not
+Power to stir from the Sight of this dear Object, now more beloved, and
+more ador'd than ever.
+
+He remained in this deplorable Condition for two Days, and never rose
+from the Ground where he had made her sad Sacrifice; at last rouzing
+from her Side, and accusing himself with living too long, now _Imoinda_
+was dead, and that the Deaths of those barbarous Enemies were deferred
+too long, he resolved now to finish the great Work: but offering to
+rise, he found his Strength so decay'd, that he reeled to and fro, like
+Boughs assailed by contrary Winds; so that he was forced to lie down
+again, and try to summon all his Courage to his Aid. He found his Brains
+turned round, and his Eyes were dizzy, and Objects appear'd not the same
+to him they were wont to do; his Breath was short, and all his Limbs
+surpriz'd with a Faintness he had never felt before. He had not eat in
+two Days, which was one Occasion of his Feebleness, but Excess of Grief
+was the greatest; yet still he hoped he should recover Vigour to act his
+Design, and lay expecting it yet six Days longer; still mourning over
+the dead Idol of his Heart, and striving every Day to rise, but could
+not.
+
+In all this time you may believe we were in no little Affliction for
+_C�sar_ and his Wife; some were of Opinion he was escaped, never to
+return; others thought some Accident had happened to him: But however,
+we fail'd not to send out a hundred People several Ways, to search for
+him. A�Party of about forty went that Way he took, among whom was
+_Tuscan_, who was perfectly reconciled to _Byam_: They had not gone
+very far into the Wood, but they smelt an unusual Smell, as of a dead
+Body; for Stinks must be very noisom, that can be distinguish'd among
+such a Quantity of natural Sweets, as every Inch of that Land produces:
+so that they concluded they should find him dead, or some body that was
+so; they pass'd on towards it, as loathsom as it was, and made such
+rustling among the Leaves that lie thick on the Ground, by continual
+falling, that _C�sar_ heard he was approach'd; and though he had, during
+the Space of these eight Days, endeavour'd to rise, but found he wanted
+Strength, yet looking up, and seeing his Pursuers, he rose, and reel'd
+to a neighbouring Tree, against which he fix'd his Back; and being
+within a dozen Yards of those that advanc'd and saw him, he call'd out
+to them, and bid them approach no nearer, if they would be safe. So that
+they stood still, and hardly believing their Eyes, that would persuade
+them that it was _C�sar_ that spoke to them, so much he was alter'd;
+they ask'd him, what he had done with his Wife, for they smelt a Stink
+that almost struck them dead? He pointing to the dead Body, sighing,
+cry'd, _Behold her there._ They put off the Flowers that cover'd her,
+with their Sticks, and found she was kill'd, and cry'd out, _Oh,
+Monster! that hast murder'd thy Wife._ Then asking him, why he did so
+cruel a Deed? He reply'd, He had no Leisure to answer impertinent
+Questions: 'You may go back (_continued�he_) and tell the faithless
+Governor, he may thank Fortune that I am breathing my last; and that my
+Arm is too feeble to obey my Heart, in what it had design'd him': But
+his Tongue faultering, and trembling, he could scarce end what he was
+saying. The _English_ taking Advantage by his Weakness, cry'd, _Let us
+take him alive by all Means._ He heard 'em; and, as if he had reviv'd
+from a Fainting, or a Dream, he cried out, 'No, Gentlemen, you are
+deceived; you will find no more _C�sars_ to be whipt; no more find a
+Faith in me; Feeble as you think me, I�have Strength yet left to secure
+me from a second Indignity.' They swore all anew; and he only shook his
+Head, and beheld them with Scorn. Then they cry'd out, _Who will venture
+on this single Man? Will nobody?_ They stood all silent, while _C�sar_
+replied, _Fatal will be the Attempt of the first Adventurer, let him
+assure himself_, (and, at that Word, held up his Knife in a menacing
+Posture:) _Look ye, ye faithless Crew_, said he, _'tis not Life I seek,
+nor am I afraid of dying_, (and at that Word, cut a Piece of Flesh from
+his own Throat, and threw it at 'em) _yet still I would live if I could,
+till I had perfected my Revenge: But, oh! it cannot be; I�feel Life
+gliding from my Eyes and Heart; and if I make not haste, I�shall fall a
+Victim to the shameful Whip._ At that, he rip'd up his own Belly, and
+took his Bowels and pull'd 'em out, with what Strength he could; while
+some, on their Knees imploring, besought him to hold his Hand. But when
+they saw him tottering, they cry'd out, _Will none venture on him?_ A
+bold _Englishman_ cry'd, _Yes, if he were the Devil_, (taking Courage
+when he saw him almost dead) and swearing a horrid Oath for his farewel
+to the World, he rush'd on him. _C�sar_ with his arm'd Hand, met him so
+fairly, as stuck him to the Heart, and he Fell dead at his feet.
+_Tuscan_ seeing that, cry'd out, _I�love thee, O�+C�sar+! and therefore
+will not let thee die, if possible_; and running to him, took him in his
+Arms; but, at the same time, warding a Blow that _C�sar_ made at his
+Bosom, he receiv'd it quite through his Arm; and _C�sar_ having not
+Strength to pluck the Knife forth, tho' he attempted it, _Tuscan_
+neither pull'd it out himself, nor suffer'd it to be pull'd out, but
+came down with it sticking in his Arm; and the Reason he gave for it,
+was, because the Air should not get into the Wound. They put their Hands
+a-cross, and carry'd _C�sar_ between six of 'em, fainting as he was, and
+they thought dead, or just dying; and they brought him to _Parham_, and
+laid him on a Couch, and had the Chirurgeon immediately to him, who
+dressed his Wounds, and sow'd up his Belly, and us'd Means to bring him
+to Life, which they effected. We ran all to see him; and, if before we
+thought him so beautiful a Sight, he was now so alter'd, that his Face
+was like a Death's-Head black'd over, nothing but Teeth and Eye-holes:
+For some Days we suffer'd no Body to speak to him, but caused Cordials
+to be poured down his Throat; which sustained his Life, and in six or
+seven Days he recovered his Senses: For, you must know, that Wounds are
+almost to a Miracle cur'd in the _Indies_; unless Wounds in the Legs,
+which they rarely ever cure.
+
+When he was well enough to speak, we talk'd to him, and ask'd him some
+Questions about his Wife, and the Reasons why he kill'd her; and he then
+told us what I have related of that Resolution, and of his Parting, and
+he besought us we would let him die, and was extremely afflicted to
+think it was possible he might live: He assur'd us, if we did not
+dispatch him, he would prove very fatal to a great many. We said all we
+could to make him live, and gave him new Assurances; but he begg'd we
+would not think so poorly of him, or of his Love to _Imoinda_, to
+imagine we could flatter him to Life again: But the Chirurgeon assur'd
+him he could not live, and therefore he need not fear. We were all (but
+_C�sar_) afflicted at this News, and the Sight was ghastly: His
+Discourse was sad; and the earthy Smell about him so strong, that I was
+persuaded to leave the Place for some time, (being my self but sickly,
+and very apt to fall into Fits of dangerous Illness upon any
+extraordinary Melancholy.) The Servants, and _Trefry_, and the
+Chirurgeons, promis'd all to take what possible Care they could of the
+Life of _C�sar_; and I, taking Boat, went with other Company to Colonel
+_Martin's_, about three Days Journey down the River. But I was no sooner
+gone, than the Governor taking _Trefry_, about some pretended earnest
+Business, a�Day's Journey up the River, having communicated his Design
+to one _Banister_, a wild _Irish_ Man, one of the Council, a�Fellow of
+absolute Barbarity, and fit to execute any Villany, but rich; he came up
+to _Parham_, and forcibly took _C�sar_, and had him carried to the same
+Post where he was whipp'd; and causing him to be ty'd to it, and a great
+Fire made before him, he told him he should die like a Dog, as he was.
+_C�sar_ replied, This was the first piece of Bravery that ever
+_Banister_ did, and he never spoke Sense till he pronounc'd that Word;
+and if he would keep it, he would declare, in the other World, that he
+was the only Man, of all the _Whites_, that ever he heard speak Truth.
+And turning to the Men that had bound him, he said, _My Friends, am I to
+die, or to be whipt?_ And they cry'd, _Whipt! no, you shall not escape
+so well._ And then he reply'd, smiling, _A�Blessing on thee_; and
+assur'd them they need not tie him, for he would stand fix'd like a
+Rock, and endure Death so as should encourage them to die: _But if you
+whip me_ (said�he) _be sure you tie me fast_.
+
+He had learn'd to take Tobacco; and when he was assur'd he should die,
+he desir'd they would give him a Pipe in his Mouth, ready lighted; which
+they did: And the Executioner came, and first cut off his Members, and
+threw them into the Fire; after that, with an ill-favour'd Knife, they
+cut off his Ears and his Nose, and burn'd them; he still smoak'd on, as
+if nothing had touch'd him; then they hack'd off one of his Arms, and
+still he bore up and held his Pipe; but at the cutting off the other
+Arm, his Head sunk, and his Pipe dropt, and he gave up the Ghost,
+without a Groan, or a Reproach. My Mother and Sister were by him all the
+While, but not suffer'd to save him; so rude and wild were the Rabble,
+and so inhuman were the Justices who stood by to see the Execution, who
+after paid dear enough for their Insolence. They cut _C�sar_ into
+Quarters, and sent them to several of the chief Plantations: One Quarter
+was sent to Colonel _Martin_; who refus'd it, and swore, he had rather
+see the Quarters of _Banister_, and the Governor himself, than those of
+_C�sar_, on his Plantations; and that he could govern his _Negroes_,
+without terrifying and grieving them with frightful Spectacles of a
+mangled King.
+
+
+Thus died this great Man, worthy of a better Fate, and a more sublime
+Wit than mine to write his Praise: Yet, I�hope, the Reputation of my Pen
+is considerable enough to make his glorious Name to survive to all Ages,
+with that of the brave, the beautiful and the constant _Imoinda_.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: Oroonoko.
+
+
+p. 509 _Appendix. Oronooko: Epistle Dedicatory._ Richard Maitland,
+fourth Earl of Lauderdale (1653-95), eldest son of Charles, third Earl
+of Lauderdale by Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Richard Lauder of
+Halton, was born 20 June, 1653. Before his father succeeded to the
+Lauderdale title he was styled of Over-Gogar; after that event he
+was known as Lord Maitland. 9�October, 1678, he was sworn a Privy
+Councillor, and appointed Joint General of the Mint with his father.
+In 1681 he was made Lord Justice General, but deprived of that office
+three years later on account of suspected communications with his
+father-in-law, Argyll, who had fled to Holland in 1681. Maitland,
+however, was in truth a strong Jacobite, and refusing to accept the
+Revolution settlement became an exile with his King. He is said to have
+been present at the battle of the Boyne, 1�July, 1690. He resided for
+some time at St. Germains, but fell into disfavour, perhaps owing to the
+well-known protestant sympathies of his wife, Lady Agnes Campbell
+(1658-1734), second daughter of the fanatical Archibald, Earl of Argyll.
+From St. Germains Maitland retired to Paris, where he died in 1695. He
+had succeeded to the Earldom of Lauderdale 9 June, 1691, but was
+outlawed by the Court of Justiciary, 23 July, 1694. He left no issue.
+Lauderdale was the author of a verse translation of Virgil (8vo, 1718
+and 2 Vols., 12mo, 1737). Dryden, to whom he sent a MS. copy from Paris,
+states that whilst working on his own version he consulted this whenever
+a crux appeared in the Latin text. Lauderdale also wrote _A Memorial on
+the Estate of Scotland_ (about 1690), printed in Hooke's
+_Correspondence_ (Roxburghe Club), and there wrongly ascribed to the
+third Earl, his father.
+
+The Dedication only occurs in the first edition of _Oronooko_ (1688),
+of which I can trace but one copy. This is in the library of Mr. F.�F.
+Norcross of Chicago, whose brother-in-law, Mr. Harold B. Wrenn, most
+kindly transcribed and transmitted to me the Epistle Dedicatory. It,
+unfortunately, arrived too late for insertion at p. 129.
+
+p. 130 _I gave 'em to the King's Theatre._ Sir Robert Howard and
+Dryden's heroic tragedy, _The Indian Queen_, was produced at the Theatre
+Royal in mid-January, 1663. It is a good play, but the extraordinary
+success it attained was in no small measure due to the excellence and
+magnificence of the scenic effects and mounting. 27 January, Pepys
+noticed that the streets adjacent to the theatre were 'full of coaches
+at the new play _The Indian Queen_, which for show, they say, exceeds
+_Henry VIII_.' On 1 February he himself found it 'indeed a most pleasant
+show'. The grandeur of the _mise en sc�ne_ became long proverbial in
+theatrical history. Zempoalla, the Indian Queen, a�fine r�le, was
+superbly acted by Mrs. Marshall, the leading tragedienne of the day. The
+feathered ornaments which Mrs. Behn mentions must have formed a quaint
+but doubtless striking addition to the actress's pseudo-classic attire.
+Bernbaum pictures 'Nell Gwynn[5] in the true costume of a Carib belle',
+a�quite unfair deduction from Mrs. Behn's words.
+
+p. 168 _Osenbrigs._ More usually 'osnaburg', so named from Osnabr�ck in
+North Germany, a�kind of coarse linen made in this town. Narborough's
+Journal, 1669 (_An�Account of Several Late Voyages_, 1694), speaks of
+'Cloth, Osenbrigs, Tobacco'. cf. _Pennsylvania Col. Records_ (1732):
+'That to each there be given a couple of Shirts, a�Jackett, two pairs of
+trowsers of Oznabrigs.'
+
+p. 174 _as soon as the Governour arrived_. The Governor was Francis
+Willoughby, fifth Baron Willoughby of Parham (1613?-1666). He had
+arrived at Barbadoes, 29 April, 1650, and was received as Governor 7
+May, which same day he caused Charles II to be proclaimed. An ardent
+royalist, he was dispossessed by an Act of Parliament, 4�March, 1652,
+and summoned back to England. At the Restoration he was reinstated, and
+arrived the second time with full powers in Barbadoes, 10 August, 1663.
+About the end of July, 1666, he was lost at sea on board the good ship
+_Hope_.
+
+p. 177 _my Father . . . never arriv'd to possess the Honour design'd
+him._ Bernbaum, following the mistaken statement that Mrs. Behn's
+father, John Amis, was a barber, argues that a man in such a position
+could hardly have obtained so important a post, and if her 'father was
+not sent to Surinam, the only reason she gives for being there
+disappears.' However, since we know her father to have been no barber,
+but of good family, this line of discussion falls to the ground.
+
+p. 180 _Brother to Harry Martin the great Oliverian._ Henry, or Harry,
+and George Marten were the two sons of Sir Henry Marten (_ob._ 1641)
+and his first wife, Elizabeth, who died 19 June, 1618. For the elder
+brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note Vol. I, p.�457.
+
+p. 193 _The Deputy Governor._ William Byam was 'Lieutenant General of
+Guiana and Governor of Willoughby Land', 1661-7. Even previously to this
+he had gained no little influence and power in these colonies. He headed
+the forces that defended Surinam in 1667 against the Dutch Admiral
+Crynsens, who, however, proved victorious.
+
+p. 198 _my new Comedy. The Younger Brother; or, The Amorous Jilt_,
+posthumously produced under the auspices of, and with some alterations
+by, Charles Gildon at Drury Lane in 1696. George Marteen, acted by
+Powell, is the young and gallant hero of the comedy.
+
+p. 200 _his Council_. In _The Widow Ranter_ Mrs. Behn draws a vivid
+picture of these deboshed ruffians.
+
+p. 207 _one Banister_. Sergeant Major James Banister being, after
+Byam's departure in 1667, 'the only remaining eminent person' became
+Lieutenant-Governor. It was he who in 1668 made the final surrender of
+the colony. Later, having quarrelled with the Dutch he was imprisoned by
+them.
+
+    [Footnote 5: Nell Gwynne had no part in the play.]
+
+
+Cross-Reference from Critical Notes: _Oroonoko_
+
+Note to p. 180: For the elder brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note
+Vol. I, p.�457.
+
+  Vol. I, p. 457 note (referring to _The Roundheads_, V, ii):
+
+  p. 414 _Peters the first_, _Martin the Second_. Hugh Peters has been
+  noticed before. Henry Martin was an extreme republican, and at one
+  time even a Leveller. He was a commissioner of the High Court of
+  Justice and a regicide. At the Restoration he was imprisoned for
+  life and died at Chepstow Castle, 1681, aged seventy-eight. He was
+  notorious for profligacy and shamelessness, and kept a very seraglio
+  of mistresses.  [[The date "1681" is in the original.]]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+AGNES DE CASTRO.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+The 'sweet sentimental tragedy' of Agnes de Castro was founded by Mrs.
+Behn upon a work by Mlle S.�B. de Brillac, _Agn�s de Castro, nouvelle
+portugaise_ (1688), and various subsequent editions. In the same year
+(1688) as Mrs. Behn's _Agnes de Castro; or, The Force of Generous Blood_
+was published there appeared 'Two New Novels, i. _The Art of Making
+Love_.[1] ii. _The Fatal Beauty of Agnes de Castro_: Taken out of the
+History of Portugal. Translated from the French by P.�B.�G.[2] For
+R.�Bentley' (12mo). Each has a separate title page. Bellon's version
+does not differ materially from Mrs. Behn, but she far exceeds him in
+spirit and niceness of style.
+
+So much legend has surrounded the romantic history of the beautiful Ines
+de Castro that it is impossible fully to elucidate every detail of her
+life. Born in the early years of the fourteenth century, she was the
+daughter of Pedro Fernandez de Castro, major domo to Alphonso XI of
+Castille. She accompanied her relative, Dona Constan�a Manuel, daughter
+to the Duke of Pe�afiel, to the court of Alphonso IV of Portugal when
+this lady was to wed the Infante Don Pedro. Here Ines excited the
+fondest love in Pedro's heart and the passion was reciprocated. She bore
+him several children, and there can be no doubt that Dona Constan�a was
+madly jealous of her husband's amour with her fair friend. 13 November,
+1345, Constan�a died, and Pedro immediately married his mistress at
+Braganza in the presence of the Bishop of Guarda. Their nuptials were
+kept secret, and the old King kept pressing his son to take a wife.
+Before long his spies found out the reason of the Infante's constant
+refusals; and, beside himself with rage, he watched an opportunity
+whilst Pedro, on a great hunting expedition, was absent from Coimbra
+where they resided, and had Ines cruelly assassinated 7 January, 1355.
+The grief of Pedro was terrible, he plunged the country into civil war,
+and it was only by the tenderest solicitations of his mother and the
+authority of several holy monks and bishops that he was restrained from
+taking a terrible revenge upon his father. Alphonso died, his power
+curtailed, his end unhappy, May, 1357.
+
+A very literature has grown up around the lovely Ines, and many more
+than a hundred items of interest could be enumerated. The best authority
+is J.�de Araujo, whose monumental _Bibliographia Inesiana_ was published
+in 1897. Mrs. Behn's novel was immensely popular and is included, with
+some unnecessary moral observations as preface, in Mrs. Griffith's _A
+Collection of Novels_ (1777), Vol. III, which has a plate illustrating
+the tale. It was turned into French by Marie-Genevi�ve-Charlotte Tiroux
+d' Arconville (1720-1805), wife of a councillor of the Parliament, an
+aimable blue-stocking who devoted her life wholly to literature, and
+translated freely from English. This work is to be found in _Romans (les
+deux premiers .�.�. tir�s des Lettres Persanes .�.�. par M.�Littleton et
+le dernier .�.�. d'un Recueil de Romans .�.�. de Madame Behn) traduits
+de l'�Anglois_, (Amsterdam, 1761.) It occurs again in _M�langes de
+Litterature_ (12mo, 1775, etc.), Vol.�VI.
+
+A tragedy, _Agnes de Castro_, written by that philosophical lady,
+Catherine Trotter (afterwards Cockburn), at the early age of sixteen,
+and produced at the Theatre Royal, 1696, with Powell, Verbruggen, Mrs.
+Rogers in the principal parts, is directly founded upon Mrs. Behn. It is
+a mediocre play, and the same can even more truly be said of Mallet's
+cold _Elvira_ (1763). This was acted, however, with fair success
+thirteen times. Garrick played Don Pedro, his last original part, and
+Mrs. Cibber Elvira. Such dull exercises as C.�Symmons, _Inez, a�tragedy_
+(1796), and _Ignez de Castro_, a tragedy in verse, intended for _Hoad's
+Magazine_ call for no comment.
+
+There is a French play by Lamotte on the subject of Ines de Castro,
+which was first produced 6 April, 1723. Voltaire found the first four
+acts execrable and laughed consumedly. The fifth was so tender and true
+that he melted into tears. In Italian we have, from the pen of
+Bertoletti, _Inez de Castro_, tragedia, Milano, 1826.
+
+In Spanish and Portuguese there are, of course, innumerable poems,
+treaties, tragedies, studies, romances. Lope de Vega wrote _Dona Inez de
+Castro_, and the beautiful episode of Camoens is deservedly famous.
+Antonio Ferreira's splendid tragedy is well known. First published in
+_Comedias Famosas dos Doctores de Sa de Mirande_ (4to, 1622), it can
+also be read in _Poemas lusitanos_ (2�Vols., 8vo, Lisbon, 1771). Domingo
+dos Reis Quita wrote a drama, _Ignez de Castro_, a translation of which,
+by Benjamin Thompson, was published in 1800. There is also a play _Dona
+Ignez de Castro_, by Nicolas Luiz, which was Englished by John Adamson,
+whose version was printed at Newcastle, 1808.
+
+    [Footnote 1: Mr. Arundell Esdaile in his _Bibliography of Fiction_
+    (_printed before 1740_) erroneously identifies this amusing little
+    piece with Mrs. Behn's _The Lover's Watch_. It is, however, quite
+    another thing, dealing with a pseudo-Turkish language of love.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: i.e., Peter Bellon, Gent. Bellon was an assiduous
+    hackney writer and translator of the day. He has also left one
+    comedy, _The Mock Duellist; or, The French Valet_ (4to, 1675).]
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF _AGNES de CASTRO_.
+
+
+Tho' Love, all soft and flattering, promises nothing but Pleasures; yet
+its Consequences are often sad and fatal. It is not enough to be in
+love, to be happy; since Fortune, who is capricious, and takes delight
+to trouble the Repose of the most elevated and virtuous, has very little
+respect for passionate and tender Hearts, when she designs to produce
+strange Adventures.
+
+Many Examples of past Ages render this Maxim certain; but the Reign of
+_Don Alphonso_ the IVth, King of _Portugal_, furnishes us with one, the
+most extraordinary that History can produce.
+
+He was the Son of that _Don Denis_, who was so successful in all his
+Undertakings, that it was said of him, that he was capable of performing
+whatever he design'd, (and of _Isabella_, a Princess of eminent Virtue)
+who when he came to inherit a flourishing and tranquil State,
+endeavour'd to establish Peace and Plenty in abundance in his Kingdom.
+
+And to advance this his Design, he agreed on a Marriage between his Son
+_Don Pedro_ (then about eight Years of Age) and _Bianca_, Daughter of
+_Don Pedro_, King of _Castile_; and whom the young Prince married when
+he arriv'd to his sixteenth Year.
+
+_Bianca_ brought nothing to _Coimbra_ but Infirmities and very few
+Charms. _Don Pedro_, who was full of Sweetness and Generosity, lived
+nevertheless very well with her; but those Distempers of the Princess
+degenerating into the Palsy, she made it her request to retire, and at
+her Intercession the Pope broke the Marriage, and the melancholy
+Princess conceal'd her Languishment in a solitary Retreat: And _Don
+Pedro_, for whom they had provided another Match, married _Constantia
+Manuel_, Daughter of _Don John Manuel_, a Prince of the Blood of
+_Castile_, and famous for the Enmity he had to his King.
+
+_Constantia_ was promised to the King of _Castile_; but the King not
+keeping his word, they made no Difficulty of bestowing her on a young
+Prince, who was one Day to reign over a number of fine Provinces. He was
+but five and twenty years of Age, and the Man of all _Spain_ that had
+the best Fashion and Grace: and with the most advantageous Qualities of
+the Body he possest those of the Soul, and shewed himself worthy in all
+things of the Crown that was destin'd for him.
+
+The Princess _Constantia_ had Beauty, Wit, and Generosity, in as great a
+measure as 'twas possible for a Woman to be possest with; her Merit
+alone ought to have attach'd _Don Pedro_, eternally to her; and
+certainly he had for her an Esteem, mix'd with so great a Respect, as
+might very well pass for Love with those that were not of a nice and
+curious Observation: but alas! his real Care was reserved for another
+Beauty.
+
+_Constantia_ brought into the World, the first Year after her Marriage,
+a�Son, who was called _Don Louis_: but it scarce saw the Light, and dy'd
+almost as soon as born. The loss of this little Prince sensibly touched
+her, but the Coldness she observ'd in the Prince her Husband, went yet
+nearer her Heart; for she had given her self absolutely up to her Duty,
+and had made her Tenderness for him her only Concern: But puissant
+Glory, which ty'd her so entirely to the Interest of the Prince of
+_Portugal_, open'd her Eyes upon his Actions, where she observ'd nothing
+in his Caresses and Civilities that was natural, or could satisfy her
+delicate Heart.
+
+At first she fancy'd her self deceiv'd, but time having confirmed her in
+what she fear'd, she sighed in secret; yet had that Consideration for
+the Prince, as not to let him see her Disorder: and which nevertheless
+she could not conceal from _Agnes de Castro_, who lived with her, rather
+as a Companion, than a Maid of Honour, and whom her Friendship made her
+infinitely distinguish from the rest.
+
+This Maid, so dear to the Princess, very well merited the Preference her
+Mistress gave her; she was beautiful to excess, wise, discreet, witty,
+and had more Tenderness for _Constantia_ than she had for her self,
+having quitted her Family, which was illustrious, to give her self
+wholly to the Service of the Princess, and to follow her into
+_Portugal_. It was into the Bosom of this Maid, that the Princess
+unladed her first Moans; and the charming _Agnes_ forgot nothing that
+might give ease to her afflicted Heart.
+
+Nor was _Constantia_ the only Person who complained of _Don Pedro_:
+Before his Divorce from _Bianca_, he had expressed some Care and
+Tenderness for _Elvira Gonzales_, Sister to Don _Alvaro Gonzales_,
+Favourite to the King of _Portugal_; and this Amusement in the young
+Years of the Prince, had made a deep Impression on _Elvira_, who
+flatter'd her Ambition with the Infirmities of _Bianca_. She saw, with a
+secret Rage, _Constantia_ take her place, who was possest with such
+Charms, that quite divested her of all Hopes.
+
+Her Jealousy left her not idle, she examined all the Actions of the
+Prince, and easily discover'd the little Regard he had for the Princess;
+but this brought him not back to her. And it was upon very good grounds
+that she suspected him to be in love with some other Person, and
+possessed with a new Passion; and which she promised herself, she would
+destroy as soon as she could find it out. She had a Spirit altogether
+proper for bold and hazardous Enterprizes; and the Credit of her Brother
+gave her so much Vanity, as all the Indifference of the Prince was not
+capable of humbling.
+
+The Prince languished, and concealed the Cause with so much Care, that
+'twas impossible for any to find it out. No publick Pleasures were
+agreeable to him, and all Conversations were tedious; and it was
+Solitude alone that was able to give him any ease.
+
+This Change surprized all the World. The King, who loved his Son very
+tenderly, earnestly pressed him to know the Reason of his Melancholy;
+but the Prince made no answer, but only this, That it was the effect of
+his Temper.
+
+But Time ran on, and the Princess was brought to bed of a second Son,
+who liv'd, and was called _Fernando_. _Don Pedro_ forc'd himself a
+little to take part in the publick Joy, so that they believ'd his Humour
+was changing; but this Appearance of a Calm endur'd not long, and he
+fell back again into his black Melancholy.
+
+The artful _Elvira_ was incessantly agitated in searching out the
+Knowledge of this Secret. Chance wrought for her; and, as she was
+walking, full of Indignation and Anger, in the Garden of the Palace of
+_Coimbra_, she found the Prince of _Portugal_ sleeping in an obscure
+Grotto.
+
+Her Fury could not contain it self at the sight of this loved Object,
+she roll'd her Eyes upon him, and perceived in spite of Sleep, that some
+Tears escaped his Eyes; the Flame which burnt yet in her Heart, soon
+grew soft and tender there: But oh! she heard him sigh, and after that
+utter these words, _Yes, Divine +Agnes+, I will sooner die than let you
+know it: +Constantia+ shall have nothing to reproach me with._ _Elvira_
+was enraged at this Discourse, which represented to her immediately, the
+same moment, _Agnes de Castro_ with all her Charms; and not at all
+doubting, but it was she who possest the Heart of _Don Pedro_, she found
+in her Soul more Hatred for this fair Rival, than Tenderness for him.
+
+The Grotto was not a fit Place to make Reflections in, or to form
+Designs. Perhaps her first Transports would have made her waken him, if
+she had not perceived a Paper lying under his Hand, which she softly
+seiz'd on; and that she might not be surprized in the reading it, she
+went out of the Garden with as much haste as confusion.
+
+When she was retired to her Apartment, she open'd the Paper, trembling,
+and found in it these Verses, writ by the Hand of _Don Pedro_; and
+which, in appearance, he had newly then compos'd.
+
+  _In vain, Oh! Sacred Honour, you debate
+    The mighty Business in my Heart:
+  Love! Charming Love! rules all my Fate;
+    Interest and Glory claim no part.
+  The God, sure of his Victory, triumphs there,
+  And will have nothing in his Empire share._
+
+  _In vain, Oh! Sacred Duty, you oppose;
+    In vain, your Nuptial Tye you plead:
+  Those forc'd Devoirs LOVE overthrows,
+    And breaks the Vows he never made.
+  Fixing his fatal Arrows every where,
+  I burn and languish in a soft Despair._
+
+  _Fair Princess, you to whom my Faith is due;
+    Pardon the Destiny that drags me on:
+  'Tis not my fault my Heart's untrue,
+    I am compell'd to be undone.
+  My Life is yours, I gave it with my Hand,
+  But my Fidelity I can't command._
+
+_Elvira_ did not only know the Writing of _Don Pedro_, but she knew also
+that he could write Verses. And seeing the sad Part which _Constantia_
+had in these which were now fallen into her hands, she made no scruple
+of resolving to let the Princess see 'em: but that she might not be
+suspected, she took care not to appear in this Business her self; and
+since it was not enough for _Constantia_ to know that the Prince did not
+love her, but that she must know also that he was a Slave to _Agnes de
+Castro_, _Elvira_ caused these few Verses to be written in an unknown
+Hand, under those writ by the Prince.
+
+  _Sleep betrayed th' unhappy Lover,
+    While Tears were streaming from his Eyes;
+  His heedless Tongue without disguise,
+    The Secret did discover:
+  The Language of his Heart declare,
+  That +Agnes'+ Image triumphs there._
+
+_Elvira_ regarded neither Exactness nor Grace in these Lines: And if
+they had but the effect she design'd, she wished no more.
+
+Her Impatience could not wait till the next day to expose them: she
+therefore went immediately to the Lodgings of the Princess, who was then
+walking in the Garden of the Palace; and passing without resistance,
+even to her Cabinet, she put the Paper into a Book, in which the
+Princess used to read, and went out again unseen, and satisfy'd with her
+good Fortune.
+
+As soon as _Constantia_ was return'd, she enter'd into her Cabinet, and
+saw the Book open, and the Verses lying in it, which were to cost her so
+dear: She soon knew the Hand of the Prince which was so familiar to her;
+and besides the Information of what she had always fear'd, she
+understood it was _Agnes de Castro_ (whose Friendship alone was able to
+comfort her in her Misfortunes) who was the fatal Cause of it: she read
+over the Paper an hundred times, desiring to give her Eyes and Reason
+the Lye; but finding but too plainly she was not deceiv'd, she found her
+Soul possest with more Grief than Anger: when she consider'd, as much in
+love as the Prince was, he had kept his Torment secret. After having
+made her moan, without condemning him, the Tenderness she had for him,
+made her shed a Torrent of Tears, and inspir'd her with a Resolution of
+concealing her Resentment.
+
+She would certainly have done it by a Virtue extraordinary, if the
+Prince, who missing his Verses when he waked, and fearing they might
+fall into indiscreet Hands, had not enter'd the Palace, all troubled
+with his Loss; and hastily going into _Constantia's_ Apartment, saw her
+fair Eyes all wet with Tears, and at the same instant cast his own on
+the unhappy Verses that had escaped from his Soul, and now lay before
+the Princess.
+
+He immediately turned pale at this sight, and appear'd so mov'd, that
+the generous Princess felt more Pain than he did: 'Madam, _said he_,
+(infinitely alarm'd) from whom had you that Paper? It cannot come but
+from the Hand of some Person, _answer'd_ Constantia, who is an Enemy
+both to your Repose and mine. It is the Work, Sir, of your own Hand; and
+doubtless the Sentiment of your Heart. But be not surprized, and do not
+fear; for if my Tenderness should make it pass for a Crime in you, the
+same Tenderness which nothing is able to alter, shall hinder me from
+complaining.'
+
+The Moderation and Calmness of _Constantia_, served only to render the
+Prince more asham'd and confus'd. _How generous are you, Madam_,
+(pursu'd�he) _and how unfortunate am I!_ Some Tears accompany'd his
+Words, and the Princess, who lov'd him with extreme Ardour, was so
+sensibly touch'd, that it was a good while before she could utter a
+word. _Constantia_ then broke silence, and shewing him what _Elvira_ had
+caus'd to be written: _You are betray'd, Sir_, (added she) _you have
+been heard speak, and your Secret is known._ It was at this very moment
+that all the Forces of the Prince abandon'd him; and his Condition was
+really worthy Compassion: He could not pardon himself the involuntary
+Crime he had committed, in exposing of the lovely and the innocent
+_Agnes_. And tho' he was convinced of the Virtue and Goodness of
+_Constantia_, the Apprehensions that he had, that this modest and
+prudent Maid might suffer by his Conduct, carry'd him beyond all
+Consideration.
+
+The Princess, who heedfully survey'd him, saw so many Marks of Despair
+in his Face and Eyes, that she was afraid of the Consequences; and
+holding out her Hand, in a very obliging manner to him, she said,
+'I�promise you, Sir, I�will never more complain of you, and that _Agnes_
+shall always be very dear to me; you shall never hear me make you any
+Reproaches: And since I cannot possess your Heart, I�will content myself
+with endeavouring to render myself worthy of it.' _Don Pedro_, more
+confus'd and dejected than before he had been, bent one of his Knees at
+the feet of _Constantia_, and with respect kiss'd that fair kind Hand
+she had given him, and perhaps forgot _Agnes_ for a moment.
+
+But Love soon put a stop to all the little Advances of _Hymen_; the
+fatal Star that presided over the Destiny of _Don Pedro_ had not yet
+vented its Malignity; and one moment's sight of _Agnes_ gave new Force
+to his Passion.
+
+The Wishes and Desires of this charming Maid had no part in this
+Victory; her Eyes were just, tho' penetrating, and they searched not in
+those of the Prince, what they had a desire to discover to her.
+
+As she was never far from _Constantia_, _Don Pedro_ was no sooner gone
+out of the Closet, but _Agnes_ enter'd; and finding the Princess all
+pale and languishing in her Chair, she doubted not but there was some
+sufficient Cause for her Affliction: she put herself in the same Posture
+the Prince had been in before, and expressing an Inquietude, full of
+Concern; 'Madam, _said she_, by all your Goodness, conceal not from me
+the Cause of your Trouble. Alas, _Agnes_, _reply'd the Princess_, what
+would you know? And what should I tell you? The Prince, the Prince, my
+dearest Maid, is in love; the Hand that he gave me, was not a Present of
+his Heart; and for the Advantage of this Alliance, I�must become the
+Victim of it--What! the Prince in Love! (_reply'd +Agnes+, with an
+Astonishment mix'd with Indignation_) What Beauty can dispute the Empire
+over a Heart so much your due? Alas, Madam, all the Respect I owe him,
+cannot hinder me from murmuring against him. Accuse him of nothing,
+(_interrupted_ Constantia) he does what he can; and I am more oblig'd to
+him for desiring to be faithful, than if I possest his real Tenderness.
+It is not enough to fight, but to overcome; and the Prince does more in
+the Condition wherein he is, than I ought reasonably to hope for: In
+fine, he is my Husband, and an agreeable one; to whom nothing is
+wanting, but what I cannot inspire; that is, a�Passion which would have
+made me but too happy. Ah! Madam, (_cry'd out +Agnes+, transported with
+her Tenderness for the Princess_) he is a blind and stupid Prince, who
+knows not the precious Advantages he possesses. He must surely know
+something, (_reply'd the Princess modestly._) But, Madam, (_reply'd
++Agnes+_) Is there any thing, not only in _Portugal_, but in all
+_Spain_, that can compare with you? And without considering the charming
+Qualities of your Person, can we enough admire those of your Soul? My
+dear _Agnes_, (_interrupted +Constantia+, sighing_) she who robs me of
+my Husband's Heart, has but too many Charms to plead his Excuse; since
+it is thou, Child, whom Fortune makes use of, to give me the killing
+Blow. Yes, _Agnes_, the Prince loves thee; and the Merit I know thou art
+possest of, puts bounds to my Complaints, without suffering me to have
+the least Resentment.'
+
+The delicate _Agnes_ little expected to hear what the Princess told her:
+Thunder would have less surpriz'd, and less oppres'd her. She remain'd a
+long time without speaking; but at last, fixing her Looks all frightful
+on _Constantia_, 'What say you, Madam? (_cry'd she_) And what Thoughts
+have you of me? What, that I should betray you? And coming hither only
+full of Ardor to be the Repose of your Life, do I bring a fatal Poison
+to afflict it? What Detestation must I have for the Beauty they find in
+me, without aspiring to make it appear? And how ought I to curse the
+unfortunate Day, on which I first saw the Prince?--But, Madam, it cannot
+be me whom Heaven has chosen to torment you, and to destroy all your
+Tranquillity: No, it cannot be so much my Enemy, to put me to so great a
+Tryal. And if I were that odious Person, there is no Punishment, to
+which I would not condemn my self. It is _Elvira_, Madam, the Prince
+loves, and loved before his Marriage with you, and also before his
+Divorce from _Bianca_; and somebody has made an indiscreet Report to you
+of this Intrigue of his Youth: But, Madam, what was in the time of
+_Bianca_, is nothing to you. It is certain that _Don Pedro_ loves you,
+(_answer'd the Princess_) and I have Vanity enough to believe, that,
+none besides your self could have disputed his Heart with me: But the
+Secret is discover'd, and _Don Pedro_ has not disown'd it. What,
+(_interrupted +Agnes+, more surpriz'd than ever_) is it then from
+himself you have learned his Weakness?' The Princess then shew'd her the
+Verses, and there was never any Despair like to hers.
+
+While they were both thus sadly employ'd, both sighing, and both
+weeping, the impatient _Elvira_, who was willing to learn the Effect of
+her Malice, returned to the Apartment of the Princess, where she freely
+enter'd; even to the Cabinet where these unhappy Persons were: who all
+afflicted and troubled as they were, blushed at her approach, whose
+Company they did not desire: She had the Pleasure to see _Constantia_
+hide from her the Paper which had been the Cause of all their Trouble,
+and which the Princess had never seen, but for her Spite and Revenge;
+and to observe also in the Eyes of the Princess, and those of _Agnes_,
+an immoderate Grief: She staid in the Cabinet as long as it was
+necessary to be assur'd, that she had succeeded in her Design; but the
+Princess, who did not desire such a Witness of the Disorder in which she
+then was, pray'd to be left alone. _Elvira_ then went out of the
+Cabinet, and _Agnes de Castro_ withdrew at the same time.
+
+It was in her own Chamber, that _Agnes_ examining more freely this
+Adventure, found it as cruel as Death. She loved _Constantia_ sincerely,
+and had not till then any thing more than an Esteem, mixt with
+Admiration, for the Prince of _Portugal_; which indeed, none could
+refuse to so many fine Qualities. And looking on her self as the most
+unfortunate of her Sex, as being the Cause of all the Sufferings of the
+Princess, to whom she was obliged for the greatest Bounties, she spent
+the whole Night in Tears and Complaints, sufficient to have reveng'd
+_Constantia_ for all the Griefs she made her suffer.
+
+The Prince, on his side, was in no great Tranquillity; the Generosity of
+his Princess increas'd his Remorse, without diminishing his Love: he
+fear'd, and with reason, that those who were the occasion of
+_Constantia's_ seeing those Verses, should discover his Passion to the
+King, from whom he hoped for no Indulgence: and he would most willingly
+have given his Life, to have been free from this Extremity.
+
+In the mean time the afflicted Princess languished in a most deplorable
+Sadness; she found nothing in those who were the Cause of her
+Misfortunes, but things fitter to move her Tenderness than her Anger: It
+was in vain that Jealousy strove to combat the Inclination she had to
+love her fair Rival; nor was there any occasion of making the Prince
+less dear to her: and she felt neither Hatred, nor so much as
+Indifference for innocent _Agnes_.
+
+While these three disconsolate Persons abandon'd themselves to their
+Melancholy, _Elvira_, not to leave her Vengeance imperfect, study'd in
+what manner she might bring it to the height of its Effects. Her
+Brother, on whom she depended, shew'd her a great deal of Friendship,
+and judging rightly that the Love of _Don Pedro_ to _Agnes de Castro_
+would not be approved by the King, she acquainted _Don Alvaro_ her
+Brother with it, who was not ignorant of the Passion the Prince had once
+protested to have for his Sister. He found himself very much interested
+in this News, from a second Passion he had for _Agnes_; which the
+Business of his Fortune had hitherto hindred him from discovering: and
+he expected a great many Favours from the King, that might render the
+Effort of his Heart the more considerable.
+
+He hid not from his Sister this one thing, which he found difficult to
+conceal; so that she was now possest with a double Grief, to find
+_Agnes_ Sovereign of all the Hearts to which she had a pretension.
+
+_Don Alvaro_ was one of those ambitious Men, that are fierce without
+Moderation, and proud without Generosity; of a melancholy, cloudy
+Humour, of a cruel Inclination, and to effect his Ends, found nothing
+difficult or unlawful. Naturally he lov'd not the Prince, who, on all
+accounts, ought to have held the first Rank in the Heart of the King,
+which should have set bounds to the Favour of _Don Alvaro_; who when he
+knew the Prince was his Rival, his Jealousy increas'd his Hate of him:
+and he conjured _Elvira_ to employ all her Care, to oppose an Engagement
+that could not but be destructive to them both; she promised him, and he
+not very well satisfy'd, rely'd on her Address.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who had too lively a Representation within himself, of the
+Beauties and Grace of the Prince of _Portugal_, thought of nothing, but
+how to combat his Merits, he himself not being handsome, or well made:
+His Fashion was as disagreeable as his Humour, and _Don Pedro_ had all
+the Advantages that one Man may possibly have over another. In fine, all
+that _Don Alvaro_ wanted, adorn'd the Prince: but as he was the Husband
+of _Constantia_, and depended upon an absolute Father, and that _Don
+Alvaro_ was free, and Master of a good Fortune, he thought himself more
+assur'd of _Agnes_, and fixed his Hopes on that Thought.
+
+He knew very well, that the Passion of _Don Pedro_ could not but inspire
+a violent Anger in the Soul of the King. Industrious in doing ill, his
+first Business was to carry this unwelcome News to him. After he had
+given time to his Grief, and had compos'd himself to his Desire, he then
+besought the King to interest himself in his amorous Affair, and to be
+the Protector of his Person.
+
+Tho' _Don Alvaro_ had no other Merit to recommend him to the King, than
+a continual and blind Obedience to all his Commands; yet he had favour'd
+him with several Testimonies of his vast Bounty: and considering the
+Height to which the King's Liberality had rais'd him, there were few
+Ladies that would have refused his Alliance. The King assured him of the
+Continuation of his Friendship and Favour, and promised him, if he had
+any Authority, he would give him the charming _Agnes_.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, perfectly skilful in managing his Master, answer'd the
+King's last Bounties with a profound Submission. He had yet never told
+_Agnes_ what he felt for her; but he thought now he might make a publick
+Declaration of it, and sought all means to do�it.
+
+The Gallantry which _Coimbra_ seem'd to have forgotten, began now to be
+awakened. The King to please _Don Alvaro_, under pretence of diverting
+_Constantia_, order'd some publick Sports, and commanded that every
+thing should be magnificent.
+
+Since the Adventure of the Verses, _Don Pedro_ endeavour'd to lay a
+constraint on himself, and to appear less troubled; but in his heart he
+suffer'd always alike: and it was not but with great uneasiness he
+prepar'd himself for the Tournament. And since he could not appear with
+the Colours of _Agnes_, he took those of his Wife, without Device, or
+any great Magnificence.
+
+_Don Pedro_ adorn'd himself with the Liveries of _Agnes de Castro_; and
+this fair Maid, who had yet found no Consolation from what the Princess
+had told her, had this new cause of being displeas'd.
+
+_Don Pedro_ appear'd in the List with an admirable Grace; and _Don
+Alvaro_, who looked on this Day as his own, appear'd there all shining
+with Gold, mix'd with Stones of Blue, which were the Colours of _Agnes_;
+and there were embroider'd all over his Equipage, flaming Hearts of Gold
+on blue Velvet, and Nets for the Snares of Love, with abundance of
+double _A's_; his Device was a Love coming out of a Cloud, with these
+Verses written underneath:
+
+  _Love from a Cloud breaks like the God of Day,
+  And to the World his Glories does display;
+  To gaze on charming Eyes, and make 'em know,
+  What to soft Hearts, and to his Power they owe._
+
+The Pride of _Don Alvaro_ was soon humbled at the feet of the Prince of
+_Portugal_, who threw him against the Ground, with twenty others, and
+carry'd alone the Glory of the Day. There was in the Evening a noble
+Assembly at _Constantia's_, where _Agnes_ would not have been, unless
+expresly commanded by the Princess. She appear'd there all negligent and
+careless in her Dress, but yet she appear'd all beautiful and charming.
+She saw, with disdain, her Name, and her Colours, worn by _Don Alvaro_,
+at a publick Triumph; and if her Heart was capable of any tender
+Motions, it was not for such a Man as he for whom her Delicacy destin'd
+them: She look'd on him with a Contempt, which did not hinder him from
+pressing so near, that there was a necessity for her to hear what he had
+to declare to her.
+
+She treated him not uncivilly, but her Coldness would have rebated the
+Courage of any but _Alvaro_. 'Madam, said he, (when he could be heard of
+none but herself) I�have hitherto concealed the Passion you have
+inspired me with, fearing it should displease you; but it has committed
+a Violence on my Respect; and I could no longer conceal it from you.
+I�never reflected on your Actions (answer'd _Agnes_ with all the
+Indifference of which she was capable) and if you think you offend me,
+you are in the wrong to make me perceive it. This Coldness is but an ill
+Omen for me (reply'd _Don Alvaro_) and if you have not found me out to
+be your Lover to-day, I�fear you will never approve my Passion.'
+
+'Oh! what a time have you chosen to make it appear to me? (pursued
+_Agnes_.) Is it so great an Honour for me, that you must take such care
+to shew it to the World? And do you think that I am so desirous of
+Glory, that I must aspire to it by your Actions? If I must, you have
+very ill maintain'd it in the Tournament; and if it be that Vanity that
+you depend upon, you will make no great progress on a Soul that is not
+fond of Shame. If you were possest of all the Advantages, which the
+Prince has this day carried away, you yet ought to consider what you are
+going about; and it is not a Maid like me, who is touched with
+Enterprizes, without respect or permission.'
+
+The Favourite of the King was too proud to hear _Agnes_, without
+Indignation: but as he was willing to conceal it, and not offend her, he
+made not his Resentment appear; and considering the Observation she made
+on the Triumphs of _Don Pedro_, (which increased his Jealousies) 'If I
+have not overcome at the Tournament, reply'd he, I�am not the less in
+love for being vanquish'd, nor less capable of Success on occasion.'
+
+They were interrupted here, but from that day, _Don Alvaro_, who had
+open'd the first Difficulties, kept no more his wonted Distance, but
+perpetually persecuted _Agnes_; yet, tho' he were protected by the King,
+that inspir'd in her never the more Consideration for him. _Don Pedro_
+was always ignorant by what means the Verses he had lost in the Garden,
+fell into the hands of _Constantia_. As the Princess appeared to him
+indulgent, he was only concerned for _Agnes_; and the love of _Don
+Alvaro_, which was then so well known, increas'd the Pain: and had he
+been possess'd of the Authority, he would not have suffer'd her to have
+been expos'd to the Persecutions of so unworthy a Rival. He was also
+afraid of the King's being advertised of his Passion, but he thought not
+at all of _Elvira_, nor apprehended any Malice from her Resentment.
+
+While she burnt with a Desire of destroying _Agnes_, against whom she
+vented all her Venom, she was never weary of making new Reports to her
+Brother, assuring him, that tho' they could not prove that _Agnes_ made
+any returns to the Tenderness of the Prince, yet that was the Cause of
+_Constantia's_ Grief: And, that if this Princess should die of it, _Don
+Pedro_ might marry _Agnes_. In fine, she so incens'd the jealous _Don
+Alvaro's_ Jealousy, that he could not hinder himself from running
+immediately to the King, with the discovery of all he knew, and all he
+guest, and who, he had the pleasure to find, was infinitely inrag'd at
+the News. 'My dear _Alvaro_, said the King, you shall instantly marry
+this dangerous Beauty: And let Possession assure your Repose and mine.
+If I have protected you on other Occasions, judge what a Service of so
+great an Importance for me, would make me undertake; and without any
+reserve, the Forces of this State are in your power, and almost any
+thing that I can give shall be assured you, so you render your self
+Master of the Destiny of _Agnes_.'
+
+_Don Alvaro_ pleas'd, and vain with his Master's Bounty, made use of all
+the Authority he gave him: He passionately lov'd _Agnes_, and would not,
+on the sudden, make use of Violence; but resolv'd with himself to employ
+all possible Means to win her fairly; yet if that fail'd, to have
+recourse to force, if she continued always insensible.
+
+While _Agnes de Castro_ (importun'd by his Assiduities, despairing at
+the Grief of _Constantia_, and perhaps made tender by those she had
+caus'd in the Prince of _Portugal_) took a Resolution worthy of her
+Virtue; yet, amiable as _Don Pedro_ was, she found nothing in him, but
+his being Husband to _Constantia_, that was dear to her: And, far from
+encouraging the Power she had got over his Heart, she thought of nothing
+but of removing from _Coimbra_. The Passion of _Don Alvaro_, which she
+had no inclination to favour, served her as a Pretext; and press'd with
+the fear of causing, in the end, a�cruel Divorce between the Prince and
+his Princess, she went to find _Constantia_, with a trouble, which all
+her Care was not able to hide from her.
+
+The Princess easily found it out; and their common Misfortunes having
+not chang'd their Friendship--'What ails you, _Agnes_? (said the
+Princess to her, in a soft Tone, and with her ordinary Sweetness) And
+what new Misfortune causes that sadness in thy Looks? Madam (reply'd
+_Agnes_, shedding a Rivulet of Tears) the Obligations and Ties I have to
+you, put me upon a cruel Tryal; I�had bounded the Felicity of my Life in
+hope of passing it near your Highness, yet I must carry to some other
+part of the World this unlucky Face of mine, which renders me nothing
+but ill Offices: And it is to obtain that Liberty, that I am come to
+throw my self at your feet; looking upon you as my Sovereign.'
+
+_Constantia_ was so surpriz'd and touch'd with the Proposition of
+_Agnes_, that she lost her Speech for some moments; Tears, which were
+sincere, express'd her first Sentiments: And after having shed
+abundance, to give a new mark of her Tenderness to the fair afflicted
+_Agnes_, she with a sad and melancholy Look, fix'd her Eyes upon her,
+and holding out her Hand to her, in a most obliging manner, sighing,
+cry'd--'You will then, my dear _Agnes_, leave me; and expose me to the
+Griefs of seeing you no more? Alas, Madam, (interrupted this lovely
+Maid) hide from the unhappy _Agnes_ a Bounty which does but increase her
+Misfortunes: It is not I, Madam, that would leave you; it is my Duty,
+and my Reason that orders my Fate. And those Days which I shall pass far
+from you, promise me nothing to oblige me to this Design, if I did not
+see my self absolutely forc'd to it. I�am not ignorant of what passes at
+_Coimbra_; and I shall be an Accomplice of the Injustice there
+committed, if I should stay there any longer.--Ah, I�know your Virtue,
+(cry'd _Constantia_) and you may remain here in all safety, while I am
+your Protectress; and let what will happen, I�will accuse you of
+nothing. There's no answering for what's to come, (reply'd _Agnes_,
+sadly) and I shall be sufficiently guilty, if my Presence cause
+Sentiments, which cannot be innocent. Besides, Madam, the Importunities
+of _Don Alvaro_ are insupportable to me; and tho' I�find nothing but
+Aversion to him, since the King protects his Insolence, and he's in a
+condition of undertaking any thing, my Flight is absolutely necessary.
+But, Madam, tho' he has nothing but what seems odious to me; I�call
+Heaven to witness, that if I could cure the Prince by marrying _Don
+Alvaro_, I would not consider of it a moment; and finding in my
+Punishment the Consolation of sacrificing my self to my Princess,
+I�would support it without murmuring. But if I were the Wife of _Don
+Alvaro_, _Don Pedro_ would always look upon me with the same Eyes: So
+that I find nothing more reasonable for me, than to hide my self in some
+Corner of the World; where, tho' I�shall most certainly live without
+Pleasure, yet I shall preserve the Repose of my dearest Mistress. All
+the Reason you find in this Design, (answered the Princess) cannot
+oblige me to approve of your Absence: Will it restore me the Heart of
+_Don Pedro_? And will he not fly away with you? His Grief is mine, and
+my Life is ty'd to his; do not make him despair then, if you love me.
+I�know you, I�tell you so once more; and let your Power be ever so great
+over the Heart of the Prince, I�will not suffer you to abandon�us.'
+
+Tho' _Agnes_ thought she had perfectly known _Constantia_, yet she did
+not expect to find so intire a Virtue in her, which made her think her
+self more happy, and the Prince more criminal. 'Oh, Wisdom! Oh, Bounty
+without Example! (cry'd she) Why is it, that the cruel Destinies do not
+give you all you deserve? You are the disposer of my Actions, (continued
+she in kissing the Hand of _Constantia_) I'll do nothing but what you'll
+have me: But consider, and weigh well the Reasons that ought to counsel
+you in the Measures you oblige me to take.'
+
+_Don Pedro_, who had not seen the Princess all that day, came in then,
+and finding 'em both extremely troubled, with a fierce Impatience,
+demanded the Cause: 'Sir, answered _Constantia_, _Agnes_ too wise, and
+too scrupulous, fears the Effects of her Beauty, and will live no longer
+at _Coimbra_; and it was on this Subject, (which cannot be agreeable
+to�me) that she ask'd my Advice.' The Prince grew pale at this
+Discourse, and snatching the Words from her Mouth (with more concern
+than possest either of them) cry'd with a Voice very feeble, '_Agnes_
+cannot fail if she follow your Counsel, Madam: and I leave you full
+liberty to give it her.' He then immediately went out, and the Princess,
+whose Heart he perfectly possest, not being able to hide her
+Displeasure, said, 'My dear _Agnes_, if my Satisfaction did not only
+depend on your Conversation, I�should desire it of you, for _Don
+Pedro's_ sake; it is the only Advantage that his unfortunate Love can
+hope: And would not the World have reason to call me barbarous, if I
+contribute to deprive him of that? But the sight of me will prove a
+Poison to him--(reply'd _Agnes_) And what should I do, my Princess, if
+after the Reserve he has hitherto kept, his Mouth should add anything to
+the Torments I have already felt, by speaking to me of his Flame? You
+would hear him sure, without causing him to despair, (reply'd
+_Constantia_) and I should put this Obligation to the account of the
+rest you have done. Would you then have me expect those Events which I
+fear, Madam? (reply'd _Agnes_) Well--I will obey, but just Heaven
+(pursued she) if they prove fatal, do not punish an innocent Heart for
+it.' Thus this Conversation ended. _Agnes_ withdrew into her Chamber,
+but it was not to be more at ease.
+
+What _Don Pedro_ had learn'd of the Design of _Agnes_, caus'd a cruel
+Agitation in his Soul; he wished he had never loved her, and desir'd a
+thousand times to die: But it was not for him to make Vows against a
+thing which Fate had design'd him; and whatever Resolutions he made, to
+bear the Absence of _Agnes_, his Tenderness had not force enough to
+consent to�it.
+
+After having, for a long time, combated with himself, he determined to
+do what was impossible for him to let _Agnes_ do. His Courage reproach'd
+him with the Idleness, in which he past the most youthful and vigorous
+part of his Days: and making it appear to the King, that his Allies, and
+even the Prince _Don John Emanuel_, his Father-in-law, had concerns in
+the World which demanded his Presence on the Frontiers, he easily
+obtain'd Liberty to make this Journey, to which the Princess would put
+no Obstacle.
+
+_Agnes_ saw him part without any Concern, but it was not upon the
+account of any Aversion she had to him. _Don Alvaro_ began then to make
+his Importunity an open Persecution; he forgot nothing that might touch
+the insensible _Agnes_, and made use, a�long time, only of the Arms of
+Love: But seeing that this Submission and Respect was to no purpose, he
+form'd strange Designs.
+
+As the King had a deference for all his Counsels, it was not difficult
+to inspire him with what he had a mind to: He complain'd of the
+ungrateful _Agnes_, and forgot nothing that might make him perceive that
+she was not cruel to him on his account, but from the too much
+Sensibility she had for the Prince. The King, who was extreme angry at
+this, reiterated all the Promises he had made him.
+
+The King had not yet spoken to _Agnes_ in favour of _Don Alvaro_; and
+not doubting but his Approbation would surmount all Obstacles, he took
+an occasion to entertain her with it: And removing some distance from
+those who might hear him, 'I�thought _Don Alvaro_ had Merit enough (said
+he to her) to have obtained a little share in your Esteem; and I could
+not imagine there would have been any necessity of my solliciting it for
+him: I�know you are very charming, but he has nothing that renders him
+unworthy of you; and when you shall reflect on the Choice my Friendship
+has made of him from among all the great Men of my Court, you will do
+him at the same time Justice. His Fortune is none of the meanest, since
+he has me for his Protector: He is nobly born, a�Man of Honour and
+Courage: he adores you, and it seems to me that all these Reasons are
+sufficient to vanquish your Pride.'
+
+The Heart of _Agnes_ was so little disposed to give it self to _Don
+Alvaro_, that all the King of _Portugal_ had said had no effect on her
+in his favour. 'If _Don Alvaro_, Sir, (answered she) were without Merit,
+he possesses Advantages enough in the Bounty your Majesty is pleased to
+honour him with, to make him Master of all things, it is not that I find
+any Defect in him that I answer not his Desires: But, Sir, by what
+obstinate Power would you that I should love, if Heaven has not given me
+a Soul that is tender? And why should you pretend that I should submit
+to him, when nothing is dearer to me than my liberty? You are not so
+free, nor so insensible, as you say, (answer'd the King, blushing with
+Anger;) and if your Heart were exempt from all sorts of Affection, he
+might expect a more reasonable Return than what he finds. But imprudent
+Maid, conducted by an ill Fate, (added he in fury) what Pretensions have
+you to _Don Pedro_? Hitherto I have hid the Chagrin, which his Weakness,
+and yours give me; but it was not the less violent for being hid. And
+since you oblige me to break out, I�must tell you, that if my Son were
+not already married to _Constantia_, he should never be your Husband;
+renounce then those vain Ideas, which will cure him, and justify you.'
+
+The courageous _Agnes_ was scarce Mistress of the first Transports, at a
+Discourse so full of Contempt; but calling her Virtue to the aid of her
+Anger, she recover'd herself by the assistance of Reason: And
+considering the Outrage she receiv'd, not as coming from a great King,
+but a Man blinded and possest by _Don Alvaro_, she thought him not
+worthy of her Resentment; her fair Eyes animated themselves with so
+shining a vivacity, they answer'd for the purity of her Sentiments; and
+fixing them steadfastly on the King, 'If the Prince _Don Pedro_ have
+Weaknesses, (reply'd she, with an Air disdainful) he never communicated
+'em to me; and I am certain, I�never contributed wilfully to 'em: But to
+let you see how little I regard your Defiance, and to put my Glory in
+safety, I�will live far from you, and all that belongs to you: Yes, Sir,
+I�will quit _Coimbra_ with pleasure; and for this Man, who is so dear to
+you, (answer'd she with a noble Pride and Fierceness, of which the King
+felt all the force) for this Favourite, so worthy to possess the most
+tender Affections of a great Prince, I�assure you, that into whatever
+part of the World Fortune conducts me, I�will not carry away the least
+Remembrance of him.' At these words she made a profound Reverence, and
+made such haste from his Presence, that he could not oppose her going if
+he would.
+
+The King was now more strongly convinc'd than ever, that she favour'd
+the Passion of _Don Pedro_, and immediately went to _Constantia_, to
+inspire her with the same Thought; but she was not capable of receiving
+such Impressions, and following her own natural Inclinations, she
+generously defended the Virtue of his Actions. The King, angry to see
+her so well intentioned to her Rival, whom he would have had her hated,
+reproached her with the sweetness of her Temper, and went thence to mix
+his Anger with _Don Alvaro's_ Rage, who was totally confounded when he
+saw the Negotiation of his Master had taken no effect. The haughty Maid
+braves me then, Sir, said he to the King, and despises the Honour which
+your Bounty offered her! Why cannot I resist so fatal a Passion? But I
+must love her, in spite of my self; and if this Flame consume me, I�can
+find no way to extinguish it. What can I further do for you, replied the
+King? Alas, Sir, answered _Don Alvaro_, I must do by force, what I
+cannot otherwise hope from the proud and cruel _Agnes_. Well then, added
+the King, since it is not fit for me to authorize publickly a Violence
+in the midst of my Kingdom, chuse those of my Subjects whom you think
+most capable of serving you, and take away by force the Beauty that
+charms you; and if she do not yield to your Love, put that Power you are
+Master of in execution, to oblige her to marry you.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, ravish'd with this Proposition, which at the same time
+flatter'd both his Love and his Anger, cast himself at the Feet of the
+King, and renewed his Acknowledgments by fresh Protestations, and
+thought of nothing but employing his unjust Authority against _Agnes_.
+
+_Don Pedro_ had been about three Months absent, when _Alvaro_ undertook
+what the King counselled him to; tho' the Moderation was known to him,
+yet he feared his Presence, and would not attend the return of a Rival,
+with whom he would avoid all Disputes.
+
+One Night, when the said _Agnes_, full of her ordinary Inquietudes, in
+vain expected the God of Sleep, she heard a Noise, and after saw some
+Men unknown enter her Chamber, whose Measures being well consulted, they
+carried her out of the Palace, and putting her in a close Coach, forced
+her out of _Coimbra_, without being hinder'd by any Obstacle. She knew
+not of whom to complain, nor whom to suspect: _Don Alvaro_ seem'd too
+puissant to seek his Satisfaction this way; and she accus'd not the
+Prince of this attempt, of whom she had so favourable an Opinion:
+whatever she could think or say, she could not hinder her ill Fortune:
+They hurried her on with diligence, and before it was Day, were a
+considerable way off from the Town.
+
+As soon as Day began to break, she surveyed those that encompassed her,
+without so much as knowing one of them; and seeing that her Cries and
+Prayers were all in vain with these deaf Ravishers, she satisfied her
+self with imploring the Protection of Heaven, and abandon'd herself to
+its Conduct.
+
+While she sat thus overwhelmed with Grief, uncertain of her Destiny, she
+saw a Body of Horse advance towards the Troop which conducted her: the
+Ravishers did not shun them, thinking it to be _Don Alvaro_: but when he
+approached more near, they found it was the Prince of _Portugal_ who was
+at the head of 'em, and who, without foreseeing the occasion that would
+offer it self of serving _Agnes_, was returning to _Coimbra_ full of her
+Idea, after having performed what he ought in this Expedition.
+
+_Agnes_, who did not expect him, changed now her Opinion, and thought
+that it was the Prince that had caused her to be stolen away. 'Oh, Sir!
+(said she to him, having still the same Thought) is it you that have
+torn me from the Princess? And could so cruel a Blow come from a Hand
+that is so dear to her? What will you do with an unfortunate Creature,
+who desires nothing but Death? And why will you obscure the Glory of
+your Life, by an Artifice unworthy of you?' This Language astonish'd the
+Prince no less than the sight of _Agnes_ had done; he found by what she
+had said, that she was taken away by force; and immediately passing to
+the height of Rage, he made her understand by one only Look, that he was
+not the base Author of her trouble. 'I�tear you from _Constantia_, whose
+only Pleasure you are! replied he: What Opinion have you of _Don Pedro_?
+No, Madam, tho' you see me here, I�am altogether innocent of the
+Violence that has been done you; and there is nothing I will refuse to
+hinder it.' He then turned himself to behold the Ravishers, but his
+Presence had already scatter'd 'em, he order'd some of his Men to pursue
+'em, and to seize some of 'em, that he might know what Authority it was
+that set 'em at work.
+
+During this, _Agnes_ was no less confus'd than before; she admir'd the
+Conduct of her Destiny, that brought the Prince at a time when he was so
+necessary to her. Her Inclinations to do him justice, soon repair'd the
+Offence her Suspicions had caus'd; she was glad to have escap'd a
+Misfortune, which appear'd certain to her: but this was not a sincere
+Joy, when she consider'd that her Lover was her Deliverer, and a Lover
+worthy of all her Acknowledgments, but who owed his Heart to the most
+amiable Princess in the World.
+
+While the Prince's Men were pursuing the Ravishers of _Agnes_, he was
+left almost alone with her; and tho' he had always resolv'd to shun
+being so, yet his Constancy was not proof against so fair an Occasion:
+'Madam, said he to her, is it possible that Men born amongst those that
+obey us, should be capable of offending you? I�never thought my self
+destin'd to revenge such an Offence; but since Heaven has permitted you
+to receive it, I�will either perish or make them repent it.' 'Sir,
+replied _Agnes_, more concern'd at this Discourse than at the Enterprize
+of _Don Alvaro_, those who are wanting in their respect to the Princess
+and you, are not obliged to have any for me. I�do not in the least doubt
+that _Don Alvaro_ was the undertaker of this Enterprize; and I judged
+what I ought to fear from him, by what his Importunities have already
+made me suffer. He is sure of the King's Protection, and he will make
+him an Accomplice in his Crime: but, Sir, Heaven conducted you hither
+happily for me, and I am indebted to you for the liberty I have of
+serving the Princess yet longer.' 'You will do for _Constantia_, replied
+the Prince, what 'tis impossible not to do for you; your Goodness
+attaches you to her, and my Destiny engages me to you for ever.'
+
+The modest _Agnes_, who fear'd this Discourse as much as the Misfortune
+she had newly shunned, answer'd nothing but by down-cast Eyes; and the
+Prince, who knew the trouble she was in, left her to go to speak to his
+Men, who brought back one of those that belong'd to _Don Alvaro_, by
+whose Confession he found the truth: He pardon'd him, thinking not fit
+to punish him, who obey'd a Man whom the Weakness of his Father had
+render'd powerful.
+
+Afterwards they conducted _Agnes_ back to _Coimbra_, where her Adventure
+began to make a great Noise: the Princess was ready to die with Despair,
+and at first thought it was only a continuation of the design this fair
+Maid had of retiring; but some Women that served her having told the
+Princess, that she was carried away by Violence, _Constantia_ made her
+Complaint to the King, who regarded her not at all.
+
+'Madam, said he to her, let this fatal Plague remove it self, who takes
+from you the Heart of your Husband; and without afflicting your self for
+her absence, bless Heaven and me for�it.'
+
+The generous Princess took _Agnes's_ part with a great deal of Courage,
+and was then disputing her defence with the King, when _Don Pedro_
+arrived at _Coimbra_.
+
+The first Object that met the Prince's Eyes was _Don Alvaro_, who was
+passing thro' one of the Courts of the Palace, amidst a Croud of
+Courtiers, whom his Favour with the King drew after him. This sight made
+_Don Pedro_ rage; but that of the Princess and _Agnes_ caus'd in
+_Alvaro_ another sort of Emotion: He easily divin'd, that it was _Don
+Pedro_, who had taken her from his Men, and, if his Fury had acted what
+it would, it might have produc'd very sad effects.
+
+'_Don Alvaro_, said the Prince to him, is it thus you make use of the
+Authority which the King my Father hath given you? Have you receiv'd
+Employments and Power from him, for no other end but to do these base
+Actions, and to commit Rapes on Ladies? Are you ignorant how the
+Princess interests her self in all that concerns this Maid? And do you
+not know the tender and affectionate Esteem she has for her.' No,
+replied _Don Alvaro_, (with an Insolence that had like to have put the
+Prince past all patience) 'I am not ignorant of it, nor of the Interest
+your Heart takes in her.' 'Base and treacherous as thou art, replied the
+Prince, neither the Favour which thou hast so much abused, nor the
+Insolence which makes thee speak this, should hinder me from punishing
+thee, wert thou worthy of my Sword; but there are other ways to humble
+thy Pride, and 'tis not fit for such an Arm as mine to seek so base an
+Employment to punish such a Slave as thou art.'
+
+_Don Pedro_ went away at these Words, and left _Alvaro_ in a Rage, which
+is not to be express'd; despairing to see himself defeated in an
+Enterprize he thought so sure; and at the Contempt the Prince shewed
+him, he promis'd himself to sacrifice all to his Revenge.
+
+Tho' the King lov'd his Son, he was so prepossessed against his Passion,
+that he could not pardon him what he had done, and condemn'd him as much
+for this last act of Justice, in delivering _Agnes_, as if it had been
+the greatest of Crimes.
+
+_Elvira_, whom the sweetness of Hope flatter'd some moments, saw the
+return of _Agnes_ with a sensible Displeasure, which suffer'd her to
+think of nothing but irritating her Brother.
+
+In fine, the Prince saw the King, but instead of being receiv'd by him
+with a Joy due to the success of his Journey, he appear'd all sullen and
+out of humour. After having paid him his first Respects, and given him
+an exact account of what he had done, he spoke to him about the Violence
+committed against the Person of _Agnes de Castro_, and complain'd to him
+of it in the Name of the Princess, and of his own: 'You ought to be
+silent in this Affair, replied the King; and the Motive which makes you
+speak is so shameful for you, that I sigh and blush at it. What is it to
+you, if this Maid, whose Presence is troublesome to me, be removed
+hence, since 'tis I that desire it?' 'But, Sir, interrupted the Prince,
+what necessity is there of employing Force, Artifice, and the Night,
+when the least of your Orders had been sufficient? _Agnes_ would
+willingly have obey'd you; and if she continue at _Coimbra_, it is
+perhaps against her Will: but be it as it will, Sir, _Constantia_ is
+offended, and if were not for fear of displeasing you, (the only thing
+that retains�me) the Ravisher should not have gone unpunished.' 'How
+happy are you, replied the King, smiling with disdain, in making use of
+the Name of _Constantia_ to uphold the Interest of your Heart! You think
+I am ignorant of it, and that this unhappy Princess looks on the Injury
+you do her with Indifference. Never speak to me more of _Agnes_, (with a
+Tone very severe.) Content your self, that I pardon what's past, and
+think maturely of the Considerations I have for _Don Alvaro_, when you
+would design any thing against him.' 'Yes, Sir, replied the Prince with
+fierceness, I�will speak to you no more of _Agnes_; but _Constantia_ and
+I will never suffer, that she should be any more expos'd to the
+Insolence of your Favourite.' The King had like to have broke out into a
+Rage at this Discourse: but he had yet a rest of Prudence left that
+hinder'd him. 'Retire (said he to _Don Pedro_) and go make Reflections
+on what my Power can do, and what you owe�me.'
+
+During this Conversation, _Agnes_ was receiving from the Princess, and
+from all the Ladies of the Court, great Expressions of Joy and
+Friendship: _Constantia_ saw again her Husband, with a great deal of
+satisfaction: and far from being sorry at what he had lately done for
+_Agnes_, she privately return'd him thanks for it, and still was the
+same towards him, notwithstanding all the Jealousy which was endeavour'd
+to be inspir'd in her.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who found in his Sister a Maliciousness worthy of his
+trust, did not conceal his Fury from her. After she had made vain
+attempts to moderate it, in blotting _Agnes_ out of his Heart, seeing
+that his Disease was incurable, she made him understand, that so long as
+_Constantia_ should not be jealous, there were no hopes: That if _Agnes_
+should once be suspected by her, she would not fail of abandoning her,
+and that then it would be easy to get Satisfaction, the Prince being now
+so proud of _Constantia's_ Indulgency. In giving this Advice to her
+Brother, she promis'd to serve him effectually; and having no need of
+any body but her self to perform ill things, she recommended _Don
+Alvaro_ to manage well the King.
+
+Four Years were pass'd in that melancholy Station, and the Princess,
+besides her first dead Child, and _Ferdinando_, who was still living,
+had brought two Daughters into the World.
+
+Some days after _Don Pedro's_ return, _Elvira_, who was most dextrous in
+the Art of well-governing any wicked Design, did gain one of the
+Servants who belong'd to _Constantia's_ Chamber. She first spoke her
+fair, then overwhelm'd her with Presents and Gifts; and finding in her
+as ill a Disposition as in her self, she readily resolv'd to employ her.
+
+After she was sure of her, she compos'd a Letter, which was after writ
+over again in an unknown Hand, which she deposited in that Maid's Hands,
+that she might deliver to _Constantia_ with the first Opportunity,
+telling her, that _Agnes_ had drop'd it. This was the Substance of�it:
+
+  _I Employ not my own Hand to write to you, for Reasons that I shall
+  acquaint you with. How happy am I to have overcome all your
+  Scruples! And what Happiness shall I find in the Progress of our
+  Intrigue! The whole Course of my Life shall continually represent to
+  you the Sincerity of my Affections; pray think on the secret
+  Conversation that I require of you: I�dare not speak to you in
+  publick, therefore let me conjure you here, by all that I have
+  suffer'd, to come to-night to the Place appointed, and speak to me
+  no more of +Constantia+; for she must be content with my Esteem,
+  since my Heart can be only yours._
+
+The unfaithful _Portuguese_ serv'd _Elvira_ exactly to her Desires; and
+the very next day seeing _Agnes_ go out from the Princess, she carry'd
+_Constantia_ the Letter; which she took, and found there what she was
+far from imagining: Tenderness never produc'd an Effect more full of
+grief, than what it made her suffer. 'Alas! they are both culpable,
+(said she, sighing) and in spite of the Defence my Heart would make for
+'em, my Reason condemns 'em. Unhappy Princess, the sad subject of the
+Capriciousness of Fortune! Why dost not thou die, since thou hast not a
+Heart of Honour to revenge it self? O�_Don Pedro_! why did you give me
+your Hand, without your Heart? And thou, fair, and ungrateful! wert thou
+born to be the Misfortune of my Life, and perhaps the only cause of my
+Death?' After having given some Moments to the Violence of her Grief,
+she called the Maid, who brought her the Letter, commanding her to speak
+of it to no body, and to suffer no one to enter into her Chamber.
+
+She consider'd then of that Prince with more liberty, whose Soul she was
+not able to touch with the least Tenderness; and of the cruel Fair One
+that had betray'd her: Yet, even while her Soul was upon the Rack, she
+was willing to excuse 'em, and ready to do all she could for _Don
+Pedro_; at least, she made a firm Resolution, not to complain of him.
+
+_Elvira_ was not long without being inform'd of what had pass'd, nor of
+the Melancholy of the Princess, from whom she hop'd all she desir'd.
+
+_Agnes_, far from foreseeing this Tempest, return'd to _Constantia_; and
+hearing of her Indisposition, pass'd the rest of the Day at her
+Chamber-door, that she might from time to time learn news of her Health:
+for she was not suffer'd to come in, at which _Agnes_ was both surpriz'd
+and troubled. The Prince had the same Destiny, and was astonish'd at an
+Order which ought to have excepted him.
+
+The next day _Constantia_ appear'd, but so alter'd, that 'twas not
+difficult to imagine what she had suffer'd. _Agnes_ was the most
+impatient to approach her, and the Princess could not forbear weeping,
+They were both silent for some time, and _Constantia_ attributed this
+silence of _Agnes_ to some Remorse which she felt: and this unhappy Maid
+being able to hold no longer; 'Is it possible, Madam, (said she) that
+two Days should have taken from me all the Goodness you had for me? What
+have I done? And for what do you punish me?' The Princess regarded her
+with a languishing Look, and return'd her no Answer but Sighs. _Agnes_,
+offended with this reserve, went out with very great Dissatisfaction and
+Anger; which contributed to her being thought criminal. The Prince came
+in immediately after, and found _Constantia_ more disorder'd than usual,
+and conjur'd her in a most obliging manner to take care of her Health:
+_The greatest good for me_ (said she) _is not the Continuation of my
+Life; I�should have more care of it if I loved you less: but--_ She
+could not proceed; and the Prince, excessively afflicted at her trouble,
+sigh'd sadly, without making her any answer, which redoubled her Grief.
+Spite then began to mix it self; and all things persuading the Princess
+that they made a Sacrifice of her, she would enter into no Explanation
+with her Husband, but suffered him to go away without saying any thing
+to him.
+
+Nothing is more capable of troubling our Reason, and consuming our
+Health, than secret Notions of Jealousy in Solitude.
+
+_Constantia_, who us'd to open her Heart freely to _Agnes_, now
+believing she had deceiv'd her, abandon'd her self so absolutely to
+Grief, that she was ready to sink under it; she immediately fell sick
+with the violence of it, and all the Court was concern'd at this
+Misfortune: _Don Pedro_ was truly afflicted at it, but _Agnes_ more than
+all the World beside. _Constantia's_ Coldness towards her, made her
+continually sigh; and her Distemper created merely by fancy, caus'd her
+to reflect on every thing that offer'd it self to her Memory: so that at
+last she began even to fear her self, and to reproach her self for what
+the Princess suffer'd.
+
+But the Distemper began to be such, that they fear'd _Constantia's_
+Death, and she her self began to feel the Approaches of it. This Thought
+did not at all disquiet her: she look'd on Death as the only relief from
+all her Torments; and regarded the Despair of all that approach'd her
+without the least concern.
+
+The King, who lov'd her tenderly, and who knew her Virtue, was
+infinitely mov'd at the Extremity she was in. And _Don Alvaro_, who lost
+not the least Occasion of making him understand that it was Jealousy
+which was the cause of _Constantia's_ Distemper, did but too much
+incense him against Criminals, worthy of Compassion. The King was not of
+a Temper to conceal his Anger long: 'You give fine Examples, (said he to
+the Prince) and such as will render your Memory illustrious! The Death
+of _Constantia_ (of�which you are only to be accus'd) is the unhappy
+Fruit of your guilty Passion. Fear Heaven after this: and behold your
+self as a Monster that does not deserve to see the Light. If the
+Interest you have in my Blood did not plead for you, what ought you not
+to fear from my just Resentment? But what must not imprudent _Agnes_, to
+whom nothing ties me, expect from my hands? If _Constantia_ dies, she,
+who has the Boldness, in my Court, to cherish a foolish Flame by vain
+Hopes, and make us lose the most amiable Princess, whom thou art not
+worthy to possess, shall feel the Effects of her Indiscretion.'
+
+_Don Pedro_ knew very well, that _Constantia_ was not ignorant of his
+Sentiments for _Agnes_; but he knew also with what Moderation she
+receiv'd it: He was very sensible of the King's Reproaches; but as his
+Fault was not voluntary, and that a commanding Power, a�fatal Star, had
+forc'd him to love in spite of himself, he appear'd afflicted and
+confus'd: 'You condemn me, Sir, (answer'd�he) without having well
+examin'd me; and if my Intentions were known to you; perhaps you would
+not find me so criminal: I�would take the Princess for my Judge, whom
+you say I sacrifice, if she were in a condition to be consulted. If I am
+guilty of any Weakness, her Justice never reproach'd me for it; and my
+Tongue never inform'd _Agnes_ of it. But suppose I have committed any
+Fault, why would you punish an innocent Lady, who perhaps condemns me
+for it as much as you? Ah, Villain! (interrupted the King) she has but
+too much favour'd you: You would not have lov'd thus long, had she not
+made you some Returns. Sir, (reply'd the Prince, pierced with Grief for
+the Outrage that was committed against _Agnes_) you offend a Virtue,
+than which nothing can be purer; and those Expressions which break from
+your Choler, are not worthy of you. _Agnes_ never granted me any
+Favours; I�never asked any of her; and I protest to Heaven, I�never
+thought of any thing contrary to the Duty I owe _Constantia_.'
+
+As they thus argued, one of the Princess's Women came all in Tears to
+acquaint _Don Pedro_, that the Princess was in the last Extremities of
+Life: 'Go see thy fatal Work, (said the King) and expect from a too-long
+patient Father the Usage thou deservest.'
+
+The Prince ran to _Constantia_, whom he found dying, and _Agnes_ in a
+swoon, in the Arms of some of the Ladies. What caus'd this double
+Calamity, was, that _Agnes_, who could suffer no longer the Indifferency
+of the Princess, had conjur'd her to tell her what was her Crime, and
+either to take her Life from her, or restore her to her Friendship.
+
+_Constantia_, who found she must die, could no longer keep her secret
+Affliction from _Agnes_; and after some Words, which were a Preparation
+to the sad Explanation, she shewed her that fatal Billet, which _Elvira_
+had caus'd to be written: 'Ah, Madam! (cry'd out the fair _Agnes_, after
+having read�it) Ah, Madam! how many cruel Inquietudes had you spared me
+had you open'd your Heart to me with your wonted Bounty! 'Tis easy to
+see that this Letter is counterfeit, and that I have Enemies without
+Compassion. Could you believe the Prince so imprudent, to make use of
+any other Hand but his own, on an occasion like this? And do you believe
+me so simple to keep about me this Testimony of my Shame, with so little
+Precaution? You are neither betray'd by your Husband nor me; I�attest
+Heaven, and those Efforts I have made to leave _Coimbra_. Alas, my dear
+Princess, how little have you known her, whom you have so much honoured?
+Do not believe that when I have justify'd my self, I�will have any more
+Communication with the World: No, no; there will be no Retreat far
+enough from hence for me. I�will take care to hide this unlucky Face,
+where it shall be sure to do no more harm.'
+
+The Princess touched at this Discourse, and the Tears of _Agnes_,
+press'd her hand, which she held in hers; and fixing Looks upon her
+capable of moving Pity in the most insensible Souls, 'If I have
+committed any Offence, my dear _Agnes_, (answer'd she) Death, which I
+expect in a moment, shall revenge it. I�ought also to protest to you,
+That I have not ceas'd loving you, and that I believe every thing you
+have said, giving you back my most tender Affections.'
+
+'Twas at this time that the Grief, which equally oppress'd 'em, put the
+Princess into such an Extremity, that they sent for the Prince. He came,
+and found himself almost without Life or Motion at this sight. And what
+secret Motive soever might call him to the aid of _Agnes_, 'twas to
+_Constantia_ he ran. The Princess, who finding her last Moments drawing
+on, by a cold Sweat that cover'd her all over; and finding she had no
+more business with Life, and causing those Persons she most suspected to
+retire, 'Sir, (said she to _Don Pedro_) if I abandon Life without
+regret, it is not without Trouble that I part with you. But, Prince, we
+must vanquish when we come to die; and I will forget my self wholly, to
+think of nothing but of you. I�have no Reproaches to make against you,
+knowing that 'tis Inclination that disposes Hearts, and not Reason.
+_Agnes_ is beautiful enough to inspire the most ardent Passion, and
+virtuous enough to deserve the first Fortunes in the World. I�ask her,
+once more, pardon for the Injustice I have done her, and recommend her
+to you, as a Person most dear to me. Promise me, my dear Prince, before
+I expire, to give her my Place in your Throne: it cannot be better
+fill'd: you cannot chuse a Princess more perfect for your People, nor a
+better Mother for our little Children. And you my dear and faithful
+_Agnes_ (pursu'd she) listen not to a Virtue too scrupulous, that may
+make any opposition to the Prince of _Portugal_: Refuse him not a Heart
+of which he is worthy; and give him that Friendship which you had for
+me, with that which is due to his Merit. Take care of my little
+_Fernando_, and the two young Princesses: let them find me in you, and
+speak to them sometimes of me. Adieu, live both of you happy, and
+receive my last Embraces.'
+
+The afflicted _Agnes_, who had recover'd a little her Forces, lost them
+again a second time; Her Weakness was follow'd with Convulsions so
+vehement, that they were afraid of her Life; but _Don Pedro_ never
+removed from _Constantia_: 'What, Madam (said�he) you will leave me
+then; and you think 'tis for my Good. Alas, _Constantia_! if my Heart
+has committed an Outrage against you, your Virtue has sufficiently
+revenged you on me in spite of you. Can you think me so barbarous?'--As
+he was going on, he saw Death shut the Eyes of the most generous
+Princess for ever; and he was within a very little of following her.
+
+But what Loads of Grief did this bring upon _Agnes_, when she found in
+that Interval, wherein Life and Death were struggling in her Soul, that
+_Constantia_ was newly expir'd! She would then have taken away her own
+Life, and have let her Despair fully appear.
+
+At the noise of the Death of the Princess, the Town and the Palace were
+all in Tears. _Elvira_, who saw then _Don Pedro_ free to engage himself,
+repented of having contributed to the Death of _Constantia_; and
+thinking her self the Cause of it, promis'd in her Griefs never to
+pardon herself.
+
+She had need of being guarded several days together; during which time
+she fail'd not incessantly to weep. And the Prince gave all those days
+to deepest Mourning. But when the first Emotions were past, those of his
+Love made him feel that he was still the same.
+
+He was a long time without seeing _Agnes_; but this Absence of his
+served only to make her appear the more charming when he did see her.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who was afraid of the Liberty of the Prince, made new
+Efforts to move _Agnes de Castro_, who was now become insensible to
+every thing but Grief. _Elvira_, who was willing to make the best of the
+Design she had begun, consulted all her Womens Arts, and the Delicacy of
+her Wit, to revive the Flames with which the Prince once burnt for her:
+But his Constancy was bounded, and it was _Agnes_ alone that was to
+reign over his Heart. She had taken a firm Resolution, since the Death
+of _Constantia_, to pass the rest of her Days in a solitary Retreat. In
+spite of the precaution she took to hide this Design, the Prince was
+informed of it, and did all he was able to dispose his Constancy and
+Fortitude to it. He thought himself stronger than he really was; but
+after he had well consulted his Heart, he found but too well how
+necessary the Presence of _Agnes_ was to him. 'Madam (said he to her one
+day, with a Heart big, and his Eyes in Tears) which Action of my Life
+has made you determine my Death? Tho' I�never told you how much I loved
+you, yet I am persuaded you are not ignorant of it. I�was constrained to
+be silent during some Years for your sake, for _Constantia's_, and my
+own; but 'tis not possible for me to put this force upon my Heart for
+ever: I�must once at least tell you how it languishes. Receive then the
+Assurances of a Passion, full of Respect and Ardour, with an offer of my
+Fortune, which I wish not better, but for your advantage.'
+
+_Agnes_ answer'd not immediately to these words, but with abundance of
+Tears; which having wiped away, and beholding _Don Pedro_ with an air
+which made him easily comprehend she did not agree with his Desires; 'If
+I were capable of the Weakness with which you'd inspire me, you'd be
+obliged to punish me for it: What! (said she) _Constantia_ is scarce
+bury'd, and you would have me offend her! No, my Prince (added she with
+more Softness) no, no, she whom you have heap'd so many Favours on, will
+not call down the Anger of Heaven, and the Contempt of Men upon her, by
+an Action so perfidious. Be not obstinate then in a Design in which I
+will never shew you Favour. You owe to _Constantia_, after her Death,
+a�Fidelity that may justify you: and I, to repair the Ills I have made
+her suffer ought to shun all converse with you.' 'Go, Madam (reply'd the
+Prince, growing pale) go, and expect the News of my Death; in that part
+of the World, whither your Cruelty shall lead you, the News shall follow
+close after; you shall quickly hear of it: and I will go seek it in
+those Wars which reign among my Neighbours.'
+
+These Words made the fair _Agnes de Castro_ perceive that her Innocency
+was not so great as she imagined, and that her Heart interested it self
+in the Preservation of _Don Pedro_: 'You ought, Sir, to preserve your
+Life (reply'd _Agnes_) for the sake of the little Prince and Princesses,
+which _Constantia_ has left you. Would you abandon their Youth
+(continued she, with a tender Tone) to the Cruelty of _Don Alvaro_?
+Live! Sir, live! and let the unhappy _Agnes_ be the only Sacrifice.'
+'Alas, cruel Maid! (interrupted _Don Pedro_) Why do you command me to
+live, if I cannot live with you? Is it an effect of your Hatred?' 'No,
+Sir, (reply'd _Agnes_) I do not hate you; and I wish to God that I could
+be able to defend my self against the Weakness with which I find my self
+possess'd. Oblige me to say no more, Sir: you see my Blushes, interpret
+them as you please: but consider yet, that the less Aversion I find I
+have to you, the more culpable I am; and that I ought no more to see, or
+speak to you. In fine, Sir, if you oppose my Retreat, I�declare to you,
+that _Don Alvaro_, as odious as he is to me, shall serve for a Defence
+against you; and that I will sooner consent to marry a Man I abhor, than
+to favour a Passion that cost _Constantia_ her Life.' 'Well then,
+_Agnes_ (reply'd the Prince, with Looks all languishing and dying)
+follow the Motions which barbarous Virtue inspires you with; take these
+Measures you judge necessary against an unfortunate Lover, and enjoy the
+Glory of having cruelly refused�me.'
+
+At these Words he went away; and troubled as _Agnes_ was, she would not
+stay him: Her Courage combated with her Grief, and she thought now, more
+than ever, of departing.
+
+'Twas difficult for her to go out of _Coimbra_; and not to defer what
+appear'd to her so necessary, she went immediately to the Apartment of
+the King, notwithstanding the Interest of _Don Alvaro_. The King
+received her with a Countenance severe, not being able to consent to
+what she demanded: _You shall not go hence, +(said�he)+ and if you are
+wise, you shall enjoy here with +Don Alvaro+ both my Friendship and my
+Favour. I�have taken another Resolution (+answer'd+ Agnes) and the World
+has no part in it. You will accept +Don Pedro (reply'd the King)+ his
+Fortune is sufficient to satisfy an ambitious Maid: but you will not
+succeed +Constantia+, who lov'd you so tenderly; and +Spain+ has
+Princesses enough to fill up part of the Throne which I shall leave him.
+Sir, (+reply'd+ Agnes, +piqu'd at this Discourse+) if I had a
+Disposition to love, and a Design to marry, perhaps the Prince might be
+the only Person on whom I would fix it: And you know, if my Ancestors
+did not possess Crowns, yet they were worthy to wear 'em. But let it be
+how it will, I�am resolved to depart, and to remain no longer a Slave in
+a Place to which I came free._
+
+This bold Answer, which shew'd the Character of _Agnes_, anger'd and
+astonished the King. _You shall go when we think fit +(reply'd�he)+ and
+without being a Slave at +Coimbra+, you shall attend our order._
+
+_Agnes_ saw she must stay, and was so griev'd at it, that she kept her
+Chamber several days, without daring to inform herself of the Prince;
+and this Retirement spared her the Affliction of being visited by _Don
+Alvaro_.
+
+During this, _Don Pedro_ fell sick, and was in so great danger, that
+there was a general apprehension of his Death. _Agnes_ did not in the
+least doubt, but it was an effect of his Discontent: she thought at
+first she had Strength and Resolution enough to see him die, rather than
+to favour him; but had she reflected a little, she had soon been
+convinc'd to the contrary. She found not in her Heart that cruel
+Constancy she thought there so well established: She felt Pains and
+Inquietude, shed Tears, made Wishes; and, in fine, discover'd that she
+lov'd.
+
+'Twas impossible to see the Heir of the Crown, a Prince that deserved so
+well, even at the point of Death, without a general Affliction. The
+People who loved him, pass'd whole days at the Palace-gate to hear News
+of him: The Court was all over-whelm'd with Grief.
+
+_Don Alvaro_ knew very well how to conceal a malicious Joy, under an
+Appearance of Sadness. _Elvira_, full of Tenderness, and perhaps of
+Remorse, suffer'd also on her side. The King, altho' he condemned the
+Love of his Son, yet still had a Tenderness for him, and could not
+resolve to lose him. _Agnes de Castro_, who knew the Cause of his
+Distemper, expected the End of it with strange Anxieties: In fine, after
+a Month had pass'd away in Fears, they began to have a little hopes of
+his Recovery. The Prince and _Don Alvaro_ were the only Persons that
+were not glad of it: But _Agnes_ rejoic'd enough for all the rest.
+
+_Don Pedro_, seeing that he must live whether he wou'd or no, thought of
+nothing but passing his days in melancholy and discontent: As soon as he
+was in a condition to walk, he sought out the most solitary Places, and
+gain'd so much upon his own Weakness, to go every where, where _Agnes_
+was not; but her Idea followed him always, and his Memory, faithful to
+represent her to him with all her Charms, render'd her always dangerous.
+
+One day, when they had carry'd him into the Garden, he sought out a
+Labyrinth which was at the farthest part of it, to hide his Melancholy,
+during some hours; there he found the sad _Agnes_, whom Grief, little
+different from his, had brought thither; the sight of her whom he
+expected not, made him tremble: She saw by his pale and meagre Face the
+remains of his Distemper; his Eyes full of Languishment troubled her,
+and tho' her Desire was so great to have fled from him, an unknown Power
+stopt her, and 'twas impossible for her to�go.
+
+After some Moments of Silence, which many Sighs interrupted, _Don Pedro_
+rais'd himself from the Place where his Weakness had forced him to sit;
+he made _Agnes_ see, as he approach'd her, the sad Marks of his
+Sufferings: and not content with the Pity he saw in her Eyes, _You have
+resolved my Death then, cruel +Agnes+, +(said�he)+ my desire was the
+same with yours; but Heaven has thought fit to reserve me for other
+Misfortunes, and I see you again, as unhappy, but more in love than
+ever._
+
+There was no need of these Words to move _Agnes_ to compassion, the
+Languishment of the Prince spoke enough; and the Heart of this fair Maid
+was but too much disposed to yield it self: She thought then that
+_Constantia_ ought to be satisfy'd; Love, which combated for _Don
+Pedro_, triumphed over Friendship, and found that happy Moment, for
+which the Prince of _Portugal_, had so long sighed.
+
+_Do not reproach me, for that which has cost me more than you, Sir,
++(replied she)+ and do not accuse a Heart, which is neither ingrateful
+nor barbarous: and I must tell you, that I love you. But now I have made
+you that Confession, what is it farther that you require of me?_ _Don
+Pedro_, who expected not a Change so favourable, felt a double
+Satisfaction; and falling at the Feet of _Agnes_, he express'd more by
+the Silence his Passion created, than he could have done by the most
+eloquent Words.
+
+After having known all his good Fortune, he then consulted with the
+amiable _Agnes_, what was to be feared from the King; they concluded
+that the cruel Billet, which so troubled the last days of _Constantia_,
+could come from none but _Elvira_ and _Don Alvaro_. The Prince, who knew
+that his Father had searched already an Alliance for him, and was
+resolv'd on his Favourite's marrying _Agnes_, conjur'd her so tenderly
+to prevent these Persecutions, by consenting to a secret Marriage, that,
+after having a long time consider'd, she at last consented. _I�will do
+what you will have me_ (said she) _tho' I�presage nothing but fatal
+Events from it; all my Blood turns to Ice, when I think of this
+Marriage, and the Image of +Constantia+ seems to hinder me from
+doing�it._
+
+The amorous Prince surmounted all her Scruples, and separated himself
+from _Agnes_, with a Satisfaction which soon redoubled his Forces; he
+saw her afterward with the Pleasure of a Mystery: And the Day of their
+Union being arrived, _Don Gill_, Bishop of _Guarda_, performed the
+Ceremony of the Marriage, in the Presence of several Witnesses, faithful
+to _Don Pedro_, who saw him Possessor of all the Charms of the fair
+_Agnes_.
+
+She lived not the more peaceable for belonging to the Prince of
+_Portugal_; her Enemies, who continually persecuted her, left her not
+without Troubles: and the King, whom her Refusal inrag'd, laid his
+absolute Commands on her to marry _Don Alvaro_, with Threats to force
+her to it, if she continu'd rebellious.
+
+The Prince took loudly her part; and this, join'd to the Refusal he made
+of marrying the Princess of _Arragon_, caus'd Suspicions of the Truth in
+the King his Father. He was seconded by those that were too much
+interested, not to unriddle this Secret. _Don Alvaro_ and his Sister
+acted with so much care, gave so many Gifts, and made so many Promises,
+that they discover'd the secret Engagements of _Don Pedro_ and _Agnes_.
+
+The King wanted but little of breaking out into all the Rage and Fury so
+great a Disappointment could inspire him with, against the Princess.
+_Don Alvaro_, whose Love was changed into the most violent Hatred,
+appeased the first Transports of the King, by making him comprehend,
+that if they could break the Marriage of 'em, that would not be a
+sufficient Revenge; and so poison'd the Soul of the King, to consent to
+the Death of _Agnes_.
+
+The barbarous _Don Alvaro_ offered his Arm for this terrible Execution,
+and his Rage was Security for the Sacrifice.
+
+The King, who thought the Glory of his Family disgraced by this
+Alliance, and his own in particular in the Procedure of his Son, gave
+full Power to this Murderer, to make the innocent _Agnes_ a Victim to
+his Rage.
+
+It was not easy to execute this horrid Design: Tho' the Prince saw
+_Agnes_ but in secret, yet all his Cares were still awake for her, and
+he was marry'd to her above a Year, before _Don Alvaro_ could find out
+an opportunity so long sought for.
+
+The Prince diverted himself but little, and very rarely went far from
+_Coimbra_; but on a Day, an unfortunate Day, and marked out by Heaven
+for an unheard-of and horrid Assassination, he made a Party to hunt at a
+fine House, which the King of _Portugal_ had near the City.
+
+_Agnes_ lov'd every thing that gave the Prince satisfaction; but a
+secret Trouble made her apprehend some Misfortune in this unhappy
+Journey. _Sir_, (said she to him, alarm'd, without knowing the Reason
+why) _I�tremble, seeing you today as it were designed the last of my
+Life: Preserve your self, my dear Prince; and tho' the Exercise you take
+be not very dangerous, beware of the least Hazards, and bring me back
+all that I trust with you. Don Pedro_, who had never found her so
+handsome and so charming before, embraced her several times, and went
+out of the Palace with his Followers, with a Design not to return till
+the next Day.
+
+He was no sooner gone, but the cruel _Don Alvaro_ prepared himself for
+the Execution he had resolv'd on; he thought it of that importance, that
+it required more Hands than his own, and so chose for his Companions
+_Don Lopez Pacheo_, and _Pedro Cuello_, two Monsters like himself, whose
+Cruelty he was assur'd of by the Presents he had made�'em.
+
+They waited the coming of the Night, and the lovely _Agnes_ was in her
+first Sleep, which was the last of her Life, when these Assassins
+approach'd her Bed. Nothing made resistance to _Don Alvaro_, who could
+do every thing, and whom the blackest Furies introduced to _Agnes_; she
+waken'd, and opening her Curtains, saw, by the Candle burning in her
+Chamber, the Ponyard with which _Don Alvaro_ was armed; he having his
+Face not cover'd, she easily knew him, and forgetting herself, to think
+of nothing but the Prince: _Just Heaven_ (said she, lifting up her fine
+Eyes) _if you will revenge +Constantia+, satisfy your self with my Blood
+only, and spare that of_ Don Pedro. The barbarous Man that heard her,
+gave her not time to say more; and finding he could never (by�all he
+could do by Love) touch the Heart of the fair _Agnes_, he pierc'd it
+with his Ponyard: his Accomplices gave her several Wounds, tho' there
+was no necessity of so many to put an end to an innocent Life.
+
+What a sad Spectacle was this for those who approach'd her Bed the next
+day! And what dismal News was this to the unfortunate Prince of
+_Portugal_! He returned to _Coimbra_ at the first report of this
+Adventure, and saw what had certainly cost him his Life, if Men could
+die of Grief. After having a thousand times embraced the bloody Body of
+_Agnes_, and said all that a just Despair could inspire him with, he ran
+like a Mad-man into the Palace, demanding the Murderers of his Wife, of
+things that could not hear him. In fine, he saw the King, and without
+observing any respect, he gave a loose to his Resentment: after having
+rail'd a long time, overwhelm'd with Grief, he fell into a Swoon, which
+continu'd all that day. They carry'd him into his Apartment: and the
+King, believing that his Misfortune would prove his Cure, repented not
+of what he had permitted.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, and the two other Assassins, quitted _Coimbra_. This
+Absence of theirs made 'em appear guilty of the Crime; for which the
+afflicted Prince vow'd a speedy Vengeance to the Ghost of his lovely
+_Agnes_, resolving to pursue them to the uttermost part of the Universe;
+He got a considerable number of Men together, sufficient to have made
+resistance, even to the King of _Portugal_ himself, if he should yet
+take the part of the Murderers: with these he ravaged the whole Country,
+as far as the _Duero_ Waters, and carry'd on a War, even till the Death
+of the King, continually mixing Tears with Blood, which he gave to the
+revenge of his dearest _Agnes_.
+
+
+Such was the deplorable End of the unfortunate Love of _Don Pedro_ of
+_Portugal_, and of the fair _Agnes de Castro_, whose Remembrance he
+faithfully preserv'd in his Heart, even upon the Throne, to which he
+mounted by the Right of his Birth, after the Death of the King.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; OR, THE FAIR VOW-BREAKER.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+In the Epistle Dedicatory to Antony Hammond, Esq., of Somersham-Place,
+prefacing that pathetic tragedy, _The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent
+Adultery_[1] (4to, 1694), Southerne writes: 'I�took the Hint of the
+Tragical part of this Play from a Novel of Mrs. _Behn's_, call'd _The
+Fair Vow-Breaker_; you will forgive me for calling it a Hint, when you
+find I have little more than borrow'd the Question, how far such a
+Distress was to be carry'd, upon the Misfortune of a Woman's having
+innocently two Husbands, at the same time'.
+
+In the many collected editions of Mrs. Behn's popular novels and
+histories, from the first, published under the auspices of Gildon in
+1696, to the ninth (2�vols, 12mo, London, 1751), there appears, however,
+no such novel as _The Fair Vow-Breaker_, but on the other hand all
+contain _The Nun; or, the Perjur'd Beauty_. For over two hundred years
+then, critics, theatrical historians, bibliographers alike have laid
+down that _The Fair Vow-Breaker_ is merely another title for _The Nun;
+or, The Perjur'd Beauty_, and that it is to this romance we must look
+for the source of Southerne's tragedy. The slight dissimilarity of name
+was truly of no great account. On the title-page of another novel we
+have _The Fair Jilt; or, The History of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_; on
+the half-title of the same _The Fair Hypocrite; or, The Amours of Prince
+Tarquin and Miranda_ (12mo, 1688). And so Thomas Evans in the preface to
+his edition of Southerne (3�vols, 1774), writing the dramatist's life,
+says: 'the plot by the author's confession is taken from a novel of Mrs.
+Behn's called _The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_'. All the modern
+writers have duly, but wrongly, accepted this; and Miss Charlotte E.
+Morgan in her monograph, _The English Novel till 1749_, informs us in
+more than one place that _The Fair Vow-Breaker_ (12mo, 1689) was the
+name of the editio princeps of _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_.
+
+A crux, however, was soon apparent. Upon investigation it is obvious
+that the plot of _The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_ has
+simply nothing in common with _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_. Mrs.
+Behn's Ardelia is a mere coquette who through her trifling with three
+different men is responsible for five deaths: her lovers', Elvira's, and
+her own. Isabella, Southerne's heroine, on the other hand, falls a sad
+victim to the machinations of Carlos, her wicked brother-in-law. She is
+virtuous and constant; Ardelia is a jade capable of heartless treachery.
+Both novel and play end tragically it is true, but from entirely
+different motives and in a dissimilar manner. There is no likeness
+between them.
+
+Whence then did Southerne derive his plot, and what exactly did he mean
+by the statement that he owed 'the Hint of the Tragical part' of his
+drama to a novel of Mrs. Behn's?
+
+Professor Paul Hamelius of Li�ge set out to solve the difficulty, and in
+a scholarly article (_Modern Language Review_, July, 1909), he marshals
+the facts and seeks a solution. 'Among her [Mrs. Behn's] collected
+novels'[2] he writes 'there is one entitled _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd
+Beauty_ and Mr. Gosse has kindly informed me that the story is identical
+with _The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_ which appears in the editio
+princeps of 1689 (inaccessible to�me).' Unfortunately he can find no
+analogy and is obliged to draw attention to other sources. He points to
+_The Virgin Captive_, the fifth story in Roger L'Estrange's _The Spanish
+Decameron_ (1687). Again: there is the famous legend of the lovers of
+Teruel as dramatized in 1638 by Juan Perez de Montalvan, _Los Amantes de
+Teruel_. An earlier comedia exists on the same subject written by A.�Rey
+de Artieda, 1581, and yet another play by Tirso de Molina, 1635, based
+on Artieda. Hamelius was obviously not satisfied with his researches,
+and with a half-suggestion that Southerne may have merely intended to
+pay a compliment to his 'literary friend Mrs. Behn,' his conclusion is
+that 'the question is naturally still open whether Southerne was not
+drawing from some more immediate source--possibly even from some lost
+version of the story by Mrs. Behn herself.'
+
+In the course of my preparing the present edition of Mrs. Behn's
+complete works, Mr. Gosse, adding yet another to innumerable kindnesses
+and encouragements, entrusted me with a little volume[3] from his
+private library: _The History of the Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_
+(12mo, 1689, Licensed 22 October, 1688), and I soon found this to be the
+immediate source of Southerne's tragedy, a�totally different novel from
+_The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_, and one, moreover, which has never
+till now been included in any edition of Mrs. Behn's works or, indeed,
+reprinted in any form. It were superfluous to compare novel and tragedy
+detail by detail. Many striking, many minor points are the same in each.
+In several instances the nomenclature has been preserved. The chief
+divergence is, of course, the main catastrophe. Mrs. Behn's execution
+could ill have been represented on the boards, and Southerne's heroine,
+the victim of villainies and intrigue, is, it must be confessed, an
+infinitely more pathetic figure than guilty Isabella in the romance.
+
+The story of a man returning after long absence and finding his spouse
+(or�betrothed) wedded to another, familiarized to the generality of
+modern readers by Tennyson's _Enoch Arden_, occurs in every shape and
+tongue. No. 69 of _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ is _L'Honneste femme �
+Deux Maris_.[4] A�more famous exemplar we have in the _Decameron_, Day
+IV, Novella 8, whose rubric runs: 'Girolamo ama la Salvestra: va,
+costretto da' prieghi della madre, a�Parigi: torna, e�truovala maritata:
+entrale di nascoso in casa, e�muorle allato; e�portato in una chiesa,
+muore la Salvestra allata a lui.'
+
+Scenes of the amusing underplot of _The Fatal Marriage_ which contain
+some excellent comedy, Southerne took directly from _The Night Walker;
+or, The Little Thief_ (printed as Fletcher's in 1640 and 'corrected by
+Shirley' in 1633 according to Herbert's license). The purgatorial farce
+may be traced to the _Decameron_, Day III, 8. 'Ferondo, mangiata certa
+polvere, �sotterrato per morto: e�dall' abate, chi la moglie di lui si
+gode, tratto dalla sepoltura, �messo in prigione e fattogli credere,
+che egli � in purgatoro; e�poi risuscitato .�.�.' It is the _Feronde;
+ou, le Purgatoire_ of La Fontaine.
+
+_The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_ long kept the stage.[5]
+On 2 December, 1757, Garrick's version, which omitting the comic relief
+weakens and considerably shortens the play, was produced at Drury Lane
+with himself as Biron and Mrs. Cibber as Isabella. The actual name of
+the tragedy, however, was not changed to _Isabella_ till some years
+after. Mrs. Barry, the original Isabella, was acknowledged supreme in
+this tragedy, and our greatest actresses, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. Crawford,
+Miss Young, Mrs. Siddons, Miss O'Neill, have all triumphed in the r�le.
+
+    [Footnote 1: This has nothing to do with Scarron's novel, _L'
+    Innocent Adult�re_ which translated was so popular in the 17th and
+    18th centuries. Bellmour carried it in his pocket when he went
+    a-courting Laetitia, to the horror of old Fondlewife who
+    discovered the tome, (_The Old Batchelor_, 1693), and Lydia
+    Languish was partial to its perusal in 1775.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: Hamelius used the collected edition of 1705.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: It is interesting to note that the book originally
+    belonged to Scott's friend and critic, Charles Kirkpatrick
+    Sharpe.]
+
+    [Footnote 4: Reproduced by Celio Malespini _Ducento Novelle_, No.
+    9�(Venice, 4to, 1609, but probably written about thirty years
+    before).]
+
+    [Footnote 5: A French prose translation of Southerne is to be
+    found in Vol. VIII of _Le The�tre Anglois_, Londres, 1746. It is
+    entitled _L'Adult�re Innocent_; but the comic underplot is very
+    sketchily analyzed, scene by scene, and the whole is very mediocre
+    withal.]
+
+
+
+
+  To the Most Illustrious Princess,
+  The Dutchess of Mazarine.
+
+  Madam,
+
+There are none of an Illustrious Quality, who have not been made, by
+some Poet or other, the Patronesses of his Distress'd Hero, or
+Unfortunate Damsel; and such Addresses are Tributes, due only to the
+most Elevated, where they have always been very well receiv'd, since
+they are the greatest Testimonies we can give, of our Esteem and
+Veneration.
+
+Madam, when I survey'd the whole Toor of Ladies at Court, which was
+adorn'd by you, who appear'd there with a Grace and Majesty, peculiar to
+Your Great Self only, mix'd with an irresistible Air of Sweetness,
+Generosity, and Wit, I�was impatient for an Opportunity, to tell Your
+Grace, how infinitely one of Your own Sex ador'd You, and that, among
+all the numerous Conquest, Your Grace has made over the Hearts of Men,
+Your Grace had not subdu'd a more entire Slave; I�assure you, Madam,
+there is neither Compliment nor Poetry, in this humble Declaration, but
+a Truth, which has cost me a great deal of Inquietude, for that Fortune
+has not set me in such a Station, as might justifie my Pretence to the
+honour and satisfaction of being ever near Your Grace, to view eternally
+that lovely Person, and hear that surprizing Wit; what can be more
+grateful to a Heart, than so great, and so agreeable, an Entertainment?
+And how few Objects are there, that can render it so entire a Pleasure,
+as at once to hear you speak, and to look upon your Beauty? A�Beauty
+that is heighten'd, if possible, with an air of Negligence, in Dress,
+wholly Charming, as if your Beauty disdain'd those little Arts of your
+Sex, whose Nicety alone is their greatest Charm, while yours, Madam,
+even without the Assistance of your exalted Birth, begets an Awe and
+Reverence in all that do approach you, and every one is proud, and
+pleas'd, in paying you Homage their several ways, according to their
+Capacities and Talents; mine, Madam, can only be exprest by my Pen,
+which would be infinitely honour'd, in being permitted to celebrate your
+great Name for ever, and perpetually to serve, where it has so great an
+inclination.
+
+In the mean time, Madam, I presume to lay this little Trifle at your
+Feet; the Story is true, as it is on the Records of the Town, where it
+was transacted; and if my fair unfortunate VOW-BREAKER do not deserve
+the honour of your Graces Protection, at least, she will be found worthy
+of your Pity; which will be a sufficient Glory, both for her, and,
+
+    Madam,
+  Your Graces most humble,
+      and most obedient Servant,
+          A. BEHN.
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker.
+
+
+Of all the sins, incident to Human Nature, there is none, of which
+Heaven has took so particular, visible, and frequent Notice, and
+Revenge, as on that of _Violated Vows_, which never go unpunished; and
+the _Cupids_ may boast what they will, for the encouragement of their
+Trade of Love, that Heaven never takes cognisance of Lovers broken Vows
+and Oaths, and that 'tis the only Perjury that escapes the Anger of the
+_Gods_; But I verily believe, if it were search'd into, we should find
+these frequent Perjuries, that pass in the World for so many Gallantries
+only, to be the occasion of so many unhappy Marriages, and the cause of
+all those Misfortunes, which are so frequent to the Nuptiall'd Pair. For
+not one of a Thousand, but, either on his side, or on hers, has been
+perjur'd, and broke Vows made to some fond believing Wretch, whom they
+have abandon'd and undone. What Man that does not boast of the Numbers
+he has thus ruin'd, and, who does not glory in the shameful Triumph?
+Nay, what Woman, almost, has not a pleasure in Deceiving, taught,
+perhaps, at first, by some dear false one, who had fatally instructed
+her Youth in an Art she ever after practis'd, in Revenge on all those
+she could be too hard for, and conquer at their own Weapons? For,
+without all dispute, Women are by Nature more Constant and Just, than
+Men, and did not their first Lovers teach them the trick of Change, they
+would be _Doves_, that would never quit their Mate, and, like _Indian_
+Wives, would leap alive into the Graves of their deceased Lovers, and be
+buried quick with 'em. But Customs of Countries change even Nature her
+self, and long Habit takes her place: The Women are taught, by the Lives
+of the Men, to live up to all their Vices, and are become almost as
+inconstant; and 'tis but Modesty that makes the difference, and, hardly,
+inclination; so deprav'd the nicest Appetites grow in time, by bad
+Examples.
+
+But, as there are degrees of Vows, so there are degrees of Punishments
+for Vows, there are solemn Matrimonial Vows, such as contract and are
+the most effectual Marriage, and have the most reason to be so; there
+are a thousand Vows and Friendships, that pass between Man and Man, on a
+thousand Occasions; but there is another Vow, call'd a _Sacred Vow_,
+made to God only; and, by which, we oblige our selves eternally to serve
+him with all Chastity and Devotion: This Vow is only taken, and made, by
+those that enter into Holy Orders, and, of all broken Vows, these are
+those, that receive the most severe and notorious Revenges of God; and I
+am almost certain, there is not one Example to be produc'd in the World,
+where Perjuries of this nature have past unpunish'd, nay, that have not
+been persu'd with the greatest and most rigorous of Punishments. I�could
+my self, of my own knowledge, give an hundred Examples of the fatal
+Consequences of the Violation of Sacred Vows; and who ever make it their
+business, and are curious in the search of such Misfortunes, shall find,
+as I say, that they never go unregarded.
+
+The young Beauty therefore, who dedicates her self to Heaven, and weds
+her self for ever to the service of God, ought, first, very well to
+consider the Self-denial she is going to put upon her youth, her fickle
+faithless deceiving Youth, of one Opinion to day, and of another to
+morrow; like Flowers, which never remain in one state or fashion, but
+bud to day, and blow by insensible degrees, and decay as imperceptibly.
+The Resolution, we promise, and believe we shall maintain, is not in our
+power, and nothing is so deceitful as human Hearts.
+
+I once was design'd an humble Votary in the House of Devotion, but
+fancying my self not endu'd with an obstinacy of Mind, great enough to
+secure me from the Efforts and Vanities of the World, I�rather chose to
+deny my self that Content I could not certainly promise my self, than to
+languish (as�I have seen some�do) in a certain Affliction; tho'
+possibly, since, I�have sufficiently bewailed that mistaken and
+inconsiderate Approbation and Preference of the false ungrateful World,
+(full of nothing but Nonsense, Noise, false Notions, and Contradiction)
+before the Innocence and Quiet of a Cloyster; nevertheless, I�could
+wish, for the prevention of abundance of Mischiefs and Miseries, that
+Nunneries and Marriages were not to be enter'd into, 'till the Maid, so
+destin'd, were of a mature Age to make her own Choice; and that Parents
+would not make use of their justly assum'd Authority to compel their
+Children, neither to the one or the other; but since I cannot alter
+Custom, nor shall ever be allow'd to make new Laws, or rectify the old
+ones, I�must leave the Young Nuns inclos'd to their best Endeavours, of
+making a Virtue of Necessity; and the young Wives, to make the best of a
+bad Market.
+
+In _Iper_, a Town, not long since, in the Dominions of the King of
+_Spain_, and now in possession of the King of _France_, there liv'd a
+Man of Quality, of a considerable Fortune, call'd, Count _Henrick de
+Vallary_, who had a very beautiful Lady, by whom, he had one Daughter,
+call'd _Isabella_, whose Mother dying when she was about two years old
+to the unspeakable Grief of the Count, her Husband, he resolv'd never to
+partake of any Pleasure more, that this transitory World could court him
+with, but determin'd, with himself, to dedicate his Youth, and future
+Days, to Heaven, and to take upon him Holy Orders; and, without
+considering, that, possibly, the young _Isabella_, when she grew to
+Woman, might have Sentiments contrary to those that now possest him, he
+design'd she should also become a Nun; However, he was not so positive
+in that Resolution, as to put the matter wholly out of her Choice, but
+divided his Estate; one half he carried with him to the Monastery of
+_Jesuits_, of which number, he became one; and the other half, he gave
+with _Isabella_, to the Monastery, of which, his only Sister was Lady
+_Abbess_, of the Order of St. _Augustine_; but so he ordered the matter,
+that if, at the Age of Thirteen, _Isabella_ had not a mind to take
+Orders, or that the Lady _Abbess_ found her Inclination averse to a
+Monastick Life, she should have such a proportion of the Revenue, as
+should be fit to marry her to a Noble Man, and left it to the discretion
+of the Lady _Abbess_, who was a Lady of known Piety, and admirable
+strictness of Life, and so nearly related to _Isabella_, that there was
+no doubt made of her Integrity and Justice.
+
+The little _Isabella_ was carried immediately (in her Mourning for her
+dead Mother) into the Nunnery, and was receiv'd as a very diverting
+Companion by all the young Ladies, and, above all, by her Reverend Aunt,
+for she was come just to the Age of delighting her Parents; she was the
+prettiest forward Pratler in the World, and had a thousand little Charms
+to please, besides the young Beauties that were just budding in her
+little Angel Face: So that she soon became the dear lov'd Favourite of
+the whole House; and as she was an Entertainment to them all, so they
+made it their study to find all the Diversions they could for the pretty
+_Isabella_; and as she grew in Wit and Beauty every day, so they fail'd
+not to cultivate her Mind; and delicate Apprehension, in all that was
+advantageous to her Sex, and whatever Excellency any one abounded in,
+she was sure to communicate it to the young _Isabella_, if one could
+Dance, another Sing, another play on this Instrument, and another on
+that; if this spoke one Language, and that another; if she had Wit, and
+she Discretion, and a third, the finest Fashion and Manners; all joyn'd
+to compleat the Mind and Body of this beautiful young Girl; Who, being
+undiverted with the less noble, and less solid, Vanities of the World,
+took to these Virtues, and excell'd in all; and her Youth and Wit being
+apt for all Impressions, she soon became a greater Mistress of their
+Arts, than those who taught her; so that at the Age of eight or nine
+Years, she was thought fit to receive and entertain all the great Men
+and Ladies, and the Strangers of any Nation, at the _Grate_; and that
+with so admirable a Grace, so quick and piercing a Wit, and so
+delightful and sweet a Conversation, that she became the whole Discourse
+of the Town, and Strangers spread her Fame, as prodigious, throughout
+the Christian World; for Strangers came daily to hear her talk, and
+sing, and play, and to admire her Beauty; and Ladies brought their
+Children, to shame 'em into good Fashion and Manners, with looking on
+the lovely young _Isabella_.
+
+The Lady _Abbess_, her Aunt, you may believe, was not a little proud of
+the Excellencies and Virtues of her fair _Niece_, and omitted nothing
+that might adorn her Mind; because, not only of the vastness of her
+Parts and Fame, and the Credit she would do her House, by residing there
+for ever; but also, being very loth to part with her considerable
+Fortune, which she must resign, if she returned into the World, she us'd
+all her Arts and Stratagems to make her become a _Nun_, to which all the
+fair Sisterhood contributed their Cunning, but it was altogether
+needless; her Inclination, the strictness of her Devotion, her early
+Prayers, and those continual, and innate Stedfastness, and Calm, she was
+Mistress of; her Ignorance of the World's Vanities, and those that
+uninclos'd young Ladies count Pleasures and Diversions, being all
+unknown to her, she thought there was no Joy out of a _Nunnery_, and no
+Satisfactions on the other side of a _Grate_.
+
+The Lady _Abbess_, seeing, that of her self she yielded faster than she
+could expect; to discharge her Conscience to her Brother, who came
+frequently to visit his Darling _Isabella_, would very often discourse
+to her of the Pleasures of the World, telling her, how much happier she
+would think her self, to be the Wife of some gallant young Cavalier, and
+to have Coaches and Equipages; to see the World, to behold a thousand
+Rarities she had never seen, to live in Splendor, to eat high, and wear
+magnificent Clothes, to be bow'd to as she pass'd, and have a thousand
+Adorers, to see in time a pretty Offspring, the products of Love, that
+should talk, and look, and delight, as she did, the Heart of their
+Parents; but to all, her Father and the Lady _Abbess_ could say of the
+World, and its Pleasures, _Isabella_ brought a thousand Reasons and
+Arguments, so Pious, so Devout, that the _Abbess_ was very well pleased,
+to find her (purposely weak) Propositions so well overthrown; and gives
+an account of her daily Discourses to her Brother, which were no less
+pleasing to him; and tho' _Isabella_ went already dress'd as richly as
+her Quality deserv'd, yet her Father, to try the utmost that the World's
+Vanity could do, upon her young Heart, orders the most Glorious Clothes
+should be bought her, and that the Lady _Abbess_ should suffer her to go
+abroad with those Ladies of Quality, that were her Relations, and her
+Mother's Acquaintance; that she should visit and go on the Toore, (that
+is, the Hide Park there) that she should see all that was diverting, to
+try, whether it were not for want of Temptation to Vanity, that made her
+leave the World, and love an inclos'd Life.
+
+As the Count had commanded, all things were performed; and _Isabella_
+arriving at her Thirteenth Year of Age, and being pretty tall of
+Stature, with the finest Shape that Fancy can create, with all the
+Adornment of a perfect brown-hair'd Beauty, Eyes black and lovely,
+Complexion fair; to a Miracle, all her Features of the rarest
+proportion, the Mouth red, the Teeth white, and a thousand Graces in her
+Meen and Air; she came no sooner abroad, but she had a thousand Persons
+fighting for love of her; the Reputation her Wit had acquir'd, got her
+Adorers without seeing her, but when they saw her, they found themselves
+conquer'd and undone; all were glad she was come into the World, of whom
+they had heard so much, and all the Youth of the Town dress'd only for
+_Isabella de Valerie_, that rose like a new Star that Eclips'd all the
+rest, and which set the World a-gazing. Some hop'd, and some despair'd,
+but all lov'd, while _Isabella_ regarded not their Eyes, their distant
+darling Looks of Love, and their signs of Adoration; she was civil and
+affable to all, but so reserv'd, that none durst tell her his Passion,
+or name that strange and abhorr'd thing, _Love_, to her; the Relations
+with whom she went abroad every day, were fein to force her out, and
+when she went, 'twas the motive of Civility, and not Satisfaction, that
+made her go; whatever she saw, she beheld with no admiration, and
+nothing created wonder in her, tho' never so strange and Novel. She
+survey'd all things with an indifference, that tho' it was not sullen,
+was far from Transport, so that her evenness of Mind was infinitely
+admir'd and prais'd. And now it was, that, young as she was, her Conduct
+and Discretion appear'd equal to her Wit and Beauty, and she encreas'd
+daily in Reputation, insomuch, that the Parents of abundance of young
+Noble Men, made it their business to endeavour to marry their Sons to so
+admirable and noble a Maid, and one, whose Virtues were the Discourse of
+all the World; the _Father_, the Lady _Abbess_, and those who had her
+abroad, were solicited to make an Alliance; for the Father, he would
+give no answer, but left it to the discretion of _Isabella_, who could
+not be persuaded to hear any thing of that nature; so that for a long
+time she refus'd her company to all those, who propos'd any thing of
+Marriage to her; she said, she had seen nothing in the World that was
+worth her Care, or the venturing the losing of Heaven for, and therefore
+was resolv'd to dedicate her self to that; that the more she saw of the
+World, the worse she lik'd it, and pity'd the Wretches that were
+condemn'd to it; that she had consider'd it, and found no one
+Inclination that forbad her immediate Entrance into a Religious Life; to
+which, her Father, after using all the Arguments he could, to make her
+take good heed of what she went about, to consider it well; and had
+urg'd all the Inconveniencies of Severe Life, Watchings, Midnight
+Risings in all Weathers and Seasons to Prayers, hard Lodging, course
+Diet, and homely Habit, with a thousand other things of Labour and Work
+us'd among the _Nuns_; and finding her still resolv'd and inflexible to
+all contrary persuasions, he consented, kiss'd her, and told her, She
+had argu'd according to the wish of his Soul, and that he never believ'd
+himself truly happy, till this moment that he was assur'd, she would
+become a Religious.
+
+This News, to the Heart-breaking of a thousand Lovers, was spread all
+over the Town, and there was nothing but Songs of Complaint, and of her
+retiring, after she had shewn her self to the World, and vanquish'd so
+many Hearts; all Wits were at work on this Cruel Subject, and one begat
+another, as is usual in such Affairs. Amongst the number of these
+Lovers, there was a young Gentleman, Nobly born, his name was
+_Villenoys_, who was admirably made, and very handsom, had travell'd and
+accomplish'd himself, as much as was possible for one so young to do; he
+was about Eighteen, and was going to the Siege of _Candia_, in a very
+good Equipage, but, overtaken by his Fate, surpris'd in his way to
+Glory, he stopt at _Ipers_, so fell most passionately in love with this
+Maid of Immortal Fame; but being defeated in his hopes by this News, was
+the Man that made the softest Complaints to this fair Beauty, and whose
+violence of Passion oppress'd him to that degree, that he was the only
+Lover, who durst himself tell her, he was in love with her; he writ
+Billets so soft and tender, that she had, of all her Lovers, most
+compassion for _Villenoys_, and dain'd several times, in pity of him, to
+send him answers to his Letters, but they were such, as absolutely
+forbad him to love her; such as incited him to follow Glory, the
+Mistress that could noblest reward him; and that, for her part, her
+Prayers should always be, that he might be victorious, and the Darling
+of that Fortune he was going to court; and that she, for her part, had
+fix'd her Mind on Heaven, and no Earthly Thought should bring it down;
+but she should ever retain for him all Sisterly Respect, and begg'd, in
+her Solitudes, to hear, whether her Prayers had prov'd effectual or not,
+and if Fortune were so kind to him, as she should perpetually wish.
+
+When _Villenoys_ found she was resolv'd, he design'd to persue his
+Journy, but could not leave the Town, till he had seen the fatal
+Ceremony of _Isabella's_ being made a _Nun_, which was every day
+expected; and while he stay'd, he could not forbear writing daily to
+her, but receiv'd no more Answers from her, she already accusing her
+self of having done too much, for a Maid in her Circumstances; but she
+confess'd, of all she had seen, she lik'd _Villenoys_ the best; and if
+she ever could have lov'd, she believ'd it would have been _Villenoys_,
+for he had all the good Qualities, and grace, that could render him
+agreeable to the Fair; besides, that he was only Son to a very rich and
+noble Parent, and one that might very well presume to lay claim to a
+Maid of _Isabella's_ Beauty and Fortune.
+
+As the time approach'd, when he must eternally lose all hope, by
+_Isabella's_ taking Orders, he found himself less able to bear the
+Efforts of that Despair it possess'd him with, he languished with the
+thought, so that it was visible to all his Friends, the decays it
+wrought on his Beauty and Gaiety: So that he fell at last into a Feaver;
+and 'twas the whole Discourse of the Town, That _Villenoys_ was dying
+for the Fair _Isabella_; his Relations, being all of Quality, were
+extreamly afflicted at his Misfortune, and joyn'd their Interests yet,
+to dissuade this fair young Victoress from an act so cruel, as to
+inclose herself in a _Nunnery_, while the finest of all the youths of
+Quality was dying for her, and ask'd her, If it would not be more
+acceptable to Heaven to save a Life, and perhaps a Soul, than to go and
+expose her own to a thousand Tortures? They assur'd her, _Villenoys_ was
+dying, and dying Adoring her; that nothing could save his Life, but her
+kind Eyes turn'd upon the fainting Lover; a�Lover, that could breath
+nothing, but her Name in Sighs; and find satisfaction in nothing, but
+weeping and crying out, 'I�dye for Isabella!' This Discourse fetch'd
+abundance of Tears from the fair Eyes of this tender Maid; but, at the
+same time, she besought them to believe, these Tears ought not to give
+them hope, she should ever yield to save his Life, by quitting her
+Resolution, of becoming a _Nun_; but, on the contrary, they were Tears,
+that only bewail'd her own Misfortune, in having been the occasion of
+the death of any Man, especially, a�Man, who had so many Excellencies,
+as might have render'd him entirely Happy and Glorious for a long race
+of Years, had it not been his ill fortune to have seen her unlucky Face.
+She believ'd, it was for her Sins of Curiosity, and going beyond the
+Walls of the Monastery, to wander after the Vanities of the foolish
+World, that had occasion'd this Misfortune to the young Count of
+_Villenoys_, and she would put a severe Penance on her Body, for the
+Mischiefs her Eyes had done him; she fears she might, by something in
+her looks, have intic'd his Heart, for she own'd she saw him, with
+wonder at his Beauty, and much more she admir'd him, when she found the
+Beauties of his Mind; she confess'd, she had given him hope, by
+answering his Letters; and that when she found her Heart grow a little
+more than usually tender, when she thought on him, she believ'd it a
+Crime, that ought to be check'd by a Virtue, such as she pretended to
+profess, and hop'd she should ever carry to her Grave; and she desired
+his Relations to implore him, in her Name, to rest contented, in knowing
+he was the first, and should be the last, that should ever make an
+impression on her Heart; that what she had conceiv'd there, for him,
+should remain with her to her dying day, and that she besought him to
+live, that she might see, he both deserv'd this Esteem she had for him,
+and to repay it her, otherwise he would dye in her debt, and make her
+Life ever after reposeless.
+
+This being all they could get from her, they return'd with Looks that
+told their Message; however, they render'd those soft things _Isabella_
+had said, in so moving a manner, as fail'd not to please, and while he
+remain'd in this condition, the Ceremonies were compleated, of making
+_Isabella_ a _Nun_; which was a Secret to none but _Villenoys_, and from
+him it was carefully conceal'd, so that in a little time he recover'd
+his lost health, at least, so well, as to support the fatal News, and
+upon the first hearing it, he made ready his Equipage, and departed
+immediately for _Candia_; where he behav'd himself very gallantly, under
+the Command of the Duke De _Beaufort_, and, with him, return'd to
+_France_, after the loss of that noble City to the _Turks_.
+
+In all the time of his absence, that he might the sooner establish his
+Repose, he forbore sending to the fair Cruel _Nun_, and she heard no
+more of _Villenoys_ in above two years; so that giving her self wholly
+up to Devotion, there was never seen any one, who led so Austere and
+Pious a Life, as this young _Votress_; she was a Saint in the Chapel,
+and an Angel at the _Grate_: She there laid by all her severe Looks, and
+mortify'd Discourse, and being at perfect peace and tranquility within,
+she was outwardly all gay, sprightly, and entertaining, being satisfy'd,
+no Sights, no Freedoms, could give any temptations to worldly desires;
+she gave a loose to all that was modest, and that Virtue and Honour
+would permit, and was the most charming Conversation that ever was
+admir'd; and the whole World that pass'd through _Iper_; of Strangers,
+came directed and recommended to the lovely _Isabella_; I mean, those of
+Quality: But however Diverting she was at the _Grate_, she was most
+exemplary Devout in the Cloister, doing more Penance, and imposing a
+more rigid Severity and Task on her self, than was requir'd, giving such
+rare Examples to all the _Nuns_ that were less Devout, that her Life was
+a Proverb, and a President, and when they would express a very Holy
+Woman indeed, they would say, 'She was a very _ISABELLA_.'
+
+There was in this _Nunnery_, a young _Nun_, call'd, Sister _Katteriena_,
+Daughter to the Grave _Vanhenault_, that is to say, an Earl, who liv'd
+about six Miles from the Town, in a noble _Villa_; this Sister
+_Katteriena_ was not only a very beautiful Maid, but very witty, and had
+all the good qualities to make her be belov'd, and had most wonderfully
+gain'd upon the Heart of the fair _Isabella_, she was her Chamber-Fellow
+and Companion in all her Devotions and Diversions, so that where one
+was, there was the other, and they never went but together to the
+_Grate_, to the Garden, or to any place, whither their _Affairs_ call'd
+either. This young _Katteriena_ had a Brother, who lov'd her intirely,
+and came every day to see her, he was about twenty Years of Age, rather
+tall than middle Statur'd, his Hair and Eyes brown, but his Face
+exceeding beautiful, adorn'd with a thousand Graces, and the most nobly
+and exactly made, that 'twas possible for Nature to form; to the
+Fineness and Charms of his Person, he had an Air in his Meen and
+Dressing, so very agreeable, besides rich, that 'twas impossible to look
+on him, without wishing him happy, because he did so absolutely merit
+being so. His Wit and his Manner was so perfectly Obliging, a�Goodness
+and Generosity so Sincere and Gallant, that it would even have aton'd
+for Ugliness. As he was eldest Son to so great a Father, he was kept at
+home, while the rest of his Brothers were employ'd in Wars abroad; this
+made him of a melancholy Temper, and fit for soft Impressions; he was
+very Bookish, and had the best Tutors that could be got, for Learning
+and Languages, and all that could compleat a Man; but was unus'd to
+Action, and of a temper Lazy, and given to Repose, so that his Father
+could hardly ever get him to use any Exercise, or so much as ride
+abroad, which he would call, Losing Time from his Studies: He car'd not
+for the Conversation of Men, because he lov'd not Debauch, as they
+usually did; so that for Exercise, more than any Design, he came on
+Horseback every day to _Iper_ to the _Monastery_, and would sit at the
+_Grate_, entertaining his Sister the most part of the Afternoon, and, in
+the Evening, retire; he had often seen and convers'd with the lovely
+_Isabella_, and found from the first sight of her, he had more Esteem
+for her, than any other of her Sex: But as Love very rarely takes Birth
+without Hope; so he never believ'd that the Pleasure he took in
+beholding her, and in discoursing with her, was Love, because he
+regarded her, as a Thing consecrate to Heaven, and never so much as
+thought to wish, she were a Mortal fit for his Addresses; yet he found
+himself more and more fill'd with Reflections on her which was not usual
+with him; he found she grew upon his Memory, and oftner came there, than
+he us'd to do, that he lov'd his Studies less, and going to _Iper_ more;
+and, that every time he went, he found a new Joy at his Heart that
+pleas'd him; he found, he could not get himself from the _Grate_,
+without Pain; nor part from the sight of that all-charming Object,
+without Sighs; and if, while he was there, any persons came to visit
+her, whose Quality she could not refuse the honour of her sight to, he
+would blush, and pant with uneasiness, especially, if they were handsom,
+and fit to make Impressions: And he would check this Uneasiness in
+himself, and ask his Heart, what it meant, by rising and beating in
+those Moments, and strive to assume an Indifferency in vain, and depart
+dissatisfy'd, and out of humour.
+
+On the other side, _Isabella_ was not so Gay as she us'd to be, but, on
+the sudden, retir'd her self more from the _Grate_ than she us'd to do,
+refus'd to receive Visits every day, and her Complexion grew a little
+pale and languid; she was observ'd not to sleep, or eat, as she us'd to
+do, nor exercise in those little Plays they made, and diverted
+themselves with, now and then; she was heard to sigh often, and it
+became the Discourse of the whole House, that she was much alter'd: The
+Lady _Abbess_, who lov'd her with a most tender Passion, was infinitely
+concern'd at this Change, and endeavour'd to find out the Cause, and
+'twas generally believ'd, she was too Devout, for now she redoubled her
+Austerity; and in cold Winter Nights, of Frost and Snow, would be up at
+all Hours, and lying upon the cold Stones, before the Altar, prostrate
+at Prayers: So that she receiv'd Orders from the Lady _Abbess_, not to
+harass her self so very much, but to have a care of her Health, as well
+as her Soul; but she regarded not these Admonitions, tho' even persuaded
+daily by her _Katteriena_, whom she lov'd every day more and more.
+
+But, one Night, when they were retir'd to their Chamber, amongst a
+thousand things that they spoke of, to pass away a tedious Evening, they
+talk'd of Pictures and Likenesses, and _Katteriena_ told _Isabella_,
+that before she was a _Nun_, in her more happy days, she was so like her
+Brother _Bernardo Henault_, (who was the same that visited them every
+day) that she would, in Men's Clothes, undertake, she should not have
+known one from t'other, and fetching out his _Picture_, she had in a
+Dressing-Box, she threw it to _Isabella_, who, at the first sight of it,
+turns as pale as Ashes, and, being ready to swound, she bid her take it
+away, and could not, for her Soul, hide the sudden surprise the
+_Picture_ brought: _Katteriena_ had too much Wit, not to make a just
+Interpretation of this Change, and (as�a Woman) was naturally curious to
+pry farther, tho' Discretion should have made her been silent, for
+Talking, in such cases, does but make the Wound rage the more; 'Why, my
+dear Sister, (said _Katteriena_) is the likeness of my Brother so
+offensive to you?' _Isabella_ found by this, she had discover'd too
+much, and that Thought put her by all power of excusing it; she was
+confounded with Shame, and the more she strove to hide it, the more it
+disorder'd her; so that she (blushing extremely) hung down her Head,
+sigh'd, and confess'd all by her Looks. At last, after a considering
+Pause, she cry'd, 'My dearest Sister, I�do confess, I�was surpriz'd at
+the sight of Monsieur _Henault_, and much more than ever you have
+observ'd me to be at the sight of his Person, because there is scarce a
+day wherein I do not see that, and know beforehand I shall see him; I�am
+prepar'd for the Encounter, and have lessen'd my Concern, or rather
+Confusion, by that time I come to the _Grate_, so much Mistress I am of
+my Passions, when they give me warning of their approach, and sure I can
+withstand the greatest assaults of Fate, if I can but foresee it; but if
+it surprize me, I�find I am as feeble a Woman, as the most unresolv'd;
+you did not tell me, you had this Picture, nor say, you would shew me
+such a Picture; but when I least expect to see that Face, you shew it
+me, even in my Chamber.'
+
+'Ah, my dear Sister! (reply'd _Katteriena_) I believe, that Paleness,
+and those Blushes, proceed from some other cause, than the Nicety of
+seeing the Picture of a Man in your Chamber':
+
+'You have too much Wit, (reply'd _Isabella_) to be impos'd on by such an
+Excuse, if I were so silly to make it; but oh! my dear Sister! it was in
+my Thoughts to deceive you; could I have concealed my Pain and
+Sufferings, you should never have known them; but since I find it
+impossible, and that I am too sincere to make use of Fraud in any thing,
+'tis fit I tell you, from what cause my change of Colour proceeds, and
+to own to you, I�fear, 'tis Love, if ever therefore, oh gentle pitying
+Maid! thou wert a Lover? If ever thy tender Heart were touch'd with that
+Passion? Inform me, oh! inform me, of the nature of that cruel Disease,
+and how thou found'st a Cure?'
+
+While she was speaking these words, she threw her Arms about the Neck of
+the fair _Katteriena_, and bath'd her Bosom (where she hid her Face)
+with a shower of Tears; _Katteriena_, embracing her with all the
+fondness of a dear Lover, told her, with a Sigh, that she could deny her
+nothing, and therefore confess'd to her, she had been a Lover, and that
+was the occasion of her being made a _Nun_, her Father finding out the
+Intrigue, which fatally happened to be with his own Page, a�Youth of
+extraordinary Beauty. 'I�was but Young, (said she) about Thirteen, and
+knew not what to call the new-known Pleasure that I felt; when e're I
+look'd upon the young _Arnaldo_, my Heart would heave, when e're he came
+in view, and my disorder'd Breath came doubly from my Bosom; a�Shivering
+seiz'd me, and my Face grew wan; my Thought was at a stand, and Sense it
+self, for that short moment, lost its Faculties; But when he touch'd me,
+oh! no hunted Deer, tir'd with his flight, and just secur'd in Shades,
+pants with a nimbler motion than my Heart; at first, I�thought the Youth
+had had some Magick Art, to make one faint and tremble at his touches;
+but he himself, when I accus'd his Cruelty, told me, he had no Art, but
+awful Passion, and vow'd that when I touch'd him, he was so; so
+trembling, so surprized, so charm'd, so pleas'd. When he was present,
+nothing could displease me, but when he parted from me; then 'twas
+rather a soft silent Grief, that eas'd itself by sighing, and by hoping,
+that some kind moment would restore my joy. When he was absent, nothing
+could divert me, howe're I strove, howe're I toyl'd for Mirth; no Smile,
+no Joy, dwelt in my Heart or Eyes; I�could not feign, so very well I
+lov'd, impatient in his absence, I�would count the tedious parting
+Hours, and pass them off like useless Visitants, whom we wish were gon;
+these are the Hours, where Life no business has, at least, a�Lover's
+Life. But, oh! what Minutes seem'd the happy Hours, when on his Eyes I
+gaz'd, and he on mine, and half our Conversation lost in Sighs, Sighs,
+the soft moving Language of a Lover!'
+
+'No more, no more, (reply'd _Isabella_, throwing her Arms again about
+the Neck of the transported _Katteriena_) thou blow'st my Flame by thy
+soft Words, and mak'st me know my Weakness, and my Shame: I�love!
+I�love! and feel those differing Passions!'--Then pausing a moment, she
+proceeded,--'Yet so didst thou, but hast surmounted it. Now thou hast
+found the Nature of my Pain, oh! tell me thy saving Remedy?' 'Alas!
+(reply'd _Katteriena_) tho' there's but one Disease, there's many
+Remedies: They say, possession's one, but that to me seems a Riddle;
+Absence, they say, another, and that was mine; for _Arnaldo_ having by
+chance lost one of my Billets, discover'd the Amour, and was sent to
+travel, and my self forc'd into this Monastery, where at last, Time
+convinc'd me, I�had lov'd below my Quality, and that sham'd me into Holy
+Orders.' 'And is it a Disease, (reply'd _Isabella_) that People often
+recover?' 'Most frequently, (said _Katteriena_) and yet some dye of the
+Disease, but very rarely.' 'Nay then, (said _Isabella_) I fear, you will
+find me one of these Martyrs; for I have already oppos'd it with the
+most severe Devotion in the World: But all my Prayers are vain, your
+lovely Brother persues me into the greatest Solitude; he meets me at my
+very Midnight Devotions, and interrupts my Prayers; he gives me a
+thousand Thoughts, that ought not to enter into a Soul dedicated to
+Heaven; he ruins all the Glory I have achiev'd, even above my Sex, for
+Piety of Life, and the Observation of all Virtues. Oh _Katteriena_! he
+has a Power in his Eyes, that transcends all the World besides: And, to
+shew the weakness of Human Nature, and how vain all our Boastings are,
+he has done that in one fatal Hour, that the persuasions of all my
+Relations and Friends, Glory, Honour, Pleasure, and all that can tempt,
+could not perform in Years; I�resisted all but _Henault's_ Eyes, and
+they were Ordain'd to make me truly wretched; But yet with thy
+Assistance, and a Resolution to see him no more, and my perpetual Trust
+in Heaven, I�may, perhaps, overcome this Tyrant of my Soul, who,
+I�thought, had never enter'd into holy Houses, or mix'd his Devotions
+and Worship with the true Religion; but, oh! no Cells, no Cloysters, no
+Hermitages, are secur'd from his Efforts.'
+
+This Discourse she ended with abundance of Tears, and it was resolv'd,
+since she was devoted for ever to a Holy Life, That it was best for her
+to make it as easy to her as was possible; in order to it, and the
+banishing this fond and useless Passion from her Heart, it was very
+necessary, she should see _Henault_ no more: At first, _Isabella_ was
+afraid, that, in refusing to see him, he might mistrust her Passion; but
+_Katteriena_ who was both Pious and Discreet, and endeavour'd truly to
+cure her of so violent a Disease, which must, she knew, either end in
+her death or destruction, told her, She would take care of that matter,
+that it should not blemish her Honour; and so leaving her a while, after
+they had resolved on this, she left her in a thousand Confusions, she
+was now another Woman than what she had hitherto been; she was quite
+alter'd in every Sentiment, thought and Notion; she now repented, she
+had promis'd not to see _Henault_; she trembled and even fainted, for
+fear she should see him no more; she was not able to bear that thought,
+it made her rage within, like one possest, and all her Virtue could not
+calm her; yet since her word was past, and, as she was, she could not,
+without great Scandal, break it in that point, she resolv'd to dye a
+thousand Deaths, rather than not perform her Promise made to
+_Katteriena_; but 'tis not to be express'd what she endur'd; what Fits,
+Pains, and Convulsions, she sustain'd; and how much ado she had to
+dissemble to Dame _Katteriena_, who soon return'd to the afflicted Maid;
+the next day, about the time that _Henault_ was to come, as he usually
+did, about two or three a Clock after Noon, 'tis impossible to express
+the uneasiness of _Isabella_; she ask'd, a�thousand times, 'What, is not
+your Brother come?' When Dame _Katteriena_ would reply, 'Why do you
+ask?' She would say, 'Because I would be sure not to see him': 'You need
+not fear, Madam, (reply'd _Katteriena_) for you shall keep your
+Chamber.' She need not have urg'd that, for _Isabella_ was very ill
+without knowing it, and in a Feaver.
+
+At last, one of the _Nuns_ came up, and told Dame _Katteriena_, that her
+Brother was at the _Grate_, and she desired, he should be bid come about
+to the Private _Grate_ above stairs, which he did, and she went to him,
+leaving _Isabella_ even dead on the Bed, at the very name of _Henault_:
+But the more she conceal'd her Flame, the more violently it rag'd, which
+she strove in vain by Prayers, and those Recourses of Solitude to
+lessen; all this did but augment the Pain, and was Oyl to the Fire, so
+that she now could hope, that nothing but Death would put an end to her
+Griefs, and her Infamy. She was eternally thinking on him, how handsome
+his Face, how delicate every Feature, how charming his Air, how graceful
+his Meen, how soft and good his Disposition, and how witty and
+entertaining his Conversation. She now fancy'd, she was at the _Grate_,
+talking to him as she us'd to be, and blest those happy Hours she past
+then, and bewail'd her Misfortune, that she is no more destin'd to be so
+Happy, then gives a loose to Grief; Griefs, at which, no Mortals, but
+Despairing Lovers, can guess, or how tormenting they are; where the most
+easie Moments are, those, wherein one resolves to kill ones self, and
+the happiest Thought is Damnation; but from these Imaginations, she
+endeavours to fly, all frighted with horror; but, alas! whither would
+she fly, but to a Life more full of horror? She considers well, she
+cannot bear Despairing Love, and finds it impossible to cure her
+Despair; she cannot fly from the Thoughts of the Charming _Henault_, and
+'tis impossible to quit 'em; and, at this rate, she found, Life could
+not long support it self, but would either reduce her to Madness, and so
+render her an hated Object of Scorn to the Censuring World, or force her
+Hand to commit a Murder upon her self. This she had found, this she had
+well consider'd, nor could her fervent and continual Prayers, her
+nightly Watchings, her Mortifications on the cold Marble in long Winter
+Season, and all her Acts of Devotion abate one spark of this shameful
+Feaver of Love, that was destroying her within. When she had rag'd and
+struggled with this unruly Passion, 'till she was quite tir'd and
+breathless, finding all her force in vain, she fill'd her fancy with a
+thousand charming _Ideas_ of the lovely _Henault_, and, in that soft
+fit, had a mind to satisfy her panting Heart, and give it one Joy more,
+by beholding the Lord of its Desires, and the Author of its Pains:
+Pleas'd, yet trembling, at this Resolve, she rose from the Bed where she
+was laid, and softly advanc'd to the Stair-Case, from whence there
+open'd that Room where Dame _Katteriena_ was, and where there was a
+private _Grate_, at which, she was entertaining her _Brother_; they were
+earnest in Discourse, and so loud, that _Isabella_ could easily hear all
+they said, and the first words were from _Katteriena_, who, in a sort of
+Anger, cry'd, 'Urge me no more! My Virtue is too nice, to become an
+Advocate for a Passion, that can tend to nothing but your Ruin; for,
+suppose I should tell the fair _Isabella_, you dye for her, what can it
+avail you? What hope can any Man have, to move the Heart of a Virgin, so
+averse to Love? A�Virgin, whose Modesty and Virtue is so very curious,
+it would fly the very word, Love, as some monstrous Witchcraft, or the
+foulest of Sins, who would loath me for bringing so lewd a Message, and
+banish you her Sight, as the Object of her Hate and Scorn; is it unknown
+to you, how many of the noblest Youths of _Flanders_ have address'd
+themselves to her in vain, when yet she was in the World? Have you been
+ignorant, how the young Count de _Villenoys_ languished, in vain, almost
+to Death for her? And, that no Persuasions, no Attractions in him, no
+wordly Advantages, or all his Pleadings, who had a Wit and Spirit
+capable of prevailing on any Heart, less severe and harsh, than hers? Do
+you not know, that all was lost on this insensible fair one, even when
+she was a proper Object for the Adoration of the Young and Amorous? And
+can you hope, now she has so entirely wedded her future days to
+Devotion, and given all to Heaven; nay, lives a Life here more like a
+Saint, than a Woman; rather an Angel, than a mortal Creature? Do you
+imagin, with any Rhetorick you can deliver, now to turn the Heart, and
+whole Nature, of this Divine Maid, to consider your Earthly Passion? No,
+'tis fondness, and an injury to her Virtue, to harbour such a Thought;
+quit it, quit it, my dear Brother! before it ruin your Repose.' 'Ah,
+Sister! (replied the dejected _Henault_) your Counsel comes too late,
+and your Reasons are of too feeble force, to rebate those Arrows, the
+Charming _Isabella's_ Eyes have fix'd in my Heart and Soul; and I am
+undone, unless she know my Pain, which I shall dye, before I shall ever
+dare mention to her; but you, young Maids, have a thousand Familiarities
+together, can jest, and play, and say a thousand things between Railery
+and Earnest, that may first hint what you would deliver, and insinuate
+into each others Hearts a kind of Curiosity to know more; for naturally,
+(my�dear Sister) Maids, are curious and vain; and however Divine the
+Mind of the fair _Isabella_ may be, it bears the Tincture still of
+Mortal Woman.'
+
+'Suppose this true, how could this Mortal part about her Advantage you,
+(said _Katteriena_) all that you can expect from this Discovery, (if�she
+should be content to hear it, and to return you pity) would be, to make
+her wretched, like your self? What farther can you hope?' 'Oh! talk not,
+(replied _Henault_) of so much Happiness! I�do not expect to be so
+blest, that she should pity me, or love to a degree of Inquietude; 'tis
+sufficient, for the ease of my Heart, that she know its Pains, and what
+it suffers for her; that she would give my Eyes leave to gaze upon her,
+and my Heart to vent a Sigh now and then; and, when I dare, to give me
+leave to speak, and tell her of my Passion; This, this, is all, my
+Sister.' And, at that word, the Tears glided down his Cheeks, and he
+declin'd his Eyes, and set a Look so charming, and so sad, that
+_Isabella_, whose Eyes were fix'd upon him, was a thousand times ready
+to throw her self into the Room, and to have made a Confession, how
+sensible she was of all she had heard and seen: But, with much ado, she
+contain'd and satisfy'd her self, with knowing, that she was ador'd by
+him whom she ador'd, and, with Prudence that is natural to her, she
+withdrew, and waited with patience the event of their Discourse. She
+impatiently long'd to know, how _Katteriena_ would manage this Secret
+her Brother had given her, and was pleas'd, that the Friendship and
+Prudence of that Maid had conceal'd her Passion from her Brother; and
+now contented and joyful beyond imagination, to find her self belov'd,
+she knew she could dissemble her own Passion and make him the first
+Aggressor; the first that lov'd, or at least, that should seem to do so.
+This Thought restores her so great a part of her Peace of Mind, that she
+resolv'd to see him, and to dissemble with _Katteriena_ so far, as to
+make her believe, she had subdu'd that Passion, she was really asham'd
+to own; she now, with her Woman's Skill, begins to practise an Art she
+never before understood, and has recourse to Cunning, and resolves to
+seem to reassume her former Repose: But hearing _Katteriena_ approach,
+she laid her self again on her Bed, where she had left her, but compos'd
+her Face to more chearfulness, and put on a Resolution that indeed
+deceiv'd the Sister, who was extreamly pleased, she said, to see her
+look so well: When _Isabella_ reply'd, 'Yes, I�am another Woman now;
+I�hope Heaven has heard, and granted, my long and humble Supplications,
+and driven from my Heart this tormenting God, that has so long disturb'd
+my purer Thoughts.' 'And are you sure, (said Dame _Katteriena_) that
+this wanton Deity is repell'd by the noble force of your Resolutions? Is
+he never to return?' 'No, (replied _Isabella_) never to my Heart.' 'Yes,
+(said _Katteriena_) if you should see the lovely Murderer of your
+Repose, your Wound would bleed anew.' At this, _Isabella_ smiling with a
+little Disdain, reply'd, 'Because you once to love, and _Henault's_
+Charms defenceless found me, ah! do you think I have no Fortitude? But
+so in Fondness lost, remiss in Virtue, that when I have resolv'd, (and
+see it necessary for my after-Quiet) to want the power of keeping that
+Resolution? No, scorn me, and despise me then, as lost to all the
+Glories of my Sex, and all that Nicety I've hitherto preserv'd.' There
+needed no more from a Maid of _Isabella's_ Integrity and Reputation, to
+convince any one of the Sincerity of what she said, since, in the whole
+course of her Life, she never could be charg'd with an Untruth, or an
+Equivocation; and _Katteriena_ assur'd her, she believ'd her, and was
+infinitely glad she had vanquish'd a Passion, that would have prov'd
+destructive to her Repose: _Isabella_ reply'd, She had not altogether
+vanquish'd her Passion, she did not boast of so absolute a power over
+her soft Nature, but had resolv'd things great, and Time would work the
+Cure; that she hop'd, _Katteriena_ would make such Excuses to her
+Brother, for her not appearing at the _Grate_ so gay and entertaining as
+she us'd, and, by a little absence, she should retrieve the Liberty she
+had lost: But she desir'd, such Excuses might be made for her, that
+young _Henault_ might not perceive the Reason. At the naming him, she
+had much ado not to shew some Concern extraordinary, and _Katteriena_
+assur'd her, She had now a very good Excuse to keep from the _Grate_,
+when he was at it; 'For, (said she) now you have resolv'd, I�may tell
+you, he is dying for you, raving in Love, and has this day made me
+promise to him, to give you some account of his Passion, and to make you
+sensible of his Languishment: I�had not told you this, (reply'd
+_Katteriena_) but that I believe you fortify'd with brave Resolution and
+Virtue, and that this knowledge will rather put you more upon your
+Guard, than you were before.' While she spoke, she fixed her Eyes on
+_Isabella_, to see what alteration it would make in her Heart and Looks;
+but the Master-piece of this young Maid's Art was shewn in this minute,
+for she commanded her self so well, that her very Looks dissembled and
+shew'd no concern at a Relation, that made her Soul dance with Joy; but
+it was, what she was prepar'd for, or else I question her Fortitude.
+But, with a Calmness, which absolutely subdu'd _Katteriena_, she
+reply'd, 'I�am almost glad he has confess'd a Passion for me, and you
+shall confess to him, you told me of it, and that I absent my self from
+the _Grate_, on purpose to avoid the sight of a Man, who durst love me,
+and confess it; and I assure you, my dear Sister! (continued she,
+dissembling) You could not have advanc'd my Cure by a more effectual
+way, than telling me of his Presumption.' At that word, _Katteriena_
+joyfully related to her all that had pass'd between young _Henault_ and
+her self, and how he implor'd her Aid in this Amour; at the end of which
+Relation, _Isabella_ smil'd, and carelesly reply'd, 'I�pity him': And so
+going to their Devotion, they had no more Discourse of the Lover.
+
+In the mean time, young _Henault_ was a little satisfy'd, to know, his
+Sister would discover his Passion to the lovely _Isabella_; and though
+he dreaded the return, he was pleas'd that she should know, she had a
+Lover that ador'd her, though even without hope; for though the thought
+of possessing _Isabella_, was the most ravishing that could be; yet he
+had a dread upon him, when he thought of it, for he could not hope to
+accomplish that, without Sacrilege; and he was a young Man, very Devout,
+and even bigotted in Religion; and would often question and debate
+within himself, that, if it were possible, he should come to be belov'd
+by this Fair Creature, and that it were possible for her, to grant all
+that Youth in Love could require, whether he should receive the Blessing
+offer'd? And though he ador'd the Maid, whether he should not abhor the
+_Nun_ in his Embraces? 'Twas an undetermin'd Thought, that chill'd his
+Fire as often as it approach'd; but he had too many that rekindled it
+again with the greater Flame and Ardor.
+
+His impatience to know, what Success _Katteriena_ had, with the Relation
+she was to make to _Isabella_ in his behalf, brought him early to _Iper_
+the next day. He came again to the private _Grate_, where his Sister
+receiving him, and finding him, with a sad and dejected Look, expect
+what she had to say; she told him, That Look well became the News she
+had for him, it being such, as ought to make him, both Griev'd, and
+Penitent; for, to obey him, she had so absolutely displeas'd _Isabella_,
+that she was resolv'd never to believe her her Friend more, 'Or to see
+you, (said she) therefore, as you have made me commit a Crime against my
+Conscience, against my Order, against my Friendship, and against my
+Honour, you ought to do some brave thing; take some noble Resolution,
+worthy of your Courage, to redeem all; for your Repose, I�promis'd,
+I�would let Isabella know you lov'd, and, for the mitigation of my
+Crime, you ought to let me tell her, you have surmounted your Passion,
+as the last Remedy of Life and Fame.'
+
+At these her last words, the Tears gush'd from his Eyes, and he was able
+only, a�good while, to sigh; at last, cry'd, 'What! see her no more! see
+the Charming _Isabella_ no more!' And then vented the Grief of his Soul
+in so passionate a manner, as his Sister had all the Compassion
+imaginable for him, but thought it great Sin and Indiscretion to cherish
+his Flame: So that, after a while, having heard her Counsel, he reply'd,
+'And is this all, my Sister, you will do to save a Brother?' 'All!
+(reply'd she) I�would not be the occasion of making a _NUN_ violate her
+Vow, to save a Brother's Life, no, nor my own; assure your self of this,
+and take it as my last Resolution: Therefore, if you will be content
+with the Friendship of this young Lady, and so behave your self, that we
+may find no longer the Lover in the Friend, we shall reassume our former
+Conversation, and live with you, as we ought; otherwise, your Presence
+will continually banish her from the _Grate_, and, in time, make both
+her you love, and your self, a�Town Discourse.'
+
+Much more to this purpose she said, to dissuade him, and bid him retire,
+and keep himself from thence, till he could resolve to visit them
+without a Crime; and she protested, if he did not do this, and master
+his foolish Passion, she would let her Father understand his Conduct,
+who was a Man of temper so very precise, that should he believe, his Son
+should have a thought of Love to a Virgin vow'd to Heaven, he would
+abandon him to Shame, and eternal Poverty, by disinheriting him of all
+he could: Therefore, she said, he ought to lay all this to his Heart,
+and weigh it with his unheedy Passion. While the Sister talk'd thus
+wisely, _Henault_ was not without his Thoughts, but consider'd as she
+spoke, but did not consider in the right place; he was not considering,
+how to please a Father, and save an Estate, but how to manage the matter
+so, to establish himself, as he was before with _Isabella_; for he
+imagin'd, since already she knew his Passion, and that if after that she
+would be prevail'd with to see him, he might, some lucky Minute or
+other, have the pleasure of speaking for himself, at least, he should
+again see and talk to her, which was a joyful Thought in the midst of so
+many dreadful ones: And, as if he had known what pass'd in _Isabella's_
+Heart, he, by a strange sympathy, took the same measures to deceive
+_Katteriena_, a well-meaning young Lady, and easily impos'd on from her
+own Innocence, he resolv'd to dissemble Patience, since he must have
+that Virtue, and own'd, his Sister's Reasons were just, and ought to be
+persu'd; that she had argu'd him into half his Peace, and that he would
+endeavour to recover the rest; that Youth ought to be pardon'd a
+thousand Failings, and Years would reduce him to a condition of laughing
+at his Follies of Youth, but that grave Direction was not yet arriv'd:
+And so desiring, she would pray for his Conversion, and that she would
+recommend him to the Devotions of the Fair _Isabella_, he took his
+leave, and came no more to the _Nunnery_ in ten Days; in all which time,
+none but Impatient Lovers can guess, what Pain and Languishments
+_Isabella_ suffer'd, not knowing the Cause of his Absence, nor daring to
+enquire; but she bore it out so admirably, that Dame _Katteriena_ never
+so much as suspected she had any Thoughts of that nature that perplex'd
+her, and now believ'd indeed she had conquer'd all her Uneasiness: And
+one day, when _Isabella_ and she were alone together, she ask'd that
+fair Dissembler, if she did not admire at the Conduct and Resolution of
+her Brother? 'Why!' (reply'd _Isabella_ unconcernedly, while her Heart
+was fainting within, for fear of ill News:) With that, _Katteriena_ told
+her the last Discourse she had with her Brother, and how at last she had
+persuaded him (for her sake) to quit his Passion; and that he had
+promis'd, he would endeavour to surmount it; and that, that was the
+reason he was absent now, and they were to see him no more, till he had
+made a Conquest over himself. You may assure your self, this News was
+not so welcom to _Isabella_, as _Katteriena_ imagin'd; yet still she
+dissembled, with a force, beyond what the most cunning Practitioner
+could have shewn, and carry'd her self before People, as if no Pressures
+had lain upon her Heart; but when alone retir'd, in order to her
+Devotion, she would vent her Griefs in the most deplorable manner, that
+a distress'd distracted Maid could do, and which, in spite of all her
+severe Penances, she found no abatement�of.
+
+At last _Henault_ came again to the _Monastery_, and, with a Look as gay
+as he could possibly assume, he saw his Sister, and told her, He had
+gain'd an absolute Victory over his Heart; and desir'd, he might see
+_Isabella_, only to convince, both her, and _Katteriena_, that he was no
+longer a Lover of that fair Creature, that had so lately charm'd him;
+that he had set Five thousand Pounds a Year, against a fruitless
+Passion, and found the solid Gold much the heavier in the Scale: And he
+smil'd, and talk'd the whole Day of indifferent things, with his Sister,
+and ask'd no more for _Isabella_; nor did _Isabella_ look, or ask, after
+him, but in her Heart. Two Months pass'd in this Indifference, till it
+was taken notice of, that Sister _Isabella_ came not to the _Grate_,
+when _Henault_ was there, as she us'd to do; this being spoken to Dame
+_Katteriena_, she told it to _Isabella_, and said, 'The _NUNS_ would
+believe, there was some Cause for her Absence, if she did not appear
+again': That if she could trust her Heart, she was sure she could trust
+her Brother, for he thought no more of her, she was confident; this, in
+lieu of pleasing, was a Dagger to the Heart of _Isabella_, who thought
+it time to retrieve the flying Lover, and therefore told _Katteriena_,
+She would the next Day entertain at the Low _Grate_, as she was wont to
+do, and accordingly, as soon as any People of Quality came, she appear'd
+there, where she had not been two Minutes, but she saw the lovely
+_Henault_, and it was well for both, that People were in the Room, they
+had else both sufficiently discover'd their Inclinations, or rather
+their not to be conceal'd Passions; after the General Conversation was
+over, by the going away of the Gentlemen that were at the _Grate_,
+_Katteriena_ being employ'd elsewhere, _Isabella_ was at last left alone
+with _Henault_; but who can guess the Confusion of these two Lovers, who
+wish'd, yet fear'd, to know each others Thoughts? She trembling with a
+dismal Apprehension, that he lov'd no more; and he almost dying with
+fear, she should Reproach or Upbraid him with his Presumption; so that
+both being possess'd with equal Sentiments of Love, Fear, and Shame,
+they both stood fix'd with dejected Looks and Hearts, that heav'd with
+stifled Sighs. At last, _Isabella_, the softer and tender-hearted of the
+two, tho' not the most a Lover perhaps, not being able to contain her
+Love any longer within the bounds of Dissimulation or Discretion, being
+by Nature innocent, burst out into Tears, and all fainting with pressing
+Thoughts within, she fell languishly into a Chair that stood there,
+while the distracted _Henault_, who could not come to her Assistance,
+and finding Marks of Love, rather than Anger or Disdain, in that
+Confusion of _Isabella's_, throwing himself on his Knees at the _Grate_,
+implor'd her to behold him, to hear him, and to pardon him, who dy'd
+every moment for her, and who ador'd her with a violent Ardor; but yet,
+with such an one, as should (tho' he perish'd with�it) be conformable to
+her Commands; and as he spoke, the Tears stream'd down his dying Eyes,
+that beheld her with all the tender Regard that ever Lover was capable
+of; she recover'd a little, and turn'd her too beautiful Face to him,
+and pierc'd him with a Look, that darted a thousand Joys and Flames into
+his Heart, with Eyes, that told him her Heart was burning and dying for
+him; for which Assurances, he made Ten thousand Asseverations of his
+never-dying Passion, and expressing as many Raptures and Excesses of
+Joy, to find her Eyes and Looks confess, he was not odious to her, and
+that the knowledge he was her Lover, did not make her hate him: In fine,
+he spoke so many things all soft and moving, and so well convinc'd her
+of his Passion, that she at last was compell'd by a mighty force,
+absolutely irresistible, to speak.
+
+'Sir, (said she) perhaps you will wonder, where I, a Maid, brought up in
+the simplicity of Virtue, should learn the Confidence, not only to hear
+of Love from you, but to confess I am sensible of the most violent of
+its Pain my self; and I wonder, and am amazed at my own Daring, that I
+should have the Courage, rather to speak, than dye, and bury it in
+silence; but such is my Fate. Hurried by an unknown Force, which I have
+endeavoured always, in vain, to resist, I�am compell'd to tell you,
+I�love you, and have done so from the first moment I saw you; and you
+are the only Man born to give me Life or Death, to make me Happy or
+Blest; perhaps, had I not been confin'd, and, as it were, utterly forbid
+by my Vow, as well as my Modesty, to tell you this, I�should not have
+been so miserable to have fallen thus low, as to have confess'd my
+Shame; but our Opportunities of Speaking are so few, and Letters so
+impossible to be sent without discovery, that perhaps this is the only
+time I shall ever have to speak with you alone.' And, at that word the
+Tears flow'd abundantly from her Eyes, and gave _Henault_ leave to
+speak. 'Ah Madam! (said�he) do not, as soon as you have rais'd me to the
+greatest Happiness in the World, throw me with one word beneath your
+Scorn, much easier 'tis to dye, and know I am lov'd, than never, never,
+hope to hear that blessed sound again from that beautiful Mouth: Ah,
+Madam! rather let me make use of this one opportunity our happy Luck has
+given us, and contrive how we may for ever see, and speak, to each
+other; let us assure one another, there are a thousand ways to escape a
+place so rigid, as denies us that Happiness; and denies the fairest Maid
+in the World, the privilege of her Creation, and the end to which she
+was form'd so Angelical.' And seeing _Isabella_ was going to speak, lest
+she should say something, that might dissuade from an Attempt so
+dangerous and wicked, he persu'd to tell her, it might be indeed the
+last moment Heaven would give 'em, and besought her to answer him what
+he implor'd, whether she would fly with him from the _Monastery_? At
+this Word, she grew pale, and started, as at some dreadful Sound, and
+cry'd, 'Hah! what is't you say? Is it possible, you should propose a
+thing so wicked? And can it enter into your Imagination, because I have
+so far forget my Virtue, and my Vow, to become a Lover, I�should
+therefore fall to so wretched a degree of Infamy and Reprobation? No,
+name it to me no more, if you would see me; and if it be as you say,
+a�Pleasure to be belov'd by me; for I will sooner dye, than yield to
+what .�.�. Alas! I�but too well approve!' These last words, she spoke
+with a fainting Tone, and the Tears fell anew from her fair soft Eyes.
+'If it be so,' said he, (with a Voice so languishing, it could scarce be
+heard) 'If it be so, and that you are resolv'd to try, if my Love be
+eternal without Hope, without expectation of any other Joy, than seeing
+and adoring you through the _Grate_; I am, and must, and will be
+contented, and you shall see, I�can prefer the Sighing to these cold
+Irons, that separate us, before all the Possessions of the rest of the
+World; that I chuse rather to lead my Life here, at this cruel Distance
+from you, for ever, than before the Embrace of all the Fair; and you
+shall see, how pleas'd I will be, to languish here; but as you see me
+decay, (for surely so I shall) do not triumph o're my languid Looks, and
+laugh at my Pale and meager Face; but, Pitying, say, How easily I might
+have preserv'd that Face, those Eyes, and all that Youth and Vigour, now
+no more, from this total Ruine I now behold it in, and love your Slave
+that dyes, and will be daily and visibly dying, as long as my Eyes can
+gaze on that fair Object, and my Soul be fed and kept alive with her
+Charming Wit and Conversation; if Love can live on such Airy Food, (tho'
+rich in it self, yet unfit, alone, to sustain Life) it shall be for ever
+dedicated to the lovely _ISABELLA_: But, oh! that time cannot be long!
+Fate will not lend her Slave many days, who loves too violently, to be
+satisfy'd to enjoy the fair Object of his Desires, no otherwise than at
+a _Grate_.'
+
+He ceas'd speaking, for Sighs and Tears stopt his Voice, and he begg'd
+the liberty to sit down; and his Looks being quite alter'd, _ISABELLA_
+found her self touch'd to the very Soul, with a concern the most tender,
+that ever yielding Maid was oppress'd with: She had no power to suffer
+him to Languish, while she by one soft word could restore him, and being
+about to say a thousand things that would have been agreeable to him,
+she saw herself approach'd by some of the _Nuns_, and only had time to
+say, 'If you love me, live and hope.' The rest of the _Nuns_ began to
+ask _Henault_ of News, for he always brought them all that was Novel in
+the Town, and they were glad still of his Visits, above all other, for
+they heard, how all Amours and Intrigues pass'd in the World, by this
+young Cavalier. These last words of _Isabella's_ were a Cordial to his
+Soul, and he, from that, and to conceal the present Affair, endeavour'd
+to assume all the Gaity he could, and told 'em all he could either
+remember, or invent, to please 'em, tho' he wish'd them a great way off
+at that time.
+
+Thus they pass'd the day, till it was a decent hour for him to quit the
+_Grate_, and for them to draw the Curtain; all that Night did _Isabella_
+dedicate to Love, she went to Bed, with a Resolution, to think over all
+she had to do, and to consider, how she should manage this great Affair
+of her Life: I�have already said, she had try'd all that was possible in
+Human Strength to perform, in the design of quitting a Passion so
+injurious to her Honour and Virtue, and found no means possible to
+accomplish it: She had try'd Fasting long, Praying fervently, rigid
+Penances and Pains, severe Disciplines, all the Mortification, almost to
+the destruction of Life it self, to conquer the unruly Flame; but still
+it burnt and rag'd but the more; so, at last, she was forc'd to permit
+that to conquer her, she could not conquer, and submitted to her Fate,
+as a thing destin'd her by Heaven it self; and after all this
+opposition, she fancy'd it was resisting even Divine Providence, to
+struggle any longer with her Heart; and this being her real Belief, she
+the more patiently gave way to all the Thoughts that pleas'd her.
+
+As soon as she was laid, without discoursing (as she us'd to do) to
+_Katteriena_, after they were in Bed, she pretended to be sleepy, and
+turning from her, setled her self to profound Thinking, and was resolv'd
+to conclude the Matter, between her Heart, and her Vow of Devotion, that
+Night, and she, having no more to determine, might end the Affair
+accordingly, the first opportunity she should have to speak to
+_Henault_, which was, to fly, and marry him; or, to remain for ever
+fix'd to her Vow of Chastity. This was the Debate; she brings Reason on
+both sides: Against the first, she sets the Shame of a Violated Vow, and
+considers, where she shall shew her Face after such an Action; to the
+Vow, she argues, that she was born in Sin, and could not live without
+it; that she was Human, and no Angel, and that, possibly, that Sin might
+be as soon forgiven, as another; that since all her devout Endeavours
+could not defend her from the Cause, Heaven ought to execute the Effect;
+that as to shewing her Face, so she saw that of _Henault_ always turned
+(Charming as it was) towards her with love; what had she to do with the
+World, or car'd to behold any other?
+
+Some times, she thought, it would be more Brave and Pious to dye, than
+to break her Vow; but she soon answer'd that, as false Arguing, for
+Self-Murder was the worst of Sins, and in the Deadly Number. She could,
+after such an Action, live to repent, and, of two Evils, she ought to
+chuse the least; she dreads to think, since she had so great a
+Reputation for Virtue and Piety, both in the _Monastery_, and in the
+World, what they both would say, when she should commit an Action so
+contrary to both these, she posest; but, after a whole Night's Debate,
+Love was strongest, and gain'd the Victory. She never went about to
+think, how she should escape, because she knew it would be easy, the
+keeping of the Key of the _Monastery_, [was] often intrusted in her
+keeping, and was, by turns, in the hands of many more, whose Virtue and
+Discretion was Infallible, and out of Doubt; besides, her Aunt being the
+Lady _Abbess_, she had greater privilege than the rest; so that she had
+no more to do, she thought, than to acquaint _Henault_ with her Design,
+as soon as she should get an opportunity. Which was not quickly; but, in
+the mean time, _Isabella's_ Father dy'd, which put some little stop to
+our Lover's Happiness, and gave her a short time of Grief; but Love,
+who, while he is new and young, can do us Miracles, soon wip'd her Eyes,
+and chas'd away all Sorrows from her Heart, and grew every day more and
+more impatient, to put her new Design in Execution, being every day more
+resolv'd. Her Father's Death had remov'd one Obstacle, and secur'd her
+from his Reproaches; and now she only wants Opportunity, first, to
+acquaint _Henault_, and then to fly.
+
+She waited not long, all things concurring to her desire; for
+_Katteriena_ falling sick, she had the good luck, as she call'd it then,
+to entertain _Henault_ at the _Grate_ oftentimes alone; the first moment
+she did so, she entertain'd him with the good News, and told him, She
+had at last vanquish'd her Heart in favour of him, and loving him above
+all things, Honour, her Vow or Reputation, had resolv'd to abandon her
+self wholly to him, to give her self up to love and serve him, and that
+she had no other Consideration in the World; but _Henault_, instead of
+returning her an Answer, all Joy and Satisfaction, held down his Eyes,
+and Sighing, with a dejected Look, he cry'd, 'Ah, Madam! Pity a Man so
+wretched and undone, as not to be sensible of this Blessing as I ought.'
+She grew pale at this Reply, and trembling, expected he would proceed:
+''Tis not (continued�he) that I want Love, tenderest Passion, and all
+the desire Youth and Love can inspire; But, Oh, Madam! when I consider,
+(for raving mad in Love as I am for your sake, I�do consider) that if I
+should take you from this Repose, Nobly Born and Educated, as you are;
+and, for that Act, should find a rigid Father deprive me of all that
+ought to support you, and afford your Birth, Beauty, and Merits, their
+due, what would you say? How would you Reproach me?' He sighing,
+expected her Answer, when Blushes overspreading her Face, she reply'd,
+in a Tone all haughty and angry, 'Ah, _Henault_! Am I then refus'd,
+after having abandon'd all things for you? Is it thus, you reward my
+Sacrific'd Honour, Vows, and Virtue? Cannot you hazard the loss of
+Fortune to possess _Isabella_, who loses all for you!' Then bursting
+into Tears, at her misfortune of Loving, she suffer'd him to say, 'Oh,
+Charming fair one! how industrious is your Cruelty, to find out new
+Torments for an Heart, already press'd down with the Severities of Love?
+Is it possible, you can make so unhappy a Construction of the tenderest
+part of my Passion? And can you imagin it want of Love in me, to
+consider, how I shall preserve and merit the vast Blessing Heaven has
+given me? Is my Care a Crime? And would not the most deserving Beauty of
+the World hate me, if I should, to preserve my Life, and satisfy the
+Passion of my fond Heart, reduce her to the Extremities of Want and
+Misery? And is there any thing, in what I have said, but what you ought
+to take for the greatest Respect and tenderness!' 'Alas! (reply'd
+_Isabella_ sighing) young as I am, all unskilful in Love I find, but
+what I feel, that Discretion is no part of it; and Consideration,
+inconsistent with the Nobler Passion, who will subsist of its own
+Nature, and Love unmixed with any other Sentiment? And 'tis not pure, if
+it be otherwise: I�know, had I mix'd Discretion with mine, my Love must
+have been less, I never thought of living, but my Love; and, if I
+consider'd at all, it was, that Grandure and Magnificence were useless
+Trifles to Lovers, wholly needless and troublesom. I�thought of living
+in some loanly Cottage, far from the noise of crowded busie Cities, to
+walk with thee in Groves, and silent Shades, where I might hear no Voice
+but thine; and when we had been tir'd, to sit us done by some cool
+murmuring Rivulet, and be to each a World, my Monarch thou, and I thy
+Sovereign Queen, while Wreaths of Flowers shall crown our happy Heads,
+some fragrant Bank our Throne, and Heaven our Canopy: Thus we might
+laugh at Fortune, and the Proud, despise the duller World, who place
+their Joys in mighty Shew and Equipage. Alas! my Nature could not bear
+it, I�am unus'd to Wordly Vanities, and would boast of nothing but my
+_Henault_; no Riches, but his Love; no Grandure, but his Presence.' She
+ended speaking, with Tears, and he reply'd, 'Now, now, I�find, my
+_Isabella_ loves indeed, when she's content to abandon the World for my
+sake; Oh! thou hast named the only happy Life that suits my quiet
+Nature, to be retir'd, has always been my Joy! But to be so with thee!
+Oh! thou hast charm'd me with a Thought so dear, as has for ever
+banish'd all my Care, but how to receive thy Goodness! Please think no
+more what my angry Parent may do, when he shall hear, how I have
+dispos'd of my self against his Will and Pleasure, but trust to Love and
+Providence; no more! be gone all Thoughts, but those of _Isabella_!'
+
+As soon as he had made an end of expressing his Joy, he fell to
+consulting how, and when, she should escape; and since it was uncertain,
+when she should be offer'd the Key, for she would not ask for it, she
+resolv'd to give him notice, either by word of Mouth, or a bit of Paper
+she would write in, and give him through the _Grate_ the first
+opportunity; and, parting for that time, they both resolv'd to get up
+what was possible for their Support, till Time should reconcile Affairs
+and Friends, and to wait the happy hour.
+
+_Isabella's_ dead Mother had left Jewels, of the value of 2000_l._ to
+her Daughter, at her Decease, which Jewels were in the possession, now,
+of the Lady _Abbess_, and were upon Sale, to be added to the Revenue of
+the _Monastery_; and as _Isabella_ was the most Prudent of her Sex, at
+least, had hitherto been so esteem'd, she was intrusted with all that
+was in possession of the Lady _Abbess_, and 'twas not difficult to make
+her self Mistress of all her own Jewels; as also, some 3 or 400_l._ in
+Gold, that was hoarded up in her Ladyship's Cabinet, against any
+Accidents that might arrive to the _Monastery_; these _Isabella_ also
+made her own, and put up with the Jewels; and having acquainted
+_Henault_, with the Day and Hour of her Escape, he got together what he
+could, and waiting for her, with his Coach, one Night, when no body was
+awake but her self, when rising softly, as she us'd to do, in the Night,
+to her Devotion, she stole so dexterously out of the _Monastery_, as no
+body knew any thing of it; she carry'd away the Keys with her, after
+having lock'd all the Doors, for she was intrusted often with all. She
+found _Henault_ waiting in his Coach, and trusted none but an honest
+Coachman that lov'd him; he receiv'd her with all the Transports of a
+truly ravish'd Lover, and she was infinitely charm'd with the new
+Pleasure of his Embraces and Kisses.
+
+They drove out of Town immediately, and because she durst not be seen in
+that Habit, (for it had been immediate Death for both) they drove into a
+Thicket some three Miles from the Town, where _Henault_ having brought
+her some of his younger Sister's Clothes, he made her put off her Habit,
+and put on those; and, rending the other, they hid them in a Sand-pit,
+covered over with Broom, and went that Night forty Miles from _Iper_, to
+a little Town upon the River _Rhine_, where, changing their Names, they
+were forthwith married, and took a House in a Country Village, a�Farm,
+where they resolv'd to live retir'd, by the name of _Beroone_, and drove
+a Farming Trade; however, not forgetting to set Friends and Engines at
+work, to get their Pardon, as Criminals, first, that had trangress'd the
+Law; and, next, as disobedient Persons, who had done contrary to the
+Will and Desire of their Parents: _Isabella_ writ to her Aunt the most
+moving Letters in the World, so did _Henault_ to his Father; but she was
+a long time, before she could gain so much as an answer from her Aunt,
+and _Henault_ was so unhappy, as never to gain one from his Father; who
+no sooner heard the News that was spread over all the Town and Country,
+that young _Henault_ was fled with the so fam'd _Isabella_, a _Nun_, and
+singular for Devotion and Piety of Life, but he immediately setled his
+Estate on his younger Son, cutting _Henault_ off with all his
+Birthright, which was 5000_l._ a Year. This News, you may believe, was
+not very pleasing to the young Man, who tho' in possession of the
+loveliest Virgin, and now Wife, that ever Man was bless'd with; yet when
+he reflected, he should have children by her, and these and she should
+come to want, (he�having been magnificently Educated, and impatient of
+scanty Fortune) he laid it to Heart, and it gave him a thousand
+Uneasinesses in the midst of unspeakable Joys; and the more be strove to
+hide his Sentiments from _Isabella_, the more tormenting it was within;
+he durst not name it to her, so insuperable a Grief it would cause in
+her, to hear him complain; and tho' she could live hardly, as being bred
+to a devout and severe Life, he could not, but must let the Man of
+Quality shew it self; even in the disguise of an humbler Farmer: Besides
+all this, he found nothing of his Industry thrive, his Cattel still dy'd
+in the midst of those that were in full Vigour and Health of other
+Peoples; his Crops of Wheat and Barly, and other Grain, tho' manag'd by
+able and knowing Husbandmen, were all, either Mildew'd, or Blasted, or
+some Misfortune still arriv'd to him; his Coach-Horses would fight and
+kill one another, his Barns sometimes be fir'd; so that it became a
+Proverb all over the Country, if any ill Luck had arriv'd to any body,
+they would say, 'They had Monsieur _BEROONE'S_ Luck.' All these
+Reflections did but add to his Melancholy, and he grew at last to be in
+some want, insomuch, that _Isabella_, who had by her frequent Letters,
+and submissive Supplications, to her Aunt, (who lov'd her tenderly)
+obtain'd her Pardon, and her Blessing; she now press'd her for some
+Money, and besought her to consider, how great a Fortune she had brought
+to the _Monastery_, and implor'd, she would allow her some Sallary out
+of it, for she had been marry'd two Years, and most of what she had was
+exhausted. The Aunt, who found, that what was done, could not be undone,
+did, from time to time, supply her so, as one might have liv'd very
+decently on that very Revenue; but that would not satisfy the great
+Heart of _Henault_. He was now about three and twenty Years old, and
+_Isabella_ about eighteen, too young, and too lovely a Pair, to begin
+their Misfortunes so soon; they were both the most Just and Pious in the
+World; they were Examples of Goodness, and Eminent for Holy Living, and
+for perfect Loving, and yet nothing thriv'd they undertook; they had no
+Children, and all their Joy was in each other; at last, one good Fortune
+arriv'd to them, by the Solicitations of the Lady _Abbess_, and the
+_Bishop_, who was her near Kinsman, they got a Pardon for _Isabella's_
+quitting the _Monastery_, and marrying, so that she might now return
+to her own Country again. _Henault_ having also his Pardon, they
+immediately quit the place, where they had remain'd for two Years, and
+came again into _Flanders_, hoping, the change of place might afford 'em
+better Luck.
+
+_Henault_ then began again to solicit his Cruel Father, but nothing
+would do, he refus'd to see him, or to receive any Letters from him;
+but, at last, he prevail'd so far with him, as that he sent a Kinsman to
+him, to assure him, if he would leave his Wife, and go into the _French_
+Campagn, he would Equip him as well as his Quality requir'd, and that,
+according as he behav'd himself, he should gain his Favour; but if he
+liv'd Idly at home, giving up his Youth and Glory to lazy Love, he would
+have no more to say to him, but race him out of his Heart, and out of
+his Memory.
+
+He had setled himself in a very pretty House, furnished with what was
+fitting for the Reception of any Body of Quality that would live a
+private Life, and they found all the Respect that their Merits deserv'd
+from all the World, every body entirely loving and endeavouring to serve
+them; and _Isabella_ so perfectly had the Ascendent over her Aunt's
+Heart, that she procur'd from her all that she could desire, and much
+more than she could expect. She was perpetually progging and saving all
+that she could, to enrich and advance her, and, at last, pardoning and
+forgiving _Henault_, lov'd him as her own Child; so that all things
+look'd with a better Face than before, and never was so dear and fond a
+Couple seen, as _Henault_ and _Isabella_; but, at last, she prov'd with
+Child, and the Aunt, who might reasonably believe, so young a Couple
+would have a great many Children, and foreseeing there was no Provision
+likely to be made them, unless he pleas'd his Father, for if the Aunt
+should chance to dye, all their Hope was gone; she therefore daily
+solicited him to obey his Father, and go to the Camp; and that having
+atchiev'd Fame and Renown, he would return a Favourite to his Father,
+and Comfort to his Wife: After she had solicited in vain, for he was not
+able to endure the thought of leaving _Isabella_, melancholy as he was
+with his ill Fortune; the _Bishop_, kinsman to _Isabella_, took him to
+task, and urg'd his Youth and Birth, and that he ought not to wast both
+without Action, when all the World was employ'd; and, that since his
+Father had so great a desire he should go into a Campagn, either to
+serve the _Venetian_ against the _Turks_, or into the _French_ Service,
+which he lik'd best; he besought him to think of it; and since he had
+satisfy'd his Love, he should and ought to satisfy his Duty, it being
+absolutely necessary for the wiping off the Stain of his Sacrilege, and
+to gain him the favour of Heaven, which, he found, had hitherto been
+averse to all he had undertaken: In fine, all his Friends, and all who
+lov'd him, joyn'd in this Design, and all thought it convenient, nor was
+he insensible of the Advantage it might bring him; but Love, which every
+day grew fonder and fonder in his Heart, oppos'd all their Reasonings,
+tho' he saw all the Brave Youth of the Age preparing to go, either to
+one Army, or the other.
+
+At last, he lets _Isabella_ know, what Propositions he had made him,
+both by his Father, and his Relations; at the very first Motion, she
+almost fainted in his Arms, while he was speaking, and it possess'd her
+with so intire a Grief, that she miscarry'd, to the insupportable
+Torment of her tender Husband and Lover, so that, to re-establish her
+Repose, he was forc'd to promise not to go; however, she consider'd all
+their Circumstances, and weigh'd the Advantages that might redound both
+to his Honour and Fortune, by it; and, in a matter of a Month's time,
+with the Persuasions and Reasons of her Friends, she suffer'd him to
+resolve upon going, her self determining to retire to the _Monastery_,
+till the time of his Return; but when she nam'd the _Monastery_, he grew
+pale and disorder'd, and obliged her to promise him, not to enter into
+it any more, for fear they should never suffer her to come forth again;
+so that he resolv'd not to depart, till she had made a Vow to him, never
+to go again within the Walls of a Religious House, which had already
+been so fatal to them. She promis'd, and he believ'd.
+
+_Henault_, at last, overcame his Heart, which pleaded so for his Stay,
+and sent his Father word, he was ready to obey him, and to carry the
+first Efforts of his Arms against the common Foes of Christendom, the
+_Turks_; his Father was very well pleas'd at this, and sent him Two
+thousand Crowns, his Horses and Furniture sutable to his Quality, and a
+Man to wait on him; so that it was not long e're he got himself in order
+to be gone, after a dismal parting.
+
+He made what hast he could to the _French_ Army, then under the Command
+of the Monsignior, the Duke of _Beaufort_, then at _Candia_, and put
+himself a Voluntier under his Conduct; in which Station was _Villenoys_,
+who, you have already heard, was so passionate a Lover of _Isabella_,
+who no sooner heard of _Henault's_ being arriv'd, and that he was
+Husband to _Isabella_, but he was impatient to learn, by what strange
+Adventure he came to gain her, even from her Vow'd Retreat, when he,
+with all his Courtship, could not be so happy, tho' she was then free in
+the World, and Unvow'd to Heaven.
+
+As soon as he sent his Name to _Henault_, he was sent for up, for
+_Henault_ had heard of _Villenoys_, and that he had been a Lover of
+_Isabella_; they receiv'd one another with all the endearing Civility
+imaginable for the aforesaid Reason, and for that he was his
+Country-man, tho' unknown to him, _Villenoys_ being gone to the Army,
+just as _Henault_ came from the _Jesuits_ College. A�great deal of
+Endearment pass'd between them, and they became, from that moment, like
+two sworn Brothers, and he receiv'd the whole Relation from _Henault_,
+of his Amour.
+
+It was not long before the Siege began anew, for he arriv'd at the
+beginning of the Spring, and, as soon as he came, almost, they fell to
+Action; and it happen'd upon a day, that a Party of some Four hundred
+Men resolv'd to sally out upon the Enemy, as, when ever they could, they
+did; but as it is not my business to relate the History of the War,
+being wholly unacquainted with the Terms of Battels, I�shall only say,
+That these Men were led by _Villenoys_, and that _Henault_ would
+accompany him in this Sally, and that they acted very Noble, and great
+Things, worthy of a Memory in the History of that Siege; but this day,
+particularly, they had an occasion to shew their Valour, which they did
+very much to their Glory; but, venturing too far, they were ambush'd, in
+the persuit of the Party of the Enemies, and being surrounded,
+_Villenoys_ had the unhappiness to see his gallant Friend fall, fighting
+and dealing of Wounds around him, even as he descended to the Earth, for
+he fell from his Horse at the same moment that he kill'd a _Turk_; and
+_Villenoys_ could neither assist him, nor had he the satisfaction to be
+able to rescue his dead Body from under the Horses, but, with much ado,
+escaping with his own Life, got away, in spite of all that follow'd him,
+and recover'd the Town, before they could overtake him: He passionately
+bewail'd the Loss of this brave young Man, and offer'd any Recompence to
+those, that would have ventur'd to have search'd for his dead Body among
+the Slain; but it was not fit to hazard the Living, for unnecessary
+Services to the Dead; and tho' he had a great mind to have Interr'd him,
+he rested content with what he wish'd to pay his Friends Memory, tho' he
+could not: So that all the Service now he could do him, was, to write to
+_Isabella_, to whom he had not writ, tho' commanded by her so to do, in
+three Years before, which was never since she took Orders. He gave her
+an Account of the Death of her Husband, and how Gloriously he fell
+fighting for the Holy Cross, and how much Honour he had won, if it had
+been his Fate to have outliv'd that great, but unfortunate, Day, where,
+with 400 Men, they had kill'd 1500 of the Enemy. The General _Beaufort_
+himself had so great a Respect and Esteem for this young Man, and
+knowing him to be of Quality, that he did him the honour to bemoan him,
+and to send a Condoling Letter to _Isabella_, how much worth her Esteem
+he dy'd, and that he had Eterniz'd his Memory with the last Gasp of his
+Life.
+
+When this News arriv'd, it may be easily imagin'd, what Impressions, or
+rather Ruins, it made in the Heart of this fair Mourner; the Letters
+came by his Man, who saw him fall in Battel, and came off with those few
+that escap'd with _Villenoys_; he brought back what Money he had, a�few
+Jewels, with _Isabella's_ Picture that he carry'd with him and had left
+in his Chamber in the Fort at _Candia_, for fear of breaking it in
+Action. And now _Isabella's_ Sorrow grew to the Extremity, she thought,
+she could not suffer more than she did by his Absence, but she now found
+a Grief more killing; she hung her Chamber with Black, and liv'd without
+the Light of Day: Only Wax Lights, that let her behold the Picture of
+this Charming Man, before which she sacrific'd Floods of Tears. He had
+now been absent about ten Months, and she had learnt just to live
+without him, but Hope preserv'd her then; but now she had nothing, for
+which to wish to live. She, for about two Months after the News arriv'd,
+liv'd without seeing any Creature but a young Maid, that was her Woman;
+but extream Importunity oblig'd her to give way to the Visits of her
+Friends, who endeavour'd to restore her Melancholy Soul to its wonted
+Easiness; for, however it was oppress'd within, by _Henault's_ Absence,
+she bore it off with a modest Chearfulness; but now she found, that
+Fortitude and Virtue fail'd her, when she was assur'd, he was no more:
+She continu'd thus Mourning, and thus inclos'd, the space of a whole
+Year, never suffering the Visit of any Man, but of a near Relation; so
+that she acquir'd a Reputation, such as never any young Beauty had, for
+she was now but Nineteen, and her Face and Shape more excellent than
+ever; she daily increas'd in Beauty, which, joyn'd to her Exemplary
+Piety, Charity, and all other excellent Qualities, gain'd her a
+wonderous Fame, and begat an Awe and Reverence in all that heard of her,
+and there was no Man of any Quality, that did not Adore her. After her
+Year was up, she went to the Churches, but would never be seen any where
+else abroad, but that was enough to procure her a thousand Lovers; and
+some, who had the boldness to send her Letters, which, if she receiv'd,
+she gave no Answer to, and many she sent back unread and unseal'd: So
+that she would encourage none, tho' their Quality was far beyond what
+she could hope; but she was resolv'd to marry no more, however her
+Fortune might require�it.
+
+It happen'd, that, about this time, _Candia_ being unfortunately taken
+by the _Turks_, all the brave Men that escap'd the Sword, return'd,
+among them, _Villenoys_, who no sooner arriv'd, but he sent to let
+_Isabella_ know of it, and to beg the Honour of waiting on her; desirous
+to learn what Fate befel her dear Lord, she suffer'd him to visit her,
+where he found her, in her Mourning, a�thousand times more Fair,
+(at�least, he fancy'd�so) than ever she appear'd to be; so that if he
+lov'd her before, he now ador'd her; if he burnt then, he rages now; but
+the awful Sadness, and soft Languishment of her Eyes, hinder'd him from
+the presumption of speaking of his Passion to her, tho' it would have
+been no new thing; and his first Visit was spent in the Relation of
+every Circumstance of _Henault's_ Death; and, at his going away, he
+begg'd leave to visit her sometimes, and she gave him permission: He
+lost no time, but made use of the Liberty she had given him; and when
+his Sister, who was a great Companion of _Isabella's_, went to see her,
+he would still wait on her; so that, either with his own Visits, and
+those of his Sister's, he saw _Isabella_ every day, and had the good
+luck to see, he diverted her, by giving her Relations of Transactions of
+the Siege, and the Customs and Manners of the _Turks_: All he said, was
+with so good a Grace, that he render'd every thing agreeable; he was,
+besides, very Beautiful, well made, of Quality and Fortune, and fit to
+inspire Love.
+
+He made his Visits so often, and so long, that, at last, he took the
+Courage to speak of his Passion, which, at first, _Isabella_ would by no
+means hear of, but, by degrees, she yielded more and more to listen to
+his tender Discourse; and he liv'd thus with her two Years, before he
+could gain any more upon her Heart, than to suffer him to speak of Love
+to her; but that, which subdu'd her quite was, That her Aunt, the Lady
+_Abbess_, dy'd, and with her, all the Hopes and Fortune of _Isabella_,
+so that she was left with only a Charming Face and Meen, a�Virtue, and a
+Discretion above her Sex, to make her Fortune within the World; into a
+Religious House, she was resolv'd not to go, because her Heart deceiv'd
+her once, and she durst not trust it again, whatever it promis'd.
+
+The death of this Lady made her look more favourably on _Villenoys_; but
+yet, she was resolv'd to try his Love to the utmost, and keep him off,
+as long as 'twas possible she could subsist, and 'twas for Interest she
+married again, tho' she lik'd the Person very well; and since she was
+forc'd to submit her self to be a second time a Wife, she thought, she
+could live better with _Villenoys_, than any other, since for him she
+ever had a great Esteem; and fancy'd the Hand of Heaven had pointed out
+her Destiny, which she could not avoid, without a Crime.
+
+So that when she was again importun'd by her impatient Lover, she told
+him, She had made a Vow to remain three Years, at least, before she
+would marry again, after the Death of the best of Men and Husbands, and
+him who had the Fruits of her early Heart; and, notwithstanding all the
+Solicitations of _Villenoys_, she would not consent to marry him, till
+her Vow of Widowhood was expir'd.
+
+He took her promise, which he urg'd her to give him, and to shew the
+height of his Passion in his obedience; he condescends to stay her
+appointed time, tho' he saw her every day, and all his Friends and
+Relations made her Visits upon this new account, and there was nothing
+talk'd on, but this design'd Wedding, which, when the time was expir'd,
+was perform'd accordingly with great Pomp and Magnificence, for
+_Villenoys_ had no Parents to hinder his Design; or if he had, the
+Reputation and Virtue of this Lady would have subdu'd them.
+
+The Marriage was celebrated in this House, where she liv'd ever since
+her Return from _Germany_, from the time she got her Pardon; and when
+_Villenoys_ was preparing all things in a more magnificent Order at his
+Villa, some ten Miles from the City, she was very melancholy, and would
+often say, She had been us'd to such profound Retreat, and to live
+without the fatigue of Noise and Equipage, that, she fear'd, she should
+never endure that Grandeur, which was proper for his Quality; and tho'
+the House, in the Country, was the most beautifully Situated in all
+_Flanders_, she was afraid of a numerous Train, and kept him, for the
+most part, in this pretty City Mansion, which he Adorn'd and Enlarg'd,
+as much as she would give him leave; so that there wanted nothing, to
+make this House fit to receive the People of the greatest Quality,
+little as it was: But all the Servants and Footmen, all but one _Valet_,
+and the Maid, were lodg'd abroad, for _Isabella_, not much us'd to the
+sight of Men about her, suffer'd them as seldom as possible, to come in
+her Presence, so that she liv'd more like a _Nun_ still, than a Lady of
+the World; and very rarely any Maids came about her, but _Maria_, who
+had always permission to come, when ever she pleas'd, unless forbidden.
+
+As _Villenoys_ had the most tender and violent Passion for his Wife, in
+the World, he suffer'd her to be pleas'd at any rate, and to live in
+what Method she best lik'd, and was infinitely satisfy'd with the
+Austerity and manner of her Conduct, since in his Arms, and alone, with
+him, she wanted nothing that could Charm; so that she was esteemed the
+fairest and best of Wives, and he the most happy of all Mankind. When
+she would go abroad, she had her Coaches Rich and Gay, and her Livery
+ready to attend her in all the Splendour imaginable; and he was always
+buying one rich Jewel, or Necklace, or some great Rarity or other, that
+might please her; so that there was nothing her Soul could desire, which
+it had not, except the Assurance of Eternal Happiness, which she
+labour'd incessantly to gain. She had no Discontent, but because she was
+not bless'd with a Child; but she submits to the pleasure of Heaven, and
+endeavour'd, by her good Works, and her Charity, to make the Poor her
+Children, and was ever doing Acts of Virtue, to make the Proverb good,
+_That more are the Children of the Barren, than the Fruitful Woman_. She
+liv'd in this Tranquility, belov'd by all, for the space of five Years,
+and Time (and perpetual Obligations from _Villenoys_, who was the most
+indulgent and indearing Man in the World) had almost worn out of her
+Heart the Thought of _Henault_, or if she remember'd him, it was in her
+Prayers, or sometimes with a short sigh, and no more, tho' it was a
+great while, before she could subdue her Heart to that Calmness; but she
+was prudent, and wisely bent all her Endeavours to please, oblige, and
+caress, the deserving Living, and to strive all she could, to forget the
+unhappy Dead, since it could not but redound to the disturbance of her
+Repose, to think of him; so that she had now transferr'd all that
+Tenderness she had for him, to _Villenoys_.
+
+_Villenoys_, of all Diversions, lov'd Hunting, and kept, at his Country
+House, a�very famous Pack of Dogs, which he us'd to lend, sometimes, to
+a young Lord, who was his dear Friend, and his Neighbour in the Country,
+who would often take them, and be out two or three days together, where
+he heard of Game, and oftentimes _Villenoys_ and he would be a whole
+Week at a time exercising in this Sport, for there was no Game near at
+hand. This young Lord had sent him a Letter, to invite him fifteen Miles
+farther than his own _Villa_, to hunt, and appointed to meet him at his
+Country House, in order to go in search of this promis'd Game; So that
+_Villenoys_ got about a Week's Provision, of what Necessaries he thought
+he should want in that time; and taking only his _Valet_, who lov'd the
+Sport, he left _Isabella_ for a Week to her Devotion, and her other
+innocent Diversions of fine Work, at which she was Excellent, and left
+the Town to go meet this young Challenger.
+
+When _Villenoys_ was at any time out, it was the custom of _Isabella_ to
+retire to her Chamber, and to receive no Visits, not even the Ladies, so
+absolutely she devoted her self to her Husband: All the first day she
+pass'd over in this manner, and Evening being come, she order'd her
+Supper to be brought to her Chamber, and, because it was Washing-day the
+next day, she order'd all her Maids to go very early to Bed, that they
+might be up betimes, and to leave only _Maria_ to attend her; which was
+accordingly done. This _Maria_ was a young Maid, that was very discreet,
+and, of all things in the World, lov'd her Lady, whom she had liv'd
+with, ever since she came from the _Monastery_.
+
+When all were in Bed, and the little light Supper just carry'd up to the
+Lady, and only, as I said, _Maria_ attending, some body knock'd at the
+Gate, it being about Nine of the Clock at Night; so _Maria_ snatching up
+a Candle, went to the Gate, to see who it might be; when she open'd the
+Door, she found a Man in a very odd Habit, and a worse Countenance, and
+asking, Who he would speak with? He told her, Her Lady: My Lady (reply'd
+_Maria_) does not use to receive Visits at this hour; Pray, what is your
+Business? He reply'd, That which I will deliver only to your Lady, and
+that she may give me Admittance, pray, deliver her this Ring: And
+pulling off a small Ring, with _Isabella's_ Name and Hair in it, he gave
+it _Maria_, who, shutting the Gate upon him, went in with the Ring; as
+soon as _Isabella_ saw it, she was ready to swound on the Chair where
+she sate, and cry'd, Where had you this? _Maria_ reply'd, An old rusty
+Fellow at the Gate gave it me, and desired, it might be his Pasport to
+you; I�ask'd his Name, but he said, You knew him not, but he had great
+News to tell you. _Isabella_ reply'd, (almost swounding again) Oh,
+_Maria!_ I am ruin'd. The Maid, all this while, knew not what she meant,
+nor, that that was a Ring given to _Henault_ by her Mistress, but
+endeavouring to recover her, only ask'd her, What she should say to the
+old Messenger? _Isabella_ bid her bring him up to her, (she had scarce
+Life to utter these last words) and before she was well recover'd,
+_Maria_ enter'd with the Man; and _Isabella_ making a Sign to her, to
+depart the Room, she was left alone with him.
+
+_Henault_ (for it was he) stood trembling and speechless before her,
+giving her leisure to take a strict Survey of him; at first finding no
+Feature nor Part of _Henault_ about him, her Fears began to lessen, and
+she hop'd, it was not he, as her first Apprehensions had suggested; when
+he (with the Tears of Joy standing in his Eyes, and not daring suddenly
+to approach her, for fear of encreasing that Disorder he saw in her pale
+Face) began to speak to her, and cry'd, Fair Creature! is there no
+Remains of your _Henault_ left in this Face of mine, all o'regrown with
+Hair? Nothing in these Eyes, sunk with eight Years Absence from you, and
+Sorrows? Nothing in this Shape, bow'd with Labour and Griefs, that can
+inform you? I�was once that happy Man you lov'd! At these words, Tears
+stop'd his Speech, and _Isabella_ kept them Company, for yet she wanted
+Words. Shame and Confusion fill'd her Soul, and she was not able to lift
+her Eyes up, to consider the Face of him, whose Voice she knew so
+perfectly well. In one moment, she run over a thousand Thoughts. She
+finds, by his Return, she is not only expos'd to all the Shame
+imaginable; to all the Upbraiding, on his part, when he shall know she
+is marry'd to another; but all the Fury and Rage of _Villenoys_, and the
+Scorn of the Town, who will look on her as an Adulteress: She sees
+_Henault_ poor, and knew, she must fall from all the Glory and
+Tranquility she had for five happy Years triumph'd in; in which time,
+she had known no Sorrow, or Care, tho' she had endur'd a thousand with
+_Henault_. She dyes, to think, however, that he should know, she had
+been so lightly in Love with him, to marry again; and she dyes, to
+think, that _Villenoys_ must see her again in the Arms of _Henault_;
+besides, she could not recal her Love, for Love, like Reputation, once
+fled, never returns more. 'Tis impossible to love, and cease to love,
+(and love another) and yet return again to the first Passion, tho' the
+Person have all the Charms, or a thousand times more than it had, when
+it first conquer'd. This Mistery in Love, it may be, is not generally
+known, but nothing is more certain. One may a while suffer the Flame to
+languish, but there may be a reviving Spark in the Ashes, rak'd up, that
+may burn anew; but when 'tis quite extinguish'd, it never returns or
+rekindles.
+
+'Twas so with the Heart of _Isabella_; had she believ'd, _Henault_ had
+been living, she had lov'd to the last moment of their Lives; but, alas!
+the Dead are soon forgotten, and she now lov'd only _Villenoys_.
+
+After they had both thus silently wept, with very different sentiments,
+she thought 'twas time to speak; and dissembling as well as she could,
+she caress'd him in her Arms, and told him, She could not express her
+Surprize and Joy for his Arrival. If she did not Embrace him heartily,
+or speak so Passionately as she us'd to do, he fancy'd it her Confusion,
+and his being in a condition not so fit to receive Embraces from her;
+and evaded them as much as 'twas possible for him to do, in respect to
+her, till he had dress'd his Face, and put himself in order; but the
+Supper being just brought up, when he knock'd, she order'd him to sit
+down and Eat, and he desir'd her not to let _Maria_ know who he was, to
+see how long it would be, before she knew him or would call him to mind.
+But _Isabella_ commanded _Maria_, to make up a Bed in such a Chamber,
+without disturbing her Fellows, and dismiss'd her from waiting at Table.
+The Maid admir'd, what strange, good, and joyful News, this Man had
+brought her Mistress, that he was so Treated, and alone with her, which
+never any Man had yet been; but she never imagin'd the Truth, and knew
+her Lady's Prudence too well, to question her Conduct. While they were
+at Supper, _Isabella_ oblig'd him to tell her, How he came to be
+reported Dead; of which, she receiv'd Letters, both from Monsieur
+_Villenoys_, and the Duke of _Beaufort_, and by his Man the News, who
+saw him Dead? He told her, That, after the Fight, of which, first, he
+gave her an account, he being left among the Dead, when the Enemy came
+to Plunder and strip 'em, they found, he had Life in him, and appearing
+as an Eminent Person, they thought it better Booty to save me,
+(continu'd�he) and get my Ransom, than to strip me, and bury me among
+the Dead; so they bore me off to a Tent, and recover'd me to Life; and,
+after that, I�was recover'd of my Wounds, and sold, by the Soldier that
+had taken me, to a Spahee, who kept me a Slave, setting a great Ransom
+on me, such as I was not able to pay. I�writ several times, to give you,
+and my Father, an account of my Misery, but receiv'd no Answer, and
+endur'd seven Years of Dreadful Slavery: When I found, at last, an
+opportunity to make my Escape, and from that time, resolv'd, never to
+cut the Hair of this Beard, till I should either see my dearest
+_Isabella_ again, or hear some News of her. All that I fear'd, was, That
+she was Dead; and, at that word, he fetch'd a deep Sigh; and viewing all
+things so infinitely more Magnificent than he had left 'em, or,
+believ'd, she could afford; and, that she was far more Beautiful in
+Person, and Rich in Dress, than when he left her: He had a thousand
+Torments of Jealousie that seiz'd him, of which, he durst not make any
+mention, but rather chose to wait a little, and see, whether she had
+lost her Virtue: He desir'd, he might send for a Barber, to put his Face
+in some handsomer Order, and more fit for the Happiness 'twas that Night
+to receive; but she told him, No Dress, no Disguise, could render him
+more Dear and Acceptable to her, and that to morrow was time enough, and
+that his Travels had render'd him more fit for Repose, than Dressing. So
+that after a little while, they had talk'd over all they had a mind to
+say, all that was very indearing on his side, and as much Concern as she
+could force, on hers; she conducted him to his Chamber, which was very
+rich, and which gave him a very great addition of Jealousie: However, he
+suffer'd her to help him to Bed, which she seem'd to do, with all the
+tenderness in the World; and when she had seen him laid, she said, She
+would go to her Prayers, and come to him as soon as she had done, which
+being before her usual Custom, it was not a wonder to him she stay'd
+long, and he, being extreamly tir'd with his Journy, fell asleep. 'Tis
+true, _Isabella_ essay'd to Pray, but alas! it was in vain, she was
+distracted with a thousand Thoughts what to do, which the more she
+thought, the more it distracted her; she was a thousand times about to
+end her Life, and, at one stroke, rid her self of the Infamy, that, she
+saw, must inevitably fall upon her; but Nature was frail, and the
+Tempter strong: And after a thousand Convulsions, even worse than Death
+it self, she resolv'd upon the Murder of _Henault_, as the only means of
+removing all the obstacles to her future Happiness; she resolv'd on
+this, but after she had done so, she was seiz'd with so great Horror,
+that she imagin'd, if she perform'd it, she should run Mad; and yet, if
+she did not, she should be also Frantick, with the Shames and Miseries
+that would befal her; and believing the Murder the least Evil, since she
+could never live with him, she fix'd her Heart on that; and causing her
+self to be put immediately to Bed, in her own Bed, she made _Maria_ go
+to hers, and when all was still, she softly rose, and taking a Candle
+with her, only in her Night-Gown and Slippers, she goes to the Bed of
+the Unfortunate _Henault_, with a Penknife in her hand; but considering,
+she knew not how to conceal the Blood, should she cut his Throat, she
+resolves to Strangle him, or Smother him with a Pillow; that last
+thought was no sooner borne, but put in Execution; and, as he soundly
+slept, she smother'd him without any Noise, or so much as his Strugling:
+But when she had done this dreadful Deed, and saw the dead Corps of her
+once-lov'd Lord, lye Smiling (as�it were) upon her, she fell into a
+Swound with the Horror of the Deed, and it had been well for her she had
+there dy'd; but she reviv'd again, and awaken'd to more and new Horrors,
+she flyes all frighted from the Chamber, and fancies, the Phantom of her
+dead Lord persues her; she runs from Room to Room, and starts and
+stares, as if she saw him continually before her. Now all that was ever
+Soft and Dear to her, with him, comes into her Heart, and, she finds, he
+conquers anew, being Dead, who could not gain her Pity, while Living.
+
+While she was thus flying from her Guilt, in vain, she hears one knock
+with Authority at the Door: She is now more affrighted, if possible, and
+knows not whither to fly for Refuge; she fancies, they are already the
+Officers of Justice, and that Ten thousand Tortures and Wrecks are
+fastening on her, to make her confess the horrid Murder; the knocking
+increases, and so loud, that the Laundry Maids believing it to be the
+Woman that us'd to call them up, and help them to Wash, rose, and,
+opening the Door, let in _Villenoys_; who having been at his Country
+_Villa_, and finding there a Footman, instead of his Friend, who waited
+to tell him, His Master was fallen sick of the Small Pox, and could not
+wait on him, he took Horse, and came back to his lovely _Isabella_; but
+running up, as he us'd to do, to her Chamber, he found her not, and
+seeing a Light in another Room, he went in, but found _Isabella_ flying
+from him, out at another Door, with all the speed she could, he admires
+at this Action, and the more, because his Maid told him Her Lady had
+been a Bed a good while; he grows a little Jealous, and persues her, but
+still she flies; at last he caught her in his Arms, where she fell into
+a swound, but quickly recovering, he set her down in a Chair, and,
+kneeling before her, implor'd to know what she ayl'd, and why she fled
+from him, who ador'd her? She only fix'd a ghastly Look upon him, and
+said, She was not well: 'Oh! (said�he) put not me off with such poor
+Excuses, _Isabella_ never fled from me, when Ill, but came to my Arms,
+and to my Bosom, to find a Cure; therefore, tell me, what's the matter?'
+At that, she fell a weeping in a most violent manner, and cry'd, She was
+for ever undone: He, being mov'd with Love and Compassion, conjur'd her
+to tell what she ayl'd: 'Ah! (said she) thou and I, and all of us, are
+undone!' At this, he lost all Patience and rav'd, and cry'd, Tell me,
+and tell me immediately, what's the matter? When she saw his Face pale,
+and his Eyes fierce, she fell on her knees, and cry'd, 'Oh! you can
+never Pardon me, if I should tell you, and yet, alas! I�am innocent of
+Ill, by all that's good, I�am.' But her Conscience accusing her at that
+word, she was silent. If thou art Innocent, said _Villenoys_, taking her
+up in his Arms, and kissing her wet Face, 'By all that's Good, I�Pardon
+thee, what ever thou hast done.' 'Alas! (said she) Oh! but I dare not
+name it, 'till you swear.' 'By all that's Sacred, (reply'd�he) and by
+whatever Oath you can oblige me to; by my inviolable Love to thee, and
+by thy own dear Self, I�swear, whate're it be, I�do forgive thee;
+I�know, thou art too good to commit a Sin I may not with Honour,
+pardon.'
+
+With this, and hearten'd by his Caresses, she told him, That _Henault_
+was return'd; and repeating to him his Escape, she said, She had put him
+to Bed, and when he expected her to come, she fell on her Knees at the
+Bedside, and confess'd, She was married to _Villenoys_; at that word
+(said she) he fetch'd a deep Sigh or two, and presently after, with a
+very little struggling, dy'd; and, yonder, he lyes still in the Bed.
+After this, she wept so abundantly, that all _Villenoys_ could do, could
+hardly calm her Spirits; but after, consulting what they should do in
+this Affair, _Villenoys_ ask'd her, Who of the House saw him? She said,
+Only _Maria_, who knew not who he was; so that, resolving to save
+_Isabella's_ Honour, which was the only Misfortune to come, _Villenoys_
+himself propos'd the carrying him out to the Bridge, and throwing him
+into the River, where the Stream would carry him down to the Sea, and
+lose him; or, if he were found, none could know him. So _Villenoys_ took
+a Candle, and went and look'd on him, and found him altogether chang'd,
+that no Body would know who he was; he therefore put on his Clothes,
+which was not hard for him to do, for he was scarce yet cold, and
+comforting again _Isabella_, as well as he could, he went himself into
+the Stable, and fetched a Sack, such as they us'd for Oats, a�new Sack,
+whereon stuck a great Needle, with a Pack-thread in it; this Sack he
+brings into the House, and shews to _Isabella_, telling her, He would
+put the Body in there, for the better convenience of carrying it on his
+Back. _Isabella_ all this while said but little, but, fill'd with
+Thoughts all Black and Hellish, she ponder'd within, while the Fond and
+Passionate _Villenoys_ was endeavouring to hide her Shame, and to make
+this an absolute Secret: She imagin'd, that could she live after a Deed
+so black, _Villenoys_ would be eternal reproaching her, if not with his
+Tongue, at least with his Heart, and embolden'd by one Wickedness, she
+was the readier for another, and another of such a Nature, as has, in my
+Opinion, far less Excuse, than the first; but when Fate begins to
+afflict, she goes through stitch with her Black Work.
+
+When _Villenoys_, who would, for the Safety of _Isabella's_ Honour, be
+the sole Actor in the disposing of this Body; and since he was Young,
+Vigorous, and Strong, and able to bear it, would trust no one with the
+Secret, he having put up the Body, and ty'd it fast, set it on a Chair,
+turning his Back towards it, with the more conveniency to take it upon
+his Back, bidding _Isabella_ give him the two Corners of the Sack in his
+Hands; telling her, They must do this last office for the Dead, more, in
+order to the securing their Honour and Tranquility hereafter, than for
+any other Reason, and bid her be of good Courage, till he came back, for
+it was not far to the Bridge, and it being the dead of the Night, he
+should pass well enough. When he had the Sack on his Back, and ready to
+go with it, she cry'd, Stay, my Dear, some of his Clothes hang out,
+which I will put in; and with that, taking the Pack-needle with the
+Thread, sew'd the Sack, with several strong Stitches, to the Collar of
+_Villenoy's_ Coat, without his perceiving it, and bid him go now; and
+when you come to the Bridge, (said she) and that you are throwing him
+over the Rail, (which is not above Breast high) be sure you give him a
+good swing, least the Sack should hang on any thing at the side of the
+Bridge, and not fall into the Stream; I'le warrant you, (said
+_Villenoys_) I know how to secure his falling. And going his way with
+it, Love lent him Strength, and he soon arriv'd at the Bridge; where,
+turning his Back to the Rail, and heaving the Body over, he threw
+himself with all his force backward, the better to swing the Body into
+the River, whose weight (it�being made fast to his Collar) pull'd
+_Villenoys_ after it, and both the live and the dead Man falling into
+the River, which, being rapid at the Bridge, soon drown'd him,
+especially when so great a weight hung to his Neck; so that he dy'd,
+without considering what was the occasion of his Fate.
+
+_Isabella_ remain'd the most part of the Night sitting in her Chamber,
+without going to Bed, to see what would become of her Damnable Design;
+but when it was towards Morning, and she heard no News, she put herself
+into Bed, but not to find Repose or Rest there, for that she thought
+impossible, after so great a Barbarity as she had committed; No, (said
+she) it is but just I should for ever wake, who have, in one fatal
+Night, destroy'd two such Innocents. Oh! what Fate, what Destiny, is
+mine? Under what cursed Planet was I born, that Heaven it self could not
+divert my Ruine? It was not many Hours since I thought my self the most
+happy and blest of Women, and now am fallen to the Misery of one of the
+worst Fiends of Hell.
+
+Such were her Thoughts, and such her Cryes, till the Light brought on
+new Matter for Grief; for, about Ten of the Clock, News was brought,
+that Two Men were found dead in the River, and that they were carry'd to
+the Town-Hall, to lye there, till they were own'd: Within an hour after,
+News was brought in, that one of these Unhappy Men was _Villenoys_; his
+_Valet_, who, all this while, imagin'd him in Bed with his Lady, ran to
+the Hall, to undeceive the People, for he knew, if his Lord were gone
+out, he should have been call'd to Dress him; but finding it, as 'twas
+reported, he fell a weeping, and wringing his Hands, in a most miserable
+manner, he ran home with the News; where, knocking at his Lady's Chamber
+Door, and finding it fast lock'd, he almost hop'd again, he was
+deceiv'd; but _Isabella_ rising, and opening the Door, _Maria_ first
+enter'd weeping, with the News, and then brought the _Valet_, to testify
+the fatal Truth of it. _Isabella_, tho' it were nothing but what she
+expected to hear, almost swounded in her Chair; nor did she feign it,
+but felt really all the Pangs of Killing Grief; and was so alter'd with
+her Night's Watching and Grieving, that this new Sorrow look'd very
+Natural in her. When she was recover'd, she asked a thousand Questions
+about him, and question'd the Possibility of it; for (said she) he went
+out this Morning early from me, and had no signs, in his Face, of any
+Grief or Discontent. Alas! (said the _Valet_) Madam, he is not his own
+Murderer, some one has done it in Revenge; and then told her, how he was
+found fasten'd to a Sack, with a dead strange Man ty'd up within it; and
+every body concludes, that they were both first murder'd, and then drawn
+to the River, and thrown both in. At the Relation of this Strange Man,
+she seem'd more amaz'd than before, and commanding the _Valet_ to go to
+the Hall, and to take Order about the Coroner's sitting on the Body of
+_Villenoys_, and then to have it brought home: She called _Maria_ to
+her, and, after bidding her shut the Door, she cry'd, Ah, _Maria_! I
+will tell thee what my Heart imagins; but first, (said she) run to the
+Chamber of the Stranger, and see, if he be still in Bed, which I fear he
+is not; she did so, and brought word, he was gone; then (said she) my
+Forebodings are true. When I was in Bed last night, with _Villenoys_
+(and at that word, she sigh'd as if her Heart-Strings had broken) I�told
+him, I�had lodg'd a Stranger in my House, who was by, when my first Lord
+and Husband fell in Battel; and that, after the Fight, finding him yet
+alive, he spoke to him, and gave him that Ring you brought me last
+Night; and conjur'd him, if ever his Fortune should bring him to
+_Flanders_, to see me, and give me that Ring, and tell me--(with that,
+she wept, and could scarce speak) a�thousand tender and endearing
+things, and then dy'd in his Arms. For my dear _Henault's_ sake (said
+she) I�us'd him nobly, and dismiss'd you that Night, because I was
+asham'd to have any Witness of the Griefs I paid his Memory: All this I
+told to _Villenoys_ whom I found disorder'd; and, after a sleepless
+Night, I�fancy he got up, and took this poor Man, and has occasion'd his
+Death: At that, she wept anew, and _Maria_, to whom, all that her
+Mistress said, was Gospel, verily believ'd it so, without examining
+Reason; and _Isabella_ conjuring her, since none of the House knew of
+the old Man's being there, (for Old he appear'd to�be) that she would
+let it for ever be a Secret, and, to this she bound her by an Oath; so
+that none knowing _Henault_, altho' his Body was expos'd there for three
+Days to Publick View: When the Coroner had Set on the Bodies, he found,
+they had been first Murder'd some way or other, and then afterwards
+tack'd together, and thrown into the River, they brought the Body of
+_Villenoys_ home to his House, where, it being laid on a Table, all the
+House infinitely bewail'd it; and _Isabella_ did nothing but swound
+away, almost as fast as she recover'd Life; however, she would, to
+compleat her Misery, be led to see this dreadful Victim of her Cruelty,
+and, coming near the Table, the Body, whose Eyes were before close shut,
+now open'd themselves wide, and fix'd them upon _Isabella_, who, giving
+a great Schreek, fell down in a swound, and the Eyes clos'd again; they
+had much ado to bring her to Life, but, at last, they did so, and led
+her back to her Bed, where she remain'd a good while. Different Opinions
+and Discourses were made, concerning the opening of the Eyes of the Dead
+Man, and viewing _Isabella_; but she was a Woman of so admirable a Life
+and Conversation, of so undoubted a Piety and Sanctity of Living, that
+not the least Conjecture could be made, of her having a hand in it,
+besides the improbability of it; yet the whole thing was a Mystery,
+which, they thought, they ought to look into: But a few Days after, the
+Body of _Villenoys_ being interr'd in a most magnificent manner, and, by
+Will all he had, was long since setled on _Isabella_, the World, instead
+of Suspecting her, Ador'd her the more, and every Body of Quality was
+already hoping to be next, tho' the fair Mourner still kept her Bed, and
+Languish'd daily.
+
+It happen'd, not long after this, there came to the Town a _French_
+Gentleman, who was taken at the Siege of _Candia_, and was Fellow-Slave
+with _Henault_, for seven Years, in _Turky_, and who had escap'd with
+_Henault_, and came as far as _Liege_ with him, where, having some
+Business and Acquaintance with a Merchant, he stay'd some time; but when
+he parted with _Henault_, he ask'd him, Where he should find him in
+_Flanders_? _Henault_ gave him a Note, with his Name, and Place of
+Abode, if his Wife were alive; if not, to enquire at his Sister's, or
+his Father's. This _French_ Man came at last, to the very House of
+_Isabella_, enquiring for this Man, and receiv'd a strange Answer, and
+was laugh'd at; He found, that was the House, and that the Lady; and
+enquiring about the Town, and speaking of _Henault's_ Return, describing
+the Man, it was quickly discover'd, to be the same that was in the Sack:
+He had his Friend taken up (for he was buried) and found him the same,
+and, causing a _Barber_ to Trim him, when his bushy Beard was off,
+a�great many People remember'd him; and the _French_ Man affirming, he
+went to his own Home, all _Isabella's_ Family, and her self, were cited
+before the Magistrate of Justice, where, as soon as she was accus'd, she
+confess'd the whole Matter of Fact, and, without any Disorder, deliver'd
+her self in the Hands of Justice, as the Murderess of two Husbands (both
+belov'd) in one Night: The whole World stood amaz'd at this; who knew
+her Life a Holy and Charitable Life, and how dearly and well she had
+liv'd with her Husbands, and every one bewail'd her Misfortune, and she
+alone was the only Person, that was not afflicted for her self; she was
+Try'd, and Condemn'd to lose her Head; which Sentence, she joyfully
+receiv'd, and said, Heaven, and her Judges, were too Merciful to her,
+and that her Sins had deserv'd much more.
+
+While she was in Prison, she was always at Prayers, and very Chearful
+and Easie, distributing all she had amongst, and for the Use of, the
+Poor of the Town, especially to the Poor Widows; exhorting daily, the
+Young, and the Fair, that came perpetually to visit her, never to break
+a Vow: for that was first the Ruine of her, and she never since
+prosper'd, do whatever other good Deeds she could. When the day of
+Execution came, she appear'd on the Scaffold all in Mourning, but with a
+Meen so very Majestick and Charming, and a Face so surprizing Fair,
+where no Languishment or Fear appear'd, but all Chearful as a Bride,
+that she set all Hearts a flaming, even in that mortifying Minute of
+Preparation for Death: She made a Speech of half an Hour long, so
+Eloquent, so admirable a warning to the _Vow-Breakers_, that it was as
+amazing to hear her, as it was to behold her.
+
+After she had done with the help of _Maria_, she put off her Mourning
+Vail, and, without any thing over her Face, she kneel'd down, and the
+Executioner, at one Blow, sever'd her Beautiful Head from her Delicate
+Body, being then in her Seven and Twentieth Year. She was generally
+Lamented, and Honourably Bury'd.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The History of the Nun.
+
+
+p. 262 _The Dutchess of Mazarine._ Hortense Mancini, niece of the great
+Cardinal, was born at Rome in 1646. Her beauty and wit were such that
+Charles II (whilst in exile) and other princes of royal blood sought her
+hand. She married, however, 28 February, 1661, Armand-Charles de la
+Meilleraye, said to be 'the richest subject in Europe'. The union was
+unhappy, and in 1666 she demanded a judicial separation. Fearful,
+however, lest this should be refused, she fled from Paris 13 June, 1668,
+and, after several years of wandering, in 1675 came to London at the
+invitation of Charles II, who assigned her a pension. Her gallantries,
+her friendship with Saint-Evremond, her lavish patronage of the fine
+arts and literature are well known. She died at her Chelsea house in the
+summer of 1699. Her end is said to have been hastened by intemperance.
+Evelyn dubs her 'the famous beauty and errant lady.'
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE NUN: or, The Perjur'd Beauty.
+
+A TRUE NOVEL.
+
+
+Don _Henrique_ was a Person of great Birth, of a great Estate, of a
+Bravery equal to either, of a most generous Education, but of more
+Passion than Reason: He was besides of an opener and freer Temper than
+generally his Countrymen are (I�mean, the _Spaniards_) and always
+engag'd in some Love-Intrigue or other.
+
+One Night as he was retreating from one of those Engagements, Don
+_Sebastian_, whose Sister he had abus'd with a Promise of Marriage, set
+upon him at the Corner of a Street, in _Madrid_, and by the Help of
+three of his Friends, design'd to have dispatch'd him on a doubtful
+Embassy to the Almighty Monarch: But he receiv'd their first
+Instructions with better Address than they expected, and dismiss'd his
+Envoy first, killing one of Don _Sebastian's_ Friends. Which so enrag'd
+the injur'd Brother, that his Strength and Resolution seem'd to be
+redoubled, and so animated his two surviving Companions, that
+(doubtless) they had gain'd a dishonourable Victory, had not Don
+_Antonio_ accidentally come in to the Rescue; who after a short Dispute,
+kill'd one of the two who attack'd him only; whilst Don _Henrique_, with
+the greatest Difficulty, defended his Life, for some Moments, against
+_Sebastian_, whose Rage depriv'd him of Strength, and gave his Adversary
+the unwish'd Advantage of his seeming Death, tho' not without
+bequeathing some bloody Legacies to Don _Henrique_. _Antonio_ had
+receiv'd but one slight Wound in the left Arm, and his surviving
+Antagonist none; who however thought it not adviseable to begin a fresh
+Dispute against two, of whose Courage he had but too fatal a Proof, tho'
+one of 'em was sufficiently disabled. The Conquerors, on the other Side,
+politickly retreated, and quitting the Field to the Conquer'd, left the
+Living to bury the Dead, if he could, or thought convenient.
+
+As they were marching off, Don _Antonio_, who all this while knew not
+whose Life he had so happily preserv'd, told his Companion in Arms, that
+he thought it indispensibly necessary that he should quarter with him
+that Night, for his further Preservation. To which he prudently
+consented, and went, with no little Uneasiness, to his Lodgings; where
+he surpriz'd _Antonio_ with the Sight of his dearest Friend. For they
+had certainly the nearest Sympathy in all their Thoughts, that ever made
+two brave Men unhappy: And, undoubtedly, nothing but Death, or more
+fatal Love, could have divided them. However, at present, they were
+united and secure.
+
+In the mean time, Don _Sebastian's_ Friend was just going to call Help
+to carry off the Bodies, as the ---- came by; who seeing three Men lie
+dead, seiz'd the fourth; who as he was about to justify himself, by
+discovering one of the Authors of so much Blood-shed, was interrupted by
+a Groan from his supposed dead Friend Don _Sebastian_; whom, after a
+brief Account of some Part of the Matter, and the Knowledge of his
+Quality, they took up, and carried to his House; where, within a few
+Days, he was recovered past the Fear of Death. All this While _Henrique_
+and _Antonio_ durst not appear, so much as by Night; nor could be found,
+tho' diligent and daily Search was made after the first; but upon Don
+_Sebastian's_ Recovery, the Search ceasing, they took the Advantage of
+the Night, and, in Disguise, retreated to _Seville_. 'Twas there they
+thought themselves most secure, where indeed they were in the greatest
+Danger; for tho' (haply) they might there have escap'd the murderous
+Attempt of Don _Sebastian_, and his Friends, yet they could not there
+avoid the malicious Influence of their Stars.
+
+This City gave Birth to _Antonio_, and to the Cause of his greatest
+Misfortunes, as well as of his Death. Dona _Ardelia_ was born there,
+a�Miracle of Beauty and Falshood. 'Twas more than a Year since Don
+_Antonio_ had first seen and loved her. For 'twas impossible any Man
+should do one without the other. He had had the unkind Opportunity of
+speaking and conveying a Billet to her at Church; and to his greater
+Misfortune, the next Time he found her there, he met with too Kind a
+Return both from her Eyes and from her Hand, which privately slipt a
+Paper into his; in which he found abundantly more than he expected,
+directing him in that, how he should proceed, in order to carry her off
+from her Father with the least Danger he could look for in such an
+Attempt; since it would have been vain and fruitless to have asked her
+of her Father, because their Families had been at Enmity for several
+Years; tho' _Antonio_ was as well descended as she, and had as ample a
+Fortune; nor was his Person, according to his Sex, any way inferior to
+her's; and certainly, the Beauties of his Mind were more excellent,
+especially if it be an Excellence to be constant.
+
+He had made several Attempts to take Possession of her; but all prov'd
+ineffectual; however, he had the good Fortune not to be known, tho' once
+or twice he narrowly escap'd with Life, bearing off his Wounds with
+Difficulty.--(Alas, that the Wounds of Love should cause those of Hate!)
+Upon which she was strictly confin'd to one Room, whose only Window was
+towards the Garden, and that too was grated with Iron; and, once a
+Month, when she went to Church, she was constantly and carefully
+attended by her Father, and a Mother-in-Law, worse than a _Duegna_.
+Under this miserable Confinement _Antonio_ understood she still
+continued, at his Return to _Seville_, with Don _Henrique_, whom he
+acquainted with his invincible Passion for her; lamenting the Severity
+of her present Circumstances, that admitted of no Prospect of Relief;
+which caus'd a generous Concern in Don _Henrique_, both for the
+Sufferings of his Friend, and of the Lady. He proposed several Ways to
+Don _Antonio_, for the Release of the fair Prisoner; but none of them
+was thought practicable, or at least likely to succeed. But _Antonio_,
+who (you may believe) was then more nearly engag'd, bethought himself of
+an Expedient that would undoubtedly reward their Endeavours. 'Twas, that
+Don _Henrique_, who was very well acquainted with _Ardelia's_ Father,
+should make him a Visit, with Pretence of begging his Consent and
+Admission to make his Addresses to his Daughter; which, in all
+Probability, he could not refuse to Don _Henrique's_ Quality and Estate;
+and then this Freedom of Access to her would give him the Opportunity of
+delivering the Lady to his Friend. This was thought so reasonable, that
+the very next Day it was put in Practice; and with so good Success, that
+Don _Henrique_ was received by the Father of _Ardelia_ with the greatest
+and most respectful Ceremony imaginable: And when he made the Proposal
+to him of marrying his Daughter, it was embraced with a visible
+Satisfaction and Joy in the Air of his Face. This their first
+Conversation ended with all imaginable Content on both Sides; Don
+_Henrique_ being invited by the Father to Dinner the next Day, when Dona
+_Ardelia_ was to be present; who, at that Time, was said to be
+indispos'd, (as�'tis very probable she was, with so close an
+Imprisonment.) _Henrique_ returned to _Antonio_, and made him happy with
+the Account of his Reception; which could not but have terminated in the
+perfect Felicity of _Antonio_, had his Fate been just to the Merits of
+his Love. The Day and Hour came which brought _Henrique_, with a private
+Commission from his Friend, to _Ardelia_. He saw her;--(ah!�would he had
+only seen her veil'd!) and, with the first Opportunity, gave her the
+Letter, which held so much Love, and so much Truth, as ought to have
+preserved him in the Empire of her Heart. It contained, besides,
+a�Discovery of his whole Design upon her Father, for the compleating of
+their Happiness; which nothing then could obstruct but her self. But
+_Henrique_ had seen her; he had gaz'd, and swallowed all her Beauties at
+his Eyes. How greedily his Soul drank the strong Poison in! But yet his
+Honour and his Friendship were strong as ever, and bravely fought
+against the Usurper Love, and got a noble Victory; at least he thought
+and wish'd so. With this, and a short Answer to his Letter, _Henrique_
+return'd to the longing _Antonio_; who, receiving the Paper with the
+greatest Devotion, and kissing it with the greatest Zeal, open'd and
+read these Words to himself:
+
+  _Don +Antonio+,_
+
+  _You have, at last, made Use of the best and only Expedient for my
+  Enlargement; for which I thank you, since I know it is purely the
+  Effect of your Love. Your Agent has a mighty Influence on my Father:
+  And you may assure yourself, that as you have advis'd and desir'd
+  me, he shall have no less on me, who�am_
+
+  Your's entirely,
+    And only your's,
+      _ARDELIA_.
+
+Having respectfully and tenderly kiss'd the Name, he could not chuse but
+shew the _Billet_ to his Friend; who reading that Part of it which
+concern'd himself, started and blush'd: Which _Antonio_ observing, was
+curious to know the Cause of it. _Henrique_ told him, That he was
+surpriz'd to find her express so little Love, after so long an Absence.
+To which his Friend reply'd for her, That, doubtless, she had not Time
+enough to attempt so great a Matter as a perfect Account of her Love;
+and added, that it was Confirmation enough to him of its Continuance,
+since she subscrib'd her self his entirely, and only his.--How blind is
+Love! Don _Henrique_ knew how to make it bear another Meaning; which,
+however, he had the Discretion to conceal. _Antonio_, who was as real in
+his Friendship, as constant in his Love, ask'd him what he thought of
+her Beauty? To which the other answer'd, that he thought it irresistable
+to any, but to a Soul preposses'd, and nobly fortify'd with a perfect
+Friendship:--Such as is thine, my _Henrique_, (added _Antonio_;) yet as
+sincere and perfect as that is, I�know you must, nay, I�know you do love
+her. As I ought to do, (reply'd _Henrique_.) Yes, yes, (return'd his
+Friend) it must be so; otherwise the Sympathy which unites our Souls
+would be wanting, and consequently our Friendship were in a State of
+Imperfection. How industriously you would argue me into a Crime, that
+would tear and destroy the Foundation of the strongest Ties of Truth and
+Honour! (said _Henrique_.) But (he�continu'd) I�hope within a few Days,
+to put it out of my Power to be guilty of so great a Sacrilege. I�can't
+determine (said _Antonio_) if I knew that you lov'd one another, whether
+I could easier part with my Friend, or my Mistress. Tho' what you say,
+is highly generous, (reply'd _Henrique_) yet give me Leave to urge, that
+it looks like a Trial of Friendship, and argues you inclinable to
+Jealousy: But, pardon me, I�know it to be sincerely meant by you; and
+must therefore own, that 'tis the best, because 'tis the noblest Way of
+securing both your Friend and Mistress. I�need not make use of any Arts
+to secure me of either, (reply'd _Antonio_) but expect to enjoy 'em both
+in a little Time.
+
+_Henrique_, who was a little uneasy with a Discourse of this Nature,
+diverted it, by reflecting on what had pass'd at _Madrid_, between them
+two and Don _Sebastian_ and his Friends; which caus'd _Antonio_ to
+bethink himself of the Danger to which he expos'd his Friend, by
+appearing daily, tho' in Disguise: For, doubtless, Don _Sebastian_ would
+pursue his Revenge to the utmost Extremity. These Thoughts put him upon
+desiring his Friend, for his own Sake, to hasten the Performance of his
+Attempt; and accordingly, each Day Don _Henrique_ brought _Antonio_
+nearer the Hopes of Happiness, while he himself was hourly sinking into
+the lowest State of Misery. The last Night before the Day in which
+_Antonio_ expected to be bless'd in her Love, Don _Henrique_ had a long
+and fatal Conference with her about her Liberty. Being then with her
+alone in an Arbour of the Garden, which Privilege he had had for some
+Days; after a long Silence, and observing Don _Henrique_ in much
+Disorder, by the Motion of his Eyes, which were sometimes stedfastly
+fix'd on the Ground, then lifted up to her or Heaven, (for he could see
+nothing more beautiful on Earth) she made use of the Privilege of her
+Sex, and began the Discourse first, to this Effect:--Has any Thing
+happened, Sir, since our Retreat hither, to occasion that Disorder which
+is but too visible in your Face, and too dreadful in your continued
+Silence? Speak, I�beseech you, Sir, and let me know if I have any Way
+unhappily contributed to it! No, Madam, (replyed�he) my Friendship is
+now likely to be the only Cause of my greatest Misery; for To-morrow I
+must be guilty of an unpardonable Crime, in betraying the generous
+Confidence which your noble Father has plac'd in me: To-morrow (added
+he, with a piteous Sigh) I�must deliver you into the Hands of one whom
+your Father hates even to Death, instead of doing myself the Honour of
+becoming his Son-in-law within a few Days more.--But--I will consider
+and remind myself, that I give you into the Hands of my Friend; of my
+Friend, that loves you better than his Life, which he has often expos'd
+for your Sake; and what is more than all, to my Friend, whom you love
+more than any Consideration on Earth.--And must this be done? (she
+ask'd.) Is it inevitable as Fate?--Fix'd as the Laws of Nature, Madam,
+(reply'd�he) don't you find the Necessity of it, _Ardelia_? (continued
+he, by Way of Question:) Does not your Love require it? Think, you are
+going to your dear _Antonio_, who alone can merit you, and whom only you
+can love. Were your last Words true (returned she) I�should yet be
+unhappy in the Displeasure of a dear and tender Father, and infinitely
+more, in being the Cause of your Infidelity to him: No, Don _Henrique_
+(continued she) I�could with greater Satisfaction return to my miserable
+Confinement, than by any Means disturb the Peace of your Mind, or
+occasion one Moment's Interruption of your Quiet.--Would to Heaven you
+did not, (sigh'd he to himself.) Then addressing his Words more
+distinctly to her, cry'd he, Ah, cruel! ah, unjust _Ardelia_! these
+Words belong to none but _Antonio_; why then would you endeavour to
+persuade me, that I do, or even can merit the Tenderness of such an
+Expression?--Have a Care! (pursued�he) have a Care, _Ardelia_! your
+outward Beauties are too powerful to be resisted; even your Frowns have
+such a Sweetness that they attract the very Soul that is not strongly
+prepossessed with the noblest Friendship, and the highest Principles of
+Honour: Why then, alas! did you add such sweet and Charming Accents?
+Why--ah, Don _Henrique_! (she interrupted) why did you appear to me so
+charming in your Person, so great in your Friendship, and so illustrious
+in your Reputation? Why did my Father, ever since your first Visit,
+continually fill my Ears and Thoughts with noble Characters and glorious
+Ideas, which yet but imperfectly and faintly represent the inimitable
+Original!--But--(what is most severe and cruel) why, Don _Henrique_, why
+will you defeat my Father in his Ambition of your Alliance, and me of
+those glorious Hopes with which you had bless'd my Soul, by casting me
+away from you to _Antonio_!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting) what said you,
+Madam? What did _Ardelia_ say? That I had bless'd your Soul with Hopes!
+That I would cast you away to _Antonio_!--Can they who safely arrive in
+their wish'd-for Port, be said to be shipwreck'd? Or, can an abject
+indigent Wretch make a King?--These are more than Riddles, Madam; and I
+must not think to expound 'em. No, (said she) let it alone, Don
+_Henrique_; I'll ease you of that Trouble, and tell you plainly that I
+love you. Ah! (cry'd�he) now all my Fears are come upon me!--How! (ask'd
+she) were you afraid I should love you? Is my Love so dreadful then?
+Yes, when misplac'd (reply'd�he;) but 'twas your Falshood that I fear'd:
+Your Love was what I would have sought with the utmost Hazard of my
+Life, nay, even of my future Happiness, I�fear, had you not been
+engag'd: strongly oblig'd to love elsewhere, both by your own Choice and
+Vows, as well as by his dangerous Services, and matchless Constancy. For
+which (said she) I�do not hate him, tho' his Father kill'd my Uncle:
+Nay, perhaps (continu'd she) I�have a Friendship for him, but no more.
+No more, said you, Madam? (cry'd�he;)--but tell me, did you never love
+him? Indeed, I�did, (reply'd she;) but the Sight of you has better
+instructed me, both in my Duty to my Father, and in causing my Passion
+for you, without whom I shall be eternally miserable. Ah, then pursue
+your honourable Proposal, and make my Father happy in my Marriage! It
+must not be (return'd Don _Henrique_) my Honour, my Friendship forbids
+it. No (she return'd) your Honour requires it; and if your Friendship
+opposes your Honour, it can have no sure and solid Foundation. Female
+Sophistry! (cry'd _Henrique_;) but you need no Art nor Artifice,
+_Ardelia_, to make me love you: Love you! (pursu'd�he:) By that bright
+Sun, the Light and Heat of all the World, you are my only Light and
+Heat--Oh, Friendship! Sacred Friendship, now assist me!--[Here for a
+Time he paus'd, and then afresh proceeded thus,]--You told me, or my
+Ears deceiv'd me, that you lov'd me, _Ardelia_. I did, she reply'd; and
+that I do love you, is as true as that I told you so. 'Tis well;--But
+would it were not so! Did ever Man receive a Blessing thus?--Why,
+I�could wish I did not love you, _Ardelia_! But that were impossible--At
+least unjust, (interrupted she.) Well then (he�went�on) to shew you that
+I do sincerely consult your particular Happiness, without any regard to
+my own, To-morrow I will give you to Don _Antonio_; and as a Proof of
+your Love to me, I�expect your ready Consent to it. To let you see, Don
+_Henrique_, how perfectly and tenderly I love you, I�will be sacrificed
+To-morrow to Don _Antonio_, and to your Quiet. Oh, strongest, dearest
+Obligation!--cry'd _Henrique_: To-morrow then, as I have told your
+Father, I�am to bring you to see the dearest Friend I have on Earth, who
+dares not appear within this City for some unhappy Reasons, and
+therefore cannot be present at our Nuptials; for which Cause, I�could
+not but think it my Duty to one so nearly related to my Soul, to make
+him happy in the Sight of my beautiful Choice, e'er yet she be my Bride.
+I�hope (said she) my loving Obedience may merit your Compassion; and
+that at last, e'er the Fire is lighted that must consume the Offering,
+I�mean the Marriage-Tapers (alluding to the old _Roman_ Ceremony) that
+you or some other pitying Angel, will snatch me from the Altar. Ah, no
+more, _Ardelia_! say no more (cry'd�he) we must be cruel, to be just to
+our selves. [Here their Discourse ended, and they walked into the House,
+where they found the good old Gentleman and his Lady, with whom he
+stay'd till about an Hour after Supper, when he returned to his Friend
+with joyful News, but a sorrowful Heart.]
+
+_Antonio_ was all Rapture with the Thoughts of the approaching Day;
+which tho' it brought Don _Henrique_ and his dear _Ardelia_ to him,
+about five o'Clock in the Evening, yet at the same Time brought his last
+and greatest Misfortune. He saw her then at a She Relation's of his,
+above three Miles from _Seville_, which was the Place assigned for their
+fatal Interview. He saw her, I�say; but ah! how strange! how altered
+from the dear, kind _Ardelia_ she was when last he left her! 'Tis true,
+he flew to her with Arms expanded, and with so swift and eager a Motion,
+that she could not avoid, nor get loose from his Embrace, till he had
+kissed, and sighed, and dropt some Tears, which all the Strength of his
+Mind could not restrain; whether they were the Effects of Joy, or
+whether (which rather may be feared) they were the Heat-drops which
+preceded and threaten'd the Thunder and Tempest that should fall on his
+Head, I�cannot positively say; yet all this she was then forced to
+endure, e'er she had Liberty to speak, or indeed to breathe. But as soon
+as she had freed herself from the loving Circle that should have been
+the dear and lov'd Confinement or Centre of a Faithful Heart, she began
+to dart whole Showers of Tortures on him from her Eyes; which that Mouth
+that he had just before so tenderly and sacredly kiss'd, seconded with
+whole Volleys of Deaths crammed in every Sentence, pointed with the
+keenest Affliction that ever pierc'd a Soul. _Antonio_, (she began) you
+have treated me now as if you were never like to see me more: and would
+to Heaven you were not!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting and staring wildly on
+her;) What said you, Madam? What said you, my _Ardelia_? If you like the
+Repetition, take it? (reply'd she, unmoved) _Would to Heaven you were
+never like to see me more!_ Good! very Good! (cry'd he, with a Sigh that
+threw him trembling into a Chair behind him, and gave her the
+Opportunity of proceeding thus:)--Yet, _Antonio_, I must not have my
+Wish; I�must continue with you, not out of Choice, but by Command, by
+the strictest and severest Obligation that ever bound Humanity; Don
+_Henrique_, your Friend, commands it; Don _Henrique_, the dearest Object
+of my Soul, enjoins it; Don _Henrique_, whose only Aversion I am, will
+have it so. Oh, do not wrong me, Madam! (cry'd Don _Henrique_.) Lead me,
+lead me a little more by the Light of your Discourse, I�beseech you
+(said Don _Antonio_) that I may see your Meaning! for hitherto 'tis
+Darkness all to me. Attend therefore with your best Faculties (pursu'd
+_Ardelia_) and know, That I do most sincerely and most passionately love
+Don _Henrique_; and as a Proof of my Love to him, I�have this Day
+consented to be delivered up to you by him; not for your Sake in the
+least, _Antonio_, but purely to sacrifice all the Quiet of my Life to
+his Satisfaction. And now, Sir (continued she, addressing her self to
+Don _Henrique_) now, Sir, if you can be so cruel, execute your own most
+dreadful Decree, and join our Hands, though our Hearts never can meet.
+All this to try me! It's too much, _Ardelia_--(said _Antonio_:) And then
+turning to Don _Henrique_, he went on, Speak thou! if yet thou art not
+Apostate to our Friendship! Yet speak, however! Speak, though the Devil
+has been tampering with thee too! Thou art a Man, a�Man of Honour once.
+And when I forfeit my just Title to that (interrupted Don _Henrique_)
+may I be made most miserable!--May I lose the Blessings of thy
+Friendship!--May I lose thee!--Say on then, _Henrique_! (cry'd
+_Antonio_:) And I charge thee, by all the sacred Ties of Friendship,
+say, Is this a Trial of me? Is't Illusion, Sport, or shameful murderous
+Truth?--Oh, my Soul burns within me, and I can bear no longer!--Tell!
+Speak! Say on!--[Here, with folded Arms, and Eyes fixed stedfastly on
+_Henrique_, he stood like a Statue, without Motion; unless sometimes,
+when his swelling Heart raised his over-charged Breast.] After a little
+Pause, and a hearty Sigh or two, _Henrique_ began;--Oh, _Antonio_! Oh my
+Friend! prepare thy self to hear yet more dreadful Accents!--I am
+(pursu'd�he) unhappily the greatest and most innocent Criminal that e'er
+till now offended:--I love her, _Antonio_,--I love _Ardelia_ with a
+Passion strong and violent as thine!--Oh! summon all that us'd to be
+more than Man about thee, to suffer to the End of my Discourse, which
+nothing but a Resolution like thine can bear! I�know it by myself.--Tho'
+there be Wounds, Horror, and Death in each Syllable (interrupted
+_Antonio_) yet prithee now go on, but with all Haste. I�will, (returned
+Don _Henrique_) tho' I�feel my own Words have the same cruel Effects on
+me. I say, again, my Soul loves _Ardelia_: And how can it be otherwise?
+Have we not both the self-same Appetites, the same Disgusts? How then
+could I avoid my Destiny, that has decreed that I should love and hate
+just as you do? Oh, hard Necessity! that obliged you to use me in the
+Recovery of this Lady! Alas, can you think that any Man of Sense or
+Passion could have seen, and not have lov'd her! Then how should I,
+whose Thoughts are Unisons to yours, evade those Charms that had
+prevail'd on you?--And now, to let you know, 'tis no Illusion, no Sport,
+but serious and amazing woeful Truth, _Ardelia_ best can tell you whom
+she loves. What I have already said, is true, by Heaven (cry'd she) 'tis
+you, Don _Henrique_, whom I only love, and who alone can give me
+Happiness: Ah, would you would!--With you, _Antonio_, I must remain
+unhappy, wretched, cursed: Thou art my Hell; Don _Henrique_ is my
+Heaven. And thou art mine, (returned�he) which here I part with to my
+dearest Friend. Then taking her Hand, Pardon me, _Antonio_, (pursued�he)
+that I thus take my last Farewel of all the Tastes of Bliss from your
+_Ardelia_, at this Moment. [At which Words he kiss'd her Hand, and gave
+it to Don _Antonio_; who received it, and gently pressed it close to his
+Heart, as if he would have her feel the Disorders she had caus'd there.]
+Be happy, _Antonio_, (cry'd _Henrique_:) Be very tender of her;
+To-morrow early I shall hope to see thee.--_Ardelia_ (pursued�he) All
+Happiness and Joy surround thee! May'st thou ne'er want those Blessings
+thou can'st give _Antonio_!--Farewel to both! (added he, going out.) Ah
+(cry'd she) Farewel to all Joys, Blessings, Happiness, if you forsake
+me.--Yet do not go!--Ah, cruel! (continu'd she, seeing him quit the
+Room) but you shall take my Soul with you. Here she swooned away in Don
+_Antonio's_ Arms; who, though he was happy that he had her fast there,
+yet was obliged to call in his Cousin, and _Ardelia's_ Attendants, e'er
+she could be perfectly recovered. In the mean while Don _Henrique_ had
+not the Power to go out of Sight of the House, but wandred to and fro
+about it, distracted in his Soul; and not being able longer to refrain
+her Sight, her last Words still resounding in his Ears, he came again
+into the Room where he left her with Don _Antonio_, just as she revived,
+and called him, exclaiming on his Cruelty, in leaving her so soon. But
+when, turning her Eyes towards the Door, she saw him; Oh! with what
+eager Haste she flew to him! then clasped him round the Waist, obliging
+him, with all the tender Expressions that the Soul of a Lover, and a
+Woman's too, is capable of uttering, not to leave her in the Possession
+of Don _Antonio_. This so amaz'd her slighted Lover, that he knew not,
+at first, how to proceed in this tormenting Scene; but at last,
+summoning all his wonted Resolution, and Strength of Mind, he told her,
+He would put her out of his Power, if she would consent to retreat for
+some few Hours to a Nunnery that was not above half a Mile distant from
+thence, till he had discoursed his Friend, Don _Henrique_ something more
+particularly than hitherto, about this Matter: To which she readily
+agreed, upon the Promise that Don _Henrique_ made her, of seeing her
+with the first Opportunity. They waited on her then to the Convent,
+where she was kindly and respectfully received by the Lady Abbess; but
+it was not long before her Grief renewing with greater Violence, and
+more afflicting Circumstances, had obliged them to stay with her till it
+was almost dark, when they once more begged the Liberty of an Hour's
+Absence; and the better to palliate their Design, _Henrique_ told her,
+that he would make use of her Father Don _Richardo's_ Coach, in which
+they came to Don _Antonio's_, for so small a Time: which they did,
+leaving only _Eleonora_ her Attendant with her, with out whom she had
+been at a Loss, among so many fair Strangers; Strangers, I�mean, to her
+unhappy Circumstances: Whilst they were carry'd near a Mile farther,
+where, just as 'twas dark, they lighted from the Coach, Don _Henrique_,
+ordering the Servants not to stir thence till their Return from their
+private Walk, which was about a Furlong, in a Field that belong'd to the
+Convent. Here Don _Antonio_ told Don _Henrique_, That he had not acted
+honourably; That he had betray'd him, and robb'd him at once both of a
+Friend and Mistress. To which t'other returned, That he understood his
+Meaning, when he proposed a particular Discourse about this Affair,
+which he now perceived must end in Blood: But you may remind your self
+(continued�he) that I have kept my Promise in delivering her to you.
+Yes, (cry'd _Antonio_) after you had practis'd foully and basely on her.
+Not at all! (returned _Henrique_) It was her Fate that brought this
+Mischief on her; for I urged the Shame and Scandal of Inconstancy, but
+all in vain, to her. But don't you love her, _Henrique_? (the other
+ask'd.) Too well, and cannot live without her, though I fear I may feel
+the cursed Effects of the same Inconstancy: However, I�had quitted her
+all to you, but you see how she resents it. And you shall see, Sir,
+(cry'd _Antonio_, drawing his Sword in a Rage) how I resent it. Here,
+without more Words, they fell to Action; to bloody Action. (Ah!�how
+wretched are our Sex, in being the unhappy Occasion of so many fatal
+Mischiefs, even between the dearest Friends!) They fought on each Side
+with the greatest Animosity of Rivals, forgetting all the sacred Bonds
+of their former Friendship; till Don _Antonio_ fell, and said, dying,
+'Forgive me, _Henrique_! I was to blame; I�could not live without
+her:--I fear she will betray thy Life, which haste and preserve, for my
+sake--Let me not die all at once!--Heaven pardon both of us!--Farewel!
+Oh, haste! Farewel! (_returned Don +Henrique+_) Farewel, thou bravest,
+truest Friend! Farewel thou noblest Part of me!--And Farewel all the
+Quiet of my Soul.' Then stooping, he kissed his Cheek; but, rising, he
+found he must retire in time, or else must perish through Loss of Blood,
+for he had received two or three dangerous Wounds, besides others of
+less Consequence: Wherefore he made all the convenient Haste he could to
+the Coach, into which, by the Help of the Footmen, he got, and order'd
+'em to drive him directly to Don _Richardo's_ with all imaginable Speed;
+where he arriv'd in little more than half an Hour's Time, and was
+received by _Ardelia's_ Father with the greatest Confusion and Amazement
+that is expressible, seeing him return'd without his Daughter, and so
+desperately wounded. Before he thought it convenient to ask him any
+Question more than to enquire of his Daughter's Safety, to which he
+receiv'd a short but satisfactory Answer, Don _Richardo_ sent for an
+eminent and able Surgeon, who probed and dress'd Don _Henrique's_
+Wounds, who was immediately put to Bed; not without some Despondency of
+his Recovery; but (thanks to his kind Stars, and kinder Constitution!)
+he rested pretty well for some Hours that Night, and early in the
+Morning, _Ardelia's_ Father, who had scarce taken any Rest all that
+Night, came to visit him, as soon as he understood from the Servants who
+watched with him, that he was in a Condition to suffer a short
+Discourse; which, you may be sure, was to learn the Circumstances of the
+past Night's Adventure; of which Don _Henrique_ gave him a perfect and
+pleasant Account, since he heard that Don _Antonio_, his mortal Enemy,
+was killed; the Assurance of whose Death was the more delightful to him,
+since, by this Relation, he found that _Antonio_ was the Man, whom his
+Care of his Daughter had so often frustrated. Don _Henrique_ had hardly
+made an End of his Narration, e'er a Servant came hastily to give
+_Richardo_ Notice, that the Officers were come to search for his
+Son-in-Law that should have been; whom the Old Gentleman's wise
+Precaution had secured in a Room so unsuspected, that they might as
+reasonably have imagined the entire Walls of his House had a Door made
+of Stones, as that there should have been one to that close Apartment:
+He went therefore boldly to the Officers, and gave them all the Keys of
+his House, with free Liberty to examine every Room and Chamber; which
+they did, but to no Purpose; and Don _Henrique_ lay there undiscover'd,
+till his Cure was perfected.
+
+In the mean time _Ardelia_, who that fatal Night but too rightly guess'd
+that the Death of one or both her Lovers was the Cause that they did not
+return to their Promise, the next Day fell into a high Fever, in which
+her Father found her soon after he had clear'd himself of those who come
+to search for a Lover. The Assurance which her Father gave her of
+_Henrique's_ Life, seemed a little to revive her; but the Severity of
+_Antonio's_ Fate was no Way obliging to her, since she could not but
+retain the Memory of his Love and Constancy; which added to her
+Afflictions, and heightned her Distemper, insomuch that _Richardo_ was
+constrain'd to leave her under the Care of the good Lady Abbess, and to
+the diligent Attendance of _Eleonora_, not daring to hazard her Life in
+a Removal to his own House. All their Care and Diligence was however
+ineffectual; for she languished even to the least Hope of Recovery, till
+immediately after the first Visit of Don _Henrique_, which was the first
+he made in a Month's Time, and that by Night _incognito_, with her
+Father, her Distemper visibly retreated each Day: Yet when at last she
+enjoy'd a perfect Health of Body, her Mind grew sick, and she plunged
+into a deep Melancholy; which made her entertain a positive Resolution
+of taking the Veil at the End of her Novitiate; which accordingly she
+did, notwithstanding all the Intreaties, Prayers, and Tears both of her
+Father and Lover. But she soon repented her Vow, and often wish'd that
+she might by any Means see and speak to Don _Henrique_, by whose Help
+she promised to her self a Deliverance out of her voluntary
+Imprisonment: Nor were his Wishes wanting to the same Effect, tho' he
+was forced to fly into _Italy_, to avoid the Prosecution of _Antonio's_
+Friends. Thither she pursu'd him; nor could he any way shun her, unless
+he could have left his Heart at a Distance from his Body: Which made him
+take a fatal Resolution of returning to _Seville_ in Disguise, where he
+wander'd about the Convent every Night like a Ghost (for indeed his Soul
+was within, while his inanimate Trunk was without) till at last he found
+Means to convey a Letter to her, which both surprized and delighted her.
+The Messenger that brought it her was one of her Mother-in-Law's Maids,
+whom he had known before, and met accidentally one Night as he was going
+his Rounds, and she coming out from _Ardelia_; with her he prevail'd,
+and with Gold obliged her to Secrecy and Assistance: Which proved so
+successful, that he understood from _Ardelia_ her strong Desire of
+Liberty, and the Continuance of her Passion for him, together with the
+Means and Time most convenient and likely to succeed for her
+Enlargement. The Time was the fourteenth Night following, at twelve
+o'Clock, which just compleated a Month since his Return thither; at
+which Time they both promised themselves the greatest Happiness on
+Earth. But you may observe the Justice of Heaven, in their
+Disappointment.
+
+Don _Sebastian_, who still pursu'd him with a most implacable Hatred,
+had traced him even to _Italy_, and there narrowly missing him, posted
+after him to _Toledo_; so sure and secret was his Intelligence! As soon
+as he arriv'd, he went directly to the Convent where his Sister _Elvira_
+had been one of the Profess'd, ever since Don _Henrique_ had forsaken
+her, and where _Ardelia_ had taken her repented Vow. _Elvira_ had all
+along conceal'd the Occasion of her coming thither from _Ardelia_; and
+tho' she was her only Confident, and knew the whole Story of her
+Misfortunes, and heard the Name of Don _Henrique_ repeated a hundred
+Times a Day, whom still she lov'd most perfectly, yet never gave her
+beautiful Rival any Cause of Suspicion that she lov'd him, either by
+Words or Looks: Nay more, when she understood that Don _Henrique_ came
+to the Convent with _Ardelia_ and _Antonio_, and at other Times with her
+Father; yet she had so great a Command of her self, as to refrain seeing
+him, or to be seen by him; nor ever intended to have spoken or writ to
+him, had not her Brother Don _Sebastian_ put her upon the cruel
+Necessity of doing the last; who coming to visit his Sister (as�I have
+said before) found her with Dona _Ardelia_, whom he never remembred to
+have seen, nor who ever had seen him but twice, and that was about six
+Years before, when she was but ten Years of Age, when she fell
+passionately in Love with him, and continu'd her Passion till about the
+fourteenth Year of her Empire, when unfortunate _Antonio_ first began
+his Court to her. Don _Sebastian_ was really a very desirable Person,
+being at that time very beautiful, his Age not exceeding six and twenty,
+of a sweet Conversation, very brave, but revengeful and irreconcilable
+(like most of his Countrymen) and of an honourable Family. At the Sight
+of him _Ardelia_ felt her former Passion renew; which proceeded and
+continued with such Violence, that it utterly defac'd the Ideas of
+_Antonio_ and _Henrique_. (No�Wonder that she who could resolve to
+forsake her God for Man, should quit one Lover for another.) In short,
+she then only wished that he might love her equally, and then she
+doubted not of contriving the Means of their Happiness betwixt 'em. She
+had her Wish, and more, if possible; for he lov'd her beyond the Thought
+of any other present or future Blessing, and fail'd not to let her know
+it, at the second Interview; when he receiv'd the greatest Pleasure he
+could have wish'd, next to the Joys of a Bridal Bed: For she confessed
+her Love to him, and presently put him upon thinking on the Means of her
+Escape; but not finding his Designs so likely to succeed, as those
+Measures she had sent to Don _Henrique_, she communicates the very same
+to Don _Sebastian_, and agreed with him to make use of them on that very
+Night, wherein she had obliged Don _Henrique_ to attempt her
+Deliverance: The Hour indeed was different, being determined to be at
+eleven. _Elvira_, who was present at the Conference, took the Hint; and
+not being willing to disoblige a Brother who had so hazarded his Life in
+Vindication of her, either does not, or would not seem to oppose his
+Inclinations at that Time: However, when he retired with her to talk
+more particularly of his intended Revenge on Don _Henrique_, who he told
+her lay somewhere absconded in _Toledo_, and whom he had resolved, as he
+assured her, to sacrifice to her injur'd Honour, and his Resentments;
+she oppos'd that his vindictive Resolution with all the forcible
+Arguments in a virtuous and pious Lady's Capacity, but in vain: so that
+immediately upon his Retreat from the Convent, she took the Opportunity
+of writing to Don _Henrique_ as follows, the fatal Hour not being then
+seven Nights distant.
+
+  Don _Henrique_,
+
+  _My Brother is now in Town, in Pursuit of your Life; nay more, of
+  your Mistress, who has consented to make her Escape from the
+  Convent, at the same Place of it, and by the same Means on which she
+  had agreed to give her self entirely to you, but the Hour is eleven.
+  I�know, +Henrique+, your +Ardelia+ is dearer to you than your Life:
+  But your Life, your dear Life, is more desired than any Thing in
+  this World,�by_
+
+  Your injur'd and forsaken
+
+  _ELVIRA_.
+
+This she delivered to _Richardo's_ Servant, whom _Henrique_ had gained
+that Night, as soon as she came to visit _Ardelia_, at her usual Hour,
+just as she went out of the Cloister.
+
+Don _Henrique_ was not a little surprized with this _Billet_; however,
+he could hardly resolve to forbear his accustom'd Visits to _Ardelia_,
+at first: But upon more mature Consideration, he only chose to converse
+with her by Letters, which still press'd her to be mindful of her
+Promise, and of the Hour, not taking notice of any Caution that he had
+received of her Treachery. To which she still return'd in Words that
+might assure him of her Constancy.
+
+The dreadful Hour wanted not a Quarter of being perfect, when Don
+_Henrique_ came; and having fixed his Rope-Ladder to that Part of the
+Garden-Wall, where he was expected, _Ardelia_, who had not stir'd from
+that very Place for a Quarter of an Hour before, prepar'd to ascend by
+it; which she did, as soon as his Servant had returned and fixed it on
+the inner-side of the Wall: On the Top of which, at a little Distance,
+she found another fasten'd, for her to descend on the out-side, whilst
+Don _Henrique_ eagerly waited to receive her. She came at last, and flew
+into his Arms; which made _Henrique_ cry out in a Rapture, _Am I at last
+once more happy in having my +Ardelia+ in my Possession!_ She, who knew
+his Voice, and now found she was betray'd, but knew not by whom,
+shriek'd out, _I�am ruined! help! help!--Loose me, I�charge you,
++Henrique!+ Loose me!_ At that very Moment, and at those very Words,
+came _Sebastian_, attended by only one Servant; and hearing _Henrique_
+reply, _Not all the Powers of Hell shall snatch you from me_, drawing
+his Sword, without one Word, made a furious Pass at him: But his Rage
+and Haste misguided his Arm, for his Sword went quite through
+_Ardelia's_ Body, who only said, _Ah, wretched Maid!_ and drop'd from
+_Henrique's_ Arms, who then was obliged to quit her, to preserve his own
+Life, if possible: however he had not had so much Time as to draw, had
+not _Sebastian_ been amazed at this dreadful Mistake of his Sword; but
+presently recollecting himself, he flew with redoubled Rage to attack
+_Henrique_; and his Servant had seconded him, had not _Henrique's_, who
+was now descended, otherwise diverted him. They fought with the greatest
+Animosity on both Sides, and with equal Advantage; for they both fell
+together: _Ah, my +Ardelia+, I come to thee now!_ (_Sebastian_ groan'd
+out,)--_'Twas this unlucky Arm, which now embraces thee, that killed
+thee._ _Just Heaven!_ (she sigh'd out,)--_Oh, yet have Mercy!_ [Here
+they both dy'd.] _Amen_, (cry'd _Henrique_, dying) _I�want it most_--
+_Oh, +Antonio+!_ _Oh, +Elvira+! Ah, there's the Weight that sinks
+me down.--And yet I wish Forgiveness.--Once more, sweet Heaven, have
+Mercy!_ He could not out-live that last Word; which was echo'd by
+_Elvira_, who all this while stood weeping, and calling out for Help, as
+she stood close to the Wall in the Garden.
+
+This alarmed the Rest of the Sisters, who rising, caus'd the Bell to be
+rung out, as upon dangerous Occasions it used to be; which rais'd the
+Neighbourhood, who came time enough to remove the dead Bodies of the two
+Rivals, and of the late fallen Angel _Ardelia_. The injur'd and
+neglected _Elvira_, whose Piety designed quite contrary Effects, was
+immediately seiz'd with a violent Fever; which, as it was violent, did
+not last long: for she dy'd within four and twenty Hours, with all the
+happy Symptoms of a departing Saint.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE LUCKY MISTAKE.
+
+
+
+
+  TO GEORGE GREENVIEL, ESQ;
+
+  Sir,
+
+At this Critical Juncture, I find the Authors will have need of a
+Protector, as well as the Nation, we having peculiar Laws and Liberties
+to be defended as well as that, but of how different a Nature, none but
+such Judges as you are fit to determine; whatever our Province be, I�am
+sure it should be Wit, and you know what Ellevated _Ben_ says, _That
+none can judge of Wit but Wit._ Let the _Heroes_ toyl for Crowns and
+Kingdoms and with what pretences they please. Let the Slaves of State
+drudge on for false and empty Glories, troubling the repose of the World
+and ruining their own to gain uneasy Grandure, whilst you, oh! happyer
+Sir, great enough by your Birth, yet more Illustrious by your Wit, are
+capable of enjoying alone that true Felicity of Mind, which belongs to
+an absolutely Vertuous and Gallant Man, by that, and the lively Notions
+of Honour Imprinted in your Soul, you are above Ambition, and can Form
+_Kings_ and _Heroes_, when 'ere your delicate Fancy shall put you upon
+the Poetical Creation.
+
+You can make those _Heroes_ Lovers too, and inspire 'em with a Language
+so Irresistable as may instruct the Fair, how easily you may Conquer
+when it comes to your turn, to plead for a Heart, nor is your delicate
+Wit the only Charm; your Person claims an equal share of Graces with
+those of your Mind, and both together are capable of rendering you
+Victorious, whereever you shall please to Address 'em, but your Vertue
+keeps you from those Ravages of Beauty, which so wholly imploy the hours
+of the Rest of the Gay and Young, whilst you have business more sollid,
+and more noble for yours.
+
+I would not by this have the World imagine you are therefore exempt from
+the tenderness of Love, it rather seems you were on purpose form'd for
+that Soft Entertainment, such an Agreement there is between the Harmony
+of your Soul and your Person, and sure the _Muses_ who have so divinely
+inspir'd you with Poetic Fires, have furnisht you with that Necessary
+Material (Love) to maintain it, and to make it burn with the more
+Ellevated Flame.
+
+'Tis therefore, Sir, I expect you will the more easily Pardon the
+Dedicating to your idler hours (if�any such you have) this little Amour,
+all that I shall say for it, is, that 'tis not Translation but an
+Original, that has more of realty than fiction, if I have not made it
+fuller of intreague, 'twas because I had a mind to keep close to the
+Truth.
+
+I must own, Sir, the Obligations I have to you, deserves a greater
+testimony of my respect, than this little piece, too trivial to bear the
+honour of your Name, but my increasing Indisposition makes me fear I
+shall not have many opportunities of this Kind, and shou'd be loath to
+leave this ungrateful World, without acknowledging my Gratitude more
+signally than barely by word of Mouth, and without wishing you all the
+happiness your merit and admirable Vertues deserve and of assuring you
+how unfeignedly I am (and how Proud of being) Sir,
+
+  Your most obliged and
+    most humble servant
+      A. Behn.
+
+
+
+
+THE LUCKY MISTAKE: A NEW NOVEL.
+
+
+The River _Loyre_ has on its delightful Banks abundance of handsome,
+beautiful and rich Towns and Villages, to which the noble Stream adds no
+small Graces and Advantages, blessing their Fields with Plenty, and
+their Eyes with a thousand Diversions. In one of these happily situated
+Towns, called _Orleans_, where abundance of People of the best Quality
+and Condition reside, there was a rich Nobleman, now retir'd from the
+busy Court, where in his Youth he had been bred, weary'd with the Toils
+of Ceremony and Noise, to enjoy that perfect Tranquillity of Life, which
+is no where to be found but in Retreat, a�faithful Friend, and a good
+Library; and, as the admirable _Horace_ says, in a little House and a
+large Garden. Count _Bellyaurd_, for so was this Nobleman call'd, was of
+this Opinion; and the rather, because he had one only Son, called
+_Rinaldo_, now grown to the Age of fifteen, who having all the excellent
+Qualities and Graces of Youth by Nature, he would bring him up in all
+Virtues and noble Sciences, which he believ'd the Gaiety and Lustre of
+the Court might divert: he therefore in his Retirement spar'd no Cost to
+those that could instruct and accomplish him; and he had the best Tutors
+and Masters that could be purchased at Court: _Bellyaurd_ making far
+less Account of Riches than of fine Parts. He found his Son capable of
+all Impressions, having a Wit suitable to his delicate Person, so that
+he was the sole Joy of his Life, and the Darling of his Eyes.
+
+In the very next House, which join'd close to that of _Bellyaurd's_,
+there lived another Count, who had in his Youth been banished the Court
+of _France_ for some Misunderstandings in some high Affairs wherein he
+was concern'd: his Name was _De Pais_, a Man of great Birth, but of no
+Fortune; or at least one not suitable to the Grandeur of his Original.
+And as it is most natural for great Souls to be most proud (if�I may
+call a handsome Disdain by that vulgar Name) when they are most
+depress'd; so _De Pais_ was more retir'd, more estrang'd from his
+Neighbours, and kept a greater Distance, than if he had enjoy'd all he
+had lost at Court; and took more Solemnity and State upon him, because
+he would not be subject to the Reproaches of the World, by making
+himself familiar with it: So that he rarely visited; and, contrary to
+the Custom of those in _France_, who are easy of Access, and free of
+Conversation, he kept his Family retir'd so close, that 'twas rare to
+see any of them; and when they went abroad, which was but seldom, they
+wanted nothing as to outward Appearance, that was fit for his Quality,
+and what was much above his Condition.
+
+This old Count had two only Daughters, of exceeding Beauty, who gave the
+generous Father ten thousand Torments, as often as he beheld them, when
+he consider'd their extreme Beauty, their fine Wit, their Innocence,
+Modesty, and above all their Birth; and that he had not a Fortune to
+marry them according to their Quality; and below it, he had rather see
+them laid in their silent Graves, than consent to it: for he scorn'd the
+World should see him forced by his Poverty to commit an Action below his
+Dignity.
+
+There lived in a neighbouring Town, a certain Nobleman, Friend to _De
+Pais_, call'd Count _Vernole_, a Man of about forty years of Age, of low
+Stature, Complexion very black and swarthy, lean, lame, extreme proud
+and haughty; extracted of a Descent from the Blood-Royal; not extremely
+brave, but very glorious: he had no very great Estate, but was in
+Election of a greater, and of an Addition of Honour from the King, his
+Father having done most worthy Services against the _Hugonots_, and by
+the high Favour of Cardinal _Mazarine_, was represented to his Majesty,
+as a Man related to the Crown, of great Name, but small Estate: so that
+there were now nothing but great Expectations and Preparations in the
+Family of Count _Vernole_ to go to the Court, to which he daily hoped an
+Invitation or Command.
+
+_Vernole's_ Fortune being hitherto something a-kin to that of _De Pais_,
+there was a greater Correspondency between these two Gentlemen, than
+they had with any other Persons; they accounting themselves above the
+rest of the World, believed none so proper and fit for their
+Conversation, as that of each other: so that there was a very particular
+Intimacy between them. Whenever they went abroad, they clubb'd their
+Train, to make one great Show; and were always together, bemoaning each
+other's Fortune, and that from so high a Descent, as one from Monarchs
+by the Mother's side, and the other from Dukes of the Father's Side,
+they were reduc'd by Fate to the Degree of private Gentlemen. They would
+often consult how to manage Affairs most to Advantage, and often _De
+Pais_ would ask Counsel of _Vernole_, how best he should dispose of his
+Daughters, which now were about their ninth Year the eldest, and eighth
+the youngest. _Vernole_ had often seen those two Buds of Beauty, and
+already saw opening in _Atlante's_ Face and Mind (for that was the Name
+of the eldest, and _Charlot_ the youngest) a�Glory of Wit and Beauty,
+which could not but one Day display it self, with dazling Lustre, to the
+wondring World.
+
+_Vernole_ was a great Virtuoso, of a Humour nice, delicate, critical and
+opinionative: he had nothing of the _French_ Mein in him, but all the
+Gravity of the Don. His ill-favour'd Person, and his low Estate, put him
+out of Humour with the World; and because that should not upbraid or
+reproach his Follies and Defects, he was sure to be beforehand with
+that, and to be always satirick upon it; and lov'd to live and act
+contrary to the Custom and Usage of all Mankind besides.
+
+He was infinitely delighted to find a Man of his own Humour in _De
+Pais_, or at least a Man that would be persuaded to like his so well, to
+live up to it; and it was no little Joy and Satisfaction to him to find,
+that he kept his Daughters in that Severity, which was wholly agreeable
+to him, and so contrary to the Manner and Fashion of the _French_
+Quality; who allow all Freedoms, which to _Vernole's_ rigid Nature,
+seem'd as so many Steps to Vice, and in his Opinion, the Ruiner of all
+Virtue and Honour in Womankind. _De Pais_ was extremely glad his Conduct
+was so well interpreted, which was no other in him than a proud
+Frugality; who, because they could not appear in so much Gallantry as
+their Quality required, kept 'em retir'd, and unseen to all, but his
+particular Friends, of whom _Vernole_ was the chief.
+
+_Vernole_ never appear'd before _Atlante_ (which was seldom) but he
+assum'd a Gravity and Respect fit to have entertain'd a Maid of Twenty,
+or rather a Matron of much greater Years and Judgment. His Discourses
+were always of Matters of State or Philosophy; and sometimes when _De
+Pais_ would (laughing) say, 'He might as well entertain _Atlante_ with
+_Greek_ and _Hebrew_,' he would reply gravely, 'You are mistaken, Sir,
+I�find the Seeds of great and profound Matter in the Soul of this young
+Maid, which ought to be nourish'd now while she is young, and they will
+grow up to very great Perfection: I�find _Atlante_ capable of the noble
+Virtues of the Mind, and am infinitely mistaken in my Observations, and
+Art of Physiognomy, if _Atlante_ be not born for greater Things than her
+Fortune does now Promise: She will be very considerable in the World,
+(believe�me) and this will arrive to her perfectly from the Force of her
+Charms.' _De Pais_ was extremely overjoy'd to hear such Good prophesied
+of _Atlante_, and from that Time set a sort of an Esteem upon her, which
+he did not on _Charlot_ his younger; whom, by the Persuasions of
+_Vernole_, he resolv'd to put in a Monastery, that what he had might
+descend to _Atlante_: not but he confess'd _Charlot_ had Beauty
+extremely attractive, and a Wit that promised much, when it should be
+cultivated by Years and Experience; and would shew it self with great
+Advantage and Lustre in a Monastery. All this pleased _De Pais_ very
+well, who was easily persuaded, since he had not a Fortune to marry her
+well in the World.
+
+As yet _Vernole_ had never spoke to _Atlante_ of Love, nor did his
+Gravity think it Prudence to discover his Heart to so young a Maid; he
+waited her more sensible Years, when he could hope to have some Return.
+And all he expected from this her tender Age, was by his daily Converse
+with her, and the Presents he made her suitable to her Years, to
+ingratiate himself insensibly into her Friendship and Esteem, since she
+was not yet capable of Love; but even in that he mistook his Aim, for
+every day he grew more and more disagreeable to _Atlante_, and would
+have been her absolute Aversion, had she known she had every Day
+entertained a Lover; but as she grew in Years and Sense, he seemed the
+more despicable in her Eyes as to his Person; yet as she had respect to
+his Parts and Qualities, she paid him all the Complaisance she could,
+and which was due to him, and so must be confess'd. Tho' he had a stiff
+Formality in all he said and did, yet he had Wit and Learning, and was a
+great Philosopher. As much of his Learning as _Atlante_ was capable of
+attaining to, he made her Mistress of, and that was no small Portion;
+for all his Discourse was fine and easily comprehended, his Notions of
+Philosophy fit for Ladies; and he took greater Pains with _Atlante_,
+than any Master would have done with a Scholar: So that it was most
+certain, he added very great Accomplishment to her natural Wit: and the
+more, because she took a great Delight in Philosophy; which very often
+made her impatient of his Coming, especially when she had many Questions
+to ask him concerning it, and she would often receive him with a
+Pleasure in her Face, which he did not fail to interpret to his own
+Advantage, being very apt to flatter himself. Her Sister _Charlot_ would
+often ask her, 'How she could give whole Afternoons to so disagreeable a
+Man. What is it (said she) that charms you so? his tawny Leather-Face,
+his extraordinary high Nose, his wide Mouth and Eye-brows, that hang
+low'ring over his Eyes, his lean Carcase, and his lame and halting
+Hips?' But _Atlante_ would discreetly reply, 'If I must grant all you
+say of Count _Vernole_ to be true, yet he has a Wit and Learning that
+will atone sufficiently for all those Faults you mention: A�fine Soul is
+infinitely to be preferr'd to a fine Body; this decays, but that's
+eternal; and Age that ruins one, refines the other.' Tho' possibly
+_Atlante_ thought as ill of the Count as her Sister, yet in Respect to
+him, she would not own�it.
+
+_Atlante_ was now arriv'd to her thirteenth Year, when her Beauty, which
+every Day increas'd, became the Discourse of the whole Town, which had
+already gain'd her as many Lovers as had beheld her; for none saw her
+without languishing for her, or at least, but what were in very great
+Admiration of her. Every body talk'd of the young _Atlante_, and all the
+Noblemen, who had Sons (knowing the Smallness of her Fortune, and the
+Lustre of her Beauty) would send them, for fear of their being charm'd
+with her Beauty, either to some other part of the World, or exhorted
+them, by way of Precaution, to keep out of her Sight. Old _Bellyaurd_
+was one of those wise Parents; and timely Prevention, as he thought, of
+_Rinaldo's_ falling in Love with _Atlante_, perhaps was the Occasion of
+his being so: He had before heard of _Atlante_, and of her Beauty, yet
+it had made no Impressions on his Heart; but his Father no sooner forbid
+him Loving, than he felt a new Desire tormenting him, of seeing this
+lovely and dangerous young Person: he wonders at his unaccountable Pain,
+which daily sollicits him within, to go where he may behold this Beauty;
+of whom he frames a thousand Ideas, all such as were most agreeable to
+him; but then upbraids his Fancy for not forming her half so delicate as
+she was; and longs yet more to see her, to know how near she approaches
+to the Picture he has drawn of her in his Mind: and tho' he knew she
+liv'd the next House to him, yet he knew also she was kept within like a
+vow'd _Nun_, or with the Severity of a _Spaniard_. And tho' he had a
+Chamber, which had a jutting Window, that look'd just upon the Door of
+Monsieur _De Pais_, and that he would watch many Hours at a time, in
+hope to see them go out, yet he could never get a Glimpse of her; yet he
+heard she often frequented the Church of _our Lady_. Thither then young
+_Rinaldo_ resolv'd to go, and did so two or three Mornings; in which
+time, to his unspeakable Grief, he saw no Beauty appear that charm'd
+him; and yet he fancy'd that _Atlante_ was there, and that he had seen
+her; that some one of those young Ladies that he saw in the Church was
+she, tho' he had no body to enquire of, and that she was not so fair as
+the World reported; for which he would often sigh, as if he had lost
+some great Expectation. However, he ceased not to frequent this Church,
+and one day saw a young Beauty, who at first glimpse made his Heart leap
+to his Mouth, and fall a trembling again into its wonted Place; for it
+immediately told him, that that young Maid was _Atlante_: she was with
+her Sister _Charlot_, who was very handsome, but not comparable to
+_Atlante_. He fix'd his Eyes upon her as she kneel'd at the Altar; he
+never moved from that charming Face as long as she remain'd there; he
+forgot all Devotion, but what he paid to her; he ador'd her, he burnt
+and languished already for her, and found he must possess _Atlante_ or
+die. Often as he gaz'd upon her, he saw her fair Eyes lifted up towards
+his, where they often met; which she perceiving, would cast hers down
+into her Bosom, or on her Book, and blush as if she had done a Fault.
+_Charlot_ perceiv'd all the Motions of _Rinaldo_, how he folded his
+Arms, how he sigh'd and gaz'd on her Sister; she took notice of his
+Clothes, his Garniture, and every particular of his Dress, as young
+Girls use to do; and seeing him so very handsome, and so much better
+dress'd than all the young Cavaliers that were in the Church, she was
+very much pleas'd with him; and could not forbear saying, in a low
+Voice, to _Atlante_, 'Look, look my Sister, what a pretty Monsieur
+yonder is! see how fine his Face is, how delicate his Hair, how gallant
+his Dress! and do but look how he gazes on you!' This would make
+_Atlante_ blush anew, who durst not raise her Eyes for fear she should
+encounter his. While he had the Pleasure to imagine they were talking of
+him, and he saw in the pretty Face of _Charlot_, that what she said was
+not to his Disadvantage, and by the Blushes of _Atlante_, that she was
+not displeas'd with what was spoken to her; he perceiv'd the young one
+importunate with her; and _Atlante_ jogging her with her Elbow, as much
+as to say, Hold your Peace: all this he made a kind Interpretation of,
+and was transported with Joy at the good Omens. He was willing to
+flatter his new Flame, and to compliment his young Desire with a little
+Hope; but the divine Ceremony ceasing, _Atlante_ left the Church, and it
+being very fair Weather, she walk'd home. _Rinaldo_, who saw her going,
+felt all the Agonies of a Lover, who parts with all that can make him
+happy; and seeing only _Atlante_ attended with her Sister, and a Footman
+following with their Books, he was a thousand times about to speak to
+'em; but he no sooner advanc'd a step or two towards 'em to that purpose
+(for he followed them) but his Heart fail'd, and a certain Awe and
+Reverence, or rather the Fears and Tremblings of a Lover, prevented him:
+but when he consider'd, that possibly he might never have so favourable
+an Opportunity again, he resolv'd a-new, and called up so much Courage
+to his Heart, as to speak to _Atlante_; but before he did so, _Charlot_
+looking behind her, saw _Rinaldo_ very near to 'em, and cry'd out with a
+Voice of Joy, 'Oh! Sister, Sister! look where the handsome _Monsieur_
+is, just behind us! sure he is some-body of Quality, for see he has two
+Footmen that follow him, in just such Liveries, and so rich as those of
+our Neighbour _Monsieur Bellyaurd_.' At this _Atlante_ could not
+forbear, but before she was aware of it, turn'd her Head, and look'd on
+_Rinaldo_; which encourag'd him to advance, and putting off his Hat,
+which he clapt under his Arm, with a low Bow, said, 'Ladies, you are
+slenderly attended, and so many Accidents arrive to the Fair in the rude
+Streets, that I humbly implore you will permit me, whose Duty it is as a
+Neighbour, to wait on you to your Door.' 'Sir, (said _Atlante_ blushing)
+we fear no Insolence, and need no Protector; or if we did, we should not
+be so rude to take you out of your way, to serve us.' 'Madam, (said�he)
+my way lies yours. I�live at the next Door, and am Son to _Bellyaurd_,
+your Neighbour. But, Madam, (added�he) if I were to go all my Life out
+of the way, to do you Service, I�should take it for the greatest
+Happiness that could arrive to me; but, Madam, sure a Man can never be
+out of his Way, who has the Honour of so charming Company.' _Atlante_
+made no reply to this, but blush'd and bow'd: But _Charlot_ said, 'Nay,
+Sir, if you are our Neighbour, we will give you leave to conduct us
+home; but pray, Sir, how came you to know we are your Neighbours? for we
+never saw you before, to our knowledge.' 'My pretty Miss, (reply'd
+_Rinaldo_) I knew it from that transcendent Beauty that appear'd in your
+Faces, and fine Shapes; for I have heard, there was no Beauty in the
+World like that of _Atlante's_; and I no sooner saw her, but my Heart
+told me it was she.' 'Heart! (said _Charlot_ laughing) why, do Hearts
+use to speak?' 'The most intelligible of any thing, (_Rinaldo_ reply'd)
+when 'tis tenderly touch'd, when 'tis charm'd and transported.' At these
+Words he sigh'd, and _Atlante_, to his extreme Satisfaction, blush'd.
+'Touch'd, charm'd, and transported, (said _Charlot_) what's that? And
+how do you do to have it be all these things? For I would give any thing
+in the World to have my Heart speak.' 'Oh! (said _Rinaldo_) your Heart
+is too young, it is not yet arrived to the Years of Speaking; about
+thirteen or fourteen, it may possibly be saying a thousand soft things
+to you; but it must be first inspir'd by some noble Object, whose Idea
+it must retain.' 'What (reply'd the pretty Prattler) I'll warrant I must
+be in Love?' 'Yes, (said _Rinaldo_) most passionately, or you will have
+but little Conversation with your Heart.' 'Oh! (reply'd she) I�am afraid
+the Pleasure of such a Conversation, will not make me amends for the
+Pain that Love will give me.' 'That (said _Rinaldo_) is according as the
+Object is kind, and as you hope; if he love, and you hope, you will have
+double Pleasure: And in this, how great an Advantage have fair Ladies
+above us Men! 'Tis always impossible for you to love in vain, you have
+your Choice of a thousand Hearts, which you have subdu'd, and may not
+only chuse your Slaves, but be assur'd of 'em; without speaking, you are
+belov'd, it needs not cost you a Sigh or a Tear: But unhappy Man is
+often destin'd to give his Heart, where it is not regarded, to sigh, to
+weep, and languish, without any hope of Pity.' 'You speak so feelingly,
+Sir, (said _Charlot_) that I am afraid this is your Case.' 'Yes, Madam,
+(reply'd _Rinaldo_, sighing) I�am that unhappy Man.' 'Indeed it is pity
+(said she.) Pray, how long have you been so?' 'Ever since I heard of the
+charming _Atlante_, (reply'd he, sighing again) I�ador'd her Character;
+but now I have seen her, I�die for her.' 'For me, Sir! (said _Atlante_,
+who had not yet spoke) this is the common Compliment of all the young
+Men, who pretend to be Lovers; and if one should pity all those Sighers,
+we should have but very little left for our selves.' 'I�believe (said
+_Rinaldo_) there are none that tell you so, who do not mean as they say:
+Yet among all those Adorers, and those who say they will die for you,
+you will find none will be so good as their Words but _Rinaldo_.'
+'Perhaps (said _Atlante_) of all those who tell me of Dying, there are
+none that tell me of it with so little Reason as _Rinaldo_, if that be
+your Name, Sir.' 'Madam, it is, (said�he) and who am transported with an
+unspeakable Joy, to hear those last Words from your fair Mouth: and let
+me, Oh lovely _Atlante!_ assure you, that what I have said, are not
+Words of course, but proceed from a Heart that has vow'd it self
+eternally yours, even before I had the Happiness to behold this divine
+Person; but now that my Eyes have made good all my Heart before
+imagin'd, and did but hope, I�swear, I�will die a thousand Deaths,
+rather than violate what I have said to you; that I adore you; that my
+Soul and all my Faculties, are charm'd with your Beauty and Innocence,
+and that my Life and Fortune, not inconsiderable, shall be laid at your
+Feet.' This he spoke with a Fervency of Passion, that left her no Doubt
+of what he had said; yet she blush'd for Shame, and was a little angry
+at her self, for suffering him to say so much to her, the very first
+time she saw him, and accused her self for giving him any Encouragement:
+And in this Confusion she replied, 'Sir, you have said too much to be
+believ'd; and I cannot imagine so short an Acquaintance can make so
+considerable an Impression; of which Confession I accuse my self much
+more than you, in that I did not only hearken to what you said, without
+forbidding you to entertain me at that rate, but for unheedily speaking
+something, that has encourag'd this Boldness; for so I must call it, in
+a Man so great a Stranger to me.' 'Madam (said�he) if I have offended by
+the Suddenness of my presumptuous Discovery, I�beseech you to consider
+my Reasons for it, the few Opportunities I am like to have, and the
+Impossibility of waiting on you, both from the Severity of your Father
+and mine; who, ere I saw you, warn'd me of my Fate, as if he foresaw I
+should fall in love, as soon as I should chance to see you; and for that
+Reason has kept me closer to my Studies, than hitherto I have been. And
+from that time I began to feel a Flame, which was kindled by Report
+alone, and the Description my Father gave of your wondrous and dangerous
+Beauty: Therefore, Madam, I�have not suddenly told you of my Passion.
+I�have been long your Lover, and have long languish'd without telling of
+my Pain; and you ought to pardon it now, since it is done with all the
+Respect and religious Awe, that 'tis possible for a Heart to deliver and
+unload it self in; therefore, Madam, if you have by chance uttered any
+thing, that I have taken Advantage or Hope from, I�assure you 'tis so
+small, that you have no reason to repent it; but rather, if you would
+have me live, send me not from you, without a Confirmation of that
+little Hope. See, Madam, (said he, more earnestly and trembling) see we
+are almost arriv'd at our Homes, send me not to mine in a Despair that I
+cannot support with Life; but tell me, I�shall be bless'd with your
+Sight, sometimes in your Balcony, which is very near to a jetting Window
+in our House, from whence I have sent many a longing Look towards yours,
+in hope to have seen my Soul's Tormentor.' 'I�shall be very unwilling
+(said she) to enter into an Intrigue of Love or Friendship with a Man,
+whose Parents will be averse to my Happiness, and possibly mine as
+refractory, tho' they cannot but know such an Alliance would be very
+considerable, my Fortune not being suitable to yours: I�tell you this,
+that you may withdraw in time from an Engagement, in which I find there
+will be a great many Obstacles.' 'Oh! Madam, (reply'd _Rinaldo_,
+sighing) if my Person be not disagreeable to you, you will have no
+occasion to fear the rest; 'tis that I dread, and that which is all my
+Fear.' He, sighing, beheld her with a languishing Look, that told her,
+he expected her Answer; when she reply'd, 'Sir, if that will be
+Satisfaction enough for you at this time, I�do assure you, I�have no
+Aversion for your Person, in which I find more to be valu'd, than in any
+I have yet seen; and if what you say be real, and proceed from a Heart
+truly affected, I�find, in spite of me, you will oblige me to give you
+Hope.'
+
+They were come so near their own Houses, that he had not time to return
+her any Answer; but with a low Bow he acknowledg'd her Bounty, and
+express'd the Joy her last Words had given him, by a Look that made her
+understand he was charm'd and pleas'd; and she bowing to him with an Air
+of Satisfaction in her Face, he was well assur'd, there was nothing to
+be seen so lovely as she then appear'd, and left her to go into her own
+House: but till she was out of sight, he had not power to stir, and then
+sighing, retired to his own Apartment, to think over all that had past
+between them. He found nothing but what gave him a thousand Joys, in all
+she had said; and he blest this happy Day, and wondred how his Stars
+came so kind, to make him in one hour at once see _Atlante_, and have
+the happiness to know from her Mouth, that he was not disagreeable to
+her: Yet with this Satisfaction, he had a thousand Thoughts mix'd which
+were tormenting, and those were the Fear of their Parents; he foresaw
+from what his Father had said to him already, that it would be difficult
+to draw him to a Consent of his Marriage with _Atlante_. These Joys and
+Fears were his Companions all the Night, in which he took but little
+Rest. Nor was _Atlante_ without her Inquietudes: She found _Rinaldo_
+more in her Thoughts than she wish'd, and a sudden Change of Humour,
+that made her know something was the matter with her more than usual;
+she calls to mind _Rinaldo's_ speaking of the Conversation with his
+Heart, and found hers would be tattling to her, if she would give way to
+it; and yet the more she strove to avoid it, the more it importun'd her,
+and in spight of all her Resistance, would tell her, that _Rinaldo_ had
+a thousand Charms: It tells her, that he loves and adores her, and that
+she would be the most cruel of her Sex, should she not be sensible of
+his Passion. She finds a thousand Graces in his Person and Conversation,
+and as many Advantages in his Fortune, which was one of the most
+considerable in all those Parts; for his Estate exceeded that of the
+most Noble Men in _Orleans_, and she imagines she should be the most
+fortunate of all Womankind in such a Match. With these Thoughts she
+employ'd all the Hours of the Night; so that she lay so long in Bed the
+next Day, that Count _Vernole_, who had invited himself to Dinner, came
+before she had quitted her Chamber, and she was forc'd to say, she had
+not been well. He had brought her a very fine Book, newly come out, of
+delicate Philosophy, fit for the Study of Ladies. But he appear'd so
+disagreeable to that Heart, wholly taken up with a new and fine Object,
+that she could now hardly pay him that Civility she was wont to do;
+while on the other side that little State and Pride _Atlante_ assum'd,
+made her appear the more charming to him: so that if _Atlante_ had no
+mind to begin a new Lesson of Philosophy, while she fancied her Thoughts
+were much better employ'd, the Count every moment expressing his
+Tenderness and Passion, had as little an Inclination to instruct her, as
+she had to be instructed: Love had taught her a new Lesson, and he would
+fain teach her a new Lesson of Love, but fears it will be a diminishing
+his Gravity and Grandeur, to open the Secrets of his Heart to so young a
+Maid; he therefore thinks it more agreeable to his Quality and Years,
+being about Forty, to use her Father's Authority in this Affair, and
+that it was sufficient for him to declare himself to Monsieur _De Pais_,
+who he knew would be proud of the Honour he did him. Some time past,
+before he could be persuaded even to declare himself to her Father: he
+fancies the little Coldness and Pride he saw in _Atlante's_ Face, which
+was not usual, proceeded from some Discovery of Passion, which his Eyes
+had made, or now and then a Sigh, that unawares broke forth; and accuses
+himself of a Levity below his Quality, and the Dignity of his Wit and
+Gravity; and therefore assumes a more rigid and formal Behaviour than he
+was wont, which rendred him yet more disagreeable than before; and 'twas
+with greater Pain than ever, she gave him that Respect which was due to
+his Quality.
+
+_Rinaldo_, after a restless Night, was up very early in the Morning; and
+tho' he was not certain of seeing his adorable _Atlante_, he dress'd
+himself with all that Care, as if he had been to have waited on her, and
+got himself into the Window, that overlook'd Monsieur _De Pais's_
+Balcony, where he had not remain'd long, before he saw the pretty
+_Charlot_ come into it, not with any design of seeing _Rinaldo_, but to
+look and gaze about her a little. _Rinaldo_ saw her, and made her a very
+low Reverence, and found some disorder'd Joy on the sight of even
+_Charlot_, since she was Sister to _Atlante_. He call'd to her, (for the
+Window was so near her, he could easily be heard by her) and told her,
+'He was infinitely indebted to her Bounty, for giving him an Opportunity
+yesterday of falling on that Discourse, which had made him the happiest
+Man in the World': He said, 'If she had not by her agreeable
+Conversation encourag'd him, and drawn him from one Word to another, he
+should never have had the Confidence to have told _Atlante_, how much he
+ador'd her.' 'I�am very glad, (replyed _Charlot_) that I was the
+Occasion of the Beginning of an Amour, which was displeasing to neither
+one nor the other; for I assure you for your Comfort, my Sister nothing
+but thinks on you: We lie together, and you have taught her already to
+sigh so, that I could not sleep for her.' At this his Face was cover'd
+over with a rising Joy, which his Heart could not contain: And after
+some Discourse, in which this innocent Girl discovered more than
+_Atlante_ wish'd she should, he besought her to become his Advocate; and
+since she had no Brother, to give him leave to assume that Honour, and
+call her Sister. Thus, by degrees, he flatter'd her into a Consent of
+carrying a Letter from him to _Atlante_; which she, who believ'd all as
+innocent as her self, and being not forbid to do so, immediately
+consented to; when he took his Pen and Ink, that stood in the Window,
+with Paper, and wrote _Atlante_ this following Letter:
+
+  _RINALDO_ to _ATLANTE_.
+
+  _If my Fate be so severe, as to deny me the Happiness of sighing out
+  my Pain and Passion daily at your Feet, if there be any Faith in the
+  Hope you were pleased to give me (as�'twere a Sin to doubt) Oh
+  charming +Atlante+! suffer me not to languish, both without
+  beholding you, and without the Blessing of now and then a Billet, in
+  answer to those that shall daily assure you of my eternal Faith and
+  Vows; 'tis all I ask, till Fortune, and our Affairs, shall allow me
+  the unspeakable Satisfaction of claiming you: yet if your Charity
+  can sometimes afford me a sight of you, either from your Balcony in
+  the Evening, or at a Church in the Morning, it would save me from
+  that Despair and Torment, which must possess a Heart so unassur'd,
+  as that�of_
+
+  Your Eternal Adorer,
+  _Rin. Bellyaurd_.
+
+He having writ and seal'd this, toss'd it into the Balcony to _Charlot_,
+having first look'd about to see if none perceiv'd them. She put it in
+her Bosom, and ran in to her Sister, whom by chance she found alone;
+_Vernole_ having taken _De Pais_ into the Garden, to discourse him
+concerning the sending _Charlot_ to the Monastery, which Work he desir'd
+to see perform'd, before he declar'd his Intentions to _Atlante_: for
+among all his other good Qualities, he was very avaricious; and as fair
+as _Atlante_ was, he thought she would be much fairer with the Addition
+of _Charlot's_ Portion. This Affair of his with Monsieur _De Pais_, gave
+_Charlot_ an opportunity of delivering her Letter to her Sister; who no
+sooner drew it from her Bosom, but _Atlante's_ Face was covered over
+with Blushes: For she imagin'd from whence it came, and had a secret Joy
+in that Imagination, tho' she thought she must put on the Severity and
+Niceness of a Virgin, who would not be thought to have surrendered her
+Heart with so small an Assault, and the first too. So she demanded from
+whence _Charlot_ had that Letter? Who replyed with Joy, 'From the fine
+young Gentleman, our Neighbour.' At which _Atlante_ assum'd all the
+Gravity she could, to chide her Sister; who replied, 'Well, Sister, had
+you this day seen him, you would not have been angry to have receiv'd a
+Letter from him; he look'd so handsome, and was so richly dress'd, ten
+times finer than he was yesterday; and I promis'd him you should read
+it: therefore, pray let me keep my Word with him; and not only so, but
+carry him an Answer.' 'Well (said _Atlante_) to save your Credit with
+Monsieur _Rinaldo_, I will read it': Which she did, and finish'd with a
+Sigh. While she was reading, _Charlot_ ran into the Garden, to see if
+they were not likely to be surpriz'd; and finding the Count and her
+Father set in an Arbour, in deep Discourse, she brought Pen, Ink, and
+Paper to her Sister, and told her, she might write without the Fear of
+being disturbed: and urged her so long to what was enough her
+Inclination, that she at last obtained this Answer:
+
+  _ATLANTE_ to _RINALDO_.
+
+  _+Charlot+, your little importunate Advocate, has at last subdued me
+  to a Consent of returning you This. She has put me on an Affair with
+  which I am wholly unacquainted; and you ought to take this very
+  kindly from me, since it is the very first time I ever writ to one
+  of your Sex, tho' perhaps I might with less Danger have done it to
+  any other Man. I�tremble while I write, since I dread a
+  Correspondence of this Nature, which may insensibly draw us into an
+  Inconvenience, and engage me beyond the Limits of that Nicety I
+  ought to preserve: For this Way we venture to say a thousand little
+  kind Things, which in Conversation we dare not do: for now none can
+  see us blush. I�am sensible I shall this Way put my self too soon
+  into your Power; and tho' you have abundance of Merit, I�ought to be
+  asham'd of confessing, I�am but too sensible of it:--But hold--I
+  shall discover for your Repose (which I would preserve) too much of
+  the Heart�of_
+
+  Atlante.
+
+She gave this Letter to _Charlot_; who immediately ran into the Balcony
+with it, where she still found _Rinaldo_ in a melancholy Posture,
+leaning his Head on his Hand: She shewed him the Letter, but was afraid
+to toss it to him, for fear it might fall to the Ground; so he ran and
+fetched a long Cane, which he cleft at one End, and held it while she
+put the Letter into the Cleft, and staid not to hear what he said to it.
+But never was Man so transported with Joy, as he was at the reading of
+this Letter; it gives him new Wounds; for to the Generous, nothing
+obliges Love so much as Love: tho' it is now too much the Nature of that
+inconstant Sex, to cease to love as soon as they are sure of the
+Conquest. But it was far different with our Cavalier; he was the more
+inflamed, by imagining he had made some Impressions on the Heart of
+_Atlante_, and kindled some Sparks there, that in time might increase to
+something more; so that he now resolves to die hers: and considering all
+the Obstacles that may possibly hinder his Happiness, he found none but
+his Father's Obstinacy, perhaps occasioned by the Meanness of
+_Atlante's_ Fortune. To this he urged again, that he was his only Son,
+and a Son whom he loved equal to his own Life; and that certainly, as
+soon as he should behold him dying for _Atlante_, which if he were
+forc'd to quit her he must be, he then believed the Tenderness of so
+fond a Parent would break forth into Pity, and plead within for his
+Consent. These were the Thoughts that flatter'd this young Lover all the
+Day; and whether he were riding the Great Horse, or at his Study of
+Philosophy, or Mathematicks, Singing, Dancing, or whatsoever other
+Exercise his Tutors ordered, his Thoughts were continually on _Atlante_.
+And now he profited no more, whatever he seem'd to do: every Day he
+fail'd not to write to her by the Hand of the kind _Charlot_; who, young
+as she was, had conceiv'd a great Friendship for _Rinaldo_, and fail'd
+not to fetch her Letters, and bring him Answers, such as he wish'd to
+receive. But all this did not satisfy our impatient Lover; Absence
+kill'd, and he was no longer able to support himself, without a sight of
+this adorable Maid; he therefore implores, she will give him that
+Satisfaction: And she at last grants it, with a better Will than he
+imagin'd. The next Day was the appointed Time, when she would, under
+Pretence of going to Church, give him an Assignation: And because all
+publick Places were dangerous, and might make a great Noise, and they
+had no private Place to trust to, _Rinaldo_, under Pretence of going up
+the River in his Pleasure-Boat, which he often did, sent to have it made
+ready by the next Day at Ten of the Clock. This was accordingly done,
+and he gave _Atlante_ Notice of his Design of going an Hour or two on
+the River in his Boat, which lay near to such a Place, not far from the
+Church. She and _Charlot_ came thither: and because they durst not come
+out without a Footman or two, they taking one, sent him with a
+_How-do-ye_ to some young Ladies, and told him, he should find them at
+Church: So getting rid of their Spy, they hastened to the River-side,
+and found a Boat and _Rinaldo_, waiting to carry them on board his
+little Vessel, which was richly adorn'd, and a very handsome Collation
+ready for them, of cold Meats, Sallads and Sweetmeats.
+
+As soon as they were come into the Pleasure-Boat, unseen of any, he
+kneel'd at the Feet of _Atlante_, and there utter'd so many passionate
+and tender Things to her, with a Voice so trembling and soft, with Eyes
+so languishing, and a Fervency and a Fire so sincere, that her young
+Heart, wholly uncapable of Artifice, could no longer resist such
+Language, and such Looks of Love; she grows tender, and he perceives it
+in her fine Eyes, who could not dissemble; he reads her Heart in her
+Looks, and found it yielding apace; and therefore assaults it anew, with
+fresh Forces of Sighs and Tears: He implores she would assure him of her
+Heart, which she could no other way do, than by yielding to marry him:
+He would carry her to the next Village, there consummate that Happiness,
+without which he was able to live no longer; for he had a thousand
+Fears, that some other Lover was, or would suddenly be provided for her;
+and therefore he would make sure of her while he had this Opportunity:
+and to that End, he answer'd all the Objections she could make to the
+contrary. But ever, when he named Marriage, she trembled, with fear of
+doing something that she fancy'd she ought not to do without the Consent
+of her Father. She was sensible of the Advantage, but had been so us'd
+to a strict Obedience, that she could not without Horror think of
+violating it; and therefore besought him, as he valued her Repose, not
+to urge her to that: And told him further, That if he fear'd any Rival,
+she would give him what other Assurance and Satisfaction he pleas'd, but
+that of Marriage; which she could not consent to, till she knew such an
+Alliance would not be fatal to him: for she fear'd, as passionately as
+he lov'd her, when he should find she had occasion'd him the Loss of his
+Fortune, or his Father's Affection, he would grow to hate her. Tho' he
+answer'd to this all that a fond Lover could urge, yet she was resolv'd,
+and he forc'd to content himself with obliging her by his Prayers and
+Protestations, his Sighs and Tears, to a Contract, which they solemnly
+made each other, vowing on either Side, they would never marry any
+other. This being solemnly concluded, he assum'd a Look more gay and
+contented than before: He presented her a very rich Ring, which she
+durst not put on her Finger, but hid it in her Bosom. And beholding each
+other now as Man and Wife, she suffer'd him all the decent Freedoms he
+could wish to take; so that the Hours of this Voyage seem'd the most
+soft and charming of his Life: and doubtless they were so; every Touch
+of _Atlante_ transported him, every Look pierced his Soul, and he was
+all Raptures of Joy, when he consider'd this charming lovely Maid was
+his own.
+
+_Charlot_ all this while was gazing above-deck, admiring the Motion of
+the little Vessel, and how easily the Wind and Tide bore her up the
+River. She had never been in any thing of this kind before, and was very
+well pleas'd and entertain'd, when _Rinaldo_ call'd her down to eat;
+where they enjoy'd themselves, as well as was possible: and _Charlot_
+was wondring to see such a Content in their Eyes.
+
+But now they thought it was high time for them to return; they fancy the
+Footman missing them at Church, would go home and alarm their Father,
+and the Knight of the Ill-favour'd Countenance, as _Charlot_ call'd
+Count _Vernole_, whose Severity put their Father on a greater
+Restriction of them, than naturally he would do of himself. At the Name
+of this Count, _Rinaldo_ chang'd Colour, fearing he might be some Rival;
+and ask'd _Atlante_, if this _Vernole_ was a-kin to her? She answer'd
+no; but was a very great Friend to her Father, and one who from their
+Infancy had had a particular Concern for their Breeding, and was her
+Master for Philosophy. 'Ah! (reply'd _Rinaldo_, sighing) this Man's
+Concern must proceed from something more than Friendship for her
+Father'; and therefore conjur'd her to tell him, whether he was not a
+Lover: 'A�Lover! (reply'd _Atlante_) I assure you, he is a perfect
+Antidote against that Passion': And tho' she suffer'd his ugly Presence
+now, she should loathe and hate him, should he but name Love to her.
+
+She said, she believed she need not fear any such Persecution, since he
+was a Man who was not at all amorous; that he had too much of the Satire
+in his Humour, to harbour any Softness there: and Nature had form'd his
+Body to his Mind, wholly unfit for Love. And that he might set his Heart
+absolutely at rest, she assur'd him her Father had never yet propos'd
+any Marriage to her, tho' many advantageous ones were offer'd him every
+Day.
+
+The Sails being turned to carry them back from whence they came; after
+having discoursed of a thousand Things, and all of Love, and Contrivance
+to carry on their mutual Design, they with Sighs parted; _Rinaldo_
+staying behind in the Pleasure-Boat, and they going a-shore in the
+Wherry that attended: after which he cast many an amorous and sad Look,
+and perhaps was answer'd by those of _Atlante_.
+
+It was past Church-time two or three Hours, when they arrived at home,
+wholly unprepar'd with an Excuse, so absolutely was _Atlante's_ Soul
+possest with softer Business. The first Person that they met was the
+Footman, who open'd the Door, and began to cry out how long he had
+waited in the Church, and how in vain; without giving them time to
+reply. _De Pais_ came towards 'em, and with a frowning Look demanded
+where they had been? _Atlante_, who was not accustom'd to Excuses and
+Untruth, was a while at a stand; when _Charlot_ with a Voice of Joy
+cry'd out, 'Oh Sir! we have been a-board of a fine little Ship': At this
+_Atlante_ blush'd, fearing she would tell the Truth. But she proceeded
+on, and said, that they had not been above a Quarter of an Hour at
+Church, when the Lady ----, with some other Ladies and Cavaliers, were
+going out of the Church, and that spying them, they would needs have 'em
+go with 'em: My Sister, Sir, continu'd she, was very loth to go, for
+fear you should be angry; but my Lady ---- was so importunate with her
+on one side, and I on the other, because I never saw a little Ship in my
+Life, that at last we prevail'd with her: therefore, good Sir, be not
+angry. He promised them he was not. And when they came in, they found
+Count _Vernole_, who had been inspiring _De Pais_ with Severity, and
+counselled him to chide the young Ladies, for being too long absent,
+under Pretence of going to their Devotion. Nor was it enough for him to
+set the Father on, but himself with a Gravity, where Concern and Malice
+were both apparent, reproached _Atlante_ with Levity; and told her, He
+believed she had some other Motive than the Invitation of a Lady, to go
+on Ship-board; and that she had too many Lovers, not to make them doubt
+that this was a design'd thing; and that she had heard Love from some
+one, for whom it was design'd. To this she made but a short Reply, That
+if it was so, she had no reason to conceal it, since she had Sense
+enough to look after herself; and if any body had made love to her, he
+might be assur'd, it was some one whose Quality and Merit deserved to be
+heard: and with a Look of Scorn, she passed on to another Room, and left
+him silently raging within with Jealousy: Which, if before she tormented
+him, this Declaration increas'd it to a pitch not to be conceal'd. And
+this Day he said so much to the Father, that he resolv'd forthwith to
+send _Charlot_ to a Nunnery: and accordingly the next day he bid her
+prepare to go. _Charlot_, who was not yet arrived to the Years of
+Distinction, did not much regret it; and having no Trouble but leaving
+her Sister, she prepared to go to a Nunnery, not many Streets from that
+where she dwelt. The Lady Abbess was her Father's Kinswoman, and had
+treated her very well, as often as she came to visit her: so that with
+Satisfaction enough, she was condemned to a Monastick Life, and was now
+going for her Probation-Year. _Atlante_ was troubled at her Departure,
+because she had no body to bring and to carry Letters between _Rinaldo_
+and she: however, she took her leave of her, and promis'd to come and
+see her as often as she should be permitted to go abroad; for she fear'd
+now some Constraint extraordinary would be put upon her: and so it
+happened.
+
+_Atlante's_ Chamber was that to which the Balcony belong'd; and tho' she
+durst not appear there in the Daytime, she could in the Night, and that
+way give her Lover as many Hours of Conversation as she pleased, without
+being perceiv'd: But how to give _Rinaldo_ notice of this, she could not
+tell; who not knowing _Charlot_ was gone to a Monastery, waited many
+days at his Window to see her: at last, they neither of them knowing who
+to trust with any Message, one day, when he was, as usual upon his
+watch, he saw _Atlante_ step into the Balcony, who having a Letter, in
+which she had put a piece of Lead, she tost it into his Window, whose
+Casement was open, and run in again unperceived by any but himself. The
+Paper contained only this:
+
+  _My Chamber is that which looks into the Balcony; from whence, tho'
+  I�cannot converse with you in the Day, I�can at Night, when I am
+  retired to go to bed: therefore be at your Window. +Farewel+._
+
+There needed no more to make him a diligent Watcher: and accordingly she
+was no sooner retired to her Chamber, but she would come into the
+Balcony, where she fail'd not to see him attending at his Window. This
+happy Contrivance was thus carry'd on for many Nights, where they
+entertain'd one another with all the Endearment that two Hearts could
+dictate, who were perfectly united and assur'd of each other; and this
+pleasing Conversation would often last till Day appear'd, and forced
+them to part.
+
+But old _Bellyaurd_ perceiving his Son frequent that Chamber more than
+usual, fancy'd something extraordinary must be the Cause of it; and one
+night asking for his Son, his Valet told him, he was gone into the great
+Chamber, so this was called: _Bellyaurd_ asked the Valet what he did
+there; he told him he could not tell; for often he had lighted him
+thither, and that his Master would take the Candle from him at the
+Chamber-Door, and suffer him to go no farther. Tho' the old Gentleman
+could not imagine what Affairs he could have alone every Night in that
+Chamber, he had a Curiosity to see: and one unlucky Night, putting off
+his Shoes, he came to the Door of the Chamber, which was open; he
+enter'd softly, and saw the Candle set in the Chimney, and his Son at a
+great open Bay-Window: he stopt awhile to wait when he would turn, but
+finding him unmoveable, he advanced something farther, and at last heard
+the soft Dialogue of Love between him and _Atlante_, whom he knew to be
+she, by his often calling her by her Name in their Discourse. He heard
+enough to confirm him how Matters went; and unseen as he came, he
+returned, full of Indignation, and thought how to prevent so great an
+Evil, as this Passion of his Son might produce: at first he thought to
+round him severely in the Ear about it, and upbraid him for doing the
+only thing he had thought fit to forbid him; but then he thought that
+would but terrify him for awhile, and he would return again, where he
+had so great an Inclination, if he were near her; he therefore resolves
+to send him to _Paris_, that by Absence he might forget the young Beauty
+that had charm'd his Youth. Therefore, without letting _Rinaldo_ know
+the Reason, and without taking Notice that he knew any thing of his
+Amour, he came to him one day, and told him, all the Masters he had for
+the improving him in noble Sciences were very dull, or very remiss: and
+that he resolved he should go for a Year or two to the Academy at
+_Paris_. To this the Son made a thousand Evasions; but the Father was
+positive, and not to be persuaded by all his Reasons: And finding he
+should absolutely displease him if he refus'd to go, and not daring to
+tell him the dear Cause of his Desire to remain at _Orleans_, he
+therefore, with a breaking Heart, consents to go, nay, resolves it, tho'
+it should be his Death. But alas! he considers that this Parting will
+not only prove the greatest Torment upon Earth to him, but that
+_Atlante_ will share in his Misfortunes also: This Thought gives him a
+double Torment, and yet he finds no Way to evade�it.
+
+The Night that finished this fatal Day, he goes again to his wonted
+Station, the Window; where he had not sighed very long, but he saw
+_Atlante_ enter the Balcony: He was not able a great while to speak to
+her, or to utter one Word. The Night was light enough to see him at the
+wonted Place; and she admires at his Silence, and demands the Reason in
+such obliging Terms as adds to his Grief; and he, with a deep Sigh,
+reply'd, 'Urge me not, my fair _Atlante_, to speak, lest by obeying you
+I give you more cause of Grief than my Silence is capable of doing': and
+then sighing again, he held his peace, and gave her leave to ask the
+Cause of these last Words. But when he made no Reply but by sighing, she
+imagin'd it much worse than indeed it was; and with a trembling and
+fainting Voice, she cried, 'Oh! _Rinaldo_, give me leave to divine that
+cruel News you are so unwilling to tell me: It is so,' added she, 'you
+are destin'd to some more fortunate Maid than _Atlante_.' At this Tears
+stopped her Speech, and she could utter no more. 'No, my dearest Charmer
+(reply'd _Rinaldo_, elevating his Voice) if that were all, you should
+see with what Fortitude I would die, rather than obey any such Commands.
+I�am vow'd yours to the last Moment of my Life; and will be yours in
+spite of all the Opposition in the World: that Cruelty I could evade,
+but cannot this that threatens me.' 'Ah! (cried _Atlante_) let Fate do
+her worst, so she still continue _Rinaldo_ mine, and keep that Faith he
+hath sworn to me entire: What can she do beside, that can afflict me?'
+'She can separate me (cried�he) for some time from _Atlante_.' 'Oh!
+(reply'd she) all Misfortunes fall so below that which I first imagin'd,
+that methinks I do not resent this, as I should otherwise have done: but
+I know, when I have a little more consider'd it, I�shall even die with
+the Grief of it; Absence being so great an Enemy to Love, and making us
+soon forget the Object belov'd: This, tho' I�never experienc'd, I�have
+heard, and fear it may be my Fate.' He then convinc'd her Fears with a
+thousand new Vows, and a thousand Imprecations of Constancy. She then
+asked him, 'If their Loves were discover'd, that he was with such haste
+to depart?' He told her, 'Nothing of that was the Cause; and he could
+almost wish it were discover'd, since he could resolutely then refuse to
+go: but it was only to cultivate his Mind more effectually than he could
+do here; 'twas the Care of his Father to accomplish him the more; and
+therefore he could not contradict it. But (said�he) I�am not sent where
+Seas shall part us, nor vast Distances of Earth, but to _Paris_, from
+whence he might come in two Days to see her again; and that he would
+expect from that Balcony, that had given him so many happy Moments, many
+more when he should come to see her.' He besought her to send him away
+with all the Satisfaction she could, which she could no otherwise do,
+than by giving him new Assurances that she would never give away that
+Right he had in her to any other Lover: She vows this with innumerable
+Tears; and is almost angry with him for questioning her Faith. He tells
+her he has but one Night more to stay, and his Grief would be
+unspeakable, if he should not be able to take a better leave of her,
+than at a Window; and that, if she would give him leave, he would by a
+Rope or two, tied together, so as it may serve for Steps, ascend her
+Balcony; he not having time to provide a Ladder of Ropes. She tells him
+she has so great a Confidence in his Virtue and Love, that she will
+refuse him nothing, tho' it would be a very bold Venture for a Maid, to
+trust her self with a passionate young Man, in silence of Night: and
+tho' she did not extort a Vow from him to secure her, she expected he
+would have a care of her Honour. He swore to her, his Love was too
+religious for so base an Attempt. There needed not many Vows to confirm
+her Faith; and it was agreed on between them, that he should come the
+next Night into her Chamber.
+
+It happen'd that Night, as it often did, that Count _Vernole_ lay with
+Monsieur _De Pais_, which was in a Ground-Room, just under that of
+_Atlante's_. As soon as she knew all were in bed, she gave the word to
+_Rinaldo_, who was attending with the Impatience of a passionate Lover
+below, under the Window; and who no sooner heard the Balcony open, but
+he ascended with some difficulty, and enter'd the Chamber, where he
+found _Atlante_ trembling with Joy and Fear: He throws himself at her
+Feet, as unable to speak as she; who nothing but blushed and bent down
+her Eyes, hardly daring to glance them towards the dear Object of her
+Desires, the Lord of all her Vows: She was asham'd to see a Man in her
+Chamber, where yet none had ever been alone, and by Night too. He saw
+her Fear, and felt her trembling; and after a thousand Sighs of Love had
+made way for Speech, he besought her to fear nothing from him, for his
+Flame was too sacred, and his Passion too holy to offer any thing but
+what Honour with Love might afford him. At last he brought her to some
+Courage, and the Roses of her fair Cheeks assum'd their wonted Colour,
+not blushing too red, nor languishing too pale. But when the
+Conversation began between them, it was the softest in the world: They
+said all that parting Lovers could say; all that Wit and Tenderness
+could express: They exchanged their Vows anew; and to confirm his, he
+tied a Bracelet of Diamonds about her Arm, and she returned him one of
+her Hair, which he had long begged, and she had on purpose made, which
+clasped together with Diamonds; this she put about his Arm, and he swore
+to carry it to his Grave. The Night was far spent in tender Vows, soft
+Sighs and Tears on both sides, and it was high time to part: but, as if
+Death had been to have arrived to them in that Minute, they both
+linger'd away the time, like Lovers who had forgot themselves; and the
+Day was near approaching when he bid farewel, which he repeated very
+often: for still he was interrupted by some commanding Softness from
+_Atlante_, and then lost all his Power of going; till she, more
+courageous and careful of his Interest and her own Fame, forc'd him from
+her: and it was happy she did, for he was no sooner got over the
+Balcony, and she had flung him down his Rope, and shut the Door, but
+_Vernole_, whom Love and Contrivance kept waking, fancy'd several times
+he heard a Noise in _Atlante's_ Chamber. And whether in passing over the
+Balcony, _Rinaldo_ made any Noise or not, or whether it were still his
+jealous Fancy, he came up in his Night-Gown, with a Pistol in his Hand.
+_Atlante_ was not so much lost in Grief, tho' she were all in Tears, but
+she heard a Man come up, and imagin'd it had been her Father, she not
+knowing of Count _Vernole's_ lying in the House that Night; if she had,
+she possibly had taken more care to have been silent; but whoever it
+was, she could not get to bed soon enough, and therefore turn'd her self
+to her Dressing-Table, where a Candle stood, and where lay a Book open
+of the Story of _Ariadne_ and _Theseus_. The Count turning the Latch,
+enter'd halting into her Chamber in his Night-Gown clapped close about
+him, which betray'd an ill-favour'd Shape, his Night-Cap on, without a
+Perriwig, which discover'd all his lean wither'd Jaws, his pale Face,
+and his Eyes staring: and made altogether so dreadful a Figure, that
+_Atlante_, who no more dreamt of him than of a Devil, had possibly have
+rather seen the last. She gave a great Shriek, which frighted _Vernole_;
+so both stood for a while staring on each other, till both were
+recollected: He told her the Care of her Honour had brought him thither;
+and then rolling his small Eyes round the Chamber, to see if he could
+discover any body, he proceeded, and cry'd, 'Madam, if I had no other
+Motive than your being up at this time of Night, or rather of Day,
+I�could easily guess how you have been entertain'd.' 'What Insolence is
+this (said she, all in a rage) when to cover your Boldness of
+approaching my Chamber at this Hour, you would question how I have been
+entertain'd! Either explain your self, or quit my Chamber; for I do not
+use to see such terrible Objects here.' 'Possibly those you do see (said
+the Count) are indeed more agreeable, but I am afraid have not that
+Regard to your Honour as I have': And at that word he stepped to the
+Balcony, open'd it, and look'd out; but seeing no body, he shut it to
+again. This enraged _Atlante_ beyond all Patience; and snatching the
+Pistol out of his Hand, she told him, He deserved to have it aimed at
+his Head, for having the Impudence to question her Honour, or her
+Conduct; and commanded him to avoid her Chamber as he lov'd his Life,
+which she believ'd he was fonder of than of her Honour. She speaking
+this in a Tone wholly transported with Rage, and at the same time
+holding the Pistol towards him, made him tremble with Fear; and he now
+found, whether she were guilty or not, it was his turn to beg Pardon:
+For you must know, however it came to pass that his Jealousy made him
+come up in that fierce Posture, at other times _Vernole_ was the most
+tame and passive Man in the World, and one who was afraid of his own
+Shadow in the Night: He had a natural Aversion for Danger, and thought
+it below a Man of Wit, or common Sense, to be guilty of that brutal
+thing, called Courage or Fighting; His Philosophy told him, _It was safe
+sleeping in a whole Skin_; and possibly he apprehended as much Danger
+from this _Virago_, as ever he did from his own Sex. He therefore fell
+on his Knees, and besought her to hold her fair Hand, and not to suffer
+that, which was the greatest Mark of his Respect, to be the Cause of her
+Hate or Indignation. The pitiful Faces he made, and the Signs of Mortal
+Fear in him, had almost made her laugh, at least it allay'd her Anger;
+and she bid him rise and play the fool hereafter somewhere else, and not
+in her Presence; yet for once she would deign to give him this
+Satisfaction, that she was got into a Book, which had many moving
+Stories very well writ; and that she found her self so well entertain'd,
+she had forgot how the Night passed. He most humbly thanked her for this
+Satisfaction, and retired, perhaps not so well satisfied as he
+pretended.
+
+After this, he appear'd more submissive and respectful towards
+_Atlante_; and she carry'd herself more reserv'd and haughty towards
+him; which was one Reason, he would not yet discover his Passion.
+
+Thus the Time run on at _Orleans_, while _Rinaldo_ found himself daily
+languishing at _Paris_. He was indeed in the best Academy in the City,
+amongst a Number of brave and noble Youths, where all things that could
+accomplish them, were to be learn'd by those that had any Genius; but
+_Rinaldo_ had other Thoughts, and other Business: his Time was wholly
+past in the most solitary Parts of the Garden, by the melancholy
+Fountains, and in the most gloomy Shades, where he could with most
+Liberty breathe out his Passion and his Griefs. He was past the Tutorage
+of a Boy; and his Masters could not upbraid him, but found he had some
+secret Cause of Grief, which made him not mind those Exercises, which
+were the Delight of the rest: so that nothing being able to divert his
+Melancholy, which daily increased upon him, he fear'd it would bring him
+into a Fever, if he did not give himself the Satisfaction of seeing
+_Atlante_. He had no sooner thought of this, but he was impatient to put
+it in execution; he resolved to go (having very good Horses) without
+acquainting any of his Servants with it. He got a very handsom and light
+Ladder of Ropes made, which he carry'd under his Coat, and away he rid
+for _Orleans_, stay'd at a little Village, till the Darkness of the
+Night might favour his Design: And then walking about _Atlante's_
+Lodgings, till he saw a Light in her Chamber, and then making that Noise
+on his Sword, as was agreed between them, he was heard by his adorable
+_Atlante_, and suffer'd to mount her Chamber, where he would stay till
+almost break of Day, and then return to the Village, and take Horse, and
+away for _Paris_ again. This, once in a Month, was his Exercise, without
+which he could not live; so that his whole Year was past in riding
+between _Orleans_ and _Paris_, between Excess of Grief, and Excess of
+Joy by turns.
+
+It was now that _Atlante_, arrived to her fifteenth Year, shone out with
+a Lustre of Beauty greater than ever; and in this Year, in the Absence
+of _Rinaldo_, had carry'd herself with that Severity of Life, without
+the youthful Desire of going abroad, or desiring any Diversion, but what
+she found in her own retired Thoughts, that _Vernole_, wholly unable
+longer to conceal his Passion, resolv'd to make a Publication of it,
+first to the Father, and then to the lovely Daughter, of whom he had
+some Hope, because she had carry'd her self very well towards him for
+this Year past; which she would never have done, if she had imagin'd he
+would ever have been her Lover: She had seen no Signs of any such
+Misfortune towards her in these many Years he had conversed with her,
+and she had no Cause to fear him. When one Day her Father taking her
+into the Garden, told her what Honour and Happiness was in store for
+her; and that now the Glory of his fall'n Family would rise again, since
+she had a Lover of an illustrious Blood, ally'd to Monarchs; and one
+whose Fortune was newly encreased to a very considerable Degree,
+answerable to his Birth. She changed Colour at this Discourse, imagining
+but too well who this illustrious Lover was; when _De Pais_ proceeded
+and told her, 'Indeed his Person was not the most agreeable that ever
+was seen: but he marry'd her to Glory and Fortune, not the Man: And a
+Woman (says�he) ought to look no further.'
+
+She needed not any more to inform her who this intended Husband was; and
+therefore, bursting forth into Tears, she throws herself at his Feet,
+imploring him not to use the Authority of a Father, to force her to a
+thing so contrary to her Inclination: assuring him, she could not
+consent to any such thing; and that she would rather die than yield. She
+urged many Arguments for this her Disobedience; but none would pass for
+current with the old Gentleman, whose Pride had flatter'd him with Hopes
+of so considerable a Son-in-law: He was very much surpriz'd at
+_Atlante's_ refusing what he believ'd she would receive with Joy; and
+finding that no Arguments on his Side could draw hers to an obedient
+Consent, he grew to such a Rage, as very rarely possest him: vowing, if
+she did not conform her Will to his, he would abandon her to all the
+Cruelty of Contempt and Poverty: so that at last she was forced to
+return him this Answer, 'That she would strive all she could with her
+Heart; but she verily believed she should never bring it to consent to a
+Marriage with Monsieur the Count.' The Father continued threatning her,
+and gave her some Days to consider of it: So leaving her in Tears, he
+returned to his Chamber, to consider what Answer he should give Count
+_Vernole_, who he knew would be impatient to learn what Success he had,
+and what himself was to hope. _De Pais_, after some Consideration,
+resolved to tell him, she receiv'd the Offer very well, but that he must
+expect a little Maiden-Nicety in the Case: and accordingly did tell him
+so; and he was not at all doubtful of his good Fortune.
+
+But _Atlante_, who resolved to die a thousand Deaths rather than break
+her solemn Vows to _Rinaldo_, or to marry the Count, cast about how she
+should avoid it with the least Hazard of her Father's Rage. She found
+_Rinaldo_ the better and more advantageous Match of the two, could they
+but get his Father's Consent: He was beautiful and young; his Title was
+equal to that of _Vernole_, when his Father should die; and his Estate
+exceeded his: yet she dares not make a Discovery, for fear she should
+injure her Lover; who at this Time, though she knew it not, lay sick of
+a Fever, while she was wondering that he came not as he used to do.
+However she resolves to send him a Letter, and acquaint him with the
+Misfortune; which she did in these Terms:
+
+  _ATLANTE_ to _RINALDO_.
+
+  _My Father's Authority would force me to violate my sacred Vows to
+  you, and give them to the Count +Vernole+, whom I mortally hate, yet
+  could wish him the greatest Monarch in the World, that I might shew
+  you I could even then despise him for your Sake. My Father is
+  already too much enraged by my Denial, to hear Reason from me, if I
+  should confess to him my Vows to you: So that I see nothing but a
+  Prospect of Death before me; for assure your self, my +Rinaldo+,
+  I will die rather than consent to marry any other: Therefore come my
+  +Rinaldo+, and come quickly, to see my Funerals, instead of those
+  Nuptials they vainly expect from_
+
+  Your Faithful
+  _ATLANTE_.
+
+This Letter _Rinaldo_ receiv'd; and there needed no more to make him fly
+to _Orleans_: This raised him soon from his Bed of Sickness, and getting
+immediately to horse, he arrived at his Father's House; who did not so
+much admire to see him, because he heard he was sick of a Fever, and
+gave him leave to return, if he pleas'd: He went directly to his
+Father's House, because he knew somewhat of the Business, he was
+resolv'd to make his Passion known, as soon as he had seen _Atlante_,
+from whom he was to take all his Measures: He therefore fail'd not, when
+all were in Bed, to rise and go from his Chamber into the Street; where
+finding a Light in _Atlante's_ Chamber, for she every Night expected
+him, he made the usual Sign, and she went into the Balcony; and he
+having no Conveniency of mounting up into it, they discoursed, and said
+all they had to say. From thence she tells him of the Count's Passion,
+of her Father's Resolution, and that her own was rather to die his, than
+live any Body's else: And at last, as their Refuge, they resolv'd to
+discover the whole Matter; she to her Father, and he to his, to see what
+Accommodation they could make; if not, to die together. They parted at
+this Resolve, for she would permit him no longer to stay in the Street
+after such a Sickness; so he went home to bed, but not to sleep.
+
+The next Day, at Dinner, Monsieur _Bellyaurd_ believing his Son
+absolutely cur'd, by Absence, of his Passion; and speaking of all the
+News in the Town, among the rest, told him he was come in good time to
+dance at the Wedding of Count _Vernole_ with _Atlante_, the Match being
+agreed on: 'No, Sir (reply'd _Rinaldo_) I shall never dance at the
+Marriage of Count _Vernole_ with _Atlante_; and you will see in Monsieur
+_De Pais's_ House a Funeral sooner than a Wedding.' And thereupon he
+told his Father all his Passion for that lovely Maid; and assur'd him,
+if he would not see him laid in his Grave, he must consent to this
+Match. _Bellyaurd_ rose in a Fury, and told him, 'He had rather see him
+in his Grave, than in the Arms of _Atlante_: Not (continued�he) so much
+for any Dislike I have to the young Lady, or the Smallness of her
+Fortune; but because I have so long warn'd you from such a Passion, and
+have with such Care endeavour'd by your Absence to prevent it.' He
+travers'd the Room very fast, still protesting against this Alliance:
+and was deaf to all _Rinaldo_ could say. On the other side the Day being
+come, wherein _Atlante_ was to give her final Answer to her Father
+concerning her Marriage with Count _Vernole_; she assum'd all the
+Courage and Resolution she could, to withstand the Storm that threatned
+a Denial. And her Father came to her, and demanding her Answer, she told
+him, 'She could not be the Wife of _Vernole_, since she was Wife to
+_Rinaldo_, only son to _Bellyaurd_.' If her Father storm'd before, he
+grew like a Man distracted at her Confession; and _Vernole_ hearing them
+loud, ran to the Chamber to learn the Cause; where just as he enter'd he
+found _De Pais's_ Sword drawn, and ready to kill his Daughter, who lay
+all in Tears at his Feet. He with-held his Hand; and asking the Cause of
+his Rage, he was told all that _Atlante_ had confess'd; which put
+_Vernole_ quite beside all his Gravity, and made him discover the
+Infirmity of Anger, which he used to say ought to be dissembled by all
+wise Men: So that _De Pais_ forgot his own to appease his, but 'twas in
+vain, for he went out of the House, vowing Revenge to _Rinaldo_: And to
+that end, being not very well assur'd of his own Courage, as I said
+before, and being of the Opinion, that no Man ought to expose his Life
+to him who has injur'd him; he hired _Swiss_ and _Spanish_ Soldiers to
+attend him in the nature of Footmen; and watch'd several Nights about
+_Bellyaurd's_ Door, and that of _De Pais's_, believing he should some
+time or other see him under the Window of _Atlante_, or perhaps mounting
+into it: for now he no longer doubted, but this happy Lover was he, whom
+he fancy'd he heard go from the Balcony that Night he came up with his
+Pistol; and being more a _Spaniard_ than a _Frenchman_ in his Nature, he
+resolv'd to take him any way unguarded or unarm'd, if he came in his
+Way.
+
+_Atlante_, who heard his Threatnings when he went from her in a Rage,
+fear'd his Cowardice might put him on some base Action, to deprive
+_Rinaldo_ of his Life; and therefore thought it not safe to suffer him
+to come to her by Night, as he had before done; but sent him word in a
+Note, that he should forbear her Window, for _Vernole_ had sworn his
+Death. This Note came, unseen by his Father, to his Hands: but this
+could not hinder him from coming to her Window, which he did as soon as
+it was dark: he came thither, only attended with his Valet, and two
+Footmen; for now he car'd not who knew the Secret. He had no sooner made
+the Sign, but he found himself incompass'd with _Vernole's_ Bravoes; and
+himself standing at a distance cry'd out, 'That is he': With that they
+all drew on both sides, and _Rinaldo_ receiv'd a Wound in his Arm.
+_Atlante_ heard this, and ran crying out, 'That _Rinaldo_, prest by
+Numbers, would be kill'd.' _De Pais_, who was reading in his Closet,
+took his Sword, and ran out; and, contrary to all Expectation, seeing
+_Rinaldo_ fighting with his Back to the Door, pull'd him into the House,
+and fought himself with the Bravoes: who being very much wounded by
+_Rinaldo_, gave ground, and sheer'd off; and _De Pais_, putting up old
+_Bilbo_ into the Scabbard, went into his House, where he found _Rinaldo_
+almost fainting with loss of Blood, and _Atlante_, with her Maids
+binding up his Wound; to whom _De Pais_ said, 'This charity, _Atlante_,
+very well becomes you, and is what I can allow you; and I could wish you
+had no other Motive for this Action.' _Rinaldo_ by degrees recover'd of
+his Fainting, and as well as his Weakness would permit him, he got up
+and made a low Reverence to _De Pais_, telling him, 'He had now a double
+Obligation to pay him all the Respect in the World; first, for his being
+the Father of _Atlante_; and secondly, for being the Preserver of his
+Life: two Tyes that should eternally oblige him to love and honour him,
+as his own Parent.' _De Pais_ reply'd, 'He had done nothing but what
+common Humanity compell'd him to do: But if he would make good that
+Respect he profess'd towards him, it must be in quitting all Hopes of
+_Atlante_, whom he had destin'd to another, or an eternal Inclosure in a
+Monastery: He had another Daughter, whom if he would think worthy of his
+Regard, he should take his Alliance as a very great Honour; but his Word
+and Reputation, nay his Vows were past, to give _Atlante_ to Count
+_Vernole_.' _Rinaldo_, who before he spoke took measure from _Atlante's_
+Eyes, which told him her Heart was his, return'd this Answer to _De
+Pais_, 'That he was infinitely glad to find by the Generosity of his
+Offer, that he had no Aversion against his being his Son-in-law; and
+that, next to _Atlante_, the greatest Happiness he could wish would be
+his receiving _Charlot_ from his Hand; but that he could not think of
+quitting _Atlante_, how necessary soever it would be, for Glory, and
+his--(the further) Repose.' _De Pais_ would not let him at this time
+argue the matter further, seeing he was ill, and had need of looking
+after; he therefore begg'd he would for his Health's sake retire to his
+own House, whither he himself conducted him, and left him to the Care of
+his Men, who were escap'd the Fray; and returning to his own Chamber, he
+found _Atlante_ retir'd, and so he went to bed full of Thoughts. This
+Night had increas'd his Esteem for _Rinaldo_, and lessen'd it for Count
+_Vernole_; but his Word and Honour being past, he could not break it,
+neither with Safety nor Honour: for he knew the haughty resenting Nature
+of the Count, and he fear'd some Danger might arrive to the brave
+_Rinaldo_, which troubled him very much. At last he resolv'd, that
+neither might take any thing ill at his Hands, to lose _Atlante_, and
+send her to the Monastery where her Sister was, and compel her to be a
+Nun. This he thought would prevent Mischiefs on both sides; and
+accordingly, the next Day, (having in the Morning sent Word to the Lady
+Abbess what he would have done) he carries _Atlante_, under pretence of
+visiting her Sister, (which they often did) to the Monastery, where she
+was no sooner come, but she was led into the Inclosure: Her Father had
+rather sacrifice her, than she should be the Cause of the Murder of two
+such noble Men as _Vernole_ and _Rinaldo_.
+
+The Noise of _Atlante's_ being inclos'd, was soon spread all over the
+busy Town, and _Rinaldo_ was not the last to whom the News arriv'd: He
+was for a few Days confin'd to his Chamber; where, when alone, he rav'd
+like a Man distracted; But his Wounds had so incens'd his Father against
+_Atlante_, that he swore he would see his Son die of them, rather than
+suffer him to marry _Atlante_; and was extremely overjoy'd to find she
+was condemn'd, for ever, to the Monastery. So that the Son thought it
+the wisest Course, and most for the advantage of his Love, to say
+nothing to contradict his Father; but being almost assur'd _Atlante_
+would never consent to be shut up in a Cloyster, and abandon him, he
+flatter'd himself with hope, that he should steal her from thence, and
+marry her in spite of all Opposition. This he was impatient to put in
+practice: He believ'd, if he were not permitted to see _Atlante_, he had
+still a kind Advocate in _Charlot_, who was now arriv'd to her
+Thirteenth Year, and infinitely advanc'd in Wit and Beauty. _Rinaldo_
+therefore often goes to the Monastery, surrounding it, to see what
+Possibility there was of accomplishing his Design; if he could get her
+Consent, he finds it not impossible, and goes to visit _Charlot_; who
+had command not to see him, or speak to him. This was a Cruelty he
+look'd not for, and which gave him an unspeakable Trouble, and without
+her Aid it was wholly impossible to give _Atlante_ any account of his
+Design. In this Perplexity he remain'd many Days, in which he languish'd
+almost to Death; he was distracted with Thought, and continually
+hovering about the Nunnery-Walls, in hope, at some time or other, to see
+or hear from that lovely Maid, who alone could make his Happiness. In
+these Traverses he often met _Vernole_, who had Liberty to see her when
+he pleas'd: If it happen'd that they chanc'd to meet in the Daytime,
+tho' _Vernole_ was attended with an Equipage of Ruffians, and _Rinaldo_
+but only with a couple of Footmen, he could perceive _Vernole_ shun him,
+grow pale, and almost tremble with Fear sometimes, and get to the other
+Side of the Street; and if he did not, _Rinaldo_ having a mortal Hate to
+him, would often bear up so close to him, that he would jostle him
+against the Wall, which _Vernole_ would patiently put up, and pass on;
+so that he could never be provok'd to fight by Day-light, how solitary
+soever the Place was where they met: but if they chanc'd to meet at
+Night, they were certain of a Skirmish, in which he would have no part
+himself; so that _Rinaldo_ was often like to be assassinated, but still
+came off with some slight Wound. This continu'd so long, and made so
+great a Noise in the Town, that the two old Gentlemen were mightily
+alarm'd by it; and Count _Bellyaurd_ came to _De Pais_, one Day, to
+discourse with him of this Affair; and _Bellyaurd_, for the Preservation
+of his Son, was almost consenting, since there was no Remedy, that he
+should marry _Atlante_. _De Pais_ confess'd the Honour he proffer'd him,
+and how troubled he was, that his Word was already past to his Friend,
+the Count _Vernole_, whom he said she should marry, or remain for ever a
+Nun; but if _Rinaldo_ could displace his Love from _Atlante_, and place
+it on _Charlot_, he should gladly consent to the Match. _Bellyaurd_, who
+would now do anything for the Repose of his Son, tho' he believ'd this
+Exchange would not pass, yet resolv'd to propose it, since by marrying
+him he took him out of the Danger of _Vernole's_ Assassinates, who would
+never leave him till they had dispatch'd him, should he marry _Atlante_.
+
+While _Rinaldo_ was contriving a thousand ways to come to speak to, or
+send Billets to _Atlante_, none of which could succeed without the Aid
+of _Charlot_, his Father came and propos'd this Agreement between _De
+Pais_ and himself, to his Son. At first _Rinaldo_ receiv'd it with a
+chang'd Countenance, and a breaking Heart; but swiftly turning from
+Thought to Thought, he conceiv'd this the only way to come at _Charlot_,
+and so consequently at _Atlante_: he therefore, after some dissembled
+Regret, consents, with a sad put-on Look: And _Charlot_ had Notice given
+her to see and entertain _Rinaldo_. As yet they had not told her the
+Reason; which her Father would tell her, when he came to visit her, he
+said. _Rinaldo_ over-joy'd at this Contrivance, and his own
+Dissimulation, goes to the Monastery, and visits _Charlot_; where he
+ought to have said something of this Proposition: but wholly bent upon
+other Thoughts, he sollicits her to convey some Letters, and Presents to
+_Atlante_; which she readily did, to the unspeakable Joy of the poor
+Distrest. Sometimes he would talk to _Charlot_ of her own Affairs;
+asking her, if she resolv'd to become a Nun? To which she would sigh,
+and say, If she must, it would be extremely against her Inclinations;
+and, if it pleas'd her Father, she had rather begin the World with any
+tolerable Match.
+
+Things past thus for some Days, in which our Lovers were happy, and
+_Vernole_ assur'd he should have _Atlante_. But at last _De Pais_ came
+to visit _Charlot_, who ask'd her, if she had seen _Rinaldo_? She
+answer'd, 'She had.' 'And how does he entertain you? (reply'd _De Pais_)
+Have you receiv'd him as a Husband? and has he behav'd himself like
+one?' At this a sudden Joy seiz'd the Heart of _Charlot_; and both to
+confess what she had done for him to her Sister, she hung down her
+blushing Face to study for an Answer. _De Pais_ continued, and told her
+the Agreement between _Bellyaurd_ and him, for the saving of Bloodshed.
+
+She, who blest the Cause, whatever it was, having always a great
+Friendship and Tenderness for _Rinaldo_, gave her Father a thousand
+Thanks for his Care; and assur'd him, since she was commanded by him,
+she would receive him as her Husband.
+
+And the next Day, when _Rinaldo_ came to visit her, as he us'd to do,
+and bringing a Letter with him, wherein he propos'd the flight of
+_Atlante_; he found a Coldness in _Charlot_, as soon as he told her his
+Design, and desir'd her to carry the Letter. He ask'd the Reason of this
+Change: She tells him she was inform'd of the Agreement between their
+two Fathers, and that she look'd upon herself as his Wife, and would act
+no more as a Confident; that she had ever a violent Inclination of
+Friendship for him, which she would soon improve into something more
+soft.
+
+He could not deny the Agreement, nor his Promise; but it was in vain to
+tell her, he did it only to get a Correspondence with _Atlante_: She is
+obstinate, and he as pressing, with all the Tenderness of Persuasion: He
+vows he can never be any but _Atlante's_, and she may see him die, but
+never break his Vows. She urges her Claim in vain, so that at last she
+was overcome, and promised she would carry the Letter; which was to have
+her make her Escape that Night. He waits at the Gate for her Answer, and
+_Charlot_ returns with one that pleased him very well; which was, that
+Night her Sister would make her Escape, and that he must stand in such a
+Place of the Nunnery-Wall, and she would come out to him.
+
+After this she upbraids him with his false Promise to her, and of her
+Goodness to serve him after such a Disappointment. He receives her
+Reproaches with a thousand Sighs, and bemoans her Misfortune in not
+being capable of more than Friendship for her; and vows, that next
+_Atlante_, he esteems her of all Womankind. She seems to be obliged by
+this, and assured him, she would hasten the Flight of _Atlante_; and
+taking leave, he went home to order a Coach, and some Servants to assist
+him.
+
+In the mean time Count _Vernole_ came to visit _Atlante_; but she
+refused to be seen by him: And all he could do there that Afternoon, was
+entertaining _Charlot_ at the Grate; to whom he spoke a great many fine
+Things, both of her improved Beauty and Wit; and how happy _Rinaldo_
+would be in so fair a Bride. She received this with all the Civility
+that was due to his Quality; and their Discourse being at an End, he
+took his Leave, being towards the Evening.
+
+_Rinaldo_, wholly impatient, came betimes to the Corner of the dead
+Wall, where he was appointed to stand, having ordered his Footmen and
+Coach to come to him as soon it was dark. While he was there walking up
+and down, _Vernole_ came by the End of the Wall to go home; and looking
+about, he saw, at the other End, _Rinaldo_ walking, whose Back was
+towards him, but he knew him well; and tho' he feared and dreaded his
+Business there, he durst not encounter him, they being both attended but
+by one Footman a-piece. But _Vernole's_ Jealousy and Indignation were so
+high, that he resolved to fetch his Bravoes to his Aid, and come and
+assault him: For he knew he waited there for some Message from
+_Atlante_.
+
+In the mean Time it grew dark, and _Rinaldo_'s Coach came with another
+Footman; which were hardly arrived, when _Vernole_, with his Assistants,
+came to the Corner of the Wall, and skreening themselves a little behind
+it, near to the Place where _Rinaldo_ stood, who waited now close to a
+little Door, out of which the Gardeners used to throw the Weeds and
+Dirt, _Vernole_ could perceive anon the Door to open, and a Woman come
+out of it, calling _Rinaldo_ by his Name, who stept up to her, and
+caught her in his Arms with Signs of infinite Joy. _Vernole_ being now
+all Rage, cry'd to his Assassinates, 'Fall on, and kill the Ravisher':
+And immediately they all fell on. _Rinaldo_, who had only his two
+Footmen on his Side, was forc'd to let go the Lady; who would have run
+into the Garden again, but the Door fell to and lock'd: so that while
+_Rinaldo_ was fighting, and beaten back by the Bravoes, one of which he
+laid dead at his Feet, _Vernole_ came to the frighted Lady, and taking
+her by the Hand, cry'd, 'Come, my fair Fugitive, you must go along with
+me.' She wholly scar'd out of her Senses, was willing to go any where
+out of the Terror she heard so near her, and without Reply, gave her
+self into his Hand, who carried her directly to her Father's House;
+where she was no sooner come, but he told her Father all that had past,
+and how she was running away with _Rinaldo_, but that his good Fortune
+brought him just in the lucky Minute. Her Father turning to reproach
+her, found by the Light of a Candle that this was _Charlot_, and not
+_Atlante_, whom _Vernole_ had brought Home: At which _Vernole_ was
+extremely astonish'd. Her Father demanded of her why she was running
+away with a Man, who was design'd her by Consent? 'Yes, (said _Charlot_)
+you had his Consent, Sir, and that of his Father; but I was far from
+getting it: I�found he resolv'd to die rather than quit _Atlante_; and
+promising him my Assistance in his Amour, since he could never be mine,
+he got me to carry a Letter to _Atlante_; which was, to desire her to
+fly away with him. Instead of carrying her this Letter, I�told her, he
+was design'd for me, and had cancell'd all his Vows to her: She swoon'd
+at this News; and being recover'd a little, I�left her in the Hands of
+the Nuns, to persuade her to live; which she resolves not to do without
+_Rinaldo_. Tho' they press'd me, yet I resolv'd to pursue my Design,
+which was to tell _Rinaldo_ she would obey his kind Summons. He waited
+for her; but I put my self into his Hands in lieu of _Atlante_; and had
+not the Count receiv'd me, we had been marry'd by this time, by some
+false Light that could not have discover'd me: But I am satisfied, if I
+had, he would never have liv'd with me longer than the Cheat had been
+undiscover'd; for I find them both resolved to die, rather than change.
+And for my part, Sir, I�was not so much in Love with _Rinaldo_, as I was
+out of love with the Nunnery; and took any Opportunity to quit a Life
+absolutely contrary to my Humour.' She spoke this with a Gaiety so
+brisk, and an Air so agreeable, that _Vernole_ found it touch'd his
+Heart; and the rather because he found _Atlante_ would never be his; or
+if she were, he should be still in Danger from the Resentment of
+_Rinaldo_: he therefore bowing to _Charlot_, and taking her by the Hand,
+cry'd, 'Madam, since Fortune has dispos'd you thus luckily for me, in my
+Possession, I�humbly implore you would consent she should make me
+entirely happy, and give me the Prize for which I fought, and have
+conquer'd with my Sword.' 'My Lord, (reply'd _Charlot_, with a modest
+Air) I�am superstitious enough to believe, since Fortune, so contrary to
+all our Designs, has given me into your Hands, that she from the
+beginning destin'd me to the Honour, which, with my Father's Consent,
+I�shall receive as becomes me.' _De Pais_ transported with Joy, to find
+all Things would be so well brought about, it being all one to him,
+whether _Charlot_ or _Atlante_ gave him Count _Vernole_ for his
+Son-in-law, readily consented; and immediately a Priest was sent for,
+and they were that Night marry'd. And it being now not above seven
+o'Clock, many of their Friends were invited, the Musick sent for, and as
+good a Supper as so short a Time would provide, was made ready.
+
+All this was perform'd in as short a time as _Rinaldo_ was fighting; and
+having kill'd one, and wounded the rest, they all fled before his
+conquering Sword, which was never drawn with so good a Will. When he
+came where his Coach stood, just against the Back-Garden-Door, he looked
+for his Mistress: But the Coachman told him, he was no sooner engaged,
+but a Man came, and with a thousand Reproaches on her Levity, bore her
+off.
+
+This made our young Lover rave; and he is satisfied she is in the Hands
+of his Rival, and that he had been fighting, and shedding his Blood,
+only to secure her Flight with him. He lost all Patience, and it was
+with much ado his Servants persuaded him to return; telling him in their
+Opinion, she was more likely to get out of the Hands of his Rival, and
+come to him, than when she was in the Monastery.
+
+He suffers himself to go into his Coach and be carry'd home; but he was
+no sooner alighted, than he heard Musick and Noise at _De Pais's_ House.
+He saw Coaches surround his Door, and Pages and Footmen, with Flambeaux.
+The Sight and Noise of Joy made him ready to sink at the Door; and
+sending his Footmen to learn the Cause of this Triumph, the Pages that
+waited told him, That Count _Vernole_ was this Night married to Monsieur
+_De Pais's_ Daughter. He needed no more to deprive him of all Sense; and
+staggering against his Coach, he was caught by his Footmen and carried
+into his House, and to his Chamber, where they put him to Bed, all
+sensless as he was, and had much ado to recover him to Life. He ask'd
+for his Father, with a faint Voice, for he desir'd to see him before he
+died. It was told him he was gone to Count _Vernole's_ Wedding, where
+there was a perfect Peace agreed on between them, and all their
+Animosities laid aside. At this News _Rinaldo_ fainted again; and his
+Servants call'd his Father home, and told him in what Condition they had
+brought home their Master, recounting to him all that was past. He
+hasten'd to _Rinaldo_, whom he found just recover'd of his Swooning;
+who, putting his Hand out to his Father, all cold and trembling, cry'd,
+'Well, Sir, now you are satisfied, since you have seen _Atlante_ married
+to Count _Vernole_, I hope now you will give your unfortunate Son leave
+to die; as you wish'd he should, rather than give him to the Arms of
+_Atlante_.' Here his Speech fail'd, and he fell again into a Fit of
+Swooning; His Father ready to die with fear of his Son's Death, kneel'd
+down by his Bed-side; and after having recover'd a little, he said, 'My
+dear Son, I�have been indeed at the Wedding of Count _Vernole_, but 'tis
+not _Atlante_ to whom he is married, but _Charlot_; who was the Person
+you were bearing from the Monastery, instead of _Atlante_, who is still
+reserv'd for you, and she is dying till she hear you are reserv'd for
+her; Therefore, as you regard her Life, make much of your own, and make
+your self fit to receive her; for her Father and I have agreed the
+Marriage already.' And without giving him leave to think, he call'd to
+one of his Gentlemen, and sent him to the Monastery, with this News to
+_Atlante_. _Rinaldo_ bowed himself as low as he could in his Bed, and
+kiss'd the Hand of his Father, with Tears of Joy: But his Weakness
+continued all the next Day; and they were fain to bring _Atlante_ to
+him, to confirm his Happiness.
+
+It must only be guessed by Lovers, the perfect Joy these two receiv'd in
+the sight of each other. _Bellyaurd_ received her as his Daughter; and
+the next Day made her so, with very great Solemnity, at which were
+_Vernole_ and _Charlot_: Between _Rinaldo_ and him was concluded a
+perfect Peace, and all thought themselves happy in this double Union.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Lucky Mistake.
+
+
+p. 351 This Dedication only appears in the first edition (12mo, 1689),
+'for R.�Bentley'. George Granville or Grenville,[1] Lord Lansdowne, the
+celebrated wit, dramatist and poet, was born in 1667. Having zealously
+offered in 1688 to defend James II, during the subsequent reign he
+perforce 'lived in literary retirement'. He then wrote _The She
+Gallants_ (1696, and 4to, 1696), an excellent comedy full of jest and
+spirit. Offending, however, some ladies 'who set up for chastity' it
+made its exit. Granville afterwards revived it as _Once a Lover and
+Always a Lover_. _Heroick Love_, a tragedy (1698), had great success.
+_The Jew of Venice_ (1701), is a piteously weak adaption of _The
+Merchant of Venice_. A short masque, _Peleus and Thetis_ accompanies the
+play. _The British Enchanters_, an opera (1706), is a pleasing piece,
+and was very well received. At the accession of Queen Anne, Granville
+entered the political arena and attained considerable offices of state.
+Suspected of being an active Jacobite he was, under George�I, imprisoned
+from 25 September, 1715, till 8 February, 1717. In 1722 he went abroad,
+and lived in Paris for ten years. In 1732 he returned and published a
+finely printed edition of his complete _Works_ (2�Vols., 4to, 1732; and
+again, 3�Vols., 1736, 12mo). He died 30 January, 1735, and is buried in
+St. Clement Danes.
+
+p. 398 _double Union_. In a collection of Novels with running title:
+_The Deceived Lovers_ (1696), we find No. V _The Curtezan Deceived_, 'An
+Addition to The Lucky Mistake, Written by Mrs. A.�Behn.' This
+introduction of Mrs. Behn's name was a mere bookseller's trick to catch
+the unwary reader. _The Curtezan Deceived_ is of no value. It has
+nothing to do with Aphra's work and is as commonplace a little novel as
+an hundred others of its day.
+
+    [Footnote 1: The spelling 'Greenvil' 'Greenviel' is incorrect.]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE; OR, THE BLIND LADY A BEAUTY.
+
+
+
+
+  TO RICHARD NORTON, OF SOUTHWICK IN HANTSHIRE, ESQUIRE.
+
+  Honour'd Sir,
+
+Eminent Wit, Sir, no more than Eminent Beauty, can escape the Trouble
+and Presumption of Addresses; and that which can strike every body with
+Wonder, can never avoid the Praise which naturally flows from that
+Wonder: And Heaven is forc'd to hear the Addresses as well as praises of
+the Poor as Rich, of the Ignorant as Learned, and takes, nay rewards,
+the officious tho' perhaps impertinent Zeal of its least qualify'd
+Devotees. Wherefore, Sir, tho' your Merits meet with the Applause of the
+Learned and Witty, yet your Generosity will judge favourably of the
+untaught Zeal of an humbler Admirer, since what I do your eminent
+Vertues compel. The Beautiful will permit the most despicable of their
+Admirers to love them, tho' they never intend to make him happy, as
+unworthy their Love, but they will not be angry at the fatal Effect of
+their own Eyes.
+
+But what I want in my self, Sir, to merit your Regard, I hope my
+Authoress will in some measure supply, so far at least to lessen my
+Presumption in prefixing your Name to a Posthumous Piece of hers, whom
+all the Men of Wit, that were her Contemporaries, look'd on as the
+Wonder of her Sex; and in none of her Performances has she shew'd so
+great a Mastery as in her Novels, where Nature always prevails; and if
+they are not true, they are so like it, that they do the business every
+jot as well.
+
+This I hope, Sir, will induce you to pardon my Presumption in dedicating
+this Novel to you, and declaring my self, Sir,
+
+  Your most obedient
+    and most humble Servant,
+      S. Briscoe.
+
+
+
+
+THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE: or, The Blind Lady a Beauty.
+
+
+_Frankwit_ and _Wildvill_, were two young Gentlemen of very considerable
+Fortunes, both born in _Staffordshire_, and, during their Minority, both
+educated together, by which Opportunity they contracted a very
+inviolable Friendship, a�Friendship which grew up with them; and though
+it was remarkably known to every Body else, they knew it not themselves;
+they never made Profession of it in Words, but Actions; so true a Warmth
+their Fires could boast, as needed not the Effusion of their Breath to
+make it live. _Wildvill_ was of the richest Family, but _Frankwit_ of
+the noblest; _Wildvill_ was admired for outward Qualifications, as
+Strength, and manly Proportions, _Frankwit_ for a much softer Beauty,
+for his inward Endowments, Pleasing in his Conversation, of a free, and
+moving Air, humble in his Behaviour, and if he had any Pride, it was but
+just enough to shew that he did not affect Humility; his Mind bowed with
+a Motion as unconstrained as his Body, nor did he force this Vertue in
+the least, but he allowed it only. So aimable he was, that every Virgin
+that had Eyes, knew too she had a Heart, and knew as surely she should
+lose it. His _Cupid_ could not be reputed blind, he never shot for him,
+but he was sure to wound. As every other Nymph admired him, so he was
+dear to all the Tuneful Sisters; the Muses were fired with him as much
+as their own radiant God _Apollo_; their loved Springs and Fountains
+were not so grateful to their Eyes as he, him they esteemed their
+_Helicon_ and _Parnassus_ too; in short, when ever he pleased, he could
+enjoy them all. Thus he enamour'd the whole Female Sex, but amongst all
+the sighing Captives of his Eyes, _Belvira_ only boasted Charms to move
+him; her Parents lived near his, and even from their Childhood they felt
+mutual Love, as if their Eyes, at their first meeting, had struck out
+such Glances, as had kindled into amorous Flame. And now _Belvira_ in
+her fourteenth Year, (when the fresh Spring of young Virginity began to
+cast more lively Bloomings in her Cheeks, and softer Longings in her
+Eyes) by her indulgent Father's Care was sent to _London_ to a Friend,
+her Mother being lately dead: When, as if Fortune ordered it so,
+_Frankwit's_ Father took a Journey to the other World, to let his Son
+the better enjoy the Pleasures and Delights of this: The young Lover now
+with all imaginable haste interred his Father, nor did he shed so many
+Tears for his Loss, as might in the least quench the Fire which he
+received from his _Belvira's_ Eyes, but (Master of seventeen Hundred
+Pounds a Year, which his Father left him) with all the Wings of Love
+flies to _London_, and sollicits _Belvira_ with such Fervency, that it
+might be thought he meant Death's Torch should kindle _Hymen's_; and now
+as soon as he arrives at his Journey's end, he goes to pay a Visit to
+the fair Mistress of his Soul, and assures her, That tho' he was absent
+from her, yet she was still with him; and that all the Road he
+travell'd, her beauteous Image danced before him, and like the ravished
+Prophet, he saw his Deity in every Bush; in short, he paid her constant
+Visits, the Sun ne'er rose or set, but still he saw it in her Company,
+and every Minute of the Day he counted by his Sighs. So incessantly he
+importuned her that she could no longer hold out, and was pleased in the
+surrender of her Heart, since it was he was Conqueror; and therefore
+felt a Triumph in her yielding. Their Flames now joyned, grew more and
+more, glowed in their Cheeks, and lightened in their Glances: Eager they
+looked, as if there were Pulses beating in their Eyes; and all
+endearing, at last she vowed, that _Frankwit_ living she would ne'er be
+any other Man's. Thus they past on some time, while every Day rowl'd
+over fair; Heaven showed an Aspect all serene, and the Sun seemed to
+smile at what was done. He still caressed his Charmer, with an Innocence
+becoming his Sincerity; he lived upon her tender Breath, and basked in
+the bright Lustre of her Eyes, with Pride, and secret Joy.
+
+He saw his Rivals languish for that Bliss, those Charms, those Raptures
+and extatick Transports, which he engrossed alone. But now some eighteen
+Months (some Ages in a Lover's Kalendar) winged with Delights, and fair
+_Belvira_ now grown fit for riper Joys, knows hardly how she can deny
+her pressing Lover, and herself, to crown their Vows, and joyn their
+Hands as well as Hearts. All this while the young Gallant wash'd himself
+clean of that shining Dirt, his Gold; he fancied little of Heaven dwelt
+in his yellow Angels, but let them fly away, as it were on their own
+golden Wings; he only valued the smiling Babies in _Belvira's_ Eyes. His
+Generosity was boundless, as his Love, for no Man ever truly loved, that
+was not generous. He thought his Estate, like his Passion, was a sort of
+a _Pontick_ Ocean, it could never know an Ebb; But now he found it could
+be fathom'd, and that the Tide was turning, therefore he sollicits with
+more impatience the consummation of their Joys, that both might go like
+Martyrs from their Flames immediately to Heaven; and now at last it was
+agreed between them, that they should both be one, but not without some
+Reluctancy on the Female side; for 'tis the Humour of our Sex, to deny
+most eagerly those Grants to Lovers, for which most tenderly we sigh, so
+contradictory are we to our selves, as if the Deity had made us with a
+seeming Reluctancy to his own Designs; placing as much Discords in our
+Minds, as there is Harmony in our Faces. We are a sort of aiery Clouds,
+whose Lightning flash out one way, and the Thunder another. Our Words
+and Thoughts can ne'er agree. So this young charming Lady thought her
+Desires could live in their own longings, like Misers wealth-devouring
+Eyes; and e'er she consented to her Lover, prepared him first with
+speaking Looks, and then with a fore-running Sigh, applyed to the dear
+Charmer thus: '_Frankwit_, I am afraid to venture the Matrimonial
+Bondage, it may make you think your self too much confined, in being
+only free to one.' 'Ah! my dear _Belvira_,' he replied, 'That one, like
+_Manna_, has the Taste of all, why should I be displeased to be confined
+to Paradice, when it was the Curse of our Forefathers to be set at
+large, tho' they had the whole World to roam in: You have, my love,
+ubiquitary Charms, and you are all in all, in every Part.' 'Ay, but,'
+reply'd _Belvira_, 'we are all like Perfumes, and too continual Smelling
+makes us seem to have lost our Sweets, I'll be judged by my Cousin
+_Celesia_ here, if it be not better to live still in mutual Love,
+without the last Enjoyment.' (I�had forgot to tell my Reader that
+_Celesia_ was an Heiress, the only Child of a rich _Turkey_ Merchant,
+who, when he dyed, left her Fifty thousand Pound in Money, and some
+Estate in Land; but, poor Creature, she was Blind to all these Riches,
+having been born without the use of Sight, though in all other Respects
+charming to a wonder.) 'Indeed,' says _Celesia_, (for she saw clearly in
+her Mind) 'I�admire you should ask my Judgment in such a Case, where I
+have never had the least Experience; but I believe it is but a sickly
+Soul which cannot nourish its Offspring of Desires without preying upon
+the Body.' 'Believe me,' reply'd _Frankwit_, 'I bewail your want of
+Sight, and I could almost wish you my own Eyes for a Moment, to view
+your charming Cousin, where you would see such Beauties as are too
+dazling to be long beheld; and if too daringly you gazed, you would feel
+the Misfortune of the loss of Sight, much greater than the want of it:
+And you would acknowledge, that in too presumptuously seeing, you would
+be blinder then, than now unhappily you are.'
+
+'Ah! I must confess,' reply'd _Belvira_, 'my poor, dear Cousin is Blind,
+for I fancy she bears too great an Esteem for _Frankwit_, and only longs
+for Sight to look on him.' 'Indeed,' reply'd _Celesia_, 'I would be glad
+to see _Frankwit_, for I fancy he's as dazling, as he but now describ'd
+his Mistress, and if I fancy I see him, sure I do see him, for Sight is
+Fancy, is it not? or do you feel my Cousin with your Eyes?' 'This is
+indeed, a�charming Blindness,' reply'd _Frankwit_, 'and the fancy of
+your Sight excels the certainty of ours. Strange! that there should be
+such Glances even in blindness? You, fair Maid, require not Eyes to
+conquer, if your Night has such Stars, what Sunshine would your Day of
+Sight have, if ever you should see?' 'I�fear those Stars you talk of,'
+said _Belvira_, 'have some Influence on you, and by the Compass you sail
+by now, I�guess you are steering to my Cousin. She is indeed charming
+enough to have been another Offspring of bright _Venus_, Blind like her
+Brother _Cupid_.' 'That _Cupid_,' reply'd _Celesia_, 'I am afraid has
+shot me, for methinks I would not have you marry _Frankwit_, but rather
+live as you do without the last Enjoyment, for methinks if he were
+marry'd, he would be more out of Sight than he already is.' 'Ah, Madam,'
+return'd _Frankwit_, 'Love is no Camelion, it cannot feed on Air alone.'
+'No but,' rejoyn'd _Celesia_, 'you Lovers that are not Blind like Love
+it self, have am'rous Looks to feed on.' 'Ah! believe it,' said
+_Belvira_, ''tis better, _Frankwit_, not to lose Paradice by too much
+Knowledge; Marriage Enjoyments does but wake you from your sweet golden
+Dreams: Pleasure is but a Dream, dear _Frankwit_, but a Dream, and to be
+waken'd.' 'Ah! Dearest, but unkind _Belvira_,' answer'd _Frankwit_,
+'sure there's no waking from Delight, in being lull'd on those soft
+Breasts of thine.' 'Alas! (reply'd the Bride to�be) it is that very
+lulling wakes you; Women enjoy'd, are like Romances read, or Raree-shows
+once seen, meer Tricks of the slight of Hand, which, when found out, you
+only wonder at your selves for wondering so before at them. 'Tis
+Expectation endears the Blessing; Heaven would not be Heaven, could we
+tell what 'tis. When the Plot's out you have done with the Play, and
+when the last Act's done, you see the Curtain drawn with great
+indifferency.' 'O�my _Belvira_', answered _Frankwit_, 'that Expectation
+were indeed a Monster which Enjoyment could not satisfy: I�should take
+no pleasure,' he rejoin'd, 'running from Hill to Hill, like Children
+chasing that Sun, which I could never catch.' 'O�thou shalt have it
+then, that Sun of Love,' reply'd _Belvira_, fir'd by this Complaint,
+and gently rush'd into Arms, (rejoyn'd) so _Phoebus_ rushes radiant and
+unsullied, into a gilded Cloud. 'Well then, my dear _Belvira_,' answered
+_Frankwit_, 'be assured I shall be ever yours, as you are mine; fear not
+you shall never draw Bills of Love upon me so fast, as I shall wait in
+readiness to pay them; but now I talk of Bills, I�must retire into
+_Cambridgeshire_, where I have a small Concern as yet unmortgaged,
+I�will return thence with a Brace of thousand Pounds within a Week at
+furthest, with which our Nuptials, by their Celebration, shall be worthy
+of our Love. And then, my Life, my Soul, we shall be join'd, never to
+part again.' This tender Expression mov'd _Belvira_ to shed some few
+Tears, and poor _Celesia_ thought herself most unhappy that she had not
+Eyes to weep with too; but if she had, such was the greatness of her
+Grief, that sure she would have soon grown Blind with weeping. In short,
+after a great many soft Vows, and Promises of an inviolable Faith, they
+parted with a pompous sort of pleasing Woe; their Concern was of such a
+mixture of Joy and Sadness, as the Weather seems, when it both rains and
+shines. And now the last, the very last Adieu's was over, for the
+Farewels of Lovers hardly ever end, and _Frankwit_ (the Time being
+Summer) reach'd _Cambridge_ that Night, about Nine a Clock; (Strange!
+that he should have made such Haste to fly from what so much he lov'd!)
+and now, tir'd with the fatigue of his Journey, he thought fit to
+refresh himself by writing some few Lines to his belov'd _Belvira_; for
+a little Verse after the dull Prose Company of his Servant, was as great
+an Ease to him, (from whom it flow'd as naturally and unartificially, as
+his Love or his Breath) as a Pace or Hand-gallop, after a hard, uncouth,
+and rugged Trot. He therefore, finding his _Pegasus_ was no way tir'd
+with his Land-travel, takes a short Journey thro' the Air, and writes as
+follows:
+
+  _My dearest dear +Belvira+,_
+
+  You knew my Soul, you knew it yours before,
+  I told it all, and now can tell no more;
+  Your Presents never wants fresh Charms to move,     }
+  But now more strange, and unknown Pow'r you prove,  }
+  For now your very Absence 'tis I love.              }
+  Something there is which strikes my wandring View,
+  And still before my Eyes I fancy you.
+  Charming you seem, all charming, heavenly fair,  }
+  Bright as a Goddess, does my Love appear,        }
+  You seem, _Belvira_, what indeed you are.        }
+  Like the Angelick Off-spring of the Skies,
+  With beatifick Glories in your Eyes:
+  Sparkling with radiant Lustre all Divine,             }
+  Angels, and Gods! oh Heavens! how bright they shine!  }
+  Are you _Belvira_? can I think you mine!              }
+  Beyond ev'n Thought, I do thy Beauties see,
+  Can such a Heaven of Heavens be kept for me!
+  Oh be assur'd, I shall be ever true,
+  I must----
+  For if I would, I can't be false to you.
+  Oh! how I wish I might no longer stay,       }
+  Tho' I resolve I will no Time delay,         }
+  One Tedious Week, and then I'll fleet away.  }
+  Tho' Love be blind, he shall conduct my Road,  }
+  Wing'd with almighty Love, to your Abode,      }
+  I'll fly, and grow Immortal as a God.          }
+  Short is my stay, yet my impatience strong,
+  Short tho' it is, alas! I think it long.
+  I'll come, my Life, new Blessings to pursue,        }
+  Love then shall fly a Flight he never flew,         }
+  I'll stretch his balmy Wings; I'm yours,--_Adieu_.  }
+
+  _Frankwit._
+
+This Letter _Belvira_ receiv'd with unspeakable Joy, and laid it up
+safely in her Bosom; laid it, where the dear Author of it lay before,
+and wonderfully pleas'd with his Humour of writing Verse, resolv'd not
+to be at all behind-hand with him, and so writ as follows:
+
+  _My dear Charmer,_
+
+  You knew before what Power your Love could boast,
+  But now your constant Faith confirms me most.
+  Absent Sincerity the best assures,              }
+  Love may do much, but Faith much more allures,  }
+  For now your Constancy has bound me yours.      }
+  I find, methinks, in Verse some Pleasure too,
+  I cannot want a Muse, who write to you.
+  Ah! soon return, return, my charming Dear,
+  Heav'n knows how much we Mourn your Absence here:
+  My poor _Celesia_ now would Charm your Soul,
+  Her Eyes, once Blind, do now Divinely rowl.
+  An aged Matron has by Charms unknown,
+  Given her clear Sight as perfect as thy own.
+  And yet, beyond her Eyes, she values thee,
+  'Tis for thy Sake alone she's glad to see.
+  She begg'd me, pray remember her to you,
+  That is a Task which now I gladly do.
+  Gladly, since so I only recommend                }
+  A dear Relation, and a dearer Friend,            }
+  Ne're shall my Love--but here my Note must end.  }
+
+  _Your ever true +Belvira+._
+
+When this Letter was written, it was strait shown to _Celesia_, who
+look'd upon any Thing that belong'd to _Frankwit_, with rejoycing
+Glances; so eagerly she perus'd it, that her tender Eyes beginning to
+Water, she cry'd out, (fancying she saw the Words dance before her View)
+'Ah! Cousin, Cousin, your Letter is running away, sure it can't go
+itself to _Frankwit_.' A great Deal of other pleasing innocent Things
+she said, but still her Eyes flow'd more bright with lustrous Beams, as
+if they were to shine out; now all that glancing Radiancy which had been
+so long kept secret, and, as if, as soon as the Cloud of Blindness once
+was broke, nothing but Lightnings were to flash for ever after. Thus in
+mutual Discourse they spent their Hours, while _Frankwit_ was now
+ravished with the Receipt of this charming Answer of _Belvira's_, and
+blest his own Eyes which discovered to him the much welcome News of fair
+_Celesia's_. Often he read the Letters o're and o're, but there his Fate
+lay hid, for 'twas that very Fondness proved his Ruin. He lodg'd at a
+Cousin's House of his, and there, (it�being a private Family) lodged
+likewise a Blackamoor Lady, then a Widower; a�whimsical Knight had taken
+a Fancy to enjoy her: _Enjoy her did I say? Enjoy the Devil in the Flesh
+at once!_ I know not how it was, but he would fain have been a Bed with
+her, but she not consenting on unlawful Terms, (_but sure all Terms are
+with her unlawful_) the Knight soon marry'd her, as if there were not
+hell enough in Matrimony, but he must wed the Devil too. The Knight a
+little after died, and left this Lady of his (whom I shall _Moorea_) an
+Estate of six thousand Pounds _per Ann_. Now this _Moorea_ observed the
+joyous _Frankwit_ with an eager Look, her Eyes seemed like Stars of the
+first Magnitude glaring in the Night; she greatly importuned him to
+discover the Occasion of his transport, but he denying it, (as�'tis the
+Humour of our Sex) made her the more Inquisitive; and being Jealous that
+it was from a Mistress, employ'd her Maid to steal it, and if she found
+it such, to bring it her: accordingly it succeeded, for _Frankwit_
+having drank hard with some of the Gentlemen of that Shire, found
+himself indisposed, and soon went to Bed, having put the Letter in his
+Pocket: The Maid therefore to _Moorea_ contrived that all the other
+Servants should be out of the Way, that she might plausibly officiate in
+the Warming the Bed of the indisposed Lover, but likely, had it not been
+so, she had warmed it by his Intreaties in a more natural Manner; he
+being in Bed in an inner Room, she slips out the Letter from his Pocket,
+carries it to her Mistress to read, and so restores it whence she had
+it; in the Morning the poor Lover wakened in a violent Fever, burning
+with a Fire more hot than that of Love. In short, he continued Sick a
+considerable while, all which time the Lady _Moorea_ constantly visited
+him, and he as unwillingly saw her (poor Gentleman) as he would have
+seen a Parson; for as the latter would have perswaded, so the former
+scared him to Repentance. In the mean while, during his sickness,
+several Letters were sent to him by his dear _Belvira_, and _Celesia_
+too, (then learning to write) had made a shift to give him a line or two
+in Postscript with her Cousin, but all was intercepted by the jealousy
+of the Black _Moorea_, black in her mind, and dark, as well as in her
+body. _Frankwit_ too writ several Letters as he was able, complaining of
+her unkindness, those likewise were all stopt by the same Blackmoor
+Devil. At last, it happened that _Wildvill_, (who I told my Reader was
+_Frankwit's_ friend) came to _London_, his Father likewise dead, and now
+Master of a very plentiful fortune, he resolves to marry, and paying a
+visit to _Belvira_, enquires of her concerning _Frankwit_, she all in
+mourning for the loss, told him his friend was dead. 'Ah! _Wildvill_, he
+is dead,' said she, 'and died not mine, a�Blackmoor Lady had bewitched
+him from me; I�received a Letter lately which informed me all; there was
+no name subscribed to it, but it intimated, that it was written at the
+request of dying _Frankwit_.' 'Oh! I�am sorry at my Soul,' said
+_Wildvill_, 'for I loved him with the best, the dearest friendship; no
+doubt then,' rejoyned he, ''tis Witchcaft indeed that could make him
+false to you; what delight could he take in a Blackmoor Lady, tho' she
+had received him at once with a Soul as open as her longing arms, and
+with her Petticoat put off her modesty. Gods! How could he change a
+whole _Field Argent_ into downright _Sables_.' ''Twas done,' returned
+_Celesia_, 'with no small blot, I�fancy, to the Female 'Scutcheon.' In
+short, after some more discourse, but very sorrowful, _Wildvill_ takes
+his leave, extreamly taken with the fair _Belvira_, more beauteous in
+her cloud of woe; he paid her afterwards frequent visits, and found her
+wonder for the odd inconstancy of _Frankwit_, greater than her sorrow,
+since he dy'd so unworthy of her. _Wildvill_ attack'd her with all the
+force of vigorous love, and she (as�she thought) fully convinc'd of
+_Frankwit's_ death, urg'd by the fury and impatience of her new ardent
+Lover, soon surrender'd, and the day of their Nuptials now arriv'd,
+their hands were joyn'd. In the mean time _Frankwit_ (for he still
+liv'd) knew nothing of the Injury the base _Moorea_ practis'd, knew not
+that 'twas thro' her private order, that the fore-mention'd account of
+his falshood and his death was sent; but impatient to see his Dear
+_Belvira_, tho' yet extremely weak, rid post to _London_, and that very
+day arriv'd there, immediately after the Nuptials of his Mistress and
+his Friend were celebrated. I�was at this time in _Cambridge_, and
+having some small acquaintance with this Blackmoor Lady, and sitting in
+her Room that evening, after _Frankwit's_ departure thence, in
+_Moorea's_ absence, saw inadvertently a bundle of Papers, which she had
+gathered up, as I suppose, to burn, since now they grew but useless, she
+having no farther Hopes of him: I�fancy'd I knew the Hand, and thence my
+Curiosity only led me to see the Name and finding _Belvira_ subscrib'd,
+I�began to guess there was some foul play in Hand. _Belvira_ being my
+particularly intimate Acquaintance, I�read one of them, and finding the
+Contents, convey'd them all secretly out with me, as I thought, in Point
+of Justice I was bound, and sent them to _Belvira_ by that Night's Post;
+so that they came to her Hands soon after the Minute of her Marriage,
+with an Account how, and by what Means I came to light on them. No doubt
+but they exceedingly surpriz'd her: But Oh! Much more she grew amaz'd
+immediately after, to see the Poor, and now unhappy _Frankwit_, who
+privately had enquir'd for her below, being received as a Stranger, who
+said he had some urgent Business with her, in a back Chamber below
+Stairs. What Tongue, what Pen can express the mournful Sorrow of this
+Scene! At first they both stood Dumb, and almost Senseless; she took him
+for the Ghost of _Frankwit_; he looked so pale, new risen from his
+Sickness, he (for he had heard at his Entrance in the House, that his
+_Belvira_ marry'd _Wildvill_) stood in Amaze, and like a Ghost indeed,
+wanted the Power to speak, till spoken to the first. At last, he draws
+his Sword, designing there to fall upon it in her Presence; she then
+imagining it his Ghost too sure, and come to kill her, shrieks out and
+Swoons; he ran immediately to her, and catch'd her in his Arms, and
+while he strove to revive and bring her to herself, tho' that he thought
+could never now be done, since she was marry'd. _Wildvill_ missing his
+Bride, and hearing the loud Shriek, came running down, and entring the
+Room, sees his Bride lie clasp'd in _Frankwit's_ Arms. 'Ha! Traytor!' He
+cries out, drawing his Sword with an impatient Fury, 'have you kept that
+Strumpet all this while, curst _Frankwit_, and now think fit to put your
+damn'd cast Mistress upon me: could not you forbear her neither ev'n on
+my Wedding Day? abominable Wretch!' Thus saying, he made a full Pass at
+_Frankwit_, and run him thro' the left Arm, and quite thro' the Body of
+the poor _Belvira_; that thrust immediately made her start, tho'
+_Frankwit's_ Endeavours all before were useless. Strange! that her Death
+reviv'd her! For ah! she felt, that now she only liv'd to die! Striving
+thro' wild Amazement to run from such a Scene of Horror, as her
+Apprehensions shew'd her; down she dropt, and _Frankwit_ seeing her
+fall, (all Friendship disannull'd by such a Chain of Injuries) Draws,
+fights with, and stabs his own loved _Wildvill_. Ah! Who can express the
+Horror and Distraction of this fatal Misunderstanding! The House was
+alarm'd, and in came poor _Celesia_, running in Confusion just as
+_Frankwit_ was off'ring to kill himself, to die with a false Friend, and
+perjur'd Mistress, for he suppos'd them such. Poor _Celesia_ now
+bemoan'd her unhappiness of sight, and wish'd she again were blind.
+_Wildvill_ dy'd immediately, and _Belvira_ only surviv'd him long enough
+to unfold all their most unhappy fate, desiring _Frankwit_ with her
+dying breath, if ever he lov'd her, (and now she said that she deserv'd
+his love, since she had convinced him that she was not false) to marry
+her poor dear _Celesia_, and love her tenderly for her _Belvira's_ sake;
+leaving her, being her nearest Relation, all her fortune, and he, much
+dearer than it all, to be added to her own; so joyning his and
+_Celesia's_ Hands, she poured her last breath upon his Lips, and said,
+'Dear _Frankwit_, _Frankwit_, I die yours.' With tears and wondrous
+sorrow he promis'd to obey her Will, and in some months after her
+interrment, he perform'd his promise.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unfortunate Bride.
+
+
+p. 401 _To Richard Norton._ This Epistle Dedicatory is only to be found
+in the first edition of _The Unfortunate Bride; or, The Blind Lady a
+Beauty_, 'Printed for Samuel Briscoe, in Charles-Street, Covent-Garden,
+1698', and also dated, on title page facing the portrait of Mrs. Behn,
+1700.
+
+Southwick, Hants, is a parish and village some 1� miles from
+Portchester, 4� from Fareham. Richard Norton was son and heir of Sir
+Daniel Norton, who died seised of the manor in 1636. Richard Norton
+married Anne, daughter of Sir William Earle, by whom he had one child,
+Sarah. He was, in his county at least, a�figure of no little importance.
+Tuesday, 12 August, 1701, Luttrell records that 'an addresse from the
+grand jury of Hampshire .�.�. was delivered by Richard Norton and
+Anthony Henly, esqs. to the lords justices, to be laid before his
+majestie.' He aimed at being a patron of the fine arts, and under his
+superintendence Dryden's _The Spanish Friar_ was performed in the frater
+of Southwick Priory,[1] the buildings of which had not been entirely
+destroyed at the suppression. Colley Cibber addresses the Dedicatory
+Epistle (January, 1695) of his first play, _Love's Last Shift_ (4to,
+1696), to Norton in a highly eulogistic strain. The plate of Southwick
+Church (S.�James), consisting of a communion cup, a�standing paten, two
+flagons, an alms-dish, and a rat-tail spoon, is silver-gilt, and was
+presented by Richard Norton in 1691. He died 10 December, 1732.
+
+    [Footnote 1: The house was one of Black (Austin) Canons.]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE DUMB VIRGIN; OR, THE FORCE OF IMAGINATION.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so romantically
+and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt with in happier
+mood by Mrs. Behn in _The Dutch Lover_. _Vide_ Note on the Source of
+that play, Vol. I, p.�218.
+
+In classic lore the OEdipus Saga enthralled the imagination of antiquity
+and inspired dramas amongst the world's masterpieces. Later forms of the
+tale may be found in Suidas and Cedrenus.
+
+The Legend of St. Gregory, based on a similar theme, the hero of which,
+however, is innocent throughout, was widely diffused through medi�val
+Europe. It forms No. 81 of the _Gesta Romanorum_. There is an old
+English poem[1] on the subject, and it also received lyric treatment at
+the hands of the German meistersinger, Hartmann von Aue. An Italian
+story, _Il Figliuolo di germani_, the chronicle of St. Albinus, and the
+Servian romaunt of the Holy Foundling Simeon embody similar
+circumstances.
+
+Matteo Bandello, Part II, has a famous[2] novel (35) with rubric, 'un
+gentiluomo navarrese sposa una, che era sua sorella e figliuola, non lo
+sapendo,' which is almost exactly the same as the thirtieth story of the
+_Heptameron_. As the good Bishop declares that it was related to him by
+a lady living in the district, it is probable that some current
+tradition furnished both him and the Queen of Navarre with these
+horrible incidents and that neither copied from the other.[3]
+
+Bandello was imitated in Spanish by J. Perez de Montalvan, _Sucesos y
+Prodigios de Amor--La Mayor confusion_; in Latin by D.�Otho Melander;
+and he also gave Desfontaines the subject of _L'Inceste Innocent;
+Histoire V�ritable_ (Paris, 1644). A�similar tale is touched upon in
+_Amadis de Gaule_, and in a later century we find _Le Criminel sans le
+Savoir, Roman Historique et Po�tique_ (Amsterdam and Paris, 1783). It
+is also found in Brevio's _Rime e Prose_; Volgari, novella iv; and in
+T.�Grapulo (or�Grappolino), _Il Convito Borghesiano_ (Londra, 1800).
+A�cognate legend is _Le Dit du Buef_ and _Le Dit de la Bourjosee de
+Rome_. (ed.�Jubinal, _Nouveau Recueil_; and _Nouveau Recueil du S�nateur
+de Rome .�.�._ ed. M�on.) Again: the _Leggenda di Vergogna, etc. testi
+del buon secolo in prosa e in verso_, edited by A.�D'Ancona (Bologna,
+1869) repeats the same catastrophe. It is also related in Byshop's
+_Blossoms_.
+
+In Luther's _Colloquia Mensalia_, under the article 'Auricular
+Confession', the occurrence is said to have taken place at Erfurt in
+Germany. Julio de Medrano, a�Spanish writer of the sixteenth century,
+says that a similar story was related to him when he was in the
+Bourbonnois, where the inhabitants pointed out the house which had been
+the scene of these morbid passions. France, indeed, seems to have been
+the home of the tradition, and Le Roux de Lincy in the notes to his
+excellent edition of the _Heptameron_ quotes from Millin, _Antiquit�s
+Nationales_ (t.�iii. f. xxviii. p.�6.) who, speaking of the Collegiate
+Church of Ecouis, says that in the midst of the nave there was a
+prominent white marbel tablet with this epitaph:--
+
+  Cy-gist la fille, cy-gist le p�re,
+  Cy-gist la soeur, cy-gist le fr�re;
+  Cy-gist la femme, et le mary,
+  Et si n'y a que deux corps icy.
+
+The tradition ran that a son of 'Madame d'Ecouis avait eu de sa m�re
+sans la conna�tre et sans en �tre reconnu une fille nomm�e C�cile. Il
+�pousa ensuite en Lorraine cette m�me C�cile qui �tait aupr�s de la
+Duchesse de Bar .�.�. Il furent enterr�s dans le m�me tombeau en 1512 �
+Ecouis.' An old sacristan used to supply curious visitors to the church
+with a leaflet detailing the narrative. The same story is attached to
+other parishes, and at Alincourt, a�village between Amiens and
+Abbeville, the following lines are inscribed upon a grave:--
+
+  Ci git le fils, ci git la m�re,
+  Ci git la fille avec le p�re,
+  Ci git la soeur, ci git le fr�re,
+  Ci git la femme et le mari,
+  Et ne sont pas que trois corps ici.
+
+When Walpole wrote his tragedy, _The Mysterious Mother_ (1768), he
+states he had no knowledge of Bandello or the _Heptameron_, but he gives
+the following account of the origin of his theme. 'I�had heard when very
+young, that a gentlewoman, under uncommon agonies of mind, had waited on
+Archbishop Tillotson and besought his counsel. A�damsel that served her
+had, many years before, acquainted her that she was importuned by the
+gentlewoman's son to grant him a private meeting. The mother ordered the
+maiden to make the assignation, when she said she would discover herself
+and reprimand him for his criminal passion; but, being hurried away by a
+much more criminal passion herself, she kept the assignation without
+discovering herself. The fruit of this horrid artifice was a daughter,
+whom the gentlewoman caused to be educated very privately in the
+country; but proving very lovely and being accidentally met by her
+father-brother, who never had the slightest suspicion of the truth, he
+had fallen in love with and actually married her. The wretched guilty
+mother learning what had happened, and distracted with the consequence
+of her crime, had now resorted to the Archbishop to know in what manner
+she should act. The prelate charged her never to let her son and
+daughter know what had passed, as they were innocent of any criminal
+intention. For herself, he bad her almost despair.'
+
+The same story occurs in the writings of the famous Calvinistic divine,
+William Perkins (1558-1602), sometime Rector of St. Andrew's, Cambridge.
+Thence it was extracted for _The Spectator_.
+
+In Mat Lewis' ghoulish romance, _The Monk_ (1796) it will be remembered
+that Ambrosio, after having enjoyed Antonia, to whose bedchamber he has
+gained admittance by demoniacal aid, discovers that she is his sister,
+and heaping crime upon crime to sorcery and rape he has added incest.
+
+There is a tragic little novel, '_The Illegal Lovers; a True Secret
+History._ Being an Amour Between A Person of Condition and his Sister.
+Written by One who did reside in the Family.' (8vo, 1728.) After the
+death of his wife, Bellario falls in love with his sister Lindamira.
+Various sentimental letters pass between the two, and eventually
+Bellario in despair pistols himself. The lady lives to wed another
+admirer. The tale was obviously suggested by the _Love Letters between a
+Nobleman and his Sister_.
+
+    [Footnote 1: There are three MSS. _Vernon MS._, Oxford, edited by
+    Horstmann; _MS. Cott_, _Cleop. D. ix_, British Museum; _Auchinleck
+    MS._, Advocates' Library, Edinburgh, edited with glossary by
+    F.�Schultz, 1876.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: cf. Masuccio. _Il Novellino_, No. 23.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: Bandello's novels first appeared at Lucca, 4to, 1554.
+    Marguerite of Angoul�me died 21 December, 1549. The _Heptameron_
+    was composed 1544-8 and published 1558.]
+
+
+
+
+THE DUMB VIRGIN: or, the Force of Imagination.
+
+
+_Rinaldo_, a Senator of the great City _Venice_, by a plentiful
+Inheritance, and industrious Acquisitions, was become Master of a very
+plentiful Estate; which, by the Countenance of his Family, sprung from
+the best Houses in _Italy_, had rendred him extreamly popular and
+honoured; he had risen to the greatest Dignities of that State, all
+which Offices he discharged with Wisdom and Conduct, befitting the
+Importance of his Charge, and Character of the Manager; but this great
+Person had some Accident in his Children, sufficient to damp all the
+Pleasure of his more smiling Fortunes; he married when young,
+a�beautiful and virtuous Lady, who had rendred him the happy Father of a
+Son; but his Joys were soon disturbed by the following Occasion.
+
+There stands an Island in the _Adriatick_ Sea, about twenty Leagues from
+_Venice_, a Place wonderfully pleasant in the Summer, where Art and
+Nature seem to out-rival each other, or seem rather to combine in
+rendring it the most pleasant of their products; being placed under the
+most benign climate in the World, and situated exactly between _Italy_
+and _Greece_, it appears an entire Epitome of all the Pleasures in them
+both; the proper glories of the Island were not a little augmented by
+the confluence of Gentlemen and Ladies of the chiefest Rank in the City,
+insomuch that this was a greater mark for Beauty and Gallantry, than
+_Venice_ for Trade. Among others _Rinaldo's_ Lady begged her Husband's
+permission to view this so much celebrated place.
+
+He was unwilling to trust his treasure to the treachery of the watry
+element; but repeating her request, he yielded to her desires, his love
+not permitting him the least shew of command, and so thro' its extent,
+conspiring its own destruction. His Lady with her young Son (whom she
+would not trust from her sight) and a splendid attendance in a Barge
+well fitted, sets out for the Island, _Rinaldo_ being detained at home
+himself about some important affairs relating to the publick, committed
+the care of his dear Wife and Child to a faithful Servant call'd
+_Gaspar_; and for their greater security against Pyrates, had obtained
+his Brother, who commanded a _Venetian_ Galley, to attend them as
+Convoy. In the evening they set out from _Venice_, with a prosperous
+gale, but a storm arising in the night, soon separated the Barge from
+her Convoy, and before morning drove her beyond the designed Port, when,
+instead of discovering the wish'd-for Island, they could see a _Turkish_
+Pyrate bearing towards them, with all her Sail; their late apprehensions
+of Shipwrack, were drowned in the greater danger of Captivity and
+lasting Slavery, their fears drove some into resolutions as extravagant
+as the terrors that caused them, but the confusion of all was so
+tumultuous, and the designs so various, that nothing could be put in
+execution for the publick safety; the greatest share of the passengers
+being Ladies, added strangely to the consternation; beauty always adds a
+pomp to woe, and by its splendid show, makes sorrow look greater and
+more moving. Some by their piteous plaints and wailings proclaimed their
+griefs aloud, whilst others bespoke their sorrows more emphatically by
+sitting mournfully silent; the fears of some animated them to
+extravagant actions, whilst the terrors of others were so mortifying,
+that they shewed no sign of Life, but by their trembling; some mourned
+the rigour of their proper fate, others conscious of the sorrows their
+Friends and Relations should sustain through their loss, made the griefs
+of them their own; but the heaviest load of misfortunes lay on
+_Rinaldo's_ Lady, besides the loss of her liberty, the danger of her
+honour, the separation from her dear Husband, the care for her tender
+Infant wrought rueful distractions; she caught her Child in her Arms,
+and with Tears extorted thro' Fear and Affection, she deplor'd the
+Misfortune of her Babe, the pretty Innocent smiling in the Embraces of
+its Mother, shew'd that Innocence cou'd deride the Persecution of
+Fortune; at length she delivered the Infant into the Hand of _Gasper_,
+begging him to use all Endeavours in its Preservation, by owning it for
+his, when they fell into the Hands of the Enemy.
+
+But _Gasper_, who amidst the universal Consternation, had a peculiar
+Regard to his own Safety, and Master's Interest, undertook a Design
+desperately brave. Two long Planks, which lay lengthwise in the Barge,
+as Seats, he had ty'd together with Ropes, and taking the Infant from
+the Mother, whilst the whole Vessel was in a distracted Confusion, he
+fast'ned it to the Planks, and shoving both over-board before him,
+plung'd into the Sea after, dragging the Planks that bore the Infant
+with one Hand, and swimming with t'other, making the next Land; he had
+swam about two hundred Paces from the Barge before his Exploit was
+discover'd, but then the Griefs of _Rinaldo's_ Lady were doubly
+augmented, seeing her Infant expos'd to the Fury of the merciless Winds
+and Waves, which she then judged more rigorous than the _Turks_; for to
+a weak Mind, that Danger works still the strongest, that's most in View;
+but when the Pirate, who by this time had fetch'd them within Shot,
+began to Fire, she seem'd pleas'd that her Infant was out of that
+Hazard, tho' exposed to a greater. Upon their Sign of yielding, the
+_Turk_ launching out her Boat, brought them all on board her; but she
+had no time to examine her Booty, being saluted by a Broadside,
+vigorously discharg'd from a _Venetian_ Galley, which bore down upon
+them, whilst they were taking aboard their Spoil; this Galley was that
+commanded by _Rinaldo's_ Brother, which cruising that Way in quest of
+the Barge, happily engag'd the _Turk_, before they had Leisure to offer
+any Violence to the Ladies, and plying her warmly the Space of two
+Hours, made her a Prize, to the inexpressible Joy of the poor Ladies,
+who all this time under Hatches, had sustain'd the Horrors of ten
+thousand Deaths by dreading one.
+
+All the greater Dangers over, _Rinaldo's_ Lady began to reflect on the
+strange Riddle of her Son's Fortune, who by shunning one Fate, had
+(in�all Probability) fallen into a worse, for they were above ten
+Leagues from any Land, and the Sea still retain'd a Roughness, unsettled
+since the preceeding Storm; she therefore begg'd her Brother-in-Law to
+Sail with all Speed in Search of her Son and _Gasper_; but all in vain,
+for cruising that Day, and the succeeding Night along the Coasts,
+without making any Discovery of what they sought, he sent a Boat to be
+inform'd by the Peasants, of any such Landing upon their Coast; but they
+soon had a dismal Account, finding the Body of _Gasper_ thrown dead on
+the Sand, and near to him the Planks, the unhappy Occasion of his
+Flight, and the Faithless Sustainers of the Infant. So thinking these
+mournful Objects Testimonies enough of the Infant's Loss, they return'd
+with the doleful Relation to their Captain and the Lady; her Grief at
+the recital of the Tragic Story, had almost transported her to Madness;
+what Account must she now make to the mournful Father, who esteem'd this
+Child the chief Treasure of his Life; she fear'd, that she might forfeit
+the Affection of a Husband, by being the unfortunate Cause of so great a
+Loss; but her Fears deceiv'd her, for altho' her Husband, receiv'd her
+with great Grief, 'twas nevertheless moderated by the Patience of a
+Christian, and the Joy for recovering his beloved Lady.
+
+This Misfortune was soon lessen'd by the growing Hopes of another
+Off-spring, which made them divest their Mourning, to make Preparations
+for the joyful Reception of this new Guest into the World; and upon its
+Appearance their Sorrows were redoubled, 'twas a Daughter, its Limbs
+were distorted, its Back bent, and tho' the face was the freest from
+Deformity, yet had it no Beauty to Recompence the Dis-symetry of the
+other Parts; Physicians being consulted in this Affair, derived the
+Cause from the Frights and dismal Apprehensions of the Mother, at her
+being taken by the Pyrates; about which time they found by Computation,
+the Conception of the Child to be; the Mother grew very Melancholy,
+rarely speaking, and not to be comforted by any Diversion. She conceiv'd
+again, but no hopes of better Fortune cou'd decrease her Grief, which
+growing with her Burden, eased her of both at once, for she died in
+Child-birth, and left the most beautiful Daughter to the World that ever
+adorn'd _Venice_, but naturally and unfortunately Dumb, which defect the
+learn'd attributed to the Silence and Melancholy of the Mother, as the
+Deformity of the other was to the Extravagance of her Frights.
+
+_Rinaldo_, waving all Intentions of a second Marriage, directs his
+Thoughts to the Care of his Children, their Defects not lessening his
+Inclination, but stirring up his Endeavours in supplying the Defaults of
+Nature by the Industry of Art; he accordingly makes the greatest
+Provision for their Breeding and Education, which prov'd so effectual in
+a little Time, that their Progress was a greater Prodigy than
+themselves.
+
+The Eldest, called _Belvideera_, was indefatigably addicted to Study,
+which she had improv'd so far, that by the sixteenth Year of her Age,
+she understood all the _European_ Languages, and cou'd speak most of'em,
+but was particularly pleas'd with the _English_, which gave me the
+Happiness of many Hours Conversation with her; and I may ingenuously
+declare, 'twas the most Pleasant I ever enjoy'd, for besides a piercing
+Wit, and depth of Understanding peculiar to herself, she delivered her
+Sentiments with that easiness and grace of Speech, that it charm'd all
+her Hearers.
+
+The Beauties of the second Sister, nam'd _Maria_, grew with her Age,
+every twelve Months saluting her with a New-years Gift of some peculiar
+Charm; her Shapes were fine set off with a graceful and easy Carriage;
+the Majesty and Softness of her Face, at once wrought Love and
+Veneration; the Language of her Eyes sufficiently paid the Loss of her
+Tongue, and there was something so Commanding in her Look, that it
+struck every Beholder as dumb as herself; she was a great Proficient in
+Painting, which puts me in mind of a notable Story I can't omit; her
+Father had sent for the most Famous Painter in _Italy_ to draw her
+Picture, she accordingly sat for it; he had drawn some of the Features
+of her Face; and coming to the Eye, desired her to give him as brisk and
+piercing a Glance as she cou'd; but the Vivacity of her Look so
+astonished the Painter, that thro' concern he let his Pencil drop and
+spoiled the Picture; he made a second Essay, but with no better Success,
+for rising in great Disorder, he swore it impossible to draw that which
+he cou'd not look upon; the Lady vexed at the Weakness of the Painter,
+took up his Pencils and the Picture, and sitting down to her Glass,
+finished it herself; she had improv'd her silent Conversation with her
+Sister so far, that she was understood by her, as if she had spoke, and
+I remember this Lady was the first I saw use the significative Way of
+Discourse by the Fingers; I�dare not say 'twas she invented it (tho' it
+probably might have been an Invention of these ingenious Sisters) but I
+am positive none before her ever brought it to that Perfection.
+
+In the seventeenth of _Belvideera's_, and sixteenth Year of _Maria's_
+Age, _Francisco_, Brother to _Rinaldo_, was made Admiral of the
+_Venetian_ Fleet, and upon his first Entrance upon his Command, had
+obtained a signal Victory over the _Turks_; he returning to _Venice_
+with Triumph, applause and spoil, presented to the great Duke a young
+_English_ Gentleman, who only as a Volunteer in the Action, had
+signalized himself very bravely in the Engagement, but particularly by
+first boarding the _Turkish_ Admiral Galley, and killing her Commander
+hand to hand; the Fame of this Gentleman soon spread over all _Venice_,
+and the two Sisters sent presently for me, to give an Account of the
+Exploits of my Countryman, as their Unkle had recounted it to them;
+I�was pleas'd to find so great an Example of _English_ Bravery, so far
+from Home, and long'd extreamly to converse with him, vainly flattering
+myself, that he might have been of my Acquaintance. That very Night
+there was a grand Ball and Masquerade at the great Duke's Palace, for
+the most signal Joy of the late Success, thither _Belvideera_ invited me
+to Accompany her and _Maria_, adding withal as a Motive, that we might
+there most probably meet, and Discourse with this young Hero; and
+equipping me with a Suit of Masquerade, they carried me in their Coach
+to the Ball, where we had pass'd half an Hour, when I saw enter a
+handsom Gentleman in a rich _English_ Dress; I�show'd him to
+_Belvideera_, who moving towards him, with a gallant Air, slaps him on
+the Shoulder with her Fan, he turning about, and viewing her Person, the
+Defaults of which were not altogether hidden by her Disguise; 'Sir,
+(said�he) if you are a Man, know that I am one, and will not bear
+Impertinence; but, if you are a Lady, Madam, as I hope in Heavens you
+are not, I�must inform you, that I am under a Vow, not to converse with
+any Female to Night;' 'Know then, Sir, (answered _Belvideera_ very
+smartly) that I am a Female, and you have broke your Vow already; but
+methinks, Sir, the Ladies are very little oblig'd to your Vow, which
+wou'd rob them of the Conversation of so fine a Gentleman.'
+
+'Madam, (said the Gentleman) the Sweetness of your Voice bespeaks you a
+Lady, and I hope the breaking my Vow will be so far from Damning me,
+that I shall thereby merit Heaven, if I may be blest in your Divine
+Conversation.' _Belvideera_ made such ingenious and smart Repartees to
+the Gentleman, who was himself a great Courtier, that he was entirely
+captivated with her Wit, insomuch, that he cou'd not refrain making
+Protestations of his Passion; he talked about half an Hour in such pure
+_Italian_, that I began to mistrust my _Englishman_, wherefore taking
+some Occasion to jest upon his Habit, I�found 'twas only a Masquerade to
+cloak a down-right _Venetian_; in the mean Time, we perceiv'd a
+Gentleman Gallantly attir'd with no Disguise but a _Turkish_ Turbant on,
+the richliest beset with Jewels I ever saw; he addressed _Maria_ with
+all the Mien and Air of the finest Courtier; he had talked to her a good
+while before we heard him, but then _Belvideera_, knowing her poor
+Sister uncapable of any Defence, 'Sir, (said she to the _Venetian_,)
+yonder is a Lady of my Acquaintance, who lies under a Vow of Silence as
+you were, I�must therefore beg your Pardon, and fly to her Relief': 'She
+can never be conquer'd, who has such a Champion,' (reply'd the
+Gentleman) upon which _Belvideera_ turning from him, interpos'd between
+the Gentleman and her Sister, saying, 'This Lady, Sir, is under an
+Obligation of Silence, as a Penance imposed by her Father-Confessor.'
+'Madam, (reply'd the Gentleman) whoever impos'd Silence on these fair
+Lips, is guilty of a greater Offence than any, such a fair Creature
+cou'd commit.' 'Why, Sir, (said _Belvideera_) have you seen the Lady's
+Beauty': 'Yes, Madam, (answer'd�he) for urging her to talk, which I
+found she declin'd, I�promis'd to disengage her from any farther
+Impertinence, upon a Sight of her Face; she agreed by paying the Price
+of her Liberty, which was ransom enough for any Thing under Heavens, but
+her fair Company'; he spoke in an Accent that easily shew'd him a
+Stranger; which _Belvideera_ laying hold of, as an Occasion of Railery,
+'Sir, (said she,) your Tongue pronounces you a great Stranger in this
+Part of the World, I�hope you are not what that Turbant represents;
+perhaps, Sir, you think your self in the Seraglio'; 'Madam,
+(reply'd�he,) this Turbant might have been in the _Turkish_ Seraglio,
+but never in so fair a one as this; and this Turbant (taking it off) is
+now to be laid at the Foot of some Christian Lady, for whose safety, and
+by whose protecting Influence, I�had the Happiness to win it from the
+Captain of the _Turkish_ Admiral Galley.' We were all surpriz'd, knowing
+him then the young _English_ Gentleman, we were so curious of seeing;
+_Belvideera_ presently talk'd _English_ to him, and made him some very
+pretty Complements upon his Victory, which so charm'd the young Soldier,
+that her Tongue claim'd an equal Share in his Heart with _Maria's_ Eyes;
+'Madam, (said he to her) if you have the Beauty of that Lady, or if she
+has your Wit, I�am the most happy, or the most unfortunate Man alive.'
+'Sir,' said the _Venetian_ coming up, 'pray give me leave to share in
+your Misfortunes.' 'Sir, (said _Belvideera_ very smartly) you must share
+in his good Fortunes, and learn to conquer Men, before you have the
+Honour of being subdu'd by Ladies, we scorn mean Prizes, Sir.' 'Madam,
+(said the _Venetian_ in some Choler) perhaps I can subdue a Rival.'
+'Pray, Sir, (said the Stranger) don't be angry with the Lady, she's not
+your Rival I hope, Sir.' Said the _Venetian_, 'I can't be angry at the
+Lady, because I love her; but my Anger must be levell'd at him, who
+after this Declaration dare own a Passion for her.' 'Madam, (said the
+_English_ Gentleman turning from the _Venetian_) Honour now must extort
+a Confession from me, which the Awfulness of my Passion durst never have
+own'd: And I must declare,' added he in a louder Voice, 'to all the
+World, that I love you, lest this Gentleman shou'd think his Threats
+forc'd me to disown it.' 'O! then (said _Belvideera_) you're his Rival
+in Honour, not in Love.' 'In honourable Love I am, Madam,' answer'd the
+Stranger. 'I'll try,' (said the _Venetian_, going off in Choler,) he
+Whisper'd a little to a Gentleman, that stood at some Distance, and
+immediately went out; this was _Gonzago_, a Gentleman of good Reputation
+in _Venice_, his Principles were Honour and Gallantry, but the Former
+often sway'd by Passions, rais'd by the Latter. All this while, _Maria_
+and I were admiring the Stranger, whose Person was indeed wonderfully
+Amiable; his Motions were exact, yet free and unconstrain'd; the Tone of
+his Voice carried a sweet Air of Modesty in it, yet were all his
+Expressions manly; and to summ up all, he was as fine an _English_
+Gentleman, as I ever saw Step in the _Mall_.
+
+Poor _Maria_ never before envied her Sister the Advantage of Speech, or
+never deplor'd the Loss of her own with more Regret, she found something
+so Sweet in the Mien, Person, and Discourse of this Stranger, that her
+Eyes felt a dazling Pleasure in beholding him, and like flattering
+Mirrours represented every Action and Feature, with some heightning
+Advantage to her Imagination: _Belvideera_ also had some secret Impulses
+of Spirit, which drew her insensibly into a great Esteem of the
+Gentleman; she ask'd him, by what good Genius, propitious to _Venice_,
+he was induced to Live so remote from his Country; he said, that he
+cou'd not imploy his Sword better than against the common Foe of
+Christianity; and besides, there was a peculiar Reason, which prompted
+him to serve there, which Time cou'd only make known. I�made bold to ask
+him some peculiar Questions, about Affairs at Court, to most of which he
+gave Answers, that shew'd his Education liberal, and himself no Stranger
+to Quality; he call'd himself _Dangerfield_, which was a Name that so
+pleas'd me, that being since satisfied it was a Counterfeit, I�us'd it
+in a Comedy of mine: We had talk'd 'till the greater Part of the Company
+being dispers'd, _Dangerfield_ begg'd Leave to attend us to our Coach,
+and waiting us to the Door, the Gentleman, whom _Gonzago_ whisper'd,
+advanc'd and offer'd his Service to hand _Maria_; she declin'd it, and
+upon his urging, she turn'd to the other Side of _Dangerfield_, who, by
+this Action of the Ladies finding himself intitled to her Protection,
+'Sir, (said�he) Favours from great Beauties, as from great Monarchs,
+must flow Voluntarily, not by Constraint, and whosoever wou'd extort
+from either, are liable to the great Severity of Punishment.' 'Oh! Sir,
+(reply'd the _Venetian_ very arrogantly,) I�understand not your
+Monarchy, we live here under a free State; besides, Sir, where there is
+no Punishment to be dreaded, the Law will prove of little Force; and so,
+Sir, by your Leave,' offering to push him aside, and lay hold on the
+Lady. _Dangerfield_ returned the Justle so vigorously, that the
+_Venetian_ fell down the Descent of some Stairs at the Door, and broke
+his Sword: _Dangerfield_ leap'd down after him, to prosecute his
+Chastizement, but seeing his Sword broken, only whisper'd him, that if
+he wou'd meet him next Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St. _Mark's_
+Church, he wou'd satisfie him for the Loss of his Sword; upon which, the
+_Venetian_ immediately went off, cursing his ill Fate, that prevented
+his quarrelling with _Dangerfield_, to whom he had born a grudging Envy
+ever since his Success in the late Engagement, and of whom, and his
+Lodgings, he had given _Gonzago_ an Account, when he whisper'd him at
+the Ball. _Dangerfield_ left us full of his Praises, and went home to
+his Lodgings, where he found a Note directed to him to this Effect:
+
+  SIR,
+
+  _You declared Publickly at the Ball, you were my Rival in Love and
+  Honour: If you dare prove it by Maintaining it, I�shall be to morrow
+  Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St. +Mark's+ Church, where I
+  shall be ready to fall a Sacrifice to both._
+
+  Gonzago.
+
+_Dangerfield_, on the Perusal of this Challenge, began to reflect on
+the Strangeness of that Evening's Adventure, which had engag'd him
+in a Passion for two Mistresses, and involv'd him in two Duels;
+and whether the Extravagance of his Passion, or the Oddness of his
+Fighting-Appointments, were most remarkable, he found hard to Determine;
+his Love was divided between the Beauty of one Lady, and Wit of another,
+either of which he loved passionately, yet nothing cou'd satisfy him,
+but the Possibility of enjoying both. He had appointed the Gentleman at
+the Ball to meet him at the same Time and Place, which _Gonzago's_
+Challenge to him imported; this Disturbance employed his Thought till
+Morning, when rising and dressing himself very richly, he walked to the
+appointed Place. _Erizo_, who was the Gentleman whose Sword he had
+broke, was in the Place before him; and _Gonzago_ entered at the same
+Time with him. _Erizo_, was surprized to see _Gonzago_, as much as he
+was to find _Erizo_ there. 'I�don't remember, Friend (said _Gonzago_)
+that I desired your Company here this Morning.' 'As much as I expected
+yours,' answered _Erizo_. 'Come, Gentlemen, (said _Dangerfield_,
+interrupting them) I�must fight you both, it seems: which shall I
+dispatch first?' 'Sir, (said _Erizo_) you challeng'd me, and therefore I
+claim your Promise.' 'Sir, (reply'd _Gonzago_) he must require the same
+of me first, as I challenged him.' Said _Erizo_, 'the Affront I received
+was unpardonable, and therefore I must fight him first, lest if he fall
+by your Hands, I�be depriv'd of my Satisfaction.' 'Nay (reply'd
+_Gonzago_) my Love and Honour being laid at Stake, first claims his
+Blood; and therefore, Sir, (continued he to _Dangerfield_) defend
+yourself.' 'Hold (said _Erizo_ interposing,) if you thrust home, you
+injure me, your Friend.' 'You have forfeited that title, (said _Gonzago_
+all in Choler,) and therefore if you stand not aside, I'll push at you.'
+'Thrust home then, (said _Erizo_) and take what follows.' They
+immediately assaulted each other vigorously. 'Hold, Gentlemen, (said
+_Dangerfield_ striking down their Swords) by righting your selves you
+injure me, robbing me of that Satisfaction, which you both owe me, and
+therefore, Gentlemen, you shall fight me, before any private Quarrel
+among your selves defraud me of my Revenge, and so one or both of you,'
+thrusting first at _Erizo_. 'I'm your Man,' (said _Gonzago_) parrying
+the Thrust made at _Erizo_. The Clashing of so many Swords alarm'd some
+Gentlemen at their _Mattins_ in the Church, among whom was _Rinaldo_,
+who since the Death of his Wife, had constantly attended Morning-Service
+at the Church, wherein she was buried. He with Two or Three more, upon
+the Noise ran out, and parting the three Combatants, desired to know the
+Occasion of their Promiscuous Quarrel. _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ knowing
+_Rinaldo_, gave him an Account of the Matter, as also who the Stranger
+was. _Rinaldo_ was overjoy'd to find the brave _Britain_, whom he had
+received so great a Character of, from his Brother the Admiral, and
+accosting him very Courteously, 'Sir, (said�he) I�am sorry our
+Countrymen shou'd be so Ungrateful as to Injure any Person, who has been
+so Serviceable to the State; and pray, Gentlemen, (added he, addressing
+the other two) be intreated to suspend your Animosities, and come Dine
+with me at my House, where I hope to prevail with you to end your
+Resentments.' _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ hearing him Compliment the Stranger
+at their Expence, told him in a Rage, they wou'd chuse some other Place
+than his House, to end their Resentments in, and walk'd off.
+_Dangerfield_, on _Rinaldo's_ farther Request, accompanied him to his
+House.
+
+_Maria_ had newly risen, and with her Night-gown only thrown loose about
+her, had look'd out of the Window, just as her Father and _Dangerfield_
+were approaching the Gate, at the same Instant she cast her Eyes upon
+_Dangerfield_, and he accidentally look'd up to the Window where she
+stood, their Surprize was mutual, but that of _Dangerfield_ the greater;
+he saw such an amazing Sight of Beauty, as made him doubt the Reality of
+the Object, or distrust the Perfection of his Sight; he saw his dear
+Lady, who had so captivated him the preceeding Day, he saw her in all
+the heightning Circumstances of her Charms, he saw her in all her native
+Beauties, free from the Incumbrance of Dress, her Hair as black as
+Ebony, hung flowing in careless Curls over her Shoulders, it hung link'd
+in amorous Twinings, as if in Love with its own Beauties; her Eyes not
+yet freed from the Dullness of the late Sleep, cast a languishing
+Pleasure in their Aspect, which heaviness of Sight added the greatest
+Beauties to those Suns, because under the Shade of such a Cloud, their
+Lustre cou'd only be view'd; the lambent Drowsiness that play'd upon her
+Face, seem'd like a thin Veil not to hide, but to heighten the Beauty
+which it cover'd; her Night-gown hanging loose, discover'd her charming
+Bosom, which cou'd bear no Name, but Transport, Wonder and Extasy, all
+which struck his Soul, as soon as the Object hit his Eye; her Breasts
+with an easy Heaving, show'd the Smoothness of her Soul and of her Skin;
+their Motions were so languishingly soft, that they cou'd not be said to
+rise and fall, but rather to swell up towards Love, the Heat of which
+seem'd to melt them down again; some scatter'd jetty Hairs, which hung
+confus'dly over her Breasts, made her Bosom show like _Venus_ caught in
+_Vulcan's_ Net, but 'twas the Spectator, not she, was captivated. This
+_Dangerfield_ saw, and all this at once, and with Eyes that were adapted
+by a preparatory Potion; what must then his Condition be? He was
+stricken with such Amazement, that he was forced to Support himself, by
+leaning on _Rinaldo's_ Arm, who started at his sudden Indisposition.
+'I'm afraid, Sir, (said�he) you have received some Wound in the Duel.'
+'Oh! Sir, (said�he) I�am mortally wounded'; but recollecting himself
+after a little Pause, 'now I am better.' _Rinaldo_ wou'd have sent for a
+Surgeon to have it searched. 'Your pardon, Sir, (said _Dangerfield_) my
+Indisposition proceeds from an inward Malady, not by a Sword, but like
+those made by _Achilles's_ Spear, nothing can cure, but what gave the
+Wound.' _Rinaldo_ guessing at the Distemper, but not the Cause of it,
+out of good Manners declined any further enquiry, but conducting him in,
+entertained him with all the Courtesy imaginable; but in half a Hour,
+a�Messenger came from the Senate, requiring his immediate Attendance; he
+lying under an indispensable Necessity of making his personal
+Appearance, begg'd _Dangerfield's_ Pardon, intreating him to stay, and
+command his House till his return, and conducting him to a fine Library,
+said he might there find Entertainment, if he were addicted to Study;
+adding withal, as a farther Engagement of his Patience, that he should
+meet the Admiral at the Senate, whom he wou'd bring home as an Addition
+to their Company at Dinner. _Dangerfield_ needed none of these Motives
+to stay, being detained by a secret Inclination to the Place; walking
+therefore into the Library, _Rinaldo_ went to the Senate. _Dangerfield_
+when alone, fell into deep Ruminating on his strange Condition, he knew
+himself in the House, with one of his dear Charmers, but durst not hope
+to see her, which added to his Torment; like _Tantalus_ remov'd the
+farther from Happiness, by being nearer to it, contemplated so far on
+the Beauties of that dear Creature, that he concluded, if her Wit were
+like that of his t'other Mistress, he wou'd endeavour to confine his
+Passion wholly to that Object.
+
+In the mean Time, _Maria_ was no less confounded, she knew herself in
+Love with a Stranger, whose Residence was uncertain, she knew her own
+Modesty in concealing it; and alas! she knew her Dumbness uncapable of
+ever revealing it, at least, it must never expect any Return; she had
+gather'd from her Sister's Discourse, that she was her Rival; a�Rival,
+who had the Precedency in Age, as the Advantage in Wit, and Intreague,
+which want of Speech render'd her uncapable of; these Reflections, as
+they drew her farther from the dear Object, brought her nearer Despair;
+her Sister was gone that Morning with her Unkle, the Admiral, about two
+Miles from _Venice_, to drink some Mineral Waters, and _Maria_ finding
+nothing to divert her, goes down to her Father's Library, to ease her
+Melancholy by reading. She was in the same loose Habit in which she
+appeared at the Window, her Distraction of Thought not permitting her
+any Care in dressing herself; she enter'd whilst _Dangerfield's_
+Thoughts were bent by a full Contemplation of her Idea, insomuch that
+his Surprize represented her as a Phantom only, created by the Strength
+of his Fancy; her depth of Thought had cast down her Eyes in a fix'd
+Posture so low, that she discover'd not _Dangerfield_, till she stood
+close where he sat, but then so sudden an Appearance of what she so
+lov'd, struck so violently on her Spirits, that she fell in a Swoon, and
+fell directly into _Dangerfield's_ Arms; this soon wakened him from his
+Dream of Happiness, to a Reality of Bliss, he found his Phantom turn'd
+into the most charming Piece of Flesh and Blood that ever was, he found
+her, whom just now he despair'd of seeing; he found her with all her
+Beauties flowing loose in his Arms, the Greatness of the Pleasure rais'd
+by the two heightning Circumstances of Unexpectancy and Surprize, was
+too large for the Capacity of his Soul, he found himself beyond
+Expression happy, but could not digest the Surfeit; he had no sooner
+Leisure to consider on his Joy, but he must reflect on the Danger of her
+that caus'd it, which forced him to suspend his Happiness to administer
+some Relief to her expiring Senses: He had a Bottle of excellent Spirits
+in his Pocket, which holding to her Nose, soon recover'd her; she
+finding herself in the Arms of a Man, and in so loose a Dress, blush'd
+now more red, than she look'd lately pale; and disengaging herself in a
+Confusion, wou'd have flung from him; but he gently detaining her by a
+precarious Hold, threw himself on his Knees, and with the greatest
+Fervency of Passion cry'd out: 'For Heavens sake, dearest Creature, be
+not offended at the accidental Blessing which Fortune, not Design, hath
+cast upon me; (She wou'd have rais'd him�up,) No Madam, (continu'd�he)
+never will I remove from this Posture, 'till you have pronounc'd my
+Pardon; I�love you, Madam, to that Degree, that if you leave me in a
+distrust of your Anger, I�cannot survive it; I�beg, intreat, conjure you
+to speak, your Silence torments me worse than your Reproaches cou'd; am
+I so much disdain'd, that you will not afford me one Word?' The
+lamentable Plight of the wretched Lady every one may guess, but no Body
+can comprehend; she saw the dearest of Mankind prostrate at her Feet,
+and imploring what she wou'd as readily grant as he desire, yet herself
+under a Necessity of denying his Prayers, and her own easy Inclinations.
+The Motions of her Soul, wanting the freedom of Utterance, were like to
+tear her Heart asunder by so narrow a Confinement, like the force of
+Fire pent up, working more impetuously; 'till at last he redoubling his
+Importunity, her Thoughts wanting Conveyance by the Lips, burst out at
+her Eyes in a Flood of Tears; then moving towards a Writing-Desk, he
+following her still on his Knees, amidst her Sighs and Groans she took
+Pen and Paper, writ two Lines, which she gave him folded up, then
+flinging from him, ran up to her Chamber: He strangely surpriz'd at this
+odd manner of Proceeding, opening the Paper, read the following Words:
+
+  _You can't my Pardon, nor my Anger move.
+  For know, alas! I'm dumb, alas! I love._
+
+He was wonderfully Amaz'd reading these Words. 'Dumb, (cried he out)
+naturally Dumb? O�ye niggard Powers, why was such a wond'rous Piece of
+Art left imperfect?' He had many other wild Reasonings upon the
+lamentable Subject, but falling from these to more calm Reflections, he
+examined her Note again, and finding by the last Words that she loved
+him, he might presently imagine, that if he found not some Means of
+declaring the Continuance of his Love, the innocent Lady might
+conjecture herself slighted, upon the Discovery of her Affection and
+Infirmity: Prompted, by which Thought, and animated by the Emotions of
+his Passion, he ventured to knock at her Door; she having by this Time
+dressed herself, ventured to let him in: _Dangerfield_ ran towards her,
+and catching her with an eager Embrace, gave her a thousand Kisses;
+'Madam, (said�he) you find that pardoning Offences only prepares more,
+by emboldning the Offender; but, I�hope, Madam,' shewing her the Note,
+'this is a general Pardon for all Offences of this sort, by which I am
+so encouraged to Transgress, that I shall never cease Crimes of this
+Nature'; Kissing her again. His Happiness was interrupted by
+_Belvideera's_ coming Home, who running up Stairs, called, 'Sister,
+Sister, I�have News to tell you': Her Voice alarms _Maria_, who fearing
+the Jealousy of _Belvideera_, shou'd she find _Dangerfield_ in her
+Bed-Chamber, made Signs that he shou'd run into the Closet, which she
+had just lock'd as _Belvideera_ came in: 'Oh, Sister! (said
+_Belvideera_) in a lucky Hour went I abroad this Morning.' In a more
+lucky Hour stay'd I at home this Morning, thought _Maria_. 'I have,
+(continued she,) been Instrumental in parting two Gentlemen fighting
+this Morning, and what is more, my Father had parted them before, when
+engag'd with the fine _English_ Gentleman we saw at the Ball yesterday;
+but the greatest News of all is, that this fine _English_ Gentleman is
+now in the House, and must Dine here to Day; but you must not appear,
+Sister, because 'twere a Shame to let Strangers know that you are Dumb.'
+_Maria_ perceived her Jealousy, pointed to her Limbs, intimating
+thereby, that it was as great a Shame for her to be seen by Strangers;
+but she made farther Signs, that since it was her Pleasure, she wou'd
+keep her Chamber all that Day, and not appear abroad. _Belvideera_ was
+extreamly glad of her Resolution, hoping that she shou'd enjoy
+_Dangerfield's_ Conversation without any Interruption. The Consternation
+of the Spark in the Closet all this while was not little, he heard the
+Voice of the Charmer, that had so captivated him, he found that she was
+Sister to that Lady, whom he just now was making so many Protestations
+to, but he cou'd not imagine how she was Instrumental in parting the two
+Gentlemen, that shou'd have fought him; the Occasion was this:
+
+_Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, parting from _Rinaldo_ and _Dangerfield_, had
+walk'd towards the _Rialto_, and both exasperated that they had missed
+their intended Revenge against _Dangerfield_, turned their Fury upon
+each other, first raising their Anger by incensed Expostulations, then
+drawing their Swords, engaged in a desperate Combat, when a Voice very
+loud calling, (_Erizo_, hold) stopt their Fury to see whence it
+proceeded; when a Coach driving at full Flight stopt close by them, and
+_Francisco_ the _Venetian_ Admiral leaped out with his Sword drawn,
+saying, 'Gentlemen, pray let me be an Instrument of Pacification: As for
+your part, _Erizo_, this Proceeding suits not well with the Business I
+am to move in Favour of you in the Senate to Day; the Post you sue for
+claims your Blood to be spilt against the common Foe, not in private
+Resentment, to the Destruction of a Citizen; and therefore I intreat you
+as my Friend, or I command you as your Officer, to put up.' _Erizo_,
+unwilling to disoblige his Admiral, upon whose Favour his Advancement
+depended, told _Gonzago_, that he must find another time to talk with
+him. 'No, no, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall not part 'till I
+have reconciled you, and therefore let me know your Cause of Quarrel.'
+_Erizo_ therefore related to him the whole Affair, and mentioning that
+_Dangerfield_ was gone Home to Dine with _Rinaldo_; 'With _Rinaldo_ my
+Father?' said _Belvideera_ from the Coach, overjoy'd with Hopes of
+seeing _Dangerfield_ at Home. 'Yes, (reply'd _Gonzago_ surpriz'd) if
+_Rinaldo_ the Senator be your Father, Madam.' 'Yes, he is,' reply'd
+_Belvideera_. _Gonzago_ then knew her to be the Lady he was enamour'd
+of, and for whom he wou'd have fought _Dangerfield_; and now cursed his
+ill Fate, that he had deny'd _Rinaldo's_ Invitation, which lost him the
+Conversation of his Mistress, which his Rival wou'd be sure of. 'Come,
+come, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall accompany me to see this
+Stranger at _Rinaldo's_ House, I�bear a great Esteem for him, and so it
+behoves every loyal _Venetian_, for whose Service he hath been so
+signal.' _Erizo_, unwilling to deny the Admiral, and _Gonzago_ glad of
+an Opportunity of his Mistress's Company, which he just now thought
+lost, consented to the Proposal, and mounting all into the Coach, the
+three Gentlemen were set down at the Senate, and the Lady drove Home as
+above-mentioned.
+
+_Rinaldo_ in the mean Time was not idle in the Senate, there being a
+Motion made for Election of a Captain to the _Rialto_ Galleon, made void
+by the Death of its former Commander in the late Fight, and which was
+the Post designed by the Admiral for _Erizo_. _Rinaldo_ catching an
+Opportunity of obliging _Dangerfield_, for whom he entertain'd a great
+Love and Respect, proposed him as a Candidate for the Command, urging
+his late brave Performance against the _Turks_, and how much it
+concerned the Interest of the State to encourage Foreigners. He being
+the Admiral's Brother, and being so fervent in the Affair, had by an
+unanimous Consent his Commission sign'd just as his Brother came into
+the Senate, who fearing how Things were carried, comforted _Erizo_ by
+future Preferment; but _Erizo_, however he stifled his Resentment, was
+struck with Envy, that a Stranger, and his Enemy shou'd be preferred to
+him, and resolved Revenge on the first Opportunity. They all went home
+with _Rinaldo_, and arrived whilst _Belvideera_ was talking above Stairs
+with her Sister. _Rinaldo_, impatient to communicate his Success to
+_Dangerfield_, ran into the Study, where he left him; but missing him
+there, went into the Garden, and searching all about, returned to the
+Company, telling them he believ'd _Dangerfield_ had fallen asleep in
+some private Arbor in the Garden, where he cou'd not find him, or else
+impatient of his long stay, had departed; but he was sure, if he had
+gone, he wou'd soon return: However they went to Dinner, and
+_Belvideera_ came down, making an Apology for her Sister's Absence,
+thro' an Indisposition that had seized her. _Gonzago_ had his wished for
+Opportunity of entertaining his Mistress, whilst she always expecting
+some News of _Dangerfield_, sat very uneasie in his Company; whilst
+_Dangerfield_ in the Closet, was as impatient to see her. The short
+Discourse she had with her Sister, gave him assurance that his Love
+wou'd not be unacceptable. _Maria_ durst not open the Closet, afraid
+that her Sister shou'd come up every Minute, besides, 'twas impossible
+to convey him out of the Chamber undiscovered, untill 'twas dark, which
+made him Wonder what occasioned his long Confinement; and being tired
+with sitting, got up to the Window, and softly opening the Casement,
+looked out to take the Air; his Footman walking accidentally in the
+Court, and casting up his Eye that way, spy'd him, which confirm'd his
+Patience in attending for him at the Gate; at length it grew Dark, and
+_Maria_ knowing that her Sister was engag'd in a Match at Cards with her
+Father, _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, the Admiral being gone, she came softly
+to the Closet, and innocently took _Dangerfield_ by the Hand, to lead
+him out, he clapt the dear soft Hand to his Mouth, and kissing it
+eagerly, it fired his Blood, and the unhappy Opportunity adding to the
+Temptation, raised him to the highest Pitch of Passion; he found himself
+with the most beautiful Creature in the World, one who loved him, he
+knew they were alone in the Dark, in a Bed-chamber, he knew the Lady
+young and melting, he knew besides she cou'd not tell, and he was
+conscious of his Power in moving; all these wicked Thoughts concurring,
+establish'd him in the Opinion, that this was the critical Minute of his
+Happiness, resolving therefore not to lose it, he fell down on his
+Knees, devouring her tender Hand, sighing out his Passion, begging her
+to Crown it with her Love, making Ten thousand Vows and Protestations of
+his Secrecy and Constancy, urging all the Arguments that the Subtilty of
+the Devil or Man could suggest. She held out against all his Assaults
+above two Hours, and often endeavoured to Struggle from him, but durst
+make no great Disturbance, thro' fear of Alarming the Company below, at
+last he redoubling his Passion with Sighs, Tears, and all the rest of
+Love's Artillery, he at last gain'd the Fort, and the poor conquered
+Lady, all panting, soft, and trembling every Joynt, melted by his
+Embraces, he there fatally enjoy'd the greatest Extasy of Bliss,
+heightned by the Circumstances of Stealth, and Difficulty in obtaining.
+The ruin'd Lady now too late deplored the Loss of her Honour; but he
+endeavour'd to Comfort her by making Vows of Secrecy, and promising to
+salve her Reputation by a speedy Marriage, which he certainly intended,
+had not the unhappy _Crisis_ of his Fate been so near. The Company by
+this Time had gone off, and _Belvideera_ had retir'd to her Chamber,
+melancholy that she had missed her Hopes of seeing _Dangerfield_.
+_Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ going out of the Gate, saw _Dangerfield's_
+Footman, whom they knew, since they saw him with his Master in the
+Morning. _Gonzago_ asked him why he waited there? 'For my Master, Sir,'
+reply'd the Footman. 'Your Master is not here sure,' said _Gonzago_.
+'Yes, but he is, Sir,' said the Servant, 'for I attended him hither this
+Morning with _Rinaldo_, and saw him in the Afternoon look out of a
+Window above Stairs.' 'Ha!' said _Gonzago_, calling _Erizo_ aside, 'by
+Heavens, he lies here to Night then, and perhaps with my Mistress;
+I�perceiv'd she was not pressing for our Stay, but rather urging our
+Departure. _Erizo_, _Erizo_, this Block must be remov'd, he has stepped
+between you and a Command to Day, and perhaps may lye between me and my
+Mistress to Night.' 'By Hell (answered _Erizo_) thou hast raised a Fury
+in me, that will not be lulled asleep, but by a Potion of his Blood;
+let's dispatch this Blockhead first': And running at the Footman, with
+one Thrust killed him. _Dangerfield_ by this time had been let out, and
+hearing the Noise, ran to the Place; they presently assaulted him; he
+defended himself very bravely the space of some Minutes, having wounded
+_Gonzago_ in the Breast; when _Rinaldo_ hearing the Noise, came out; but
+too late for _Dangerfield's_ Relief, and too soon for his own Fate; for
+_Gonzago_, exasperated by his Wound, ran treacherously behind
+_Dangerfield_, and thrust him quite thro' the Body. He finding the
+mortal Wound, and wild with Rage, thrust desperately forward at _Erizo_,
+when at the instant _Rinaldo_ striking in between to part them, received
+_Dangerfield's_ Sword in his Body, which pierced him quite thro'. He no
+sooner fell, than _Dangerfield_ perceived his fatal Error, and the other
+Two fled. _Dangerfield_ curs'd his Fate, and begg'd with all the Prayers
+and Earnestness of a dying Man, that _Rinaldo_ wou'd forgive him. 'Oh!'
+said _Rinaldo_, 'you have ill rewarded me for my Care in your Concerns
+in the Senate to Day.' The Servants coming out, took up _Rinaldo_, and
+_Dangerfield_ leaning upon his Sword, they led him in. _Belvideera_
+first heard the Noise, and running down first met the horrid Spectacle,
+her dear Father breathing out his last, and her Lover, whom she had all
+that Day flattered her self with Hopes of seeing, she now beheld in
+Streams of his Blood; but what must poor _Maria's_ Case be? besides the
+Grief for her Father's Fate, she must view that dear Man, lately Happy
+in her Embraces, now folded in the Arms of Death, she finds herself
+bereft of a Parent, her Love, her Honour, and the Defender of it, all at
+once; and the greatest Torment is, that she must bear all this Anguish,
+and cannot Ease her Soul by expressing it. _Belvideera_ sat wiping the
+Blood from her Father's Wound, whilst mournful _Maria_ sat by
+_Dangerfield_, administring all the Help she cou'd to his fainting
+Spirits; whilst he viewed her with greater Excess of Grief, than he had
+heretofore with Pleasure; being sensible what was the Force of her
+silent Grief, and the Wrong he had done her, which now he cou'd never
+Redress: He had accidentally dropt his Wig in the Engagement, and
+inclining his Head over the Couch where he lay, _Rinaldo_ casting his
+Eye upon him, perceiv'd the Mark of a bloody Dagger on his Neck, under
+his left Ear: 'Sir, (said _Rinaldo_, raising himself�up) I�conjure you
+answer me directly, were you born with the Mark of that Dagger, or have
+you received it since by Accident.' 'I�was certainly born with it,'
+answer'd he. 'Just such a Mark had my Son _Cosmo_, who was lost in the
+_Adriatick_.' 'How! (reply'd _Dangerfield_, starting up with a wild
+Confusion) Lost! say'st thou in the _Adriatick_? Your Son lost in the
+_Adriatick_?' 'Yes, yes,' said _Rinaldo_, 'too surely lost in the
+_Adriatick_.' 'O ye impartial Powers (said _Dangerfield_), why did you
+not reveal this before? Or why not always conceal it? How happy had been
+the Discovery some few Hours ago, and how Tragical is it now? For know,'
+continued he, addressing himself to _Rinaldo_, 'know that my suppos'd
+Father, who was a _Turky_ Merchant, upon his Death-bed call'd me to him,
+and told me 'twas time to undeceive me, I�was not his Son, he found me
+in the _Adriatick_ Sea, ty'd to two Planks in his Voyage from _Smyrna_
+to _London_; having no Children, he educated me as his own, and finding
+me worth his Care, left me all his Inheritance with this dying Command,
+that I shou'd seek my Parents at _Venice_.' _Belvideera_ hearkning all
+this while to the lamentable Story, then conjectured whence proceeded
+the natural Affection the whole Family bore him, and embracing him,
+cry'd out, 'Oh my unhappy Brother.' _Maria_ all the while had strong and
+wild Convulsions of Sorrow within her, 'till the working Force of her
+Anguish racking at once all the Passages of her Breast, by a violent
+Impulse, broke the Ligament that doubled in her Tongue, and she burst
+out with this Exclamation; 'Oh! Incest, Incest.' _Dangerfield_ eccho'd
+that Outcry with this, 'O! Horror, Horror, I�have enjoy'd my Sister, and
+murder'd my Father.' _Maria_ running distracted about the Chamber, at
+last spy'd _Dangerfield's_ Sword, by which he had supported himself into
+the House, and catching it up, reeking with the Blood of her Father,
+plung'd it into her Heart, and throwing herself into _Dangerfield's_
+Arms, calls out, 'O�my Brother, O�my Love,' and expir'd. All the
+Neighbourhood was soon alarm'd by the Out-cries of the Family. I�lodged
+within three Doors of _Rinaldo's_ House, and running presently thither,
+saw a more bloody Tragedy in Reality, than what the most moving Scene
+ever presented; the Father and Daughter were both dead, the unfortunate
+Son was gasping out his last, and the surviving Sister most miserable,
+because she must survive such Misfortunes, cry'd to me; 'O! behold the
+Fate of your wretched Countryman.' I�cou'd make no Answer, being struck
+dumb by the Horror of such woeful Objects; but _Dangerfield_ hearing her
+name his Country, turning towards me, with a languishing and weak Tone,
+'Madam,' said he, 'I�was your Countryman, and wou'd to Heavens I were so
+still; if you hear my Story mention'd, on your Return to _England_, pray
+give these strange Turns of my Fate not the Name of Crimes, but favour
+them with the Epithet of Misfortunes; my Name is not Dangerfield, but
+_Cla_--' His Voice there fail'd him, and he presently dy'd; Death
+seeming more favourable than himself, concealing the fatal Author of so
+many Misfortunes, for I cou'd never since learn out his Name; but have
+done him the justice, I�hope, to make him be pity'd for his Misfortunes,
+not hated for his Crimes. _Francisco_ being sent for, had _Gonzago_ and
+_Erizo_ apprehended, condemn'd, and executed. _Belvideera_ consign'd all
+her Father's Estate over to her Uncle, reserving only a Competency to
+maintain her a Recluse all the rest of her Life.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Dumb Virgin.
+
+
+p. 429 _Dangerfield._ This name is not to be found in any one of Mrs.
+Behn's plays, but as it does occur in Sedley's _Bellamira; or, The
+Mistress_ (1687), one can only conclude that Aphra gave it to Sir
+Charles and altered her own character's nomenclature. Mrs. Behn, it may
+be remembered, was more than once extraordinarily careless with regard
+to the names of the Dramatis Person� in her comedies. A�striking example
+occurs in _Sir Patient Fancy_, where the 'precise clerk' is called both
+Abel and Bartholomew. In _The Feign'd Curtezans_ Silvio and Sabina are
+persistently confused, and again, in _The Town Fop_ (Vol. III, p.�15 and
+p.�20), the name Dresswell is retained for Friendlove. Sedley's
+_Bellamira_ is derived from Terence's _Eunuchus_, and Dangerfield is
+Thraso; the Pyrgopolinices, Miles Gloriosus, of Plautus.
+
+
+Cross-Reference from Introduction: _The Dumb Virgin_
+
+Beginning: Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so
+romantically and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt
+with in happier mood by Mrs. Behn in _The Dutch Lover_. _Vide_ Note on
+the Source of that play, Vol. I, p.�218.
+
+  Vol. I, p. 218, beginning of "Source" section:
+
+  Mrs. Behn founded the plot of _The Dutch Lover_ upon the stories
+  of Eufemie and Theodore, Don Jame and Frederic, in a pseudo-Spanish
+  novel entitled '_The History of Don Fenise_, a new Romance written
+  in Spanish by Francisco de Las Coveras, And now Englished by a
+  Person of Honour, London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley,' 8vo, 1651.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE WANDERING BEAUTY.
+
+
+I was not above twelve Years old, as near as I can remember, when a Lady
+of my Acquaintance, who was particularly concern'd in many of the
+Passages, very pleasantly entertain'd me with the Relation of the young
+Lady _Arabella's_ Adventures, who was eldest Daughter to Sir _Francis
+Fairname_, a Gentleman of a noble Family, and of a very large Estate in
+the West of _England_, a true Church-Man, a�great Loyalist, and a most
+discreetly-indulgent Parent; nor was his Lady any Way inferiour to him
+in every Circumstance of Virtue. They had only two Children more, and
+those were of the soft, unhappy Sex too; all very beautiful, especially
+_Arabella_, and all very much alike; piously educated, and courtly too,
+of naturally-virtuous Principles and Inclinations.
+
+'Twas about the sixteenth Year of her Age, that Sir _Robert Richland_,
+her Father's great Friend and inseparable Companion, but superiour to
+him in Estate as well as Years, felt the resistless Beauty of this young
+Lady raging and burning in his aged Veins, which had like to have been
+as fatal to him, as a Consumption, or his Climacterical Year of Sixty
+Three, in which he dy'd, as I am told, though he was then hardly Sixty.
+However, the Winter Medlar would fain have been inoculated in the
+Summer's Nacturine. His unseasonable Appetite grew so strong and
+inordinate, that he was oblig'd to discover it to Sir _Francis_; who,
+though he lov'd him very sincerely, had yet a Regard to his Daughter's
+Youth, and Satisfaction in the Choice of a Husband; especially, when he
+consider'd the great Disproportion in their Age, which he rightly
+imagin'd would be very disagreeable to _Arabella's_ Inclinations: This
+made him at first use all the most powerful and perswading Arguments in
+his Capacity, to convince Sir _Robert_ of the Inequality of such a
+Match, but all to no Purpose; for his Passion increasing each Day more
+violently, the more assiduously, and with the greater Vehemence, he
+press'd his Friend to use his Interest and Authority with his Lady and
+Daughter, to consent to his almost unnatural Proposition; offering this
+as the most weighty and prevailing Argument, (which undoubtedly it was,)
+That since he was a Batchelor, he would settle his whole Estate upon
+her, if she surviv'd him, on the Day of Marriage, not desiring one Penny
+as a Portion with her. This Discourse wrought so powerfully with her
+Mother, that she promis'd the old Lover all the Assistance he could hope
+or expect from her: In order to which, the next Day she acquainted her
+fair Daughter with the Golden Advantage she was like to have, if she
+would but consent _to lye by the Parchment that convey'd them to her_.
+The dear, fair Creature, was so surpriz'd at this Overture made by her
+Mother, that her Roses turn'd all into Lillies, and she had like to have
+swoon'd away; but having a greater Command of her Passions than usually
+our Sex have, and chiefly Persons of her Age, she, after some little
+Disorder, which by no Means she could dissemble, she made as dutiful a
+Return to her Mother's Proposition, as her Aversion to it would permit;
+and, for that Time, got Liberty to retreat, and lament in private the
+Misfortune which she partly fore-saw was impending. But her Grief (alas)
+was no Cure of her Malady; for the next Day she was again doubly
+attack'd by her Father and Mother, with all the Reasons that Interest
+and Duty could urge, which she endeavour'd to obviate by all the
+Arguments that Nature and Inclination could offer; but she found them
+all in vain, since they continu'd their ungrateful Solicitations for
+several Days together, at the End of which, they both absolutely
+commanded her to prepare her self for her Nuptials with Sir _Robert_; so
+that finding her self under a Necessity of complying, or at least of
+seeming so, she made 'em hope, that her Duty had overcome her Aversion;
+upon which she had a whole Week's Liberty to walk where she would,
+unattended, or with what Company she pleas'd, and to make Visits to whom
+she had a Mind, either of her Relations or Acquaintance thereabouts;
+tho' for three or four Days before, she was strictly confin'd to her
+Chamber.
+
+After Dinner, on the third Day of her Enlargement, being Summer Time,
+she propos'd to her Mother that she would take a Walk to a Cousin of
+hers, who liv'd about four Miles thence, to intreat her to be one of her
+Bride-Maids, being then in a careless plain Dress, and having before
+discours'd very pleasantly and freely of her Wedding-Day, of what
+Friends she would have invited to that Solemnity, and what Hospitality
+Sir _Robert_ should keep when she was marry'd to him: All which was
+highly agreeable to her Parents, who then could not forbear thanking and
+kissing her for it, which she return'd to 'em both with a Shower of
+Tears. This did not a little surprize 'em at first, but asking her what
+could cause such Signs of Sorrow, after so chearful a Discourse on the
+late Subject? She answer'd, 'That the Thoughts of her going now suddenly
+to live from so dear and tender a Father and Mother, were the sole
+Occasion of such Expressions of Grief.' This affectionate Reply did
+amply satisfy their Doubts; and she presently took Leave of 'em, after
+having desir'd that they would not be uneasy if she should not return
+'till a little before 'twas dark, or if her Cousin should oblige her to
+stay all Night with her; which they took for a discreet Caution in her,
+considering that young Maidens love dearly to talk of Marriage Affairs,
+especially when so near at Hand: And thus easily parted with her, when
+they had walk'd with her about a Mile, over a Field or two of their own.
+
+Never before that Time was the dear Creature glad that her Father and
+Mother had left her, unless when they had press'd her to a Marriage with
+the old Knight. They were therefore no sooner got out of Sight, e're she
+took another Path, that led cross the Country, which she persu'd 'till
+past eight at Night, having walk'd ten Miles since two a Clock, when Sir
+_Francis_ and her Mother left her: She was just now got to a little
+Cottage, the poor, but cleanly Habitation of a Husbandman and his Wife,
+who had one only Child, a�Daughter, about the Lady _Arabella's_ Age and
+Stature. 'Twas happy for her she got thither before they were a Bed; for
+her soft and beautiful Limbs began now to be tir'd, and her tender Feet
+to be gall'd. To the good Woman of the House she applies her self,
+desiring Entertainment for that Night, offering her any reasonable
+Satisfaction. The good Wife, at first Sight of her, had Compassion of
+her, and immediately bid her walk in, telling her, that she might lye
+with her Daughter, if she pleas'd, who was very cleanly, tho' not very
+vine. The good Man of the House came in soon after, was very well
+pleas'd with his new Guest; so to Supper they went very seasonably; for
+the poor young Lady, who was e'en ready to faint with Thirst, and not
+overcharg'd with what she had eaten the Day before. After Supper they
+ask'd her whence she came, and how she durst venture to travel alone,
+and a Foot? To which she reply'd, That she came from a Relation who
+liv'd at _Exeter_, with whom she had stay'd 'till she found she was
+burthensome: That she was of _Welsh_ Parents, and of a good Family; but
+her Father dying, left a cruel Mother-in-Law, with whom she could by no
+Means continue, especially since she would have forc'd her to marry an
+old Man, whom it was impossible she should love, tho' he was very rich:
+That she was now going to seek her Fortune in _London_, where she hop'd,
+at least, to get her a good Service. They all seem'd to pity her very
+heartily; and, in a little Time after, they went to their two several
+Apartments, in one of which _Arabella_ and the Damsel of the House went
+to Bed, where the young Lady slept soundly, notwithstanding the Hardness
+of her Lodging. In the Morning, about Four, according to her laudable
+Custom, the young hardy Maiden got up to her daily Employment; which
+waken'd _Arabella_, who presently bethought her self of an Expedient for
+her more secure and easy Escape from her Parents Pursuit and Knowledge,
+proposing to her Bedfellow an Exchange of their Wearing-Apparel. The
+Heiress and Hope of that little Family was extreamly fond of the
+Proposal, and ran immediately to acquaint her Mother with it, who was so
+well pleas'd, that she could hardly believe it, when the young Lady
+confirm'd it, and especially, when she understood the Exchange was to be
+made on even Hands. 'If you be in earnest, Forsooth, (said the Mother)
+you shall e'en have her Sunday-Cloaths.' 'Agreed (return'd _Arabella_)
+but we must change Shifts too; I�have now a Couple about me, new and
+clean, I�do assure you: For my Hoods and Head-dress you shall give me
+two Pinners, and her best Straw-Hat; and for my Shoes, which I have not
+worn above a Week, I�will have her Holliday Shoes.' 'A�Match, indeed,
+young Mistress,' cry'd the good Wife. So without more Ceremony, the
+young unhappy Lady was attir'd in her Bedfellow's Country Weeds, by Help
+of the Mother and Daughter. Then, after she had taken her Leave of the
+good old Man too, she put a broad round Shilling into his Wife's Hand,
+as a Reward for her Supper and Lodging, which she would fain have
+return'd, but t'other would not receive it. 'Nay, then, by the Mackins,
+(said her Hostess) you shall take a Breakfast e're you go, and a Dinner
+along with you, for Fear you should be sick by the Way.' _Arabella_
+stay'd to eat a Mess of warm Milk, and took some of their Yesterday's
+Provision with her in a little course Linnen Bag. Then asking for the
+direct Road to _London_, and begging a few green Wall-nuts, she took her
+last Farewel of them.
+
+Near Twelve at Noon she came to a pleasant Meadow, through which there
+ran a little Rivulet of clear Water, about nine miles from her last
+Lodging, but quite out of the Way to _London_. Here she sate down, and
+after drinking some of the Water out of the Hollow of her Hand, she
+open'd her Bag, and made as good a Meal as the Courseness of the Fare,
+and the Niceness of her Appetite would permit: After which, she bruis'd
+the outward green Shells of a Wall-nut or two, and smear'd her lovely
+Face, Hands, and Part of her Arms, with the Juice; then looking into the
+little purling Stream, that seem'd to murmur at the Injury she did to so
+much Beauty, she sigh'd and wept, to think to what base Extremities she
+was now likely to be reduc'd! That she should be forc'd to stain that
+Skin which Heaven had made so pure and white! 'But ah! (cry'd she to her
+self) if my Disobedience to my Parents had not stain'd my Conscience
+worse, this needed not to have been done.' Here she wept abundantly
+again; then, drying her Eyes, she wash'd her Feet to refresh 'em, and
+thence continu'd her Journey for ten Miles more, which she compass'd by
+seven a Clock; when she came to a Village, where she got Entertainment
+for that Night, paying for it, and the next Morning, before Six, as soon
+as she had fill'd her little Bag with what good Chear the Place
+afforded, she wander'd on 'till Twelve again, still crossing the
+Country, and taking her Course to the Northern Parts of _England_, which
+doubtless was the Reason her Father and his Servants miss'd of her in
+their Pursuit; for he imagin'd that for certain she had taken her
+nearest Way to _London_. After she had refresh'd her self for an Hour's
+Time by the Side of a Wood, she arose and wander'd again near twelve
+Miles by eight a Clock, and lodg'd at a good substantial Farmer's.
+
+Thus she continu'd her Errantry for above a Fortnight, having no more
+Money than just thirty Shillings, half of which brought her to Sir
+_Christian Kindly's_ House in _Lancashire_. 'Twas near five a Clock in
+the Afternoon when she reach'd that happy Port, when, coming to the Hall
+Door, she enquir'd for the Lady of the House, who happily was just
+coming into the Hall with a little Miss in her Arms, of about four Years
+old, very much troubled with weak and sore Eyes: The fair Wanderer,
+addressing her self to the Lady with all the Humility and Modesty
+imaginable, begg'd to know if her Ladyship had any Place in her Family
+vacant, in which she might do her Service? To which the Lady return'd,
+(by�Way of Question) Alas! poor Creature! what canst thou do? Any thing,
+may it please your Ladyship, (reply'd the disguis'd Beauty) any thing
+within my Strength and my Knowledge, I�mean, Madam. Thou say'st well,
+(said the Lady) and I'm sorry I have not any vacant for thee. I�beseech
+your Ladyship then (said _Arabella_) let me lodge in your Barn to-Night;
+for I am told it is a great Way hence to any Town, and I have but little
+Money. In my Barn, poor Girl! (cry'd the Lady, looking very earnestly on
+her) ay, God forbid else, unless we can find a better Lodging for thee.
+Art thou hungry or thirsty? Yes, Madam (reply'd the wandering Fair One)
+I�could both eat and drink, if it please your Ladyship. The Lady
+commanded Victuals and Drink to be brought, and could not forbear
+staying in the Hall 'till she had done; when she ask'd her several
+Questions, as of what Country she was? To which she answer'd truly, of
+_Somersetshire_. What her Parents were, and if living? To which she
+return'd, They were good, honest, and religious People, and she hop'd
+they were alive, and in as good Health as when she left 'em. After the
+Lady had done catechising her, _Arabella_, looking on the little Child
+in her Ladyship's Arms, said, Pardon me, Madam, I�beseech you, if I am
+too bold in asking your Ladyship how that pretty Creature's Eyes came to
+be so bad? By an extream Cold which she took, (reply'd the Lady.) I�had
+not presum'd (return'd t'other) to have ask'd your Ladyship this
+Question, were I not assur'd that I have an infallible Cure for the
+Infirmity; and if, Madam, you will be pleas'd to let me apply it, I�will
+tell your Ladyship the Remedy in private. The Lady was much surpriz'd to
+hear a young Creature, so meanly habited, talk so genteelly; and after
+surveying her very strictly, said the Lady, Have you ever experienc'd it
+before? Yes, Madam (reply'd the fair Physician) and never without happy
+Success: I�dare engage, Madam, (added she) that I will make 'em as well
+as my own, by God's Blessing, or else I will be content to lose mine,
+which Heaven forbid. Amen, (cry'd the good Lady) for they are very fine
+ones, on my Word.--Stay, Child, I�will desire Sir _Christian_ to hear it
+with me; and if he approves it, you shall about it; and if it take good
+Effect, we will endeavour to requite the Care and Pains it shall cost
+you. Saying thus, she immediately left her, and return'd very speedily
+with Sir _Christian_, who having discours'd _Arabella_ for some time,
+with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, took her into the Parlour with his
+Lady, where she communicated her Secret to 'em both; which they found so
+innocent and reasonable, that they desir'd her to prepare it as soon as
+possible, and to make her Application of it with all convenient Speed;
+which she could not do 'till the next Morning. In the mean Time she was
+order'd a Lodging with the House-Maid, who reported to her Lady, That
+she found her a very sweet and cleanly Bed-fellow; (adding) That she
+never saw nor felt so white, so smooth, and soft a Skin. _Arabella_
+continu'd her Remedy with such good Success, that in a Fortnight's Time
+little Miss's Eyes were as lively and strong as ever. This so endear'd
+her to the Knight and his Lady, that they created a new Office in their
+Family, purposely for her, which was, Attendant on their eldest Daughter
+_Eleanora_, a Lady much about her Years and Stature; who was so charm'd
+with her Conversation, that she could not stir Abroad, nor eat, nor
+sleep, without _Peregrina Goodhouse_ (for those were the Names she
+borrow'd:) Nor was her Modesty, Humility, and Sweetness of Temper, less
+engaging to her Fellow-Servants, who all strove which should best
+express their Love to her. On Festival-Days, and for the Entertainment
+of Strangers, she would lend her helping Hand to the Cook, and make the
+Sauce for every Dish, though her own Province was only to attend the
+young Lady, and prepare the Quidlings, and other Sweet-Meats, for the
+Reception of Sir _Christian's_ Friends; all which she did to Admiration.
+In this State of easy Servitude she liv'd there for near three Years,
+very well contented at all Times, but when she bethought her self of her
+Father, Mother, and Sisters, courted by all the principal Men-Servants,
+whom she refus'd in so obliging a Manner, and with such sweet, obliging
+Words, that they could not think themselves injur'd, though they found
+their Addresses were in vain. Mr. _Prayfast_, the Chaplain himself,
+could not hold out against her Charms. For her Skin had long since
+recover'd its native Whiteness; nor did she need Ornaments of Cloaths to
+set her Beauty off, if any Thing could adorn her, since she was dress'd
+altogether as costly, though not so richly (perhaps) as _Eleanora_.
+_Prayfast_ therefore found that the Spirit was too weak for the Flesh,
+and gave her very broad Signs of his Kindness in Sonnets, Anagrams, and
+Acrosticks, which she receiv'd very obligingly of him, taking a more
+convenient Time to laugh at 'em with her young Lady.
+
+Her kind Reception of them encourag'd him to that Degree, that within a
+few Days after, supposing himself secure on her Side, he apply'd himself
+to the good old Knight, his Patron, for his Consent to a Marriage with
+her, who very readily comply'd with his Demands, esteeming it a very
+advantagious Match for _Peregrina_, and withal told him, That he would
+give him three hundred Pounds with her, besides the first Benefit that
+should fall in his Gift. But (said�he) as I doubt not that you are
+sufficiently acquainted with her Virtues and other excellent
+Qualifications, 'tis necessary that you should know the worst that I can
+tell you of her, which is, that she came to us a meer Stranger, in a
+very mean, tho' cleanly Habit; and therefore, as she confesseth, we may
+conclude, of very humble, yet honest Parentage. A! (possibly) her Father
+might have been, or is, some Husbandman, or somewhat inferiour to that;
+for we took her up at the Door, begging one Night's Entertainment in the
+Barn. How, Sir! (cry'd _Prayfast_, starting) have you no better
+Knowledge of her Birth, than what you are pleas'd to discover now? No
+better, nor more (reply'd the Knight.) Alas! Sir, then (return'd the
+proud canonical Sort of a Farmer) she is no Wife for me; I�shall
+dishonour my Family by marrying so basely. Were you never told any Thing
+of this before? (ask'd the Knight.) You know, Sir, (answer'd the Prelate
+that would�be) that I have not had the Honour to officiate, as your
+Chaplain, much more than half a Year; in which Time, 'tis true, I�have
+heard that she was receiv'd as a Stranger; but that she came in so low a
+Capacity I never learn'd 'till now. I�find then, Parson, (said the
+Knight) that you do not like the Author of your Happiness, at least, who
+might be so, because she comes to you in such an humble Manner; I�tell
+you the _Jews_ are miserable for the same Reason. She cannot be such
+perfectly to me (return'd t'other) without the Advantage of good Birth.
+With that I'm sure she would not, return'd his Patron, and left him to
+go to _Peregrina_, whom he happily found alone. Child, (said he to her)
+have you any Obligation to Mr. _Prayfast_? As how, Sir? She ask'd. Do
+you love him? Have you made him any Promise of Marriage? Or has he any
+Way engag'd himself to you? Neither, Sir, (she answer'd.) 'Tis true,
+I�love him as my Fellow-Servant, no otherwise. He has indeed been
+somewhat lavish of his Wit and Rhimes to me, which serv'd well enough to
+divert my young Lady and me. But of all Mankind, perhaps, he should be
+the last I would choose for a Husband. I�thought (said the good-humour'd
+old Knight) that he had already obtain'd a Promise from you, since he
+came but just now to ask my Consent, which I freely gave him at first,
+upon that Thought; but he is doubtful of your Birth, and fears it may
+dishonour his Family, if he should marry you. On my Word, Sir, (return'd
+_Peregrina_, blushing with Disdain, no doubt) our Families are by no
+Means equal. What thy Family is, I�know not; (said Sir _Christian_) but
+I am sure thou art infinitely superiour to him in all the natural
+Embelishments both of Body and Mind. Be just to thy self, and be not
+hasty to wed: Thou hast more Merit than Wealth alone can purchase. O!
+dear Sir, (she return'd) you ruin me with Obligations never to be
+re-paid, but in Acknowledgment, and that imperfectly too. Here they were
+interrupted by the young Lady, to whom she repeated the Conference
+betwixt Sir _Christian_ and _Prayfast_, as soon as ever Sir _Christian_
+left the Room.
+
+About a Week after, Sir _Lucius Lovewell_, (a young Gentleman, of a good
+Presence, Wit, and Learning enough, whose Father, dying near a
+Twelve-month before, had left him upwards of 3000_l._ a Year, which,
+too, was an excellent Accomplishment, tho' not the best; for he was
+admirably good-humour'd) came to visit Sir _Christian Kindly_; and, as
+some of the Family imagin'd, 'twas with Design to make his Addresses to
+the young Lady, Sir _Christian's_ Daughter. Whatever his Thoughts were,
+his Treatment, there, was very generous and kind. He saw the Lady, and
+lik'd her very well; nay, doubtless, would have admitted a Passion for
+her, had not his Destiny at the same Time shewn him _Peregrina_. She was
+very beautiful, and he as sensible; and 'tis not to be doubted, but that
+he immediately took Fire. However, his Application and Courtship, free
+and unaffected, were chiefly directed to Sir _Christian's_ Daughter:
+Some little Respects he paid to _Peregrina_, who could not choose but
+look on him as a very fine, good-humour'd, and well-accomplish'd
+Gentleman. When the Hour came that he thought fit to retreat, Sir
+_Christian_ ask'd him, When he would make 'em happy again in his
+Conversation? To which he return'd, That since he was not above seven or
+eight Miles from him, and that there were Charms so attractive at Sir
+_Christian's_, he should take the Liberty to visit him sooner and
+oftener than he either expected or desir'd. T'other reply'd, That was
+impossible; and so, without much more Ceremony, he took his Leave of
+that delightful Company for two or three Days; at the End of which he
+return'd, with Thoughts much different from those at his first Coming
+thither, being strongly agitated by his Passion for _Peregrina_. He took
+and made all the Opportunities and Occasions that Chance and his own
+Fancy could offer and present to talk to her, both before, at, and after
+Dinner; and his Eyes were so constantly fix'd on her, that he seem'd to
+observe nothing else; which was so visible to Sir _Christian_, his Lady,
+and Daughter, that they were convinc'd of their Error, in believing,
+that he came to make his Court to the young Lady. This late Discovery of
+the young Knight's Inclinations, was no Way unpleasant to Sir
+_Christian_ and his Lady; and to the young Lady it was most agreeable
+and obliging, since her Heart was already pre-engag'd elsewhere; and
+since she did equally desire the good fortune of her beautiful Attendant
+with her own.
+
+The Table was no sooner clear'd, and a loyal Health or two gone round,
+e're Sir _Christian_ ask'd his young amorous Guest to take a Walk with
+him in the Gardens: To which Sir _Lucius_ readily consented, designing
+to disclose that to him for a Secret, which was but too apparent to all
+that were present at Table: When therefore he thought he had
+sufficiently admir'd and commended the Neatness of the Walks and Beauty
+of the Flowers, he began, to this Effect:
+
+Possibly, Sir _Christian_, I shall surprize you with the Discourse I'm
+going to make you; but 'tis certain no Man can avoid the Necessity of
+the Fate which he lies under; at least I have now found it so.--I came
+at first, Sir, with the Hopes of prevailing on you to honour and make me
+happy in a Marriage with Madam _Eleanora_ your Daughter; but at the same
+Instant I was seiz'd with so irresistable a Passion for the charming
+_Peregrina_, that I find no Empire, Fame, nor Wit, can make me perfectly
+bless'd here below, without the Enjoyment of that beautiful Creature. Do
+not mistake me, Sir, (I�beseech you, continu'd�he) I�mean an _honourable
+Enjoyment_.--I will make her my Wife, Sir, if you will be generously
+pleas'd to use your Interest with her on my Part.
+
+To which the good old Knight reply'd, What you think (Sir) you have now
+imparted as a Secret, has been the general Observation of all my Family,
+e're since you gave us the Happiness of your Company to Day: Your
+Passion is too great to be disguis'd; and I am extremely pleas'd, that
+you can think any Thing in my House worthy the Honour you intend
+_Peregrina_. Indeed, had you made any particular and publick Address to
+my Daughter, I�should have believ'd it want of Merit in her, or in us,
+her Parents, that you should, after that, quit your Pretensions to her,
+without any willing or known Offence committed on our Side. I�therefore
+(Sir) approve your Choice, and promise you my utmost Assistance afar.
+She is really virtuous in all the Latitude of Virtue; her Beauty is too
+visible to be disputed ev'n by Envy it self: As for her Birth, she best
+can inform you of it; I�must only let you know, that, as her Name
+imports, she was utterly a Stranger, and entertain'd by us in pure
+Charity. But the Antiquity and Honour of your Family can receive no
+Diminution by a Match with a beautiful and virtuous Creature, for whom,
+you say, and I believe, you have so true a Passion. I�have now told you
+the worst (Sir) that I know of her; but your Wealth and Love may make
+you both eternally happy on Earth. And so they shall, _by her dear
+self_, (return'd the amorous Knight) if both of 'em may recommend me to
+her, with your Perswasions added, which still I beg. Say, rather you
+command; and with those three hundred Pounds which I promis'd her, if
+she marry'd with my Consent to Mr. _Prayfast_.
+
+To this, the other smiling, reply'd, Her Person and Love is all I court
+or expect, Sir: But since you have thought her worthy of so great an
+Expression of your Favour and Kindness, I�will receive it with all
+Humility as is from a Father, which I shall ever esteem you.--But see,
+Sir, (cry'd he in an Extasy) how she comes, led by Madam _Eleanora_,
+your Daughter. The young Lady coming to him, began thus: I�know (Sir)
+'tis my Father and Mother's Desire and Ambition to shew you the
+heartiest Welcome in their Power, which can by no Means be made appear
+so particularly and undisputably, as by presenting you with what you
+like best in the Family: In Assurance therefore that I shall merit their
+Favour by this Act, I�have brought your dear _Peregrina_ to you, not
+without Advice, and some Instructions of mine, that may concern her
+Happiness with you, if discreetly observ'd and persu'd by her. In short,
+(Sir) I�have told her, that a Gentleman of so good a Figure, such
+excellent Parts, and generous Education, of so ancient and honourable a
+Family, together with so plentiful an Estate as you at present possess,
+is capable of bringing Happiness to any, the fairest Lady in this
+Country at least. O�Madam! (return'd Sir _Lucius_) your Obligation is so
+great, that I want Sense to receive it as I ought; much more Words to
+return you any proportionable Acknowledgment of it. But give me Leave to
+say thus much, Madam; that my Thoughts of making my Court to your
+Ladiship, first invited me to give Sir _Christian_, your Father, the
+Trouble of a Visit, since the Death of mine. However, the over-ruling
+Powers have thought to divert my Purpose, and the offering of my Heart,
+which can never rest, but with this dear charming Creature.--Your
+Merits, Madam--are sufficient for the Gentleman on whom I entirely fix'd
+my Affections, before you did me the Honour and your self the Trouble of
+your first Visit (interrupted Sir _Christian's_ Daughter.) And now, Sir,
+(added she to her Father) if you please, let us leave 'em to make an End
+of this Business between themselves. No, Madam, (cry'd Sir _Lucius_)
+your Father has promis'd me to make Use of his Interest with her for my
+Sake. This I now expect, Sir. Then (said the old Knight) thou dear
+beautiful and virtuous Stranger! if I have any Power to perswade thee,
+take my Advice, and this honourable Gentleman to thy loving Husband; I'm
+sure he'll prove so to thee. If I could command thee I would. Ah Sir!
+(said she, kneeling, with Tears falling from her charming Eyes) I�know
+none living that has greater Right and Power.--But (alas Sir!) this
+honourable Person knows not the Meanness of my Birth, at least, he
+cannot think it any Way proportionable or suitable to his. O�thou dear
+Creature, (cry'd her Lover, setting one Knee to the Ground, and taking
+her�up) Sir _Christian_ has already discours'd all thy Circumstances to
+me: Rise and bless me with thy Consent. I�must ask my Lady's, Sir, (she
+reply'd.) See, here my Mother comes (said the young Lady) and entreated
+her good Word for Sir _Lucius_. The good ancient Lady began then to use
+all the Arguments to incline her to yield to her Happiness; and, in
+fine, she was prevail'd on to say, I�do consent, and will endeavour to
+deserve the honourable Title of your dutiful Wife, Sir. 'Twas with no
+common Joy and Transport that he receiv'd her Hand, and kiss'd those
+dear Lips that gave him an Assurance of his Happiness; which he resolv'd
+should begin about a Month or two afterwards; in which Time he might
+send Orders to _London_ for the making their Wedding Cloaths. Into the
+House then they all went, Sir _Lucius_ leading _Peregrina_, and the
+first they met of the Family was _Prayfast_, who was not a little
+surpriz'd nor discompos'd at that Sight; and more especially when Sir
+_Christian_ told him, That tho' he did not think that beautiful sweet
+Stranger worthy the Title of his Wife, yet now he should be oblig'd to
+join her to that honourable Person. The Slave bow'd, and look'd very
+pale.
+
+All Things were at last got ready for the Consummation of their Bliss,
+and _Prayfast_ did their Business effectually, tho' much against his
+Will; however he receiv'd the Reward of twenty Broad Pieces. The Wedding
+was kept for a Week at Sir _Christian's_ House; after which they
+adjourn'd to the Bridegroom's, where it lasted as long as Sir
+_Christian_, his Lady, Daughter, and the rest of that Family would stay.
+As they were leaving him, Sir _Lucius_ dispos'd of two hundred Pounds
+amongst Sir _Christian's_ Servants, and the rest of the three hundred he
+distributed among the Poor of both Parishes.
+
+When they were gone, the affectionate tender Bridegroom could by no
+Means be perswaded by any Gentlemen, his Neighbours, to hunt with 'em,
+or to take any Divertisement, tho' but for half a Day; esteeming it the
+highest Unkindness imaginable to leave his Lady: Not that she could be
+alone neither in his Absence; for she never wanted the Visits of all the
+Ladies round about, and those of the best Quality; who were equally
+charm'd with her Sweetness of Temper, as the Men were with her outward
+Beauties. But in a Month's time, or thereabout, observing that he was
+continually solicited and courted to some Sport or Pastime with those
+Gentlemen of his Neighbourhood, she was forc'd to do her self the
+Violence to beg of him that he would divert himself with 'em, as before
+their Marriage he us'd: And she had so good Success, that he did allow
+himself two Days in the Week to hunt: In one of which, coming Home about
+five a Clock, and not finding his Lady below Stairs, he went directly up
+to her Chamber, where he saw her leaning her Head on her Hand, and her
+Handkerchief all bath'd in Tears. At this Sight he was strangely amaz'd
+and concern'd. Madam, (cry'd he in an unusual Tone) what means such
+Postures as these? Tell me! For I must know the Occasion. Surpriz'd, and
+trembling at this his unwonted Manner of saluting her, she started up,
+and then, falling on her Knees, she wept out, O�thou dear Author and
+Lord of all my Joys on Earth! Look not, I�beseech you, so wildly, nor
+speak terribly to me! Thou Center of all my Happiness below,
+(return'd�he) rise, and make me acquainted with the dreadful Occasion of
+this afflicting and tormenting Sight! All you shall know, (she reply'd)
+dearest of human Blessings! But sit, and change your Looks; then I can
+speak. Speak then, my Life, (said�he) but tell me all; all I must know.
+Is there a Thought about my Soul that you shall not partake? I'm sure
+there is not; (he�reply'd) say on then. You know, Sir, (she return'd)
+that I have left my Parents now three Years, or thereabouts, and know
+not whether they are living or dead: I�was reflecting, therefore, on the
+Troubles which my undutiful and long Absence may have caus'd them; for
+poor and mean as they may be, they well instructed me in all good
+Things; and I would once more, by your dear Permission, see them, and
+beg their Pardon for my Fault; for they are my Parents still, if living,
+Sir, though (unhappily) not worth your Regard. How! (cry'd�he) can that
+Pair who gave my Dearest Birth, want my Regard, or ought I can do for
+them? No! thou shalt see them, and so will I: But tell me, _Peregrina_,
+is this the only Cause of your Discomposure? So may I still be bless'd
+in your dear Love, (she reply'd) as this is Truth, and all the Cause.
+When shall we see them, then? (he�ask'd). We see them, (cry'd she) O!
+your Goodness descends too much; and you confound me with your unmerited
+and unexpected Kindness. 'Tis I alone that have offended, and I alone am
+fit to see them. That must not be; (return'd her affectionate Husband)
+no, we'll both go together; and if they want, either provide for them
+there, or take them hither with us. Your Education shews their
+Principles, and 'tis no Shame to own virtuous Relations. Come, dry thy
+dear lamenting Eyes; the Beginning of the next Week we'll set forwards.
+Was ever Disobedience so rewarded with such a Husband? (said she) those
+Tears have wash'd that childish Guilt away; and there is no Reward above
+thy Virtue.
+
+In a few Days, Monday began the Date of their Journey to the _West_ of
+_England_; and in five or six Days more, by the Help of a Coach and Six,
+they got to _Cornwall_; where, in a little Town, of little
+Accommodation, they were oblig'd to take up their Lodgings the first
+Night. In the Morning (said his Lady to him) My Dear, about a Mile and a
+half hence lives one Sir _Francis Fairname_ and his Lady, if yet they be
+living, who have a very fine House, and worth your seeing; I�beg of you
+therefore, that you will be so kind to your self as to walk thither, and
+dine with the old Gentleman; for that you must, if you see him; whilst I
+stay here, and send to my Father and Mother, if to be found, and prepare
+them to receive you at your Return. I�must not have no Denial; (added
+she) for if you refuse this Favour, all my Designs are lost.--Make
+Haste, my Life; 'tis now eleven a Clock; In your Absence I'll dress, to
+try if Change of Cloaths can hide me from them. This was so small a
+Request, that he did not stay to reply to't, but presently left her, and
+got thither in less than half an Hour, attended only by one Footman. He
+was very kindly and respectfully receiv'd by the old Gentleman, who had
+certainly been a very beautiful Person in his Youth; and Sir _Lucius_,
+fixing his Eyes upon his Face, could hardly remove 'em, being very
+pleasantly and surprisingly entertain'd with some Lines that he observ'd
+in it. But immediately recollecting himself, he told him, that having
+heard how fine a Seat that was, his Curiosity led him to beg the Favour
+that he might see it. The worthy old Knight return'd, that his House and
+all the Accommodations in it were at his Service: So inviting him in, he
+satisfy'd his pretended Curiosity; and after he had shewn all that was
+worthy the Sight of a Stranger, in the House, he led him into his
+Gardens, which furnish'd Sir _Lucius_ with new Matter of Admiration;
+whence the old Knight brought him into the Parlour, telling him, that
+'twas his Custom to suffer no Stranger to return, till he had either
+din'd or supp'd with him, according as the Hour of the Day or Night
+presented.
+
+'Twas here the affectionate Husband was strangely surpriz'd at the Sight
+of a Picture, which so nearly counterfeited the Beauties of his
+dear-lov'd Lady, that he stood like an Image himself, gazing and
+varying; the Colours of his Face agitating by the Diversity of his
+Thoughts; which Sir _Francis_ perceiving, ask'd him, What it was that so
+visibly concern'd him? To which he reply'd, That indeed he was
+concern'd, but with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, since he had never
+seen any Thing more beautiful than that Picture, unless it were a Lady
+for whom he had the most sincere Affection imaginable, and whom it did
+very nearly represent; and then enquir'd for whom that was drawn? Sir
+_Francis_ answer'd him, 'Twas design'd for one who was, I�dare not say
+who is, my Daughter; and the other two were drawn for her younger
+Sisters. And see, Sir, (persu'd�he) here they come, following their
+Mother: At which Words Sir _Lucius_ was oblig'd to divorce his Eyes from
+the charming Shadow, and make his Compliments to them; which were no
+sooner over than Dinner was serv'd in, where the young Knight eat as
+heartily as he could, considering he sate just opposite to it, and in
+Sight of the two Ladies, who were now exactly like his own Wife, though
+not so very beautiful.
+
+The Table being uncover'd, Sir _Lucius_ desir'd to know why Sir
+_Francis_ said, He doubted whether the Original of that Picture were yet
+his Daughter? To which the Mother return'd (big with Sorrow, which was
+seen in her Tears) That her Husband had spoken but too rightly: For
+(added she) 'tis now three Years since we have either seen her or heard
+from her. How, Madam! three Years, (cry'd Sir _Lucius_) I believe I can
+shew your Ladiship a dear Acquaintance of mine, so wonderfully like that
+Picture, that I am almost perswaded she is the very Original; only
+(pardon me, Madam) she tells me her Parents are of mean Birth and
+Fortune. Dear Sir, (cry'd the tender Mother) Is she in this Country? She
+is not two Miles hence, reply'd Sir _Lucius_. By all Things most dear to
+you, Sir, (said the Lady) let us be so happy as to see her, and that
+with all convenient Expedition! for it will be a Happiness to see any
+Creature, the only Like my dearest _Arabella_. _Arabella_, Madam! alas!
+No, Madam, her Name is _Peregrina_. No Matter for Names, Sir, (cry'd the
+Lady) I�want the Sight of the dear Creature. Sir, (added the worthy old
+Knight) I�can assure you it will be an eternal Obligation to us; or, if
+you please, we will wait on you to her. By no Means, Sir, (return'd Sir
+_Lucius_) I will repeat my Trouble to you with her, in an Hour at
+farthest. We shall desire the Continuance of such Trouble as long as we
+live, reply'd Sir _Francis_. So, without farther Ceremony, Sir _Lucius_
+left 'em and return'd to his Lady, whom he found ready dress'd, as he
+wish'd he might. Madam, (said�he) where are your Father and Mother?
+I�know not, yet, my Dear, she reply'd. Well, (return'd�he) we will
+expect 'em, or send for 'em hither at Night; in the mean Time I have
+engag'd to bring you with me to Sir _Francis Fairname_ and his Lady,
+with all imaginable Expedition. So immediately, as soon as Coach and Six
+and Equipage was ready, he hurry'd her away with him to Sir _Francis_,
+whom they found walking with his Lady and two Daughters in the outward
+Court, impatiently expecting their Coming. The Boot of the Coach (for
+that was the Fashion in those Days) was presently let down, and Sir
+_Lucius_ led his Lady forwards to them; who coming within three or four
+Paces of the good old Knight, his Lady fell on her Knees, and begg'd
+their Pardon and Blessing. Her affectionate Father answer'd 'em with
+Tears from his Eyes; but the good ancient Lady was so overcome with Joy,
+that she fell into a Swoon, and had like to have been accompany'd by her
+Daughter, who fell upon her Knees by her, and with her Shrieks recall'd
+her, when she strait cry'd out, My Daughter, my Daughter's come again!
+my _Arabella_ alive! Ay, my dear offended Mother! with all the Duty and
+Penitence that Humanity is capable of, return'd the Lady _Lovewell_. Her
+Sisters then express'd their Love in Tears, Embraces, and Kisses, while
+her dear Husband begg'd a Blessing of her Parents, who were very
+pleasantly surpriz'd, to know that their Daughter was so happily
+marry'd, and to a Gentleman of such an Estate and Quality as Sir
+_Lucius_ seem'd to be: 'Twas late that Night e'er they went to Bed at
+Sir _Francis's_. The next Day, after they had all pretty well eas'd
+themselves of their Passions, Sir _Francis_ told his Son-in-Law, that as
+he had three Daughters, so he had 3000_l._ a Year, and he would divide
+it equally among 'em; but for Joy of the Recovery of his eldest
+Daughter, and her fortunate Match with so worthy a Gentleman as Sir
+_Lucius_, who had given him an Account of his Estate and Quality, he
+promis'd him ten thousand Pounds in ready Money besides; whereas the
+other young Ladies were to have but five thousand a Piece, besides their
+Dividend of the Estate. And now, (said�he) Daughter, the Cause of your
+Retreat from us, old Sir _Robert Richland_, has been dead these three
+Months, on such a Day. How, Sir, (cry'd she) on such a Day! that was the
+very Day on which I was so happy as to be marry'd to my dear Sir
+_Lucius_.
+
+She then gave her Father, and Mother, and Sisters, a Relation of all
+that had happen'd to her since her Absence from her dear Parents, who
+were extremely pleas'd with the Account of Sir _Christian_ and his
+Lady's Hospitality and Kindness to her; and in less than a Fortnight
+after, they took a Journey to Sir _Lucius's_, carrying the two other
+young Ladies along with 'em; and, by the Way, they call'd at Sir
+_Christian's_, where they arriv'd Time enough to be present the next Day
+at Sir _Christian's_ Daughter's Wedding, which they kept there for a
+whole Fortnight.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Wandering Beauty.
+
+
+p. 451 _two Pinners_. A pinner is 'a coif with two long flaps one on
+each side pinned on and hanging down, and sometimes fastened at the
+breast .�.�. sometimes applied to the flaps as an adjunct of the
+coif.'--_N.E.D._ cf. Pepys, 18 April, 1664: 'To Hyde Park .�.�. and my
+Lady Castlemaine in a coach by herself, in yellow satin and a
+pinner�on.'
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE UNHAPPY MISTAKE; OR, THE IMPIOUS VOW PUNISH'D.
+
+
+The Effects of Jealousy have ever been most fatal; and it is certainly
+one of the most tormenting Passions that an human Soul can be capable
+of, tho' it be created by the least Appearances of Reason: The Truth of
+which this following Story will evince.
+
+Sir _Henry Hardyman_ was a Gentleman of a very large Estate in
+_Somersetshire_, of a very generous Temper, hospitable almost to
+_Extravagancy_; a _plain down-right Dealer, wonderfully good-natur'd_,
+but very _passionate_: Whose Lady dying, left him only a Son and a
+Daughter; between whom there were about six Years Difference in their
+Age. _Miles Hardyman_ (for so the Son was call'd) being the eldest; both
+of naturally virtuous Inclinations, which were carefully improv'd by a
+generous and pious Education. _Miles_ was a very tall, large, and
+well-proportion'd Person at Two and Twenty; brave and active, and seem'd
+to be born for War, tho' he had a Heart as tender and capable of
+receiving the Impressions of Love as any of our Sex. He had been bred
+for some Years at the University; where, among other Things, he learn'd
+to fence; in which, however, he was mightily improv'd in a Twelvemonth's
+Time that he stay'd here in Town. _Lucretia_, his Sister, was beautiful
+enough, her Father designing to give ten thousand Pounds with her on
+Marriage; but (which is above all) she was incomparably good-humour'd.
+
+At his Return to his Father in the Country, young _Hardyman_ found Madam
+_Diana Constance_, a most beautiful Lady, with his Sister, at that Time
+about 16 Years old; somewhat tall of her Age, of happy and virtuous
+Education, of an indifferent Fortune, not exceeding two thousand Pounds,
+which was no Way answerable to the Expectations he had after his
+Father's Death; but it was impossible he should not love her, she was so
+prodigiously charming both in her inward and outward Excellencies;
+especially since he had the Opportunity of conversing with her at his
+Father's for above a Month. 'Tis true, he had seen her before, but it
+was then five Years since. Love her he did then, and that most
+passionately; nor was she insensible or ungrateful. But our young Lovers
+had not Discretion enough to conceal the Symptoms of their Passion,
+which too visibly and frequently sally'd out at their Eyes before the
+old Gentleman; which made him prudently, as he thought, and timely
+enough, offer his Daughter _Lucretia_ the Liberty of taking a small
+Journey with _Diana_ to her House, which was not above 20 Miles thence,
+where that young Lady's Aunt govern'd in her Absence; for _Diana_ had no
+other Relation, so near as she was, living in _England_, her only
+Brother _Lewis_ having been in _Italy_ and _France_ ever since her
+Father dy'd, which was then near five Years past.
+
+_Lucretia_, over-joy'd at her Father's pretended Kindness, propos'd it
+to the young Lady, her Friend, who was very fond of the Proposal, hoping
+that _Lucretia's_ Brother might bear 'em Company there for some little
+Time; but old Sir _Henry_ had quite different Thoughts of the Matter.
+The third Day, from the first Discourse of it, was assign'd for their
+Departure. In the mean Time young _Hardyman_ knew not what to think of
+the Divorce he was going to suffer; for he began to have some
+Apprehensions that the old Knight was sensible, and displeas'd, that
+they lov'd each other: Not but that the Family of the _Constances_ was
+as ancient and honourable as that of _Hardymans_, and was once endow'd
+with as plentiful an Estate, tho' now young _Lewis Constance_ had not
+above 1200_l._ a Year. (O�the unkind Distance that Money makes, even
+between Friends!)
+
+Old 'Squire _Constance_ was a very worthy Gentleman, and Sir _Henry_ had
+a particular Friendship for him; but (perhaps) that dy'd with him, and
+only a neighbourly Kindness, or something more than an ordinary Respect,
+surviv'd to his Posterity. The Day came that was to carry 'em to the
+young Lady _Constance's_, and her Lover was preparing to attend 'em,
+when the old Gentleman ask'd him, What he meant by that Preparation? And
+whether he design'd to leave him alone? Or if he could think 'twere
+dutifully or decently done? To which the Son reply'd, That his Care of
+his Sister, and his Respect to a young Lady, in a Manner a Stranger to
+him, had misled his Thoughts from that Duty and Regard he ought to have
+pay'd to his Father, which he hop'd and begg'd he would pardon, tho' he
+design'd only just to have seen her safe there, and to have return'd at
+Night. With this the old Gentleman seem'd pacify'd for the present; and
+he bid him go take Leave of the Lady; which he did with a great deal of
+Concern, telling her, that he should be most miserable 'till he had the
+Happiness of seeing her again; however, he begg'd she would converse
+with him by Letters, which might (happily) a�little palliate his
+Misfortune in her Absence: Adding, that he would be eternally hers, and
+none but hers. To which she made as kind a Return as he could wish;
+letting him know, that she desired to live no longer than she was
+assur'd that she was belov'd by him. Then taking as solemn a Farewel of
+her as if he had never been to see her more, after he had given his
+Sister a parting Kiss or two, he led 'em down to his Father, who saw 'em
+mounted, and attended by two of his Servants. After which he walked with
+'em about a Mile from the House, where he and young _Hardyman_ left 'em
+to persue their Journey.
+
+In their Return to the House, said Sir _Henry_, I find, Son, I�have
+hitherto mistaken your Inclinations: I�thought they had altogether
+prompted you to great and manly Actions and Attempts; but, to my Sorrow,
+I�now find my Error. How, I�beseech you, Sir? (ask'd the Son.) You are
+guilty of a foolish lazy Passion, (reply'd the Father) you are in Love,
+_Miles_; in Love with one who can no Way advance your Fortune, Family,
+nor Fame. 'Tis true, she has Beauty, and o'my Conscience she is virtuous
+too; but will Beauty and Virtue, with a small Portion of 2000_l._ answer
+to the Estate of near 4000_l._ a Year, which you must inherit if you
+survive me? Beauty and Virtue, Sir, (return'd young _Hardyman_) with the
+Addition of good Humour and Education, is a Dowry that may merit a
+Crown. Notion! Stuff! All Stuff (cry'd the old Knight) Money is Beauty,
+Virtue, good Humour, Education, Reputation, and high Birth. Thank
+Heaven, Sir, (said _Miles_) you don't live as if you believ'd your own
+Doctrine; you part with your Money very freely in your House-keeping,
+and I am happy to see it. 'Tis that I value it for; (reply'd the Father)
+I�would therefore have thee, my Son, add to what in all Likelihood will
+be thine, so considerably, by Marriage, that thou mayst better deserve
+the Character of Hospitable _Hardyman_ than thy Father Sir
+_Henry_.--Come, _Miles_, (return'd�he) thou shalt think no more on her.
+I�can't avoid it, Sir, (said t'other.) Well, well, think of her you may,
+(said Sir _Henry_) but not as for a Wife; no, if you mean to continue in
+your Father's Love, be not in Love with Madam _Diana_, nor with any of
+her Nymphs, tho' never so fair or so chast--unless they have got Store
+of Money, Store of Money, _Miles_. Come, come in, we'll take a Game at
+_Chess_ before Dinner, if we can. I�obey you, Sir, (return'd the Son)
+but if I win, I�shall have the Liberty to love the Lady, I�hope. I�made
+no such Promise, (said the Knight) no, no Love without my Leave; but if
+you give me _Checque-Mate_, you shall have my Bay Gelding, and I would
+not take 50 Broad Pieces for him. I'll do my best, Sir, to deserve him,
+(said the young Gentleman.) 'Tis a mettl'd and fiery Beast (said Sir
+_Henry_.) They began their Game then, and had made about six Moves
+apiece before Dinner, which was serv'd up near four Hours after they
+sate down to play. It happen'd they had no Company din'd with 'em that
+Day; so they made a hasty Meal, and fell again to their former Dispute,
+which held 'em near six Hours longer; when, either the Knight's
+Inadvertency, or the young Gentleman's Skill and Application, gave him
+the Victory and Reward.
+
+The next Day they hunted; the Day following, the House was fill'd with
+Friends, and Strangers; who came with 'em; all which were certain of a
+hearty Welcome e'er they return'd. Other Days other Company came in, as
+Neighbours; and none of all that made their Visits, could be dismiss'd
+under three or four Days at soonest.
+
+Thus they past the Hours away for about six Weeks; in all which Time our
+Lover could get but one Opportunity of writing to his adorable, and that
+was by the Means of a Servant, who came with a Letter from his Sister
+_Lucretia_ to Sir _Henry_, and another to him, that held one inclos'd to
+him from the beautiful _Diana_; the Words, as perfectly as I can
+remember 'em, were these, or to this Effect:
+
+  _My +Hardyman+,_
+
+  _Too Dear!--No,--too much lov'd!--That's impossible too. How have I
+  enjoy'd my self with your Letters since my Absence from you! In the
+  first, how movingly you lament the unkind Distances of Time and
+  Place that thus divorces you from me! In another, in what tender
+  and prevailing Words your Passion is express'd! In a Third, what
+  invincible Arguments are urg'd to prove the Presence of your Soul to
+  me in the Absence of your Body! A�Fourth, how fill'd with just
+  Complaints of a rigorous Father! What Assurances does the Fifth
+  give me of your speedy Journey hither! And the Sixth, (for no less
+  methought I should have receiv'd from you) confirms what you last
+  said to me, +That you will ever be mine, and none but mine.
+  --O boundless Blessing!+ --These (my�Life) are the Dreams, which,
+  for six several Nights, have mock'd the real Passion�of_
+
+  _Your forgotten +Diana+._
+
+He read it, smil'd, and kiss'd it, and then proceeded to examine his
+Sisters, which held a great many Expressions of a tender Affection, and
+withal gave him Notice, that there was a mighty Spark lately come from
+Town into those Parts, that made his Court to the young Lady
+_Constance_; desiring him therefore to be as sudden in his Visit, if he
+intended any, as Possibility would permit. This startled and stung him:
+Wherefore, taking the Opportunity of his Father's Retirement, to write
+to the young Lady and his Sister; he dispatch'd a Letter to _Lucretia_,
+wherein he thank'd her for her Intelligence and Caution, and promis'd to
+be with her the next Night at farthest, if alive; and, at the same Time,
+writ to this Purpose to _Diana_:
+
+  Thou only Blessing for which I wish to live,
+
+  _How delightfully do you punish my seeming Neglect! I acknowledge I
+  have not sent to you 'till now, but it was because it was utterly
+  impossible, my Father continually keeping so strict a Guard over me
+  himself, that not even +Mercury+ could evade or illude his
+  Vigilance. Alas! my Soul, he is now no Stranger to my Passion for
+  you, which he pretends, at least, is highly offensive to him, for
+  what Reasons I blush to think. But what signifies an Offence to him
+  of so generous a Nature as my Love! I�am assured I was born for you,
+  or none other of your fair Sex, though attended with all the
+  Advantages of Birth and Fortune. I�will therefore proceed in this
+  Affair, as if we were already united by the outward Ceremonies of
+  the Church, and forsake him and all the World for you, my better
+  Part! Be certain, therefore, that to-Morrow Night, e'er you sleep,
+  you shall see (my�Life, my Soul, my All)_
+
+  Your most sincere, and
+  Most passionate Lover,
+  _Hardyman_.
+
+This, with the Letter to his Sister, he convey'd into the Servant's Hand
+that came from 'em, undiscover'd of his Father; who likewise dismiss'd
+the Messenger with his grave Epistle, full of musty Morals, to the two
+young gay Ladies. But he had an unlucky Thought, that he was overseen in
+giving his Son the Opportunity of retiring from him, whilst he was
+writing to his Daughter and t'other fair Creature, having a Jealousy
+that young _Hardyman_ might have made Use of that very Article of Time
+to the same End. This made him very uneasy and restless. On t'other
+Side, the young Gentleman though he was extreamly satisfy'd with those
+endearing Expressions of Love which he found in _Diana's_ Letter, yet he
+was all on Fire with the Apprehension of a Rival, and the Desire to see
+him, that he might dispute with him for the glorious Prize.
+
+The next Day, at Four in the Afternoon, they went to Bowls about a Mile
+off; where, after several Ends, the Knight and his Party lay all nearest
+about the Jack for the Game, 'till young _Hardyman_ put in a bold Cast,
+that beat all his Adversaries from the Block, and carry'd two of his
+Seconds close to it, his own Bowl lying partly upon it, which made them
+up. Ha! (cry'd a young Gentleman of his Side) bravely done, _Miles_,
+thou hast carry'd the Day, and kiss'd the Mistress. I�hope I shall
+before 'tis dark yet, (return'd�he.) Sir _Henry_ overhearing him, said,
+(his Face all glowing red with Passion) How dare you, Sir, express your
+self so freely in my Hearing? There, (persu'd he, and struck him a Blow
+on the Ear) I�first salute you thus: Do you know where you are, and who
+I am? Yes, you are my Father, Sir, (reply'd young _Hardyman_, bowing.)
+If you see her to Night, (said the passionate Father) resolve to see me
+no more. By Heaven, and all my Hopes, no more I will, after this Minute,
+(return'd the Son, being retreated some Distance from him, out of his
+Hearing.) So taking his Leave of the Company, with the usual Ceremony,
+he went directly Home, where immediately he order'd his Servant
+_Goodlad_ to saddle their Horses, whilst he himself went up to his
+Chamber, and took all the Rings and Jewels that his Mother had left him,
+and the Money that he had then in his Possession, which altogether
+amounted to near twelve hundred Pounds; and packing up some Linnen in
+his Portmanteau, he quickly mounted with his Servant, and made his Way
+towards the Lady _Constance's_.
+
+'Twas near seven a Clock e'er they got within Sight of his Mistress's,
+when our Lover perceiv'd a Gentleman and his Servant mounted at some
+Distance on t'other Side of the House, as coming from _London_: This
+unfortunately happen'd to be _Lewis Constance_, just return'd from his
+Travels, whom young _Hardyman_ had never seen before, and therefore
+could not know him at that Time: Observing therefore that they made to
+the same Place for which he was design'd, he halted a little, taking
+Covert under a large Elm-Tree, within a hundred Paces of the House,
+where he had the unlucky Opportunity to see his Mistress and Sister come
+out; whom _Lewis_ perceiving at the same Time, alighted, and ran eagerly
+to embrace her, who receiv'd him with Arms expanded, crying, O�my Dear,
+dearest Brother; but that last Word was stifled with Kisses. Do I once
+more hold thee in my Arms! O�come in, and let me give my Joys a Loose!
+I�am surpriz'd, and rave with extream Hapiness! O! thou art all to me
+that is valuable on Earth! (return'd�he.) At these Words she, in a
+Manner, hal'd him in. This Sight was certainly the greatest
+Mortification to her Lover that ever Man surviv'd! He presently and
+positively concluded it could be none but that Rival, of whom his Sister
+had given him Advice in her Letter. What to do he could by no Means
+determine; sometimes he was for going in, and affronting him before his
+Mistress; a�second Thought advis'd him to expect his coming out near
+that Place; upon another Consideration he was going to send him a
+Challenge, but by whom he knew not, for his Servant was as well known
+there as himself. At last he resolv'd to ride farther out of the Road,
+to see for some convenient Retreat that Night, where he might be
+undiscover'd: Such a Place he found about two Miles thence, at a good
+substantial Farmer's, who made him heartily welcome that Night, with the
+best Beer he had in his Cellar, so that he slept much better than he
+could have expected his Jealousy would have permitted: But the Morning
+renew'd and redoubled his Torture: But this jolly Landlord, hugely
+pleas'd with his good Company the Night past, visited him as he got out
+of his Bed, which was near two Hours after he wak'd; in which Time he
+had laid his Design how to proceed, in order to take Satisfaction of
+this Rival. He suffer'd himself, therefore, to be manag'd by the good
+Man of the House, who wou'd fain have made a Conquest of him; but he
+found that the young Gentleman could bear as much in his Head as he
+could on his Shoulders, which gave _Hardyman_ the Opportunity of keeping
+a Stowage yet for a good Dinner: After which they fell to bumping it
+about, 'till the Farmer fell asleep; when young _Hardyman_ retir'd into
+his Chamber, where, after a Turn or two, he writ as follows to his
+Mistress's Brother, whose Name he knew not; and therefore the Billet is
+not superscrib'd.
+
+  _SIR,_
+
+  _You have done me an unpardonable Injury; and if you are a
+  Gentleman, as you seem, you will give me Satisfaction within this
+  Hour at the Place whither this Messenger shall lead you. Bring
+  nothing with you but your Sword and your Servant, as I with mine,
+  to take Care of him that falls.--'Till I see you, I�am your
+  Servant,�&c._
+
+An Hour before Supper, his kind Host wak'd, and they eat heartily
+together that Night, but did not drink so plentifully as they had since
+their first Meeting; young _Hardyman_ telling him, that he was oblig'd
+to be mounted at the fore-mention'd Morning, in order to persue his
+Journey; and that, in the mean Time, he desir'd the Favour of him to let
+one of his Servants carry a Letter from him, to one that was then at the
+young Lady _Constance's_: To which t'other readily agreed. The young
+Gentleman then made him a Present of a Tobacco-Box, with the Head of
+King _Charles_ the First on the Lid, and his Arms on the Bottom in
+Silver; which was very acceptable to him, for he was a great Loyalist,
+tho' it was in the Height of _Oliver's Usurpation_. About four a-Clock
+in the Morning, as our jealous Lover had order'd him, one of the
+Servants came to him for the Letter; with which he receiv'd these
+Instructions, that he should deliver that Note into the Gentleman's own
+Hand, who came to the Lady _Constance's_ the Night before the last. That
+he should shew that Gentleman to the Field where young _Hardyman_,
+should deliver the Note to the Servant, which was just a Mile from
+either House; or that he should bring an Answer to the Note from that
+Gentleman. The Fellow was a good Scholar, tho' he could neither read nor
+write. For he learn'd his Lesson perfectly well, and repeated it
+punctually to _Lewis Constance_; who was strangely surpriz'd at what he
+found in the Billet. He ask'd the Messenger if he knew his Name that
+sent it; or if he were a Gentleman? Nay (Mass, quoth the Fellow)
+I�warrant he's a Gentleman; for he has given me nine good Shillings
+here, for coming but hither to you; but for his Name, you may e'en name
+it as well as I--He has got one to wait a top of him almost as fine as
+himself, zure. The surpriz'd Traveller jump'd out of his Bed, slipt on
+his Gown, and call'd up his Servant: Thence he went to his Sister's
+Chamber, with whom _Lucretia_ lay: They both happen'd to be awake, and
+talking, as he came to the Door, which his Sister permitted him to
+unlock, and ask'd him the Reason of his so early Rising? Who reply'd,
+That since he could not sleep, he would take the Air a little. But
+first, Sister (continu'd�he) I�will refresh my self at your Lips: And
+now, Madam, (added he to _Lucretia_) I would beg a Cordial from you. For
+that (said his Sister) you shall be oblig'd to me this once; saying so,
+she gently turn'd _Lucretia's_ Face towards him, and he had his Wish.
+Ten to one, but he had rather continu'd with _Lucretia_, than have gone
+to her Brother, had he known him; for he lov'd her truly and
+passionately: But being a Man of true Courage and Honour, he took his
+Leave of 'em, presently dress'd, and tripp'd away with the Messenger,
+who made more than ordinary Haste, because of his Success, which was
+rewarded with another piece of Money; and he danc'd Home to the Sound of
+the Money in his Pocket.
+
+No sooner was the Fellow out of Hearing, than _Lewis_, coming up to his
+Adversary, shew'd him the Billet, and said, Sent you this to me, Sir?
+I�did, Sir, reply'd _Hardyman_: I never saw you 'till now, return'd
+_Lewis_; how then could I injure you? 'Tis enough that I know it,
+answer'd _Miles_. But to satisfy you, you shall know that I am sensible
+that you pretend to a fair Lady, to whom I have an elder Title. In
+short, you entrench on my Prerogative. I�own no Subjection to you,
+(return'd _Constance_) and my Title is as good as your Prerogative,
+which I will maintain as I can hold this, (continu'd he, and drew his
+Sword) Hah! Nobly done! (cry'd _Hardyman_ drawing) I�could almost wish
+thou wert my Friend: You speak generously, return'd _Lewis_, I find I
+have to do with a Gentleman. Retire to a convenient Distance, said
+_Hardyman_ to _Goodlad_. If you come near while we are disputing, my
+Sword shall thank you for't; and you, Sir, retire! said _Constance_ to
+his Servant. And if you will keep your Life, keep your Distance! O�my
+brave Enemy! (cry'd _Miles_) Give me thy Hand! Here they shook Hands,
+and gave one another the Compliment of the Hat, and then (said
+_Hardyman_) Come on, Sir! I�am with you, Sir, (reply'd _Lewis_ standing
+on his Guard) they were both equally knowing in the Use of their Swords;
+so that they fought for some few Minutes without any Wound receiv'd on
+either Side. But, at last, _Miles_ being taller and much stronger than
+his Adversary, resolv'd to close with him; which he did, putting by a
+Pass that _Lewis_ made at him with his left Hand, and at the same Time
+he run him quite thro' the Body, threw him, and disarm'd him. Rise if
+thou can'st! (cry'd _Hardyman_) thou art really brave. I�will not put
+thee to the Shame of asking thy Life. Alas! I�cannot rise, (reply'd
+_Lewis_, endeavouring to get�up) so short a Life as mine were not worth
+the Breath of a Coward.--Make Haste! Fly hence! For thou are lost if
+thou stay'st. My Friends are many and great; they will murther thee by
+Law. Fly! Fly in Time! Heaven forgive us both! Amen! (Cry'd _Miles_) I
+hope thou may'st recover! 'Tis Pity so much Bravery and Honour should be
+lost so early. Farewel.--And now Adieu to the fair and faithless
+_Diana_! Ha! (Cry'd _Constance_) O bloody Mistake! But could speak no
+more for Loss of Blood. _Hardyman_ heard not those last Words, being
+spoken with a fainting Voice, but in Haste mounted, and rode with all
+Speed for _London_, attended by _Goodlad_; whilst _Constance's_ Servant
+came up to him, and having all along travell'd with him, had two or
+three Times the Occasion of making Use of that Skill in Surgery which he
+had learn'd Abroad in _France_ and _Italy_, which he now again practis'd
+on his Master, with such Success, that in less than half an Hour, he put
+his Master in a Capacity of leaning on him; and so walking Home with
+him, tho' very gently and slowly. By the Way, _Lewis_ charg'd his
+Servant not to say which Way _Hardyman_ took, unless he design'd to quit
+his Service for ever. But pardon me, Sir! (return'd t'other) your Wound
+is very dangerous, and I am not sure that it is not mortal: And if so,
+give me Leave to say, I�shall persue him over all _England_, for
+Vengeance of your Death. 'Twas a Mistake on both Sides, I�find; (said
+_Lewis_) therefore think not of Revenge: I�was as hot and as much to
+blame as he. They were near an Hour getting to the House, after his
+Blood was stopp'd. As he was led in, designing to be carry'd to his
+Chamber, and to take his Bed as sick of an Ague, his Sister and
+_Lucretia_ met him, and both swoon'd away at the Sight of him; but in a
+little Time they were recover'd, as if to torment him with their Tears,
+Sighs, and Lamentations. They ask'd him a thousand impertinent
+Questions, which he defer'd to answer, 'till he was laid in Bed; when he
+told his Sister, that the Gentleman who had thus treated him, bid her
+Adieu, by the Epithet of Fair and Faithless. For Heaven's Sake, (cry'd
+_Diana_) what Manner of Man was he? Very tall and well set, (reply'd her
+Brother) of an austere Aspect, but a well-favour'd Face, and
+prodigiously strong. Had he a Servant with him, Sir? (ask'd _Lucretia_)
+Yes, Madam (answer'd her Lover) and describ'd her Servant. Ah! my
+Prophetic Fears (cry'd she) It was my Brother, attended by _Goodlad_.
+Your Brother! Dearest and Fairest of your Sex, (said _Lewis_) Heaven
+send him safely out of _England_ then! Nay, be he who he may, I�wish the
+same; for he is truly brave. Alas, my dear, my cruel _Hardyman_! (cry'd
+_Diana_) Your _Hardyman_, Sister! (said _Lewis_) Ah! would he had been
+so! You might then have had Hopes of an affectionate Brother's Life;
+which yet I will endeavour to preserve, that by the Enjoyment of your
+dear and nearest Conversation, Madam, (persu'd he to _Lucretia_) I may
+be prepar'd to endure the only greater Joys of Heaven. But O! My Words
+prey on my Spirits. And all the World, like a huge Ship at Anchor, turn
+round with the ebbing Tide.--I can no more. At these Words both the
+Ladies shriek'd aloud, which made him sigh, and move his Hand as well as
+he could toward the Door; his Attendant perceiv'd it, and told 'em he
+sign'd to them to quit the Room; as indeed it was necessary they should,
+that he might repose a while if possible, at least that he might not be
+oblig'd to talk, nor look much about him. They obey'd the Necessity, but
+with some Reluctancy, and went into their own Chamber, where they
+sigh'd, wept, and lamented their Misfortunes for near two Hours
+together: When all on a suddain, the Aunt, who had her Share of Sorrow
+too in this ugly Business, came running up to 'em, to let 'em know that
+old Sir _Harry Hardyman_ was below, and came to carry his Daughter Madam
+_Lucretia_ Home with him. This both surpriz'd and troubled the young
+Ladies, who were yet more disturb'd, when the Aunt told them, that he
+enquir'd for his Son, and would not be convinc'd by any Argument
+whatever; no, nor Protestation in her Capacity, that young _Hardyman_
+was not in the House, nor that he had not been entertain'd there ever
+since he left his Father--But come, Cousin and Madam, (said she to the
+young Ladies) go down to him immediately, or I fear he'll come up to
+you. _Lucretia_ knew she must, and t'other would not be there alone: So
+down they came to the Old testy Gentleman. Your Servant, Lady, (said he
+to _Diana_) _Lucretia_ then kneel'd for his Blessing. Very well, very
+well, (cry'd he hastily) God bless you! Where's your Brother? Ha!
+Where's your Brother? I�know not, Sir, (she answer'd) I�have not seen
+him since I have been here. No, (said�he) not since you have been in
+this Parlour last, you mean. I�mean, Sir, (she return'd) upon my Hopes
+of yours and Heaven's Blessing, I�have not seen him since I saw you,
+Sir, within a Mile of our own House. Ha! _Lucretia_, Ha! (cry'd the old
+Infidel) have a Care you pull not mine and Heaven's Curse on your Head!
+Believe me, Sir, (said _Diana_) to my Knowledge, she has not. Why, Lady,
+(ask'd the passionate Knight) are you so curious and fond of him your
+self, that you will allow no Body else the Sight of him? Not so much as
+his own Sister? I�don't understand you, Sir, (she reply'd) for, by my
+Hopes of Heaven, I�have not seen him neither since that Day I left you.
+Hey! pass and repass, (cry'd the old suspicious Father) _presto_, be
+gone!--This is all Conjuration. 'Tis diabolical, dealing with the Devil!
+In Lies, I�mean, on one Side or other; for he told me to my Teeth, at
+least, he said in my Hearing, on the Bowling-Green, but two Nights
+since, that he hop'd to see your Ladyship (for I suppose you are his
+Mistress) that Night e're 'twas dark: Upon which I gave him only a kind
+and fatherly Memorandum of his Duty, and he immediately left the Company
+and me, who have not set Eye on him, nor heard one Syllable of him
+since.--Now, judge you, Lady, if I have not Reason to conclude that he
+has been and is above still! No, (said the Aunt) you have no Reason to
+conclude so, when they both have told you solemnly the contrary; and
+when I can add, that I will take a formal Oath, if requir'd, that he has
+not been in this House since my Cousin _Lewis_ went to travel, nor
+before, to the best of my Memory; and I am confident, neither my Cousin
+_Diana_, nor the Lady your Daughter, have seen him since they left him
+with you, Sir--I wish, indeed, my dear Cousin _Lewis_ had not seen him
+since. How! What's that you say, good Lady? (ask'd the Knight) Is Mr.
+_Lewis Constance_ then in _England_? And do you think that he has seen
+him so lately? for your Discourse seems to imply as much. Sir _Henry_,
+(reply'd the Aunt) you are very big with Questions, but I will endeavour
+to satisfy you in all of 'em.--My Cousin _Lewis Constance_ is in
+_England_; nay, more, he is now in his Chamber a-Bed, and dangerously,
+if not mortally, wounded, by 'Squire _Miles Hardyman_, your Son. Heaven
+forbid, (cry'd the Father) sure 'tis impossible. All Things are so to
+the Incredulous. Look you, Sir, (continu'd she, seeing _Lewis's_ Servant
+come�in) do you remember his _French_ Servant _Albert_, whom he took
+some Months before he left _England_?--There he is. Humh! (said the old
+Sceptic) I�think verily 'tis the same. Ay, Sir, (said the Servant) I�am
+the same, at your Service. How does your Master? (ask'd Sir _Henry_)
+Almost as bad as when the 'Squire your Son left him, (reply'd _Albert_)
+only I have stopp'd the Bleeding, and he is now dozing a little; to say
+the Truth, I�have only Hopes of his Life because I wish it. When was
+this done? (the Knight inquir'd) Not three Hours since, (return'd
+t'other.) What was the Occasion? (said Sir _Henry_) An ugly Mistake on
+both Sides; your Son, as I understand, not knowing my Master, took him
+for his Rival, and bad him quit his Pretensions to the fair Lady, for
+whom he had a Passion: My Master thought he meant the Lady _Lucretia_,
+your Daughter, Sir, with whom I find he is passionately in
+Love,--and--Very well--so--go on! (interrupted the Knight with a
+Sigh)--and was resolv'd to dispute his Title with him; which he did; but
+the 'Squire is as strong as the Horse he rides on!--And! 'tis a
+desperate Wound!--Which Way is he gone, canst thou tell? (ask'd the
+Father) Yes, I�can; but I must not, 'tis as much as my Place is worth.
+My Master would not have him taken for all the World; nay, I�must needs
+own he is a very brave Person. But you may let me know; (said the
+Father) you may be confident I will not expose him to the Law: Besides,
+if it please Heaven that your Master recovers, there will be no
+Necessity of a Prosecution.--Prithee let me know! You'll pardon me, Sir,
+(said _Lewis's_ trusty Servant) my Master, perhaps, may give you that
+Satisfaction; and I'll give you Notice, Sir--when you may conveniently
+discourse him.--Your humble Servant, Sir, (he�added, bowing, and went
+out.) The old Gentleman was strangely mortify'd at this News of his Son;
+and his Absence perplex'd him more than any thing besides in the
+Relation. He walk'd wildly up and down the Room, sighing, foaming, and
+rolling his Eyes in a dreadful Manner; and at the Noise of any Horse on
+the Road, out he would start as nimbly as if he were as youthful as his
+Son, whom he sought in vain among those Passengers. Then returning, he
+cry'd out to her, O�_Lucretia_! Your Brother! Where's your Brother?--O
+my Son! the Delight, Comfort, and Pride of my Old Age! Why dost thou fly
+me? Then answering as for young _Hardyman_, (said�he) you struck me
+publickly before much Company, in the Face of my Companions.--Come,
+(reply'd he for himself) 'Twas Passion, _Miles_, 'twas Passion; Youth is
+guilty of many Errors, and shall not Age be allow'd their Infirmities?
+_Miles_, thou know'st I love thee.--Love thee above Riches or long
+Life.--O! Come to my Arms, dear Fugitive, and make Haste to preserve
+his, who gave thee thy Life!--Thus he went raving about the Room, whilst
+the sorrowful, compassionate Ladies express'd their Grief in Tears.
+After this loving Fit was over with him, he would start out in a
+contrary Madness, and threaten his Son with the greatest and the
+heaviest Punishment he could imagine; insomuch, that the young Ladies,
+who had Thoughts before of perswading _Lewis_ to inform Sir _Harry_
+which Way his Son rode, were now afraid of proposing any such Thing to
+him. Dinner was at last serv'd in, to which _Diana_ with much Difficulty
+prevail'd with him to sit. Indeed, neither he, nor any there present,
+had any great Appetite to eat; their Grief had more than satiated 'em.
+About five a-Clock, _Albert_ signify'd to the Knight, that he might then
+most conveniently speak with his Master; but he begg'd that he would not
+disturb him beyond half a Quarter of an Hour: He went up therefore to
+him, follow'd by the young Lady and the Aunt: _Lewis_ was the first that
+spoke, who, putting his Hand a little out of the Bed, said with a Sigh,
+Sir _Henry_, I hope you will pity a great Misfortune, and endeavour to
+pardon me, who was the greatest Occasion of it; which has doubly
+punish'd me in these Wounds, and in the Loss of that Gentleman's
+Conversation, whose only Friendship I would have courted. Heaven pardon
+you both the Injuries done to one another; (return'd the Knight)
+I�grieve to see you thus, and the more, when I remember my self that
+'twas done by my Son's unlucky Hand. Would he were here.--So would not I
+(said _Lewis_) 'till I am assur'd my Wound is not mortal, which I have
+some Reasons to believe it is not. Let me beg one Favour of you, Sir,
+(said Sir _Henry_) I beseech you do not deny me. It must be a very
+difficult Matter that you, Sir, shall not command of me, (reply'd
+_Constance_.) It can't be difficult to you to tell me, or to command
+your Servant to let me know what Road my Son took. He may be at
+_Bristol_ long e're this, (return'd _Lewis_.) That was the Road they
+took (added the Servant.) I�thank you, my worthy, my kind Friend! (said
+the afflicted Father) I�will study to deserve this Kindness of you. How
+do you find your self now? that I may send him an Account by my Servant,
+if he is to be found in that City? Pretty hearty, (return'd _Lewis_) if
+the Wounds your adorable Daughter here has given me, do not prove more
+fatal than my Friend's your Son's. She blush'd, and he persu'd, My
+Servant has sent for the best Physician and Surgeon in all these Parts;
+I�expect them every Minute, and then I shall be rightly inform'd in the
+State of my Body. I�will defer my Messenger 'till then (said Sir
+_Henry_.) I will leave that to your Discretion, Sir, (return'd
+_Constance_.) As they were discoursing of 'em, in came the learned Sons
+of Art: The Surgeon prob'd his Wound afresh, which he found very large,
+but not mortal, his Loss of Blood being the most dangerous of all his
+Circumstances. The Country-_�sculapius_ approv'd of his first Intention,
+and of his Application; so dressing it once himself, he left the Cure of
+Health to the Physician, who prescrib'd some particular Remedy against
+Fevers, and a Cordial or two; took his Fee without any Scruples, as the
+Surgeon had done before, and then took both their Leaves. Sir _Henry_
+was as joyful as _Lewis's_ Sister, or as his own Daughter _Lucretia_,
+who lov'd him perfectly, to hear the Wound was not mortal; and
+immediately dispatch'd a Man and Horse to _Bristol_, in Search of his
+Son: The Messenger return'd in a short Time with this Account only, that
+such a kind of a Gentleman and his Servant took Shipping the Day before,
+as 'twas suppos'd, for _London_. This put the old Gentleman into a
+perfect Frenzy. He ask'd the Fellow, Why the Devil he did not give his
+Son the Letter he sent to him? Why he did not tell him, that his poor
+old forsaken Father would receive him with all the Tenderness of an
+indulgent Parent? And why he did not assure his Son, from him, that on
+his Return, he should be bless'd with the Lady _Diana_? And a thousand
+other extravagant Questions, which no body could reply to any better
+than the Messenger, who told him, trembling; First, That he could not
+deliver the Letter to his Son, because he could not find him: And
+Secondly and Lastly, being an Answer in full to all his Demands, That he
+could not, nor durst tell the young Gentleman any of those kind Things,
+since he had no Order to do so; nor could he enter into his Worship's
+Heart, to know his Thoughts: Which Return, tho' it was reasonable
+enough, and might have been satisfactory to any other Man in better
+Circumstances of Mind; so enrag'd Sir _Henry_, that he had certainly
+kill'd the poor Slave, had not the Fellow sav'd his Life by jumping down
+almost half the Stairs, and continuing his Flight, Sir _Henry_ still
+persuing him, 'till he came to the Stables, where finding the Door open,
+Sir _Henry_ ran in and saddl'd his Horse his own self, without staying
+for any Attendant, or so much as taking his Leave of the Wounded
+Gentleman, or Ladies, or giving Orders to his Daughter when she should
+follow him Home, whither he was posting alone; but the Servant who came
+out with him, accidentally seeing him as he rode out at the farthest
+Gate, so timely persu'd him, that he overtook him about a Mile and half
+off the House. Home they got then in less than three Hours Time, without
+one Word or Syllable all the Way on either Side, unless now and then a
+hearty Sigh or Groan from the afflicted Father, whose Passion was so
+violent, and had so disorder'd him, that he was constrain'd immediately
+to go to Bed, where he was seiz'd with a dangerous Fever, which was
+attended with a strange _Delirium_, or rather with an absolute Madness,
+of which the Lady _Lucretia_ had Advice that same Night, tho' very late.
+This News so surpriz'd and afflicted her, as well for the Danger of her
+Lover as of her Father, that it threw her into a Swoon; out of which,
+when, with some Difficulty she was recover'd, with great Perplexity and
+Anguish of Mind she took a sad Farewel of the Lady _Diana_, but durst
+not be seen by her Brother on such an Occasion, as of taking Leave, lest
+it should retard his Recovery: To her Father's then she was convey'd
+with all convenient Expedition: The old Gentleman was so assiduously and
+lawfully attended by his fair affectionate Daughter, that in less than
+ten Days Time his Fever was much abated, and his _Delirium_ had quite
+left him, and he knew every Body about him perfectly; only the Thoughts
+of his Son, by Fits, would choak and discompose him: However, he was
+very sensible of his Daughter's Piety in her Care of him, which was no
+little Comfort to him: Nor, indeed, could he be otherwise than sensible
+of it by her Looks, which were then pale and thin, by over-watching;
+which occasion'd her Sickness, as it caus'd her Father's Health: For no
+sooner could Sir _Henry_ walk about the Room, than she was forc'd to
+keep her Bed; being afflicted with the same Distemper from which her
+Father was yet but hardly freed: Her Fever was high, but the _Delirium_
+was not so great: In which, yet, she should often discover her Passion
+for _Lewis Constance_, her wounded Lover; lamenting the great Danger his
+Life had been in, as if she had not receiv'd daily Letters of his
+Amendment. Then again, she would complain of her Brother's Absence, but
+more frequently of her Lover's; which her Father hearing, sent to invite
+him to come to her, with his Sister, as soon as young _Constance_ was
+able to undertake the Journey; which he did the very next Day; and he
+and _Diana_ gave the languishing Lady a Visit in her Chamber, just in
+the happy Time of an Interval, which, 'tis suppos'd, was the sole Cause
+of her Recovery; for the Sight of her Lover and Friend was better than
+the richest Cordial in her Distemper. In a very short Time she left her
+Bed, when Sir _Henry_, to give her perfect Health, himself join'd the
+two Lovers Hands; and not many Weeks after, when her Beauty and Strength
+return'd in their wonted Vigour, he gave her 10000_l._ and his Blessing,
+which was a double Portion, on their Wedding-Day, which he celebrated
+with all the Cost and Mirth that his Estate and Sorrow would permit:
+Sorrow for the Loss of his Son, I�mean, which still hung upon him, and
+still hover'd and croak'd over and about him, as Ravens, and other Birds
+of Prey, about Camps and dying People. His Melancholy, in few Months,
+increas'd to that Degree, that all Company and Conversation was odious
+to him, but that of Bats, Owls, Night-Ravens, _&c._ Nay, even his
+Daughter, his dear and only Child, as he imagin'd, was industriously
+avoided by him. In short, it got so intire a Mastery of him, that he
+would not nor did receive any Sustenance for many Days together; and at
+last it confin'd him to his Bed; where he lay wilfully speechless for
+two Days and Nights; his Son-in-Law, or his own Daughter, still
+attending a-Nights by Turns; when on the third Night, his _Lucretia_
+sitting close by him in Tears, he fetch'd a deep Sigh, which ended in a
+pitious Groan, and call'd faintly, _Lucretia! Lucretia!_ The Lady being
+then almost as melancholy as her Father, did not hear him 'till the
+third Call; when falling on her Knees, and embracing his Hand, which he
+held out to her, she return'd with Tears then gushing out, Yes, Sir, it
+is I, your _Lucretia_, your dutiful, obedient, and affectionate
+_Lucretia_, and most sorrowfully-afflicted Daughter. Bless her, Heaven!
+(said the Father) I'm going now, (continu'd he weakly) O�_Miles_! yet
+come and take thy last Farewel of thy dear Father! Art thou for ever
+gone from me? Wilt thou not come and take thy dying Father's Blessing?
+Then I will send it after thee. Bless him! O�Heaven! Bless him! Sweet
+Heaven bless my Son! My _Miles_! Here he began to faulter in his Speech,
+when the Lady gave a great Shriek, which wak'd and alarm'd her Husband,
+who ran down to 'em in his Night-Gown, and, kneeling by the Bed-side
+with his Lady, begg'd their departing Father's Blessing on them. The
+Shriek had (it�seems) recall'd the dying Gentleman's fleeting Spirits,
+who moving his Hand as well as he could, with Eyes lifted up, as it
+were, whisper'd, Heaven bless you both! Bless me! Bless my--O _Miles_!
+Then dy'd. His Death (no�Doubt) was attended with the Sighs, Tears, and
+unfeign'd Lamentations of the Lady and her Husband; for, bating his
+sudden Passion, he was certainly as good a Father, Friend, and
+Neighbour, as _England_ could boast. His Funeral was celebrated then
+with all the Ceremonies due to his Quality and Estate: And the young
+happy Couple felt their dying Parent's Blessing in their mutual Love and
+uninterrupted Tranquillity: Whilst (alas) it yet far'd otherwise with
+their Brother; of whose Fortune it is fit I should now give you an
+Account.
+
+From _Bristol_ he arriv'd to _London_ with his Servant _Goodlad_; to
+whom he propos'd, either that he should return to Sir _Henry_, or share
+in his Fortunes Abroad: The faithful Servant told him, he would rather
+be unhappy in his Service, than quit it for a large Estate. To which his
+kind Master return'd, (embracing him) No more my Servant now, but my
+Friend! No more _Goodlad_, but _Truelove_! And I am--_Lostall_! 'Tis a
+very proper Name, suitable to my wretched Circumstances. So after some
+farther Discourse on their Design, they sold their Horses, took
+Shipping, and went for _Germany_, where then was the Seat of War.
+
+_Miles's_ Person and Address soon recommended him to the chief Officers
+in the Army; and his Friend _Truelove_ was very well accepted with 'em.
+They both then mounted in the same Regiment and Company, as Volunteers;
+and in the first Battel behav'd themselves like brave _English_-men;
+especially _Miles_, whom now we must call Mr. _Lostall_, who signaliz'd
+himself that Day so much, that his Captain and Lieutenant being kill'd,
+he succeeded to the former in the Command of the Company, and _Truelove_
+was made his Lieutenant. The next Field-Fight _Truelove_ was kill'd, and
+_Lostall_ much wounded, after he had sufficiently reveng'd his Friend's
+Death by the Slaughter of many of the Enemies. Here it was that his
+Bravery was so particular, that he was courted by the Lieutenant-General
+to accept of the Command of a Troop of Horse; which gave him fresh and
+continu'd Occasions of manifesting his Courage and Conduct. All this
+while he liv'd too generously for his Pay; so that in the three or four
+Years Time, the War ceasing, he was oblig'd to make use of what Jewels
+and Money he had left of his own, for his Pay was quite spent. But at
+last his whole Fund being exhausted to about fifty or threescore Pounds,
+he began to have Thoughts of returning to his native Country, _England_;
+which in a few Weeks he did, and appear'd at the _Tower_ to some of his
+Majesty's (King _Charles_ the Second's) Officers, in a very plain and
+coarse, but clean and decent Habit: To one of these Officers he
+address'd himself, and desir'd to mount his Guards under his Command,
+and in his Company; who very readily receiv'd him into Pay. (The Royal
+Family had not then been restor'd much above a Twelve-Month.) In this
+Post, his Behaviour was such, that he was generally belov'd both by the
+Officers and private Soldiers, most punctually and exactly doing his
+Duty; and when he was off the Guard, he would employ himself in any
+laborious Way whatsoever to get a little Money. And it happen'd, that
+one Afternoon, as he was helping to clean the _Tower_ Ditch, (for he
+refus'd not to do the meanest Office, in Hopes to expiate his Crime by
+such voluntary Penances) a�Gentleman, very richly dress'd, coming that
+Way, saw him at Work; and taking particular Notice of him, thought he
+should know that Face of his, though some of the Lines had been struck
+out by a Scar or two: And regarding him more earnestly, he was at last
+fully confirm'd, that he was the Man he thought him; which made him say
+to the Soldier, Prithee, Friend, What art thou doing there? The unhappy
+Gentleman return'd, in his Country Dialect, Why, Master, Cham helping to
+clear the _Tower_ Ditch, zure, an't please you. 'Tis very hot, (said
+t'other) Art thou not a dry? Could'st thou not drink? Ay, Master,
+reply'd the Soldier, with all my Heart. Well, (said the Gentleman) I'll
+give thee a Flaggon or two; Where is the best Drink? At yonder House,
+Master, (answer'd the Soldier) where you see yon Soldier at the Door,
+there be the best Drink and the best Measure, zure: Chil woit a top o
+your Worship az Zoon as you be got thare. I'll take thy Word, said
+t'other, and went directly to the Place; where he had hardly sate down,
+and call'd for some Drink, e'er the Soldier came in, to whom the
+Gentleman gave one Pot, and drank to him out of another. _Lostall_, that
+was the Soldier, whipp'd off his Flaggon, and said, bowing, Well,
+Master, God bless your Worship! Ich can but love and thank you, and was
+going; but the Gentleman, who had farther Business with him, with some
+Difficulty prevail'd on him to sit down, for a Minute or two, after the
+Soldier had urg'd that he must mind his Business, for he had yet half a
+Day's Work almost to complete, and he would not wrong any Body of a
+Quarter of an Hour's Labour for all the World. Th'art a very honest
+Fellow, I�believe, said his Friend; but prithee what does thy whole
+Day's Work come to? Eighteen-pence, reply'd _Lostall_: Look, there 'tis
+for thee, said the Gentleman. Ay; but an't like your Worship, who must
+make an End of my Day's Business? (the Soldier ask'd.) Get any Body else
+to do it for thee, and I'll pay him. Can'st prevail with one of thy
+Fellow-Soldiers to be so kind? Yes, Master, thank God, cham not so ill
+belov'd nother. Here's honest _Frank_ will do so much vor me, Zure: Wilt
+not, _Frank_? (withal my Heart, _Tom_, reply'd his Comrade.) Here,
+Friend, (said _Lostall's_ new Acquaintance) here's Eighteen-pence for
+thee too. I�thank your Honour, return'd the Soldier, but should have but
+Nine-pence. No Matter what thou should'st have, I'll give thee no less,
+said the strange Gentleman. Heavens bless your Honour! (cry'd the
+Soldier) and after he had swigg'd off a Pot of good Drink, took
+_Lostall's_ Pick-ax and Spade, and went about his Business. Now (said
+the Stranger) let us go and take a Glass of Wine, if there be any that
+is good hereabouts, for I fancy thou'rt a mighty honest Fellow; and I
+like thy Company mainly. Cham very much bound to behold you, Master,
+(return'd _Lostall_) and chave a Fancy that you be and a
+_West_-Country-Man, zure; (added�he) you do a take zo like en; vor
+_Mainly_ be our Country Word, zure. We'll talk more of that by and by,
+said t'other: Mean while I'll discharge the House, and walk whither thou
+wilt lead me. That shan't be var, zure; (return'd _Lostall_) vor the
+_Gun_ upon the Hill there, has the best Report for Wine and Zeck Ale
+hereabouts. There they arriv'd then in a little Time, got a Room to
+themselves, and had better Wine than the Gentleman expected. After a
+Glass or two a-piece, his unknown Friend ask'd _Lostall_ what
+Country-Man he was? To whom the Soldier reply'd, That he was a
+_Zomerzetshire_ Man, zure. Did'st thou never hear then of one Sir _Henry
+Hardyman_? (the Stranger ask'd.) Hier of'n! (cry'd t'other) yes, zure;
+chave a zeen 'en often. Ah! Zure my Mother and I have had many a
+zwindging Pitcher of good Drink, and many a good Piece of Meat at his
+House. Humh! (cry'd the Gentleman) It seems your Mother and you knew
+him, then? Ay, zure, mainly well; ich mean, by zight, mainly well, by
+zight. They had a great deal of farther Discourse, which lasted near two
+Hours; in which Time the Gentleman had the Opportunity to be fully
+assur'd, that this was _Miles Hardyman_, for whom he took him at first.
+At that first Conference, _Miles_ told him his Name was honest _Tom
+Lostall_; and that he had been a Souldier about five Years; having first
+obtain'd the Dignity of a Serjeant, and afterward had the Honour to be a
+Trooper, which was the greatest Post of Honour that he could boast of.
+At last, his new Friend ask'd _Miles_, if he should see him there at
+Three in the Afternoon the next Day? _Miles_ return'd, That he should be
+at his Post upon Duty then; and that without Leave from his Lieutenant,
+who then would command the Guards at the _Tower_, he could not stir a
+Foot with him. His Friend return'd, That he would endeavour to get Leave
+for him for an Hour or two: After which they drank off their Wine; the
+Gentleman pay'd the Reckoning, and gave _Miles_ a Broad piece to drink
+more Wine 'till he came, if he pleas'd, and then parted 'till the next
+Day. When his Friend was gone, _Miles_ had the Opportunity of reflecting
+on that Day's Adventure. He thought he had seen the Gentleman's Face,
+and heard his Voice, but where, and upon what Occasion, he could not
+imagine; but he was in Hopes, that on a second Interview, he might
+recollect himself where it was he had seen him. 'Twas exactly Three
+a-Clock the next Afternoon, when his Friend came in his own
+Mourning-Coach, accompany'd by another, who look'd like a Gentleman,
+though he wore no Sword. His Friend was attended by two of his own
+Foot-men in black Liveries. _Miles_ was at his Post, when his Friend
+ask'd where the Officer of the Guard was? The Soldier reply'd, That he
+was at the _Gun_. The Gentleman went directly to the Lieutenant, and
+desir'd the Liberty of an Hour or two for _Miles_, then _Tom Lostall_,
+to take a Glass of Wine with him: The Lieutenant return'd, That he might
+keep him a Week or two, if he pleas'd, and he would excuse him; for
+(added�he) there is not a more obedient nor better Soldier than _Tom_
+was in the whole Regiment; and that he believ'd he was as brave as
+obedient. The Gentleman reply'd, That he was very happy to hear so good
+a Character of him; and having obtain'd Leave for his Friend, made his
+Compliment, and return'd, to take _Miles_ along with him: When he came
+to the trusty Centinel, he commanded the Boot to be let down, and
+desir'd _Miles_ to come into the Coach, telling him, That the Officer
+had given him Leave. Ah! Sir, (return'd _Miles_) altho' he has,
+I�cannot, nor will quit my Post, 'till I am reliev'd by a Corporal; on
+which, without any more Words, the Gentleman once more went to the
+Lieutenant, and told him what the Soldier's Answer was. The Officer
+smil'd, and reply'd, That he had forgot to send a Corporal with him,
+e'er he was got out o' Sight, and begg'd the Gentleman's Pardon that he
+had given him a second Trouble. Then immediately calling for a Corporal,
+he dispatch'd him with the Gentleman to relieve _Miles_, who then, with
+some little Difficulty, was prevail'd on to step into the Coach, which
+carry'd 'em into some Tavern or other in _Leadenhall-street_; where,
+after a Bottle or two, his Friend told _Miles_, that the Gentleman who
+came with him in the Coach, had some Business with him in another Room.
+_Miles_ was surpriz'd at that, and look'd earnestly on his Friend's
+Companion; and seeing he had no Sword, pull'd off his own, and walk'd
+with him into the next Room; where he ask'd the Stranger, What Business
+he had with him? To which the other reply'd, That he must take Measure
+of him. How! (cry'd _Miles_) take Measure of me? That need not be; for I
+can tell how tall I am. I�am (continu'd�he) six Foot and two Inches
+high. I�believe as much (said t'other.) But, Sir, I�am a Taylor, and
+must take Measure of you to make a Suit of Cloaths or two for you; or
+half a Dozen, if you please. Pray, good Mr. Taylor (said _Miles_) don't
+mock me; for tho' cham a poor Fellow, yet cham no Vool zure. I�don't,
+indeed, Sir, reply'd t'other. Why, who shall pay for 'em? Your Friend,
+the Gentleman in the next Room: I'll take his Word for a thousand
+Pounds, and more; and he has already promis'd to be my Pay-Master for as
+many Suits as you shall bespeak, and of what Price you please. Ah! mary,
+(cry'd _Miles_) he is a Right Worshipful Gentleman; and ich caunt but
+love 'n�and thank 'n. The Taylor then took Measure of him, and they
+return'd to the Gentleman; who, after a Bottle or two a-piece, ask'd
+_Miles_ when he should mount the Guard next? _Miles_ told him four Days
+thence, and he should be posted in the same Place, and that his Captain
+would then command the Guard, who was a very noble Captain, and a good
+Officer. His Friend, who then had no farther Business with _Miles_ at
+that Time, once more parted with him, 'till Three a-Clock the next
+Saturday; when he return'd, and ask'd if the Captain were at the _Gun_,
+or no? _Miles_ assur'd him he was. His Friend then went down directly to
+the Tavern, where he found the Captain, the Lieutenant, and Ensign; upon
+his Address the Captain most readily gave his Consent that _Miles_ might
+stay with him a Month, if he would; and added many Things in Praise of
+his trusty and dutiful Soldier. The Gentleman then farther entreated,
+that he might have the Liberty to give him and the other Officers a
+Supper that Night; and that they would permit their poor Soldier, _Tom
+Lostall_, the Honour to eat with 'em there. To the first, the Captain
+and the rest seem'd something averse; but to the last they all readily
+agreed; and at length the Gentleman's Importunity prevail'd on 'em to
+accept his Kindness, he urging that it was in Acknowledgment of all
+those Favours they had plac'd on his Friend _Tom_. With his pleasing
+Success he came to _Miles_, not forgetting then to take a Corporal with
+him. At this second Invitation into the Coach, _Miles_ did not use much
+Ceremony, but stepp'd in, and would have sate over against the
+Gentleman, by the Gentleman-Taylor; but his Friend oblig'd him to sit on
+the same Seat with him. They came then again to their old Tavern in
+_Leadenhall-street_, and were shew'd into a large Room; where they had
+not been above six Minutes, e'er the Gentleman's Servants, and another,
+who belong'd to Monsieur Taylor, brought two or three large Bags; out of
+one they took Shirts, half Shirts, Bands, and Stockings; out of another,
+a�Mourning-Suit; out of a third, a�Mourning Cloak, Hat, and a large
+Hatband, with black Cloth-Shoes; and one of the Gentleman's Servants
+laid down a Mourning Sword and Belt on the Table: _Miles_ was amaz'd at
+the Sight of all these Things, and kept his Eyes fix'd on 'em, 'till his
+Friend cry'd, Come, _Tom_! Put on your Linnen first! Here! (continu'd he
+to his Servant) Bid 'em light some Faggots here! For, tho' 'tis Summer,
+the Linnen may want Airing, and there may be some ugly cold Vapours
+about the Room, which a good Fire will draw away. _Miles_ was still in a
+Maze! But the Fire being well kindled, the Gentleman himself took a
+Shirt, and air'd it; commanding one of his Servants to help _Tom_ to
+undress. _Miles_ was strangely out o' Countenance at this, and told his
+Friend, that he was of Age and Ability to pull off his own Cloaths; that
+he never us'd to have any _Valets de Chambre_; (as�they call'd 'em) and
+for his Part, he was asham'd, and sorry that so worshipful a Gentleman
+should take the Trouble to warm a Shirt for him. Besides (added�he)
+chave Heat enough (zure) to warm my Shirt. In short, he put on his
+Shirt, half Shirt, his Cloaths and all Appurtenances, as modishly as the
+best _Valet de Chambre_ in _Paris_ could. When _Miles_ was dress'd, his
+Friend told him, That he believ'd he look'd then more like himself than
+ever he had done since his Return to _England_. Ah! Noble Sir! said
+_Miles_. _Vine Feathers make vine Birds._ But pray, Sir, Why must I wear
+Mourning? Because there is a particular Friend of mine dead, for whose
+Loss I can never sufficiently mourn my self; and therefore I desire that
+all whom I love should mourn with me for him, return'd the Gentleman;
+not but that there are three other Suits in Hand for you at this Time.
+_Miles_ began then to suspect something of his Father's Death, which had
+like to have made him betray his Grief at his Eyes; which his Friend
+perceiving, took him by the Hand, and said, Here, my dear Friend! To the
+Memory of my departed Friend! You are so very like what he was,
+considering your Difference in Years, that I can't choose but love you
+next to my Wife and my own Sister. Ah! Sir! (said he, and lapping his
+Handkerchief to his Eyes) How can I deserve this of you? I�have told you
+(reply'd t'other.) But--Come! Take your Glass, and about with it! He did
+so; and they were indifferently pleasant, the Subject of Discourse being
+chang'd, 'till about a quarter after Five; when the Gentleman call'd to
+pay, and took Coach with _Miles_ only, for the _Gun-Tavern_; where he
+order'd a very noble Supper to be got ready with all Expedition; mean
+while they entertain'd one another, in a Room as distant from the
+Officers as the House would permit: _Miles_ relating to his new Friend
+all his Misfortunes Abroad, but still disguising the true Occasion of
+his leaving _England_. Something more than an Hour after, one of the
+Drawers came to let 'em know, that Supper was just going to be serv'd
+up. They went then directly to the Officers, whom they found all
+together, with two or three Gentlemen more of their Acquaintance: They
+all saluted the Gentleman who had invited 'em first, and then
+complimented _Miles_, whom they mistook for another Friend of the
+Gentleman's that gave 'em the Invitation; not in the least imagining
+that it was _Tom Lostall_. When they were all sat, the Captain ask'd,
+Where is our trusty and well-beloved Friend Mr. _Thomas Lostall_? Most
+honoured Captain! (reply'd _Miles_) I am here, most humbly at your
+Honour's Service, and all my other noble Officers. Ha! _Tom_! (cry'd the
+Lieutenant) I�thought indeed when thou first cam'st in, that I should
+have seen that hardy Face of thine before. Face, Hands, Body, and Heart
+and all, are at your, all your Honours Service, as long as I live. We
+doubt it not, dear _Tom_! (return'd his Officers, unanimously.) Come,
+noble Gentlemen! (interrupted _Miles's_ Friend) Supper is here, let us
+fall to: I�doubt not that after Supper I shall surprise you farther.
+They then fell to eating heartily; and after the Table was clear'd they
+drank merrily: At last, after the King's, Queen's, Duke's, and all the
+Royal Family's, and the Officers Healths, his Friend begg'd that he
+might begin a Health to _Tom Lostall_; which was carry'd about very
+heartily; every one had a good Word for him, one commending his Bravery,
+another, his ready Obedience; and a third, his Knowledge in material
+Discipline, _&c._ 'till at length it grew late, their Stomachs grew
+heavy, and their Heads light; when the Gentleman, _Miles's_ Friend,
+calling for a Bill, he found it amounted to seven Pounds ten Shillings,
+odd Pence, which he whisper'd _Tom Lostall_ to pay; who was in a Manner
+Thunder-struck at so strange a Sound; but, recollecting himself, he
+return'd, That if his Friend pleas'd, he would leave his Cloak, and any
+Thing else, 'till the House were farther satisfy'd: T'other said, He was
+sure _Miles_ had Money enough about him to discharge two such Bills: To
+which _Miles_ reply'd, That if he had any Money about him, 'twas none of
+his own, and that 'twas certainly conjur'd into his Pockets. No Matter
+how it came there (said t'other;) but you have above twenty Pounds about
+you of your own Money: Pray feel. _Miles_ then felt, and pull'd out as
+much Silver as he could grasp, and laid it down on the Table. Hang this
+white Pelf; (cry'd his Friend) pay it in Gold, like your self, Come,
+apply your Hand to another Pocket: He did so, and brought out as many
+Broad-Pieces as Hand could hold. Now (continu'd his Friend) give the
+Waiter eight of 'em, and let him take the Overplus for his Attendance.
+_Miles_ readily obey'd, and they were _Very Welcome, Gentlemen_.
+
+Now, honoured Captain, (said his Friend) and you, Gentlemen, his other
+worthy Officers, be pleas'd to receive your Soldier, as Sir _Miles
+Hardyman_, Bar., Son to the late Sir _Henry Hardyman_ of
+_Somersetshire_, my dear and honoured Brother-in-Law: Who is
+certainly--the most unhappy Wretch crawling on Earth! (interrupted
+_Miles_) O just Heaven! (persu'd�he) How have I been rack'd in my Soul
+ever since the Impious Vow I made, that I never would see my dearest
+Father more! This is neither a Time nor Place to vent your Sorrows, my
+dearest Brother! (said his Friend, tenderly embracing him.) I�have
+something now more material than your Expressions of Grief can be here,
+since your honoured Father has been dead these five Years almost:--Which
+is to let you know, that you are now Master of four thousand Pounds a
+Year; and if you will forgive me two Years Revenue, I�will refund the
+rest, and put you into immediate and quiet Possession; which I promise
+before all this worthy and honourable Company. To which _Miles_
+return'd, That he did not deserve to inherit one Foot of his Father's
+Lands, tho' they were entail'd on him, since he had been so strangely
+undutiful; and that he rather thought his Friend ought to enjoy it all
+in Right of his Sister, who never offended his Father in the whole
+Course of her Life:--But, I�beseech you, Sir, (continu'd he to his
+Friend) how long is it since I have been so happy in so good and
+generous a Brother-in-Law? Some Months before Sir _Henry_ our Father
+dy'd, who gave us his latest Blessing, except that which his last Breath
+bequeath'd and sigh'd after you. O�undutiful and ungrateful Villain that
+I am, to so kind, and so indulgent, and so merciful a Father: (cry'd
+_Miles_) But Heaven, I�fear, has farther Punishments in Store for so
+profligate a Wretch and so disobedient a Son.--But your Name, Sir, if
+you please? (persu'd he to his Brother) I�am _Lewis Constance_, whom
+once you unhappily mistook for your Rival. Unhappily, indeed: (return'd
+_Miles_) I thought I had seen you before. Ay, Sir, (return'd
+_Constance_) but you could never think to have seen me again, when you
+wounded and left me for dead, within a Mile of my House. O! thou art
+brave, (cry'd his Brother, embracing him affectionately) 'tis too much
+Happiness, for such a Reprobate to find so true a Friend and so just a
+Brother. This, this does in some Measure compensate for the Loss of so
+dear a Father.--Take, take all, my Brother! (persu'd he, kissing
+_Lewis's_ Cheek) Take all thou hast receiv'd of what is call'd mine, and
+share my whole Estate with me: But pardon me, I�beseech you my most
+honour'd Officers, and all you Gentlemen here present, (continu'd he to
+the whole Company, who sate silent and gazing at one another, on the
+Occasion of so unusual an Adventure) pardon the Effects of Grief and Joy
+in a distracted Creature! O, Sir _Miles_, (cry'd his Captain) we grieve
+for your Misfortune, and rejoice at your Happiness in so noble a Friend
+and so just a Brother. _Miles_ then went on, and gave the Company a full
+but short Account of the Occasion of all his Troubles, and of all his
+Accidents he met with both Abroad and at Home, to the first Day that
+_Constance_ saw him digging in the _Tower_-Ditch. About one that
+Morning, which preceded that Afternoon (persu'd�he) whereon I saw my
+dear Brother here, then a Stranger to me, I�dream'd I saw my Father at a
+Distance, and heard him calling to me to quit my honourable Employment
+in his Majesty's Service: This (my�Thought) he repeated seven or nine
+Times, I�know not which; but I was so disturb'd at it, that I began to
+wake, and with my Eyes but half open was preparing to rise; when I
+fancy'd I felt a cold Hand take me by the Hand, and force me on my hard
+Bolster again, with these Words, take thy Rest, _Miles_! This I confess
+did somewhat surprize me; but I concluded, 'twas the Effect of my
+Melancholy, which, indeed, has held me ever since I last left _England_:
+I therefore resolutely started up, and jump'd out of Bed, designing to
+leave you, and sit up with my Fellow-Soldiers on the Guard; but just
+then I heard the Watchman cry, _Past one a Clock and a Star-light
+Morning_; when, considering that I was to be at Work in the Ditch by
+four a Clock, I�went to Bed again, and slumber'd, doz'd, and dream'd,
+'til Four; ever when I turn'd me, still hearing, as I foolishly
+imagin'd, my Father crying to me, _Miles_! Sleep, my _Miles_! Go not to
+that nasty Place, nor do such servile Offices! tho' thou dost, I'll have
+thee out this Day, nay, I�will pull thee out: And then I foolishly
+imagin'd, that the same cold Hand pull'd me out of the Ditch; and being
+in less than a Minute's Time perfectly awake, I�found my self on my Feet
+in the Middle of the Room; I�soon put on my Cloaths then, and went to my
+Labour. Were you thus disturb'd when you were Abroad? (the Captain
+ask'd) O�worse, Sir, (answer'd _Miles_) especially on a Tuesday Night,
+a�little after One, being the Twelth of _November_, New Style, I�was
+wak'd by a Voice, which (methought) cry'd, _Miles_, _Miles_, _Miles!_
+Get hence, go Home, go to _England_! I was startled at it, but regarded
+it only as proceeding from my going to Sleep with a full Stomach, and so
+endeavour'd to sleep again, which I did, till a second Time it rouz'd
+me, with _Miles_ twice repeated,--hazard not thy Life here in a foreign
+Service! Home! to _England_! to _England_! to _England_! This disturb'd
+me much more than at first; but, after I had lay'n awake near half an
+Hour, and heard nothing of it all that Time, I�assur'd my self 'twas
+nothing but a Dream, and so once more address'd my self to Sleep, which
+I enjoy'd without Interruption for above two Hours; when I was the third
+Time alarm'd, and that with a louder Voice, which cry'd, as twice
+before, _Miles!_ _Miles!_ _Miles!_ _Miles!_ Go Home! Go to _England_!
+Hazard not thy Soul here! At which I started up, and with a faultering
+Speech, and Eyes half sear'd together, I�cry'd, In the Name of Heaven,
+who calls? Thy Father, _Miles_: Go Home! Go Home! Go Home! (it�said.)
+O�then I knew, I�mean, I�thought I knew it was my Father's Voice; and
+turning to the Bed-Side, from whence the Sound proceeded, I�saw, these
+Eyes then open, these very Eyes, at least, my Soul saw my Father, my own
+dear Father, lifting up his joined Hands, as if he begg'd me to return
+to _England_. I saw him beg it of me.--O Heaven! The Father begs it of
+the Son! O�obstinate, rebellious, cruel, unnatural, barbarous, inhuman
+Son! Why did not I go Home then! Why did I not from that Moment begin my
+Journey to _England_? But I hope, e'er long, I�shall begin a better.
+Here his o'ercharg'd Heart found some little Relief at his Eyes, and
+they confess'd his Mother: But he soon resum'd the Man, and then
+_Constance_ said, Did you ne'er dream of your Sister, Sir? Yes, often,
+Brother, (return'd _Miles_) but then most particularly, before e'er I
+heard the first Call of the Voice; when (my�Thought) I�saw her in Tears
+by my Bed Side, kneeling with a Gentleman, whom I thought I had once
+seen; but knew him not then, tho', now I recal my Dream, the Face was
+exactly yours. 'Twas I, indeed, Sir, (return'd _Lewis_) who bore her
+Company, with Tears, at your Father's Bed-Side; and at twelve a Clock at
+Night your Father dy'd. But come, Sir, (persu'd�he) 'tis now near twelve
+a Clock, and there is Company waits for you at Home, at my House here in
+Town; I�humbly beg the Captain's Leave, that I may rob 'em of so dutiful
+a Soldier for a Week or two. Sir, (return'd the Captain) Sir _Miles_
+knows how to command himself, and may command us when he pleases.
+Captain, Lieutenant, and Ensign, (reply'd Sir _Miles_) I am, and ever
+will continue, during Life, your most dutiful Soldier, and your most
+obedient and humble Servant. Thus they parted.
+
+As soon as _Constance_ was got within Doors, his Lady and Sir _Miles's_
+Sister, who both did expect him that Night, came running into the Hall
+to welcome him? his Sister embrac'd and kiss'd him twenty and twenty
+Times again, dropping Tears of Joy and Grief, whilst his Mistress stood
+a little Distance, weeping sincerely for Joy to see her Love return'd:
+But long he did not suffer her in that Posture; for, breaking from his
+Sister's tender Embraces, with a seasonable Compliment he ran to his
+Mistress, and kneeling, kiss'd her Hand, when she was going to kneel to
+him; which he perceiving, started up and took her in his Arms, and
+there, it may be presum'd, they kiss'd and talk'd prettily; 'till her
+Brother perswaded 'em to retire into the Parlour, where he propos'd to
+'em that they should marry on the very next morning; and accordingly
+they were, after _Lewis_ had deliver'd all Sir _Henry's_ Estate to Sir
+_Miles_, and given him Bills on his Banker for the Payment of ten
+thousand Pounds, being the Moiety of Sir _Miles's_ Revenue for five
+Years. Before they went to Church, Sir _Miles_, who then had on a rich
+bridal Suit, borrow'd his Brother's best Coach, and both he and _Lewis_
+went and fetch'd the Captain, Lieutenant, and Ensign, to be Witnesses of
+their Marriage. The Captain gave the Bride, and afterwards they feasted
+and laugh'd heartily, 'till Twelve at Night, when the Bride was put to
+Bed; and there was not a Officer of 'em all, who would not have been
+glad to have gone to Bed to her; but Sir _Miles_ better supply'd their
+Places.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unhappy Mistake.
+
+
+p. 477 _the Jack_. The small bowl placed as a mark for the players to
+aim at. cf. _Cymbeline_ II, i: 'Was there ever man had such luck! when I
+kissed the jack upon an up-cast to be hit away!'
+
+p. 477 _the Block_. cf. Florio (1598). '_Buttino_, a maister or mistres
+of boules or coites whereat the plaiers cast or playe; some call it the
+blocke.'
+
+p. 495 _vor Mainly be our Country Word, zure_. Wright, _English Dialect
+Dictionary_, gives apposite quotations for 'mainly' from Gloucester,
+Wilts and Devon. He also has two quotations, Somerset and West Somerset
+for 'main' used adverbially. But 'mainly' is also quite common in that
+county.
+
+p. 495 _the Gun_. A well-known house of call. 2 June, 1668, Pepys
+'stopped and drank at the Gun'.
+
+p. 496 _a Broad piece_. This very common name was 'applied after the
+introduction of the guinea in 1663 to the "Unite" or 20 shilling pieces
+(Jacobus and Carolus) of the preceeding reigns, which were much broader
+and thinner than the new milled coinage.'
+
+
+
+
+  _Printed by A. H. BULLEN, at the Shakespeare Head Press,
+  Stratford-upon-Avon._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Errors and Inconsistencies (noted by transcriber)
+
+Typographical errors were corrected only when unambiguous ("Symrna"),
+or when the expected spelling occurs many times in the book. A few
+variable forms such as "handsom : handsome" are unchanged.
+
+Unless otherwise noted, quotation marks are as printed.
+
+
+_The Adventure of the Black Lady_
+
+  and order'd the Coach to drive  [orderd]
+  [Notes]
+  [_See King of Bantam, below_]
+
+_The Court of the King of Bantam_
+
+  Appearances of Virtue, which he thought  [be thought]
+  So she has (reply'd the titular Monarch):  [_close ) missing_]
+  Come, Madam (continued he, kissing _Lucy_,)  [_close ) missing_]
+  has oblig'd me beyond Imitation.'  [_close quote missing_]
+  And, (_S_) _Sim. Slyboots_.  [_no . after "S"_]
+  [Notes:
+  _The header for the "King of Bantam" notes is misprinted, placed
+  between the two notes for p. 30 instead of between pgs. 9 and 17.
+  The story begins on p. 11._]
+
+_The Unfortunate Happy Lady_
+
+  he designs to gain your Ladyship's Assistance  [Ladship's]
+  After she had taken her Money, and other Things of Value  [Money,and]
+  the good old Gentleman returns Home  [Gentlemen]
+  since she was assur'd, that if he marry'd her  [asssur'd]
+  he was arrested, and thrown into a Goal  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  The defeated Lovers knew not how to resent it?  [_? in original_]
+  My Cousin _Eugenia_! (cry'd _Gracelove_!)  [_! in original_]
+
+_The Fair Jilt_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  no such person as her 'Prince Tarpuin of the race of the last Kings
+  of Rome'
+    [_obvious error uncorrected because it may be in the quoted
+    original_]
+  [Dedication]
+  at least with a feign'd Civility  [lest]
+  a sort of Coin, not currant in this Age  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  in all the finest Manners of Education  [_f in "of" obscure_]
+  'She complains, in her Heart  [_open quote missing_]
+  had not been sufficient of itself  [_f in "of" obscure_]
+  from whose Mouth I had it.'  [_close quote missing_]
+  Which so extremely incensed _Alcidiana_, that she  [the]
+  putting her self into the Hands of a wealthy Merchant  [wealty]
+  the other End of which was to be fastned to the Gibbet
+    [_spelling unchanged: elsewhere "fasten'd"_]
+  holy Matters relating to the Life to come  [to to come]
+  All his overjoy'd Friends  [_elsewhere "over-joy'd" with hyphen_]
+  [Note to p. 174]
+  Barbadoes  [Barbardoes]
+
+_Oroonoko; Or The Royal Slave_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  as Aphara tells her prose-epic  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  there is not to be seen an indecent Action  [it not]
+  still answer'd what they thought conduc'd best  [they they]
+  instead of giving me the comtemptible Whip  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  let him speedly dispatch me  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Notes]
+  [_The header for the "Oroonoko" notes is missing._]
+
+_Agnes De Castro_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  an aimable blue-stocking  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  if she had not perceived a Paper lying under his Hand  [see]
+  the charming Qualities of your Person  [Qualites]
+  unless expresly commanded by the Princess  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  I�fear you will never approve my Passion.'  [_close quote missing_]
+  Thus this Conversation ended.  [Coversation]
+  'You will do for _Constantia_  [_open quote missing_]
+  will render your Memory illustrious  [yonr]
+
+_The History Of The Nun_
+
+  _Isabella de Valerie_, that rose like a new Star  [the rose]
+  he found nothing of his Industry thrive  [hs found]
+  foreseeing there was no Provision likely to be made them
+    [was a / no _at line break_]
+
+_The Nun; Or, The Perjur'd Beauty_
+
+  with out whom she had been at a Loss  [_elsewhere "without"_]
+  when she fell passionately in Love with him  [passsionately]
+
+_The Lucky Mistake_
+
+  I�find the Seeds of great and profound Matter  [finds]
+  and wondred how his Stars came so kind
+    [_spelling unchanged: elsewhere "wonder'd"_]
+  she assur'd him her Father had never yet  [asur'd]
+  [Note to p. 351]
+  (... 3�Vols., 1736, 12mo)  [3�Vols, 1736]
+
+_The Unfortunate Bride_
+
+  So aimable he was  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  for 'twas that very Fondness proved his Ruin  [twas]
+
+_The Dumb Virgin_
+
+  a handsom Gentleman in a rich _English_ Dress  [Gentlemen]
+  his Voyage from _Smyrna_ to _London_  [_Symrna_]
+
+_The Unhappy Mistake_
+
+  and virtuous Education, of an indifferent Fortune  [_. for ,_]
+  which was rewarded with another piece of Money  [which which]
+  came running into the Hall to welcome him?  [_? in original_]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Works of Aphra Behn
+       Volume V
+
+Author: Aphra Behn
+
+Editor: Montague Summers
+
+Release Date: August 30, 2009 [EBook #29854]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF APHRA BEHN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Louise Hope, Wendy Bertsch and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class = "mynote">
+<p>This text uses UTF-8 (unicode) file encoding. If the apostrophes and
+quotation marks in this paragraph appear as garbage, make sure your
+browser’s “character set” or “file encoding” is set to Unicode
+(UTF-8). You may also need to change the default font.</p>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<a href = "#contents">Contents</a> (as printed)<br>
+<a href = "#endnotes">Transcriber’s Notes</a><br>
+<a href = "#detail">Full Contents</a></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class = "mid">
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h3>THE WORKS</h3>
+
+<h6>OF</h6>
+
+<h1>APHRA BEHN</h1>
+
+<h6 class = "smallcaps">Edited by</h6>
+
+<h5>MONTAGUE SUMMERS</h5>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h5>VOL. V</h5>
+
+<h5 class = "smallcaps">
+The Black Lady &mdash; The King of Bantam<br>
+The Unfortunate Happy Lady &mdash; The Fair Jilt<br>
+Oroonoko &mdash; Agnes de Castro<br>
+The History of the Nun &mdash; The Nun<br>
+The Lucky Mistake &mdash; The Unfortunate Bride<br>
+The Dumb Virgin &mdash; The Wandering Beauty<br>
+The Unhappy Mistake</h5>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class = "illustration">
+<img src = "images/publogo.gif" width = "91" height = "92"
+alt = "publisher’s device: W H and windmill">
+</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h5><span class = "extended">LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN</span><br>
+STRATFORD-ON-AVON: &nbsp; A.&nbsp; H.&nbsp; BULLEN<br>
+MCMXV</h5>
+
+<hr class = "mid">
+
+<h4><a name = "contents" id = "contents">CONTENTS.</a></h4>
+
+
+<table class = "toc" summary = "table of contents">
+<tr>
+<td></td>
+<td class = "number smallroman">PAGE</td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLACK LADY</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#black_lady">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE COURT OF THE KING OF BANTAM</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#king_bantam">11</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE UNFORTUNATE HAPPY LADY: A TRUE HISTORY</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#happy_lady">35</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE FAIR JILT</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#fair_jilt">67</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>OROONOKO; OR, THE ROYAL SLAVE</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#oroonoko">125</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>AGNES DE CASTRO</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#agnes_castro">209</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; OR, THE FAIR VOW-BREAKER</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#history_nun">257</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE NUN; OR, THE PERJUR’D BEAUTY</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#nun_perjurd">325</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE LUCKY MISTAKE</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#lucky">349</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE; OR, THE BLIND LADY A BEAUTY</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#unfortunate">399</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE DUMB VIRGIN; OR, THE FORCE OF IMAGINATION</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#dumb_virgin">415</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE WANDERING BEAUTY</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#wandering">445</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>THE UNHAPPY MISTAKE; OR, THE IMPIOUS VOW PUNISH’D</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#unhappy">469</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>APPENDIX</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#appendix">507</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><p>NOTES</p></td>
+<td class = "number"><a href = "#notes">513</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class = "maintext">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">1</span>
+<a name = "black_lady" id = "black_lady">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE ADVENTURE<br>
+OF THE BLACK LADY.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">3</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "black_lady_main" id = "black_lady_main">
+THE ADVENTURE</a><br>
+OF THE <i>BLACK LADY</i>.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">About</span> the Beginning of last
+<i>June</i> (as near as I can remember) <i>Bellamora</i> came to Town
+from <i>Hampshire</i>, and was obliged to lodge the first Night at the
+same Inn where the Stage-Coach set up. The next Day she took Coach for
+<i>Covent-Garden</i>, where she thought to find Madam <i>Brightly</i>,
+a&nbsp;Relation of hers, with whom she design’d to continue for about
+half a Year undiscover’d, if possible, by her Friends in the Country:
+and order’d therefore her Trunk, with her Clothes, and most of her Money
+and Jewels, to be brought after her to Madame <i>Brightly’s</i> by a
+strange Porter, whom she spoke to in the Street as she was taking Coach;
+being utterly unacquainted with the neat Practices of this fine City.
+When she came to <a class = "comm" name = "black_lady_commtag1" id =
+"black_lady_commtag1" href =
+"#black_lady_comm1"><i>Bridges-Street</i></a>, where indeed her Cousin
+had lodged near three or four Years since, she was strangely surprized
+that she could not learn anything of her; no, nor so much as meet with
+anyone that had ever heard of her Cousin’s Name: Till, at last,
+describing Madam <i>Brightly</i> to one of the House-keepers in that
+Place, he told her, that there was such a kind of Lady, whom he had
+sometimes seen there about a Year and a half ago; but that he believed
+she was married and remov’d towards <i>Soho</i>. In this Perplexity she
+quite forgot her Trunk and Money, <i>&amp;c</i>, and wander’d in her
+Hackney-Coach all over St. <i>Anne’s</i> Parish; inquiring for Madam
+<i>Brightly</i>, still describing her Person, but in vain; for no Soul
+could give her any Tale or Tidings of such a Lady. After she had thus
+fruitlessly rambled, till she, the Coachman, and the very Horses were
+even tired,
+<span class = "pagenum">4</span>
+by good Fortune for her, she happen’d on a private House, where lived a
+good, discreet, ancient Gentlewoman, who was fallen to Decay, and forc’d
+to let Lodgings for the best Part of her Livelihood: From whom she
+understood, that there was such a kind of Lady, who had lain there
+somewhat more than a Twelvemonth, being near three Months after she was
+married; but that she was now gone abroad with the Gentleman her
+Husband, either to the Play, or to take the fresh Air; and she believ’d
+would not return till Night. This Discourse of the Good Gentlewoman’s so
+elevated <i>Bellamora’s</i> drooping Spirits, that after she had beg’d
+the liberty of staying there till they came home, she discharg’d the
+Coachman in all haste, still forgetting her Trunk, and the more valuable
+Furniture of&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>When they were alone, <i>Bellamora</i> desired she might be permitted
+the Freedom to send for a Pint of Sack; which, with some little
+Difficulty, was at last allow’d her. They began then to chat for a
+matter of half an Hour of things indifferent: and at length the ancient
+Gentlewoman ask’d the fair Innocent (I&nbsp;must not say foolish) one,
+of what Country, and what her Name was: to both which she answer’d
+directly and truly, tho’ it might have prov’d not discreetly. She then
+enquir’d of <i>Bellamora</i> if her Parents were living, and the
+Occasion of her coming to Town. The fair unthinking Creature reply’d,
+that her Father and Mother were both dead; and that she had escap’d from
+her Uncle, under the pretence of making a Visit to a young Lady, her
+Cousin, who was lately married, and liv’d above twenty Miles from her
+Uncle’s, in the Road to <i>London</i>, and that the Cause of her
+quitting the Country, was to avoid the hated Importunities of a
+Gentleman, whose pretended Love to her she fear’d had been her eternal
+Ruin. At which she wept and sigh’d most extravagantly. The discreet
+Gentlewoman endeavour’d to comfort her by all the softest and most
+powerful Arguments in her Capacity; promising her all the friendly
+Assistance that she could
+<span class = "pagenum">5</span>
+expect from her, during <i>Bellamora’s</i> stay in Town: which she did
+with so much Earnestness, and visible Integrity, that the pretty
+innocent Creature was going to make her a full and real Discovery of her
+imaginary insupportable Misfortunes; and (doubtless) had done it, had
+she not been prevented by the Return of the Lady, whom she hop’d to have
+found her Cousin <i>Brightly</i>. The Gentleman, her Husband just saw
+her within Doors, and <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘orderd’">order’d</ins> the Coach to drive to some of his
+Bottle-Companions; which gave the Women the better Opportunity of
+entertaining one another, which happen’d to be with some Surprize on all
+Sides. As the Lady was going up into her Apartment, the Gentlewoman of
+the House told her there was a young Lady in the Parlour, who came out
+of the Country that very Day on purpose to visit her: The Lady stept
+immediately to see who it was, and <i>Bellamora</i> approaching to
+receive her hop’d-for Cousin, stop’d on the sudden just as she came to
+her; and sigh’d out aloud, Ah, Madam! I&nbsp;am lost&mdash;It is not
+your Ladyship I seek. No, Madam (return’d the other) I&nbsp;am apt to
+think you did not intend me this Honour. But you are as welcome to me,
+as you could be to the dearest of your Acquaintance: Have you forgot me,
+Madame <i>Bellamora</i>? (continued she.) That Name startled the other:
+However, it was with a kind of Joy. Alas! Madam, (replied the young one)
+I&nbsp;now remember that I have been so happy to have seen you; but
+where and when, my Memory can’t tell me. ’Tis indeed some Years since,
+(return’d the Lady) But of that another time.&mdash;Mean while, if you
+are unprovided of a Lodging, I&nbsp;dare undertake, you shall be welcome
+to this Gentlewoman. The Unfortunate returned her Thanks; and whilst a
+Chamber was preparing for her, the Lady entertain’d her in her own.
+About Ten o’Clock they parted, <i>Bellamora</i> being conducted to her
+Lodging by the Mistress of the House, who then left her to take what
+Rest she could amidst her so many Misfortunes; returning to the
+<span class = "pagenum">6</span>
+other Lady, who desir’d her to search into the Cause of
+<i>Bellamora’s</i> Retreat to Town.</p>
+
+<p>The next Morning the good Gentlewoman of the House coming up to her,
+found <i>Bellamora</i> almost drown’d in Tears, which by many kind and
+sweet Words she at last stopp’d; and asking whence so great Signs of
+Sorrow should proceed, vow’d a most profound Secrecy if she would
+discover to her their Occasion; which, after some little Reluctancy, she
+did, in this manner.</p>
+
+<p>I was courted (said she) above three Years ago, when my Mother was
+yet living, by one Mr. <i>Fondlove</i>, a&nbsp;Gentleman of good Estate,
+and true Worth; and one who, I&nbsp;dare believe, did then really love
+me: He continu’d his Passion for me, with all the earnest and honest
+Sollicitations imaginable, till some Months before my Mother’s Death;
+who, at that time, was most desirous to see me disposed of in Marriage
+to another Gentleman, of much better Estate than Mr. <i>Fondlove</i>;
+but one whose Person and Humour did by no means hit with my
+Inclinations: And this gave <i>Fondlove</i> the unhappy Advantage over
+me. For, finding me one Day all alone in my Chamber, and lying on my
+Bed, in as mournful and wretched a Condition to my then foolish
+Apprehension, as now I am, he urged his Passion with such Violence, and
+accursed Success for me, with reiterated Promises of Marriage,
+whensoever I pleas’d to challenge ’em, which he bound with the most
+sacred Oaths, and most dreadful Execrations: that partly with my
+Aversion to the other, and partly with my Inclinations to pity him,
+I&nbsp;ruin’d my self.&mdash;Here she relaps’d into a greater
+Extravagance of Grief than before; which was so extreme that it did not
+continue long. When therefore she was pretty well come to herself, the
+antient Gentlewoman ask’d her, why she imagin’d herself ruin’d: To which
+she answer’d, I&nbsp;am great with Child by him, Madam, and wonder you
+did not perceive it last Night. Alas! I&nbsp;have not a Month
+<span class = "pagenum">7</span>
+to go: I&nbsp;am asham’d, ruin’d, and damn’d, I&nbsp;fear, for ever
+lost. Oh! fie, Madam, think not so, (said the other) for the Gentleman
+may yet prove true, and marry you. Ay, Madam (replied <i>Bellamora</i>)
+I doubt not that he would marry me; for soon after my Mother’s Death,
+when I came to be at my own Disposal, which happen’d about two Months
+after, he offer’d, nay most earnestly sollicited me to it, which still
+he perseveres to do. This is strange! (return’d the other) and it
+appears to me to be your own Fault, that you are yet miserable. Why did
+you not, or why will you not consent to your own Happiness? Alas! (cry’d
+<i>Bellamora</i>) ’tis the only Thing I dread in this World: For,
+I&nbsp;am certain, he can never love me after. Besides, ever since I
+have abhorr’d the Sight of him: and this is the only Cause that obliges
+me to forsake my Uncle, and all my Friends and Relations in the Country,
+hoping in this populous and publick Place to be most private,
+especially, Madam, in your House, and in your Fidelity and Discretion.
+Of the last you may assure yourself, Madam, (said the other:) but what
+Provision have you made for the Reception of the young Stranger that you
+carry about you? Ah, Madam! (cryd <i>Bellamora</i>) you have brought to
+my Mind another Misfortune: Then she acquainted her with the suppos’d
+loss of her Money and Jewels, telling her withall, that she had but
+three Guineas and some Silver left, and the Rings she wore, in her
+present possession. The good Gentlewoman of the House told her, she
+would send to enquire at the Inn where she lay the first Night she came
+to Town; for, haply, they might give some Account of the Porter to whom
+she had entrusted her Trunk; and withal repeated her Promise of all the
+Help in her Power, and for that time left her much more compos’d than
+she found her. The good Gentlewoman went directly to the other Lady, her
+Lodger, to whom she recounted <i>Bellamora’s</i> mournful Confession; at
+which the Lady
+<span class = "pagenum">8</span>
+appear’d mightily concern’d: and at last she told her Landlady, that she
+would take Care that <i>Bellamora</i> should lie in according to her
+Quality: For, added she, the Child, it seems, is my own Brother’s.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she had din’d, she went to the <i>Exchange</i>, and bought
+Child-bed Linen; but desired that <i>Bellamora</i> might not have the
+least Notice of it: And at her return dispatch’d a Letter to her Brother
+<i>Fondlove</i> in <i>Hampshire</i>, with an Account of every
+Particular; which soon brought him up to Town, without satisfying any of
+his or her Friends with the Reason of his sudden Departure. Mean while,
+the good Gentlewoman of the House had sent to the <a class = "comm" name
+= "black_lady_commtag2" id = "black_lady_commtag2" href =
+"#black_lady_comm2"><i>Star Inn</i> on <i>Fish-street-Hill</i></a>, to
+demand the Trunk, which she rightly suppos’d to have been carried back
+thither: For by good Luck, it was a Fellow that ply’d thereabouts, who
+brought it to <i>Bellamora’s</i> Lodgings that very Night, but unknown
+to her. <i>Fondlove</i> no sooner got to <i>London</i>, but he posts to
+his Sister’s Lodgings, where he was advis’d not to be seen of
+<i>Bellamora</i> till they had work’d farther upon her, which the
+Landlady began in this manner; she told her that her Things were
+miscarried, and she fear’d, lost; that she had but a little Money her
+self, and if the Overseers of the Poor (justly so call’d from their
+over-looking ’em) should have the least Suspicion of a strange and
+unmarried Person, who was entertain’d in her House big with Child, and
+so near her Time as <i>Bellamora</i> was, she should be troubled, if
+they could not give Security to the Parish of twenty or thirty Pounds,
+that they should not suffer by her, which she could not; or otherwise
+she must be sent to the House of Correction, and her Child to a
+Parish-Nurse. This Discourse, one may imagine, was very dreadful to a
+Person of her Youth, Beauty, Education, Family and Estate: However, she
+resolutely protested, that she had rather undergo all this, than be
+expos’d to the Scorn of her Friends and Relations in the Country. The
+other
+<span class = "pagenum">9</span>
+told her then, that she must write down to her Uncle a Farewell-Letter,
+as if she were just going aboard the Pacquet-Boat for <i>Holland</i>,
+that he might not send to enquire for her in Town, when he should
+understand she was not at her new-married Cousin’s in the Country; which
+accordingly she did, keeping her self close Prisoner to her Chamber;
+where she was daily visited by <i>Fondlove’s</i> Sister and the
+Landlady, but by no Soul else, the first dissembling the Knowledge she
+had of her Misfortunes. Thus she continued for above three Weeks, not a
+Servant being suffer’d to enter her Chamber, so much as to make her Bed,
+lest they should take Notice of her great Belly: but for all this
+Caution, the Secret had taken Wind, by the means of an Attendant of the
+other Lady below, who had over-heard her speaking of it to her Husband.
+This soon got out of Doors, and spread abroad, till it reach’d the long
+Ears of the Wolves of the Parish, who next Day design’d to pay her a
+Visit: But <i>Fondlove</i>, by good Providence, prevented it; who, the
+Night before, was usher’d into <i>Bellamora’s</i> Chamber by his Sister,
+his Brother-in-Law, and the Landlady. At the Sight of him she had like
+to have swoon’d away: but he taking her in his Arms, began again, as he
+was wont to do, with Tears in his Eyes, to beg that she would marry him
+ere she was deliver’d; if not for his, nor her own, yet for the Child’s
+Sake, which she hourly expected; that it might not be born out of
+Wedlock, and so be made uncapable of inheriting either of their Estates;
+with a great many more pressing Arguments on all Sides: To which at last
+she consented; and an honest officious Gentleman, whom they had before
+provided, was call’d up, who made an End of the Dispute: So to Bed they
+went together that Night; next Day to the <a class = "comm" name =
+"black_lady_commtag3" id = "black_lady_commtag3" href =
+"#black_lady_comm3"><i>Exchange</i></a>, for several pretty Businesses
+that Ladies in her Condition want. Whilst they were abroad, came the
+Vermin of the Parish, (I&nbsp;mean, the Overseers of the Poor, who eat
+the Bread from
+<span class = "pagenum">10</span>
+’em) to search for a young Blackhair’d Lady (for so was
+<i>Bellamora</i>) who was either brought to Bed, or just ready to lie
+down. The Landlady shew’d ’em all the Rooms in her House, but no such
+Lady could be found. At last she bethought her self, and led ’em into
+her Parlour, where she open’d a little Closet-door, and shew’d ’em a
+black Cat that had just kitten’d: assuring ’em, that she should never
+trouble the Parish as long as she had Rats or Mice in the House; and so
+dismiss’d ’em like Loggerheads as they came.</p>
+
+<h4 class = "final">FINIS.</h4>
+
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">515</span>
+
+<h5><a name = "black_lady_notes" id = "black_lady_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The Black Lady.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "black_lady_comm1" id = "black_lady_comm1" href =
+"#black_lady_commtag1">p. 3</a>
+<i>Bridges-Street.</i> Brydges Street lies between Russell Street and
+Catherine Street. Drury Lane Theatre is at its N.E. corner. It early
+acquired no very enviable repute, e.g. In the Epilogue to Crowne’s
+<i>Sir Courtly Nice</i> (1685) we have: ‘Our Bridges Street is grown a
+strumpet fair’; and Dryden, in the Epilogue to <i>King Arthur</i>
+(1691), gave Mrs. Bracegirdle, who entered, her hands full of
+billets-doux, the following lines to speak:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class = "verse">
+<p>Here one desires my ladyship to meet &nbsp; [<i>Pulls out
+one.</i></p>
+<p>At the kind couch above in Bridges-Street.</p>
+<p>Oh sharping knave! that would have&mdash;you know what,</p>
+<p>For a poor sneaking treat of chocolate.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "black_lady_comm2" id = "black_lady_comm2" href =
+"#black_lady_commtag2">p. 8</a>
+<i>Star-Inn on Fish-street-Hill.</i> Fish Street Hill, or, New Fish
+Street, runs from Eastcheap to Lower Thames Street, and was the main
+thoroughfare to old London Bridge, cf. 2&nbsp;<i>Henry VI</i>,
+iv,&nbsp;<span class = "smallroman">VIII</span>: ‘<i>Cade.</i> Up Fish
+Street! down St. Magnus’ corner! kill and knock down! throw them into
+the Thames.’</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "black_lady_comm3" id = "black_lady_comm3" href =
+"#black_lady_commtag3">p. 9</a>
+<i>the Exchange.</i> The New Exchange, a kind of bazaar on the South
+side of the Strand. It was an immensely popular resort, and continued so
+until the latter years of the reign of Queen Anne. There are innumerable
+references to its shops, its sempstresses and haberdashers. Thomas
+Duffet was a milliner here before he took to writing farces, prologues
+and poems.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">11</span>
+<a name = "king_bantam" id = "king_bantam">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE COURT OF<br>
+THE KING OF BANTAM.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">13</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "bantam_main" id = "bantam_main">THE COURT OF</a><br>
+THE KING OF <i>BANTAM</i>.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">This</span> Money certainly is a most
+devilish Thing! I’m sure the Want of it had like to have ruin’d my dear
+<i>Philibella</i>, in her Love to <i>Valentine Goodland</i>; who was
+really a pretty deserving Gentleman, Heir to about fifteen hundred
+Pounds a Year; which, however, did not so much recommend him, as the
+Sweetness of his Temper, the Comeliness of his Person, and the
+Excellency of his Parts: In all which Circumstances my obliging
+Acquaintance equal’d him, unless in the Advantage of their Fortune. Old
+Sir <i>George Goodland</i> knew of his Son’s Passion for
+<i>Philibella</i>; and tho’ he was generous, and of a Humour
+sufficiently complying, yet he could by no means think it convenient,
+that his only Son should marry with a young Lady of so slender a Fortune
+as my Friend, who had not above five hundred Pound, and that the Gift of
+her Uncle Sir <i>Philip Friendly</i>: tho’ her Virtue and Beauty might
+have deserv’d, and have adorn’d the Throne of an <i>Alexander</i> or a
+<i>Cæsar</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Sir <i>Philip</i> himself, indeed, was but a younger Brother, tho’ of
+a good Family, and of a generous Education; which, with his Person,
+Bravery, and Wit, recommended him to his Lady <i>Philadelphia</i>, Widow
+of Sir <i>Bartholomew Banquier</i>, who left her possess’d of two
+thousand Pounds <i>per Annum</i>, besides twenty thousand Pounds in
+Money and Jewels; which oblig’d him to get himself dubb’d, that she
+might not descend to an inferior Quality. When he was in Town, he
+liv’d&mdash;let me see! in the <i>Strand</i>; or, as near as I can
+remember, somewhere about <i>Charing-Cross</i>; where first of all Mr.
+<i>Would-be King</i>, a&nbsp;Gentleman of a large
+<span class = "pagenum">14</span>
+Estate in Houses, Land and Money, of a haughty, extravagant and profuse
+Humour, very fond of every new Face, had the Misfortune to fall
+passionately in love with <i>Philibella</i>, who then liv’d with her
+Uncle.</p>
+
+<p>This Mr. <i>Would-be</i> it seems had often been told, when he was
+yet a Stripling, either by one of his Nurses, or his own Grandmother, or
+by some other Gypsy, that he should infallibly be what his Sirname
+imply’d, a&nbsp;King, by Providence or Chance, ere he dy’d, or never.
+This glorious Prophecy had so great an Influence on all his Thoughts and
+Actions, that he distributed and dispers’d his Wealth sometimes so
+largely, that one would have thought he had undoubtedly been King of
+some Part of the <i>Indies</i>; to see a Present made to-day of a
+Diamond Ring, worth two or three hundred Pounds, to Madam
+<i>Flippant</i>; to-morrow, a&nbsp;large Chest of the finest
+<i>China</i> to my Lady <i>Fleecewell</i>; and next Day, perhaps,
+a&nbsp;rich Necklace of large Oriental Pearl, with a Locket to it of
+Saphires, Emeralds, Rubies, &amp;c., to pretty Miss <i>Ogle-me</i>, for
+an amorous Glance, for a Smile, and (it&nbsp;may be, tho’ but rarely)
+for the mighty Blessing of one single Kiss. But such were his Largesses,
+not to reckon his Treats, his Balls, and Serenades besides, tho’ at the
+same time he had marry’d a virtuous Lady, and of good Quality: But her
+Relation to him (it&nbsp;may be fear’d) made her very disagreeable: For
+a Man of his Humour and Estate can no more be satisfy’d with one Woman,
+than with one Dish of Meat; and to say Truth, ’tis something unmodish.
+However, he might have dy’d a pure Celibate, and altogether unexpert of
+Women, had his good or bad Hopes only terminated in Sir <i>Philip’s</i>
+Niece. But the brave and haughty Mr. <i>Would-be</i> was not to be
+baulk’d by Appearances of Virtue, which <ins class = "correction" title
+= "text reads ‘be’">he</ins> thought all Womankind only did affect;
+besides, he promis’d himself the Victory over any Lady whom he
+attempted, by the Force of his damn’d Money, tho’ her Virtue were ever
+so real and strict.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">15</span>
+<p>With <i>Philibella</i> he found another pretty young Creature, very
+like her, who had been a <i>quondam</i> Mistress to Sir <i>Philip</i>:
+He, with young <i>Goodland</i>, was then diverting his Mistress and
+Niece at a Game at Cards, when <i>Would-be</i> came to visit him; he
+found ’em very merry, with a Flask or two of Claret before ’em, and
+Oranges roasting by a large Fire, for it was <i>Christmas-time</i>. The
+Lady <i>Friendly</i> understanding that this extraordinary Man was with
+Sir <i>Philip</i> in the Parlour, came in to ’em, to make the number of
+both Sexes equal, as well as in Hopes to make up a Purse of Guineas
+toward the Purchase of some new fine Business that she had in her Head,
+from his accustom’d Design of losing at Play to her. Indeed, she had
+Part of her Wish, for she got twenty Guineas of him; <i>Philibella</i>
+ten; and <i>Lucy</i>, Sir <i>Philip’s</i> quondam, five: Not but that
+<i>Would-be</i> intended better Fortune to the young ones, than he did
+to Sir <i>Philip’s</i> Lady; but her Ladyship was utterly unwilling to
+give him over to their Management, tho’ at the last, when they were all
+tir’d with the Cards, after <i>Would-be</i> had said as many obliging
+things as his present Genius would give him leave, to <i>Philibella</i>
+and <i>Lucy</i>, especially to the first, not forgetting his Baisemains
+to the Lady <i>Friendly</i>, he bid the Knight and <i>Goodland</i>
+adieu; but with a Promise of repeating his Visit at six a-clock in the
+Evening on <i>Twelfth-Day</i>, to renew the famous and antient Solemnity
+of chusing King and Queen; to which Sir <i>Philip</i> before invited
+him, with a Design yet unknown to you, I&nbsp;hope.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he was gone, every one made their Remarks on him, but with
+very little or no Difference in all their Figures of him. In short, all
+Mankind, had they ever known him, would have universally agreed in this
+his Character, That he was an Original; since nothing in Humanity was
+ever so vain, so haughty, so profuse, so fond, and so ridiculously
+ambitious, as Mr. <i>Would-be King</i>. They laugh’d and talk’d about an
+Hour longer, and then
+<span class = "pagenum">16</span>
+young <i>Goodland</i> was oblig’d to see <i>Lucy</i> home in his Coach;
+tho’ he had rather have sat up all Night in the same House with
+<i>Philibella</i>, I fancy, of whom he took but an unwilling Leave;
+which was visible enough to every one there, since they were all
+acquainted with his Passion for my fair Friend.</p>
+
+<p>About twelve a-clock on the Day prefix’d, young <i>Goodland</i> came
+to dine with Sir <i>Philip</i>, whom he found just return’d from Court,
+in a very good Humour. On the Sight of <i>Valentine</i>, the Knight ran
+to him, and embracing him, told him, That he had prevented his Wishes,
+in coming thither before he sent for him, as he had just then design’d.
+The other return’d, that he therefore hoped he might be of some Service
+to him, by so happy a Prevention of his intended Kindness. No doubt
+(reply’d Sir <i>Philip</i>) the Kindness, I&nbsp;hope, will be to us
+both; I&nbsp;am assur’d it will, if you will act according to my
+Measures. I&nbsp;desire no better Prescriptions for my Happiness
+(return’d <i>Valentine</i>) than what you shall please to set down to
+me: But is it necessary or convenient that I should know ’em first? It
+is, (answer’d Sir <i>Philip</i>) let us sit, and you shall understand
+’em.&mdash;I&nbsp;am very sensible (continu’d&nbsp;he) of your sincere
+and honourable Affection and Pretension to my Niece, who, perhaps, is as
+dear to me as my own Child could be, had I one; nor am I ignorant how
+averse Sir <i>George</i> your Father is to your Marriage with her,
+insomuch that I am confident he would disinherit you immediately upon
+it, merely for want of a Fortune somewhat proportionable to your Estate:
+but I have now contrived the Means to add two or three thousand Pounds
+to the five hundred I have design’d to give with her; I&nbsp;mean, if
+you marry her, <i>Val</i>, not otherwise; for I will not labour so for
+any other Man. What inviolable Obligations you put upon me! (cry’d
+<i>Goodland</i>.) No Return, by way of Compliments, good <i>Val</i>,
+(said the Knight:) Had I not engag’d to my Wife, before Marriage,
+<span class = "pagenum">17</span>
+that I would not dispose of any part of what she brought me, without her
+Consent, I&nbsp;would certainly make <i>Philibella’s</i> Fortune
+answerable to your Estate: And besides, my Wife is not yet full eight
+and twenty, and we may therefore expect Children of our own, which
+hinders me from proposing any thing more for the Advantage of my
+Niece.&mdash;But now to my Instructions;&mdash;<i>King</i> will be here
+this Evening without fail, and, at some Time or other to-night, will
+shew the Haughtiness of his Temper to you, I&nbsp;doubt not, since you
+are in a manner a Stranger to him: Be sure therefore you seem to quarrel
+with him before you part, but suffer as much as you can first from his
+Tongue; for I know he will give you Occasions enough to exercise your
+passive Valour. I&nbsp;must appear his Friend, and you must retire Home,
+if you please, for this Night, but let me see you as early as your
+Convenience will permit to-morrow: my late Friend <i>Lucy</i> must be my
+Niece too. Observe this, and leave the rest to me. I&nbsp;shall most
+punctually, and will in all things be directed by you, (said
+<i>Valentine</i>.) I had forgot to tell you (said <i>Friendly</i>) that
+I have so order’d matters, that he must be King to-night, and
+<i>Lucy</i> Queen, by the Lots in the Cake. By all means (return’d
+<i>Goodland</i>;) it must be Majesty.</p>
+
+<p>Exactly at six a’clock came <i>Wou’d-be</i> in his Coach and six, and
+found Sir <i>Philip</i>, and his Lady, <i>Goodland</i>,
+<i>Philibella</i>, and <i>Lucy</i> ready to receive him; <i>Lucy</i> as
+fine as a Dutchess, and almost as beautiful as she was before her Fall.
+All things were in ample Order for his Entertainment. They play’d till
+Supper was serv’d in, which was between eight and nine. The Treat was
+very seasonable and splendid. Just as the second Course was set on the
+Table, they were all on a sudden surpriz’d, except <i>Would-be</i>, with
+a Flourish of Violins, and other Instruments, which proceeded to
+entertain ’em with the best and newest Airs in the <a class = "comm"
+name = "bantam_commtag1" id = "bantam_commtag1" href =
+"#bantam_comm1">last new Plays, being then in the Year 1683</a>. The
+Ladies were curious to know to whom they ow’d the chearful
+<span class = "pagenum">18</span>
+part of their Entertainment: On which he call’d out, Hey! <i>Tom Farmer!
+Ale-worth! Eccles! Hall!</i> and the rest of you! Here’s a Health to
+these Ladies, and all this honourable Company. They bow’d; he drank, and
+commanded another Glass to be fill’d, into which he put something yet
+better than the Wine, I&nbsp;mean, ten Guineas: Here, <i>Farmer</i>,
+(said he then) this for you and your Friends. We humbly thank the
+honourable Mr. <i>Would-be King</i>. They all return’d, and struck up
+with more Spriteliness than before. For Gold and Wine, doubtless, are
+the best Rosin for Musicians.</p>
+
+<p>After Supper they took a hearty Glass or two to the King, Queen,
+Duke, &amp;c. And then the mighty Cake, teeming with the Fate of this
+extraordinary Personage, was brought in, the Musicians playing an
+Overture at the Entrance of the <i>Alimental Oracle</i>; which was then
+cut and consulted, and the royal Bean and Pea fell to those to whom Sir
+<i>Philip</i> had design’d ’em. ’Twas then the Knight began a merry
+Bumper, with three Huzza’s, and, <i>Long live King
+<em>Would-be!</em></i> to <i>Goodland</i>, who echo’d and pledg’d him,
+putting the Glass about to the harmonious Attendants; while the Ladies
+drank their own Quantities among themselves, <i>To his aforesaid
+Majesty</i>. Then of course you may believe Queen <i>Lucy’s</i> Health
+went merrily round, with the same Ceremony: After which he saluted his
+Royal Consort, and condescended to do the same Honour to the two other
+Ladies.</p>
+
+<p>Then they fell a dancing, like Lightning; I mean, they mov’d as
+swift, and made almost as little Noise; But his Majesty was soon weary
+of that; for he long’d to be making love both to <i>Philibella</i> and
+<i>Lucy</i>, who (believe&nbsp;me) that Night might well enough have
+passed for a Queen.</p>
+
+<p>They fell then to Questions and Commands; to cross Purposes:
+<i>I&nbsp;think a Thought, what is it like?</i> &amp;c. In all which,
+his <i>Would-be</i> Majesty took the Opportunity of shewing the
+Excellency of his Parts, as, How fit he was
+<span class = "pagenum">19</span>
+to govern! How dextrous at mining and countermining! and, How he could
+reconcile the most contrary and distant Thoughts! The Musick, at last,
+good as it was, grew troublesome and too loud; which made him dismiss
+them: And then he began to this effect, addressing himself to
+<i>Philibella</i>: Madam, had Fortune been just, and were it possible
+that the World should be govern’d and influenc’d by two Suns,
+undoubtedly we had all been Subjects to you, from this Night’s Chance,
+as well as to that Lady, who indeed alone can equal you in the Empire of
+Beauty, which yet you share with her Majesty here present, who only
+could dispute it with you, and is only superior to you in Title. My Wife
+is infinitely oblig’d to your Majesty, (interrupted Sir <i>Philip</i>)
+who in my Opinion, has greater Charms, and more than both of them
+together. You ought to think so, Sir <i>Philip</i> (returned the new
+dubb’d King) however you should not liberally have express’d your self,
+in Opposition and Derogation to Majesty:&mdash;Let me tell you ’tis a
+saucy Boldness that thus has loos’d your Tongue!&mdash;What think you,
+young Kinsman and Counsellor? (said he to <i>Goodland</i>.) With all
+Respect due to your sacred Title, (return’d <i>Valentene</i>, rising and
+bowing) Sir <i>Philip</i> spoke as became a truly affectionate Husband;
+and it had been Presumption in him, unpardonable, to have seem’d to
+prefer her Majesty, or that other sweet Lady, in his Thoughts, since
+your Majesty has been pleas’d to say so much and so particularly of
+their Merits: ’Twould appear as if he durst lift up his Eyes, with
+Thoughts too near the Heaven you only would enjoy. And only can deserve,
+you should have added, (said <i>King</i>, no longer <i>Would-be</i>.)
+How! may it please your Majesty (cry’d <i>Friendly</i>) both my Nieces!
+tho’ you deserve ten thousand more, and better, would your Majesty enjoy
+them both? Are they then both your Nieces? (asked Chance’s King). Yes,
+both, Sir (return’d the Knight,) her Majesty’s the eldest, and in that
+Fortune has shewn some Justice. So
+<span class = "pagenum">20</span>
+she has (reply’d the titular Monarch<ins class = "correction" title =
+"close parenthesis missing">):</ins> My Lot is fair (pursu’d&nbsp;he)
+tho’ I&nbsp;can be bless’d but with one.</p>
+
+<div class = "verse ital">
+<p>Let Majesty with Majesty be join’d,</p>
+<p>To get and leave a Race of Kings behind.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Come, Madam (continued he, kissing <i>Lucy</i><ins class = "correction" title =
+"close parenthesis missing">,)</ins> this, as an Earnest
+of our future Endeavours. I&nbsp;fear (return’d the pretty Queen) your
+Majesty will forget the unhappy <a class = "comm" name =
+"bantam_commtag2" id = "bantam_commtag2" href =
+"#bantam_comm2"><i>Statira</i></a>, when you return to the Embraces of
+your dear and beautiful <a class = "comm" href =
+"#bantam_comm2"><i>Roxana</i></a>. There is none beautiful but you
+(reply’d the titular King) unless this Lady, to whom I yet could pay my
+Vows most zealously, were’t not that Fortune has thus pre-engaged me.
+But, Madam (continued&nbsp;he) to shew that still you hold our Royal
+Favour, and that, next to our Royal Consort, we esteem you, we greet you
+thus (kissing <i>Philibella</i>;) and as a Signal of our continued Love,
+wear this rich Diamond: (here he put a Diamond Ring on her Finger, worth
+three hundred Pounds.) Your Majesty (pursu’d he to <i>Lucy</i>) may
+please to wear this Necklace, with this Locket of Emeralds. Your Majesty
+is bounteous as a God! (said <i>Valentine</i>.) Art thou in Want, young
+Spark? (ask’d the King of <i>Bantam</i>) I’ll give thee an Estate shall
+make thee merit the Mistress of thy Vows, be she who she will. That is
+my other Niece, Sir, (cry’d <i>Friendly</i>.) How! how! presumptious
+Youth! How are thy Eyes and Thoughts exalted? ha! To Bliss your Majesty
+must never hope for, (reply’d <i>Goodland</i>.) How now! thou Creature
+of the basest Mold! Not hope for what thou dost aspire to!
+<i>Mock-King</i>; thou canst not, dar’st not, shalt not hope it:
+(return’d <i>Valentine</i> in a heat.) Hold, <i>Val</i>, (cry’d Sir
+<i>Philip</i>) you grow warm, forget your Duty to their Majesties, and
+abuse your Friends, by making us suspected. Good-night, dear
+<i>Philibella</i>, and my Queen! Madam, I&nbsp;am your Ladyship’s
+Servant (said <i>Goodland</i>:) Farewel, Sir <i>Philip</i>: Adieu, thou
+Pageant! thou Property-King! I&nbsp;shall see thy Brother on the Stage
+ere long; but
+<span class = "pagenum">21</span>
+first I’ll visit thee: and in the meantime, by way of Return to thy
+proffer’d Estate, I&nbsp;shall add a real Territory to the rest of thy
+empty Titles; for from thy Education, barbarous manner of Conversation,
+and Complexion, I&nbsp;think I may justly proclaim thee, <i>King of
+<em>Bantam</em></i>&mdash;So, <i>Hail, King that Would-be! Hail
+thou King of <em>Christmas</em>! All-hail, Wou’d-be King of
+<em>Bantam</em></i>&mdash;and so he left ’em.&mdash;They all seem’d
+amazed, and gaz’d on one another, without speaking a Syllable; ’till Sir
+<i>Philip</i> broke the Charm, and sigh’d out, Oh, the monstrous Effects
+of Passion! Say rather, Oh, the foolish Effects of a mean Education!
+(interrupted his Majesty of <i>Bantam</i>.) For Passions were given us
+for Use, Reason to govern and direct us in the Use, and Education to
+cultivate and refine that Reason. But (pursu’d&nbsp;he) for all his
+Impudence to me, which I shall take a time to correct, I&nbsp;am oblig’d
+to him, that at last he has found me out a Kingdom to my Title; and if I
+were Monarch of that Place (believe me, Ladies) I&nbsp;would make you
+all Princesses and Duchesses; and thou, my old Companion,
+<i>Friendly</i>, should rule the Roast with me. But these Ladies should
+be with us there, where we could erect Temples and Altars to ’em; build
+Golden Palaces of Love, and Castles&mdash;in the Air (interrupted her
+Majesty, <i>Lucy</i>&nbsp;I. smiling.) ‘Gad take me (cry’d King
+<i>Wou’d-be</i>) thou dear Partner of my Greatness, and shalt be, of all
+my Pleasures! thy pretty satirical Observation has oblig’d me beyond
+Imitation<ins class = "correction" title = "close quote missing">.’</ins>
+I think your Majesty is got into a Vein of Rhiming
+to-night, (said <i>Philadelphia</i>.) Ay! Pox of that young insipid Fop,
+we could else have been as great as an Emperor of <i>China</i>, and as
+witty as <i>Horace</i> in his Wine; but let him go, like a pragmatical,
+captious, giddy Fool as he is! I&nbsp;shall take a Time to see him. Nay,
+Sir, (said <i>Philibella</i>) he has promis’d your Majesty a Visit in
+our Hearing. Come, Sir, I&nbsp;beg your Majesty to pledge me this Glass
+to your long and happy Reign; laying aside all Thoughts of ungovern’d
+Youth:
+<span class = "pagenum">22</span>
+Besides, this Discourse must needs be ungrateful to her Majesty, to
+whom, I&nbsp;fear, he will be marry’d within this Month! How! (cry’d
+<i>King and no King</i>) married to my Queen! I&nbsp;must not, cannot
+suffer it! Pray restrain your self a little, Sir (said Sir
+<i>Philip</i>) and when once these Ladies have left us, I&nbsp;will
+discourse your Majesty further about this Business. Well, pray, Sir
+<i>Philip</i>, (said his Lady) let not your Worship be pleas’d to sit up
+too long for his Majesty: About five o’Clock I shall expect you; ’tis
+your old Hour. And yours, Madam, to wake to receive me coming to
+Bed&mdash;Your Ladyship understands me, (return’d <i>Friendly</i>.)
+You’re merry, my Love, you’re merry, (cry’d <i>Philadelphia</i>:) Come,
+Niece, to Bed! to Bed! Ay, (said the Knight) Go, both of you and sleep
+together, if you can, without the Thoughts of a Lover, or a Husband. His
+Majesty was pleas’d to wish them a good Repose; and so, with a Kiss,
+they parted for that time.</p>
+
+<p>Now we’re alone (said Sir <i>Philip</i>) let me assure you, Sir,
+I&nbsp;resent this Affront done to you by Mr. <i>Goodland</i>, almost as
+highly as you can: and tho’ I&nbsp;can’t wish that you should take such
+Satisfaction, as perhaps some other hotter Sparks would; yet let me say,
+his Miscarriage ought not to go unpunish’d in him. Fear not (reply’d
+t’other) I&nbsp;shall give him a sharp Lesson. No, Sir (return’d
+<i>Friendly</i>) I would not have you think of a bloody Revenge; for
+’tis that which possibly he designs on you: I&nbsp;know him brave as any
+Man. However, were it convenient that the Sword should determine betwixt
+you, you should not want mine: The Affront is partly to me, since done
+in my House; but I’ve already laid down safer Measures for us, tho’ of
+more fatal Consequence to him: that is, I’ve form’d them in my Thoughts.
+Dismiss your Coach and Equipage, all but one Servant, and I will
+discourse it to you at large. ’Tis now past Twelve; and if you please,
+I&nbsp;would invite you to take up as easy a Lodging here, as my House
+will afford. (Accordingly they were dismiss’d, and he
+<span class = "pagenum">23</span>
+proceeded:)&mdash;As I hinted to you before, he is in love with my
+youngest Niece, <i>Philibella</i>; but her Fortune not exceeding five
+hundred Pound, his Father will assuredly disinherit him, if he marries
+her: tho’ he has given his Consent that he should marry her eldest
+Sister, whose Father dying ere he knew his Wife was with child of the
+youngest, left <i>Lucy</i> three thousand Pounds, being as much as he
+thought convenient to match her handsomly; and accordingly the Nuptials
+of young <i>Goodland</i> and <i>Lucy</i> are to be celebrated next
+<i>Easter</i>. They shall not, if I can hinder them (interrupted his
+offended Majesty.) Never endeavour the Obstruction (said the Knight) for
+I’ll shew you the Way to a dearer Vengeance: Women are Women, your
+Majesty knows; she may be won to your Embraces before that time, and
+then you antedate him your Creature. A&nbsp;Cuckold, you mean (cry’d
+King in Fancy:) O&nbsp;exquisite Revenge! but can you consent that I
+should attempt it? What is’t to me? We live not in <i>Spain</i>, where
+all the Relations of the Family are oblig’d to vindicate a Whore: No,
+I&nbsp;would wound him in his most tender Part. But how shall we compass
+it? (ask’d t’other.) Why thus, throw away three thousand Pounds on the
+youngest Sister, as a Portion, to make her as happy as she can be in her
+new Lover, Sir <i>Frederick Flygold</i>, an extravagant young Fop, and
+wholly given over to Gaming; so, ten to one, but you may retrieve your
+Money of him, and have the two Sisters at your Devotion. Oh, thou my
+better Genius than that which was given to me by Heaven at my Birth!
+What Thanks, what Praises shall I return and sing to thee for this!
+(cry’d King <i>Conundrum</i>.) No Thanks, no Praises, I&nbsp;beseech
+your Majesty, since in this I gratify my self&mdash;You think I am your
+Friend? and, you will agree to this? (said <i>Friendly</i>, by way of
+Question.) Most readily, (returned the Fop King:) Would it were broad
+Day, that I might send for the Money to my Banker’s; for in all my Life,
+in all my Frolicks, Encounters and Extravagances, I&nbsp;never
+<span class = "pagenum">24</span>
+had one so grateful, and so pleasant as this will be, if you are in
+earnest, to gratify both my Love and Revenge! That I am in earnest, you
+will not doubt, when you see with what Application I shall pursue my
+Design: In the mean Time, <i>My Duty to your Majesty; To our good
+Success in this Affair</i>. While he drank, t’other return’d, <i>With
+all my Heart</i>; and pledg’d him. Then <i>Friendly</i> began afresh:
+Leave the whole Management of this to me; only one thing more I think
+necessary, that you make a Present of five hundred Guineas to her
+Majesty, the Bride that must be. By all means (return’d the wealthy King
+of <i>Bantam</i>;) I had so design’d before. Well, Sir (said Sir
+<i>Philip</i>) what think you of a set Party or two at <i>Piquet</i>, to
+pass away a few Hours, till we can sleep? A&nbsp;seasonable and welcome
+Proposition (returned the King;) but I won’t play above twenty Guineas
+the Game, and <a class = "comm" name = "bantam_commtag3" id =
+"bantam_commtag3" href = "#bantam_comm3">forty the Lurch</a>. Agreed
+(said <i>Friendly</i>;) first call in your Servant; mine is here
+already. The Slave came in, and they began, with unequal Fortune at
+first; for the Knight had lost a hundred Guineas to Majesty, which he
+paid in Specie; and then propos’d fifty Guineas the Game, and a hundred
+the Lurch. To which t’other consented; and without winning more than
+three Games, and those not together, made shift to get three thousand
+two hundred Guineas in debt to Sir <i>Philip</i>; for which Majesty was
+pleas’d to give him Bond, whether <i>Friendly</i> would or&nbsp;no,</p>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<i>Seal’d and deliver’d in the Presence of</i>,</p>
+
+<p class = "right">
+The Mark of (<i>W.</i>) <i>Will. Watchful</i>.<br>
+And, (<ins class = "correction" title = "no ."><i>S</i></ins>) <i>Sim.
+Slyboots</i>. &emsp;</p>
+
+<p>A couple of delicate Beagles, their mighty Attendants.</p>
+
+<p>It was then about the Hour that Sir <i>Philip’s</i> (and, it may be,
+other Ladies) began to yawn and stretch; when the Spirits refresh’d,
+troul’d about, and tickled the Blood with Desires of Action; which made
+Majesty and Worship think of a Retreat to Bed: where in less than half
+an Hour,
+<span class = "pagenum">25</span>
+or before ever he cou’d say his Prayers, I’m sure the first fell fast
+asleep; but the last, perhaps, paid his accustom’d Devotion, ere he
+begun his Progress to the Shadow of Death. However, he waked earlier
+than his Cully Majesty, and got up to receive young <i>Goodland</i>, who
+came according to his Word, with the first Opportunity. Sir
+<i>Philip</i> receiv’d him with more than usual Joy, tho’ not with
+greater Kindness, and let him know every Syllable and Accident that had
+pass’d between them till they went to Bed: which you may believe was not
+a little pleasantly surprizing to <i>Valentine</i>, who began then to
+have some Assurance of his Happiness with <i>Philibella</i>. His Friend
+told him, that he must now be reconcil’d to his <i>Mock-Majesty</i>,
+tho’ with some Difficulty; and so taking one hearty Glass a-piece, he
+left <i>Valentine</i> in the Parlour to carry the ungrateful News of his
+Visit to him that Morning. King <span class =
+"dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span> was in an odd sort of taking, when he heard
+that <i>Valentine</i> was below; and had been, as Sir <i>Philip</i>
+inform’d <i>Majesty</i>, at <i>Majesty’s</i> Palace, to enquire for him
+there: But when he told him, that he had already school’d him on his own
+Behalf, for the Affront done in his House, and that he believ’d he could
+bring his Majesty off without any loss of present Honour, his
+Countenance visibly discover’d his past Fear, and present Satisfaction;
+which was much encreas’d too, when <i>Friendly</i> shewing him his Bond
+for the Money he won of him at play, let him know, that if he paid three
+thousand Guineas to <i>Philibella</i>, he would immediately deliver him
+up his Bond, and not expect the two hundred Guineas overplus. His
+Majesty of <i>Bantam</i> was then in so good a Humour, that he could
+have made Love to Sir <i>Philip</i>; nay, I&nbsp;believe he could have
+kiss’d <i>Valentine</i>, instead of seeming angry. Down they came, and
+saluted like Gentlemen: But after the Greeting was over, <i>Goodland</i>
+began to talk something of Affront, Satisfaction, Honour, <i>&amp;c.</i>
+when immediately <i>Friendly</i> interpos’d, and after a little seeming
+Uneasiness and Reluctancy,
+<span class = "pagenum">26</span>
+reconcil’d the hot and cholerick Youth to the cold phlegmatick King.</p>
+
+<p>Peace was no sooner proclaim’d, than the King of <i>Bantam</i> took
+his Rival and late Antagonist with him in his own Coach, not excluding
+Sir <i>Philip</i> by any means, to <a class = "comm" name =
+"bantam_commtag4" id = "bantam_commtag4" href =
+"#bantam_comm4"><i>Locket’s</i>, where they din’d</a>: Thence he would
+have ’em to Court with him, where he met the Lady <i>Flippant</i>, the
+Lady <i>Harpy</i>, the Lady <i>Crocodile</i>, Madam <i>Tattlemore</i>,
+Miss <i>Medler</i>, Mrs. <i>Gingerly</i>, a&nbsp;rich Grocer’s Wife, and
+some others, besides Knights and Gentlemen of as good Humours as the
+Ladies; all whom he invited to a Ball at his own House, the Night
+following; his own Lady being then in the Country. Madam
+<i>Tattlemore</i>, I think was the first he spoke to in Court, and whom
+first he surpriz’d with the happy News of his Advancement to the Title
+of King of <i>Bantam</i>. How wondrous hasty was she to be gone, as soon
+as she heard it! ’Twas not in her Power, because not in her Nature, to
+stay long enough to take a civil Leave of the Company; but away she
+flew, big with the empty Title of a fantastick King, proclaiming it to
+every one of her Acquaintance, as she passed through every Room, till
+she came to the <i>Presence-Chamber</i>, where she only whisper’d it;
+but her Whispers made above half the honourable Company quit the
+Presence of the King of <i>Great-Britain</i>, to go make their Court to
+his Majesty of <i>Bantam</i>: some cry’d, <i>God bless your Majesty!</i>
+Some <i>Long live the King of <em>Bantam</em>!</i> Others, <i>All Hail
+to your Sacred Majesty</i>; In short, he was congratulated on all Sides.
+Indeed I don’t hear that his Majesty King <i>Charles</i> II. ever sent
+an Ambassador to compliment him; tho’ possibly, he saluted him by his
+Title the first time he saw him afterwards: For, you know, he is a
+wonderful good-natur’d and well-bred Gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>After he thought the Court of <i>England</i> was universally
+acquainted with his mighty Honour, he was pleas’d to think fit to retire
+to his own more private Palace, with Sir <i>Philip</i> and
+<span class = "pagenum">27</span>
+<i>Goodland</i>, whom he entertain’d that Night very handsomly, till
+about seven o’Clock; when they went together to the Play, which was that
+Night, <a class = "comm" name = "bantam_commtag5" id = "bantam_commtag5"
+href = "#bantam_comm5"><i>A&nbsp;King and no King</i></a>. His
+Attendant-Friends could not forbear smiling, to think how aptly the
+Title of the Play suited his Circumstances. Nor could he choose but take
+Notice of it behind the Scenes, between Jest and Earnest; telling the
+Players how kind Fortune had been the Night past, in disposing the Bean
+to him; and justifying what one of her Prophetesses had foretold some
+Years since. I&nbsp;shall now no more regard (said&nbsp;he) that old
+doating Fellow <i>Pythagoras’s</i> Saying <i>Abstineto a Fabis</i>, That
+is, (added he, by way of Construction) <i>Abstain from Beans</i>: for I
+find the Excellency of ’em in Cakes and Dishes; from the first, they
+inspire the Soul with mighty Thoughts; and from the last our Bodies
+receive a strong and wholesom Nourishment. That is, (said a Wag among
+those sharp Youths, I&nbsp;think ’twas my Friend the Count) these puff
+you up in Mind, Sir, those in Body. They had some further Discourse
+among the Nymphs of the Stage, ere they went into the Pit; where Sir
+<i>Philip</i> spread the News of his Friend’s Accession to the Title,
+tho’ not yet to the Throne of <i>Bantam</i>; upon which he was there
+again complimented on that Occasion. Several of the Ladies and Gentlemen
+who saluted him, he invited to the next Night’s Ball at his Palace.</p>
+
+<p>The Play done, they took each of them a Bottle at <a class = "comm"
+name = "bantam_commtag6" id = "bantam_commtag6" href =
+"#bantam_comm6">the <i>Rose</i></a>, and parted till Seven the Night
+following; which came not sooner than desired: for he had taken such
+Care, that all things were in readiness before Eight, only he was not to
+expect the Musick till the End of the Play. About Nine, Sir
+<i>Philip</i>, his Lady, <i>Goodland</i>, <i>Philibella</i>, and
+<i>Lucy</i> came. Sir <i>Philip</i> return’d him <i>Rabelais</i>, which
+he had borrow’d of him, wherein the Knight had written, in an old odd
+sort of a Character, this Prophecy of his own making; with which he
+surpriz’d the Majesty of <i>Bantam</i>, who vow’d he had never taken
+Notice of it before; but
+<span class = "pagenum">28</span>
+he said, he perceiv’d it had been long written by the Character; and
+here it follows, as near as I can remember:</p>
+
+<div class = "verse ital">
+<p>When <em>M. D. C.</em> come <em>L.</em> before,</p>
+<p>Three <em>XXX</em>’s, two II’s and one I. more;</p>
+<p>Then <em><span class = "extended">KING</span></em>, tho’ now but Name
+to thee,</p>
+<p>Shall both thy Name and Title be.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>They had hardly made an End of reading it, ere the whole Company, and
+more than he had invited, came in, and were receiv’d with a great deal
+of Formality and Magnificence. <i>Lucy</i> was there attended as his
+Queen; and <i>Philibella</i>, as the Princess her Sister. They danc’d
+then till they were weary; and afterwards retired to another large Room,
+where they found the Tables spread and furnished with all the most
+seasonable cold Meat; which was succeeded by the choicest Fruits, and
+the richest Desert of Sweetmeats that Luxury could think on, or at least
+that this Town could afford. The Wines were all most excellent in their
+Kind; and their Spirits flew about thro’ every Corner of the House:
+There was scarce a Spark sober in the whole Company, with drinking
+repeated Glasses to the Health of the King of <i>Bantam</i>, and his
+Royal Consort, with the Princess <i>Philibella’s</i> who sat together
+under a Royal Canopy of State, his Majesty between the two beautiful
+Sisters: only <i>Friendly</i> and <i>Goodland</i> wisely manag’d that
+part of the Engagement where they were concern’d, and preserv’d
+themselves from the Heat of the Debauch.</p>
+
+<p>Between Three and Four most of them began to draw off, laden with
+Fruit and Sweetmeats, and rich Favours compos’d of Yellow, Green, Red
+and White, the Colours of his new Majesty of <i>Bantam</i>. Before Five
+they were left to themselves; when the Lady <i>Friendly</i> was
+discompos’d, for want of Sleep, and her usual Cordial, which obliged Sir
+<i>Philip</i> to wait on her Home, with his two Nieces: But his Majesty
+would by no means part with
+<span class = "pagenum">29</span>
+<i>Goodland</i>; whom, before Nine that Morning, he made as drunk as a
+Lord, and by Consequence, one of his Peers; for Majesty was then,
+indeed, as great as an Emperor: He fancy’d himself <i>Alexander</i>, and
+young <i>Valentine</i> his <i>Hephestion</i>; and did so be-buss him,
+that the young Gentleman fear’d he was fallen into the Hands of an
+<i>Italian</i>. However, by the kind Persuasions of his condescending
+and dissembling Majesty, he ventur’d to go into Bed with him; where King
+<i>Would-be</i> fell asleep, hand-over-head: and not long after,
+<i>Goodland</i>, his new-made Peer, follow’d him to the cool Retreats of
+<i>Morpheus</i>.</p>
+
+<p>About Three the next Afternoon they both wak’d, as by consent, and
+called to dress. And after that Business was over, I&nbsp;think they
+swallow’d each of ’em a Pint of <i>Old-Hock</i>, with a little Sugar, by
+the way of healing. Their Coaches were got ready in the mean time; but
+the Peer was forced to accept of the Honour of being carried in his
+Majesty’s to Sir <i>Philip’s</i>, whom they found just risen from
+Dinner, with <i>Philadelphia</i> and his two Nieces. They sat down, and
+ask’d for something to relish a Glass of Wine, and Sir <i>Philip</i>
+order’d a cold Chine to be set before ’em, of which they eat about an
+Ounce a-piece; but they drank more by half, I&nbsp;dare say.</p>
+
+<p>After their little Repast, <i>Friendly</i> call’d the
+<i>Would-be-Monarch</i> aside, and told him, that he would have him go
+to the Play that Night, which was <a class = "comm" name =
+"bantam_commtag7" id = "bantam_commtag7" href = "#bantam_comm7"><i>The
+London-Cuckolds</i></a>; promising to meet him there in less than half
+an Hour after his Departure: telling him withal, that he would surprize
+him with a much better Entertainment than the Stage afforded.
+<i>Majesty</i> took the Hint, imagining, and that rightly, that the
+Knight had some Intrigue in his Head, for the Promotion of the
+Commonwealth of Cuckoldom: In order therefore to his Advice, he took his
+leave about a quarter of an Hour after.</p>
+
+<p>When he was gone, Sir <i>Philip</i> thus bespoke his pretended Niece:
+Madam, I&nbsp;hope your Majesty will not
+<span class = "pagenum">30</span>
+refuse me the Honour of waiting on you to a Place where you will meet
+with better Entertainment than your Majesty can expect from the best
+Comedy in Christendom. <i>Val</i>, (continued&nbsp;he) you must go with
+us, to secure me against the Jealousy of my Wife. That, indeed (return’d
+his Lady) is very material; and you are mightily concern’d not to give
+me Occasion, I&nbsp;must own. You see I am now, (replied&nbsp;he:)
+But&mdash;come! on with Hoods and Scarf! (pursued he, to <i>Lucy</i>.)
+Then addressing himself again to his Lady; Madam, (said&nbsp;he) we’ll
+wait on you. In less Time than I could have drank a Bottle to my Share,
+the Coach was got ready, and on they drove to the Play-House. By the
+way, said <i>Friendly</i> to <i>Val.</i>&mdash;<a class = "comm" name =
+"bantam_commtag8" id = "bantam_commtag8" href = "#bantam_comm8">Your
+Honour, noble Peer, must be set down at <i>Long’s</i></a>; for only
+<i>Lucy</i> and I must be seen to his Majesty of <i>Bantam</i>: And now,
+I&nbsp;doubt not, you understand what you must trust to.&mdash;To be
+robb’d of her Majesty’s Company, I&nbsp;warrant (return’d the other) for
+these long three Hours. Why (cry’d <i>Lucy</i>) you don’t mean,
+I&nbsp;hope, to leave me with his Majesty of <i>Bantam</i>? ’Tis for thy
+Good, Child! ’Tis for thy Good (return’d <i>Friendly</i>.) To the
+<i>Rose</i> they got then; where <i>Goodland</i> alighted, and expected
+Sir <i>Philip</i>; who led <i>Lucy</i> into <a class = "comm" name =
+"bantam_commtag9" id = "bantam_commtag9" href = "#bantam_comm9">the
+King’s Box</a>, to his new Majesty; where, after the first Scene, he
+left them together. The over-joy’d fantastick Monarch would fain have
+said some fine obliging Things to the Knight, as he was going out; but
+<i>Friendly’s</i> Haste prevented ’em, who went directly to
+<i>Valentine</i>, took one Glass, call’d a Reckoning, mounted his
+Chariot, and away Home they came: where I believe he was welcome to his
+Lady; for I never heard any thing to the contrary.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean Time, his Majesty had not the Patience to stay out half
+the Play, at which he was saluted by above twenty Gentlemen and Ladies
+by his new and mighty Title: but out he led Miss Majesty ere the third
+Act was half done; pretending, that it was so damn’d a bawdy Play, that
+he knew her Modesty had been already but
+<span class = "pagenum">31</span>
+too much offended at it; so into his Coach he got her. When they were
+seated, she told him she would go to no Place with him, but to the
+Lodgings her Mother had taken for her, when she first came to Town, and
+which still she kept. Your Mother, Madam, (cry’d&nbsp;he) why, is Sir
+<i>Philip’s</i> Sister living then? His Brother’s Widow is, Sir, (she
+reply’d.) Is she there? (he&nbsp;ask’d.) No, Sir, (she return’d;) she is
+in the Country. Oh, then we will go thither to chuse. The Coach-man was
+then order’d to drive to <a class = "comm" name = "bantam_commtag10" id
+= "bantam_commtag10" href = "#bantam_comm10"><i>Jermain-Street</i></a>;
+where, when he came in to the Lodgings, he found ’em very rich and
+modishly furnish’d. He presently call’d one of his Slaves, and whisper’d
+him to get three or four pretty Dishes for Supper; and then getting a
+Pen, Ink and Paper, writ a Note to <i>C<span class =
+"dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span>d</i> the Goldsmith with <i>Temple-Bar</i>,
+for five hundred guineas; which <i>Watchful</i> brought him, in less
+than an Hour’s time, when they were just in the Height of Supper;
+<i>Lucy</i> having invited her Landlady, for the better Colour of the
+Matter. His <i>Bantamite</i> Majesty took the Gold from his Slave, and
+threw it by him in the Window, that <i>Lucy</i> might take Notice of it;
+(which you may assure yourself she did, and after Supper wink’d on the
+goodly Matron of the House to retire, which she immediately obey’d.)
+Then his Majesty began his Court very earnestly and hotly, throwing the
+naked Guineas into her Lap: which she seemed to refuse with much
+Disdain; but upon his repeated Promises, confirm’d by unheard of Oaths
+and Imprecations, that he would give her Sister three thousand Guineas
+to her Portion, she began by Degrees to mollify, and let the Gold lie
+quietly in her Lap: And the next Night, after he had drawn Notes on two
+or three of his Bankers, for the Payment of three thousand Guineas to
+Sir <i>Philip</i>, or Order, and received his own Bond, made for what he
+had lost at Play, from <i>Friendly</i>, she made no great Difficulty to
+admit his Majesty to her Bed. Where I think fit to leave ’em
+<span class = "pagenum">32</span>
+for the present; for (perhaps) they had some private Business.</p>
+
+<p>The next Morning before the Titular King was (I won’t say up, or
+stirring, but) out of Bed, young <i>Goodland</i> and <i>Philibella</i>
+were privately marry’d; the Bills being all accepted and paid in two
+Days Time. As soon as ever the fantastick Monarch could find in his
+Heart to divorce himself from the dear and charming Embraces of his
+beautiful Bedfellow, he came flying to Sir <i>Philip</i>, with all the
+Haste that Imagination big with Pleasure could inspire him with, to
+discharge it self to a suppos’d Friend. The Knight told him, that he was
+really much troubled to find that his Niece had yielded so soon and
+easily to him; however, he wish’d him Joy: To which the other return’d,
+that he could never want it, whilst he had the Command of so much
+Beauty, and that without the ungrateful Obligations of Matrimony, which
+certainly are the most nauseous, hateful, pernicious and destructive of
+Love imaginable. Think you so, Sir? (ask’d the Knight;) we shall hear
+what a Friend of mine will say on such an Occasion, to-morrow about this
+Time: but I beseech your Majesty to conceal your Sentiments of it to
+him, lest you make him as uneasy as you seem to be in that Circumstance.
+Be assur’d I will, (return’d the other:) But when shall I see the sweet,
+the dear, the blooming, the charming <i>Philibella</i>? She will be with
+us at Dinner. Where’s her Majesty? (ask’d Sir <i>Philip</i>) Had you
+enquir’d before, she had been here; for, look, she comes!
+<i>Friendly</i> seems to regard her with a Kind of Displeasure, and
+whisper’d Majesty, that he should express no particular Symptoms of
+Familiarity with <i>Lucy</i> in his House, at any Time, especially when
+<i>Goodland</i> was there, as then he was above with his Lady and
+<i>Philibella</i>, who came down presently after to Dinner.</p>
+
+<p>About Four o’Clock, as his Majesty had intrigu’d with her,
+<i>Lucy</i> took a Hackney-Coach, and went to her
+<span class = "pagenum">33</span>
+Lodgings; whither about an Hour after, he follow’d her, Next Morning, at
+nine, he came to <i>Friendly’s</i>, who carry’d him up to see his
+new-married Friends&mdash;But (O&nbsp;Damnation to Thoughts!) what
+Torments did he feel, when he saw young <i>Goodland</i> and
+<i>Philibella</i> in bed together; the last of which return’d him humble
+and hearty Thanks for her Portion and Husband, as the first did for his
+Wife. He shook his Head at Sir <i>Philip</i>, and without speaking one
+Word, left ’em, and hurry’d to <i>Lucy</i>, to lament the ill Treatment
+he had met with from <i>Friendly</i>. They coo’d and bill’d as long as
+he was able; she (sweet Hypocrite) seeming to bemoan his Misfortunes;
+which he took so kindly, that when he left her, which was about three in
+the Afternoon, he caus’d a Scrivener to draw up an Instrument, wherein
+he settled a hundred Pounds a Year on <i>Lucy</i> for her Life, and gave
+her a hundred Guineas more against her Lying-in: (For she told him, and
+indeed ’twas true, that she was with child, and knew her self to be so
+from a very good Reason&mdash;) And indeed she was so&mdash;by the
+<i>Friendly</i> Knight. When he return’d to her, he threw the obliging
+Instrument into her Lap; (it&nbsp;seems he had a particular Kindness for
+that Place&mdash;) then call’d for Wine, and something to eat; for he
+had not drank a Pint to his Share all the Day, (tho’ he had ply’d it at
+the Chocolate-House.&mdash;) The Landlady, who was invited to sup with
+’em, bid ’em good-night, about eleven; when they went to bed, and partly
+slept till about six; when they were entertain’d by some Gentleman of
+their Acquaintance, who play’d and sung very finely, by way of
+<i>Epithalamium</i>, these Words and more:</p>
+
+<div class = "verse ital">
+<p>Joy to great <em>Bantam!</em></p>
+<p>Live long, love and wanton!</p>
+<p>And thy Royal Consort!</p>
+<p>For both are of one Sort, <em>&amp;c.</em></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The rest I have forgot. He took some Offence at the
+<span class = "pagenum">34</span>
+Words; but more at the Visit that Sir <i>Philip</i>, and
+<i>Goodland</i>, made him, about an Hour after, who found him in Bed
+with his Royal Consort; and <a class = "comm" name = "bantam_commtag11"
+id = "bantam_commtag11" href = "#bantam_comm11">after having wish’d ’em
+Joy, and thrown their Majesties own Shoes and Stockings</a> at their
+Head, retir’d. This gave Monarch in Fancy so great a Caution that he
+took his Royal Consort into the Country, (but above forty Miles off the
+Place where his own Lady was) where, in less than eight Months, she was
+deliver’d of a Princely Babe, who was Christen’d by the Heathenish Name
+of <i>Hayoumorecake Bantam</i>, while her Majesty lay in like a pretty
+Queen.</p>
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<h5><a name = "bantam_notes" id = "bantam_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The King of Bantam.</h5>
+
+<p class = "mynote">
+The header for the “King of Bantam” notes is misprinted, placed
+between the two notes for p.&nbsp;30 instead of between pgs. 9 and 17.
+The story begins on p.&nbsp;11.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm1" id = "bantam_comm1" href =
+"#bantam_commtag1">p. 17</a>
+<i>last new Plays, being then in the Year 1683</i>. The new plays acted
+at the Theatre Royal in 1682 were: Southerne’s <i>The Loyal Brother; or,
+The Persian Prince</i>; Tate’s <i>Ingratitude of a Commonwealth; or, The
+Fall of Caius Marius Coriolanus</i>; Settle’s <i>The Heir of Morocco,
+with the Death of Gayland</i>; Banks’ <i>The Unhappy Favourite; or, the
+Earl of Essex</i>; D’Urfey’s <i>The Injur’d Princess; or, The Fatal
+Wager</i>. There were also an unusual number of revivals of the older
+plays at this house. At Dorset Garden the following were produced:
+Otway’s <i>Venice Preserved; or, A&nbsp;Plot Discovered</i>; Mrs. Behn’s
+<i>The City Heiress; or, Sir Timothy Treatall</i>; D’Urfey’s <i>The
+Royalist</i>; Mrs. Behn’s <i>The False Count; or, A&nbsp;New Way to Play
+an Old Game</i>; Banks’ <i>Virtue Betray’d; or, Anna Bullen</i>; Mrs.
+Behn’s <i>The Roundheads; or, The Good Old Cause</i>; Ravenscroft’s
+<i>The London Cuckolds</i>; and <i>Romulus and Hersilia; or, The Sabine
+War</i>, an anonymous tragedy. There were also notable revivals of
+Randolph’s <i>The Jealous Lovers</i>, and Fletcher’s <i>The Maid in the
+Mill</i>. The two Companies amalgamated in the autumn, opening at the
+Theatre Royal, 16 November, for which occasion a special Prologue and
+Epilogue were written by Dryden. 4&nbsp;December, Dryden and Lee’s
+famous
+<span class = "pagenum">516</span>
+tragedy, <i>The Duke of Guise</i>, had a triumphant first night. It will
+be remembered that Mrs. Behn is writing of incidents which took place on
+6 January, 1683, Twelfth Night, so ‘the last new plays’ must refer to
+the productions of 1682. Of course, fresh songs, and probably musical
+entertainments, would be inserted at the different revivals of the older
+plays which were so frequent during that year.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm2" id = "bantam_comm2" href =
+"#bantam_commtag2">p. 20</a>
+<i>Statira, . . . Roxana.</i> In allusion to the two rival princesses
+for Alexander’s love as they appear in Nat Lee’s famous tragedy, <i>The
+Rival Queens; or, Alexander the Great</i>, produced at Drury Lane, 1677.
+It held the stage over a century and a half, longest of his plays, and
+is indeed an excellent piece. Originally, Hart played Alexander; Mrs.
+Marshall, the glowing Roxana; and Mrs. Boutell, Statira. Genest
+chronicles a performance at Drury Lane, 23 June, 1823, with Kean as
+Alexander; Mrs. W.&nbsp;West, Statira; Mrs. Glover, Roxana.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm3" id = "bantam_comm3" href =
+"#bantam_commtag3">p. 24</a>
+<i>forty the Lurch</i>. ‘Lurch’ is a very common old term (now rare)
+‘used in various games to denote a certain concluding state of the game
+in which one player is enormously ahead of the other; often a “maiden
+set” or love-game’&mdash;<i>N.E.D.</i> cf. Urquhart’s <i>Rabelais</i>
+(1653), II, xii: ‘By two of my table-men in the corner point I have
+gained the lurch.’ Gouldman’s <i>Latin Dictionary</i> (1674), gives:
+‘A&nbsp;lurch; <i>duplex palma, facilis victoria</i>.’</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm4" id = "bantam_comm4" href =
+"#bantam_commtag4">p. 26</a>
+<i>to Locket’s, where they din’d</i>. This fashionable Ordinary stood on
+the site of Drummond’s Bank, Charing Cross. It was named from Adam
+Locket, the landlord, who died in 1688. In 1702, however, we find an
+Edward Locket, probably a son, as proprietor. The reputation of the
+house was on the wane during the latter years of Anne, and in the reign
+of George I its vogue entirely ceased. There are very frequent
+references. In <i>The Country Wife</i> (1675), Horner tells Pinchwife:
+‘Thou art as shy of my kindness as a Lombard-street alderman of a
+courtier’s civility at Locket’s’ (iv,&nbsp;<span class =
+"smallroman">III</span>). In Shadwell’s <i>The Scowerers</i> (1691), old
+Tope, replying to a health, cries: ‘I’ll answer you in a couple of
+Brimmers of Claret at Locket’s at Dinner’ (i,&nbsp;<span class =
+"smallroman">I</span>). In Vanbrugh’s <i>The Relapse</i> (1696), Lord
+Foppington, when asked if he dines at home, surmises: ‘’tis passible I
+may dine with some of aur House at Lacket’s,’ which shows that it was
+then the very rendezvous of fashion and quality.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm5" id = "bantam_comm5" href =
+"#bantam_commtag5">p. 27</a>
+<i>A King and no King.</i> Langbaine testifies to the popularity of
+Beaumont and Fletcher’s play both before and after the Restoration.
+Pepys saw it 14 March, 1661, and again, 26 September the same year. The
+1676 quarto ‘as it is now acted at the Theatre Royal by his Majestie’s
+Servants’ gives a full cast with Hart as Arbaces; Kynaston, Tigranes;
+Mohun, Mardonius; Lacy, Bessus; Mrs. Betty Cox, Panthea; Mrs. Marshall,
+Spaconia. In the earlier production Nell Gwynne had acted Panthea. The
+two Companies amalgamated in 1682, opening 16 November. Hart ‘never
+Acted more’ after this date. Mrs. Marshall had retired in 1677; and in
+1683 Betterton was playing Arbaces with quite a new allotment of the
+other rôles.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm6" id = "bantam_comm6" href =
+"#bantam_commtag6">p. 27</a>
+<i>The Rose.</i> There are repeated references to this celebrated tavern
+which stood in Russell Street, Covent Garden. <i>vide</i> <i>The Younger
+<span class = "pagenum">517</span>
+Brother</i>, i,&nbsp;<span class = "smallroman">II</span> (Vol.&nbsp;IV),
+Motteux’ Song: ‘Thence to the Rose where he takes his three Flasks,’ and
+the note on that passage.
+<a class = "crossref" href = "#bantam_crossref6">
+Cross-Reference: <i>The Younger Brother</i>.</a></p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm7" id = "bantam_comm7" href =
+"#bantam_commtag7">p. 29</a>
+<i>The London-Cuckolds.</i> Ravenscroft’s rollicking comedy, which had
+been produced with great success at the Duke’s House in 1682 (4to,
+1682), long kept the boards with undiminished favour, being very
+frequently given each season. Genest has the following true and
+pertinent remark: ‘If it be the province of Comedy not to retail
+morality to a yawning pit but to make the audience laugh and to keep
+them in good humour this play must be allowed to be one of the best
+Comedies in the English language.’ 29 October (the old Lord Mayor’s
+Day), 1751, Garrick substituted <i>Eastward Hoe</i> at Drury Lane for
+the annual performance of <i>The London Cuckolds</i>, a&nbsp;change not
+approved by the audience, who promptly damned their new fare.
+Ravenscroft’s comedy was given that evening at Covent Garden, and on 9
+November, the following year. It was also performed there in 1753.
+9&nbsp;November, 1754, George II ordered <i>The Provoked Husband</i>. It
+has often been stated (e.g. by Professor A.&nbsp;W.
+Ward&mdash;‘Ravenscroft’&mdash;<i>Dictionary of National Biography</i>)
+that this royal command gave <i>The London Cuckolds</i> its final
+<i>congé</i>, but such was neither the intent nor the case. The play is
+billed at Covent Garden, 10 November, 1755; in 1757; and 9 November,
+1758. Shuter excelled as Dashwell. A&nbsp;two act version was played at
+Covent Garden, 10 April, 1782, and repeated on the 12th. This was for
+the benefit of Quick, who acted Doodle.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm8" id = "bantam_comm8" href =
+"#bantam_commtag8">p. 30</a>
+<i>Your Honour . . . must be set down at Long’s.</i> Long’s was a famous
+Ordinary in the Haymarket. It was here that in 1678 Lord Pembroke killed
+Mr. Coney with his fist. He was tried by his Peers and acquitted. There
+was at the same period a second tavern in Covent Garden kept by Ben
+Long, Long’s brother. In Dryden’s <i>Mr. Limberham</i> (1678), Brainsick
+cries: ‘I&nbsp;have won a wager to be spent luxuriously at Long’s.’ In
+Etheredge’s <i>The Man of Mode</i> (1676), the following conversation
+occurs:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class = "verse">
+<p><i>Bellair.</i> Where do you dine?</p>
+<p><i>Dorimant.</i> At Long’s or Locket’s.</p>
+<p><i>Medley.</i> At Long’s let it be.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm9" id = "bantam_comm9" href =
+"#bantam_commtag9">p. 30</a>
+<i>the King’s Box</i>. The seats in the boxes of the Restoration Theatre
+were let out severally to separate persons, and although the King had,
+of course, his own private box when he saw a play, yet when he was not
+present even the royal box was apportioned to individuals as the rest.
+There are many allusions to this which prove, moreover, that the front
+row of the King’s box was the most conspicuous and highly coveted
+position in the house. In Etheredge’s <i>The Man of Mode</i> (1676),
+Dorimant, hearing of a young gentlewoman lately come to town and being
+taken with his own handsome face, wagers that she must be ‘some awkward,
+ill-fashioned, country toad, who, not having above four dozen of black
+hairs on her head, has adorned her baldness with a large white fruz,
+that she may look sparkishly in the forefront of the
+<span class = "pagenum">518</span>
+King’s box at an old play.’ In Tom Brown’s <i>Letters from the Dead to
+the Living</i><a class = "tag" name = "tag_bantam_1" id = "tag_bantam_1"
+href = "#note_bantam_1">1</a> we have one from Julian, ‘late Secretary
+to the Muses,’ to Will. Pierre of Lincoln’s Inn Fields Playhouse,
+wherein, recalling how in his lampoons whilst he lived characters about
+town were shown in no very enviable light, he particularizes that ‘the
+antiquated Coquet was told of her age and ugliness, tho’ her vanity
+plac’d her in the first row in the King’s box at the playhouse.’</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm10" id = "bantam_comm10" href =
+"#bantam_commtag10">p. 31</a>
+<i>Jermain-Street.</i> Jermyn Street runs parallel with Piccadilly from
+the Haymarket to St. James. It was built <i>circa</i> 1667, and derives
+its name from Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans. Shadwell spells it
+Germin Street, and it was in a house here that old Snarl was wont to
+receive amorous castigation at the hands of Mrs. Figgup.&mdash;<i>The
+Virtuoso</i> (1676), iii,&nbsp;<span class = "smallroman">II</span>. It
+was a fashionable quarter. From 1675 to 1681 the Duke of Marlborough,
+then Colonel Churchill, lived here. La Belle Stuart, Duchess of Richmond,
+had a house near Eagle Passage, 1681-3, and was succeeded therein by the
+Countess of Northumberland. Next door dwelt Henry Saville, Rochester’s
+friend, 1681-3. Three doors from the Duchess again was living in 1683
+Simon Verelest, the painter. In 1684 Sir William Soames followed him. In
+after years also there have been a large number of famous residents
+connected with this favourite street.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "bantam_comm11" id = "bantam_comm11" href =
+"#bantam_commtag11">p. 34</a>
+<i>after having . . . thrown their Majesties own Shoes and
+Stockings</i>. For this old bridal custom see <i>ante</i>, Vol. III
+(p.&nbsp;223), <i>The Lucky Chance</i>, ii,&nbsp;<span class =
+"smallroman">II</span>: ‘we’ll toss the Stocking’; and the note on that
+passage.
+<a class = "crossref" href = "#bantam_crossref11">
+Cross-Reference: <i>The Lucky Chance</i>.</a></p>
+
+<p class = "footnote">
+<a class = "tag" name = "note_bantam_1" id = "note_bantam_1" href =
+"#tag_bantam_1">1</a>
+This actual letter was written by Boyer, together with the reply which
+is dated 5 November, 1701. Julian was a well-known journalistic
+scribbler and ribald ballader of the time. William Peer [Pierre],
+a&nbsp;young actor of little account, is only cast for such walk-on
+rôles as Jasper, a&nbsp;valet, in Shadwell’s <i>The Scowerers</i>
+(1691); the Parson in D’Urfey’s <i>Love for Money</i> (1696).</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "crossref">
+<h5><a name = "bantam_crossref" id = "bantam_crossref">
+Cross-References</a></h5>
+
+<p><a name = "bantam_crossref6" id = "bantam_crossref6" href =
+"#bantam_comm6">Note to p. 27</a>:
+<i>vide</i> <i>The Younger Brother</i>, i, <span class =
+"smallroman">II</span> (Vol.&nbsp;IV), Motteux’ Song: ‘Thence to the
+Rose where he takes his three Flasks,’ and the note on that passage.</p>
+
+<p><i>Younger Brother</i> text:</p>
+
+<div class = "verse">
+<p>Then jogs to the <i>Play-house</i>, and chats with the Masks,</p>
+<p>And thence to the <i>Rose</i>, where he takes his three Flasks.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Younger Brother</i> note:</p>
+
+<p class = "inset">
+<i>the Rose</i>. This celebrated house stood in Russell Street, Covent
+Garden, and adjoined Drury Lane. There are innumerable references to it.
+The greater portion of the ‘Rose’ was demolished in 1776, when a new
+front was being built to the theatre.</p>
+
+<p><a name = "bantam_crossref11" id = "bantam_crossref11" href =
+"#bantam_comm11">Note to p. 34</a>:
+For this old bridal custom see <i>ante</i>, Vol. III (p.&nbsp;223),
+<i>The Lucky Chance</i>, ii,&nbsp;<span class = "smallroman">II</span>:
+‘we’ll toss the Stocking’; and the note on that passage.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lucky Chance</i> text:</p>
+
+<p class = "inset">
+Come, Gentlemen, one Bottle, and then&mdash;we’ll toss the Stocking.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lucky Chance</i> note:</p>
+
+<p class = "inset">
+<i>we’ll toss the Stocking</i>. This merry old matrimonial custom in use
+at the bedding of the happy pair is often alluded to. cf. Pepys,
+8&nbsp;February, 1663: ‘Another story was how Lady Castlemaine,
+a&nbsp;few days since, had Mrs. Stewart to an entertainment, and at
+night begun a frolique that they two must be married; and married they
+were, with ring and all other ceremonies of church service, and
+ribbands, and a sack posset in bed and flinging the stocking; but in the
+close it is said my Lady Castlemaine, who was the bridegroom, rose, and
+the King come and take her place.’</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">35</span>
+<a name = "happy_lady" id = "happy_lady">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE<br>
+UNFORTUNATE HAPPY LADY:<br>
+A TRUE HISTORY.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">37</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "happy_main" id = "happy_main">THE<br>
+<i>UNFORTUNATE HAPPY LADY</i>:</a><br>
+A True History.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">I cannot</span> omit giving the World an
+account, of the uncommon Villany of a Gentleman of a good Family in
+<i>England</i> practis’d upon his Sister, which was attested to me by
+one who liv’d in the Family, and from whom I had the whole Truth of the
+Story. I&nbsp;shall conceal the unhappy Gentleman’s own, under the
+borrow’d Names of Sir <i>William Wilding</i>, who succeeded his Father
+Sir <i>Edward</i>, in an Estate of near 4000<i>l.</i> a Year, inheriting
+all that belong’d to him, except his Virtues. ’Tis true, he was oblig’d
+to pay his only Sister a Portion of 6000<i>l.</i> which he might very
+easily have done out of his Patrimony in a little Time, the Estate being
+not in the least incumbred. But the Death of his good Father gave a
+loose to the Extravagancy of his Inclinations, which till then was
+hardly observable. The first Discovery he made of his Humour, was in the
+extraordinary rich Equipage he prepar’d for his Journey to
+<i>London</i>, which was much greater than his fair and plentiful
+Fortune cou’d maintain, nor were his Expences any way inferior to the
+Figure he made here in Town; insomuch, that in less than a Twelve-Month,
+he was forc’d to return to his Seat in the Country, to Mortgage a part
+of his Estate of a Thousand Pounds a Year, to satisfy the Debts he had
+already contracted in his profuse Treats, Gaming and Women, which in a
+few Weeks he effected, to the great Affliction of his Sister
+<i>Philadelphia</i>, a&nbsp;young Lady of excellent Beauty, Education,
+and Virtue; who, fore-seeing the utter Ruin of the Estate,
+<span class = "pagenum">38</span>
+if not timely prevented, daily begg’d of him, with Prayers and Tears,
+that might have mov’d a <i>Scythian</i> or wild <i>Arab</i>, or indeed
+any thing but him, to pay her her Portion. To which, however, he
+seemingly consented, and promis’d to take her to Town with him, and
+there give her all the Satisfaction she cou’d expect: And having dipp’d
+some paltry Acres of Land, deeper than ever Heaven dipp’d ’em in Rain,
+he was as good as his Word, and brought her to Town with him, where he
+told her he would place her with an ancient Lady, with whom he had
+contracted a Friendship at his first coming to <i>London</i>; adding,
+that she was a Lady of incomparable Morals, and of a matchless Life and
+Conversation. <i>Philadelphia</i> took him in the best Sense, and was
+very desirous to be planted in the same House with her, hoping she might
+grow to as great a Perfection in such excellent Qualifications, as she
+imagined ’em. About four Days therefore after they had been in Town, she
+sollicits her Brother to wait on that Lady with her: He reply’d, that it
+is absolutely Necessary and Convenient that I should first acquaint her
+with my Design, and beg that she will be pleas’d to take you into her
+Care, and this shall be my chief Business to Day: Accordingly, that very
+Hour he went to the Lady <i>Beldams</i>, his reverend and honourable
+Acquaintance, whom he prepar’d for the Reception of his Sister, who he
+told her was a Cast-Mistress of his, and desir’d her Assistance to
+prevent the Trouble and Charge, which she knew such Cattle would bring
+upon young Gentlemen of plentiful Estates. To morrow Morning about
+Eleven, I’ll leave her with your Ladyship, who, I&nbsp;doubt not, will
+give her a wholesome Lesson or two before Night, and your Reward is
+certain. My Son, (return’d she) I&nbsp;know the Greatness of your
+Spirit, the Heat of your Temper has both warm’d and inflam’d me!
+I&nbsp;joy to see you in Town again&mdash;Ah! That I could but recal one
+twenty Years for your Sake!&mdash;Well&mdash;no
+matter.&mdash;I&nbsp;won’t forget your Instructions, nor my Duty to
+<span class = "pagenum">39</span>
+Morrow: In the mean time, I’ll drink your Health in a Bottle of
+<i>Sherry</i> or two, O! Cry your Mercy, good my Lady <i>Beldam</i>,
+(said the young Debauchee) I&nbsp;had like to have forfeited my Title to
+your Care, in not remembring to leave you an Obligation. There are three
+Guinea’s, which, I&nbsp;hope, will plead for me till to
+Morrow.&mdash;So&mdash;Your Ladyship’s Servant humbly kisses your Hand.
+Your Honours most Obedient Servant, most gratefully Acknowledges your
+Favours.&mdash;Your humble Servant, Good Sir <i>William</i>, added she,
+seeing him leave her in haste.</p>
+
+<p>Never were three Persons better pleas’d for a Time than this
+unnatural Man, his sweet innocent Sister, and the Lady <i>Beldam</i>;
+upon his return to <i>Philadelphia</i>, who could not rest that Night,
+for thinking on the Happiness she was going to enjoy in the Conversation
+of so virtuous a Lady as her Brother’s Acquaintance, to whom she was in
+Hopes that she might discover her dearest Thoughts, and complain of Sir
+<i>William’s</i> Extravagance and Unkindness, without running the
+Hazzard of being betray’d; and at the same Time, reasonably expect from
+so pious a Lady all the Assistance within her Capacity. On the other
+side, her Brother hugg’d himself in the Prospect he had of getting rid
+of his own Sister, and the Payment of 6000<i>l.</i> for the Sum of forty
+or fifty Guineas, by the Help and Discretion of this sage Matron; who,
+for her part, by this Time, had reckon’d up, and promis’d to herself an
+Advantage of at least three hundred Pounds, one way or other by this
+bargain.</p>
+
+<p>About Ten the next Morning, Sir <i>William</i> took Coach with his
+Sister, for the old Lady’s Enchanted Castle, taking only one Trunk of
+hers with them for the present, promising her to send her other Things
+to her the next Day. The young Lady was very joyfully and respectfully
+received by her Brother’s venerable Acquaintance, who was mightily
+charm’d with her Youth and Beauty. A&nbsp;Bottle of the Best was then
+strait brought in, and not long
+<span class = "pagenum">40</span>
+after a very splendid Entertainment for Breakfast: The Furniture was all
+very modish and rich, and the Attendance was suitable. Nor was the Lady
+<i>Beldam’s</i> Conversation less obliging and modest, than Sir
+<i>William’s</i> Discourse had given <i>Philadelphia</i> occasion to
+expect. After they had eaten and drank what they thought Convenient, the
+reverend old Lady led ’em out of the Parlour to shew ’em the House,
+every Room of which they found answerably furnish’d to that whence they
+came. At last she led ’em into a very pleasant Chamber, richly hung, and
+curiously adorn’d with the Pictures of several beautiful young Ladies,
+wherein there was a Bed which might have been worthy the Reception of a
+Dutchess: This, Madam, (said she) is your Apartment, with the
+Anti-chamber, and little Withdrawing-Room. Alas, Madam! (returned the
+dear innocent unthinking Lady) you set too great a Value on your
+Servant; but I rather think your Ladyship designs me this Honour for the
+sake of Sir <i>William</i>, who has had the Happiness of your
+Acquaintance for some Months: Something for Sir <i>William</i>,
+(returned the venerable Lady <i>Beldam</i>) but much more for your
+Ladyship’s own, as you will have Occasion to find hereafter.
+I&nbsp;shall Study to deserve your Favours and Friendship, Madam,
+reply’d <i>Philadelphia</i>: I hope you will, Madam, said the barbarous
+Man. But my Business now calls me hence; to Morrow at Dinner I will
+return to you, and Order the rest of your Things to be brought with me.
+In the mean while (pursu’d the Traytor, kissing his Sister, as he
+thought and hop’d the last time) be as chearful as you can, my Dear! and
+expect all you can wish from me. A&nbsp;thousand Thanks, my dearest
+Brother, return’d she, with Tears in her Eyes: And Madam, (said he to
+his old mischievous Confederate, giving her a very rich Purse which held
+50 Guineas) be pleas’d to accept this Trifle, as an humble
+Acknowledgment of the great Favour you do this Lady, and the Care of
+her, which you promise; and I’m sure she cannot want.
+<span class = "pagenum">41</span>
+&mdash;So, once more, (added&nbsp;he) my Dear! and, Madam! I&nbsp;am
+your humble Servant <i>Jusqu’ a&nbsp;Revoir</i>, and went out bowing.
+Heavens bless my dear Brother! (cry’d <i>Philadelphia</i>) your Honour’s
+most Faithful and obedient Servant, said the venerable
+<i>Beldam</i>.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner was the treacherous Brother gone, than the old Lady taking
+<i>Philadelphia</i> by the Hand, led her into the Parlour; where she
+began to her to this Effect: <i>If I mistake not, Madam, you were
+pleas’d to call Sir <em>William</em> Brother once or twice of late in
+Conversation: Pray be pleas’d to satisfy my Curiosity so far as to
+inform me in the Truth of this Matter? Is it really so or not?</i>
+<i>Philadelphia</i> reply’d, blushing, your Ladyship strangely surprizes
+me with this Question: For, I&nbsp;thought it had been past your Doubt
+that it is so. Did not he let you know so much himself? I&nbsp;humbly
+beg your Pardon, Madam, (returned the true Offspring of old Mother
+<i>Eve</i>) that I have so visibly disturb’d you by my Curiosity: But,
+indeed, Madam, Sir <i>William</i> did not say your Ladyship was his
+Sister, when he gave me the Charge of you, as of the nearest and dearest
+Friend he had in the World. Now our Father and Mother are dead, (said
+the sweet Innocent) who never had more Children than us two, who can be
+a nearer or dearer Friend unto me, than my Brother Sir <i>William</i>,
+or than I his Sister to him? None? Certainly, you’ll excuse me, Madam,
+(answer’d t’other) a&nbsp;Wife or Mistress may. A&nbsp;Wife indeed,
+(return’d the beautiful Innocent) has the Pre-eminence, and perhaps,
+a&nbsp;Mistress too, if honourably lov’d and sought for in Marriage:
+But, (she continu’d) I&nbsp;can assure your Ladyship that he has not a
+Wife, nor did I ever hear he had a Mistress yet. Love in Youth (said old
+Venerable) is very fearful of Discovery. I&nbsp;have known, Madam,
+a&nbsp;great many fine young Gentlemen and Ladies, who have conceal’d
+their violent Passions and greater Affection, under the Notion and
+Appellation of Brother and Sister. And your Ladyship imagines, Sir
+<i>William</i>
+<span class = "pagenum">42</span>
+and I do so? reply’d <i>Philadelphia</i>, by way of Question. ’Twere no
+imprudence, if you did, Madam, return’d old Lady <i>Beldam</i>, with all
+the Subtlety she had learn’d from the Serpent. Alas! Madam, (reply’d
+she) there is nothing like Secrecy in Love: ’Tis the very Life and Soul
+of it! I&nbsp;have been young myself, and have known it by Experience.
+But, all this, Madam, (interrupted <i>Philadelphia</i>, something
+nettl’d at her Discourse) all this can’t convince me, that I am not the
+true and only Sister both by Father and Mother of Sir <i>William
+Wilding</i>; however, he wou’d impose upon your Ladyship, for what Ends,
+indeed, I&nbsp;know not, unless (unhappily, which Heaven forbid!) he
+designs to gain your <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘Ladship’s’">Ladyship’s</ins> Assistance in defeating me of the Portion
+left me by my Father: But, (she continued with Tears) I&nbsp;have too
+great an Assurance of your Virtue, to Fear that you will consent to so
+wicked a Practise. You may be confident, Madam, (said t’other)
+I&nbsp;never will. And, supposing that he were capable of perpetrating
+so base an Act of himself, yet if your Ladyship will be guided and
+directed by me, I&nbsp;will shew you the Means of living Happy and
+Great, without your Portion, or your Brother’s Help; so much I am
+charm’d with your Beauty and Innocence.</p>
+
+<p>But, pray, Madam, (pursu’d she) what is your Portion? And what makes
+you doubt your Brother’s Kindness? <i>Philadelphia</i> then told her,
+how much her Brother was to pay her, and gave her an Account of his
+Extravagancies, as far as she knew ’em; to which t’other was no
+Stranger; and (doubtless) cou’d have put a Period to her Sorrows with
+her Life, had she given her as perfect a Relation of his riotous and
+vicious Practices, as she was capable of: But she had farther Business
+with her Life, and, in short, bid her be of good Comfort, and lay all
+her Care on her, and then she cou’d not miss of continual Happiness. The
+sweet Lady took all her Promises for sterling, and kissing her Impious
+Hand, humbly return’d her Thanks. Not
+<span class = "pagenum">43</span>
+long after they went to Dinner; and in the Afternoon, three or four
+young Ladies came to visit the Right Reverend the Lady <i>Beldam</i>;
+who told her new Guest, that these were all her Relations, and no less
+than her own Sister’s Children. The Discourse among ’em was general and
+very modest, which lasted for some Hours: For, our Sex seldom wants
+matter of Tattle. But, whether their Tongues were then miraculously
+wearied, or that they were tir’d with one continued Scene of Place,
+I&nbsp;won’t pretend to determine: But they left the Parlour for the
+Garden, where after about half an Hour’s Walk, there was a very fine
+Desert of Sweetmeats and Fruits brought into one of the Arbours.
+<i>Cherbetts</i>, <a class = "comm" name = "happy_commtag1" id =
+"happy_commtag1" href = "#happy_comm1"><i>Ros Solis</i></a>, rich and
+small Wines, with Tea, Chocolate, <i>&amp;c.</i> compleated the old
+Lady’s Treat; the Pleasure of which was much heighten’d by the Voices of
+two of her Ladyship’s Sham-Nieces, who sung very charmingly. The Dear,
+sweet Creature, thought she had happily got into the Company of Angels:
+But (alas!) they were Angels that had fallen more than once. She heard
+talk of Nunneries, and having never been out of her own Country till
+within four or five Days, she had certainly concluded she had been in
+one of those Religious-Houses now, had she but heard a Bell ring, and
+seen ’em kneel to Prayers, and make use of their Beads, as she had been
+told those happy people do. However it was, she was extremely pleas’d
+with the Place and Company. So nearly do’s Hell counterfeit Heaven
+sometimes. At last, said one of the white Devils, wou’d my dear
+<i>Tommy</i> were here! O&nbsp;Sister! (cry’d another) you won’t be long
+without your wish: For my Husband and he went out together, and both
+promis’d to be here after the Play. Is my Brother Sir <i>Francis</i>
+with him there? (ask’d the first) yes, (answer’d the third) Sir
+<i>Thomas</i> and Sir <i>Francis</i> took Coach from St. <i>James’s</i>,
+about two Hours since: We shall be excellent Company when they come,
+(said a fourth); I&nbsp;hope they’ll bring the Fiddlers with ’em, added
+the first: Don’t you love
+<span class = "pagenum">44</span>
+Musick, Madam? (ask’d the old Lady <i>Beldam</i>) Sometimes, Madam,
+(reply’d <i>Philadelphia</i>) but now I am out o’tune myself.
+A&nbsp;little harmless Mirth will chear your drooping Spirits, my dear,
+(return’d t’other, taking her by the Hand) come! These are all my
+Relations, as I told you, Madam; and so consequently are their Husbands.
+Are these Ladies all marry’d, Madam? <i>Philadelphia</i> ask’d. All,
+all, my dear Soul! (reply’d the insinuating Mother of Iniquity;) and
+thou shalt have a Husband too, e’re long. Alas, Madam! (return’d the
+fair Innocent) I&nbsp;have no Merit, nor Money: Besides, I&nbsp;never
+yet could Love so well as to make Choice of one Man before another.</p>
+
+<p>How long have you liv’d then, Madam? (ask’d the Lady <i>Beldam</i>)
+too long by almost sixteen Years, (reply’d <i>Philadelphia</i>) had
+Heaven seen good. This Conversation lasted till Word was brought that
+Sir <i>Francis</i> and Sir <i>Thomas</i>, with Two other Gentlemen were
+just lighted at the Gate: Which so discompos’d the fair Innocent, that
+trembling, she begg’d leave to retire to her Chamber. To which, after
+some Perswasion to the contrary, the venerable <i>Beldam</i> waited on
+her. For, these were none of the Sparks to whom <i>Philadelphia</i> was
+design’d to be Sacrific’d. In her Retirement, the Beautiful dear
+Creature had the Satisfaction of venting her Grief in Tears, and
+addressing herself to Heaven, on which only she trusted,
+notwith&shy;standing all the fair Promises of her reverend Hostess; she
+had not been retir’d above an Hour, e’re a She-attendant waited on her,
+to know if she wanted any thing, and what she wou’d please to have for
+her Supper; if she wou’d not give her Lady the Honour of her Company
+below? To which she return’d, that she wou’d not Sup, and that she
+wanted nothing but Rest, which she wou’d presently seek in Bed. This
+Answer brought up the Officious old Lady herself; who, by all Means
+wou’d needs see her undress’d, for other Reasons more than a bare
+Compliment; which she perform’d with a great deal of Ceremony, and a
+<span class = "pagenum">45</span>
+Diligence that seem’d more than double. For she had then the Opportunity
+of observing the Delicacy of her Skin, the fine turn of her Limbs, and
+the richness of her Night-dress, part of the Furniture of her Trunk. As
+soon as she had cover’d herself, she kiss’d and wish’d her a good
+Repose. The dear Soul, as Innocent and White as her Linen, return’d her
+Thanks, and address’d herself to Sleep; out of which she was waken’d by
+a loud Consort of Musick, in less than two Hours time, which continu’d
+till long after Midnight. This occasion’d strange and doubtful Thoughts
+in her, tho’ she was altogether so unskill’d in these Mysteries, that
+she cou’d not guess the right Meaning. She apprehended, that (possibly)
+her Brother had a Mistress, from the Lady <i>Beldam’s</i> Discourse, and
+that this was their Place of Assignation: Suspecting too, that either
+Sir <i>Francis</i>, or Sir <i>Thomas</i>, of whom she had heard not long
+before, was Sir <i>William</i>, her Brother. The Musick and all the
+Noise in the House ceas’d about four a Clock in the Morning; when she
+again fell into a Sleep, that took away the Sense of her Sorrows, and
+Doubts ’till Nine; when she was again visited from her Lady, by the same
+She-attendant, to know how she had rested, and if she wou’d Please to
+Command her any Service. <i>Philadelphia</i> reply’d, That she had
+rested very well most Part of the Morning, and that she wanted nothing,
+but to know how her Lady had Slept, and whether she were in Health,
+unless it were the Sight of her Brother. The Servant return’d with this
+Answer to her Lady, while <i>Philadelphia</i> made shift to rise, and
+begin to Dress without an Assistant; but she had hardly put on anything
+more than her Night-gown, e’re the Lady <i>Beldam</i> herself came in
+her <i>Dishabille</i>, to assure her of her Brother’s Company with ’em
+at Dinner, exactly at One a Clock; and finding <i>Philadelphia</i> doing
+the Office of a Waiting-woman to herself, call’d up the same Servant,
+and in a great Heat (in&nbsp;which however she took Care to make Use of
+none of her familiar develish Dialect) ask’d the Reason
+<span class = "pagenum">46</span>
+that she durst leave the Lady when she was Rising. The Wench trembling,
+reply’d, That indeed the Lady did not let her know that she had any
+Thoughts of Rising. Well then (said her seeming offended Lady) stir not
+from her now, I&nbsp;charge you, ’till she shall think fit to dismiss
+you, and Command your Absence. Dear Madam, Good Morrow to you, (said she
+to <i>Philadelphia</i>) I’ll make haste and Dress too. Good Morrow to
+your Ladyship (return’d the design’d Victim) when she was
+<i>Habille</i>, she desir’d the Servant to withdraw; after which she
+betook herself to her Devotion; at the end of which the Lady
+<i>Beldam</i> return’d, attended by a Servant, who brought some Bread
+and Wine for her Breakfast; which might then be seasonable enough to
+<i>Philadelphia</i>; who cou’d not forbear discovering the Apprehensions
+she had of her Brother’s Unkindness, still entertaining her
+<i>Reverence</i>, with the Fear she had of his Disappointment that Day
+at Dinner; which t’other oppos’d with all the seeming Reasons her Art
+cou’d suggest, ’till the Clock had struck Twelve; when a Servant came to
+tell the Lady <i>Beldam</i>, that one Sir <i>William Wilding</i> wou’d
+certainly wait on her precisely at One, and desir’d that he might Dine
+in the young Lady’s Apartment, to avoid being seen by any Visitants that
+might come; and besides, that he had invited a Gentleman, his particular
+Friend, to Dinner with him there. This Message being deliver’d aloud by
+the Servant, was no little Satisfaction to the poor desponding young
+Lady, who discours’d very chearfully of indifferent Matters, ’till the
+Clock gave ’em Notice that the Hour was come; within three Minutes after
+which, Word was brought to the Lady <i>Beldam</i>, that a Gentleman
+below enquir’d for Sir <i>William Wilding</i>, whom she immediately went
+down to receive, and led up to <i>Philadelphia</i>. Madam, (cry’d the
+great Mistress of her Art) this is the Gentleman whom Sir <i>William</i>
+has invited to Dinner with us; and I am very Happy to see him, for he is
+my worthy Friend, and of a long Acquaintance.
+<span class = "pagenum">47</span>
+Trust me, Madam, he is a Man of Honour, and has a very large Estate:
+I&nbsp;doubt not (added she) that you will find his Merits in his
+Conversation. Here <i>Gracelove</i>, for that was the Gentleman’s Name,
+saluted <i>Philadelphia</i>, and acquitted himself like a Person of good
+Sense and Education, in his first Address to her; which she return’d
+with all the Modesty and ingenuous Simplicity that was still proper to
+her. At last she ask’d him how long he thought it wou’d be e’re Sir
+<i>William</i> came? To which he reply’d, that Sir <i>William</i> told
+him, unless he were there exactly at half an Hour after One, they shou’d
+not stay Dinner for him; that he had not parted with him much above a
+Quarter of an Hour, when he left him engag’d with particular Company,
+about some weighty Business: But however, that, if he shou’d be so
+unhappy as to lose their Conversation at Dinner, he wou’d not fail to
+wait on ’em by Four at farthest. The young Lady seem’d a little uneasie
+at this; but the Gentleman appearing so very Modest, and speaking it
+with such an assur’d Gravity, took away all Thoughts of Suspicion. To
+say Truth, <i>Gracelove</i> was a very honest, modest, worthy and
+handsome Person; and had the Command, at present, of a many Thousand
+Pounds, he was by Profession a <i>Turkey</i> Merchant: He had Travell’d
+much, for his Age, not having then reach’d Thirty, and had seen most of
+the Courts in <i>Christendom</i>: He was a Man of a sweet Temper, of
+just Principles, and of inviolable Friendship, where he promis’d; which
+was no where, but where ’twas merited. The Minute came then at length,
+but without any Sir <i>William</i>; so Dinner was serv’d up in the Room
+next to <i>Philadelphia’s</i> Bed-chamber. What they had was Nice and
+Seasonable; and they were all Three as Pleasant as cou’d be expected,
+without Sir <i>William</i>; to whose Health the Glass went round once or
+twice. Dinner over, and the Table clear’d, the old Lady <i>Beldam</i>
+entreated Mr. <i>Gracelove</i> to entertain the young Lady with a
+Discourse of his Travels, and of
+<span class = "pagenum">48</span>
+the most remarkable Passages and Encounters of ’em, which he perform’d
+with a Modesty and Gravity peculiar to himself; and in some part of his
+Discourse mov’d the innocent Passions of the beauteous and compassionate
+<i>Philadelphia</i>; who was as attentive as she us’d to be in Church at
+Divine Service. When the old Lady perceiv’d that he had made an end, or
+at least, that he desir’d to proceed no farther, she took Occasion to
+leave ’em together, in haste; pretending, that she had forgotten to give
+Orders to one of her Servants, about a Business of Moment, and that she
+wou’d return to ’em in a very little Time. The Gentleman, you may
+believe, was very well pleas’d with her Retreat, since he had a
+Discourse to make to <i>Philadelphia</i> of a quite contrary Nature to
+the Preceding, which requir’d Privacy: But how grateful her Absence was
+to <i>Philadelphia</i>, we may judge by the Sequel. Madam, (said
+<i>Gracelove</i>) how do you like the Town? Have you yet seen any Man
+here whom you cou’d Love? Alas, Sir! (she reply’d) I&nbsp;have not seen
+the Town, only in a Coach, as I pass’d along, nor ever was in any House,
+except this and another, where my Brother lodg’d: And to your other
+Question I must Answer, that I Love all Men. That’s generous, indeed,
+Madam! (cry’d&nbsp;he) there is then some hope that I am one of the
+Number. No doubt, Sir, (she return’d) that I Love you as well as any,
+except Sir <i>William</i>. Is he the happy Man then, Madam? (said
+<i>Gracelove</i>.) If to be loved best by me, may make any Man happy,
+doubtless it must be he, for he is my own Brother. I&nbsp;fancy, Madam,
+(return’d&nbsp;he) that you may make me as dear a Relation to you, as
+Sir <i>William</i>. How is that possible, Sir? she ask’d. Thus, Madam,
+(replied he, drawing closer to her) by our nearer Approaches to one
+another. O, Heaven defend me! (cried she aloud) what do you mean? Take
+away your Hand; you uncivil Man! Help! Madam! my Lady! O, (said
+<i>Gracelove</i>) she’s gone purposely out of hearing. Am I betray’d
+then? She cried. Betray’d! as if your
+<span class = "pagenum">49</span>
+pretty innocent Ladyship did not know where you were lodged. Ah, Lady,
+(said&nbsp;he) this Faint will never do. Come, Child, (pursued&nbsp;he)
+here are an hundred Guineas for you; and I promise you Yearly as much,
+and Two Hundred with every Child that I shall get on thy sweet Body:
+Faith I love thee, thou pretty Creature. Come! let’s be better
+acquainted! you know my Meaning. Hell does, no doubt of (she return’d!)
+O&nbsp;Monster a Man! I&nbsp;hate the Sight of you. With that she flung
+from him, and ran into the Bed-chamber, where she thought to have locked
+herself in; but the Key was conveyed into his Pocket. Thither,
+therefore, he pursued her, crying, Ah, Madam, this is the proper Field
+for our Dispute. Perceiving her Error, and animated by Despair, she
+rushed between him and the Door, into the outward Room again, he still
+following, and dodging her from Chair to Chair, she still Shrieking. At
+last (cried&nbsp;he) a&nbsp;Parley, Madam, with you. Let me ask you one
+Question, and will you Answer me directly and truly to it? Indeed,
+I&nbsp;will, (said she) if it be Civil. Don’t you know then, that you
+are in a naughty House, and that old <i>Beldam</i> is a rank Procuress,
+to whom I am to give Two hundred Guineas for your Maidenhead?
+O&nbsp;Heaven (cried she, kneeling with Tears gushing out from her dear
+Eyes) thou Asserter and Guardian of Innocence! protect me from the
+impious Practices intended against me! Then looking steadfastly on him,
+Sir, (pursued she) I&nbsp;can but Difficultly guess what you mean: But I
+find, that unless you prove what at first you seemed to me, I&nbsp;would
+say, an honest worthy Gentleman, I&nbsp;shall be in danger of eternal
+Ruin. You, Sir, are the only Person that may yet Preserve me. Therefore
+I beseech you, Sir, hear my Story, with the Injuries and Afflictions
+that so dreadfully torment me; of which, I&nbsp;am sure, none of those
+<i>Barbarians</i>, of which you had Occasion to speak but now, would
+have been guilty! O&nbsp;hear, and help me! for Heaven’s Sake, hear and
+help me! I&nbsp;will,
+<span class = "pagenum">50</span>
+poor Creature, (return’d&nbsp;he) methinks I now begin to see my Crime
+and thy Innocence in thy Words and Looks. Here she recounted to him all
+the Accidents of her Life, since her Father’s Decease, to that very Day,
+e’re <i>Gracelove</i> came to Dinner. And now (cry’d she, sobbing and
+weeping) how dare I trust this naughty Brother again? Can I be safe with
+him, think you, Sir? O! no; thou dear sweet Creature! by no Means.
+O&nbsp;infernal Monsters, Brother and Bawd! If you distrust that I am
+yet his Sister, here, Sir, take this Key, (said she) and open that Trunk
+within, where you will find Letters from him to me in his own Hand; and
+from my own dear dead Father too, Sir <i>Edward</i>, that gracious, that
+good Man! He shew’d us both the Paths of Virtue: which I have not yet
+forsaken. Pray satisfy me, Sir, and see the Truth! For your Satisfaction
+I will, Madam, (said&nbsp;he) but I am now fully convinc’d that you have
+greater Beauties within, than those I admire without. Saying this, he
+open’d the Trunk, where he read a Line or two from her Father, and as
+many from her Brother, which having again laid down, return’d to her,
+with this Advice: I&nbsp;see, Madam, (said&nbsp;he) that you have Money
+there, and several Things of Value, which I desire you to secure about
+you this Moment; for I mean to deliver you out of this cursed Place, if
+you dare put any Confidence in a Stranger, after your own Brother has
+acted the Part of so great a Villain; if you dare trust a Stranger too,
+Madam, who had himself a Design upon you; Heaven forgive me for it! but
+by all Things sacred, I&nbsp;find my Error: I&nbsp;pity you, and I fear
+I shall love you. Do you fear that, Sir? (said she) Why I love you
+dearly now, because I see you are going to be good again; that is, you
+are going to be yourself again. I&nbsp;hope, nay, I&nbsp;resolve I will,
+tho’ it cost me my Life (said&nbsp;he.) Can you submit, Madam, to attend
+on a young Lady of my Acquaintance here in Town, ’till I can provide
+better for you? O&nbsp;I can be any Thing; a&nbsp;Chamber-Maid,
+a&nbsp;Cook-Maid, a&nbsp;Scullion,
+<span class = "pagenum">51</span>
+what you shall think fit, tho’ never so mean, that is not naughty. Well,
+Madam, (said&nbsp;he) compose your self then, and seem a little pleasant
+when I bring up that old Factoress of Hell. I&nbsp;will endeavour it,
+Sir, she return’d; and he went down to the Devil’s chief Agent, to whom
+he said, that the poor Thing was at first very uneasy, but that now she
+had consented to go along with him for an Hour or two to some other
+Place, doubting your Secrecy; for she would not have her Brother know
+it, as she calls him, for a thousand Worlds, and more Money. Well, my
+Son, (reply’d old <i>Beldam</i>) you may take her with you: But you
+remember your Bargain. O&nbsp;fie, Mother! (cry’d&nbsp;he) did you ever
+know me false to you? No, no, you smock’d-fac’d Wag, (said she) but be
+sure you bring her again to Night, for fear Sir <i>William</i> should
+come. Never doubt it! Come up with me, (cry’d&nbsp;he) you’ll see a
+strange Alteration, I&nbsp;believe. To <i>Philadelphia</i> they came
+then, whom they found walking about the Room, and looking something more
+pleasantly than she had ever done since she came thither. After she had
+taken her <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘Money,and’">Money, and</ins> other Things of Value, so, Madam, (said
+<i>Beldam</i>) how does your Ladiship now? I&nbsp;find, the Sight of a
+young handsome Gentleman has work’d Wonders with you in a little Time:
+I&nbsp;understand you are going to take a Walk with my worthy Friend
+here, and ’tis well done: I&nbsp;dare trust you with him, but with no
+other Man living, except Sir <i>William</i>. Madam, (return’d the fair
+afflicted Lady) I&nbsp;am strangely oblig’d to you for your Care of me,
+and am sure I shall never be able to return your Obligations as I ought,
+and as I could wish. You won’t stay late, Mr. <i>Gracelove</i>? (said
+the Mother of Mischief.) No, no, (reply’d&nbsp;he) I&nbsp;will only shew
+the Lady a Play, and return to Supper. What is play’d to Night? (ask’d
+the old One) <a class = "comm" name = "happy_commtag2" id =
+"happy_commtag2" href = "#happy_comm2"><i>The Cheats, <em>Mother</em>,
+the Cheats.</i></a> (answer’d <i>Gracelove</i>.) Ha, (said
+<i>Beldam</i>, laughing) a&nbsp;very pretty Comedy, indeed! Ay, if well
+play’d, return’d he. At these Words, they went down, where a Coach was
+<span class = "pagenum">52</span>
+call’d; which carry’d ’em to Counsellor <i>Fairlaw’s</i> House, in
+<i>Great Lincolns-Inn-Fields</i>, whom they found accidentally at Home;
+but his Lady and Daughter were just gone to Chapel, being then turn’d of
+Five. <i>Gracelove</i> began his Apology to the good old Counsellor, who
+was his Relation, for bringing a strange Lady thither, with a Design to
+place her in his Family: But Sir, continu’d he, if you knew her
+sorrowful Story, you would be as ambitious of entertaining her, as I am
+earnest to entreat it of you. A&nbsp;very beautiful Lady ’tis, (return’d
+the Counsellor) and very modest, I&nbsp;believe. That I can witness
+(reply’d t’other.) Alas, Sir! (said the fair Unfortunate) I&nbsp;have
+nothing but my Modesty and honest Education to recommend me to your
+Regard. I&nbsp;am wrong’d and forsaken by my nearest Relation; then she
+wept extravagantly: That Gentleman can give you an Account of my
+Misfortunes, if he pleases, with greater Ease and less Trouble than my
+self. Not with less Trouble, believe me, Madam; (return’d
+<i>Gracelove</i>) and then began to inform <i>Fairlaw</i> in every Point
+of her unhappy Circumstances. The good old Gentleman heard ’em with
+Amazement and Horror; but told her, however, that she need not despond,
+for he would take Care to right her against her Brother; and, that in
+the mean Time she should be as welcome to him as any of his nearest
+Kindred, except his Wife and Daughter. <i>Philadelphia</i> would have
+knelt to thank him; but he told her, that humble Posture was due to none
+but Heaven, and the King sometimes. In a little While after, the Lady
+<i>Fairlaw</i> and her Daughter came Home, who were surpriz’d at the
+Sight of a Stranger, but more at her Beauty, and most of all at her
+Story, which the good old Gentleman himself could not forbear relating
+to ’em: Which ended, the Mother and Daughter both kindly and tenderly
+embrac’d her, promising her all the Assistance within their Power, and
+bid her a thousand Welcomes. <i>Gracelove</i> stay’d there ’till after
+Supper, and left her extremely satisfy’d with her new Station. ’Twas
+<span class = "pagenum">53</span>
+here she fix’d then; and her Deportment was so obliging, that they would
+not part with her for any Consideration. About three Days after her
+coming from that lewd Woman’s House, <i>Gracelove</i> took a Constable
+and some other Assistants, and went to <i>Beldam’s</i> to demand the
+Trunk, and what was in it, which at first her Reverence deny’d to
+return, ’till Mr. Constable produc’d the Emblem of his Authority, upon
+which it was deliver’d, without so much as re-minding <i>Gracelove</i>
+of his Bargain; who then pretended he would search the House for Sir
+<i>William Wilding</i>; but her graceless Reverence swore most devoutly
+that he had never been there, and that she had neither seen nor heard
+from him since the Day he left <i>Philadelphia</i> with her. With these
+Things, and this Account he return’d to Counsellor <i>Fairlaw’s</i>, who
+desir’d <i>Gracelove</i>, if possible, to find out Sir <i>William</i>,
+and employ’d several others on the same Account. In less than a Month’s
+Time <i>Gracelove</i> had the good Fortune to find him at his Lodgings
+in <i>Soho-Square</i>, where he discours’d him about his Sister’s
+Portion, and desir’d Sir <i>William</i> to take some speedy Care for the
+Payment of it; otherwise she had Friends that would oblige him to it,
+tho’ never so contrary to his Intentions. <i>Wilding</i> ask’d where she
+was? t’other enquir’d where he left her? Sir <i>William</i> reply’d,
+that he had plac’d her with an old grave Gentlewoman of his
+Acquaintance, and that he thought she was there still. No, Sir,
+(return’d <i>Gracelove</i>) I have deliver’d her out of the Jaws of
+Perdition and Hell. Come, Sir <i>William</i>, (answer’d&nbsp;he) ’twas
+impiously done, to leave your beautiful, young, and virtuous Sister, to
+the Management of that pernicious Woman. I&nbsp;found her at old
+<i>Beldam’s</i>, who would have prostituted her to me for two hundred
+Guineas; but her heavenly Virtues might have secur’d and guarded her
+from more violent Attempts than mine. Blush, if you can, Sir! and repent
+of this! It will become you. If not, Sir, you will hear farther from
+your Servant, added he, and left him staring
+<span class = "pagenum">54</span>
+after him. This Discourse was a great Mortification to the Knight, whose
+Conscience, harden’d as it was, felt yet some Pain by it. He found he
+was not like to continue safe or at Ease there, where he immediately
+retreated into a Place of Sanctuary, call’d the <i>Savoy</i>, whither
+his whole Equipage was remov’d as soon as possible, he having left Order
+with his Servants, to report that he went out of Town that very
+Afternoon for his own Country. <i>Gracelove</i> in the mean Time
+return’d to the Counsellor’s, with a great deal of Joy, for having
+discover’d Sir <i>William</i> at his Lodgings, which was likewise no
+little Satisfaction to <i>Fairlaw</i>, his Lady and Daughter;
+<i>Philadelphia</i> only was disturb’d when she heard the good old
+Gentleman threaten to lay her Brother fast enough: But, alas! he was too
+cunning for ’em; for in a whole Twelvemonth after, all which Time they
+made Enquiry, and narrowly search’d for him, they could not see him, nor
+any one that could give an Account of him, for he had chang’d his true
+Name and Title, for that of ’Squire <i>Sportman</i>. The farther Pursuit
+of him then seem’d fruitless to ’em, and they were forc’d to be
+contented with their Wishes to find him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Gracelove</i> by this Time had entertain’d the sincerest
+Affections and noblest Passion that Man can be capable of, for
+<i>Philadelphia</i>; of which he had made her sensible, who had at that
+Time comply’d with his honourable Demands, had she not entreated him to
+expect a kind Turn of Providence, which might, (happily) e’re long, put
+her in Possession of her Right; without which, she told him, she could
+not consent to marry him, who had so plentiful a Fortune, and she
+nothing but her Person and Innocence. How, Madam! (cry’d&nbsp;he) have
+you no Love in Store for me! Yes, Sir, (return’d she) as much as you can
+wish I have in Store for you, and so I beg it may be kept ’till a better
+Opportunity. Well, Madam, (said&nbsp;he) I&nbsp;must leave you for some
+Months, perhaps for a whole Year; I&nbsp;have receiv’d Letters of Advice
+that urge the Necessity of my
+<span class = "pagenum">55</span>
+going to <i>Turkey</i>; I have not a Week’s Time to endeavour so dreaded
+a Separation as I must suffer; therefore, thou beautiful, thou dear,
+thou virtuous Creature, let me begin now! Here, thou tenderest Part of
+my Soul! (continu’d he, giving her a rich Diamond Ring) wear this ’till
+my Return! I&nbsp;hope the Sight of it may sometimes re-call the dying
+Memory of <i>Gracelove</i> to your better-busy’d Thoughts. Ah,
+<i>Gracelove</i>! (said she) nothing can so well, nothing I am sure can
+better employ my Thoughts, than thy dear self: Heaven only excepted.
+They enlarg’d a great deal more on this Subject at that Time; but the
+Night before his Departure was entirely spent in Sighs, Vows, and Tears,
+on both Sides. In the Morning, after he had again entreated his
+Cousin’s, and the Lady’s, and her Daughter’s Care and Kindness to
+<i>Philadelphia</i>, the remaining and best Part of his Soul, with one
+hearty Kiss, accompany’d with Tears, he took a long Farewel of his dear
+Mistress, who pursu’d him with her Eyes, ’till they could give her no
+farther Intelligence of him; and they help’d her Kindness to him, and
+eas’d her Grief for his Absence in weeping for above a Week together,
+when in private. He never omitted writing to her and his Cousin by every
+Opportunity, for near nine Months, as he touch’d at any Port; but
+afterwards they could not hear from him for above half a Year; when, by
+Accident, the Counsellor met a Gentleman of <i>Gracelove’s</i>
+Acquaintance at a Coffee-House, who gave him an Account, that the Ship
+and he were both cast away, near five Months since; that most if not all
+of the Ship’s Company perish’d; of which, ’twas fear’d, <i>Gracelove</i>
+was one, having never since been heard of. That his Loss in that Ship
+amounted to above twelve thousand Pounds: With this dreadful and amazing
+News the good old <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘Gentlemen’">Gentleman</ins> returns Home, afflicts his poor sorrowful
+Lady and Daughter, and almost kills unhappy <i>Philadelphia</i>; who the
+next Day, by mere Chance, and from a Stranger, who came on Business to
+the Counsellor, heard, that one Sir <i>William Wilding</i>, an
+<span class = "pagenum">56</span>
+extravagant, mad, young Spark of such a County, who lately went by the
+borrow’d Name and Title of ’Squire <i>Sportman</i>, had mortgag’d all
+his Estate, which was near four thousand a Year, and carry’d the Money
+over with him into <i>France</i> on Saturday last. This, added to the
+former News, put so great a Check on her Spirits, that she immediately
+dropp’d down in a Swoon; whence she only recover’d, to fall into what
+was of a much more dangerous Consequence, a&nbsp;violent Feaver, which
+held her for near six Weeks, e’re she could get Strength enough to go
+down Stairs: In all which Time, Madam <i>Fairlaw</i> and <i>Eugenia</i>,
+her Daughter, attended her as carefully and constantly, as if they had
+been her own Mother and Sister: The good old Counsellor still commending
+and encouraging their Care. The Roses and Lillies at last took their
+Places again; but the Clouds of her Sorrow were still but too visible.
+Two Years more past, without one Word of Advice from <i>Gracelove</i> or
+any Account of him from any one else; insomuch, that they all concluded
+he was certainly dead: And, ’twas true, indeed, that his Ship and he
+were cast away, much about that Time that the Gentleman gave
+<i>Fairlaw</i> a Relation: That ’twas certain he had lost above
+12000<i>l.</i> and had like to have lost his Life; but being very expert
+in Swimming, he got to Shoar upon the Coast of <i>Barbary</i>, the Wreck
+happening not to be above three Leagues thence; he was in almost as bad
+a Condition as if he had been drown’d, for here he was made a Prisoner
+to one of the Natives; in which miserable Circumstance he lanquish’d for
+above six Years, for Want of a Ransom; which he had often endeavour’d to
+raise by Letters, that he sent hither to his Friends
+(in&nbsp;<i>England</i>;) amongst which Counsellor <i>Fairlaw</i> was
+one of his most particular and assur’d. But however Providence or
+Accident, if you please, order’d it, not a Line came to the Hands of any
+of his Friends; so that had not Heaven had yet a future Blessing in
+Store for him, he had certainly have better perish’d in the Sea, than to
+have
+<span class = "pagenum">57</span>
+fall’n into the Power of a People less merciful than Seas, Winds, or
+hungry wild Beasts in Pursuit of their Prey. But this could not be
+learn’d (it&nbsp;seems) from any Man but himself, upon his Return, after
+his Redemption.</p>
+
+<p>Two Years more pass’d on; towards the latter of which the old Lady
+<i>Fairlaw</i> took her Bed, desperately sick, insomuch that she was
+given over by all her Physicians; she continu’d in great Misery for near
+two Months; in all which Time <i>Philadelphia</i> was constantly with
+her all the Day, or all the Night; much about that Time she dy’d; and,
+dying, told her Husband, that she had observ’d he had a particular
+Esteem or Kindness for <i>Philadelphia</i>; which was now a great
+Satisfaction to her; since she was <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘asssur’d’">assur’d</ins>, that if he marry’d her, she would
+prove an excellent Nurse to him, and prolong his Life by some Years. As
+for <i>Eugenia</i>, (added she) you need not be concern’d; I’m sure she
+will consent to any Thing that you shall propose, having already so
+plentifully provided for her. The good old Gentleman answer’d, that he
+would fulfil her Will as far as lay in his Power: And not long after,
+she departed this Life. Her Burial was very handsome and honourable.
+Half a Year was now expir’d since her Interment, when the old Counsellor
+began to plead his own Cause to young <i>Philadelphia</i>, reminding her
+that now the Death of <i>Gracelove</i> was out of Question; and that
+therefore she was as much at her Liberty to make her own Choice of an
+Husband as he was of a Wife; not forgetting, at the same Time, to let
+her know, that his Widow, (whoever had the good Fortune to be&nbsp;so)
+would be worth above thirty thousand Pounds in ready Money, besides a
+thousand a Year. But, above all, he urg’d his dying Lady’s last Advice
+to him, that he would marry her; and hop’d she would see the Will of the
+Dead satisfy’d. The young Lady being broken in Sorrows, and having
+mortify’d all her Appetites to the Enjoyments of this World, and not
+knowing where to meet with so fair an Overture, tho’
+<span class = "pagenum">58</span>
+at first, in Modesty, she seem’d to refuse it as too great an Honour,
+yet yielded to less than a Quarter of an Hour’s Courtship. And the next
+Sunday marry’d they were, with the Consent, and to the perfect
+Satisfaction of, his Daughter, Madam <i>Eugenia</i>; who lov’d
+<i>Philadelphia</i> sincerely. They kept their Wedding very nobly for a
+Month, at their own House in <i>Great Lincolns-Inn-Fields</i>; but the
+Memory of the old Lady was still so fresh with the young Lady
+<i>Fairlaw</i>, that she prevail’d with him to remove to another, more
+convenient as she fancy’d, in <i>Covent-Garden</i>. They had dwelt there
+not much more than four Months, e’re the good old Gentleman fell sick
+and dy’d. Whether it were the Change of an old House for a new, or an
+old Wife for a young, is yet uncertain, tho’ his Physicians said, and
+are still of Opinion, that, doubtless, it was the last. ’Tis past all
+Doubt, that she did really mourn for and lament his Death; for she lov’d
+him perfectly, and pay’d him all the dutiful respect of a virtuous Wife,
+while she liv’d within that State with him; which he rewarded as I have
+said before. His Funeral was very sumptuous and honourable indeed! and
+as soon as it was over, <i>Eugenia</i> desir’d her young beautiful
+Mother-in-Law to retreat a little with her into the Country, to a
+pleasant House she had, not twenty Miles distant from Town; urging, That
+she could by no Means enjoy her self under that Roof, where her dear
+Father dy’d. The obliging Step-mother, who might more properly have been
+call’d her Sister, being exactly of the same Age with her, readily
+comply’d, and she pass’d away all that Summer with <i>Eugenia</i>, at
+their Country-Seat, and most Part of the Winter too; for <i>Eugenia</i>
+could by no Means be prevail’d on to lie one Night in her Mother’s
+House; ’twas with some Reluctancy that she consented to dine there
+sometimes. At length the whole Year of <i>Philadelphia’s</i> Widowhood
+was expir’d; during which, you can’t but imagine that she was solicited
+and address’d to by as many Lovers, or pretended Lovers,
+<span class = "pagenum">59</span>
+as our dear King <i>Charles</i>, whom God grant long to reign, was
+lately by the Presbyterians, Independants, Anabaptists, and all those
+canting whiggish Brethren! But she had never lik’d any Man so well as to
+make him her Husband, by Inclination, unless it was <i>Gracelove</i>,
+devour’d by the greedy Inhabitants of the Sea.</p>
+
+<p>Whilst her Fortune began to mend thus, her Brother’s grew worse; but
+that was indeed the Effect of his Extravagancy: In less than two Years
+Time, he had spent eight thousand Pounds in <i>France</i>, whence he
+return’d to <i>England</i>, and pursuing his old profuse Manner of
+Living, contracted above 100<i>l.</i> Debts here, in less than four
+Months Time; which not being able to satisfy, he was arrested, and
+thrown into a <ins class = "correction" title =
+"spelling unchanged">Goal</ins>, whence he remov’d himself into the <i>King’s
+Bench</i>, on that very Day that old <i>Fairlaw</i> dy’d. There, at
+first, for about a Month, he was entertain’d like a Gentleman; but
+finding no Money coming, nor having a Prospect of any, the Marshal and
+his Instruments turn’d him to the Common Side, where he learnt the Art
+of Peg-making, a&nbsp;Mystery to which he had been a Stranger all his
+Life long ’till then. ’Twas then he wish’d he might see his Sister,
+hoping that she was in a Condition to relieve him; which he was apt to
+believe, from the Discourse he had with <i>Gracelove</i> some Years
+past. Often he wish’d to see her, but in vain; however, the next
+<i>Easter</i> after the old Counsellor’s Death, <i>Philadelphia</i>,
+according to his Custom, sent her Steward to relieve all the poor
+Prisoners about Town; among the rest he visited those in the common Side
+of the <i>King’s Bench</i>, where he heard ’em call Sir <i>William
+Wilding</i> to partake of his Lady’s Charity. The poor Prodigal was then
+feeding on the Relief of the Basket, not being yet able to get his Bread
+at his new Trade: To him the Steward gave a Crown, whereas the other had
+but Half a Crown apiece. Then he enquir’d of some of the unhappy
+Gentlemen, Sir <i>William’s</i> Fellow-Collegians, of what Country Sir
+<i>William</i> was? How long
+<span class = "pagenum">60</span>
+he had been there? And how much his Debts were? All of which he receiv’d
+a satisfactory Account. Upon his Return to his Lady, he repeated the
+dismal News of her Brother’s Misfortunes to her; who immediately
+dispatch’d him back again to the Prison, with Orders to give him twenty
+Shillings more at present, and to get him remov’d to the Master’s Side,
+into a convenient Chamber, for the Rent of which the Steward engag’d to
+pay; and promis’d him, as she had commanded, twenty Shillings a Week, as
+long as he stay’d there, on Condition that he would give the Names of
+all his Creditors, and of all those to whom he had engag’d any Part of
+his Estate; which the poor Gentleman did most readily and faithfully:
+After which, the Steward enquir’d for a Taylor, who came and took
+Measure of <i>Philadelphia’s</i> unkind Brother, and was order’d to
+provide him Linnen, a&nbsp;Hat, Shoes, Stockings, and all such
+Necessaries, not so much as omitting a Sword: With all which he
+acquainted his Lady at his Return; who was very much griev’d at her
+Brother’s unhappy Circumstances, and at the same Time extremely well
+pleas’d to find her self in a Condition to relieve him. The Steward went
+constantly once a Week to pay him his Money; and Sir <i>William</i> was
+continually very curious to know to whom he was oblig’d for so many and
+great Favours; But he was answer’d, That they came from a Lady who
+desir’d to have her Name conceal’d. In less than a Year,
+<i>Philadelphia</i> had paid 25000<i>l.</i> and taken off the Mortgages
+on 2500<i>l.</i> <i>per Annum</i> of her Brother’s Estate; and coming to
+Town from <i>Eugenia’s</i> Country-House one Day, to make the last
+Payment of two thousand Pounds, looking out of her Coach on the Road,
+near <i>Dartford</i>, she saw a Traveller on Foot, who seem’d to be
+tir’d with his Journey, whose Face, she thought, she had formerly known:
+This Thought invited her to look on him so long, that she, at last,
+perswaded her self it was <i>Gracelove</i>, or his Ghost: For, to say
+Truth, he was very pale and thin, his Complexion
+<span class = "pagenum">61</span>
+swarthy, and his Cloaths (perhaps) as rotten as if he had been bury’d in
+’em. However, unpleasant as it was, she could not forbear gazing after
+this miserable Spectacle; and the more she beheld it, the more she was
+confirmed it was <i>Gracelove</i>, or something that had usurp’d his
+Figure. In short, she could not rest ’till she call’d to one of her
+Servants, who rode by the Coach, whom she strictly charg’d to go to that
+poor Traveller, and mount him on his Horse, ’till they came to
+<i>Dartford</i>; where she order’d him to take him to the same Inn where
+she baited, and refresh him with any Thing that he would eat or drink;
+and after that, to hire a Horse for him, to come to Town with them: That
+then he should be brought Home to her own House, and be carefully look’d
+after, ’till farther Orders from her. All which was most duly and
+punctually perform’d.</p>
+
+<p>The next Morning early she sent for the Steward, whom she order’d to
+take the Stranger to a Sale-shop, and fit him with a Suit of good
+Cloaths, to buy him Shirts, and other Linnen, and all Necessaries, as he
+had provided for her Brother; and gave him Charge to use him as her
+particular Friend, during his Stay there, bidding him, withal, learn his
+Name and Circumstances, if possible, and to supply him with Money for
+his Pocket Expences: All which he most faithfully and discreetly
+perform’d, and brought his Lady an Account of his Sufferings by Sea, and
+Slavery among the <i>Turks</i>, as I have before related; adding, that
+his Name was <i>Gracelove</i>. This was the greatest Happiness,
+certainly, that ever yet the dear beautiful Creature was sensible of. On
+t’other Side, <i>Gracelove</i> could not but admire and praise his good
+Fortune, that had so miraculously and bountifully reliev’d him; and one
+Day having some private Discourse with the Steward, he could not forbear
+expressing the Sense he had of it; declaring, That he could not have
+expected such kind Treatment from any Body breathing, but from his
+Cousin, Counsellor <i>Fairlaw</i>, his Lady, or another young
+<span class = "pagenum">62</span>
+Lady, whom he plac’d and left with his Cousins. Counsellor
+<i>Fairlaw</i>! (cry’d the Steward) why, Sir, my Lady is the old
+Counsellor’s Widow; she is very beautiful and young too. What was her
+Name, Sir, before she marry’d the Counsellor? (ask’d <i>Gracelove</i>)
+That I know not, (reply’d t’other) for the old Steward dy’d presently
+after the old Lady, which is not a Year and a Half since; in whose Place
+I succeed; and I have never been so curious or inquisitive, as to pry
+into former Passages of the Family. Do you know, Sir, (said
+<i>Gracelove</i>) whereabouts in Town they liv’d before? Yes, Sir,
+(return’d the Steward, who was taught how to answer) in <i>Great
+Lincolns-Inn-Fields</i>, I think, Alas! (cry’d <i>Gracelove</i>) ’twas
+the same Gentleman to whom I design’d to apply my self when I came to
+<i>England</i>. You need not despair now, Sir, (said t’other)
+I&nbsp;dare say my Lady will supply your Wants. O&nbsp;wonderful
+Goodness of a Stranger! (cry’d <i>Gracelove</i>) uncommon and rare
+amongst Relations and Friends! How have I, or how can I ever merit this?
+Upon the End of their Conference, the Steward went to
+<i>Philadelphia</i>, and repeated it almost <i>verbatim</i> to her; who
+order’d <i>Gracelove</i> should be taken Measure of by the best Taylor
+in <i>Covent-Garden</i>; that he should have three of the most modish
+rich Suits made, that might become a private Gentleman of a Thousand
+Pounds a Year, and Hats, Perukes, Linnen, Swords, and all Things
+suitable to ’em, all to be got ready in less than a Month; in which
+Time, she took all the Opportunity she could either find or make to see
+him, and not to be seen by him: She oblig’d her Steward to invite him to
+a Play, whither she follow’d ’em, and sate next to <i>Gracelove</i>, and
+talk’d with him; but all the while masq’d. In this Month’s Time she was
+daily pester’d with the Visits of her Addressors; several there were of
+’em; but the chief were only a Lord of a very small Estate, tho’ of a
+pretty great Age; a&nbsp;young blustering Knight, who had a Place of
+500<i>l.</i> a Year at Court; and a County Gentleman, of a very
+plentiful Estate, a&nbsp;Widower,
+<span class = "pagenum">63</span>
+and of a middle Age. These three only of her Lovers she invited to
+Dinner, on the first Day of the next Month: In the mean while she sent a
+rich Suit, and Equipage proportionable, to her Brother, with an
+Invitation to dine with her on the same Day. Then she writ to
+<i>Eugenia</i> to come and stay in Town, if not in the same House with
+her, for two or three Days before; which her affectionate Daughter
+obey’d; to whom <i>Philadelphia</i> related all her Brother’s past
+Extravagancies and what she had done for him in redeeming most Part of
+his Estate; begging of her, that if she could fancy his Person, she
+would take him into her Mercy and marry him. Being assur’d, that such a
+virtuous Wife as she would prove, must necessarily reclaim him, if yet
+he were not perfectly convinc’d of his Follies; which, she doubted not,
+his late long Sufferings had done. <i>Eugenia</i> return’d, That she
+would wholly be directed and advis’d by her in all Things; and that
+certainly she could not but like the Brother, since she lov’d the Sister
+so perfectly and truly.</p>
+
+<p>The Day came, and just at Twelve, <i>Gracelove</i>, meeting the
+Steward on the Stairs coming from his Lady, <i>Gracelove</i> then told
+him, that he believ’d he might take the Opportunity of that Afternoon to
+go over to <i>Putney</i>, and take a Game or two at Bowls. The Steward
+return’d, Very well, Sir, I&nbsp;shall let my Lady know it, if she
+enquires for you. <i>Philadelphia</i>, who overheard what they said,
+call’d the Steward in Haste, and bid him call <i>Gracelove</i> back, and
+tell him, she expected his Company at her Table to Day, and that she
+desir’d he would appear like himself. The Steward soon overtook him at
+the Door, just going out as <i>Eugenia</i> came in, who look’d back on
+<i>Gracelove</i>: The poor Gentleman was strangely surpriz’d at the
+Sight of her, as she was at his; but the Steward’s Message did more
+amaze and confound him. He went directly to his Chamber, to dress
+himself in one of those rich Suits lately made for him; but, the
+Distraction he was in, made him mistake his Coat
+<span class = "pagenum">64</span>
+for his Wastcoat, and put the Coat on first; but, recalling his
+straggling Thoughts, he made Shift to get ready time enough to make his
+Appearance without a second Summons. <i>Philadelphia</i> was as pleasant
+at Dinner, as ever she had been all her Life; she look’d very obligingly
+on all the Sparks, and drank to every one of ’em particularly, beginning
+to the Lord&mdash;and ending to the Stranger, who durst hardly lift up
+his Eyes a second Time to her’s, to confirm him that he knew her. Her
+Brother was so confounded, that he bow’d and continu’d his Head down
+’till she had done drinking, not daring to encounter her Eyes, that
+would then have reproach’d him with his Villany to her.</p>
+
+<p>After Dinner the Cloth was taken away; She began thus to her Lovers:
+My Lord! Sir <i>Thomas</i>! and Mr. <i>Fat-acres</i>! I doubt not, that
+it will be of some Satisfaction to you, to know whom I have made Choice
+for my next Husband; which now I am resolv’d no longer to defer.</p>
+
+<p>The Person to whom I shall next drink, must be the Man who shall ever
+command me and my Fortune, were it ten times greater than it is; which I
+wish only for his Sake, since he deserves much more.&mdash;Here, (said
+she to one that waited) put Wine into two Glasses: Then she took the
+Diamond Ring from her Finger, and put it into one of ’em. My dear
+<i>Gracelove</i>, (cry’d she) I&nbsp;drank to thee; and send thee back
+thy own Ring, with <i>Philadelphia’s</i> Heart. He startl’d, blush’d,
+and looked wildly; whilst all the Company stared on him. Nay, pledge me,
+(persu’d she) and return me the Ring: for it shall make us both one the
+next Morning. He bow’d, kiss’d, and return’d it, after he had taken off
+his Wine. The defeated Lovers knew not how to resent <ins class =
+"correction" title = "? in original">it?</ins> The Lord and Knight were
+for going, but the Country Gentleman oppos’d it, and told ’em, ’twas the
+greatest Argument of Folly, to be disturb’d at the Caprice of a Woman’s
+Humour. They sate down again therefore, and she invited ’em to her
+Wedding on the Morrow.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">65</span>
+<p>And now, Brother, (said she) I have not quite forgotten you, tho’ you
+have not been pleas’d to take Notice of me: I&nbsp;have a Dish in
+Reserve for you, which will be more grateful to your Fancy than all you
+have tasted to Day. Here! (cry’d she to the Steward) Mr.
+<i>Rightman</i>, do you serve up that Dish your self. <i>Rightman</i>
+then set a cover’d Dish on the Table. What! more Tricks yet? (cry’d my
+Lord and Sir <i>Thomas</i>) Come, Sir <i>William</i>! (said his Sister)
+uncover it! he did so; and cry’d out, O&nbsp;matchless Goodness of a
+virtuous Sister! here are the Mortgages of the best Part of my Estate!
+O! what a Villain! what a Monster have I been! no more, dear Brother;
+(said she, with Tears in her Eyes) I&nbsp;have yet a greater Happiness
+in Store for you: This Lady, this beautiful virtuous Lady, with twenty
+thousand Pounds, will make you happy in her Love. Saying this, she
+join’d their Hands; Sir <i>William</i> eagerly kiss’d <i>Eugenia’s</i>,
+who blush’d, and said, Thus, Madam, I&nbsp;hope to shew how much I love
+and honour you. My Cousin <i>Eugenia</i>! (cry’d <i>Gracelove</i><ins
+class = "correction" title = "! in original">!)</ins> The same, my dear
+lost dead Cousin <i>Gracelove</i>! (reply’d she) O!&nbsp;(said he in a
+Transport) my present Joys are greater than all my past Miseries! my
+Mistress and my Friend are found, and still are mine. Nay, (faith, said
+my Lord) this is pleasant enough to me, tho’ I&nbsp;have been defeated
+of the Enjoyment of the Lady. The whole Company in general went away
+very well that Night, who return’d the next Morning, and saw the two
+happy Pair firmly united.</p>
+
+<h4 class = "final">FINIS.</h4>
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<h5><a name = "happy_notes" id = "happy_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The Unfortunate Happy Lady.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "happy_comm1" id = "happy_comm1" href = "#happy_commtag1">p.
+43</a>
+<i>Ros Solis.</i> A potent and well-liked tipple.</p>
+
+<div class = "verse">
+<p>We abandon all ale</p>
+<p>And beer that is stale</p>
+<p>Rosa-solis and damnable hum,</p>
+<p>But we will rack</p>
+<p>In the praise of sack</p>
+<p>’Gainst Omne quod exit in um.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class = "right">&mdash;<i>Witts Recreation</i> (1654).</p>
+
+<p><i>The Accomplished Female Instructor</i> gives the following recipe:
+‘Rossa Solis; Take of clean spirits, not too strong, two quarts and a
+quart of spring-water; let them seethe gently over a soft fire till
+about a pint is evaporated; then put in four spoonfuls of
+orange-flower-water, and as much of very good cinnamon-water; crush 3
+eggs in pieces, and throw them in shell and all; stir it well, and when
+it boiles up a little take it off.’ This drink was so great a favourite
+with Louis XIV that a particular sort was named Rossolis du Roi.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">519</span>
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "happy_comm2" id = "happy_comm2" href = "#happy_commtag2">p.
+51</a>
+<i>The Cheats, Mother, the Cheats.</i> John Wilson’s excellent comedy,
+<i>The Cheats</i>, which was written and produced in 1662, attained
+great popularity. It ran into four editions (‘imprimatur,
+5&nbsp;November, 1663’); 4to, 1664; 1671; 1684; 1693. Caustically
+satirizing the Puritans, it became a stock piece, and was acted as late
+as May, 1721, when Griffin, Harper, Diggs, and Mrs. Gifford sustained
+the parts which had been created by Lacy, Mohun, Hart, and Mrs.
+Corey.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">67</span>
+<a name = "fair_jilt" id = "fair_jilt">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE FAIR JILT.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">69</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "jilt_intro" id = "jilt_intro">
+INTRODUCTION.</a></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">Although</span> <i>The Fair Jilt</i> was
+published in 1688, it is interesting to note that ten years earlier,
+Michaelmas Term, 1678, there is advertised for R.&nbsp;Tonson <i>The
+Amorous Convert; being a true Relation of what happened in Holland</i>,
+which may very well be the first sketch of Mrs. Behn’s maturer novel.
+The fact that she does not ‘pretend here to entertain you with a feign’d
+story,’ but on the contrary, ‘every circumstance to a tittle is truth’,
+and that she expressly asserts, ‘To a great part of the main I myself
+was an eye-witness’, aroused considerable suspicion in Bernbaum as to
+the veracity of her narration, a&nbsp;suspicion which, when he gravely
+discovers history to know no such person as her ‘Prince <ins class =
+"correction" title = "obvious error uncorrected: may be in quoted original">Tarpuin</ins>
+of the race of the last Kings of Rome’, is
+resolved into a certainty that she is romancing fully and freely
+throughout. It is surely obvious that such a point does not so much
+demonstrate Mrs. Behn’s untruthfulness as her consummate art. With all
+the nice skill of a born novelist she has so mingled fact and fancy,
+what did occur and what might have been, that any attempt to disentangle
+the twain would be idle indeed. The passages where she is most insistent
+upon the due sequence of events, most detailed in observation are not
+impossibly purely fictional, the incidents related without stress or
+emphatic assertions are probably enough the plain unvarnished happenings
+as she witnessed them. That the history is mainly true admits of little
+question; that Mrs. Behn has heightened and coloured the interest is
+equally certain.</p>
+
+<p><i>The Fair Jilt</i> must be allowed to stand in the very first rank
+amongst her novels. It has been aptly compared to a novella by Bandello,
+and is indeed more than worthy of the pen of the good Dominican Bishop
+of Agen. In all its incidents and motives the story is eternally true.
+The fateful beauty, playing now the part of Potiphar’s wife, and now the
+yet commoner rôle of an enchantress whose charms drive men to madness
+and crime, men who adore her even from their prison cell and are glad to
+go to a shameful death for her sake, appears in all history, in all
+literature, nay, in the very newspaper scandals and police courts of
+to-day. As a picture of untrammelled passion, culpable and corrupt, but
+yet terribly fascinating in her very recklessness and abandon, Miranda
+is indeed a powerful study. Always guilty, she is always excused, or if
+punished but sparingly and little, whilst the friar languishes in a foul
+dungeon, the page-boy is hanged, her husband stands upon the public
+scaffold. And then in the end, ‘very penitent for her life past’, she is
+received with open arms by Tarquin’s old father, who looks upon her as a
+very angel, and retiring to the tranquility of a country-house she
+passes her days in ‘as perfect a state of happiness as this troublesome
+world can afford’.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">70</span>
+
+<h4><a class = "comm" name = "jilt_dedic" id = "jilt_dedic" href =
+"#jilt_comm1">TO</a><br>
+HENRY PAIN, ESQ;</h4>
+
+<p>Sir,</p>
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">Dedications</span> are like Love, and no
+Man of Wit or Eminence escapes them; early or late, the Affliction of
+the Poet’s Complement falls upon him; and Men are oblig’d to receive ’em
+as they do their Wives; <i>For better, for worse</i>; at <ins class =
+"correction" title = "text reads ‘lest’">least</ins> with a feign’d
+Civility.</p>
+
+<p>It was not Want of Respect, but Fear, that has hitherto made us keep
+clear of your Judgment, too piercing to be favourable to what is not
+nicely valuable. We durst not awaken your Criticism; and by begging your
+Protection in the Front of a Book, give you an Occasion to find nothing
+to deserve it. Nor can this little History lay a better Claim to that
+Honour, than those that have not pretended to it; which has but this
+Merit to recommend it, That it is Truth: Truth, which you so much
+admire. But ’tis a Truth that entertains you with so many Accidents
+diverting and moving, that they will need both a Patron, and an Assertor
+in this incredulous World. For however it may be imagin’d that Poetry
+(my&nbsp;Talent) has so greatly the Ascendant over me, that all I write
+must pass for Fiction, I&nbsp;now desire to have it understood that this
+is Reality, and Matter of Fact, and acted in this our latter Age: And
+that in the person of <i>Tarquin</i>, I bring a Prince to kiss your
+Hands, who own’d himself, and was receiv’d, as the last of the Race of
+the <i>Roman</i> Kings; whom I have often seen, and you have heard of;
+and whose Story is so well known to your self, and many Hundreds more:
+Part of which I had from the Mouth of this unhappy great Man, and was an
+Eye-Witness to the rest.</p>
+
+<p>’Tis true, Sir, I present you with a Prince unfortunate, but still
+the more noble Object for your Goodness and Pity; who never valu’d a
+brave Man the less for being unhappy. And whither shou’d the Afflicted
+flee for Refuge but to the Generous? Amongst all the Race, he cannot
+find a better Man, or more certain Friend: Nor amongst all his
+Ancestors, match your greater Soul, and Magnificence of Mind. He will
+behold in one <i>English</i> Subject, a&nbsp;Spirit as illustrious,
+a&nbsp;Heart as fearless, a&nbsp;Wit and Eloquence as excellent, as
+<i>Rome</i> it self cou’d produce. Its Senate scarce boasted of a better
+States-man, nor Augustus of a more faithful Subject; as your
+Imprisonment and Sufferings, through all the Course of our late National
+Distractions, have sufficiently manifested; But nothing cou’d
+<span class = "pagenum">71</span>
+press or deject your great Heart; you were the same Man still, unmov’d
+in all Turns, easie and innocent; no Persecution being able to abate
+your constant good Humour, or wonted Gallantry.</p>
+
+<p>If, Sir, you find here a Prince of less Fortitude and Vertue than
+your self, charge his Miscarriages on Love: a&nbsp;Weakness of that
+Nature you will easily excuse, (being so great a Friend to the Fair;)
+though possibly, he gave a Proof of it too Fatal to his Honour. Had I
+been to have form’d his Character, perhaps I had made him something more
+worthy of the Honour of your Protection: But I was oblig’d to pursue the
+Matter of Fact, and give a just Relation of that part of his Life which,
+possibly, was the only reproachful part of it. If he be so happy, as to
+entertain a Man of Wit and Business, I&nbsp;shall not fear his Welcome
+to the rest of the World: And ’tis only with your Passport he can hope
+to be&nbsp;so.</p>
+
+<p>The particular Obligations I have to your Bounty and Goodness,
+O&nbsp;Noble Friend, and Patron of the <i>Muses</i>! I do not so much as
+pretend to acknowledge in this little Present; those being above the
+Poet’s Pay, which is a sort of Coin, not <ins class = "correction" title
+= "spelling unchanged">currant</ins> in this Age: though perhaps may be
+esteem’d as Medals in the Cabinets of Men of Wit. If this be so happy to
+be of that Number, I&nbsp;desire no more lasting a Fame, that it may
+bear this Inscription, that I&nbsp;am,</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+SIR,<br>
+&emsp;Your most Obliged, and<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; </span>Most Humble Servant,<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; &nbsp; </span><i>A. BEHN</i>.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">72</span>
+
+<h4><a class = "comm" name = "jilt_main" id = "jilt_main" href =
+"#jilt_comm2">
+THE <i>FAIR JILT</i>:</a><br>
+or,<br>
+The Amours of Prince <i>Tarquin</i> and <i>Miranda</i>.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">As</span> Love is the most noble and divine
+Passion of the Soul, so it is that to which we may justly attribute all
+the real Satisfactions of Life; and without it Man is unfinish’d and
+unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>There are a thousand things to be said of the Advantages this
+generous Passion brings to those, whose Hearts are capable of receiving
+its soft Impressions; for ’tis not every one that can be sensible of its
+tender Touches. How many Examples, from History and Observation, could I
+give of its wondrous Power; nay, even to a Degree of Transmigration! How
+many Idiots has it made wise! How many Fools eloquent! How many
+home-bred Squires accomplish’d! How many Cowards brave! And there is no
+sort of Species of Mankind on whom it cannot work some Change and
+Miracle, if it be a noble well-grounded Passion, except on the Fop in
+Fashion, the harden’d incorrigible Fop; so often wounded, but never
+reclaim’d: For still, by a dire Mistake, conducted by vast Opiniatrety,
+and a greater Portion of Self-love, than the rest of the Race of Man, he
+believes that Affectation in his Mein and Dress, that Mathematical
+Movement, that Formality in every Action, that a Face manag’d with Care,
+and soften’d into Ridicule, the languishing Turn, the Toss, and the
+Back-shake of the Periwig, is the direct Way to the Heart of the fine
+Person he adores; and instead of curing Love in his Soul, serves only to
+advance his Folly; and the more
+<span class = "pagenum">73</span>
+he is enamour’d, the more industriously he assumes (every Hour) the
+Coxcomb. These are Love’s Play-things, a&nbsp;sort of Animals with whom
+he sports; and whom he never wounds, but when he is in good Humour, and
+always shoots laughing. ’Tis the Diversion of the little God, to see
+what a Fluttering and Bustle one of these Sparks, new-wounded, makes; to
+what fantastick Fooleries he has Recourse: The Glass is every Moment
+call’d to counsel, the Valet consulted and plagu’d for new Invention of
+Dress, the Footman and <a class = "comm" name = "jilt_commtag3" id =
+"jilt_commtag3" href = "#jilt_comm3">Scrutore</a> perpetually employ’d;
+<i>Billet-doux</i> and <i>Madrigals</i> take up all his Mornings, till
+Play-time in dressing, till Night in gazing; still, like a Sun-flower,
+turn’d towards the Beams of the fair Eyes of his <i>Cælia</i>, adjusting
+himself in the most amorous Posture he can assume, his Hat under his
+Arm, while the other Hand is put carelesly into his Bosom, as if laid
+upon his panting Heart; his Head a little bent to one Side, supported
+with a World of Cravat-string, which he takes mighty Care not to put
+into Disorder; as one may guess by a never-failing and horrid Stiffness
+in his Neck; and if he had any Occasion to look aside, his whole Body
+turns at the same Time, for Fear the Motion of the Head alone should
+incommode the Cravat or Periwig: And sometimes the Glove is well
+manag’d, and the white Hand display’d. Thus, with a thousand other
+little Motions and Formalities, all in the common Place or Road of
+Foppery, he takes infinite Pains to shew himself to the Pit and Boxes,
+a&nbsp;most accomplish’d Ass. This is he, of all human Kind, on whom
+Love can do no Miracles, and who can no where, and upon no Occasion,
+quit one Grain of his refin’d Foppery, unless in a Duel, or a Battle, if
+ever his Stars should be so severe and ill-manner’d, to reduce him to
+the Necessity of either: Fear then would ruffle that fine Form he had so
+long preserv’d in nicest Order, with Grief considering, that an unlucky
+Chance-wound in his Face, if such a dire Misfortune should befal him,
+would spoil the Sale of it for ever.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">74</span>
+<p>Perhaps it will be urg’d, that since no Metamorphosis can be made in
+a Fop by Love, you must consider him one of those that only talks of
+Love, and thinks himself that happy Thing, a&nbsp;Lover; and wanting
+fine Sense enough for the real Passion, believes what he feels to be it.
+There are in the Quiver of the God a great many different Darts; some
+that wound for a Day, and others for a Year; they are all fine, painted,
+glittering Darts, and shew as well as those made of the noblest Metal;
+but the Wounds they make reach the Desire only, and are cur’d by
+possessing, while the short-liv’d Passion betrays the Cheat. But ’tis
+that refin’d and illustrious Passion of the Soul, whose Aim is Virtue,
+and whose end is Honour, that has the Power of changing Nature, and is
+capable of performing all those heroick Things, of which History is
+full.</p>
+
+<p>How far distant Passions may be from one another, I shall be able to
+make appear in these following Rules. I’ll prove to you the strong
+Effects of Love in some unguarded and ungovern’d Hearts; where it rages
+beyond the Inspirations of <i>a God all soft and gentle</i>, and reigns
+more like <i>a Fury from Hell</i>.</p>
+
+<p>I do not pretend here to entertain you with a feign’d Story, or any
+Thing piec’d together with romantick Accidents; but every Circumstance,
+to a Tittle, is Truth. To a great Part of the Main I myself was an
+Eye-witness; and what I did not see, I&nbsp;was confirm’d of by Actors
+in the Intrigue, Holy Men, of the Order of St. <i>Francis</i>: But for
+the Sake of some of her Relations, I&nbsp;shall give my <i>Fair Jilt</i>
+a feign’d Name, that of <i>Miranda</i>; but my Hero must retain his own,
+it being too illustrious to be conceal’d.</p>
+
+<p>You are to understand, that in all the Catholick Countries, where
+Holy Orders are establish’d, there are abundance of differing Kinds of
+Religious, both of Men and Women. Amongst the Women, there are those we
+call <i>Nuns</i>, that make solemn Vows of perpetual Chastity; There are
+others who make but a simple Vow, as for five or ten Years, or
+<span class = "pagenum">75</span>
+more or less; and that time expir’d, they may contract anew for longer
+time, or marry, or dispose of themselves as they shall see good; and
+these are ordinarily call’d <i>Galloping Nuns</i>: Of these there are
+several Orders; as <a class = "comm" name = "jilt_commtag4" id =
+"jilt_commtag4" href = "#jilt_comm4"><i>Canonesses</i>, <i>Begines</i>,
+<i>Quests</i>, <i>Swart-Sisters</i>, and <i>Jesuitesses</i></a>, with
+several others I have forgot. Of those of the <i>Begines</i> was our
+<i>Fair Votress</i>.</p>
+
+<p>These Orders are taken up by the best Persons of the Town, young
+Maids of Fortune, who live together, not inclos’d, but in Palaces that
+will hold about fifteen hundred or two thousand of these <i>Filles
+Devotes</i>; where they have a regulated Government, under a sort of
+<i>Abbess</i>, or <i>Prioress</i>, or rather a <i>Governante</i>. They
+are oblig’d to a Method of Devotion, and are under a sort of Obedience.
+They wear a Habit much like our Widows of Quality in <i>England</i>,
+only without a <i>Bando</i>; and their Veil is of a thicker Crape than
+what we have here, thro’ which one cannot see the Face; for when they go
+abroad, they cover themselves all over with it; but they put ’em up in
+the Churches, and lay ’em by in the Houses. Every one of these have a
+Confessor, who is to ’em a sort of Steward: For, you must know, they
+that go into these Places, have the Management of their own Fortunes,
+and what their Parents design ’em. Without the Advice of this Confessor,
+they act nothing, nor admit of a Lover that he shall not approve; at
+least, this Method ought to be taken, and is by almost all of ’em; tho’
+<i>Miranda</i> thought her Wit above it, as her Spirit was.</p>
+
+<p>But as these Women are, as I said, of the best Quality, and live with
+the Reputation of being retir’d from the World a little more than
+ordinary, and because there is a sort of Difficulty to approach ’em,
+they are the People the most courted, and liable to the greatest
+Temptations; for as difficult as it seems to be, they receive Visits
+from all the Men of the best Quality, especially Strangers. All the Men
+of Wit and Conversation meet at the Apartments of
+<span class = "pagenum">76</span>
+these fair <i>Filles Devotes</i>, where all Manner of Gallantries are
+perform’d, while all the Study of these Maids is to accomplish
+themselves for these noble Conversations. They receive Presents, Balls,
+Serenades, and Billets; All the News, Wit, Verses, Songs, Novels,
+Musick, Gaming, and all fine Diversion, is in their Apartments, they
+themselves being of the best Quality and Fortune. So that to manage
+these Gallantries, there is no sort of Female Arts they are not
+practis’d in, no Intrigue they are ignorant of, and no Management of
+which they are not capable.</p>
+
+<p>Of this happy Number was the fair <i>Miranda</i>, whose Parents being
+dead, and a vast Estate divided between her self and a young Sister,
+(who liv’d with an unmarry’d old Uncle, whose Estate afterwards was all
+divided between ’em) she put her self into this uninclos’d religious
+House; but her Beauty, which had all the Charms that ever Nature gave,
+became the Envy of the whole <i>Sisterhood</i>. She was tall, and
+admirably shaped; she had a bright Hair, and Hazle-Eyes, all full of
+Love and Sweetness: No Art could make a Face so fair as hers by Nature,
+which every Feature adorn’d with a Grace that Imagination cannot reach:
+Every Look, every Motion charm’d, and her black Dress shew’d the Lustre
+of her Face and Neck. She had an Air, though gay as so much Youth could
+inspire, yet so modest, so nobly reserv’d, without Formality, or
+Stiffness, that one who look’d on her would have imagin’d her Soul the
+Twin-Angel of her Body; and both together made her appear something
+divine. To this she had a great deal of Wit, read much, and retain’d all
+that serv’d her Purpose. She sung delicately, and danc’d well, and
+play’d on the Lute to a Miracle. She spoke several Languages naturally;
+for being Co-heiress to so great a Fortune, she was bred with the nicest
+Care, in all the finest Manners <ins class = "correction" title =
+"‘f’ obscure at line-end">of</ins> Education; and was now arriv’d to her
+Eighteenth Year.</p>
+
+<p>’Twere needless to tell you how great a Noise the Fame of this young
+Beauty, with so considerable a Fortune, made
+<span class = "pagenum">77</span>
+in the World: I&nbsp;may say, the World, rather than confine her Fame to
+the scanty Limits of a Town; it reach’d to many others: And there was
+not a Man of any Quality that came to <i>Antwerp</i>, or pass’d thro’
+the City, but made it his Business to see the lovely <i>Miranda</i>, who
+was universally ador’d: Her Youth and Beauty, her Shape, and Majesty of
+Mein, and Air of Greatness, charm’d all her Beholders; and thousands of
+People were dying by her Eyes, while she was vain enough to glory in her
+Conquests, and make it her Business to wound. She lov’d nothing so much
+as to behold sighing Slaves at her Feet, of the greatest Quality; and
+treated them all with an Affability that gave them Hope. Continual
+Musick, as soon as it was dark, and Songs of dying Lovers, were sung
+under her Windows; and she might well have made herself a great Fortune
+(if&nbsp;she had not been so already) by the rich Presents that were
+hourly made her; and every body daily expected when she would make some
+one happy, by suffering her self to be conquer’d by Love and Honour, by
+the Assiduities and Vows of some one of her Adorers. But <i>Miranda</i>
+accepted their Presents, heard their Vows with Pleasure, and willingly
+admitted all their soft Addresses; but would not yield her Heart, or
+give away that lovely Person to the Possession of one, who could please
+it self with so many. She was naturally amorous, but extremely
+inconstant: She lov’d one for his Wit, another for his Face, and a third
+for his Mein; but above all, she admir’d Quality: Quality alone had the
+Power to attach her entirely; yet not to one Man, but that Virtue was
+still admir’d by her in all: Where-ever she found that, she lov’d, or at
+least acted the Lover with such Art, that (deceiving well) she fail’d
+not to compleat her Conquest; and yet she never durst trust her fickle
+Humour with Marriage. She knew the Strength of her own Heart, and that
+it could not suffer itself to be confin’d to one Man, and wisely avoided
+those Inquietudes, and that Uneasiness of Life she was sure to find in
+that married
+<span class = "pagenum">78</span>
+State, which would, against her Nature, oblige her to the Embraces of
+one, whose Humour was, to love all the Young and the Gay. But Love, who
+had hitherto only play’d with her Heart, and given it nought but
+pleasing wanton Wounds, such as afforded only soft Joys, and not Pains,
+resolv’d, either out of Revenge to those Numbers she had abandon’d, and
+who had sigh’d so long in vain, or to try what Power he had upon so
+fickle a Heart, to send an Arrow dipp’d in the most tormenting Flames
+that rage in Hearts most sensible. He struck it home and deep, with all
+the Malice of an angry God.</p>
+
+<p>There was a Church belonging to the <a class = "comm" name =
+"jilt_commtag5" id = "jilt_commtag5" href =
+"#jilt_comm5"><i>Cordeliers</i></a>, whither <i>Miranda</i> often
+repair’d to her Devotion; and being there one Day, accompany’d with a
+young Sister of the Order, after the Mass was ended, as ’tis the Custom,
+some one of the Fathers goes about the Church with a Box for
+Contribution, or Charity-Money: It happen’d that Day, that a young
+Father, newly initiated, carried the Box about, which, in his Turn, he
+brought to <i>Miranda</i>. She had no sooner cast her Eyes on this young
+Friar, but her Face was overspread with Blushes of Surprize: She beheld
+him stedfastly, and saw in his Face all the Charms of Youth, Wit, and
+Beauty; he wanted no one Grace that could form him for Love, he appear’d
+all that is adorable to the Fair Sex, nor could the mis-shapen Habit
+hide from her the lovely Shape it endeavour’d to cover, nor those
+delicate Hands that approach’d her too near with the Box. Besides the
+Beauty of his Face and Shape, he had an Air altogether great, in spite
+of his profess’d Poverty, it betray’d the Man of Quality; and that
+Thought weigh’d greatly with <i>Miranda</i>. But Love, who did not
+design she should now feel any sort of those easy Flames, with which she
+had heretofore burnt, made her soon lay all those Considerations aside,
+which us’d to invite her to love, and now lov’d she knew not why.</p>
+
+<p>She gaz’d upon him, while he bow’d before her, and
+<span class = "pagenum">79</span>
+waited for her Charity, till she perceiv’d the lovely Friar to blush,
+and cast his Eyes to the Ground. This awaken’d her Shame, and she put
+her Hand into her Pocket, and was a good while in searching for her
+Purse, as if she thought of nothing less than what she was about; at
+last she drew it out, and gave him a Pistole; but with so much
+Deliberation and Leisure, as easily betray’d the Satisfaction she took
+in looking on him; while the good Man, having receiv’d her Bounty, after
+a very low Obeysance, proceeded to the rest; and <i>Miranda</i> casting
+after him a Look all languishing, as long as he remain’d in the Church,
+departed with a Sigh as soon as she saw him go out, and returned to her
+Apartment without speaking one Word all the Way to the young <i>Fille
+Devote</i>, who attended her; so absolutely was her Soul employ’d with
+this young Holy Man. <i>Cornelia</i> (so&nbsp;was this Maid call’d who
+was with her) perceiving she was so silent, who us’d to be all Wit and
+good Humour, and observing her little Disorder at the Sight of the young
+Father, tho’ she was far from imagining it to be Love, took an Occasion,
+when she was come home, to speak of him. ‘Madam, <i>said she</i>, did
+you not observe that fine young <i>Cordelier</i>, who brought the Box?’
+At a Question that nam’d that Object of her Thoughts, <i>Miranda</i>
+blush’d; and she finding she did so, redoubled her Confusion, and she
+had scarce Courage enough to say,&mdash;<i>Yes, I&nbsp;did observe
+him</i>: And then, forcing herself to smile a little, continu’d, ‘And I
+wonder’d to see so jolly a young Friar of an Order so severe and
+mortify’d.&mdash;Madam, (<i>reply’d <em>Cornelia</em></i>) when you know
+his <i>Story</i>, you will not wonder.’ <i>Miranda</i>, who was
+impatient to know all that concern’d her new Conqueror, obliged her to
+tell his Story; and <i>Cornelia</i> obey’d, and proceeded.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">80</span>
+<h5><i>The Story of Prince <em>Henrick</em>.</i></h5>
+
+<p>‘You must know, Madam, that this young Holy Man is a Prince of
+<i>Germany</i>, of the House of <span class =
+"dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span>, whose Fate it was, to fall most
+passionately in Love with a fair young Lady, who lov’d him with an
+Ardour equal to what he vow’d her. Sure of her Heart, and wanting only
+the Approbation of her Parents, and his own, which her Quality did not
+suffer him to despair of, he boasted of his Happiness to a young Prince,
+his elder Brother, a&nbsp;Youth amorous and fierce, impatient of Joys,
+and sensible of Beauty, taking Fire with all fair Eyes: He was his
+Father’s Darling, and Delight of his fond Mother; and, by an Ascendant
+over both their Hearts, rul’d their Wills.</p>
+
+<p>‘This young Prince no sooner saw, but lov’d the fair Mistress of his
+Brother; and with an Authority of a Sovereign, rather than the Advice of
+a Friend, warn’d his Brother <i>Henrick</i> (this now young Friar) to
+approach no more this Lady, whom he had seen; and seeing, lov’d.</p>
+
+<p>‘In vain the poor surpriz’d Prince pleads his Right of Love, his
+Exchange of Vows, and Assurance of a Heart that could never be but for
+himself. In vain he urges his Nearness of Blood, his Friendship, his
+Passion, or his Life, which so entirely depended on the Possession of
+the charming Maid. All his Pleading serv’d but to blow his Brother’s
+Flame; and the more he implores, the more the other burns; and while
+<i>Henrick</i> follows him, on his Knees, with humble Submissions, the
+other flies from him in Rages of transported Love; nor could his Tears,
+that pursu’d his Brother’s Steps, move him to Pity: Hot-headed,
+vain-conceited of his Beauty, and greater Quality as elder Brother, he
+doubts not of Success, and resolv’d to sacrifice all to the Violence of
+his new-born Passion.</p>
+
+<p>‘In short, he speaks of his Design to his Mother, who promis’d him
+her Assistance; and accordingly proposing
+<span class = "pagenum">81</span>
+it first to the Prince her Husband, urging the Languishment of her Son,
+she soon wrought so on him, that a Match being concluded between the
+Parents of this young Beauty, and <i>Henrick’s</i> Brother, the Hour was
+appointed before she knew of the Sacrifice she was to be made. And while
+this was in Agitation, <i>Henrick</i> was sent on some great Affairs, up
+into <i>Germany</i>, far out of the Way; not but his boding Heart, with
+perpetual Sighs and Throbs, eternally foretold him his Fate.</p>
+
+<p>‘All the Letters he wrote were intercepted, as well as those she
+wrote to him. She finds herself every Day perplex’d with the Addresses
+of the Prince she hated; he was ever sighing at her Feet. In vain were
+all her reproaches, and all her Coldness, he was on the surer Side; for
+what he found Love would not do, Force of Parents would.</p>
+
+<p><ins class = "correction" title = "open quote missing">‘She</ins>
+complains, in her Heart, of young <i>Henrick</i>, from whom she could
+never receive one Letter; and at last could not forbear bursting into
+Tears, in spite of all her Force, and feign’d Courage, when, on a Day,
+the Prince told her, that <i>Henrick</i> was withdrawn to give him Time
+to court her; to whom he said, he confess’d he had made some Vows, but
+did repent of ’em, knowing himself too young to make ’em good: That it
+was for that Reason he brought him first to see her; and for that
+Reason, that after that, he never saw her more, nor so much as took
+Leave of her; when, indeed, his Death lay upon the next Visit, his
+Brother having sworn to murder him; and to that End, put a Guard upon
+him, till he was sent into <i>Germany</i>.</p>
+
+<p>‘All this he utter’d with so many passionate Asseverations, Vows, and
+seeming Pity for her being so inhumanly abandon’d, that she almost gave
+Credit to all he had said, and had much ado to keep herself within the
+Bounds of Moderation, and silent Grief. Her Heart was breaking, her Eyes
+languish’d, and her Cheeks grew pale, and she had like to have fallen
+dead into the treacherous Arms of him that had reduc’d her to this
+Discovery; but she did
+<span class = "pagenum">82</span>
+what she could to assume her Courage, and to shew as little Resentment
+as possible for a Heart, like hers, oppress’d with Love, and now
+abandon’d by the dear Subject of its Joys and Pains.</p>
+
+<p>‘But, Madam, not to tire you with this Adventure, the Day arriv’d
+wherein our still weeping Fair Unfortunate was to be sacrific’d to the
+Capriciousness of Love; and she was carry’d to Court by her Parents,
+without knowing to what End, where she was even compell’d to marry the
+Prince.</p>
+
+<p>‘<i>Henrick</i>, who all this While knew no more of his Unhappiness,
+than what his Fears suggested, returns, and passes even to the Presence
+of his Father, before he knew any Thing of his Fortune; where he beheld
+his Mistress and his Brother, with his Father, in such a Familiarity, as
+he no longer doubted his Destiny. ’Tis hard to judge, whether the Lady,
+or himself, was most surpriz’d; she was all pale and unmoveable in her
+Chair, and <i>Henrick</i> fix’d like a Statue; at last Grief and Rage
+took Place of Amazement, and he could not forbear crying out, <i>Ah,
+Traytor! Is it thus you have treated a Friend and Brother? And you,
+O&nbsp;perjur’d Charmer! Is it thus you have rewarded all my Vows?</i>
+He could say no more; but reeling against the Door, had fallen in a
+Swoon upon the Floor, had not his Page caught him in his Arms, who was
+entring with him. The good old Prince, the Father, who knew not what all
+this meant, was soon inform’d by the young weeping Princess; who, in
+relating the Story of her Amour with <i>Henrick</i>, told her Tale in so
+moving a Manner, as brought Tears to the Old Man’s Eyes, and Rage to
+those of her Husband; he immediately grew jealous to the last Degree: He
+finds himself in Possession (’tis true) of the Beauty he ador’d, but the
+Beauty adoring another; a&nbsp;Prince young and charming as the Light,
+soft, witty, and raging with an equal Passion. He finds this dreaded
+Rival in the same House with him, with an Authority equal to his own;
+and
+<span class = "pagenum">83</span>
+fancies, where two Hearts are so entirely agreed, and have so good an
+Understanding, it would not be impossible to find Opportunities to
+satisfy and ease that mutual Flame, that burnt so equally in both; he
+therefore resolved to send him out of the World, and to establish his
+own Repose by a Deed, wicked, cruel, and unnatural, to have him
+assassinated the first Opportunity he could find. This Resolution set
+him a little at Ease, and he strove to dissemble Kindness to
+<i>Henrick</i>, with all the Art he was capable of, suffering him to
+come often to the Apartment of the Princess, and to entertain her
+oftentimes with Discourse, when he was not near enough to hear what he
+spoke; but still watching their Eyes, he found those of <i>Henrick</i>
+full of Tears, ready to flow, but restrain’d, looking all dying, and yet
+reproaching, while those of the Princess were ever bent to the Earth,
+and she as much as possible, shunning his Conversation. Yet this did not
+satisfy the jealous Husband; ’twas not her Complaisance that could
+appease him; he found her Heart was panting within, whenever
+<i>Henrick</i> approach’d her, and every Visit more and more confirmed
+his Death.</p>
+
+<p>‘The Father often found the Disorders of the Sons; the Softness and
+Address of the one gave him as much Fear, as the angry Blushings, the
+fierce Looks, and broken Replies of the other, whenever he beheld
+<i>Henrick</i> approach his Wife; so that the Father, fearing some ill
+Consequence of this, besought <i>Henrick</i> to withdraw to some other
+Country, or travel into <i>Italy</i>, he being now of an Age that
+required a View of the World. He told his Father, That he would obey his
+Commands, tho’ he was certain, that Moment he was to be separated from
+the Sight of the fair Princess, his Sister, would be the last of his
+Life; and, in fine, made so pitiful a Story of his suffering Love, as
+almost moved the old Prince to compassionate him so far, as to permit
+him to stay; but he saw inevitable Danger in that, and therefore bid him
+prepare for his Journey.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">84</span>
+<p>‘That which pass’d between the Father and <i>Henrick</i>, being a
+Secret, none talked of his departing from Court; so that the Design the
+Brother had went on; and making a Hunting-Match one Day, where most
+young People of Quality were, he order’d some whom he had hired to
+follow his Brother, so as if he chanced to go out of the Way, to
+dispatch him; and accordingly, Fortune gave ’em an Opportunity; for he
+lagg’d behind the Company, and turn’d aside into a pleasant Thicket of
+Hazles, where alighting, he walk’d on Foot in the most pleasant Part of
+it, full of Thought, how to divide his Soul between Love and Obedience.
+He was sensible that he ought not to stay; that he was but an Affliction
+to the young Princess, whose Honour could never permit her to ease any
+Part of his Flame; nor was he so vicious to entertain a Thought that
+should stain her Virtue. He beheld her now as his Brother’s Wife, and
+that secured his Flame from all loose Desires, if her native Modesty had
+not been sufficient <ins class = "correction" title =
+"‘f’ obscure at line-end">of</ins> itself to have done it, as well as that profound
+Respect he paid her; and he consider’d, in obeying his Father, he left
+her at Ease, and his Brother freed of a thousand Fears; he went to seek
+a Cure, which if he could not find, at last he could but die; and so he
+must, even at her Feet: However, that it was more noble to seek a Remedy
+for his Disease, than expect a certain Death by staying. After a
+thousand Reflections on his hard Fate, and bemoaning himself, and
+blaming his cruel Stars, that had doom’d him to die so young, after an
+Infinity of Sighs and Tears, Resolvings and Unresolvings, he, on the
+sudden, was interrupted by the trampling of some Horses he heard, and
+their rushing through the Boughs, and saw four Men make towards him: He
+had not time to mount, being walk’d some Paces from his Horse. One of
+the Men advanced, and cry’d, <i>Prince, you must die</i>&mdash;<i>I do
+believe thee</i>, (reply’d <i>Henrick</i>) <i>but not by a Hand so base
+as thine</i>: And at the same Time drawing his Sword, run him into the
+Groin.
+<span class = "pagenum">85</span>
+When the Fellow found himself so wounded, he wheel’d off and cry’d,
+<i>Thou art a Prophet, and hast rewarded my Treachery with Death.</i>
+The rest came up, and one shot at the Prince, and shot him in the
+Shoulder; the other two hastily laying hold (but too late) on the Hand
+of the Murderer, cry’d, <i>Hold, Traytor; we relent, and he shall not
+die.</i> He reply’d, <i>’Tis too late, he is shot; and see, he lies
+dead. Let us provide for ourselves, and tell the Prince, we have done
+the Work; for you are as guilty as I am.</i> At that they all fled, and
+left the Prince lying under a Tree, weltering in his Blood.</p>
+
+<p>‘About the Evening, the Forester going his Walks, saw the Horse,
+richly caparison’d, without a Rider, at the Entrance of the Wood; and
+going farther, to see if he could find its Owner, found there the Prince
+almost dead; he immediately mounts him on the Horse, and himself behind,
+bore him up, and carry’d him to the Lodge; where he had only one old
+Man, his Father, well skilled in Surgery, and a Boy. They put him to
+Bed; and the old Forester, with what Art he had, dress’d his Wounds, and
+in the Morning sent for an abler Surgeon, to whom the Prince enjoin’d
+Secrecy, because he knew him. The Man was faithful, and the Prince in
+Time was recover’d of his Wound; and as soon as he was well, he came to
+<i>Flanders</i>, in the Habit of a Pilgrim, and after some Time took the
+Order of St. <i>Francis</i>, none knowing what became of him, till he
+was profess’d; and then he wrote his own Story to the Prince his Father,
+to his Mistress, and his ungrateful Brother. The young Princess did not
+long survive his Loss, she languished from the Moment of his Departure;
+and he had this to confirm his devout Life, to know she dy’d for
+him.</p>
+
+<p>‘My Brother, Madam, was an Officer under the Prince his Father, and
+knew his Story perfectly well; from whose Mouth I had it<ins class =
+"correction" title = "close quote missing">.’&nbsp;</ins></p>
+
+<p><i>What!</i> (reply’d <i>Miranda</i> then) <i>is Father
+<em>Henrick</em> a Man of Quality</i>? <i>Yes, Madam</i>, (said
+<i>Cornelia</i>) <i>and has
+<span class = "pagenum">86</span>
+changed his Name to <em>Francisco</em>.</i> But <i>Miranda</i>, fearing
+to betray the Sentiments of her Heart, by asking any more Questions
+about him, turned the Discourse; and some Persons of Quality came in to
+visit her (for her Apartment was about six o’Clock, like the
+Presence-Chamber of a Queen, always filled with the greatest People):
+There meet all the <i>Beaux Esprits</i>, and all the Beauties. But it
+was visible <i>Miranda</i> was not so gay as she used to be; but
+pensive, and answering <i>mal a propos</i> to all that was said to her.
+She was a thousand times going to speak, against her Will, something of
+the charming Friar, who was never from her Thoughts; and she imagined,
+if he could inspire Love in a coarse, grey, ill-made Habit, a&nbsp;shorn
+Crown, a&nbsp;Hair-cord about his Waist, bare-legg’d, in Sandals instead
+of Shoes; what must he do, when looking back on Time, she beholds him in
+a Prospect of Glory, with all that Youth, and illustrious Beauty, set
+off by the Advantage of Dress and Equipage? She frames an Idea of him
+all gay and splendid, and looks on his present Habit as some Disguise
+proper for the Stealths of Love; some feigned put-on Shape, with the
+more Security to approach a Mistress, and make himself happy; and that
+the Robe laid by, she has the Lover in his proper Beauty, the same he
+would have been, if any other Habit (though ever so rich) were put off:
+In the Bed, the silent gloomy Night, and the soft Embraces of her Arms,
+he loses all the Friar, and assumes all the Prince; and that aweful
+Reverence, due alone to his Holy Habit, he exchanges for a thousand
+Dalliances, for which his Youth was made; for Love, for tender Embraces,
+and all the Happiness of Life. Some Moments she fancies him a Lover, and
+that the fair Object that takes up all his Heart, has left no Room for
+her there; but that was a Thought that did not long perplex her, and
+which, almost as soon as born, she turned to her Advantage. She beholds
+him a Lover, and therefore finds he has a Heart sensible and tender; he
+had Youth to be fir’d, as well as
+<span class = "pagenum">87</span>
+to inspire; he was far from the loved Object, and totally without Hope;
+and she reasonably consider’d, that Flame would of itself soon die, that
+had only Despair to feed on. She beheld her own Charms; and Experience,
+as well as her Glass, told her, they never failed of Conquest,
+especially where they designed it: And she believed <i>Henrick</i> would
+be glad, at least, to quench that Flame in himself, by an Amour with
+her, which was kindled by the young Princess of <span class =
+"dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span> his Sister.</p>
+
+<p>These, and a thousand other Self-flatteries, all vain and indiscreet,
+took up her waking Nights, and now more retired Days; while Love, to
+make her truly wretched, suffered her to sooth herself with fond
+Imaginations; not so much as permitting her Reason to plead one Moment
+to save her from undoing: She would not suffer it to tell her, he had
+taken Holy Orders, made sacred and solemn Vows of everlasting Chastity,
+that it was impossible he could marry her, or lay before her any
+Argument that might prevent her Ruin; but Love, mad malicious Love, was
+always called to Counsel, and, like easy Monarchs, she had no Ears, but
+for Flatterers.</p>
+
+<p>Well then, she is resolv’d to love, without considering to what End,
+and what must be the Consequence of such an Amour. She now miss’d no Day
+of being at that little Church, where she had the Happiness, or rather
+the Misfortune (so&nbsp;Love ordained) to see this Ravisher of her Heart
+and Soul; and every Day she took new Fire from his lovely Eyes.
+Unawares, unknown, and unwillingly, he gave her Wounds, and the
+Difficulty of her Cure made her rage the more: She burnt, she
+languished, and died for the young Innocent, who knew not he was the
+Author of so much Mischief.</p>
+
+<p>Now she resolves a thousand Ways in her tortur’d Mind, to let him
+know her Anguish, and at last pitch’d upon that of writing to him soft
+Billets, which she had learn’d the Art of doing; or if she had not, she
+had now Fire
+<span class = "pagenum">88</span>
+enough to inspire her with all that could charm and move. These she
+deliver’d to a young Wench, who waited on her, and whom she had entirely
+subdu’d to her Interest, to give to a certain Lay-Brother of the Order,
+who was a very simple harmless Wretch, and who served in the Kitchen, in
+the Nature of a Cook, in the Monastery of <i>Cordeliers</i>. She gave
+him Gold to secure his Faith and Service; and not knowing from whence
+they came (with so good Credentials) he undertook to deliver the Letters
+to Father <i>Francisco</i>; which Letters were all afterwards, as you
+shall hear, produced in open Court. These Letters failed not to come
+every Day; and the Sense of the first was, to tell him, that a very
+beautiful young Lady, of a great Fortune, was in love with him, without
+naming her; but it came as from a third Person, to let him know the
+Secret, that she desir’d he would let her know whether she might hope
+any Return from him; assuring him, he needed but only see the fair
+Languisher, to confess himself her Slave.</p>
+
+<p>This Letter being deliver’d him, he read by himself, and was
+surpriz’d to receive Words of this Nature, being so great a Stranger in
+that Place; and could not imagine or would not give himself the Trouble
+of guessing who this should be, because he never designed to make
+Returns.</p>
+
+<p>The next Day, <i>Miranda</i>, finding no Advantage from her Messenger
+of Love, in the Evening sends another (impatient of Delay) confessing
+that she who suffer’d the Shame of writing and imploring, was the Person
+herself who ador’d him. ’Twas there her raging Love made her say all
+Things that discover’d the Nature of its Flame, and propose to flee with
+him to any Part of the World, if he would quit the Convent; that she had
+a Fortune considerable enough to make him happy; and that his Youth and
+Quality were not given him to so unprofitable an End as to lose
+themselves in a Convent, where Poverty and Ease was all the Business. In
+fine, she leaves nothing unurg’d that might debauch and invite him; not
+forgetting
+<span class = "pagenum">89</span>
+to send him her own Character of Beauty, and left him to judge of her
+Wit and Spirit by her Writing, and her Love by the Extremity of Passion
+she profess’d. To all which the lovely Friar made no Return, as
+believing a gentle Capitulation or Exhortation to her would but inflame
+her the more, and give new Occasions for her continuing to write. All
+her Reasonings, false and vicious, he despis’d, pity’d the Error of her
+Love, and was Proof against all she could plead. Yet
+notwith&shy;standing his Silence, which left her in Doubt, and more
+tormented her, she ceas’d not to pursue him with her Letters, varying
+her Style; sometimes all wanton, loose and raving; sometimes feigning a
+Virgin-Modesty all over, accusing her self, blaming her Conduct, and
+sighing her Destiny, as one compell’d to the shameful Discovery by the
+Austerity of his Vow and Habit, asking his Pity and Forgiveness; urging
+him in Charity to use his Fatherly Care to persuade and reason with her
+wild Desires, and by his Counsel drive the God from her Heart, whose
+Tyranny was worse than that of a Fiend; and he did not know what his
+pious Advice might do. But still she writes in vain, in vain she varies
+her Style, by a Cunning, peculiar to a Maid possess’d with such a sort
+of Passion.</p>
+
+<p>This cold Neglect was still Oil to the burning Lamp, and she tries
+yet more Arts, which for want of right Thinking were as fruitless. She
+has Recourse to Presents; her Letters came loaded with Rings of great
+Price, and Jewels, which Fops of Quality had given her. Many of this
+Sort he receiv’d, before he knew where to return ’em, or how; and on
+this Occasion alone he sent her a Letter, and restor’d her Trifles, as
+he call’d them: But his Habit having not made him forget his Quality and
+Education, he wrote to her with all the profound Respect imaginable;
+believing by her Presents, and the Liberality with which she parted with
+’em, that she was of Quality. But the whole Letter, as he told me
+afterwards, was to persuade
+<span class = "pagenum">90</span>
+her from the Honour she did him, by loving him; urging a thousand
+Reasons, solid and pious, and assuring her, he had wholly devoted the
+rest of his Days to Heaven, and had no Need of those gay Trifles she had
+sent him, which were only fit to adorn Ladies so fair as herself, and
+who had Business with this glittering World, which he disdain’d, and had
+for ever abandon’d. He sent her a thousand Blessings, and told her, she
+should be ever in his Prayers, tho’ not in his Heart, as she desir’d:
+And abundance of Goodness more he express’d, and Counsel he gave her,
+which had the same Effect with his Silence; it made her love but the
+more, and the more impatient she grew. She now had a new Occasion to
+write, she now is charm’d with his Wit; this was the new Subject. She
+rallies his Resolution, and endeavours to re-call him to the World, by
+all the Arguments that human Invention is capable&nbsp;of.</p>
+
+<p>But when she had above four Months languish’d thus in vain, not
+missing one Day, wherein she went not to see him, without discovering
+herself to him; she resolv’d, as her last Effort, to shew her Person,
+and see what that, assisted by her Tears, and soft Words from her Mouth,
+could do, to prevail upon him.</p>
+
+<p>It happen’d to be on the Eve of that Day when she was to receive the
+Sacrament, that she, covering herself with her Veil, came to
+<i>Vespers</i>, purposing to make Choice of the conquering Friar for her
+Confessor.</p>
+
+<p>She approach’d him; and as she did so, she trembled with Love. At
+last she cry’d, <i>Father, my Confessor is gone for some Time from the
+Town, and I am obliged To-morrow to receive, and beg you will be pleas’d
+to take my Confession.</i></p>
+
+<p>He could not refuse her; and let her into the <i>Sacristy</i>, where
+there is a Confession-Chair, in which he seated himself; and on one Side
+of him she kneel’d down, over-against a little Altar, where the Priests
+Robes lye, on which were plac’d some lighted Wax-Candles, that made the
+<span class = "pagenum">91</span>
+little Place very light and splendid, which shone full upon
+<i>Miranda</i>.</p>
+
+<p>After the little Preparation usual in Confession, she turn’d up her
+Veil, and discover’d to his View the most wondrous Object of Beauty he
+had ever seen, dress’d in all the Glory of a young Bride; her Hair and
+Stomacher full of Diamonds, that gave a Lustre all dazling to her
+brighter Face and Eyes. He was surpriz’d at her amazing Beauty, and
+question’d whether he saw a Woman, or an Angel at his Feet. Her Hands,
+which were elevated, as if in Prayer, seem’d to be form’d of polish’d
+Alabaster; and he confess’d, he had never seen any Thing in Nature so
+perfect and so admirable.</p>
+
+<p>He had some Pain to compose himself to hear her Confession, and was
+oblig’d to turn away his Eyes, that his Mind might not be perplex’d with
+an Object so diverting; when <i>Miranda</i>, opening the finest Mouth in
+the World, and discovering new Charms, began her Confession.</p>
+
+<p>‘Holy Father (<i>said she</i>) amongst the Number of my vile
+Offences, that which afflicts me to the greatest Degree, is, that I am
+in love: Not (<i>continued she</i>) that I believe simple and virtuous
+Love a Sin, when ’tis plac’d on an Object proper and suitable; but, my
+dear Father, (<i>said she, and wept</i>) I love with a Violence which
+cannot be contain’d within the Bounds of Reason, Moderation, or Virtue.
+I&nbsp;love a Man whom I cannot possess without a Crime, and a Man who
+cannot make me happy without being perjur’d. Is he marry’d? (<i>reply’d
+the Father.</i>) No; (<i>answer’d <em>Miranda</em>.</i>) Are you so?
+(<i>continued&nbsp;he.</i>) Neither, (<i>said she.</i>) Is he too near
+ally’d to you? (<i>said <em>Francisco</em>:</i>) a&nbsp;Brother, or
+Relation? Neither of these, (<i>said she.</i>) He is unenjoy’d,
+unpromis’d; and so am I: Nothing opposes our Happiness, or makes my Love
+a Vice, but you&mdash;’Tis you deny me Life: ’Tis you that forbid my
+Flame: ’Tis you will have me die, and seek my Remedy in my Grave, when I
+complain of Tortures, Wounds, and Flames.
+<span class = "pagenum">92</span>
+O&nbsp;cruel Charmer! ’tis for you I languish; and here, at your Feet,
+implore that Pity, which all my Addresses have fail’d of procuring
+me.’&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>With that, perceiving he was about to rise from his Seat, she held
+him by his Habit, and vow’d she would in that Posture follow him,
+where-ever he flew from her. She elevated her Voice so loud, he was
+afraid she might be heard, and therefore suffer’d her to force him into
+his Chair again; where being seated, he began, in the most passionate
+Terms imaginable, to dissuade her; but finding she the more persisted in
+Eagerness of Passion, he us’d all the tender Assurance that he could
+force from himself, that he would have for her all the Respect, Esteem
+and Friendship that he was capable of paying; that he had a real
+Compassion for her: and at last she prevail’d so far with him, by her
+Sighs and Tears, as to own he had a Tenderness for her, and that he
+could not behold so many Charms, without being sensibly touch’d by ’em,
+and finding all those Effects, that a Maid so fair and young causes in
+the Souls of Men of Youth and Sense: But that, as he was assured, he
+could never be so happy to marry her, and as certain he could not grant
+any Thing but honourable Passion, he humbly besought her not to expect
+more from him than such. And then began to tell her how short Life was,
+and transitory its Joys; how soon she would grow weary of Vice, and how
+often change to find real Repose in it, but never arrive to it. He made
+an End, by new Assurance of his eternal Friendship, but utterly forbad
+her to hope.</p>
+
+<p>Behold her now deny’d, refus’d and defeated, with all her pleading
+Youth, Beauty, Tears, and Knees, imploring, as she lay, holding fast his
+<i>Scapular</i>, and embracing his Feet. What shall she do? She swells
+with Pride, Love, Indignation and Desire; her burning Heart is bursting
+with Despair, her Eyes grow fierce, and from Grief she rises to a Storm;
+and in her Agony of Passion, with Looks
+<span class = "pagenum">93</span>
+all disdainful, haughty, and full of Rage, she began to revile him, as
+the poorest of Animals; tells him his Soul was dwindled to the Meanness
+of his Habit, and his Vows of Poverty were suited to his degenerate
+Mind. ‘And (<i>said she</i>) since all my nobler Ways have fail’d me;
+and that, for a little Hypocritical Devotion, you resolve to lose the
+greatest Blessings of Life, and to sacrifice me to your Religious Pride
+and Vanity, I&nbsp;will either force you to abandon that dull
+Dissimulation, or you shall die, to prove your Sanctity real. Therefore
+answer me immediately, answer my Flame, my raging Fire, which your Eyes
+have kindled; or here, in this very Moment, I&nbsp;will ruin thee; and
+make no Scruple of revenging the Pains I suffer, by that which shall
+take away your Life and Honour.’</p>
+
+<p>The trembling young Man, who, all this While, with extreme Anguish of
+Mind, and Fear of the dire Result, had listen’d to her Ravings, full of
+Dread, demanded what she would have him do? When she reply’d&mdash;‘Do
+that which thy Youth and Beauty were ordain’d to do:&mdash;this Place is
+private, a&nbsp;sacred Silence reigns here, and no one dares to pry into
+the Secrets of this Holy Place: We are as secure from Fears and
+Interruption, as in Desarts uninhabited, or Caves forsaken by wild
+Beasts. The Tapers too shall veil their Lights, and only that glimmering
+Lamp shall be Witness of our dear Stealths of Love&mdash;Come to my
+Arms, my trembling, longing Arms; and curse the Folly of thy Bigotry,
+that has made thee so long lose a Blessing, for which so many Princes
+sigh in vain.’</p>
+
+<p>At these Words she rose from his Feet, and snatching him in her Arms,
+he could not defend himself from receiving a thousand Kisses from the
+lovely Mouth of the charming Wanton; after which, she ran herself, and
+in an Instant put out the Candles. But he cry’d to her, ‘In vain,
+O&nbsp;too indiscreet Fair One, in vain you put out the Light; for
+Heaven still has Eyes, and will look down upon my broken Vows.
+I&nbsp;own your Power, I&nbsp;own I have all the
+<span class = "pagenum">94</span>
+Sense in the World of your charming Touches; I&nbsp;am frail Flesh and
+Blood, but&mdash;yet&mdash;yet I can resist; and I prefer my Vows to all
+your powerful Temptations.&mdash;I&nbsp;will be deaf and blind, and
+guard my Heart with Walls of Ice, and make you know, that when the
+Flames of true Devotion are kindled in a Heart, it puts out all other
+Fires; which are as ineffectual, as Candles lighted in the Face of the
+Sun.&mdash;Go, vain Wanton, and repent, and mortify that Blood which has
+so shamefully betray’d thee, and which will one Day ruin both thy Soul
+and Body.’&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>At these Words <i>Miranda</i>, more enrag’d, the nearer she imagin’d
+her self to Happiness, made no Reply; but throwing her self, in that
+Instant, into the Confessing-Chair, and violently pulling the young
+Friar into her Lap, she elevated her Voice to such a Degree, in crying
+out, <i>Help, Help! A&nbsp;Rape! Help, Help!</i> that she was heard all
+over the Church, which was full of People at the Evening’s Devotion; who
+flock’d about the Door of the <i>Sacristy</i>, which was shut with a
+Spring-Lock on the Inside, but they durst not open the Door.</p>
+
+<p>’Tis easily to be imagin’d, in what Condition our young Friar was, at
+this last devilish Stratagem of his wicked Mistress. He strove to break
+from those Arms that held him so fast; and his Bustling to get away, and
+her’s to retain him, disorder’d her Hair and Habit to such a Degree, as
+gave the more Credit to her false Accusation.</p>
+
+<p>The Fathers had a Door on the other Side, by which they usually
+enter’d, to dress in this little Room; and at the Report that was in an
+Instant made ’em, they hasted thither, and found <i>Miranda</i> and the
+good Father very indecently struggling; which they mis-interpreted, as
+<i>Miranda</i> desir’d; who, all in Tears, immediately threw her self at
+the Feet of the Provincial, who was one of those that enter’d; and
+cry’d, ‘O&nbsp;holy Father! revenge an innocent Maid, undone and lost to
+Fame and Honour, by that vile Monster, born of Goats, nurs’d by Tygers,
+<span class = "pagenum">95</span>
+and bred up on savage Mountains, where Humanity and Religion are
+Strangers. For, O&nbsp;holy Father, could it have enter’d into the Heart
+of Man, to have done so barbarous and horrid a Deed, as to attempt the
+Virgin-Honour of an unspotted Maid, and one of my Degree, even in the
+Moment of my Confession, in that holy Time, when I was prostrate before
+him and Heaven, confessing those Sins that press’d my tender Conscience;
+even then to load my Soul with the blackest of Infamies, to add to my
+Number a Weight that must sink me to Hell? Alas! under the Security of
+his innocent Looks, his holy Habit, and his aweful Function, I&nbsp;was
+led into this Room to make my Confession; where, he locking the Door,
+I&nbsp;had no sooner began, but he gazing on me, took fire at my fatal
+Beauty; and starting up, put out the Candles and caught me in his Arms;
+and raising me from the Pavement, set me in the Confession-Chair; and
+then&mdash;Oh, spare me the rest.’</p>
+
+<p>With that a Shower of Tears burst from her fair dissembling Eyes, and
+Sobs so naturally acted, and so well manag’d, as left no doubt upon the
+good Men, but all she had spoken was Truth.</p>
+
+<p>‘&mdash;At first, (<i>proceeded she</i>) I was unwilling to bring so
+great a Scandal on his Order, to cry out; but struggled as long as I had
+Breath; pleaded the Heinousness of the Crime, urging my Quality, and the
+Danger of the Attempt. But he, deaf as the Winds, and ruffling as a
+Storm, pursu’d his wild Design with so much Force and Insolence, as I at
+last, unable to resist, was wholly vanquish’d, robb’d of my native
+Purity. With what Life and Breath I had, I&nbsp;call’d for Assistance,
+both from Men and Heaven; but oh, alas! your Succours came too
+late:&mdash;You find me here a wretched, undone, and ravish’d Maid.
+Revenge me, Fathers; revenge me on the perfidious Hypocrite, or else
+give me a Death that may secure your Cruelty and Injustice from ever
+being proclaim’d over the World; or my
+<span class = "pagenum">96</span>
+Tongue will be eternally reproaching you, and cursing the wicked Author
+of my Infamy.’</p>
+
+<p>She ended as she began, with a thousand Sighs and Tears; and received
+from the Provincial all Assurances of Revenge.</p>
+
+<p>The innocent betray’d Victim, all the while she was speaking, heard
+her with an Astonishment that may easily be imagined; yet shew’d no
+extravagant Signs of it, as those would do, who feign it, to be thought
+innocent; but being really so, he bore with an humble, modest, and
+blushing Countenance, all her Accusations; which silent Shame they
+mistook for evident Signs of his Guilt.</p>
+
+<p>When the Provincial demanded, with an unwonted Severity in his Eyes
+and Voice, what he could answer for himself? calling him Profaner of his
+Sacred Vows, and Infamy to the Holy Order; the injur’d, but innocently
+accus’d, only reply’d: ‘May Heaven forgive that bad Woman, and bring her
+to Repentance! For his Part, he was not so much in Love with Life, as to
+use many arguments to justify his Innocence; unless it were to free that
+Order from a Scandal, of which he had the Honour to be profess’d. But as
+for himself, Life or Death were Things indifferent to him, who heartily
+despis’d the World.’</p>
+
+<p>He said no more, and suffer’d himself to be led before the
+Magistrate; who committed him to Prison, upon the Accusation of this
+implacable Beauty; who, with so much feign’d Sorrow, prosecuted the
+Matter, even to his Tryal and Condemnation; where he refus’d to make any
+great Defence for himself. But being daily visited by all the Religious,
+both of his own and other Orders, they oblig’d him (some of ’em knowing
+the Austerity of his Life, others his Cause of Griefs that first brought
+him into Orders, and others pretending a nearer Knowledge, even of his
+Soul it self) to stand upon his Justification, and discover what he knew
+of that wicked Woman; whose Life had not been so exemplary for Virtue,
+not to have given the World a thousand Suspicions of her Lewdness and
+Prostitutions.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">97</span>
+<p>The daily Importunities of these Fathers made him produce her
+Letters: But as he had all the Gown-men on his Side, she had all the
+Hats and Feathers on her’s; all the Men of Quality taking her Part, and
+all the Church-men his. They heard his daily Protestations and Vows, but
+not a Word of what passed at Confession was yet discover’d: He held that
+as a Secret sacred on his Part; and what was said in Nature of a
+Confession, was not to be revealed, though his Life depended on the
+Discovery. But as to the Letters, they were forc’d from him, and
+expos’d; however, Matters were carry’d with so high a Hand against him,
+that they serv’d for no Proof at all of his Innocence, and he was at
+last condemn’d to be burn’d at the Market-Place.</p>
+
+<p>After his Sentence was pass’d, the whole Body of Priests made their
+Addresses to the Marquis <i>Castel Roderigo</i>, the then Governor of
+<i>Flanders</i>, for a Reprieve; which, after much ado, was granted him
+for some Weeks, but with an absolute Denial of Pardon: So prevailing
+were the young Cavaliers of his Court, who were all Adorers of this Fair
+Jilt.</p>
+
+<p>About this time, while the poor innocent young <i>Henrick</i> was
+thus languishing in Prison, in a dark and dismal Dungeon, and
+<i>Miranda</i>, cured of her Love, was triumphing in her Revenge,
+expecting and daily giving new Conquests; and who, by this time, had
+re-assum’d all her wonted Gaiety; there was a great Noise about the
+Town, that a Prince of mighty Name, and fam’d for all the Excellencies
+of his Sex, was arriv’d; a&nbsp;Prince young, and gloriously attended,
+call’d Prince <i>Tarquin</i>.</p>
+
+<p>We had often heard of this great Man, and that he was making his
+Travels in <i>France</i> and <i>Germany</i>: And we had also heard, that
+some Years before, he being about Eighteen Years of Age, in the Time
+when our King <i>Charles</i>, of blessed Memory, was in <i>Brussels</i>,
+in the last Year of his Banishment, that all on a sudden, this young Man
+rose up upon ’em like the Sun, all glorious and dazling, demanding
+<span class = "pagenum">98</span>
+Place of all the Princes in that Court. And when his Pretence was
+demanded, he own’d himself Prince <i>Tarquin</i>, of the Race of the
+last Kings of <i>Rome</i>, made good his Title, and took his Place
+accordingly. After that he travell’d for about six Years up and down the
+World, and then arriv’d at <i>Antwerp</i>, about the Time of my being
+sent thither by King <i>Charles</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps there could be nothing seen so magnificent as this Prince: He
+was, as I said, extremely handsome, from Head to Foot exactly form’d,
+and he wanted nothing that might adorn that native Beauty to the best
+Advantage. His Parts were suitable to the rest: He had an Accomplishment
+fit for a Prince, an Air haughty, but a Carriage affable, easy in
+Conversation, and very entertaining, liberal and good-natur’d, brave and
+inoffensive. I&nbsp;have seen him pass the Streets with twelve Footmen,
+and four Pages; the Pages all in green Velvet Coats lac’d with Gold, and
+white Velvet Tunicks; the Men in Cloth, richly lac’d with Gold; his
+Coaches, and all other Officers, suitable to a great Man.</p>
+
+<p>He was all the Discourse of the Town; some laughing at his Title,
+others reverencing it: Some cry’d, that he was an Imposter; others, that
+he had made his Title as plain, as if <i>Tarquin</i> had reign’d but a
+Year ago. Some made Friendships with him, others would have nothing to
+say to him: But all wonder’d where his Revenue was, that supported this
+Grandeur; and believ’d, tho’ he could make his Descent from the
+<i>Roman</i> Kings very well out, that he could not lay so good a Claim
+to the <i>Roman</i> Land. Thus every body meddled with what they had
+nothing to do; and, as in other Places, thought themselves on the surer
+Side, if, in these doubtful Cases, they imagin’d the worst.</p>
+
+<p>But the Men might be of what Opinion they pleas’d concerning him; the
+Ladies were all agreed that he was a Prince, and a young handsome
+Prince, and a Prince not
+<span class = "pagenum">99</span>
+to be resisted: He had all their Wishes, all their Eyes, and all their
+Hearts. They now dress’d only for him; and what Church he grac’d, was
+sure, that Day, to have the Beauties, and all that thought
+themselves&nbsp;so.</p>
+
+<p>You may believe, our amorous <i>Miranda</i> was not the least
+Conquest he made. She no sooner heard of him, which was as soon as he
+arriv’d, but she fell in love with his very Name. <i>Jesu!</i>&mdash;A
+young King of <i>Rome!</i> Oh, it was so novel, that she doated on the
+Title; and had not car’d whether the rest had been Man or Monkey almost:
+She was resolved to be the <i>Lucretia</i> that this young
+<i>Tarquin</i> should ravish.</p>
+
+<p>To this End, she was no sooner up the next Day, but she sent him a
+<i>Billet Doux</i>, assuring him how much she admired his Fame; and that
+being a Stranger in the Town, she begged the Honour of introducing him
+to all the <i>Belle</i> Conversations, <i>&amp;c.</i> which he took for
+the Invitation of some Coquet, who had Interest in fair Ladies; and
+civilly return’d her an Answer, that he would wait on her. She had him
+that Day watched to Church; and impatient to see what she heard so many
+People flock to see, she went also to the same Church; those sanctified
+Abodes being too often profaned by such Devotees, whose Business is to
+ogle and ensnare.</p>
+
+<p>But what a Noise and Humming was heard all over the Church, when
+<i>Tarquin</i> enter’d! His Grace, his Mein, his Fashion, his Beauty,
+his Dress, and his Equipage surprized all that were present: And by the
+good Management and Care of <i>Miranda</i>, she got to kneel at the Side
+of the Altar, just over against the Prince, so that, if he would, he
+could not avoid looking full upon her. She had turned up her Veil, and
+all her Face and Shape appear’d such, and so inchanting, as I have
+described; and her Beauty heighten’d with Blushes, and her Eyes full of
+Spirit and Fire, with Joy, to find the young <i>Roman</i> Monarch so
+charming, she appear’d like something more than mortal, and compelled
+<span class = "pagenum">100</span>
+his Eyes to a fixed gazing on her Face: She never glanc’d that Way, but
+she met them; and then would feign so modest a Shame, and cast her Eyes
+downwards with such inviting Art, that he was wholly ravished and
+charmed, and she over-joy’d to find he was&nbsp;so.</p>
+
+<p>The Ceremony being ended, he sent a Page to follow that Lady Home,
+himself pursuing her to the Door of the Church, where he took some holy
+Water, and threw upon her, and made her a profound Reverence. She forc’d
+an innocent Look, and a modest Gratitude in her Face, and bow’d, and
+passed forward, half assur’d of her Conquest; leaving her, to go home to
+his Lodging, and impatiently wait the Return of his Page. And all the
+Ladies who saw this first Beginning between the Prince and
+<i>Miranda</i>, began to curse and envy her Charms, who had deprived
+them of half their Hopes.</p>
+
+<p>After this, I need not tell you, he made <i>Miranda</i> a Visit; and
+from that Day never left her Apartment, but when he went home at Nights,
+or unless he had Business; so entirely was he conquer’d by this Fair
+One. But the Bishop, and several Men of Quality, in Orders, that
+profess’d Friendship to him, advised him from her Company; and spoke
+several Things to him, that might (if&nbsp;Love had not made him blind)
+have reclaimed him from the Pursuit of his Ruin. But whatever they
+trusted him with, she had the Art to wind herself about his Heart, and
+make him unravel all his Secrets; and then knew as well, by feign’d
+Sighs and Tears, to make him disbelieve all; so that he had no Faith but
+for her; and was wholly inchanted and bewitch’d by her. At last, in
+spite of all that would have opposed it, he marry’d this famous Woman,
+possess’d by so many great Men and Strangers before, while all the World
+was pitying his Shame and Misfortunes.</p>
+
+<p>Being marry’d, they took a great House; and as she was indeed a great
+Fortune, and now a great Princess, there was nothing wanting that was
+agreeable to their
+<span class = "pagenum">101</span>
+Quality; all was splendid and magnificent. But all this would not
+acquire them the World’s Esteem; they had an Abhorrence for her former
+Life, and despised her; and for his espousing a Woman so infamous, they
+despised him. So that though they admir’d, and gazed upon their
+Equipage, and glorious Dress, they foresaw the Ruin that attended it,
+and paid her Quality little Respect.</p>
+
+<p>She was no sooner married, but her Uncle died; and dividing his
+Fortune between <i>Miranda</i> and her Sister, leaves the young Heiress,
+and all her Fortune, entirely in the Hands of the Princess.</p>
+
+<p>We will call this Sister <i>Alcidiana</i>; she was about fourteen
+Years of Age, and now had chosen her Brother, the Prince, for her
+Guardian. If <i>Alcidiana</i> were not altogether so great a Beauty as
+her Sister, she had Charms sufficient to procure her a great many
+Lovers, though her Fortune had not been so considerable as it was; but
+with that Addition, you may believe, she wanted no Courtships from those
+of the best Quality; tho’ every body deplor’d her being under the
+Tutorage of a Lady so expert in all the Vices of her Sex, and so cunning
+a Manager of Sin, as was the Princess; who, on her Part, failed not, by
+all the Caresses, and obliging Endearments, to engage the Mind of this
+young Maid, and to subdue her wholly to her Government. All her Senses
+were eternally regaled with the most bewitching Pleasures they were
+capable of: She saw nothing but Glory and Magnificence, heard nothing
+but Musick of the sweetest Sounds; the richest Perfumes employ’d her
+Smelling; and all she eat and touch’d was delicate and inviting; and
+being too young to consider how this State and Grandeur was to be
+continu’d, little imagined her vast Fortune was every Day diminishing,
+towards its needless Support.</p>
+
+<p>When the Princess went to Church, she had her Gentleman bare before
+her, carrying a great Velvet Cushion, with great Golden Tassels, for her
+to kneel on, and her
+<span class = "pagenum">102</span>
+Train borne up a most prodigious Length, led by a Gentleman Usher, bare;
+follow’d by innumerable Footmen, Pages, and Women. And in this State she
+would walk in the Streets, as in those Countries it is the Fashion for
+the great Ladies to do, who are well; and in her Train two or three
+Coaches, and perhaps a rich Velvet Chair embroider’d, would follow in
+State.</p>
+
+<p>It was thus for some time they liv’d, and the Princess was daily
+press’d by young sighing Lovers, for her Consent to marry
+<i>Alcidiana</i>; but she had still one Art or other to put them off,
+and so continually broke all the great Matches that were proposed to
+her, notwith&shy;standing their Kindred and other Friends had
+industriously endeavour’d to make several great Matches for her; but the
+Princess was still positive in her Denial, and one Way or other broke
+all. At last it happened, there was one proposed, yet more advantageous,
+a&nbsp;young Count, with whom the young Maid grew passionately in Love,
+and besought her Sister to consent that she might have him, and got the
+Prince to speak in her Behalf; but he had no sooner heard the secret
+Reasons <i>Miranda</i> gave him, but (entirely her Slave) he chang’d his
+Mind, and suited it to hers, and she, as before, broke off that Amour:
+Which so extremely incensed <i>Alcidiana</i>, <ins class = "correction"
+title = "text reads ‘the’">that</ins> she, taking an Opportunity, got
+from her Guard, and ran away, putting her self into the Hands of a <ins
+class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘wealty’">wealthy</ins>
+Merchant, her Kinsman, and one who bore the greatest Authority in the
+City; him she chuses for her Guardian, resolving to be no longer a Slave
+to the Tyranny of her Sister. And so well she ordered Matters, that she
+writ this young Cavalier, her last Lover, and retrieved him; who came
+back to <i>Antwerp</i> again, to renew his Courtship.</p>
+
+<p>Both Parties being agreed, it was no hard Matter to persuade all but
+the Princess. But though she opposed it, it was resolved on, and the Day
+appointed for Marriage, and the Portion demanded; demanded only, but
+never
+<span class = "pagenum">103</span>
+to be paid, the best Part of it being spent. However, she put them off
+from Day to Day, by a thousand frivolous Delays; and when she saw they
+would have Recourse to Force, and all that her Magnificence would be at
+an End, if the Law should prevail against her; and that without this
+Sister’s Fortune, she could not long support her Grandeur; she bethought
+herself of a Means to make it all her own, by getting her Sister made
+away; but she being out of her Tuition, she was not able to accomplish
+so great a Deed of Darkness. But since it was resolved it must be done,
+she contrives a thousand Stratagems; and at last pitches upon an
+effectual one.</p>
+
+<p>She had a Page call’d <i>Van Brune</i>, a Youth of great Address and
+Wit, and one she had long managed for her Purpose. This Youth was about
+seventeen Years of Age, and extremely beautiful; and in the Time when
+<i>Alcidiana</i> lived with the Princess, she was a little in Love with
+this handsome Boy; but it was checked in its Infancy, and never grew up
+to a Flame: Nevertheless, <i>Alcidiana</i> retained still a sort of
+Tenderness for him, while he burn’d in good Earnest with Love for the
+Princess.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess one Day ordering this Page to wait on her in her Closet,
+she shut the Door; and after a thousand Questions of what he would
+undertake to serve her, the amorous Boy finding himself alone, and
+caress’d by the fair Person he ador’d, with joyful Blushes that
+beautify’d his Face, told her, ‘There was nothing upon Earth, he would
+not do, to obey her least Commands.’ She grew more familiar with him, to
+oblige him; and seeing Love dance in his Eyes, of which she was so good
+a Judge, she treated him more like a Lover, than a Servant; till at last
+the ravished Youth, wholly transported out of himself, fell at her Feet,
+and impatiently implor’d to receive her Commands quickly, that he might
+fly to execute them; for he was not able to bear her charming Words,
+Looks, and Touches, and retain his Duty. At this she smil’d, and
+<span class = "pagenum">104</span>
+told him, the Work was of such a Nature, as would mortify all Flames
+about him; and he would have more Need of Rage, Envy, and Malice, than
+the Aids of a Passion so soft as what she now found him capable of. He
+assur’d her, he would stick at nothing, tho’ even against his Nature, to
+recompense for the Boldness he now, through his Indiscretion, had
+discover’d. She smiling, told him, he had committed no Fault; and that
+possibly, the Pay he should receive for the Service she required at his
+Hands, should be&mdash;what he most wish’d for in the World. At this he
+bow’d to the Earth; and kissing her Feet, bad her command: And then she
+boldly told him, <i>’Twas to kill her Sister</i> Alcidiana. The Youth,
+without so much as starting or pausing upon the Matter, told her, <i>It
+should be done</i>; and bowing low, immediately went out of the Closet.
+She call’d him back, and would have given him some Instruction; but he
+refused it, and said, ‘The Action and the Contrivance should be all his
+own.’ And offering to go again, she&mdash;again recalled him; putting
+into his Hand a Purse of a hundred Pistoles, which he took, and with a
+low Bow departed.</p>
+
+<p>He no sooner left her Presence, but he goes directly, and buys a Dose
+of Poison, and went immediately to the House where <i>Alcidiana</i>
+lived; where desiring to be brought to her Presence, he fell a weeping;
+and told her, his Lady had fallen out with him, and dismissed him her
+Service, and since from a Child he had been brought up in the Family, he
+humbly besought <i>Alcidiana</i> to receive him into hers, she being in
+a few Days to be marry’d. There needed not much Intreaty to a Thing that
+pleased her so well, and she immediately received him to Pension: And he
+waited some Days on her, before he could get an Opportunity to
+administer his devilish Potion. But one Night, when she drank Wine with
+roasted Apples, which was usual with her; instead of Sugar, or with the
+Sugar, the baneful Drug was mixed, and she drank it down.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">105</span>
+<p>About this Time, there was a great Talk of this Page’s coming from
+one Sister, to go to the other. And Prince <i>Tarquin</i>, who was
+ignorant of the Design from the Beginning to the End, hearing some Men
+of Quality at his Table speaking of <i>Van Brune’s</i> Change of Place
+(the Princess then keeping her Chamber upon some trifling Indisposition)
+he answer’d, ‘That surely they were mistaken, that he was not dismissed
+from the Princess’s Service:’ And calling some of his Servants, he asked
+for <i>Van Brune</i>; and whether any Thing had happen’d between her
+Highness and him, that had occasion’d his being turned off. They all
+seem’d ignorant of this Matter; and those who had spoken of it, began to
+fancy there was some Juggle in the Case, which Time would bring to
+Light.</p>
+
+<p>The ensuing Day ’twas all about the Town, that <i>Alcidiana</i> was
+poison’d; and though not dead, yet very near it; and that the Doctors
+said, she had taken Mercury. So that there was never so formidable a
+Sight as this fair young Creature; her Head and Body swoln, her Eyes
+starting out, her Face black, and all deformed: So that diligent Search
+was made, who it should be that did this; who gave her Drink and Meat.
+The Cook and Butler were examined, the Footman called to an Account; but
+all concluded, she received nothing but from the Hand of her new Page,
+since he came into her Service. He was examined, and shew’d a thousand
+guilty Looks: And the Apothecary, then attending among the Doctors,
+proved he had bought Mercury of him three or four Days before; which he
+could not deny; and making many Excuses for his buying it, betray’d him
+the more; so ill he chanced to dissemble. He was immediately sent to be
+examined by the Margrave or Justice, who made his <i>Mittimus</i>, and
+sent him to Prison.</p>
+
+<p>’Tis easy to imagine, in what Fears and Confusion the Princess was at
+this News: She took her Chamber upon it, more to hide her guilty Face,
+than for any Indisposition.
+<span class = "pagenum">106</span>
+And the Doctors apply’d such Remedies to <i>Alcidiana</i>, such
+Antidotes against the Poison, that in a short Time she recover’d; but
+lost the finest Hair in the World, and the Complexion of her Face ever
+after.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long before the Trials for Criminals came on; and the Day
+being arrived, <i>Van Brune</i> was try’d the first of all; every Body
+having already read his Destiny, according as they wished it; and none
+would believe, but just indeed as it was: So that for the Revenge they
+hoped to see fall upon the Princess, every one wished he might find no
+Mercy, that she might share of his Shame and Misery.</p>
+
+<p>The Sessions-House was filled that Day with all the Ladies, and chief
+of the Town, to hear the Result of his Trial; and the sad Youth was
+brought, loaded with Chains, and pale as Death; where every Circumstance
+being sufficiently proved against him, and he making but a weak Defence
+for himself, he was convicted, and sent back to Prison, to receive his
+Sentence of Death on the Morrow; where he owned all, and who set him on
+to do it. He own’d ’twas not Reward of Gain he did it for, but Hope he
+should command at his Pleasure the Possession of his Mistress, the
+Princess, who should deny him nothing, after having entrusted him with
+so great a Secret; and that besides, she had elevated him with the
+Promise of that glorious Reward, and had dazzled his young Heart with so
+charming a Prospect, that blind and mad with Joy, he rushed forward to
+gain the desired Prize, and thought on nothing but his coming Happiness:
+That he saw too late the Follies of his presumptuous Flame, and cursed
+the deluding Flatteries of the fair Hypocrite, who had soothed him to
+his Undoing: That he was a miserable Victim to her Wickedness; and hoped
+he should warn all young Men, by his Fall, to avoid the Dissimulation of
+the deceiving Fair: That he hoped they would have Pity on his Youth, and
+attribute his Crime to the subtle Persuasions alone of his Mistress the
+Princess: And that since <i>Alcidiana</i> was
+<span class = "pagenum">107</span>
+not dead, they would grant him Mercy, and permit him to live to repent
+of his grievous Crime, in some Part of the World, whither they might
+banish him.</p>
+
+<p>He ended with Tears, that fell in abundance from his Eyes; and
+immediately the Princess was apprehended, and brought to Prison, to the
+same Prison where yet the poor young Father <i>Francisco</i> was
+languishing, he having been from Week to Week reprieved, by the
+Intercession of the Fathers; and possibly she there had Time to make
+some Reflections.</p>
+
+<p>You may imagine <i>Tarquin</i> left no Means unessay’d, to prevent
+the Imprisonment of the Princess, and the publick Shame and Infamy she
+was likely to undergo in this Affair: But the whole City being
+over-joy’d that she should be punished, as an Author of all this
+Mischief, were generally bent against her, both Priests, Magistrates and
+People; the whole Force of the Stream running that Way, she found no
+more Favour than the meanest Criminal. The Prince therefore, when he saw
+’twas impossible to rescue her from the Hands of Justice, suffer’d with
+Grief unspeakable, what he could not prevent, and led her himself to the
+Prison, follow’d by all his People, in as much State as if he had been
+going to his Marriage; where, when she came, she was as well attended
+and served as before, he never stirring one Moment from her.</p>
+
+<p>The next Day, she was tried in open and common Court; where she
+appeared in Glory, led by <i>Tarquin</i>, and attended according to her
+Quality: And she could not deny all the Page had alledged against her,
+who was brought thither also in Chains; and after a great many
+Circumstances, she was found Guilty, and both received Sentence; the
+Page to be hanged till he was dead, on a Gibbet in the Market-Place; and
+the Princess to stand under the Gibbet, with a Rope about her Neck, the
+other End of which was to be <ins class = "correction" title =
+"spelling unchanged: usual form is ‘fasten’d’">fastned</ins> to the Gibbet where
+the Page was hanging; and to have an Inscription, in large
+<span class = "pagenum">108</span>
+Characters, upon her Back and Breast, of the Cause why; where she was to
+stand from ten in the Morning to twelve.</p>
+
+<p>This Sentence, the People with one Accord, believed too favourable
+for so ill a Woman, whose Crimes deserved Death, equal to that of <i>Van
+Brune</i>. Nevertheless, there were some who said, it was infinitely
+more severe than Death it self.</p>
+
+<p>The following <i>Friday</i> was the Day of Execution, and one need
+not tell of the Abundance of People, who were flocked together in the
+Market-Place: And all the Windows were taken down, and filled with
+Spectators, and the Tops of Houses; when at the Hour appointed, the
+fatal Beauty appear’d. She was dress’d in a black Velvet Gown, with a
+rich Row of Diamonds all down the fore Part of her Breast, and a great
+Knot of Diamonds at the Peak behind; and a Petticoat of flower’d Gold,
+very rich, and laced; with all Things else suitable. A&nbsp;Gentleman
+carry’d her great Velvet Cushion before her, on which her Prayer-Book,
+embroider’d, was laid; her Train was borne up by a Page, and the Prince
+led her, bare; followed by his Footmen, Pages, and other Officers of his
+House.</p>
+
+<p>When they arrived at the Place of Execution, the Cushion was laid on
+the Ground, upon a <i>Portugal</i> Mat, spread there for that Purpose;
+and the Princess stood on the Cushion, with her Prayer-Book in her Hand,
+and a Priest by her Side; and was accordingly tied up to the Gibbet.</p>
+
+<p>She had not stood there ten Minutes, but she had the Mortification
+(at&nbsp;least one would think it so to her) to see her sad Page, <i>Van
+Brune</i>, approach, fair as an Angel, but languishing and pale. That
+Sight moved all the Beholders with as much Pity, as that of the Princess
+did with Disdain and Pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>He was dressed all in Mourning, and very fine Linen, bare-headed,
+with his own Hair, the fairest that could be seen, hanging all in Curls
+on his Back and Shoulders, very
+<span class = "pagenum">109</span>
+long. He had a Prayer-Book of black Velvet in his Hand, and behaved
+himself with much Penitence and Devotion.</p>
+
+<p>When he came under the Gibbet, he seeing his Mistress in that
+Condition, shew’d an infinite Concern, and his fair Face was cover’d
+over with Blushes; and falling at her Feet, he humbly ask’d her Pardon
+for having been the Occasion of so great an Infamy to her, by a weak
+Confession, which the Fears of Youth, and Hopes of Life, had obliged him
+to make, so greatly to her Dishonour; for indeed he wanted that manly
+Strength, to bear the Efforts of dying, as he ought, in Silence, rather
+than of commiting so great a Crime against his Duty, and Honour itself;
+and that he could not die in Peace, unless she would forgive him. The
+Princess only nodded her Head, and cried, <i>I&nbsp;do</i>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>And after having spoken a little to his Father-Confessor, who was
+with him, he chearfully mounted the Ladder, and in Sight of the Princess
+he was turned off, while a loud Cry was heard thro’ all the
+Market-Place, especially from the Fair Sex; he hanged there till the
+Time the Princess was to depart; and then she was put into a rich
+embroider’d Chair, and carry’d away, <i>Tarquin</i> going into his, for
+he had all that Time stood supporting the Princess under the Gallows,
+and was very weary. She was sent back, till her Releasement came, which
+was that Night about seven o’Clock; and then she was conducted to her
+own House in great State, with a Dozen White Wax Flambeaux about her
+Chair.</p>
+
+<p>If the Guardian of <i>Alcidiana</i>, and her Friends, before were
+impatient of having the Portion out of the Hands of these Extravagants,
+it is not to be imagined, but they were now much more so; and the next
+Day they sent an Officer, according to Law, to demand it, or to summon
+the Prince to give Reasons why he would not pay it. The Officer received
+for Answer, That the Money should be call’d in, and paid in such a Time,
+setting a certain
+<span class = "pagenum">110</span>
+Time, which I have not been so curious as to retain, or put in my
+Journal-Observations; but I am sure it was not long, as may be easily
+imagin’d, for they every Moment suspected the Prince would pack up, and
+be gone, some time or other, on the sudden; and for that Reason they
+would not trust him without Bail, or two Officers to remain in his
+House, to watch that nothing should be remov’d or touch’d. As for Bail,
+or Security, he could give none; every one slunk their Heads out of the
+Collar, when it came to that: So that he was oblig’d, at his own
+Expence, to maintain Officers in his House.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess finding her self reduced to the last Extremity, and that
+she must either produce the Value of a hundred thousand Crowns, or see
+the Prince her Husband lodged for ever in a Prison, and all their Glory
+vanish; and that it was impossible to fly, since guarded; she had
+Recourse to an Extremity, worse than the Affair of <i>Van Brune</i>. And
+in order to this, she first puts on a world of Sorrow and Concern, for
+what she feared might arrive to the Prince: And indeed, if ever she shed
+Tears which she did not dissemble, it was upon this Occasion. But here
+she almost over-acted: She stirred not from her Bed, and refused to eat,
+or sleep, or see the Light; so that the Day being shut out of her
+Chamber, she lived by Wax-lights, and refus’d all Comfort and
+Consolation.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince, all raving with Love, tender Compassion and Grief, never
+stirred from her Bed-side, nor ceas’d to implore, that she would suffer
+herself to live. But she, who was not now so passionately in Love with
+<i>Tarquin</i>, as she was with the Prince; nor so fond of the Man as
+his Titles, and of Glory; foresaw the total Ruin of the last, if not
+prevented by avoiding the Payment of this great Sum; which could not
+otherwise be, than by the Death of <i>Alcidiana</i>: And therefore,
+without ceasing, she wept, and cry’d out, ‘She could not live, unless
+<i>Alcidiana</i> died. This <i>Alcidiana</i> (<i>continued she</i>) who
+has been the Author of my
+<span class = "pagenum">111</span>
+Shame; who has expos’d me under a Gibbet, in the Publick
+Market-Place&mdash;Oh!&mdash;I&nbsp;am deaf to all Reason, blind to
+natural Affection. I&nbsp;renounce her, I&nbsp;hate her as my mortal
+Foe, my Stop to Glory, and the Finisher of my Days, e’er half my Race of
+Life be run.’</p>
+
+<p>Then throwing her false, but snowy, charming Arms about the Neck her
+Heart-breaking Lord, and Lover, who lay sighing, and listening by her
+Side, he was charmed and bewitch’d into saying all Things that appeased
+her; and lastly, told her, ‘<i>Alcidiana</i> should be no longer any
+Obstacle to her Repose; but that, if she would look up, and cast her
+Eyes of Sweetness and Love upon him, as heretofore; forget her Sorrow,
+and redeem her lost Health; he would take what Measures she should
+propose to dispatch this fatal Stop to her Happiness, out of the
+Way.’</p>
+
+<p>These Words failed not to make her caress him in the most endearing
+Manner that Love and Flattery could invent; and she kiss’d him to an
+Oath, a&nbsp;solemn Oath, to perform what he had promised; and he vow’d
+liberally. And she assumed in an Instant her Good-Humour, and suffer’d a
+Supper to be prepared, and did eat; which in many Days before she had
+not done: So obstinate and powerful was she in dissembling well.</p>
+
+<p>The next Thing to be consider’d was, which Way this Deed was to be
+done; for they doubted not, but when it was done, all the World would
+lay it upon the Princess, as done by her Command: But she urged,
+Suspicion was no Proof; and that they never put to Death any one, but
+when they had great and certain Evidence who were the Offenders. She was
+sure of her own Constancy, that Racks and Tortures should never get the
+Secret from her Breast; and if he were as confident on his Part, there
+was no Danger. Yet this Preparation she made towards laying the Fact on
+others, that she caused several Letters to be wrote from <i>Germany</i>,
+as from the Relations of <i>Van Brune</i>, who threaten’d
+<i>Alcidiana</i> with Death, for depriving their
+<span class = "pagenum">112</span>
+Kinsman (who was a Gentleman) of his Life, though he had not taken away
+hers. And it was the Report of the Town, how this young Maid was
+threaten’d. And indeed, the Death of the Page had so afflicted a great
+many, that <i>Alcidiana</i> had procured her self abundance of Enemies
+upon that Account, because she might have saved him if she had pleased;
+but, on the contrary, she was a Spectator, and in full Health and
+Vigour, at his Execution: And People were not so much concerned for her
+at this Report, as they would have been.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince, who now had, by reasoning the Matter soberly with
+<i>Miranda</i>, found it absolutely necessary to dispatch
+<i>Alcidiana</i>, resolved himself, and with his own Hand, to execute
+it; not daring to trust to any of his most favourite Servants, though he
+had many, who possibly would have obey’d him; for they loved him as he
+deserved, and so would all the World, had he not been so purely deluded
+by this fair Enchantress. He therefore, as I said, resolved to keep this
+great Secret to himself; and taking a Pistol, charged well with two
+Bullets, he watch’d an Opportunity to shoot her as she should go out or
+into her House, or Coach, some Evening.</p>
+
+<p>To this End he waited several Nights near her Lodgings, but still,
+either she went not out, or when she return’d, she was so guarded with
+Friends, her Lover, and Flambeaux, that he could not aim at her without
+endangering the Life of some other. But one Night above the rest, upon a
+<i>Sunday</i>, when he knew she would be at the Theatre, for she never
+missed that Day seeing the Play, he waited at the Corner of the
+Stadt-House, near the Theatre, with his Cloak cast over his Face, and a
+black Periwig, all alone, with his Pistol ready cock’d; and remain’d not
+very long but he saw her Kinsman’s Coach come along; ’twas almost dark,
+Day was just shutting up her Beauties, and left such a Light to govern
+the World, as serv’d only just to distinguish one Object from another,
+and a convenient Help to
+<span class = "pagenum">113</span>
+Mischief. He saw alight out of the Coach only one young Lady, the Lover,
+and then the destin’d Victim; which he (drawing near) knew rather by her
+Tongue than Shape. The Lady ran into the Play-House, and left
+<i>Alcidiana</i> to be conducted by her Lover into it: Who led her to
+the Door, and went to give some Order to the Coachman; so that the Lover
+was about twenty Yards from <i>Alcidiana</i>; when she stood the fairest
+Mark in the World, on the Threshold of the Entrance of the Theatre,
+there being many Coaches about the Door, so that hers could not come so
+near. <i>Tarquin</i> was resolved not to lose so fair an Opportunity,
+and advanc’d, but went behind the Coaches; and when he came over-against
+the Door, through a great booted Velvet Coach, that stood between him
+and her, he shot; and she having the Train of her Gown and Petticoat on
+her Arm, in great Quantity, he missed her Body, and shot through her
+Clothes, between her Arm and her Body. She, frighten’d to find something
+hit her, and to see the Smoke, and hear the Report of the Pistol;
+running in, cried, <i>I&nbsp;am shot, I&nbsp;am dead.</i></p>
+
+<p>This Noise quickly alarm’d her Lover; and all the Coachmen and
+Footmen immediately ran, some one Way, and some another. One of ’em
+seeing a Man haste away in a Cloak; he being a lusty, bold
+<i>German</i>, stopped him; and drawing upon him, bad him stand, and
+deliver his Pistol, or he would run him through.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tarquin</i> being surprised at the Boldness of this Fellow to
+demand his Pistol, as if he positively knew him to be the Murderer (for
+so he thought himself, since he believed <i>Alcidiana</i> dead) had so
+much Presence of Mind as to consider, if he suffered himself to be
+taken, he should poorly die a publick Death; and therefore resolv’d upon
+one Mischief more, to secure himself from the first: And in the Moment
+that the <i>German</i> bad him deliver his Pistol, he cried, <i>Though I
+have no Pistol to deliver, I&nbsp;have a Sword to chastise thy
+Insolence</i>. And throwing off his Cloak, and
+<span class = "pagenum">114</span>
+flinging his Pistol from him, he drew, and wounded, and disarmed the
+Fellow.</p>
+
+<p>This Noise of Swords brought every body to the Place; and immediately
+the Bruit ran, <i>The Murderer was taken, the Murderer was taken</i>;
+Tho’ none knew which was he, nor as yet so much as the Cause of the
+Quarrel between the two fighting Men; for it was now darker than before.
+But at the Noise of the Murderer being taken, the Lover of
+<i>Alcidiana</i>, who by this Time found his Lady unhurt, all but the
+Trains of her Gown and Petticoat, came running to the Place, just as
+<i>Tarquin</i> had disarm’d the <i>German</i>, and was ready to kill
+him; when laying hold of his Arm, they arrested the Stroke, and redeemed
+the Footman.</p>
+
+<p>They then demanded who this Stranger was, at whose Mercy the Fellow
+lay; but the Prince, who now found himself venturing for his last Stake,
+made no Reply; but with two Swords in his Hands went to fight his Way
+through the Rabble; And tho’ there were above a hundred Persons, some
+with Swords, others with long Whips, (as&nbsp;Coachmen) so invincible
+was the Courage of this poor unfortunate Gentleman at that Time, that
+all these were not able to seize him; but he made his Way through the
+Ring that encompassed him, and ran away; but was, however, so closely
+pursued, the Company still gathering as they ran, that toiled with
+fighting, oppressed with Guilt, and Fear of being taken, he grew fainter
+and fainter, and suffered himself, at last, to yield to his Pursuers,
+who soon found him to be Prince <i>Tarquin</i> in Disguise: And they
+carry’d him directly to Prison, being <i>Sunday</i>, to wait the coming
+Day, to go before a Magistrate.</p>
+
+<p>In an Hour’s Time the whole fatal Adventure was carried all over the
+City, and every one knew that <i>Tarquin</i> was the intended Murderer
+of <i>Alcidiana</i>; and not one but had a real Sorrow and Compassion
+for him. They heard how bravely he had defended himself, how many he had
+wounded before he could be taken, and what numbers he
+<span class = "pagenum">115</span>
+had fought through: And even those that saw his Valour and Bravery, and
+who had assisted at his being seiz’d, now repented from the Bottom of
+their Hearts their having any Hand in the Ruin of so gallant a Man;
+especially since they knew the Lady was not hurt. A&nbsp;thousand
+Addresses were made to her, not to prosecute him; but her Lover,
+a&nbsp;hot-headed Fellow, more fierce than brave, would by no Means be
+pacified, but vowed to pursue him to the Scaffold.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Monday</i> came, and the Prince being examined, confessed the
+Matter of Fact, since there was no Harm done; believing a generous
+Confession the best of his Game: But he was sent back to closer
+Imprisonment, loaded with Irons, to expect the next Sessions. All his
+Household-Goods were seiz’d, and all they could find, for the Use of
+<i>Alcidiana</i>. And the Princess, all in Rage, tearing her Hair, was
+carried to the same Prison, to behold the cruel Effects of her hellish
+Designs.</p>
+
+<p>One need not tell here how sad and horrid this Meeting appear’d
+between her Lord and her: Let it suffice, it was the most melancholy and
+mortifying Object that ever Eyes beheld. On <i>Miranda’s</i> Part, ’twas
+sometimes all Rage and Fire, and sometimes all Tears and Groans; but
+still ’twas sad Love, and mournful Tenderness on his. Nor could all his
+Sufferings, and the Prospect of Death itself, drive from his Soul one
+Spark of that Fire the obstinate God had fatally kindled there: And in
+the midst of all his Sighs, he would re-call himself, and
+cry,&mdash;<i>I have <em>Miranda</em> still.</i></p>
+
+<p>He was eternally visited by his Friends and Acquaintance; and this
+last Action of Bravery had got him more than all his former Conduct had
+lost. The Fathers were perpetually with him; and all join’d with one
+common Voice in this, That he ought to abandon a Woman so wicked as the
+Princess; and that however Fate dealt with him, he could not shew
+himself a true Penitent, while he laid the Author of so much Evil in his
+Bosom: That Heaven would never bless him, till he had renounced her:
+<span class = "pagenum">116</span>
+And on such Conditions he would find those that would employ their
+utmost Interest to save his Life, who else would not stir in this
+Affair. But he was so deaf to all, that he could not so much as
+dissemble a Repentance for having married her.</p>
+
+<p>He lay a long Time in Prison, and all that Time the poor Father
+<i>Francisco</i> remained there also: And the good Fathers who daily
+visited these two amorous Prisoners, the Prince and Princess; and who
+found, by the Management of Matters, it would go very hard with
+<i>Tarquin</i>, entertained ’em often with holy Matters relating to the
+Life <ins class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘to to’">to</ins>
+come; from which, before his Trial, he gathered what his Stars had
+appointed, and that he was destin’d to die.</p>
+
+<p>This gave an unspeakable Torment to the now repenting Beauty, who had
+reduced him to it; and she began to appear with a more solid Grief:
+Which being perceived by the good Fathers, they resolved to attack her
+on the yielding Side; and after some Discourse upon the Judgment for
+Sin, they came to reflect on the Business of Father <i>Francisco</i>;
+and told her, she had never thriven since her accusing of that Father,
+and laid it very home to her Conscience; assuring her that they would do
+their utmost in her Service, if she would confess that secret Sin to all
+the World, so that she might atone for the Crime, by the saving that
+good Man. At first she seemed inclined to yield; but Shame of being her
+own Detector, in so vile a Matter, recalled her Goodness, and she
+faintly persisted in&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>At the End of six Months, Prince <i>Tarquin</i> was called to his
+Tryal; where I will pass over the Circumstances, which are only what is
+usual in such criminal Cases, and tell you, that he being found guilty
+of the Intent of killing <i>Alcidiana</i>, was condemned to lose his
+Head in the Market-Place, and the Princess to be banished her
+Country.</p>
+
+<p>After Sentence pronounced, to the real Grief of all the Spectators,
+he was carry’d back to Prison, and now the
+<span class = "pagenum">117</span>
+Fathers attack her anew; and she, whose Griefs daily encreased, with a
+Languishment that brought her very near her Grave, at last confess’d all
+her Life, all the Lewdness of her Practices with several Princes and
+great Men, besides her Lusts with People that served her, and others in
+mean Capacity: And lastly, the whole Truth of the young Friar; and how
+she had drawn the Page, and the Prince her Husband, to this design’d
+Murder of her Sister. This she signed with her Hand, in the Presence of
+the Prince, her Husband, and several Holy Men who were present. Which
+being signify’d to the Magistrates, the Friar was immediately deliver’d
+from his Irons (where he had languished more than two whole Years) in
+great Triumph, with much Honour, and lives a most exemplary pious Life,
+as he did before; for he is now living in <i>Antwerp</i>.</p>
+
+<p>After the Condemnation of these two unfortunate Persons, who begot
+such different Sentiments in the Minds of the People (the Prince, all
+the Compassion and Pity imaginable; and the Princess, all the Contempt
+and Despite;) they languished almost six Months longer in Prison; so
+great an Interest there was made, in order to the saving his Life, by
+all the Men of the Robe. On the other side, the Princes, and great Men
+of all Nations, who were at the Court of <i>Brussels</i>, who bore a
+secret Revenge in their Hearts against a Man who had, as they pretended,
+set up a false Title, only to take Place of them; who indeed was but a
+Merchant’s Son of <i>Holland</i>, as they said; so incens’d them against
+him, that they were too hard at Court for the Church-men. However, this
+Dispute gave the Prince his Life some Months longer than was expected;
+which gave him also some Hope, that a Reprieve for ninety Years would
+have been granted, as was desired. Nay, Father <i>Francisco</i> so
+interested himself in this Concern, that he writ to his Father, and
+several Princes of <i>Germany</i>, with whom the Marquis <i>Castel
+Roderigo</i> was well acquainted, to intercede with him for the saving
+of <i>Tarquin</i>; since
+<span class = "pagenum">118</span>
+’twas more by his Persuasions, than those of all who attacked her, that
+made <i>Miranda</i> confess the Truth of her Affair with him. But at the
+End of six Months, when all Applications were found fruitless and vain,
+the Prince receiv’d News, that in two Days he was to die, as his
+Sentence had been before pronounced, and for which he prepared himself
+with all Chearfulness.</p>
+
+<p>On the following <i>Friday</i>, as soon as it was light, all People
+of any Condition came to take their Leaves of him; and none departed
+with dry Eyes, or Hearts unconcern’d to the last Degree: For
+<i>Tarquin</i>, when he found his Fate inevitable bore it with a
+Fortitude that shewed no Signs of Regret; but address’d himself to all
+about him with the same chearful, modest, and great Air, he was wont to
+do in his most flourishing Fortune. His Valet was dressing him all the
+Morning, so many Interruptions they had by Visitors; and he was all in
+Mourning, and so were all his Followers; for even to the last he kept up
+his Grandeur, to the Amazement of all People. And indeed, he was so
+passionately belov’d by them, that those he had dismiss’d, serv’d him
+voluntarily, and would not be persuaded to abandon him while he
+liv’d.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess was also dress’d in Mourning, and her two Women; and
+notwith&shy;standing the unheard-of Lewdness and Villanies she had
+confess’d of her self, the Prince still ador’d her; for she had still
+those Charms that made him first do so; nor, to his last Moment, could
+he be brought to wish, that he had never seen her; but on the contrary,
+as a Man yet vainly proud of his Fetters, he said, ‘All the Satisfaction
+this short Moment of Life could afford him, was, that he died in
+endeavouring to serve <i>Miranda</i>, his adorable Princess.’</p>
+
+<p>After he had taken Leave of all, who thought it necessary to leave
+him to himself for some Time, he retir’d with his Confessor; where they
+were about an Hour in Prayer, all the Ceremonies of Devotion that were
+fit to
+<span class = "pagenum">119</span>
+be done, being already past. At last the Bell toll’d, and he was to take
+Leave of the Princess, as his last Work of Life, and the most hard he
+had to accomplish. He threw himself at her Feet, and gazing on her as
+she sat more dead than alive, overwhelm’d with silent Grief, they both
+remain’d some Moments speechless; and then, as if one rising Tide of
+Tears had supply’d both their Eyes, it burst out in Streams at the same
+Instant: and when his Sighs gave Way, he utter’d a thousand Farewels, so
+soft, so passionate, and moving, that all who were by were extremely
+touch’d with it, and said, <i>That nothing could be seen more deplorable
+and melancholy</i>. A thousand Times they bad Farewel, and still some
+tender Look, or Word, would prevent his going; then embrace, and bid
+Farewel again. A&nbsp;thousand Times she ask’d his Pardon for being the
+Occasion of that fatal Separation; a&nbsp;thousand Times assuring him,
+she would follow him, for she could not live without him. And Heaven
+knows when their soft and sad Caresses would have ended, had not the
+Officers assur’d him ’twas Time to mount the Scaffold. At which Words
+the Princess fell fainting in the Arms of her Woman, and they led
+<i>Tarquin</i> out of Prison.</p>
+
+<p>When he came to the Market-Place, whither he walked on Foot, follow’d
+by his own Domesticks, and some bearing a black Velvet Coffin with
+Silver Hinges; the Head’s-man before him with his fatal Scimiter drawn,
+his Confessor by his Side, and many Gentlemen and Church-men, with
+Father <i>Francisco</i> attending him, the People showring Millions of
+Blessings on him, and beholding him with weeping Eyes, he mounted the
+Scaffold; which was strewed with some Saw-dust, about the Place where he
+was to kneel, to receive the Blood: For they behead People kneeling, and
+with the Back-Stroak of a Scimiter; and not lying on a Block, and with
+an Axe, as we in <i>England</i>. The Scaffold had a low Rail about it,
+that every body might more conveniently see. This was hung with
+<span class = "pagenum">120</span>
+black, and all that State that such a Death could have, was here in most
+decent Order.</p>
+
+<p>He did not say much upon the Scaffold: The Sum of what he said to his
+Friends was, to be kind, and take Care of the poor Penitent his Wife: To
+others, recommending his honest and generous Servants, whose Fidelity
+was so well known and commended, that they were soon promised
+Preferment. He was some time in Prayer, and a very short time in
+speaking to his Confessor; then he turned to the Head’s-man, and desired
+him to do his Office well, and gave him twenty <i>Louis d’Ors</i>; and
+undressing himself with the Help of his Valet and Page, he pull’d off
+his Coat, and had underneath a white Sattin Waistcoat: He took off his
+Periwig, and put on a white Sattin Cap, with a Holland one done with
+Point under it, which he pulled over his Eyes; then took a chearful
+Leave of all, and kneel’d down, and said, ‘When he lifted up his Hands
+the third Time, the Head’s-man should do his Office.’ Which accordingly
+was done, and the Head’s-man gave him his last Stroke, and the Prince
+fell on the Scaffold. The People with one common Voice, as if it had
+been but one entire one, pray’d for his Soul; and Murmurs of Sighs were
+heard from the whole Multitude, who scrambled for some of the bloody
+Saw-dust, to keep for his Memory.</p>
+
+<p>The Head’s-man going to take up the Head, as the Manner is, to shew
+it to the People, he found he had not struck it off, and that the Body
+stirr’d; with that he stepped to an Engine, which they always carry with
+’em, to force those who may be refractory; thinking, as he said, to have
+twisted the Head from the Shoulders, conceiving it to hang but by a
+small Matter of Flesh. Tho’ ’twas an odd Shift of the Fellow’s, yet
+’twas done, and the best Shift he could suddenly propose. The Margrave,
+and another Officer, old Men, were on the Scaffold, with some of the
+Prince’s Friends, and Servants; who seeing the Head’s-man put the Engine
+about the Neck of the Prince,
+<span class = "pagenum">121</span>
+began to call out, and the People made a great Noise. The Prince, who
+found himself yet alive; or rather, who was past thinking but had some
+Sense of Feeling left, when the Head’s-man took him up, and set his Back
+against the Rail, and clapp’d the Engine about his Neck, got his two
+Thumbs between the Rope and his Neck, feeling himself press’d there; and
+struggling between Life and Death, and bending himself over the Rail
+backward, while the Head’s-man pulled forward, he threw himself quite
+over the Rail, by Chance, and not Design, and fell upon the Heads and
+Shoulders of the People, who were crying out with amazing Shouts of Joy.
+The Head’s-man leap’d after him, but the Rabble had lik’d to have pull’d
+him to Pieces: All the City was in an Uproar, but none knew what the
+Matter was, but those who bore the Body of the Prince, whom they found
+yet living; but how, or by what strange Miracle preserv’d, they knew
+not, nor did examine; but with one Accord, as if the whole Crowd had
+been one Body, and had had but one Motion, they bore the Prince on their
+Heads about a hundred Yards from the Scaffold, where there is a
+Monastery of Jesuits; and there they secur’d him. All this was done, his
+beheading, his falling, and his being secur’d, almost in a Moment’s
+Time; the People rejoiceing, as at some extraordinary Victory won. One
+of the Officers being, as I said, an old timorous Man, was so frighten’d
+at the Accident, the Bustle, the Noise, and the Confusion, of which he
+was wholly ignorant, that he dy’d with Amazement and Fear; and the other
+was fain to be let blood.</p>
+
+<p>The Officers of Justice went to demand the Prisoner, but they
+demanded in vain; the Jesuits had now a Right to protect him, and would
+do so. All his <ins class = "correction" title =
+"spelling unchanged: usual form is ‘over-joy’d’ with hyphen">overjoy’d</ins> Friends went to
+see in what Condition he was, and all of Quality found Admittance: They
+saw him in Bed, going to be dress’d by the most skilful Surgeons, who
+yet could not assure him of Life. They desired no body should speak
+<span class = "pagenum">122</span>
+to him, or ask him any Questions. They found that the Head’s-man had
+struck him too low, and had cut him into the Shoulder-bone. A&nbsp;very
+great Wound, you may be sure; for the Sword, in such Executions, carries
+an extreme Force: However, so great Care was taken on all Sides, and so
+greatly the Fathers were concern’d for him, that they found an
+Amendment, and Hopes of a good Effect of their incomparable Charity and
+Goodness.</p>
+
+<p>At last, when he was permitted to speak, the first News he ask’d was
+after the Princess. And his Friends were very much afflicted to find,
+that all his Loss of Blood had not quenched that Flame, not let out that
+which made him still love that bad Woman. He was sollicited daily to
+think no more of her: And all her Crimes are laid so open to him, and so
+shamefully represented; and on the other Side, his Virtues so admir’d;
+and which, they said, would have been eternally celebrated, but for his
+Folly with this infamous Creature; that at last, by assuring him of all
+their Assistance if he abandon’d her; and to renounce him, and deliver
+him up, if he did not; they wrought so far upon him, as to promise, he
+would suffer her to go alone into Banishment, and would not follow her,
+or live with her any more. But alas! this was but his Gratitude that
+compell’d this Complaisance, for in his Heart he resolv’d never to
+abandon her; nor was he able to live, and think of doing it: However,
+his Reason assur’d him, he could not do a Deed more justifiable, and one
+that would regain his Fame sooner.</p>
+
+<p>His Friends ask’d him some Questions concerning his Escape; and since
+he was not beheaded, but only wounded, why he did not immediately rise
+up? But he replied, he was so absolutely prepossessed, that at the third
+lifting up his Hands he should receive the Stroke of Death, that at the
+same Instant the Sword touch’d him, he had no Sense; nay, not even of
+Pain, so absolutely dead he was with Imagination; and knew not that he
+stirr’d, as the Head’s-man
+<span class = "pagenum">123</span>
+found he did; nor did he remember any Thing, from the lifting up of his
+Hands, to his fall; and then awaken’d, as out of a Dream, or rather a
+Moment’s Sleep without Dream, he found he liv’d, and wonder’d what was
+arriv’d to him, or how he came to live; having not, as yet, any Sense of
+his Wound, tho’ so terrible an one.</p>
+
+<p>After this, <i>Alcidiana</i>, who was extremely afflicted for having
+been the Prosecutor of this great Man; who, bating this last Design
+against her, which she knew was at the Instigation of her Sister, had
+oblig’d her with all the Civility imaginable; now sought all Means
+possible of getting his Pardon, and that of her Sister; tho’ of an
+hundred thousand Crowns, which she should have paid her, she could get
+but ten thousand; which was from the Sale of her rich Beds, and some
+other Furniture. So that the young Count, who before should have marry’d
+her, now went off for want of Fortune; and a young Merchant (perhaps the
+best of the two) was the Man to whom she was destin’d.</p>
+
+<p>At last, by great Intercession, both their Pardons were obtain’d; and
+the Prince, who would be no more seen in a Place that had prov’d every
+way so fatal to him, left <i>Flanders</i>, promising never to live with
+the Fair Hypocrite more; but e’er he departed, he wrote her a Letter,
+wherein he order’d her, in a little Time, to follow him into
+<i>Holland</i>; and left a Bill of Exchange with one of his trusty
+Servants, whom he had left to wait upon her, for Money for her
+Accommodation; so that she was now reduced to one Woman, one Page, and
+this Gentleman. The Prince, in this Time of his Imprisonment, had
+several Bills of great Sums from his Father, who was exceeding rich, and
+this all the Children he had in the World, and whom he tenderly
+loved.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as <i>Miranda</i> was come into <i>Holland</i>, she was
+welcom’d with all imaginable Respect and Endearment by the old Father;
+who was impos’d upon so, as that he
+<span class = "pagenum">124</span>
+knew not she was the fatal Occasion of all these Disasters to his Son;
+but rather look’d on her as a Woman, who had brought him an hundred and
+fifty thousand Crowns, which his Misfortunes had consum’d. But, above
+all, she was receiv’d by <i>Tarquin</i> with a Joy unspeakable; who,
+after some Time, to redeem his Credit, and gain himself a new Fame, put
+himself into the <i>French</i> Army, where he did Wonders; and after
+three Campaigns, his Father dying, he return’d home, and retir’d to a
+Country-House; where, with his Princess, he liv’d as a private
+Gentleman, in all the Tranquillity of a Man of good Fortune. They say
+<i>Miranda</i> has been very penitent for her Life past, and gives
+Heaven the Glory for having given her these Afflictions that have
+reclaim’d her, and brought her to as perfect a State of Happiness, as
+this troublesome World, can afford.</p>
+
+<p>Since I began this Relation, I heard that Prince <i>Tarquin</i>, dy’d
+about three Quarters of a Year ago.</p>
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<h5><a name = "jilt_notes" id = "jilt_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The Fair Jilt.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "jilt_comm1" id = "jilt_comm1" href = "#jilt_dedic">p. 70</a>
+<i>To Henry Pain, Esq.</i> Henry Neville Payne, politician and author,
+was a thorough Tory and an ardent partisan of James II. Downes ascribes
+to him three plays: <i>The Fatal Jealousy</i>, produced at Dorset Garden
+in the winter of 1672, a&nbsp;good, if somewhat vehement, tragedy (4to,
+1673); <i>Morning Ramble; or, Town Humours</i>, produced at the same
+theatre in 1673 (4to, 1673), which, though lacking in plot and quick
+incident, is far from a bad comedy; and <i>The Siege of
+Constantinople</i>, acted by the Duke’s company in 1674 (4to, 1675),
+a&nbsp;tragedy which very sharply lashes Shaftesbury as the Chancellor,
+especially in Act II, when Lorenzo, upon his patron designing a frolic,
+says:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class = "verse">
+<p>My Lord, you know your old house, Mother Somelie’s,</p>
+<p>You know she always fits you with fresh girls.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mother Somelie is, of course, the notorious Mother Mosely.</p>
+
+<p>Henry Payne wrote several loyal pamphlets, and after the Revolution
+he became, according to Burnet, ‘the most active and determined of all
+King James’ agents.’ He is said to have been the chief instigator of the
+Montgomery plot in 1690, and whilst in Scotland was arrested. 10 and 11
+December of that year he was severely tortured under a special order of
+William III, but nothing could be extracted from him. This is the last
+occasion on which torture was applied in Scotland. After being treated
+with harshest cruelty by William III, Payne was finally released from
+prison in December, 1700, or January, 1701, as the Duke of Queensbury,
+recognizing the serious illegalities of the whole business, urgently
+advised his liberation. Payne died in 1710. As Macaulay consistently
+confounds him with a certain Edward Neville, S.J., the statements of
+this historian with reference to Henry Neville Payne must be entirely
+disregarded.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "jilt_comm2" id = "jilt_comm2" href = "#jilt_main">p. 72</a>
+<i>The Fair Jilt.</i> Editio princeps, ‘London. Printed by <i>R.
+Holt</i> for <i>Will. Canning</i>, at his Shop in the
+<i>Temple-Cloysters</i>’ (1688), ‘Licensed 17 April, 1688. <i>Ric.
+Pocock</i>’, has as title: <i>The Fair Jilt; or, The History of Prince
+Tarquin and Miranda</i>. As half-title it prints: <i>The Fair Hypocrite;
+or, The Amours of Prince Tarquin and Miranda</i>. All subsequent
+editions, however, give: <i>The Fair Jilt; or, The Amours of Prince
+Tarquin and Miranda</i>. The Dedication only occurs in the first
+edition.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "jilt_comm3" id = "jilt_comm3" href = "#jilt_commtag3">p.
+73</a>
+<i>Scrutore.</i> Escritoire, cf. Sir T. Herbert, <i>Trav.</i> (1677):
+‘There they sell .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Scrutores or Cabinets of Mother of
+Pearl.’</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "jilt_comm4" id = "jilt_comm4" href = "#jilt_commtag4">p.
+75</a>
+<i>Canonesses, Begines, Quests, Swart-Sisters and Jesuitesses.</i>
+<i>Canonesses</i> are very ancient in history. The most important
+Congregations are the Sepulchrines or Canonesses of the Holy Sepulchre,
+and the Lateran Canonesses. There was an old community of French
+Hospitaller
+<span class = "pagenum">520</span>
+Canonesses of Saint-Esprit. Thomassin tells us that the Béguines were
+canonesses, and that their name is derived from S.&nbsp;Begghe
+(<i>ob.</i> 689), who founded the Canonesses of Andenne. There are also
+Chapters of secular canonesses, nearly all Benedictine in origin. Many
+of these only admitted ladies of the highest rank. The French Revolution
+swept away a great number of these institutions, and some were
+suppressed by Joseph II of Austria. Premonstratensian (white) Canonesses
+were common in Belgium.</p>
+
+<p><i>Begines.</i> Either founded by S. Begghe, or their name is derived
+from Lambert de Bègue, a&nbsp;priest of Liège, in 1177. Some place their
+foundation at the beginning of the eleventh century in the Netherlands
+or Germany. After three years women who are enrolled are entitled to a
+little house. No vows are taken, but they assist in choir thrice daily.
+There are several hundreds at Ghent, and the Béguinage (ten Wijngaarde)
+of Bruges is famous.</p>
+
+<p><i>Quests.</i> Quêteuses. Extern Sisters, Poor Clares and Colettines;
+Lay Sisters, Dominicanesses, who go out and beg for the community. ‘To
+quest’ is to go alms-begging. The Sisters of Charity are of later
+foundation. cf. Translation, D’Emilliane’s <i>Frauds of Romish Monks</i>
+(1691): ‘The Farmer [of Purgatory Money] sends some of his Emissaries
+into the Fields to carry on the Quest there for the said Souls’; and
+<i>Earthquake .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Peru</i>, iii, 303 (1748): ‘If the Friars
+go into the Country a questing for their Monastery.’</p>
+
+<p><i>Swart-Sisters.</i> Black Nuns. Dominicanesses, a feature of whose
+dresses is the cappa, a&nbsp;large black cloak and hood, worn from All
+Saints’ Day till the ‘Gloria’ on Easter Eve, and on all great
+solemnities.</p>
+
+<p><i>Jesuitesses.</i> A common misnomer for the original Congregation
+founded by Mary Ward (<i>ob.</i> 1645), and named by her ‘The Institute
+of Mary’. It was not until 1703 that they were fully approved by
+Clement&nbsp;XI.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "jilt_comm5" id = "jilt_comm5" href = "#jilt_commtag5">p.
+78</a>
+<i>Cordeliers.</i> Observant Franciscans, who follow the strict Rule of
+Poverty and observe all the fasts and austerities of the Order. This
+name was first given them in France, where later they were known as
+Recollects.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">125</span>
+<a name = "oroonoko" id = "oroonoko">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>OROONOKO; OR<br>
+THE ROYAL SLAVE.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">127</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "oroonoko_intro" id = "oroonoko_intro">
+INTRODUCTION.</a></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> tale of <i>Oroonoko, the Royal
+Slave</i> is indisputedly Mrs. Behn’s masterpiece in prose. Its
+originality and power have singled it out for a permanence and
+popularity none of her other works attained. It is vivid, realistic,
+pregnant with pathos, beauty, and truth, and not only has it so
+impressed itself upon the readers of more than two centuries, but
+further, it surely struck a new note in English literature and one which
+was re-echoed far and wide. It has been said that ‘<i>Oroonoko</i> is
+the first emancipation novel’, and there is no little acumen in this
+remark. Certainly we may absolve Mrs. Behn from having directly written
+with a purpose such as animated Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s <i>Uncle
+Tom’s Cabin</i>; but none the less her sympathy with the oppressed
+blacks, her deep emotions of pity for outraged humanity, her anger at
+the cruelties of the slave-driver aye ready with knout or knife, are
+manifest in every line. Beyond the intense interest of the pure
+narrative we have passages of a rhythm that is lyric, exquisitely
+descriptive of the picturesque tropical scenery and exotic vegetations,
+fragrant and luxuriant; there are intimate accounts of adventuring and
+primitive life; there are personal touches which lend a colour only
+personal touches can, as <ins class = "correction" title =
+"spelling unchanged">Aphara</ins> tells her prose-epic of her Superman,
+Cæsar the slave, Oroonoko the prince.</p>
+
+<p>It is not difficult to trace the influence of <i>Oroonoko</i>. We can
+see it in many an English author; in Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, in
+Chateaubriand. Her idyllic romance has inspired writers who perhaps but
+dimly remember even her name and her genius.</p>
+
+<p>It was often reprinted separately from the rest. There is a little
+12mo <i>Oroonoko</i>, ‘the ninth edition corrected’, published at
+Doncaster, 1759, ‘for C.&nbsp;Plummer’, which is rarely seen save in a
+torn and well-thumbed state.<a class = "tag" name = "tag_oroonoko_1" id
+= "tag_oroonoko_1" href = "#note_oroonoko_1">1</a></p>
+
+<p>In 1777 the sentimental and highly proper Mrs. Elizabeth Griffith
+included <i>Oroonoko</i> in her three volume <i>Collection of Novels
+selected and revised.</i> <i>Oroonoko</i>, ‘written originally by Mrs.
+Behn and revised by Mrs. Griffith’<a class = "tag" name =
+"tag_oroonoko_2" id = "tag_oroonoko_2" href = "#note_oroonoko_2">2</a>,
+was also issued separately, ‘price sixpence’<a class = "tag" name =
+"tag_oroonoko_3" id = "tag_oroonoko_3" href = "#note_oroonoko_3">3</a>,
+in 1800, frontispieced by a very crude picture of a black-a-moor about
+to attack a tiger.</p>
+
+<p>As early as 1709 we find <i>Lebens und Liebes-Geschichte des
+Königlichen Sclaven Oroonoko in West-Indien</i>, a&nbsp;German
+translation published at Hamburg, with a portrait of ‘Die Sinnreiche
+Engelländerin Mrs. Afra Behn.’</p>
+
+<p>In 1745 <i>Oroonoko</i> was ‘traduit de l’Anglois de Madame Behn,’
+with the motto from Lucan ‘Quo fata trahunt virtus secura sequetur.’
+There is a rhymed dedication ‘A&nbsp;Madame La M. P. D’l
+.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.’ (35&nbsp;lines), signed D.&nbsp;L.****, i.e.,
+Pierre-Antoine de la Place, a&nbsp;fecund but mediocre writer of the
+eighteenth century (1707-93), who also translated, <i>Venice
+Preserv’d</i>, <i>The Fatal Marriage</i>, <i>Tom Jones</i>, and other
+English masterpieces. There&nbsp;is
+<span class = "pagenum">128</span>
+another edition of de la Place’s version with fine plates engraved by
+C.&nbsp;Baron after Marillier, Londres, 1769.</p>
+
+<p>In 1696 Southerne’s great tragedy, founded upon Mrs. Behn’s novel,
+was produced at Drury Lane. Oroonoko was created by Verbruggen, Powell
+acted Aboan, and the beautiful Mrs. Rogers Imoinda. The play has some
+magnificent passages, and long kept the stage. Southerne had further
+added an excellent comic underplot, full of humour and the truest <i>vis
+comica</i>. It is perhaps worth noting that the intrigues of Lucy and
+Charlotte and the Lackitt <i>ménage</i> were dished up as a short
+slap-bang farce by themselves with, curiously enough, two or three
+scenes <i>in extenso</i> from Fletcher’s <i>Monsieur Thomas</i> (iii,
+<span class = "smallroman">III</span>, and v,&nbsp;<span class =
+"smallroman">II</span>). This hotch potch entitled <i>The Sexes
+Mis-match’d; or, A&nbsp;New Way to get a Husband</i> is printed in
+<i>The Strollers’ Pacquet open’d</i>. (12mo, 1741.) On 1&nbsp;December,
+1759, there was brought out at Drury Lane a most insipid alteration of
+<i>Oroonoko</i> by Dr. Hawkesworth, who omitted all Southerne’s lighter
+fare and inserted serious nonsense of his own. Garrick was the Oroonoko
+and Mrs. Cibber Imoinda. Although Hawkesworth’s version was not
+tolerated, the underplot was none the less pruned in later productions
+to such an extent that it perforce lost nearly all its pristine wit and
+fun. There is another adaption of Southerne: ‘<i>Oroonoko</i> altered
+from the original play .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. to which the editor has added
+near six hundred lines in place of the comic scenes, together with an
+addition of two new characters, intended for one of the theatres.’ (8vo,
+1760.) The two new characters are Maria, sister to the
+Lieutenant-Governor and contracted to Blandford, and one Heartwell; both
+thoroughly tiresome individuals. In the same year Frank Gentleman,
+a&nbsp;provincial actor, produced his idea of <i>Oroonoko</i> ‘as it was
+acted at Edinburgh.’ (12mo, 1760.) There is yet a fourth bastard: <i>The
+Prince of Angola</i>, by one J.&nbsp;Ferriar, ‘a&nbsp;tragedy altered
+from the play of <i>Oroonoko</i> and adapted to the circumstances of the
+present times.’<a class = "tag" name = "tag_oroonoko_4" id =
+"tag_oroonoko_4" href = "#note_oroonoko_4">4</a> (Manchester, 1788.) It
+must be confessed that all this tinkering with an original, which does
+not require from any point of view the slightest alteration or omission,
+is most uncalled for, crude, and unsuccessful.</p>
+
+<p>In 1698 William Walker, a lad nineteen years old, the son of a
+wealthy Barbadoes planter, wrote in three weeks a tragedy entitled
+<i>Victorious Love</i> (4to, 1698), which is confessedly a close
+imitation of Southerne’s theme. It was produced at Drury Lane in June,
+1698, with the author himself as Dafila, a&nbsp;youth, and young Mrs.
+Cross as the heroine Zaraida, ‘an European Shipwrack’d an Infant at
+Gualata’. Possibly Verbruggen acted Barnagasso, the captive king who
+corresponds to Oroonoko. The scene is laid in the Banze, or Palace of
+Tombut, whose Emperor, Jamoan, is Barnagasso’s rival in Zaraida’s love.
+There is a villain, Zanhaga, who after various more or less successful
+iniquities, poisons the Emperor; whereon hero and heroine are happily
+united. <i>Victorious Love</i> is far from being entirely a bad play; it
+is, however, very reminiscent of the heroic tragedies of two decades
+before.</p>
+
+<p>Southerne’s <i>Oroonoko</i> was (with some alterations) translated
+into German. This version is prose and probably either the work of
+W.&nbsp;H. von Dalberg or von Eisenthal. It has little merit, but proved
+popular and was printed in 1789 with a somewhat grotesque frontispiece
+of Oroonoko and Imoinda, both of whom are black ‘as pitch or as the
+cole’.</p>
+
+<div class = "footnote">
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_oroonoko_1" id = "note_oroonoko_1" href
+= "#tag_oroonoko_1">1</a>
+There were also many chap-books on similar themes which enjoyed no small
+popularity, e.g., <i>The Royal African; or, The Memoirs of the Young
+Prince of Annamaboe</i> (circa 1750), the romantic narrative of a negro
+prince, who became a slave in Barbadoes, from whence he was redeemed and
+brought to England.</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_oroonoko_2" id = "note_oroonoko_2" href
+= "#tag_oroonoko_2">2</a>
+Mis-spelt ‘Griffiths’ in the 1800 edition.</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_oroonoko_3" id = "note_oroonoko_3" href
+= "#tag_oroonoko_3">3</a>
+There was ‘a superior edition on a fine wove paper, Hot-pressed, with
+Proof Impressions of the Plates. Price only Nine-pence.’</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_oroonoko_4" id = "note_oroonoko_4" href
+= "#tag_oroonoko_4">4</a>
+The Agitation for the Abolition of the Slave Trade.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">[509]</span>
+
+<h4><a class = "comm" name = "oroonoko_dedic" id = "oroonoko_dedic" href
+= "#app_comm1">
+EPISTLE DEDICATORY.</a></h4>
+
+<h6>TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD MAITLAND.</h6>
+
+<p class = "mynote">
+The Epistle Dedicatory was printed as an Appendix; see Note.</p>
+
+<p>My Lord,</p>
+
+<p>Since the World is grown so Nice and Critical upon Dedications, and
+will Needs be Judging the Book by the Wit of the Patron; we ought, with
+a great deal of Circumspection to chuse a Person against whom there can
+be no Exception; and whose Wit and Worth truly Merits all that one is
+capable of saying upon that Occasion.</p>
+
+<p>The most part of Dedications are charg’d with Flattery; and if the
+World knows a Man has some Vices, they will not allow one to speak of
+his Virtues. This, My Lord, is for want of thinking Rightly; if Men
+wou’d consider with Reason, they wou’d have another sort of Opinion, and
+Esteem of Dedications; and wou’d believe almost every Great Man has
+enough to make him Worthy of all that can be said of him there. My Lord,
+a&nbsp;Picture-drawer, when he intends to make a good Picture, essays
+the Face many Ways, and in many Lights, before he begins; that he may
+chuse from the several turns of it, which is most Agreeable and gives it
+the best Grace; and if there be a Scar, an ungrateful Mole, or any
+little Defect, they leave it out; and yet make the Picture extreamly
+like: But he who has the good Fortune to draw a Face that is exactly
+Charming in all its Parts and Features, what Colours or Agreements can
+be added to make it Finer? All that he can give is but its due; and
+Glories in a Piece whose Original alone gives it its Perfection. An ill
+Hand may diminish, but a good Hand cannot augment its Beauty.
+A&nbsp;Poet is a Painter in his way; he draws to the Life, but in
+another kind; we draw the Nobler part, the Soul and Mind; the Pictures
+of the Pen shall out-last those of the Pencil, and even Worlds
+themselves. ’Tis a short Chronicle of those Lives that possibly wou’d be
+forgotten by other Historians, or lye neglected there, however deserving
+an immortal Fame; for Men of eminent Parts are as Exemplary as even
+Monarchs themselves; and Virtue is a noble Lesson to be learn’d, and
+’tis by Comparison we can Judge and Chuse. ’Tis by such illustrious
+Presidents as your Lordship the World can be Better’d and
+<span class = "pagenum">[510]</span>
+Refin’d; when a great part of the lazy Nobility shall, with Shame,
+behold the admirable Accomplishments of a Man so Great, and so
+Young.</p>
+
+<p>Your Lordship has Read innumerable Volumes of Men and Books, not
+Vainly for the gust of Novelty, but Knowledge, excellent Knowledge: Like
+the industrious Bee, from every Flower you return Laden with the
+precious Dew, which you are sure to turn to the Publick Good. You hoard
+no one Reflection, but lay it all out in the Glorious Service of your
+Religion and Country; to both which you are a useful and necessary
+Honour: They both want such Supporters; and ’tis only Men of so elevated
+Parts, and fine Knowledge; such noble Principles of Loyalty and Religion
+this Nation Sighs for. Where shall we find a Man so Young, like St.
+Augustine, in the midst of all his Youth and Gaiety, Teaching the World
+Divine Precepts, true Notions of Faith, and Excellent Morality, and, at
+the same time be also a perfect Pattern of all that accomplish a Great
+Man? You have, My Lord, all that refin’d Wit that Charms, and the
+Affability that Obliges; a&nbsp;Generosity that gives a Lustre to your
+Nobility; that Hospitality, and Greatness of Mind that ingages the
+World; and that admirable Conduct, that so well Instructs it. Our Nation
+ought to regret and bemoan their Misfortunes, for not being able to
+claim the Honour of the Birth of a Man who is so fit to serve his
+Majesty, and his Kingdoms in all Great and Publick Affairs; And to the
+Glory of your Nation, be it spoken, it produces more considerable Men,
+for all fine Sence, Wit, Wisdom, Breeding and Generosity (for the
+generality of the Nobility) than all other Nations can Boast; and the
+Fruitfulness of your Virtues sufficiently make amends for the Barrenness
+of your Soil: Which however cannot be incommode to your Lordship; since
+your Quality and the Veneration that the Commonalty naturally pay their
+Lords creates a flowing Plenty there .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. that makes you
+Happy. And to compleat your Happiness, my Lord, Heaven has blest you
+with a Lady, to whom it has given all the Graces, Beauties, and Virtues
+of her Sex; all the Youth, Sweetness of Nature, of a most illustrious
+Family; and who is a most rare Example to all Wives of Quality, for her
+eminent Piety, Easiness, and Condescention; and as absolutely merits
+Respect from all the World as she does that Passion and Resignation she
+receives from your Lordship; and which is, on her part, with so much
+Tenderness return’d. Methinks your tranquil Lives are an Image of the
+new Made and Beautiful Pair in Paradise: And ’tis the Prayers and Wishes
+of all, who have the Honour to know you, that it may Eternally so
+continue with Additions of all the Blessings this World can give
+you.</p>
+
+<p>My Lord, the Obligations I have to some of the Great Men of your
+Nation, particularly to your Lordship, gives me an Ambition of making my
+Acknowledgements by all the Opportunities I can; and such humble Fruits
+<span class = "pagenum">[511]</span>
+as my Industry produces I lay at your Lordship’s Feet. This is a true
+Story, of a Man Gallant enough to merit your Protection, and, had he
+always been so Fortunate, he had not made so Inglorious an end: The
+Royal Slave I had the Honour to know in my Travels to the other World;
+and though I had none above me in that Country yet I wanted power to
+preserve this Great Man. If there be anything that seems Romantick I
+beseech your Lordship to consider these Countries do, in all things, so
+far differ from ours that they produce unconceivable Wonders, at least,
+so they appear to us, because New and Strange. What I have mentioned I
+have taken care shou’d be Truth, let the Critical Reader judge as he
+pleases. ’Twill be no Commendation to the Book to assure your Lordship I
+writ it in a few Hours, though it may serve to Excuse some of its Faults
+of Connexion, for I never rested my Pen a Moment for Thought: ’Tis
+purely the Merit of my Slave that must render it worthy of the Honour it
+begs; and the Author of that of Subscribing herself,</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+My Lord<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp;</span>Your Lordship’s most oblig’d<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; </span>and obedient Servant<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; </span>A. Behn.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">129</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "oroonoko_main" id = "oroonoko_main">
+THE HISTORY OF</a><br>
+THE <i>ROYAL SLAVE</i>.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">I do</span> not pretend, in giving you the
+History of this <i>ROYAL SLAVE</i>, to entertain my Reader with the
+Adventures of a feign’d <i>Hero</i>, whose Life and Fortunes Fancy may
+manage at the Poet’s Pleasure; nor in relating the Truth, design to
+adorn it with any Accidents, but such as arrived in earnest to him: And
+it shall come simply into the World, recommended by its own proper
+Merits, and natural Intrigues; there being enough of Reality to support
+it, and to render it diverting, without the Addition of Invention.</p>
+
+<p>I was myself an Eye-witness to a great Part of what you will find
+here set down; and what I could not be Witness of, I&nbsp;receiv’d from
+the Mouth of the chief Actor in this History, the <i>Hero</i> himself,
+who gave us the whole Transactions of his Youth: And I shall omit, for
+Brevity’s Sake, a&nbsp;thousand little Accidents of his Life, which,
+however pleasant to us, where History was scarce, and Adventures very
+rare, yet might prove tedious and heavy to my Reader, in a World where
+he finds Diversions for every Minute, new and strange. But we who were
+perfectly charm’d with the Character of this great Man, were curious to
+gather every Circumstance of his Life.</p>
+
+<p>The Scene of the last Part of his Adventures lies in a Colony in
+<i>America</i>, called <i>Surinam</i>, in the <i>West-Indies</i>.</p>
+
+<p>But before I give you the Story of this <i>Gallant Slave</i>, ’tis
+fit I tell you the Manner of bringing them to these new <i>Colonies</i>;
+those they make Use of there, not being <i>Natives</i> of the Place: for
+those we live with in perfect Amity,
+<span class = "pagenum">130</span>
+without daring to command ’em; but, on the contrary, caress ’em with all
+the brotherly and friendly Affection in the World; trading with them for
+their Fish, Venison, Buffaloes Skins, and little Rarities; as
+<i>Marmosets</i>, a&nbsp;sort of Monkey, as big as a Rat or Weasel, but
+of a marvellous and delicate Shape, having Face and Hands like a Human
+Creature; and <i>Cousheries</i>, a&nbsp;little Beast in the Form and
+Fashion of a Lion, as big as a Kitten, but so exactly made in all Parts
+like that Noble Beast, that it is it in <i>Miniature</i>: Then for
+little <i>Paraketoes</i>, great <i>Parrots</i>, <i>Muckaws</i>, and a
+thousand other Birds and Beasts of wonderful and surprizing Forms,
+Shapes, and Colours: For Skins of prodigious Snakes, of which there are
+some three-score Yards in Length; as is the Skin of one that may be seen
+at his Majesty’s <i>Antiquary’s</i>; where are also some rare Flies, of
+amazing Forms and Colours, presented to ’em by myself; some as big as my
+Fist, some less; and all of various Excellencies, such as Art cannot
+imitate. Then we trade for Feathers, which they order into all Shapes,
+make themselves little short Habits of ’em, and glorious Wreaths for
+their Heads, Necks, Arms and Legs, whose Tinctures are unconceivable.
+I&nbsp;had a Set of these presented to me, and <a class = "comm" name =
+"oroonoko_commtag1" id = "oroonoko_commtag1" href = "#oroonoko_comm1">I
+gave ’em to the <i>King’s Theatre</i></a>; it was the Dress of the
+<i>Indian Queen</i>, infinitely admir’d by Persons of Quality; and was
+inimitable. Besides these, a&nbsp;thousand little Knacks, and Rarities
+in Nature; and some of Art, as their Baskets, Weapons, Aprons, &amp;c.
+We dealt with ’em with Beads of all Colours, Knives, Axes, Pins and
+Needles, which they us’d only as Tools to drill Holes with in their
+Ears, Noses and Lips, where they hang a great many little Things; as
+long Beads, Bits of Tin, Brass or Silver beat thin, and any shining
+Trinket. The Beads they weave into Aprons about a Quarter of an Ell
+long, and of the same Breadth; working them very prettily in Flowers of
+several Colours; which Apron they wear just before ’em, as <i>Adam</i>
+and <i>Eve</i> did the Fig-leaves; the Men wearing
+<span class = "pagenum">131</span>
+a long Stripe of Linen, which they deal with us for. They thread these
+Beads also on long Cotton-threads, and make Girdles to tie their Aprons
+to, which come twenty times, or more, about the Waste, and then cross,
+like a Shoulder-belt, both Ways, and round their Necks, Arms and Legs.
+This Adornment, with their long black Hair, and the Face painted in
+little Specks or Flowers here and there, makes ’em a wonderful Figure to
+behold. Some of the Beauties, which indeed are finely shap’d, as almost
+all are, and who have pretty Features, are charming and novel; for they
+have all that is called Beauty, except the Colour, which is a reddish
+Yellow; or after a new Oiling, which they often use to themselves, they
+are of the Colour of a new Brick, but smooth, soft and sleek. They are
+extreme modest and bashful, very shy, and nice of being touch’d. And
+tho’ they are all thus naked, if one lives for ever among ’em, there
+<ins class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘it’">is</ins> not to be
+seen an indecent Action, or Glance: and being continually us’d to see
+one another so unadorn’d, so like our first Parents before the Fall, it
+seems as if they had no Wishes, there being nothing to heighten
+Curiosity: but all you can see, you see at once, and every Moment see;
+and where there is no Novelty, there can be no Curiosity. Not but I have
+seen a handsome young <i>Indian</i>, dying for Love of a very beautiful
+young <i>Indian</i> Maid; but all his Courtship was, to fold his Arms,
+pursue her with his Eyes, and Sighs were all his Language: While she, as
+if no such Lover were present, or rather as if she desired none such,
+carefully guarded her Eyes from beholding him; and never approach’d him,
+but she looked down with all the blushing Modesty I have seen in the
+most Severe and Cautious of our World. And these People represented to
+me an absolute <i>Idea</i> of the first State of Innocence, before Man
+knew how to sin: And ’tis most evident and plain, that simple Nature is
+the most harmless, inoffensive and virtuous Mistress. ’Tis she alone, if
+she were permitted, that better instructs the
+<span class = "pagenum">132</span>
+World, than all the Inventions of Man: Religion would here but destroy
+that Tranquillity they possess by Ignorance; and Laws would but teach
+’em to know Offences, of which now they have no Notion. They once made
+Mourning and Fasting for the Death of the <i>English</i> Governor, who
+had given his Hand to come on such a Day to ’em, and neither came nor
+sent; believing, when a Man’s Word was past, nothing but Death could or
+should prevent his keeping it: And when they saw he was not dead, they
+ask’d him what Name they had for a Man who promis’d a Thing he did not
+do? The Governor told them, Such a Man was a <i>Lyar</i>, which was a
+Word of Infamy to a Gentleman. Then one of ’em reply’d, <i>Governor, you
+are a Lyar, and guilty of that Infamy</i>. They have a native Justice,
+which knows no Fraud; and they understand no Vice, or Cunning, but when
+they are taught by the <i>White</i> Men. They have Plurality of Wives;
+which, when they grow old, serve those that succeed ’em, who are young,
+but with a Servitude easy and respected; and unless they take Slaves in
+War, they have no other Attendants.</p>
+
+<p>Those on that <i>Continent</i> where I was, had no King; but the
+oldest War-Captain was obey’d with great Resignation.</p>
+
+<p>A War-Captain is a Man who has led them on to Battle with Conduct and
+Success; of whom I shall have Occasion to speak more hereafter, and of
+some other of their Customs and Manners, as they fall in my Way.</p>
+
+<p>With these People, as I said, we live in perfect Tranquillity, and
+good Understanding, as it behoves us to do; they knowing all the Places
+where to seek the best Food of the Country, and the Means of getting it;
+and for very small and unvaluable Trifles, supplying us with what ’tis
+almost impossible for us to get; for they do not only in the Woods, and
+over the <i>Sevana’s</i>, in Hunting, supply the Parts of Hounds, by
+swiftly scouring thro’ those almost impassable Places, and by the mere
+Activity of their Feet, run down the nimblest Deer, and other eatable
+<span class = "pagenum">133</span>
+Beasts; but in the Water, one would think they were Gods of the Rivers,
+or Fellow-Citizens of the Deep; so rare an Art they have in swimming,
+diving, and almost living in Water; by which they command the less swift
+Inhabitants of the Floods. And then for shooting, what they cannot take,
+or reach with their Hands, they do with Arrows; and have so admirable an
+Aim, that they will split almost an Hair, and at any Distance that an
+Arrow can reach: they will shoot down Oranges, and other Fruit, and only
+touch the Stalk with the Dart’s Point, that they may not hurt the Fruit.
+So that they being on all Occasions very useful to us, we find it
+absolutely necessary to caress ’em as Friends, and not to treat ’em as
+Slaves; nor dare we do otherwise, their Numbers so far surpassing ours
+in that Continent.</p>
+
+<p>Those then whom we make use of to work in our Plantations of Sugar,
+are <i>Negroes</i>, Black-Slaves altogether, who are transported thither
+in this Manner.</p>
+
+<p>Those who want Slaves, make a Bargain with a Master, or a Captain of
+a Ship, and contract to pay him so much apiece, a&nbsp;Matter of twenty
+Pound a Head, for as many as he agrees for, and to pay for ’em when they
+shall be deliver’d on such a Plantation: So that when there arrives a
+Ship laden with Slaves, they who have so contracted, go aboard, and
+receive their Number by Lot; and perhaps in one Lot that may be for ten,
+there may happen to be three or four Men, the rest Women and Children.
+Or be there more or less of either Sex, you are obliged to be contented
+with your Lot.</p>
+
+<p><i>Coramantien</i>, a Country of <i>Blacks</i> so called, was one of
+those Places in which they found the most advantageous Trading for these
+Slaves, and thither most of our great Traders in that Merchandize
+traffick; for that Nation is very warlike and brave; and having a
+continual Campaign, being always in Hostility with one neighbouring
+Prince or other, they had the Fortune to take a great many Captives: for
+all they took in Battle were sold as Slaves;
+<span class = "pagenum">134</span>
+at least those common Men who could not ransom themselves. Of these
+Slaves so taken, the General only has all the Profit; and of these
+Generals our Captains and Masters of Ships buy all their Freights.</p>
+
+<p>The King of <i>Coramantien</i> was of himself a Man of an hundred and
+odd Years old, and had no Son, tho’ he had many beautiful Black Wives:
+for most certainly there are Beauties that can charm of that Colour. In
+his younger Years he had had many gallant Men to his Sons, thirteen of
+whom died in Battle, conquering when they fell; and he had only left him
+for his Successor, one Grand-child, Son to one of these dead Victors,
+who, as soon as he could bear a Bow in his Hand, and a Quiver at his
+Back, was sent into the Field, to be train’d up by one of the oldest
+Generals to War; where, from his natural Inclination to Arms, and the
+Occasions given him, with the good Conduct of the old General, he
+became, at the Age of seventeen, one of the most expert Captains, and
+bravest Soldiers that ever saw the Field of <i>Mars</i>: so that he was
+ador’d as the Wonder of all that World, and the Darling of the Soldiers.
+Besides, he was adorn’d with a native Beauty, so transcending all those
+of his gloomy Race, that he struck an Awe and Reverence, even into those
+that knew not his Quality; as he did into me, who beheld him with
+Surprize and Wonder, when afterwards he arrived in our World.</p>
+
+<p>He had scarce arrived at his seventeenth Year, when, fighting by his
+Side, the General was kill’d with an Arrow in his Eye, which the Prince
+<i>Oroonoko</i> (for so was this gallant <i>Moor</i> call’d) very
+narrowly avoided; nor had he, if the General who saw the Arrow shot, and
+perceiving it aimed at the Prince, had not bow’d his Head between, on
+Purpose to receive it in his own Body, rather than it should touch that
+of the Prince, and so saved him.</p>
+
+<p>’Twas then, afflicted as <i>Oroonoko</i> was, that he was proclaimed
+General in the old Man’s Place: and then it was, at the finishing of
+that War, which had continu’d for two
+<span class = "pagenum">135</span>
+Years, that the Prince came to Court, where he had hardly been a Month
+together, from the Time of his fifth Year to that of seventeen: and
+’twas amazing to imagine where it was he learn’d so much Humanity; or to
+give his Accomplishments a juster Name, where ’twas he got that real
+Greatness of Soul, those refined Notions of true Honour, that absolute
+Generosity, and that Softness, that was capable of the highest Passions
+of Love and Gallantry, whose Objects were almost continually fighting
+Men, or those mangled or dead, who heard no Sounds but those of War and
+Groans. Some Part of it we may attribute to the Care of a
+<i>Frenchman</i> of Wit and Learning, who finding it turn to a very good
+Account to be a sort of Royal Tutor to this young Black, and perceiving
+him very ready, apt, and quick of Apprehension, took a great Pleasure to
+teach him Morals, Language and Science; and was for it extremely belov’d
+and valu’d by him. Another Reason was, he lov’d when he came from War,
+to see all the <i>English</i> Gentlemen that traded thither; and did not
+only learn their Language, but that of the <i>Spaniard</i> also, with
+whom he traded afterwards for Slaves.</p>
+
+<p>I have often seen and conversed with this Great Man, and been a
+Witness to many of his mighty Actions; and do assure my Reader, the most
+illustrious Courts could not have produced a braver Man, both for
+Greatness of Courage and Mind, a&nbsp;Judgment more solid, a&nbsp;Wit
+more quick, and a Conversation more sweet and diverting. He knew almost
+as much as if he had read much: He had heard of and admired the
+<i>Romans</i>: He had heard of the late Civil Wars in <i>England</i>,
+and the deplorable Death of our great Monarch; and would discourse of it
+with all the Sense and Abhorrence of the Injustice imaginable. He had an
+extreme good and graceful Mien, and all the Civility of a well-bred
+Great Man. He had nothing of Barbarity in his Nature, but in all Points
+address’d himself as if his Education had been in some <i>European</i>
+Court.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">136</span>
+<p>This great and just Character of <i>Oroonoko</i> gave me an extreme
+Curiosity to see him, especially when I knew he spoke <i>French</i> and
+<i>English</i>, and that I could talk with him. But tho’ I&nbsp;had
+heard so much of him, I&nbsp;was as greatly surprized when I saw him, as
+if I had heard nothing of him; so beyond all Report I found him. He came
+into the Room, and addressed himself to me, and some other Women, with
+the best Grace in the World. He was pretty tall, but of a Shape the most
+exact that can be fancy’d: The most famous Statuary could not form the
+Figure of a Man more admirably turn’d from Head to Foot. His Face was
+not of that brown rusty Black which most of that Nation are, but a
+perfect Ebony, or polished Jet. His Eyes were the most aweful that could
+be seen, and very piercing; the White of ’em being like Snow, as were
+his Teeth. His Nose was rising and <i>Roman</i>, instead of
+<i>African</i> and flat: His Mouth the finest shaped that could be seen;
+far from those great turn’d Lips, which are so natural to the rest of
+the Negroes. The whole Proportion and Air of his Face was so nobly and
+exactly form’d, that bating his Colour, there could be nothing in Nature
+more beautiful, agreeable and handsome. There was no one Grace wanting,
+that bears the Standard of true Beauty. His Hair came down to his
+Shoulders, by the Aids of Art, which was by pulling it out with a Quill,
+and keeping it comb’d; of which he took particular Care. Nor did the
+Perfections of his Mind come short of those of his Person; for his
+Discourse was admirable upon almost any Subject: and whoever had heard
+him speak, would have been convinced of their Errors, that all fine Wit
+is confined to the white Men, especially to those of Christendom; and
+would have confess’d that <i>Oroonoko</i> was as capable even of
+reigning well, and of governing as wisely, had as great a Soul, as
+politick Maxims, and was as sensible of Power, as any Prince civiliz’d
+in the most refined Schools of Humanity and Learning, or the most
+illustrious Courts.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">137</span>
+<p>This Prince, such as I have describ’d him, whose Soul and Body were
+so admirably adorned, was (while yet he was in the Court of his
+Grandfather, as I said) as capable of Love, as ’twas possible for a
+brave and gallant Man to be; and in saying that, I&nbsp;have named the
+highest Degree of Love: for sure great Souls are most capable of that
+Passion.</p>
+
+<p>I have already said, the old General was kill’d by the Shot of an
+Arrow, by the Side of this Prince, in Battle; and that <i>Oroonoko</i>
+was made General. This old dead Hero had one only Daughter left of his
+Race, a&nbsp;Beauty, that to describe her truly, one need say only, she
+was Female to the noble Male; the beautiful Black <i>Venus</i> to our
+young <i>Mars</i>; as charming in her Person as he, and of delicate
+Virtues. I&nbsp;have seen a hundred White Men sighing after her, and
+making a thousand Vows at her Feet, all in vain and unsuccessful. And
+she was indeed too great for any but a Prince of her own Nation to
+adore.</p>
+
+<p><i>Oroonoko</i> coming from the Wars (which were now ended) after he
+had made his Court to his Grandfather, he thought in Honour he ought to
+make a Visit to <i>Imoinda</i>, the Daughter of his Foster-father, the
+dead General; and to make some Excuses to her, because his Preservation
+was the Occasion of her Father’s Death; and to present her with those
+Slaves that had been taken in this last Battle, as the Trophies of her
+Father’s Victories. When he came, attended by all the young Soldiers of
+any Merit, he was infinitely surpriz’d at the Beauty of this fair Queen
+of Night, whose Face and Person were so exceeding all he had ever
+beheld, that lovely Modesty with which she receiv’d him, that Softness
+in her Look and Sighs, upon the melancholy Occasion of this Honour that
+was done by so great a Man as <i>Oroonoko</i>, and a Prince of whom she
+had heard such admirable Things; the Awfulness wherewith she receiv’d
+him, and the Sweetness of her Words and Behaviour while he stay’d,
+gain’d a perfect Conquest over
+<span class = "pagenum">138</span>
+his fierce Heart, and made him feel, the Victor could be subdu’d. So
+that having made his first Compliments, and presented her an hundred and
+fifty Slaves in Fetters, he told her with his Eyes, that he was not
+insensible of her Charms; while <i>Imoinda</i>, who wish’d for nothing
+more than so glorious a Conquest, was pleas’d to believe, she understood
+that silent Language of new-born Love; and, from that Moment, put on all
+her Additions to Beauty.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince return’d to Court with quite another Humour than before;
+and tho’ he did not speak much of the fair <i>Imoinda</i>, he had the
+Pleasure to hear all his Followers speak of nothing but the Charms of
+that Maid, insomuch, that, even in the Presence of the old King, they
+were extolling her, and heightning, if possible, the Beauties they had
+found in her: so that nothing else was talk’d of, no other Sound was
+heard in every Corner where there were Whisperers, but <i>Imoinda!
+Imoinda!</i></p>
+
+<p>’Twill be imagin’d <i>Oroonoko</i> stay’d not long before he made his
+second Visit; nor, considering his Quality, not much longer before he
+told her, he ador’d her. I&nbsp;have often heard him say, that he
+admir’d by what strange Inspiration he came to talk Things so soft, and
+so passionate, who never knew Love, nor was us’d to the Conversation of
+Women; but (to&nbsp;use his own Words) he said, ‘Most happily, some new,
+and, till then, unknown Power instructed his Heart and Tongue in the
+Language of Love; and at the same Time, in Favour of him, inspir’d
+<i>Imoinda</i> with a Sense of his Passion.’ She was touch’d with what
+he said, and return’d it all in such Answers as went to his very Heart,
+with a Pleasure unknown before. Nor did he use those Obligations ill,
+that Love had done him, but turn’d all his happy Moments to the best
+Advantage; and as he knew no Vice, his Flame aim’d at nothing but
+Honour, if such a Distinction may be made in Love; and especially in
+that Country, where Men take to themselves as many as they can maintain;
+and where
+<span class = "pagenum">139</span>
+the only Crime and Sin against a Woman, is, to turn her off, to abandon
+her to Want, Shame and Misery: such ill Morals are only practis’d in
+<i>Christian</i> Countries, where they prefer the bare Name of Religion;
+and, without Virtue or Morality, think that sufficient. But
+<i>Oroonoko</i> was none of those Professors; but as he had right
+Notions of Honour, so he made her such Propositions as were not only and
+barely such; but, contrary to the Custom of his Country, he made her
+Vows, she should be the only Woman he would possess while he liv’d; that
+no Age or Wrinkles should incline him to change: for her Soul would be
+always fine, and always young; and he should have an eternal <i>Idea</i>
+in his Mind of the Charms she now bore; and should look into his Heart
+for that <i>Idea</i>, when he could find it no longer in her Face.</p>
+
+<p>After a thousand Assurances of his lasting Flame, and her eternal
+Empire over him, she condescended to receive him for her Husband; or
+rather, receive him, as the greatest Honour the Gods could do her.</p>
+
+<p>There is a certain Ceremony in these Cases to be observ’d, which I
+forgot to ask how ’twas perform’d; but ’twas concluded on both Sides,
+that in Obedience to him, the Grandfather was to be first made
+acquainted with the Design: For they pay a most absolute Resignation to
+the Monarch, especially when he is a Parent also.</p>
+
+<p>On the other Side, the old King, who had many Wives, and many
+Concubines, wanted not Court-Flatterers to insinuate into his Heart a
+thousand tender Thoughts for this young Beauty; and who represented her
+to his Fancy, as the most charming he had ever possess’d in all the long
+Race of his numerous Years. At this Character, his old Heart, like an
+extinguish’d Brand, most apt to take Fire, felt new Sparks of Love, and
+began to kindle; and now grown to his second Childhood, long’d with
+Impatience to behold this gay Thing, with whom, alas! he could but
+innocently play. But how he should be confirm’d she was
+<span class = "pagenum">140</span>
+this <i>Wonder</i>, before he us’d his Power to call her to Court,
+(where Maidens never came, unless for the King’s private Use) he was
+next to consider; and while he was so doing, he had Intelligence brought
+him, that <i>Imoinda</i> was most certainly Mistress to the Prince
+<i>Oroonoko</i>. This gave him some Chagrine: however, it gave him also
+an Opportunity, one Day, when the Prince was a hunting, to wait on a Man
+of Quality, as his Slave and Attendant, who should go and make a Present
+to <i>Imoinda</i>, as from the Prince; he should then, unknown, see this
+fair Maid, and have an Opportunity to hear what Message she would return
+the Prince for his Present, and from thence gather the State of her
+Heart, and Degree of her Inclination. This was put in Execution, and the
+old Monarch saw, and burn’d: He found her all he had heard, and would
+not delay his Happiness, but found he should have some Obstacle to
+overcome her Heart; for she express’d her Sense of the Present the
+Prince had sent her, in Terms so sweet, so soft and pretty, with an Air
+of Love and Joy that could not be dissembled, insomuch that ’twas past
+Doubt whether she lov’d <i>Oroonoko</i> entirely. This gave the old King
+some Affliction; but he salv’d it with this, that the Obedience the
+People pay their King, was not at all inferior to what they paid their
+Gods; and what Love would not oblige <i>Imoinda</i> to do, Duty would
+compel her&nbsp;to.</p>
+
+<p>He was therefore no sooner got into his Apartment, but he sent the
+Royal Veil to <i>Imoinda</i>; that is the Ceremony of Invitation: He
+sends the Lady he has a Mind to honour with his Bed, a&nbsp;Veil, with
+which she is covered, and secur’d for the King’s Use; and ’tis Death to
+disobey; besides, held a most impious Disobedience.</p>
+
+<p>’Tis not to be imagin’d the Surprize and Grief that seiz’d the lovely
+Maid at this News and Sight. However, as Delays in these Cases are
+dangerous, and Pleading worse than Treason; trembling, and almost
+fainting, she was oblig’d to suffer herself to be cover’d, and led
+away.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">141</span>
+<p>They brought her thus to Court; and the King, who had caus’d a very
+rich Bath to be prepar’d, was led into it, where he sat under a Canopy,
+in State, to receive this long’d-for Virgin; whom he having commanded to
+be brought to him, they (after disrobing her) led her to the Bath, and
+making fast the Doors, left her to descend. The King, without more
+Courtship, bad her throw off her Mantle, and come to his Arms. But
+<i>Imoinda</i>, all in Tears, threw herself on the Marble, on the Brink
+of the Bath, and besought him to hear her. She told him, as she was a
+Maid, how proud of the Divine Glory she should have been, of having it
+in her Power to oblige her King: but as by the Laws he could not, and
+from his Royal Goodness would not take from any Man his wedded Wife; so
+she believ’d she should be the occasion of making him commit a great
+Sin, if she did not reveal her State and Condition; and tell him she was
+another’s, and could not be so happy to be his.</p>
+
+<p>The King, enrag’d at this Delay, hastily demanded the Name of the
+bold Man, that had married a Woman of her Degree, without his Consent.
+<i>Imoinda</i> seeing his Eyes fierce, and his Hands tremble, (whether
+with Age or Anger, I&nbsp;know not, but she fancy’d the last) almost
+repented she had said so much, for now she fear’d the Storm would fall
+on the Prince; she therefore said a thousand Things to appease the
+raging of his Flame, and to prepare him to hear who it was with
+Calmness: but before she spoke, he imagin’d who she meant, but would not
+seem to do so, but commanded her to lay aside her Mantle, and suffer
+herself to receive his Caresses, or, by his Gods he swore, that happy
+Man whom she was going to name should die, tho’ it was even
+<i>Oroonoko</i> himself. <i>Therefore</i> (said&nbsp;he) <i>deny this
+Marriage, and swear thyself a Maid. That</i> (reply’d <i>Imoinda</i>)
+<i>by all our Powers I do; for I am not yet known to my Husband. ’Tis
+enough</i> (said the King) <i>’tis enough both to satisfy my Conscience
+and my Heart.</i> And rising from his Seat, he
+<span class = "pagenum">142</span>
+went and led her into the Bath; it being in vain for her to resist.</p>
+
+<p>In this Time, the Prince, who was return’d from Hunting, went to
+visit his <i>Imoinda</i>, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard
+she had receiv’d the Royal Veil. This rais’d him to a Storm; and in his
+Madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on
+himself. Force first prevail’d, and then Reason: They urg’d all to him,
+that might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh’d so greatly with him as
+the King’s old Age, uncapable of injuring him with <i>Imoinda</i>. He
+would give Way to that Hope, because it pleas’d him most, and flatter’d
+best his Heart. Yet this serv’d not altogether to make him cease his
+different Passions, which sometimes rag’d within him, and soften’d into
+Showers. ’Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grandfather
+was old, and could not that Way injure him, while he retain’d that awful
+Duty which the young Men are us’d there to pay to their grave Relations.
+He could not be convinc’d he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss
+of a Mistress, he could not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve,
+and he would often cry, ‘Oh, my Friends! were she in wall’d Cities, or
+confin’d from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did
+Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me; I&nbsp;would venture thro’
+any Hazard to free her; But here, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my
+Youth, my violent Love, my Trade in Arms, and all my vast Desire of
+Glory, avail me nothing. <i>Imoinda</i> is as irrecoverably lost to me,
+as if she were snatch’d by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to
+be retrieved. If I would wait tedious Years; till Fate should bow the
+old King to his Grave, even that would not leave me <i>Imoinda</i> free;
+but still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry
+his Father’s Wives or Mistresses, would hinder my Happiness; unless I
+would either ignobly set an ill Precedent to my Successors, or abandon
+my Country, and
+<span class = "pagenum">143</span>
+fly with her to some unknown World who never heard our Story.’</p>
+
+<p>But it was objected to him, That his Case was not the same: for
+<i>Imoinda</i> being his lawful Wife by solemn Contract, ’twas he was
+the injur’d Man, and might, if he so pleas’d, take <i>Imoinda</i> back,
+the Breach of the Law being on his Grandfather’s Side; and that if he
+could circumvent him, and redeem her from the <i>Otan</i>, which is the
+Palace of the King’s Women, a&nbsp;sort of <i>Seraglio</i>, it was both
+just and lawful for him so to&nbsp;do.</p>
+
+<p>This Reasoning had some Force upon him, and he should have been
+entirely comforted, but for the Thought that she was possess’d by his
+Grandfather. However, he lov’d her so well, that he was resolv’d to
+believe what most favour’d his Hope, and to endeavour to learn from
+<i>Imoinda’s</i> own Mouth, what only she could satisfy him in, whether
+she was robb’d of that Blessing which was only due to his Faith and
+Love. But as it was very hard to get a Sight of the Women, (for no Men
+ever enter’d into the <i>Otan</i> but when the King went to entertain
+himself with some one of his Wives or Mistresses; and ’twas Death, at
+any other Time, for any other to go&nbsp;in) so he knew not how to
+contrive to get a Sight of her.</p>
+
+<p>While <i>Oroonoko</i> felt all the Agonies of Love, and suffer’d
+under a Torment the most painful in the World, the old King was not
+exempted from his Share of Affliction. He was troubled, for having been
+forc’d, by an irresistible Passion, to rob his Son of a Treasure, he
+knew, could not but be extremely dear to him; since she was the most
+beautiful that ever had been seen, and had besides, all the Sweetness
+and Innocence of Youth and Modesty, with a Charm of Wit surpassing all.
+He found, that however she was forc’d to expose her lovely Person to his
+wither’d Arms, she could only sigh and weep there, and think of
+<i>Oroonoko</i>; and oftentimes could not forbear speaking of him, tho’
+her Life were, by Custom, forfeited by owning her Passion.
+<span class = "pagenum">144</span>
+But she spoke not of a Lover only, but of a Prince dear to him to whom
+she spoke; and of the Praises of a Man, who, ’till now, fill’d the old
+Man’s Soul with Joy at every Recital of his Bravery, or even his Name.
+And ’twas this Dotage on our young Hero, that gave <i>Imoinda</i> a
+thousand Privileges to speak of him without offending; and this
+Condescension in the old King, that made her take the Satisfaction of
+speaking of him so very often.</p>
+
+<p>Besides, he many times enquir’d how the Prince bore himself: And
+those of whom he ask’d, being entirely Slaves to the Merits and Virtues
+of the Prince, still answer’d what <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘they they’">they</ins> thought conduc’d best to his
+Service; which was, to make the old King fancy that the Prince had no
+more Interest in <i>Imoinda</i>, and had resign’d her willingly to the
+Pleasure of the King; that he diverted himself with his Mathematicians,
+his Fortifications, his Officers, and his Hunting.</p>
+
+<p>This pleas’d the old Lover, who fail’d not to report these Things
+again to <i>Imoinda</i>, that she might, by the Example of her young
+Lover, withdraw her Heart, and rest better contented in his Arms. But,
+however she was forc’d to receive this unwelcome News, in all
+Appearance, with Unconcern and Content; her Heart was bursting within,
+and she was only happy when she could get alone, to vent her Griefs and
+Moans with Sighs and Tears.</p>
+
+<p>What Reports of the Prince’s Conduct were made to the King, he
+thought good to justify, as far as possibly he could, by his Actions;
+and when he appear’d in the Presence of the King, he shew’d a Face not
+at all betraying his Heart: so that in a little Time, the old Man, being
+entirely convinc’d that he was no longer a Lover of <i>Imoinda</i> he
+carry’d him with him in his Train to the <i>Otan</i>, often to banquet
+with his Mistresses. But as soon as he enter’d, one Day, into the
+Apartment of <i>Imoinda</i>, with the King, at the first Glance from her
+Eyes, notwith&shy;standing all his determined Resolution, he was ready
+to sink in the Place where he
+<span class = "pagenum">145</span>
+stood; and had certainly done so, but for the Support of <i>Aboan</i>,
+a&nbsp;young Man who was next to him; which, with his Change of
+Countenance, had betray’d him, had the King chanc’d to look that Way.
+And I have observ’d, ’tis a very great Error in those who laugh when one
+says, <i>A&nbsp;<em>Negro</em> can change Colour</i>: for I have seen
+’em as frequently blush, and look pale, and that as visibly as ever I
+saw in the most beautiful <i>White</i>. And ’tis certain, that both
+these Changes were evident, this Day, in both these Lovers. And
+<i>Imoinda</i>, who saw with some Joy the Change in the Prince’s Face,
+and found it in her own, strove to divert the King from beholding
+either, by a forc’d Caress, with which she met him; which was a new
+Wound in the Heart of the poor dying Prince. But as soon as the King was
+busy’d in looking on some fine Thing of <i>Imoinda’s</i> making, she had
+Time to tell the Prince, with her angry, but Love-darting Eyes, that she
+resented his Coldness, and bemoan’d her own miserable Captivity. Nor
+were his Eyes silent, but answer’d her’s again, as much as Eyes could
+do, instructed by the most tender and most passionate Heart that ever
+lov’d: And they spoke so well, and so effectually, as <i>Imoinda</i> no
+longer doubted but she was the only Delight and Darling of that Soul she
+found pleading in ’em its Right of Love, which none was more willing to
+resign than she. And ’twas this powerful Language alone that in an
+Instant convey’d all the Thoughts of their Souls to each other; that
+they both found there wanted but Opportunity to make them both entirely
+happy. But when he saw another Door open’d by <i>Onahal</i>
+(a&nbsp;former old Wife of the King’s, who now had Charge of
+<i>Imoinda</i>) and saw the Prospect of a Bed of State made ready, with
+Sweets and Flowers for the Dalliance of the King, who immediately led
+the trembling Victim from his Sight, into that prepar’d Repose; what
+Rage! what wild Frenzies seiz’d his Heart! which forcing to keep within
+Bounds, and to suffer without Noise, it became the more insupportable,
+<span class = "pagenum">146</span>
+and rent his Soul with ten thousand Pains. He was forc’d to retire to
+vent his Groans, where he fell down on a Carpet, and lay struggling a
+long Time, and only breathing now and then&mdash;Oh <i>Imoinda</i>! When
+<i>Onahal</i> had finished her necessary Affair within, shutting the
+Door, she came forth, to wait till the King called; and hearing some one
+sighing in the other Room, she pass’d on, and found the Prince in that
+deplorable Condition, which she thought needed her Aid. She gave him
+Cordials, but all in vain; till finding the Nature of his Disease, by
+his Sighs, and naming <i>Imoinda</i>, she told him he had not so much
+Cause as he imagined to afflict himself: for if he knew the King so well
+as she did, he would not lose a Moment in Jealousy; and that she was
+confident that <i>Imoinda</i> bore, at this Minute, Part in his
+Affliction. <i>Aboan</i> was of the same Opinion, and both together
+persuaded him to re-assume his Courage; and all sitting down on the
+Carpet, the Prince said so many obliging Things to <i>Onahal</i>, that
+he half-persuaded her to be of his Party: and she promised him, she
+would thus far comply with his just Desires, that she would let
+<i>Imoinda</i> know how faithful he was, what he suffer’d, and what he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>This Discourse lasted till the King called, which gave
+<i>Oroonoko</i> a certain Satisfaction; and with the Hope <i>Onahal</i>
+had made him conceive, he assumed a Look as gay as ’twas possible a Man
+in his Circumstances could do: and presently after, he was call’d in
+with the rest who waited without. The King commanded Musick to be
+brought, and several of his young Wives and Mistresses came all together
+by his Command, to dance before him; where <i>Imoinda</i> perform’d her
+Part with an Air and Grace so surpassing all the rest, as her Beauty was
+above ’em, and received the Present ordained as a Prize. The Prince was
+every Moment more charmed with the new Beauties and Graces he beheld in
+this Fair-One; and while he gazed, and she danc’d, <i>Onahal</i> was
+retired to a Window with <i>Aboan</i>.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">147</span>
+<p>This <i>Onahal</i>, as I said, was one of the Cast-Mistresses of the
+old King; and ’twas these (now past their Beauty) that were made
+Guardians or Governantees to the new and the young ones, and whose
+Business it was to teach them all those wanton Arts of Love, with which
+they prevail’d and charm’d heretofore in their Turn; and who now treated
+the triumphing Happy-ones with all the Severity, as to Liberty and
+Freedom, that was possible, in Revenge of the Honours they rob them of;
+envying them those Satisfactions, those Gallantries and Presents, that
+were once made to themselves, while Youth and Beauty lasted, and which
+they now saw pass, as it were regardless by, and paid only to the
+Bloomings. And certainly, nothing is more afflicting to a decay’d
+Beauty, than to behold in itself declining Charms, that were once
+ador’d; and to find those Caresses paid to new Beauties, to which once
+she laid Claim; to hear them whisper, as she passes by, that once was a
+delicate Woman. Those abandon’d ladies therefore endeavour to revenge
+all the Despights and Decays of Time, on these flourishing Happy-ones.
+And ’twas this Severity that gave <i>Oroonoko</i> a thousand Fears he
+should never prevail with <i>Onahal</i> to see <i>Imoinda</i>. But, as I
+said, she was now retir’d to a Window with <i>Aboan</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This young Man was not only one of the best Quality, but a Man
+extremely well made, and beautiful; and coming often to attend the King
+to the <i>Otan</i>, he had subdu’d the Heart of the antiquated
+<i>Onahal</i>, which had not forgot how pleasant it was to be in love.
+And tho’ she had some Decays in her Face, she had none in her Sense and
+Wit; she was there agreeable still, even to <i>Aboan’s</i> Youth: so
+that he took Pleasure in entertaining her with Discourses of Love. He
+knew also, that to make his Court to these She-favourites, was the Way
+to be great; these being the Persons that do all Affairs and Business at
+Court. He had also observed, that she had given him Glances more tender
+and inviting than she had done to others of
+<span class = "pagenum">148</span>
+his Quality. And now, when he saw that her Favour could so absolutely
+oblige the Prince, he fail’d not to sigh in her Ear, and look with Eyes
+all soft upon her, and gave her Hope that she had made some Impressions
+on his Heart. He found her pleas’d at this, and making a thousand
+Advances to him: but the Ceremony ending, and the King departing, broke
+up the Company for that Day, and his Conversation.</p>
+
+<p><i>Aboan</i> fail’d not that Night to tell the Prince of his Success,
+and how advantageous the Service of <i>Onahal</i> might be to his Amour
+with <i>Imoinda</i>. The Prince was overjoy’d with this good News, and
+besought him, if it were possible, to caress her so, as to engage her
+entirely, which he could not fail to do, if he comply’d with her
+Desires: <i>For then</i> (said the Prince) <i>her Life lying at your
+Mercy, she must grant you the Request you make in my Behalf</i>.
+<i>Aboan</i> understood him, and assur’d him he would make Love so
+effectually, that he would defy the most expert Mistress of the Art, to
+find out whether he dissembled it, or had it really. And ’twas with
+Impatience they waited the next Opportunity of going to the
+<i>Otan</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The Wars came on, the Time of taking the Field approached; and ’twas
+impossible for the Prince to delay his going at the Head of his Army to
+encounter the Enemy; so that every Day seem’d a tedious Year, till he
+saw his <i>Imoinda</i>: for he believed he could not live, if he were
+forced away without being so happy. ’Twas with Impatience therefore that
+he expected the next Visit the King would make; and, according to his
+Wish, it was not long.</p>
+
+<p>The Parley of the Eyes of these two Lovers had not pass’d so
+secretly, but an old jealous Lover could spy it; or rather, he wanted
+not Flatterers who told him they observ’d it: so that the Prince was
+hasten’d to the Camp, and this was the last Visit he found he should
+make to the <i>Otan</i>; he therefore urged <i>Aboan</i> to make the
+best of this last Effort, and to explain himself so to <i>Onahal</i>,
+that she
+<span class = "pagenum">149</span>
+deferring her Enjoyment of her young Lover no longer, might make Way for
+the Prince to speak to <i>Imoinda</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The whole Affair being agreed on between the Prince and <i>Aboan</i>,
+they attended the King, as the Custom was, to the <i>Otan</i>; where,
+while the whole Company was taken up in beholding the Dancing, and
+Antick Postures the Women-Royal made to divert the King, <i>Onahal</i>
+singled out <i>Aboan</i>, whom she found most pliable to her Wish. When
+she had him where she believed she could not be heard, she sigh’d to
+him, and softly cry’d, ‘Ah, <i>Aboan!</i> when will you be sensible of
+my Passion? I&nbsp;confess it with my Mouth, because I would not give my
+Eyes the Lye; and you have but too much already perceived they have
+confess’d my Flame: nor would I have you believe, that because I am the
+abandon’d Mistress of a King, I&nbsp;esteem myself altogether divested
+of Charms: No, <i>Aboan</i>; I have still a Rest of Beauty enough
+engaging, and have learn’d to please too well, not to be desirable.
+I&nbsp;can have Lovers still, but will have none but <i>Aboan</i>.
+Madam, (<i>reply’d the half-feigning Youth</i>) you have already, by my
+Eyes, found you can still conquer; and I believe ’tis in pity of me you
+condescend to this kind Confession. But, Madam, Words are used to be so
+small a Part of our Country-Courtship, that ’tis rare one can get so
+happy an Opportunity as to tell one’s Heart; and those few Minutes we
+have, are forced to be snatch’d for more certain Proofs of Love than
+speaking and sighing: and such I languish for.’</p>
+
+<p>He spoke this with such a Tone, that she hoped it true, and could not
+forbear believing it; and being wholly transported with Joy for having
+subdued the finest of all the King’s Subjects to her Desires, she took
+from her Ears two large Pearls, and commanded him to wear ’em in his. He
+would have refused ’em, crying, <i>Madam these are not the Proofs of our
+Love that I expect; ’tis Opportunity, ’tis a Lone-Hour only, that can
+make me happy.</i> But forcing the Pearls into his Hand, she whisper’d
+softly to him; <i>Oh!
+<span class = "pagenum">150</span>
+do not fear a Woman’s Invention, when Love sets her a thinking.</i> And
+pressing his Hand, she cry’d, <i>This Night you shall be happy. Come to
+the Gate of the Orange-Grove, behind the <em>Otan</em>, and I will be
+ready about midnight to receive you.</i> ’Twas thus agreed, and she left
+him, that no Notice might be taken of their speaking together.</p>
+
+<p>The Ladies were still dancing, and the King, laid on a Carpet, with a
+great deal of Pleasure was beholding them, especially <i>Imoinda</i>,
+who that Day appeared more lovely than ever, being enlivened with the
+good Tidings <i>Onahal</i> had brought her, of the constant Passion the
+Prince had for her. The Prince was laid on another Carpet at the other
+End of the Room, with his Eyes fixed on the Object of his Soul; and as
+she turned or moved, so did they; and she alone gave his Eyes and Soul
+their Motions. Nor did <i>Imoinda</i> employ her Eyes to any other use,
+than in beholding with infinite Pleasure the Joy she produced in those
+of the Prince. But while she was more regarding him than the Steps she
+took, she chanced to fall, and so near him, as that leaping with extreme
+Force from the Carpet, he caught her in his Arms as she fell; and ’twas
+visible to the whole Presence, the Joy wherewith he received her. He
+clasped her close to his Bosom, and quite forgot that Reverence that was
+due to the Mistress of a King, and that Punishment that is the Reward of
+a Boldness of this Nature. And had not the Presence of Mind of
+<i>Imoinda</i> (fonder of his Safety than her own) befriended him, in
+making her spring from his Arms, and fall into her Dance again, he had
+at that Instant met his Death; for the old King, jealous to the last
+Degree, rose up in Rage, broke all the Diversion, and led <i>Imoinda</i>
+to her Apartment, and sent out Word to the Prince, to go immediately to
+the Camp; and that if he were found another Night in Court, he should
+suffer the Death ordained for disobedient Offenders.</p>
+
+<p>You may imagine how welcome this News was to
+<span class = "pagenum">151</span>
+<i>Oroonoko</i>, whose unseasonable Transport and Caress of
+<i>Imoinda</i> was blamed by all Men that loved him: and now he
+perceived his Fault, yet cry’d, <i>That for such another Moment he would
+be content to die</i>.</p>
+
+<p>All the <i>Otan</i> was in Disorder about this Accident; and
+<i>Onahal</i> was particularly concern’d, because on the Prince’s Stay
+depended her Happiness; for she could no longer expect that of
+<i>Aboan</i>: So that e’er they departed, they contrived it so, that the
+Prince and he should both come that Night to the Grove of the
+<i>Otan</i>, which was all of Oranges and Citrons, and that there they
+would wait her Orders.</p>
+
+<p>They parted thus with Grief enough ’till Night, leaving the King in
+Possession of the lovely Maid. But nothing could appease the Jealousy of
+the old Lover; he would not be imposed on, but would have it, that
+<i>Imoinda</i> made a false Step on Purpose to fall into
+<i>Oroonoko’s</i> Bosom, and that all things looked like a Design on
+both Sides; and ’twas in vain she protested her Innocence: He was old
+and obstinate, and left her, more than half assur’d that his Fear was
+true.</p>
+
+<p>The King going to his Apartment, sent to know where the Prince was,
+and if he intended to obey his Command. The Messenger return’d, and told
+him, he found the Prince pensive, and altogether unprepar’d for the
+Campaign; that he lay negligently on the Ground, and answer’d very
+little. This confirmed the Jealousy of the King, and he commanded that
+they should very narrowly and privately watch his Motions; and that he
+should not stir from his Apartment, but one Spy or other should be
+employ’d to watch him: So that the Hour approaching, wherein he was to
+go to the Citron-Grove; and taking only <i>Aboan</i> along with him, he
+leaves his Apartment, and was watched to the very Gate of the
+<i>Otan</i>; where he was seen to enter, and where they left him, to
+carry back the Tidings to the King.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">152</span>
+<p><i>Oroonoko</i> and <i>Aboan</i> were no sooner enter’d, but
+<i>Onahal</i> led the Prince to the Apartment of <i>Imoinda</i>; who,
+not knowing any thing of her Happiness, was laid in Bed. But
+<i>Onahal</i> only left him in her Chamber, to make the best of his
+Opportunity, and took her dear <i>Aboan</i> to her own; where he shewed
+the Height of Complaisance for his Prince, when, to give him an
+Opportunity, he suffered himself to be caressed in Bed by
+<i>Onahal</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince softly waken’d <i>Imoinda</i>, who was not a little
+surpriz’d with Joy to find him there; and yet she trembled with a
+thousand Fears. I&nbsp;believe he omitted saying nothing to this young
+Maid, that might persuade her to suffer him to seize his own, and take
+the Rights of Love. And I believe she was not long resisting those Arms
+where she so longed to be; and having Opportunity, Night, and Silence,
+Youth, Love, and Desire, he soon prevail’d, and ravished in a Moment
+what his old Grandfather had been endeavouring for so many Months.</p>
+
+<p>’Tis not to be imagined the Satisfaction of these two young Lovers;
+nor the Vows she made him, that she remained a spotless Maid till that
+Night, and that what she did with his Grandfather had robb’d him of no
+Part of her Virgin-Honour; the Gods, in Mercy and Justice, having
+reserved that for her plighted Lord, to whom of Right it belonged. And
+’tis impossible to express the Transports he suffer’d, while he listen’d
+to a Discourse so charming from her loved Lips; and clasped that Body in
+his Arms, for whom he had so long languished; and nothing now afflicted
+him, but his sudden Departure from her; for he told her the Necessity,
+and his Commands, but should depart satisfy’d in this, That since the
+old King had hitherto not been able to deprive him of those Enjoyments
+which only belonged to him, he believed for the future he would be less
+able to injure him; so that, abating the Scandal of the Veil, which was
+no otherwise so, than that she was Wife to another, he believed her
+safe, even
+<span class = "pagenum">153</span>
+in the Arms of the King, and innocent; yet would he have ventur’d at the
+Conquest of the World, and have given it all to have had her avoided
+that Honour of receiving the <i>Royal Veil</i>. ’Twas thus, between a
+thousand Caresses, that both bemoan’d the hard Fate of Youth and Beauty,
+so liable to that cruel Promotion: ’Twas a Glory that could well have
+been spared here, tho’ desired and aim’d at by all the young Females of
+that Kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>But while they were thus fondly employ’d, forgetting how Time ran on,
+and that the Dawn must conduct him far away from his only Happiness,
+they heard a great Noise in the <i>Otan</i>, and unusual Voices of Men;
+at which the Prince, starting from the Arms of the frighted
+<i>Imoinda</i>, ran to a little Battle-Ax he used to wear by his Side;
+and having not so much Leisure as to put on his Habit, he opposed
+himself against some who were already opening the Door: which they did
+with so much Violence, that <i>Oroonoko</i> was not able to defend it;
+but was forced to cry out with a commanding Voice, ‘Whoever ye are that
+have the Boldness to attempt to approach this Apartment thus rudely;
+know, that I, the Prince <i>Oroonoko</i>, will revenge it with the
+certain Death of him that first enters: Therefore stand back, and know,
+this Place is sacred to Love and Me this Night; To-morrow ’tis the
+King’s.’</p>
+
+<p>This he spoke with a Voice so resolv’d and assur’d, that they soon
+retired from the Door; but cry’d, ‘’Tis by the King’s Command we are
+come; and being satisfy’d by thy Voice, O&nbsp;Prince, as much as if we
+had enter’d, we can report to the King the Truth of all his Fears, and
+leave thee to provide for thy own Safety, as thou art advis’d by thy
+Friends.’</p>
+
+<p>At these Words they departed, and left the Prince to take a short and
+sad Leave of his <i>Imoinda</i>; who, trusting in the Strength of her
+Charms, believed she should appease the Fury of a jealous King, by
+saying, she was surprized, and that it was by Force of Arms he got into
+her Apartment.
+<span class = "pagenum">154</span>
+All her Concern now was for his Life, and therefore she hasten’d him to
+the Camp, and with much ado prevail’d on him to go. Nor was it she alone
+that prevail’d; <i>Aboan</i> and <i>Onahal</i> both pleaded, and both
+assured him of a Lye that should be well enough contrived to secure
+<i>Imoinda</i>. So that at last, with a Heart sad as Death, dying Eyes,
+and sighing Soul, <i>Oroonoko</i> departed, and took his way to the
+Camp.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long after, the King in Person came to the <i>Otan</i>;
+where beholding <i>Imoinda</i>, with Rage in his Eyes, he upbraided her
+Wickedness, and Perfidy; and threatning her Royal Lover, she fell on her
+Face at his Feet, bedewing the Floor with her Tears, and imploring his
+Pardon for a Fault which she had not with her Will committed; as
+<i>Onahal</i>, who was also prostrate with her, could testify: That,
+unknown to her, he had broke into her Apartment, and ravished her. She
+spoke this much against her Conscience; but to save her own Life, ’twas
+absolutely necessary she should feign this Falsity. She knew it could
+not injure the Prince, he being fled to an Army that would stand by him,
+against any Injuries that should assault him. However, this last Thought
+of <i>Imoinda’s</i> being ravished, changed the Measures of his Revenge;
+and whereas before he designed to be himself her Executioner, he now
+resolved she should not die. But as it is the greatest Crime in Nature
+amongst them, to touch a Woman after having been possess’d by a Son,
+a&nbsp;Father, or a Brother, so now he looked on <i>Imoinda</i> as a
+polluted thing wholly unfit for his Embrace; nor would he resign her to
+his Grandson, because she had received the <i>Royal Veil</i>: He
+therefore removes her from the <i>Otan</i>, with <i>Onahal</i>; whom he
+put into safe Hands, with Order they should be both sold off as Slaves
+to another Country, either <i>Christian</i> or <i>Heathen</i>, ’twas no
+Matter where.</p>
+
+<p>This cruel Sentence, worse than Death, they implor’d might be
+reversed; but their Prayers were vain, and it was
+<span class = "pagenum">155</span>
+put in Execution accordingly, and that with so much Secrecy, that none,
+either without or within the <i>Otan</i>, knew any thing of their
+Absence, or their Destiny.</p>
+
+<p>The old King nevertheless executed this with a great deal of
+Reluctancy; but he believed he had made a very great Conquest over
+himself, when he had once resolved, and had perform’d what he resolved.
+He believed now, that his Love had been unjust; and that he could not
+expect the Gods, or <i>Captain of the Clouds</i> (as&nbsp;they call the
+unknown Power) would suffer a better Consequence from so ill a Cause. He
+now begins to hold <i>Oroonoko</i> excused; and to say, he had reason
+for what he did. And now every body could assure the King how
+passionately <i>Imoinda</i> was beloved by the Prince; even those
+confess’d it now, who said the contrary before his Flame was not abated.
+So that the King being old, and not able to defend himself in War, and
+having no Sons of all his Race remaining alive, but only this, to
+maintain him on his Throne; and looking on this as a man disobliged,
+first by the Rape of his Mistress, or rather Wife, and now by depriving
+him wholly of her, he fear’d, might make him desperate, and do some
+cruel thing, either to himself or his old Grandfather the Offender, he
+began to repent him extremely of the Contempt he had, in his Rage, put
+on <i>Imoinda</i>. Besides, he consider’d he ought in Honour to have
+killed her for this Offence, if it had been one. He ought to have had so
+much Value and Consideration for a Maid of her Quality, as to have nobly
+put her to Death, and not to have sold her like a common Slave; the
+greatest Revenge, and the most disgraceful of any, and to which they a
+thousand times prefer Death, and implore it; as <i>Imoinda</i> did, but
+could not obtain that Honour. Seeing therefore it was certain that
+<i>Oroonoko</i> would highly resent this Affront, he thought good to
+make some Excuse for his Rashness to him; and to that End, he sent a
+Messenger to the Camp, with Orders to treat with him about the Matter,
+to gain
+<span class = "pagenum">156</span>
+his Pardon, and endeavour to mitigate his Grief: but that by no Means he
+should tell him she was sold, but secretly put to Death; for he knew he
+should never obtain his Pardon for the other.</p>
+
+<p>When the Messenger came, he found the Prince upon the Point of
+engaging with the Enemy; but as soon as he heard of the Arrival of the
+Messenger, he commanded him to his Tent, where he embraced him, and
+received him with Joy; which was soon abated by the down-cast Looks of
+the Messenger, who was instantly demanded the Cause by <i>Oroonoko</i>;
+who, impatient of Delay, ask’d a thousand Questions in a Breath, and all
+concerning <i>Imoinda</i>. But there needed little Return; for he could
+almost answer himself of all he demanded, from his Sight and Eyes. At
+last the Messenger casting himself at the Prince’s Feet, and kissing
+them with all the Submission of a Man that had something to implore
+which he dreaded to utter, besought him to hear with Calmness what he
+had to deliver to him, and to call up all his noble and heroick Courage,
+to encounter with his Words, and defend himself against the ungrateful
+Things he had to relate. <i>Oroonoko</i> reply’d, with a deep Sigh, and
+a languishing Voice,&mdash;<i>I am armed against their worst
+Efforts&mdash;For I know they will tell me, <em>Imoinda</em> is no
+more&mdash;And after that, you may spare the rest.</i> Then, commanding
+him to rise, he laid himself on a Carpet, under a rich Pavilion, and
+remained a good while silent, and was hardly heard to sigh. When he was
+come a little to himself, the Messenger asked him Leave to deliver that
+Part of his Embassy which the Prince had not yet divin’d: And the Prince
+cry’d, <i>I&nbsp;permit thee</i>&mdash;Then he told him the Affliction
+the old King was in, for the Rashness he had committed in his Cruelty to
+<i>Imoinda</i>; and how he deign’d to ask Pardon for his Offence, and to
+implore the Prince would not suffer that Loss to touch his Heart too
+sensibly, which now all the Gods could not restore him, but might
+recompense him in Glory, which he begged he
+<span class = "pagenum">157</span>
+would pursue; and that Death, that common Revenger of all Injuries,
+would soon even the Account between him and a feeble old Man.</p>
+
+<p><i>Oroonoko</i> bad him return his Duty to his Lord and Master; and
+to assure him, there was no Account of Revenge to be adjudged between
+them; If there was, he was the Aggressor, and that Death would be just,
+and, maugre his Age, would see him righted; and he was contented to
+leave his Share of Glory to Youths more fortunate and worthy of that
+Favour from the Gods: That henceforth he would never lift a Weapon, or
+draw a Bow, but abandon the small Remains of his Life to Sighs and
+Tears, and the continual Thoughts of what his Lord and Grandfather had
+thought good to send out of the World, with all that Youth, that
+Innocence and Beauty.</p>
+
+<p>After having spoken this, whatever his greatest Officers and Men of
+the best Rank could do, they could not raise him from the Carpet, or
+persuade him to Action, and Resolutions of Life; but commanding all to
+retire, he shut himself into his Pavilion all that Day, while the Enemy
+was ready to engage: and wondring at the Delay, the whole Body of the
+chief of the Army then address’d themselves to him, and to whom they had
+much ado to get Admittance. They fell on their Faces at the Foot of his
+Carpet, where they lay, and besought him with earnest Prayers and Tears
+to lead them forth to Battle, and not let the Enemy take Advantages of
+them; and implored him to have Regard to his Glory, and to the World,
+that depended on his Courage and Conduct. But he made no other Reply to
+all their Supplications than this, That he had now no more Business for
+Glory; and for the World, it was a Trifle not worth his Care: <i>Go</i>,
+(continued he, sighing) <i>and divide it amongst you, and reap with Joy
+what you so vainly prize, and leave me to my more welcome
+Destiny.</i></p>
+
+<p>They then demanded what they should do, and whom he would constitute
+in his Room, that the Confusion of
+<span class = "pagenum">158</span>
+ambitious Youth and Power might not ruin their Order, and make them a
+Prey to the Enemy. He reply’d, he would not give himself that
+Trouble&mdash;but wished ’em to chuse the bravest Man amongst ’em, let
+his Quality or Birth be what it would: ‘For, Oh my Friends!
+(says&nbsp;he) it is not Titles make Men Brave or Good; or Birth that
+bestows Courage and Generosity, or makes the Owner Happy. Believe this,
+when you behold <i>Oroonoko</i> the most wretched, and abandoned by
+Fortune, of all the Creation of the Gods.’ So turning himself about, he
+would make no more Reply to all they could urge or implore.</p>
+
+<p>The Army beholding their Officers return unsuccessful, with sad Faces
+and ominous Looks, that presaged no good Luck, suffer’d a thousand Fears
+to take Possession of their Hearts, and the Enemy to come even upon them
+before they could provide for their Safety by any Defence: and tho’ they
+were assured by some who had a Mind to animate them, that they should be
+immediately headed by the Prince; and that in the mean time <i>Aboan</i>
+had Orders to command as General; yet they were so dismay’d for want of
+that great Example of Bravery, that they could make but a very feeble
+Resistance; and, at last, down-right fled before the Enemy, who pursued
+’em to the very Tents, killing ’em: Nor could all <i>Aboan’s</i>
+Courage, which that Day gained him immortal Glory, shame ’em into a
+manly Defence of themselves. The Guards that were left behind about the
+Prince’s Tent, seeing the Soldiers flee before the Enemy, and scatter
+themselves all over the Plain, in great Disorder, made such Out-cries,
+as rouz’d the Prince from his amorous Slumber, in which he had remained
+buried for two Days, without permitting any Sustenance to approach him.
+But, in Spite of all his Resolutions, he had not the Constancy of Grief
+to that Degree, as to make him insensible of the Danger of his Army; and
+in that Instant he leaped from his Couch, and cry’d&mdash;‘Come, if we
+must die, let us meet Death the noblest Way; and ’twill be
+<span class = "pagenum">159</span>
+more like <i>Oroonoko</i> to encounter him at an Army’s Head, opposing
+the Torrent of a conquering Foe, than lazily on a Couch, to wait his
+lingering Pleasure, and die every Moment by a thousand racking Thoughts;
+or be tamely taken by an Enemy, and led a whining, love-sick Slave to
+adorn the Triumphs of <i>Jamoan</i>, that young Victor, who already is
+enter’d beyond the Limits I have prescrib’d him.’</p>
+
+<p>While he was speaking, he suffer’d his People to dress him for the
+Field; and sallying out of his Pavilion, with more Life and Vigour in
+his Countenance than ever he shew’d, he appear’d like some Divine Power
+descended to save his Country from Destruction: And his People had
+purposely put him on all Things that might make him shine with most
+Splendor, to strike a reverend Awe into the Beholders. He flew into the
+thickest of those that were pursuing his Men; and being animated with
+Despair, he fought as if he came on Purpose to die, and did such Things
+as will not be believed that human Strength could perform; and such, as
+soon inspir’d all the rest with new Courage, and new Ardor. And now it
+was that they began to fight indeed; and so, as if they would not be
+out-done even by their ador’d Hero; who turning the Tide of the Victory,
+changing absolutely the Fate of the Day, gain’d an entire Conquest: And
+<i>Oroonoko</i> having the good Fortune to single out <i>Jamoan</i>, he
+took him Prisoner with his own Hand, having wounded him almost to
+Death.</p>
+
+<p>This <i>Jamoan</i> afterwards became very dear to him, being a Man
+very Gallant, and of excellent Graces, and fine Parts; so that he never
+put him amongst the Rank of Captives as they used to do, without
+Distinction, for the common Sale, or Market, but kept him in his own
+Court, where he retain’d nothing of the Prisoner but the Name, and
+returned no more into his own Country; so great an Affection he took for
+<i>Oroonoko</i>, and by a thousand Tales and Adventures of Love and
+Gallantry, flatter’d his Disease of Melancholy and Languishment; which I
+have often heard
+<span class = "pagenum">160</span>
+him say, had certainly kill’d him, but for the Conversation of this
+Prince and <i>Aboan</i>, and the <i>French</i> Governor he had from his
+Childhood, of whom I have spoken before, and who was a Man of admirable
+Wit, great Ingenuity and Learning; all which he had infused into his
+young Pupil. This <i>Frenchman</i> was banished out of his own Country
+for some Heretical Notions he held; and tho’ he was a Man of very little
+Religion, yet he had admirable Morals, and a brave Soul.</p>
+
+<p>After the total Defeat of <i>Jamoan’s</i> Army, which all fled, or
+were left dead upon the Place, they spent some Time in the Camp;
+<i>Oroonoko</i> chusing rather to remain a While there in his Tents,
+than to enter into a Palace, or live in a Court where he had so lately
+suffer’d so great a Loss, the Officers therefore, who saw and knew his
+Cause of Discontent, invented all sorts of Diversions and Sports to
+entertain their Prince: So that what with those Amusements abroad, and
+others at home, that is, within their Tents, with the Persuasions,
+Arguments, and Care of his Friends and Servants that he more peculiarly
+priz’d, he wore off in Time a great Part of that Chagrin, and Torture of
+Despair, which the first Efforts of <i>Imoinda’s</i> Death had given
+him; insomuch, as having received a thousand kind Embassies from the
+King, and Invitation to return to Court, he obey’d, tho’ with no little
+Reluctancy; and when he did so, there was a visible Change in him, and
+for a long Time he was much more melancholy than before. But Time
+lessens all Extremes, and reduces ’em to Mediums, and Unconcern; but no
+Motives of Beauties, tho’ all endeavour’d it, could engage him in any
+sort of Amour, tho’ he had all the Invitations to it, both from his own
+Youth, and other Ambitions and Designs.</p>
+
+<p><i>Oroonoko</i> was no sooner return’d from this last Conquest, and
+receiv’d at Court with all the Joy and Magnificence that could be
+express’d to a young Victor, who was not only return’d Triumphant, but
+belov’d like a Deity, than there arriv’d in the Port an <i>English</i>
+Ship.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">161</span>
+<p>The Master of it had often before been in these Countries, and was
+very well known to <i>Oroonoko</i>, with whom he had traffick’d for
+Slaves, and had us’d to do the same with his Predecessors.</p>
+
+<p>This Commander was a Man of a finer sort of Address and Conversation,
+better bred, and more engaging, than most of that sort of Men are; so
+that he seem’d rather never to have been bred out of a Court, than
+almost all his Life at Sea. This Captain therefore was always better
+receiv’d at Court, than most of the Traders to those Countries were; and
+especially by <i>Oroonoko</i>, who was more civiliz’d, according to the
+<i>European</i> Mode, than any other had been, and took more Delight in
+the <i>White</i> Nations; and, above all, Men of Parts and Wit. To this
+Captain he sold abundance of his Slaves; and for the Favour and Esteem
+he had for him, made him many Presents, and oblig’d him to stay at Court
+as long as possibly he could. Which the Captain seem’d to take as a very
+great Honour done him, entertaining the Prince every Day with Globes and
+Maps, and Mathematical Discourses and Instruments; eating, drinking,
+hunting, and living with him with so much Familiarity, that it was not
+to be doubted but he had gain’d very greatly upon the Heart of this
+gallant young Man. And the Captain, in Return of all these mighty
+Favours, besought the Prince to honour his Vessel with his Presence some
+Day or other at Dinner, before he should set sail; which he condescended
+to accept, and appointed his Day. The Captain, on his Part, fail’d not
+to have all Things in a Readiness, in the most magnificent Order he
+could possibly: And the Day being come, the Captain, in his Boat, richly
+adorn’d with Carpets and Velvet Cushions, rowed to the Shore, to receive
+the Prince; with another Long-boat, where was plac’d all his Musick and
+Trumpets, with which <i>Oroonoko</i> was extremely delighted; who met
+him on the Shore, attended by his <i>French</i> Governor, <i>Jamoan</i>,
+<i>Aboan</i>, and about an Hundred of the noblest of the Youths
+<span class = "pagenum">162</span>
+of the Court: And after they had first carried the Prince on Board, the
+Boats fetch’d the rest off; where they found a very splendid Treat, with
+all Sorts of fine Wines; and were as well entertain’d, as ’twas possible
+in such a Place to&nbsp;be.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince having drank hard of Punch, and several Sorts of Wine, as
+did all the rest, (for great Care was taken they should want nothing of
+that Part of the Entertainment) was very merry, and in great Admiration
+of the Ship, for he had never been in one before; so that he was curious
+of beholding every Place where he decently might descend. The rest, no
+less curious, who were not quite overcome with drinking, rambled at
+their Pleasure <i>Fore</i> and <i>Aft</i>, as their Fancies guided ’em:
+So that the Captain, who had well laid his Design before, gave the Word,
+and seiz’d on all his Guests; they clapping great Irons suddenly on the
+Prince, when he was leap’d down into the Hold, to view that Part of the
+Vessel; and locking him fast down, secur’d him. The same Treachery was
+used to all the rest; and all in one Instant, in several Places of the
+Ship, were lash’d fast in Irons, and betray’d to Slavery. That great
+Design over, they set all Hands at Work to hoist Sail; and with as
+treacherous as fair a Wind they made from the Shore with this innocent
+and glorious Prize, who thought of nothing less than such an
+Entertainment.</p>
+
+<p>Some have commended this Act, as brave in the Captain; but I will
+spare my Sense of it, and leave it to my Reader to judge as he pleases.
+It may be easily guess’d, in what Manner the Prince resented this
+Indignity, who may be best resembled to a Lion taken in a Toil; so he
+raged, so he struggled for Liberty, but all in vain: And they had so
+wisely managed his Fetters, that he could not use a Hand in his Defence,
+to quit himself of a Life that would by no Means endure Slavery; nor
+could he move from the Place where he was ty’d, to any solid Part of the
+Ship, against which he might have beat his Head, and have finish’d
+<span class = "pagenum">163</span>
+his Disgrace that Way. So that being deprived of all other Means, he
+resolv’d to perish for want of Food; and pleas’d at last with that
+Thought, and toil’d and tir’d by Rage and Indignation, he laid himself
+down, and sullenly resolv’d upon dying, and refused all Things that were
+brought him.</p>
+
+<p>This did not a little vex the Captain, and the more so, because he
+found almost all of ’em of the same Humour; so that the Loss of so many
+brave Slaves, so tall and goodly to behold, would have been very
+considerable: He therefore order’d one to go from him (for he would not
+be seen himself) to <i>Oroonoko</i>, and to assure him, he was afflicted
+for having rashly done so unhospitable a Deed, and which could not be
+now remedied, since they were far from Shore; but since he resented it
+in so high a Nature, he assur’d him he would revoke his Resolution, and
+set both him and his Friends ashore on the next Land they should touch
+at; and of this the Messenger gave him his Oath, provided he would
+resolve to live. And <i>Oroonoko</i>, whose Honour was such, as he never
+had violated a Word in his Life himself, much less a solemn
+Asseveration, believ’d in an Instant what this Man said; but reply’d, He
+expected, for a Confirmation of this, to have his shameful Fetters
+dismis’d. This Demand was carried to the Captain; who return’d him
+Answer, That the Offence had been so great which he had put upon the
+Prince, that he durst not trust him with Liberty while he remain’d in
+the Ship, for fear, lest by a Valour natural to him, and a Revenge that
+would animate that Valour, he might commit some Outrage fatal to
+himself, and the King his Master, to whom the Vessel did belong. To this
+<i>Oroonoko</i> reply’d, He would engage his Honour to behave himself in
+all friendly Order and Manner, and obey the Command of the Captain, as
+he was Lord of the King’s Vessel, and General of those Men under his
+Command.</p>
+
+<p>This was deliver’d to the still doubting Captain, who could not
+resolve to trust a Heathen, he said, upon his
+<span class = "pagenum">164</span>
+Parole, a&nbsp;Man that had no Sense or Notion of the God that he
+worshipp’d. <i>Oroonoko</i> then reply’d, He was very sorry to hear that
+the Captain pretended to the Knowledge and Worship of any Gods, who had
+taught him no better Principles, than not to credit as he would be
+credited. But they told him, the Difference of their Faith occasion’d
+that Distrust: for the Captain had protested to him upon the Word of a
+Christian, and sworn in the Name of a great <span class =
+"smallcaps">God</span>; which if he should violate, he must expect
+eternal Torments in the World to come. ‘Is that all the Obligations he
+has to be just to his Oath? (reply’d <i>Oroonoko</i>) Let him know,
+I&nbsp;swear by my Honour; which to violate, would not only render me
+contemptible and despised by all brave and honest Men, and so give my
+self perpetual Pain, but it would be eternally offending and displeasing
+all Mankind; harming, betraying, circumventing, and outraging all Men.
+But Punishments hereafter are suffer’d by one’s self; and the World
+takes no Cognizance whether this <span class = "smallcaps">God</span>
+has reveng’d ’em or not, ’tis done so secretly, and deferr’d so long;
+while the Man of no Honour suffers every Moment the Scorn and Contempt
+of the honester World, and dies every Day ignominiously in his Fame,
+which is more valuable than Life. I&nbsp;speak not this to move Belief,
+but to shew you how you mistake, when you imagine, that he who will
+violate his Honour, will keep his Word with his <i>Gods</i>.’ So,
+turning from him with a disdainful Smile, he refused to answer him, when
+he urged him to know what Answer he should carry back to his Captain; so
+that he departed without saying any more.</p>
+
+<p>The Captain pondering and consulting what to do, it was concluded,
+that nothing but <i>Oroonoko’s</i> Liberty would encourage any of the
+rest to eat, except the <i>Frenchman</i>, whom the Captain could not
+pretend to keep Prisoner, but only told him, he was secur’d, because he
+might act something in Favour of the Prince; but that he should be freed
+as soon as they came to Land. So that they
+<span class = "pagenum">165</span>
+concluded it wholly necessary to free the Prince from his Irons, that he
+might shew himself to the rest; that they might have an Eye upon him,
+and that they could not fear a single Man.</p>
+
+<p>This being resolved, to make the Obligation the greater, the Captain
+himself went to <i>Oroonoko</i>; where, after many Compliments, and
+Assurances of what he had already promis’d, he receiving from the Prince
+his Parole, and his Hand, for his good Behaviour, dismiss’d his Irons,
+and brought him to his own Cabin; where, after having treated and
+repos’d him a While, (for he had neither eat nor slept in four Days
+before) he besought him to visit those obstinate People in Chains, who
+refused all manner of Sustenance; and intreated him to oblige ’em to
+eat, and assure ’em of their Liberty the first Opportunity.</p>
+
+<p><i>Oroonoko</i>, who was too generous not to give Credit to his
+Words, shew’d himself to his People, who were transported with Excess of
+Joy at the Sight of their darling Prince; falling at his Feet, and
+kissing and embracing ’em; believing, as some divine Oracle, all he
+assur’d ’em. But he besought ’em to bear their Chains with that Bravery
+that became those whom he had seen act so nobly in Arms; and that they
+could not give him greater Proofs of their Love and Friendship, since
+’twas all the Security the Captain (his Friend) could have against the
+Revenge, he said, they might possibly justly take for the Injuries
+sustained by him. And they all, with one Accord, assur’d him, that they
+could not suffer enough, when it was for his Repose and Safety.</p>
+
+<p>After this, they no longer refus’d to eat, but took what was brought
+’em, and were pleas’d with their Captivity, since by it they hoped to
+redeem the Prince, who, all the rest of the Voyage, was treated with all
+the Respect due to his Birth, tho’ nothing could divert his Melancholy;
+and he would often sigh for <i>Imoinda</i>, and think this a Punishment
+due to his Misfortune, in having left that
+<span class = "pagenum">166</span>
+noble Maid behind him, that fatal Night, in the <i>Otan</i>, when he
+fled to the Camp.</p>
+
+<p>Possess’d with a thousand Thoughts of past Joys with this fair young
+Person, and a thousand Griefs for her eternal Loss, he endur’d a tedious
+Voyage, and at last arriv’d at the Mouth of the River of <i>Surinam</i>,
+a&nbsp;Colony belonging to the King of <i>England</i>, and where they
+were to deliver some Part of their Slaves. There the Merchants and
+Gentlemen of the Country going on Board, to demand those Lots of Slaves
+they had already agreed on; and, amongst those, the Overseers of those
+Plantations where I then chanc’d to be: The Captain, who had given the
+Word, order’d his Men to bring up those noble Slaves in Fetters, whom I
+have spoken of; and having put ’em, some in one, and some in other Lots,
+with Women and Children, (which they call <i>Pickaninies</i>) they sold
+’em off, as Slaves to several Merchants and Gentlemen; not putting any
+two in one Lot, because they would separate ’em far from each other; nor
+daring to trust ’em together, lest Rage and Courage should put ’em upon
+contriving some great Action, to the Ruin of the Colony.</p>
+
+<p><i>Oroonoko</i> was first seiz’d on, and sold to our Overseer, who
+had the first Lot, with seventeen more of all Sorts and Sizes, but not
+one of Quality with him. When he saw this, he found what they meant;
+for, as I said, he understood <i>English</i> pretty well; and being
+wholly unarm’d and defenceless, so as it was in vain to make any
+Resistance, he only beheld the Captain with a Look all fierce and
+disdainful, upbraiding him with Eyes that forc’d Blushes on his guilty
+Cheeks, he only cry’d in passing over the Side of the Ship; <i>Farewel,
+Sir, ’tis worth my Sufferings to gain so true a Knowledge, both of you,
+and of your Gods, by whom you swear.</i> And desiring those that held
+him to forbear their Pains, and telling ’em he would make no Resistance,
+he cry’d, <i>Come, my Fellow-Slaves, let us descend, and see if we can
+meet with more Honour and Honesty in the next
+<span class = "pagenum">167</span>
+World we shall touch upon.</i> So he nimbly leapt into the Boat, and
+shewing no more Concern, suffer’d himself to be row’d up the River, with
+his seventeen Companions.</p>
+
+<p>The Gentleman that bought him, was a young <i>Cornish</i> Gentleman,
+whose Name was <i>Trefry</i>; a Man of great Wit, and fine Learning, and
+was carried into those Parts by the Lord <span class =
+"dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span> Governor, to manage all his Affairs. He
+reflecting on the last Words of <i>Oroonoko</i> to the Captain, and
+beholding the Richness of his Vest, no sooner came into the Boat, but he
+fix’d his Eyes on him; and finding something so extraordinary in his
+Face, his Shape and Mein, a&nbsp;Greatness of Look, and Haughtiness in
+his Air, and finding he spoke <i>English</i>, had a great Mind to be
+enquiring into his Quality and Fortune; which, though <i>Oroonoko</i>
+endeavour’d to hide, by only confessing he was above the Rank of common
+Slaves, <i>Trefry</i> soon found he was yet something greater than he
+confess’d; and from that Moment began to conceive so vast an Esteem for
+him, that he ever after lov’d him as his dearest Brother, and shew’d him
+all the Civilities due to so great a Man.</p>
+
+<p><i>Trefry</i> was a very good Mathematician, and a Linguist; could
+speak <i>French</i> and <i>Spanish</i>; and in the three Days they
+remain’d in the Boat, (for so long were they going from the Ship to the
+Plantation) he entertain’d <i>Oroonoko</i> so agreeably with his Art and
+Discourse, that he was no less pleas’d with <i>Trefry</i>, than he was
+with the Prince; and he thought himself, at least, fortunate in this,
+that since he was a Slave, as long as he would suffer himself to remain
+so, he had a Man of so excellent Wit and Parts for a Master. So that
+before they had finish’d their Voyage up the River, he made no Scruple
+of declaring to <i>Trefry</i> all his Fortunes, and most Part of what I
+have here related, and put himself wholly into the Hands of his new
+Friend, who he found resented all the Injuries were done him, and was
+charm’d with all the Greatnesses of his Actions; which were recited with
+that Modesty, and delicate Sense,
+<span class = "pagenum">168</span>
+as wholly vanquish’d him, and subdu’d him to his Interest. And he
+promis’d him, on his Word and Honour, he would find the Means to
+re-conduct him to his own Country again; assuring him, he had a perfect
+Abhorrence of so dishonourable an Action; and that he would sooner have
+dy’d, than have been the Author of such a Perfidy. He found the Prince
+was very much concerned to know what became of his Friends, and how they
+took their Slavery; and <i>Trefry</i> promised to take Care about the
+enquiring after their Condition, and that he should have an Account
+of&nbsp;’em.</p>
+
+<p>Tho’, as <i>Oroonoko</i> afterwards said, he had little Reason to
+credit the Words of a <i>Backearary</i>; yet he knew not why, but he saw
+a kind of Sincerity, and aweful Truth in the Face of <i>Trefry</i>; he
+saw Honesty in his Eyes, and he found him wise and witty enough to
+understand Honour: for it was one of his Maxims, <i>A&nbsp;Man of Wit
+could not be a Knave or Villain</i>.</p>
+
+<p>In their Passage up the River, they put in at several Houses for
+Refreshment; and ever when they landed, Numbers of People would flock to
+behold this Man: not but their Eyes were daily entertain’d with the
+Sight of Slaves; but the Fame of <i>Oroonoko</i> was gone before him,
+and all People were in Admiration of his Beauty. Besides, he had a rich
+Habit on, in which he was taken, so different from the rest, and which
+the Captain could not strip him of, because he was forc’d to surprize
+his Person in the Minute he sold him. When he found his Habit made him
+liable, as he thought, to be gazed at the more, he begged <i>Trefry</i>
+to give him something more befitting a Slave, which he did, and took off
+his Robes: Nevertheless, he shone thro’ all, and his <a class = "comm"
+name = "oroonoko_commtag2" id = "oroonoko_commtag2" href =
+"#oroonoko_comm2"><i>Osenbrigs</i></a> (a&nbsp;sort of brown
+<i>Holland</i> Suit he had&nbsp;on) could not conceal the Graces of his
+Looks and Mein; and he had no less Admirers than when he had his dazling
+Habit on: The Royal Youth appear’d in spite of the Slave, and People
+could not help treating him after a different Manner, without designing
+it. As soon as they
+<span class = "pagenum">169</span>
+approached him, they venerated and esteemed him; his Eyes insensibly
+commanded Respect, and his Behaviour insinuated it into every Soul. So
+that there was nothing talked of but this young and gallant Slave, even
+by those who yet knew not that he was a Prince.</p>
+
+<p>I ought to tell you, that the Christians never buy any Slaves but
+they give ’em some Name of their own, their native ones being likely
+very barbarous, and hard to pronounce; so that Mr. <i>Trefry</i> gave
+<i>Oroonoko</i> that of <i>Cæsar</i>; which name will live in that
+Country as long as that (scarce more) glorious one of the great
+<i>Roman</i>: for ’tis most evident he wanted no Part of the personal
+Courage of that <i>Cæsar</i>, and acted Things as memorable, had they
+been done in some Part of the World replenished with People and
+Historians, that might have given him his Due. But his Misfortune was,
+to fall in an obscure World, that afforded only a Female Pen to
+celebrate his Fame; tho’ I&nbsp;doubt not but it had lived from others
+Endeavours, if the <i>Dutch</i>, who immediately after his Time took
+that Country, had not killed, banished and dispersed all those that were
+capable of giving the World this great Man’s Life, much better than I
+have done. And Mr. <i>Trefry</i>, who design’d it, died before he began
+it, and bemoan’d himself for not having undertook it in Time.</p>
+
+<p>For the future therefore I must call <i>Oroonoko Cæsar</i>; since by
+that Name only he was known in our Western World, and by that Name he
+was received on Shore at <i>Parham-House</i>, where he was destin’d a
+Slave. But if the King himself (God bless him) had come ashore, there
+could not have been greater Expectation by all the whole Plantation, and
+those neighbouring ones, than was on ours at that Time; and he was
+received more like a Governor than a Slave: Notwithstanding, as the
+Custom was, they assigned him his Portion of Land, his House and his
+Business up in the Plantation. But as it was more for Form, than any
+Design to put him to his Task, he endured no
+<span class = "pagenum">170</span>
+more of the Slave but the Name, and remain’d some Days in the House,
+receiving all Visits that were made him, without stirring towards that
+Part of the Plantation where the <i>Negroes</i> were.</p>
+
+<p>At last, he would needs go view his Land, his House, and the Business
+assign’d him. But he no sooner came to the Houses of the Slaves, which
+are like a little Town by itself, the <i>Negroes</i> all having left
+Work, but they all came forth to behold him, and found he was that
+Prince who had, at several Times, sold most of ’em to these Parts; and
+from a Veneration they pay to great Men, especially if they know ’em,
+and from the Surprize and Awe they had at the Sight of him, they all
+cast themselves at his Feet, crying out, in their Language, <i>Live,
+O&nbsp;King! Long live, O&nbsp;King!</i> and kissing his Feet, paid him
+even Divine Homage.</p>
+
+<p>Several <i>English</i> Gentlemen were with him, and what Mr.
+<i>Trefry</i> had told ’em was here confirm’d; of which he himself
+before had no other Witness than <i>Cæsar</i> himself: But he was
+infinitely glad to find his Grandeur confirmed by the Adoration of all
+the Slaves.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cæsar</i>, troubled with their Over-Joy, and Over-Ceremony,
+besought ’em to rise, and to receive him as their Fellow-Slave; assuring
+them he was no better. At which they set up with one Accord a most
+terrible and hideous Mourning and Condoling, which he and the
+<i>English</i> had much ado to appease: but at last they prevailed with
+’em, and they prepared all their barbarous Musick, and every one kill’d
+and dress’d something of his own Stock (for every Family has their Land
+apart, on which, at their Leisure-times, they breed all eatable Things)
+and clubbing it together, made a most magnificent Supper, inviting their
+<i>Grandee Captain</i>, their <i>Prince</i>, to honour it with his
+Presence; which he did, and several <i>English</i> with him, where they
+all waited on him, some playing, others dancing before him all the Time,
+according to the Manners of
+<span class = "pagenum">171</span>
+their several Nations, and with unwearied Industry endeavouring to
+please and delight him.</p>
+
+<p>While they sat at Meat, Mr. <i>Trefry</i> told <i>Cæsar</i>, that
+most of these young Slaves were undone in Love with a fine She-Slave,
+whom they had had about six Months on their Land; the Prince, who never
+heard the Name of <i>Love</i> without a Sigh, nor any Mention of it
+without the Curiosity of examining further into that Tale, which of all
+Discourses was most agreeable to him, asked, how they came to be so
+unhappy, as to be all undone for one fair Slave? <i>Trefry</i>, who was
+naturally amorous, and delighted to talk of Love as well as any Body,
+proceeded to tell him, they had the most charming Black that ever was
+beheld on their Plantation, about fifteen or sixteen Years old, as he
+guess’d; that for his Part he had done nothing but sigh for her ever
+since she came; and that all the White Beauties he had seen, never
+charm’d him so absolutely as this fine Creature had done; and that no
+Man, of any Nation, ever beheld her, that did not fall in love with her;
+and that she had all the Slaves perpetually at her Feet; and the whole
+Country resounded with the Fame of <i>Clemene</i>, for so (said&nbsp;he)
+we have christen’d her: but she denies us all with such a noble Disdain,
+that ’tis a Miracle to see, that she who can give such eternal Desires,
+should herself be all Ice and all Unconcern. She is adorn’d with the
+most graceful Modesty that ever beautify’d Youth; the softest
+Sigher&mdash;that, if she were capable of Love, one would swear she
+languished for some absent happy Man; and so retired, as if she fear’d a
+Rape even from the God of Day, or that the Breezes would steal Kisses
+from her delicate Mouth. Her Task of Work, some sighing Lover every Day
+makes it his Petition to perform for her; which she accepts blushing,
+and with Reluctancy, for Fear he will ask her a Look for a Recompence,
+which he dares not presume to hope; so great an Awe she strikes into the
+Hearts of her Admirers. ‘I&nbsp;do not wonder (<i>reply’d the
+<span class = "pagenum">172</span>
+Prince</i>) that <i>Clemene</i> should refuse Slaves, being, as you say,
+so beautiful; but wonder how she escapes those that can entertain her as
+you can do: or why, being your Slave, you do not oblige her to yield?’
+‘I&nbsp;confess (<i>said <em>Trefry</em></i>) when I have, against her
+Will, entertained her with Love so long, as to be transported with my
+Passion even above Decency, I&nbsp;have been ready to make Use of those
+Advantages of Strength and Force Nature has given me: But Oh! she
+disarms me with that Modesty and Weeping, so tender and so moving, that
+I retire, and thank my Stars she overcame me.’ The Company laugh’d at
+his Civility to a Slave, and <i>Cæsar</i> only applauded the Nobleness
+of his Passion and Nature, since that Slave might be noble, or, what was
+better, have true Notions of Honour and Virtue in her. Thus passed they
+this Night, after having received from the Slaves all imaginable Respect
+and Obedience.</p>
+
+<p>The next Day, <i>Trefry</i> ask’d <i>Cæsar</i> to walk when the Heat
+was allay’d, and designedly carried him by the Cottage of the fair
+Slave; and told him she whom he spoke of last Night lived there retir’d:
+<i>But</i> (says&nbsp;he) <i>I&nbsp;would not wish you to approach; for
+I am sure you will be in Love as soon as you behold her.</i>
+<i>Cæsar</i> assured him, he was Proof against all the Charms of that
+Sex; and that if he imagined his Heart could be so perfidious to love
+again after <i>Imoinda</i>, he believed he should tear it from his
+Bosom. They had no sooner spoke, but a little Shock-Dog, that
+<i>Clemene</i> had presented her, which she took great Delight in, ran
+out; and she, not knowing any Body was there, ran to get it in again,
+and bolted out on those who were just speaking of her: when seeing them,
+she would have run in again, but <i>Trefry</i> caught her by the Hand,
+and cry’d, Clemene, <i>however you fly a Lover, you ought to pay some
+Respect to this Stranger</i>, (pointing to <i>Cæsar</i>.) But she, as if
+she had resolved never to raise her Eyes to the Face of a Man again,
+bent ’em the more to the Earth, when he spoke, and gave the Prince the
+Leisure to look the more at her.
+<span class = "pagenum">173</span>
+There needed no long gazing, or Consideration, to examine who this fair
+Creature was; he soon saw <i>Imoinda</i> all over her: in a Minute he
+saw her Face, her Shape, her Air, her Modesty, and all that call’d forth
+his Soul with Joy at his Eyes, and left his Body destitute of almost
+Life: it stood without Motion, and for a Minute knew not that it had a
+Being; and, I&nbsp;believe, he had never come to himself, so oppress’d
+he was with Over-joy, if he had not met with this Allay, that he
+perceived <i>Imoinda</i> fall dead in the Hands of <i>Trefry</i>. This
+awaken’d him, and he ran to her Aid, and caught her in his Arms, where
+by Degrees she came to her self; and ’tis needless to tell with what
+Transports, what Extasies of Joy, they both a While beheld each other,
+without speaking; then snatched each other to their Arms; then gaze
+again, as if they still doubted whether they possess’d the Blessing they
+grasped: but when they recover’d their Speech, ’tis not to be imagined
+what tender Things they express’d to each other; wondring what strange
+Fate had brought them again together. They soon inform’d each other of
+their Fortunes, and equally bewail’d their Fate; but at the same Time
+they mutually protested, that even Fetters and Slavery were soft and
+easy, and would be supported with Joy and Pleasure, while they could be
+so happy to possess each other, and to be able to make good their Vows.
+<i>Cæsar</i> swore he disdained the Empire of the World, while he could
+behold his <i>Imoinda</i>; and she despised Grandeur and Pomp, those
+Vanities of her Sex, when she could gaze on <i>Oroonoko</i>. He ador’d
+the very Cottage where she resided, and said, That little Inch of the
+World would give him more Happiness than all the Universe could do; and
+she vow’d it was a Palace, while adorned with the Presence of
+<i>Oroonoko</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Trefry</i> was infinitely pleased with this Novel, and found this
+<i>Clemene</i> was the fair Mistress of whom <i>Cæsar</i> had before
+spoke; and was not a little satisfy’d, that Heaven
+<span class = "pagenum">174</span>
+was so kind to the Prince as to sweeten his Misfortunes by so lucky an
+Accident; and leaving the Lovers to themselves, was impatient to come
+down to <i>Parham-House</i> (which was on the same Plantation) to give
+me an Account of what had happened. I&nbsp;was as impatient to make
+these Lovers a Visit, having already made a Friendship with
+<i>Cæsar</i>, and from his own Mouth learned what I have related; which
+was confirmed by his <i>Frenchman</i>, who was set on shore to seek his
+Fortune, and of whom they could not make a Slave, because a Christian;
+and he came daily to <i>Parham-Hill</i> to see and pay his Respects to
+his Pupil Prince. So that concerning and interesting myself in all that
+related to <i>Cæsar</i>, whom I had assured of Liberty <a class = "comm"
+name = "oroonoko_commtag3" id = "oroonoko_commtag3" href =
+"#oroonoko_comm3">as soon as the Governour arrived</a>, I&nbsp;hasted
+presently to the Place where these Lovers were, and was infinitely glad
+to find this beautiful young Slave (who had already gain’d all our
+Esteems, for her Modesty and extraordinary Prettiness) to be the same I
+had heard <i>Cæsar</i> speak so much of. One may imagine then we paid
+her a treble Respect; and tho’ from her being carved in fine Flowers and
+Birds all over her Body, we took her to be of Quality before, yet when
+we knew <i>Clemene</i> was <i>Imoinda</i>, we could not enough admire
+her.</p>
+
+<p>I had forgot to tell you, that those who are nobly born of that
+Country, are so delicately cut and raised all over the Fore-part of the
+Trunk of their Bodies, that it looks as if it were japan’d, the Works
+being raised like high Point round the Edges of the Flowers. Some are
+only carved with a little Flower, or Bird, at the Sides of the Temples,
+as was <i>Cæsar</i>; and those who are so carved over the Body, resemble
+our antient <i>Picts</i> that are figur’d in the Chronicles, but these
+Carvings are more delicate.</p>
+
+<p>From that happy Day <i>Cæsar</i> took <i>Clemene</i> for his Wife, to
+the general Joy of all People; and there was as much Magnificence as the
+Country could afford at the Celebration of this Wedding: And in a very
+short Time after she
+<span class = "pagenum">175</span>
+conceived with Child, which made <i>Cæsar</i> even adore her, knowing he
+was the last of his great Race. This new Accident made him more
+impatient of Liberty, and he was every Day treating with <i>Trefrey</i>
+for his and <i>Clemene’s</i> Liberty, and offer’d either Gold, or a vast
+Quantity of Slaves, which should be paid before they let him go,
+provided he could have any Security that he should go when his Ransom
+was paid. They fed him from Day to Day with Promises, and delay’d him
+till the Lord-Governor should come; so that he began to suspect them of
+Falshood, and that they would delay him till the Time of his Wife’s
+Delivery, and make a Slave of the Child too; for all the Breed is theirs
+to whom the Parents belong. This Thought made him very uneasy, and his
+Sullenness gave them some Jealousies of him; so that I was obliged, by
+some Persons who fear’d a Mutiny (which is very fatal sometimes in those
+Colonies that abound so with Slaves, that they exceed the Whites in vast
+Numbers) to discourse with <i>Cæsar</i>, and to give him all the
+Satisfaction I possibly could: They knew he and <i>Clemene</i> were
+scarce an Hour in a Day from my Lodgings; that they eat with me, and
+that I oblig’d them in all Things I was capable. I&nbsp;entertained them
+with the Lives of the <i>Romans</i>, and great Men, which charmed him to
+my Company; and her, with teaching her all the pretty Works that I was
+Mistress of, and telling her Stories of Nuns, and endeavouring to bring
+her to the Knowledge of the true God: But of all Discourses,
+<i>Cæsar</i> liked that the worst, and would never be reconciled to our
+Notions of the Trinity, of which he ever made a Jest; it was a Riddle he
+said would turn his Brain to conceive, and one could not make him
+understand what Faith was. However, these Conversations fail’d not
+altogether so well to divert him, that he liked the Company of us Women
+much above the Men, for he could not drink, and he is but an ill
+Companion in that Country that cannot. So that obliging him to love us
+very well, we had all the Liberty of Speech with him,
+<span class = "pagenum">176</span>
+especially my self, whom he call’d his <i>Great Mistress</i>; and indeed
+my Word would go a great Way with him. For these Reasons I had
+Opportunity to take Notice to him, that he was not well pleased of late,
+as he used to be; was more retired and thoughtful; and told him,
+I&nbsp;took it ill he should suspect we would break our Words with him,
+and not permit both him and <i>Clemene</i> to return to his own Kingdom,
+which was not so long a Way, but when he was once on his Voyage he would
+quickly arrive there. He made me some Answers that shew’d a Doubt in
+him, which made me ask, what Advantage it would be to doubt? It would
+but give us a Fear of him, and possibly compel us to treat him so as I
+should be very loth to behold; that is, it might occasion his
+Confinement. Perhaps this was not so luckily spoke of me, for I
+perceiv’d he resented that Word, which I strove to soften again in vain:
+However, he assur’d me, that whatsoever Resolutions he should take, he
+would act nothing upon the <i>White</i> People; and as for myself, and
+those upon that <i>Plantation</i> where he was, he would sooner forfeit
+his eternal Liberty, and Life itself, than lift his Hand against his
+greatest Enemy on that Place. He besought me to suffer no Fears upon his
+Account, for he could do nothing that Honour should not dictate; but he
+accused himself for having suffer’d Slavery so long; yet he charg’d that
+Weakness on Love alone, who was capable of making him neglect even Glory
+itself; and, for which, now he reproaches himself every Moment of the
+Day. Much more to this Effect he spoke, with an Air impatient enough to
+make me know he would not be long in Bondage; and tho’ he suffer’d only
+the Name of a Slave, and had nothing of the Toil and Labour of one, yet
+that was sufficient to render him uneasy; and he had been too long idle,
+who us’d to be always in Action, and in Arms. He had a Spirit all rough
+and fierce, and that could not be tam’d to lazy Rest: And tho’ all
+Endeavours were us’d to exercise himself in such Actions and Sports as
+this
+<span class = "pagenum">177</span>
+World afforded, as Running, Wrestling, Pitching the Bar, Hunting and
+Fishing, Chasing and Killing <i>Tygers</i> of a monstrous Size, which
+this Continent affords in abundance; and wonderful <i>Snakes</i>, such
+as <i>Alexander</i> is reported to have encounter’d at the River of
+<i>Amazons</i>, and which <i>Cæsar</i> took great Delight to overcome;
+yet these were not Actions great enough for his large Soul, which was
+still panting after more renown’d Actions.</p>
+
+<p>Before I parted that Day with him, I got, with much ado,
+a&nbsp;Promise from him to rest yet a little longer with Patience, and
+wait the Coming of the Lord Governour, who was every Day expected on our
+Shore: He assur’d me he would, and this Promise he desired me to know
+was given perfectly in Complaisance to me, in whom he had an entire
+Confidence.</p>
+
+<p>After this, I neither thought it convenient to trust him much out of
+our View, nor did the Country, who fear’d him; but with one Accord it
+was advis’d to treat him fairly, and oblige him to remain within such a
+Compass, and that he should be permitted, as seldom as could be, to go
+up to the Plantations of the <i>Negroes</i>; or, if he did, to be
+accompany’d by some that should be rather, in Appearance, Attendants
+than Spies. This Care was for some time taken, and <i>Cæsar</i> look’d
+upon it as a Mark of extraordinary Respect, and was glad his Discontent
+had oblig’d ’em to be more observant to him; he received new Assurance
+from the Overseer, which was confirmed to him by the Opinion of all the
+Gentlemen of the Country, who made their Court to him. During this Time
+that we had his Company more frequently than hitherto we had had, it may
+not be unpleasant to relate to you the Diversions we entertain’d him
+with, or rather he&nbsp;us.</p>
+
+<p>My Stay was to be short in that Country; because <a class = "comm"
+name = "oroonoko_commtag4" id = "oroonoko_commtag4" href =
+"#oroonoko_comm4">my Father dy’d at Sea, and never arriv’d to possess
+the Honour design’d him</a>, (which was Lieutenant-General of six and
+thirty Islands, besides the Continent of <i>Surinam</i>) nor the
+<span class = "pagenum">178</span>
+Advantages he hop’d to reap by them: So that though we were oblig’d to
+continue on our Voyage, we did not intend to stay upon the Place.
+Though, in a Word, I&nbsp;must say thus much of it; That certainly had
+his late Majesty, of sacred Memory, but seen and known what a vast and
+charming World he had been Master of in that Continent, he would never
+have parted so easily with it to the <i>Dutch</i>. ’Tis a Continent,
+whose vast Extent was never yet known, and may contain more noble Earth
+than all the Universe beside; for, they say, it reaches from East to
+West one Way as far as <i>China</i>, and another to <i>Peru</i>: It
+affords all Things, both for Beauty and Use; ’tis there eternal Spring,
+always the very Months of <i>April</i>, <i>May</i>, and <i>June</i>; the
+Shades are perpetual, the Trees bearing at once all Degrees of Leaves,
+and Fruit, from blooming Buds to ripe Autumn: Groves of Oranges, Lemons,
+Citrons, Figs, Nutmegs, and noble Aromaticks, continually bearing their
+Fragrancies: The Trees appearing all like Nosegays, adorn’d with Flowers
+of different Kinds; some are all White, some Purple, some Scarlet, some
+Blue, some Yellow; bearing at the same Time ripe Fruit, and blooming
+young, or producing every Day new. The very Wood of all these Trees has
+an intrinsic Value, above common Timber; for they are, when cut, of
+different Colours, glorious to behold, and bear a Price considerable, to
+inlay withal. Besides this, they yield rich Balm, and Gums; so that we
+make our Candles of such an aromatic Substance, as does not only give a
+sufficient Light, but as they burn, they cast their Perfumes all about.
+Cedar is the common Firing, and all the Houses are built with it. The
+very Meat we eat, when set on the Table, if it be native, I&nbsp;mean of
+the Country, perfumes the whole Room; especially a little Beast call’d
+an <i>Armadillo</i>, a&nbsp;Thing which I can liken to nothing so well
+as a <i>Rhinoceros</i>; ’tis all in white Armour, so jointed, that it
+moves as well in it, as if it had nothing on: This Beast is about the
+Bigness of a Pig of six Weeks
+<span class = "pagenum">179</span>
+old. But it were endless to give an Account of all the divers wonderful
+and strange Things that Country affords, and which we took a great
+Delight to go in Search of; tho’ those Adventures are oftentimes fatal,
+and at least dangerous: But while we had <i>Cæsar</i> in our Company on
+these Designs, we fear’d no Harm, nor suffer’d any.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as I came into the Country, the best House in it was
+presented me, call’d <i>St. John’s Hill</i>: It stood on a vast Rock of
+white Marble, at the Foot of which, the River ran a vast Depth down, and
+not to be descended on that Side; the little Waves still dashing and
+washing the Foot of this Rock, made the softest Murmurs and Purlings in
+the World; and the opposite Bank was adorn’d with such vast Quantities
+of different Flowers eternally blowing, and every Day and Hour new,
+fenc’d behind ’em with lofty Trees of a thousand rare Forms and Colours,
+that the Prospect was the most ravishing that Sands can create. On the
+Edge of this white Rock, towards the River, was a Walk, or Grove, of
+Orange and Lemon-Trees, about half the Length of the <i>Mall</i> here,
+whose flowery and Fruit-bearing Branches met at the Top, and hinder’d
+the Sun, whose Rays are very fierce there, from entring a Beam into the
+Grove; and the cool Air that came from the River, made it not only fit
+to entertain People in, at all the hottest Hours of the Day, but refresh
+the sweet Blossoms, and made it always sweet and charming; and sure, the
+whole Globe of the World cannot shew so delightful a Place as this Grove
+was: Not all the Gardens of boasted <i>Italy</i> can produce a Shade to
+out-vie this, which Nature had join’d with Art to render so exceeding
+fine; and ’tis a Marvel to see how such vast Trees, as big as
+<i>English</i> Oaks, could take Footing on so solid a Rock, and in so
+little Earth as cover’d that Rock: But all Things by Nature there are
+rare, delightful, and wonderful. But to our Sports.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes we would go surprising, and in Search of young
+<i>Tygers</i> in their Dens, watching when the old ones
+<span class = "pagenum">180</span>
+went forth to forage for Prey; and oftentimes we have been in great
+Danger, and have fled apace for our Lives, when surpriz’d by the Dams.
+But once, above all other Times, we went on this Design, and
+<i>Cæsar</i> was with us; who had no sooner stoln a young <i>Tyger</i>
+from her Nest, but going off, we encounter’d the Dam, bearing a Buttock
+of a Cow, which she had torn off with her mighty Paw, and going with it
+towards her Den: We had only four Women, <i>Cæsar</i>, and an
+<i>English</i> Gentleman, <a class = "comm" name = "oroonoko_commtag5"
+id = "oroonoko_commtag5" href = "#oroonoko_comm5">Brother to <i>Harry
+Martin</i> the great <i>Oliverian</i></a>; we found there was no
+escaping this enraged and ravenous Beast. However, we Women fled as fast
+as we could from it; but our Heels had not saved our Lives, if
+<i>Cæsar</i> had not laid down her <i>Cub</i>, when he found the
+<i>Tyger</i> quit her Prey to make the more Speed towards him; and
+taking Mr. <i>Martin’s</i> Sword, desired him to stand aside, or follow
+the Ladies. He obey’d him; and <i>Cæsar</i> met this monstrous Beast of
+mighty Size, and vast Limbs, who came with open Jaws upon him; and
+fixing his aweful stern Eyes full upon those of the Beast, and putting
+himself into a very steady and good aiming Posture of Defence, ran his
+Sword quite through his Breast, down to his very Heart, home to the Hilt
+of the Sword: The dying Beast stretch’d forth her Paw, and going to
+grasp his Thigh, surpriz’d with Death in that very Moment, did him no
+other Harm than fixing her long Nails in his Flesh very deep, feebly
+wounded him, but could not grasp the Flesh to tear off any. When he had
+done this, he hallow’d to us to return; which, after some Assurance of
+his Victory, we did, and found him lugging out the Sword from the Bosom
+of the <i>Tyger</i>, who was laid in her Blood on the Ground. He took up
+the <i>Cub</i>, and with an Unconcern that had nothing of the Joy or
+Gladness of Victory, he came and laid the Whelp at my Feet. We all
+extremely wonder’d at his daring, and at the Bigness of the Beast, which
+was about the Height of an Heifer, but of mighty great and strong
+Limbs.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">181</span>
+<p>Another time, being in the Woods, he kill’d a <i>Tyger</i>, that had
+long infested that Part, and borne away abundance of Sheep and Oxen, and
+other Things, that were for the Support of those to whom they belong’d.
+Abundance of People assail’d this Beast, some affirming they had shot
+her with several Bullets quite through the Body at several times; and
+some swearing they shot her through the very Heart; and they believed
+she was a Devil, rather than a mortal Thing. <i>Cæsar</i> had often
+said, he had a Mind to encounter this Monster, and spoke with several
+Gentlemen who had attempted her; one crying, I&nbsp;shot her with so
+many poison’d Arrows, another with his Gun in this Part of her, and
+another in that; so that he remarking all the Places where she was shot,
+fancy’d still he should overcome her, by giving her another Sort of a
+Wound than any had yet done; and one Day said (at&nbsp;the Table), ‘What
+Trophies and Garlands, Ladies, will you make me, if I bring you home the
+Heart of this ravenous Beast, that eats up all your Lambs and Pigs?’ We
+all promis’d he should be rewarded at our Hands. So taking a Bow, which
+he chose out of a great many, he went up into the Wood, with two
+Gentlemen, where he imagin’d this Devourer to be. They had not pass’d
+very far into it, but they heard her Voice, growling and grumbling, as
+if she were pleas’d with something she was doing. When they came in
+View, they found her muzzling in the Belly of a new ravish’d Sheep,
+which she had torn open; and seeing herself approach’d, she took fast
+hold of her Prey with her fore Paws, and set a very fierce raging Look
+on <i>Cæsar</i>, without offering to approach him, for Fear at the same
+Time of loosing what she had in Possession: So that <i>Cæsar</i>
+remain’d a good while, only taking Aim, and getting an Opportunity to
+shoot her where he design’d. ’Twas some Time before he could accomplish
+it; and to wound her, and not kill her, would but have enrag’d her the
+more, and endanger’d him. He had a Quiver of Arrows at his
+<span class = "pagenum">182</span>
+Side, so that if one fail’d, he could be supply’d: At last, retiring a
+little, he gave her Opportunity to eat, for he found she was ravenous,
+and fell to as soon as she saw him retire, being more eager of her Prey,
+than of doing new Mischiefs; when he going softly to one Side of her,
+and hiding his Person behind certain Herbage, that grew high and thick,
+he took so good Aim, that, as he intended, he shot her just into the
+Eye, and the Arrow was sent with so good a Will, and so sure a Hand,
+that it stuck in her Brain, and made her caper, and become mad for a
+Moment or two; but being seconded by another Arrow, she fell dead upon
+the Prey. <i>Cæsar</i> cut her open with a Knife, to see where those
+Wounds were that had been reported to him, and why she did not die of
+’em. But I shall now relate a Thing that, possibly, will find no Credit
+among Men; because ’tis a Notion commonly receiv’d with us, That nothing
+can receive a Wound in the Heart, and live: But when the Heart of this
+courageous Animal was taken out, there were seven Bullets of Lead in it,
+the Wound seam’d up with great Scars, and she liv’d with the Bullets a
+great While, for it was long since they were shot: This Heart the
+Conqueror brought up to us, and ’twas a very great Curiosity, which all
+the Country came to see; and which gave <i>Cæsar</i> Occasion of many
+fine Discourses of Accidents in War, and strange Escapes.</p>
+
+<p>At other times he would go a Fishing; and discoursing on that
+Diversion, he found we had in that Country a very strange Fish, call’d a
+<i>Numb-Eel</i>, (an&nbsp;<i>Eel</i> of which I have eaten) that while
+it is alive, it has a Quality so cold, that those who are angling, tho’
+with a Line of ever so great a Length, with a Rod at the End of it, it
+shall in the same Minute the Bait is touch’d by this <i>Eel</i>, seize
+him or her that holds the Rod with a Numbness, that shall deprive ’em of
+Sense for a While; and some have fallen into the Water, and others
+drop’d, as dead, on the Banks of the Rivers where they stood, as soon as
+this Fish touches
+<span class = "pagenum">183</span>
+the Bait. <i>Cæsar</i> us’d to laugh at this, and believ’d it impossible
+a Man could lose his Force at the Touch of a Fish; and could not
+understand that Philosophy, that a cold Quality should be of that
+Nature; however, he had a great Curiosity to try whether it would have
+the same Effect on him it had on others, and often try’d, but in vain.
+At last, the sought-for Fish came to the Bait, as he stood angling on
+the Bank; and instead of throwing away the Rod, or giving it a sudden
+Twitch out of the Water, whereby he might have caught both the
+<i>Eel</i>, and have dismiss’d the Rod, before it could have too much
+Power over him; for Experiment-sake, he grasp’d it but the harder, and
+fainting, fell into the River; and being still possess’d of the Rod, the
+Tide carry’d him, senseless as he was, a&nbsp;great Way, till an
+<i>Indian</i> Boat took him up; and perceiv’d, when they touch’d him,
+a&nbsp;Numbness seize them, and by that knew the Rod was in his Hand;
+which with a Paddle, (that is a short Oar) they struck away, and
+snatch’d it into the Boat, <i>Eel</i> and all. If <i>Cæsar</i> was
+almost dead, with the Effect of this Fish, he was more so with that of
+the Water, where he had remain’d the Space of going a League, and they
+found they had much ado to bring him back to Life; but at last they did,
+and brought him home, where he was in a few Hours well recover’d and
+refresh’d, and not a little asham’d to find he should be overcome by an
+<i>Eel</i>, and that all the People, who heard his Defiance, would laugh
+at him. But we chear’d him up; and he being convinc’d, we had the
+<i>Eel</i> at Supper, which was a quarter of an Ell about, and most
+delicate Meat; and was of the more Value, since it cost so dear as
+almost the Life of so gallant a Man.</p>
+
+<p>About this Time we were in many mortal Fears, about some Disputes the
+<i>English</i> had with the <i>Indians</i>; so that we could scarce
+trust our selves, without great Numbers, to go to any <i>Indian</i>
+Towns, or Place where they abode, for fear they should fall upon us, as
+they did immediately
+<span class = "pagenum">184</span>
+after my coming away; and the Place being in the Possession of the
+<i>Dutch</i>, they us’d them not so civilly as the <i>English</i>; so
+that they cut in Pieces all they could take, getting into Houses and
+hanging up the Mother, and all her Children about her; and cut a
+Footman, I&nbsp;left behind me, all in Joints, and nail’d him to
+Trees.</p>
+
+<p>This Feud began while I was there; so that I lost half the
+Satisfaction I propos’d, in not seeing and visiting the <i>Indian</i>
+Towns. But one Day, bemoaning of our Misfortunes upon this Account,
+<i>Cæsar</i> told us, we need not fear, for if we had a Mind to go, he
+would undertake to be our Guard. Some would, but most would not venture:
+About eighteen of us resolv’d, and took Barge; and after eight Days,
+arriv’d near an <i>Indian</i> Town: But approaching it, the Hearts of
+some of our Company fail’d, and they would not venture on Shore; so we
+poll’d, who would, and who would not. For my Part, I&nbsp;said, if
+<i>Cæsar</i> would, I&nbsp;would go. He resolv’d; so did my Brother, and
+my Woman, a&nbsp;Maid of good Courage. Now none of us speaking the
+Language of the People, and imagining we should have a half Diversion in
+gazing only; and not knowing what they said, we took a Fisherman that
+liv’d at the Mouth of the River, who had been a long Inhabitant there,
+and oblig’d him to go with us: But because he was known to the
+<i>Indians</i>, as trading among ’em, and being, by long living there,
+become a perfect <i>Indian</i> in Colour, we, who had a Mind to surprize
+’em, by making them see something they never had seen, (that is,
+<i>White</i> People) resolv’d only my self, my Brother and Woman should
+go: So <i>Cæsar</i>, the Fisherman, and the rest, hiding behind some
+thick Reeds and Flowers that grew in the Banks, let us pass on towards
+the Town, which was on the Bank of the River all along. A&nbsp;little
+distant from the Houses, or Huts, we saw some dancing, others busy’d in
+fetching and carrying of Water from the River. They had no sooner spy’d
+us, but they set up a loud Cry, that frighted us at
+<span class = "pagenum">185</span>
+first; we thought it had been for those that should kill us, but it
+seems it was of Wonder and Amazement. They were all naked; and we were
+dress’d, so as is most commode for the hot Countries, very glittering
+and rich; so that we appear’d extremely fine; my own Hair was cut short,
+and I had a Taffety Cap, with black Feathers on my Head; my Brother was
+in a Stuff-Suit, with Silver Loops and Buttons, and abundance of green
+Ribbon. This was all infinitely surprising to them; and because we saw
+them stand still till we approach’d ’em, we took Heart and advanc’d,
+came up to ’em, and offer’d ’em our Hands; which they took, and look’d
+on us round about, calling still for more Company; who came swarming
+out, all wondering, and crying out <i>Tepeeme</i>; taking their Hair up
+in their Hands, and spreading it wide to those they call’d out to; as if
+they would say (as&nbsp;indeed it signify’d) <i>Numberless Wonders</i>,
+or not to be recounted, no more than to number the Hair of their Heads.
+By Degrees they grew more bold, and from gazing upon us round, they
+touch’d us, laying their Hands upon all the Features of our Faces,
+feeling our Breasts, and Arms, taking up one Petticoat, then wondering
+to see another; admiring our Shoes and Stockings, but more our Garters,
+which we gave ’em, and they ty’d about their Legs, being lac’d with
+Silver Lace at the Ends; for they much esteem any shining Things. In
+fine, we suffer’d ’em to survey us as they pleas’d, and we thought they
+would never have done admiring us. When <i>Cæsar</i>, and the rest, saw
+we were receiv’d with such Wonder, they came up to us; and finding the
+<i>Indian</i> Trader whom they knew, (for ’tis by these Fishermen,
+call’d <i>Indian</i> Traders, we hold a Commerce with ’em; for they love
+not to go far from home, and we never go to them) when they saw him
+therefore, they set up a new Joy, and cry’d in their Language, <i>Oh,
+here’s our <em>Tiguamy</em>, and we shall know whether those Things can
+speak.</i> So advancing to him, some
+<span class = "pagenum">186</span>
+of ’em gave him their Hands, and cry’d, <i>Amora Tiguamy</i>; which is
+as much as, <i>How do you do?</i> or, <i>Welcome Friend</i>; and all,
+with one din, began to gabble to him, and ask’d, if we had Sense and
+Wit? If we could talk of Affairs of Life and War, as they could do? If
+we could hunt, swim, and do a thousand Things they use? He answer’d ’em,
+We could. Then they invited us into their Houses, and dress’d Venison
+and Buffalo for us; and going out, gather’d a Leaf of a Tree, called a
+<i>Sarumbo</i> Leaf, of six Yards long, and spread it on the Ground for
+a Table-Cloth; and cutting another in Pieces, instead of Plates, set us
+on little low <i>Indian</i> Stools, which they cut out of one entire
+Piece of Wood, and paint in a sort of Japan-Work. They serve every one
+their Mess on these Pieces of Leaves; and it was very good, but too
+high-season’d with Pepper. When we had eat, my Brother and I took out
+our Flutes, and play’d to ’em, which gave ’em new Wonder; and I soon
+perceiv’d, by an Admiration that is natural to these People, and by the
+extreme Ignorance and Simplicity of ’em, it were not difficult to
+establish any unknown or extravagant Religion among them, and to impose
+any Notions or Fictions upon ’em. For seeing a Kinsman of mine set some
+Paper on Fire with a Burning-Glass, a&nbsp;Trick they had never before
+seen, they were like to have ador’d him for a God, and begg’d he would
+give ’em the Characters or Figures of his Name, that they might oppose
+it against Winds and Storms: which he did, and they held it up in those
+Seasons, and fancy’d it had a Charm to conquer them, and kept it like a
+holy Relique. They are very superstitious, and call’d him the Great
+<i>Peeie</i>, that is, <i>Prophet</i>. They shewed us their <i>Indian
+Peeie</i>, a&nbsp;Youth of about sixteen Years old, as handsome as
+Nature could make a Man. They consecrate a beautiful Youth from his
+Infancy, and all Arts are used to compleat him in the finest Manner,
+both in Beauty and Shape: He is bred to all the little Arts and Cunning
+they are capable
+<span class = "pagenum">187</span>
+of; to all the legerdemain Tricks, and Slight of Hand, whereby he
+imposes on the Rabble; and is both a Doctor in Physick and Divinity: And
+by these Tricks makes the Sick believe he sometimes eases their Pains,
+by drawing from the afflicted Part little Serpents, or odd Flies, or
+Worms, or any strange Thing; and though they have besides undoubted good
+Remedies for almost all their Diseases, they cure the Patient more by
+Fancy than by Medicines, and make themselves feared, loved, and
+reverenced. This young <i>Peeie</i> had a very young Wife, who seeing my
+Brother kiss her, came running and kiss’d me. After this they kiss’d one
+another, and made it a very great Jest, it being so novel; and new
+Admiration and Laughing went round the Multitude, that they never will
+forget that Ceremony, never before us’d or known. <i>Cæsar</i> had a
+Mind to see and talk with their War-Captains, and we were conducted to
+one of their Houses, where we beheld several of the great Captains, who
+had been at Council: But so frightful a Vision it was to see ’em, no
+Fancy can create; no sad Dreams can represent so dreadful a Spectacle.
+For my Part, I&nbsp;took ’em for Hobgoblins, or Fiends, rather than Men;
+But however their Shapes appear’d, their Souls were very humane and
+noble; but some wanted their Noses, some their Lips, some both Noses and
+Lips, some their Ears, and others cut through each Cheek, with long
+Slashes, through which their Teeth appear’d: They had several other
+formidable Wounds and Scars, or rather Dismembrings. They had
+<i>Comitias</i>, or little Aprons before them; and Girdles of Cotton,
+with their Knives naked stuck in it; a&nbsp;Bow at their Back, and a
+Quiver of Arrows on their Thighs; and most had Feathers on their Heads
+of divers Colours. They cry’d <i>Amora Tiguamy</i> to us, at our
+Entrance, and were pleas’d we said as much to them: They seated us, and
+gave us Drink of the best Sort, and wonder’d as much as the others had
+done before to see us. <i>Cæsar</i> was marvelling
+<span class = "pagenum">188</span>
+as much at their Faces, wondring how they should be all so wounded in
+War; he was impatient to know how they all came by those frightful Marks
+of Rage or Malice, rather than Wounds got in noble Battle: They told us
+by our Interpreter, That when any War was waging, two Men, chosen out by
+some old Captain whose fighting was past, and who could only teach the
+Theory of War, were to stand in Competition for the Generalship, or
+great War-Captain; and being brought before the old Judges, now past
+Labour, they are ask’d, What they dare do, to shew they are worthy to
+lead an Army? When he who is first ask’d, making no Reply, cuts off his
+Nose, and throws it contemptibly on the Ground; and the other does
+something to himself that he thinks surpasses him, and perhaps deprives
+himself of Lips and an Eye: So they slash on ’till one gives out, and
+many have dy’d in this Debate. And it’s by a passive Valour they shew
+and prove their Activity; a&nbsp;sort of Courage too brutal to be
+applauded by our <i>Black</i> Hero; nevertheless, he express’d his
+Esteem of&nbsp;’em.</p>
+
+<p>In this Voyage <i>Cæsar</i> begat so good an Understanding between
+the <i>Indians</i> and the <i>English</i>, that there were no more Fears
+or Heart-burnings during our Stay, but we had a perfect, open, and free
+Trade with ’em. Many Things remarkable, and worthy reciting, we met with
+in this short Voyage; because <i>Cæsar</i> made it his Business to
+search out and provide for our Entertainment, especially to please his
+dearly ador’d <i>Imoinda</i>, who was a Sharer in all our Adventures; we
+being resolv’d to make her Chains as easy as we could, and to compliment
+the Prince in that Manner that most oblig’d him.</p>
+
+<p>As we were coming up again, we met with some <i>Indians</i> of
+strange Aspects; that is, of a larger Size, and other sort of Features,
+than those of our Country. Our <i>Indian Slaves</i>, that row’d us,
+ask’d ’em some Questions; but they could not understand us, but shew’d
+us a long
+<span class = "pagenum">189</span>
+Cotton String, with several Knots on it, and told us, they had been
+coming from the Mountains so many Moons as there were Knots: they were
+habited in Skins of a strange Beast, and brought along with ’em Bags of
+Gold-Dust; which, as well as they could give as to understand, came
+streaming in little small Channels down the high Mountains, when the
+Rains fell; and offer’d to be the Convoy to any Body, or Persons, that
+would go to the Mountains. We carry’d these Men up to <i>Parham</i>,
+where they were kept till the Lord-Governor came: And because all the
+Country was mad to be going on this Golden Adventure, the Governor, by
+his Letters, commanded (for they sent some of the Gold to him) that a
+Guard should be set at the Mouth of the River of <i>Amazons</i>
+(a&nbsp;River so call’d, almost as broad as the River of <i>Thames</i>)
+and prohibited all People from going up that River, it conducting to
+those Mountains or Gold. But we going off for <i>England</i> before the
+Project was further prosecuted, and the Governor being drown’d in a
+Hurricane, either the Design died, or the <i>Dutch</i> have the
+Advantage of it: And ’tis to be bemoan’d what his Majesty lost, by
+losing that Part of <i>America</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Though this Digression is a little from my Story, however, since it
+contains some Proofs of the Curiosity and Daring of this great Man,
+I&nbsp;was content to omit nothing of his Character.</p>
+
+<p>It was thus for some Time we diverted him; but now <i>Imoinda</i>
+began to shew she was with Child, and did nothing but sigh and weep for
+the Captivity of her Lord, herself, and the Infant yet unborn; and
+believ’d, if it were so hard to gain the Liberty of two, ’twould be more
+difficult to get that for three. Her Griefs were so many Darts in the
+great Heart of <i>Cæsar</i>, and taking his Opportunity, one
+<i>Sunday</i>, when all the <i>Whites</i> were overtaken in Drink, as
+there were abundance of several Trades, and <i>Slaves</i> for four
+Years, that inhabited among the <i>Negro</i> Houses; and <i>Sunday</i>
+being their Day of Debauch, (otherwise they were a sort of
+<span class = "pagenum">190</span>
+Spies upon <i>Cæsar</i>) he went, pretending out of Goodness to ’em, to
+feast among ’em, and sent all his Musick, and order’d a great Treat for
+the whole Gang, about three hundred <i>Negroes</i>, and about an hundred
+and fifty were able to bear Arms, such as they had, which were
+sufficient to do Execution, with Spirits accordingly: For the
+<i>English</i> had none but rusty Swords, that no Strength could draw
+from a Scabbard; except the People of particular Quality, who took Care
+to oil ’em, and keep ’em in good Order: The Guns also, unless here and
+there one, or those newly carried from <i>England</i>, would do no Good
+or Harm; for ’tis the Nature of that Country to rust and eat up Iron, or
+any Metals but Gold and Silver. And they are very expert at the Bow,
+which the <i>Negroes</i> and <i>Indians</i> are perfect
+Masters&nbsp;of.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cæsar</i>, having singled out these Men from the Women and
+Children, made an Harangue to ’em, of the Miseries and Ignominies of
+Slavery; counting up all their Toils and Sufferings, under such Loads,
+Burdens and Drudgeries, as were fitter for Beasts than Men; senseless
+Brutes, than human Souls. He told ’em, it was not for Days, Months or
+Years, but for Eternity; there was no End to be of their Misfortunes:
+They suffer’d not like Men, who might find a Glory and Fortitude in
+Oppression; but like Dogs, that lov’d the Whip and Bell, and fawn’d the
+more they were beaten: That they had lost the divine Quality of Men, and
+were become insensible Asses, fit only to bear: Nay, worse; an Ass, or
+Dog, or Horse, having done his Duty, could lie down in Retreat, and rise
+to work again, and while he did his Duty, endur’d no Stripes; but Men,
+villanous, senseless Men, such as they, toil’d on all the tedious Week
+’till <i>Black Friday</i>; and then, whether they work’d or not, whether
+they were faulty or meriting, they, promiscuously, the Innocent with the
+Guilty, suffer’d the infamous Whip, the sordid Stripes, from their
+Fellow-Slaves, ’till their Blood trickled from all Parts of their Body;
+<span class = "pagenum">191</span>
+Blood, whose every Drop ought to be revenged with a Life of some of
+those Tyrants that impose it. ‘And why (<i>said&nbsp;he</i>) my dear
+Friends and Fellow-sufferers, should we be Slaves to an unknown People?
+Have they vanquished us nobly in Fight? Have they won us in Honourable
+Battle? And are we by the Chance of War become their Slaves? This would
+not anger a noble Heart; this would not animate a Soldier’s Soul: No,
+but we are bought and sold like Apes or Monkeys, to be the Sport of
+Women, Fools and Cowards; and the Support of Rogues and Runagades, that
+have abandoned their own Countries for Rapine, Murders, Theft and
+Villanies. Do you not hear every Day how they upbraid each other with
+Infamy of Life, below the wildest Salvages? And shall we render
+Obedience to such a degenerate Race, who have no one human Virtue left,
+to distinguish them from the vilest Creatures? Will you, I&nbsp;say,
+suffer the Lash from such Hands?’ <i>They all reply’d with one
+Accord</i>, ‘No, No, No; <i>Cæsar</i> has spoke like a great Captain,
+like a great King.’</p>
+
+<p>After this he would have proceeded, but was interrupted by a tall
+<i>Negro</i>, of some more Quality than the rest, his Name was
+<i>Tuscan</i>; who bowing at the Feet of <i>Cæsar</i>, cry’d, ‘My Lord,
+we have listen’d with Joy and Attention to what you have said; and, were
+we only Men, would follow so great a Leader through the World: But O!
+consider we are Husbands and Parents too, and have Things more dear to
+us than Life; our Wives and Children, unfit for Travel in those
+unpassable Woods, Mountains and Bogs. We have not only difficult Lands
+to overcome, but Rivers to wade, and Mountains to encounter; ravenous
+Beasts of Prey,’&mdash;<i>To this <em>Cæsar</em> reply’d</i>, ‘That
+Honour was the first Principle in Nature, that was to be obey’d; but as
+no Man would pretend to that, without all the Acts of Virtue,
+Compassion, Charity, Love, Justice and Reason, he found it not
+inconsistent with that, to take equal Care of their Wives and Children
+<span class = "pagenum">192</span>
+as they would of themselves; and that he did not design, when he led
+them to Freedom, and glorious Liberty, that they should leave that
+better Part of themselves to perish by the Hand of the Tyrant’s Whip:
+But if there were a Woman among them so degenerate from Love and Virtue,
+to chuse Slavery before the Pursuit of her Husband, and with the Hazard
+of her Life, to share with him in his Fortunes; that such a one ought to
+be abandoned, and left as a Prey to the common Enemy.’</p>
+
+<p>To which they all agreed&mdash;and bowed. After this, he spoke of the
+impassable Woods and Rivers; and convinced them, the more Danger the
+more Glory. He told them, that he had heard of one <i>Hannibal</i>,
+a&nbsp;great Captain, had cut his Way through Mountains of solid Rocks;
+and should a few Shrubs oppose them, which they could fire before ’em?
+No, ’twas a trifling Excuse to Men resolved to die, or overcome. As for
+Bogs, they are with a little Labour filled and harden’d; and the Rivers
+could be no Obstacle, since they swam by Nature, at least by Custom,
+from the first Hour of their Birth: That when the Children were weary,
+they must carry them by Turns, and the Woods and their own Industry
+would afford them Food. To this they all assented with Joy.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuscan</i> then demanded, what he would do: He said he would
+travel towards the Sea, plant a new Colony, and defend it by their
+Valour; and when they could find a Ship, either driven by Stress of
+Weather, or guided by Providence that Way, they would seize it, and make
+it a Prize, till it had transported them to their own Countries: at
+least they should be made free in his Kingdom, and be esteem’d as his
+Fellow-Sufferers, and Men that had the Courage and the Bravery to
+attempt, at least, for Liberty; and if they died in the Attempt, it
+would be more brave, than to live in perpetual Slavery.</p>
+
+<p>They bow’d and kiss’d his Feet at this Resolution, and with one
+Accord vow’d to follow him to Death; and that
+<span class = "pagenum">193</span>
+Night was appointed to begin their March. They made it known to their
+Wives, and directed them to tie their Hamocks about their Shoulders, and
+under their Arms, like a Scarf and to lead their Children that could go,
+and carry those that could not. The Wives, who pay an entire Obedience
+to their Husbands, obey’d, and stay’d for ’em where they were appointed:
+The Men stay’d but to furnish themselves with what defensive Arms they
+could get; and all met at the Rendezvouz, where <i>Cæsar</i> made a new
+encouraging Speech to ’em and led ’em out.</p>
+
+<p>But as they could not march far that Night, on <i>Monday</i> early,
+when the Overseers went to call ’em all together, to go to work, they
+were extremely surprized, to find not one upon the Place, but all fled
+with what Baggage they had. You may imagine this News was not only
+suddenly spread all over the Plantation, but soon reached the
+neighbouring ones; and we had by Noon about 600 Men, they call the
+Militia of the Country, that came to assist us in the Pursuit of the
+Fugitives: But never did one see so comical an Army march forth to War.
+The Men of any Fashion would not concern themselves, tho’ it were almost
+the Common Cause; for such Revoltings are very ill Examples, and have
+very fatal Consequences oftentimes, in many Colonies: But they had a
+Respect for <i>Cæsar</i>, and all Hands were against the
+<i>Parhamites</i> (as&nbsp;they called those of
+<i>Parham-Plantation</i>) because they did not in the first Place love
+the Lord-Governor; and secondly, they would have it that <i>Cæsar</i>
+was ill used, and baffled with: and ’tis not impossible but some of the
+best in the Country was of his Council in this Flight, and depriving us
+of all the Slaves; so that they of the better sort would not meddle in
+the Matter. <a class = "comm" name = "oroonoko_commtag6" id =
+"oroonoko_commtag6" href = "#oroonoko_comm6">The Deputy-Governor</a>, of
+whom I have had no great Occasion to speak, and who was the most fawning
+fair-tongu’d Fellow in the World, and one that pretended the most
+Friendship to <i>Cæsar</i>, was now the only violent Man against him;
+and though he had nothing,
+<span class = "pagenum">194</span>
+and so need fear nothing, yet talked and looked bigger than any Man. He
+was a Fellow, whose Character is not fit to be mentioned with the worst
+of the Slaves: This Fellow would lead his Army forth to meet
+<i>Cæsar</i>, or rather to pursue him. Most of their Arms were of those
+Sort of cruel Whips they call <i>Cat with nine Tails</i>; some had rusty
+useless Guns for Shew; others old Basket Hilts, whose Blades had never
+seen the Light in this Age; and others had long Staffs and Clubs. Mr.
+<i>Trefry</i> went along, rather to be a Mediator than a Conqueror in
+such a Battle; for he foresaw and knew, if by fighting they put the
+<i>Negroes</i> into Despair, they were a sort of sullen Fellows, that
+would drown or kill themselves before they would yield; and he advis’d
+that fair Means was best: But <i>Byam</i> was one that abounded in his
+own Wit, and would take his own Measures.</p>
+
+<p>It was not hard to find these Fugitives; for as they fled, they were
+forced to fire and cut the Woods before ’em: So that Night or Day they
+pursu’d ’em by the Light they made, and by the Path they had cleared.
+But as soon as <i>Cæsar</i> found that he was pursu’d, he put himself in
+a Posture of Defence, placing all the Woman and Children in the Rear;
+and himself, with <i>Tuscan</i> by his Side, or next to him, all
+promising to die or conquer. Encouraged thus, they never stood to
+parley, but fell on pell-mell upon the <i>English</i>, and killed some,
+and wounded a great many; they having Recourse to their Whips, as the
+best of their Weapons. And as they observed no Order, they perplexed the
+Enemy so sorely, with lashing ’em in the Eyes; and the Women and
+Children seeing their Husbands so treated, being of fearful and cowardly
+Dispositions, and hearing the <i>English</i> cry out, <i>Yield and Live!
+Yield, and be Pardon’d!</i> they all ran in amongst their Husbands and
+Fathers, and hung about them, crying out, <i>Yield! Yield, and leave
+<em>Cæsar</em> to their Revenge</i>; that by Degrees the Slaves
+abandon’d <i>Cæsar</i>, and left him only
+<span class = "pagenum">195</span>
+<i>Tuscan</i> and his Heroick <i>Imoinda</i>, who grown as big as she
+was, did nevertheless press near her Lord, having a Bow and a Quiver
+full of poisoned Arrows, which she managed with such Dexterity, that she
+wounded several, and shot the Governor into the Shoulder; of which Wound
+he had like to have died, but that an <i>Indian</i> Woman, his Mistress,
+sucked the Wound, and cleans’d it from the Venom: But however, he stir’d
+not from the Place till he had parly’d with <i>Cæsar</i>, who he found
+was resolved to die fighting, and would not be taken; no more would
+<i>Tuscan</i> or <i>Imoinda</i>. But he, more thirsting after Revenge of
+another Sort, than that of depriving him of Life, now made use of all
+his Art of Talking and Dissembling, and besought <i>Cæsar</i> to yield
+himself upon Terms which he himself should propose, and should be
+sacredly assented to, and kept by him. He told him, It was not that he
+any longer fear’d him, or could believe the Force of two Men, and a
+young Heroine, could overthrow all them, and with all the Slaves now on
+their Side also; but it was the vast Esteem he had for his Person, the
+Desire he had to serve so gallant a Man, and to hinder himself from the
+Reproach hereafter, of having been the Occasion of the Death of a
+Prince, whose Valour and Magnanimity deserved the Empire of the World.
+He protested to him, he looked upon his Action as gallant and brave,
+however tending to the Prejudice of his Lord and Master, who would by it
+have lost so considerable a Number of Slaves; that this Flight of his
+should be look’d on as a Heat of Youth, and a Rashness of a too forward
+Courage, and an unconsider’d Impatience of Liberty, and no more; and
+that he labour’d in vain to accomplish that which they would effectually
+perform as soon as any Ship arrived that would touch on his Coast: ‘So
+that if you will be pleased (<i>continued&nbsp;he</i>) to surrender
+yourself, all imaginable Respect shall be paid you; and your Self, your
+Wife and Child, if it be born here, shall depart free out of our Land.’
+But <i>Cæsar</i> would
+<span class = "pagenum">196</span>
+hear of no Composition; though <i>Byam</i> urged, if he pursued and went
+on in his Design, he would inevitably perish, either by great Snakes,
+wild Beasts or Hunger; and he ought to have Regard to his Wife, whose
+Condition requir’d Ease, and not the Fatigues of tedious Travel, where
+she could not be secured from being devoured. But <i>Cæsar</i> told him,
+there was no Faith in the White men, or the Gods they ador’d; who
+instructed them in Principles so false, that honest Men could not live
+amongst them; though no People profess’d so much, none perform’d so
+little: That he knew what he had to do when he dealt with Men of Honour;
+but with them a Man ought to be eternally on his Guard, and never to eat
+and drink with Christians, without his Weapon of Defence in his Hand;
+and, for his own Security, never to credit one Word they spoke. As for
+the Rashness and Inconsiderateness of his Action, he would confess the
+Governor is in the right; and that he was ashamed of what he had done in
+endeavouring to make those free, who were by Nature Slaves, poor
+wretched Rogues, fit to be used as Christian Tools; Dogs, treacherous
+and cowardly, fit for such Masters; and they wanted only but to be
+whipped into the Knowledge of the Christian Gods, to be the vilest of
+all creeping Things; to learn to worship such Deities as had not Power
+to make them just, brave, or honest: In fine, after a thousand Things of
+this Nature, not fit here to be recited, he told <i>Byam</i>, He had
+rather die, than live upon the same Earth with such Dogs. But
+<i>Trefry</i> and <i>Byam</i> pleaded and protested together so much,
+that <i>Trefry</i> believing the Governor to mean what he said, and
+speaking very cordially himself, generously put himself into
+<i>Cæsar’s</i> Hands, and took him aside, and persuaded him, even with
+Tears, to live, by surrendring himself, and to name his Conditions.
+<i>Cæsar</i> was overcome by his Wit and Reasons, and in Consideration
+of <i>Imoinda</i>; and demanding what he desired, and that it should be
+ratify’d by their Hands in
+<span class = "pagenum">197</span>
+Writing, because he had perceived that was the common Way of Contract
+between Man and Man amongst the Whites; all this was performed, and
+<i>Tuscan’s</i> Pardon was put in, and they surrender’d to the Governor,
+who walked peaceably down into the Plantation with them, after giving
+Order to bury their Dead. <i>Cæsar</i> was very much toil’d with the
+Bustle of the Day, for he had fought like a Fury; and what Mischief was
+done, he and <i>Tuscan</i> performed alone; and gave their Enemies a
+fatal Proof, that they durst do any Thing, and fear’d no mortal
+Force.</p>
+
+<p>But they were no sooner arrived at the Place where all the Slaves
+receive their Punishments of Whipping, but they laid Hands on
+<i>Cæsar</i> and <i>Tuscan</i>, faint with Heat and Toil; and surprizing
+them, bound them to two several Stakes, and whipped them in a most
+deplorable and inhuman Manner, rending the very Flesh from their Bones,
+especially <i>Cæsar</i>, who was not perceived to make any Moan, or to
+alter his Face, only to roll his Eyes on the faithless Governor, and
+those he believed Guilty, with Fierceness and Indignation; and to
+complete his Rage, he saw every one of those Slaves who but a few Days
+before ador’d him as something more than Mortal, now had a Whip to give
+him some Lashes, while he strove not to break his Fetters; tho’ if he
+had, it were impossible: but he pronounced a Woe and Revenge from his
+Eyes, that darted Fire, which was at once both aweful and terrible to
+behold.</p>
+
+<p>When they thought they were sufficiently revenged on him, they unty’d
+him, almost fainting with Loss of Blood, from a thousand Wounds all over
+his Body; from which they had rent his Clothes, and led him bleeding and
+naked as he was, and loaded him all over with Irons; and then rubb’d his
+Wounds, to complete their Cruelty, with <i>Indian</i> Pepper, which had
+like to have made him raving mad; and, in this Condition made him so
+fast to the Ground, that he could not stir, if his Pains and Wounds
+would have given him Leave. They spared <i>Imoinda</i>, and did not let
+her see
+<span class = "pagenum">198</span>
+this Barbarity committed towards her Lord, but carried her down to
+<i>Parham</i>, and shut her up; which was not in Kindness to her, but
+for Fear she should die with the Sight, or miscarry, and then they
+should lose a young Slave, and perhaps the Mother.</p>
+
+<p>You must know, that when the News was brought on <i>Monday</i>
+Morning, that <i>Cæsar</i> had betaken himself to the Woods, and carry’d
+with him all the <i>Negroes</i>, we were possess’d with extreme Fear,
+which no Persuasions could dissipate, that he would secure himself till
+Night, and then would come down and cut all our Throats. This
+Apprehension made all the Females of us fly down the River, to be
+secured; and while we were away, they acted this Cruelty; for I suppose
+I had Authority and Interest enough there, had I suspected any such
+Thing, to have prevented it: but we had not gone many Leagues, but the
+News overtook us, that <i>Cæsar</i> was taken and whipped liked a common
+Slave. We met on the River with Colonel <i>Martin</i>, a&nbsp;Man of
+great Gallantry, Wit, and Goodness, and whom I have celebrated in a
+Character of <a class = "comm" name = "oroonoko_commtag7" id =
+"oroonoko_commtag7" href = "#oroonoko_comm7">my new Comedy</a>, by his
+own Name, in Memory of so brave a Man: He was wise and eloquent, and,
+from the Fineness of his Parts, bore a great Sway over the Hearts of all
+the Colony: He was a Friend to <i>Cæsar</i>, and resented this false
+Dealing with him very much. We carried him back to <i>Parham</i>,
+thinking to have made an Accommodation; when he came, the first News we
+heard, was, That the Governor was dead of a Wound <i>Imoinda</i> had
+given him; but it was not so well. But it seems, he would have the
+Pleasure of beholding the Revenge he took on <i>Cæsar</i>; and before
+the cruel Ceremony was finished, he dropt down; and then they perceived
+the Wound he had on his Shoulder was by a venom’d Arrow, which, as I
+said, his <i>Indian</i> Mistress healed by sucking the Wound.</p>
+
+<p>We were no sooner arrived, but we went up to the Plantation to see
+<i>Cæsar</i>; whom we found in a very miserable
+<span class = "pagenum">199</span>
+and unexpressible Condition; and I have a thousand Times admired how he
+lived in so much tormenting Pain. We said all Things to him, that
+Trouble, Pity and Good-Nature could suggest, protesting our Innocency of
+the Fact, and our Abhorrence of such Cruelties; making a thousand
+Professions and Services to him, and begging as many Pardons for the
+Offenders, till we said so much, that he believed we had no Hand in his
+ill Treatment; but told us, He could never pardon <i>Byam</i>; as for
+<i>Trefry</i>, he confess’d he saw his Grief and Sorrow for his
+Suffering, which he could not hinder, but was like to have been beaten
+down by the very Slaves, for speaking in his Defence: But for
+<i>Byam</i>, who was their Leader, their Head&mdash;and should, by his
+Justice and Honour, have been an Example to ’em&mdash;for him, he wished
+to live to take a dire Revenge of him; and said, <i>It had been well for
+him, if he had sacrificed me, instead of giving me the <ins class =
+"correction" title = "spelling unchanged">comtemptible</ins> Whip.</i>
+He refused to talk much; but begging us to give him our Hands, he took
+them, and protested never to lift up his to do us any Harm. He had a
+great Respect for Colonel <i>Martin</i>, and always took his Counsel
+like that of a Parent; and assured him, he would obey him in any Thing
+but his Revenge on <i>Byam</i>: ‘Therefore (<i>said&nbsp;he</i>) for his
+own Safety, let him <ins class = "correction" title =
+"spelling unchanged">speedly</ins> dispatch me; for if I could dispatch myself,
+I&nbsp;would not, till that Justice were done to my injured Person, and
+the Contempt of a Soldier: No, I&nbsp;would not kill myself, even after
+a Whipping, but will be content to live with that Infamy, and be pointed
+at by every grinning Slave, till I have completed my Revenge; and then
+you shall see, that <i>Oroonoko</i> scorns to live with the Indignity
+that was put on <i>Cæsar</i>.’ All we could do, could get no more Words
+from him; and we took Care to have him put immediately into a healing
+Bath, to rid him of his Pepper, and ordered a Chirurgeon to anoint him
+with healing Balm, which he suffer’d, and in some Time he began to be
+able to walk and eat. We failed not
+<span class = "pagenum">200</span>
+to visit him every Day, and to that End had him brought to an Apartment
+at <i>Parham</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The Governor had no sooner recover’d, and had heard of the Menaces of
+<i>Cæsar</i>, but he called <a class = "comm" name = "oroonoko_commtag8"
+id = "oroonoko_commtag8" href = "#oroonoko_comm8">his Council</a>, who
+(not to disgrace them, or burlesque the Government there) consisted of
+such notorious Villains as <i>Newgate</i> never transported; and,
+possibly, originally were such who understood neither the Laws of God or
+Man, and had no sort of Principles to make them worthy the Name of Men;
+but at the very Council-Table would contradict and fight with one
+another, and swear so bloodily, that ’twas terrible to hear and see ’em.
+(Some of ’em were afterwards hanged, when the <i>Dutch</i> took
+Possession of the Place, others sent off in Chains.) But calling these
+special Rulers of the Nation together, and requiring their Counsel in
+this weighty Affair, they all concluded, that (damn ’em) it might be
+their own Cases; and that <i>Cæsar</i> ought to be made an Example to
+all the <i>Negroes</i>, to fright ’em from daring to threaten their
+Betters, their Lords and Masters; and at this Rate no Man was safe from
+his own Slaves; and concluded, <i>nemine contradicente</i>, That
+<i>Cæsar</i> should be hanged.</p>
+
+<p><i>Trefry</i> then thought it Time to use his Authority, and told
+<i>Byam</i>, his Command did not extend to his Lord’s Plantation; and
+that <i>Parham</i> was as much exempt from the Law as <i>White-Hall</i>;
+and that they ought no more to touch the Servants of the Lord&mdash;(who
+there represented the King’s Person) than they could those about the
+King himself; and that <i>Parham</i> was a Sanctuary; and tho’ his Lord
+were absent in Person, his Power was still in being there, which he had
+entrusted with him, as far as the Dominions of his particular
+Plantations reached, and all that belonged to it; the rest of the
+Country, as <i>Byam</i> was Lieutenant to his Lord, he might exercise
+his Tyranny upon. <i>Trefry</i> had others as powerful, or more, that
+interested themselves in <i>Cæsar’s</i> Life, and absolutely said, he
+<span class = "pagenum">201</span>
+should be defended. So turning the Governor, and his wise Council, out
+of Doors, (for they sat at <i>Parham-House</i>) we set a Guard upon our
+Lodging-Place, and would admit none but those we called Friends to us
+and <i>Cæsar</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The Governor having remain’d wounded at <i>Parham</i>, till his
+Recovery was completed, <i>Cæsar</i> did not know but he was still
+there, and indeed for the most Part, his Time was spent there: for he
+was one that loved to live at other Peoples Expence, and if he were a
+Day absent, he was ten present there; and us’d to play, and walk, and
+hunt, and fish with <i>Cæsar</i>: So that <i>Cæsar</i> did not at all
+doubt, if he once recover’d Strength, but he should find an Opportunity
+of being revenged on him; though, after such a Revenge, he could not
+hope to live: for if he escaped the Fury of the <i>English</i> Mobile,
+who perhaps would have been glad of the Occasion to have killed him, he
+was resolved not to survive his Whipping; yet he had some tender Hours,
+a&nbsp;repenting Softness, which he called his Fits of Cowardice,
+wherein he struggled with Love for the Victory of his Heart, which took
+Part with his charming <i>Imoinda</i> there; but for the most Part, his
+Time was pass’d in melancholy Thoughts, and black Designs. He
+consider’d, if he should do this Deed, and die either in the Attempt, or
+after it, he left his lovely <i>Imoinda</i> a Prey, or at best a Slave
+to the enraged Multitude; his great Heart could not endure that Thought:
+<i>Perhaps</i> (said&nbsp;he) <i>she may be first ravish’d by every
+Brute; expos’d first to their nasty Lusts, and then a shameful
+Death</i>: No, he could not live a Moment under that Apprehension, too
+insupportable to be borne. These were his Thoughts, and his silent
+Arguments with his Heart, as he told us afterwards: So that now
+resolving not only to kill <i>Byam</i>, but all those he thought had
+enraged him; pleasing his great Heart with the fancy’d Slaughter he
+should make over the whole Face of the Plantation; he first resolved on
+a Deed, (that however horrid it first appear’d to us all) when we had
+heard his Reasons, we
+<span class = "pagenum">202</span>
+thought it brave and just. Being able to walk, and, as he believed, fit
+for the Execution of his great Design, he begg’d <i>Trefry</i> to trust
+him into the Air, believing a Walk would do him good; which was granted
+him; and taking <i>Imoinda</i> with him, as he used to do in his more
+happy and calmer Days, he led her up into a Wood, where (after with a
+thousand Sighs, and long gazing silently on her Face, while Tears
+gush’d, in spite of him, from his Eyes) he told her his Design, first of
+killing her, and then his Enemies, and next himself, and the
+Impossibility of escaping, and therefore he told her the Necessity of
+dying. He found the heroick Wife faster pleading for Death, than he was
+to propose it, when she found his fix’d Resolution; and, on her Knees,
+besought him not to leave her a Prey to his Enemies. He (grieved to
+Death) yet pleased at her noble Resolution, took her up, and embracing
+of her with all the Passion and Languishment of a dying Lover, drew his
+Knife to kill this Treasure of his Soul, this Pleasure of his Eyes;
+while Tears trickled down his Cheeks, hers were smiling with Joy she
+should die by so noble a Hand, and be sent into her own Country (for
+that’s their Notion of the next World) by him she so tenderly loved, and
+so truly ador’d in this: For Wives have a Respect for their Husbands
+equal to what any other People pay a Deity; and when a Man finds any
+Occasion to quit his Wife, if he love her, she dies by his Hand; if not,
+he sells her, or suffers some other to kill her. It being thus, you may
+believe the Deed was soon resolv’d on; and ’tis not to be doubted, but
+the parting, the eternal Leave-taking of two such Lovers, so greatly
+born, so sensible, so beautiful, so young, and so fond, must be very
+moving, as the Relation of it was to me afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>All that Love could say in such Cases, being ended, and all the
+intermitting Irresolutions being adjusted, the lovely, young and ador’d
+Victim lays herself down before the Sacrificer; while he, with a Hand
+resolved, and a
+<span class = "pagenum">203</span>
+Heart-breaking within, gave the fatal Stroke, first cutting her Throat,
+and then severing her yet smiling Face from that delicate Body, pregnant
+as it was with the Fruits of tenderest Love. As soon as he had done, he
+laid the Body decently on Leaves and Flowers, of which he made a Bed,
+and conceal’d it under the same Cover-lid of Nature; only her Face he
+left yet bare to look on: But when he found she was dead, and past all
+Retrieve, never more to bless him with her Eyes, and soft Language, his
+Grief swell’d up to Rage; he tore, he rav’d, he roar’d like some Monster
+of the Wood, calling on the lov’d Name of <i>Imoinda</i>. A thousand
+Times he turned the fatal Knife that did the Deed towards his own Heart,
+with a Resolution to go immediately after her; but dire Revenge, which
+was now a thousand Times more fierce in his Soul than before, prevents
+him; and he would cry out, ‘No, since I have sacrific’d <i>Imoinda</i>
+to my Revenge, shall I lose that Glory which I have purchased so dear,
+as at the Price of the fairest, dearest, softest Creature that ever
+Nature made? No, no!’ Then at her Name Grief would get the Ascendant of
+Rage, and he would lie down by her Side, and water her Face with Showers
+of Tears, which never were wont to fall from those Eyes; and however
+bent he was on his intended Slaughter, he had not Power to stir from the
+Sight of this dear Object, now more beloved, and more ador’d than
+ever.</p>
+
+<p>He remained in this deplorable Condition for two Days, and never rose
+from the Ground where he had made her sad Sacrifice; at last rouzing
+from her Side, and accusing himself with living too long, now
+<i>Imoinda</i> was dead, and that the Deaths of those barbarous Enemies
+were deferred too long, he resolved now to finish the great Work: but
+offering to rise, he found his Strength so decay’d, that he reeled to
+and fro, like Boughs assailed by contrary Winds; so that he was forced
+to lie down again, and try to summon all his Courage to his Aid. He
+found his Brains turned
+<span class = "pagenum">204</span>
+round, and his Eyes were dizzy, and Objects appear’d not the same to him
+they were wont to do; his Breath was short, and all his Limbs surpriz’d
+with a Faintness he had never felt before. He had not eat in two Days,
+which was one Occasion of his Feebleness, but Excess of Grief was the
+greatest; yet still he hoped he should recover Vigour to act his Design,
+and lay expecting it yet six Days longer; still mourning over the dead
+Idol of his Heart, and striving every Day to rise, but could not.</p>
+
+<p>In all this time you may believe we were in no little Affliction for
+<i>Cæsar</i> and his Wife; some were of Opinion he was escaped, never to
+return; others thought some Accident had happened to him: But however,
+we fail’d not to send out a hundred People several Ways, to search for
+him. A&nbsp;Party of about forty went that Way he took, among whom was
+<i>Tuscan</i>, who was perfectly reconciled to <i>Byam</i>: They had not
+gone very far into the Wood, but they smelt an unusual Smell, as of a
+dead Body; for Stinks must be very noisom, that can be distinguish’d
+among such a Quantity of natural Sweets, as every Inch of that Land
+produces: so that they concluded they should find him dead, or some body
+that was so; they pass’d on towards it, as loathsom as it was, and made
+such rustling among the Leaves that lie thick on the Ground, by
+continual falling, that <i>Cæsar</i> heard he was approach’d; and though
+he had, during the Space of these eight Days, endeavour’d to rise, but
+found he wanted Strength, yet looking up, and seeing his Pursuers, he
+rose, and reel’d to a neighbouring Tree, against which he fix’d his
+Back; and being within a dozen Yards of those that advanc’d and saw him,
+he call’d out to them, and bid them approach no nearer, if they would be
+safe. So that they stood still, and hardly believing their Eyes, that
+would persuade them that it was <i>Cæsar</i> that spoke to them, so much
+he was alter’d; they ask’d him, what he had done with his Wife, for they
+smelt a Stink that almost struck them dead? He pointing to the
+<span class = "pagenum">205</span>
+dead Body, sighing, cry’d, <i>Behold her there.</i> They put off the
+Flowers that cover’d her, with their Sticks, and found she was kill’d,
+and cry’d out, <i>Oh, Monster! that hast murder’d thy Wife.</i> Then
+asking him, why he did so cruel a Deed? He reply’d, He had no Leisure to
+answer impertinent Questions: ‘You may go back
+(<i>continued&nbsp;he</i>) and tell the faithless Governor, he may thank
+Fortune that I am breathing my last; and that my Arm is too feeble to
+obey my Heart, in what it had design’d him’: But his Tongue faultering,
+and trembling, he could scarce end what he was saying. The
+<i>English</i> taking Advantage by his Weakness, cry’d, <i>Let us take
+him alive by all Means.</i> He heard ’em; and, as if he had reviv’d from
+a Fainting, or a Dream, he cried out, ‘No, Gentlemen, you are deceived;
+you will find no more <i>Cæsars</i> to be whipt; no more find a Faith in
+me; Feeble as you think me, I&nbsp;have Strength yet left to secure me
+from a second Indignity.’ They swore all anew; and he only shook his
+Head, and beheld them with Scorn. Then they cry’d out, <i>Who will
+venture on this single Man? Will nobody?</i> They stood all silent,
+while <i>Cæsar</i> replied, <i>Fatal will be the Attempt of the first
+Adventurer, let him assure himself</i>, (and, at that Word, held up his
+Knife in a menacing Posture:) <i>Look ye, ye faithless Crew</i>, said
+he, <i>’tis not Life I seek, nor am I afraid of dying</i>, (and at that
+Word, cut a Piece of Flesh from his own Throat, and threw it at ’em)
+<i>yet still I would live if I could, till I had perfected my Revenge:
+But, oh! it cannot be; I&nbsp;feel Life gliding from my Eyes and Heart;
+and if I make not haste, I&nbsp;shall fall a Victim to the shameful
+Whip.</i> At that, he rip’d up his own Belly, and took his Bowels and
+pull’d ’em out, with what Strength he could; while some, on their Knees
+imploring, besought him to hold his Hand. But when they saw him
+tottering, they cry’d out, <i>Will none venture on him?</i> A bold
+<i>Englishman</i> cry’d, <i>Yes, if he were the Devil</i>, (taking
+Courage when he saw him almost dead) and swearing a horrid Oath for his
+farewel to the World, he
+<span class = "pagenum">206</span>
+rush’d on him. <i>Cæsar</i> with his arm’d Hand, met him so fairly, as
+stuck him to the Heart, and he Fell dead at his feet. <i>Tuscan</i>
+seeing that, cry’d out, <i>I&nbsp;love thee, O&nbsp;<em>Cæsar</em>! and
+therefore will not let thee die, if possible</i>; and running to him,
+took him in his Arms; but, at the same time, warding a Blow that
+<i>Cæsar</i> made at his Bosom, he receiv’d it quite through his Arm;
+and <i>Cæsar</i> having not Strength to pluck the Knife forth, tho’ he
+attempted it, <i>Tuscan</i> neither pull’d it out himself, nor suffer’d
+it to be pull’d out, but came down with it sticking in his Arm; and the
+Reason he gave for it, was, because the Air should not get into the
+Wound. They put their Hands a-cross, and carry’d <i>Cæsar</i> between
+six of ’em, fainting as he was, and they thought dead, or just dying;
+and they brought him to <i>Parham</i>, and laid him on a Couch, and had
+the Chirurgeon immediately to him, who dressed his Wounds, and sow’d up
+his Belly, and us’d Means to bring him to Life, which they effected. We
+ran all to see him; and, if before we thought him so beautiful a Sight,
+he was now so alter’d, that his Face was like a Death’s-Head black’d
+over, nothing but Teeth and Eye-holes: For some Days we suffer’d no Body
+to speak to him, but caused Cordials to be poured down his Throat; which
+sustained his Life, and in six or seven Days he recovered his Senses:
+For, you must know, that Wounds are almost to a Miracle cur’d in the
+<i>Indies</i>; unless Wounds in the Legs, which they rarely ever
+cure.</p>
+
+<p>When he was well enough to speak, we talk’d to him, and ask’d him
+some Questions about his Wife, and the Reasons why he kill’d her; and he
+then told us what I have related of that Resolution, and of his Parting,
+and he besought us we would let him die, and was extremely afflicted to
+think it was possible he might live: He assur’d us, if we did not
+dispatch him, he would prove very fatal to a great many. We said all we
+could to make him live, and gave him new Assurances; but he begg’d we
+would
+<span class = "pagenum">207</span>
+not think so poorly of him, or of his Love to <i>Imoinda</i>, to imagine
+we could flatter him to Life again: But the Chirurgeon assur’d him he
+could not live, and therefore he need not fear. We were all (but
+<i>Cæsar</i>) afflicted at this News, and the Sight was ghastly: His
+Discourse was sad; and the earthy Smell about him so strong, that I was
+persuaded to leave the Place for some time, (being my self but sickly,
+and very apt to fall into Fits of dangerous Illness upon any
+extraordinary Melancholy.) The Servants, and <i>Trefry</i>, and the
+Chirurgeons, promis’d all to take what possible Care they could of the
+Life of <i>Cæsar</i>; and I, taking Boat, went with other Company to
+Colonel <i>Martin’s</i>, about three Days Journey down the River. But I
+was no sooner gone, than the Governor taking <i>Trefry</i>, about some
+pretended earnest Business, a&nbsp;Day’s Journey up the River, having
+communicated his Design to <a class = "comm" name = "oroonoko_commtag9"
+id = "oroonoko_commtag9" href = "#oroonoko_comm9">one
+<i>Banister</i></a>, a&nbsp;wild <i>Irish</i> Man, one of the Council,
+a&nbsp;Fellow of absolute Barbarity, and fit to execute any Villany, but
+rich; he came up to <i>Parham</i>, and forcibly took <i>Cæsar</i>, and
+had him carried to the same Post where he was whipp’d; and causing him
+to be ty’d to it, and a great Fire made before him, he told him he
+should die like a Dog, as he was. <i>Cæsar</i> replied, This was the
+first piece of Bravery that ever <i>Banister</i> did, and he never spoke
+Sense till he pronounc’d that Word; and if he would keep it, he would
+declare, in the other World, that he was the only Man, of all the
+<i>Whites</i>, that ever he heard speak Truth. And turning to the Men
+that had bound him, he said, <i>My Friends, am I to die, or to be
+whipt?</i> And they cry’d, <i>Whipt! no, you shall not escape so
+well.</i> And then he reply’d, smiling, <i>A&nbsp;Blessing on thee</i>;
+and assur’d them they need not tie him, for he would stand fix’d like a
+Rock, and endure Death so as should encourage them to die: <i>But if you
+whip me</i> (said&nbsp;he) <i>be sure you tie me fast</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He had learn’d to take Tobacco; and when he was assur’d he should
+die, he desir’d they would give him a
+<span class = "pagenum">208</span>
+Pipe in his Mouth, ready lighted; which they did: And the Executioner
+came, and first cut off his Members, and threw them into the Fire; after
+that, with an ill-favour’d Knife, they cut off his Ears and his Nose,
+and burn’d them; he still smoak’d on, as if nothing had touch’d him;
+then they hack’d off one of his Arms, and still he bore up and held his
+Pipe; but at the cutting off the other Arm, his Head sunk, and his Pipe
+dropt, and he gave up the Ghost, without a Groan, or a Reproach. My
+Mother and Sister were by him all the While, but not suffer’d to save
+him; so rude and wild were the Rabble, and so inhuman were the Justices
+who stood by to see the Execution, who after paid dear enough for their
+Insolence. They cut <i>Cæsar</i> into Quarters, and sent them to several
+of the chief Plantations: One Quarter was sent to Colonel <i>Martin</i>;
+who refus’d it, and swore, he had rather see the Quarters of
+<i>Banister</i>, and the Governor himself, than those of <i>Cæsar</i>,
+on his Plantations; and that he could govern his <i>Negroes</i>, without
+terrifying and grieving them with frightful Spectacles of a mangled
+King.</p>
+
+<p class = "space">
+Thus died this great Man, worthy of a better Fate, and a more sublime
+Wit than mine to write his Praise: Yet, I&nbsp;hope, the Reputation of
+my Pen is considerable enough to make his glorious Name to survive to
+all Ages, with that of the brave, the beautiful and the constant
+<i>Imoinda</i>.</p>
+
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<h5><a name = "oroonoko_notes" id = "oroonoko_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+Oroonoko.</h5>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">524</span>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "app_comm1" id = "app_comm1" href = "#oroonoko_dedic">p.
+509</a>
+<i>Appendix. Oronooko: Epistle Dedicatory.</i> Richard Maitland, fourth
+Earl of Lauderdale (1653-95), eldest son of Charles, third Earl of
+Lauderdale by Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Richard Lauder of
+Halton, was born 20 June, 1653. Before his father succeeded to the
+Lauderdale title he was styled of Over-Gogar; after that event he was
+known as Lord Maitland. 9&nbsp;October, 1678, he was sworn a Privy
+Councillor, and appointed Joint General of the Mint with his father. In
+1681 he was made Lord Justice General, but deprived of that office three
+years later on account of suspected communications with his
+father-in-law, Argyll, who had fled to Holland in 1681. Maitland,
+however, was in truth a strong Jacobite, and refusing to accept the
+Revolution settlement became an exile with his King. He is said to have
+been present at the battle of the Boyne, 1&nbsp;July, 1690. He resided
+for some time at St. Germains, but fell into disfavour, perhaps owing to
+the well-known protestant sympathies of his wife, Lady Agnes Campbell
+(1658-1734), second daughter of the fanatical Archibald, Earl of Argyll.
+From St. Germains Maitland retired to Paris, where he died in 1695. He
+had succeeded to the Earldom of Lauderdale 9 June, 1691, but was
+outlawed by the Court of Justiciary, 23 July, 1694. He left no issue.
+Lauderdale was the author of a verse translation of Virgil (8vo, 1718
+and 2 Vols., 12mo, 1737). Dryden, to whom he sent a MS. copy from Paris,
+states that whilst working on his own version he consulted this whenever
+a crux appeared in the Latin text. Lauderdale also wrote <i>A Memorial
+on the Estate of Scotland</i> (about 1690), printed in Hooke’s
+<i>Correspondence</i> (Roxburghe Club), and there wrongly ascribed to
+the third Earl, his father.</p>
+
+<p>The Dedication only occurs in the first edition of <i>Oronooko</i>
+(1688), of which I can trace but one copy. This is in the library of Mr.
+F.&nbsp;F. Norcross of Chicago, whose brother-in-law, Mr. Harold B.
+Wrenn, most kindly transcribed and transmitted to me the Epistle
+Dedicatory. It, unfortunately, arrived too late for insertion at
+p.&nbsp;129.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum"><i>520</i></span>
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm1" id = "oroonoko_comm1" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag1">p. 130</a>
+<i>I gave ’em to the King’s Theatre.</i> Sir Robert Howard and Dryden’s
+heroic tragedy, <i>The Indian Queen</i>, was produced at the Theatre
+Royal in mid-January, 1663. It is a good play, but the extraordinary
+success it attained was in no small measure due to the excellence and
+magnificence of the scenic effects and mounting. 27 January, Pepys
+noticed that the streets adjacent to the theatre were ‘full of coaches
+at the new play <i>The Indian Queen</i>, which for show, they say,
+exceeds <i>Henry VIII</i>.’ On 1 February he himself found it ‘indeed a
+most pleasant show’. The grandeur of the <i>mise en scène</i> became
+long proverbial in theatrical history. Zempoalla, the Indian Queen,
+a&nbsp;fine rôle, was superbly acted by Mrs. Marshall, the leading
+tragedienne of the day. The feathered ornaments which Mrs. Behn mentions
+must have formed a quaint but doubtless striking addition to the
+actress’s pseudo-classic attire. Bernbaum pictures ‘Nell Gwynn<a class =
+"tag" name = "tag_oroonoko_5" id = "tag_oroonoko_5" href =
+"#note_oroonoko_5">5</a> in the true costume of a Carib belle’,
+a&nbsp;quite unfair deduction from Mrs. Behn’s words.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">521</span>
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm2" id = "oroonoko_comm2" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag2">p. 168</a>
+<i>Osenbrigs.</i> More usually ‘osnaburg’, so named from Osnabrück in
+North Germany, a&nbsp;kind of coarse linen made in this town.
+Narborough’s Journal, 1669 (<i>An&nbsp;Account of Several Late
+Voyages</i>, 1694), speaks of ‘Cloth, Osenbrigs, Tobacco’. cf.
+<i>Pennsylvania Col. Records</i> (1732): ‘That to each there be given a
+couple of Shirts, a&nbsp;Jackett, two pairs of trowsers of
+Oznabrigs.’</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm3" id = "oroonoko_comm3" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag3">p. 174</a>
+<i>as soon as the Governour arrived</i>. The Governor was Francis
+Willoughby, fifth Baron Willoughby of Parham (1613?-1666). He had
+arrived at Barbadoes, 29 April, 1650, and was received as Governor 7
+May, which same day he caused Charles II to be proclaimed. An ardent
+royalist, he was dispossessed by an Act of Parliament, 4&nbsp;March,
+1652, and summoned back to England. At the Restoration he was
+reinstated, and arrived the second time with full powers in <ins class =
+"correction" title = "text reads ‘Barbardoes’">Barbadoes</ins>, 10
+August, 1663. About the end of July, 1666, he was lost at sea on board
+the good ship <i>Hope</i>.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm4" id = "oroonoko_comm4" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag4">p. 177</a>
+<i>my Father . . . never arriv’d to possess the Honour design’d him.</i>
+Bernbaum, following the mistaken statement that Mrs. Behn’s father, John
+Amis, was a barber, argues that a man in such a position could hardly
+have obtained so important a post, and if her ‘father was not sent to
+Surinam, the only reason she gives for being there disappears.’ However,
+since we know her father to have been no barber, but of good family,
+this line of discussion falls to the ground.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm5" id = "oroonoko_comm5" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag5">p. 180</a>
+<i>Brother to Harry Martin the great Oliverian.</i> Henry, or Harry, and
+George Marten were the two sons of Sir Henry Marten (<i>ob.</i> 1641)
+and his first wife, Elizabeth, who died 19 June, 1618. For the elder
+brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note Vol.&nbsp;I, p.&nbsp;457.
+<a class = "crossref" href = "#oroonoko_crossref5">
+Cross-reference: Note from Volume I</a></p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm6" id = "oroonoko_comm6" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag6">p. 193</a>
+<i>The Deputy Governor.</i> William Byam was ‘Lieutenant General of
+Guiana and Governor of Willoughby Land’, 1661-7. Even previously to this
+he had gained no little influence and power in these colonies. He headed
+the forces that defended Surinam in 1667 against the Dutch Admiral
+Crynsens, who, however, proved victorious.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm7" id = "oroonoko_comm7" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag7">p. 198</a>
+<i>my new Comedy. The Younger Brother; or, The Amorous Jilt</i>,
+posthumously produced under the auspices of, and with some alterations
+by, Charles Gildon at Drury Lane in 1696. George Marteen, acted by
+Powell, is the young and gallant hero of the comedy.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm8" id = "oroonoko_comm8" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag8">p. 200</a>
+<i>his Council</i>. In <i>The Widow Ranter</i> Mrs. Behn draws a vivid
+picture of these deboshed ruffians.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "oroonoko_comm9" id = "oroonoko_comm9" href =
+"#oroonoko_commtag9">p. 207</a>
+<i>one Banister</i>. Sergeant Major James Banister being, after Byam’s
+departure in 1667, ‘the only remaining eminent person’ became
+Lieutenant-Governor. It was he who in 1668 made the final surrender of
+the colony. Later, having quarrelled with the Dutch he was imprisoned by
+them.</p>
+
+<p class = "footnote">
+<a class = "tag" name = "note_oroonoko_5" id = "note_oroonoko_5" href =
+"#tag_oroonoko_5">5</a>
+Nell Gwynne had no part in the play.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class = "crossref">
+<h5><a name = "oroonoko_crossref5" id = "oroonoko_crossref5">
+Cross-Reference</a></h5>
+
+<p><a href = "#oroonoko_comm5">Note to p. 180</a>:
+For the elder brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note
+Vol.&nbsp;I, p.&nbsp;457.</p>
+
+<p>Vol. I, p. 457 note (referring to <i>The Roundheads</i>, v,
+<span class = "smallroman">II</span>):</p>
+
+<p class = "inset">
+p. 414 <i>Peters the first</i>, <i>Martin the Second</i>. Hugh Peters
+has been noticed before. Henry Martin was an extreme republican, and at
+one time even a Leveller. He was a commissioner of the High Court of
+Justice and a regicide. At the Restoration he was imprisoned for life
+and died at Chepstow Castle, <ins class = "correction" title =
+"date in original">1681</ins>, aged seventy-eight. He was notorious for
+profligacy and shamelessness, and kept a very seraglio of
+mistresses.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">209</span>
+<a name = "agnes_castro" id = "agnes_castro">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>AGNES DE CASTRO.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">211</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "agnes_intro" id = "agnes_intro">
+INTRODUCTION.</a></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> ‘sweet sentimental tragedy’ of
+Agnes de Castro was founded by Mrs. Behn upon a work by Mlle S.&nbsp;B.
+de Brillac, <i>Agnès de Castro, nouvelle portugaise</i> (1688), and
+various subsequent editions. In the same year (1688) as Mrs. Behn’s
+<i>Agnes de Castro; or, The Force of Generous Blood</i> was published
+there appeared ‘Two New Novels, i.&nbsp;<i>The Art of Making Love</i>.<a
+class = "tag" name = "tag_agnes_1" id = "tag_agnes_1" href =
+"#note_agnes_1">1</a> ii.&nbsp;<i>The Fatal Beauty of Agnes de
+Castro</i>: Taken out of the History of Portugal. Translated from the
+French by P.&nbsp;B.&nbsp;G.<a class = "tag" name = "tag_agnes_2" id =
+"tag_agnes_2" href = "#note_agnes_2">2</a> For R.&nbsp;Bentley’ (12mo).
+Each has a separate title page. Bellon’s version does not differ
+materially from Mrs. Behn, but she far exceeds him in spirit and
+niceness of style.</p>
+
+<p>So much legend has surrounded the romantic history of the beautiful
+Ines de Castro that it is impossible fully to elucidate every detail of
+her life. Born in the early years of the fourteenth century, she was the
+daughter of Pedro Fernandez de Castro, major domo to Alphonso XI of
+Castille. She accompanied her relative, Dona Constança Manuel, daughter
+to the Duke of Peñafiel, to the court of Alphonso IV of Portugal when
+this lady was to wed the Infante Don Pedro. Here Ines excited the
+fondest love in Pedro’s heart and the passion was reciprocated. She bore
+him several children, and there can be no doubt that Dona Constança was
+madly jealous of her husband’s amour with her fair friend. 13 November,
+1345, Constança died, and Pedro immediately married his mistress at
+Braganza in the presence of the Bishop of Guarda. Their nuptials were
+kept secret, and the old King kept pressing his son to take a wife.
+Before long his spies found out the reason of the Infante’s constant
+refusals; and, beside himself with rage, he watched an opportunity
+whilst Pedro, on a great hunting expedition, was absent from Coimbra
+where they resided, and had Ines cruelly assassinated 7 January, 1355.
+The grief of Pedro was terrible, he plunged the country into civil war,
+and it was only by the tenderest solicitations of his mother and the
+authority of several holy monks and bishops that he was restrained from
+taking a terrible revenge upon his father. Alphonso died, his power
+curtailed, his end unhappy, May, 1357.</p>
+
+<p>A very literature has grown up around the lovely Ines, and many more
+than a hundred items of interest could be enumerated. The best authority
+is J.&nbsp;de Araujo, whose monumental <i>Bibliographia Inesiana</i> was
+published in 1897. Mrs. Behn’s novel was immensely popular and is
+included, with some
+<span class = "pagenum">212</span>
+unnecessary moral observations as preface, in Mrs. Griffith’s <i>A
+Collection of Novels</i> (1777), Vol. III, which has a plate
+illustrating the tale. It was turned into French by
+Marie-Geneviève-Charlotte Tiroux d’ Arconville (1720-1805), wife of a
+councillor of the Parliament, an <ins class = "correction" title =
+"spelling unchanged">aimable</ins> blue-stocking who devoted her life
+wholly to literature, and translated freely from English. This work is
+to be found in <i>Romans (les deux premiers .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. tirés des
+Lettres Persanes .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. par M.&nbsp;Littleton et le dernier
+.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. d’un Recueil de Romans .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. de Madame Behn)
+traduits de l’&nbsp;Anglois</i>, (Amsterdam, 1761.) It occurs again in
+<i>Mélanges de Litterature</i> (12mo, 1775, etc.), Vol.&nbsp;VI.</p>
+
+<p>A tragedy, <i>Agnes de Castro</i>, written by that philosophical
+lady, Catherine Trotter (afterwards Cockburn), at the early age of
+sixteen, and produced at the Theatre Royal, 1696, with Powell,
+Verbruggen, Mrs. Rogers in the principal parts, is directly founded upon
+Mrs. Behn. It is a mediocre play, and the same can even more truly be
+said of Mallet’s cold <i>Elvira</i> (1763). This was acted, however,
+with fair success thirteen times. Garrick played Don Pedro, his last
+original part, and Mrs. Cibber Elvira. Such dull exercises as
+C.&nbsp;Symmons, <i>Inez, a&nbsp;tragedy</i> (1796), and <i>Ignez de
+Castro</i>, a&nbsp;tragedy in verse, intended for <i>Hoad’s Magazine</i>
+call for no comment.</p>
+
+<p>There is a French play by Lamotte on the subject of Ines de Castro,
+which was first produced 6 April, 1723. Voltaire found the first four
+acts execrable and laughed consumedly. The fifth was so tender and true
+that he melted into tears. In Italian we have, from the pen of
+Bertoletti, <i>Inez de Castro</i>, tragedia, Milano, 1826.</p>
+
+<p>In Spanish and Portuguese there are, of course, innumerable poems,
+treaties, tragedies, studies, romances. Lope de Vega wrote <i>Dona Inez
+de Castro</i>, and the beautiful episode of Camoens is deservedly
+famous. Antonio Ferreira’s splendid tragedy is well known. First
+published in <i>Comedias Famosas dos Doctores de Sa de Mirande</i> (4to,
+1622), it can also be read in <i>Poemas lusitanos</i> (2&nbsp;Vols.,
+8vo, Lisbon, 1771). Domingo dos Reis Quita wrote a drama, <i>Ignez de
+Castro</i>, a&nbsp;translation of which, by Benjamin Thompson, was
+published in 1800. There is also a play <i>Dona Ignez de Castro</i>, by
+Nicolas Luiz, which was Englished by John Adamson, whose version was
+printed at Newcastle, 1808.</p>
+
+<div class = "footnote">
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_agnes_1" id = "note_agnes_1" href =
+"#tag_agnes_1">1</a>
+Mr. Arundell Esdaile in his <i>Bibliography of Fiction</i> (<i>printed
+before 1740</i>) erroneously identifies this amusing little piece with
+Mrs. Behn’s <i>The Lover’s Watch</i>. It is, however, quite another
+thing, dealing with a pseudo-Turkish language of love.</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_agnes_2" id = "note_agnes_2" href =
+"#tag_agnes_2">2</a>
+i.e., Peter Bellon, Gent. Bellon was an assiduous hackney writer and
+translator of the day. He has also left one comedy, <i>The Mock
+Duellist; or, The French Valet</i> (4to, 1675).</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">213</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "agnes_main" id = "agnes_main">
+THE HISTORY OF</a><br>
+<i>AGNES de CASTRO</i>.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">Tho’</span> Love, all soft and flattering,
+promises nothing but Pleasures; yet its Consequences are often sad and
+fatal. It is not enough to be in love, to be happy; since Fortune, who
+is capricious, and takes delight to trouble the Repose of the most
+elevated and virtuous, has very little respect for passionate and tender
+Hearts, when she designs to produce strange Adventures.</p>
+
+<p>Many Examples of past Ages render this Maxim certain; but the Reign
+of <i>Don Alphonso</i> the IVth, King of <i>Portugal</i>, furnishes us
+with one, the most extraordinary that History can produce.</p>
+
+<p>He was the Son of that <i>Don Denis</i>, who was so successful in all
+his Undertakings, that it was said of him, that he was capable of
+performing whatever he design’d, (and of <i>Isabella</i>,
+a&nbsp;Princess of eminent Virtue) who when he came to inherit a
+flourishing and tranquil State, endeavour’d to establish Peace and
+Plenty in abundance in his Kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>And to advance this his Design, he agreed on a Marriage between his
+Son <i>Don Pedro</i> (then about eight Years of Age) and <i>Bianca</i>,
+Daughter of <i>Don Pedro</i>, King of <i>Castile</i>; and whom the young
+Prince married when he arriv’d to his sixteenth Year.</p>
+
+<p><i>Bianca</i> brought nothing to <i>Coimbra</i> but Infirmities and
+very few Charms. <i>Don Pedro</i>, who was full of Sweetness and
+Generosity, lived nevertheless very well with her; but those Distempers
+of the Princess degenerating into the Palsy, she made it her request to
+retire, and at her Intercession the Pope broke the Marriage, and the
+melancholy
+<span class = "pagenum">214</span>
+Princess conceal’d her Languishment in a solitary Retreat: And <i>Don
+Pedro</i>, for whom they had provided another Match, married
+<i>Constantia Manuel</i>, Daughter of <i>Don John Manuel</i>,
+a&nbsp;Prince of the Blood of <i>Castile</i>, and famous for the Enmity
+he had to his King.</p>
+
+<p><i>Constantia</i> was promised to the King of <i>Castile</i>; but the
+King not keeping his word, they made no Difficulty of bestowing her on a
+young Prince, who was one Day to reign over a number of fine Provinces.
+He was but five and twenty years of Age, and the Man of all <i>Spain</i>
+that had the best Fashion and Grace: and with the most advantageous
+Qualities of the Body he possest those of the Soul, and shewed himself
+worthy in all things of the Crown that was destin’d for him.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess <i>Constantia</i> had Beauty, Wit, and Generosity, in as
+great a measure as ’twas possible for a Woman to be possest with; her
+Merit alone ought to have attach’d <i>Don Pedro</i>, eternally to her;
+and certainly he had for her an Esteem, mix’d with so great a Respect,
+as might very well pass for Love with those that were not of a nice and
+curious Observation: but alas! his real Care was reserved for another
+Beauty.</p>
+
+<p><i>Constantia</i> brought into the World, the first Year after her
+Marriage, a&nbsp;Son, who was called <i>Don Louis</i>: but it scarce saw
+the Light, and dy’d almost as soon as born. The loss of this little
+Prince sensibly touched her, but the Coldness she observ’d in the Prince
+her Husband, went yet nearer her Heart; for she had given her self
+absolutely up to her Duty, and had made her Tenderness for him her only
+Concern: But puissant Glory, which ty’d her so entirely to the Interest
+of the Prince of <i>Portugal</i>, open’d her Eyes upon his Actions,
+where she observ’d nothing in his Caresses and Civilities that was
+natural, or could satisfy her delicate Heart.</p>
+
+<p>At first she fancy’d her self deceiv’d, but time having confirmed her
+in what she fear’d, she sighed in secret;
+<span class = "pagenum">215</span>
+yet had that Consideration for the Prince, as not to let him see her
+Disorder: and which nevertheless she could not conceal from <i>Agnes de
+Castro</i>, who lived with her, rather as a Companion, than a Maid of
+Honour, and whom her Friendship made her infinitely distinguish from the
+rest.</p>
+
+<p>This Maid, so dear to the Princess, very well merited the Preference
+her Mistress gave her; she was beautiful to excess, wise, discreet,
+witty, and had more Tenderness for <i>Constantia</i> than she had for
+her self, having quitted her Family, which was illustrious, to give her
+self wholly to the Service of the Princess, and to follow her into
+<i>Portugal</i>. It was into the Bosom of this Maid, that the Princess
+unladed her first Moans; and the charming <i>Agnes</i> forgot nothing
+that might give ease to her afflicted Heart.</p>
+
+<p>Nor was <i>Constantia</i> the only Person who complained of <i>Don
+Pedro</i>: Before his Divorce from <i>Bianca</i>, he had expressed some
+Care and Tenderness for <i>Elvira Gonzales</i>, Sister to Don <i>Alvaro
+Gonzales</i>, Favourite to the King of <i>Portugal</i>; and this
+Amusement in the young Years of the Prince, had made a deep Impression
+on <i>Elvira</i>, who flatter’d her Ambition with the Infirmities of
+<i>Bianca</i>. She saw, with a secret Rage, <i>Constantia</i> take her
+place, who was possest with such Charms, that quite divested her of all
+Hopes.</p>
+
+<p>Her Jealousy left her not idle, she examined all the Actions of the
+Prince, and easily discover’d the little Regard he had for the Princess;
+but this brought him not back to her. And it was upon very good grounds
+that she suspected him to be in love with some other Person, and
+possessed with a new Passion; and which she promised herself, she would
+destroy as soon as she could find it out. She had a Spirit altogether
+proper for bold and hazardous Enterprizes; and the Credit of her Brother
+gave her so much Vanity, as all the Indifference of the Prince was not
+capable of humbling.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince languished, and concealed the Cause with so much Care,
+that ’twas impossible for any to find it out.
+<span class = "pagenum">216</span>
+No publick Pleasures were agreeable to him, and all Conversations were
+tedious; and it was Solitude alone that was able to give him any
+ease.</p>
+
+<p>This Change surprized all the World. The King, who loved his Son very
+tenderly, earnestly pressed him to know the Reason of his Melancholy;
+but the Prince made no answer, but only this, That it was the effect of
+his Temper.</p>
+
+<p>But Time ran on, and the Princess was brought to bed of a second Son,
+who liv’d, and was called <i>Fernando</i>. <i>Don Pedro</i> forc’d
+himself a little to take part in the publick Joy, so that they believ’d
+his Humour was changing; but this Appearance of a Calm endur’d not long,
+and he fell back again into his black Melancholy.</p>
+
+<p>The artful <i>Elvira</i> was incessantly agitated in searching out
+the Knowledge of this Secret. Chance wrought for her; and, as she was
+walking, full of Indignation and Anger, in the Garden of the Palace of
+<i>Coimbra</i>, she found the Prince of <i>Portugal</i> sleeping in an
+obscure Grotto.</p>
+
+<p>Her Fury could not contain it self at the sight of this loved Object,
+she roll’d her Eyes upon him, and perceived in spite of Sleep, that some
+Tears escaped his Eyes; the Flame which burnt yet in her Heart, soon
+grew soft and tender there: But oh! she heard him sigh, and after that
+utter these words, <i>Yes, Divine <em>Agnes</em>, I will sooner die than
+let you know it: <em>Constantia</em> shall have nothing to reproach me
+with.</i> <i>Elvira</i> was enraged at this Discourse, which represented
+to her immediately, the same moment, <i>Agnes de Castro</i> with all her
+Charms; and not at all doubting, but it was she who possest the Heart of
+<i>Don Pedro</i>, she found in her Soul more Hatred for this fair Rival,
+than Tenderness for him.</p>
+
+<p>The Grotto was not a fit Place to make Reflections in, or to form
+Designs. Perhaps her first Transports would have made her waken him, if
+<ins class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘see’">she</ins> had not
+perceived a Paper lying under his Hand, which she softly seiz’d on; and
+that she might not be surprized in the reading it, she went out of the
+Garden with as much haste as confusion.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">217</span>
+<p>When she was retired to her Apartment, she open’d the Paper,
+trembling, and found in it these Verses, writ by the Hand of <i>Don
+Pedro</i>; and which, in appearance, he had newly then compos’d.</p>
+
+<div class = "verse ital">
+<p>In vain, Oh! Sacred Honour, you debate</p>
+<p class = "indent">The mighty Business in my Heart:</p>
+<p>Love! Charming Love! rules all my Fate;</p>
+<p class = "indent">Interest and Glory claim no part.</p>
+<p>The God, sure of his Victory, triumphs there,</p>
+<p>And will have nothing in his Empire share.</p>
+
+<p class = "stanza">
+In vain, Oh! Sacred Duty, you oppose;</p>
+<p class = "indent">In vain, your Nuptial Tye you plead:</p>
+<p>Those forc’d Devoirs LOVE overthrows,</p>
+<p class = "indent">And breaks the Vows he never made.</p>
+<p>Fixing his fatal Arrows every where,</p>
+<p>I burn and languish in a soft Despair.</p>
+
+<p class = "stanza">
+Fair Princess, you to whom my Faith is due;</p>
+<p class = "indent">Pardon the Destiny that drags me on:</p>
+<p>’Tis not my fault my Heart’s untrue,</p>
+<p class = "indent">I am compell’d to be undone.</p>
+<p>My Life is yours, I gave it with my Hand,</p>
+<p>But my Fidelity I can’t command.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Elvira</i> did not only know the Writing of <i>Don Pedro</i>, but
+she knew also that he could write Verses. And seeing the sad Part which
+<i>Constantia</i> had in these which were now fallen into her hands, she
+made no scruple of resolving to let the Princess see ’em: but that she
+might not be suspected, she took care not to appear in this Business her
+self; and since it was not enough for <i>Constantia</i> to know that the
+Prince did not love her, but that she must know also that he was a Slave
+to <i>Agnes de Castro</i>, <i>Elvira</i> caused these few Verses to be
+written in an unknown Hand, under those writ by the Prince.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">218</span>
+
+<div class = "verse ital">
+<p>Sleep betrayed th’ unhappy Lover,</p>
+<p class = "indent">While Tears were streaming from his Eyes;</p>
+<p>His heedless Tongue without disguise,</p>
+<p class = "indent">The Secret did discover:</p>
+<p>The Language of his Heart declare,</p>
+<p>That <em>Agnes’</em> Image triumphs there.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Elvira</i> regarded neither Exactness nor Grace in these Lines:
+And if they had but the effect she design’d, she wished no more.</p>
+
+<p>Her Impatience could not wait till the next day to expose them: she
+therefore went immediately to the Lodgings of the Princess, who was then
+walking in the Garden of the Palace; and passing without resistance,
+even to her Cabinet, she put the Paper into a Book, in which the
+Princess used to read, and went out again unseen, and satisfy’d with her
+good Fortune.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as <i>Constantia</i> was return’d, she enter’d into her
+Cabinet, and saw the Book open, and the Verses lying in it, which were
+to cost her so dear: She soon knew the Hand of the Prince which was so
+familiar to her; and besides the Information of what she had always
+fear’d, she understood it was <i>Agnes de Castro</i> (whose Friendship
+alone was able to comfort her in her Misfortunes) who was the fatal
+Cause of it: she read over the Paper an hundred times, desiring to give
+her Eyes and Reason the Lye; but finding but too plainly she was not
+deceiv’d, she found her Soul possest with more Grief than Anger: when
+she consider’d, as much in love as the Prince was, he had kept his
+Torment secret. After having made her moan, without condemning him, the
+Tenderness she had for him, made her shed a Torrent of Tears, and
+inspir’d her with a Resolution of concealing her Resentment.</p>
+
+<p>She would certainly have done it by a Virtue extraordinary, if the
+Prince, who missing his Verses when he waked, and fearing they might
+fall into indiscreet Hands, had not
+<span class = "pagenum">219</span>
+enter’d the Palace, all troubled with his Loss; and hastily going into
+<i>Constantia’s</i> Apartment, saw her fair Eyes all wet with Tears, and
+at the same instant cast his own on the unhappy Verses that had escaped
+from his Soul, and now lay before the Princess.</p>
+
+<p>He immediately turned pale at this sight, and appear’d so mov’d, that
+the generous Princess felt more Pain than he did: ‘Madam, <i>said
+he</i>, (infinitely alarm’d) from whom had you that Paper? It cannot
+come but from the Hand of some Person, <i>answer’d</i> Constantia, who
+is an Enemy both to your Repose and mine. It is the Work, Sir, of your
+own Hand; and doubtless the Sentiment of your Heart. But be not
+surprized, and do not fear; for if my Tenderness should make it pass for
+a Crime in you, the same Tenderness which nothing is able to alter,
+shall hinder me from complaining.’</p>
+
+<p>The Moderation and Calmness of <i>Constantia</i>, served only to
+render the Prince more asham’d and confus’d. <i>How generous are you,
+Madam</i>, (pursu’d&nbsp;he) <i>and how unfortunate am I!</i> Some Tears
+accompany’d his Words, and the Princess, who lov’d him with extreme
+Ardour, was so sensibly touch’d, that it was a good while before she
+could utter a word. <i>Constantia</i> then broke silence, and shewing
+him what <i>Elvira</i> had caus’d to be written: <i>You are betray’d,
+Sir</i>, (added she) <i>you have been heard speak, and your Secret is
+known.</i> It was at this very moment that all the Forces of the Prince
+abandon’d him; and his Condition was really worthy Compassion: He could
+not pardon himself the involuntary Crime he had committed, in exposing
+of the lovely and the innocent <i>Agnes</i>. And tho’ he was convinced
+of the Virtue and Goodness of <i>Constantia</i>, the Apprehensions that
+he had, that this modest and prudent Maid might suffer by his Conduct,
+carry’d him beyond all Consideration.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess, who heedfully survey’d him, saw so many Marks of
+Despair in his Face and Eyes, that she was afraid of the Consequences;
+and holding out her Hand, in a very
+<span class = "pagenum">220</span>
+obliging manner to him, she said, ‘I&nbsp;promise you, Sir, I&nbsp;will
+never more complain of you, and that <i>Agnes</i> shall always be very
+dear to me; you shall never hear me make you any Reproaches: And since I
+cannot possess your Heart, I&nbsp;will content myself with endeavouring
+to render myself worthy of it.’ <i>Don Pedro</i>, more confus’d and
+dejected than before he had been, bent one of his Knees at the feet of
+<i>Constantia</i>, and with respect kiss’d that fair kind Hand she had
+given him, and perhaps forgot <i>Agnes</i> for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>But Love soon put a stop to all the little Advances of <i>Hymen</i>;
+the fatal Star that presided over the Destiny of <i>Don Pedro</i> had
+not yet vented its Malignity; and one moment’s sight of <i>Agnes</i>
+gave new Force to his Passion.</p>
+
+<p>The Wishes and Desires of this charming Maid had no part in this
+Victory; her Eyes were just, tho’ penetrating, and they searched not in
+those of the Prince, what they had a desire to discover to her.</p>
+
+<p>As she was never far from <i>Constantia</i>, <i>Don Pedro</i> was no
+sooner gone out of the Closet, but <i>Agnes</i> enter’d; and finding the
+Princess all pale and languishing in her Chair, she doubted not but
+there was some sufficient Cause for her Affliction: she put herself in
+the same Posture the Prince had been in before, and expressing an
+Inquietude, full of Concern; ‘Madam, <i>said she</i>, by all your
+Goodness, conceal not from me the Cause of your Trouble. Alas,
+<i>Agnes</i>, <i>reply’d the Princess</i>, what would you know? And what
+should I tell you? The Prince, the Prince, my dearest Maid, is in love;
+the Hand that he gave me, was not a Present of his Heart; and for the
+Advantage of this Alliance, I&nbsp;must become the Victim of
+it&mdash;What! the Prince in Love! (<i>reply’d <em>Agnes</em>, with an
+Astonishment mix’d with Indignation</i>) What Beauty can dispute the
+Empire over a Heart so much your due? Alas, Madam, all the Respect I owe
+him, cannot hinder me from murmuring against him. Accuse him of nothing,
+(<i>interrupted <em>Constantia</em></i>) he does what he can; and I am
+more oblig’d
+<span class = "pagenum">221</span>
+to him for desiring to be faithful, than if I possest his real
+Tenderness. It is not enough to fight, but to overcome; and the Prince
+does more in the Condition wherein he is, than I ought reasonably to
+hope for: In fine, he is my Husband, and an agreeable one; to whom
+nothing is wanting, but what I cannot inspire; that is, a&nbsp;Passion
+which would have made me but too happy. Ah! Madam, (<i>cry’d out
+<em>Agnes</em>, transported with her Tenderness for the Princess</i>) he
+is a blind and stupid Prince, who knows not the precious Advantages he
+possesses. He must surely know something, (<i>reply’d the Princess
+modestly.</i>) But, Madam, (<i>reply’d <em>Agnes</em></i>) Is there any
+thing, not only in <i>Portugal</i>, but in all <i>Spain</i>, that can
+compare with you? And without considering the charming <ins class =
+"correction" title = "text reads ‘Qualites’">Qualities</ins> of your
+Person, can we enough admire those of your Soul? My dear <i>Agnes</i>,
+(<i>interrupted <em>Constantia</em>, sighing</i>) she who robs me of my
+Husband’s Heart, has but too many Charms to plead his Excuse; since it
+is thou, Child, whom Fortune makes use of, to give me the killing Blow.
+Yes, <i>Agnes</i>, the Prince loves thee; and the Merit I know thou art
+possest of, puts bounds to my Complaints, without suffering me to have
+the least Resentment.’</p>
+
+<p>The delicate <i>Agnes</i> little expected to hear what the Princess
+told her: Thunder would have less surpriz’d, and less oppres’d her. She
+remain’d a long time without speaking; but at last, fixing her Looks all
+frightful on <i>Constantia</i>, ‘What say you, Madam? (<i>cry’d she</i>)
+And what Thoughts have you of me? What, that I should betray you? And
+coming hither only full of Ardor to be the Repose of your Life, do I
+bring a fatal Poison to afflict it? What Detestation must I have for the
+Beauty they find in me, without aspiring to make it appear? And how
+ought I to curse the unfortunate Day, on which I first saw the
+Prince?&mdash;But, Madam, it cannot be me whom Heaven has chosen to
+torment you, and to destroy all your Tranquillity: No, it cannot be so
+much my Enemy, to put me to so great
+<span class = "pagenum">222</span>
+a Tryal. And if I were that odious Person, there is no Punishment, to
+which I would not condemn my self. It is <i>Elvira</i>, Madam, the
+Prince loves, and loved before his Marriage with you, and also before
+his Divorce from <i>Bianca</i>; and somebody has made an indiscreet
+Report to you of this Intrigue of his Youth: But, Madam, what was in the
+time of <i>Bianca</i>, is nothing to you. It is certain that <i>Don
+Pedro</i> loves you, (<i>answer’d the Princess</i>) and I have Vanity
+enough to believe, that, none besides your self could have disputed his
+Heart with me: But the Secret is discover’d, and <i>Don Pedro</i> has
+not disown’d it. What, (<i>interrupted <em>Agnes</em>, more surpriz’d
+than ever</i>) is it then from himself you have learned his Weakness?’
+The Princess then shew’d her the Verses, and there was never any Despair
+like to hers.</p>
+
+<p>While they were both thus sadly employ’d, both sighing, and both
+weeping, the impatient <i>Elvira</i>, who was willing to learn the
+Effect of her Malice, returned to the Apartment of the Princess, where
+she freely enter’d; even to the Cabinet where these unhappy Persons
+were: who all afflicted and troubled as they were, blushed at her
+approach, whose Company they did not desire: She had the Pleasure to see
+<i>Constantia</i> hide from her the Paper which had been the Cause of
+all their Trouble, and which the Princess had never seen, but for her
+Spite and Revenge; and to observe also in the Eyes of the Princess, and
+those of <i>Agnes</i>, an immoderate Grief: She staid in the Cabinet as
+long as it was necessary to be assur’d, that she had succeeded in her
+Design; but the Princess, who did not desire such a Witness of the
+Disorder in which she then was, pray’d to be left alone. <i>Elvira</i>
+then went out of the Cabinet, and <i>Agnes de Castro</i> withdrew at the
+same time.</p>
+
+<p>It was in her own Chamber, that <i>Agnes</i> examining more freely
+this Adventure, found it as cruel as Death. She loved <i>Constantia</i>
+sincerely, and had not till then any thing more than an Esteem, mixt
+with Admiration, for the
+<span class = "pagenum">223</span>
+Prince of <i>Portugal</i>; which indeed, none could refuse to so many
+fine Qualities. And looking on her self as the most unfortunate of her
+Sex, as being the Cause of all the Sufferings of the Princess, to whom
+she was obliged for the greatest Bounties, she spent the whole Night in
+Tears and Complaints, sufficient to have reveng’d <i>Constantia</i> for
+all the Griefs she made her suffer.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince, on his side, was in no great Tranquillity; the Generosity
+of his Princess increas’d his Remorse, without diminishing his Love: he
+fear’d, and with reason, that those who were the occasion of
+<i>Constantia’s</i> seeing those Verses, should discover his Passion to
+the King, from whom he hoped for no Indulgence: and he would most
+willingly have given his Life, to have been free from this
+Extremity.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time the afflicted Princess languished in a most
+deplorable Sadness; she found nothing in those who were the Cause of her
+Misfortunes, but things fitter to move her Tenderness than her Anger: It
+was in vain that Jealousy strove to combat the Inclination she had to
+love her fair Rival; nor was there any occasion of making the Prince
+less dear to her: and she felt neither Hatred, nor so much as
+Indifference for innocent <i>Agnes</i>.</p>
+
+<p>While these three disconsolate Persons abandon’d themselves to their
+Melancholy, <i>Elvira</i>, not to leave her Vengeance imperfect, study’d
+in what manner she might bring it to the height of its Effects. Her
+Brother, on whom she depended, shew’d her a great deal of Friendship,
+and judging rightly that the Love of <i>Don Pedro</i> to <i>Agnes de
+Castro</i> would not be approved by the King, she acquainted <i>Don
+Alvaro</i> her Brother with it, who was not ignorant of the Passion the
+Prince had once protested to have for his Sister. He found himself very
+much interested in this News, from a second Passion he had for
+<i>Agnes</i>; which the Business of his Fortune had hitherto hindred him
+from discovering: and he expected a great many Favours from
+<span class = "pagenum">224</span>
+the King, that might render the Effort of his Heart the more
+considerable.</p>
+
+<p>He hid not from his Sister this one thing, which he found difficult
+to conceal; so that she was now possest with a double Grief, to find
+<i>Agnes</i> Sovereign of all the Hearts to which she had a
+pretension.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i> was one of those ambitious Men, that are fierce
+without Moderation, and proud without Generosity; of a melancholy,
+cloudy Humour, of a cruel Inclination, and to effect his Ends, found
+nothing difficult or unlawful. Naturally he lov’d not the Prince, who,
+on all accounts, ought to have held the first Rank in the Heart of the
+King, which should have set bounds to the Favour of <i>Don Alvaro</i>;
+who when he knew the Prince was his Rival, his Jealousy increas’d his
+Hate of him: and he conjured <i>Elvira</i> to employ all her Care, to
+oppose an Engagement that could not but be destructive to them both; she
+promised him, and he not very well satisfy’d, rely’d on her Address.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i>, who had too lively a Representation within
+himself, of the Beauties and Grace of the Prince of <i>Portugal</i>,
+thought of nothing, but how to combat his Merits, he himself not being
+handsome, or well made: His Fashion was as disagreeable as his Humour,
+and <i>Don Pedro</i> had all the Advantages that one Man may possibly
+have over another. In fine, all that <i>Don Alvaro</i> wanted, adorn’d
+the Prince: but as he was the Husband of <i>Constantia</i>, and depended
+upon an absolute Father, and that <i>Don Alvaro</i> was free, and Master
+of a good Fortune, he thought himself more assur’d of <i>Agnes</i>, and
+fixed his Hopes on that Thought.</p>
+
+<p>He knew very well, that the Passion of <i>Don Pedro</i> could not but
+inspire a violent Anger in the Soul of the King. Industrious in doing
+ill, his first Business was to carry this unwelcome News to him. After
+he had given time to his Grief, and had compos’d himself to his Desire,
+he then
+<span class = "pagenum">225</span>
+besought the King to interest himself in his amorous Affair, and to be
+the Protector of his Person.</p>
+
+<p>Tho’ <i>Don Alvaro</i> had no other Merit to recommend him to the
+King, than a continual and blind Obedience to all his Commands; yet he
+had favour’d him with several Testimonies of his vast Bounty: and
+considering the Height to which the King’s Liberality had rais’d him,
+there were few Ladies that would have refused his Alliance. The King
+assured him of the Continuation of his Friendship and Favour, and
+promised him, if he had any Authority, he would give him the charming
+<i>Agnes</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i>, perfectly skilful in managing his Master, answer’d
+the King’s last Bounties with a profound Submission. He had yet never
+told <i>Agnes</i> what he felt for her; but he thought now he might make
+a publick Declaration of it, and sought all means to do&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>The Gallantry which <i>Coimbra</i> seem’d to have forgotten, began
+now to be awakened. The King to please <i>Don Alvaro</i>, under pretence
+of diverting <i>Constantia</i>, order’d some publick Sports, and
+commanded that every thing should be magnificent.</p>
+
+<p>Since the Adventure of the Verses, <i>Don Pedro</i> endeavour’d to
+lay a constraint on himself, and to appear less troubled; but in his
+heart he suffer’d always alike: and it was not but with great uneasiness
+he prepar’d himself for the Tournament. And since he could not appear
+with the Colours of <i>Agnes</i>, he took those of his Wife, without
+Device, or any great Magnificence.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Pedro</i> adorn’d himself with the Liveries of <i>Agnes de
+Castro</i>; and this fair Maid, who had yet found no Consolation from
+what the Princess had told her, had this new cause of being
+displeas’d.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Pedro</i> appear’d in the List with an admirable Grace; and
+<i>Don Alvaro</i>, who looked on this Day as his own, appear’d there all
+shining with Gold, mix’d with Stones of Blue, which were the Colours of
+<i>Agnes</i>; and
+<span class = "pagenum">226</span>
+there were embroider’d all over his Equipage, flaming Hearts of Gold on
+blue Velvet, and Nets for the Snares of Love, with abundance of double
+<i>A’s</i>; his Device was a Love coming out of a Cloud, with these
+Verses written underneath:</p>
+
+<div class = "verse ital">
+<p>Love from a Cloud breaks like the God of Day,</p>
+<p>And to the World his Glories does display;</p>
+<p>To gaze on charming Eyes, and make ’em know,</p>
+<p>What to soft Hearts, and to his Power they owe.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The Pride of <i>Don Alvaro</i> was soon humbled at the feet of the
+Prince of <i>Portugal</i>, who threw him against the Ground, with twenty
+others, and carry’d alone the Glory of the Day. There was in the Evening
+a noble Assembly at <i>Constantia’s</i>, where <i>Agnes</i> would not
+have been, unless <ins class = "correction" title =
+"spelling unchanged">expresly</ins> commanded by the Princess. She appear’d there
+all negligent and careless in her Dress, but yet she appear’d all
+beautiful and charming. She saw, with disdain, her Name, and her
+Colours, worn by <i>Don Alvaro</i>, at a publick Triumph; and if her
+Heart was capable of any tender Motions, it was not for such a Man as he
+for whom her Delicacy destin’d them: She look’d on him with a Contempt,
+which did not hinder him from pressing so near, that there was a
+necessity for her to hear what he had to declare to her.</p>
+
+<p>She treated him not uncivilly, but her Coldness would have rebated
+the Courage of any but <i>Alvaro</i>. ‘Madam, said he, (when he could be
+heard of none but herself) I&nbsp;have hitherto concealed the Passion
+you have inspired me with, fearing it should displease you; but it has
+committed a Violence on my Respect; and I could no longer conceal it
+from you. I&nbsp;never reflected on your Actions (answer’d <i>Agnes</i>
+with all the Indifference of which she was capable) and if you think you
+offend me, you are in the wrong to make me perceive it. This Coldness is
+but an ill Omen
+<span class = "pagenum">227</span>
+for me (reply’d <i>Don Alvaro</i>) and if you have not found me out to
+be your Lover to-day, I&nbsp;fear you will never approve my Passion<ins
+class = "correction" title = "close quote missing">.’&nbsp;</ins></p>
+
+<p>‘Oh! what a time have you chosen to make it appear to me? (pursued
+<i>Agnes</i>.) Is it so great an Honour for me, that you must take such
+care to shew it to the World? And do you think that I am so desirous of
+Glory, that I must aspire to it by your Actions? If I must, you have
+very ill maintain’d it in the Tournament; and if it be that Vanity that
+you depend upon, you will make no great progress on a Soul that is not
+fond of Shame. If you were possest of all the Advantages, which the
+Prince has this day carried away, you yet ought to consider what you are
+going about; and it is not a Maid like me, who is touched with
+Enterprizes, without respect or permission.’</p>
+
+<p>The Favourite of the King was too proud to hear <i>Agnes</i>, without
+Indignation: but as he was willing to conceal it, and not offend her, he
+made not his Resentment appear; and considering the Observation she made
+on the Triumphs of <i>Don Pedro</i>, (which increased his Jealousies)
+‘If I have not overcome at the Tournament, reply’d he, I&nbsp;am not the
+less in love for being vanquish’d, nor less capable of Success on
+occasion.’</p>
+
+<p>They were interrupted here, but from that day, <i>Don Alvaro</i>, who
+had open’d the first Difficulties, kept no more his wonted Distance, but
+perpetually persecuted <i>Agnes</i>; yet, tho’ he were protected by the
+King, that inspir’d in her never the more Consideration for him. <i>Don
+Pedro</i> was always ignorant by what means the Verses he had lost in
+the Garden, fell into the hands of <i>Constantia</i>. As the Princess
+appeared to him indulgent, he was only concerned for <i>Agnes</i>; and
+the love of <i>Don Alvaro</i>, which was then so well known, increas’d
+the Pain: and had he been possess’d of the Authority, he would not have
+suffer’d her to have been expos’d to the Persecutions of so unworthy a
+Rival. He was also afraid of the King’s being advertised
+<span class = "pagenum">228</span>
+of his Passion, but he thought not at all of <i>Elvira</i>, nor
+apprehended any Malice from her Resentment.</p>
+
+<p>While she burnt with a Desire of destroying <i>Agnes</i>, against
+whom she vented all her Venom, she was never weary of making new Reports
+to her Brother, assuring him, that tho’ they could not prove that
+<i>Agnes</i> made any returns to the Tenderness of the Prince, yet that
+was the Cause of <i>Constantia’s</i> Grief: And, that if this Princess
+should die of it, <i>Don Pedro</i> might marry <i>Agnes</i>. In fine,
+she so incens’d the jealous <i>Don Alvaro’s</i> Jealousy, that he could
+not hinder himself from running immediately to the King, with the
+discovery of all he knew, and all he guest, and who, he had the pleasure
+to find, was infinitely inrag’d at the News. ‘My dear <i>Alvaro</i>,
+said the King, you shall instantly marry this dangerous Beauty: And let
+Possession assure your Repose and mine. If I have protected you on other
+Occasions, judge what a Service of so great an Importance for me, would
+make me undertake; and without any reserve, the Forces of this State are
+in your power, and almost any thing that I can give shall be assured
+you, so you render your self Master of the Destiny of <i>Agnes</i>.’</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i> pleas’d, and vain with his Master’s Bounty, made
+use of all the Authority he gave him: He passionately lov’d
+<i>Agnes</i>, and would not, on the sudden, make use of Violence; but
+resolv’d with himself to employ all possible Means to win her fairly;
+yet if that fail’d, to have recourse to force, if she continued always
+insensible.</p>
+
+<p>While <i>Agnes de Castro</i> (importun’d by his Assiduities,
+despairing at the Grief of <i>Constantia</i>, and perhaps made tender by
+those she had caus’d in the Prince of <i>Portugal</i>) took a Resolution
+worthy of her Virtue; yet, amiable as <i>Don Pedro</i> was, she found
+nothing in him, but his being Husband to <i>Constantia</i>, that was
+dear to her: And, far from encouraging the Power she had got over his
+Heart, she thought of nothing but of removing from <i>Coimbra</i>. The
+Passion of <i>Don Alvaro</i>, which she had no inclination
+<span class = "pagenum">229</span>
+to favour, served her as a Pretext; and press’d with the fear of
+causing, in the end, a&nbsp;cruel Divorce between the Prince and his
+Princess, she went to find <i>Constantia</i>, with a trouble, which all
+her Care was not able to hide from her.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess easily found it out; and their common Misfortunes having
+not chang’d their Friendship&mdash;‘What ails you, <i>Agnes</i>? (said
+the Princess to her, in a soft Tone, and with her ordinary Sweetness)
+And what new Misfortune causes that sadness in thy Looks? Madam (reply’d
+<i>Agnes</i>, shedding a Rivulet of Tears) the Obligations and Ties I
+have to you, put me upon a cruel Tryal; I&nbsp;had bounded the Felicity
+of my Life in hope of passing it near your Highness, yet I must carry to
+some other part of the World this unlucky Face of mine, which renders me
+nothing but ill Offices: And it is to obtain that Liberty, that I am
+come to throw my self at your feet; looking upon you as my
+Sovereign.’</p>
+
+<p><i>Constantia</i> was so surpriz’d and touch’d with the Proposition
+of <i>Agnes</i>, that she lost her Speech for some moments; Tears, which
+were sincere, express’d her first Sentiments: And after having shed
+abundance, to give a new mark of her Tenderness to the fair afflicted
+<i>Agnes</i>, she with a sad and melancholy Look, fix’d her Eyes upon
+her, and holding out her Hand to her, in a most obliging manner,
+sighing, cry’d&mdash;‘You will then, my dear <i>Agnes</i>, leave me; and
+expose me to the Griefs of seeing you no more? Alas, Madam, (interrupted
+this lovely Maid) hide from the unhappy <i>Agnes</i> a Bounty which does
+but increase her Misfortunes: It is not I, Madam, that would leave you;
+it is my Duty, and my Reason that orders my Fate. And those Days which I
+shall pass far from you, promise me nothing to oblige me to this Design,
+if I did not see my self absolutely forc’d to it. I&nbsp;am not ignorant
+of what passes at <i>Coimbra</i>; and I shall be an Accomplice of the
+Injustice there committed, if I should stay there any longer.&mdash;Ah,
+I&nbsp;know your Virtue, (cry’d <i>Constantia</i>) and you may remain
+<span class = "pagenum">230</span>
+here in all safety, while I am your Protectress; and let what will
+happen, I&nbsp;will accuse you of nothing. There’s no answering for
+what’s to come, (reply’d <i>Agnes</i>, sadly) and I shall be
+sufficiently guilty, if my Presence cause Sentiments, which cannot be
+innocent. Besides, Madam, the Importunities of <i>Don Alvaro</i> are
+insupportable to me; and tho’ I&nbsp;find nothing but Aversion to him,
+since the King protects his Insolence, and he’s in a condition of
+undertaking any thing, my Flight is absolutely necessary. But, Madam,
+tho’ he has nothing but what seems odious to me; I&nbsp;call Heaven to
+witness, that if I could cure the Prince by marrying <i>Don Alvaro</i>,
+I would not consider of it a moment; and finding in my Punishment the
+Consolation of sacrificing my self to my Princess, I&nbsp;would support
+it without murmuring. But if I were the Wife of <i>Don Alvaro</i>,
+<i>Don Pedro</i> would always look upon me with the same Eyes: So that I
+find nothing more reasonable for me, than to hide my self in some Corner
+of the World; where, tho’ I&nbsp;shall most certainly live without
+Pleasure, yet I shall preserve the Repose of my dearest Mistress. All
+the Reason you find in this Design, (answered the Princess) cannot
+oblige me to approve of your Absence: Will it restore me the Heart of
+<i>Don Pedro</i>? And will he not fly away with you? His Grief is mine,
+and my Life is ty’d to his; do not make him despair then, if you love
+me. I&nbsp;know you, I&nbsp;tell you so once more; and let your Power be
+ever so great over the Heart of the Prince, I&nbsp;will not suffer you
+to abandon&nbsp;us.’</p>
+
+<p>Tho’ <i>Agnes</i> thought she had perfectly known <i>Constantia</i>,
+yet she did not expect to find so intire a Virtue in her, which made her
+think her self more happy, and the Prince more criminal. ‘Oh, Wisdom!
+Oh, Bounty without Example! (cry’d she) Why is it, that the cruel
+Destinies do not give you all you deserve? You are the disposer of my
+Actions, (continued she in kissing the Hand of <i>Constantia</i>) I’ll
+do nothing but what you’ll have me: But consider,
+<span class = "pagenum">231</span>
+and weigh well the Reasons that ought to counsel you in the Measures you
+oblige me to take.’</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Pedro</i>, who had not seen the Princess all that day, came in
+then, and finding ’em both extremely troubled, with a fierce Impatience,
+demanded the Cause: ‘Sir, answered <i>Constantia</i>, <i>Agnes</i> too
+wise, and too scrupulous, fears the Effects of her Beauty, and will live
+no longer at <i>Coimbra</i>; and it was on this Subject, (which cannot
+be agreeable to&nbsp;me) that she ask’d my Advice.’ The Prince grew pale
+at this Discourse, and snatching the Words from her Mouth (with more
+concern than possest either of them) cry’d with a Voice very feeble,
+‘<i>Agnes</i> cannot fail if she follow your Counsel, Madam: and I leave
+you full liberty to give it her.’ He then immediately went out, and the
+Princess, whose Heart he perfectly possest, not being able to hide her
+Displeasure, said, ‘My dear <i>Agnes</i>, if my Satisfaction did not
+only depend on your Conversation, I&nbsp;should desire it of you, for
+<i>Don Pedro’s</i> sake; it is the only Advantage that his unfortunate
+Love can hope: And would not the World have reason to call me barbarous,
+if I contribute to deprive him of that? But the sight of me will prove a
+Poison to him&mdash;(reply’d <i>Agnes</i>) And what should I do, my
+Princess, if after the Reserve he has hitherto kept, his Mouth should
+add anything to the Torments I have already felt, by speaking to me of
+his Flame? You would hear him sure, without causing him to despair,
+(reply’d <i>Constantia</i>) and I should put this Obligation to the
+account of the rest you have done. Would you then have me expect those
+Events which I fear, Madam? (reply’d <i>Agnes</i>)
+Well&mdash;I&nbsp;will obey, but just Heaven (pursued she) if they prove
+fatal, do not punish an innocent Heart for it.’ Thus this <ins class =
+"correction" title = "text reads ‘Coversation’">Conversation</ins>
+ended. <i>Agnes</i> withdrew into her Chamber, but it was not to be more
+at ease.</p>
+
+<p>What <i>Don Pedro</i> had learn’d of the Design of <i>Agnes</i>,
+caus’d a cruel Agitation in his Soul; he wished he had never loved her,
+and desir’d a thousand times to die: But
+<span class = "pagenum">232</span>
+it was not for him to make Vows against a thing which Fate had design’d
+him; and whatever Resolutions he made, to bear the Absence of
+<i>Agnes</i>, his Tenderness had not force enough to consent
+to&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>After having, for a long time, combated with himself, he determined
+to do what was impossible for him to let <i>Agnes</i> do. His Courage
+reproach’d him with the Idleness, in which he past the most youthful and
+vigorous part of his Days: and making it appear to the King, that his
+Allies, and even the Prince <i>Don John Emanuel</i>, his Father-in-law,
+had concerns in the World which demanded his Presence on the Frontiers,
+he easily obtain’d Liberty to make this Journey, to which the Princess
+would put no Obstacle.</p>
+
+<p><i>Agnes</i> saw him part without any Concern, but it was not upon
+the account of any Aversion she had to him. <i>Don Alvaro</i> began then
+to make his Importunity an open Persecution; he forgot nothing that
+might touch the insensible <i>Agnes</i>, and made use, a&nbsp;long time,
+only of the Arms of Love: But seeing that this Submission and Respect
+was to no purpose, he form’d strange Designs.</p>
+
+<p>As the King had a deference for all his Counsels, it was not
+difficult to inspire him with what he had a mind to: He complain’d of
+the ungrateful <i>Agnes</i>, and forgot nothing that might make him
+perceive that she was not cruel to him on his account, but from the too
+much Sensibility she had for the Prince. The King, who was extreme angry
+at this, reiterated all the Promises he had made him.</p>
+
+<p>The King had not yet spoken to <i>Agnes</i> in favour of <i>Don
+Alvaro</i>; and not doubting but his Approbation would surmount all
+Obstacles, he took an occasion to entertain her with it: And removing
+some distance from those who might hear him, ‘I&nbsp;thought <i>Don
+Alvaro</i> had Merit enough (said he to her) to have obtained a little
+share in your Esteem; and I could not imagine there would have been any
+necessity of my solliciting it for him: I&nbsp;know you are
+<span class = "pagenum">233</span>
+very charming, but he has nothing that renders him unworthy of you; and
+when you shall reflect on the Choice my Friendship has made of him from
+among all the great Men of my Court, you will do him at the same time
+Justice. His Fortune is none of the meanest, since he has me for his
+Protector: He is nobly born, a&nbsp;Man of Honour and Courage: he adores
+you, and it seems to me that all these Reasons are sufficient to
+vanquish your Pride.’</p>
+
+<p>The Heart of <i>Agnes</i> was so little disposed to give it self to
+<i>Don Alvaro</i>, that all the King of <i>Portugal</i> had said had no
+effect on her in his favour. ‘If <i>Don Alvaro</i>, Sir, (answered she)
+were without Merit, he possesses Advantages enough in the Bounty your
+Majesty is pleased to honour him with, to make him Master of all things,
+it is not that I find any Defect in him that I answer not his Desires:
+But, Sir, by what obstinate Power would you that I should love, if
+Heaven has not given me a Soul that is tender? And why should you
+pretend that I should submit to him, when nothing is dearer to me than
+my liberty? You are not so free, nor so insensible, as you say,
+(answer’d the King, blushing with Anger;) and if your Heart were exempt
+from all sorts of Affection, he might expect a more reasonable Return
+than what he finds. But imprudent Maid, conducted by an ill Fate, (added
+he in fury) what Pretensions have you to <i>Don Pedro</i>? Hitherto I
+have hid the Chagrin, which his Weakness, and yours give me; but it was
+not the less violent for being hid. And since you oblige me to break
+out, I&nbsp;must tell you, that if my Son were not already married to
+<i>Constantia</i>, he should never be your Husband; renounce then those
+vain Ideas, which will cure him, and justify you.’</p>
+
+<p>The courageous <i>Agnes</i> was scarce Mistress of the first
+Transports, at a Discourse so full of Contempt; but calling her Virtue
+to the aid of her Anger, she recover’d herself by the assistance of
+Reason: And considering the Outrage she receiv’d, not as coming from a
+great King, but a Man
+<span class = "pagenum">234</span>
+blinded and possest by <i>Don Alvaro</i>, she thought him not worthy of
+her Resentment; her fair Eyes animated themselves with so shining a
+vivacity, they answer’d for the purity of her Sentiments; and fixing
+them steadfastly on the King, ‘If the Prince <i>Don Pedro</i> have
+Weaknesses, (reply’d she, with an Air disdainful) he never communicated
+’em to me; and I am certain, I&nbsp;never contributed wilfully to ’em:
+But to let you see how little I regard your Defiance, and to put my
+Glory in safety, I&nbsp;will live far from you, and all that belongs to
+you: Yes, Sir, I&nbsp;will quit <i>Coimbra</i> with pleasure; and for
+this Man, who is so dear to you, (answer’d she with a noble Pride and
+Fierceness, of which the King felt all the force) for this Favourite, so
+worthy to possess the most tender Affections of a great Prince,
+I&nbsp;assure you, that into whatever part of the World Fortune conducts
+me, I&nbsp;will not carry away the least Remembrance of him.’ At these
+words she made a profound Reverence, and made such haste from his
+Presence, that he could not oppose her going if he would.</p>
+
+<p>The King was now more strongly convinc’d than ever, that she favour’d
+the Passion of <i>Don Pedro</i>, and immediately went to
+<i>Constantia</i>, to inspire her with the same Thought; but she was not
+capable of receiving such Impressions, and following her own natural
+Inclinations, she generously defended the Virtue of his Actions. The
+King, angry to see her so well intentioned to her Rival, whom he would
+have had her hated, reproached her with the sweetness of her Temper, and
+went thence to mix his Anger with <i>Don Alvaro’s</i> Rage, who was
+totally confounded when he saw the Negotiation of his Master had taken
+no effect. The haughty Maid braves me then, Sir, said he to the King,
+and despises the Honour which your Bounty offered her! Why cannot I
+resist so fatal a Passion? But I must love her, in spite of my self; and
+if this Flame consume me, I&nbsp;can find no way to extinguish it. What
+can I further do for you, replied the King? Alas, Sir, answered <i>Don
+<span class = "pagenum">235</span>
+Alvaro</i>, I must do by force, what I cannot otherwise hope from the
+proud and cruel <i>Agnes</i>. Well then, added the King, since it is not
+fit for me to authorize publickly a Violence in the midst of my Kingdom,
+chuse those of my Subjects whom you think most capable of serving you,
+and take away by force the Beauty that charms you; and if she do not
+yield to your Love, put that Power you are Master of in execution, to
+oblige her to marry you.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i>, ravish’d with this Proposition, which at the same
+time flatter’d both his Love and his Anger, cast himself at the Feet of
+the King, and renewed his Acknowledgments by fresh Protestations, and
+thought of nothing but employing his unjust Authority against
+<i>Agnes</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Pedro</i> had been about three Months absent, when
+<i>Alvaro</i> undertook what the King counselled him to; tho’ the
+Moderation was known to him, yet he feared his Presence, and would not
+attend the return of a Rival, with whom he would avoid all Disputes.</p>
+
+<p>One Night, when the said <i>Agnes</i>, full of her ordinary
+Inquietudes, in vain expected the God of Sleep, she heard a Noise, and
+after saw some Men unknown enter her Chamber, whose Measures being well
+consulted, they carried her out of the Palace, and putting her in a
+close Coach, forced her out of <i>Coimbra</i>, without being hinder’d by
+any Obstacle. She knew not of whom to complain, nor whom to suspect:
+<i>Don Alvaro</i> seem’d too puissant to seek his Satisfaction this way;
+and she accus’d not the Prince of this attempt, of whom she had so
+favourable an Opinion: whatever she could think or say, she could not
+hinder her ill Fortune: They hurried her on with diligence, and before
+it was Day, were a considerable way off from the Town.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as Day began to break, she surveyed those that encompassed
+her, without so much as knowing one of them; and seeing that her Cries
+and Prayers were all in vain with these deaf Ravishers, she satisfied
+her self with
+<span class = "pagenum">236</span>
+imploring the Protection of Heaven, and abandon’d herself to its
+Conduct.</p>
+
+<p>While she sat thus overwhelmed with Grief, uncertain of her Destiny,
+she saw a Body of Horse advance towards the Troop which conducted her:
+the Ravishers did not shun them, thinking it to be <i>Don Alvaro</i>:
+but when he approached more near, they found it was the Prince of
+<i>Portugal</i> who was at the head of ’em, and who, without foreseeing
+the occasion that would offer it self of serving <i>Agnes</i>, was
+returning to <i>Coimbra</i> full of her Idea, after having performed
+what he ought in this Expedition.</p>
+
+<p><i>Agnes</i>, who did not expect him, changed now her Opinion, and
+thought that it was the Prince that had caused her to be stolen away.
+‘Oh, Sir! (said she to him, having still the same Thought) is it you
+that have torn me from the Princess? And could so cruel a Blow come from
+a Hand that is so dear to her? What will you do with an unfortunate
+Creature, who desires nothing but Death? And why will you obscure the
+Glory of your Life, by an Artifice unworthy of you?’ This Language
+astonish’d the Prince no less than the sight of <i>Agnes</i> had done;
+he found by what she had said, that she was taken away by force; and
+immediately passing to the height of Rage, he made her understand by one
+only Look, that he was not the base Author of her trouble. ‘I&nbsp;tear
+you from <i>Constantia</i>, whose only Pleasure you are! replied he:
+What Opinion have you of <i>Don Pedro</i>? No, Madam, tho’ you see me
+here, I&nbsp;am altogether innocent of the Violence that has been done
+you; and there is nothing I will refuse to hinder it.’ He then turned
+himself to behold the Ravishers, but his Presence had already scatter’d
+’em, he order’d some of his Men to pursue ’em, and to seize some of ’em,
+that he might know what Authority it was that set ’em at work.</p>
+
+<p>During this, <i>Agnes</i> was no less confus’d than before; she
+admir’d the Conduct of her Destiny, that brought the
+<span class = "pagenum">237</span>
+Prince at a time when he was so necessary to her. Her Inclinations to do
+him justice, soon repair’d the Offence her Suspicions had caus’d; she
+was glad to have escap’d a Misfortune, which appear’d certain to her:
+but this was not a sincere Joy, when she consider’d that her Lover was
+her Deliverer, and a Lover worthy of all her Acknowledgments, but who
+owed his Heart to the most amiable Princess in the World.</p>
+
+<p>While the Prince’s Men were pursuing the Ravishers of <i>Agnes</i>,
+he was left almost alone with her; and tho’ he had always resolv’d to
+shun being so, yet his Constancy was not proof against so fair an
+Occasion: ‘Madam, said he to her, is it possible that Men born amongst
+those that obey us, should be capable of offending you? I&nbsp;never
+thought my self destin’d to revenge such an Offence; but since Heaven
+has permitted you to receive it, I&nbsp;will either perish or make them
+repent it.’ ‘Sir, replied <i>Agnes</i>, more concern’d at this Discourse
+than at the Enterprize of <i>Don Alvaro</i>, those who are wanting in
+their respect to the Princess and you, are not obliged to have any for
+me. I&nbsp;do not in the least doubt that <i>Don Alvaro</i> was the
+undertaker of this Enterprize; and I judged what I ought to fear from
+him, by what his Importunities have already made me suffer. He is sure
+of the King’s Protection, and he will make him an Accomplice in his
+Crime: but, Sir, Heaven conducted you hither happily for me, and I am
+indebted to you for the liberty I have of serving the Princess yet
+longer.’ <ins class = "correction" title =
+"open quote missing">‘You</ins> will do for <i>Constantia</i>, replied
+the Prince, what ’tis impossible not to do for you; your Goodness
+attaches you to her, and my Destiny engages me to you for ever.’</p>
+
+<p>The modest <i>Agnes</i>, who fear’d this Discourse as much as the
+Misfortune she had newly shunned, answer’d nothing but by down-cast
+Eyes; and the Prince, who knew the trouble she was in, left her to go to
+speak to his Men, who brought back one of those that belong’d to <i>Don
+Alvaro</i>,
+<span class = "pagenum">238</span>
+by whose Confession he found the truth: He pardon’d him, thinking not
+fit to punish him, who obey’d a Man whom the Weakness of his Father had
+render’d powerful.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards they conducted <i>Agnes</i> back to <i>Coimbra</i>, where
+her Adventure began to make a great Noise: the Princess was ready to die
+with Despair, and at first thought it was only a continuation of the
+design this fair Maid had of retiring; but some Women that served her
+having told the Princess, that she was carried away by Violence,
+<i>Constantia</i> made her Complaint to the King, who regarded her not
+at all.</p>
+
+<p>‘Madam, said he to her, let this fatal Plague remove it self, who
+takes from you the Heart of your Husband; and without afflicting your
+self for her absence, bless Heaven and me for&nbsp;it.’</p>
+
+<p>The generous Princess took <i>Agnes’s</i> part with a great deal of
+Courage, and was then disputing her defence with the King, when <i>Don
+Pedro</i> arrived at <i>Coimbra</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The first Object that met the Prince’s Eyes was <i>Don Alvaro</i>,
+who was passing thro’ one of the Courts of the Palace, amidst a Croud of
+Courtiers, whom his Favour with the King drew after him. This sight made
+<i>Don Pedro</i> rage; but that of the Princess and <i>Agnes</i> caus’d
+in <i>Alvaro</i> another sort of Emotion: He easily divin’d, that it was
+<i>Don Pedro</i>, who had taken her from his Men, and, if his Fury had
+acted what it would, it might have produc’d very sad effects.</p>
+
+<p>‘<i>Don Alvaro</i>, said the Prince to him, is it thus you make use
+of the Authority which the King my Father hath given you? Have you
+receiv’d Employments and Power from him, for no other end but to do
+these base Actions, and to commit Rapes on Ladies? Are you ignorant how
+the Princess interests her self in all that concerns this Maid? And do
+you not know the tender and affectionate Esteem she has for her.’ No,
+replied <i>Don Alvaro</i>, (with an Insolence that had like to have put
+the Prince past all patience)
+<span class = "pagenum">239</span>
+‘I am not ignorant of it, nor of the Interest your Heart takes in her.’
+‘Base and treacherous as thou art, replied the Prince, neither the
+Favour which thou hast so much abused, nor the Insolence which makes
+thee speak this, should hinder me from punishing thee, wert thou worthy
+of my Sword; but there are other ways to humble thy Pride, and ’tis not
+fit for such an Arm as mine to seek so base an Employment to punish such
+a Slave as thou art.’</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Pedro</i> went away at these Words, and left <i>Alvaro</i> in
+a Rage, which is not to be express’d; despairing to see himself defeated
+in an Enterprize he thought so sure; and at the Contempt the Prince
+shewed him, he promis’d himself to sacrifice all to his Revenge.</p>
+
+<p>Tho’ the King lov’d his Son, he was so prepossessed against his
+Passion, that he could not pardon him what he had done, and condemn’d
+him as much for this last act of Justice, in delivering <i>Agnes</i>, as
+if it had been the greatest of Crimes.</p>
+
+<p><i>Elvira</i>, whom the sweetness of Hope flatter’d some moments, saw
+the return of <i>Agnes</i> with a sensible Displeasure, which suffer’d
+her to think of nothing but irritating her Brother.</p>
+
+<p>In fine, the Prince saw the King, but instead of being receiv’d by
+him with a Joy due to the success of his Journey, he appear’d all sullen
+and out of humour. After having paid him his first Respects, and given
+him an exact account of what he had done, he spoke to him about the
+Violence committed against the Person of <i>Agnes de Castro</i>, and
+complain’d to him of it in the Name of the Princess, and of his own:
+‘You ought to be silent in this Affair, replied the King; and the Motive
+which makes you speak is so shameful for you, that I sigh and blush at
+it. What is it to you, if this Maid, whose Presence is troublesome to
+me, be removed hence, since ’tis I that desire it?’ ‘But, Sir,
+interrupted the Prince, what necessity is there of employing Force,
+Artifice, and the Night,
+<span class = "pagenum">240</span>
+when the least of your Orders had been sufficient? <i>Agnes</i> would
+willingly have obey’d you; and if she continue at <i>Coimbra</i>, it is
+perhaps against her Will: but be it as it will, Sir, <i>Constantia</i>
+is offended, and if were not for fear of displeasing you, (the only
+thing that retains&nbsp;me) the Ravisher should not have gone
+unpunished.’ ‘How happy are you, replied the King, smiling with disdain,
+in making use of the Name of <i>Constantia</i> to uphold the Interest of
+your Heart! You think I am ignorant of it, and that this unhappy
+Princess looks on the Injury you do her with Indifference. Never speak
+to me more of <i>Agnes</i>, (with a Tone very severe.) Content your
+self, that I pardon what’s past, and think maturely of the
+Considerations I have for <i>Don Alvaro</i>, when you would design any
+thing against him.’ ‘Yes, Sir, replied the Prince with fierceness,
+I&nbsp;will speak to you no more of <i>Agnes</i>; but <i>Constantia</i>
+and I will never suffer, that she should be any more expos’d to the
+Insolence of your Favourite.’ The King had like to have broke out into a
+Rage at this Discourse: but he had yet a rest of Prudence left that
+hinder’d him. ‘Retire (said he to <i>Don Pedro</i>) and go make
+Reflections on what my Power can do, and what you owe&nbsp;me.’</p>
+
+<p>During this Conversation, <i>Agnes</i> was receiving from the
+Princess, and from all the Ladies of the Court, great Expressions of Joy
+and Friendship: <i>Constantia</i> saw again her Husband, with a great
+deal of satisfaction: and far from being sorry at what he had lately
+done for <i>Agnes</i>, she privately return’d him thanks for it, and
+still was the same towards him, notwith&shy;standing all the Jealousy
+which was endeavour’d to be inspir’d in her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i>, who found in his Sister a Maliciousness worthy of
+his trust, did not conceal his Fury from her. After she had made vain
+attempts to moderate it, in blotting <i>Agnes</i> out of his Heart,
+seeing that his Disease was incurable, she made him understand, that so
+long as <i>Constantia</i> should not be jealous, there were no hopes:
+<span class = "pagenum">241</span>
+That if <i>Agnes</i> should once be suspected by her, she would not fail
+of abandoning her, and that then it would be easy to get Satisfaction,
+the Prince being now so proud of <i>Constantia’s</i> Indulgency. In
+giving this Advice to her Brother, she promis’d to serve him
+effectually; and having no need of any body but her self to perform ill
+things, she recommended <i>Don Alvaro</i> to manage well the King.</p>
+
+<p>Four Years were pass’d in that melancholy Station, and the Princess,
+besides her first dead Child, and <i>Ferdinando</i>, who was still
+living, had brought two Daughters into the World.</p>
+
+<p>Some days after <i>Don Pedro’s</i> return, <i>Elvira</i>, who was
+most dextrous in the Art of well-governing any wicked Design, did gain
+one of the Servants who belong’d to <i>Constantia’s</i> Chamber. She
+first spoke her fair, then overwhelm’d her with Presents and Gifts; and
+finding in her as ill a Disposition as in her self, she readily resolv’d
+to employ her.</p>
+
+<p>After she was sure of her, she compos’d a Letter, which was after
+writ over again in an unknown Hand, which she deposited in that Maid’s
+Hands, that she might deliver to <i>Constantia</i> with the first
+Opportunity, telling her, that <i>Agnes</i> had drop’d it. This was the
+Substance of&nbsp;it:</p>
+
+<p class = "space">
+<i>I Employ not my own Hand to write to you, for Reasons that I shall
+acquaint you with. How happy am I to have overcome all your Scruples!
+And what Happiness shall I find in the Progress of our Intrigue! The
+whole Course of my Life shall continually represent to you the Sincerity
+of my Affections; pray think on the secret Conversation that I require
+of you: I&nbsp;dare not speak to you in publick, therefore let me
+conjure you here, by all that I have suffer’d, to come to-night to the
+Place appointed, and speak to me no more of <em>Constantia</em>; for she
+must be content with my Esteem, since my Heart can be only
+yours.</i></p>
+
+<p class = "space">
+The unfaithful <i>Portuguese</i> serv’d <i>Elvira</i> exactly to her
+Desires; and the very next day seeing <i>Agnes</i> go out from the
+<span class = "pagenum">242</span>
+Princess, she carry’d <i>Constantia</i> the Letter; which she took, and
+found there what she was far from imagining: Tenderness never produc’d
+an Effect more full of grief, than what it made her suffer. ‘Alas! they
+are both culpable, (said she, sighing) and in spite of the Defence my
+Heart would make for ’em, my Reason condemns ’em. Unhappy Princess, the
+sad subject of the Capriciousness of Fortune! Why dost not thou die,
+since thou hast not a Heart of Honour to revenge it self? O&nbsp;<i>Don
+Pedro</i>! why did you give me your Hand, without your Heart? And thou,
+fair, and ungrateful! wert thou born to be the Misfortune of my Life,
+and perhaps the only cause of my Death?’ After having given some Moments
+to the Violence of her Grief, she called the Maid, who brought her the
+Letter, commanding her to speak of it to no body, and to suffer no one
+to enter into her Chamber.</p>
+
+<p>She consider’d then of that Prince with more liberty, whose Soul she
+was not able to touch with the least Tenderness; and of the cruel Fair
+One that had betray’d her: Yet, even while her Soul was upon the Rack,
+she was willing to excuse ’em, and ready to do all she could for <i>Don
+Pedro</i>; at least, she made a firm Resolution, not to complain of
+him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Elvira</i> was not long without being inform’d of what had pass’d,
+nor of the Melancholy of the Princess, from whom she hop’d all she
+desir’d.</p>
+
+<p><i>Agnes</i>, far from foreseeing this Tempest, return’d to
+<i>Constantia</i>; and hearing of her Indisposition, pass’d the rest of
+the Day at her Chamber-door, that she might from time to time learn news
+of her Health: for she was not suffer’d to come in, at which
+<i>Agnes</i> was both surpriz’d and troubled. The Prince had the same
+Destiny, and was astonish’d at an Order which ought to have excepted
+him.</p>
+
+<p>The next day <i>Constantia</i> appear’d, but so alter’d, that ’twas
+not difficult to imagine what she had suffer’d. <i>Agnes</i> was the
+most impatient to approach her, and the Princess
+<span class = "pagenum">243</span>
+could not forbear weeping, They were both silent for some time, and
+<i>Constantia</i> attributed this silence of <i>Agnes</i> to some
+Remorse which she felt: and this unhappy Maid being able to hold no
+longer; ‘Is it possible, Madam, (said she) that two Days should have
+taken from me all the Goodness you had for me? What have I done? And for
+what do you punish me?’ The Princess regarded her with a languishing
+Look, and return’d her no Answer but Sighs. <i>Agnes</i>, offended with
+this reserve, went out with very great Dissatisfaction and Anger; which
+contributed to her being thought criminal. The Prince came in
+immediately after, and found <i>Constantia</i> more disorder’d than
+usual, and conjur’d her in a most obliging manner to take care of her
+Health: <i>The greatest good for me</i> (said she) <i>is not the
+Continuation of my Life; I&nbsp;should have more care of it if I loved
+you less: but&mdash;</i> She could not proceed; and the Prince,
+excessively afflicted at her trouble, sigh’d sadly, without making her
+any answer, which redoubled her Grief. Spite then began to mix it self;
+and all things persuading the Princess that they made a Sacrifice of
+her, she would enter into no Explanation with her Husband, but suffered
+him to go away without saying any thing to him.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing is more capable of troubling our Reason, and consuming our
+Health, than secret Notions of Jealousy in Solitude.</p>
+
+<p><i>Constantia</i>, who us’d to open her Heart freely to <i>Agnes</i>,
+now believing she had deceiv’d her, abandon’d her self so absolutely to
+Grief, that she was ready to sink under it; she immediately fell sick
+with the violence of it, and all the Court was concern’d at this
+Misfortune: <i>Don Pedro</i> was truly afflicted at it, but <i>Agnes</i>
+more than all the World beside. <i>Constantia’s</i> Coldness towards
+her, made her continually sigh; and her Distemper created merely by
+fancy, caus’d her to reflect on every thing that offer’d it self to her
+Memory: so that at last she began even to fear her self, and to reproach
+her self for what the Princess suffer’d.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">244</span>
+<p>But the Distemper began to be such, that they fear’d
+<i>Constantia’s</i> Death, and she her self began to feel the Approaches
+of it. This Thought did not at all disquiet her: she look’d on Death as
+the only relief from all her Torments; and regarded the Despair of all
+that approach’d her without the least concern.</p>
+
+<p>The King, who lov’d her tenderly, and who knew her Virtue, was
+infinitely mov’d at the Extremity she was in. And <i>Don Alvaro</i>, who
+lost not the least Occasion of making him understand that it was
+Jealousy which was the cause of <i>Constantia’s</i> Distemper, did but
+too much incense him against Criminals, worthy of Compassion. The King
+was not of a Temper to conceal his Anger long: ‘You give fine Examples,
+(said he to the Prince) and such as will render <ins class =
+"correction" title = "text reads ‘yonr’">your</ins> Memory illustrious!
+The Death of <i>Constantia</i> (of&nbsp;which you are only to be
+accus’d) is the unhappy Fruit of your guilty Passion. Fear Heaven after
+this: and behold your self as a Monster that does not deserve to see the
+Light. If the Interest you have in my Blood did not plead for you, what
+ought you not to fear from my just Resentment? But what must not
+imprudent <i>Agnes</i>, to whom nothing ties me, expect from my hands?
+If <i>Constantia</i> dies, she, who has the Boldness, in my Court, to
+cherish a foolish Flame by vain Hopes, and make us lose the most amiable
+Princess, whom thou art not worthy to possess, shall feel the Effects of
+her Indiscretion.’</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Pedro</i> knew very well, that <i>Constantia</i> was not
+ignorant of his Sentiments for <i>Agnes</i>; but he knew also with what
+Moderation she receiv’d it: He was very sensible of the King’s
+Reproaches; but as his Fault was not voluntary, and that a commanding
+Power, a&nbsp;fatal Star, had forc’d him to love in spite of himself, he
+appear’d afflicted and confus’d: ‘You condemn me, Sir,
+(answer’d&nbsp;he) without having well examin’d me; and if my Intentions
+were known to you; perhaps you would not find me so criminal:
+I&nbsp;would take the Princess for my Judge,
+<span class = "pagenum">245</span>
+whom you say I sacrifice, if she were in a condition to be consulted. If
+I am guilty of any Weakness, her Justice never reproach’d me for it; and
+my Tongue never inform’d <i>Agnes</i> of it. But suppose I have
+committed any Fault, why would you punish an innocent Lady, who perhaps
+condemns me for it as much as you? Ah, Villain! (interrupted the King)
+she has but too much favour’d you: You would not have lov’d thus long,
+had she not made you some Returns. Sir, (reply’d the Prince, pierced
+with Grief for the Outrage that was committed against <i>Agnes</i>) you
+offend a Virtue, than which nothing can be purer; and those Expressions
+which break from your Choler, are not worthy of you. <i>Agnes</i> never
+granted me any Favours; I&nbsp;never asked any of her; and I protest to
+Heaven, I&nbsp;never thought of any thing contrary to the Duty I owe
+<i>Constantia</i>.’</p>
+
+<p>As they thus argued, one of the Princess’s Women came all in Tears to
+acquaint <i>Don Pedro</i>, that the Princess was in the last Extremities
+of Life: ‘Go see thy fatal Work, (said the King) and expect from a
+too-long patient Father the Usage thou deservest.’</p>
+
+<p>The Prince ran to <i>Constantia</i>, whom he found dying, and
+<i>Agnes</i> in a swoon, in the Arms of some of the Ladies. What caus’d
+this double Calamity, was, that <i>Agnes</i>, who could suffer no longer
+the Indifferency of the Princess, had conjur’d her to tell her what was
+her Crime, and either to take her Life from her, or restore her to her
+Friendship.</p>
+
+<p><i>Constantia</i>, who found she must die, could no longer keep her
+secret Affliction from <i>Agnes</i>; and after some Words, which were a
+Preparation to the sad Explanation, she shewed her that fatal Billet,
+which <i>Elvira</i> had caus’d to be written: ‘Ah, Madam! (cry’d out the
+fair <i>Agnes</i>, after having read&nbsp;it) Ah, Madam! how many cruel
+Inquietudes had you spared me had you open’d your Heart to me with your
+wonted Bounty! ’Tis easy to see that this Letter is counterfeit, and
+that I have Enemies without
+<span class = "pagenum">246</span>
+Compassion. Could you believe the Prince so imprudent, to make use of
+any other Hand but his own, on an occasion like this? And do you believe
+me so simple to keep about me this Testimony of my Shame, with so little
+Precaution? You are neither betray’d by your Husband nor me;
+I&nbsp;attest Heaven, and those Efforts I have made to leave
+<i>Coimbra</i>. Alas, my dear Princess, how little have you known her,
+whom you have so much honoured? Do not believe that when I have
+justify’d my self, I&nbsp;will have any more Communication with the
+World: No, no; there will be no Retreat far enough from hence for me.
+I&nbsp;will take care to hide this unlucky Face, where it shall be sure
+to do no more harm.’</p>
+
+<p>The Princess touched at this Discourse, and the Tears of
+<i>Agnes</i>, press’d her hand, which she held in hers; and fixing Looks
+upon her capable of moving Pity in the most insensible Souls, ‘If I have
+committed any Offence, my dear <i>Agnes</i>, (answer’d she) Death, which
+I expect in a moment, shall revenge it. I&nbsp;ought also to protest to
+you, That I have not ceas’d loving you, and that I believe every thing
+you have said, giving you back my most tender Affections.’</p>
+
+<p>’Twas at this time that the Grief, which equally oppress’d ’em, put
+the Princess into such an Extremity, that they sent for the Prince. He
+came, and found himself almost without Life or Motion at this sight. And
+what secret Motive soever might call him to the aid of <i>Agnes</i>,
+’twas to <i>Constantia</i> he ran. The Princess, who finding her last
+Moments drawing on, by a cold Sweat that cover’d her all over; and
+finding she had no more business with Life, and causing those Persons
+she most suspected to retire, ‘Sir, (said she to <i>Don Pedro</i>) if I
+abandon Life without regret, it is not without Trouble that I part with
+you. But, Prince, we must vanquish when we come to die; and I will
+forget my self wholly, to think of nothing but of you. I&nbsp;have no
+Reproaches to make against you,
+<span class = "pagenum">247</span>
+knowing that ’tis Inclination that disposes Hearts, and not Reason.
+<i>Agnes</i> is beautiful enough to inspire the most ardent Passion, and
+virtuous enough to deserve the first Fortunes in the World. I&nbsp;ask
+her, once more, pardon for the Injustice I have done her, and recommend
+her to you, as a Person most dear to me. Promise me, my dear Prince,
+before I expire, to give her my Place in your Throne: it cannot be
+better fill’d: you cannot chuse a Princess more perfect for your People,
+nor a better Mother for our little Children. And you my dear and
+faithful <i>Agnes</i> (pursu’d she) listen not to a Virtue too
+scrupulous, that may make any opposition to the Prince of
+<i>Portugal</i>: Refuse him not a Heart of which he is worthy; and give
+him that Friendship which you had for me, with that which is due to his
+Merit. Take care of my little <i>Fernando</i>, and the two young
+Princesses: let them find me in you, and speak to them sometimes of me.
+Adieu, live both of you happy, and receive my last Embraces.’</p>
+
+<p>The afflicted <i>Agnes</i>, who had recover’d a little her Forces,
+lost them again a second time; Her Weakness was follow’d with
+Convulsions so vehement, that they were afraid of her Life; but <i>Don
+Pedro</i> never removed from <i>Constantia</i>: ‘What, Madam
+(said&nbsp;he) you will leave me then; and you think ’tis for my Good.
+Alas, <i>Constantia</i>! if my Heart has committed an Outrage against
+you, your Virtue has sufficiently revenged you on me in spite of you.
+Can you think me so barbarous?’&mdash;As he was going on, he saw Death
+shut the Eyes of the most generous Princess for ever; and he was within
+a very little of following her.</p>
+
+<p>But what Loads of Grief did this bring upon <i>Agnes</i>, when she
+found in that Interval, wherein Life and Death were struggling in her
+Soul, that <i>Constantia</i> was newly expir’d! She would then have
+taken away her own Life, and have let her Despair fully appear.</p>
+
+<p>At the noise of the Death of the Princess, the Town and the Palace
+were all in Tears. <i>Elvira</i>, who saw then
+<span class = "pagenum">248</span>
+<i>Don Pedro</i> free to engage himself, repented of having contributed
+to the Death of <i>Constantia</i>; and thinking her self the Cause of
+it, promis’d in her Griefs never to pardon herself.</p>
+
+<p>She had need of being guarded several days together; during which
+time she fail’d not incessantly to weep. And the Prince gave all those
+days to deepest Mourning. But when the first Emotions were past, those
+of his Love made him feel that he was still the same.</p>
+
+<p>He was a long time without seeing <i>Agnes</i>; but this Absence of
+his served only to make her appear the more charming when he did see
+her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i>, who was afraid of the Liberty of the Prince, made
+new Efforts to move <i>Agnes de Castro</i>, who was now become
+insensible to every thing but Grief. <i>Elvira</i>, who was willing to
+make the best of the Design she had begun, consulted all her Womens
+Arts, and the Delicacy of her Wit, to revive the Flames with which the
+Prince once burnt for her: But his Constancy was bounded, and it was
+<i>Agnes</i> alone that was to reign over his Heart. She had taken a
+firm Resolution, since the Death of <i>Constantia</i>, to pass the rest
+of her Days in a solitary Retreat. In spite of the precaution she took
+to hide this Design, the Prince was informed of it, and did all he was
+able to dispose his Constancy and Fortitude to it. He thought himself
+stronger than he really was; but after he had well consulted his Heart,
+he found but too well how necessary the Presence of <i>Agnes</i> was to
+him. ‘Madam (said he to her one day, with a Heart big, and his Eyes in
+Tears) which Action of my Life has made you determine my Death? Tho’
+I&nbsp;never told you how much I loved you, yet I am persuaded you are
+not ignorant of it. I&nbsp;was constrained to be silent during some
+Years for your sake, for <i>Constantia’s</i>, and my own; but ’tis not
+possible for me to put this force upon my Heart for ever: I&nbsp;must
+once at least tell you how it languishes. Receive then the Assurances of
+a Passion, full of Respect
+<span class = "pagenum">249</span>
+and Ardour, with an offer of my Fortune, which I wish not better, but
+for your advantage.’</p>
+
+<p><i>Agnes</i> answer’d not immediately to these words, but with
+abundance of Tears; which having wiped away, and beholding <i>Don
+Pedro</i> with an air which made him easily comprehend she did not agree
+with his Desires; ‘If I were capable of the Weakness with which you’d
+inspire me, you’d be obliged to punish me for it: What! (said she)
+<i>Constantia</i> is scarce bury’d, and you would have me offend her!
+No, my Prince (added she with more Softness) no, no, she whom you have
+heap’d so many Favours on, will not call down the Anger of Heaven, and
+the Contempt of Men upon her, by an Action so perfidious. Be not
+obstinate then in a Design in which I will never shew you Favour. You
+owe to <i>Constantia</i>, after her Death, a&nbsp;Fidelity that may
+justify you: and I, to repair the Ills I have made her suffer ought to
+shun all converse with you.’ ‘Go, Madam (reply’d the Prince, growing
+pale) go, and expect the News of my Death; in that part of the World,
+whither your Cruelty shall lead you, the News shall follow close after;
+you shall quickly hear of it: and I will go seek it in those Wars which
+reign among my Neighbours.’</p>
+
+<p>These Words made the fair <i>Agnes de Castro</i> perceive that her
+Innocency was not so great as she imagined, and that her Heart
+interested it self in the Preservation of <i>Don Pedro</i>: ‘You ought,
+Sir, to preserve your Life (reply’d <i>Agnes</i>) for the sake of the
+little Prince and Princesses, which <i>Constantia</i> has left you.
+Would you abandon their Youth (continued she, with a tender Tone) to the
+Cruelty of <i>Don Alvaro</i>? Live! Sir, live! and let the unhappy
+<i>Agnes</i> be the only Sacrifice.’ ‘Alas, cruel Maid! (interrupted
+<i>Don Pedro</i>) Why do you command me to live, if I cannot live with
+you? Is it an effect of your Hatred?’ ‘No, Sir, (reply’d <i>Agnes</i>) I
+do not hate you; and I wish to God that I could be able to defend my
+self against the Weakness with which I find my self possess’d. Oblige me
+to say no
+<span class = "pagenum">250</span>
+more, Sir: you see my Blushes, interpret them as you please: but
+consider yet, that the less Aversion I find I have to you, the more
+culpable I am; and that I ought no more to see, or speak to you. In
+fine, Sir, if you oppose my Retreat, I&nbsp;declare to you, that <i>Don
+Alvaro</i>, as odious as he is to me, shall serve for a Defence against
+you; and that I will sooner consent to marry a Man I abhor, than to
+favour a Passion that cost <i>Constantia</i> her Life.’ ‘Well then,
+<i>Agnes</i> (reply’d the Prince, with Looks all languishing and dying)
+follow the Motions which barbarous Virtue inspires you with; take these
+Measures you judge necessary against an unfortunate Lover, and enjoy the
+Glory of having cruelly refused&nbsp;me.’</p>
+
+<p>At these Words he went away; and troubled as <i>Agnes</i> was, she
+would not stay him: Her Courage combated with her Grief, and she thought
+now, more than ever, of departing.</p>
+
+<p>’Twas difficult for her to go out of <i>Coimbra</i>; and not to defer
+what appear’d to her so necessary, she went immediately to the Apartment
+of the King, notwith&shy;standing the Interest of <i>Don Alvaro</i>. The
+King received her with a Countenance severe, not being able to consent
+to what she demanded: <i>You shall not go hence, <em>(said&nbsp;he)</em>
+and if you are wise, you shall enjoy here with <em>Don Alvaro</em> both
+my Friendship and my Favour. I&nbsp;have taken another Resolution
+(<em>answer’d</em> Agnes) and the World has no part in it. You will
+accept <em>Don Pedro (reply’d the King)</em> his Fortune is sufficient
+to satisfy an ambitious Maid: but you will not succeed
+<em>Constantia</em>, who lov’d you so tenderly; and <em>Spain</em> has
+Princesses enough to fill up part of the Throne which I shall leave him.
+Sir, (<em>reply’d</em> Agnes, <em>piqu’d at this Discourse</em>) if I
+had a Disposition to love, and a Design to marry, perhaps the Prince
+might be the only Person on whom I would fix it: And you know, if my
+Ancestors did not possess Crowns, yet they were worthy to wear ’em. But
+let it be how it will, I&nbsp;am resolved to depart, and to remain no
+longer a Slave in a Place to which I came free.</i></p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">251</span>
+<p>This bold Answer, which shew’d the Character of <i>Agnes</i>, anger’d
+and astonished the King. <i>You shall go when we think fit
+<em>(reply’d&nbsp;he)</em> and without being a Slave at
+<em>Coimbra</em>, you shall attend our order.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Agnes</i> saw she must stay, and was so griev’d at it, that she
+kept her Chamber several days, without daring to inform herself of the
+Prince; and this Retirement spared her the Affliction of being visited
+by <i>Don Alvaro</i>.</p>
+
+<p>During this, <i>Don Pedro</i> fell sick, and was in so great danger,
+that there was a general apprehension of his Death. <i>Agnes</i> did not
+in the least doubt, but it was an effect of his Discontent: she thought
+at first she had Strength and Resolution enough to see him die, rather
+than to favour him; but had she reflected a little, she had soon been
+convinc’d to the contrary. She found not in her Heart that cruel
+Constancy she thought there so well established: She felt Pains and
+Inquietude, shed Tears, made Wishes; and, in fine, discover’d that she
+lov’d.</p>
+
+<p>’Twas impossible to see the Heir of the Crown, a Prince that deserved
+so well, even at the point of Death, without a general Affliction. The
+People who loved him, pass’d whole days at the Palace-gate to hear News
+of him: The Court was all over-whelm’d with Grief.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i> knew very well how to conceal a malicious Joy,
+under an Appearance of Sadness. <i>Elvira</i>, full of Tenderness, and
+perhaps of Remorse, suffer’d also on her side. The King, altho’ he
+condemned the Love of his Son, yet still had a Tenderness for him, and
+could not resolve to lose him. <i>Agnes de Castro</i>, who knew the
+Cause of his Distemper, expected the End of it with strange Anxieties:
+In fine, after a Month had pass’d away in Fears, they began to have a
+little hopes of his Recovery. The Prince and <i>Don Alvaro</i> were the
+only Persons that were not glad of it: But <i>Agnes</i> rejoic’d enough
+for all the rest.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Pedro</i>, seeing that he must live whether he wou’d or no,
+thought of nothing but passing his days in melancholy
+<span class = "pagenum">252</span>
+and discontent: As soon as he was in a condition to walk, he sought out
+the most solitary Places, and gain’d so much upon his own Weakness, to
+go every where, where <i>Agnes</i> was not; but her Idea followed him
+always, and his Memory, faithful to represent her to him with all her
+Charms, render’d her always dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when they had carry’d him into the Garden, he sought out a
+Labyrinth which was at the farthest part of it, to hide his Melancholy,
+during some hours; there he found the sad <i>Agnes</i>, whom Grief,
+little different from his, had brought thither; the sight of her whom he
+expected not, made him tremble: She saw by his pale and meagre Face the
+remains of his Distemper; his Eyes full of Languishment troubled her,
+and tho’ her Desire was so great to have fled from him, an unknown Power
+stopt her, and ’twas impossible for her to&nbsp;go.</p>
+
+<p>After some Moments of Silence, which many Sighs interrupted, <i>Don
+Pedro</i> rais’d himself from the Place where his Weakness had forced
+him to sit; he made <i>Agnes</i> see, as he approach’d her, the sad
+Marks of his Sufferings: and not content with the Pity he saw in her
+Eyes, <i>You have resolved my Death then, cruel <em>Agnes</em>,
+<em>(said&nbsp;he)</em> my desire was the same with yours; but Heaven
+has thought fit to reserve me for other Misfortunes, and I see you
+again, as unhappy, but more in love than ever.</i></p>
+
+<p>There was no need of these Words to move <i>Agnes</i> to compassion,
+the Languishment of the Prince spoke enough; and the Heart of this fair
+Maid was but too much disposed to yield it self: She thought then that
+<i>Constantia</i> ought to be satisfy’d; Love, which combated for <i>Don
+Pedro</i>, triumphed over Friendship, and found that happy Moment, for
+which the Prince of <i>Portugal</i>, had so long sighed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Do not reproach me, for that which has cost me more than you, Sir,
+<em>(replied she)</em> and do not accuse a Heart, which is neither
+ingrateful nor barbarous: and I must tell you, that I love you. But now
+I have made you that Confession, what
+<span class = "pagenum">253</span>
+is it farther that you require of me?</i> <i>Don Pedro</i>, who expected
+not a Change so favourable, felt a double Satisfaction; and falling at
+the Feet of <i>Agnes</i>, he express’d more by the Silence his Passion
+created, than he could have done by the most eloquent Words.</p>
+
+<p>After having known all his good Fortune, he then consulted with the
+amiable <i>Agnes</i>, what was to be feared from the King; they
+concluded that the cruel Billet, which so troubled the last days of
+<i>Constantia</i>, could come from none but <i>Elvira</i> and <i>Don
+Alvaro</i>. The Prince, who knew that his Father had searched already an
+Alliance for him, and was resolv’d on his Favourite’s marrying
+<i>Agnes</i>, conjur’d her so tenderly to prevent these Persecutions, by
+consenting to a secret Marriage, that, after having a long time
+consider’d, she at last consented. <i>I&nbsp;will do what you will have
+me</i> (said she) <i>tho’ I&nbsp;presage nothing but fatal Events from
+it; all my Blood turns to Ice, when I think of this Marriage, and the
+Image of <em>Constantia</em> seems to hinder me from
+doing&nbsp;it.</i></p>
+
+<p>The amorous Prince surmounted all her Scruples, and separated himself
+from <i>Agnes</i>, with a Satisfaction which soon redoubled his Forces;
+he saw her afterward with the Pleasure of a Mystery: And the Day of
+their Union being arrived, <i>Don Gill</i>, Bishop of <i>Guarda</i>,
+performed the Ceremony of the Marriage, in the Presence of several
+Witnesses, faithful to <i>Don Pedro</i>, who saw him Possessor of all
+the Charms of the fair <i>Agnes</i>.</p>
+
+<p>She lived not the more peaceable for belonging to the Prince of
+<i>Portugal</i>; her Enemies, who continually persecuted her, left her
+not without Troubles: and the King, whom her Refusal inrag’d, laid his
+absolute Commands on her to marry <i>Don Alvaro</i>, with Threats to
+force her to it, if she continu’d rebellious.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince took loudly her part; and this, join’d to the Refusal he
+made of marrying the Princess of <i>Arragon</i>, caus’d Suspicions of
+the Truth in the King his Father.
+<span class = "pagenum">254</span>
+He was seconded by those that were too much interested, not to unriddle
+this Secret. <i>Don Alvaro</i> and his Sister acted with so much care,
+gave so many Gifts, and made so many Promises, that they discover’d the
+secret Engagements of <i>Don Pedro</i> and <i>Agnes</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The King wanted but little of breaking out into all the Rage and Fury
+so great a Disappointment could inspire him with, against the Princess.
+<i>Don Alvaro</i>, whose Love was changed into the most violent Hatred,
+appeased the first Transports of the King, by making him comprehend,
+that if they could break the Marriage of ’em, that would not be a
+sufficient Revenge; and so poison’d the Soul of the King, to consent to
+the Death of <i>Agnes</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The barbarous <i>Don Alvaro</i> offered his Arm for this terrible
+Execution, and his Rage was Security for the Sacrifice.</p>
+
+<p>The King, who thought the Glory of his Family disgraced by this
+Alliance, and his own in particular in the Procedure of his Son, gave
+full Power to this Murderer, to make the innocent <i>Agnes</i> a Victim
+to his Rage.</p>
+
+<p>It was not easy to execute this horrid Design: Tho’ the Prince saw
+<i>Agnes</i> but in secret, yet all his Cares were still awake for her,
+and he was marry’d to her above a Year, before <i>Don Alvaro</i> could
+find out an opportunity so long sought for.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince diverted himself but little, and very rarely went far from
+<i>Coimbra</i>; but on a Day, an unfortunate Day, and marked out by
+Heaven for an unheard-of and horrid Assassination, he made a Party to
+hunt at a fine House, which the King of <i>Portugal</i> had near the
+City.</p>
+
+<p><i>Agnes</i> lov’d every thing that gave the Prince satisfaction; but
+a secret Trouble made her apprehend some Misfortune in this unhappy
+Journey. <i>Sir</i>, (said she to him, alarm’d, without knowing the
+Reason why) <i>I&nbsp;tremble, seeing you today as it were designed the
+last of my Life: Preserve your self, my dear Prince; and tho’ the
+Exercise you take be not
+<span class = "pagenum">255</span>
+very dangerous, beware of the least Hazards, and bring me back all that
+I trust with you. Don Pedro</i>, who had never found her so handsome and
+so charming before, embraced her several times, and went out of the
+Palace with his Followers, with a Design not to return till the next
+Day.</p>
+
+<p>He was no sooner gone, but the cruel <i>Don Alvaro</i> prepared
+himself for the Execution he had resolv’d on; he thought it of that
+importance, that it required more Hands than his own, and so chose for
+his Companions <i>Don Lopez Pacheo</i>, and <i>Pedro Cuello</i>, two
+Monsters like himself, whose Cruelty he was assur’d of by the Presents
+he had made&nbsp;’em.</p>
+
+<p>They waited the coming of the Night, and the lovely <i>Agnes</i> was
+in her first Sleep, which was the last of her Life, when these Assassins
+approach’d her Bed. Nothing made resistance to <i>Don Alvaro</i>, who
+could do every thing, and whom the blackest Furies introduced to
+<i>Agnes</i>; she waken’d, and opening her Curtains, saw, by the Candle
+burning in her Chamber, the Ponyard with which <i>Don Alvaro</i> was
+armed; he having his Face not cover’d, she easily knew him, and
+forgetting herself, to think of nothing but the Prince: <i>Just
+Heaven</i> (said she, lifting up her fine Eyes) <i>if you will revenge
+<em>Constantia</em>, satisfy your self with my Blood only, and spare
+that of</i> Don Pedro. The barbarous Man that heard her, gave her not
+time to say more; and finding he could never (by&nbsp;all he could do by
+Love) touch the Heart of the fair <i>Agnes</i>, he pierc’d it with his
+Ponyard: his Accomplices gave her several Wounds, tho’ there was no
+necessity of so many to put an end to an innocent Life.</p>
+
+<p>What a sad Spectacle was this for those who approach’d her Bed the
+next day! And what dismal News was this to the unfortunate Prince of
+<i>Portugal</i>! He returned to <i>Coimbra</i> at the first report of
+this Adventure, and saw what had certainly cost him his Life, if Men
+could die of Grief. After having a thousand times embraced the bloody
+Body of <i>Agnes</i>, and said all that a just Despair could inspire him
+with, he ran like a Mad-man into the Palace, demanding
+<span class = "pagenum">256</span>
+the Murderers of his Wife, of things that could not hear him. In fine,
+he saw the King, and without observing any respect, he gave a loose to
+his Resentment: after having rail’d a long time, overwhelm’d with Grief,
+he fell into a Swoon, which continu’d all that day. They carry’d him
+into his Apartment: and the King, believing that his Misfortune would
+prove his Cure, repented not of what he had permitted.</p>
+
+<p><i>Don Alvaro</i>, and the two other Assassins, quitted
+<i>Coimbra</i>. This Absence of theirs made ’em appear guilty of the
+Crime; for which the afflicted Prince vow’d a speedy Vengeance to the
+Ghost of his lovely <i>Agnes</i>, resolving to pursue them to the
+uttermost part of the Universe; He got a considerable number of Men
+together, sufficient to have made resistance, even to the King of
+<i>Portugal</i> himself, if he should yet take the part of the
+Murderers: with these he ravaged the whole Country, as far as the
+<i>Duero</i> Waters, and carry’d on a War, even till the Death of the
+King, continually mixing Tears with Blood, which he gave to the revenge
+of his dearest <i>Agnes</i>.</p>
+
+
+<p class = "space">
+Such was the deplorable End of the unfortunate Love of <i>Don Pedro</i>
+of <i>Portugal</i>, and of the fair <i>Agnes de Castro</i>, whose
+Remembrance he faithfully preserv’d in his Heart, even upon the Throne,
+to which he mounted by the Right of his Birth, after the Death of the
+King.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">257</span>
+<a name = "history_nun" id = "history_nun">&nbsp;</a>
+
+<h3>THE HISTORY OF THE NUN;<br>
+OR, THE FAIR VOW-BREAKER.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">259</span>
+<h4><a name = "history_intro" id = "history_intro">
+INTRODUCTION.</a></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">In</span> the Epistle Dedicatory to Antony
+Hammond, Esq., of Somersham-Place, prefacing that pathetic tragedy,
+<i>The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery</i><a class = "tag"
+name = "tag_nun_1" id = "tag_nun_1" href = "#note_nun_1">1</a> (4to,
+1694), Southerne writes: ‘I&nbsp;took the Hint of the Tragical part of
+this Play from a Novel of Mrs. <i>Behn’s</i>, call’d <i>The Fair
+Vow-Breaker</i>; you will forgive me for calling it a Hint, when you
+find I have little more than borrow’d the Question, how far such a
+Distress was to be carry’d, upon the Misfortune of a Woman’s having
+innocently two Husbands, at the same time’.</p>
+
+<p>In the many collected editions of Mrs. Behn’s popular novels and
+histories, from the first, published under the auspices of Gildon in
+1696, to the ninth (2&nbsp;vols, 12mo, London, 1751), there appears,
+however, no such novel as <i>The Fair Vow-Breaker</i>, but on the other
+hand all contain <i>The Nun; or, the Perjur’d Beauty</i>. For over two
+hundred years then, critics, theatrical historians, bibliographers alike
+have laid down that <i>The Fair Vow-Breaker</i> is merely another title
+for <i>The Nun; or, The Perjur’d Beauty</i>, and that it is to this
+romance we must look for the source of Southerne’s tragedy. The slight
+dissimilarity of name was truly of no great account. On the title-page
+of another novel we have <i>The Fair Jilt; or, The History of Prince
+Tarquin and Miranda</i>; on the half-title of the same <i>The Fair
+Hypocrite; or, The Amours of Prince Tarquin and Miranda</i> (12mo,
+1688). And so Thomas Evans in the preface to his edition of Southerne
+(3&nbsp;vols, 1774), writing the dramatist’s life, says: ‘the plot by
+the author’s confession is taken from a novel of Mrs. Behn’s called
+<i>The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker</i>’. All the modern writers have
+duly, but wrongly, accepted this; and Miss Charlotte E. Morgan in her
+monograph, <i>The English Novel till 1749</i>, informs us in more than
+one place that <i>The Fair Vow-Breaker</i> (12mo, 1689) was the name of
+the editio princeps of <i>The Nun; or, The Perjur’d Beauty</i>.</p>
+
+<p>A crux, however, was soon apparent. Upon investigation it is obvious
+that the plot of <i>The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery</i>
+has simply nothing in common with <i>The Nun; or, The Perjur’d
+Beauty</i>. Mrs. Behn’s Ardelia is a mere coquette who through her
+trifling with three different men is responsible for five deaths: her
+lovers’, Elvira’s, and her own. Isabella, Southerne’s heroine, on the
+other hand, falls a sad victim to the machinations of Carlos, her wicked
+brother-in-law. She is virtuous and constant; Ardelia is a jade capable
+of heartless treachery. Both novel and play end tragically it is true,
+but from entirely different motives and in a dissimilar manner. There is
+no likeness between them.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">260</span>
+<p>Whence then did Southerne derive his plot, and what exactly did he
+mean by the statement that he owed ‘the Hint of the Tragical part’ of
+his drama to a novel of Mrs. Behn’s?</p>
+
+<p>Professor Paul Hamelius of Liège set out to solve the difficulty, and
+in a scholarly article (<i>Modern Language Review</i>, July, 1909), he
+marshals the facts and seeks a solution. ‘Among her [Mrs. Behn’s]
+collected novels’<a class = "tag" name = "tag_nun_2" id = "tag_nun_2"
+href = "#note_nun_2">2</a> he writes ‘there is one entitled <i>The Nun;
+or, The Perjur’d Beauty</i> and Mr. Gosse has kindly informed me that
+the story is identical with <i>The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker</i>
+which appears in the editio princeps of 1689 (inaccessible to&nbsp;me).’
+Unfortunately he can find no analogy and is obliged to draw attention to
+other sources. He points to <i>The Virgin Captive</i>, the fifth story
+in Roger L’Estrange’s <i>The Spanish Decameron</i> (1687). Again: there
+is the famous legend of the lovers of Teruel as dramatized in 1638 by
+Juan Perez de Montalvan, <i>Los Amantes de Teruel</i>. An earlier
+comedia exists on the same subject written by A.&nbsp;Rey de Artieda,
+1581, and yet another play by Tirso de Molina, 1635, based on Artieda.
+Hamelius was obviously not satisfied with his researches, and with a
+half-suggestion that Southerne may have merely intended to pay a
+compliment to his ‘literary friend Mrs. Behn,’ his conclusion is that
+‘the question is naturally still open whether Southerne was not drawing
+from some more immediate source&mdash;possibly even from some lost
+version of the story by Mrs. Behn herself.’</p>
+
+<p>In the course of my preparing the present edition of Mrs. Behn’s
+complete works, Mr. Gosse, adding yet another to innumerable kindnesses
+and encouragements, entrusted me with a little volume<a class = "tag"
+name = "tag_nun_3" id = "tag_nun_3" href = "#note_nun_3">3</a> from his
+private library: <i>The History of the Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker</i>
+(12mo, 1689, Licensed 22 October, 1688), and I soon found this to be the
+immediate source of Southerne’s tragedy, a&nbsp;totally different novel
+from <i>The Nun; or, The Perjur’d Beauty</i>, and one, moreover, which
+has never till now been included in any edition of Mrs. Behn’s works or,
+indeed, reprinted in any form. It were superfluous to compare novel and
+tragedy detail by detail. Many striking, many minor points are the same
+in each. In several instances the nomenclature has been preserved. The
+chief divergence is, of course, the main catastrophe. Mrs. Behn’s
+execution could ill have been represented on the boards, and Southerne’s
+heroine, the victim of villainies and intrigue, is, it must be
+confessed, an infinitely more pathetic figure than guilty Isabella in
+the romance.</p>
+
+<p>The story of a man returning after long absence and finding his
+spouse (or&nbsp;betrothed) wedded to another, familiarized to the
+generality of modern readers by Tennyson’s <i>Enoch Arden</i>, occurs in
+every shape and tongue. No. 69 of <i>Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles</i> is
+<i>L’Honneste femme à Deux Maris</i>.<a class = "tag" name = "tag_nun_4"
+id = "tag_nun_4" href = "#note_nun_4">4</a> A&nbsp;more famous exemplar
+we have in the <i>Decameron</i>, Day IV, Novella 8, whose rubric runs:
+‘Girolamo ama la Salvestra: va, costretto da’ prieghi
+<span class = "pagenum">261</span>
+della madre, a&nbsp;Parigi: torna, e&nbsp;truovala maritata: entrale di
+nascoso in casa, e&nbsp;muorle allato; e&nbsp;portato in una chiesa,
+muore la Salvestra allata a lui.’</p>
+
+<p>Scenes of the amusing underplot of <i>The Fatal Marriage</i> which
+contain some excellent comedy, Southerne took directly from <i>The Night
+Walker; or, The Little Thief</i> (printed as Fletcher’s in 1640 and
+‘corrected by Shirley’ in 1633 according to Herbert’s license). The
+purgatorial farce may be traced to the <i>Decameron</i>, Day III, 8.
+‘Ferondo, mangiata certa polvere, è&nbsp;sotterrato per morto:
+e&nbsp;dall’ abate, chi la moglie di lui si gode, tratto dalla
+sepoltura, è&nbsp;messo in prigione e fattogli credere, che egli è in
+purgatoro; e&nbsp;poi risuscitato .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.’ It is the <i>Feronde;
+ou, le Purgatoire</i> of La Fontaine.</p>
+
+<p><i>The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery</i> long kept the
+stage.<a class = "tag" name = "tag_nun_5" id = "tag_nun_5" href =
+"#note_nun_5">5</a> On 2 December, 1757, Garrick’s version, which
+omitting the comic relief weakens and considerably shortens the play,
+was produced at Drury Lane with himself as Biron and Mrs. Cibber as
+Isabella. The actual name of the tragedy, however, was not changed to
+<i>Isabella</i> till some years after. Mrs. Barry, the original
+Isabella, was acknowledged supreme in this tragedy, and our greatest
+actresses, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. Crawford, Miss Young, Mrs. Siddons, Miss
+O’Neill, have all triumphed in the rôle.</p>
+
+<div class = "footnote">
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_nun_1" id = "note_nun_1" href =
+"#tag_nun_1">1</a>
+This has nothing to do with Scarron’s novel, <i>L’ Innocent Adultère</i>
+which translated was so popular in the 17th and 18th centuries. Bellmour
+carried it in his pocket when he went a-courting Laetitia, to the horror
+of old Fondlewife who discovered the tome, (<i>The Old Batchelor</i>,
+1693), and Lydia Languish was partial to its perusal in 1775.</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_nun_2" id = "note_nun_2" href =
+"#tag_nun_2">2</a>
+Hamelius used the collected edition of 1705.</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_nun_3" id = "note_nun_3" href =
+"#tag_nun_3">3</a>
+It is interesting to note that the book originally belonged to Scott’s
+friend and critic, Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe.</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_nun_4" id = "note_nun_4" href =
+"#tag_nun_4">4</a>
+Reproduced by Celio Malespini <i>Ducento Novelle</i>, No.
+9&nbsp;(Venice, 4to, 1609, but probably written about thirty years
+before).</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_nun_5" id = "note_nun_5" href =
+"#tag_nun_5">5</a>
+A French prose translation of Southerne is to be found in Vol. VIII of
+<i>Le Theâtre Anglois</i>, Londres, 1746. It is entitled <i>L’Adultère
+Innocent</i>; but the comic underplot is very sketchily analyzed, scene
+by scene, and the whole is very mediocre withal.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">262</span>
+
+
+<h5><a name = "history_dedic" id = "history_dedic">
+To the Most Illustrious Princess,</a><br>
+<a class = "comm" name = "nun_commtag1" id = "nun_commtag1" href =
+"#nun_comm1">The Dutchess of Mazarine</a>.</h5>
+
+<p>Madam,</p>
+
+<p>There are none of an Illustrious Quality, who have not been made, by
+some Poet or other, the Patronesses of his Distress’d Hero, or
+Unfortunate Damsel; and such Addresses are Tributes, due only to the
+most Elevated, where they have always been very well receiv’d, since
+they are the greatest Testimonies we can give, of our Esteem and
+Veneration.</p>
+
+<p>Madam, when I survey’d the whole Toor of Ladies at Court, which was
+adorn’d by you, who appear’d there with a Grace and Majesty, peculiar to
+Your Great Self only, mix’d with an irresistible Air of Sweetness,
+Generosity, and Wit, I&nbsp;was impatient for an Opportunity, to tell
+Your Grace, how infinitely one of Your own Sex ador’d You, and that,
+among all the numerous Conquest, Your Grace has made over the Hearts of
+Men, Your Grace had not subdu’d a more entire Slave; I&nbsp;assure you,
+Madam, there is neither Compliment nor Poetry, in this humble
+Declaration, but a Truth, which has cost me a great deal of Inquietude,
+for that Fortune has not set me in such a Station, as might justifie my
+Pretence to the honour and satisfaction of being ever near Your Grace,
+to view eternally that lovely Person, and hear that surprizing Wit; what
+can be more grateful to a Heart, than so great, and so agreeable, an
+Entertainment? And how few Objects are there, that can render it so
+entire a Pleasure, as at once to hear you speak, and to look upon your
+Beauty? A&nbsp;Beauty that is heighten’d, if possible, with an air of
+Negligence, in Dress, wholly Charming, as if your Beauty disdain’d those
+little Arts of your Sex, whose Nicety alone is their greatest Charm,
+while yours, Madam, even without the Assistance of your exalted Birth,
+begets an Awe and Reverence in all that do approach you, and every one
+is proud, and pleas’d, in paying you Homage their several ways,
+according to their Capacities and Talents; mine, Madam, can only be
+exprest by my Pen, which would be infinitely honour’d, in being
+permitted to celebrate your great Name for ever, and perpetually to
+serve, where it has so great an inclination.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time, Madam, I presume to lay this little Trifle at your
+Feet; the Story is true, as it is on the Records of the Town, where it
+was transacted; and if my fair unfortunate VOW-BREAKER do not deserve
+the honour of your Graces Protection, at least, she will be found worthy
+of your Pity; which will be a sufficient Glory, both for her, and,</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp;</span>Madam,<br>
+Your Graces most humble,<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; </span>and most obedient Servant,<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</span>A. BEHN.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">263</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "history_main" id = "history_main">
+THE HISTORY OF THE NUN;</a><br>
+or, The Fair Vow-Breaker.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">Of</span> all the sins, incident to Human
+Nature, there is none, of which Heaven has took so particular, visible,
+and frequent Notice, and Revenge, as on that of <i>Violated Vows</i>,
+which never go unpunished; and the <i>Cupids</i> may boast what they
+will, for the encouragement of their Trade of Love, that Heaven never
+takes cognisance of Lovers broken Vows and Oaths, and that ’tis the only
+Perjury that escapes the Anger of the <i>Gods</i>; But I verily believe,
+if it were search’d into, we should find these frequent Perjuries, that
+pass in the World for so many Gallantries only, to be the occasion of so
+many unhappy Marriages, and the cause of all those Misfortunes, which
+are so frequent to the Nuptiall’d Pair. For not one of a Thousand, but,
+either on his side, or on hers, has been perjur’d, and broke Vows made
+to some fond believing Wretch, whom they have abandon’d and undone. What
+Man that does not boast of the Numbers he has thus ruin’d, and, who does
+not glory in the shameful Triumph? Nay, what Woman, almost, has not a
+pleasure in Deceiving, taught, perhaps, at first, by some dear false
+one, who had fatally instructed her Youth in an Art she ever after
+practis’d, in Revenge on all those she could be too hard for, and
+conquer at their own Weapons? For, without all dispute, Women are by
+Nature more Constant and Just, than Men, and did not their first Lovers
+teach them the trick of Change, they would be <i>Doves</i>, that would
+never quit their Mate, and, like <i>Indian</i> Wives, would leap alive
+into the Graves of their deceased Lovers, and be buried quick
+<span class = "pagenum">264</span>
+with ’em. But Customs of Countries change even Nature her self, and long
+Habit takes her place: The Women are taught, by the Lives of the Men, to
+live up to all their Vices, and are become almost as inconstant; and
+’tis but Modesty that makes the difference, and, hardly, inclination; so
+deprav’d the nicest Appetites grow in time, by bad Examples.</p>
+
+<p>But, as there are degrees of Vows, so there are degrees of
+Punishments for Vows, there are solemn Matrimonial Vows, such as
+contract and are the most effectual Marriage, and have the most reason
+to be so; there are a thousand Vows and Friendships, that pass between
+Man and Man, on a thousand Occasions; but there is another Vow, call’d a
+<i>Sacred Vow</i>, made to God only; and, by which, we oblige our selves
+eternally to serve him with all Chastity and Devotion: This Vow is only
+taken, and made, by those that enter into Holy Orders, and, of all
+broken Vows, these are those, that receive the most severe and notorious
+Revenges of God; and I am almost certain, there is not one Example to be
+produc’d in the World, where Perjuries of this nature have past
+unpunish’d, nay, that have not been persu’d with the greatest and most
+rigorous of Punishments. I&nbsp;could my self, of my own knowledge, give
+an hundred Examples of the fatal Consequences of the Violation of Sacred
+Vows; and who ever make it their business, and are curious in the search
+of such Misfortunes, shall find, as I say, that they never go
+unregarded.</p>
+
+<p>The young Beauty therefore, who dedicates her self to Heaven, and
+weds her self for ever to the service of God, ought, first, very well to
+consider the Self-denial she is going to put upon her youth, her fickle
+faithless deceiving Youth, of one Opinion to day, and of another to
+morrow; like Flowers, which never remain in one state or fashion, but
+bud to day, and blow by insensible degrees, and decay as imperceptibly.
+The Resolution, we promise, and believe
+<span class = "pagenum">265</span>
+we shall maintain, is not in our power, and nothing is so deceitful as
+human Hearts.</p>
+
+<p>I once was design’d an humble Votary in the House of Devotion, but
+fancying my self not endu’d with an obstinacy of Mind, great enough to
+secure me from the Efforts and Vanities of the World, I&nbsp;rather
+chose to deny my self that Content I could not certainly promise my
+self, than to languish (as&nbsp;I have seen some&nbsp;do) in a certain
+Affliction; tho’ possibly, since, I&nbsp;have sufficiently bewailed that
+mistaken and inconsiderate Approbation and Preference of the false
+ungrateful World, (full of nothing but Nonsense, Noise, false Notions,
+and Contradiction) before the Innocence and Quiet of a Cloyster;
+nevertheless, I&nbsp;could wish, for the prevention of abundance of
+Mischiefs and Miseries, that Nunneries and Marriages were not to be
+enter’d into, ’till the Maid, so destin’d, were of a mature Age to make
+her own Choice; and that Parents would not make use of their justly
+assum’d Authority to compel their Children, neither to the one or the
+other; but since I cannot alter Custom, nor shall ever be allow’d to
+make new Laws, or rectify the old ones, I&nbsp;must leave the Young Nuns
+inclos’d to their best Endeavours, of making a Virtue of Necessity; and
+the young Wives, to make the best of a bad Market.</p>
+
+<p>In <i>Iper</i>, a Town, not long since, in the Dominions of the King
+of <i>Spain</i>, and now in possession of the King of <i>France</i>,
+there liv’d a Man of Quality, of a considerable Fortune, call’d, Count
+<i>Henrick de Vallary</i>, who had a very beautiful Lady, by whom, he
+had one Daughter, call’d <i>Isabella</i>, whose Mother dying when she
+was about two years old to the unspeakable Grief of the Count, her
+Husband, he resolv’d never to partake of any Pleasure more, that this
+transitory World could court him with, but determin’d, with himself, to
+dedicate his Youth, and future Days, to Heaven, and to take upon him
+Holy Orders; and, without considering, that, possibly, the young
+<span class = "pagenum">266</span>
+<i>Isabella</i>, when she grew to Woman, might have Sentiments contrary
+to those that now possest him, he design’d she should also become a Nun;
+However, he was not so positive in that Resolution, as to put the matter
+wholly out of her Choice, but divided his Estate; one half he carried
+with him to the Monastery of <i>Jesuits</i>, of which number, he became
+one; and the other half, he gave with <i>Isabella</i>, to the Monastery,
+of which, his only Sister was Lady <i>Abbess</i>, of the Order of St.
+<i>Augustine</i>; but so he ordered the matter, that if, at the Age of
+Thirteen, <i>Isabella</i> had not a mind to take Orders, or that the
+Lady <i>Abbess</i> found her Inclination averse to a Monastick Life, she
+should have such a proportion of the Revenue, as should be fit to marry
+her to a Noble Man, and left it to the discretion of the Lady
+<i>Abbess</i>, who was a Lady of known Piety, and admirable strictness
+of Life, and so nearly related to <i>Isabella</i>, that there was no
+doubt made of her Integrity and Justice.</p>
+
+<p>The little <i>Isabella</i> was carried immediately (in her Mourning
+for her dead Mother) into the Nunnery, and was receiv’d as a very
+diverting Companion by all the young Ladies, and, above all, by her
+Reverend Aunt, for she was come just to the Age of delighting her
+Parents; she was the prettiest forward Pratler in the World, and had a
+thousand little Charms to please, besides the young Beauties that were
+just budding in her little Angel Face: So that she soon became the dear
+lov’d Favourite of the whole House; and as she was an Entertainment to
+them all, so they made it their study to find all the Diversions they
+could for the pretty <i>Isabella</i>; and as she grew in Wit and Beauty
+every day, so they fail’d not to cultivate her Mind; and delicate
+Apprehension, in all that was advantageous to her Sex, and whatever
+Excellency any one abounded in, she was sure to communicate it to the
+young <i>Isabella</i>, if one could Dance, another Sing, another play on
+this Instrument, and another on that; if this spoke one
+<span class = "pagenum">267</span>
+Language, and that another; if she had Wit, and she Discretion, and a
+third, the finest Fashion and Manners; all joyn’d to compleat the Mind
+and Body of this beautiful young Girl; Who, being undiverted with the
+less noble, and less solid, Vanities of the World, took to these
+Virtues, and excell’d in all; and her Youth and Wit being apt for all
+Impressions, she soon became a greater Mistress of their Arts, than
+those who taught her; so that at the Age of eight or nine Years, she was
+thought fit to receive and entertain all the great Men and Ladies, and
+the Strangers of any Nation, at the <i>Grate</i>; and that with so
+admirable a Grace, so quick and piercing a Wit, and so delightful and
+sweet a Conversation, that she became the whole Discourse of the Town,
+and Strangers spread her Fame, as prodigious, throughout the Christian
+World; for Strangers came daily to hear her talk, and sing, and play,
+and to admire her Beauty; and Ladies brought their Children, to shame
+’em into good Fashion and Manners, with looking on the lovely young
+<i>Isabella</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The Lady <i>Abbess</i>, her Aunt, you may believe, was not a little
+proud of the Excellencies and Virtues of her fair <i>Niece</i>, and
+omitted nothing that might adorn her Mind; because, not only of the
+vastness of her Parts and Fame, and the Credit she would do her House,
+by residing there for ever; but also, being very loth to part with her
+considerable Fortune, which she must resign, if she returned into the
+World, she us’d all her Arts and Stratagems to make her become a
+<i>Nun</i>, to which all the fair Sisterhood contributed their Cunning,
+but it was altogether needless; her Inclination, the strictness of her
+Devotion, her early Prayers, and those continual, and innate
+Stedfastness, and Calm, she was Mistress of; her Ignorance of the
+World’s Vanities, and those that uninclos’d young Ladies count Pleasures
+and Diversions, being all unknown to her, she thought there was no Joy
+out of a <i>Nunnery</i>, and no Satisfactions on the other side of a
+<i>Grate</i>.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">268</span>
+<p>The Lady <i>Abbess</i>, seeing, that of her self she yielded faster
+than she could expect; to discharge her Conscience to her Brother, who
+came frequently to visit his Darling <i>Isabella</i>, would very often
+discourse to her of the Pleasures of the World, telling her, how much
+happier she would think her self, to be the Wife of some gallant young
+Cavalier, and to have Coaches and Equipages; to see the World, to behold
+a thousand Rarities she had never seen, to live in Splendor, to eat
+high, and wear magnificent Clothes, to be bow’d to as she pass’d, and
+have a thousand Adorers, to see in time a pretty Offspring, the products
+of Love, that should talk, and look, and delight, as she did, the Heart
+of their Parents; but to all, her Father and the Lady <i>Abbess</i>
+could say of the World, and its Pleasures, <i>Isabella</i> brought a
+thousand Reasons and Arguments, so Pious, so Devout, that the
+<i>Abbess</i> was very well pleased, to find her (purposely weak)
+Propositions so well overthrown; and gives an account of her daily
+Discourses to her Brother, which were no less pleasing to him; and tho’
+<i>Isabella</i> went already dress’d as richly as her Quality deserv’d,
+yet her Father, to try the utmost that the World’s Vanity could do, upon
+her young Heart, orders the most Glorious Clothes should be bought her,
+and that the Lady <i>Abbess</i> should suffer her to go abroad with
+those Ladies of Quality, that were her Relations, and her Mother’s
+Acquaintance; that she should visit and go on the Toore, (that is, the
+Hide Park there) that she should see all that was diverting, to try,
+whether it were not for want of Temptation to Vanity, that made her
+leave the World, and love an inclos’d Life.</p>
+
+<p>As the Count had commanded, all things were performed; and
+<i>Isabella</i> arriving at her Thirteenth Year of Age, and being pretty
+tall of Stature, with the finest Shape that Fancy can create, with all
+the Adornment of a perfect brown-hair’d Beauty, Eyes black and lovely,
+Complexion fair; to a Miracle, all her Features of the rarest
+proportion, the Mouth red, the Teeth white, and a thousand Graces
+<span class = "pagenum">269</span>
+in her Meen and Air; she came no sooner abroad, but she had a thousand
+Persons fighting for love of her; the Reputation her Wit had acquir’d,
+got her Adorers without seeing her, but when they saw her, they found
+themselves conquer’d and undone; all were glad she was come into the
+World, of whom they had heard so much, and all the Youth of the Town
+dress’d only for <i>Isabella de Valerie</i>, <ins class = "correction"
+title = "text reads ‘the’">that</ins> rose like a new Star that Eclips’d
+all the rest, and which set the World a-gazing. Some hop’d, and some
+despair’d, but all lov’d, while <i>Isabella</i> regarded not their Eyes,
+their distant darling Looks of Love, and their signs of Adoration; she
+was civil and affable to all, but so reserv’d, that none durst tell her
+his Passion, or name that strange and abhorr’d thing, <i>Love</i>, to
+her; the Relations with whom she went abroad every day, were fein to
+force her out, and when she went, ’twas the motive of Civility, and not
+Satisfaction, that made her go; whatever she saw, she beheld with no
+admiration, and nothing created wonder in her, tho’ never so strange and
+Novel. She survey’d all things with an indifference, that tho’ it was
+not sullen, was far from Transport, so that her evenness of Mind was
+infinitely admir’d and prais’d. And now it was, that, young as she was,
+her Conduct and Discretion appear’d equal to her Wit and Beauty, and she
+encreas’d daily in Reputation, insomuch, that the Parents of abundance
+of young Noble Men, made it their business to endeavour to marry their
+Sons to so admirable and noble a Maid, and one, whose Virtues were the
+Discourse of all the World; the <i>Father</i>, the Lady <i>Abbess</i>,
+and those who had her abroad, were solicited to make an Alliance; for
+the Father, he would give no answer, but left it to the discretion of
+<i>Isabella</i>, who could not be persuaded to hear any thing of that
+nature; so that for a long time she refus’d her company to all those,
+who propos’d any thing of Marriage to her; she said, she had seen
+nothing in the World that was worth her Care, or the venturing the
+losing of
+<span class = "pagenum">270</span>
+Heaven for, and therefore was resolv’d to dedicate her self to that;
+that the more she saw of the World, the worse she lik’d it, and pity’d
+the Wretches that were condemn’d to it; that she had consider’d it, and
+found no one Inclination that forbad her immediate Entrance into a
+Religious Life; to which, her Father, after using all the Arguments he
+could, to make her take good heed of what she went about, to consider it
+well; and had urg’d all the Inconveniencies of Severe Life, Watchings,
+Midnight Risings in all Weathers and Seasons to Prayers, hard Lodging,
+course Diet, and homely Habit, with a thousand other things of Labour
+and Work us’d among the <i>Nuns</i>; and finding her still resolv’d and
+inflexible to all contrary persuasions, he consented, kiss’d her, and
+told her, She had argu’d according to the wish of his Soul, and that he
+never believ’d himself truly happy, till this moment that he was
+assur’d, she would become a Religious.</p>
+
+<p>This News, to the Heart-breaking of a thousand Lovers, was spread all
+over the Town, and there was nothing but Songs of Complaint, and of her
+retiring, after she had shewn her self to the World, and vanquish’d so
+many Hearts; all Wits were at work on this Cruel Subject, and one begat
+another, as is usual in such Affairs. Amongst the number of these
+Lovers, there was a young Gentleman, Nobly born, his name was
+<i>Villenoys</i>, who was admirably made, and very handsom, had
+travell’d and accomplish’d himself, as much as was possible for one so
+young to do; he was about Eighteen, and was going to the Siege of
+<i>Candia</i>, in a very good Equipage, but, overtaken by his Fate,
+surpris’d in his way to Glory, he stopt at <i>Ipers</i>, so fell most
+passionately in love with this Maid of Immortal Fame; but being defeated
+in his hopes by this News, was the Man that made the softest Complaints
+to this fair Beauty, and whose violence of Passion oppress’d him to that
+degree, that he was the only Lover, who durst himself tell her, he was
+in love with her; he writ Billets so soft
+<span class = "pagenum">271</span>
+and tender, that she had, of all her Lovers, most compassion for
+<i>Villenoys</i>, and dain’d several times, in pity of him, to send him
+answers to his Letters, but they were such, as absolutely forbad him to
+love her; such as incited him to follow Glory, the Mistress that could
+noblest reward him; and that, for her part, her Prayers should always
+be, that he might be victorious, and the Darling of that Fortune he was
+going to court; and that she, for her part, had fix’d her Mind on
+Heaven, and no Earthly Thought should bring it down; but she should ever
+retain for him all Sisterly Respect, and begg’d, in her Solitudes, to
+hear, whether her Prayers had prov’d effectual or not, and if Fortune
+were so kind to him, as she should perpetually wish.</p>
+
+<p>When <i>Villenoys</i> found she was resolv’d, he design’d to persue
+his Journy, but could not leave the Town, till he had seen the fatal
+Ceremony of <i>Isabella’s</i> being made a <i>Nun</i>, which was every
+day expected; and while he stay’d, he could not forbear writing daily to
+her, but receiv’d no more Answers from her, she already accusing her
+self of having done too much, for a Maid in her Circumstances; but she
+confess’d, of all she had seen, she lik’d <i>Villenoys</i> the best; and
+if she ever could have lov’d, she believ’d it would have been
+<i>Villenoys</i>, for he had all the good Qualities, and grace, that
+could render him agreeable to the Fair; besides, that he was only Son to
+a very rich and noble Parent, and one that might very well presume to
+lay claim to a Maid of <i>Isabella’s</i> Beauty and Fortune.</p>
+
+<p>As the time approach’d, when he must eternally lose all hope, by
+<i>Isabella’s</i> taking Orders, he found himself less able to bear the
+Efforts of that Despair it possess’d him with, he languished with the
+thought, so that it was visible to all his Friends, the decays it
+wrought on his Beauty and Gaiety: So that he fell at last into a Feaver;
+and ’twas the whole Discourse of the Town, That <i>Villenoys</i> was
+dying for the Fair <i>Isabella</i>; his Relations, being all of Quality,
+were extreamly afflicted at his Misfortune, and joyn’d their
+<span class = "pagenum">272</span>
+Interests yet, to dissuade this fair young Victoress from an act so
+cruel, as to inclose herself in a <i>Nunnery</i>, while the finest of
+all the youths of Quality was dying for her, and ask’d her, If it would
+not be more acceptable to Heaven to save a Life, and perhaps a Soul,
+than to go and expose her own to a thousand Tortures? They assur’d her,
+<i>Villenoys</i> was dying, and dying Adoring her; that nothing could
+save his Life, but her kind Eyes turn’d upon the fainting Lover;
+a&nbsp;Lover, that could breath nothing, but her Name in Sighs; and find
+satisfaction in nothing, but weeping and crying out, ‘I&nbsp;dye for
+Isabella!’ This Discourse fetch’d abundance of Tears from the fair Eyes
+of this tender Maid; but, at the same time, she besought them to
+believe, these Tears ought not to give them hope, she should ever yield
+to save his Life, by quitting her Resolution, of becoming a <i>Nun</i>;
+but, on the contrary, they were Tears, that only bewail’d her own
+Misfortune, in having been the occasion of the death of any Man,
+especially, a&nbsp;Man, who had so many Excellencies, as might have
+render’d him entirely Happy and Glorious for a long race of Years, had
+it not been his ill fortune to have seen her unlucky Face. She believ’d,
+it was for her Sins of Curiosity, and going beyond the Walls of the
+Monastery, to wander after the Vanities of the foolish World, that had
+occasion’d this Misfortune to the young Count of <i>Villenoys</i>, and
+she would put a severe Penance on her Body, for the Mischiefs her Eyes
+had done him; she fears she might, by something in her looks, have
+intic’d his Heart, for she own’d she saw him, with wonder at his Beauty,
+and much more she admir’d him, when she found the Beauties of his Mind;
+she confess’d, she had given him hope, by answering his Letters; and
+that when she found her Heart grow a little more than usually tender,
+when she thought on him, she believ’d it a Crime, that ought to be
+check’d by a Virtue, such as she pretended to profess, and hop’d she
+should ever carry to her Grave; and she desired his Relations to implore
+<span class = "pagenum">273</span>
+him, in her Name, to rest contented, in knowing he was the first, and
+should be the last, that should ever make an impression on her Heart;
+that what she had conceiv’d there, for him, should remain with her to
+her dying day, and that she besought him to live, that she might see, he
+both deserv’d this Esteem she had for him, and to repay it her,
+otherwise he would dye in her debt, and make her Life ever after
+reposeless.</p>
+
+<p>This being all they could get from her, they return’d with Looks that
+told their Message; however, they render’d those soft things
+<i>Isabella</i> had said, in so moving a manner, as fail’d not to
+please, and while he remain’d in this condition, the Ceremonies were
+compleated, of making <i>Isabella</i> a <i>Nun</i>; which was a Secret
+to none but <i>Villenoys</i>, and from him it was carefully conceal’d,
+so that in a little time he recover’d his lost health, at least, so
+well, as to support the fatal News, and upon the first hearing it, he
+made ready his Equipage, and departed immediately for <i>Candia</i>;
+where he behav’d himself very gallantly, under the Command of the Duke
+De <i>Beaufort</i>, and, with him, return’d to <i>France</i>, after the
+loss of that noble City to the <i>Turks</i>.</p>
+
+<p>In all the time of his absence, that he might the sooner establish
+his Repose, he forbore sending to the fair Cruel <i>Nun</i>, and she
+heard no more of <i>Villenoys</i> in above two years; so that giving her
+self wholly up to Devotion, there was never seen any one, who led so
+Austere and Pious a Life, as this young <i>Votress</i>; she was a Saint
+in the Chapel, and an Angel at the <i>Grate</i>: She there laid by all
+her severe Looks, and mortify’d Discourse, and being at perfect peace
+and tranquility within, she was outwardly all gay, sprightly, and
+entertaining, being satisfy’d, no Sights, no Freedoms, could give any
+temptations to worldly desires; she gave a loose to all that was modest,
+and that Virtue and Honour would permit, and was the most charming
+Conversation that ever was admir’d; and the whole World
+<span class = "pagenum">274</span>
+that pass’d through <i>Iper</i>; of Strangers, came directed and
+recommended to the lovely <i>Isabella</i>; I mean, those of Quality: But
+however Diverting she was at the <i>Grate</i>, she was most exemplary
+Devout in the Cloister, doing more Penance, and imposing a more rigid
+Severity and Task on her self, than was requir’d, giving such rare
+Examples to all the <i>Nuns</i> that were less Devout, that her Life was
+a Proverb, and a President, and when they would express a very Holy
+Woman indeed, they would say, ‘She was a very <i>ISABELLA</i>.’</p>
+
+<p>There was in this <i>Nunnery</i>, a young <i>Nun</i>, call’d, Sister
+<i>Katteriena</i>, Daughter to the Grave <i>Vanhenault</i>, that is to
+say, an Earl, who liv’d about six Miles from the Town, in a noble
+<i>Villa</i>; this Sister <i>Katteriena</i> was not only a very
+beautiful Maid, but very witty, and had all the good qualities to make
+her be belov’d, and had most wonderfully gain’d upon the Heart of the
+fair <i>Isabella</i>, she was her Chamber-Fellow and Companion in all
+her Devotions and Diversions, so that where one was, there was the
+other, and they never went but together to the <i>Grate</i>, to the
+Garden, or to any place, whither their <i>Affairs</i> call’d either.
+This young <i>Katteriena</i> had a Brother, who lov’d her intirely, and
+came every day to see her, he was about twenty Years of Age, rather tall
+than middle Statur’d, his Hair and Eyes brown, but his Face exceeding
+beautiful, adorn’d with a thousand Graces, and the most nobly and
+exactly made, that ’twas possible for Nature to form; to the Fineness
+and Charms of his Person, he had an Air in his Meen and Dressing, so
+very agreeable, besides rich, that ’twas impossible to look on him,
+without wishing him happy, because he did so absolutely merit being so.
+His Wit and his Manner was so perfectly Obliging, a&nbsp;Goodness and
+Generosity so Sincere and Gallant, that it would even have aton’d for
+Ugliness. As he was eldest Son to so great a Father, he was kept at
+home, while the rest of his Brothers were employ’d in Wars abroad; this
+made
+<span class = "pagenum">275</span>
+him of a melancholy Temper, and fit for soft Impressions; he was very
+Bookish, and had the best Tutors that could be got, for Learning and
+Languages, and all that could compleat a Man; but was unus’d to Action,
+and of a temper Lazy, and given to Repose, so that his Father could
+hardly ever get him to use any Exercise, or so much as ride abroad,
+which he would call, Losing Time from his Studies: He car’d not for the
+Conversation of Men, because he lov’d not Debauch, as they usually did;
+so that for Exercise, more than any Design, he came on Horseback every
+day to <i>Iper</i> to the <i>Monastery</i>, and would sit at the
+<i>Grate</i>, entertaining his Sister the most part of the Afternoon,
+and, in the Evening, retire; he had often seen and convers’d with the
+lovely <i>Isabella</i>, and found from the first sight of her, he had
+more Esteem for her, than any other of her Sex: But as Love very rarely
+takes Birth without Hope; so he never believ’d that the Pleasure he took
+in beholding her, and in discoursing with her, was Love, because he
+regarded her, as a Thing consecrate to Heaven, and never so much as
+thought to wish, she were a Mortal fit for his Addresses; yet he found
+himself more and more fill’d with Reflections on her which was not usual
+with him; he found she grew upon his Memory, and oftner came there, than
+he us’d to do, that he lov’d his Studies less, and going to <i>Iper</i>
+more; and, that every time he went, he found a new Joy at his Heart that
+pleas’d him; he found, he could not get himself from the <i>Grate</i>,
+without Pain; nor part from the sight of that all-charming Object,
+without Sighs; and if, while he was there, any persons came to visit
+her, whose Quality she could not refuse the honour of her sight to, he
+would blush, and pant with uneasiness, especially, if they were handsom,
+and fit to make Impressions: And he would check this Uneasiness in
+himself, and ask his Heart, what it meant, by rising and beating in
+those Moments, and strive to assume an Indifferency in vain, and depart
+dissatisfy’d, and out of humour.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">276</span>
+<p>On the other side, <i>Isabella</i> was not so Gay as she us’d to be,
+but, on the sudden, retir’d her self more from the <i>Grate</i> than she
+us’d to do, refus’d to receive Visits every day, and her Complexion grew
+a little pale and languid; she was observ’d not to sleep, or eat, as she
+us’d to do, nor exercise in those little Plays they made, and diverted
+themselves with, now and then; she was heard to sigh often, and it
+became the Discourse of the whole House, that she was much alter’d: The
+Lady <i>Abbess</i>, who lov’d her with a most tender Passion, was
+infinitely concern’d at this Change, and endeavour’d to find out the
+Cause, and ’twas generally believ’d, she was too Devout, for now she
+redoubled her Austerity; and in cold Winter Nights, of Frost and Snow,
+would be up at all Hours, and lying upon the cold Stones, before the
+Altar, prostrate at Prayers: So that she receiv’d Orders from the Lady
+<i>Abbess</i>, not to harass her self so very much, but to have a care
+of her Health, as well as her Soul; but she regarded not these
+Admonitions, tho’ even persuaded daily by her <i>Katteriena</i>, whom
+she lov’d every day more and more.</p>
+
+<p>But, one Night, when they were retir’d to their Chamber, amongst a
+thousand things that they spoke of, to pass away a tedious Evening, they
+talk’d of Pictures and Likenesses, and <i>Katteriena</i> told
+<i>Isabella</i>, that before she was a <i>Nun</i>, in her more happy
+days, she was so like her Brother <i>Bernardo Henault</i>, (who was the
+same that visited them every day) that she would, in Men’s Clothes,
+undertake, she should not have known one from t’other, and fetching out
+his <i>Picture</i>, she had in a Dressing-Box, she threw it to
+<i>Isabella</i>, who, at the first sight of it, turns as pale as Ashes,
+and, being ready to swound, she bid her take it away, and could not, for
+her Soul, hide the sudden surprise the <i>Picture</i> brought:
+<i>Katteriena</i> had too much Wit, not to make a just Interpretation of
+this Change, and (as&nbsp;a Woman) was naturally curious to pry farther,
+<span class = "pagenum">277</span>
+tho’ Discretion should have made her been silent, for Talking, in such
+cases, does but make the Wound rage the more; ‘Why, my dear Sister,
+(said <i>Katteriena</i>) is the likeness of my Brother so offensive to
+you?’ <i>Isabella</i> found by this, she had discover’d too much, and
+that Thought put her by all power of excusing it; she was confounded
+with Shame, and the more she strove to hide it, the more it disorder’d
+her; so that she (blushing extremely) hung down her Head, sigh’d, and
+confess’d all by her Looks. At last, after a considering Pause, she
+cry’d, ‘My dearest Sister, I&nbsp;do confess, I&nbsp;was surpriz’d at
+the sight of Monsieur <i>Henault</i>, and much more than ever you have
+observ’d me to be at the sight of his Person, because there is scarce a
+day wherein I do not see that, and know beforehand I shall see him;
+I&nbsp;am prepar’d for the Encounter, and have lessen’d my Concern, or
+rather Confusion, by that time I come to the <i>Grate</i>, so much
+Mistress I am of my Passions, when they give me warning of their
+approach, and sure I can withstand the greatest assaults of Fate, if I
+can but foresee it; but if it surprize me, I&nbsp;find I am as feeble a
+Woman, as the most unresolv’d; you did not tell me, you had this
+Picture, nor say, you would shew me such a Picture; but when I least
+expect to see that Face, you shew it me, even in my Chamber.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Ah, my dear Sister! (reply’d <i>Katteriena</i>) I believe, that
+Paleness, and those Blushes, proceed from some other cause, than the
+Nicety of seeing the Picture of a Man in your Chamber’:</p>
+
+<p>‘You have too much Wit, (reply’d <i>Isabella</i>) to be impos’d on by
+such an Excuse, if I were so silly to make it; but oh! my dear Sister!
+it was in my Thoughts to deceive you; could I have concealed my Pain and
+Sufferings, you should never have known them; but since I find it
+impossible, and that I am too sincere to make use of Fraud in any thing,
+’tis fit I tell you, from
+<span class = "pagenum">278</span>
+what cause my change of Colour proceeds, and to own to you, I&nbsp;fear,
+’tis Love, if ever therefore, oh gentle pitying Maid! thou wert a Lover?
+If ever thy tender Heart were touch’d with that Passion? Inform me, oh!
+inform me, of the nature of that cruel Disease, and how thou found’st a
+Cure?’</p>
+
+<p>While she was speaking these words, she threw her Arms about the Neck
+of the fair <i>Katteriena</i>, and bath’d her Bosom (where she hid her
+Face) with a shower of Tears; <i>Katteriena</i>, embracing her with all
+the fondness of a dear Lover, told her, with a Sigh, that she could deny
+her nothing, and therefore confess’d to her, she had been a Lover, and
+that was the occasion of her being made a <i>Nun</i>, her Father finding
+out the Intrigue, which fatally happened to be with his own Page,
+a&nbsp;Youth of extraordinary Beauty. ‘I&nbsp;was but Young, (said she)
+about Thirteen, and knew not what to call the new-known Pleasure that I
+felt; when e’re I look’d upon the young <i>Arnaldo</i>, my Heart would
+heave, when e’re he came in view, and my disorder’d Breath came doubly
+from my Bosom; a&nbsp;Shivering seiz’d me, and my Face grew wan; my
+Thought was at a stand, and Sense it self, for that short moment, lost
+its Faculties; But when he touch’d me, oh! no hunted Deer, tir’d with
+his flight, and just secur’d in Shades, pants with a nimbler motion than
+my Heart; at first, I&nbsp;thought the Youth had had some Magick Art, to
+make one faint and tremble at his touches; but he himself, when I
+accus’d his Cruelty, told me, he had no Art, but awful Passion, and
+vow’d that when I touch’d him, he was so; so trembling, so surprized, so
+charm’d, so pleas’d. When he was present, nothing could displease me,
+but when he parted from me; then ’twas rather a soft silent Grief, that
+eas’d itself by sighing, and by hoping, that some kind moment would
+restore my joy. When he was absent, nothing could divert me, howe’re I
+strove, howe’re I toyl’d for Mirth; no Smile, no Joy, dwelt in my Heart
+<span class = "pagenum">279</span>
+or Eyes; I&nbsp;could not feign, so very well I lov’d, impatient in his
+absence, I&nbsp;would count the tedious parting Hours, and pass them off
+like useless Visitants, whom we wish were gon; these are the Hours,
+where Life no business has, at least, a&nbsp;Lover’s Life. But, oh! what
+Minutes seem’d the happy Hours, when on his Eyes I gaz’d, and he on
+mine, and half our Conversation lost in Sighs, Sighs, the soft moving
+Language of a Lover!’</p>
+
+<p>‘No more, no more, (reply’d <i>Isabella</i>, throwing her Arms again
+about the Neck of the transported <i>Katteriena</i>) thou blow’st my
+Flame by thy soft Words, and mak’st me know my Weakness, and my Shame:
+I&nbsp;love! I&nbsp;love! and feel those differing Passions!’&mdash;Then
+pausing a moment, she proceeded,&mdash;‘Yet so didst thou, but hast
+surmounted it. Now thou hast found the Nature of my Pain, oh! tell me
+thy saving Remedy?’ ‘Alas! (reply’d <i>Katteriena</i>) tho’ there’s but
+one Disease, there’s many Remedies: They say, possession’s one, but that
+to me seems a Riddle; Absence, they say, another, and that was mine; for
+<i>Arnaldo</i> having by chance lost one of my Billets, discover’d the
+Amour, and was sent to travel, and my self forc’d into this Monastery,
+where at last, Time convinc’d me, I&nbsp;had lov’d below my Quality, and
+that sham’d me into Holy Orders.’ ‘And is it a Disease, (reply’d
+<i>Isabella</i>) that People often recover?’ ‘Most frequently, (said
+<i>Katteriena</i>) and yet some dye of the Disease, but very rarely.’
+‘Nay then, (said <i>Isabella</i>) I fear, you will find me one of these
+Martyrs; for I have already oppos’d it with the most severe Devotion in
+the World: But all my Prayers are vain, your lovely Brother persues me
+into the greatest Solitude; he meets me at my very Midnight Devotions,
+and interrupts my Prayers; he gives me a thousand Thoughts, that ought
+not to enter into a Soul dedicated to Heaven; he ruins all the Glory I
+have achiev’d, even above my Sex, for Piety of Life, and the Observation
+of all Virtues.
+<span class = "pagenum">280</span>
+Oh <i>Katteriena</i>! he has a Power in his Eyes, that transcends all
+the World besides: And, to shew the weakness of Human Nature, and how
+vain all our Boastings are, he has done that in one fatal Hour, that the
+persuasions of all my Relations and Friends, Glory, Honour, Pleasure,
+and all that can tempt, could not perform in Years; I&nbsp;resisted all
+but <i>Henault’s</i> Eyes, and they were Ordain’d to make me truly
+wretched; But yet with thy Assistance, and a Resolution to see him no
+more, and my perpetual Trust in Heaven, I&nbsp;may, perhaps, overcome
+this Tyrant of my Soul, who, I&nbsp;thought, had never enter’d into holy
+Houses, or mix’d his Devotions and Worship with the true Religion; but,
+oh! no Cells, no Cloysters, no Hermitages, are secur’d from his
+Efforts.’</p>
+
+<p>This Discourse she ended with abundance of Tears, and it was
+resolv’d, since she was devoted for ever to a Holy Life, That it was
+best for her to make it as easy to her as was possible; in order to it,
+and the banishing this fond and useless Passion from her Heart, it was
+very necessary, she should see <i>Henault</i> no more: At first,
+<i>Isabella</i> was afraid, that, in refusing to see him, he might
+mistrust her Passion; but <i>Katteriena</i> who was both Pious and
+Discreet, and endeavour’d truly to cure her of so violent a Disease,
+which must, she knew, either end in her death or destruction, told her,
+She would take care of that matter, that it should not blemish her
+Honour; and so leaving her a while, after they had resolved on this, she
+left her in a thousand Confusions, she was now another Woman than what
+she had hitherto been; she was quite alter’d in every Sentiment, thought
+and Notion; she now repented, she had promis’d not to see
+<i>Henault</i>; she trembled and even fainted, for fear she should see
+him no more; she was not able to bear that thought, it made her rage
+within, like one possest, and all her Virtue could not calm her; yet
+since her word was past, and, as she was, she could not, without great
+Scandal, break it in that point, she
+<span class = "pagenum">281</span>
+resolv’d to dye a thousand Deaths, rather than not perform her Promise
+made to <i>Katteriena</i>; but ’tis not to be express’d what she
+endur’d; what Fits, Pains, and Convulsions, she sustain’d; and how much
+ado she had to dissemble to Dame <i>Katteriena</i>, who soon return’d to
+the afflicted Maid; the next day, about the time that <i>Henault</i> was
+to come, as he usually did, about two or three a Clock after Noon, ’tis
+impossible to express the uneasiness of <i>Isabella</i>; she ask’d,
+a&nbsp;thousand times, ‘What, is not your Brother come?’ When Dame
+<i>Katteriena</i> would reply, ‘Why do you ask?’ She would say, ‘Because
+I would be sure not to see him’: ‘You need not fear, Madam, (reply’d
+<i>Katteriena</i>) for you shall keep your Chamber.’ She need not have
+urg’d that, for <i>Isabella</i> was very ill without knowing it, and in
+a Feaver.</p>
+
+<p>At last, one of the <i>Nuns</i> came up, and told Dame
+<i>Katteriena</i>, that her Brother was at the <i>Grate</i>, and she
+desired, he should be bid come about to the Private <i>Grate</i> above
+stairs, which he did, and she went to him, leaving <i>Isabella</i> even
+dead on the Bed, at the very name of <i>Henault</i>: But the more she
+conceal’d her Flame, the more violently it rag’d, which she strove in
+vain by Prayers, and those Recourses of Solitude to lessen; all this did
+but augment the Pain, and was Oyl to the Fire, so that she now could
+hope, that nothing but Death would put an end to her Griefs, and her
+Infamy. She was eternally thinking on him, how handsome his Face, how
+delicate every Feature, how charming his Air, how graceful his Meen, how
+soft and good his Disposition, and how witty and entertaining his
+Conversation. She now fancy’d, she was at the <i>Grate</i>, talking to
+him as she us’d to be, and blest those happy Hours she past then, and
+bewail’d her Misfortune, that she is no more destin’d to be so Happy,
+then gives a loose to Grief; Griefs, at which, no Mortals, but
+Despairing Lovers, can guess, or how tormenting they are; where the most
+easie Moments are, those, wherein one resolves
+<span class = "pagenum">282</span>
+to kill ones self, and the happiest Thought is Damnation; but from these
+Imaginations, she endeavours to fly, all frighted with horror; but,
+alas! whither would she fly, but to a Life more full of horror? She
+considers well, she cannot bear Despairing Love, and finds it impossible
+to cure her Despair; she cannot fly from the Thoughts of the Charming
+<i>Henault</i>, and ’tis impossible to quit ’em; and, at this rate, she
+found, Life could not long support it self, but would either reduce her
+to Madness, and so render her an hated Object of Scorn to the Censuring
+World, or force her Hand to commit a Murder upon her self. This she had
+found, this she had well consider’d, nor could her fervent and continual
+Prayers, her nightly Watchings, her Mortifications on the cold Marble in
+long Winter Season, and all her Acts of Devotion abate one spark of this
+shameful Feaver of Love, that was destroying her within. When she had
+rag’d and struggled with this unruly Passion, ’till she was quite tir’d
+and breathless, finding all her force in vain, she fill’d her fancy with
+a thousand charming <i>Ideas</i> of the lovely <i>Henault</i>, and, in
+that soft fit, had a mind to satisfy her panting Heart, and give it one
+Joy more, by beholding the Lord of its Desires, and the Author of its
+Pains: Pleas’d, yet trembling, at this Resolve, she rose from the Bed
+where she was laid, and softly advanc’d to the Stair-Case, from whence
+there open’d that Room where Dame <i>Katteriena</i> was, and where there
+was a private <i>Grate</i>, at which, she was entertaining her
+<i>Brother</i>; they were earnest in Discourse, and so loud, that
+<i>Isabella</i> could easily hear all they said, and the first words
+were from <i>Katteriena</i>, who, in a sort of Anger, cry’d, ‘Urge me no
+more! My Virtue is too nice, to become an Advocate for a Passion, that
+can tend to nothing but your Ruin; for, suppose I should tell the fair
+<i>Isabella</i>, you dye for her, what can it avail you? What hope can
+any Man have, to move the Heart of a Virgin, so averse to Love?
+A&nbsp;Virgin, whose Modesty and Virtue is so
+<span class = "pagenum">283</span>
+very curious, it would fly the very word, Love, as some monstrous
+Witchcraft, or the foulest of Sins, who would loath me for bringing so
+lewd a Message, and banish you her Sight, as the Object of her Hate and
+Scorn; is it unknown to you, how many of the noblest Youths of
+<i>Flanders</i> have address’d themselves to her in vain, when yet she
+was in the World? Have you been ignorant, how the young Count de
+<i>Villenoys</i> languished, in vain, almost to Death for her? And, that
+no Persuasions, no Attractions in him, no wordly Advantages, or all his
+Pleadings, who had a Wit and Spirit capable of prevailing on any Heart,
+less severe and harsh, than hers? Do you not know, that all was lost on
+this insensible fair one, even when she was a proper Object for the
+Adoration of the Young and Amorous? And can you hope, now she has so
+entirely wedded her future days to Devotion, and given all to Heaven;
+nay, lives a Life here more like a Saint, than a Woman; rather an Angel,
+than a mortal Creature? Do you imagin, with any Rhetorick you can
+deliver, now to turn the Heart, and whole Nature, of this Divine Maid,
+to consider your Earthly Passion? No, ’tis fondness, and an injury to
+her Virtue, to harbour such a Thought; quit it, quit it, my dear
+Brother! before it ruin your Repose.’ ‘Ah, Sister! (replied the dejected
+<i>Henault</i>) your Counsel comes too late, and your Reasons are of too
+feeble force, to rebate those Arrows, the Charming <i>Isabella’s</i>
+Eyes have fix’d in my Heart and Soul; and I am undone, unless she know
+my Pain, which I shall dye, before I shall ever dare mention to her; but
+you, young Maids, have a thousand Familiarities together, can jest, and
+play, and say a thousand things between Railery and Earnest, that may
+first hint what you would deliver, and insinuate into each others Hearts
+a kind of Curiosity to know more; for naturally, (my&nbsp;dear Sister)
+Maids, are curious and vain; and however Divine the Mind of the fair
+<i>Isabella</i> may be, it bears the Tincture still of Mortal
+Woman.’</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">284</span>
+<p>‘Suppose this true, how could this Mortal part about her Advantage
+you, (said <i>Katteriena</i>) all that you can expect from this
+Discovery, (if&nbsp;she should be content to hear it, and to return you
+pity) would be, to make her wretched, like your self? What farther can
+you hope?’ ‘Oh! talk not, (replied <i>Henault</i>) of so much Happiness!
+I&nbsp;do not expect to be so blest, that she should pity me, or love to
+a degree of Inquietude; ’tis sufficient, for the ease of my Heart, that
+she know its Pains, and what it suffers for her; that she would give my
+Eyes leave to gaze upon her, and my Heart to vent a Sigh now and then;
+and, when I dare, to give me leave to speak, and tell her of my Passion;
+This, this, is all, my Sister.’ And, at that word, the Tears glided down
+his Cheeks, and he declin’d his Eyes, and set a Look so charming, and so
+sad, that <i>Isabella</i>, whose Eyes were fix’d upon him, was a
+thousand times ready to throw her self into the Room, and to have made a
+Confession, how sensible she was of all she had heard and seen: But,
+with much ado, she contain’d and satisfy’d her self, with knowing, that
+she was ador’d by him whom she ador’d, and, with Prudence that is
+natural to her, she withdrew, and waited with patience the event of
+their Discourse. She impatiently long’d to know, how <i>Katteriena</i>
+would manage this Secret her Brother had given her, and was pleas’d,
+that the Friendship and Prudence of that Maid had conceal’d her Passion
+from her Brother; and now contented and joyful beyond imagination, to
+find her self belov’d, she knew she could dissemble her own Passion and
+make him the first Aggressor; the first that lov’d, or at least, that
+should seem to do so. This Thought restores her so great a part of her
+Peace of Mind, that she resolv’d to see him, and to dissemble with
+<i>Katteriena</i> so far, as to make her believe, she had subdu’d that
+Passion, she was really asham’d to own; she now, with her Woman’s Skill,
+begins to practise an Art she never before understood, and has recourse
+to
+<span class = "pagenum">285</span>
+Cunning, and resolves to seem to reassume her former Repose: But hearing
+<i>Katteriena</i> approach, she laid her self again on her Bed, where
+she had left her, but compos’d her Face to more chearfulness, and put on
+a Resolution that indeed deceiv’d the Sister, who was extreamly pleased,
+she said, to see her look so well: When <i>Isabella</i> reply’d, ‘Yes,
+I&nbsp;am another Woman now; I&nbsp;hope Heaven has heard, and granted,
+my long and humble Supplications, and driven from my Heart this
+tormenting God, that has so long disturb’d my purer Thoughts.’ ‘And are
+you sure, (said Dame <i>Katteriena</i>) that this wanton Deity is
+repell’d by the noble force of your Resolutions? Is he never to return?’
+‘No, (replied <i>Isabella</i>) never to my Heart.’ ‘Yes, (said
+<i>Katteriena</i>) if you should see the lovely Murderer of your Repose,
+your Wound would bleed anew.’ At this, <i>Isabella</i> smiling with a
+little Disdain, reply’d, ‘Because you once to love, and <i>Henault’s</i>
+Charms defenceless found me, ah! do you think I have no Fortitude? But
+so in Fondness lost, remiss in Virtue, that when I have resolv’d, (and
+see it necessary for my after-Quiet) to want the power of keeping that
+Resolution? No, scorn me, and despise me then, as lost to all the
+Glories of my Sex, and all that Nicety I’ve hitherto preserv’d.’ There
+needed no more from a Maid of <i>Isabella’s</i> Integrity and
+Reputation, to convince any one of the Sincerity of what she said,
+since, in the whole course of her Life, she never could be charg’d with
+an Untruth, or an Equivocation; and <i>Katteriena</i> assur’d her, she
+believ’d her, and was infinitely glad she had vanquish’d a Passion, that
+would have prov’d destructive to her Repose: <i>Isabella</i> reply’d,
+She had not altogether vanquish’d her Passion, she did not boast of so
+absolute a power over her soft Nature, but had resolv’d things great,
+and Time would work the Cure; that she hop’d, <i>Katteriena</i> would
+make such Excuses to her Brother, for her not appearing at the
+<i>Grate</i> so gay and entertaining as she us’d, and, by a little
+absence, she should retrieve the Liberty
+<span class = "pagenum">286</span>
+she had lost: But she desir’d, such Excuses might be made for her, that
+young <i>Henault</i> might not perceive the Reason. At the naming him,
+she had much ado not to shew some Concern extraordinary, and
+<i>Katteriena</i> assur’d her, She had now a very good Excuse to keep
+from the <i>Grate</i>, when he was at it; ‘For, (said she) now you have
+resolv’d, I&nbsp;may tell you, he is dying for you, raving in Love, and
+has this day made me promise to him, to give you some account of his
+Passion, and to make you sensible of his Languishment: I&nbsp;had not
+told you this, (reply’d <i>Katteriena</i>) but that I believe you
+fortify’d with brave Resolution and Virtue, and that this knowledge will
+rather put you more upon your Guard, than you were before.’ While she
+spoke, she fixed her Eyes on <i>Isabella</i>, to see what alteration it
+would make in her Heart and Looks; but the Master-piece of this young
+Maid’s Art was shewn in this minute, for she commanded her self so well,
+that her very Looks dissembled and shew’d no concern at a Relation, that
+made her Soul dance with Joy; but it was, what she was prepar’d for, or
+else I question her Fortitude. But, with a Calmness, which absolutely
+subdu’d <i>Katteriena</i>, she reply’d, ‘I&nbsp;am almost glad he has
+confess’d a Passion for me, and you shall confess to him, you told me of
+it, and that I absent my self from the <i>Grate</i>, on purpose to avoid
+the sight of a Man, who durst love me, and confess it; and I assure you,
+my dear Sister! (continued she, dissembling) You could not have advanc’d
+my Cure by a more effectual way, than telling me of his Presumption.’ At
+that word, <i>Katteriena</i> joyfully related to her all that had pass’d
+between young <i>Henault</i> and her self, and how he implor’d her Aid
+in this Amour; at the end of which Relation, <i>Isabella</i> smil’d, and
+carelesly reply’d, ‘I&nbsp;pity him’: And so going to their Devotion,
+they had no more Discourse of the Lover.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time, young <i>Henault</i> was a little satisfy’d, to
+know, his Sister would discover his Passion to the lovely
+<span class = "pagenum">287</span>
+<i>Isabella</i>; and though he dreaded the return, he was pleas’d that
+she should know, she had a Lover that ador’d her, though even without
+hope; for though the thought of possessing <i>Isabella</i>, was the most
+ravishing that could be; yet he had a dread upon him, when he thought of
+it, for he could not hope to accomplish that, without Sacrilege; and he
+was a young Man, very Devout, and even bigotted in Religion; and would
+often question and debate within himself, that, if it were possible, he
+should come to be belov’d by this Fair Creature, and that it were
+possible for her, to grant all that Youth in Love could require, whether
+he should receive the Blessing offer’d? And though he ador’d the Maid,
+whether he should not abhor the <i>Nun</i> in his Embraces? ’Twas an
+undetermin’d Thought, that chill’d his Fire as often as it approach’d;
+but he had too many that rekindled it again with the greater Flame and
+Ardor.</p>
+
+<p>His impatience to know, what Success <i>Katteriena</i> had, with the
+Relation she was to make to <i>Isabella</i> in his behalf, brought him
+early to <i>Iper</i> the next day. He came again to the private
+<i>Grate</i>, where his Sister receiving him, and finding him, with a
+sad and dejected Look, expect what she had to say; she told him, That
+Look well became the News she had for him, it being such, as ought to
+make him, both Griev’d, and Penitent; for, to obey him, she had so
+absolutely displeas’d <i>Isabella</i>, that she was resolv’d never to
+believe her her Friend more, ‘Or to see you, (said she) therefore, as
+you have made me commit a Crime against my Conscience, against my Order,
+against my Friendship, and against my Honour, you ought to do some brave
+thing; take some noble Resolution, worthy of your Courage, to redeem
+all; for your Repose, I&nbsp;promis’d, I&nbsp;would let Isabella know
+you lov’d, and, for the mitigation of my Crime, you ought to let me tell
+her, you have surmounted your Passion, as the last Remedy of Life and
+Fame.’</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">288</span>
+<p>At these her last words, the Tears gush’d from his Eyes, and he was
+able only, a&nbsp;good while, to sigh; at last, cry’d, ‘What! see her no
+more! see the Charming <i>Isabella</i> no more!’ And then vented the
+Grief of his Soul in so passionate a manner, as his Sister had all the
+Compassion imaginable for him, but thought it great Sin and Indiscretion
+to cherish his Flame: So that, after a while, having heard her Counsel,
+he reply’d, ‘And is this all, my Sister, you will do to save a Brother?’
+‘All! (reply’d she) I&nbsp;would not be the occasion of making a
+<i>NUN</i> violate her Vow, to save a Brother’s Life, no, nor my own;
+assure your self of this, and take it as my last Resolution: Therefore,
+if you will be content with the Friendship of this young Lady, and so
+behave your self, that we may find no longer the Lover in the Friend, we
+shall reassume our former Conversation, and live with you, as we ought;
+otherwise, your Presence will continually banish her from the
+<i>Grate</i>, and, in time, make both her you love, and your self,
+a&nbsp;Town Discourse.’</p>
+
+<p>Much more to this purpose she said, to dissuade him, and bid him
+retire, and keep himself from thence, till he could resolve to visit
+them without a Crime; and she protested, if he did not do this, and
+master his foolish Passion, she would let her Father understand his
+Conduct, who was a Man of temper so very precise, that should he
+believe, his Son should have a thought of Love to a Virgin vow’d to
+Heaven, he would abandon him to Shame, and eternal Poverty, by
+disinheriting him of all he could: Therefore, she said, he ought to lay
+all this to his Heart, and weigh it with his unheedy Passion. While the
+Sister talk’d thus wisely, <i>Henault</i> was not without his Thoughts,
+but consider’d as she spoke, but did not consider in the right place; he
+was not considering, how to please a Father, and save an Estate, but how
+to manage the matter so, to establish himself, as he was before with
+<i>Isabella</i>; for he imagin’d, since already she knew his Passion,
+and
+<span class = "pagenum">289</span>
+that if after that she would be prevail’d with to see him, he might,
+some lucky Minute or other, have the pleasure of speaking for himself,
+at least, he should again see and talk to her, which was a joyful
+Thought in the midst of so many dreadful ones: And, as if he had known
+what pass’d in <i>Isabella’s</i> Heart, he, by a strange sympathy, took
+the same measures to deceive <i>Katteriena</i>, a&nbsp;well-meaning
+young Lady, and easily impos’d on from her own Innocence, he resolv’d to
+dissemble Patience, since he must have that Virtue, and own’d, his
+Sister’s Reasons were just, and ought to be persu’d; that she had argu’d
+him into half his Peace, and that he would endeavour to recover the
+rest; that Youth ought to be pardon’d a thousand Failings, and Years
+would reduce him to a condition of laughing at his Follies of Youth, but
+that grave Direction was not yet arriv’d: And so desiring, she would
+pray for his Conversion, and that she would recommend him to the
+Devotions of the Fair <i>Isabella</i>, he took his leave, and came no
+more to the <i>Nunnery</i> in ten Days; in all which time, none but
+Impatient Lovers can guess, what Pain and Languishments <i>Isabella</i>
+suffer’d, not knowing the Cause of his Absence, nor daring to enquire;
+but she bore it out so admirably, that Dame <i>Katteriena</i> never so
+much as suspected she had any Thoughts of that nature that perplex’d
+her, and now believ’d indeed she had conquer’d all her Uneasiness: And
+one day, when <i>Isabella</i> and she were alone together, she ask’d
+that fair Dissembler, if she did not admire at the Conduct and
+Resolution of her Brother? ‘Why!’ (reply’d <i>Isabella</i>
+unconcernedly, while her Heart was fainting within, for fear of ill
+News:) With that, <i>Katteriena</i> told her the last Discourse she had
+with her Brother, and how at last she had persuaded him (for her sake)
+to quit his Passion; and that he had promis’d, he would endeavour to
+surmount it; and that, that was the reason he was absent now, and they
+were to see him no more, till he had made a Conquest over himself. You
+may assure your
+<span class = "pagenum">290</span>
+self, this News was not so welcom to <i>Isabella</i>, as
+<i>Katteriena</i> imagin’d; yet still she dissembled, with a force,
+beyond what the most cunning Practitioner could have shewn, and carry’d
+her self before People, as if no Pressures had lain upon her Heart; but
+when alone retir’d, in order to her Devotion, she would vent her Griefs
+in the most deplorable manner, that a distress’d distracted Maid could
+do, and which, in spite of all her severe Penances, she found no
+abatement&nbsp;of.</p>
+
+<p>At last <i>Henault</i> came again to the <i>Monastery</i>, and, with
+a Look as gay as he could possibly assume, he saw his Sister, and told
+her, He had gain’d an absolute Victory over his Heart; and desir’d, he
+might see <i>Isabella</i>, only to convince, both her, and
+<i>Katteriena</i>, that he was no longer a Lover of that fair Creature,
+that had so lately charm’d him; that he had set Five thousand Pounds a
+Year, against a fruitless Passion, and found the solid Gold much the
+heavier in the Scale: And he smil’d, and talk’d the whole Day of
+indifferent things, with his Sister, and ask’d no more for
+<i>Isabella</i>; nor did <i>Isabella</i> look, or ask, after him, but in
+her Heart. Two Months pass’d in this Indifference, till it was taken
+notice of, that Sister <i>Isabella</i> came not to the <i>Grate</i>,
+when <i>Henault</i> was there, as she us’d to do; this being spoken to
+Dame <i>Katteriena</i>, she told it to <i>Isabella</i>, and said, ‘The
+<i>NUNS</i> would believe, there was some Cause for her Absence, if she
+did not appear again’: That if she could trust her Heart, she was sure
+she could trust her Brother, for he thought no more of her, she was
+confident; this, in lieu of pleasing, was a Dagger to the Heart of
+<i>Isabella</i>, who thought it time to retrieve the flying Lover, and
+therefore told <i>Katteriena</i>, She would the next Day entertain at
+the Low <i>Grate</i>, as she was wont to do, and accordingly, as soon as
+any People of Quality came, she appear’d there, where she had not been
+two Minutes, but she saw the lovely <i>Henault</i>, and it was well for
+both, that People were in the Room, they had else both sufficiently
+discover’d their
+<span class = "pagenum">291</span>
+Inclinations, or rather their not to be conceal’d Passions; after the
+General Conversation was over, by the going away of the Gentlemen that
+were at the <i>Grate</i>, <i>Katteriena</i> being employ’d elsewhere,
+<i>Isabella</i> was at last left alone with <i>Henault</i>; but who can
+guess the Confusion of these two Lovers, who wish’d, yet fear’d, to know
+each others Thoughts? She trembling with a dismal Apprehension, that he
+lov’d no more; and he almost dying with fear, she should Reproach or
+Upbraid him with his Presumption; so that both being possess’d with
+equal Sentiments of Love, Fear, and Shame, they both stood fix’d with
+dejected Looks and Hearts, that heav’d with stifled Sighs. At last,
+<i>Isabella</i>, the softer and tender-hearted of the two, tho’ not the
+most a Lover perhaps, not being able to contain her Love any longer
+within the bounds of Dissimulation or Discretion, being by Nature
+innocent, burst out into Tears, and all fainting with pressing Thoughts
+within, she fell languishly into a Chair that stood there, while the
+distracted <i>Henault</i>, who could not come to her Assistance, and
+finding Marks of Love, rather than Anger or Disdain, in that Confusion
+of <i>Isabella’s</i>, throwing himself on his Knees at the <i>Grate</i>,
+implor’d her to behold him, to hear him, and to pardon him, who dy’d
+every moment for her, and who ador’d her with a violent Ardor; but yet,
+with such an one, as should (tho’ he perish’d with&nbsp;it) be
+conformable to her Commands; and as he spoke, the Tears stream’d down
+his dying Eyes, that beheld her with all the tender Regard that ever
+Lover was capable of; she recover’d a little, and turn’d her too
+beautiful Face to him, and pierc’d him with a Look, that darted a
+thousand Joys and Flames into his Heart, with Eyes, that told him her
+Heart was burning and dying for him; for which Assurances, he made Ten
+thousand Asseverations of his never-dying Passion, and expressing as
+many Raptures and Excesses of Joy, to find her Eyes and Looks confess,
+he was not odious to her, and that the knowledge he was her Lover, did
+not make her hate him:
+<span class = "pagenum">292</span>
+In fine, he spoke so many things all soft and moving, and so well
+convinc’d her of his Passion, that she at last was compell’d by a mighty
+force, absolutely irresistible, to speak.</p>
+
+<p>‘Sir, (said she) perhaps you will wonder, where I, a Maid, brought up
+in the simplicity of Virtue, should learn the Confidence, not only to
+hear of Love from you, but to confess I am sensible of the most violent
+of its Pain my self; and I wonder, and am amazed at my own Daring, that
+I should have the Courage, rather to speak, than dye, and bury it in
+silence; but such is my Fate. Hurried by an unknown Force, which I have
+endeavoured always, in vain, to resist, I&nbsp;am compell’d to tell you,
+I&nbsp;love you, and have done so from the first moment I saw you; and
+you are the only Man born to give me Life or Death, to make me Happy or
+Blest; perhaps, had I not been confin’d, and, as it were, utterly forbid
+by my Vow, as well as my Modesty, to tell you this, I&nbsp;should not
+have been so miserable to have fallen thus low, as to have confess’d my
+Shame; but our Opportunities of Speaking are so few, and Letters so
+impossible to be sent without discovery, that perhaps this is the only
+time I shall ever have to speak with you alone.’ And, at that word the
+Tears flow’d abundantly from her Eyes, and gave <i>Henault</i> leave to
+speak. ‘Ah Madam! (said&nbsp;he) do not, as soon as you have rais’d me
+to the greatest Happiness in the World, throw me with one word beneath
+your Scorn, much easier ’tis to dye, and know I am lov’d, than never,
+never, hope to hear that blessed sound again from that beautiful Mouth:
+Ah, Madam! rather let me make use of this one opportunity our happy Luck
+has given us, and contrive how we may for ever see, and speak, to each
+other; let us assure one another, there are a thousand ways to escape a
+place so rigid, as denies us that Happiness; and denies the fairest Maid
+in the World, the privilege of her Creation, and the end to which she
+was form’d so Angelical.’ And seeing <i>Isabella</i> was going to speak,
+lest she should say something, that might
+<span class = "pagenum">293</span>
+dissuade from an Attempt so dangerous and wicked, he persu’d to tell
+her, it might be indeed the last moment Heaven would give ’em, and
+besought her to answer him what he implor’d, whether she would fly with
+him from the <i>Monastery</i>? At this Word, she grew pale, and started,
+as at some dreadful Sound, and cry’d, ‘Hah! what is’t you say? Is it
+possible, you should propose a thing so wicked? And can it enter into
+your Imagination, because I have so far forget my Virtue, and my Vow, to
+become a Lover, I&nbsp;should therefore fall to so wretched a degree of
+Infamy and Reprobation? No, name it to me no more, if you would see me;
+and if it be as you say, a&nbsp;Pleasure to be belov’d by me; for I will
+sooner dye, than yield to what .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Alas! I&nbsp;but too well
+approve!’ These last words, she spoke with a fainting Tone, and the
+Tears fell anew from her fair soft Eyes. ‘If it be so,’ said he, (with a
+Voice so languishing, it could scarce be heard) ‘If it be so, and that
+you are resolv’d to try, if my Love be eternal without Hope, without
+expectation of any other Joy, than seeing and adoring you through the
+<i>Grate</i>; I am, and must, and will be contented, and you shall see,
+I&nbsp;can prefer the Sighing to these cold Irons, that separate us,
+before all the Possessions of the rest of the World; that I chuse rather
+to lead my Life here, at this cruel Distance from you, for ever, than
+before the Embrace of all the Fair; and you shall see, how pleas’d I
+will be, to languish here; but as you see me decay, (for surely so I
+shall) do not triumph o’re my languid Looks, and laugh at my Pale and
+meager Face; but, Pitying, say, How easily I might have preserv’d that
+Face, those Eyes, and all that Youth and Vigour, now no more, from this
+total Ruine I now behold it in, and love your Slave that dyes, and will
+be daily and visibly dying, as long as my Eyes can gaze on that fair
+Object, and my Soul be fed and kept alive with her Charming Wit and
+Conversation; if Love can live on such Airy Food, (tho’ rich in it self,
+yet unfit, alone, to sustain Life) it shall
+<span class = "pagenum">294</span>
+be for ever dedicated to the lovely <i>ISABELLA</i>: But, oh! that time
+cannot be long! Fate will not lend her Slave many days, who loves too
+violently, to be satisfy’d to enjoy the fair Object of his Desires, no
+otherwise than at a <i>Grate</i>.’</p>
+
+<p>He ceas’d speaking, for Sighs and Tears stopt his Voice, and he
+begg’d the liberty to sit down; and his Looks being quite alter’d,
+<i>ISABELLA</i> found her self touch’d to the very Soul, with a concern
+the most tender, that ever yielding Maid was oppress’d with: She had no
+power to suffer him to Languish, while she by one soft word could
+restore him, and being about to say a thousand things that would have
+been agreeable to him, she saw herself approach’d by some of the
+<i>Nuns</i>, and only had time to say, ‘If you love me, live and hope.’
+The rest of the <i>Nuns</i> began to ask <i>Henault</i> of News, for he
+always brought them all that was Novel in the Town, and they were glad
+still of his Visits, above all other, for they heard, how all Amours and
+Intrigues pass’d in the World, by this young Cavalier. These last words
+of <i>Isabella’s</i> were a Cordial to his Soul, and he, from that, and
+to conceal the present Affair, endeavour’d to assume all the Gaity he
+could, and told ’em all he could either remember, or invent, to please
+’em, tho’ he wish’d them a great way off at that time.</p>
+
+<p>Thus they pass’d the day, till it was a decent hour for him to quit
+the <i>Grate</i>, and for them to draw the Curtain; all that Night did
+<i>Isabella</i> dedicate to Love, she went to Bed, with a Resolution, to
+think over all she had to do, and to consider, how she should manage
+this great Affair of her Life: I&nbsp;have already said, she had try’d
+all that was possible in Human Strength to perform, in the design of
+quitting a Passion so injurious to her Honour and Virtue, and found no
+means possible to accomplish it: She had try’d Fasting long, Praying
+fervently, rigid Penances and Pains, severe Disciplines, all the
+Mortification, almost to the destruction of Life it self, to conquer the
+unruly Flame; but still it burnt and rag’d but the more; so, at
+<span class = "pagenum">295</span>
+last, she was forc’d to permit that to conquer her, she could not
+conquer, and submitted to her Fate, as a thing destin’d her by Heaven it
+self; and after all this opposition, she fancy’d it was resisting even
+Divine Providence, to struggle any longer with her Heart; and this being
+her real Belief, she the more patiently gave way to all the Thoughts
+that pleas’d her.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she was laid, without discoursing (as she us’d to do) to
+<i>Katteriena</i>, after they were in Bed, she pretended to be sleepy,
+and turning from her, setled her self to profound Thinking, and was
+resolv’d to conclude the Matter, between her Heart, and her Vow of
+Devotion, that Night, and she, having no more to determine, might end
+the Affair accordingly, the first opportunity she should have to speak
+to <i>Henault</i>, which was, to fly, and marry him; or, to remain for
+ever fix’d to her Vow of Chastity. This was the Debate; she brings
+Reason on both sides: Against the first, she sets the Shame of a
+Violated Vow, and considers, where she shall shew her Face after such an
+Action; to the Vow, she argues, that she was born in Sin, and could not
+live without it; that she was Human, and no Angel, and that, possibly,
+that Sin might be as soon forgiven, as another; that since all her
+devout Endeavours could not defend her from the Cause, Heaven ought to
+execute the Effect; that as to shewing her Face, so she saw that of
+<i>Henault</i> always turned (Charming as it was) towards her with love;
+what had she to do with the World, or car’d to behold any other?</p>
+
+<p>Some times, she thought, it would be more Brave and Pious to dye,
+than to break her Vow; but she soon answer’d that, as false Arguing, for
+Self-Murder was the worst of Sins, and in the Deadly Number. She could,
+after such an Action, live to repent, and, of two Evils, she ought to
+chuse the least; she dreads to think, since she had so great a
+Reputation for Virtue and Piety, both in the <i>Monastery</i>, and in
+the World, what they both would
+<span class = "pagenum">296</span>
+say, when she should commit an Action so contrary to both these, she
+posest; but, after a whole Night’s Debate, Love was strongest, and
+gain’d the Victory. She never went about to think, how she should
+escape, because she knew it would be easy, the keeping of the Key of the
+<i>Monastery</i>, [was] often intrusted in her keeping, and was, by
+turns, in the hands of many more, whose Virtue and Discretion was
+Infallible, and out of Doubt; besides, her Aunt being the Lady
+<i>Abbess</i>, she had greater privilege than the rest; so that she had
+no more to do, she thought, than to acquaint <i>Henault</i> with her
+Design, as soon as she should get an opportunity. Which was not quickly;
+but, in the mean time, <i>Isabella’s</i> Father dy’d, which put some
+little stop to our Lover’s Happiness, and gave her a short time of
+Grief; but Love, who, while he is new and young, can do us Miracles,
+soon wip’d her Eyes, and chas’d away all Sorrows from her Heart, and
+grew every day more and more impatient, to put her new Design in
+Execution, being every day more resolv’d. Her Father’s Death had remov’d
+one Obstacle, and secur’d her from his Reproaches; and now she only
+wants Opportunity, first, to acquaint <i>Henault</i>, and then to
+fly.</p>
+
+<p>She waited not long, all things concurring to her desire; for
+<i>Katteriena</i> falling sick, she had the good luck, as she call’d it
+then, to entertain <i>Henault</i> at the <i>Grate</i> oftentimes alone;
+the first moment she did so, she entertain’d him with the good News, and
+told him, She had at last vanquish’d her Heart in favour of him, and
+loving him above all things, Honour, her Vow or Reputation, had resolv’d
+to abandon her self wholly to him, to give her self up to love and serve
+him, and that she had no other Consideration in the World; but
+<i>Henault</i>, instead of returning her an Answer, all Joy and
+Satisfaction, held down his Eyes, and Sighing, with a dejected Look, he
+cry’d, ‘Ah, Madam! Pity a Man so wretched and undone, as not to be
+sensible of this Blessing as I ought.’ She grew pale at this Reply,
+<span class = "pagenum">297</span>
+and trembling, expected he would proceed: ‘’Tis not (continued&nbsp;he)
+that I want Love, tenderest Passion, and all the desire Youth and Love
+can inspire; But, Oh, Madam! when I consider, (for raving mad in Love as
+I am for your sake, I&nbsp;do consider) that if I should take you from
+this Repose, Nobly Born and Educated, as you are; and, for that Act,
+should find a rigid Father deprive me of all that ought to support you,
+and afford your Birth, Beauty, and Merits, their due, what would you
+say? How would you Reproach me?’ He sighing, expected her Answer, when
+Blushes overspreading her Face, she reply’d, in a Tone all haughty and
+angry, ‘Ah, <i>Henault</i>! Am I then refus’d, after having abandon’d
+all things for you? Is it thus, you reward my Sacrific’d Honour, Vows,
+and Virtue? Cannot you hazard the loss of Fortune to possess
+<i>Isabella</i>, who loses all for you!’ Then bursting into Tears, at
+her misfortune of Loving, she suffer’d him to say, ‘Oh, Charming fair
+one! how industrious is your Cruelty, to find out new Torments for an
+Heart, already press’d down with the Severities of Love? Is it possible,
+you can make so unhappy a Construction of the tenderest part of my
+Passion? And can you imagin it want of Love in me, to consider, how I
+shall preserve and merit the vast Blessing Heaven has given me? Is my
+Care a Crime? And would not the most deserving Beauty of the World hate
+me, if I should, to preserve my Life, and satisfy the Passion of my fond
+Heart, reduce her to the Extremities of Want and Misery? And is there
+any thing, in what I have said, but what you ought to take for the
+greatest Respect and tenderness!’ ‘Alas! (reply’d <i>Isabella</i>
+sighing) young as I am, all unskilful in Love I find, but what I feel,
+that Discretion is no part of it; and Consideration, inconsistent with
+the Nobler Passion, who will subsist of its own Nature, and Love unmixed
+with any other Sentiment? And ’tis not pure, if it be otherwise:
+I&nbsp;know, had I mix’d Discretion with mine, my Love must have been
+less,
+<span class = "pagenum">298</span>
+I never thought of living, but my Love; and, if I consider’d at all, it
+was, that Grandure and Magnificence were useless Trifles to Lovers,
+wholly needless and troublesom. I&nbsp;thought of living in some loanly
+Cottage, far from the noise of crowded busie Cities, to walk with thee
+in Groves, and silent Shades, where I might hear no Voice but thine; and
+when we had been tir’d, to sit us done by some cool murmuring Rivulet,
+and be to each a World, my Monarch thou, and I thy Sovereign Queen,
+while Wreaths of Flowers shall crown our happy Heads, some fragrant Bank
+our Throne, and Heaven our Canopy: Thus we might laugh at Fortune, and
+the Proud, despise the duller World, who place their Joys in mighty Shew
+and Equipage. Alas! my Nature could not bear it, I&nbsp;am unus’d to
+Wordly Vanities, and would boast of nothing but my <i>Henault</i>; no
+Riches, but his Love; no Grandure, but his Presence.’ She ended
+speaking, with Tears, and he reply’d, ‘Now, now, I&nbsp;find, my
+<i>Isabella</i> loves indeed, when she’s content to abandon the World
+for my sake; Oh! thou hast named the only happy Life that suits my quiet
+Nature, to be retir’d, has always been my Joy! But to be so with thee!
+Oh! thou hast charm’d me with a Thought so dear, as has for ever
+banish’d all my Care, but how to receive thy Goodness! Please think no
+more what my angry Parent may do, when he shall hear, how I have
+dispos’d of my self against his Will and Pleasure, but trust to Love and
+Providence; no more! be gone all Thoughts, but those of
+<i>Isabella</i>!’</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he had made an end of expressing his Joy, he fell to
+consulting how, and when, she should escape; and since it was uncertain,
+when she should be offer’d the Key, for she would not ask for it, she
+resolv’d to give him notice, either by word of Mouth, or a bit of Paper
+she would write in, and give him through the <i>Grate</i> the first
+opportunity; and, parting for that time, they both resolv’d to get up
+what was possible for their Support, till Time should reconcile Affairs
+and Friends, and to wait the happy hour.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">299</span>
+<p><i>Isabella’s</i> dead Mother had left Jewels, of the value of
+2000<i>l.</i> to her Daughter, at her Decease, which Jewels were in the
+possession, now, of the Lady <i>Abbess</i>, and were upon Sale, to be
+added to the Revenue of the <i>Monastery</i>; and as <i>Isabella</i> was
+the most Prudent of her Sex, at least, had hitherto been so esteem’d,
+she was intrusted with all that was in possession of the Lady
+<i>Abbess</i>, and ’twas not difficult to make her self Mistress of all
+her own Jewels; as also, some 3 or 400<i>l.</i> in Gold, that was
+hoarded up in her Ladyship’s Cabinet, against any Accidents that might
+arrive to the <i>Monastery</i>; these <i>Isabella</i> also made her own,
+and put up with the Jewels; and having acquainted <i>Henault</i>, with
+the Day and Hour of her Escape, he got together what he could, and
+waiting for her, with his Coach, one Night, when no body was awake but
+her self, when rising softly, as she us’d to do, in the Night, to her
+Devotion, she stole so dexterously out of the <i>Monastery</i>, as no
+body knew any thing of it; she carry’d away the Keys with her, after
+having lock’d all the Doors, for she was intrusted often with all. She
+found <i>Henault</i> waiting in his Coach, and trusted none but an
+honest Coachman that lov’d him; he receiv’d her with all the Transports
+of a truly ravish’d Lover, and she was infinitely charm’d with the new
+Pleasure of his Embraces and Kisses.</p>
+
+<p>They drove out of Town immediately, and because she durst not be seen
+in that Habit, (for it had been immediate Death for both) they drove
+into a Thicket some three Miles from the Town, where <i>Henault</i>
+having brought her some of his younger Sister’s Clothes, he made her put
+off her Habit, and put on those; and, rending the other, they hid them
+in a Sand-pit, covered over with Broom, and went that Night forty Miles
+from <i>Iper</i>, to a little Town upon the River <i>Rhine</i>, where,
+changing their Names, they were forthwith married, and took a House in a
+Country Village, a&nbsp;Farm, where they resolv’d to live retir’d, by
+the name of <i>Beroone</i>, and drove a Farming Trade;
+<span class = "pagenum">300</span>
+however, not forgetting to set Friends and Engines at work, to get their
+Pardon, as Criminals, first, that had trangress’d the Law; and, next, as
+disobedient Persons, who had done contrary to the Will and Desire of
+their Parents: <i>Isabella</i> writ to her Aunt the most moving Letters
+in the World, so did <i>Henault</i> to his Father; but she was a long
+time, before she could gain so much as an answer from her Aunt, and
+<i>Henault</i> was so unhappy, as never to gain one from his Father; who
+no sooner heard the News that was spread over all the Town and Country,
+that young <i>Henault</i> was fled with the so fam’d <i>Isabella</i>,
+a&nbsp;<i>Nun</i>, and singular for Devotion and Piety of Life, but he
+immediately setled his Estate on his younger Son, cutting <i>Henault</i>
+off with all his Birthright, which was 5000<i>l.</i> a Year. This News,
+you may believe, was not very pleasing to the young Man, who tho’ in
+possession of the loveliest Virgin, and now Wife, that ever Man was
+bless’d with; yet when he reflected, he should have children by her, and
+these and she should come to want, (he&nbsp;having been magnificently
+Educated, and impatient of scanty Fortune) he laid it to Heart, and it
+gave him a thousand Uneasinesses in the midst of unspeakable Joys; and
+the more be strove to hide his Sentiments from <i>Isabella</i>, the more
+tormenting it was within; he durst not name it to her, so insuperable a
+Grief it would cause in her, to hear him complain; and tho’ she could
+live hardly, as being bred to a devout and severe Life, he could not,
+but must let the Man of Quality shew it self; even in the disguise of an
+humbler Farmer: Besides all this, <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘hs’">he</ins> found nothing of his Industry thrive, his
+Cattel still dy’d in the midst of those that were in full Vigour and
+Health of other Peoples; his Crops of Wheat and Barly, and other Grain,
+tho’ manag’d by able and knowing Husbandmen, were all, either Mildew’d,
+or Blasted, or some Misfortune still arriv’d to him; his Coach-Horses
+would fight and kill one another, his Barns sometimes be fir’d; so that
+it became a Proverb all over the
+<span class = "pagenum">301</span>
+Country, if any ill Luck had arriv’d to any body, they would say, ‘They
+had Monsieur <i>BEROONE’S</i> Luck.’ All these Reflections did but add
+to his Melancholy, and he grew at last to be in some want, insomuch,
+that <i>Isabella</i>, who had by her frequent Letters, and submissive
+Supplications, to her Aunt, (who lov’d her tenderly) obtain’d her
+Pardon, and her Blessing; she now press’d her for some Money, and
+besought her to consider, how great a Fortune she had brought to the
+<i>Monastery</i>, and implor’d, she would allow her some Sallary out of
+it, for she had been marry’d two Years, and most of what she had was
+exhausted. The Aunt, who found, that what was done, could not be undone,
+did, from time to time, supply her so, as one might have liv’d very
+decently on that very Revenue; but that would not satisfy the great
+Heart of <i>Henault</i>. He was now about three and twenty Years old,
+and <i>Isabella</i> about eighteen, too young, and too lovely a Pair, to
+begin their Misfortunes so soon; they were both the most Just and Pious
+in the World; they were Examples of Goodness, and Eminent for Holy
+Living, and for perfect Loving, and yet nothing thriv’d they undertook;
+they had no Children, and all their Joy was in each other; at last, one
+good Fortune arriv’d to them, by the Solicitations of the Lady
+<i>Abbess</i>, and the <i>Bishop</i>, who was her near Kinsman, they got
+a Pardon for <i>Isabella’s</i> quitting the <i>Monastery</i>, and
+marrying, so that she might now return to her own Country again.
+<i>Henault</i> having also his Pardon, they immediately quit the place,
+where they had remain’d for two Years, and came again into
+<i>Flanders</i>, hoping, the change of place might afford ’em better
+Luck.</p>
+
+<p><i>Henault</i> then began again to solicit his Cruel Father, but
+nothing would do, he refus’d to see him, or to receive any Letters from
+him; but, at last, he prevail’d so far with him, as that he sent a
+Kinsman to him, to assure him, if he would leave his Wife, and go into
+the <i>French</i> Campagn, he would Equip him as well as his Quality
+requir’d, and
+<span class = "pagenum">302</span>
+that, according as he behav’d himself, he should gain his Favour; but if
+he liv’d Idly at home, giving up his Youth and Glory to lazy Love, he
+would have no more to say to him, but race him out of his Heart, and out
+of his Memory.</p>
+
+<p>He had setled himself in a very pretty House, furnished with what was
+fitting for the Reception of any Body of Quality that would live a
+private Life, and they found all the Respect that their Merits deserv’d
+from all the World, every body entirely loving and endeavouring to serve
+them; and <i>Isabella</i> so perfectly had the Ascendent over her Aunt’s
+Heart, that she procur’d from her all that she could desire, and much
+more than she could expect. She was perpetually progging and saving all
+that she could, to enrich and advance her, and, at last, pardoning and
+forgiving <i>Henault</i>, lov’d him as her own Child; so that all things
+look’d with a better Face than before, and never was so dear and fond a
+Couple seen, as <i>Henault</i> and <i>Isabella</i>; but, at last, she
+prov’d with Child, and the Aunt, who might reasonably believe, so young
+a Couple would have a great many Children, and foreseeing there was <ins
+class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘a / no’ at line break">no</ins>
+Provision likely to be made them, unless he pleas’d his
+Father, for if the Aunt should chance to dye, all their Hope was gone;
+she therefore daily solicited him to obey his Father, and go to the
+Camp; and that having atchiev’d Fame and Renown, he would return a
+Favourite to his Father, and Comfort to his Wife: After she had
+solicited in vain, for he was not able to endure the thought of leaving
+<i>Isabella</i>, melancholy as he was with his ill Fortune; the
+<i>Bishop</i>, kinsman to <i>Isabella</i>, took him to task, and urg’d
+his Youth and Birth, and that he ought not to wast both without Action,
+when all the World was employ’d; and, that since his Father had so great
+a desire he should go into a Campagn, either to serve the
+<i>Venetian</i> against the <i>Turks</i>, or into the <i>French</i>
+Service, which he lik’d best; he besought him to think of it; and since
+he had
+<span class = "pagenum">303</span>
+satisfy’d his Love, he should and ought to satisfy his Duty, it being
+absolutely necessary for the wiping off the Stain of his Sacrilege, and
+to gain him the favour of Heaven, which, he found, had hitherto been
+averse to all he had undertaken: In fine, all his Friends, and all who
+lov’d him, joyn’d in this Design, and all thought it convenient, nor was
+he insensible of the Advantage it might bring him; but Love, which every
+day grew fonder and fonder in his Heart, oppos’d all their Reasonings,
+tho’ he saw all the Brave Youth of the Age preparing to go, either to
+one Army, or the other.</p>
+
+<p>At last, he lets <i>Isabella</i> know, what Propositions he had made
+him, both by his Father, and his Relations; at the very first Motion,
+she almost fainted in his Arms, while he was speaking, and it possess’d
+her with so intire a Grief, that she miscarry’d, to the insupportable
+Torment of her tender Husband and Lover, so that, to re-establish her
+Repose, he was forc’d to promise not to go; however, she consider’d all
+their Circumstances, and weigh’d the Advantages that might redound both
+to his Honour and Fortune, by it; and, in a matter of a Month’s time,
+with the Persuasions and Reasons of her Friends, she suffer’d him to
+resolve upon going, her self determining to retire to the
+<i>Monastery</i>, till the time of his Return; but when she nam’d the
+<i>Monastery</i>, he grew pale and disorder’d, and obliged her to
+promise him, not to enter into it any more, for fear they should never
+suffer her to come forth again; so that he resolv’d not to depart, till
+she had made a Vow to him, never to go again within the Walls of a
+Religious House, which had already been so fatal to them. She promis’d,
+and he believ’d.</p>
+
+<p><i>Henault</i>, at last, overcame his Heart, which pleaded so for his
+Stay, and sent his Father word, he was ready to obey him, and to carry
+the first Efforts of his Arms against the common Foes of Christendom,
+the <i>Turks</i>; his Father was very well pleas’d at this, and sent him
+Two thousand
+<span class = "pagenum">304</span>
+Crowns, his Horses and Furniture sutable to his Quality, and a Man to
+wait on him; so that it was not long e’re he got himself in order to be
+gone, after a dismal parting.</p>
+
+<p>He made what hast he could to the <i>French</i> Army, then under the
+Command of the Monsignior, the Duke of <i>Beaufort</i>, then at
+<i>Candia</i>, and put himself a Voluntier under his Conduct; in which
+Station was <i>Villenoys</i>, who, you have already heard, was so
+passionate a Lover of <i>Isabella</i>, who no sooner heard of
+<i>Henault’s</i> being arriv’d, and that he was Husband to
+<i>Isabella</i>, but he was impatient to learn, by what strange
+Adventure he came to gain her, even from her Vow’d Retreat, when he,
+with all his Courtship, could not be so happy, tho’ she was then free in
+the World, and Unvow’d to Heaven.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he sent his Name to <i>Henault</i>, he was sent for up,
+for <i>Henault</i> had heard of <i>Villenoys</i>, and that he had been a
+Lover of <i>Isabella</i>; they receiv’d one another with all the
+endearing Civility imaginable for the aforesaid Reason, and for that he
+was his Country-man, tho’ unknown to him, <i>Villenoys</i> being gone to
+the Army, just as <i>Henault</i> came from the <i>Jesuits</i> College.
+A&nbsp;great deal of Endearment pass’d between them, and they became,
+from that moment, like two sworn Brothers, and he receiv’d the whole
+Relation from <i>Henault</i>, of his Amour.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long before the Siege began anew, for he arriv’d at the
+beginning of the Spring, and, as soon as he came, almost, they fell to
+Action; and it happen’d upon a day, that a Party of some Four hundred
+Men resolv’d to sally out upon the Enemy, as, when ever they could, they
+did; but as it is not my business to relate the History of the War,
+being wholly unacquainted with the Terms of Battels, I&nbsp;shall only
+say, That these Men were led by <i>Villenoys</i>, and that
+<i>Henault</i> would accompany him in this Sally, and that they acted
+very Noble, and great Things, worthy of a Memory in the History of that
+Siege; but this day, particularly, they had an occasion to shew their
+<span class = "pagenum">305</span>
+Valour, which they did very much to their Glory; but, venturing too far,
+they were ambush’d, in the persuit of the Party of the Enemies, and
+being surrounded, <i>Villenoys</i> had the unhappiness to see his
+gallant Friend fall, fighting and dealing of Wounds around him, even as
+he descended to the Earth, for he fell from his Horse at the same moment
+that he kill’d a <i>Turk</i>; and <i>Villenoys</i> could neither assist
+him, nor had he the satisfaction to be able to rescue his dead Body from
+under the Horses, but, with much ado, escaping with his own Life, got
+away, in spite of all that follow’d him, and recover’d the Town, before
+they could overtake him: He passionately bewail’d the Loss of this brave
+young Man, and offer’d any Recompence to those, that would have ventur’d
+to have search’d for his dead Body among the Slain; but it was not fit
+to hazard the Living, for unnecessary Services to the Dead; and tho’ he
+had a great mind to have Interr’d him, he rested content with what he
+wish’d to pay his Friends Memory, tho’ he could not: So that all the
+Service now he could do him, was, to write to <i>Isabella</i>, to whom
+he had not writ, tho’ commanded by her so to do, in three Years before,
+which was never since she took Orders. He gave her an Account of the
+Death of her Husband, and how Gloriously he fell fighting for the Holy
+Cross, and how much Honour he had won, if it had been his Fate to have
+outliv’d that great, but unfortunate, Day, where, with 400 Men, they had
+kill’d 1500 of the Enemy. The General <i>Beaufort</i> himself had so
+great a Respect and Esteem for this young Man, and knowing him to be of
+Quality, that he did him the honour to bemoan him, and to send a
+Condoling Letter to <i>Isabella</i>, how much worth her Esteem he dy’d,
+and that he had Eterniz’d his Memory with the last Gasp of his Life.</p>
+
+<p>When this News arriv’d, it may be easily imagin’d, what Impressions,
+or rather Ruins, it made in the Heart of this fair Mourner; the Letters
+came by his Man, who saw him fall in Battel, and came off with those few
+that
+<span class = "pagenum">306</span>
+escap’d with <i>Villenoys</i>; he brought back what Money he had,
+a&nbsp;few Jewels, with <i>Isabella’s</i> Picture that he carry’d with
+him and had left in his Chamber in the Fort at <i>Candia</i>, for fear
+of breaking it in Action. And now <i>Isabella’s</i> Sorrow grew to the
+Extremity, she thought, she could not suffer more than she did by his
+Absence, but she now found a Grief more killing; she hung her Chamber
+with Black, and liv’d without the Light of Day: Only Wax Lights, that
+let her behold the Picture of this Charming Man, before which she
+sacrific’d Floods of Tears. He had now been absent about ten Months, and
+she had learnt just to live without him, but Hope preserv’d her then;
+but now she had nothing, for which to wish to live. She, for about two
+Months after the News arriv’d, liv’d without seeing any Creature but a
+young Maid, that was her Woman; but extream Importunity oblig’d her to
+give way to the Visits of her Friends, who endeavour’d to restore her
+Melancholy Soul to its wonted Easiness; for, however it was oppress’d
+within, by <i>Henault’s</i> Absence, she bore it off with a modest
+Chearfulness; but now she found, that Fortitude and Virtue fail’d her,
+when she was assur’d, he was no more: She continu’d thus Mourning, and
+thus inclos’d, the space of a whole Year, never suffering the Visit of
+any Man, but of a near Relation; so that she acquir’d a Reputation, such
+as never any young Beauty had, for she was now but Nineteen, and her
+Face and Shape more excellent than ever; she daily increas’d in Beauty,
+which, joyn’d to her Exemplary Piety, Charity, and all other excellent
+Qualities, gain’d her a wonderous Fame, and begat an Awe and Reverence
+in all that heard of her, and there was no Man of any Quality, that did
+not Adore her. After her Year was up, she went to the Churches, but
+would never be seen any where else abroad, but that was enough to
+procure her a thousand Lovers; and some, who had the boldness to send
+her Letters, which, if she receiv’d, she gave no Answer to, and many
+<span class = "pagenum">307</span>
+she sent back unread and unseal’d: So that she would encourage none,
+tho’ their Quality was far beyond what she could hope; but she was
+resolv’d to marry no more, however her Fortune might
+require&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>It happen’d, that, about this time, <i>Candia</i> being unfortunately
+taken by the <i>Turks</i>, all the brave Men that escap’d the Sword,
+return’d, among them, <i>Villenoys</i>, who no sooner arriv’d, but he
+sent to let <i>Isabella</i> know of it, and to beg the Honour of waiting
+on her; desirous to learn what Fate befel her dear Lord, she suffer’d
+him to visit her, where he found her, in her Mourning, a&nbsp;thousand
+times more Fair, (at&nbsp;least, he fancy’d&nbsp;so) than ever she
+appear’d to be; so that if he lov’d her before, he now ador’d her; if he
+burnt then, he rages now; but the awful Sadness, and soft Languishment
+of her Eyes, hinder’d him from the presumption of speaking of his
+Passion to her, tho’ it would have been no new thing; and his first
+Visit was spent in the Relation of every Circumstance of
+<i>Henault’s</i> Death; and, at his going away, he begg’d leave to visit
+her sometimes, and she gave him permission: He lost no time, but made
+use of the Liberty she had given him; and when his Sister, who was a
+great Companion of <i>Isabella’s</i>, went to see her, he would still
+wait on her; so that, either with his own Visits, and those of his
+Sister’s, he saw <i>Isabella</i> every day, and had the good luck to
+see, he diverted her, by giving her Relations of Transactions of the
+Siege, and the Customs and Manners of the <i>Turks</i>: All he said, was
+with so good a Grace, that he render’d every thing agreeable; he was,
+besides, very Beautiful, well made, of Quality and Fortune, and fit to
+inspire Love.</p>
+
+<p>He made his Visits so often, and so long, that, at last, he took the
+Courage to speak of his Passion, which, at first, <i>Isabella</i> would
+by no means hear of, but, by degrees, she yielded more and more to
+listen to his tender Discourse; and he liv’d thus with her two Years,
+before he could
+<span class = "pagenum">308</span>
+gain any more upon her Heart, than to suffer him to speak of Love to
+her; but that, which subdu’d her quite was, That her Aunt, the Lady
+<i>Abbess</i>, dy’d, and with her, all the Hopes and Fortune of
+<i>Isabella</i>, so that she was left with only a Charming Face and
+Meen, a&nbsp;Virtue, and a Discretion above her Sex, to make her Fortune
+within the World; into a Religious House, she was resolv’d not to go,
+because her Heart deceiv’d her once, and she durst not trust it again,
+whatever it promis’d.</p>
+
+<p>The death of this Lady made her look more favourably on
+<i>Villenoys</i>; but yet, she was resolv’d to try his Love to the
+utmost, and keep him off, as long as ’twas possible she could subsist,
+and ’twas for Interest she married again, tho’ she lik’d the Person very
+well; and since she was forc’d to submit her self to be a second time a
+Wife, she thought, she could live better with <i>Villenoys</i>, than any
+other, since for him she ever had a great Esteem; and fancy’d the Hand
+of Heaven had pointed out her Destiny, which she could not avoid,
+without a Crime.</p>
+
+<p>So that when she was again importun’d by her impatient Lover, she
+told him, She had made a Vow to remain three Years, at least, before she
+would marry again, after the Death of the best of Men and Husbands, and
+him who had the Fruits of her early Heart; and, notwith&shy;standing all
+the Solicitations of <i>Villenoys</i>, she would not consent to marry
+him, till her Vow of Widowhood was expir’d.</p>
+
+<p>He took her promise, which he urg’d her to give him, and to shew the
+height of his Passion in his obedience; he condescends to stay her
+appointed time, tho’ he saw her every day, and all his Friends and
+Relations made her Visits upon this new account, and there was nothing
+talk’d on, but this design’d Wedding, which, when the time was expir’d,
+was perform’d accordingly with great Pomp and Magnificence, for
+<i>Villenoys</i> had no Parents to hinder his Design; or if he had, the
+Reputation and Virtue of this Lady would have subdu’d them.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">309</span>
+<p>The Marriage was celebrated in this House, where she liv’d ever since
+her Return from <i>Germany</i>, from the time she got her Pardon; and
+when <i>Villenoys</i> was preparing all things in a more magnificent
+Order at his Villa, some ten Miles from the City, she was very
+melancholy, and would often say, She had been us’d to such profound
+Retreat, and to live without the fatigue of Noise and Equipage, that,
+she fear’d, she should never endure that Grandeur, which was proper for
+his Quality; and tho’ the House, in the Country, was the most
+beautifully Situated in all <i>Flanders</i>, she was afraid of a
+numerous Train, and kept him, for the most part, in this pretty City
+Mansion, which he Adorn’d and Enlarg’d, as much as she would give him
+leave; so that there wanted nothing, to make this House fit to receive
+the People of the greatest Quality, little as it was: But all the
+Servants and Footmen, all but one <i>Valet</i>, and the Maid, were
+lodg’d abroad, for <i>Isabella</i>, not much us’d to the sight of Men
+about her, suffer’d them as seldom as possible, to come in her Presence,
+so that she liv’d more like a <i>Nun</i> still, than a Lady of the
+World; and very rarely any Maids came about her, but <i>Maria</i>, who
+had always permission to come, when ever she pleas’d, unless
+forbidden.</p>
+
+<p>As <i>Villenoys</i> had the most tender and violent Passion for his
+Wife, in the World, he suffer’d her to be pleas’d at any rate, and to
+live in what Method she best lik’d, and was infinitely satisfy’d with
+the Austerity and manner of her Conduct, since in his Arms, and alone,
+with him, she wanted nothing that could Charm; so that she was esteemed
+the fairest and best of Wives, and he the most happy of all Mankind.
+When she would go abroad, she had her Coaches Rich and Gay, and her
+Livery ready to attend her in all the Splendour imaginable; and he was
+always buying one rich Jewel, or Necklace, or some great Rarity or
+other, that might please her; so that there was nothing her Soul could
+desire, which it had not, except
+<span class = "pagenum">310</span>
+the Assurance of Eternal Happiness, which she labour’d incessantly to
+gain. She had no Discontent, but because she was not bless’d with a
+Child; but she submits to the pleasure of Heaven, and endeavour’d, by
+her good Works, and her Charity, to make the Poor her Children, and was
+ever doing Acts of Virtue, to make the Proverb good, <i>That more are
+the Children of the Barren, than the Fruitful Woman</i>. She liv’d in
+this Tranquility, belov’d by all, for the space of five Years, and Time
+(and perpetual Obligations from <i>Villenoys</i>, who was the most
+indulgent and indearing Man in the World) had almost worn out of her
+Heart the Thought of <i>Henault</i>, or if she remember’d him, it was in
+her Prayers, or sometimes with a short sigh, and no more, tho’ it was a
+great while, before she could subdue her Heart to that Calmness; but she
+was prudent, and wisely bent all her Endeavours to please, oblige, and
+caress, the deserving Living, and to strive all she could, to forget the
+unhappy Dead, since it could not but redound to the disturbance of her
+Repose, to think of him; so that she had now transferr’d all that
+Tenderness she had for him, to <i>Villenoys</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Villenoys</i>, of all Diversions, lov’d Hunting, and kept, at his
+Country House, a&nbsp;very famous Pack of Dogs, which he us’d to lend,
+sometimes, to a young Lord, who was his dear Friend, and his Neighbour
+in the Country, who would often take them, and be out two or three days
+together, where he heard of Game, and oftentimes <i>Villenoys</i> and he
+would be a whole Week at a time exercising in this Sport, for there was
+no Game near at hand. This young Lord had sent him a Letter, to invite
+him fifteen Miles farther than his own <i>Villa</i>, to hunt, and
+appointed to meet him at his Country House, in order to go in search of
+this promis’d Game; So that <i>Villenoys</i> got about a Week’s
+Provision, of what Necessaries he thought he should want in that time;
+and taking only his <i>Valet</i>, who lov’d the Sport, he left
+<i>Isabella</i> for a Week to her Devotion, and
+<span class = "pagenum">311</span>
+her other innocent Diversions of fine Work, at which she was Excellent,
+and left the Town to go meet this young Challenger.</p>
+
+<p>When <i>Villenoys</i> was at any time out, it was the custom of
+<i>Isabella</i> to retire to her Chamber, and to receive no Visits, not
+even the Ladies, so absolutely she devoted her self to her Husband: All
+the first day she pass’d over in this manner, and Evening being come,
+she order’d her Supper to be brought to her Chamber, and, because it was
+Washing-day the next day, she order’d all her Maids to go very early to
+Bed, that they might be up betimes, and to leave only <i>Maria</i> to
+attend her; which was accordingly done. This <i>Maria</i> was a young
+Maid, that was very discreet, and, of all things in the World, lov’d her
+Lady, whom she had liv’d with, ever since she came from the
+<i>Monastery</i>.</p>
+
+<p>When all were in Bed, and the little light Supper just carry’d up to
+the Lady, and only, as I said, <i>Maria</i> attending, some body knock’d
+at the Gate, it being about Nine of the Clock at Night; so <i>Maria</i>
+snatching up a Candle, went to the Gate, to see who it might be; when
+she open’d the Door, she found a Man in a very odd Habit, and a worse
+Countenance, and asking, Who he would speak with? He told her, Her Lady:
+My Lady (reply’d <i>Maria</i>) does not use to receive Visits at this
+hour; Pray, what is your Business? He reply’d, That which I will deliver
+only to your Lady, and that she may give me Admittance, pray, deliver
+her this Ring: And pulling off a small Ring, with <i>Isabella’s</i> Name
+and Hair in it, he gave it <i>Maria</i>, who, shutting the Gate upon
+him, went in with the Ring; as soon as <i>Isabella</i> saw it, she was
+ready to swound on the Chair where she sate, and cry’d, Where had you
+this? <i>Maria</i> reply’d, An old rusty Fellow at the Gate gave it me,
+and desired, it might be his Pasport to you; I&nbsp;ask’d his Name, but
+he said, You knew him not, but he had great News to tell you.
+<i>Isabella</i> reply’d,
+<span class = "pagenum">312</span>
+(almost swounding again) Oh, <i>Maria!</i> I am ruin’d. The Maid, all
+this while, knew not what she meant, nor, that that was a Ring given to
+<i>Henault</i> by her Mistress, but endeavouring to recover her, only
+ask’d her, What she should say to the old Messenger? <i>Isabella</i> bid
+her bring him up to her, (she had scarce Life to utter these last words)
+and before she was well recover’d, <i>Maria</i> enter’d with the Man;
+and <i>Isabella</i> making a Sign to her, to depart the Room, she was
+left alone with him.</p>
+
+<p><i>Henault</i> (for it was he) stood trembling and speechless before
+her, giving her leisure to take a strict Survey of him; at first finding
+no Feature nor Part of <i>Henault</i> about him, her Fears began to
+lessen, and she hop’d, it was not he, as her first Apprehensions had
+suggested; when he (with the Tears of Joy standing in his Eyes, and not
+daring suddenly to approach her, for fear of encreasing that Disorder he
+saw in her pale Face) began to speak to her, and cry’d, Fair Creature!
+is there no Remains of your <i>Henault</i> left in this Face of mine,
+all o’regrown with Hair? Nothing in these Eyes, sunk with eight Years
+Absence from you, and Sorrows? Nothing in this Shape, bow’d with Labour
+and Griefs, that can inform you? I&nbsp;was once that happy Man you
+lov’d! At these words, Tears stop’d his Speech, and <i>Isabella</i> kept
+them Company, for yet she wanted Words. Shame and Confusion fill’d her
+Soul, and she was not able to lift her Eyes up, to consider the Face of
+him, whose Voice she knew so perfectly well. In one moment, she run over
+a thousand Thoughts. She finds, by his Return, she is not only expos’d
+to all the Shame imaginable; to all the Upbraiding, on his part, when he
+shall know she is marry’d to another; but all the Fury and Rage of
+<i>Villenoys</i>, and the Scorn of the Town, who will look on her as an
+Adulteress: She sees <i>Henault</i> poor, and knew, she must fall from
+all the Glory and Tranquility she had for five happy Years triumph’d in;
+in which time, she had known no Sorrow,
+<span class = "pagenum">313</span>
+or Care, tho’ she had endur’d a thousand with <i>Henault</i>. She dyes,
+to think, however, that he should know, she had been so lightly in Love
+with him, to marry again; and she dyes, to think, that <i>Villenoys</i>
+must see her again in the Arms of <i>Henault</i>; besides, she could not
+recal her Love, for Love, like Reputation, once fled, never returns
+more. ’Tis impossible to love, and cease to love, (and love another) and
+yet return again to the first Passion, tho’ the Person have all the
+Charms, or a thousand times more than it had, when it first conquer’d.
+This Mistery in Love, it may be, is not generally known, but nothing is
+more certain. One may a while suffer the Flame to languish, but there
+may be a reviving Spark in the Ashes, rak’d up, that may burn anew; but
+when ’tis quite extinguish’d, it never returns or rekindles.</p>
+
+<p>’Twas so with the Heart of <i>Isabella</i>; had she believ’d,
+<i>Henault</i> had been living, she had lov’d to the last moment of
+their Lives; but, alas! the Dead are soon forgotten, and she now lov’d
+only <i>Villenoys</i>.</p>
+
+<p>After they had both thus silently wept, with very different
+sentiments, she thought ’twas time to speak; and dissembling as well as
+she could, she caress’d him in her Arms, and told him, She could not
+express her Surprize and Joy for his Arrival. If she did not Embrace him
+heartily, or speak so Passionately as she us’d to do, he fancy’d it her
+Confusion, and his being in a condition not so fit to receive Embraces
+from her; and evaded them as much as ’twas possible for him to do, in
+respect to her, till he had dress’d his Face, and put himself in order;
+but the Supper being just brought up, when he knock’d, she order’d him
+to sit down and Eat, and he desir’d her not to let <i>Maria</i> know who
+he was, to see how long it would be, before she knew him or would call
+him to mind. But <i>Isabella</i> commanded <i>Maria</i>, to make up a
+Bed in such a Chamber, without disturbing her Fellows, and dismiss’d her
+from waiting at Table. The Maid admir’d, what
+<span class = "pagenum">314</span>
+strange, good, and joyful News, this Man had brought her Mistress, that
+he was so Treated, and alone with her, which never any Man had yet been;
+but she never imagin’d the Truth, and knew her Lady’s Prudence too well,
+to question her Conduct. While they were at Supper, <i>Isabella</i>
+oblig’d him to tell her, How he came to be reported Dead; of which, she
+receiv’d Letters, both from Monsieur <i>Villenoys</i>, and the Duke of
+<i>Beaufort</i>, and by his Man the News, who saw him Dead? He told her,
+That, after the Fight, of which, first, he gave her an account, he being
+left among the Dead, when the Enemy came to Plunder and strip ’em, they
+found, he had Life in him, and appearing as an Eminent Person, they
+thought it better Booty to save me, (continu’d&nbsp;he) and get my
+Ransom, than to strip me, and bury me among the Dead; so they bore me
+off to a Tent, and recover’d me to Life; and, after that, I&nbsp;was
+recover’d of my Wounds, and sold, by the Soldier that had taken me, to a
+Spahee, who kept me a Slave, setting a great Ransom on me, such as I was
+not able to pay. I&nbsp;writ several times, to give you, and my Father,
+an account of my Misery, but receiv’d no Answer, and endur’d seven Years
+of Dreadful Slavery: When I found, at last, an opportunity to make my
+Escape, and from that time, resolv’d, never to cut the Hair of this
+Beard, till I should either see my dearest <i>Isabella</i> again, or
+hear some News of her. All that I fear’d, was, That she was Dead; and,
+at that word, he fetch’d a deep Sigh; and viewing all things so
+infinitely more Magnificent than he had left ’em, or, believ’d, she
+could afford; and, that she was far more Beautiful in Person, and Rich
+in Dress, than when he left her: He had a thousand Torments of Jealousie
+that seiz’d him, of which, he durst not make any mention, but rather
+chose to wait a little, and see, whether she had lost her Virtue: He
+desir’d, he might send for a Barber, to put his Face in some handsomer
+Order, and more fit for the Happiness ’twas that Night
+<span class = "pagenum">315</span>
+to receive; but she told him, No Dress, no Disguise, could render him
+more Dear and Acceptable to her, and that to morrow was time enough, and
+that his Travels had render’d him more fit for Repose, than Dressing. So
+that after a little while, they had talk’d over all they had a mind to
+say, all that was very indearing on his side, and as much Concern as she
+could force, on hers; she conducted him to his Chamber, which was very
+rich, and which gave him a very great addition of Jealousie: However, he
+suffer’d her to help him to Bed, which she seem’d to do, with all the
+tenderness in the World; and when she had seen him laid, she said, She
+would go to her Prayers, and come to him as soon as she had done, which
+being before her usual Custom, it was not a wonder to him she stay’d
+long, and he, being extreamly tir’d with his Journy, fell asleep. ’Tis
+true, <i>Isabella</i> essay’d to Pray, but alas! it was in vain, she was
+distracted with a thousand Thoughts what to do, which the more she
+thought, the more it distracted her; she was a thousand times about to
+end her Life, and, at one stroke, rid her self of the Infamy, that, she
+saw, must inevitably fall upon her; but Nature was frail, and the
+Tempter strong: And after a thousand Convulsions, even worse than Death
+it self, she resolv’d upon the Murder of <i>Henault</i>, as the only
+means of removing all the obstacles to her future Happiness; she
+resolv’d on this, but after she had done so, she was seiz’d with so
+great Horror, that she imagin’d, if she perform’d it, she should run
+Mad; and yet, if she did not, she should be also Frantick, with the
+Shames and Miseries that would befal her; and believing the Murder the
+least Evil, since she could never live with him, she fix’d her Heart on
+that; and causing her self to be put immediately to Bed, in her own Bed,
+she made <i>Maria</i> go to hers, and when all was still, she softly
+rose, and taking a Candle with her, only in her Night-Gown and Slippers,
+she goes to the Bed of the Unfortunate <i>Henault</i>, with a Penknife
+<span class = "pagenum">316</span>
+in her hand; but considering, she knew not how to conceal the Blood,
+should she cut his Throat, she resolves to Strangle him, or Smother him
+with a Pillow; that last thought was no sooner borne, but put in
+Execution; and, as he soundly slept, she smother’d him without any
+Noise, or so much as his Strugling: But when she had done this dreadful
+Deed, and saw the dead Corps of her once-lov’d Lord, lye Smiling
+(as&nbsp;it were) upon her, she fell into a Swound with the Horror of
+the Deed, and it had been well for her she had there dy’d; but she
+reviv’d again, and awaken’d to more and new Horrors, she flyes all
+frighted from the Chamber, and fancies, the Phantom of her dead Lord
+persues her; she runs from Room to Room, and starts and stares, as if
+she saw him continually before her. Now all that was ever Soft and Dear
+to her, with him, comes into her Heart, and, she finds, he conquers
+anew, being Dead, who could not gain her Pity, while Living.</p>
+
+<p>While she was thus flying from her Guilt, in vain, she hears one
+knock with Authority at the Door: She is now more affrighted, if
+possible, and knows not whither to fly for Refuge; she fancies, they are
+already the Officers of Justice, and that Ten thousand Tortures and
+Wrecks are fastening on her, to make her confess the horrid Murder; the
+knocking increases, and so loud, that the Laundry Maids believing it to
+be the Woman that us’d to call them up, and help them to Wash, rose,
+and, opening the Door, let in <i>Villenoys</i>; who having been at his
+Country <i>Villa</i>, and finding there a Footman, instead of his
+Friend, who waited to tell him, His Master was fallen sick of the Small
+Pox, and could not wait on him, he took Horse, and came back to his
+lovely <i>Isabella</i>; but running up, as he us’d to do, to her
+Chamber, he found her not, and seeing a Light in another Room, he went
+in, but found <i>Isabella</i> flying from him, out at another Door, with
+all the speed she could, he admires at this Action, and the more,
+<span class = "pagenum">317</span>
+because his Maid told him Her Lady had been a Bed a good while; he grows
+a little Jealous, and persues her, but still she flies; at last he
+caught her in his Arms, where she fell into a swound, but quickly
+recovering, he set her down in a Chair, and, kneeling before her,
+implor’d to know what she ayl’d, and why she fled from him, who ador’d
+her? She only fix’d a ghastly Look upon him, and said, She was not well:
+‘Oh! (said&nbsp;he) put not me off with such poor Excuses,
+<i>Isabella</i> never fled from me, when Ill, but came to my Arms, and
+to my Bosom, to find a Cure; therefore, tell me, what’s the matter?’ At
+that, she fell a weeping in a most violent manner, and cry’d, She was
+for ever undone: He, being mov’d with Love and Compassion, conjur’d her
+to tell what she ayl’d: ‘Ah! (said she) thou and I, and all of us, are
+undone!’ At this, he lost all Patience and rav’d, and cry’d, Tell me,
+and tell me immediately, what’s the matter? When she saw his Face pale,
+and his Eyes fierce, she fell on her knees, and cry’d, ‘Oh! you can
+never Pardon me, if I should tell you, and yet, alas! I&nbsp;am innocent
+of Ill, by all that’s good, I&nbsp;am.’ But her Conscience accusing her
+at that word, she was silent. If thou art Innocent, said
+<i>Villenoys</i>, taking her up in his Arms, and kissing her wet Face,
+‘By all that’s Good, I&nbsp;Pardon thee, what ever thou hast done.’
+‘Alas! (said she) Oh! but I dare not name it, ’till you swear.’ ‘By all
+that’s Sacred, (reply’d&nbsp;he) and by whatever Oath you can oblige me
+to; by my inviolable Love to thee, and by thy own dear Self,
+I&nbsp;swear, whate’re it be, I&nbsp;do forgive thee; I&nbsp;know, thou
+art too good to commit a Sin I may not with Honour, pardon.’</p>
+
+<p>With this, and hearten’d by his Caresses, she told him, That
+<i>Henault</i> was return’d; and repeating to him his Escape, she said,
+She had put him to Bed, and when he expected her to come, she fell on
+her Knees at the Bedside, and confess’d, She was married to
+<i>Villenoys</i>; at that word (said she) he fetch’d a deep Sigh or two,
+and presently
+<span class = "pagenum">318</span>
+after, with a very little struggling, dy’d; and, yonder, he lyes still
+in the Bed. After this, she wept so abundantly, that all
+<i>Villenoys</i> could do, could hardly calm her Spirits; but after,
+consulting what they should do in this Affair, <i>Villenoys</i> ask’d
+her, Who of the House saw him? She said, Only <i>Maria</i>, who knew not
+who he was; so that, resolving to save <i>Isabella’s</i> Honour, which
+was the only Misfortune to come, <i>Villenoys</i> himself propos’d the
+carrying him out to the Bridge, and throwing him into the River, where
+the Stream would carry him down to the Sea, and lose him; or, if he were
+found, none could know him. So <i>Villenoys</i> took a Candle, and went
+and look’d on him, and found him altogether chang’d, that no Body would
+know who he was; he therefore put on his Clothes, which was not hard for
+him to do, for he was scarce yet cold, and comforting again
+<i>Isabella</i>, as well as he could, he went himself into the Stable,
+and fetched a Sack, such as they us’d for Oats, a&nbsp;new Sack, whereon
+stuck a great Needle, with a Pack-thread in it; this Sack he brings into
+the House, and shews to <i>Isabella</i>, telling her, He would put the
+Body in there, for the better convenience of carrying it on his Back.
+<i>Isabella</i> all this while said but little, but, fill’d with
+Thoughts all Black and Hellish, she ponder’d within, while the Fond and
+Passionate <i>Villenoys</i> was endeavouring to hide her Shame, and to
+make this an absolute Secret: She imagin’d, that could she live after a
+Deed so black, <i>Villenoys</i> would be eternal reproaching her, if not
+with his Tongue, at least with his Heart, and embolden’d by one
+Wickedness, she was the readier for another, and another of such a
+Nature, as has, in my Opinion, far less Excuse, than the first; but when
+Fate begins to afflict, she goes through stitch with her Black Work.</p>
+
+<p>When <i>Villenoys</i>, who would, for the Safety of <i>Isabella’s</i>
+Honour, be the sole Actor in the disposing of this Body; and since he
+was Young, Vigorous, and Strong, and able
+<span class = "pagenum">319</span>
+to bear it, would trust no one with the Secret, he having put up the
+Body, and ty’d it fast, set it on a Chair, turning his Back towards it,
+with the more conveniency to take it upon his Back, bidding
+<i>Isabella</i> give him the two Corners of the Sack in his Hands;
+telling her, They must do this last office for the Dead, more, in order
+to the securing their Honour and Tranquility hereafter, than for any
+other Reason, and bid her be of good Courage, till he came back, for it
+was not far to the Bridge, and it being the dead of the Night, he should
+pass well enough. When he had the Sack on his Back, and ready to go with
+it, she cry’d, Stay, my Dear, some of his Clothes hang out, which I will
+put in; and with that, taking the Pack-needle with the Thread, sew’d the
+Sack, with several strong Stitches, to the Collar of <i>Villenoy’s</i>
+Coat, without his perceiving it, and bid him go now; and when you come
+to the Bridge, (said she) and that you are throwing him over the Rail,
+(which is not above Breast high) be sure you give him a good swing,
+least the Sack should hang on any thing at the side of the Bridge, and
+not fall into the Stream; I’le warrant you, (said <i>Villenoys</i>) I
+know how to secure his falling. And going his way with it, Love lent him
+Strength, and he soon arriv’d at the Bridge; where, turning his Back to
+the Rail, and heaving the Body over, he threw himself with all his force
+backward, the better to swing the Body into the River, whose weight
+(it&nbsp;being made fast to his Collar) pull’d <i>Villenoys</i> after
+it, and both the live and the dead Man falling into the River, which,
+being rapid at the Bridge, soon drown’d him, especially when so great a
+weight hung to his Neck; so that he dy’d, without considering what was
+the occasion of his Fate.</p>
+
+<p><i>Isabella</i> remain’d the most part of the Night sitting in her
+Chamber, without going to Bed, to see what would become of her Damnable
+Design; but when it was towards Morning, and she heard no News, she put
+herself into
+<span class = "pagenum">320</span>
+Bed, but not to find Repose or Rest there, for that she thought
+impossible, after so great a Barbarity as she had committed; No, (said
+she) it is but just I should for ever wake, who have, in one fatal
+Night, destroy’d two such Innocents. Oh! what Fate, what Destiny, is
+mine? Under what cursed Planet was I born, that Heaven it self could not
+divert my Ruine? It was not many Hours since I thought my self the most
+happy and blest of Women, and now am fallen to the Misery of one of the
+worst Fiends of Hell.</p>
+
+<p>Such were her Thoughts, and such her Cryes, till the Light brought on
+new Matter for Grief; for, about Ten of the Clock, News was brought,
+that Two Men were found dead in the River, and that they were carry’d to
+the Town-Hall, to lye there, till they were own’d: Within an hour after,
+News was brought in, that one of these Unhappy Men was <i>Villenoys</i>;
+his <i>Valet</i>, who, all this while, imagin’d him in Bed with his
+Lady, ran to the Hall, to undeceive the People, for he knew, if his Lord
+were gone out, he should have been call’d to Dress him; but finding it,
+as ’twas reported, he fell a weeping, and wringing his Hands, in a most
+miserable manner, he ran home with the News; where, knocking at his
+Lady’s Chamber Door, and finding it fast lock’d, he almost hop’d again,
+he was deceiv’d; but <i>Isabella</i> rising, and opening the Door,
+<i>Maria</i> first enter’d weeping, with the News, and then brought the
+<i>Valet</i>, to testify the fatal Truth of it. <i>Isabella</i>, tho’ it
+were nothing but what she expected to hear, almost swounded in her
+Chair; nor did she feign it, but felt really all the Pangs of Killing
+Grief; and was so alter’d with her Night’s Watching and Grieving, that
+this new Sorrow look’d very Natural in her. When she was recover’d, she
+asked a thousand Questions about him, and question’d the Possibility of
+it; for (said she) he went out this Morning early from me, and had no
+signs, in his Face, of any Grief or Discontent. Alas! (said the
+<i>Valet</i>)
+<span class = "pagenum">321</span>
+Madam, he is not his own Murderer, some one has done it in Revenge; and
+then told her, how he was found fasten’d to a Sack, with a dead strange
+Man ty’d up within it; and every body concludes, that they were both
+first murder’d, and then drawn to the River, and thrown both in. At the
+Relation of this Strange Man, she seem’d more amaz’d than before, and
+commanding the <i>Valet</i> to go to the Hall, and to take Order about
+the Coroner’s sitting on the Body of <i>Villenoys</i>, and then to have
+it brought home: She called <i>Maria</i> to her, and, after bidding her
+shut the Door, she cry’d, Ah, <i>Maria</i>! I will tell thee what my
+Heart imagins; but first, (said she) run to the Chamber of the Stranger,
+and see, if he be still in Bed, which I fear he is not; she did so, and
+brought word, he was gone; then (said she) my Forebodings are true. When
+I was in Bed last night, with <i>Villenoys</i> (and at that word, she
+sigh’d as if her Heart-Strings had broken) I&nbsp;told him, I&nbsp;had
+lodg’d a Stranger in my House, who was by, when my first Lord and
+Husband fell in Battel; and that, after the Fight, finding him yet
+alive, he spoke to him, and gave him that Ring you brought me last
+Night; and conjur’d him, if ever his Fortune should bring him to
+<i>Flanders</i>, to see me, and give me that Ring, and tell
+me&mdash;(with that, she wept, and could scarce speak) a&nbsp;thousand
+tender and endearing things, and then dy’d in his Arms. For my dear
+<i>Henault’s</i> sake (said she) I&nbsp;us’d him nobly, and dismiss’d
+you that Night, because I was asham’d to have any Witness of the Griefs
+I paid his Memory: All this I told to <i>Villenoys</i> whom I found
+disorder’d; and, after a sleepless Night, I&nbsp;fancy he got up, and
+took this poor Man, and has occasion’d his Death: At that, she wept
+anew, and <i>Maria</i>, to whom, all that her Mistress said, was Gospel,
+verily believ’d it so, without examining Reason; and <i>Isabella</i>
+conjuring her, since none of the House knew of the old Man’s being
+there, (for Old he appear’d to&nbsp;be) that she would let it for ever
+be a Secret,
+<span class = "pagenum">322</span>
+and, to this she bound her by an Oath; so that none knowing
+<i>Henault</i>, altho’ his Body was expos’d there for three Days to
+Publick View: When the Coroner had Set on the Bodies, he found, they had
+been first Murder’d some way or other, and then afterwards tack’d
+together, and thrown into the River, they brought the Body of
+<i>Villenoys</i> home to his House, where, it being laid on a Table, all
+the House infinitely bewail’d it; and <i>Isabella</i> did nothing but
+swound away, almost as fast as she recover’d Life; however, she would,
+to compleat her Misery, be led to see this dreadful Victim of her
+Cruelty, and, coming near the Table, the Body, whose Eyes were before
+close shut, now open’d themselves wide, and fix’d them upon
+<i>Isabella</i>, who, giving a great Schreek, fell down in a swound, and
+the Eyes clos’d again; they had much ado to bring her to Life, but, at
+last, they did so, and led her back to her Bed, where she remain’d a
+good while. Different Opinions and Discourses were made, concerning the
+opening of the Eyes of the Dead Man, and viewing <i>Isabella</i>; but
+she was a Woman of so admirable a Life and Conversation, of so undoubted
+a Piety and Sanctity of Living, that not the least Conjecture could be
+made, of her having a hand in it, besides the improbability of it; yet
+the whole thing was a Mystery, which, they thought, they ought to look
+into: But a few Days after, the Body of <i>Villenoys</i> being interr’d
+in a most magnificent manner, and, by Will all he had, was long since
+setled on <i>Isabella</i>, the World, instead of Suspecting her, Ador’d
+her the more, and every Body of Quality was already hoping to be next,
+tho’ the fair Mourner still kept her Bed, and Languish’d daily.</p>
+
+<p>It happen’d, not long after this, there came to the Town a
+<i>French</i> Gentleman, who was taken at the Siege of <i>Candia</i>,
+and was Fellow-Slave with <i>Henault</i>, for seven Years, in
+<i>Turky</i>, and who had escap’d with <i>Henault</i>, and came as far
+as <i>Liege</i> with him, where, having some
+<span class = "pagenum">323</span>
+Business and Acquaintance with a Merchant, he stay’d some time; but when
+he parted with <i>Henault</i>, he ask’d him, Where he should find him in
+<i>Flanders</i>? <i>Henault</i> gave him a Note, with his Name, and
+Place of Abode, if his Wife were alive; if not, to enquire at his
+Sister’s, or his Father’s. This <i>French</i> Man came at last, to the
+very House of <i>Isabella</i>, enquiring for this Man, and receiv’d a
+strange Answer, and was laugh’d at; He found, that was the House, and
+that the Lady; and enquiring about the Town, and speaking of
+<i>Henault’s</i> Return, describing the Man, it was quickly discover’d,
+to be the same that was in the Sack: He had his Friend taken up (for he
+was buried) and found him the same, and, causing a <i>Barber</i> to Trim
+him, when his bushy Beard was off, a&nbsp;great many People remember’d
+him; and the <i>French</i> Man affirming, he went to his own Home, all
+<i>Isabella’s</i> Family, and her self, were cited before the Magistrate
+of Justice, where, as soon as she was accus’d, she confess’d the whole
+Matter of Fact, and, without any Disorder, deliver’d her self in the
+Hands of Justice, as the Murderess of two Husbands (both belov’d) in one
+Night: The whole World stood amaz’d at this; who knew her Life a Holy
+and Charitable Life, and how dearly and well she had liv’d with her
+Husbands, and every one bewail’d her Misfortune, and she alone was the
+only Person, that was not afflicted for her self; she was Try’d, and
+Condemn’d to lose her Head; which Sentence, she joyfully receiv’d, and
+said, Heaven, and her Judges, were too Merciful to her, and that her
+Sins had deserv’d much more.</p>
+
+<p>While she was in Prison, she was always at Prayers, and very Chearful
+and Easie, distributing all she had amongst, and for the Use of, the
+Poor of the Town, especially to the Poor Widows; exhorting daily, the
+Young, and the Fair, that came perpetually to visit her, never to break
+a Vow: for that was first the Ruine of her, and she never since
+prosper’d, do whatever other good Deeds she could.
+<span class = "pagenum">324</span>
+When the day of Execution came, she appear’d on the Scaffold all in
+Mourning, but with a Meen so very Majestick and Charming, and a Face so
+surprizing Fair, where no Languishment or Fear appear’d, but all
+Chearful as a Bride, that she set all Hearts a flaming, even in that
+mortifying Minute of Preparation for Death: She made a Speech of half an
+Hour long, so Eloquent, so admirable a warning to the
+<i>Vow-Breakers</i>, that it was as amazing to hear her, as it was to
+behold her.</p>
+
+<p>After she had done with the help of <i>Maria</i>, she put off her
+Mourning Vail, and, without any thing over her Face, she kneel’d down,
+and the Executioner, at one Blow, sever’d her Beautiful Head from her
+Delicate Body, being then in her Seven and Twentieth Year. She was
+generally Lamented, and Honourably Bury’d.</p>
+
+<h4 class = "final">FINIS.</h4>
+
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<h5><a name = "history_notes" id = "history_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The History of the Nun.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "nun_comm1" id = "nun_comm1" href = "#nun_commtag1">p. 262</a>
+<i>The Dutchess of Mazarine.</i> Hortense Mancini, niece of the great
+Cardinal, was born at Rome in 1646. Her beauty and wit were such that
+Charles II (whilst in exile) and other princes of royal blood sought her
+hand. She married, however, 28 February, 1661, Armand-Charles
+<span class = "pagenum">522</span>
+de la Meilleraye, said to be ‘the richest subject in Europe’. The union
+was unhappy, and in 1666 she demanded a judicial separation. Fearful,
+however, lest this should be refused, she fled from Paris 13 June, 1668,
+and, after several years of wandering, in 1675 came to London at the
+invitation of Charles II, who assigned her a pension. Her gallantries,
+her friendship with Saint-Evremond, her lavish patronage of the fine
+arts and literature are well known. She died at her Chelsea house in the
+summer of 1699. Her end is said to have been hastened by intemperance.
+Evelyn dubs her ‘the famous beauty and errant lady.’</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">325</span>
+<a name = "nun_perjurd" id = "nun_perjurd">&nbsp;</a>
+
+<h3>THE NUN; OR,<br>
+THE PERJUR’D BEAUTY.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">327</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "perjurd_main" id = "perjurd_main">THE NUN:</a><br>
+or, The Perjur’d Beauty.<br>
+<span class = "smallcaps">A True Novel.</span></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">Don</span> <i>Henrique</i> was a Person of
+great Birth, of a great Estate, of a Bravery equal to either, of a most
+generous Education, but of more Passion than Reason: He was besides of
+an opener and freer Temper than generally his Countrymen are
+(I&nbsp;mean, the <i>Spaniards</i>) and always engag’d in some
+Love-Intrigue or other.</p>
+
+<p>One Night as he was retreating from one of those Engagements, Don
+<i>Sebastian</i>, whose Sister he had abus’d with a Promise of Marriage,
+set upon him at the Corner of a Street, in <i>Madrid</i>, and by the
+Help of three of his Friends, design’d to have dispatch’d him on a
+doubtful Embassy to the Almighty Monarch: But he receiv’d their first
+Instructions with better Address than they expected, and dismiss’d his
+Envoy first, killing one of Don <i>Sebastian’s</i> Friends. Which so
+enrag’d the injur’d Brother, that his Strength and Resolution seem’d to
+be redoubled, and so animated his two surviving Companions, that
+(doubtless) they had gain’d a dishonourable Victory, had not Don
+<i>Antonio</i> accidentally come in to the Rescue; who after a short
+Dispute, kill’d one of the two who attack’d him only; whilst Don
+<i>Henrique</i>, with the greatest Difficulty, defended his Life, for
+some Moments, against <i>Sebastian</i>, whose Rage depriv’d him of
+Strength, and gave his Adversary the unwish’d Advantage of his seeming
+Death, tho’ not without bequeathing some bloody Legacies to Don
+<i>Henrique</i>. <i>Antonio</i> had receiv’d but one slight Wound in the
+left Arm, and his surviving Antagonist none; who however thought it not
+adviseable to begin a fresh Dispute against two, of whose Courage he had
+but too fatal a
+<span class = "pagenum">328</span>
+Proof, tho’ one of ’em was sufficiently disabled. The Conquerors, on the
+other Side, politickly retreated, and quitting the Field to the
+Conquer’d, left the Living to bury the Dead, if he could, or thought
+convenient.</p>
+
+<p>As they were marching off, Don <i>Antonio</i>, who all this while
+knew not whose Life he had so happily preserv’d, told his Companion in
+Arms, that he thought it indispensibly necessary that he should quarter
+with him that Night, for his further Preservation. To which he prudently
+consented, and went, with no little Uneasiness, to his Lodgings; where
+he surpriz’d <i>Antonio</i> with the Sight of his dearest Friend. For
+they had certainly the nearest Sympathy in all their Thoughts, that ever
+made two brave Men unhappy: And, undoubtedly, nothing but Death, or more
+fatal Love, could have divided them. However, at present, they were
+united and secure.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time, Don <i>Sebastian’s</i> Friend was just going to
+call Help to carry off the Bodies, as the <span class =
+"dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span> came by; who seeing three Men lie dead,
+seiz’d the fourth; who as he was about to justify himself, by
+discovering one of the Authors of so much Blood-shed, was interrupted by
+a Groan from his supposed dead Friend Don <i>Sebastian</i>; whom, after
+a brief Account of some Part of the Matter, and the Knowledge of his
+Quality, they took up, and carried to his House; where, within a few
+Days, he was recovered past the Fear of Death. All this While
+<i>Henrique</i> and <i>Antonio</i> durst not appear, so much as by
+Night; nor could be found, tho’ diligent and daily Search was made after
+the first; but upon Don <i>Sebastian’s</i> Recovery, the Search ceasing,
+they took the Advantage of the Night, and, in Disguise, retreated to
+<i>Seville</i>. ’Twas there they thought themselves most secure, where
+indeed they were in the greatest Danger; for tho’ (haply) they might
+there have escap’d the murderous Attempt of Don <i>Sebastian</i>, and
+his Friends, yet they could not there avoid the malicious Influence of
+their Stars.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">329</span>
+<p>This City gave Birth to <i>Antonio</i>, and to the Cause of his
+greatest Misfortunes, as well as of his Death. Dona <i>Ardelia</i> was
+born there, a&nbsp;Miracle of Beauty and Falshood. ’Twas more than a
+Year since Don <i>Antonio</i> had first seen and loved her. For ’twas
+impossible any Man should do one without the other. He had had the
+unkind Opportunity of speaking and conveying a Billet to her at Church;
+and to his greater Misfortune, the next Time he found her there, he met
+with too Kind a Return both from her Eyes and from her Hand, which
+privately slipt a Paper into his; in which he found abundantly more than
+he expected, directing him in that, how he should proceed, in order to
+carry her off from her Father with the least Danger he could look for in
+such an Attempt; since it would have been vain and fruitless to have
+asked her of her Father, because their Families had been at Enmity for
+several Years; tho’ <i>Antonio</i> was as well descended as she, and had
+as ample a Fortune; nor was his Person, according to his Sex, any way
+inferior to her’s; and certainly, the Beauties of his Mind were more
+excellent, especially if it be an Excellence to be constant.</p>
+
+<p>He had made several Attempts to take Possession of her; but all
+prov’d ineffectual; however, he had the good Fortune not to be known,
+tho’ once or twice he narrowly escap’d with Life, bearing off his Wounds
+with Difficulty.&mdash;(Alas, that the Wounds of Love should cause those
+of Hate!) Upon which she was strictly confin’d to one Room, whose only
+Window was towards the Garden, and that too was grated with Iron; and,
+once a Month, when she went to Church, she was constantly and carefully
+attended by her Father, and a Mother-in-Law, worse than a <i>Duegna</i>.
+Under this miserable Confinement <i>Antonio</i> understood she still
+continued, at his Return to <i>Seville</i>, with Don <i>Henrique</i>,
+whom he acquainted with his invincible Passion for her; lamenting the
+Severity of her present Circumstances, that admitted of no Prospect
+<span class = "pagenum">330</span>
+of Relief; which caus’d a generous Concern in Don <i>Henrique</i>, both
+for the Sufferings of his Friend, and of the Lady. He proposed several
+Ways to Don <i>Antonio</i>, for the Release of the fair Prisoner; but
+none of them was thought practicable, or at least likely to succeed. But
+<i>Antonio</i>, who (you may believe) was then more nearly engag’d,
+bethought himself of an Expedient that would undoubtedly reward their
+Endeavours. ’Twas, that Don <i>Henrique</i>, who was very well
+acquainted with <i>Ardelia’s</i> Father, should make him a Visit, with
+Pretence of begging his Consent and Admission to make his Addresses to
+his Daughter; which, in all Probability, he could not refuse to Don
+<i>Henrique’s</i> Quality and Estate; and then this Freedom of Access to
+her would give him the Opportunity of delivering the Lady to his Friend.
+This was thought so reasonable, that the very next Day it was put in
+Practice; and with so good Success, that Don <i>Henrique</i> was
+received by the Father of <i>Ardelia</i> with the greatest and most
+respectful Ceremony imaginable: And when he made the Proposal to him of
+marrying his Daughter, it was embraced with a visible Satisfaction and
+Joy in the Air of his Face. This their first Conversation ended with all
+imaginable Content on both Sides; Don <i>Henrique</i> being invited by
+the Father to Dinner the next Day, when Dona <i>Ardelia</i> was to be
+present; who, at that Time, was said to be indispos’d, (as&nbsp;’tis
+very probable she was, with so close an Imprisonment.) <i>Henrique</i>
+returned to <i>Antonio</i>, and made him happy with the Account of his
+Reception; which could not but have terminated in the perfect Felicity
+of <i>Antonio</i>, had his Fate been just to the Merits of his Love. The
+Day and Hour came which brought <i>Henrique</i>, with a private
+Commission from his Friend, to <i>Ardelia</i>. He saw
+her;&mdash;(ah!&nbsp;would he had only seen her veil’d!) and, with the
+first Opportunity, gave her the Letter, which held so much Love, and so
+much Truth, as ought to have preserved him in the Empire of her Heart.
+It
+<span class = "pagenum">331</span>
+contained, besides, a&nbsp;Discovery of his whole Design upon her
+Father, for the compleating of their Happiness; which nothing then could
+obstruct but her self. But <i>Henrique</i> had seen her; he had gaz’d,
+and swallowed all her Beauties at his Eyes. How greedily his Soul drank
+the strong Poison in! But yet his Honour and his Friendship were strong
+as ever, and bravely fought against the Usurper Love, and got a noble
+Victory; at least he thought and wish’d so. With this, and a short
+Answer to his Letter, <i>Henrique</i> return’d to the longing
+<i>Antonio</i>; who, receiving the Paper with the greatest Devotion, and
+kissing it with the greatest Zeal, open’d and read these Words to
+himself:</p>
+
+<p class = "salutation">
+<i>Don <em>Antonio</em>,</i></p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword">You</span> have, at last, made Use of the best
+and only Expedient for my Enlargement; for which I thank you, since I
+know it is purely the Effect of your Love. Your Agent has a mighty
+Influence on my Father: And you may assure yourself, that as you have
+advis’d and desir’d me, he shall have no less on me, who&nbsp;am</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+Your’s entirely,<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp;</span>&emsp;And only your’s,<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; &nbsp;</span>&emsp;<i>ARDELIA</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Having respectfully and tenderly kiss’d the Name, he could not chuse
+but shew the <i>Billet</i> to his Friend; who reading that Part of it
+which concern’d himself, started and blush’d: Which <i>Antonio</i>
+observing, was curious to know the Cause of it. <i>Henrique</i> told
+him, That he was surpriz’d to find her express so little Love, after so
+long an Absence. To which his Friend reply’d for her, That, doubtless,
+she had not Time enough to attempt so great a Matter as a perfect
+Account of her Love; and added, that it was Confirmation enough to him
+of its Continuance, since she subscrib’d her self his entirely, and only
+his.&mdash;How blind is Love! Don <i>Henrique</i> knew how to make it
+bear another Meaning; which, however, he had
+<span class = "pagenum">332</span>
+the Discretion to conceal. <i>Antonio</i>, who was as real in his
+Friendship, as constant in his Love, ask’d him what he thought of her
+Beauty? To which the other answer’d, that he thought it irresistable to
+any, but to a Soul preposses’d, and nobly fortify’d with a perfect
+Friendship:&mdash;Such as is thine, my <i>Henrique</i>, (added
+<i>Antonio</i>;) yet as sincere and perfect as that is, I&nbsp;know you
+must, nay, I&nbsp;know you do love her. As I ought to do, (reply’d
+<i>Henrique</i>.) Yes, yes, (return’d his Friend) it must be so;
+otherwise the Sympathy which unites our Souls would be wanting, and
+consequently our Friendship were in a State of Imperfection. How
+industriously you would argue me into a Crime, that would tear and
+destroy the Foundation of the strongest Ties of Truth and Honour! (said
+<i>Henrique</i>.) But (he&nbsp;continu’d) I&nbsp;hope within a few Days,
+to put it out of my Power to be guilty of so great a Sacrilege.
+I&nbsp;can’t determine (said <i>Antonio</i>) if I knew that you lov’d
+one another, whether I could easier part with my Friend, or my Mistress.
+Tho’ what you say, is highly generous, (reply’d <i>Henrique</i>) yet
+give me Leave to urge, that it looks like a Trial of Friendship, and
+argues you inclinable to Jealousy: But, pardon me, I&nbsp;know it to be
+sincerely meant by you; and must therefore own, that ’tis the best,
+because ’tis the noblest Way of securing both your Friend and Mistress.
+I&nbsp;need not make use of any Arts to secure me of either, (reply’d
+<i>Antonio</i>) but expect to enjoy ’em both in a little Time.</p>
+
+<p><i>Henrique</i>, who was a little uneasy with a Discourse of this
+Nature, diverted it, by reflecting on what had pass’d at <i>Madrid</i>,
+between them two and Don <i>Sebastian</i> and his Friends; which caus’d
+<i>Antonio</i> to bethink himself of the Danger to which he expos’d his
+Friend, by appearing daily, tho’ in Disguise: For, doubtless, Don
+<i>Sebastian</i> would pursue his Revenge to the utmost Extremity. These
+Thoughts put him upon desiring his Friend, for his own Sake, to hasten
+the Performance of his Attempt; and
+<span class = "pagenum">333</span>
+accordingly, each Day Don <i>Henrique</i> brought <i>Antonio</i> nearer
+the Hopes of Happiness, while he himself was hourly sinking into the
+lowest State of Misery. The last Night before the Day in which
+<i>Antonio</i> expected to be bless’d in her Love, Don <i>Henrique</i>
+had a long and fatal Conference with her about her Liberty. Being then
+with her alone in an Arbour of the Garden, which Privilege he had had
+for some Days; after a long Silence, and observing Don <i>Henrique</i>
+in much Disorder, by the Motion of his Eyes, which were sometimes
+stedfastly fix’d on the Ground, then lifted up to her or Heaven, (for he
+could see nothing more beautiful on Earth) she made use of the Privilege
+of her Sex, and began the Discourse first, to this Effect:&mdash;Has any
+Thing happened, Sir, since our Retreat hither, to occasion that Disorder
+which is but too visible in your Face, and too dreadful in your
+continued Silence? Speak, I&nbsp;beseech you, Sir, and let me know if I
+have any Way unhappily contributed to it! No, Madam, (replyed&nbsp;he)
+my Friendship is now likely to be the only Cause of my greatest Misery;
+for To-morrow I must be guilty of an unpardonable Crime, in betraying
+the generous Confidence which your noble Father has plac’d in me:
+To-morrow (added he, with a piteous Sigh) I&nbsp;must deliver you into
+the Hands of one whom your Father hates even to Death, instead of doing
+myself the Honour of becoming his Son-in-law within a few Days
+more.&mdash;But&mdash;I&nbsp;will consider and remind myself, that I
+give you into the Hands of my Friend; of my Friend, that loves you
+better than his Life, which he has often expos’d for your Sake; and what
+is more than all, to my Friend, whom you love more than any
+Consideration on Earth.&mdash;And must this be done? (she ask’d.) Is it
+inevitable as Fate?&mdash;Fix’d as the Laws of Nature, Madam,
+(reply’d&nbsp;he) don’t you find the Necessity of it, <i>Ardelia</i>?
+(continued he, by Way of Question:) Does not your Love require it?
+Think, you are going to your dear <i>Antonio</i>, who alone can merit
+you, and whom only
+<span class = "pagenum">334</span>
+you can love. Were your last Words true (returned she) I&nbsp;should yet
+be unhappy in the Displeasure of a dear and tender Father, and
+infinitely more, in being the Cause of your Infidelity to him: No, Don
+<i>Henrique</i> (continued she) I&nbsp;could with greater Satisfaction
+return to my miserable Confinement, than by any Means disturb the Peace
+of your Mind, or occasion one Moment’s Interruption of your
+Quiet.&mdash;Would to Heaven you did not, (sigh’d he to himself.) Then
+addressing his Words more distinctly to her, cry’d he, Ah, cruel! ah,
+unjust <i>Ardelia</i>! these Words belong to none but <i>Antonio</i>;
+why then would you endeavour to persuade me, that I do, or even can
+merit the Tenderness of such an Expression?&mdash;Have a Care!
+(pursued&nbsp;he) have a Care, <i>Ardelia</i>! your outward Beauties are
+too powerful to be resisted; even your Frowns have such a Sweetness that
+they attract the very Soul that is not strongly prepossessed with the
+noblest Friendship, and the highest Principles of Honour: Why then,
+alas! did you add such sweet and Charming Accents? Why&mdash;ah, Don
+<i>Henrique</i>! (she interrupted) why did you appear to me so charming
+in your Person, so great in your Friendship, and so illustrious in your
+Reputation? Why did my Father, ever since your first Visit, continually
+fill my Ears and Thoughts with noble Characters and glorious Ideas,
+which yet but imperfectly and faintly represent the inimitable
+Original!&mdash;But&mdash;(what is most severe and cruel) why, Don
+<i>Henrique</i>, why will you defeat my Father in his Ambition of your
+Alliance, and me of those glorious Hopes with which you had bless’d my
+Soul, by casting me away from you to <i>Antonio</i>!&mdash;Ha! (cry’d
+he, starting) what said you, Madam? What did <i>Ardelia</i> say? That I
+had bless’d your Soul with Hopes! That I would cast you away to
+<i>Antonio</i>!&mdash;Can they who safely arrive in their wish’d-for
+Port, be said to be shipwreck’d? Or, can an abject indigent Wretch make
+a King?&mdash;These are more than Riddles, Madam; and I must not think
+to expound ’em.
+<span class = "pagenum">335</span>
+No, (said she) let it alone, Don <i>Henrique</i>; I’ll ease you of that
+Trouble, and tell you plainly that I love you. Ah! (cry’d&nbsp;he) now
+all my Fears are come upon me!&mdash;How! (ask’d she) were you afraid I
+should love you? Is my Love so dreadful then? Yes, when misplac’d
+(reply’d&nbsp;he;) but ’twas your Falshood that I fear’d: Your Love was
+what I would have sought with the utmost Hazard of my Life, nay, even of
+my future Happiness, I&nbsp;fear, had you not been engag’d: strongly
+oblig’d to love elsewhere, both by your own Choice and Vows, as well as
+by his dangerous Services, and matchless Constancy. For which (said she)
+I&nbsp;do not hate him, tho’ his Father kill’d my Uncle: Nay, perhaps
+(continu’d she) I&nbsp;have a Friendship for him, but no more. No more,
+said you, Madam? (cry’d&nbsp;he;)&mdash;but tell me, did you never love
+him? Indeed, I&nbsp;did, (reply’d she;) but the Sight of you has better
+instructed me, both in my Duty to my Father, and in causing my Passion
+for you, without whom I shall be eternally miserable. Ah, then pursue
+your honourable Proposal, and make my Father happy in my Marriage! It
+must not be (return’d Don <i>Henrique</i>) my Honour, my Friendship
+forbids it. No (she return’d) your Honour requires it; and if your
+Friendship opposes your Honour, it can have no sure and solid
+Foundation. Female Sophistry! (cry’d <i>Henrique</i>;) but you need no
+Art nor Artifice, <i>Ardelia</i>, to make me love you: Love you!
+(pursu’d&nbsp;he:) By that bright Sun, the Light and Heat of all the
+World, you are my only Light and Heat&mdash;Oh, Friendship! Sacred
+Friendship, now assist me!&mdash;[Here for a Time he paus’d, and then
+afresh proceeded thus,]&mdash;You told me, or my Ears deceiv’d me, that
+you lov’d me, <i>Ardelia</i>. I did, she reply’d; and that I do love
+you, is as true as that I told you so. ’Tis well;&mdash;But would it
+were not so! Did ever Man receive a Blessing thus?&mdash;Why,
+I&nbsp;could wish I did not love you, <i>Ardelia</i>! But that were
+impossible&mdash;At least unjust, (interrupted she.) Well then
+(he&nbsp;went&nbsp;on) to shew
+<span class = "pagenum">336</span>
+you that I do sincerely consult your particular Happiness, without any
+regard to my own, To-morrow I will give you to Don <i>Antonio</i>; and
+as a Proof of your Love to me, I&nbsp;expect your ready Consent to it.
+To let you see, Don <i>Henrique</i>, how perfectly and tenderly I love
+you, I&nbsp;will be sacrificed To-morrow to Don <i>Antonio</i>, and to
+your Quiet. Oh, strongest, dearest Obligation!&mdash;cry’d
+<i>Henrique</i>: To-morrow then, as I have told your Father, I&nbsp;am
+to bring you to see the dearest Friend I have on Earth, who dares not
+appear within this City for some unhappy Reasons, and therefore cannot
+be present at our Nuptials; for which Cause, I&nbsp;could not but think
+it my Duty to one so nearly related to my Soul, to make him happy in the
+Sight of my beautiful Choice, e’er yet she be my Bride. I&nbsp;hope
+(said she) my loving Obedience may merit your Compassion; and that at
+last, e’er the Fire is lighted that must consume the Offering,
+I&nbsp;mean the Marriage-Tapers (alluding to the old <i>Roman</i>
+Ceremony) that you or some other pitying Angel, will snatch me from the
+Altar. Ah, no more, <i>Ardelia</i>! say no more (cry’d&nbsp;he) we must
+be cruel, to be just to our selves. [Here their Discourse ended, and
+they walked into the House, where they found the good old Gentleman and
+his Lady, with whom he stay’d till about an Hour after Supper, when he
+returned to his Friend with joyful News, but a sorrowful Heart.]</p>
+
+<p><i>Antonio</i> was all Rapture with the Thoughts of the approaching
+Day; which tho’ it brought Don <i>Henrique</i> and his dear
+<i>Ardelia</i> to him, about five o’Clock in the Evening, yet at the
+same Time brought his last and greatest Misfortune. He saw her then at a
+She Relation’s of his, above three Miles from <i>Seville</i>, which was
+the Place assigned for their fatal Interview. He saw her, I&nbsp;say;
+but ah! how strange! how altered from the dear, kind <i>Ardelia</i> she
+was when last he left her! ’Tis true, he flew to her with Arms expanded,
+and with so swift and eager a Motion, that she could not avoid, nor get
+loose from
+<span class = "pagenum">337</span>
+his Embrace, till he had kissed, and sighed, and dropt some Tears, which
+all the Strength of his Mind could not restrain; whether they were the
+Effects of Joy, or whether (which rather may be feared) they were the
+Heat-drops which preceded and threaten’d the Thunder and Tempest that
+should fall on his Head, I&nbsp;cannot positively say; yet all this she
+was then forced to endure, e’er she had Liberty to speak, or indeed to
+breathe. But as soon as she had freed herself from the loving Circle
+that should have been the dear and lov’d Confinement or Centre of a
+Faithful Heart, she began to dart whole Showers of Tortures on him from
+her Eyes; which that Mouth that he had just before so tenderly and
+sacredly kiss’d, seconded with whole Volleys of Deaths crammed in every
+Sentence, pointed with the keenest Affliction that ever pierc’d a Soul.
+<i>Antonio</i>, (she began) you have treated me now as if you were never
+like to see me more: and would to Heaven you were not!&mdash;Ha! (cry’d
+he, starting and staring wildly on her;) What said you, Madam? What said
+you, my <i>Ardelia</i>? If you like the Repetition, take it? (reply’d
+she, unmoved) <i>Would to Heaven you were never like to see me more!</i>
+Good! very Good! (cry’d he, with a Sigh that threw him trembling into a
+Chair behind him, and gave her the Opportunity of proceeding
+thus:)&mdash;Yet, <i>Antonio</i>, I must not have my Wish; I&nbsp;must
+continue with you, not out of Choice, but by Command, by the strictest
+and severest Obligation that ever bound Humanity; Don <i>Henrique</i>,
+your Friend, commands it; Don <i>Henrique</i>, the dearest Object of my
+Soul, enjoins it; Don <i>Henrique</i>, whose only Aversion I am, will
+have it so. Oh, do not wrong me, Madam! (cry’d Don <i>Henrique</i>.)
+Lead me, lead me a little more by the Light of your Discourse,
+I&nbsp;beseech you (said Don <i>Antonio</i>) that I may see your
+Meaning! for hitherto ’tis Darkness all to me. Attend therefore with
+your best Faculties (pursu’d <i>Ardelia</i>) and know, That I do most
+sincerely and most passionately
+<span class = "pagenum">338</span>
+love Don <i>Henrique</i>; and as a Proof of my Love to him, I&nbsp;have
+this Day consented to be delivered up to you by him; not for your Sake
+in the least, <i>Antonio</i>, but purely to sacrifice all the Quiet of
+my Life to his Satisfaction. And now, Sir (continued she, addressing her
+self to Don <i>Henrique</i>) now, Sir, if you can be so cruel, execute
+your own most dreadful Decree, and join our Hands, though our Hearts
+never can meet. All this to try me! It’s too much,
+<i>Ardelia</i>&mdash;(said <i>Antonio</i>:) And then turning to Don
+<i>Henrique</i>, he went on, Speak thou! if yet thou art not Apostate to
+our Friendship! Yet speak, however! Speak, though the Devil has been
+tampering with thee too! Thou art a Man, a&nbsp;Man of Honour once. And
+when I forfeit my just Title to that (interrupted Don <i>Henrique</i>)
+may I be made most miserable!&mdash;May I lose the Blessings of thy
+Friendship!&mdash;May I lose thee!&mdash;Say on then, <i>Henrique</i>!
+(cry’d <i>Antonio</i>:) And I charge thee, by all the sacred Ties of
+Friendship, say, Is this a Trial of me? Is’t Illusion, Sport, or
+shameful murderous Truth?&mdash;Oh, my Soul burns within me, and I can
+bear no longer!&mdash;Tell! Speak! Say on!&mdash;[Here, with folded
+Arms, and Eyes fixed stedfastly on <i>Henrique</i>, he stood like a
+Statue, without Motion; unless sometimes, when his swelling Heart raised
+his over-charged Breast.] After a little Pause, and a hearty Sigh or
+two, <i>Henrique</i> began;&mdash;Oh, <i>Antonio</i>! Oh my Friend!
+prepare thy self to hear yet more dreadful Accents!&mdash;I&nbsp;am
+(pursu’d&nbsp;he) unhappily the greatest and most innocent Criminal that
+e’er till now offended:&mdash;I&nbsp;love her,
+<i>Antonio</i>,&mdash;I&nbsp;love <i>Ardelia</i> with a Passion strong
+and violent as thine!&mdash;Oh! summon all that us’d to be more than Man
+about thee, to suffer to the End of my Discourse, which nothing but a
+Resolution like thine can bear! I&nbsp;know it by myself.&mdash;Tho’
+there be Wounds, Horror, and Death in each Syllable (interrupted
+<i>Antonio</i>) yet prithee now go on, but with all Haste. I&nbsp;will,
+(returned Don <i>Henrique</i>) tho’ I&nbsp;feel my own Words have the
+same cruel Effects on me.
+<span class = "pagenum">339</span>
+I say, again, my Soul loves <i>Ardelia</i>: And how can it be otherwise?
+Have we not both the self-same Appetites, the same Disgusts? How then
+could I avoid my Destiny, that has decreed that I should love and hate
+just as you do? Oh, hard Necessity! that obliged you to use me in the
+Recovery of this Lady! Alas, can you think that any Man of Sense or
+Passion could have seen, and not have lov’d her! Then how should I,
+whose Thoughts are Unisons to yours, evade those Charms that had
+prevail’d on you?&mdash;And now, to let you know, ’tis no Illusion, no
+Sport, but serious and amazing woeful Truth, <i>Ardelia</i> best can
+tell you whom she loves. What I have already said, is true, by Heaven
+(cry’d she) ’tis you, Don <i>Henrique</i>, whom I only love, and who
+alone can give me Happiness: Ah, would you would!&mdash;With you,
+<i>Antonio</i>, I must remain unhappy, wretched, cursed: Thou art my
+Hell; Don <i>Henrique</i> is my Heaven. And thou art mine,
+(returned&nbsp;he) which here I part with to my dearest Friend. Then
+taking her Hand, Pardon me, <i>Antonio</i>, (pursued&nbsp;he) that I
+thus take my last Farewel of all the Tastes of Bliss from your
+<i>Ardelia</i>, at this Moment. [At which Words he kiss’d her Hand, and
+gave it to Don <i>Antonio</i>; who received it, and gently pressed it
+close to his Heart, as if he would have her feel the Disorders she had
+caus’d there.] Be happy, <i>Antonio</i>, (cry’d <i>Henrique</i>:) Be
+very tender of her; To-morrow early I shall hope to see
+thee.&mdash;<i>Ardelia</i> (pursued&nbsp;he) All Happiness and Joy
+surround thee! May’st thou ne’er want those Blessings thou can’st give
+<i>Antonio</i>!&mdash;Farewel to both! (added he, going out.) Ah (cry’d
+she) Farewel to all Joys, Blessings, Happiness, if you forsake
+me.&mdash;Yet do not go!&mdash;Ah, cruel! (continu’d she, seeing him
+quit the Room) but you shall take my Soul with you. Here she swooned
+away in Don <i>Antonio’s</i> Arms; who, though he was happy that he had
+her fast there, yet was obliged to call in his Cousin, and
+<i>Ardelia’s</i> Attendants, e’er she could be perfectly recovered. In
+the mean while Don
+<span class = "pagenum">340</span>
+<i>Henrique</i> had not the Power to go out of Sight of the House, but
+wandred to and fro about it, distracted in his Soul; and not being able
+longer to refrain her Sight, her last Words still resounding in his
+Ears, he came again into the Room where he left her with Don
+<i>Antonio</i>, just as she revived, and called him, exclaiming on his
+Cruelty, in leaving her so soon. But when, turning her Eyes towards the
+Door, she saw him; Oh! with what eager Haste she flew to him! then
+clasped him round the Waist, obliging him, with all the tender
+Expressions that the Soul of a Lover, and a Woman’s too, is capable of
+uttering, not to leave her in the Possession of Don <i>Antonio</i>. This
+so amaz’d her slighted Lover, that he knew not, at first, how to proceed
+in this tormenting Scene; but at last, summoning all his wonted
+Resolution, and Strength of Mind, he told her, He would put her out of
+his Power, if she would consent to retreat for some few Hours to a
+Nunnery that was not above half a Mile distant from thence, till he had
+discoursed his Friend, Don <i>Henrique</i> something more particularly
+than hitherto, about this Matter: To which she readily agreed, upon the
+Promise that Don <i>Henrique</i> made her, of seeing her with the first
+Opportunity. They waited on her then to the Convent, where she was
+kindly and respectfully received by the Lady Abbess; but it was not long
+before her Grief renewing with greater Violence, and more afflicting
+Circumstances, had obliged them to stay with her till it was almost
+dark, when they once more begged the Liberty of an Hour’s Absence; and
+the better to palliate their Design, <i>Henrique</i> told her, that he
+would make use of her Father Don <i>Richardo’s</i> Coach, in which they
+came to Don <i>Antonio’s</i>, for so small a Time: which they did,
+leaving only <i>Eleonora</i> her Attendant with her, <ins class =
+"correction" title = "spelling unchanged: elsewhere ‘without’ as one word">with out</ins>
+whom she had been at a Loss, among so many fair
+Strangers; Strangers, I&nbsp;mean, to her unhappy Circumstances: Whilst
+they were carry’d near a Mile farther, where, just as ’twas dark, they
+lighted from the Coach,
+<span class = "pagenum">341</span>
+Don <i>Henrique</i>, ordering the Servants not to stir thence till their
+Return from their private Walk, which was about a Furlong, in a Field
+that belong’d to the Convent. Here Don <i>Antonio</i> told Don
+<i>Henrique</i>, That he had not acted honourably; That he had betray’d
+him, and robb’d him at once both of a Friend and Mistress. To which
+t’other returned, That he understood his Meaning, when he proposed a
+particular Discourse about this Affair, which he now perceived must end
+in Blood: But you may remind your self (continued&nbsp;he) that I have
+kept my Promise in delivering her to you. Yes, (cry’d <i>Antonio</i>)
+after you had practis’d foully and basely on her. Not at all! (returned
+<i>Henrique</i>) It was her Fate that brought this Mischief on her; for
+I urged the Shame and Scandal of Inconstancy, but all in vain, to her.
+But don’t you love her, <i>Henrique</i>? (the other ask’d.) Too well,
+and cannot live without her, though I fear I may feel the cursed Effects
+of the same Inconstancy: However, I&nbsp;had quitted her all to you, but
+you see how she resents it. And you shall see, Sir, (cry’d
+<i>Antonio</i>, drawing his Sword in a Rage) how I resent it. Here,
+without more Words, they fell to Action; to bloody Action. (Ah!&nbsp;how
+wretched are our Sex, in being the unhappy Occasion of so many fatal
+Mischiefs, even between the dearest Friends!) They fought on each Side
+with the greatest Animosity of Rivals, forgetting all the sacred Bonds
+of their former Friendship; till Don <i>Antonio</i> fell, and said,
+dying, ‘Forgive me, <i>Henrique</i>! I was to blame; I&nbsp;could not
+live without her:&mdash;I&nbsp;fear she will betray thy Life, which
+haste and preserve, for my sake&mdash;Let me not die all at
+once!&mdash;Heaven pardon both of us!&mdash;Farewel! Oh, haste! Farewel!
+(<i>returned Don <em>Henrique</em></i>) Farewel, thou bravest, truest
+Friend! Farewel thou noblest Part of me!&mdash;And Farewel all the Quiet
+of my Soul.’ Then stooping, he kissed his Cheek; but, rising, he found
+he must retire in time, or else must perish through Loss of Blood, for
+he had received two or three dangerous
+<span class = "pagenum">342</span>
+Wounds, besides others of less Consequence: Wherefore he made all the
+convenient Haste he could to the Coach, into which, by the Help of the
+Footmen, he got, and order’d ’em to drive him directly to Don
+<i>Richardo’s</i> with all imaginable Speed; where he arriv’d in little
+more than half an Hour’s Time, and was received by <i>Ardelia’s</i>
+Father with the greatest Confusion and Amazement that is expressible,
+seeing him return’d without his Daughter, and so desperately wounded.
+Before he thought it convenient to ask him any Question more than to
+enquire of his Daughter’s Safety, to which he receiv’d a short but
+satisfactory Answer, Don <i>Richardo</i> sent for an eminent and able
+Surgeon, who probed and dress’d Don <i>Henrique’s</i> Wounds, who was
+immediately put to Bed; not without some Despondency of his Recovery;
+but (thanks to his kind Stars, and kinder Constitution!) he rested
+pretty well for some Hours that Night, and early in the Morning,
+<i>Ardelia’s</i> Father, who had scarce taken any Rest all that Night,
+came to visit him, as soon as he understood from the Servants who
+watched with him, that he was in a Condition to suffer a short
+Discourse; which, you may be sure, was to learn the Circumstances of the
+past Night’s Adventure; of which Don <i>Henrique</i> gave him a perfect
+and pleasant Account, since he heard that Don <i>Antonio</i>, his mortal
+Enemy, was killed; the Assurance of whose Death was the more delightful
+to him, since, by this Relation, he found that <i>Antonio</i> was the
+Man, whom his Care of his Daughter had so often frustrated. Don
+<i>Henrique</i> had hardly made an End of his Narration, e’er a Servant
+came hastily to give <i>Richardo</i> Notice, that the Officers were come
+to search for his Son-in-Law that should have been; whom the Old
+Gentleman’s wise Precaution had secured in a Room so unsuspected, that
+they might as reasonably have imagined the entire Walls of his House had
+a Door made of Stones, as that there should have been one to that close
+Apartment: He went therefore boldly
+<span class = "pagenum">343</span>
+to the Officers, and gave them all the Keys of his House, with free
+Liberty to examine every Room and Chamber; which they did, but to no
+Purpose; and Don <i>Henrique</i> lay there undiscover’d, till his Cure
+was perfected.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time <i>Ardelia</i>, who that fatal Night but too rightly
+guess’d that the Death of one or both her Lovers was the Cause that they
+did not return to their Promise, the next Day fell into a high Fever, in
+which her Father found her soon after he had clear’d himself of those
+who come to search for a Lover. The Assurance which her Father gave her
+of <i>Henrique’s</i> Life, seemed a little to revive her; but the
+Severity of <i>Antonio’s</i> Fate was no Way obliging to her, since she
+could not but retain the Memory of his Love and Constancy; which added
+to her Afflictions, and heightned her Distemper, insomuch that
+<i>Richardo</i> was constrain’d to leave her under the Care of the good
+Lady Abbess, and to the diligent Attendance of <i>Eleonora</i>, not
+daring to hazard her Life in a Removal to his own House. All their Care
+and Diligence was however ineffectual; for she languished even to the
+least Hope of Recovery, till immediately after the first Visit of Don
+<i>Henrique</i>, which was the first he made in a Month’s Time, and that
+by Night <i>incognito</i>, with her Father, her Distemper visibly
+retreated each Day: Yet when at last she enjoy’d a perfect Health of
+Body, her Mind grew sick, and she plunged into a deep Melancholy; which
+made her entertain a positive Resolution of taking the Veil at the End
+of her Novitiate; which accordingly she did, notwith&shy;standing all
+the Intreaties, Prayers, and Tears both of her Father and Lover. But she
+soon repented her Vow, and often wish’d that she might by any Means see
+and speak to Don <i>Henrique</i>, by whose Help she promised to her self
+a Deliverance out of her voluntary Imprisonment: Nor were his Wishes
+wanting to the same Effect, tho’ he was forced to fly into <i>Italy</i>,
+to avoid the Prosecution of <i>Antonio’s</i> Friends. Thither she
+pursu’d him; nor could he any way
+<span class = "pagenum">344</span>
+shun her, unless he could have left his Heart at a Distance from his
+Body: Which made him take a fatal Resolution of returning to
+<i>Seville</i> in Disguise, where he wander’d about the Convent every
+Night like a Ghost (for indeed his Soul was within, while his inanimate
+Trunk was without) till at last he found Means to convey a Letter to
+her, which both surprized and delighted her. The Messenger that brought
+it her was one of her Mother-in-Law’s Maids, whom he had known before,
+and met accidentally one Night as he was going his Rounds, and she
+coming out from <i>Ardelia</i>; with her he prevail’d, and with Gold
+obliged her to Secrecy and Assistance: Which proved so successful, that
+he understood from <i>Ardelia</i> her strong Desire of Liberty, and the
+Continuance of her Passion for him, together with the Means and Time
+most convenient and likely to succeed for her Enlargement. The Time was
+the fourteenth Night following, at twelve o’Clock, which just compleated
+a Month since his Return thither; at which Time they both promised
+themselves the greatest Happiness on Earth. But you may observe the
+Justice of Heaven, in their Disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>Don <i>Sebastian</i>, who still pursu’d him with a most implacable
+Hatred, had traced him even to <i>Italy</i>, and there narrowly missing
+him, posted after him to <i>Toledo</i>; so sure and secret was his
+Intelligence! As soon as he arriv’d, he went directly to the Convent
+where his Sister <i>Elvira</i> had been one of the Profess’d, ever since
+Don <i>Henrique</i> had forsaken her, and where <i>Ardelia</i> had taken
+her repented Vow. <i>Elvira</i> had all along conceal’d the Occasion of
+her coming thither from <i>Ardelia</i>; and tho’ she was her only
+Confident, and knew the whole Story of her Misfortunes, and heard the
+Name of Don <i>Henrique</i> repeated a hundred Times a Day, whom still
+she lov’d most perfectly, yet never gave her beautiful Rival any Cause
+of Suspicion that she lov’d him, either by Words or Looks: Nay more,
+when she understood that Don <i>Henrique</i> came to the Convent
+<span class = "pagenum">345</span>
+with <i>Ardelia</i> and <i>Antonio</i>, and at other Times with her
+Father; yet she had so great a Command of her self, as to refrain seeing
+him, or to be seen by him; nor ever intended to have spoken or writ to
+him, had not her Brother Don <i>Sebastian</i> put her upon the cruel
+Necessity of doing the last; who coming to visit his Sister (as&nbsp;I
+have said before) found her with Dona <i>Ardelia</i>, whom he never
+remembred to have seen, nor who ever had seen him but twice, and that
+was about six Years before, when she was but ten Years of Age, when she
+fell <ins class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘passsionately’">passionately</ins>
+in Love with him, and continu’d her
+Passion till about the fourteenth Year of her Empire, when unfortunate
+<i>Antonio</i> first began his Court to her. Don <i>Sebastian</i> was
+really a very desirable Person, being at that time very beautiful, his
+Age not exceeding six and twenty, of a sweet Conversation, very brave,
+but revengeful and irreconcilable (like most of his Countrymen) and of
+an honourable Family. At the Sight of him <i>Ardelia</i> felt her former
+Passion renew; which proceeded and continued with such Violence, that it
+utterly defac’d the Ideas of <i>Antonio</i> and <i>Henrique</i>.
+(No&nbsp;Wonder that she who could resolve to forsake her God for Man,
+should quit one Lover for another.) In short, she then only wished that
+he might love her equally, and then she doubted not of contriving the
+Means of their Happiness betwixt ’em. She had her Wish, and more, if
+possible; for he lov’d her beyond the Thought of any other present or
+future Blessing, and fail’d not to let her know it, at the second
+Interview; when he receiv’d the greatest Pleasure he could have wish’d,
+next to the Joys of a Bridal Bed: For she confessed her Love to him, and
+presently put him upon thinking on the Means of her Escape; but not
+finding his Designs so likely to succeed, as those Measures she had sent
+to Don <i>Henrique</i>, she communicates the very same to Don
+<i>Sebastian</i>, and agreed with him to make use of them on that very
+Night, wherein she had obliged Don <i>Henrique</i> to attempt her
+Deliverance: The Hour indeed
+<span class = "pagenum">346</span>
+was different, being determined to be at eleven. <i>Elvira</i>, who was
+present at the Conference, took the Hint; and not being willing to
+disoblige a Brother who had so hazarded his Life in Vindication of her,
+either does not, or would not seem to oppose his Inclinations at that
+Time: However, when he retired with her to talk more particularly of his
+intended Revenge on Don <i>Henrique</i>, who he told her lay somewhere
+absconded in <i>Toledo</i>, and whom he had resolved, as he assured her,
+to sacrifice to her injur’d Honour, and his Resentments; she oppos’d
+that his vindictive Resolution with all the forcible Arguments in a
+virtuous and pious Lady’s Capacity, but in vain: so that immediately
+upon his Retreat from the Convent, she took the Opportunity of writing
+to Don <i>Henrique</i> as follows, the fatal Hour not being then seven
+Nights distant.</p>
+
+<p class = "salutation">
+Don <i>Henrique</i>,</p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword">My</span> Brother is now in Town, in Pursuit
+of your Life; nay more, of your Mistress, who has consented to make her
+Escape from the Convent, at the same Place of it, and by the same Means
+on which she had agreed to give her self entirely to you, but the Hour
+is eleven. I&nbsp;know, <em>Henrique</em>, your <em>Ardelia</em> is
+dearer to you than your Life: But your Life, your dear Life, is more
+desired than any Thing in this World,&nbsp;by</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+Your injur’d and forsaken</p>
+
+<p class = "right">
+<i>ELVIRA</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This she delivered to <i>Richardo’s</i> Servant, whom <i>Henrique</i>
+had gained that Night, as soon as she came to visit <i>Ardelia</i>, at
+her usual Hour, just as she went out of the Cloister.</p>
+
+<p>Don <i>Henrique</i> was not a little surprized with this
+<i>Billet</i>; however, he could hardly resolve to forbear his
+accustom’d Visits to <i>Ardelia</i>, at first: But upon more mature
+Consideration, he only chose to converse with her by Letters, which
+still press’d her to be mindful of her Promise, and
+<span class = "pagenum">347</span>
+of the Hour, not taking notice of any Caution that he had received of
+her Treachery. To which she still return’d in Words that might assure
+him of her Constancy.</p>
+
+<p>The dreadful Hour wanted not a Quarter of being perfect, when Don
+<i>Henrique</i> came; and having fixed his Rope-Ladder to that Part of
+the Garden-Wall, where he was expected, <i>Ardelia</i>, who had not
+stir’d from that very Place for a Quarter of an Hour before, prepar’d to
+ascend by it; which she did, as soon as his Servant had returned and
+fixed it on the inner-side of the Wall: On the Top of which, at a little
+Distance, she found another fasten’d, for her to descend on the
+out-side, whilst Don <i>Henrique</i> eagerly waited to receive her. She
+came at last, and flew into his Arms; which made <i>Henrique</i> cry out
+in a Rapture, <i>Am I at last once more happy in having my
+<em>Ardelia</em> in my Possession!</i> She, who knew his Voice, and now
+found she was betray’d, but knew not by whom, shriek’d out, <i>I&nbsp;am
+ruined! help! help!</i>&mdash;<i>Loose me, I&nbsp;charge you,
+<em>Henrique!</em> Loose me!</i> At that very Moment, and at those very
+Words, came <i>Sebastian</i>, attended by only one Servant; and hearing
+<i>Henrique</i> reply, <i>Not all the Powers of Hell shall snatch you
+from me</i>, drawing his Sword, without one Word, made a furious Pass at
+him: But his Rage and Haste misguided his Arm, for his Sword went quite
+through <i>Ardelia’s</i> Body, who only said, <i>Ah, wretched Maid!</i>
+and drop’d from <i>Henrique’s</i> Arms, who then was obliged to quit
+her, to preserve his own Life, if possible: however he had not had so
+much Time as to draw, had not <i>Sebastian</i> been amazed at this
+dreadful Mistake of his Sword; but presently recollecting himself, he
+flew with redoubled Rage to attack <i>Henrique</i>; and his Servant had
+seconded him, had not <i>Henrique’s</i>, who was now descended,
+otherwise diverted him. They fought with the greatest Animosity on both
+Sides, and with equal Advantage; for they both fell together: <i>Ah, my
+<em>Ardelia</em>, I come to thee now!</i> (<i>Sebastian</i> groan’d
+out,)&mdash;<i>’Twas this unlucky Arm, which now embraces
+<span class = "pagenum">348</span>
+thee, that killed thee. Just Heaven!</i> (she sigh’d out,)&mdash;<i>Oh,
+yet have Mercy!</i> [Here they both dy’d.] <i>Amen</i>, (cry’d
+<i>Henrique</i>, dying) <i>I&nbsp;want it most</i>&mdash; <i>Oh,
+<em>Antonio</em>! Oh, <em>Elvira</em>! Ah, there’s the Weight that sinks
+me down.</i>&mdash;<i>And yet I wish Forgiveness.</i>&mdash;<i>Once
+more, sweet Heaven, have Mercy!</i> He could not out-live that last
+Word; which was echo’d by <i>Elvira</i>, who all this while stood
+weeping, and calling out for Help, as she stood close to the Wall in the
+Garden.</p>
+
+<p>This alarmed the Rest of the Sisters, who rising, caus’d the Bell to
+be rung out, as upon dangerous Occasions it used to be; which rais’d the
+Neighbourhood, who came time enough to remove the dead Bodies of the two
+Rivals, and of the late fallen Angel <i>Ardelia</i>. The injur’d and
+neglected <i>Elvira</i>, whose Piety designed quite contrary Effects,
+was immediately seiz’d with a violent Fever; which, as it was violent,
+did not last long: for she dy’d within four and twenty Hours, with all
+the happy Symptoms of a departing Saint.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">349</span>
+<a name = "lucky" id = "lucky">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE LUCKY MISTAKE.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">351</span>
+
+<h4><a class = "comm" name = "lucky_dedic" id = "lucky_dedic" href =
+"#lucky_comm1">
+TO GEORGE GREENVIEL, ESQ;</a></h4>
+
+<p>Sir,</p>
+
+<p>At this Critical Juncture, I find the Authors will have need of a
+Protector, as well as the Nation, we having peculiar Laws and Liberties
+to be defended as well as that, but of how different a Nature, none but
+such Judges as you are fit to determine; whatever our Province be,
+I&nbsp;am sure it should be Wit, and you know what Ellevated <i>Ben</i>
+says, <i>That none can judge of Wit but Wit.</i> Let the <i>Heroes</i>
+toyl for Crowns and Kingdoms and with what pretences they please. Let
+the Slaves of State drudge on for false and empty Glories, troubling the
+repose of the World and ruining their own to gain uneasy Grandure,
+whilst you, oh! happyer Sir, great enough by your Birth, yet more
+Illustrious by your Wit, are capable of enjoying alone that true
+Felicity of Mind, which belongs to an absolutely Vertuous and Gallant
+Man, by that, and the lively Notions of Honour Imprinted in your Soul,
+you are above Ambition, and can Form <i>Kings</i> and <i>Heroes</i>,
+when ’ere your delicate Fancy shall put you upon the Poetical
+Creation.</p>
+
+<p>You can make those <i>Heroes</i> Lovers too, and inspire ’em with a
+Language so Irresistable as may instruct the Fair, how easily you may
+Conquer when it comes to your turn, to plead for a Heart, nor is your
+delicate Wit the only Charm; your Person claims an equal share of Graces
+with those of your Mind, and both together are capable of rendering you
+Victorious, whereever you shall please to Address ’em, but your Vertue
+keeps you from those Ravages of Beauty, which so wholly imploy the hours
+of the Rest of the Gay and Young, whilst you have business more sollid,
+and more noble for yours.</p>
+
+<p>I would not by this have the World imagine you are therefore exempt
+from the tenderness of Love, it rather seems you were on purpose form’d
+for that Soft Entertainment, such an Agreement there is between the
+Harmony of your Soul and your Person, and sure the <i>Muses</i> who have
+so divinely inspir’d you with Poetic Fires, have furnisht you with that
+Necessary Material (Love) to maintain it, and to make it burn with the
+more Ellevated Flame.</p>
+
+<p>’Tis therefore, Sir, I expect you will the more easily Pardon the
+Dedicating to your idler hours (if&nbsp;any such you have) this little
+Amour, all that I shall say for it, is, that ’tis not Translation but an
+Original, that has more of realty than fiction, if I have not made it
+fuller of intreague, ’twas because I had a mind to keep close to the
+Truth.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">352</span>
+<p>I must own, Sir, the Obligations I have to you, deserves a greater
+testimony of my respect, than this little piece, too trivial to bear the
+honour of your Name, but my increasing Indisposition makes me fear I
+shall not have many opportunities of this Kind, and shou’d be loath to
+leave this ungrateful World, without acknowledging my Gratitude more
+signally than barely by word of Mouth, and without wishing you all the
+happiness your merit and admirable Vertues deserve and of assuring you
+how unfeignedly I am (and how Proud of being) Sir,</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+Your most obliged and<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; </span>most humble servant<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; &nbsp; </span>A. Behn.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">353</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "lucky_main" id = "lucky_main">
+THE LUCKY MISTAKE:</a><br>
+<span class = "smallcaps">A New Novel.</span></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> River <i>Loyre</i> has on its
+delightful Banks abundance of handsome, beautiful and rich Towns and
+Villages, to which the noble Stream adds no small Graces and Advantages,
+blessing their Fields with Plenty, and their Eyes with a thousand
+Diversions. In one of these happily situated Towns, called
+<i>Orleans</i>, where abundance of People of the best Quality and
+Condition reside, there was a rich Nobleman, now retir’d from the busy
+Court, where in his Youth he had been bred, weary’d with the Toils of
+Ceremony and Noise, to enjoy that perfect Tranquillity of Life, which is
+no where to be found but in Retreat, a&nbsp;faithful Friend, and a good
+Library; and, as the admirable <i>Horace</i> says, in a little House and
+a large Garden. Count <i>Bellyaurd</i>, for so was this Nobleman call’d,
+was of this Opinion; and the rather, because he had one only Son, called
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, now grown to the Age of fifteen, who having all the
+excellent Qualities and Graces of Youth by Nature, he would bring him up
+in all Virtues and noble Sciences, which he believ’d the Gaiety and
+Lustre of the Court might divert: he therefore in his Retirement spar’d
+no Cost to those that could instruct and accomplish him; and he had the
+best Tutors and Masters that could be purchased at Court:
+<i>Bellyaurd</i> making far less Account of Riches than of fine Parts.
+He found his Son capable of all Impressions, having a Wit suitable to
+his delicate Person, so that he was the sole Joy of his Life, and the
+Darling of his Eyes.</p>
+
+<p>In the very next House, which join’d close to that of
+<i>Bellyaurd’s</i>, there lived another Count, who had in his Youth been
+banished the Court of <i>France</i> for some
+<span class = "pagenum">354</span>
+Misunderstandings in some high Affairs wherein he was concern’d: his
+Name was <i>De Pais</i>, a&nbsp;Man of great Birth, but of no Fortune;
+or at least one not suitable to the Grandeur of his Original. And as it
+is most natural for great Souls to be most proud (if&nbsp;I may call a
+handsome Disdain by that vulgar Name) when they are most depress’d; so
+<i>De Pais</i> was more retir’d, more estrang’d from his Neighbours, and
+kept a greater Distance, than if he had enjoy’d all he had lost at
+Court; and took more Solemnity and State upon him, because he would not
+be subject to the Reproaches of the World, by making himself familiar
+with it: So that he rarely visited; and, contrary to the Custom of those
+in <i>France</i>, who are easy of Access, and free of Conversation, he
+kept his Family retir’d so close, that ’twas rare to see any of them;
+and when they went abroad, which was but seldom, they wanted nothing as
+to outward Appearance, that was fit for his Quality, and what was much
+above his Condition.</p>
+
+<p>This old Count had two only Daughters, of exceeding Beauty, who gave
+the generous Father ten thousand Torments, as often as he beheld them,
+when he consider’d their extreme Beauty, their fine Wit, their
+Innocence, Modesty, and above all their Birth; and that he had not a
+Fortune to marry them according to their Quality; and below it, he had
+rather see them laid in their silent Graves, than consent to it: for he
+scorn’d the World should see him forced by his Poverty to commit an
+Action below his Dignity.</p>
+
+<p>There lived in a neighbouring Town, a certain Nobleman, Friend to
+<i>De Pais</i>, call’d Count <i>Vernole</i>, a&nbsp;Man of about forty
+years of Age, of low Stature, Complexion very black and swarthy, lean,
+lame, extreme proud and haughty; extracted of a Descent from the
+Blood-Royal; not extremely brave, but very glorious: he had no very
+great Estate, but was in Election of a greater, and of an Addition of
+Honour from the King, his Father having done most
+<span class = "pagenum">355</span>
+worthy Services against the <i>Hugonots</i>, and by the high Favour of
+Cardinal <i>Mazarine</i>, was represented to his Majesty, as a Man
+related to the Crown, of great Name, but small Estate: so that there
+were now nothing but great Expectations and Preparations in the Family
+of Count <i>Vernole</i> to go to the Court, to which he daily hoped an
+Invitation or Command.</p>
+
+<p><i>Vernole’s</i> Fortune being hitherto something a-kin to that of
+<i>De Pais</i>, there was a greater Correspondency between these two
+Gentlemen, than they had with any other Persons; they accounting
+themselves above the rest of the World, believed none so proper and fit
+for their Conversation, as that of each other: so that there was a very
+particular Intimacy between them. Whenever they went abroad, they
+clubb’d their Train, to make one great Show; and were always together,
+bemoaning each other’s Fortune, and that from so high a Descent, as one
+from Monarchs by the Mother’s side, and the other from Dukes of the
+Father’s Side, they were reduc’d by Fate to the Degree of private
+Gentlemen. They would often consult how to manage Affairs most to
+Advantage, and often <i>De Pais</i> would ask Counsel of <i>Vernole</i>,
+how best he should dispose of his Daughters, which now were about their
+ninth Year the eldest, and eighth the youngest. <i>Vernole</i> had often
+seen those two Buds of Beauty, and already saw opening in
+<i>Atlante’s</i> Face and Mind (for that was the Name of the eldest, and
+<i>Charlot</i> the youngest) a&nbsp;Glory of Wit and Beauty, which could
+not but one Day display it self, with dazling Lustre, to the wondring
+World.</p>
+
+<p><i>Vernole</i> was a great Virtuoso, of a Humour nice, delicate,
+critical and opinionative: he had nothing of the <i>French</i> Mein in
+him, but all the Gravity of the Don. His ill-favour’d Person, and his
+low Estate, put him out of Humour with the World; and because that
+should not upbraid or reproach his Follies and Defects, he was sure to
+be beforehand with that, and to be always satirick upon it; and
+<span class = "pagenum">356</span>
+lov’d to live and act contrary to the Custom and Usage of all Mankind
+besides.</p>
+
+<p>He was infinitely delighted to find a Man of his own Humour in <i>De
+Pais</i>, or at least a Man that would be persuaded to like his so well,
+to live up to it; and it was no little Joy and Satisfaction to him to
+find, that he kept his Daughters in that Severity, which was wholly
+agreeable to him, and so contrary to the Manner and Fashion of the
+<i>French</i> Quality; who allow all Freedoms, which to <i>Vernole’s</i>
+rigid Nature, seem’d as so many Steps to Vice, and in his Opinion, the
+Ruiner of all Virtue and Honour in Womankind. <i>De Pais</i> was
+extremely glad his Conduct was so well interpreted, which was no other
+in him than a proud Frugality; who, because they could not appear in so
+much Gallantry as their Quality required, kept ’em retir’d, and unseen
+to all, but his particular Friends, of whom <i>Vernole</i> was the
+chief.</p>
+
+<p><i>Vernole</i> never appear’d before <i>Atlante</i> (which was
+seldom) but he assum’d a Gravity and Respect fit to have entertain’d a
+Maid of Twenty, or rather a Matron of much greater Years and Judgment.
+His Discourses were always of Matters of State or Philosophy; and
+sometimes when <i>De Pais</i> would (laughing) say, ‘He might as well
+entertain <i>Atlante</i> with <i>Greek</i> and <i>Hebrew</i>,’ he would
+reply gravely, ‘You are mistaken, Sir, I&nbsp;<ins class = "correction"
+title = "text reads ‘finds’">find</ins> the Seeds of great and profound
+Matter in the Soul of this young Maid, which ought to be nourish’d now
+while she is young, and they will grow up to very great Perfection:
+I&nbsp;find <i>Atlante</i> capable of the noble Virtues of the Mind, and
+am infinitely mistaken in my Observations, and Art of Physiognomy, if
+<i>Atlante</i> be not born for greater Things than her Fortune does now
+Promise: She will be very considerable in the World, (believe&nbsp;me)
+and this will arrive to her perfectly from the Force of her Charms.’
+<i>De Pais</i> was extremely overjoy’d to hear such Good prophesied of
+<i>Atlante</i>, and from that Time set a sort of an Esteem upon her,
+which
+<span class = "pagenum">357</span>
+he did not on <i>Charlot</i> his younger; whom, by the Persuasions of
+<i>Vernole</i>, he resolv’d to put in a Monastery, that what he had
+might descend to <i>Atlante</i>: not but he confess’d <i>Charlot</i> had
+Beauty extremely attractive, and a Wit that promised much, when it
+should be cultivated by Years and Experience; and would shew it self
+with great Advantage and Lustre in a Monastery. All this pleased <i>De
+Pais</i> very well, who was easily persuaded, since he had not a Fortune
+to marry her well in the World.</p>
+
+<p>As yet <i>Vernole</i> had never spoke to <i>Atlante</i> of Love, nor
+did his Gravity think it Prudence to discover his Heart to so young a
+Maid; he waited her more sensible Years, when he could hope to have some
+Return. And all he expected from this her tender Age, was by his daily
+Converse with her, and the Presents he made her suitable to her Years,
+to ingratiate himself insensibly into her Friendship and Esteem, since
+she was not yet capable of Love; but even in that he mistook his Aim,
+for every day he grew more and more disagreeable to <i>Atlante</i>, and
+would have been her absolute Aversion, had she known she had every Day
+entertained a Lover; but as she grew in Years and Sense, he seemed the
+more despicable in her Eyes as to his Person; yet as she had respect to
+his Parts and Qualities, she paid him all the Complaisance she could,
+and which was due to him, and so must be confess’d. Tho’ he had a stiff
+Formality in all he said and did, yet he had Wit and Learning, and was a
+great Philosopher. As much of his Learning as <i>Atlante</i> was capable
+of attaining to, he made her Mistress of, and that was no small Portion;
+for all his Discourse was fine and easily comprehended, his Notions of
+Philosophy fit for Ladies; and he took greater Pains with
+<i>Atlante</i>, than any Master would have done with a Scholar: So that
+it was most certain, he added very great Accomplishment to her natural
+Wit: and the more, because she took a great Delight in Philosophy; which
+very often made her
+<span class = "pagenum">358</span>
+impatient of his Coming, especially when she had many Questions to ask
+him concerning it, and she would often receive him with a Pleasure in
+her Face, which he did not fail to interpret to his own Advantage, being
+very apt to flatter himself. Her Sister <i>Charlot</i> would often ask
+her, ‘How she could give whole Afternoons to so disagreeable a Man. What
+is it (said she) that charms you so? his tawny Leather-Face, his
+extraordinary high Nose, his wide Mouth and Eye-brows, that hang
+low’ring over his Eyes, his lean Carcase, and his lame and halting
+Hips?’ But <i>Atlante</i> would discreetly reply, ‘If I must grant all
+you say of Count <i>Vernole</i> to be true, yet he has a Wit and
+Learning that will atone sufficiently for all those Faults you mention:
+A&nbsp;fine Soul is infinitely to be preferr’d to a fine Body; this
+decays, but that’s eternal; and Age that ruins one, refines the other.’
+Tho’ possibly <i>Atlante</i> thought as ill of the Count as her Sister,
+yet in Respect to him, she would not own&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Atlante</i> was now arriv’d to her thirteenth Year, when her
+Beauty, which every Day increas’d, became the Discourse of the whole
+Town, which had already gain’d her as many Lovers as had beheld her; for
+none saw her without languishing for her, or at least, but what were in
+very great Admiration of her. Every body talk’d of the young
+<i>Atlante</i>, and all the Noblemen, who had Sons (knowing the
+Smallness of her Fortune, and the Lustre of her Beauty) would send them,
+for fear of their being charm’d with her Beauty, either to some other
+part of the World, or exhorted them, by way of Precaution, to keep out
+of her Sight. Old <i>Bellyaurd</i> was one of those wise Parents; and
+timely Prevention, as he thought, of <i>Rinaldo’s</i> falling in Love
+with <i>Atlante</i>, perhaps was the Occasion of his being so: He had
+before heard of <i>Atlante</i>, and of her Beauty, yet it had made no
+Impressions on his Heart; but his Father no sooner forbid him Loving,
+than he felt a new Desire tormenting him, of seeing this lovely and
+dangerous young
+<span class = "pagenum">359</span>
+Person: he wonders at his unaccountable Pain, which daily sollicits him
+within, to go where he may behold this Beauty; of whom he frames a
+thousand Ideas, all such as were most agreeable to him; but then
+upbraids his Fancy for not forming her half so delicate as she was; and
+longs yet more to see her, to know how near she approaches to the
+Picture he has drawn of her in his Mind: and tho’ he knew she liv’d the
+next House to him, yet he knew also she was kept within like a vow’d
+<i>Nun</i>, or with the Severity of a <i>Spaniard</i>. And tho’ he had a
+Chamber, which had a jutting Window, that look’d just upon the Door of
+Monsieur <i>De Pais</i>, and that he would watch many Hours at a time,
+in hope to see them go out, yet he could never get a Glimpse of her; yet
+he heard she often frequented the Church of <i>our Lady</i>. Thither
+then young <i>Rinaldo</i> resolv’d to go, and did so two or three
+Mornings; in which time, to his unspeakable Grief, he saw no Beauty
+appear that charm’d him; and yet he fancy’d that <i>Atlante</i> was
+there, and that he had seen her; that some one of those young Ladies
+that he saw in the Church was she, tho’ he had no body to enquire of,
+and that she was not so fair as the World reported; for which he would
+often sigh, as if he had lost some great Expectation. However, he ceased
+not to frequent this Church, and one day saw a young Beauty, who at
+first glimpse made his Heart leap to his Mouth, and fall a trembling
+again into its wonted Place; for it immediately told him, that that
+young Maid was <i>Atlante</i>: she was with her Sister <i>Charlot</i>,
+who was very handsome, but not comparable to <i>Atlante</i>. He fix’d
+his Eyes upon her as she kneel’d at the Altar; he never moved from that
+charming Face as long as she remain’d there; he forgot all Devotion, but
+what he paid to her; he ador’d her, he burnt and languished already for
+her, and found he must possess <i>Atlante</i> or die. Often as he gaz’d
+upon her, he saw her fair Eyes lifted up towards his, where they often
+met; which she perceiving, would cast
+<span class = "pagenum">360</span>
+hers down into her Bosom, or on her Book, and blush as if she had done a
+Fault. <i>Charlot</i> perceiv’d all the Motions of <i>Rinaldo</i>, how
+he folded his Arms, how he sigh’d and gaz’d on her Sister; she took
+notice of his Clothes, his Garniture, and every particular of his Dress,
+as young Girls use to do; and seeing him so very handsome, and so much
+better dress’d than all the young Cavaliers that were in the Church, she
+was very much pleas’d with him; and could not forbear saying, in a low
+Voice, to <i>Atlante</i>, ‘Look, look my Sister, what a pretty Monsieur
+yonder is! see how fine his Face is, how delicate his Hair, how gallant
+his Dress! and do but look how he gazes on you!’ This would make
+<i>Atlante</i> blush anew, who durst not raise her Eyes for fear she
+should encounter his. While he had the Pleasure to imagine they were
+talking of him, and he saw in the pretty Face of <i>Charlot</i>, that
+what she said was not to his Disadvantage, and by the Blushes of
+<i>Atlante</i>, that she was not displeas’d with what was spoken to her;
+he perceiv’d the young one importunate with her; and <i>Atlante</i>
+jogging her with her Elbow, as much as to say, Hold your Peace: all this
+he made a kind Interpretation of, and was transported with Joy at the
+good Omens. He was willing to flatter his new Flame, and to compliment
+his young Desire with a little Hope; but the divine Ceremony ceasing,
+<i>Atlante</i> left the Church, and it being very fair Weather, she
+walk’d home. <i>Rinaldo</i>, who saw her going, felt all the Agonies of
+a Lover, who parts with all that can make him happy; and seeing only
+<i>Atlante</i> attended with her Sister, and a Footman following with
+their Books, he was a thousand times about to speak to ’em; but he no
+sooner advanc’d a step or two towards ’em to that purpose (for he
+followed them) but his Heart fail’d, and a certain Awe and Reverence, or
+rather the Fears and Tremblings of a Lover, prevented him: but when he
+consider’d, that possibly he might never have so favourable an
+Opportunity again, he resolv’d a-new, and called up
+<span class = "pagenum">361</span>
+so much Courage to his Heart, as to speak to <i>Atlante</i>; but before
+he did so, <i>Charlot</i> looking behind her, saw <i>Rinaldo</i> very
+near to ’em, and cry’d out with a Voice of Joy, ‘Oh! Sister, Sister!
+look where the handsome <i>Monsieur</i> is, just behind us! sure he is
+some-body of Quality, for see he has two Footmen that follow him, in
+just such Liveries, and so rich as those of our Neighbour <i>Monsieur
+Bellyaurd</i>.’ At this <i>Atlante</i> could not forbear, but before she
+was aware of it, turn’d her Head, and look’d on <i>Rinaldo</i>; which
+encourag’d him to advance, and putting off his Hat, which he clapt under
+his Arm, with a low Bow, said, ‘Ladies, you are slenderly attended, and
+so many Accidents arrive to the Fair in the rude Streets, that I humbly
+implore you will permit me, whose Duty it is as a Neighbour, to wait on
+you to your Door.’ ‘Sir, (said <i>Atlante</i> blushing) we fear no
+Insolence, and need no Protector; or if we did, we should not be so rude
+to take you out of your way, to serve us.’ ‘Madam, (said&nbsp;he) my way
+lies yours. I&nbsp;live at the next Door, and am Son to
+<i>Bellyaurd</i>, your Neighbour. But, Madam, (added&nbsp;he) if I were
+to go all my Life out of the way, to do you Service, I&nbsp;should take
+it for the greatest Happiness that could arrive to me; but, Madam, sure
+a Man can never be out of his Way, who has the Honour of so charming
+Company.’ <i>Atlante</i> made no reply to this, but blush’d and bow’d:
+But <i>Charlot</i> said, ‘Nay, Sir, if you are our Neighbour, we will
+give you leave to conduct us home; but pray, Sir, how came you to know
+we are your Neighbours? for we never saw you before, to our knowledge.’
+‘My pretty Miss, (reply’d <i>Rinaldo</i>) I knew it from that
+transcendent Beauty that appear’d in your Faces, and fine Shapes; for I
+have heard, there was no Beauty in the World like that of
+<i>Atlante’s</i>; and I no sooner saw her, but my Heart told me it was
+she.’ ‘Heart! (said <i>Charlot</i> laughing) why, do Hearts use to
+speak?’ ‘The most intelligible of any thing, (<i>Rinaldo</i> reply’d)
+when ’tis tenderly touch’d, when ’tis charm’d and
+<span class = "pagenum">362</span>
+transported.’ At these Words he sigh’d, and <i>Atlante</i>, to his
+extreme Satisfaction, blush’d. ‘Touch’d, charm’d, and transported, (said
+<i>Charlot</i>) what’s that? And how do you do to have it be all these
+things? For I would give any thing in the World to have my Heart speak.’
+‘Oh! (said <i>Rinaldo</i>) your Heart is too young, it is not yet
+arrived to the Years of Speaking; about thirteen or fourteen, it may
+possibly be saying a thousand soft things to you; but it must be first
+inspir’d by some noble Object, whose Idea it must retain.’ ‘What
+(reply’d the pretty Prattler) I’ll warrant I must be in Love?’ ‘Yes,
+(said <i>Rinaldo</i>) most passionately, or you will have but little
+Conversation with your Heart.’ ‘Oh! (reply’d she) I&nbsp;am afraid the
+Pleasure of such a Conversation, will not make me amends for the Pain
+that Love will give me.’ ‘That (said <i>Rinaldo</i>) is according as the
+Object is kind, and as you hope; if he love, and you hope, you will have
+double Pleasure: And in this, how great an Advantage have fair Ladies
+above us Men! ’Tis always impossible for you to love in vain, you have
+your Choice of a thousand Hearts, which you have subdu’d, and may not
+only chuse your Slaves, but be assur’d of ’em; without speaking, you are
+belov’d, it needs not cost you a Sigh or a Tear: But unhappy Man is
+often destin’d to give his Heart, where it is not regarded, to sigh, to
+weep, and languish, without any hope of Pity.’ ‘You speak so feelingly,
+Sir, (said <i>Charlot</i>) that I am afraid this is your Case.’ ‘Yes,
+Madam, (reply’d <i>Rinaldo</i>, sighing) I&nbsp;am that unhappy Man.’
+‘Indeed it is pity (said she.) Pray, how long have you been so?’ ‘Ever
+since I heard of the charming <i>Atlante</i>, (reply’d he, sighing
+again) I&nbsp;ador’d her Character; but now I have seen her, I&nbsp;die
+for her.’ ‘For me, Sir! (said <i>Atlante</i>, who had not yet spoke)
+this is the common Compliment of all the young Men, who pretend to be
+Lovers; and if one should pity all those Sighers, we should have but
+very little left for our selves.’ ‘I&nbsp;believe (said <i>Rinaldo</i>)
+there are none that tell you so, who do not
+<span class = "pagenum">363</span>
+mean as they say: Yet among all those Adorers, and those who say they
+will die for you, you will find none will be so good as their Words but
+<i>Rinaldo</i>.’ ‘Perhaps (said <i>Atlante</i>) of all those who tell me
+of Dying, there are none that tell me of it with so little Reason as
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, if that be your Name, Sir.’ ‘Madam, it is,
+(said&nbsp;he) and who am transported with an unspeakable Joy, to hear
+those last Words from your fair Mouth: and let me, Oh lovely
+<i>Atlante!</i> assure you, that what I have said, are not Words of
+course, but proceed from a Heart that has vow’d it self eternally yours,
+even before I had the Happiness to behold this divine Person; but now
+that my Eyes have made good all my Heart before imagin’d, and did but
+hope, I&nbsp;swear, I&nbsp;will die a thousand Deaths, rather than
+violate what I have said to you; that I adore you; that my Soul and all
+my Faculties, are charm’d with your Beauty and Innocence, and that my
+Life and Fortune, not inconsiderable, shall be laid at your Feet.’ This
+he spoke with a Fervency of Passion, that left her no Doubt of what he
+had said; yet she blush’d for Shame, and was a little angry at her self,
+for suffering him to say so much to her, the very first time she saw
+him, and accused her self for giving him any Encouragement: And in this
+Confusion she replied, ‘Sir, you have said too much to be believ’d; and
+I cannot imagine so short an Acquaintance can make so considerable an
+Impression; of which Confession I accuse my self much more than you, in
+that I did not only hearken to what you said, without forbidding you to
+entertain me at that rate, but for unheedily speaking something, that
+has encourag’d this Boldness; for so I must call it, in a Man so great a
+Stranger to me.’ ‘Madam (said&nbsp;he) if I have offended by the
+Suddenness of my presumptuous Discovery, I&nbsp;beseech you to consider
+my Reasons for it, the few Opportunities I am like to have, and the
+Impossibility of waiting on you, both from the Severity of your Father
+and mine; who, ere I saw you, warn’d me
+<span class = "pagenum">364</span>
+of my Fate, as if he foresaw I should fall in love, as soon as I should
+chance to see you; and for that Reason has kept me closer to my Studies,
+than hitherto I have been. And from that time I began to feel a Flame,
+which was kindled by Report alone, and the Description my Father gave of
+your wondrous and dangerous Beauty: Therefore, Madam, I&nbsp;have not
+suddenly told you of my Passion. I&nbsp;have been long your Lover, and
+have long languish’d without telling of my Pain; and you ought to pardon
+it now, since it is done with all the Respect and religious Awe, that
+’tis possible for a Heart to deliver and unload it self in; therefore,
+Madam, if you have by chance uttered any thing, that I have taken
+Advantage or Hope from, I&nbsp;assure you ’tis so small, that you have
+no reason to repent it; but rather, if you would have me live, send me
+not from you, without a Confirmation of that little Hope. See, Madam,
+(said he, more earnestly and trembling) see we are almost arriv’d at our
+Homes, send me not to mine in a Despair that I cannot support with Life;
+but tell me, I&nbsp;shall be bless’d with your Sight, sometimes in your
+Balcony, which is very near to a jetting Window in our House, from
+whence I have sent many a longing Look towards yours, in hope to have
+seen my Soul’s Tormentor.’ ‘I&nbsp;shall be very unwilling (said she) to
+enter into an Intrigue of Love or Friendship with a Man, whose Parents
+will be averse to my Happiness, and possibly mine as refractory, tho’
+they cannot but know such an Alliance would be very considerable, my
+Fortune not being suitable to yours: I&nbsp;tell you this, that you may
+withdraw in time from an Engagement, in which I find there will be a
+great many Obstacles.’ ‘Oh! Madam, (reply’d <i>Rinaldo</i>, sighing) if
+my Person be not disagreeable to you, you will have no occasion to fear
+the rest; ’tis that I dread, and that which is all my Fear.’ He,
+sighing, beheld her with a languishing Look, that told her, he expected
+her Answer; when she reply’d, ‘Sir, if that will be Satisfaction enough
+for you at
+<span class = "pagenum">365</span>
+this time, I&nbsp;do assure you, I&nbsp;have no Aversion for your
+Person, in which I find more to be valu’d, than in any I have yet seen;
+and if what you say be real, and proceed from a Heart truly affected,
+I&nbsp;find, in spite of me, you will oblige me to give you Hope.’</p>
+
+<p>They were come so near their own Houses, that he had not time to
+return her any Answer; but with a low Bow he acknowledg’d her Bounty,
+and express’d the Joy her last Words had given him, by a Look that made
+her understand he was charm’d and pleas’d; and she bowing to him with an
+Air of Satisfaction in her Face, he was well assur’d, there was nothing
+to be seen so lovely as she then appear’d, and left her to go into her
+own House: but till she was out of sight, he had not power to stir, and
+then sighing, retired to his own Apartment, to think over all that had
+past between them. He found nothing but what gave him a thousand Joys,
+in all she had said; and he blest this happy Day, and <ins class =
+"correction" title = "spelling unchanged: usual form is ‘wonder’d’">wondred</ins>
+how his Stars came so kind, to make him in one
+hour at once see <i>Atlante</i>, and have the happiness to know from her
+Mouth, that he was not disagreeable to her: Yet with this Satisfaction,
+he had a thousand Thoughts mix’d which were tormenting, and those were
+the Fear of their Parents; he foresaw from what his Father had said to
+him already, that it would be difficult to draw him to a Consent of his
+Marriage with <i>Atlante</i>. These Joys and Fears were his Companions
+all the Night, in which he took but little Rest. Nor was <i>Atlante</i>
+without her Inquietudes: She found <i>Rinaldo</i> more in her Thoughts
+than she wish’d, and a sudden Change of Humour, that made her know
+something was the matter with her more than usual; she calls to mind
+<i>Rinaldo’s</i> speaking of the Conversation with his Heart, and found
+hers would be tattling to her, if she would give way to it; and yet the
+more she strove to avoid it, the more it importun’d her, and in spight
+of all her Resistance, would tell her, that <i>Rinaldo</i> had a
+thousand Charms: It tells her,
+<span class = "pagenum">366</span>
+that he loves and adores her, and that she would be the most cruel of
+her Sex, should she not be sensible of his Passion. She finds a thousand
+Graces in his Person and Conversation, and as many Advantages in his
+Fortune, which was one of the most considerable in all those Parts; for
+his Estate exceeded that of the most Noble Men in <i>Orleans</i>, and
+she imagines she should be the most fortunate of all Womankind in such a
+Match. With these Thoughts she employ’d all the Hours of the Night; so
+that she lay so long in Bed the next Day, that Count <i>Vernole</i>, who
+had invited himself to Dinner, came before she had quitted her Chamber,
+and she was forc’d to say, she had not been well. He had brought her a
+very fine Book, newly come out, of delicate Philosophy, fit for the
+Study of Ladies. But he appear’d so disagreeable to that Heart, wholly
+taken up with a new and fine Object, that she could now hardly pay him
+that Civility she was wont to do; while on the other side that little
+State and Pride <i>Atlante</i> assum’d, made her appear the more
+charming to him: so that if <i>Atlante</i> had no mind to begin a new
+Lesson of Philosophy, while she fancied her Thoughts were much better
+employ’d, the Count every moment expressing his Tenderness and Passion,
+had as little an Inclination to instruct her, as she had to be
+instructed: Love had taught her a new Lesson, and he would fain teach
+her a new Lesson of Love, but fears it will be a diminishing his Gravity
+and Grandeur, to open the Secrets of his Heart to so young a Maid; he
+therefore thinks it more agreeable to his Quality and Years, being about
+Forty, to use her Father’s Authority in this Affair, and that it was
+sufficient for him to declare himself to Monsieur <i>De Pais</i>, who he
+knew would be proud of the Honour he did him. Some time past, before he
+could be persuaded even to declare himself to her Father: he fancies the
+little Coldness and Pride he saw in <i>Atlante’s</i> Face, which was not
+usual, proceeded from some Discovery of Passion, which his Eyes had
+made, or now and then a
+<span class = "pagenum">367</span>
+Sigh, that unawares broke forth; and accuses himself of a Levity below
+his Quality, and the Dignity of his Wit and Gravity; and therefore
+assumes a more rigid and formal Behaviour than he was wont, which
+rendred him yet more disagreeable than before; and ’twas with greater
+Pain than ever, she gave him that Respect which was due to his
+Quality.</p>
+
+<p><i>Rinaldo</i>, after a restless Night, was up very early in the
+Morning; and tho’ he was not certain of seeing his adorable
+<i>Atlante</i>, he dress’d himself with all that Care, as if he had been
+to have waited on her, and got himself into the Window, that overlook’d
+Monsieur <i>De Pais’s</i> Balcony, where he had not remain’d long,
+before he saw the pretty <i>Charlot</i> come into it, not with any
+design of seeing <i>Rinaldo</i>, but to look and gaze about her a
+little. <i>Rinaldo</i> saw her, and made her a very low Reverence, and
+found some disorder’d Joy on the sight of even <i>Charlot</i>, since she
+was Sister to <i>Atlante</i>. He call’d to her, (for the Window was so
+near her, he could easily be heard by her) and told her, ‘He was
+infinitely indebted to her Bounty, for giving him an Opportunity
+yesterday of falling on that Discourse, which had made him the happiest
+Man in the World’: He said, ‘If she had not by her agreeable
+Conversation encourag’d him, and drawn him from one Word to another, he
+should never have had the Confidence to have told <i>Atlante</i>, how
+much he ador’d her.’ ‘I&nbsp;am very glad, (replyed <i>Charlot</i>) that
+I was the Occasion of the Beginning of an Amour, which was displeasing
+to neither one nor the other; for I assure you for your Comfort, my
+Sister nothing but thinks on you: We lie together, and you have taught
+her already to sigh so, that I could not sleep for her.’ At this his
+Face was cover’d over with a rising Joy, which his Heart could not
+contain: And after some Discourse, in which this innocent Girl
+discovered more than <i>Atlante</i> wish’d she should, he besought her
+to become his Advocate; and since she had no Brother, to
+<span class = "pagenum">368</span>
+give him leave to assume that Honour, and call her Sister. Thus, by
+degrees, he flatter’d her into a Consent of carrying a Letter from him
+to <i>Atlante</i>; which she, who believ’d all as innocent as her self,
+and being not forbid to do so, immediately consented to; when he took
+his Pen and Ink, that stood in the Window, with Paper, and wrote
+<i>Atlante</i> this following Letter:</p>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<i>RINALDO</i> to <i>ATLANTE</i>.</p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword">If</span> my Fate be so severe, as to deny me
+the Happiness of sighing out my Pain and Passion daily at your Feet, if
+there be any Faith in the Hope you were pleased to give me
+(as&nbsp;’twere a Sin to doubt) Oh charming <em>Atlante</em>! suffer me
+not to languish, both without beholding you, and without the Blessing of
+now and then a Billet, in answer to those that shall daily assure you of
+my eternal Faith and Vows; ’tis all I ask, till Fortune, and our
+Affairs, shall allow me the unspeakable Satisfaction of claiming you:
+yet if your Charity can sometimes afford me a sight of you, either from
+your Balcony in the Evening, or at a Church in the Morning, it would
+save me from that Despair and Torment, which must possess a Heart so
+unassur’d, as that&nbsp;of</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+Your Eternal Adorer,<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; </span>&emsp;<i>Rin. Bellyaurd</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He having writ and seal’d this, toss’d it into the Balcony to
+<i>Charlot</i>, having first look’d about to see if none perceiv’d them.
+She put it in her Bosom, and ran in to her Sister, whom by chance she
+found alone; <i>Vernole</i> having taken <i>De Pais</i> into the Garden,
+to discourse him concerning the sending <i>Charlot</i> to the Monastery,
+which Work he desir’d to see perform’d, before he declar’d his
+Intentions to <i>Atlante</i>: for among all his other good Qualities, he
+was very avaricious; and as fair as <i>Atlante</i> was, he thought she
+would be much fairer with the Addition of <i>Charlot’s</i> Portion. This
+Affair of his with Monsieur <i>De Pais</i>, gave <i>Charlot</i>
+<span class = "pagenum">369</span>
+an opportunity of delivering her Letter to her Sister; who no sooner
+drew it from her Bosom, but <i>Atlante’s</i> Face was covered over with
+Blushes: For she imagin’d from whence it came, and had a secret Joy in
+that Imagination, tho’ she thought she must put on the Severity and
+Niceness of a Virgin, who would not be thought to have surrendered her
+Heart with so small an Assault, and the first too. So she demanded from
+whence <i>Charlot</i> had that Letter? Who replyed with Joy, ‘From the
+fine young Gentleman, our Neighbour.’ At which <i>Atlante</i> assum’d
+all the Gravity she could, to chide her Sister; who replied, ‘Well,
+Sister, had you this day seen him, you would not have been angry to have
+receiv’d a Letter from him; he look’d so handsome, and was so richly
+dress’d, ten times finer than he was yesterday; and I promis’d him you
+should read it: therefore, pray let me keep my Word with him; and not
+only so, but carry him an Answer.’ ‘Well (said <i>Atlante</i>) to save
+your Credit with Monsieur <i>Rinaldo</i>, I will read it’: Which she
+did, and finish’d with a Sigh. While she was reading, <i>Charlot</i> ran
+into the Garden, to see if they were not likely to be surpriz’d; and
+finding the Count and her Father set in an Arbour, in deep Discourse,
+she brought Pen, Ink, and Paper to her Sister, and told her, she might
+write without the Fear of being disturbed: and urged her so long to what
+was enough her Inclination, that she at last obtained this Answer:</p>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<i>ATLANTE</i> to <i>RINALDO</i>.</p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword"><em>Charlot</em></span>, your little
+importunate Advocate, has at last subdued me to a Consent of returning
+you This. She has put me on an Affair with which I am wholly
+unacquainted; and you ought to take this very kindly from me, since it
+is the very first time I ever writ to one of your Sex, tho’ perhaps I
+might with less Danger have done it to any other Man. I&nbsp;tremble
+while I write, since I dread a Correspondence of this Nature, which may
+insensibly draw us into an Inconvenience, and engage
+<span class = "pagenum">370</span>
+me beyond the Limits of that Nicety I ought to preserve: For this Way we
+venture to say a thousand little kind Things, which in Conversation we
+dare not do: for now none can see us blush. I&nbsp;am sensible I shall
+this Way put my self too soon into your Power; and tho’ you have
+abundance of Merit, I&nbsp;ought to be asham’d of confessing, I&nbsp;am
+but too sensible of it:&mdash;But hold&mdash;I&nbsp;shall discover for
+your Repose (which I would preserve) too much of the Heart&nbsp;of</p>
+
+<p class = "right">Atlante.</p>
+
+<p>She gave this Letter to <i>Charlot</i>; who immediately ran into the
+Balcony with it, where she still found <i>Rinaldo</i> in a melancholy
+Posture, leaning his Head on his Hand: She shewed him the Letter, but
+was afraid to toss it to him, for fear it might fall to the Ground; so
+he ran and fetched a long Cane, which he cleft at one End, and held it
+while she put the Letter into the Cleft, and staid not to hear what he
+said to it. But never was Man so transported with Joy, as he was at the
+reading of this Letter; it gives him new Wounds; for to the Generous,
+nothing obliges Love so much as Love: tho’ it is now too much the Nature
+of that inconstant Sex, to cease to love as soon as they are sure of the
+Conquest. But it was far different with our Cavalier; he was the more
+inflamed, by imagining he had made some Impressions on the Heart of
+<i>Atlante</i>, and kindled some Sparks there, that in time might
+increase to something more; so that he now resolves to die hers: and
+considering all the Obstacles that may possibly hinder his Happiness, he
+found none but his Father’s Obstinacy, perhaps occasioned by the
+Meanness of <i>Atlante’s</i> Fortune. To this he urged again, that he
+was his only Son, and a Son whom he loved equal to his own Life; and
+that certainly, as soon as he should behold him dying for
+<i>Atlante</i>, which if he were forc’d to quit her he must be, he then
+believed the Tenderness of so fond a Parent would break forth into Pity,
+and plead within for his Consent. These were the Thoughts that flatter’d
+this young Lover all
+<span class = "pagenum">371</span>
+the Day; and whether he were riding the Great Horse, or at his Study of
+Philosophy, or Mathematicks, Singing, Dancing, or whatsoever other
+Exercise his Tutors ordered, his Thoughts were continually on
+<i>Atlante</i>. And now he profited no more, whatever he seem’d to do:
+every Day he fail’d not to write to her by the Hand of the kind
+<i>Charlot</i>; who, young as she was, had conceiv’d a great Friendship
+for <i>Rinaldo</i>, and fail’d not to fetch her Letters, and bring him
+Answers, such as he wish’d to receive. But all this did not satisfy our
+impatient Lover; Absence kill’d, and he was no longer able to support
+himself, without a sight of this adorable Maid; he therefore implores,
+she will give him that Satisfaction: And she at last grants it, with a
+better Will than he imagin’d. The next Day was the appointed Time, when
+she would, under Pretence of going to Church, give him an Assignation:
+And because all publick Places were dangerous, and might make a great
+Noise, and they had no private Place to trust to, <i>Rinaldo</i>, under
+Pretence of going up the River in his Pleasure-Boat, which he often did,
+sent to have it made ready by the next Day at Ten of the Clock. This was
+accordingly done, and he gave <i>Atlante</i> Notice of his Design of
+going an Hour or two on the River in his Boat, which lay near to such a
+Place, not far from the Church. She and <i>Charlot</i> came thither: and
+because they durst not come out without a Footman or two, they taking
+one, sent him with a <i>How-do-ye</i> to some young Ladies, and told
+him, he should find them at Church: So getting rid of their Spy, they
+hastened to the River-side, and found a Boat and <i>Rinaldo</i>, waiting
+to carry them on board his little Vessel, which was richly adorn’d, and
+a very handsome Collation ready for them, of cold Meats, Sallads and
+Sweetmeats.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as they were come into the Pleasure-Boat, unseen of any, he
+kneel’d at the Feet of <i>Atlante</i>, and there utter’d so many
+passionate and tender Things to her, with a Voice so trembling and soft,
+with Eyes so languishing,
+<span class = "pagenum">372</span>
+and a Fervency and a Fire so sincere, that her young Heart, wholly
+uncapable of Artifice, could no longer resist such Language, and such
+Looks of Love; she grows tender, and he perceives it in her fine Eyes,
+who could not dissemble; he reads her Heart in her Looks, and found it
+yielding apace; and therefore assaults it anew, with fresh Forces of
+Sighs and Tears: He implores she would assure him of her Heart, which
+she could no other way do, than by yielding to marry him: He would carry
+her to the next Village, there consummate that Happiness, without which
+he was able to live no longer; for he had a thousand Fears, that some
+other Lover was, or would suddenly be provided for her; and therefore he
+would make sure of her while he had this Opportunity: and to that End,
+he answer’d all the Objections she could make to the contrary. But ever,
+when he named Marriage, she trembled, with fear of doing something that
+she fancy’d she ought not to do without the Consent of her Father. She
+was sensible of the Advantage, but had been so us’d to a strict
+Obedience, that she could not without Horror think of violating it; and
+therefore besought him, as he valued her Repose, not to urge her to
+that: And told him further, That if he fear’d any Rival, she would give
+him what other Assurance and Satisfaction he pleas’d, but that of
+Marriage; which she could not consent to, till she knew such an Alliance
+would not be fatal to him: for she fear’d, as passionately as he lov’d
+her, when he should find she had occasion’d him the Loss of his Fortune,
+or his Father’s Affection, he would grow to hate her. Tho’ he answer’d
+to this all that a fond Lover could urge, yet she was resolv’d, and he
+forc’d to content himself with obliging her by his Prayers and
+Protestations, his Sighs and Tears, to a Contract, which they solemnly
+made each other, vowing on either Side, they would never marry any
+other. This being solemnly concluded, he assum’d a Look more gay and
+contented than before: He presented her a very rich Ring,
+<span class = "pagenum">373</span>
+which she durst not put on her Finger, but hid it in her Bosom. And
+beholding each other now as Man and Wife, she suffer’d him all the
+decent Freedoms he could wish to take; so that the Hours of this Voyage
+seem’d the most soft and charming of his Life: and doubtless they were
+so; every Touch of <i>Atlante</i> transported him, every Look pierced
+his Soul, and he was all Raptures of Joy, when he consider’d this
+charming lovely Maid was his own.</p>
+
+<p><i>Charlot</i> all this while was gazing above-deck, admiring the
+Motion of the little Vessel, and how easily the Wind and Tide bore her
+up the River. She had never been in any thing of this kind before, and
+was very well pleas’d and entertain’d, when <i>Rinaldo</i> call’d her
+down to eat; where they enjoy’d themselves, as well as was possible: and
+<i>Charlot</i> was wondring to see such a Content in their Eyes.</p>
+
+<p>But now they thought it was high time for them to return; they fancy
+the Footman missing them at Church, would go home and alarm their
+Father, and the Knight of the Ill-favour’d Countenance, as
+<i>Charlot</i> call’d Count <i>Vernole</i>, whose Severity put their
+Father on a greater Restriction of them, than naturally he would do of
+himself. At the Name of this Count, <i>Rinaldo</i> chang’d Colour,
+fearing he might be some Rival; and ask’d <i>Atlante</i>, if this
+<i>Vernole</i> was a-kin to her? She answer’d no; but was a very great
+Friend to her Father, and one who from their Infancy had had a
+particular Concern for their Breeding, and was her Master for
+Philosophy. ‘Ah! (reply’d <i>Rinaldo</i>, sighing) this Man’s Concern
+must proceed from something more than Friendship for her Father’; and
+therefore conjur’d her to tell him, whether he was not a Lover:
+‘A&nbsp;Lover! (reply’d <i>Atlante</i>) I assure you, he is a perfect
+Antidote against that Passion’: And tho’ she suffer’d his ugly Presence
+now, she should loathe and hate him, should he but name Love to her.</p>
+
+<p>She said, she believed she need not fear any such Persecution, since
+he was a Man who was not at all amorous;
+<span class = "pagenum">374</span>
+that he had too much of the Satire in his Humour, to harbour any
+Softness there: and Nature had form’d his Body to his Mind, wholly unfit
+for Love. And that he might set his Heart absolutely at rest, she <ins
+class = "correction" title = "text reads ‘asur’d’">assur’d</ins> him her
+Father had never yet propos’d any Marriage to her, tho’ many
+advantageous ones were offer’d him every Day.</p>
+
+<p>The Sails being turned to carry them back from whence they came;
+after having discoursed of a thousand Things, and all of Love, and
+Contrivance to carry on their mutual Design, they with Sighs parted;
+<i>Rinaldo</i> staying behind in the Pleasure-Boat, and they going
+a-shore in the Wherry that attended: after which he cast many an amorous
+and sad Look, and perhaps was answer’d by those of <i>Atlante</i>.</p>
+
+<p>It was past Church-time two or three Hours, when they arrived at
+home, wholly unprepar’d with an Excuse, so absolutely was
+<i>Atlante’s</i> Soul possest with softer Business. The first Person
+that they met was the Footman, who open’d the Door, and began to cry out
+how long he had waited in the Church, and how in vain; without giving
+them time to reply. <i>De Pais</i> came towards ’em, and with a frowning
+Look demanded where they had been? <i>Atlante</i>, who was not
+accustom’d to Excuses and Untruth, was a while at a stand; when
+<i>Charlot</i> with a Voice of Joy cry’d out, ‘Oh Sir! we have been
+a-board of a fine little Ship’: At this <i>Atlante</i> blush’d, fearing
+she would tell the Truth. But she proceeded on, and said, that they had
+not been above a Quarter of an Hour at Church, when the Lady <span class
+= "dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span>, with some other Ladies and Cavaliers,
+were going out of the Church, and that spying them, they would needs
+have ’em go with ’em: My Sister, Sir, continu’d she, was very loth to
+go, for fear you should be angry; but my Lady <span class =
+"dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span> was so importunate with her on one side,
+and I on the other, because I never saw a little Ship in my Life, that
+at last we prevail’d with her: therefore, good Sir, be not angry. He
+promised them he was not. And when they came in, they found Count
+<i>Vernole</i>, who had been inspiring <i>De Pais</i>
+<span class = "pagenum">375</span>
+with Severity, and counselled him to chide the young Ladies, for being
+too long absent, under Pretence of going to their Devotion. Nor was it
+enough for him to set the Father on, but himself with a Gravity, where
+Concern and Malice were both apparent, reproached <i>Atlante</i> with
+Levity; and told her, He believed she had some other Motive than the
+Invitation of a Lady, to go on Ship-board; and that she had too many
+Lovers, not to make them doubt that this was a design’d thing; and that
+she had heard Love from some one, for whom it was design’d. To this she
+made but a short Reply, That if it was so, she had no reason to conceal
+it, since she had Sense enough to look after herself; and if any body
+had made love to her, he might be assur’d, it was some one whose Quality
+and Merit deserved to be heard: and with a Look of Scorn, she passed on
+to another Room, and left him silently raging within with Jealousy:
+Which, if before she tormented him, this Declaration increas’d it to a
+pitch not to be conceal’d. And this Day he said so much to the Father,
+that he resolv’d forthwith to send <i>Charlot</i> to a Nunnery: and
+accordingly the next day he bid her prepare to go. <i>Charlot</i>, who
+was not yet arrived to the Years of Distinction, did not much regret it;
+and having no Trouble but leaving her Sister, she prepared to go to a
+Nunnery, not many Streets from that where she dwelt. The Lady Abbess was
+her Father’s Kinswoman, and had treated her very well, as often as she
+came to visit her: so that with Satisfaction enough, she was condemned
+to a Monastick Life, and was now going for her Probation-Year.
+<i>Atlante</i> was troubled at her Departure, because she had no body to
+bring and to carry Letters between <i>Rinaldo</i> and she: however, she
+took her leave of her, and promis’d to come and see her as often as she
+should be permitted to go abroad; for she fear’d now some Constraint
+extraordinary would be put upon her: and so it happened.</p>
+
+<p><i>Atlante’s</i> Chamber was that to which the Balcony
+<span class = "pagenum">376</span>
+belong’d; and tho’ she durst not appear there in the Daytime, she could
+in the Night, and that way give her Lover as many Hours of Conversation
+as she pleased, without being perceiv’d: But how to give <i>Rinaldo</i>
+notice of this, she could not tell; who not knowing <i>Charlot</i> was
+gone to a Monastery, waited many days at his Window to see her: at last,
+they neither of them knowing who to trust with any Message, one day,
+when he was, as usual upon his watch, he saw <i>Atlante</i> step into
+the Balcony, who having a Letter, in which she had put a piece of Lead,
+she tost it into his Window, whose Casement was open, and run in again
+unperceived by any but himself. The Paper contained only this:</p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+My Chamber is that which looks into the Balcony; from whence, tho’
+I&nbsp;cannot converse with you in the Day, I&nbsp;can at Night, when I
+am retired to go to bed: therefore be at your Window.
+&emsp;&emsp;<em>Farewel</em>.</p>
+
+<p>There needed no more to make him a diligent Watcher: and accordingly
+she was no sooner retired to her Chamber, but she would come into the
+Balcony, where she fail’d not to see him attending at his Window. This
+happy Contrivance was thus carry’d on for many Nights, where they
+entertain’d one another with all the Endearment that two Hearts could
+dictate, who were perfectly united and assur’d of each other; and this
+pleasing Conversation would often last till Day appear’d, and forced
+them to part.</p>
+
+<p>But old <i>Bellyaurd</i> perceiving his Son frequent that Chamber
+more than usual, fancy’d something extraordinary must be the Cause of
+it; and one night asking for his Son, his Valet told him, he was gone
+into the great Chamber, so this was called: <i>Bellyaurd</i> asked the
+Valet what he did there; he told him he could not tell; for often he had
+lighted him thither, and that his Master would take the Candle from him
+at the Chamber-Door, and suffer him to go no farther. Tho’ the old
+Gentleman could not imagine
+<span class = "pagenum">377</span>
+what Affairs he could have alone every Night in that Chamber, he had a
+Curiosity to see: and one unlucky Night, putting off his Shoes, he came
+to the Door of the Chamber, which was open; he enter’d softly, and saw
+the Candle set in the Chimney, and his Son at a great open Bay-Window:
+he stopt awhile to wait when he would turn, but finding him unmoveable,
+he advanced something farther, and at last heard the soft Dialogue of
+Love between him and <i>Atlante</i>, whom he knew to be she, by his
+often calling her by her Name in their Discourse. He heard enough to
+confirm him how Matters went; and unseen as he came, he returned, full
+of Indignation, and thought how to prevent so great an Evil, as this
+Passion of his Son might produce: at first he thought to round him
+severely in the Ear about it, and upbraid him for doing the only thing
+he had thought fit to forbid him; but then he thought that would but
+terrify him for awhile, and he would return again, where he had so great
+an Inclination, if he were near her; he therefore resolves to send him
+to <i>Paris</i>, that by Absence he might forget the young Beauty that
+had charm’d his Youth. Therefore, without letting <i>Rinaldo</i> know
+the Reason, and without taking Notice that he knew any thing of his
+Amour, he came to him one day, and told him, all the Masters he had for
+the improving him in noble Sciences were very dull, or very remiss: and
+that he resolved he should go for a Year or two to the Academy at
+<i>Paris</i>. To this the Son made a thousand Evasions; but the Father
+was positive, and not to be persuaded by all his Reasons: And finding he
+should absolutely displease him if he refus’d to go, and not daring to
+tell him the dear Cause of his Desire to remain at <i>Orleans</i>, he
+therefore, with a breaking Heart, consents to go, nay, resolves it, tho’
+it should be his Death. But alas! he considers that this Parting will
+not only prove the greatest Torment upon Earth to him, but that
+<i>Atlante</i> will share in his Misfortunes also: This Thought gives
+<span class = "pagenum">378</span>
+him a double Torment, and yet he finds no Way to evade&nbsp;it.</p>
+
+<p>The Night that finished this fatal Day, he goes again to his wonted
+Station, the Window; where he had not sighed very long, but he saw
+<i>Atlante</i> enter the Balcony: He was not able a great while to speak
+to her, or to utter one Word. The Night was light enough to see him at
+the wonted Place; and she admires at his Silence, and demands the Reason
+in such obliging Terms as adds to his Grief; and he, with a deep Sigh,
+reply’d, ‘Urge me not, my fair <i>Atlante</i>, to speak, lest by obeying
+you I give you more cause of Grief than my Silence is capable of doing’:
+and then sighing again, he held his peace, and gave her leave to ask the
+Cause of these last Words. But when he made no Reply but by sighing, she
+imagin’d it much worse than indeed it was; and with a trembling and
+fainting Voice, she cried, ‘Oh! <i>Rinaldo</i>, give me leave to divine
+that cruel News you are so unwilling to tell me: It is so,’ added she,
+‘you are destin’d to some more fortunate Maid than <i>Atlante</i>.’ At
+this Tears stopped her Speech, and she could utter no more. ‘No, my
+dearest Charmer (reply’d <i>Rinaldo</i>, elevating his Voice) if that
+were all, you should see with what Fortitude I would die, rather than
+obey any such Commands. I&nbsp;am vow’d yours to the last Moment of my
+Life; and will be yours in spite of all the Opposition in the World:
+that Cruelty I could evade, but cannot this that threatens me.’ ‘Ah!
+(cried <i>Atlante</i>) let Fate do her worst, so she still continue
+<i>Rinaldo</i> mine, and keep that Faith he hath sworn to me entire:
+What can she do beside, that can afflict me?’ ‘She can separate me
+(cried&nbsp;he) for some time from <i>Atlante</i>.’ ‘Oh! (reply’d she)
+all Misfortunes fall so below that which I first imagin’d, that methinks
+I do not resent this, as I should otherwise have done: but I know, when
+I have a little more consider’d it, I&nbsp;shall even die with the Grief
+of it; Absence being so great an Enemy to Love, and making us soon
+<span class = "pagenum">379</span>
+forget the Object belov’d: This, tho’ I&nbsp;never experienc’d,
+I&nbsp;have heard, and fear it may be my Fate.’ He then convinc’d her
+Fears with a thousand new Vows, and a thousand Imprecations of
+Constancy. She then asked him, ‘If their Loves were discover’d, that he
+was with such haste to depart?’ He told her, ‘Nothing of that was the
+Cause; and he could almost wish it were discover’d, since he could
+resolutely then refuse to go: but it was only to cultivate his Mind more
+effectually than he could do here; ’twas the Care of his Father to
+accomplish him the more; and therefore he could not contradict it. But
+(said&nbsp;he) I&nbsp;am not sent where Seas shall part us, nor vast
+Distances of Earth, but to <i>Paris</i>, from whence he might come in
+two Days to see her again; and that he would expect from that Balcony,
+that had given him so many happy Moments, many more when he should come
+to see her.’ He besought her to send him away with all the Satisfaction
+she could, which she could no otherwise do, than by giving him new
+Assurances that she would never give away that Right he had in her to
+any other Lover: She vows this with innumerable Tears; and is almost
+angry with him for questioning her Faith. He tells her he has but one
+Night more to stay, and his Grief would be unspeakable, if he should not
+be able to take a better leave of her, than at a Window; and that, if
+she would give him leave, he would by a Rope or two, tied together, so
+as it may serve for Steps, ascend her Balcony; he not having time to
+provide a Ladder of Ropes. She tells him she has so great a Confidence
+in his Virtue and Love, that she will refuse him nothing, tho’ it would
+be a very bold Venture for a Maid, to trust her self with a passionate
+young Man, in silence of Night: and tho’ she did not extort a Vow from
+him to secure her, she expected he would have a care of her Honour. He
+swore to her, his Love was too religious for so base an Attempt. There
+needed not many Vows to confirm her Faith; and it was agreed on between
+<span class = "pagenum">380</span>
+them, that he should come the next Night into her Chamber.</p>
+
+<p>It happen’d that Night, as it often did, that Count <i>Vernole</i>
+lay with Monsieur <i>De Pais</i>, which was in a Ground-Room, just under
+that of <i>Atlante’s</i>. As soon as she knew all were in bed, she gave
+the word to <i>Rinaldo</i>, who was attending with the Impatience of a
+passionate Lover below, under the Window; and who no sooner heard the
+Balcony open, but he ascended with some difficulty, and enter’d the
+Chamber, where he found <i>Atlante</i> trembling with Joy and Fear: He
+throws himself at her Feet, as unable to speak as she; who nothing but
+blushed and bent down her Eyes, hardly daring to glance them towards the
+dear Object of her Desires, the Lord of all her Vows: She was asham’d to
+see a Man in her Chamber, where yet none had ever been alone, and by
+Night too. He saw her Fear, and felt her trembling; and after a thousand
+Sighs of Love had made way for Speech, he besought her to fear nothing
+from him, for his Flame was too sacred, and his Passion too holy to
+offer any thing but what Honour with Love might afford him. At last he
+brought her to some Courage, and the Roses of her fair Cheeks assum’d
+their wonted Colour, not blushing too red, nor languishing too pale. But
+when the Conversation began between them, it was the softest in the
+world: They said all that parting Lovers could say; all that Wit and
+Tenderness could express: They exchanged their Vows anew; and to confirm
+his, he tied a Bracelet of Diamonds about her Arm, and she returned him
+one of her Hair, which he had long begged, and she had on purpose made,
+which clasped together with Diamonds; this she put about his Arm, and he
+swore to carry it to his Grave. The Night was far spent in tender Vows,
+soft Sighs and Tears on both sides, and it was high time to part: but,
+as if Death had been to have arrived to them in that Minute, they both
+linger’d away the time, like
+<span class = "pagenum">381</span>
+Lovers who had forgot themselves; and the Day was near approaching when
+he bid farewel, which he repeated very often: for still he was
+interrupted by some commanding Softness from <i>Atlante</i>, and then
+lost all his Power of going; till she, more courageous and careful of
+his Interest and her own Fame, forc’d him from her: and it was happy she
+did, for he was no sooner got over the Balcony, and she had flung him
+down his Rope, and shut the Door, but <i>Vernole</i>, whom Love and
+Contrivance kept waking, fancy’d several times he heard a Noise in
+<i>Atlante’s</i> Chamber. And whether in passing over the Balcony,
+<i>Rinaldo</i> made any Noise or not, or whether it were still his
+jealous Fancy, he came up in his Night-Gown, with a Pistol in his Hand.
+<i>Atlante</i> was not so much lost in Grief, tho’ she were all in
+Tears, but she heard a Man come up, and imagin’d it had been her Father,
+she not knowing of Count <i>Vernole’s</i> lying in the House that Night;
+if she had, she possibly had taken more care to have been silent; but
+whoever it was, she could not get to bed soon enough, and therefore
+turn’d her self to her Dressing-Table, where a Candle stood, and where
+lay a Book open of the Story of <i>Ariadne</i> and <i>Theseus</i>. The
+Count turning the Latch, enter’d halting into her Chamber in his
+Night-Gown clapped close about him, which betray’d an ill-favour’d
+Shape, his Night-Cap on, without a Perriwig, which discover’d all his
+lean wither’d Jaws, his pale Face, and his Eyes staring: and made
+altogether so dreadful a Figure, that <i>Atlante</i>, who no more dreamt
+of him than of a Devil, had possibly have rather seen the last. She gave
+a great Shriek, which frighted <i>Vernole</i>; so both stood for a while
+staring on each other, till both were recollected: He told her the Care
+of her Honour had brought him thither; and then rolling his small Eyes
+round the Chamber, to see if he could discover any body, he proceeded,
+and cry’d, ‘Madam, if I had no other Motive than your being up at this
+time of Night, or rather of Day, I&nbsp;could easily guess how you have
+been
+<span class = "pagenum">382</span>
+entertain’d.’ ‘What Insolence is this (said she, all in a rage) when to
+cover your Boldness of approaching my Chamber at this Hour, you would
+question how I have been entertain’d! Either explain your self, or quit
+my Chamber; for I do not use to see such terrible Objects here.’
+‘Possibly those you do see (said the Count) are indeed more agreeable,
+but I am afraid have not that Regard to your Honour as I have’: And at
+that word he stepped to the Balcony, open’d it, and look’d out; but
+seeing no body, he shut it to again. This enraged <i>Atlante</i> beyond
+all Patience; and snatching the Pistol out of his Hand, she told him, He
+deserved to have it aimed at his Head, for having the Impudence to
+question her Honour, or her Conduct; and commanded him to avoid her
+Chamber as he lov’d his Life, which she believ’d he was fonder of than
+of her Honour. She speaking this in a Tone wholly transported with Rage,
+and at the same time holding the Pistol towards him, made him tremble
+with Fear; and he now found, whether she were guilty or not, it was his
+turn to beg Pardon: For you must know, however it came to pass that his
+Jealousy made him come up in that fierce Posture, at other times
+<i>Vernole</i> was the most tame and passive Man in the World, and one
+who was afraid of his own Shadow in the Night: He had a natural Aversion
+for Danger, and thought it below a Man of Wit, or common Sense, to be
+guilty of that brutal thing, called Courage or Fighting; His Philosophy
+told him, <i>It was safe sleeping in a whole Skin</i>; and possibly he
+apprehended as much Danger from this <i>Virago</i>, as ever he did from
+his own Sex. He therefore fell on his Knees, and besought her to hold
+her fair Hand, and not to suffer that, which was the greatest Mark of
+his Respect, to be the Cause of her Hate or Indignation. The pitiful
+Faces he made, and the Signs of Mortal Fear in him, had almost made her
+laugh, at least it allay’d her Anger; and she bid him rise and play the
+fool hereafter somewhere else, and not in her
+<span class = "pagenum">383</span>
+Presence; yet for once she would deign to give him this Satisfaction,
+that she was got into a Book, which had many moving Stories very well
+writ; and that she found her self so well entertain’d, she had forgot
+how the Night passed. He most humbly thanked her for this Satisfaction,
+and retired, perhaps not so well satisfied as he pretended.</p>
+
+<p>After this, he appear’d more submissive and respectful towards
+<i>Atlante</i>; and she carry’d herself more reserv’d and haughty
+towards him; which was one Reason, he would not yet discover his
+Passion.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the Time run on at <i>Orleans</i>, while <i>Rinaldo</i> found
+himself daily languishing at <i>Paris</i>. He was indeed in the best
+Academy in the City, amongst a Number of brave and noble Youths, where
+all things that could accomplish them, were to be learn’d by those that
+had any Genius; but <i>Rinaldo</i> had other Thoughts, and other
+Business: his Time was wholly past in the most solitary Parts of the
+Garden, by the melancholy Fountains, and in the most gloomy Shades,
+where he could with most Liberty breathe out his Passion and his Griefs.
+He was past the Tutorage of a Boy; and his Masters could not upbraid
+him, but found he had some secret Cause of Grief, which made him not
+mind those Exercises, which were the Delight of the rest: so that
+nothing being able to divert his Melancholy, which daily increased upon
+him, he fear’d it would bring him into a Fever, if he did not give
+himself the Satisfaction of seeing <i>Atlante</i>. He had no sooner
+thought of this, but he was impatient to put it in execution; he
+resolved to go (having very good Horses) without acquainting any of his
+Servants with it. He got a very handsom and light Ladder of Ropes made,
+which he carry’d under his Coat, and away he rid for <i>Orleans</i>,
+stay’d at a little Village, till the Darkness of the Night might favour
+his Design: And then walking about <i>Atlante’s</i> Lodgings, till he
+saw a Light in her Chamber, and then making that Noise on his Sword, as
+was agreed between them, he was heard by his adorable
+<span class = "pagenum">384</span>
+<i>Atlante</i>, and suffer’d to mount her Chamber, where he would stay
+till almost break of Day, and then return to the Village, and take
+Horse, and away for <i>Paris</i> again. This, once in a Month, was his
+Exercise, without which he could not live; so that his whole Year was
+past in riding between <i>Orleans</i> and <i>Paris</i>, between Excess
+of Grief, and Excess of Joy by turns.</p>
+
+<p>It was now that <i>Atlante</i>, arrived to her fifteenth Year, shone
+out with a Lustre of Beauty greater than ever; and in this Year, in the
+Absence of <i>Rinaldo</i>, had carry’d herself with that Severity of
+Life, without the youthful Desire of going abroad, or desiring any
+Diversion, but what she found in her own retired Thoughts, that
+<i>Vernole</i>, wholly unable longer to conceal his Passion, resolv’d to
+make a Publication of it, first to the Father, and then to the lovely
+Daughter, of whom he had some Hope, because she had carry’d her self
+very well towards him for this Year past; which she would never have
+done, if she had imagin’d he would ever have been her Lover: She had
+seen no Signs of any such Misfortune towards her in these many Years he
+had conversed with her, and she had no Cause to fear him. When one Day
+her Father taking her into the Garden, told her what Honour and
+Happiness was in store for her; and that now the Glory of his fall’n
+Family would rise again, since she had a Lover of an illustrious Blood,
+ally’d to Monarchs; and one whose Fortune was newly encreased to a very
+considerable Degree, answerable to his Birth. She changed Colour at this
+Discourse, imagining but too well who this illustrious Lover was; when
+<i>De Pais</i> proceeded and told her, ‘Indeed his Person was not the
+most agreeable that ever was seen: but he marry’d her to Glory and
+Fortune, not the Man: And a Woman (says&nbsp;he) ought to look no
+further.’</p>
+
+<p>She needed not any more to inform her who this intended Husband was;
+and therefore, bursting forth into Tears, she throws herself at his
+Feet, imploring him not
+<span class = "pagenum">385</span>
+to use the Authority of a Father, to force her to a thing so contrary to
+her Inclination: assuring him, she could not consent to any such thing;
+and that she would rather die than yield. She urged many Arguments for
+this her Disobedience; but none would pass for current with the old
+Gentleman, whose Pride had flatter’d him with Hopes of so considerable a
+Son-in-law: He was very much surpriz’d at <i>Atlante’s</i> refusing what
+he believ’d she would receive with Joy; and finding that no Arguments on
+his Side could draw hers to an obedient Consent, he grew to such a Rage,
+as very rarely possest him: vowing, if she did not conform her Will to
+his, he would abandon her to all the Cruelty of Contempt and Poverty: so
+that at last she was forced to return him this Answer, ‘That she would
+strive all she could with her Heart; but she verily believed she should
+never bring it to consent to a Marriage with Monsieur the Count.’ The
+Father continued threatning her, and gave her some Days to consider of
+it: So leaving her in Tears, he returned to his Chamber, to consider
+what Answer he should give Count <i>Vernole</i>, who he knew would be
+impatient to learn what Success he had, and what himself was to hope.
+<i>De Pais</i>, after some Consideration, resolved to tell him, she
+receiv’d the Offer very well, but that he must expect a little
+Maiden-Nicety in the Case: and accordingly did tell him so; and he was
+not at all doubtful of his good Fortune.</p>
+
+<p>But <i>Atlante</i>, who resolved to die a thousand Deaths rather than
+break her solemn Vows to <i>Rinaldo</i>, or to marry the Count, cast
+about how she should avoid it with the least Hazard of her Father’s
+Rage. She found <i>Rinaldo</i> the better and more advantageous Match of
+the two, could they but get his Father’s Consent: He was beautiful and
+young; his Title was equal to that of <i>Vernole</i>, when his Father
+should die; and his Estate exceeded his: yet she dares not make a
+Discovery, for fear she should injure her Lover; who at this Time,
+though she knew it not,
+<span class = "pagenum">386</span>
+lay sick of a Fever, while she was wondering that he came not as he used
+to do. However she resolves to send him a Letter, and acquaint him with
+the Misfortune; which she did in these Terms:</p>
+
+<p class = "center">
+<i>ATLANTE</i> to <i>RINALDO</i>.</p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword">My</span> Father’s Authority would force me to
+violate my sacred Vows to you, and give them to the Count
+<em>Vernole</em>, whom I mortally hate, yet could wish him the greatest
+Monarch in the World, that I might shew you I could even then despise
+him for your Sake. My Father is already too much enraged by my Denial,
+to hear Reason from me, if I should confess to him my Vows to you: So
+that I see nothing but a Prospect of Death before me; for assure your
+self, my <em>Rinaldo</em>, I will die rather than consent to marry any
+other: Therefore come my <em>Rinaldo</em>, and come quickly, to see my
+Funerals, instead of those Nuptials they vainly expect from</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+Your Faithful<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; </span><i>ATLANTE</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This Letter <i>Rinaldo</i> receiv’d; and there needed no more to make
+him fly to <i>Orleans</i>: This raised him soon from his Bed of
+Sickness, and getting immediately to horse, he arrived at his Father’s
+House; who did not so much admire to see him, because he heard he was
+sick of a Fever, and gave him leave to return, if he pleas’d: He went
+directly to his Father’s House, because he knew somewhat of the
+Business, he was resolv’d to make his Passion known, as soon as he had
+seen <i>Atlante</i>, from whom he was to take all his Measures: He
+therefore fail’d not, when all were in Bed, to rise and go from his
+Chamber into the Street; where finding a Light in <i>Atlante’s</i>
+Chamber, for she every Night expected him, he made the usual Sign, and
+she went into the Balcony; and he having no Conveniency of mounting up
+into it, they discoursed, and said all they had to say. From thence she
+tells him of the Count’s Passion, of her Father’s Resolution, and that
+her own was rather to die his, than live any Body’s else: And at last,
+as their Refuge,
+<span class = "pagenum">387</span>
+they resolv’d to discover the whole Matter; she to her Father, and he to
+his, to see what Accommodation they could make; if not, to die together.
+They parted at this Resolve, for she would permit him no longer to stay
+in the Street after such a Sickness; so he went home to bed, but not to
+sleep.</p>
+
+<p>The next Day, at Dinner, Monsieur <i>Bellyaurd</i> believing his Son
+absolutely cur’d, by Absence, of his Passion; and speaking of all the
+News in the Town, among the rest, told him he was come in good time to
+dance at the Wedding of Count <i>Vernole</i> with <i>Atlante</i>, the
+Match being agreed on: ‘No, Sir (reply’d <i>Rinaldo</i>) I shall never
+dance at the Marriage of Count <i>Vernole</i> with <i>Atlante</i>; and
+you will see in Monsieur <i>De Pais’s</i> House a Funeral sooner than a
+Wedding.’ And thereupon he told his Father all his Passion for that
+lovely Maid; and assur’d him, if he would not see him laid in his Grave,
+he must consent to this Match. <i>Bellyaurd</i> rose in a Fury, and told
+him, ‘He had rather see him in his Grave, than in the Arms of
+<i>Atlante</i>: Not (continued&nbsp;he) so much for any Dislike I have
+to the young Lady, or the Smallness of her Fortune; but because I have
+so long warn’d you from such a Passion, and have with such Care
+endeavour’d by your Absence to prevent it.’ He travers’d the Room very
+fast, still protesting against this Alliance: and was deaf to all
+<i>Rinaldo</i> could say. On the other side the Day being come, wherein
+<i>Atlante</i> was to give her final Answer to her Father concerning her
+Marriage with Count <i>Vernole</i>; she assum’d all the Courage and
+Resolution she could, to withstand the Storm that threatned a Denial.
+And her Father came to her, and demanding her Answer, she told him, ‘She
+could not be the Wife of <i>Vernole</i>, since she was Wife to
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, only son to <i>Bellyaurd</i>.’ If her Father storm’d
+before, he grew like a Man distracted at her Confession; and
+<i>Vernole</i> hearing them loud, ran to the Chamber to learn the Cause;
+where just as he enter’d he found <i>De Pais’s</i> Sword drawn, and
+ready to kill his
+<span class = "pagenum">388</span>
+Daughter, who lay all in Tears at his Feet. He with-held his Hand; and
+asking the Cause of his Rage, he was told all that <i>Atlante</i> had
+confess’d; which put <i>Vernole</i> quite beside all his Gravity, and
+made him discover the Infirmity of Anger, which he used to say ought to
+be dissembled by all wise Men: So that <i>De Pais</i> forgot his own to
+appease his, but ’twas in vain, for he went out of the House, vowing
+Revenge to <i>Rinaldo</i>: And to that end, being not very well assur’d
+of his own Courage, as I said before, and being of the Opinion, that no
+Man ought to expose his Life to him who has injur’d him; he hired
+<i>Swiss</i> and <i>Spanish</i> Soldiers to attend him in the nature of
+Footmen; and watch’d several Nights about <i>Bellyaurd’s</i> Door, and
+that of <i>De Pais’s</i>, believing he should some time or other see him
+under the Window of <i>Atlante</i>, or perhaps mounting into it: for now
+he no longer doubted, but this happy Lover was he, whom he fancy’d he
+heard go from the Balcony that Night he came up with his Pistol; and
+being more a <i>Spaniard</i> than a <i>Frenchman</i> in his Nature, he
+resolv’d to take him any way unguarded or unarm’d, if he came in his
+Way.</p>
+
+<p><i>Atlante</i>, who heard his Threatnings when he went from her in a
+Rage, fear’d his Cowardice might put him on some base Action, to deprive
+<i>Rinaldo</i> of his Life; and therefore thought it not safe to suffer
+him to come to her by Night, as he had before done; but sent him word in
+a Note, that he should forbear her Window, for <i>Vernole</i> had sworn
+his Death. This Note came, unseen by his Father, to his Hands: but this
+could not hinder him from coming to her Window, which he did as soon as
+it was dark: he came thither, only attended with his Valet, and two
+Footmen; for now he car’d not who knew the Secret. He had no sooner made
+the Sign, but he found himself incompass’d with <i>Vernole’s</i>
+Bravoes; and himself standing at a distance cry’d out, ‘That is he’:
+With that they all drew on both sides, and <i>Rinaldo</i> receiv’d a
+Wound in his Arm. <i>Atlante</i> heard this, and ran crying out, ‘That
+<span class = "pagenum">389</span>
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, prest by Numbers, would be kill’d.’ <i>De Pais</i>, who
+was reading in his Closet, took his Sword, and ran out; and, contrary to
+all Expectation, seeing <i>Rinaldo</i> fighting with his Back to the
+Door, pull’d him into the House, and fought himself with the Bravoes:
+who being very much wounded by <i>Rinaldo</i>, gave ground, and sheer’d
+off; and <i>De Pais</i>, putting up old <i>Bilbo</i> into the Scabbard,
+went into his House, where he found <i>Rinaldo</i> almost fainting with
+loss of Blood, and <i>Atlante</i>, with her Maids binding up his Wound;
+to whom <i>De Pais</i> said, ‘This charity, <i>Atlante</i>, very well
+becomes you, and is what I can allow you; and I could wish you had no
+other Motive for this Action.’ <i>Rinaldo</i> by degrees recover’d of
+his Fainting, and as well as his Weakness would permit him, he got up
+and made a low Reverence to <i>De Pais</i>, telling him, ‘He had now a
+double Obligation to pay him all the Respect in the World; first, for
+his being the Father of <i>Atlante</i>; and secondly, for being the
+Preserver of his Life: two Tyes that should eternally oblige him to love
+and honour him, as his own Parent.’ <i>De Pais</i> reply’d, ‘He had done
+nothing but what common Humanity compell’d him to do: But if he would
+make good that Respect he profess’d towards him, it must be in quitting
+all Hopes of <i>Atlante</i>, whom he had destin’d to another, or an
+eternal Inclosure in a Monastery: He had another Daughter, whom if he
+would think worthy of his Regard, he should take his Alliance as a very
+great Honour; but his Word and Reputation, nay his Vows were past, to
+give <i>Atlante</i> to Count <i>Vernole</i>.’ <i>Rinaldo</i>, who before
+he spoke took measure from <i>Atlante’s</i> Eyes, which told him her
+Heart was his, return’d this Answer to <i>De Pais</i>, ‘That he was
+infinitely glad to find by the Generosity of his Offer, that he had no
+Aversion against his being his Son-in-law; and that, next to
+<i>Atlante</i>, the greatest Happiness he could wish would be his
+receiving <i>Charlot</i> from his Hand; but that he could not think of
+quitting <i>Atlante</i>, how necessary soever it would be, for
+<span class = "pagenum">390</span>
+Glory, and his&mdash;(the further) Repose.’ <i>De Pais</i> would not let
+him at this time argue the matter further, seeing he was ill, and had
+need of looking after; he therefore begg’d he would for his Health’s
+sake retire to his own House, whither he himself conducted him, and left
+him to the Care of his Men, who were escap’d the Fray; and returning to
+his own Chamber, he found <i>Atlante</i> retir’d, and so he went to bed
+full of Thoughts. This Night had increas’d his Esteem for
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, and lessen’d it for Count <i>Vernole</i>; but his Word
+and Honour being past, he could not break it, neither with Safety nor
+Honour: for he knew the haughty resenting Nature of the Count, and he
+fear’d some Danger might arrive to the brave <i>Rinaldo</i>, which
+troubled him very much. At last he resolv’d, that neither might take any
+thing ill at his Hands, to lose <i>Atlante</i>, and send her to the
+Monastery where her Sister was, and compel her to be a Nun. This he
+thought would prevent Mischiefs on both sides; and accordingly, the next
+Day, (having in the Morning sent Word to the Lady Abbess what he would
+have done) he carries <i>Atlante</i>, under pretence of visiting her
+Sister, (which they often did) to the Monastery, where she was no sooner
+come, but she was led into the Inclosure: Her Father had rather
+sacrifice her, than she should be the Cause of the Murder of two such
+noble Men as <i>Vernole</i> and <i>Rinaldo</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The Noise of <i>Atlante’s</i> being inclos’d, was soon spread all
+over the busy Town, and <i>Rinaldo</i> was not the last to whom the News
+arriv’d: He was for a few Days confin’d to his Chamber; where, when
+alone, he rav’d like a Man distracted; But his Wounds had so incens’d
+his Father against <i>Atlante</i>, that he swore he would see his Son
+die of them, rather than suffer him to marry <i>Atlante</i>; and was
+extremely overjoy’d to find she was condemn’d, for ever, to the
+Monastery. So that the Son thought it the wisest Course, and most for
+the advantage of his Love, to say nothing to contradict his Father; but
+being almost assur’d <i>Atlante</i> would never consent to be shut up in
+a
+<span class = "pagenum">391</span>
+Cloyster, and abandon him, he flatter’d himself with hope, that he
+should steal her from thence, and marry her in spite of all Opposition.
+This he was impatient to put in practice: He believ’d, if he were not
+permitted to see <i>Atlante</i>, he had still a kind Advocate in
+<i>Charlot</i>, who was now arriv’d to her Thirteenth Year, and
+infinitely advanc’d in Wit and Beauty. <i>Rinaldo</i> therefore often
+goes to the Monastery, surrounding it, to see what Possibility there was
+of accomplishing his Design; if he could get her Consent, he finds it
+not impossible, and goes to visit <i>Charlot</i>; who had command not to
+see him, or speak to him. This was a Cruelty he look’d not for, and
+which gave him an unspeakable Trouble, and without her Aid it was wholly
+impossible to give <i>Atlante</i> any account of his Design. In this
+Perplexity he remain’d many Days, in which he languish’d almost to
+Death; he was distracted with Thought, and continually hovering about
+the Nunnery-Walls, in hope, at some time or other, to see or hear from
+that lovely Maid, who alone could make his Happiness. In these Traverses
+he often met <i>Vernole</i>, who had Liberty to see her when he pleas’d:
+If it happen’d that they chanc’d to meet in the Daytime, tho’
+<i>Vernole</i> was attended with an Equipage of Ruffians, and
+<i>Rinaldo</i> but only with a couple of Footmen, he could perceive
+<i>Vernole</i> shun him, grow pale, and almost tremble with Fear
+sometimes, and get to the other Side of the Street; and if he did not,
+<i>Rinaldo</i> having a mortal Hate to him, would often bear up so close
+to him, that he would jostle him against the Wall, which <i>Vernole</i>
+would patiently put up, and pass on; so that he could never be provok’d
+to fight by Day-light, how solitary soever the Place was where they met:
+but if they chanc’d to meet at Night, they were certain of a Skirmish,
+in which he would have no part himself; so that <i>Rinaldo</i> was often
+like to be assassinated, but still came off with some slight Wound. This
+continu’d so long, and made so great a Noise in the
+<span class = "pagenum">392</span>
+Town, that the two old Gentlemen were mightily alarm’d by it; and Count
+<i>Bellyaurd</i> came to <i>De Pais</i>, one Day, to discourse with him
+of this Affair; and <i>Bellyaurd</i>, for the Preservation of his Son,
+was almost consenting, since there was no Remedy, that he should marry
+<i>Atlante</i>. <i>De Pais</i> confess’d the Honour he proffer’d him,
+and how troubled he was, that his Word was already past to his Friend,
+the Count <i>Vernole</i>, whom he said she should marry, or remain for
+ever a Nun; but if <i>Rinaldo</i> could displace his Love from
+<i>Atlante</i>, and place it on <i>Charlot</i>, he should gladly consent
+to the Match. <i>Bellyaurd</i>, who would now do anything for the Repose
+of his Son, tho’ he believ’d this Exchange would not pass, yet resolv’d
+to propose it, since by marrying him he took him out of the Danger of
+<i>Vernole’s</i> Assassinates, who would never leave him till they had
+dispatch’d him, should he marry <i>Atlante</i>.</p>
+
+<p>While <i>Rinaldo</i> was contriving a thousand ways to come to speak
+to, or send Billets to <i>Atlante</i>, none of which could succeed
+without the Aid of <i>Charlot</i>, his Father came and propos’d this
+Agreement between <i>De Pais</i> and himself, to his Son. At first
+<i>Rinaldo</i> receiv’d it with a chang’d Countenance, and a breaking
+Heart; but swiftly turning from Thought to Thought, he conceiv’d this
+the only way to come at <i>Charlot</i>, and so consequently at
+<i>Atlante</i>: he therefore, after some dissembled Regret, consents,
+with a sad put-on Look: And <i>Charlot</i> had Notice given her to see
+and entertain <i>Rinaldo</i>. As yet they had not told her the Reason;
+which her Father would tell her, when he came to visit her, he said.
+<i>Rinaldo</i> over-joy’d at this Contrivance, and his own
+Dissimulation, goes to the Monastery, and visits <i>Charlot</i>; where
+he ought to have said something of this Proposition: but wholly bent
+upon other Thoughts, he sollicits her to convey some Letters, and
+Presents to <i>Atlante</i>; which she readily did, to the unspeakable
+Joy of the poor Distrest. Sometimes he would talk to <i>Charlot</i> of
+her own Affairs; asking her, if she
+<span class = "pagenum">393</span>
+resolv’d to become a Nun? To which she would sigh, and say, If she must,
+it would be extremely against her Inclinations; and, if it pleas’d her
+Father, she had rather begin the World with any tolerable Match.</p>
+
+<p>Things past thus for some Days, in which our Lovers were happy, and
+<i>Vernole</i> assur’d he should have <i>Atlante</i>. But at last <i>De
+Pais</i> came to visit <i>Charlot</i>, who ask’d her, if she had seen
+<i>Rinaldo</i>? She answer’d, ‘She had.’ ‘And how does he entertain you?
+(reply’d <i>De Pais</i>) Have you receiv’d him as a Husband? and has he
+behav’d himself like one?’ At this a sudden Joy seiz’d the Heart of
+<i>Charlot</i>; and both to confess what she had done for him to her
+Sister, she hung down her blushing Face to study for an Answer. <i>De
+Pais</i> continued, and told her the Agreement between <i>Bellyaurd</i>
+and him, for the saving of Bloodshed.</p>
+
+<p>She, who blest the Cause, whatever it was, having always a great
+Friendship and Tenderness for <i>Rinaldo</i>, gave her Father a thousand
+Thanks for his Care; and assur’d him, since she was commanded by him,
+she would receive him as her Husband.</p>
+
+<p>And the next Day, when <i>Rinaldo</i> came to visit her, as he us’d
+to do, and bringing a Letter with him, wherein he propos’d the flight of
+<i>Atlante</i>; he found a Coldness in <i>Charlot</i>, as soon as he
+told her his Design, and desir’d her to carry the Letter. He ask’d the
+Reason of this Change: She tells him she was inform’d of the Agreement
+between their two Fathers, and that she look’d upon herself as his Wife,
+and would act no more as a Confident; that she had ever a violent
+Inclination of Friendship for him, which she would soon improve into
+something more soft.</p>
+
+<p>He could not deny the Agreement, nor his Promise; but it was in vain
+to tell her, he did it only to get a Correspondence with <i>Atlante</i>:
+She is obstinate, and he as pressing, with all the Tenderness of
+Persuasion: He vows he can never be any but <i>Atlante’s</i>, and she
+may see him die, but never break his Vows. She urges her Claim
+<span class = "pagenum">394</span>
+in vain, so that at last she was overcome, and promised she would carry
+the Letter; which was to have her make her Escape that Night. He waits
+at the Gate for her Answer, and <i>Charlot</i> returns with one that
+pleased him very well; which was, that Night her Sister would make her
+Escape, and that he must stand in such a Place of the Nunnery-Wall, and
+she would come out to him.</p>
+
+<p>After this she upbraids him with his false Promise to her, and of her
+Goodness to serve him after such a Disappointment. He receives her
+Reproaches with a thousand Sighs, and bemoans her Misfortune in not
+being capable of more than Friendship for her; and vows, that next
+<i>Atlante</i>, he esteems her of all Womankind. She seems to be obliged
+by this, and assured him, she would hasten the Flight of <i>Atlante</i>;
+and taking leave, he went home to order a Coach, and some Servants to
+assist him.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time Count <i>Vernole</i> came to visit <i>Atlante</i>;
+but she refused to be seen by him: And all he could do there that
+Afternoon, was entertaining <i>Charlot</i> at the Grate; to whom he
+spoke a great many fine Things, both of her improved Beauty and Wit; and
+how happy <i>Rinaldo</i> would be in so fair a Bride. She received this
+with all the Civility that was due to his Quality; and their Discourse
+being at an End, he took his Leave, being towards the Evening.</p>
+
+<p><i>Rinaldo</i>, wholly impatient, came betimes to the Corner of the
+dead Wall, where he was appointed to stand, having ordered his Footmen
+and Coach to come to him as soon it was dark. While he was there walking
+up and down, <i>Vernole</i> came by the End of the Wall to go home; and
+looking about, he saw, at the other End, <i>Rinaldo</i> walking, whose
+Back was towards him, but he knew him well; and tho’ he feared and
+dreaded his Business there, he durst not encounter him, they being both
+attended but by one Footman a-piece. But <i>Vernole’s</i> Jealousy and
+Indignation were so high, that he resolved to fetch his Bravoes to his
+Aid, and come and assault him: For he knew he waited there for some
+Message from <i>Atlante</i>.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">395</span>
+<p>In the mean Time it grew dark, and <i>Rinaldo</i>’s Coach came with
+another Footman; which were hardly arrived, when <i>Vernole</i>, with
+his Assistants, came to the Corner of the Wall, and skreening themselves
+a little behind it, near to the Place where <i>Rinaldo</i> stood, who
+waited now close to a little Door, out of which the Gardeners used to
+throw the Weeds and Dirt, <i>Vernole</i> could perceive anon the Door to
+open, and a Woman come out of it, calling <i>Rinaldo</i> by his Name,
+who stept up to her, and caught her in his Arms with Signs of infinite
+Joy. <i>Vernole</i> being now all Rage, cry’d to his Assassinates, ‘Fall
+on, and kill the Ravisher’: And immediately they all fell on.
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, who had only his two Footmen on his Side, was forc’d to
+let go the Lady; who would have run into the Garden again, but the Door
+fell to and lock’d: so that while <i>Rinaldo</i> was fighting, and
+beaten back by the Bravoes, one of which he laid dead at his Feet,
+<i>Vernole</i> came to the frighted Lady, and taking her by the Hand,
+cry’d, ‘Come, my fair Fugitive, you must go along with me.’ She wholly
+scar’d out of her Senses, was willing to go any where out of the Terror
+she heard so near her, and without Reply, gave her self into his Hand,
+who carried her directly to her Father’s House; where she was no sooner
+come, but he told her Father all that had past, and how she was running
+away with <i>Rinaldo</i>, but that his good Fortune brought him just in
+the lucky Minute. Her Father turning to reproach her, found by the Light
+of a Candle that this was <i>Charlot</i>, and not <i>Atlante</i>, whom
+<i>Vernole</i> had brought Home: At which <i>Vernole</i> was extremely
+astonish’d. Her Father demanded of her why she was running away with a
+Man, who was design’d her by Consent? ‘Yes, (said <i>Charlot</i>) you
+had his Consent, Sir, and that of his Father; but I was far from getting
+it: I&nbsp;found he resolv’d to die rather than quit <i>Atlante</i>; and
+promising him my Assistance in his Amour, since he could never be mine,
+he got me to carry a Letter to
+<span class = "pagenum">396</span>
+<i>Atlante</i>; which was, to desire her to fly away with him. Instead
+of carrying her this Letter, I&nbsp;told her, he was design’d for me,
+and had cancell’d all his Vows to her: She swoon’d at this News; and
+being recover’d a little, I&nbsp;left her in the Hands of the Nuns, to
+persuade her to live; which she resolves not to do without
+<i>Rinaldo</i>. Tho’ they press’d me, yet I resolv’d to pursue my
+Design, which was to tell <i>Rinaldo</i> she would obey his kind
+Summons. He waited for her; but I put my self into his Hands in lieu of
+<i>Atlante</i>; and had not the Count receiv’d me, we had been marry’d
+by this time, by some false Light that could not have discover’d me: But
+I am satisfied, if I had, he would never have liv’d with me longer than
+the Cheat had been undiscover’d; for I find them both resolved to die,
+rather than change. And for my part, Sir, I&nbsp;was not so much in Love
+with <i>Rinaldo</i>, as I was out of love with the Nunnery; and took any
+Opportunity to quit a Life absolutely contrary to my Humour.’ She spoke
+this with a Gaiety so brisk, and an Air so agreeable, that
+<i>Vernole</i> found it touch’d his Heart; and the rather because he
+found <i>Atlante</i> would never be his; or if she were, he should be
+still in Danger from the Resentment of <i>Rinaldo</i>: he therefore
+bowing to <i>Charlot</i>, and taking her by the Hand, cry’d, ‘Madam,
+since Fortune has dispos’d you thus luckily for me, in my Possession,
+I&nbsp;humbly implore you would consent she should make me entirely
+happy, and give me the Prize for which I fought, and have conquer’d with
+my Sword.’ ‘My Lord, (reply’d <i>Charlot</i>, with a modest Air)
+I&nbsp;am superstitious enough to believe, since Fortune, so contrary to
+all our Designs, has given me into your Hands, that she from the
+beginning destin’d me to the Honour, which, with my Father’s Consent,
+I&nbsp;shall receive as becomes me.’ <i>De Pais</i> transported with
+Joy, to find all Things would be so well brought about, it being all one
+to him, whether <i>Charlot</i> or <i>Atlante</i> gave him Count
+<i>Vernole</i> for his Son-in-law, readily consented;
+<span class = "pagenum">397</span>
+and immediately a Priest was sent for, and they were that Night marry’d.
+And it being now not above seven o’Clock, many of their Friends were
+invited, the Musick sent for, and as good a Supper as so short a Time
+would provide, was made ready.</p>
+
+<p>All this was perform’d in as short a time as <i>Rinaldo</i> was
+fighting; and having kill’d one, and wounded the rest, they all fled
+before his conquering Sword, which was never drawn with so good a Will.
+When he came where his Coach stood, just against the Back-Garden-Door,
+he looked for his Mistress: But the Coachman told him, he was no sooner
+engaged, but a Man came, and with a thousand Reproaches on her Levity,
+bore her off.</p>
+
+<p>This made our young Lover rave; and he is satisfied she is in the
+Hands of his Rival, and that he had been fighting, and shedding his
+Blood, only to secure her Flight with him. He lost all Patience, and it
+was with much ado his Servants persuaded him to return; telling him in
+their Opinion, she was more likely to get out of the Hands of his Rival,
+and come to him, than when she was in the Monastery.</p>
+
+<p>He suffers himself to go into his Coach and be carry’d home; but he
+was no sooner alighted, than he heard Musick and Noise at <i>De
+Pais’s</i> House. He saw Coaches surround his Door, and Pages and
+Footmen, with Flambeaux. The Sight and Noise of Joy made him ready to
+sink at the Door; and sending his Footmen to learn the Cause of this
+Triumph, the Pages that waited told him, That Count <i>Vernole</i> was
+this Night married to Monsieur <i>De Pais’s</i> Daughter. He needed no
+more to deprive him of all Sense; and staggering against his Coach, he
+was caught by his Footmen and carried into his House, and to his
+Chamber, where they put him to Bed, all sensless as he was, and had much
+ado to recover him to Life. He ask’d for his Father, with a faint Voice,
+for he desir’d to see him before he died. It was told him he was gone to
+Count <i>Vernole’s</i> Wedding, where there was a perfect
+<span class = "pagenum">398</span>
+Peace agreed on between them, and all their Animosities laid aside. At
+this News <i>Rinaldo</i> fainted again; and his Servants call’d his
+Father home, and told him in what Condition they had brought home their
+Master, recounting to him all that was past. He hasten’d to
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, whom he found just recover’d of his Swooning; who,
+putting his Hand out to his Father, all cold and trembling, cry’d,
+‘Well, Sir, now you are satisfied, since you have seen <i>Atlante</i>
+married to Count <i>Vernole</i>, I hope now you will give your
+unfortunate Son leave to die; as you wish’d he should, rather than give
+him to the Arms of <i>Atlante</i>.’ Here his Speech fail’d, and he fell
+again into a Fit of Swooning; His Father ready to die with fear of his
+Son’s Death, kneel’d down by his Bed-side; and after having recover’d a
+little, he said, ‘My dear Son, I&nbsp;have been indeed at the Wedding of
+Count <i>Vernole</i>, but ’tis not <i>Atlante</i> to whom he is married,
+but <i>Charlot</i>; who was the Person you were bearing from the
+Monastery, instead of <i>Atlante</i>, who is still reserv’d for you, and
+she is dying till she hear you are reserv’d for her; Therefore, as you
+regard her Life, make much of your own, and make your self fit to
+receive her; for her Father and I have agreed the Marriage already.’ And
+without giving him leave to think, he call’d to one of his Gentlemen,
+and sent him to the Monastery, with this News to <i>Atlante</i>.
+<i>Rinaldo</i> bowed himself as low as he could in his Bed, and kiss’d
+the Hand of his Father, with Tears of Joy: But his Weakness continued
+all the next Day; and they were fain to bring <i>Atlante</i> to him, to
+confirm his Happiness.</p>
+
+<p>It must only be guessed by Lovers, the perfect Joy these two receiv’d
+in the sight of each other. <i>Bellyaurd</i> received her as his
+Daughter; and the next Day made her so, with very great Solemnity, at
+which were <i>Vernole</i> and <i>Charlot</i>: Between <i>Rinaldo</i> and
+him was concluded a perfect Peace, and all thought themselves happy in
+this <a class = "comm" name = "lucky_commtag2" id = "lucky_commtag2"
+href = "#lucky_comm2">double Union</a>.</p>
+
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<span class = "pagenum"><i>522</i></span>
+
+<h5><a name = "lucky_notes" id = "lucky_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The Lucky Mistake.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "lucky_comm1" id = "lucky_comm1" href = "#lucky_dedic">p.
+351</a>
+This Dedication only appears in the first edition (12mo, 1689), ‘for
+R.&nbsp;Bentley’. George Granville or Grenville,<a class = "tag" name =
+"tag_lucky_1" id = "tag_lucky_1" href = "#note_lucky_1">1</a> Lord
+Lansdowne, the celebrated wit, dramatist and poet, was born in 1667.
+Having zealously offered in 1688 to defend James II, during the
+subsequent reign he perforce ‘lived in literary retirement’. He then
+wrote <i>The She Gallants</i> (1696, and 4to, 1696), an excellent comedy
+full of jest and spirit. Offending, however, some ladies ‘who set up for
+chastity’ it made its exit. Granville afterwards revived it as <i>Once a
+Lover and Always a Lover</i>. <i>Heroick Love</i>, a&nbsp;tragedy
+(1698), had great success. <i>The Jew of Venice</i> (1701), is a
+piteously weak adaption of <i>The Merchant of Venice</i>. A short
+masque, <i>Peleus and Thetis</i> accompanies the play. <i>The British
+Enchanters</i>, an opera (1706), is a pleasing piece, and was very well
+received. At the accession of Queen Anne, Granville entered the
+political arena and attained considerable offices of state. Suspected of
+being an active Jacobite he was, under George I, imprisoned from 25
+September, 1715, till 8 February, 1717. In 1722 he went abroad, and
+lived in Paris for ten years. In 1732 he returned and published a finely
+printed edition of his complete <i>Works</i> (2&nbsp;Vols., 4to, 1732;
+and again, 3&nbsp;<ins class = "correction" title = ". missing">Vols.</ins>,
+1736, 12mo). He died 30 January, 1735, and is buried in St. Clement
+Danes.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "lucky_comm2" id = "lucky_comm2" href = "#lucky_commtag2">p.
+398</a>
+<i>double Union</i>. In a collection of Novels with running title:
+<i>The Deceived Lovers</i> (1696), we find No. <span class =
+"smallroman">V</span> <i>The Curtezan Deceived</i>, ‘An Addition to The
+Lucky Mistake, Written by Mrs. A.&nbsp;Behn.’ This introduction of Mrs.
+Behn’s name was a mere bookseller’s trick to catch the unwary reader.
+<i>The Curtezan Deceived</i> is of no value. It has nothing to do with
+Aphra’s work and is as commonplace a little novel as an hundred others
+of its day.</p>
+
+<p class = "footnote">
+<a class = "tag" name = "note_lucky_1" id = "note_lucky_1" href =
+"#tag_lucky_1">1</a>
+The spelling ‘Greenvil’ ‘Greenviel’ is incorrect.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">399</span>
+<a name = "unfortunate" id = "unfortunate">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE;<br>
+OR, THE BLIND LADY A BEAUTY.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">401</span>
+
+<h4><a class = "comm" name = "unfortunate_dedic" id =
+"unfortunate_dedic" href = "#unfortunate_comm1">
+TO RICHARD NORTON</a>, OF SOUTHWICK IN<br>
+HANTSHIRE, ESQUIRE.</h4>
+
+<p>Honour’d Sir,</p>
+
+<p>Eminent Wit, Sir, no more than Eminent Beauty, can escape the Trouble
+and Presumption of Addresses; and that which can strike every body with
+Wonder, can never avoid the Praise which naturally flows from that
+Wonder: And Heaven is forc’d to hear the Addresses as well as praises of
+the Poor as Rich, of the Ignorant as Learned, and takes, nay rewards,
+the officious tho’ perhaps impertinent Zeal of its least qualify’d
+Devotees. Wherefore, Sir, tho’ your Merits meet with the Applause of the
+Learned and Witty, yet your Generosity will judge favourably of the
+untaught Zeal of an humbler Admirer, since what I do your eminent
+Vertues compel. The Beautiful will permit the most despicable of their
+Admirers to love them, tho’ they never intend to make him happy, as
+unworthy their Love, but they will not be angry at the fatal Effect of
+their own Eyes.</p>
+
+<p>But what I want in my self, Sir, to merit your Regard, I hope my
+Authoress will in some measure supply, so far at least to lessen my
+Presumption in prefixing your Name to a Posthumous Piece of hers, whom
+all the Men of Wit, that were her Contemporaries, look’d on as the
+Wonder of her Sex; and in none of her Performances has she shew’d so
+great a Mastery as in her Novels, where Nature always prevails; and if
+they are not true, they are so like it, that they do the business every
+jot as well.</p>
+
+<p>This I hope, Sir, will induce you to pardon my Presumption in
+dedicating this Novel to you, and declaring my self, Sir,</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+Your most obedient<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp;</span>and most humble Servant,<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; &nbsp;</span>S. Briscoe.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">402</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "unfortunate_main" id = "unfortunate_main">
+THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE:</a><br>
+or, The Blind Lady a Beauty.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword"><i>Frankwit</i></span> and <i>Wildvill</i>,
+were two young Gentlemen of very considerable Fortunes, both born in
+<i>Staffordshire</i>, and, during their Minority, both educated
+together, by which Opportunity they contracted a very inviolable
+Friendship, a&nbsp;Friendship which grew up with them; and though it was
+remarkably known to every Body else, they knew it not themselves; they
+never made Profession of it in Words, but Actions; so true a Warmth
+their Fires could boast, as needed not the Effusion of their Breath to
+make it live. <i>Wildvill</i> was of the richest Family, but
+<i>Frankwit</i> of the noblest; <i>Wildvill</i> was admired for outward
+Qualifications, as Strength, and manly Proportions, <i>Frankwit</i> for
+a much softer Beauty, for his inward Endowments, Pleasing in his
+Conversation, of a free, and moving Air, humble in his Behaviour, and if
+he had any Pride, it was but just enough to shew that he did not affect
+Humility; his Mind bowed with a Motion as unconstrained as his Body, nor
+did he force this Vertue in the least, but he allowed it only. So <ins
+class = "correction" title = "spelling unchanged">aimable</ins> he was,
+that every Virgin that had Eyes, knew too she had a Heart, and knew as
+surely she should lose it. His <i>Cupid</i> could not be reputed blind,
+he never shot for him, but he was sure to wound. As every other Nymph
+admired him, so he was dear to all the Tuneful Sisters; the Muses were
+fired with him as much as their own radiant God <i>Apollo</i>; their
+loved Springs and Fountains were not so grateful to their Eyes as he,
+him they esteemed their <i>Helicon</i> and <i>Parnassus</i> too; in
+short, when ever he pleased, he could
+<span class = "pagenum">403</span>
+enjoy them all. Thus he enamour’d the whole Female Sex, but amongst all
+the sighing Captives of his Eyes, <i>Belvira</i> only boasted Charms to
+move him; her Parents lived near his, and even from their Childhood they
+felt mutual Love, as if their Eyes, at their first meeting, had struck
+out such Glances, as had kindled into amorous Flame. And now
+<i>Belvira</i> in her fourteenth Year, (when the fresh Spring of young
+Virginity began to cast more lively Bloomings in her Cheeks, and softer
+Longings in her Eyes) by her indulgent Father’s Care was sent to
+<i>London</i> to a Friend, her Mother being lately dead: When, as if
+Fortune ordered it so, <i>Frankwit’s</i> Father took a Journey to the
+other World, to let his Son the better enjoy the Pleasures and Delights
+of this: The young Lover now with all imaginable haste interred his
+Father, nor did he shed so many Tears for his Loss, as might in the
+least quench the Fire which he received from his <i>Belvira’s</i> Eyes,
+but (Master of seventeen Hundred Pounds a Year, which his Father left
+him) with all the Wings of Love flies to <i>London</i>, and sollicits
+<i>Belvira</i> with such Fervency, that it might be thought he meant
+Death’s Torch should kindle <i>Hymen’s</i>; and now as soon as he
+arrives at his Journey’s end, he goes to pay a Visit to the fair
+Mistress of his Soul, and assures her, That tho’ he was absent from her,
+yet she was still with him; and that all the Road he travell’d, her
+beauteous Image danced before him, and like the ravished Prophet, he saw
+his Deity in every Bush; in short, he paid her constant Visits, the Sun
+ne’er rose or set, but still he saw it in her Company, and every Minute
+of the Day he counted by his Sighs. So incessantly he importuned her
+that she could no longer hold out, and was pleased in the surrender of
+her Heart, since it was he was Conqueror; and therefore felt a Triumph
+in her yielding. Their Flames now joyned, grew more and more, glowed in
+their Cheeks, and lightened in their Glances: Eager they looked, as if
+<span class = "pagenum">404</span>
+there were Pulses beating in their Eyes; and all endearing, at last she
+vowed, that <i>Frankwit</i> living she would ne’er be any other Man’s.
+Thus they past on some time, while every Day rowl’d over fair; Heaven
+showed an Aspect all serene, and the Sun seemed to smile at what was
+done. He still caressed his Charmer, with an Innocence becoming his
+Sincerity; he lived upon her tender Breath, and basked in the bright
+Lustre of her Eyes, with Pride, and secret Joy.</p>
+
+<p>He saw his Rivals languish for that Bliss, those Charms, those
+Raptures and extatick Transports, which he engrossed alone. But now some
+eighteen Months (some Ages in a Lover’s Kalendar) winged with Delights,
+and fair <i>Belvira</i> now grown fit for riper Joys, knows hardly how
+she can deny her pressing Lover, and herself, to crown their Vows, and
+joyn their Hands as well as Hearts. All this while the young Gallant
+wash’d himself clean of that shining Dirt, his Gold; he fancied little
+of Heaven dwelt in his yellow Angels, but let them fly away, as it were
+on their own golden Wings; he only valued the smiling Babies in
+<i>Belvira’s</i> Eyes. His Generosity was boundless, as his Love, for no
+Man ever truly loved, that was not generous. He thought his Estate, like
+his Passion, was a sort of a <i>Pontick</i> Ocean, it could never know
+an Ebb; But now he found it could be fathom’d, and that the Tide was
+turning, therefore he sollicits with more impatience the consummation of
+their Joys, that both might go like Martyrs from their Flames
+immediately to Heaven; and now at last it was agreed between them, that
+they should both be one, but not without some Reluctancy on the Female
+side; for ’tis the Humour of our Sex, to deny most eagerly those Grants
+to Lovers, for which most tenderly we sigh, so contradictory are we to
+our selves, as if the Deity had made us with a seeming Reluctancy to his
+own Designs; placing as much Discords in our Minds, as there is Harmony
+in our Faces. We are a sort
+<span class = "pagenum">405</span>
+of aiery Clouds, whose Lightning flash out one way, and the Thunder
+another. Our Words and Thoughts can ne’er agree. So this young charming
+Lady thought her Desires could live in their own longings, like Misers
+wealth-devouring Eyes; and e’er she consented to her Lover, prepared him
+first with speaking Looks, and then with a fore-running Sigh, applyed to
+the dear Charmer thus: ‘<i>Frankwit</i>, I am afraid to venture the
+Matrimonial Bondage, it may make you think your self too much confined,
+in being only free to one.’ ‘Ah! my dear <i>Belvira</i>,’ he replied,
+‘That one, like <i>Manna</i>, has the Taste of all, why should I be
+displeased to be confined to Paradice, when it was the Curse of our
+Forefathers to be set at large, tho’ they had the whole World to roam
+in: You have, my love, ubiquitary Charms, and you are all in all, in
+every Part.’ ‘Ay, but,’ reply’d <i>Belvira</i>, ‘we are all like
+Perfumes, and too continual Smelling makes us seem to have lost our
+Sweets, I’ll be judged by my Cousin <i>Celesia</i> here, if it be not
+better to live still in mutual Love, without the last Enjoyment.’
+(I&nbsp;had forgot to tell my Reader that <i>Celesia</i> was an Heiress,
+the only Child of a rich <i>Turkey</i> Merchant, who, when he dyed, left
+her Fifty thousand Pound in Money, and some Estate in Land; but, poor
+Creature, she was Blind to all these Riches, having been born without
+the use of Sight, though in all other Respects charming to a wonder.)
+‘Indeed,’ says <i>Celesia</i>, (for she saw clearly in her Mind)
+‘I&nbsp;admire you should ask my Judgment in such a Case, where I have
+never had the least Experience; but I believe it is but a sickly Soul
+which cannot nourish its Offspring of Desires without preying upon the
+Body.’ ‘Believe me,’ reply’d <i>Frankwit</i>, ‘I bewail your want of
+Sight, and I could almost wish you my own Eyes for a Moment, to view
+your charming Cousin, where you would see such Beauties as are too
+dazling to be long beheld; and if too daringly you gazed, you would feel
+the Misfortune of the loss of Sight, much
+<span class = "pagenum">406</span>
+greater than the want of it: And you would acknowledge, that in too
+presumptuously seeing, you would be blinder then, than now unhappily you
+are.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Ah! I must confess,’ reply’d <i>Belvira</i>, ‘my poor, dear Cousin
+is Blind, for I fancy she bears too great an Esteem for <i>Frankwit</i>,
+and only longs for Sight to look on him.’ ‘Indeed,’ reply’d
+<i>Celesia</i>, ‘I would be glad to see <i>Frankwit</i>, for I fancy
+he’s as dazling, as he but now describ’d his Mistress, and if I fancy I
+see him, sure I do see him, for Sight is Fancy, is it not? or do you
+feel my Cousin with your Eyes?’ ‘This is indeed, a&nbsp;charming
+Blindness,’ reply’d <i>Frankwit</i>, ‘and the fancy of your Sight excels
+the certainty of ours. Strange! that there should be such Glances even
+in blindness? You, fair Maid, require not Eyes to conquer, if your Night
+has such Stars, what Sunshine would your Day of Sight have, if ever you
+should see?’ ‘I&nbsp;fear those Stars you talk of,’ said <i>Belvira</i>,
+‘have some Influence on you, and by the Compass you sail by now,
+I&nbsp;guess you are steering to my Cousin. She is indeed charming
+enough to have been another Offspring of bright <i>Venus</i>, Blind like
+her Brother <i>Cupid</i>.’ ‘That <i>Cupid</i>,’ reply’d <i>Celesia</i>,
+‘I am afraid has shot me, for methinks I would not have you marry
+<i>Frankwit</i>, but rather live as you do without the last Enjoyment,
+for methinks if he were marry’d, he would be more out of Sight than he
+already is.’ ‘Ah, Madam,’ return’d <i>Frankwit</i>, ‘Love is no
+Camelion, it cannot feed on Air alone.’ ‘No but,’ rejoyn’d
+<i>Celesia</i>, ‘you Lovers that are not Blind like Love it self, have
+am’rous Looks to feed on.’ ‘Ah! believe it,’ said <i>Belvira</i>, ‘’tis
+better, <i>Frankwit</i>, not to lose Paradice by too much Knowledge;
+Marriage Enjoyments does but wake you from your sweet golden Dreams:
+Pleasure is but a Dream, dear <i>Frankwit</i>, but a Dream, and to be
+waken’d.’ ‘Ah! Dearest, but unkind <i>Belvira</i>,’ answer’d
+<i>Frankwit</i>, ‘sure there’s no waking from Delight, in being lull’d
+on those soft Breasts of thine.’ ‘Alas! (reply’d the
+<span class = "pagenum">407</span>
+Bride to&nbsp;be) it is that very lulling wakes you; Women enjoy’d, are
+like Romances read, or Raree-shows once seen, meer Tricks of the slight
+of Hand, which, when found out, you only wonder at your selves for
+wondering so before at them. ’Tis Expectation endears the Blessing;
+Heaven would not be Heaven, could we tell what ’tis. When the Plot’s out
+you have done with the Play, and when the last Act’s done, you see the
+Curtain drawn with great indifferency.’ ‘O&nbsp;my <i>Belvira</i>’,
+answered <i>Frankwit</i>, ‘that Expectation were indeed a Monster which
+Enjoyment could not satisfy: I&nbsp;should take no pleasure,’ he
+rejoin’d, ‘running from Hill to Hill, like Children chasing that Sun,
+which I could never catch.’ ‘O&nbsp;thou shalt have it then, that Sun of
+Love,’ reply’d <i>Belvira</i>, fir’d by this Complaint, and gently
+rush’d into Arms, (rejoyn’d) so <i>Phœbus</i> rushes radiant and
+unsullied, into a gilded Cloud. ‘Well then, my dear <i>Belvira</i>,’
+answered <i>Frankwit</i>, ‘be assured I shall be ever yours, as you are
+mine; fear not you shall never draw Bills of Love upon me so fast, as I
+shall wait in readiness to pay them; but now I talk of Bills,
+I&nbsp;must retire into <i>Cambridgeshire</i>, where I have a small
+Concern as yet unmortgaged, I&nbsp;will return thence with a Brace of
+thousand Pounds within a Week at furthest, with which our Nuptials, by
+their Celebration, shall be worthy of our Love. And then, my Life, my
+Soul, we shall be join’d, never to part again.’ This tender Expression
+mov’d <i>Belvira</i> to shed some few Tears, and poor <i>Celesia</i>
+thought herself most unhappy that she had not Eyes to weep with too; but
+if she had, such was the greatness of her Grief, that sure she would
+have soon grown Blind with weeping. In short, after a great many soft
+Vows, and Promises of an inviolable Faith, they parted with a pompous
+sort of pleasing Woe; their Concern was of such a mixture of Joy and
+Sadness, as the Weather seems, when it both rains and shines. And now
+the last, the very last Adieu’s was over, for the Farewels of Lovers
+<span class = "pagenum">408</span>
+hardly ever end, and <i>Frankwit</i> (the Time being Summer) reach’d
+<i>Cambridge</i> that Night, about Nine a Clock; (Strange! that he
+should have made such Haste to fly from what so much he lov’d!) and now,
+tir’d with the fatigue of his Journey, he thought fit to refresh himself
+by writing some few Lines to his belov’d <i>Belvira</i>; for a little
+Verse after the dull Prose Company of his Servant, was as great an Ease
+to him, (from whom it flow’d as naturally and unartificially, as his
+Love or his Breath) as a Pace or Hand-gallop, after a hard, uncouth, and
+rugged Trot. He therefore, finding his <i>Pegasus</i> was no way tir’d
+with his Land-travel, takes a short Journey thro’ the Air, and writes as
+follows:</p>
+
+<p class = "salutation">
+<i>My dearest dear <em>Belvira</em>,</i></p>
+
+<div class = "poem">
+<p>YOU knew my Soul, you knew it yours before,</p>
+<p>I told it all, and now can tell no more;</p>
+<table class = "bracket" summary = "rhymed triplets">
+<tr><td class = "bracket">
+<p>Your Presents never wants fresh Charms to move,</p>
+<p>But now more strange, and unknown Pow’r you prove,</p>
+<p>For now your very Absence ’tis I love.</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+<p>Something there is which strikes my wandring View,</p>
+<p>And still before my Eyes I fancy you.</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td class = "bracket">
+<p>Charming you seem, all charming, heavenly fair,</p>
+<p>Bright as a Goddess, does my Love appear,</p>
+<p>You seem, <i>Belvira</i>, what indeed you are.</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+<p>Like the Angelick Off-spring of the Skies,</p>
+<p>With beatifick Glories in your Eyes:</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td class = "bracket">
+<p>Sparkling with radiant Lustre all Divine,</p>
+<p>Angels, and Gods! oh Heavens! how bright they shine!</p>
+<p>Are you <i>Belvira</i>? can I think you mine!</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+<p>Beyond ev’n Thought, I do thy Beauties see,</p>
+<p>Can such a Heaven of Heavens be kept for me!</p>
+<p>Oh be assur’d, I shall be ever true,</p>
+<p>I must<span class = "dash">&mdash;&mdash;</span></p>
+<p>For if I would, I can’t be false to you.</p>
+<span class = "pagenum">409</span>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td class = "bracket">
+<p>Oh! how I wish I might no longer stay,</p>
+<p>Tho’ I resolve I will no Time delay,</p>
+<p>One Tedious Week, and then I’ll fleet away.</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td class = "bracket">
+<p>Tho’ Love be blind, he shall conduct my Road,</p>
+<p>Wing’d with almighty Love, to your Abode,</p>
+<p>I’ll fly, and grow Immortal as a God.</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+<p>Short is my stay, yet my impatience strong,</p>
+<p>Short tho’ it is, alas! I think it long.</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td class = "bracket">
+<p>I’ll come, my Life, new Blessings to pursue,</p>
+<p>Love then shall fly a Flight he never flew,</p>
+<p>I’ll stretch his balmy Wings; I’m yours,&mdash;<i>Adieu</i>.</p>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p class = "right">
+<i>Frankwit.</i></p>
+
+<p>This Letter <i>Belvira</i> receiv’d with unspeakable Joy, and laid it
+up safely in her Bosom; laid it, where the dear Author of it lay before,
+and wonderfully pleas’d with his Humour of writing Verse, resolv’d not
+to be at all behind-hand with him, and so writ as follows:</p>
+
+<p class = "salutation">
+<i>My dear Charmer,</i></p>
+
+<div class = "poem">
+<p>YOU knew before what Power your Love could boast,</p>
+<p>But now your constant Faith confirms me most.</p>
+<table class = "bracket" summary = "rhymed triplets">
+<tr><td class = "bracket">
+<p>Absent Sincerity the best assures,</p>
+<p>Love may do much, but Faith much more allures,</p>
+<p>For now your Constancy has bound me yours.</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+<p>I find, methinks, in Verse some Pleasure too,</p>
+<p>I cannot want a Muse, who write to you.</p>
+<p>Ah! soon return, return, my charming Dear,</p>
+<p>Heav’n knows how much we Mourn your Absence here:</p>
+<p>My poor <i>Celesia</i> now would Charm your Soul,</p>
+<p>Her Eyes, once Blind, do now Divinely rowl.</p>
+<p>An aged Matron has by Charms unknown,</p>
+<p>Given her clear Sight as perfect as thy own.</p>
+<p>And yet, beyond her Eyes, she values thee,</p>
+<p>’Tis for thy Sake alone she’s glad to see.</p>
+<span class = "pagenum">410</span>
+<p>She begg’d me, pray remember her to you,</p>
+<p>That is a Task which now I gladly do.</p>
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td class = "bracket">
+<p>Gladly, since so I only recommend</p>
+<p>A dear Relation, and a dearer Friend,</p>
+<p>Ne’re shall my Love&mdash;but here my Note must end.</p>
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p class = "right">
+<i>Your ever true <em>Belvira</em>.</i></p>
+
+<p>When this Letter was written, it was strait shown to <i>Celesia</i>,
+who look’d upon any Thing that belong’d to <i>Frankwit</i>, with
+rejoycing Glances; so eagerly she perus’d it, that her tender Eyes
+beginning to Water, she cry’d out, (fancying she saw the Words dance
+before her View) ‘Ah! Cousin, Cousin, your Letter is running away, sure
+it can’t go itself to <i>Frankwit</i>.’ A great Deal of other pleasing
+innocent Things she said, but still her Eyes flow’d more bright with
+lustrous Beams, as if they were to shine out; now all that glancing
+Radiancy which had been so long kept secret, and, as if, as soon as the
+Cloud of Blindness once was broke, nothing but Lightnings were to flash
+for ever after. Thus in mutual Discourse they spent their Hours, while
+<i>Frankwit</i> was now ravished with the Receipt of this charming
+Answer of <i>Belvira’s</i>, and blest his own Eyes which discovered to
+him the much welcome News of fair <i>Celesia’s</i>. Often he read the
+Letters o’re and o’re, but there his Fate lay hid, for <ins class =
+"correction" title = "text reads ‘twas’ without apostrophe">’twas</ins>
+that very Fondness proved his Ruin. He lodg’d at a Cousin’s House of
+his, and there, (it&nbsp;being a private Family) lodged likewise a
+Blackamoor Lady, then a Widower; a&nbsp;whimsical Knight had taken a
+Fancy to enjoy her: <i>Enjoy her did I say? Enjoy the Devil in the Flesh
+at once!</i> I know not how it was, but he would fain have been a Bed
+with her, but she not consenting on unlawful Terms, (<i>but sure all
+Terms are with her unlawful</i>) the Knight soon marry’d her, as if
+there were not hell enough in Matrimony, but he must wed the Devil too.
+The Knight a little after died, and left this Lady of his (whom I shall
+<i>Moorea</i>) an Estate of six thousand
+<span class = "pagenum">411</span>
+Pounds <i>per Ann</i>. Now this <i>Moorea</i> observed the joyous
+<i>Frankwit</i> with an eager Look, her Eyes seemed like Stars of the
+first Magnitude glaring in the Night; she greatly importuned him to
+discover the Occasion of his transport, but he denying it, (as&nbsp;’tis
+the Humour of our Sex) made her the more Inquisitive; and being Jealous
+that it was from a Mistress, employ’d her Maid to steal it, and if she
+found it such, to bring it her: accordingly it succeeded, for
+<i>Frankwit</i> having drank hard with some of the Gentlemen of that
+Shire, found himself indisposed, and soon went to Bed, having put the
+Letter in his Pocket: The Maid therefore to <i>Moorea</i> contrived that
+all the other Servants should be out of the Way, that she might
+plausibly officiate in the Warming the Bed of the indisposed Lover, but
+likely, had it not been so, she had warmed it by his Intreaties in a
+more natural Manner; he being in Bed in an inner Room, she slips out the
+Letter from his Pocket, carries it to her Mistress to read, and so
+restores it whence she had it; in the Morning the poor Lover wakened in
+a violent Fever, burning with a Fire more hot than that of Love. In
+short, he continued Sick a considerable while, all which time the Lady
+<i>Moorea</i> constantly visited him, and he as unwillingly saw her
+(poor Gentleman) as he would have seen a Parson; for as the latter would
+have perswaded, so the former scared him to Repentance. In the mean
+while, during his sickness, several Letters were sent to him by his dear
+<i>Belvira</i>, and <i>Celesia</i> too, (then learning to write) had
+made a shift to give him a line or two in Postscript with her Cousin,
+but all was intercepted by the jealousy of the Black <i>Moorea</i>,
+black in her mind, and dark, as well as in her body. <i>Frankwit</i> too
+writ several Letters as he was able, complaining of her unkindness,
+those likewise were all stopt by the same Blackmoor Devil. At last, it
+happened that <i>Wildvill</i>, (who I told my Reader was
+<i>Frankwit’s</i> friend) came to <i>London</i>, his Father likewise
+dead, and now Master of a very plentiful fortune,
+<span class = "pagenum">412</span>
+he resolves to marry, and paying a visit to <i>Belvira</i>, enquires of
+her concerning <i>Frankwit</i>, she all in mourning for the loss, told
+him his friend was dead. ‘Ah! <i>Wildvill</i>, he is dead,’ said she,
+‘and died not mine, a&nbsp;Blackmoor Lady had bewitched him from me;
+I&nbsp;received a Letter lately which informed me all; there was no name
+subscribed to it, but it intimated, that it was written at the request
+of dying <i>Frankwit</i>.’ ‘Oh! I&nbsp;am sorry at my Soul,’ said
+<i>Wildvill</i>, ‘for I loved him with the best, the dearest friendship;
+no doubt then,’ rejoyned he, ‘’tis Witchcaft indeed that could make him
+false to you; what delight could he take in a Blackmoor Lady, tho’ she
+had received him at once with a Soul as open as her longing arms, and
+with her Petticoat put off her modesty. Gods! How could he change a
+whole <i>Field Argent</i> into downright <i>Sables</i>.’ ‘’Twas done,’
+returned <i>Celesia</i>, ‘with no small blot, I&nbsp;fancy, to the
+Female ’Scutcheon.’ In short, after some more discourse, but very
+sorrowful, <i>Wildvill</i> takes his leave, extreamly taken with the
+fair <i>Belvira</i>, more beauteous in her cloud of woe; he paid her
+afterwards frequent visits, and found her wonder for the odd inconstancy
+of <i>Frankwit</i>, greater than her sorrow, since he dy’d so unworthy
+of her. <i>Wildvill</i> attack’d her with all the force of vigorous
+love, and she (as&nbsp;she thought) fully convinc’d of <i>Frankwit’s</i>
+death, urg’d by the fury and impatience of her new ardent Lover, soon
+surrender’d, and the day of their Nuptials now arriv’d, their hands were
+joyn’d. In the mean time <i>Frankwit</i> (for he still liv’d) knew
+nothing of the Injury the base <i>Moorea</i> practis’d, knew not that
+’twas thro’ her private order, that the fore-mention’d account of his
+falshood and his death was sent; but impatient to see his Dear
+<i>Belvira</i>, tho’ yet extremely weak, rid post to <i>London</i>, and
+that very day arriv’d there, immediately after the Nuptials of his
+Mistress and his Friend were celebrated. I&nbsp;was at this time in
+<i>Cambridge</i>, and having some small acquaintance with this Blackmoor
+Lady, and sitting in her Room that
+<span class = "pagenum">413</span>
+evening, after <i>Frankwit’s</i> departure thence, in <i>Moorea’s</i>
+absence, saw inadvertently a bundle of Papers, which she had gathered
+up, as I suppose, to burn, since now they grew but useless, she having
+no farther Hopes of him: I&nbsp;fancy’d I knew the Hand, and thence my
+Curiosity only led me to see the Name and finding <i>Belvira</i>
+subscrib’d, I&nbsp;began to guess there was some foul play in Hand.
+<i>Belvira</i> being my particularly intimate Acquaintance, I&nbsp;read
+one of them, and finding the Contents, convey’d them all secretly out
+with me, as I thought, in Point of Justice I was bound, and sent them to
+<i>Belvira</i> by that Night’s Post; so that they came to her Hands soon
+after the Minute of her Marriage, with an Account how, and by what Means
+I came to light on them. No doubt but they exceedingly surpriz’d her:
+But Oh! Much more she grew amaz’d immediately after, to see the Poor,
+and now unhappy <i>Frankwit</i>, who privately had enquir’d for her
+below, being received as a Stranger, who said he had some urgent
+Business with her, in a back Chamber below Stairs. What Tongue, what Pen
+can express the mournful Sorrow of this Scene! At first they both stood
+Dumb, and almost Senseless; she took him for the Ghost of
+<i>Frankwit</i>; he looked so pale, new risen from his Sickness, he (for
+he had heard at his Entrance in the House, that his <i>Belvira</i>
+marry’d <i>Wildvill</i>) stood in Amaze, and like a Ghost indeed, wanted
+the Power to speak, till spoken to the first. At last, he draws his
+Sword, designing there to fall upon it in her Presence; she then
+imagining it his Ghost too sure, and come to kill her, shrieks out and
+Swoons; he ran immediately to her, and catch’d her in his Arms, and
+while he strove to revive and bring her to herself, tho’ that he thought
+could never now be done, since she was marry’d. <i>Wildvill</i> missing
+his Bride, and hearing the loud Shriek, came running down, and entring
+the Room, sees his Bride lie clasp’d in <i>Frankwit’s</i> Arms. ‘Ha!
+Traytor!’ He cries out, drawing his Sword with an
+<span class = "pagenum">414</span>
+impatient Fury, ‘have you kept that Strumpet all this while, curst
+<i>Frankwit</i>, and now think fit to put your damn’d cast Mistress upon
+me: could not you forbear her neither ev’n on my Wedding Day? abominable
+Wretch!’ Thus saying, he made a full Pass at <i>Frankwit</i>, and run
+him thro’ the left Arm, and quite thro’ the Body of the poor
+<i>Belvira</i>; that thrust immediately made her start, tho’
+<i>Frankwit’s</i> Endeavours all before were useless. Strange! that her
+Death reviv’d her! For ah! she felt, that now she only liv’d to die!
+Striving thro’ wild Amazement to run from such a Scene of Horror, as her
+Apprehensions shew’d her; down she dropt, and <i>Frankwit</i> seeing her
+fall, (all Friendship disannull’d by such a Chain of Injuries) Draws,
+fights with, and stabs his own loved <i>Wildvill</i>. Ah! Who can
+express the Horror and Distraction of this fatal Misunderstanding! The
+House was alarm’d, and in came poor <i>Celesia</i>, running in Confusion
+just as <i>Frankwit</i> was off’ring to kill himself, to die with a
+false Friend, and perjur’d Mistress, for he suppos’d them such. Poor
+<i>Celesia</i> now bemoan’d her unhappiness of sight, and wish’d she
+again were blind. <i>Wildvill</i> dy’d immediately, and <i>Belvira</i>
+only surviv’d him long enough to unfold all their most unhappy fate,
+desiring <i>Frankwit</i> with her dying breath, if ever he lov’d her,
+(and now she said that she deserv’d his love, since she had convinced
+him that she was not false) to marry her poor dear <i>Celesia</i>, and
+love her tenderly for her <i>Belvira’s</i> sake; leaving her, being her
+nearest Relation, all her fortune, and he, much dearer than it all, to
+be added to her own; so joyning his and <i>Celesia’s</i> Hands, she
+poured her last breath upon his Lips, and said, ‘Dear <i>Frankwit</i>,
+<i>Frankwit</i>, I die yours.’ With tears and wondrous sorrow he
+promis’d to obey her Will, and in some months after her interrment, he
+perform’d his promise.</p>
+
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<h5><a name = "unfortunate_notes" id = "unfortunate_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The Unfortunate Bride.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "unfortunate_comm1" id = "unfortunate_comm1" href =
+"#unfortunate_dedic">p. 401</a>
+<i>To Richard Norton.</i> This Epistle Dedicatory is only to be found in
+the first edition of <i>The Unfortunate Bride; or, The Blind Lady a
+Beauty</i>, ‘Printed for Samuel Briscoe, in Charles-Street,
+Covent-Garden, 1698’, and also dated, on title page facing the portrait
+of Mrs. Behn, 1700.</p>
+
+<p>Southwick, Hants, is a parish and village some 1¾ miles from
+Portchester, 4½ from Fareham. Richard Norton was son and heir of Sir
+Daniel Norton, who died seised of the manor in 1636. Richard
+<span class = "pagenum">523</span>
+Norton married Anne, daughter of Sir William Earle, by whom he had one
+child, Sarah. He was, in his county at least, a&nbsp;figure of no little
+importance. Tuesday, 12 August, 1701, Luttrell records that ‘an addresse
+from the grand jury of Hampshire .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. was delivered by
+Richard Norton and Anthony Henly, esqs. to the lords justices, to be
+laid before his majestie.’ He aimed at being a patron of the fine arts,
+and under his superintendence Dryden’s <i>The Spanish Friar</i> was
+performed in the frater of Southwick Priory,<a class = "tag" name =
+"tag_unfortunate_1" id = "tag_unfortunate_1" href =
+"#note_unfortunate_1">1</a> the buildings of which had not been entirely
+destroyed at the suppression. Colley Cibber addresses the Dedicatory
+Epistle (January, 1695) of his first play, <i>Love’s Last Shift</i>
+(4to, 1696), to Norton in a highly eulogistic strain. The plate of
+Southwick Church (S.&nbsp;James), consisting of a communion cup,
+a&nbsp;standing paten, two flagons, an alms-dish, and a rat-tail spoon,
+is silver-gilt, and was presented by Richard Norton in 1691. He died 10
+December, 1732.</p>
+
+<p class = "footnote">
+<a class = "tag" name = "note_unfortunate_1" id = "note_unfortunate_1"
+href = "#tag_unfortunate_1">1</a>
+The house was one of Black (Austin) Canons.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">415</span>
+<a name = "dumb_virgin" id = "dumb_virgin">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE DUMB VIRGIN; OR,<br>
+THE FORCE OF IMAGINATION.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">417</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "dumb_intro" id = "dumb_intro">
+INTRODUCTION.</a></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">Consanguinity</span> and love which are
+treated in this novel so romantically and with such tragic catastrophe
+had already been dealt with in happier mood by Mrs. Behn in <i>The Dutch
+Lover</i>. <i>Vide</i> Note on the Source of that play, Vol. I,
+p.&nbsp;218.
+<a class = "crossref" href = "#dumb_crossref">
+Cross-Reference: <i>The Dutch Lover</i>, Sources.</a></p>
+
+<p>In classic lore the Œdipus Saga enthralled the imagination of
+antiquity and inspired dramas amongst the world’s masterpieces. Later
+forms of the tale may be found in Suidas and Cedrenus.</p>
+
+<p>The Legend of St. Gregory, based on a similar theme, the hero of
+which, however, is innocent throughout, was widely diffused through
+mediæval Europe. It forms No. 81 of the <i>Gesta Romanorum</i>. There is
+an old English poem<a class = "tag" name = "tag_dumb_1" id =
+"tag_dumb_1" href = "#note_dumb_1">1</a> on the subject, and it also
+received lyric treatment at the hands of the German meistersinger,
+Hartmann von Aue. An Italian story, <i>Il Figliuolo di germani</i>, the
+chronicle of St. Albinus, and the Servian romaunt of the Holy Foundling
+Simeon embody similar circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>Matteo Bandello, Part II, has a famous<a class = "tag" name =
+"tag_dumb_2" id = "tag_dumb_2" href = "#note_dumb_2">2</a> novel (35)
+with rubric, ‘un gentiluomo navarrese sposa una, che era sua sorella e
+figliuola, non lo sapendo,’ which is almost exactly the same as the
+thirtieth story of the <i>Heptameron</i>. As the good Bishop declares
+that it was related to him by a lady living in the district, it is
+probable that some current tradition furnished both him and the Queen of
+Navarre with these horrible incidents and that neither copied from the
+other.<a class = "tag" name = "tag_dumb_3" id = "tag_dumb_3" href =
+"#note_dumb_3">3</a></p>
+
+<p>Bandello was imitated in Spanish by J. Perez de Montalvan, <i>Sucesos
+y Prodigios de Amor&mdash;La Mayor confusion</i>; in Latin by
+D.&nbsp;Otho Melander; and he also gave Desfontaines the subject of
+<i>L’Inceste Innocent; Histoire Véritable</i> (Paris, 1644).
+A&nbsp;similar tale is touched upon in <i>Amadis de Gaule</i>, and in a
+later century we find <i>Le Criminel sans le Savoir, Roman Historique et
+Poëtique</i> (Amsterdam and Paris, 1783). It is also found in Brevio’s
+<i>Rime e Prose</i>; Volgari, novella iv; and in T.&nbsp;Grapulo
+(or&nbsp;Grappolino), <i>Il Convito Borghesiano</i> (Londra, 1800).
+A&nbsp;cognate legend is <i>Le Dit du Buef</i> and <i>Le Dit de la
+Bourjosee de Rome</i>. (ed.&nbsp;Jubinal, <i>Nouveau Recueil</i>; and
+<i>Nouveau Recueil du Sénateur de Rome .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</i> ed. Méon.)
+Again: the <i>Leggenda di Vergogna, etc. testi del buon secolo in prosa
+e in verso</i>, edited by A.&nbsp;D’Ancona (Bologna, 1869) repeats the
+same catastrophe. It is also related in Byshop’s <i>Blossoms</i>.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">418</span>
+<p>In Luther’s <i>Colloquia Mensalia</i>, under the article ‘Auricular
+Confession’, the occurrence is said to have taken place at Erfurt in
+Germany. Julio de Medrano, a&nbsp;Spanish writer of the sixteenth
+century, says that a similar story was related to him when he was in the
+Bourbonnois, where the inhabitants pointed out the house which had been
+the scene of these morbid passions. France, indeed, seems to have been
+the home of the tradition, and Le Roux de Lincy in the notes to his
+excellent edition of the <i>Heptameron</i> quotes from Millin,
+<i>Antiquités Nationales</i> (t.&nbsp;iii. f.&nbsp;xxviii. p.&nbsp;6.)
+who, speaking of the Collegiate Church of Ecouis, says that in the midst
+of the nave there was a prominent white marbel tablet with this
+epitaph:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class = "verse">
+<p>Cy-gist la fille, cy-gist le père,</p>
+<p>Cy-gist la soeur, cy-gist le frère;</p>
+<p>Cy-gist la femme, et le mary,</p>
+<p>Et si n’y a que deux corps icy.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The tradition ran that a son of ‘Madame d’Ecouis avait eu de sa mère
+sans la connaître et sans en être reconnu une fille nommée Cécile. Il
+épousa ensuite en Lorraine cette même Cécile qui était auprès de la
+Duchesse de Bar .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Il furent enterrés dans le même tombeau
+en 1512 à Ecouis.’ An old sacristan used to supply curious visitors to
+the church with a leaflet detailing the narrative. The same story is
+attached to other parishes, and at Alincourt, a&nbsp;village between
+Amiens and Abbeville, the following lines are inscribed upon a
+grave:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class = "verse">
+<p>Ci git le fils, ci git la mère,</p>
+<p>Ci git la fille avec le père,</p>
+<p>Ci git la soeur, ci git le frère,</p>
+<p>Ci git la femme et le mari,</p>
+<p>Et ne sont pas que trois corps ici.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>When Walpole wrote his tragedy, <i>The Mysterious Mother</i> (1768),
+he states he had no knowledge of Bandello or the <i>Heptameron</i>, but
+he gives the following account of the origin of his theme. ‘I&nbsp;had
+heard when very young, that a gentlewoman, under uncommon agonies of
+mind, had waited on Archbishop Tillotson and besought his counsel.
+A&nbsp;damsel that served her had, many years before, acquainted her
+that she was importuned by the gentlewoman’s son to grant him a private
+meeting. The mother ordered the maiden to make the assignation, when she
+said she would discover herself and reprimand him for his criminal
+passion; but, being hurried away by a much more criminal passion
+herself, she kept the assignation without discovering herself. The fruit
+of this horrid artifice was a daughter, whom the gentlewoman caused to
+be educated very privately in the country; but proving very lovely and
+being accidentally met by her father-brother, who never had the
+slightest suspicion of the truth, he had fallen in love with and
+actually married her. The wretched guilty mother learning what had
+happened, and distracted with the consequence of her crime, had now
+resorted to the Archbishop to know in what manner she should act. The
+prelate charged her never to let her son and daughter know what had
+passed, as they were innocent of any criminal intention. For herself, he
+bad her almost despair.’</p>
+
+<p>The same story occurs in the writings of the famous Calvinistic
+divine,
+<span class = "pagenum">419</span>
+William Perkins (1558-1602), sometime Rector of St. Andrew’s, Cambridge.
+Thence it was extracted for <i>The Spectator</i>.</p>
+
+<p>In Mat Lewis’ ghoulish romance, <i>The Monk</i> (1796) it will be
+remembered that Ambrosio, after having enjoyed Antonia, to whose
+bedchamber he has gained admittance by demoniacal aid, discovers that
+she is his sister, and heaping crime upon crime to sorcery and rape he
+has added incest.</p>
+
+<p>There is a tragic little novel, ‘<i>The Illegal Lovers; a True Secret
+History.</i> Being an Amour Between A Person of Condition and his
+Sister. Written by One who did reside in the Family.’ (8vo, 1728.) After
+the death of his wife, Bellario falls in love with his sister Lindamira.
+Various sentimental letters pass between the two, and eventually
+Bellario in despair pistols himself. The lady lives to wed another
+admirer. The tale was obviously suggested by the <i>Love Letters between
+a Nobleman and his Sister</i>.</p>
+
+<div class = "footnote">
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_dumb_1" id = "note_dumb_1" href =
+"#tag_dumb_1">1</a>
+There are three MSS. <i>Vernon MS.</i>, Oxford, edited by Horstmann;
+<i>MS. Cott</i>, <i>Cleop. D. ix</i>, British Museum; <i>Auchinleck
+MS.</i>, Advocates’ Library, Edinburgh, edited with glossary by
+F.&nbsp;Schultz, 1876.</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_dumb_2" id = "note_dumb_2" href =
+"#tag_dumb_2">2</a>
+cf. Masuccio. <i>Il Novellino</i>, No. 23.</p>
+
+<p><a class = "tag" name = "note_dumb_3" id = "note_dumb_3" href =
+"#tag_dumb_3">3</a>
+Bandello’s novels first appeared at Lucca, 4to, 1554. Marguerite of
+Angoulême died 21 December, 1549. The <i>Heptameron</i> was composed
+1544-8 and published 1558.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">420</span>
+
+<h4><a name = "dumb_main" id = "dumb_main">
+THE DUMB VIRGIN:</a><br>
+or, the Force of Imagination.</h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword"><i>Rinaldo</i></span>, a Senator of the
+great City <i>Venice</i>, by a plentiful Inheritance, and industrious
+Acquisitions, was become Master of a very plentiful Estate; which, by
+the Countenance of his Family, sprung from the best Houses in
+<i>Italy</i>, had rendred him extreamly popular and honoured; he had
+risen to the greatest Dignities of that State, all which Offices he
+discharged with Wisdom and Conduct, befitting the Importance of his
+Charge, and Character of the Manager; but this great Person had some
+Accident in his Children, sufficient to damp all the Pleasure of his
+more smiling Fortunes; he married when young, a&nbsp;beautiful and
+virtuous Lady, who had rendred him the happy Father of a Son; but his
+Joys were soon disturbed by the following Occasion.</p>
+
+<p>There stands an Island in the <i>Adriatick</i> Sea, about twenty
+Leagues from <i>Venice</i>, a&nbsp;Place wonderfully pleasant in the
+Summer, where Art and Nature seem to out-rival each other, or seem
+rather to combine in rendring it the most pleasant of their products;
+being placed under the most benign climate in the World, and situated
+exactly between <i>Italy</i> and <i>Greece</i>, it appears an entire
+Epitome of all the Pleasures in them both; the proper glories of the
+Island were not a little augmented by the confluence of Gentlemen and
+Ladies of the chiefest Rank in the City, insomuch that this was a
+greater mark for Beauty and Gallantry, than <i>Venice</i> for Trade.
+Among others <i>Rinaldo’s</i> Lady begged her Husband’s permission to
+view this so much celebrated place.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">421</span>
+<p>He was unwilling to trust his treasure to the treachery of the watry
+element; but repeating her request, he yielded to her desires, his love
+not permitting him the least shew of command, and so thro’ its extent,
+conspiring its own destruction. His Lady with her young Son (whom she
+would not trust from her sight) and a splendid attendance in a Barge
+well fitted, sets out for the Island, <i>Rinaldo</i> being detained at
+home himself about some important affairs relating to the publick,
+committed the care of his dear Wife and Child to a faithful Servant
+call’d <i>Gaspar</i>; and for their greater security against Pyrates,
+had obtained his Brother, who commanded a <i>Venetian</i> Galley, to
+attend them as Convoy. In the evening they set out from <i>Venice</i>,
+with a prosperous gale, but a storm arising in the night, soon separated
+the Barge from her Convoy, and before morning drove her beyond the
+designed Port, when, instead of discovering the wish’d-for Island, they
+could see a <i>Turkish</i> Pyrate bearing towards them, with all her
+Sail; their late apprehensions of Shipwrack, were drowned in the greater
+danger of Captivity and lasting Slavery, their fears drove some into
+resolutions as extravagant as the terrors that caused them, but the
+confusion of all was so tumultuous, and the designs so various, that
+nothing could be put in execution for the publick safety; the greatest
+share of the passengers being Ladies, added strangely to the
+consternation; beauty always adds a pomp to woe, and by its splendid
+show, makes sorrow look greater and more moving. Some by their piteous
+plaints and wailings proclaimed their griefs aloud, whilst others
+bespoke their sorrows more emphatically by sitting mournfully silent;
+the fears of some animated them to extravagant actions, whilst the
+terrors of others were so mortifying, that they shewed no sign of Life,
+but by their trembling; some mourned the rigour of their proper fate,
+others conscious of the sorrows their Friends and Relations should
+sustain through their loss, made the griefs of them their own;
+<span class = "pagenum">422</span>
+but the heaviest load of misfortunes lay on <i>Rinaldo’s</i> Lady,
+besides the loss of her liberty, the danger of her honour, the
+separation from her dear Husband, the care for her tender Infant wrought
+rueful distractions; she caught her Child in her Arms, and with Tears
+extorted thro’ Fear and Affection, she deplor’d the Misfortune of her
+Babe, the pretty Innocent smiling in the Embraces of its Mother, shew’d
+that Innocence cou’d deride the Persecution of Fortune; at length she
+delivered the Infant into the Hand of <i>Gasper</i>, begging him to use
+all Endeavours in its Preservation, by owning it for his, when they fell
+into the Hands of the Enemy.</p>
+
+<p>But <i>Gasper</i>, who amidst the universal Consternation, had a
+peculiar Regard to his own Safety, and Master’s Interest, undertook a
+Design desperately brave. Two long Planks, which lay lengthwise in the
+Barge, as Seats, he had ty’d together with Ropes, and taking the Infant
+from the Mother, whilst the whole Vessel was in a distracted Confusion,
+he fast’ned it to the Planks, and shoving both over-board before him,
+plung’d into the Sea after, dragging the Planks that bore the Infant
+with one Hand, and swimming with t’other, making the next Land; he had
+swam about two hundred Paces from the Barge before his Exploit was
+discover’d, but then the Griefs of <i>Rinaldo’s</i> Lady were doubly
+augmented, seeing her Infant expos’d to the Fury of the merciless Winds
+and Waves, which she then judged more rigorous than the <i>Turks</i>;
+for to a weak Mind, that Danger works still the strongest, that’s most
+in View; but when the Pirate, who by this time had fetch’d them within
+Shot, began to Fire, she seem’d pleas’d that her Infant was out of that
+Hazard, tho’ exposed to a greater. Upon their Sign of yielding, the
+<i>Turk</i> launching out her Boat, brought them all on board her; but
+she had no time to examine her Booty, being saluted by a Broadside,
+vigorously discharg’d from a <i>Venetian</i> Galley, which bore down
+upon them, whilst they were taking aboard their
+<span class = "pagenum">423</span>
+Spoil; this Galley was that commanded by <i>Rinaldo’s</i> Brother, which
+cruising that Way in quest of the Barge, happily engag’d the
+<i>Turk</i>, before they had Leisure to offer any Violence to the
+Ladies, and plying her warmly the Space of two Hours, made her a Prize,
+to the inexpressible Joy of the poor Ladies, who all this time under
+Hatches, had sustain’d the Horrors of ten thousand Deaths by dreading
+one.</p>
+
+<p>All the greater Dangers over, <i>Rinaldo’s</i> Lady began to reflect
+on the strange Riddle of her Son’s Fortune, who by shunning one Fate,
+had (in&nbsp;all Probability) fallen into a worse, for they were above
+ten Leagues from any Land, and the Sea still retain’d a Roughness,
+unsettled since the preceeding Storm; she therefore begg’d her
+Brother-in-Law to Sail with all Speed in Search of her Son and
+<i>Gasper</i>; but all in vain, for cruising that Day, and the
+succeeding Night along the Coasts, without making any Discovery of what
+they sought, he sent a Boat to be inform’d by the Peasants, of any such
+Landing upon their Coast; but they soon had a dismal Account, finding
+the Body of <i>Gasper</i> thrown dead on the Sand, and near to him the
+Planks, the unhappy Occasion of his Flight, and the Faithless Sustainers
+of the Infant. So thinking these mournful Objects Testimonies enough of
+the Infant’s Loss, they return’d with the doleful Relation to their
+Captain and the Lady; her Grief at the recital of the Tragic Story, had
+almost transported her to Madness; what Account must she now make to the
+mournful Father, who esteem’d this Child the chief Treasure of his Life;
+she fear’d, that she might forfeit the Affection of a Husband, by being
+the unfortunate Cause of so great a Loss; but her Fears deceiv’d her,
+for altho’ her Husband, receiv’d her with great Grief, ’twas
+nevertheless moderated by the Patience of a Christian, and the Joy for
+recovering his beloved Lady.</p>
+
+<p>This Misfortune was soon lessen’d by the growing Hopes of another
+Off-spring, which made them divest their
+<span class = "pagenum">424</span>
+Mourning, to make Preparations for the joyful Reception of this new
+Guest into the World; and upon its Appearance their Sorrows were
+redoubled, ’twas a Daughter, its Limbs were distorted, its Back bent,
+and tho’ the face was the freest from Deformity, yet had it no Beauty to
+Recompence the Dis-symetry of the other Parts; Physicians being
+consulted in this Affair, derived the Cause from the Frights and dismal
+Apprehensions of the Mother, at her being taken by the Pyrates; about
+which time they found by Computation, the Conception of the Child to be;
+the Mother grew very Melancholy, rarely speaking, and not to be
+comforted by any Diversion. She conceiv’d again, but no hopes of better
+Fortune cou’d decrease her Grief, which growing with her Burden, eased
+her of both at once, for she died in Child-birth, and left the most
+beautiful Daughter to the World that ever adorn’d <i>Venice</i>, but
+naturally and unfortunately Dumb, which defect the learn’d attributed to
+the Silence and Melancholy of the Mother, as the Deformity of the other
+was to the Extravagance of her Frights.</p>
+
+<p><i>Rinaldo</i>, waving all Intentions of a second Marriage, directs
+his Thoughts to the Care of his Children, their Defects not lessening
+his Inclination, but stirring up his Endeavours in supplying the
+Defaults of Nature by the Industry of Art; he accordingly makes the
+greatest Provision for their Breeding and Education, which prov’d so
+effectual in a little Time, that their Progress was a greater Prodigy
+than themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The Eldest, called <i>Belvideera</i>, was indefatigably addicted to
+Study, which she had improv’d so far, that by the sixteenth Year of her
+Age, she understood all the <i>European</i> Languages, and cou’d speak
+most of’em, but was particularly pleas’d with the <i>English</i>, which
+gave me the Happiness of many Hours Conversation with her; and I may
+ingenuously declare, ’twas the most Pleasant I ever enjoy’d, for besides
+a piercing Wit, and depth of Understanding peculiar to
+<span class = "pagenum">425</span>
+herself, she delivered her Sentiments with that easiness and grace of
+Speech, that it charm’d all her Hearers.</p>
+
+<p>The Beauties of the second Sister, nam’d <i>Maria</i>, grew with her
+Age, every twelve Months saluting her with a New-years Gift of some
+peculiar Charm; her Shapes were fine set off with a graceful and easy
+Carriage; the Majesty and Softness of her Face, at once wrought Love and
+Veneration; the Language of her Eyes sufficiently paid the Loss of her
+Tongue, and there was something so Commanding in her Look, that it
+struck every Beholder as dumb as herself; she was a great Proficient in
+Painting, which puts me in mind of a notable Story I can’t omit; her
+Father had sent for the most Famous Painter in <i>Italy</i> to draw her
+Picture, she accordingly sat for it; he had drawn some of the Features
+of her Face; and coming to the Eye, desired her to give him as brisk and
+piercing a Glance as she cou’d; but the Vivacity of her Look so
+astonished the Painter, that thro’ concern he let his Pencil drop and
+spoiled the Picture; he made a second Essay, but with no better Success,
+for rising in great Disorder, he swore it impossible to draw that which
+he cou’d not look upon; the Lady vexed at the Weakness of the Painter,
+took up his Pencils and the Picture, and sitting down to her Glass,
+finished it herself; she had improv’d her silent Conversation with her
+Sister so far, that she was understood by her, as if she had spoke, and
+I remember this Lady was the first I saw use the significative Way of
+Discourse by the Fingers; I&nbsp;dare not say ’twas she invented it
+(tho’ it probably might have been an Invention of these ingenious
+Sisters) but I am positive none before her ever brought it to that
+Perfection.</p>
+
+<p>In the seventeenth of <i>Belvideera’s</i>, and sixteenth Year of
+<i>Maria’s</i> Age, <i>Francisco</i>, Brother to <i>Rinaldo</i>, was
+made Admiral of the <i>Venetian</i> Fleet, and upon his first Entrance
+upon his Command, had obtained a signal Victory over the <i>Turks</i>;
+he returning to <i>Venice</i> with Triumph, applause
+<span class = "pagenum">426</span>
+and spoil, presented to the great Duke a young <i>English</i> Gentleman,
+who only as a Volunteer in the Action, had signalized himself very
+bravely in the Engagement, but particularly by first boarding the
+<i>Turkish</i> Admiral Galley, and killing her Commander hand to hand;
+the Fame of this Gentleman soon spread over all <i>Venice</i>, and the
+two Sisters sent presently for me, to give an Account of the Exploits of
+my Countryman, as their Unkle had recounted it to them; I&nbsp;was
+pleas’d to find so great an Example of <i>English</i> Bravery, so far
+from Home, and long’d extreamly to converse with him, vainly flattering
+myself, that he might have been of my Acquaintance. That very Night
+there was a grand Ball and Masquerade at the great Duke’s Palace, for
+the most signal Joy of the late Success, thither <i>Belvideera</i>
+invited me to Accompany her and <i>Maria</i>, adding withal as a Motive,
+that we might there most probably meet, and Discourse with this young
+Hero; and equipping me with a Suit of Masquerade, they carried me in
+their Coach to the Ball, where we had pass’d half an Hour, when I saw
+enter a handsom <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘Gentlemen’">Gentleman</ins> in a rich <i>English</i> Dress;
+I&nbsp;show’d him to <i>Belvideera</i>, who moving towards him, with a
+gallant Air, slaps him on the Shoulder with her Fan, he turning about,
+and viewing her Person, the Defaults of which were not altogether hidden
+by her Disguise; ‘Sir, (said&nbsp;he) if you are a Man, know that I am
+one, and will not bear Impertinence; but, if you are a Lady, Madam, as I
+hope in Heavens you are not, I&nbsp;must inform you, that I am under a
+Vow, not to converse with any Female to Night;’ ‘Know then, Sir,
+(answered <i>Belvideera</i> very smartly) that I am a Female, and you
+have broke your Vow already; but methinks, Sir, the Ladies are very
+little oblig’d to your Vow, which wou’d rob them of the Conversation of
+so fine a Gentleman.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Madam, (said the Gentleman) the Sweetness of your Voice bespeaks you
+a Lady, and I hope the breaking my Vow will be so far from Damning me,
+that I shall thereby
+<span class = "pagenum">427</span>
+merit Heaven, if I may be blest in your Divine Conversation.’
+<i>Belvideera</i> made such ingenious and smart Repartees to the
+Gentleman, who was himself a great Courtier, that he was entirely
+captivated with her Wit, insomuch, that he cou’d not refrain making
+Protestations of his Passion; he talked about half an Hour in such pure
+<i>Italian</i>, that I began to mistrust my <i>Englishman</i>, wherefore
+taking some Occasion to jest upon his Habit, I&nbsp;found ’twas only a
+Masquerade to cloak a down-right <i>Venetian</i>; in the mean Time, we
+perceiv’d a Gentleman Gallantly attir’d with no Disguise but a
+<i>Turkish</i> Turbant on, the richliest beset with Jewels I ever saw;
+he addressed <i>Maria</i> with all the Mien and Air of the finest
+Courtier; he had talked to her a good while before we heard him, but
+then <i>Belvideera</i>, knowing her poor Sister uncapable of any
+Defence, ‘Sir, (said she to the <i>Venetian</i>,) yonder is a Lady of my
+Acquaintance, who lies under a Vow of Silence as you were, I&nbsp;must
+therefore beg your Pardon, and fly to her Relief’: ‘She can never be
+conquer’d, who has such a Champion,’ (reply’d the Gentleman) upon which
+<i>Belvideera</i> turning from him, interpos’d between the Gentleman and
+her Sister, saying, ‘This Lady, Sir, is under an Obligation of Silence,
+as a Penance imposed by her Father-Confessor.’ ‘Madam, (reply’d the
+Gentleman) whoever impos’d Silence on these fair Lips, is guilty of a
+greater Offence than any, such a fair Creature cou’d commit.’ ‘Why, Sir,
+(said <i>Belvideera</i>) have you seen the Lady’s Beauty’: ‘Yes, Madam,
+(answer’d&nbsp;he) for urging her to talk, which I found she declin’d,
+I&nbsp;promis’d to disengage her from any farther Impertinence, upon a
+Sight of her Face; she agreed by paying the Price of her Liberty, which
+was ransom enough for any Thing under Heavens, but her fair Company’; he
+spoke in an Accent that easily shew’d him a Stranger; which
+<i>Belvideera</i> laying hold of, as an Occasion of Railery, ‘Sir, (said
+she,) your Tongue pronounces you a great Stranger in this Part of
+<span class = "pagenum">428</span>
+the World, I&nbsp;hope you are not what that Turbant represents;
+perhaps, Sir, you think your self in the Seraglio’; ‘Madam,
+(reply’d&nbsp;he,) this Turbant might have been in the <i>Turkish</i>
+Seraglio, but never in so fair a one as this; and this Turbant (taking
+it off) is now to be laid at the Foot of some Christian Lady, for whose
+safety, and by whose protecting Influence, I&nbsp;had the Happiness to
+win it from the Captain of the <i>Turkish</i> Admiral Galley.’ We were
+all surpriz’d, knowing him then the young <i>English</i> Gentleman, we
+were so curious of seeing; <i>Belvideera</i> presently talk’d
+<i>English</i> to him, and made him some very pretty Complements upon
+his Victory, which so charm’d the young Soldier, that her Tongue claim’d
+an equal Share in his Heart with <i>Maria’s</i> Eyes; ‘Madam, (said he
+to her) if you have the Beauty of that Lady, or if she has your Wit,
+I&nbsp;am the most happy, or the most unfortunate Man alive.’ ‘Sir,’
+said the <i>Venetian</i> coming up, ‘pray give me leave to share in your
+Misfortunes.’ ‘Sir, (said <i>Belvideera</i> very smartly) you must share
+in his good Fortunes, and learn to conquer Men, before you have the
+Honour of being subdu’d by Ladies, we scorn mean Prizes, Sir.’ ‘Madam,
+(said the <i>Venetian</i> in some Choler) perhaps I can subdue a Rival.’
+‘Pray, Sir, (said the Stranger) don’t be angry with the Lady, she’s not
+your Rival I hope, Sir.’ Said the <i>Venetian</i>, ‘I can’t be angry at
+the Lady, because I love her; but my Anger must be levell’d at him, who
+after this Declaration dare own a Passion for her.’ ‘Madam, (said the
+<i>English</i> Gentleman turning from the <i>Venetian</i>) Honour now
+must extort a Confession from me, which the Awfulness of my Passion
+durst never have own’d: And I must declare,’ added he in a louder Voice,
+‘to all the World, that I love you, lest this Gentleman shou’d think his
+Threats forc’d me to disown it.’ ‘O! then (said <i>Belvideera</i>)
+you’re his Rival in Honour, not in Love.’ ‘In honourable Love I am,
+Madam,’ answer’d the Stranger. ‘I’ll try,’ (said the <i>Venetian</i>,
+going off in
+<span class = "pagenum">429</span>
+Choler,) he Whisper’d a little to a Gentleman, that stood at some
+Distance, and immediately went out; this was <i>Gonzago</i>,
+a&nbsp;Gentleman of good Reputation in <i>Venice</i>, his Principles
+were Honour and Gallantry, but the Former often sway’d by Passions,
+rais’d by the Latter. All this while, <i>Maria</i> and I were admiring
+the Stranger, whose Person was indeed wonderfully Amiable; his Motions
+were exact, yet free and unconstrain’d; the Tone of his Voice carried a
+sweet Air of Modesty in it, yet were all his Expressions manly; and to
+summ up all, he was as fine an <i>English</i> Gentleman, as I ever saw
+Step in the <i>Mall</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Poor <i>Maria</i> never before envied her Sister the Advantage of
+Speech, or never deplor’d the Loss of her own with more Regret, she
+found something so Sweet in the Mien, Person, and Discourse of this
+Stranger, that her Eyes felt a dazling Pleasure in beholding him, and
+like flattering Mirrours represented every Action and Feature, with some
+heightning Advantage to her Imagination: <i>Belvideera</i> also had some
+secret Impulses of Spirit, which drew her insensibly into a great Esteem
+of the Gentleman; she ask’d him, by what good Genius, propitious to
+<i>Venice</i>, he was induced to Live so remote from his Country; he
+said, that he cou’d not imploy his Sword better than against the common
+Foe of Christianity; and besides, there was a peculiar Reason, which
+prompted him to serve there, which Time cou’d only make known.
+I&nbsp;made bold to ask him some peculiar Questions, about Affairs at
+Court, to most of which he gave Answers, that shew’d his Education
+liberal, and himself no Stranger to Quality; he call’d himself <a class
+= "comm" name = "dumb_commtag1" id = "dumb_commtag1" href =
+"#dumb_comm1"><i>Dangerfield</i></a>, which was a Name that so pleas’d
+me, that being since satisfied it was a Counterfeit, I&nbsp;us’d it in a
+Comedy of mine: We had talk’d ’till the greater Part of the Company
+being dispers’d, <i>Dangerfield</i> begg’d Leave to attend us to our
+Coach, and waiting us to the Door, the Gentleman, whom <i>Gonzago</i>
+whisper’d, advanc’d and offer’d his Service to hand <i>Maria</i>; she
+declin’d
+<span class = "pagenum">430</span>
+it, and upon his urging, she turn’d to the other Side of
+<i>Dangerfield</i>, who, by this Action of the Ladies finding himself
+intitled to her Protection, ‘Sir, (said&nbsp;he) Favours from great
+Beauties, as from great Monarchs, must flow Voluntarily, not by
+Constraint, and whosoever wou’d extort from either, are liable to the
+great Severity of Punishment.’ ‘Oh! Sir, (reply’d the <i>Venetian</i>
+very arrogantly,) I&nbsp;understand not your Monarchy, we live here
+under a free State; besides, Sir, where there is no Punishment to be
+dreaded, the Law will prove of little Force; and so, Sir, by your
+Leave,’ offering to push him aside, and lay hold on the Lady.
+<i>Dangerfield</i> returned the Justle so vigorously, that the
+<i>Venetian</i> fell down the Descent of some Stairs at the Door, and
+broke his Sword: <i>Dangerfield</i> leap’d down after him, to prosecute
+his Chastizement, but seeing his Sword broken, only whisper’d him, that
+if he wou’d meet him next Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St.
+<i>Mark’s</i> Church, he wou’d satisfie him for the Loss of his Sword;
+upon which, the <i>Venetian</i> immediately went off, cursing his ill
+Fate, that prevented his quarrelling with <i>Dangerfield</i>, to whom he
+had born a grudging Envy ever since his Success in the late Engagement,
+and of whom, and his Lodgings, he had given <i>Gonzago</i> an Account,
+when he whisper’d him at the Ball. <i>Dangerfield</i> left us full of
+his Praises, and went home to his Lodgings, where he found a Note
+directed to him to this Effect:</p>
+
+<p class = "salutation">SIR,</p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword">You</span> declared Publickly at the Ball, you
+were my Rival in Love and Honour: If you dare prove it by Maintaining
+it, I&nbsp;shall be to morrow Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St.
+<em>Mark’s</em> Church, where I shall be ready to fall a Sacrifice to
+both.</p>
+
+<p class = "right">Gonzago.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dangerfield</i>, on the Perusal of this Challenge, began to
+reflect on the Strangeness of that Evening’s Adventure, which had
+engag’d him in a Passion for two Mistresses,
+<span class = "pagenum">431</span>
+and involv’d him in two Duels; and whether the Extravagance of his
+Passion, or the Oddness of his Fighting-Appointments, were most
+remarkable, he found hard to Determine; his Love was divided between the
+Beauty of one Lady, and Wit of another, either of which he loved
+passionately, yet nothing cou’d satisfy him, but the Possibility of
+enjoying both. He had appointed the Gentleman at the Ball to meet him at
+the same Time and Place, which <i>Gonzago’s</i> Challenge to him
+imported; this Disturbance employed his Thought till Morning, when
+rising and dressing himself very richly, he walked to the appointed
+Place. <i>Erizo</i>, who was the Gentleman whose Sword he had broke, was
+in the Place before him; and <i>Gonzago</i> entered at the same Time
+with him. <i>Erizo</i>, was surprized to see <i>Gonzago</i>, as much as
+he was to find <i>Erizo</i> there. ‘I&nbsp;don’t remember, Friend (said
+<i>Gonzago</i>) that I desired your Company here this Morning.’ ‘As much
+as I expected yours,’ answered <i>Erizo</i>. ‘Come, Gentlemen, (said
+<i>Dangerfield</i>, interrupting them) I&nbsp;must fight you both, it
+seems: which shall I dispatch first?’ ‘Sir, (said <i>Erizo</i>) you
+challeng’d me, and therefore I claim your Promise.’ ‘Sir, (reply’d
+<i>Gonzago</i>) he must require the same of me first, as I challenged
+him.’ Said <i>Erizo</i>, ‘the Affront I received was unpardonable, and
+therefore I must fight him first, lest if he fall by your Hands,
+I&nbsp;be depriv’d of my Satisfaction.’ ‘Nay (reply’d <i>Gonzago</i>) my
+Love and Honour being laid at Stake, first claims his Blood; and
+therefore, Sir, (continued he to <i>Dangerfield</i>) defend yourself.’
+‘Hold (said <i>Erizo</i> interposing,) if you thrust home, you injure
+me, your Friend.’ ‘You have forfeited that title, (said <i>Gonzago</i>
+all in Choler,) and therefore if you stand not aside, I’ll push at you.’
+‘Thrust home then, (said <i>Erizo</i>) and take what follows.’ They
+immediately assaulted each other vigorously. ‘Hold, Gentlemen, (said
+<i>Dangerfield</i> striking down their Swords) by righting your selves
+you injure me, robbing me of that Satisfaction,
+<span class = "pagenum">432</span>
+which you both owe me, and therefore, Gentlemen, you shall fight me,
+before any private Quarrel among your selves defraud me of my Revenge,
+and so one or both of you,’ thrusting first at <i>Erizo</i>. ‘I’m your
+Man,’ (said <i>Gonzago</i>) parrying the Thrust made at <i>Erizo</i>.
+The Clashing of so many Swords alarm’d some Gentlemen at their
+<i>Mattins</i> in the Church, among whom was <i>Rinaldo</i>, who since
+the Death of his Wife, had constantly attended Morning-Service at the
+Church, wherein she was buried. He with Two or Three more, upon the
+Noise ran out, and parting the three Combatants, desired to know the
+Occasion of their Promiscuous Quarrel. <i>Gonzago</i> and <i>Erizo</i>
+knowing <i>Rinaldo</i>, gave him an Account of the Matter, as also who
+the Stranger was. <i>Rinaldo</i> was overjoy’d to find the brave
+<i>Britain</i>, whom he had received so great a Character of, from his
+Brother the Admiral, and accosting him very Courteously, ‘Sir,
+(said&nbsp;he) I&nbsp;am sorry our Countrymen shou’d be so Ungrateful as
+to Injure any Person, who has been so Serviceable to the State; and
+pray, Gentlemen, (added he, addressing the other two) be intreated to
+suspend your Animosities, and come Dine with me at my House, where I
+hope to prevail with you to end your Resentments.’ <i>Gonzago</i> and
+<i>Erizo</i> hearing him Compliment the Stranger at their Expence, told
+him in a Rage, they wou’d chuse some other Place than his House, to end
+their Resentments in, and walk’d off. <i>Dangerfield</i>, on
+<i>Rinaldo’s</i> farther Request, accompanied him to his House.</p>
+
+<p><i>Maria</i> had newly risen, and with her Night-gown only thrown
+loose about her, had look’d out of the Window, just as her Father and
+<i>Dangerfield</i> were approaching the Gate, at the same Instant she
+cast her Eyes upon <i>Dangerfield</i>, and he accidentally look’d up to
+the Window where she stood, their Surprize was mutual, but that of
+<i>Dangerfield</i> the greater; he saw such an amazing Sight of Beauty,
+as made him doubt the Reality of the Object,
+<span class = "pagenum">433</span>
+or distrust the Perfection of his Sight; he saw his dear Lady, who had
+so captivated him the preceeding Day, he saw her in all the heightning
+Circumstances of her Charms, he saw her in all her native Beauties, free
+from the Incumbrance of Dress, her Hair as black as Ebony, hung flowing
+in careless Curls over her Shoulders, it hung link’d in amorous
+Twinings, as if in Love with its own Beauties; her Eyes not yet freed
+from the Dullness of the late Sleep, cast a languishing Pleasure in
+their Aspect, which heaviness of Sight added the greatest Beauties to
+those Suns, because under the Shade of such a Cloud, their Lustre cou’d
+only be view’d; the lambent Drowsiness that play’d upon her Face, seem’d
+like a thin Veil not to hide, but to heighten the Beauty which it
+cover’d; her Night-gown hanging loose, discover’d her charming Bosom,
+which cou’d bear no Name, but Transport, Wonder and Extasy, all which
+struck his Soul, as soon as the Object hit his Eye; her Breasts with an
+easy Heaving, show’d the Smoothness of her Soul and of her Skin; their
+Motions were so languishingly soft, that they cou’d not be said to rise
+and fall, but rather to swell up towards Love, the Heat of which seem’d
+to melt them down again; some scatter’d jetty Hairs, which hung
+confus’dly over her Breasts, made her Bosom show like <i>Venus</i>
+caught in <i>Vulcan’s</i> Net, but ’twas the Spectator, not she, was
+captivated. This <i>Dangerfield</i> saw, and all this at once, and with
+Eyes that were adapted by a preparatory Potion; what must then his
+Condition be? He was stricken with such Amazement, that he was forced to
+Support himself, by leaning on <i>Rinaldo’s</i> Arm, who started at his
+sudden Indisposition. ‘I’m afraid, Sir, (said&nbsp;he) you have received
+some Wound in the Duel.’ ‘Oh! Sir, (said&nbsp;he) I&nbsp;am mortally
+wounded’; but recollecting himself after a little Pause, ‘now I am
+better.’ <i>Rinaldo</i> wou’d have sent for a Surgeon to have it
+searched. ‘Your pardon, Sir, (said <i>Dangerfield</i>) my Indisposition
+proceeds
+<span class = "pagenum">434</span>
+from an inward Malady, not by a Sword, but like those made by
+<i>Achilles’s</i> Spear, nothing can cure, but what gave the Wound.’
+<i>Rinaldo</i> guessing at the Distemper, but not the Cause of it, out
+of good Manners declined any further enquiry, but conducting him in,
+entertained him with all the Courtesy imaginable; but in half a Hour,
+a&nbsp;Messenger came from the Senate, requiring his immediate
+Attendance; he lying under an indispensable Necessity of making his
+personal Appearance, begg’d <i>Dangerfield’s</i> Pardon, intreating him
+to stay, and command his House till his return, and conducting him to a
+fine Library, said he might there find Entertainment, if he were
+addicted to Study; adding withal, as a farther Engagement of his
+Patience, that he should meet the Admiral at the Senate, whom he wou’d
+bring home as an Addition to their Company at Dinner. <i>Dangerfield</i>
+needed none of these Motives to stay, being detained by a secret
+Inclination to the Place; walking therefore into the Library,
+<i>Rinaldo</i> went to the Senate. <i>Dangerfield</i> when alone, fell
+into deep Ruminating on his strange Condition, he knew himself in the
+House, with one of his dear Charmers, but durst not hope to see her,
+which added to his Torment; like <i>Tantalus</i> remov’d the farther
+from Happiness, by being nearer to it, contemplated so far on the
+Beauties of that dear Creature, that he concluded, if her Wit were like
+that of his t’other Mistress, he wou’d endeavour to confine his Passion
+wholly to that Object.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean Time, <i>Maria</i> was no less confounded, she knew
+herself in Love with a Stranger, whose Residence was uncertain, she knew
+her own Modesty in concealing it; and alas! she knew her Dumbness
+uncapable of ever revealing it, at least, it must never expect any
+Return; she had gather’d from her Sister’s Discourse, that she was her
+Rival; a&nbsp;Rival, who had the Precedency in Age, as the Advantage in
+Wit, and Intreague, which want of Speech render’d her uncapable of;
+these Reflections, as they drew her farther from the dear Object,
+brought her
+<span class = "pagenum">435</span>
+nearer Despair; her Sister was gone that Morning with her Unkle, the
+Admiral, about two Miles from <i>Venice</i>, to drink some Mineral
+Waters, and <i>Maria</i> finding nothing to divert her, goes down to her
+Father’s Library, to ease her Melancholy by reading. She was in the same
+loose Habit in which she appeared at the Window, her Distraction of
+Thought not permitting her any Care in dressing herself; she enter’d
+whilst <i>Dangerfield’s</i> Thoughts were bent by a full Contemplation
+of her Idea, insomuch that his Surprize represented her as a Phantom
+only, created by the Strength of his Fancy; her depth of Thought had
+cast down her Eyes in a fix’d Posture so low, that she discover’d not
+<i>Dangerfield</i>, till she stood close where he sat, but then so
+sudden an Appearance of what she so lov’d, struck so violently on her
+Spirits, that she fell in a Swoon, and fell directly into
+<i>Dangerfield’s</i> Arms; this soon wakened him from his Dream of
+Happiness, to a Reality of Bliss, he found his Phantom turn’d into the
+most charming Piece of Flesh and Blood that ever was, he found her, whom
+just now he despair’d of seeing; he found her with all her Beauties
+flowing loose in his Arms, the Greatness of the Pleasure rais’d by the
+two heightning Circumstances of Unexpectancy and Surprize, was too large
+for the Capacity of his Soul, he found himself beyond Expression happy,
+but could not digest the Surfeit; he had no sooner Leisure to consider
+on his Joy, but he must reflect on the Danger of her that caus’d it,
+which forced him to suspend his Happiness to administer some Relief to
+her expiring Senses: He had a Bottle of excellent Spirits in his Pocket,
+which holding to her Nose, soon recover’d her; she finding herself in
+the Arms of a Man, and in so loose a Dress, blush’d now more red, than
+she look’d lately pale; and disengaging herself in a Confusion, wou’d
+have flung from him; but he gently detaining her by a precarious Hold,
+threw himself on his Knees, and with the greatest Fervency of Passion
+cry’d out: ‘For
+<span class = "pagenum">436</span>
+Heavens sake, dearest Creature, be not offended at the accidental
+Blessing which Fortune, not Design, hath cast upon me; (She wou’d have
+rais’d him&nbsp;up,) No Madam, (continu’d&nbsp;he) never will I remove
+from this Posture, ’till you have pronounc’d my Pardon; I&nbsp;love you,
+Madam, to that Degree, that if you leave me in a distrust of your Anger,
+I&nbsp;cannot survive it; I&nbsp;beg, intreat, conjure you to speak,
+your Silence torments me worse than your Reproaches cou’d; am I so much
+disdain’d, that you will not afford me one Word?’ The lamentable Plight
+of the wretched Lady every one may guess, but no Body can comprehend;
+she saw the dearest of Mankind prostrate at her Feet, and imploring what
+she wou’d as readily grant as he desire, yet herself under a Necessity
+of denying his Prayers, and her own easy Inclinations. The Motions of
+her Soul, wanting the freedom of Utterance, were like to tear her Heart
+asunder by so narrow a Confinement, like the force of Fire pent up,
+working more impetuously; ’till at last he redoubling his Importunity,
+her Thoughts wanting Conveyance by the Lips, burst out at her Eyes in a
+Flood of Tears; then moving towards a Writing-Desk, he following her
+still on his Knees, amidst her Sighs and Groans she took Pen and Paper,
+writ two Lines, which she gave him folded up, then flinging from him,
+ran up to her Chamber: He strangely surpriz’d at this odd manner of
+Proceeding, opening the Paper, read the following Words:</p>
+
+<div class = "verse ital">
+<p>You can’t my Pardon, nor my Anger move.</p>
+<p>For know, alas! I’m dumb, alas! I love.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>He was wonderfully Amaz’d reading these Words. ‘Dumb, (cried he out)
+naturally Dumb? O&nbsp;ye niggard Powers, why was such a wond’rous Piece
+of Art left imperfect?’ He had many other wild Reasonings upon the
+lamentable Subject, but falling from these to more calm Reflections, he
+examined her Note again, and finding by the last Words that she loved
+him, he might presently
+<span class = "pagenum">437</span>
+imagine, that if he found not some Means of declaring the Continuance of
+his Love, the innocent Lady might conjecture herself slighted, upon the
+Discovery of her Affection and Infirmity: Prompted, by which Thought,
+and animated by the Emotions of his Passion, he ventured to knock at her
+Door; she having by this Time dressed herself, ventured to let him in:
+<i>Dangerfield</i> ran towards her, and catching her with an eager
+Embrace, gave her a thousand Kisses; ‘Madam, (said&nbsp;he) you find
+that pardoning Offences only prepares more, by emboldning the Offender;
+but, I&nbsp;hope, Madam,’ shewing her the Note, ‘this is a general
+Pardon for all Offences of this sort, by which I am so encouraged to
+Transgress, that I shall never cease Crimes of this Nature’; Kissing her
+again. His Happiness was interrupted by <i>Belvideera’s</i> coming Home,
+who running up Stairs, called, ‘Sister, Sister, I&nbsp;have News to tell
+you’: Her Voice alarms <i>Maria</i>, who fearing the Jealousy of
+<i>Belvideera</i>, shou’d she find <i>Dangerfield</i> in her
+Bed-Chamber, made Signs that he shou’d run into the Closet, which she
+had just lock’d as <i>Belvideera</i> came in: ‘Oh, Sister! (said
+<i>Belvideera</i>) in a lucky Hour went I abroad this Morning.’ In a
+more lucky Hour stay’d I at home this Morning, thought <i>Maria</i>. ‘I
+have, (continued she,) been Instrumental in parting two Gentlemen
+fighting this Morning, and what is more, my Father had parted them
+before, when engag’d with the fine <i>English</i> Gentleman we saw at
+the Ball yesterday; but the greatest News of all is, that this fine
+<i>English</i> Gentleman is now in the House, and must Dine here to Day;
+but you must not appear, Sister, because ’twere a Shame to let Strangers
+know that you are Dumb.’ <i>Maria</i> perceived her Jealousy, pointed to
+her Limbs, intimating thereby, that it was as great a Shame for her to
+be seen by Strangers; but she made farther Signs, that since it was her
+Pleasure, she wou’d keep her Chamber all that Day, and not appear
+abroad. <i>Belvideera</i> was extreamly glad of her
+<span class = "pagenum">438</span>
+Resolution, hoping that she shou’d enjoy <i>Dangerfield’s</i>
+Conversation without any Interruption. The Consternation of the Spark in
+the Closet all this while was not little, he heard the Voice of the
+Charmer, that had so captivated him, he found that she was Sister to
+that Lady, whom he just now was making so many Protestations to, but he
+cou’d not imagine how she was Instrumental in parting the two Gentlemen,
+that shou’d have fought him; the Occasion was this:</p>
+
+<p><i>Gonzago</i> and <i>Erizo</i>, parting from <i>Rinaldo</i> and
+<i>Dangerfield</i>, had walk’d towards the <i>Rialto</i>, and both
+exasperated that they had missed their intended Revenge against
+<i>Dangerfield</i>, turned their Fury upon each other, first raising
+their Anger by incensed Expostulations, then drawing their Swords,
+engaged in a desperate Combat, when a Voice very loud calling,
+(<i>Erizo</i>, hold) stopt their Fury to see whence it proceeded; when a
+Coach driving at full Flight stopt close by them, and <i>Francisco</i>
+the <i>Venetian</i> Admiral leaped out with his Sword drawn, saying,
+‘Gentlemen, pray let me be an Instrument of Pacification: As for your
+part, <i>Erizo</i>, this Proceeding suits not well with the Business I
+am to move in Favour of you in the Senate to Day; the Post you sue for
+claims your Blood to be spilt against the common Foe, not in private
+Resentment, to the Destruction of a Citizen; and therefore I intreat you
+as my Friend, or I command you as your Officer, to put up.’
+<i>Erizo</i>, unwilling to disoblige his Admiral, upon whose Favour his
+Advancement depended, told <i>Gonzago</i>, that he must find another
+time to talk with him. ‘No, no, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall
+not part ’till I have reconciled you, and therefore let me know your
+Cause of Quarrel.’ <i>Erizo</i> therefore related to him the whole
+Affair, and mentioning that <i>Dangerfield</i> was gone Home to Dine
+with <i>Rinaldo</i>; ‘With <i>Rinaldo</i> my Father?’ said
+<i>Belvideera</i> from the Coach, overjoy’d with Hopes of seeing
+<i>Dangerfield</i> at Home. ‘Yes, (reply’d <i>Gonzago</i> surpriz’d) if
+<i>Rinaldo</i> the Senator be your Father, Madam.’ ‘Yes, he is,’ reply’d
+<i>Belvideera</i>. <i>Gonzago</i>
+<span class = "pagenum">439</span>
+then knew her to be the Lady he was enamour’d of, and for whom he wou’d
+have fought <i>Dangerfield</i>; and now cursed his ill Fate, that he had
+deny’d <i>Rinaldo’s</i> Invitation, which lost him the Conversation of
+his Mistress, which his Rival wou’d be sure of. ‘Come, come, Gentlemen,
+(said the Admiral) you shall accompany me to see this Stranger at
+<i>Rinaldo’s</i> House, I&nbsp;bear a great Esteem for him, and so it
+behoves every loyal <i>Venetian</i>, for whose Service he hath been so
+signal.’ <i>Erizo</i>, unwilling to deny the Admiral, and <i>Gonzago</i>
+glad of an Opportunity of his Mistress’s Company, which he just now
+thought lost, consented to the Proposal, and mounting all into the
+Coach, the three Gentlemen were set down at the Senate, and the Lady
+drove Home as above-mentioned.</p>
+
+<p><i>Rinaldo</i> in the mean Time was not idle in the Senate, there
+being a Motion made for Election of a Captain to the <i>Rialto</i>
+Galleon, made void by the Death of its former Commander in the late
+Fight, and which was the Post designed by the Admiral for <i>Erizo</i>.
+<i>Rinaldo</i> catching an Opportunity of obliging <i>Dangerfield</i>,
+for whom he entertain’d a great Love and Respect, proposed him as a
+Candidate for the Command, urging his late brave Performance against the
+<i>Turks</i>, and how much it concerned the Interest of the State to
+encourage Foreigners. He being the Admiral’s Brother, and being so
+fervent in the Affair, had by an unanimous Consent his Commission sign’d
+just as his Brother came into the Senate, who fearing how Things were
+carried, comforted <i>Erizo</i> by future Preferment; but <i>Erizo</i>,
+however he stifled his Resentment, was struck with Envy, that a
+Stranger, and his Enemy shou’d be preferred to him, and resolved Revenge
+on the first Opportunity. They all went home with <i>Rinaldo</i>, and
+arrived whilst <i>Belvideera</i> was talking above Stairs with her
+Sister. <i>Rinaldo</i>, impatient to communicate his Success to
+<i>Dangerfield</i>, ran into the Study, where he left him; but missing
+him there, went into the Garden, and searching all about, returned
+<span class = "pagenum">440</span>
+to the Company, telling them he believ’d <i>Dangerfield</i> had fallen
+asleep in some private Arbor in the Garden, where he cou’d not find him,
+or else impatient of his long stay, had departed; but he was sure, if he
+had gone, he wou’d soon return: However they went to Dinner, and
+<i>Belvideera</i> came down, making an Apology for her Sister’s Absence,
+thro’ an Indisposition that had seized her. <i>Gonzago</i> had his
+wished for Opportunity of entertaining his Mistress, whilst she always
+expecting some News of <i>Dangerfield</i>, sat very uneasie in his
+Company; whilst <i>Dangerfield</i> in the Closet, was as impatient to
+see her. The short Discourse she had with her Sister, gave him assurance
+that his Love wou’d not be unacceptable. <i>Maria</i> durst not open the
+Closet, afraid that her Sister shou’d come up every Minute, besides,
+’twas impossible to convey him out of the Chamber undiscovered, untill
+’twas dark, which made him Wonder what occasioned his long Confinement;
+and being tired with sitting, got up to the Window, and softly opening
+the Casement, looked out to take the Air; his Footman walking
+accidentally in the Court, and casting up his Eye that way, spy’d him,
+which confirm’d his Patience in attending for him at the Gate; at length
+it grew Dark, and <i>Maria</i> knowing that her Sister was engag’d in a
+Match at Cards with her Father, <i>Gonzago</i> and <i>Erizo</i>, the
+Admiral being gone, she came softly to the Closet, and innocently took
+<i>Dangerfield</i> by the Hand, to lead him out, he clapt the dear soft
+Hand to his Mouth, and kissing it eagerly, it fired his Blood, and the
+unhappy Opportunity adding to the Temptation, raised him to the highest
+Pitch of Passion; he found himself with the most beautiful Creature in
+the World, one who loved him, he knew they were alone in the Dark, in a
+Bed-chamber, he knew the Lady young and melting, he knew besides she
+cou’d not tell, and he was conscious of his Power in moving; all these
+wicked Thoughts concurring, establish’d him in the Opinion, that this
+was the critical Minute of his Happiness,
+<span class = "pagenum">441</span>
+resolving therefore not to lose it, he fell down on his Knees, devouring
+her tender Hand, sighing out his Passion, begging her to Crown it with
+her Love, making Ten thousand Vows and Protestations of his Secrecy and
+Constancy, urging all the Arguments that the Subtilty of the Devil or
+Man could suggest. She held out against all his Assaults above two
+Hours, and often endeavoured to Struggle from him, but durst make no
+great Disturbance, thro’ fear of Alarming the Company below, at last he
+redoubling his Passion with Sighs, Tears, and all the rest of Love’s
+Artillery, he at last gain’d the Fort, and the poor conquered Lady, all
+panting, soft, and trembling every Joynt, melted by his Embraces, he
+there fatally enjoy’d the greatest Extasy of Bliss, heightned by the
+Circumstances of Stealth, and Difficulty in obtaining. The ruin’d Lady
+now too late deplored the Loss of her Honour; but he endeavour’d to
+Comfort her by making Vows of Secrecy, and promising to salve her
+Reputation by a speedy Marriage, which he certainly intended, had not
+the unhappy <i>Crisis</i> of his Fate been so near. The Company by this
+Time had gone off, and <i>Belvideera</i> had retir’d to her Chamber,
+melancholy that she had missed her Hopes of seeing <i>Dangerfield</i>.
+<i>Gonzago</i> and <i>Erizo</i> going out of the Gate, saw
+<i>Dangerfield’s</i> Footman, whom they knew, since they saw him with
+his Master in the Morning. <i>Gonzago</i> asked him why he waited there?
+‘For my Master, Sir,’ reply’d the Footman. ‘Your Master is not here
+sure,’ said <i>Gonzago</i>. ‘Yes, but he is, Sir,’ said the Servant,
+‘for I attended him hither this Morning with <i>Rinaldo</i>, and saw him
+in the Afternoon look out of a Window above Stairs.’ ‘Ha!’ said
+<i>Gonzago</i>, calling <i>Erizo</i> aside, ‘by Heavens, he lies here to
+Night then, and perhaps with my Mistress; I&nbsp;perceiv’d she was not
+pressing for our Stay, but rather urging our Departure. <i>Erizo</i>,
+<i>Erizo</i>, this Block must be remov’d, he has stepped between you and
+a Command to Day, and perhaps may lye between me and my Mistress
+<span class = "pagenum">442</span>
+to Night.’ ‘By Hell (answered <i>Erizo</i>) thou hast raised a Fury in
+me, that will not be lulled asleep, but by a Potion of his Blood; let’s
+dispatch this Blockhead first’: And running at the Footman, with one
+Thrust killed him. <i>Dangerfield</i> by this time had been let out, and
+hearing the Noise, ran to the Place; they presently assaulted him; he
+defended himself very bravely the space of some Minutes, having wounded
+<i>Gonzago</i> in the Breast; when <i>Rinaldo</i> hearing the Noise,
+came out; but too late for <i>Dangerfield’s</i> Relief, and too soon for
+his own Fate; for <i>Gonzago</i>, exasperated by his Wound, ran
+treacherously behind <i>Dangerfield</i>, and thrust him quite thro’ the
+Body. He finding the mortal Wound, and wild with Rage, thrust
+desperately forward at <i>Erizo</i>, when at the instant <i>Rinaldo</i>
+striking in between to part them, received <i>Dangerfield’s</i> Sword in
+his Body, which pierced him quite thro’. He no sooner fell, than
+<i>Dangerfield</i> perceived his fatal Error, and the other Two fled.
+<i>Dangerfield</i> curs’d his Fate, and begg’d with all the Prayers and
+Earnestness of a dying Man, that <i>Rinaldo</i> wou’d forgive him. ‘Oh!’
+said <i>Rinaldo</i>, ‘you have ill rewarded me for my Care in your
+Concerns in the Senate to Day.’ The Servants coming out, took up
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, and <i>Dangerfield</i> leaning upon his Sword, they led
+him in. <i>Belvideera</i> first heard the Noise, and running down first
+met the horrid Spectacle, her dear Father breathing out his last, and
+her Lover, whom she had all that Day flattered her self with Hopes of
+seeing, she now beheld in Streams of his Blood; but what must poor
+<i>Maria’s</i> Case be? besides the Grief for her Father’s Fate, she
+must view that dear Man, lately Happy in her Embraces, now folded in the
+Arms of Death, she finds herself bereft of a Parent, her Love, her
+Honour, and the Defender of it, all at once; and the greatest Torment
+is, that she must bear all this Anguish, and cannot Ease her Soul by
+expressing it. <i>Belvideera</i> sat wiping the Blood from her Father’s
+Wound, whilst mournful <i>Maria</i> sat by <i>Dangerfield</i>,
+administring
+<span class = "pagenum">443</span>
+all the Help she cou’d to his fainting Spirits; whilst he viewed her
+with greater Excess of Grief, than he had heretofore with Pleasure;
+being sensible what was the Force of her silent Grief, and the Wrong he
+had done her, which now he cou’d never Redress: He had accidentally
+dropt his Wig in the Engagement, and inclining his Head over the Couch
+where he lay, <i>Rinaldo</i> casting his Eye upon him, perceiv’d the
+Mark of a bloody Dagger on his Neck, under his left Ear: ‘Sir, (said
+<i>Rinaldo</i>, raising himself&nbsp;up) I&nbsp;conjure you answer me
+directly, were you born with the Mark of that Dagger, or have you
+received it since by Accident.’ ‘I&nbsp;was certainly born with it,’
+answer’d he. ‘Just such a Mark had my Son <i>Cosmo</i>, who was lost in
+the <i>Adriatick</i>.’ ‘How! (reply’d <i>Dangerfield</i>, starting up
+with a wild Confusion) Lost! say’st thou in the <i>Adriatick</i>? Your
+Son lost in the <i>Adriatick</i>?’ ‘Yes, yes,’ said <i>Rinaldo</i>, ‘too
+surely lost in the <i>Adriatick</i>.’ ‘O ye impartial Powers (said
+<i>Dangerfield</i>), why did you not reveal this before? Or why not
+always conceal it? How happy had been the Discovery some few Hours ago,
+and how Tragical is it now? For know,’ continued he, addressing himself
+to <i>Rinaldo</i>, ‘know that my suppos’d Father, who was a <i>Turky</i>
+Merchant, upon his Death-bed call’d me to him, and told me ’twas time to
+undeceive me, I&nbsp;was not his Son, he found me in the
+<i>Adriatick</i> Sea, ty’d to two Planks in his Voyage from <ins class =
+"correction" title = "text reads ‘Symrna’"><i>Smyrna</i></ins> to
+<i>London</i>; having no Children, he educated me as his own, and
+finding me worth his Care, left me all his Inheritance with this dying
+Command, that I shou’d seek my Parents at <i>Venice</i>.’
+<i>Belvideera</i> hearkning all this while to the lamentable Story, then
+conjectured whence proceeded the natural Affection the whole Family bore
+him, and embracing him, cry’d out, ‘Oh my unhappy Brother.’ <i>Maria</i>
+all the while had strong and wild Convulsions of Sorrow within her,
+’till the working Force of her Anguish racking at once all the Passages
+of her Breast, by a violent Impulse, broke the
+<span class = "pagenum">444</span>
+Ligament that doubled in her Tongue, and she burst out with this
+Exclamation; ‘Oh! Incest, Incest.’ <i>Dangerfield</i> eccho’d that
+Outcry with this, ‘O! Horror, Horror, I&nbsp;have enjoy’d my Sister, and
+murder’d my Father.’ <i>Maria</i> running distracted about the Chamber,
+at last spy’d <i>Dangerfield’s</i> Sword, by which he had supported
+himself into the House, and catching it up, reeking with the Blood of
+her Father, plung’d it into her Heart, and throwing herself into
+<i>Dangerfield’s</i> Arms, calls out, ‘O&nbsp;my Brother, O&nbsp;my
+Love,’ and expir’d. All the Neighbourhood was soon alarm’d by the
+Out-cries of the Family. I&nbsp;lodged within three Doors of
+<i>Rinaldo’s</i> House, and running presently thither, saw a more bloody
+Tragedy in Reality, than what the most moving Scene ever presented; the
+Father and Daughter were both dead, the unfortunate Son was gasping out
+his last, and the surviving Sister most miserable, because she must
+survive such Misfortunes, cry’d to me; ‘O! behold the Fate of your
+wretched Countryman.’ I&nbsp;cou’d make no Answer, being struck dumb by
+the Horror of such woeful Objects; but <i>Dangerfield</i> hearing her
+name his Country, turning towards me, with a languishing and weak Tone,
+‘Madam,’ said he, ‘I&nbsp;was your Countryman, and wou’d to Heavens I
+were so still; if you hear my Story mention’d, on your Return to
+<i>England</i>, pray give these strange Turns of my Fate not the Name of
+Crimes, but favour them with the Epithet of Misfortunes; my Name is not
+Dangerfield, but <i>Cla</i>&mdash;’ His Voice there fail’d him, and he
+presently dy’d; Death seeming more favourable than himself, concealing
+the fatal Author of so many Misfortunes, for I cou’d never since learn
+out his Name; but have done him the justice, I&nbsp;hope, to make him be
+pity’d for his Misfortunes, not hated for his Crimes. <i>Francisco</i>
+being sent for, had <i>Gonzago</i> and <i>Erizo</i> apprehended,
+condemn’d, and executed. <i>Belvideera</i> consign’d all her Father’s
+Estate over to her Uncle, reserving only a Competency to maintain her a
+Recluse all the rest of her Life.</p>
+
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<span class = "pagenum"><i>523</i></span>
+
+<h5><a name = "dumb_notes" id = "dumb_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The Dumb Virgin.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "dumb_comm1" id = "dumb_comm1" href = "#dumb_commtag1">p.
+429</a>
+<i>Dangerfield.</i> This name is not to be found in any one of Mrs.
+Behn’s plays, but as it does occur in Sedley’s <i>Bellamira; or, The
+Mistress</i> (1687), one can only conclude that Aphra gave it to Sir
+Charles and altered her own character’s nomenclature. Mrs. Behn, it may
+be remembered, was more than once extraordinarily careless with regard
+to the names of the Dramatis Personæ in her comedies. A&nbsp;striking
+example occurs in <i>Sir Patient Fancy</i>, where the ‘precise clerk’ is
+called both Abel and Bartholomew. In <i>The Feign’d Curtezans</i> Silvio
+and Sabina are persistently confused, and again, in <i>The Town Fop</i>
+(Vol. III, p.&nbsp;15 and p.&nbsp;20), the name Dresswell is retained
+for Friendlove. Sedley’s <i>Bellamira</i> is derived from Terence’s
+<i>Eunuchus</i>, and Dangerfield is Thraso; the Pyrgopolinices, Miles
+Gloriosus, of Plautus.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<div class = "crossref">
+<h5><a name = "dumb_crossref" id = "dumb_crossref">
+Cross-Reference</a></h5>
+
+<p><a href = "#dumb_intro">Beginning of Introduction</a>: Consanguinity
+and love which are treated in this novel so romantically and with such
+tragic catastrophe had already been dealt with in happier mood by Mrs.
+Behn in <i>The Dutch Lover</i>. <i>Vide</i> Note on the Source of that
+play, Vol.&nbsp;I, p.&nbsp;218.</p>
+
+<p>Vol. I, p. 218, beginning of “Source” section for <i>The Dutch
+Lover</i>:</p>
+
+<p class = "inset">
+Mrs. Behn founded the plot of <i>The Dutch Lover</i> upon the stories
+of Eufemie and Theodore, Don Jame and Frederic, in a pseudo-Spanish
+novel entitled ‘<i>The History of Don Fenise</i>, a&nbsp;new Romance
+written
+in Spanish by Francisco de Las Coveras, And now Englished by a
+Person of Honour, London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley,’ 8vo, 1651.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">445</span>
+<a name = "wandering" id = "wandering">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE WANDERING BEAUTY.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">447</span>
+<h4><a name = "wandering_main" id = "wandering_main">
+THE WANDERING BEAUTY.</a></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">I was</span> not above twelve Years old, as
+near as I can remember, when a Lady of my Acquaintance, who was
+particularly concern’d in many of the Passages, very pleasantly
+entertain’d me with the Relation of the young Lady <i>Arabella’s</i>
+Adventures, who was eldest Daughter to Sir <i>Francis Fairname</i>,
+a&nbsp;Gentleman of a noble Family, and of a very large Estate in the
+West of <i>England</i>, a&nbsp;true Church-Man, a&nbsp;great Loyalist,
+and a most discreetly-indulgent Parent; nor was his Lady any Way
+inferiour to him in every Circumstance of Virtue. They had only two
+Children more, and those were of the soft, unhappy Sex too; all very
+beautiful, especially <i>Arabella</i>, and all very much alike; piously
+educated, and courtly too, of naturally-virtuous Principles and
+Inclinations.</p>
+
+<p>’Twas about the sixteenth Year of her Age, that Sir <i>Robert
+Richland</i>, her Father’s great Friend and inseparable Companion, but
+superiour to him in Estate as well as Years, felt the resistless Beauty
+of this young Lady raging and burning in his aged Veins, which had like
+to have been as fatal to him, as a Consumption, or his Climacterical
+Year of Sixty Three, in which he dy’d, as I am told, though he was then
+hardly Sixty. However, the Winter Medlar would fain have been inoculated
+in the Summer’s Nacturine. His unseasonable Appetite grew so strong and
+inordinate, that he was oblig’d to discover it to Sir <i>Francis</i>;
+who, though he lov’d him very sincerely, had yet a Regard to his
+Daughter’s Youth, and Satisfaction in the Choice of a Husband;
+especially, when he consider’d the great Disproportion in their Age,
+which he rightly imagin’d would be very disagreeable to
+<i>Arabella’s</i> Inclinations:
+<span class = "pagenum">448</span>
+This made him at first use all the most powerful and perswading
+Arguments in his Capacity, to convince Sir <i>Robert</i> of the
+Inequality of such a Match, but all to no Purpose; for his Passion
+increasing each Day more violently, the more assiduously, and with the
+greater Vehemence, he press’d his Friend to use his Interest and
+Authority with his Lady and Daughter, to consent to his almost unnatural
+Proposition; offering this as the most weighty and prevailing Argument,
+(which undoubtedly it was,) That since he was a Batchelor, he would
+settle his whole Estate upon her, if she surviv’d him, on the Day of
+Marriage, not desiring one Penny as a Portion with her. This Discourse
+wrought so powerfully with her Mother, that she promis’d the old Lover
+all the Assistance he could hope or expect from her: In order to which,
+the next Day she acquainted her fair Daughter with the Golden Advantage
+she was like to have, if she would but consent <i>to lye by the
+Parchment that convey’d them to her</i>. The dear, fair Creature, was so
+surpriz’d at this Overture made by her Mother, that her Roses turn’d all
+into Lillies, and she had like to have swoon’d away; but having a
+greater Command of her Passions than usually our Sex have, and chiefly
+Persons of her Age, she, after some little Disorder, which by no Means
+she could dissemble, she made as dutiful a Return to her Mother’s
+Proposition, as her Aversion to it would permit; and, for that Time, got
+Liberty to retreat, and lament in private the Misfortune which she
+partly fore-saw was impending. But her Grief (alas) was no Cure of her
+Malady; for the next Day she was again doubly attack’d by her Father and
+Mother, with all the Reasons that Interest and Duty could urge, which
+she endeavour’d to obviate by all the Arguments that Nature and
+Inclination could offer; but she found them all in vain, since they
+continu’d their ungrateful Solicitations for several Days together, at
+the End of which, they both absolutely
+<span class = "pagenum">449</span>
+commanded her to prepare her self for her Nuptials with Sir
+<i>Robert</i>; so that finding her self under a Necessity of complying,
+or at least of seeming so, she made ’em hope, that her Duty had overcome
+her Aversion; upon which she had a whole Week’s Liberty to walk where
+she would, unattended, or with what Company she pleas’d, and to make
+Visits to whom she had a Mind, either of her Relations or Acquaintance
+thereabouts; tho’ for three or four Days before, she was strictly
+confin’d to her Chamber.</p>
+
+<p>After Dinner, on the third Day of her Enlargement, being Summer Time,
+she propos’d to her Mother that she would take a Walk to a Cousin of
+hers, who liv’d about four Miles thence, to intreat her to be one of her
+Bride-Maids, being then in a careless plain Dress, and having before
+discours’d very pleasantly and freely of her Wedding-Day, of what
+Friends she would have invited to that Solemnity, and what Hospitality
+Sir <i>Robert</i> should keep when she was marry’d to him: All which was
+highly agreeable to her Parents, who then could not forbear thanking and
+kissing her for it, which she return’d to ’em both with a Shower of
+Tears. This did not a little surprize ’em at first, but asking her what
+could cause such Signs of Sorrow, after so chearful a Discourse on the
+late Subject? She answer’d, ‘That the Thoughts of her going now suddenly
+to live from so dear and tender a Father and Mother, were the sole
+Occasion of such Expressions of Grief.’ This affectionate Reply did
+amply satisfy their Doubts; and she presently took Leave of ’em, after
+having desir’d that they would not be uneasy if she should not return
+’till a little before ’twas dark, or if her Cousin should oblige her to
+stay all Night with her; which they took for a discreet Caution in her,
+considering that young Maidens love dearly to talk of Marriage Affairs,
+especially when so near at Hand: And thus easily parted with her, when
+they had walk’d with her about a Mile, over a Field or two of their
+own.</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">450</span>
+<p>Never before that Time was the dear Creature glad that her Father and
+Mother had left her, unless when they had press’d her to a Marriage with
+the old Knight. They were therefore no sooner got out of Sight, e’re she
+took another Path, that led cross the Country, which she persu’d ’till
+past eight at Night, having walk’d ten Miles since two a Clock, when Sir
+<i>Francis</i> and her Mother left her: She was just now got to a little
+Cottage, the poor, but cleanly Habitation of a Husbandman and his Wife,
+who had one only Child, a&nbsp;Daughter, about the Lady
+<i>Arabella’s</i> Age and Stature. ’Twas happy for her she got thither
+before they were a Bed; for her soft and beautiful Limbs began now to be
+tir’d, and her tender Feet to be gall’d. To the good Woman of the House
+she applies her self, desiring Entertainment for that Night, offering
+her any reasonable Satisfaction. The good Wife, at first Sight of her,
+had Compassion of her, and immediately bid her walk in, telling her,
+that she might lye with her Daughter, if she pleas’d, who was very
+cleanly, tho’ not very vine. The good Man of the House came in soon
+after, was very well pleas’d with his new Guest; so to Supper they went
+very seasonably; for the poor young Lady, who was e’en ready to faint
+with Thirst, and not overcharg’d with what she had eaten the Day before.
+After Supper they ask’d her whence she came, and how she durst venture
+to travel alone, and a Foot? To which she reply’d, That she came from a
+Relation who liv’d at <i>Exeter</i>, with whom she had stay’d ’till she
+found she was burthensome: That she was of <i>Welsh</i> Parents, and of
+a good Family; but her Father dying, left a cruel Mother-in-Law, with
+whom she could by no Means continue, especially since she would have
+forc’d her to marry an old Man, whom it was impossible she should love,
+tho’ he was very rich: That she was now going to seek her Fortune in
+<i>London</i>, where she hop’d, at least, to get her a good Service.
+They all seem’d to pity her very heartily; and, in a little
+<span class = "pagenum">451</span>
+Time after, they went to their two several Apartments, in one of which
+<i>Arabella</i> and the Damsel of the House went to Bed, where the young
+Lady slept soundly, notwith&shy;standing the Hardness of her Lodging. In
+the Morning, about Four, according to her laudable Custom, the young
+hardy Maiden got up to her daily Employment; which waken’d
+<i>Arabella</i>, who presently bethought her self of an Expedient for
+her more secure and easy Escape from her Parents Pursuit and Knowledge,
+proposing to her Bedfellow an Exchange of their Wearing-Apparel. The
+Heiress and Hope of that little Family was extreamly fond of the
+Proposal, and ran immediately to acquaint her Mother with it, who was so
+well pleas’d, that she could hardly believe it, when the young Lady
+confirm’d it, and especially, when she understood the Exchange was to be
+made on even Hands. ‘If you be in earnest, Forsooth, (said the Mother)
+you shall e’en have her Sunday-Cloaths.’ ‘Agreed (return’d
+<i>Arabella</i>) but we must change Shifts too; I&nbsp;have now a Couple
+about me, new and clean, I&nbsp;do assure you: For my Hoods and
+Head-dress you shall give me <a class = "comm" name =
+"wandering_commtag1" id = "wandering_commtag1" href =
+"#wandering_comm1">two Pinners</a>, and her best Straw-Hat; and for my
+Shoes, which I have not worn above a Week, I&nbsp;will have her Holliday
+Shoes.’ ‘A&nbsp;Match, indeed, young Mistress,’ cry’d the good Wife. So
+without more Ceremony, the young unhappy Lady was attir’d in her
+Bedfellow’s Country Weeds, by Help of the Mother and Daughter. Then,
+after she had taken her Leave of the good old Man too, she put a broad
+round Shilling into his Wife’s Hand, as a Reward for her Supper and
+Lodging, which she would fain have return’d, but t’other would not
+receive it. ‘Nay, then, by the Mackins, (said her Hostess) you shall
+take a Breakfast e’re you go, and a Dinner along with you, for Fear you
+should be sick by the Way.’ <i>Arabella</i> stay’d to eat a Mess of warm
+Milk, and took some of their Yesterday’s Provision with her in a little
+course Linnen Bag. Then asking for the direct Road to
+<span class = "pagenum">452</span>
+<i>London</i>, and begging a few green Wall-nuts, she took her last
+Farewel of them.</p>
+
+<p>Near Twelve at Noon she came to a pleasant Meadow, through which
+there ran a little Rivulet of clear Water, about nine miles from her
+last Lodging, but quite out of the Way to <i>London</i>. Here she sate
+down, and after drinking some of the Water out of the Hollow of her
+Hand, she open’d her Bag, and made as good a Meal as the Courseness of
+the Fare, and the Niceness of her Appetite would permit: After which,
+she bruis’d the outward green Shells of a Wall-nut or two, and smear’d
+her lovely Face, Hands, and Part of her Arms, with the Juice; then
+looking into the little purling Stream, that seem’d to murmur at the
+Injury she did to so much Beauty, she sigh’d and wept, to think to what
+base Extremities she was now likely to be reduc’d! That she should be
+forc’d to stain that Skin which Heaven had made so pure and white! ‘But
+ah! (cry’d she to her self) if my Disobedience to my Parents had not
+stain’d my Conscience worse, this needed not to have been done.’ Here
+she wept abundantly again; then, drying her Eyes, she wash’d her Feet to
+refresh ’em, and thence continu’d her Journey for ten Miles more, which
+she compass’d by seven a Clock; when she came to a Village, where she
+got Entertainment for that Night, paying for it, and the next Morning,
+before Six, as soon as she had fill’d her little Bag with what good
+Chear the Place afforded, she wander’d on ’till Twelve again, still
+crossing the Country, and taking her Course to the Northern Parts of
+<i>England</i>, which doubtless was the Reason her Father and his
+Servants miss’d of her in their Pursuit; for he imagin’d that for
+certain she had taken her nearest Way to <i>London</i>. After she had
+refresh’d her self for an Hour’s Time by the Side of a Wood, she arose
+and wander’d again near twelve Miles by eight a Clock, and lodg’d at a
+good substantial Farmer’s.</p>
+
+<p>Thus she continu’d her Errantry for above a Fortnight,
+<span class = "pagenum">453</span>
+having no more Money than just thirty Shillings, half of which brought
+her to Sir <i>Christian Kindly’s</i> House in <i>Lancashire</i>. ’Twas
+near five a Clock in the Afternoon when she reach’d that happy Port,
+when, coming to the Hall Door, she enquir’d for the Lady of the House,
+who happily was just coming into the Hall with a little Miss in her
+Arms, of about four Years old, very much troubled with weak and sore
+Eyes: The fair Wanderer, addressing her self to the Lady with all the
+Humility and Modesty imaginable, begg’d to know if her Ladyship had any
+Place in her Family vacant, in which she might do her Service? To which
+the Lady return’d, (by&nbsp;Way of Question) Alas! poor Creature! what
+canst thou do? Any thing, may it please your Ladyship, (reply’d the
+disguis’d Beauty) any thing within my Strength and my Knowledge,
+I&nbsp;mean, Madam. Thou say’st well, (said the Lady) and I’m sorry I
+have not any vacant for thee. I&nbsp;beseech your Ladyship then (said
+<i>Arabella</i>) let me lodge in your Barn to-Night; for I am told it is
+a great Way hence to any Town, and I have but little Money. In my Barn,
+poor Girl! (cry’d the Lady, looking very earnestly on her) ay, God
+forbid else, unless we can find a better Lodging for thee. Art thou
+hungry or thirsty? Yes, Madam (reply’d the wandering Fair One)
+I&nbsp;could both eat and drink, if it please your Ladyship. The Lady
+commanded Victuals and Drink to be brought, and could not forbear
+staying in the Hall ’till she had done; when she ask’d her several
+Questions, as of what Country she was? To which she answer’d truly, of
+<i>Somersetshire</i>. What her Parents were, and if living? To which she
+return’d, They were good, honest, and religious People, and she hop’d
+they were alive, and in as good Health as when she left ’em. After the
+Lady had done catechising her, <i>Arabella</i>, looking on the little
+Child in her Ladyship’s Arms, said, Pardon me, Madam, I&nbsp;beseech
+you, if I am too bold in asking your Ladyship how that pretty Creature’s
+Eyes came to
+<span class = "pagenum">454</span>
+be so bad? By an extream Cold which she took, (reply’d the Lady.)
+I&nbsp;had not presum’d (return’d t’other) to have ask’d your Ladyship
+this Question, were I not assur’d that I have an infallible Cure for the
+Infirmity; and if, Madam, you will be pleas’d to let me apply it,
+I&nbsp;will tell your Ladyship the Remedy in private. The Lady was much
+surpriz’d to hear a young Creature, so meanly habited, talk so
+genteelly; and after surveying her very strictly, said the Lady, Have
+you ever experienc’d it before? Yes, Madam (reply’d the fair Physician)
+and never without happy Success: I&nbsp;dare engage, Madam, (added she)
+that I will make ’em as well as my own, by God’s Blessing, or else I
+will be content to lose mine, which Heaven forbid. Amen, (cry’d the good
+Lady) for they are very fine ones, on my Word.&mdash;Stay, Child,
+I&nbsp;will desire Sir <i>Christian</i> to hear it with me; and if he
+approves it, you shall about it; and if it take good Effect, we will
+endeavour to requite the Care and Pains it shall cost you. Saying thus,
+she immediately left her, and return’d very speedily with Sir
+<i>Christian</i>, who having discours’d <i>Arabella</i> for some time,
+with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, took her into the Parlour with his
+Lady, where she communicated her Secret to ’em both; which they found so
+innocent and reasonable, that they desir’d her to prepare it as soon as
+possible, and to make her Application of it with all convenient Speed;
+which she could not do ’till the next Morning. In the mean Time she was
+order’d a Lodging with the House-Maid, who reported to her Lady, That
+she found her a very sweet and cleanly Bed-fellow; (adding) That she
+never saw nor felt so white, so smooth, and soft a Skin. <i>Arabella</i>
+continu’d her Remedy with such good Success, that in a Fortnight’s Time
+little Miss’s Eyes were as lively and strong as ever. This so endear’d
+her to the Knight and his Lady, that they created a new Office in their
+Family, purposely for her, which was, Attendant on their eldest Daughter
+<i>Eleanora</i>, a&nbsp;Lady much about her
+<span class = "pagenum">455</span>
+Years and Stature; who was so charm’d with her Conversation, that she
+could not stir Abroad, nor eat, nor sleep, without <i>Peregrina
+Goodhouse</i> (for those were the Names she borrow’d:) Nor was her
+Modesty, Humility, and Sweetness of Temper, less engaging to her
+Fellow-Servants, who all strove which should best express their Love to
+her. On Festival-Days, and for the Entertainment of Strangers, she would
+lend her helping Hand to the Cook, and make the Sauce for every Dish,
+though her own Province was only to attend the young Lady, and prepare
+the Quidlings, and other Sweet-Meats, for the Reception of Sir
+<i>Christian’s</i> Friends; all which she did to Admiration. In this
+State of easy Servitude she liv’d there for near three Years, very well
+contented at all Times, but when she bethought her self of her Father,
+Mother, and Sisters, courted by all the principal Men-Servants, whom she
+refus’d in so obliging a Manner, and with such sweet, obliging Words,
+that they could not think themselves injur’d, though they found their
+Addresses were in vain. Mr. <i>Prayfast</i>, the Chaplain himself, could
+not hold out against her Charms. For her Skin had long since recover’d
+its native Whiteness; nor did she need Ornaments of Cloaths to set her
+Beauty off, if any Thing could adorn her, since she was dress’d
+altogether as costly, though not so richly (perhaps) as <i>Eleanora</i>.
+<i>Prayfast</i> therefore found that the Spirit was too weak for the
+Flesh, and gave her very broad Signs of his Kindness in Sonnets,
+Anagrams, and Acrosticks, which she receiv’d very obligingly of him,
+taking a more convenient Time to laugh at ’em with her young Lady.</p>
+
+<p>Her kind Reception of them encourag’d him to that Degree, that within
+a few Days after, supposing himself secure on her Side, he apply’d
+himself to the good old Knight, his Patron, for his Consent to a
+Marriage with her, who very readily comply’d with his Demands, esteeming
+it a very advantagious Match for <i>Peregrina</i>, and withal
+<span class = "pagenum">456</span>
+told him, That he would give him three hundred Pounds with her, besides
+the first Benefit that should fall in his Gift. But (said&nbsp;he) as I
+doubt not that you are sufficiently acquainted with her Virtues and
+other excellent Qualifications, ’tis necessary that you should know the
+worst that I can tell you of her, which is, that she came to us a meer
+Stranger, in a very mean, tho’ cleanly Habit; and therefore, as she
+confesseth, we may conclude, of very humble, yet honest Parentage. A!
+(possibly) her Father might have been, or is, some Husbandman, or
+somewhat inferiour to that; for we took her up at the Door, begging one
+Night’s Entertainment in the Barn. How, Sir! (cry’d <i>Prayfast</i>,
+starting) have you no better Knowledge of her Birth, than what you are
+pleas’d to discover now? No better, nor more (reply’d the Knight.) Alas!
+Sir, then (return’d the proud canonical Sort of a Farmer) she is no Wife
+for me; I&nbsp;shall dishonour my Family by marrying so basely. Were you
+never told any Thing of this before? (ask’d the Knight.) You know, Sir,
+(answer’d the Prelate that would&nbsp;be) that I have not had the Honour
+to officiate, as your Chaplain, much more than half a Year; in which
+Time, ’tis true, I&nbsp;have heard that she was receiv’d as a Stranger;
+but that she came in so low a Capacity I never learn’d ’till now.
+I&nbsp;find then, Parson, (said the Knight) that you do not like the
+Author of your Happiness, at least, who might be so, because she comes
+to you in such an humble Manner; I&nbsp;tell you the <i>Jews</i> are
+miserable for the same Reason. She cannot be such perfectly to me
+(return’d t’other) without the Advantage of good Birth. With that I’m
+sure she would not, return’d his Patron, and left him to go to
+<i>Peregrina</i>, whom he happily found alone. Child, (said he to her)
+have you any Obligation to Mr. <i>Prayfast</i>? As how, Sir? She ask’d.
+Do you love him? Have you made him any Promise of Marriage? Or has he
+any Way engag’d himself to you? Neither, Sir, (she answer’d.) ’Tis true,
+I&nbsp;love him as my Fellow-Servant, no otherwise. He has
+<span class = "pagenum">457</span>
+indeed been somewhat lavish of his Wit and Rhimes to me, which serv’d
+well enough to divert my young Lady and me. But of all Mankind, perhaps,
+he should be the last I would choose for a Husband. I&nbsp;thought (said
+the good-humour’d old Knight) that he had already obtain’d a Promise
+from you, since he came but just now to ask my Consent, which I freely
+gave him at first, upon that Thought; but he is doubtful of your Birth,
+and fears it may dishonour his Family, if he should marry you. On my
+Word, Sir, (return’d <i>Peregrina</i>, blushing with Disdain, no doubt)
+our Families are by no Means equal. What thy Family is, I&nbsp;know not;
+(said Sir <i>Christian</i>) but I am sure thou art infinitely superiour
+to him in all the natural Embelishments both of Body and Mind. Be just
+to thy self, and be not hasty to wed: Thou hast more Merit than Wealth
+alone can purchase. O! dear Sir, (she return’d) you ruin me with
+Obligations never to be re-paid, but in Acknowledgment, and that
+imperfectly too. Here they were interrupted by the young Lady, to whom
+she repeated the Conference betwixt Sir <i>Christian</i> and
+<i>Prayfast</i>, as soon as ever Sir <i>Christian</i> left the Room.</p>
+
+<p>About a Week after, Sir <i>Lucius Lovewell</i>, (a young Gentleman,
+of a good Presence, Wit, and Learning enough, whose Father, dying near a
+Twelve-month before, had left him upwards of 3000<i>l.</i> a Year,
+which, too, was an excellent Accomplishment, tho’ not the best; for he
+was admirably good-humour’d) came to visit Sir <i>Christian Kindly</i>;
+and, as some of the Family imagin’d, ’twas with Design to make his
+Addresses to the young Lady, Sir <i>Christian’s</i> Daughter. Whatever
+his Thoughts were, his Treatment, there, was very generous and kind. He
+saw the Lady, and lik’d her very well; nay, doubtless, would have
+admitted a Passion for her, had not his Destiny at the same Time shewn
+him <i>Peregrina</i>. She was very beautiful, and he as sensible; and
+’tis not to be doubted, but that he immediately took Fire. However, his
+Application
+<span class = "pagenum">458</span>
+and Courtship, free and unaffected, were chiefly directed to Sir
+<i>Christian’s</i> Daughter: Some little Respects he paid to
+<i>Peregrina</i>, who could not choose but look on him as a very fine,
+good-humour’d, and well-accomplish’d Gentleman. When the Hour came that
+he thought fit to retreat, Sir <i>Christian</i> ask’d him, When he would
+make ’em happy again in his Conversation? To which he return’d, That
+since he was not above seven or eight Miles from him, and that there
+were Charms so attractive at Sir <i>Christian’s</i>, he should take the
+Liberty to visit him sooner and oftener than he either expected or
+desir’d. T’other reply’d, That was impossible; and so, without much more
+Ceremony, he took his Leave of that delightful Company for two or three
+Days; at the End of which he return’d, with Thoughts much different from
+those at his first Coming thither, being strongly agitated by his
+Passion for <i>Peregrina</i>. He took and made all the Opportunities and
+Occasions that Chance and his own Fancy could offer and present to talk
+to her, both before, at, and after Dinner; and his Eyes were so
+constantly fix’d on her, that he seem’d to observe nothing else; which
+was so visible to Sir <i>Christian</i>, his Lady, and Daughter, that
+they were convinc’d of their Error, in believing, that he came to make
+his Court to the young Lady. This late Discovery of the young Knight’s
+Inclinations, was no Way unpleasant to Sir <i>Christian</i> and his
+Lady; and to the young Lady it was most agreeable and obliging, since
+her Heart was already pre-engag’d elsewhere; and since she did equally
+desire the good fortune of her beautiful Attendant with her own.</p>
+
+<p>The Table was no sooner clear’d, and a loyal Health or two gone
+round, e’re Sir <i>Christian</i> ask’d his young amorous Guest to take a
+Walk with him in the Gardens: To which Sir <i>Lucius</i> readily
+consented, designing to disclose that to him for a Secret, which was but
+too apparent to all that were present at Table: When therefore he
+<span class = "pagenum">459</span>
+thought he had sufficiently admir’d and commended the Neatness of the
+Walks and Beauty of the Flowers, he began, to this Effect:</p>
+
+<p>Possibly, Sir <i>Christian</i>, I shall surprize you with the
+Discourse I’m going to make you; but ’tis certain no Man can avoid the
+Necessity of the Fate which he lies under; at least I have now found it
+so.&mdash;I&nbsp;came at first, Sir, with the Hopes of prevailing on you
+to honour and make me happy in a Marriage with Madam <i>Eleanora</i>
+your Daughter; but at the same Instant I was seiz’d with so irresistable
+a Passion for the charming <i>Peregrina</i>, that I find no Empire,
+Fame, nor Wit, can make me perfectly bless’d here below, without the
+Enjoyment of that beautiful Creature. Do not mistake me, Sir,
+(I&nbsp;beseech you, continu’d&nbsp;he) I&nbsp;mean an <i>honourable
+Enjoyment</i>.&mdash;I&nbsp;will make her my Wife, Sir, if you will be
+generously pleas’d to use your Interest with her on my Part.</p>
+
+<p>To which the good old Knight reply’d, What you think (Sir) you have
+now imparted as a Secret, has been the general Observation of all my
+Family, e’re since you gave us the Happiness of your Company to Day:
+Your Passion is too great to be disguis’d; and I am extremely pleas’d,
+that you can think any Thing in my House worthy the Honour you intend
+<i>Peregrina</i>. Indeed, had you made any particular and publick
+Address to my Daughter, I&nbsp;should have believ’d it want of Merit in
+her, or in us, her Parents, that you should, after that, quit your
+Pretensions to her, without any willing or known Offence committed on
+our Side. I&nbsp;therefore (Sir) approve your Choice, and promise you my
+utmost Assistance afar. She is really virtuous in all the Latitude of
+Virtue; her Beauty is too visible to be disputed ev’n by Envy it self:
+As for her Birth, she best can inform you of it; I&nbsp;must only let
+you know, that, as her Name imports, she was utterly a Stranger, and
+entertain’d by us in pure Charity. But the Antiquity and Honour of your
+Family can receive no Diminution
+<span class = "pagenum">460</span>
+by a Match with a beautiful and virtuous Creature, for whom, you say,
+and I believe, you have so true a Passion. I&nbsp;have now told you the
+worst (Sir) that I know of her; but your Wealth and Love may make you
+both eternally happy on Earth. And so they shall, <i>by her dear
+self</i>, (return’d the amorous Knight) if both of ’em may recommend me
+to her, with your Perswasions added, which still I beg. Say, rather you
+command; and with those three hundred Pounds which I promis’d her, if
+she marry’d with my Consent to Mr. <i>Prayfast</i>.</p>
+
+<p>To this, the other smiling, reply’d, Her Person and Love is all I
+court or expect, Sir: But since you have thought her worthy of so great
+an Expression of your Favour and Kindness, I&nbsp;will receive it with
+all Humility as is from a Father, which I shall ever esteem
+you.&mdash;But see, Sir, (cry’d he in an Extasy) how she comes, led by
+Madam <i>Eleanora</i>, your Daughter. The young Lady coming to him,
+began thus: I&nbsp;know (Sir) ’tis my Father and Mother’s Desire and
+Ambition to shew you the heartiest Welcome in their Power, which can by
+no Means be made appear so particularly and undisputably, as by
+presenting you with what you like best in the Family: In Assurance
+therefore that I shall merit their Favour by this Act, I&nbsp;have
+brought your dear <i>Peregrina</i> to you, not without Advice, and some
+Instructions of mine, that may concern her Happiness with you, if
+discreetly observ’d and persu’d by her. In short, (Sir) I&nbsp;have told
+her, that a Gentleman of so good a Figure, such excellent Parts, and
+generous Education, of so ancient and honourable a Family, together with
+so plentiful an Estate as you at present possess, is capable of bringing
+Happiness to any, the fairest Lady in this Country at least.
+O&nbsp;Madam! (return’d Sir <i>Lucius</i>) your Obligation is so great,
+that I want Sense to receive it as I ought; much more Words to return
+you any proportionable Acknowledgment of it. But give me Leave to say
+thus much, Madam; that my Thoughts of
+<span class = "pagenum">461</span>
+making my Court to your Ladiship, first invited me to give Sir
+<i>Christian</i>, your Father, the Trouble of a Visit, since the Death
+of mine. However, the over-ruling Powers have thought to divert my
+Purpose, and the offering of my Heart, which can never rest, but with
+this dear charming Creature.&mdash;Your Merits, Madam&mdash;are
+sufficient for the Gentleman on whom I entirely fix’d my Affections,
+before you did me the Honour and your self the Trouble of your first
+Visit (interrupted Sir <i>Christian’s</i> Daughter.) And now, Sir,
+(added she to her Father) if you please, let us leave ’em to make an End
+of this Business between themselves. No, Madam, (cry’d Sir
+<i>Lucius</i>) your Father has promis’d me to make Use of his Interest
+with her for my Sake. This I now expect, Sir. Then (said the old Knight)
+thou dear beautiful and virtuous Stranger! if I have any Power to
+perswade thee, take my Advice, and this honourable Gentleman to thy
+loving Husband; I’m sure he’ll prove so to thee. If I could command thee
+I would. Ah Sir! (said she, kneeling, with Tears falling from her
+charming Eyes) I&nbsp;know none living that has greater Right and
+Power.&mdash;But (alas Sir!) this honourable Person knows not the
+Meanness of my Birth, at least, he cannot think it any Way
+proportionable or suitable to his. O&nbsp;thou dear Creature, (cry’d her
+Lover, setting one Knee to the Ground, and taking her&nbsp;up) Sir
+<i>Christian</i> has already discours’d all thy Circumstances to me:
+Rise and bless me with thy Consent. I&nbsp;must ask my Lady’s, Sir, (she
+reply’d.) See, here my Mother comes (said the young Lady) and entreated
+her good Word for Sir <i>Lucius</i>. The good ancient Lady began then to
+use all the Arguments to incline her to yield to her Happiness; and, in
+fine, she was prevail’d on to say, I&nbsp;do consent, and will endeavour
+to deserve the honourable Title of your dutiful Wife, Sir. ’Twas with no
+common Joy and Transport that he receiv’d her Hand, and kiss’d those
+dear Lips that gave him an Assurance of his Happiness; which he resolv’d
+<span class = "pagenum">462</span>
+should begin about a Month or two afterwards; in which Time he might
+send Orders to <i>London</i> for the making their Wedding Cloaths. Into
+the House then they all went, Sir <i>Lucius</i> leading
+<i>Peregrina</i>, and the first they met of the Family was
+<i>Prayfast</i>, who was not a little surpriz’d nor discompos’d at that
+Sight; and more especially when Sir <i>Christian</i> told him, That tho’
+he did not think that beautiful sweet Stranger worthy the Title of his
+Wife, yet now he should be oblig’d to join her to that honourable
+Person. The Slave bow’d, and look’d very pale.</p>
+
+<p>All Things were at last got ready for the Consummation of their
+Bliss, and <i>Prayfast</i> did their Business effectually, tho’ much
+against his Will; however he receiv’d the Reward of twenty Broad Pieces.
+The Wedding was kept for a Week at Sir <i>Christian’s</i> House; after
+which they adjourn’d to the Bridegroom’s, where it lasted as long as Sir
+<i>Christian</i>, his Lady, Daughter, and the rest of that Family would
+stay. As they were leaving him, Sir <i>Lucius</i> dispos’d of two
+hundred Pounds amongst Sir <i>Christian’s</i> Servants, and the rest of
+the three hundred he distributed among the Poor of both Parishes.</p>
+
+<p>When they were gone, the affectionate tender Bridegroom could by no
+Means be perswaded by any Gentlemen, his Neighbours, to hunt with ’em,
+or to take any Divertisement, tho’ but for half a Day; esteeming it the
+highest Unkindness imaginable to leave his Lady: Not that she could be
+alone neither in his Absence; for she never wanted the Visits of all the
+Ladies round about, and those of the best Quality; who were equally
+charm’d with her Sweetness of Temper, as the Men were with her outward
+Beauties. But in a Month’s time, or thereabout, observing that he was
+continually solicited and courted to some Sport or Pastime with those
+Gentlemen of his Neighbourhood, she was forc’d to do her self the
+Violence to beg of him that he would divert himself with ’em, as before
+their Marriage he us’d: And she had so good
+<span class = "pagenum">463</span>
+Success, that he did allow himself two Days in the Week to hunt: In one
+of which, coming Home about five a Clock, and not finding his Lady below
+Stairs, he went directly up to her Chamber, where he saw her leaning her
+Head on her Hand, and her Handkerchief all bath’d in Tears. At this
+Sight he was strangely amaz’d and concern’d. Madam, (cry’d he in an
+unusual Tone) what means such Postures as these? Tell me! For I must
+know the Occasion. Surpriz’d, and trembling at this his unwonted Manner
+of saluting her, she started up, and then, falling on her Knees, she
+wept out, O&nbsp;thou dear Author and Lord of all my Joys on Earth! Look
+not, I&nbsp;beseech you, so wildly, nor speak terribly to me! Thou
+Center of all my Happiness below, (return’d&nbsp;he) rise, and make me
+acquainted with the dreadful Occasion of this afflicting and tormenting
+Sight! All you shall know, (she reply’d) dearest of human Blessings! But
+sit, and change your Looks; then I can speak. Speak then, my Life,
+(said&nbsp;he) but tell me all; all I must know. Is there a Thought
+about my Soul that you shall not partake? I’m sure there is not;
+(he&nbsp;reply’d) say on then. You know, Sir, (she return’d) that I have
+left my Parents now three Years, or thereabouts, and know not whether
+they are living or dead: I&nbsp;was reflecting, therefore, on the
+Troubles which my undutiful and long Absence may have caus’d them; for
+poor and mean as they may be, they well instructed me in all good
+Things; and I would once more, by your dear Permission, see them, and
+beg their Pardon for my Fault; for they are my Parents still, if living,
+Sir, though (unhappily) not worth your Regard. How! (cry’d&nbsp;he) can
+that Pair who gave my Dearest Birth, want my Regard, or ought I can do
+for them? No! thou shalt see them, and so will I: But tell me,
+<i>Peregrina</i>, is this the only Cause of your Discomposure? So may I
+still be bless’d in your dear Love, (she reply’d) as this is Truth, and
+all the Cause. When shall we see them, then? (he&nbsp;ask’d).
+<span class = "pagenum">464</span>
+We see them, (cry’d she) O! your Goodness descends too much; and you
+confound me with your unmerited and unexpected Kindness. ’Tis I alone
+that have offended, and I alone am fit to see them. That must not be;
+(return’d her affectionate Husband) no, we’ll both go together; and if
+they want, either provide for them there, or take them hither with us.
+Your Education shews their Principles, and ’tis no Shame to own virtuous
+Relations. Come, dry thy dear lamenting Eyes; the Beginning of the next
+Week we’ll set forwards. Was ever Disobedience so rewarded with such a
+Husband? (said she) those Tears have wash’d that childish Guilt away;
+and there is no Reward above thy Virtue.</p>
+
+<p>In a few Days, Monday began the Date of their Journey to the
+<i>West</i> of <i>England</i>; and in five or six Days more, by the Help
+of a Coach and Six, they got to <i>Cornwall</i>; where, in a little
+Town, of little Accommodation, they were oblig’d to take up their
+Lodgings the first Night. In the Morning (said his Lady to him) My Dear,
+about a Mile and a half hence lives one Sir <i>Francis Fairname</i> and
+his Lady, if yet they be living, who have a very fine House, and worth
+your seeing; I&nbsp;beg of you therefore, that you will be so kind to
+your self as to walk thither, and dine with the old Gentleman; for that
+you must, if you see him; whilst I stay here, and send to my Father and
+Mother, if to be found, and prepare them to receive you at your Return.
+I&nbsp;must not have no Denial; (added she) for if you refuse this
+Favour, all my Designs are lost.&mdash;Make Haste, my Life; ’tis now
+eleven a Clock; In your Absence I’ll dress, to try if Change of Cloaths
+can hide me from them. This was so small a Request, that he did not stay
+to reply to’t, but presently left her, and got thither in less than half
+an Hour, attended only by one Footman. He was very kindly and
+respectfully receiv’d by the old Gentleman, who had certainly been a
+very beautiful Person in his Youth; and Sir <i>Lucius</i>, fixing his
+Eyes upon his Face,
+<span class = "pagenum">465</span>
+could hardly remove ’em, being very pleasantly and surprisingly
+entertain’d with some Lines that he observ’d in it. But immediately
+recollecting himself, he told him, that having heard how fine a Seat
+that was, his Curiosity led him to beg the Favour that he might see it.
+The worthy old Knight return’d, that his House and all the
+Accommodations in it were at his Service: So inviting him in, he
+satisfy’d his pretended Curiosity; and after he had shewn all that was
+worthy the Sight of a Stranger, in the House, he led him into his
+Gardens, which furnish’d Sir <i>Lucius</i> with new Matter of
+Admiration; whence the old Knight brought him into the Parlour, telling
+him, that ’twas his Custom to suffer no Stranger to return, till he had
+either din’d or supp’d with him, according as the Hour of the Day or
+Night presented.</p>
+
+<p>’Twas here the affectionate Husband was strangely surpriz’d at the
+Sight of a Picture, which so nearly counterfeited the Beauties of his
+dear-lov’d Lady, that he stood like an Image himself, gazing and
+varying; the Colours of his Face agitating by the Diversity of his
+Thoughts; which Sir <i>Francis</i> perceiving, ask’d him, What it was
+that so visibly concern’d him? To which he reply’d, That indeed he was
+concern’d, but with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, since he had never
+seen any Thing more beautiful than that Picture, unless it were a Lady
+for whom he had the most sincere Affection imaginable, and whom it did
+very nearly represent; and then enquir’d for whom that was drawn? Sir
+<i>Francis</i> answer’d him, ’Twas design’d for one who was, I&nbsp;dare
+not say who is, my Daughter; and the other two were drawn for her
+younger Sisters. And see, Sir, (persu’d&nbsp;he) here they come,
+following their Mother: At which Words Sir <i>Lucius</i> was oblig’d to
+divorce his Eyes from the charming Shadow, and make his Compliments to
+them; which were no sooner over than Dinner was serv’d in, where the
+young Knight eat as heartily as he could, considering he sate just
+opposite to it, and in
+<span class = "pagenum">466</span>
+Sight of the two Ladies, who were now exactly like his own Wife, though
+not so very beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>The Table being uncover’d, Sir <i>Lucius</i> desir’d to know why Sir
+<i>Francis</i> said, He doubted whether the Original of that Picture
+were yet his Daughter? To which the Mother return’d (big with Sorrow,
+which was seen in her Tears) That her Husband had spoken but too
+rightly: For (added she) ’tis now three Years since we have either seen
+her or heard from her. How, Madam! three Years, (cry’d Sir
+<i>Lucius</i>) I believe I can shew your Ladiship a dear Acquaintance of
+mine, so wonderfully like that Picture, that I am almost perswaded she
+is the very Original; only (pardon me, Madam) she tells me her Parents
+are of mean Birth and Fortune. Dear Sir, (cry’d the tender Mother) Is
+she in this Country? She is not two Miles hence, reply’d Sir
+<i>Lucius</i>. By all Things most dear to you, Sir, (said the Lady) let
+us be so happy as to see her, and that with all convenient Expedition!
+for it will be a Happiness to see any Creature, the only Like my dearest
+<i>Arabella</i>. <i>Arabella</i>, Madam! alas! No, Madam, her Name is
+<i>Peregrina</i>. No Matter for Names, Sir, (cry’d the Lady) I&nbsp;want
+the Sight of the dear Creature. Sir, (added the worthy old Knight)
+I&nbsp;can assure you it will be an eternal Obligation to us; or, if you
+please, we will wait on you to her. By no Means, Sir, (return’d Sir
+<i>Lucius</i>) I will repeat my Trouble to you with her, in an Hour at
+farthest. We shall desire the Continuance of such Trouble as long as we
+live, reply’d Sir <i>Francis</i>. So, without farther Ceremony, Sir
+<i>Lucius</i> left ’em and return’d to his Lady, whom he found ready
+dress’d, as he wish’d he might. Madam, (said&nbsp;he) where are your
+Father and Mother? I&nbsp;know not, yet, my Dear, she reply’d. Well,
+(return’d&nbsp;he) we will expect ’em, or send for ’em hither at Night;
+in the mean Time I have engag’d to bring you with me to Sir <i>Francis
+Fairname</i> and his Lady, with all imaginable Expedition. So
+immediately, as soon as Coach and Six
+<span class = "pagenum">467</span>
+and Equipage was ready, he hurry’d her away with him to Sir
+<i>Francis</i>, whom they found walking with his Lady and two Daughters
+in the outward Court, impatiently expecting their Coming. The Boot of
+the Coach (for that was the Fashion in those Days) was presently let
+down, and Sir <i>Lucius</i> led his Lady forwards to them; who coming
+within three or four Paces of the good old Knight, his Lady fell on her
+Knees, and begg’d their Pardon and Blessing. Her affectionate Father
+answer’d ’em with Tears from his Eyes; but the good ancient Lady was so
+overcome with Joy, that she fell into a Swoon, and had like to have been
+accompany’d by her Daughter, who fell upon her Knees by her, and with
+her Shrieks recall’d her, when she strait cry’d out, My Daughter, my
+Daughter’s come again! my <i>Arabella</i> alive! Ay, my dear offended
+Mother! with all the Duty and Penitence that Humanity is capable of,
+return’d the Lady <i>Lovewell</i>. Her Sisters then express’d their Love
+in Tears, Embraces, and Kisses, while her dear Husband begg’d a Blessing
+of her Parents, who were very pleasantly surpriz’d, to know that their
+Daughter was so happily marry’d, and to a Gentleman of such an Estate
+and Quality as Sir <i>Lucius</i> seem’d to be: ’Twas late that Night
+e’er they went to Bed at Sir <i>Francis’s</i>. The next Day, after they
+had all pretty well eas’d themselves of their Passions, Sir
+<i>Francis</i> told his Son-in-Law, that as he had three Daughters, so
+he had 3000<i>l.</i> a Year, and he would divide it equally among ’em;
+but for Joy of the Recovery of his eldest Daughter, and her fortunate
+Match with so worthy a Gentleman as Sir <i>Lucius</i>, who had given him
+an Account of his Estate and Quality, he promis’d him ten thousand
+Pounds in ready Money besides; whereas the other young Ladies were to
+have but five thousand a Piece, besides their Dividend of the Estate.
+And now, (said&nbsp;he) Daughter, the Cause of your Retreat from us, old
+Sir <i>Robert Richland</i>, has been dead these three Months, on such a
+Day. How, Sir, (cry’d she) on such a Day!
+<span class = "pagenum">468</span>
+that was the very Day on which I was so happy as to be marry’d to my
+dear Sir <i>Lucius</i>.</p>
+
+<p>She then gave her Father, and Mother, and Sisters, a Relation of all
+that had happen’d to her since her Absence from her dear Parents, who
+were extremely pleas’d with the Account of Sir <i>Christian</i> and his
+Lady’s Hospitality and Kindness to her; and in less than a Fortnight
+after, they took a Journey to Sir <i>Lucius’s</i>, carrying the two
+other young Ladies along with ’em; and, by the Way, they call’d at Sir
+<i>Christian’s</i>, where they arriv’d Time enough to be present the
+next Day at Sir <i>Christian’s</i> Daughter’s Wedding, which they kept
+there for a whole Fortnight.</p>
+
+<h4 class = "final">FINIS.</h4>
+
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<span class = "pagenum"><i>523</i></span>
+
+<h5><a name = "wandering_notes" id = "wandering_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The Wandering Beauty.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "wandering_comm1" id = "wandering_comm1" href =
+"#wandering_commtag1">p. 451</a>
+<i>two Pinners</i>. A pinner is ‘a coif with two long flaps one on each
+side pinned on and hanging down, and sometimes fastened at the breast
+.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. sometimes applied to the flaps as an adjunct of the
+coif.’&mdash;<i>N.E.D.</i> cf. Pepys, 18 April, 1664: ‘To Hyde Park
+.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and my Lady Castlemaine in a coach by herself, in yellow
+satin and a pinner&nbsp;on.’</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">469</span>
+<a name = "unhappy" id = "unhappy">&nbsp;</a>
+
+
+<h3>THE UNHAPPY MISTAKE; OR,<br>
+THE IMPIOUS VOW PUNISH’D.</h3>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">471</span>
+<h4><a name = "unhappy_main" id = "unhappy_main">
+THE UNHAPPY MISTAKE, <i>&amp;c.</i></a></h4>
+
+
+<p><span class = "firstword">The</span> Effects of Jealousy have ever
+been most fatal; and it is certainly one of the most tormenting Passions
+that an human Soul can be capable of, tho’ it be created by the least
+Appearances of Reason: The Truth of which this following Story will
+evince.</p>
+
+<p>Sir <i>Henry Hardyman</i> was a Gentleman of a very large Estate in
+<i>Somersetshire</i>, of a very generous Temper, hospitable almost to
+<i>Extravagancy</i>; a <i>plain down-right Dealer, wonderfully
+good-natur’d</i>, but very <i>passionate</i>: Whose Lady dying, left him
+only a Son and a Daughter; between whom there were about six Years
+Difference in their Age. <i>Miles Hardyman</i> (for so the Son was
+call’d) being the eldest; both of naturally virtuous Inclinations, which
+were carefully improv’d by a generous and pious Education. <i>Miles</i>
+was a very tall, large, and well-proportion’d Person at Two and Twenty;
+brave and active, and seem’d to be born for War, tho’ he had a Heart as
+tender and capable of receiving the Impressions of Love as any of our
+Sex. He had been bred for some Years at the University; where, among
+other Things, he learn’d to fence; in which, however, he was mightily
+improv’d in a Twelvemonth’s Time that he stay’d here in Town.
+<i>Lucretia</i>, his Sister, was beautiful enough, her Father designing
+to give ten thousand Pounds with her on Marriage; but (which is above
+all) she was incomparably good-humour’d.</p>
+
+<p>At his Return to his Father in the Country, young <i>Hardyman</i>
+found Madam <i>Diana Constance</i>, a&nbsp;most beautiful Lady, with his
+Sister, at that Time about 16 Years old;
+<span class = "pagenum">472</span>
+somewhat tall of her Age, of happy and virtuous <ins class =
+"correction" title = "text has . for ,">Education,</ins> of an
+indifferent Fortune, not exceeding two thousand Pounds, which was no Way
+answerable to the Expectations he had after his Father’s Death; but it
+was impossible he should not love her, she was so prodigiously charming
+both in her inward and outward Excellencies; especially since he had the
+Opportunity of conversing with her at his Father’s for above a Month.
+’Tis true, he had seen her before, but it was then five Years since.
+Love her he did then, and that most passionately; nor was she insensible
+or ungrateful. But our young Lovers had not Discretion enough to conceal
+the Symptoms of their Passion, which too visibly and frequently sally’d
+out at their Eyes before the old Gentleman; which made him prudently, as
+he thought, and timely enough, offer his Daughter <i>Lucretia</i> the
+Liberty of taking a small Journey with <i>Diana</i> to her House, which
+was not above 20 Miles thence, where that young Lady’s Aunt govern’d in
+her Absence; for <i>Diana</i> had no other Relation, so near as she was,
+living in <i>England</i>, her only Brother <i>Lewis</i> having been in
+<i>Italy</i> and <i>France</i> ever since her Father dy’d, which was
+then near five Years past.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lucretia</i>, over-joy’d at her Father’s pretended Kindness,
+propos’d it to the young Lady, her Friend, who was very fond of the
+Proposal, hoping that <i>Lucretia’s</i> Brother might bear ’em Company
+there for some little Time; but old Sir <i>Henry</i> had quite different
+Thoughts of the Matter. The third Day, from the first Discourse of it,
+was assign’d for their Departure. In the mean Time young <i>Hardyman</i>
+knew not what to think of the Divorce he was going to suffer; for he
+began to have some Apprehensions that the old Knight was sensible, and
+displeas’d, that they lov’d each other: Not but that the Family of the
+<i>Constances</i> was as ancient and honourable as that of
+<i>Hardymans</i>, and was once endow’d with as plentiful an Estate, tho’
+now young <i>Lewis Constance</i> had not above 1200<i>l.</i> a Year.
+(O&nbsp;the unkind Distance that Money makes, even between Friends!)</p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">473</span>
+<p>Old ’Squire <i>Constance</i> was a very worthy Gentleman, and Sir
+<i>Henry</i> had a particular Friendship for him; but (perhaps) that
+dy’d with him, and only a neighbourly Kindness, or something more than
+an ordinary Respect, surviv’d to his Posterity. The Day came that was to
+carry ’em to the young Lady <i>Constance’s</i>, and her Lover was
+preparing to attend ’em, when the old Gentleman ask’d him, What he meant
+by that Preparation? And whether he design’d to leave him alone? Or if
+he could think ’twere dutifully or decently done? To which the Son
+reply’d, That his Care of his Sister, and his Respect to a young Lady,
+in a Manner a Stranger to him, had misled his Thoughts from that Duty
+and Regard he ought to have pay’d to his Father, which he hop’d and
+begg’d he would pardon, tho’ he design’d only just to have seen her safe
+there, and to have return’d at Night. With this the old Gentleman seem’d
+pacify’d for the present; and he bid him go take Leave of the Lady;
+which he did with a great deal of Concern, telling her, that he should
+be most miserable ’till he had the Happiness of seeing her again;
+however, he begg’d she would converse with him by Letters, which might
+(happily) a&nbsp;little palliate his Misfortune in her Absence: Adding,
+that he would be eternally hers, and none but hers. To which she made as
+kind a Return as he could wish; letting him know, that she desired to
+live no longer than she was assur’d that she was belov’d by him. Then
+taking as solemn a Farewel of her as if he had never been to see her
+more, after he had given his Sister a parting Kiss or two, he led ’em
+down to his Father, who saw ’em mounted, and attended by two of his
+Servants. After which he walked with ’em about a Mile from the House,
+where he and young <i>Hardyman</i> left ’em to persue their Journey.</p>
+
+<p>In their Return to the House, said Sir <i>Henry</i>, I find, Son,
+I&nbsp;have hitherto mistaken your Inclinations: I&nbsp;thought they had
+altogether prompted you to great and manly Actions and Attempts; but, to
+my Sorrow, I&nbsp;now find my Error.
+<span class = "pagenum">474</span>
+How, I&nbsp;beseech you, Sir? (ask’d the Son.) You are guilty of a
+foolish lazy Passion, (reply’d the Father) you are in Love,
+<i>Miles</i>; in Love with one who can no Way advance your Fortune,
+Family, nor Fame. ’Tis true, she has Beauty, and o’my Conscience she is
+virtuous too; but will Beauty and Virtue, with a small Portion of
+2000<i>l.</i> answer to the Estate of near 4000<i>l.</i> a Year, which
+you must inherit if you survive me? Beauty and Virtue, Sir, (return’d
+young <i>Hardyman</i>) with the Addition of good Humour and Education,
+is a Dowry that may merit a Crown. Notion! Stuff! All Stuff (cry’d the
+old Knight) Money is Beauty, Virtue, good Humour, Education, Reputation,
+and high Birth. Thank Heaven, Sir, (said <i>Miles</i>) you don’t live as
+if you believ’d your own Doctrine; you part with your Money very freely
+in your House-keeping, and I am happy to see it. ’Tis that I value it
+for; (reply’d the Father) I&nbsp;would therefore have thee, my Son, add
+to what in all Likelihood will be thine, so considerably, by Marriage,
+that thou mayst better deserve the Character of Hospitable
+<i>Hardyman</i> than thy Father Sir <i>Henry</i>.&mdash;Come,
+<i>Miles</i>, (return’d&nbsp;he) thou shalt think no more on her.
+I&nbsp;can’t avoid it, Sir, (said t’other.) Well, well, think of her you
+may, (said Sir <i>Henry</i>) but not as for a Wife; no, if you mean to
+continue in your Father’s Love, be not in Love with Madam <i>Diana</i>,
+nor with any of her Nymphs, tho’ never so fair or so chast&mdash;unless
+they have got Store of Money, Store of Money, <i>Miles</i>. Come, come
+in, we’ll take a Game at <i>Chess</i> before Dinner, if we can.
+I&nbsp;obey you, Sir, (return’d the Son) but if I win, I&nbsp;shall have
+the Liberty to love the Lady, I&nbsp;hope. I&nbsp;made no such Promise,
+(said the Knight) no, no Love without my Leave; but if you give me
+<i>Checque-Mate</i>, you shall have my Bay Gelding, and I would not take
+50 Broad Pieces for him. I’ll do my best, Sir, to deserve him, (said the
+young Gentleman.) ’Tis a mettl’d and fiery Beast (said Sir
+<i>Henry</i>.) They began their Game then, and had made about six Moves
+apiece before Dinner, which was serv’d up near
+<span class = "pagenum">475</span>
+four Hours after they sate down to play. It happen’d they had no Company
+din’d with ’em that Day; so they made a hasty Meal, and fell again to
+their former Dispute, which held ’em near six Hours longer; when, either
+the Knight’s Inadvertency, or the young Gentleman’s Skill and
+Application, gave him the Victory and Reward.</p>
+
+<p>The next Day they hunted; the Day following, the House was fill’d
+with Friends, and Strangers; who came with ’em; all which were certain
+of a hearty Welcome e’er they return’d. Other Days other Company came
+in, as Neighbours; and none of all that made their Visits, could be
+dismiss’d under three or four Days at soonest.</p>
+
+<p>Thus they past the Hours away for about six Weeks; in all which Time
+our Lover could get but one Opportunity of writing to his adorable, and
+that was by the Means of a Servant, who came with a Letter from his
+Sister <i>Lucretia</i> to Sir <i>Henry</i>, and another to him, that
+held one inclos’d to him from the beautiful <i>Diana</i>; the Words, as
+perfectly as I can remember ’em, were these, or to this Effect:</p>
+
+<p class = "salutation">
+<i>My <em>Hardyman</em>,</i></p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword">Too</span> Dear!&mdash;No,&mdash;too much
+lov’d!&mdash;That’s impossible too. How have I enjoy’d my self with your
+Letters since my Absence from you! In the first, how movingly you lament
+the unkind Distances of Time and Place that thus divorces you from me!
+In another, in what tender and prevailing Words your Passion is
+express’d! In a Third, what invincible Arguments are urg’d to prove the
+Presence of your Soul to me in the Absence of your Body! A&nbsp;Fourth,
+how fill’d with just Complaints of a rigorous Father! What Assurances
+does the Fifth give me of your speedy Journey hither! And the Sixth,
+(for no less methought I should have receiv’d from you) confirms what
+you last said to me, <em>That you will ever be mine, and none but
+mine.&mdash;O boundless Blessing!</em>&mdash;These (my&nbsp;Life) are
+the Dreams, which, for six several Nights, have mock’d the real
+Passion&nbsp;of</p>
+
+<p class = "right">
+<i>Your forgotten <em>Diana</em>.</i></p>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">476</span>
+<p>He read it, smil’d, and kiss’d it, and then proceeded to examine his
+Sisters, which held a great many Expressions of a tender Affection, and
+withal gave him Notice, that there was a mighty Spark lately come from
+Town into those Parts, that made his Court to the young Lady
+<i>Constance</i>; desiring him therefore to be as sudden in his Visit,
+if he intended any, as Possibility would permit. This startled and stung
+him: Wherefore, taking the Opportunity of his Father’s Retirement, to
+write to the young Lady and his Sister; he dispatch’d a Letter to
+<i>Lucretia</i>, wherein he thank’d her for her Intelligence and
+Caution, and promis’d to be with her the next Night at farthest, if
+alive; and, at the same Time, writ to this Purpose to <i>Diana</i>:</p>
+
+<p class = "salutation">
+Thou only Blessing for which I wish to live,</p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword">How</span> delightfully do you punish my
+seeming Neglect! I acknowledge I have not sent to you ’till now, but it
+was because it was utterly impossible, my Father continually keeping so
+strict a Guard over me himself, that not even <em>Mercury</em> could
+evade or illude his Vigilance. Alas! my Soul, he is now no Stranger to
+my Passion for you, which he pretends, at least, is highly offensive to
+him, for what Reasons I blush to think. But what signifies an Offence to
+him of so generous a Nature as my Love! I&nbsp;am assured I was born for
+you, or none other of your fair Sex, though attended with all the
+Advantages of Birth and Fortune. I&nbsp;will therefore proceed in this
+Affair, as if we were already united by the outward Ceremonies of the
+Church, and forsake him and all the World for you, my better Part! Be
+certain, therefore, that to-Morrow Night, e’er you sleep, you shall see
+(my&nbsp;Life, my Soul, my All)</p>
+
+<p class = "rightside">
+Your most sincere, and<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp;</span>&emsp;Most passionate Lover,<br>
+<span class = "gap">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</span><i>Hardyman</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This, with the Letter to his Sister, he convey’d into the Servant’s
+Hand that came from ’em, undiscover’d of his Father; who likewise
+dismiss’d the Messenger with
+<span class = "pagenum">477</span>
+his grave Epistle, full of musty Morals, to the two young gay Ladies.
+But he had an unlucky Thought, that he was overseen in giving his Son
+the Opportunity of retiring from him, whilst he was writing to his
+Daughter and t’other fair Creature, having a Jealousy that young
+<i>Hardyman</i> might have made Use of that very Article of Time to the
+same End. This made him very uneasy and restless. On t’other Side, the
+young Gentleman though he was extreamly satisfy’d with those endearing
+Expressions of Love which he found in <i>Diana’s</i> Letter, yet he was
+all on Fire with the Apprehension of a Rival, and the Desire to see him,
+that he might dispute with him for the glorious Prize.</p>
+
+<p>The next Day, at Four in the Afternoon, they went to Bowls about a
+Mile off; where, after several Ends, the Knight and his Party lay all
+nearest about <a class = "comm" name = "unhappy_commtag1" id =
+"unhappy_commtag1" href = "#unhappy_comm1">the Jack</a> for the Game,
+’till young <i>Hardyman</i> put in a bold Cast, that beat all his
+Adversaries from <a class = "comm" name = "unhappy_commtag2" id =
+"unhappy_commtag2" href = "#unhappy_comm2">the Block</a>, and carry’d
+two of his Seconds close to it, his own Bowl lying partly upon it, which
+made them up. Ha! (cry’d a young Gentleman of his Side) bravely done,
+<i>Miles</i>, thou hast carry’d the Day, and kiss’d the Mistress.
+I&nbsp;hope I shall before ’tis dark yet, (return’d&nbsp;he.) Sir
+<i>Henry</i> overhearing him, said, (his Face all glowing red with
+Passion) How dare you, Sir, express your self so freely in my Hearing?
+There, (persu’d he, and struck him a Blow on the Ear) I&nbsp;first
+salute you thus: Do you know where you are, and who I am? Yes, you are
+my Father, Sir, (reply’d young <i>Hardyman</i>, bowing.) If you see her
+to Night, (said the passionate Father) resolve to see me no more. By
+Heaven, and all my Hopes, no more I will, after this Minute, (return’d
+the Son, being retreated some Distance from him, out of his Hearing.) So
+taking his Leave of the Company, with the usual Ceremony, he went
+directly Home, where immediately he order’d his Servant <i>Goodlad</i>
+to saddle their Horses, whilst he himself went up to his
+<span class = "pagenum">478</span>
+Chamber, and took all the Rings and Jewels that his Mother had left him,
+and the Money that he had then in his Possession, which altogether
+amounted to near twelve hundred Pounds; and packing up some Linnen in
+his Portmanteau, he quickly mounted with his Servant, and made his Way
+towards the Lady <i>Constance’s</i>.</p>
+
+<p>’Twas near seven a Clock e’er they got within Sight of his
+Mistress’s, when our Lover perceiv’d a Gentleman and his Servant mounted
+at some Distance on t’other Side of the House, as coming from
+<i>London</i>: This unfortunately happen’d to be <i>Lewis Constance</i>,
+just return’d from his Travels, whom young <i>Hardyman</i> had never
+seen before, and therefore could not know him at that Time: Observing
+therefore that they made to the same Place for which he was design’d, he
+halted a little, taking Covert under a large Elm-Tree, within a hundred
+Paces of the House, where he had the unlucky Opportunity to see his
+Mistress and Sister come out; whom <i>Lewis</i> perceiving at the same
+Time, alighted, and ran eagerly to embrace her, who receiv’d him with
+Arms expanded, crying, O&nbsp;my Dear, dearest Brother; but that last
+Word was stifled with Kisses. Do I once more hold thee in my Arms!
+O&nbsp;come in, and let me give my Joys a Loose! I&nbsp;am surpriz’d,
+and rave with extream Hapiness! O! thou art all to me that is valuable
+on Earth! (return’d&nbsp;he.) At these Words she, in a Manner, hal’d him
+in. This Sight was certainly the greatest Mortification to her Lover
+that ever Man surviv’d! He presently and positively concluded it could
+be none but that Rival, of whom his Sister had given him Advice in her
+Letter. What to do he could by no Means determine; sometimes he was for
+going in, and affronting him before his Mistress; a&nbsp;second Thought
+advis’d him to expect his coming out near that Place; upon another
+Consideration he was going to send him a Challenge, but by whom he knew
+not, for his Servant was as well known there as himself. At last he
+resolv’d to ride farther out
+<span class = "pagenum">479</span>
+of the Road, to see for some convenient Retreat that Night, where he
+might be undiscover’d: Such a Place he found about two Miles thence, at
+a good substantial Farmer’s, who made him heartily welcome that Night,
+with the best Beer he had in his Cellar, so that he slept much better
+than he could have expected his Jealousy would have permitted: But the
+Morning renew’d and redoubled his Torture: But this jolly Landlord,
+hugely pleas’d with his good Company the Night past, visited him as he
+got out of his Bed, which was near two Hours after he wak’d; in which
+Time he had laid his Design how to proceed, in order to take
+Satisfaction of this Rival. He suffer’d himself, therefore, to be
+manag’d by the good Man of the House, who wou’d fain have made a
+Conquest of him; but he found that the young Gentleman could bear as
+much in his Head as he could on his Shoulders, which gave
+<i>Hardyman</i> the Opportunity of keeping a Stowage yet for a good
+Dinner: After which they fell to bumping it about, ’till the Farmer fell
+asleep; when young <i>Hardyman</i> retir’d into his Chamber, where,
+after a Turn or two, he writ as follows to his Mistress’s Brother, whose
+Name he knew not; and therefore the Billet is not superscrib’d.</p>
+
+<p class = "salutation"><i>SIR,</i></p>
+
+<p class = "letter">
+<span class = "firstword">You</span> have done me an unpardonable
+Injury; and if you are a Gentleman, as you seem, you will give me
+Satisfaction within this Hour at the Place whither this Messenger shall
+lead you. Bring nothing with you but your Sword and your Servant, as I
+with mine, to take Care of him that falls.&mdash;’Till I see you,
+I&nbsp;am your Servant,&nbsp;<em>&amp;c.</em></p>
+
+<p>An Hour before Supper, his kind Host wak’d, and they eat heartily
+together that Night, but did not drink so plentifully as they had since
+their first Meeting; young <i>Hardyman</i> telling him, that he was
+oblig’d to be mounted at the fore-mention’d Morning, in order to persue
+his Journey; and that, in the mean Time, he desir’d the
+<span class = "pagenum">480</span>
+Favour of him to let one of his Servants carry a Letter from him, to one
+that was then at the young Lady <i>Constance’s</i>: To which t’other
+readily agreed. The young Gentleman then made him a Present of a
+Tobacco-Box, with the Head of King <i>Charles</i> the First on the Lid,
+and his Arms on the Bottom in Silver; which was very acceptable to him,
+for he was a great Loyalist, tho’ it was in the Height of <i>Oliver’s
+Usurpation</i>. About four a-Clock in the Morning, as our jealous Lover
+had order’d him, one of the Servants came to him for the Letter; with
+which he receiv’d these Instructions, that he should deliver that Note
+into the Gentleman’s own Hand, who came to the Lady <i>Constance’s</i>
+the Night before the last. That he should shew that Gentleman to the
+Field where young <i>Hardyman</i>, should deliver the Note to the
+Servant, which was just a Mile from either House; or that he should
+bring an Answer to the Note from that Gentleman. The Fellow was a good
+Scholar, tho’ he could neither read nor write. For he learn’d his Lesson
+perfectly well, and repeated it punctually to <i>Lewis Constance</i>;
+who was strangely surpriz’d at what he found in the Billet. He ask’d the
+Messenger if he knew his Name that sent it; or if he were a Gentleman?
+Nay (Mass, quoth the Fellow) I&nbsp;warrant he’s a Gentleman; for he has
+given me nine good Shillings here, for coming but hither to you; but for
+his Name, you may e’en name it as well as I&mdash;He has got one to wait
+a top of him almost as fine as himself, zure. The surpriz’d Traveller
+jump’d out of his Bed, slipt on his Gown, and call’d up his Servant:
+Thence he went to his Sister’s Chamber, with whom <i>Lucretia</i> lay:
+They both happen’d to be awake, and talking, as he came to the Door,
+which his Sister permitted him to unlock, and ask’d him the Reason of
+his so early Rising? Who reply’d, That since he could not sleep, he
+would take the Air a little. But first, Sister (continu’d&nbsp;he)
+I&nbsp;will refresh my self at your Lips: And now, Madam, (added he to
+<i>Lucretia</i>) I would beg
+<span class = "pagenum">481</span>
+a Cordial from you. For that (said his Sister) you shall be oblig’d to
+me this once; saying so, she gently turn’d <i>Lucretia’s</i> Face
+towards him, and he had his Wish. Ten to one, but he had rather
+continu’d with <i>Lucretia</i>, than have gone to her Brother, had he
+known him; for he lov’d her truly and passionately: But being a Man of
+true Courage and Honour, he took his Leave of ’em, presently dress’d,
+and tripp’d away with the Messenger, who made more than ordinary Haste,
+because of his Success, <ins class = "correction" title =
+"text reads ‘which which’"> which</ins> was rewarded with another piece of Money;
+and he danc’d Home to the Sound of the Money in his Pocket.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner was the Fellow out of Hearing, than <i>Lewis</i>, coming up
+to his Adversary, shew’d him the Billet, and said, Sent you this to me,
+Sir? I&nbsp;did, Sir, reply’d <i>Hardyman</i>: I never saw you ’till
+now, return’d <i>Lewis</i>; how then could I injure you? ’Tis enough
+that I know it, answer’d <i>Miles</i>. But to satisfy you, you shall
+know that I am sensible that you pretend to a fair Lady, to whom I have
+an elder Title. In short, you entrench on my Prerogative. I&nbsp;own no
+Subjection to you, (return’d <i>Constance</i>) and my Title is as good
+as your Prerogative, which I will maintain as I can hold this,
+(continu’d he, and drew his Sword) Hah! Nobly done! (cry’d
+<i>Hardyman</i> drawing) I&nbsp;could almost wish thou wert my Friend:
+You speak generously, return’d <i>Lewis</i>, I find I have to do with a
+Gentleman. Retire to a convenient Distance, said <i>Hardyman</i> to
+<i>Goodlad</i>. If you come near while we are disputing, my Sword shall
+thank you for’t; and you, Sir, retire! said <i>Constance</i> to his
+Servant. And if you will keep your Life, keep your Distance! O&nbsp;my
+brave Enemy! (cry’d <i>Miles</i>) Give me thy Hand! Here they shook
+Hands, and gave one another the Compliment of the Hat, and then (said
+<i>Hardyman</i>) Come on, Sir! I&nbsp;am with you, Sir, (reply’d
+<i>Lewis</i> standing on his Guard) they were both equally knowing in
+the Use of their Swords; so that they fought for some few Minutes
+without any Wound receiv’d
+<span class = "pagenum">482</span>
+on either Side. But, at last, <i>Miles</i> being taller and much
+stronger than his Adversary, resolv’d to close with him; which he did,
+putting by a Pass that <i>Lewis</i> made at him with his left Hand, and
+at the same Time he run him quite thro’ the Body, threw him, and
+disarm’d him. Rise if thou can’st! (cry’d <i>Hardyman</i>) thou art
+really brave. I&nbsp;will not put thee to the Shame of asking thy Life.
+Alas! I&nbsp;cannot rise, (reply’d <i>Lewis</i>, endeavouring to
+get&nbsp;up) so short a Life as mine were not worth the Breath of a
+Coward.&mdash;Make Haste! Fly hence! For thou are lost if thou stay’st.
+My Friends are many and great; they will murther thee by Law. Fly! Fly
+in Time! Heaven forgive us both! Amen! (Cry’d <i>Miles</i>) I hope thou
+may’st recover! ’Tis Pity so much Bravery and Honour should be lost so
+early. Farewel.&mdash;And now Adieu to the fair and faithless
+<i>Diana</i>! Ha! (Cry’d <i>Constance</i>) O bloody Mistake! But could
+speak no more for Loss of Blood. <i>Hardyman</i> heard not those last
+Words, being spoken with a fainting Voice, but in Haste mounted, and
+rode with all Speed for <i>London</i>, attended by <i>Goodlad</i>;
+whilst <i>Constance’s</i> Servant came up to him, and having all along
+travell’d with him, had two or three Times the Occasion of making Use of
+that Skill in Surgery which he had learn’d Abroad in <i>France</i> and
+<i>Italy</i>, which he now again practis’d on his Master, with such
+Success, that in less than half an Hour, he put his Master in a Capacity
+of leaning on him; and so walking Home with him, tho’ very gently and
+slowly. By the Way, <i>Lewis</i> charg’d his Servant not to say which
+Way <i>Hardyman</i> took, unless he design’d to quit his Service for
+ever. But pardon me, Sir! (return’d t’other) your Wound is very
+dangerous, and I am not sure that it is not mortal: And if so, give me
+Leave to say, I&nbsp;shall persue him over all <i>England</i>, for
+Vengeance of your Death. ’Twas a Mistake on both Sides, I&nbsp;find;
+(said <i>Lewis</i>) therefore think not of Revenge: I&nbsp;was as hot
+and as much to blame as he. They were near an Hour getting to the House,
+after
+<span class = "pagenum">483</span>
+his Blood was stopp’d. As he was led in, designing to be carry’d to his
+Chamber, and to take his Bed as sick of an Ague, his Sister and
+<i>Lucretia</i> met him, and both swoon’d away at the Sight of him; but
+in a little Time they were recover’d, as if to torment him with their
+Tears, Sighs, and Lamentations. They ask’d him a thousand impertinent
+Questions, which he defer’d to answer, ’till he was laid in Bed; when he
+told his Sister, that the Gentleman who had thus treated him, bid her
+Adieu, by the Epithet of Fair and Faithless. For Heaven’s Sake, (cry’d
+<i>Diana</i>) what Manner of Man was he? Very tall and well set,
+(reply’d her Brother) of an austere Aspect, but a well-favour’d Face,
+and prodigiously strong. Had he a Servant with him, Sir? (ask’d
+<i>Lucretia</i>) Yes, Madam (answer’d her Lover) and describ’d her
+Servant. Ah! my Prophetic Fears (cry’d she) It was my Brother, attended
+by <i>Goodlad</i>. Your Brother! Dearest and Fairest of your Sex, (said
+<i>Lewis</i>) Heaven send him safely out of <i>England</i> then! Nay, be
+he who he may, I&nbsp;wish the same; for he is truly brave. Alas, my
+dear, my cruel <i>Hardyman</i>! (cry’d <i>Diana</i>) Your
+<i>Hardyman</i>, Sister! (said <i>Lewis</i>) Ah! would he had been so!
+You might then have had Hopes of an affectionate Brother’s Life; which
+yet I will endeavour to preserve, that by the Enjoyment of your dear and
+nearest Conversation, Madam, (persu’d he to <i>Lucretia</i>) I may be
+prepar’d to endure the only greater Joys of Heaven. But O! My Words prey
+on my Spirits. And all the World, like a huge Ship at Anchor, turn round
+with the ebbing Tide.&mdash;I&nbsp;can no more. At these Words both the
+Ladies shriek’d aloud, which made him sigh, and move his Hand as well as
+he could toward the Door; his Attendant perceiv’d it, and told ’em he
+sign’d to them to quit the Room; as indeed it was necessary they should,
+that he might repose a while if possible, at least that he might not be
+oblig’d to talk, nor look much about him. They obey’d the Necessity, but
+with some Reluctancy, and went into their own Chamber,
+<span class = "pagenum">484</span>
+where they sigh’d, wept, and lamented their Misfortunes for near two
+Hours together: When all on a suddain, the Aunt, who had her Share of
+Sorrow too in this ugly Business, came running up to ’em, to let ’em
+know that old Sir <i>Harry Hardyman</i> was below, and came to carry his
+Daughter Madam <i>Lucretia</i> Home with him. This both surpriz’d and
+troubled the young Ladies, who were yet more disturb’d, when the Aunt
+told them, that he enquir’d for his Son, and would not be convinc’d by
+any Argument whatever; no, nor Protestation in her Capacity, that young
+<i>Hardyman</i> was not in the House, nor that he had not been
+entertain’d there ever since he left his Father&mdash;But come, Cousin
+and Madam, (said she to the young Ladies) go down to him immediately, or
+I fear he’ll come up to you. <i>Lucretia</i> knew she must, and t’other
+would not be there alone: So down they came to the Old testy Gentleman.
+Your Servant, Lady, (said he to <i>Diana</i>) <i>Lucretia</i> then
+kneel’d for his Blessing. Very well, very well, (cry’d he hastily) God
+bless you! Where’s your Brother? Ha! Where’s your Brother? I&nbsp;know
+not, Sir, (she answer’d) I&nbsp;have not seen him since I have been
+here. No, (said&nbsp;he) not since you have been in this Parlour last,
+you mean. I&nbsp;mean, Sir, (she return’d) upon my Hopes of yours and
+Heaven’s Blessing, I&nbsp;have not seen him since I saw you, Sir, within
+a Mile of our own House. Ha! <i>Lucretia</i>, Ha! (cry’d the old
+Infidel) have a Care you pull not mine and Heaven’s Curse on your Head!
+Believe me, Sir, (said <i>Diana</i>) to my Knowledge, she has not. Why,
+Lady, (ask’d the passionate Knight) are you so curious and fond of him
+your self, that you will allow no Body else the Sight of him? Not so
+much as his own Sister? I&nbsp;don’t understand you, Sir, (she reply’d)
+for, by my Hopes of Heaven, I&nbsp;have not seen him neither since that
+Day I left you. Hey! pass and repass, (cry’d the old suspicious Father)
+<i>presto</i>, be gone!&mdash;This is all Conjuration. ’Tis diabolical,
+dealing with the Devil! In Lies, I&nbsp;mean, on one Side or other; for
+he told me to my
+<span class = "pagenum">485</span>
+Teeth, at least, he said in my Hearing, on the Bowling-Green, but two
+Nights since, that he hop’d to see your Ladyship (for I suppose you are
+his Mistress) that Night e’re ’twas dark: Upon which I gave him only a
+kind and fatherly Memorandum of his Duty, and he immediately left the
+Company and me, who have not set Eye on him, nor heard one Syllable of
+him since.&mdash;Now, judge you, Lady, if I have not Reason to conclude
+that he has been and is above still! No, (said the Aunt) you have no
+Reason to conclude so, when they both have told you solemnly the
+contrary; and when I can add, that I will take a formal Oath, if
+requir’d, that he has not been in this House since my Cousin
+<i>Lewis</i> went to travel, nor before, to the best of my Memory; and I
+am confident, neither my Cousin <i>Diana</i>, nor the Lady your
+Daughter, have seen him since they left him with you,
+Sir&mdash;I&nbsp;wish, indeed, my dear Cousin <i>Lewis</i> had not seen
+him since. How! What’s that you say, good Lady? (ask’d the Knight) Is
+Mr. <i>Lewis Constance</i> then in <i>England</i>? And do you think that
+he has seen him so lately? for your Discourse seems to imply as much.
+Sir <i>Henry</i>, (reply’d the Aunt) you are very big with Questions,
+but I will endeavour to satisfy you in all of ’em.&mdash;My Cousin
+<i>Lewis Constance</i> is in <i>England</i>; nay, more, he is now in his
+Chamber a-Bed, and dangerously, if not mortally, wounded, by ’Squire
+<i>Miles Hardyman</i>, your Son. Heaven forbid, (cry’d the Father) sure
+’tis impossible. All Things are so to the Incredulous. Look you, Sir,
+(continu’d she, seeing <i>Lewis’s</i> Servant come&nbsp;in) do you
+remember his <i>French</i> Servant <i>Albert</i>, whom he took some
+Months before he left <i>England</i>?&mdash;There he is. Humh! (said the
+old Sceptic) I&nbsp;think verily ’tis the same. Ay, Sir, (said the
+Servant) I&nbsp;am the same, at your Service. How does your Master?
+(ask’d Sir <i>Henry</i>) Almost as bad as when the ’Squire your Son left
+him, (reply’d <i>Albert</i>) only I have stopp’d the Bleeding, and he is
+now dozing a little; to say the Truth, I&nbsp;have only Hopes of his
+Life because
+<span class = "pagenum">486</span>
+I wish it. When was this done? (the Knight inquir’d) Not three Hours
+since, (return’d t’other.) What was the Occasion? (said Sir
+<i>Henry</i>) An ugly Mistake on both Sides; your Son, as I understand,
+not knowing my Master, took him for his Rival, and bad him quit his
+Pretensions to the fair Lady, for whom he had a Passion: My Master
+thought he meant the Lady <i>Lucretia</i>, your Daughter, Sir, with whom
+I find he is passionately in Love,&mdash;and&mdash;Very
+well&mdash;so&mdash;go on! (interrupted the Knight with a
+Sigh)&mdash;and was resolv’d to dispute his Title with him; which he
+did; but the ’Squire is as strong as the Horse he rides on!&mdash;And!
+’tis a desperate Wound!&mdash;Which Way is he gone, canst thou tell?
+(ask’d the Father) Yes, I&nbsp;can; but I must not, ’tis as much as my
+Place is worth. My Master would not have him taken for all the World;
+nay, I&nbsp;must needs own he is a very brave Person. But you may let me
+know; (said the Father) you may be confident I will not expose him to
+the Law: Besides, if it please Heaven that your Master recovers, there
+will be no Necessity of a Prosecution.&mdash;Prithee let me know! You’ll
+pardon me, Sir, (said <i>Lewis’s</i> trusty Servant) my Master, perhaps,
+may give you that Satisfaction; and I’ll give you Notice, Sir&mdash;when
+you may conveniently discourse him.&mdash;Your humble Servant, Sir,
+(he&nbsp;added, bowing, and went out.) The old Gentleman was strangely
+mortify’d at this News of his Son; and his Absence perplex’d him more
+than any thing besides in the Relation. He walk’d wildly up and down the
+Room, sighing, foaming, and rolling his Eyes in a dreadful Manner; and
+at the Noise of any Horse on the Road, out he would start as nimbly as
+if he were as youthful as his Son, whom he sought in vain among those
+Passengers. Then returning, he cry’d out to her, O&nbsp;<i>Lucretia</i>!
+Your Brother! Where’s your Brother?&mdash;O my Son! the Delight,
+Comfort, and Pride of my Old Age! Why dost thou fly me? Then answering
+as for young <i>Hardyman</i>, (said&nbsp;he) you struck me publickly
+before much Company, in the Face of
+<span class = "pagenum">487</span>
+my Companions.&mdash;Come, (reply’d he for himself) ’Twas Passion,
+<i>Miles</i>, ’twas Passion; Youth is guilty of many Errors, and shall
+not Age be allow’d their Infirmities? <i>Miles</i>, thou know’st I love
+thee.&mdash;Love thee above Riches or long Life.&mdash;O! Come to my
+Arms, dear Fugitive, and make Haste to preserve his, who gave thee thy
+Life!&mdash;Thus he went raving about the Room, whilst the sorrowful,
+compassionate Ladies express’d their Grief in Tears. After this loving
+Fit was over with him, he would start out in a contrary Madness, and
+threaten his Son with the greatest and the heaviest Punishment he could
+imagine; insomuch, that the young Ladies, who had Thoughts before of
+perswading <i>Lewis</i> to inform Sir <i>Harry</i> which Way his Son
+rode, were now afraid of proposing any such Thing to him. Dinner was at
+last serv’d in, to which <i>Diana</i> with much Difficulty prevail’d
+with him to sit. Indeed, neither he, nor any there present, had any
+great Appetite to eat; their Grief had more than satiated ’em. About
+five a-Clock, <i>Albert</i> signify’d to the Knight, that he might then
+most conveniently speak with his Master; but he begg’d that he would not
+disturb him beyond half a Quarter of an Hour: He went up therefore to
+him, follow’d by the young Lady and the Aunt: <i>Lewis</i> was the first
+that spoke, who, putting his Hand a little out of the Bed, said with a
+Sigh, Sir <i>Henry</i>, I hope you will pity a great Misfortune, and
+endeavour to pardon me, who was the greatest Occasion of it; which has
+doubly punish’d me in these Wounds, and in the Loss of that Gentleman’s
+Conversation, whose only Friendship I would have courted. Heaven pardon
+you both the Injuries done to one another; (return’d the Knight)
+I&nbsp;grieve to see you thus, and the more, when I remember my self
+that ’twas done by my Son’s unlucky Hand. Would he were here.&mdash;So
+would not I (said <i>Lewis</i>) ’till I am assur’d my Wound is not
+mortal, which I have some Reasons to believe it is not. Let me beg one
+Favour of you, Sir, (said Sir <i>Henry</i>) I beseech you do not deny
+<span class = "pagenum">488</span>
+me. It must be a very difficult Matter that you, Sir, shall not command
+of me, (reply’d <i>Constance</i>.) It can’t be difficult to you to tell
+me, or to command your Servant to let me know what Road my Son took. He
+may be at <i>Bristol</i> long e’re this, (return’d <i>Lewis</i>.) That
+was the Road they took (added the Servant.) I&nbsp;thank you, my worthy,
+my kind Friend! (said the afflicted Father) I&nbsp;will study to deserve
+this Kindness of you. How do you find your self now? that I may send him
+an Account by my Servant, if he is to be found in that City? Pretty
+hearty, (return’d <i>Lewis</i>) if the Wounds your adorable Daughter
+here has given me, do not prove more fatal than my Friend’s your Son’s.
+She blush’d, and he persu’d, My Servant has sent for the best Physician
+and Surgeon in all these Parts; I&nbsp;expect them every Minute, and
+then I shall be rightly inform’d in the State of my Body. I&nbsp;will
+defer my Messenger ’till then (said Sir <i>Henry</i>.) I will leave that
+to your Discretion, Sir, (return’d <i>Constance</i>.) As they were
+discoursing of ’em, in came the learned Sons of Art: The Surgeon prob’d
+his Wound afresh, which he found very large, but not mortal, his Loss of
+Blood being the most dangerous of all his Circumstances. The
+Country-<i>Æsculapius</i> approv’d of his first Intention, and of his
+Application; so dressing it once himself, he left the Cure of Health to
+the Physician, who prescrib’d some particular Remedy against Fevers, and
+a Cordial or two; took his Fee without any Scruples, as the Surgeon had
+done before, and then took both their Leaves. Sir <i>Henry</i> was as
+joyful as <i>Lewis’s</i> Sister, or as his own Daughter <i>Lucretia</i>,
+who lov’d him perfectly, to hear the Wound was not mortal; and
+immediately dispatch’d a Man and Horse to <i>Bristol</i>, in Search of
+his Son: The Messenger return’d in a short Time with this Account only,
+that such a kind of a Gentleman and his Servant took Shipping the Day
+before, as ’twas suppos’d, for <i>London</i>. This put the old Gentleman
+into a perfect Frenzy. He ask’d the Fellow, Why the Devil he did not
+give
+<span class = "pagenum">489</span>
+his Son the Letter he sent to him? Why he did not tell him, that his
+poor old forsaken Father would receive him with all the Tenderness of an
+indulgent Parent? And why he did not assure his Son, from him, that on
+his Return, he should be bless’d with the Lady <i>Diana</i>? And a
+thousand other extravagant Questions, which no body could reply to any
+better than the Messenger, who told him, trembling; First, That he could
+not deliver the Letter to his Son, because he could not find him: And
+Secondly and Lastly, being an Answer in full to all his Demands, That he
+could not, nor durst tell the young Gentleman any of those kind Things,
+since he had no Order to do so; nor could he enter into his Worship’s
+Heart, to know his Thoughts: Which Return, tho’ it was reasonable
+enough, and might have been satisfactory to any other Man in better
+Circumstances of Mind; so enrag’d Sir <i>Henry</i>, that he had
+certainly kill’d the poor Slave, had not the Fellow sav’d his Life by
+jumping down almost half the Stairs, and continuing his Flight, Sir
+<i>Henry</i> still persuing him, ’till he came to the Stables, where
+finding the Door open, Sir <i>Henry</i> ran in and saddl’d his Horse his
+own self, without staying for any Attendant, or so much as taking his
+Leave of the Wounded Gentleman, or Ladies, or giving Orders to his
+Daughter when she should follow him Home, whither he was posting alone;
+but the Servant who came out with him, accidentally seeing him as he
+rode out at the farthest Gate, so timely persu’d him, that he overtook
+him about a Mile and half off the House. Home they got then in less than
+three Hours Time, without one Word or Syllable all the Way on either
+Side, unless now and then a hearty Sigh or Groan from the afflicted
+Father, whose Passion was so violent, and had so disorder’d him, that he
+was constrain’d immediately to go to Bed, where he was seiz’d with a
+dangerous Fever, which was attended with a strange <i>Delirium</i>, or
+rather with an absolute Madness, of which the Lady <i>Lucretia</i> had
+Advice that same Night,
+<span class = "pagenum">490</span>
+tho’ very late. This News so surpriz’d and afflicted her, as well for
+the Danger of her Lover as of her Father, that it threw her into a
+Swoon; out of which, when, with some Difficulty she was recover’d, with
+great Perplexity and Anguish of Mind she took a sad Farewel of the Lady
+<i>Diana</i>, but durst not be seen by her Brother on such an Occasion,
+as of taking Leave, lest it should retard his Recovery: To her Father’s
+then she was convey’d with all convenient Expedition: The old Gentleman
+was so assiduously and lawfully attended by his fair affectionate
+Daughter, that in less than ten Days Time his Fever was much abated, and
+his <i>Delirium</i> had quite left him, and he knew every Body about him
+perfectly; only the Thoughts of his Son, by Fits, would choak and
+discompose him: However, he was very sensible of his Daughter’s Piety in
+her Care of him, which was no little Comfort to him: Nor, indeed, could
+he be otherwise than sensible of it by her Looks, which were then pale
+and thin, by over-watching; which occasion’d her Sickness, as it caus’d
+her Father’s Health: For no sooner could Sir <i>Henry</i> walk about the
+Room, than she was forc’d to keep her Bed; being afflicted with the same
+Distemper from which her Father was yet but hardly freed: Her Fever was
+high, but the <i>Delirium</i> was not so great: In which, yet, she
+should often discover her Passion for <i>Lewis Constance</i>, her
+wounded Lover; lamenting the great Danger his Life had been in, as if
+she had not receiv’d daily Letters of his Amendment. Then again, she
+would complain of her Brother’s Absence, but more frequently of her
+Lover’s; which her Father hearing, sent to invite him to come to her,
+with his Sister, as soon as young <i>Constance</i> was able to undertake
+the Journey; which he did the very next Day; and he and <i>Diana</i>
+gave the languishing Lady a Visit in her Chamber, just in the happy Time
+of an Interval, which, ’tis suppos’d, was the sole Cause of her
+Recovery; for the Sight of her Lover and Friend was better than the
+richest Cordial in her
+<span class = "pagenum">491</span>
+Distemper. In a very short Time she left her Bed, when Sir <i>Henry</i>,
+to give her perfect Health, himself join’d the two Lovers Hands; and not
+many Weeks after, when her Beauty and Strength return’d in their wonted
+Vigour, he gave her 10000<i>l.</i> and his Blessing, which was a double
+Portion, on their Wedding-Day, which he celebrated with all the Cost and
+Mirth that his Estate and Sorrow would permit: Sorrow for the Loss of
+his Son, I&nbsp;mean, which still hung upon him, and still hover’d and
+croak’d over and about him, as Ravens, and other Birds of Prey, about
+Camps and dying People. His Melancholy, in few Months, increas’d to that
+Degree, that all Company and Conversation was odious to him, but that of
+Bats, Owls, Night-Ravens, <i>&amp;c.</i> Nay, even his Daughter, his
+dear and only Child, as he imagin’d, was industriously avoided by him.
+In short, it got so intire a Mastery of him, that he would not nor did
+receive any Sustenance for many Days together; and at last it confin’d
+him to his Bed; where he lay wilfully speechless for two Days and
+Nights; his Son-in-Law, or his own Daughter, still attending a-Nights by
+Turns; when on the third Night, his <i>Lucretia</i> sitting close by him
+in Tears, he fetch’d a deep Sigh, which ended in a pitious Groan, and
+call’d faintly, <i>Lucretia! Lucretia!</i> The Lady being then almost as
+melancholy as her Father, did not hear him ’till the third Call; when
+falling on her Knees, and embracing his Hand, which he held out to her,
+she return’d with Tears then gushing out, Yes, Sir, it is I, your
+<i>Lucretia</i>, your dutiful, obedient, and affectionate
+<i>Lucretia</i>, and most sorrowfully-afflicted Daughter. Bless her,
+Heaven! (said the Father) I’m going now, (continu’d he weakly)
+O&nbsp;<i>Miles</i>! yet come and take thy last Farewel of thy dear
+Father! Art thou for ever gone from me? Wilt thou not come and take thy
+dying Father’s Blessing? Then I will send it after thee. Bless him!
+O&nbsp;Heaven! Bless him! Sweet Heaven bless my Son! My <i>Miles</i>!
+Here he began to faulter in his Speech, when the Lady gave a
+<span class = "pagenum">492</span>
+great Shriek, which wak’d and alarm’d her Husband, who ran down to ’em
+in his Night-Gown, and, kneeling by the Bed-side with his Lady, begg’d
+their departing Father’s Blessing on them. The Shriek had
+(it&nbsp;seems) recall’d the dying Gentleman’s fleeting Spirits, who
+moving his Hand as well as he could, with Eyes lifted up, as it were,
+whisper’d, Heaven bless you both! Bless me! Bless my&mdash;O
+<i>Miles</i>! Then dy’d. His Death (no&nbsp;Doubt) was attended with the
+Sighs, Tears, and unfeign’d Lamentations of the Lady and her Husband;
+for, bating his sudden Passion, he was certainly as good a Father,
+Friend, and Neighbour, as <i>England</i> could boast. His Funeral was
+celebrated then with all the Ceremonies due to his Quality and Estate:
+And the young happy Couple felt their dying Parent’s Blessing in their
+mutual Love and uninterrupted Tranquillity: Whilst (alas) it yet far’d
+otherwise with their Brother; of whose Fortune it is fit I should now
+give you an Account.</p>
+
+<p>From <i>Bristol</i> he arriv’d to <i>London</i> with his Servant
+<i>Goodlad</i>; to whom he propos’d, either that he should return to Sir
+<i>Henry</i>, or share in his Fortunes Abroad: The faithful Servant told
+him, he would rather be unhappy in his Service, than quit it for a large
+Estate. To which his kind Master return’d, (embracing him) No more my
+Servant now, but my Friend! No more <i>Goodlad</i>, but <i>Truelove</i>!
+And I am&mdash;<i>Lostall</i>! ’Tis a very proper Name, suitable to my
+wretched Circumstances. So after some farther Discourse on their Design,
+they sold their Horses, took Shipping, and went for <i>Germany</i>,
+where then was the Seat of War.</p>
+
+<p><i>Miles’s</i> Person and Address soon recommended him to the chief
+Officers in the Army; and his Friend <i>Truelove</i> was very well
+accepted with ’em. They both then mounted in the same Regiment and
+Company, as Volunteers; and in the first Battel behav’d themselves like
+brave <i>English</i>-men; especially <i>Miles</i>, whom now we must call
+Mr. <i>Lostall</i>, who
+<span class = "pagenum">493</span>
+signaliz’d himself that Day so much, that his Captain and Lieutenant
+being kill’d, he succeeded to the former in the Command of the Company,
+and <i>Truelove</i> was made his Lieutenant. The next Field-Fight
+<i>Truelove</i> was kill’d, and <i>Lostall</i> much wounded, after he
+had sufficiently reveng’d his Friend’s Death by the Slaughter of many of
+the Enemies. Here it was that his Bravery was so particular, that he was
+courted by the Lieutenant-General to accept of the Command of a Troop of
+Horse; which gave him fresh and continu’d Occasions of manifesting his
+Courage and Conduct. All this while he liv’d too generously for his Pay;
+so that in the three or four Years Time, the War ceasing, he was oblig’d
+to make use of what Jewels and Money he had left of his own, for his Pay
+was quite spent. But at last his whole Fund being exhausted to about
+fifty or threescore Pounds, he began to have Thoughts of returning to
+his native Country, <i>England</i>; which in a few Weeks he did, and
+appear’d at the <i>Tower</i> to some of his Majesty’s (King
+<i>Charles</i> the Second’s) Officers, in a very plain and coarse, but
+clean and decent Habit: To one of these Officers he address’d himself,
+and desir’d to mount his Guards under his Command, and in his Company;
+who very readily receiv’d him into Pay. (The Royal Family had not then
+been restor’d much above a Twelve-Month.) In this Post, his Behaviour
+was such, that he was generally belov’d both by the Officers and private
+Soldiers, most punctually and exactly doing his Duty; and when he was
+off the Guard, he would employ himself in any laborious Way whatsoever
+to get a little Money. And it happen’d, that one Afternoon, as he was
+helping to clean the <i>Tower</i> Ditch, (for he refus’d not to do the
+meanest Office, in Hopes to expiate his Crime by such voluntary
+Penances) a&nbsp;Gentleman, very richly dress’d, coming that Way, saw
+him at Work; and taking particular Notice of him, thought he should know
+that Face of his, though some of the Lines had been struck out by a Scar
+or two:
+<span class = "pagenum">494</span>
+And regarding him more earnestly, he was at last fully confirm’d, that
+he was the Man he thought him; which made him say to the Soldier,
+Prithee, Friend, What art thou doing there? The unhappy Gentleman
+return’d, in his Country Dialect, Why, Master, Cham helping to clear the
+<i>Tower</i> Ditch, zure, an’t please you. ’Tis very hot, (said t’other)
+Art thou not a dry? Could’st thou not drink? Ay, Master, reply’d the
+Soldier, with all my Heart. Well, (said the Gentleman) I’ll give thee a
+Flaggon or two; Where is the best Drink? At yonder House, Master,
+(answer’d the Soldier) where you see yon Soldier at the Door, there be
+the best Drink and the best Measure, zure: Chil woit a top o your
+Worship az Zoon as you be got thare. I’ll take thy Word, said t’other,
+and went directly to the Place; where he had hardly sate down, and
+call’d for some Drink, e’er the Soldier came in, to whom the Gentleman
+gave one Pot, and drank to him out of another. <i>Lostall</i>, that was
+the Soldier, whipp’d off his Flaggon, and said, bowing, Well, Master,
+God bless your Worship! Ich can but love and thank you, and was going;
+but the Gentleman, who had farther Business with him, with some
+Difficulty prevail’d on him to sit down, for a Minute or two, after the
+Soldier had urg’d that he must mind his Business, for he had yet half a
+Day’s Work almost to complete, and he would not wrong any Body of a
+Quarter of an Hour’s Labour for all the World. Th’art a very honest
+Fellow, I&nbsp;believe, said his Friend; but prithee what does thy whole
+Day’s Work come to? Eighteen-pence, reply’d <i>Lostall</i>: Look, there
+’tis for thee, said the Gentleman. Ay; but an’t like your Worship, who
+must make an End of my Day’s Business? (the Soldier ask’d.) Get any Body
+else to do it for thee, and I’ll pay him. Can’st prevail with one of thy
+Fellow-Soldiers to be so kind? Yes, Master, thank God, cham not so ill
+belov’d nother. Here’s honest <i>Frank</i> will do so much vor me, Zure:
+Wilt not, <i>Frank</i>? (withal my Heart, <i>Tom</i>, reply’d his
+Comrade.) Here, Friend, (said <i>Lostall’s</i>
+<span class = "pagenum">495</span>
+new Acquaintance) here’s Eighteen-pence for thee too. I&nbsp;thank your
+Honour, return’d the Soldier, but should have but Nine-pence. No Matter
+what thou should’st have, I’ll give thee no less, said the strange
+Gentleman. Heavens bless your Honour! (cry’d the Soldier) and after he
+had swigg’d off a Pot of good Drink, took <i>Lostall’s</i> Pick-ax and
+Spade, and went about his Business. Now (said the Stranger) let us go
+and take a Glass of Wine, if there be any that is good hereabouts, for I
+fancy thou’rt a mighty honest Fellow; and I like thy Company mainly.
+Cham very much bound to behold you, Master, (return’d <i>Lostall</i>)
+and chave a Fancy that you be and a <i>West</i>-Country-Man, zure;
+(added&nbsp;he) you do a take zo like en; <a class = "comm" name =
+"unhappy_commtag3" id = "unhappy_commtag3" href = "#unhappy_comm3">vor
+<i>Mainly</i> be our Country Word, zure</a>. We’ll talk more of that by
+and by, said t’other: Mean while I’ll discharge the House, and walk
+whither thou wilt lead me. That shan’t be var, zure; (return’d
+<i>Lostall</i>) vor <a class = "comm" name = "unhappy_commtag4" id =
+"unhappy_commtag4" href = "#unhappy_comm4">the <i>Gun</i></a> upon the
+Hill there, has the best Report for Wine and Zeck Ale hereabouts. There
+they arriv’d then in a little Time, got a Room to themselves, and had
+better Wine than the Gentleman expected. After a Glass or two a-piece,
+his unknown Friend ask’d <i>Lostall</i> what Country-Man he was? To whom
+the Soldier reply’d, That he was a <i>Zomerzetshire</i> Man, zure.
+Did’st thou never hear then of one Sir <i>Henry Hardyman</i>? (the
+Stranger ask’d.) Hier of’n! (cry’d t’other) yes, zure; chave a zeen ’en
+often. Ah! Zure my Mother and I have had many a zwindging Pitcher of
+good Drink, and many a good Piece of Meat at his House. Humh! (cry’d the
+Gentleman) It seems your Mother and you knew him, then? Ay, zure, mainly
+well; ich mean, by zight, mainly well, by zight. They had a great deal
+of farther Discourse, which lasted near two Hours; in which Time the
+Gentleman had the Opportunity to be fully assur’d, that this was
+<i>Miles Hardyman</i>, for whom he took him at first. At that first
+Conference, <i>Miles</i> told him his Name was honest <i>Tom
+Lostall</i>; and that he had been a Souldier about five Years; having
+first obtain’d the Dignity
+<span class = "pagenum">496</span>
+of a Serjeant, and afterward had the Honour to be a Trooper, which was
+the greatest Post of Honour that he could boast of. At last, his new
+Friend ask’d <i>Miles</i>, if he should see him there at Three in the
+Afternoon the next Day? <i>Miles</i> return’d, That he should be at his
+Post upon Duty then; and that without Leave from his Lieutenant, who
+then would command the Guards at the <i>Tower</i>, he could not stir a
+Foot with him. His Friend return’d, That he would endeavour to get Leave
+for him for an Hour or two: After which they drank off their Wine; the
+Gentleman pay’d the Reckoning, and gave <i>Miles</i> <a class = "comm"
+name = "unhappy_commtag5" id = "unhappy_commtag5" href =
+"#unhappy_comm5">a Broad piece</a> to drink more Wine ’till he came, if
+he pleas’d, and then parted ’till the next Day. When his Friend was
+gone, <i>Miles</i> had the Opportunity of reflecting on that Day’s
+Adventure. He thought he had seen the Gentleman’s Face, and heard his
+Voice, but where, and upon what Occasion, he could not imagine; but he
+was in Hopes, that on a second Interview, he might recollect himself
+where it was he had seen him. ’Twas exactly Three a-Clock the next
+Afternoon, when his Friend came in his own Mourning-Coach, accompany’d
+by another, who look’d like a Gentleman, though he wore no Sword. His
+Friend was attended by two of his own Foot-men in black Liveries.
+<i>Miles</i> was at his Post, when his Friend ask’d where the Officer of
+the Guard was? The Soldier reply’d, That he was at the <i>Gun</i>. The
+Gentleman went directly to the Lieutenant, and desir’d the Liberty of an
+Hour or two for <i>Miles</i>, then <i>Tom Lostall</i>, to take a Glass
+of Wine with him: The Lieutenant return’d, That he might keep him a Week
+or two, if he pleas’d, and he would excuse him; for (added&nbsp;he)
+there is not a more obedient nor better Soldier than <i>Tom</i> was in
+the whole Regiment; and that he believ’d he was as brave as obedient.
+The Gentleman reply’d, That he was very happy to hear so good a
+Character of him; and having obtain’d Leave for his Friend, made his
+Compliment, and return’d, to take <i>Miles</i> along with him: When he
+came to the trusty
+<span class = "pagenum">497</span>
+Centinel, he commanded the Boot to be let down, and desir’d <i>Miles</i>
+to come into the Coach, telling him, That the Officer had given him
+Leave. Ah! Sir, (return’d <i>Miles</i>) altho’ he has, I&nbsp;cannot,
+nor will quit my Post, ’till I am reliev’d by a Corporal; on which,
+without any more Words, the Gentleman once more went to the Lieutenant,
+and told him what the Soldier’s Answer was. The Officer smil’d, and
+reply’d, That he had forgot to send a Corporal with him, e’er he was got
+out o’ Sight, and begg’d the Gentleman’s Pardon that he had given him a
+second Trouble. Then immediately calling for a Corporal, he dispatch’d
+him with the Gentleman to relieve <i>Miles</i>, who then, with some
+little Difficulty, was prevail’d on to step into the Coach, which
+carry’d ’em into some Tavern or other in <i>Leadenhall-street</i>;
+where, after a Bottle or two, his Friend told <i>Miles</i>, that the
+Gentleman who came with him in the Coach, had some Business with him in
+another Room. <i>Miles</i> was surpriz’d at that, and look’d earnestly
+on his Friend’s Companion; and seeing he had no Sword, pull’d off his
+own, and walk’d with him into the next Room; where he ask’d the
+Stranger, What Business he had with him? To which the other reply’d,
+That he must take Measure of him. How! (cry’d <i>Miles</i>) take Measure
+of me? That need not be; for I can tell how tall I am. I&nbsp;am
+(continu’d&nbsp;he) six Foot and two Inches high. I&nbsp;believe as much
+(said t’other.) But, Sir, I&nbsp;am a Taylor, and must take Measure of
+you to make a Suit of Cloaths or two for you; or half a Dozen, if you
+please. Pray, good Mr. Taylor (said <i>Miles</i>) don’t mock me; for
+tho’ cham a poor Fellow, yet cham no Vool zure. I&nbsp;don’t, indeed,
+Sir, reply’d t’other. Why, who shall pay for ’em? Your Friend, the
+Gentleman in the next Room: I’ll take his Word for a thousand Pounds,
+and more; and he has already promis’d to be my Pay-Master for as many
+Suits as you shall bespeak, and of what Price you please. Ah! mary,
+(cry’d <i>Miles</i>) he is a Right Worshipful Gentleman; and ich caunt
+but
+<span class = "pagenum">498</span>
+love ’n&nbsp;and thank ’n. The Taylor then took Measure of him, and they
+return’d to the Gentleman; who, after a Bottle or two a-piece, ask’d
+<i>Miles</i> when he should mount the Guard next? <i>Miles</i> told him
+four Days thence, and he should be posted in the same Place, and that
+his Captain would then command the Guard, who was a very noble Captain,
+and a good Officer. His Friend, who then had no farther Business with
+<i>Miles</i> at that Time, once more parted with him, ’till Three
+a-Clock the next Saturday; when he return’d, and ask’d if the Captain
+were at the <i>Gun</i>, or no? <i>Miles</i> assur’d him he was. His
+Friend then went down directly to the Tavern, where he found the
+Captain, the Lieutenant, and Ensign; upon his Address the Captain most
+readily gave his Consent that <i>Miles</i> might stay with him a Month,
+if he would; and added many Things in Praise of his trusty and dutiful
+Soldier. The Gentleman then farther entreated, that he might have the
+Liberty to give him and the other Officers a Supper that Night; and that
+they would permit their poor Soldier, <i>Tom Lostall</i>, the Honour to
+eat with ’em there. To the first, the Captain and the rest seem’d
+something averse; but to the last they all readily agreed; and at length
+the Gentleman’s Importunity prevail’d on ’em to accept his Kindness, he
+urging that it was in Acknowledgment of all those Favours they had
+plac’d on his Friend <i>Tom</i>. With his pleasing Success he came to
+<i>Miles</i>, not forgetting then to take a Corporal with him. At this
+second Invitation into the Coach, <i>Miles</i> did not use much
+Ceremony, but stepp’d in, and would have sate over against the
+Gentleman, by the Gentleman-Taylor; but his Friend oblig’d him to sit on
+the same Seat with him. They came then again to their old Tavern in
+<i>Leadenhall-street</i>, and were shew’d into a large Room; where they
+had not been above six Minutes, e’er the Gentleman’s Servants, and
+another, who belong’d to Monsieur Taylor, brought two or three large
+Bags; out of one they took Shirts, half Shirts, Bands, and
+<span class = "pagenum">499</span>
+Stockings; out of another, a&nbsp;Mourning-Suit; out of a third,
+a&nbsp;Mourning Cloak, Hat, and a large Hatband, with black Cloth-Shoes;
+and one of the Gentleman’s Servants laid down a Mourning Sword and Belt
+on the Table: <i>Miles</i> was amaz’d at the Sight of all these Things,
+and kept his Eyes fix’d on ’em, ’till his Friend cry’d, Come,
+<i>Tom</i>! Put on your Linnen first! Here! (continu’d he to his
+Servant) Bid ’em light some Faggots here! For, tho’ ’tis Summer, the
+Linnen may want Airing, and there may be some ugly cold Vapours about
+the Room, which a good Fire will draw away. <i>Miles</i> was still in a
+Maze! But the Fire being well kindled, the Gentleman himself took a
+Shirt, and air’d it; commanding one of his Servants to help <i>Tom</i>
+to undress. <i>Miles</i> was strangely out o’ Countenance at this, and
+told his Friend, that he was of Age and Ability to pull off his own
+Cloaths; that he never us’d to have any <i>Valets de Chambre</i>;
+(as&nbsp;they call’d ’em) and for his Part, he was asham’d, and sorry
+that so worshipful a Gentleman should take the Trouble to warm a Shirt
+for him. Besides (added&nbsp;he) chave Heat enough (zure) to warm my
+Shirt. In short, he put on his Shirt, half Shirt, his Cloaths and all
+Appurtenances, as modishly as the best <i>Valet de Chambre</i> in
+<i>Paris</i> could. When <i>Miles</i> was dress’d, his Friend told him,
+That he believ’d he look’d then more like himself than ever he had done
+since his Return to <i>England</i>. Ah! Noble Sir! said <i>Miles</i>.
+<i>Vine Feathers make vine Birds.</i> But pray, Sir, Why must I wear
+Mourning? Because there is a particular Friend of mine dead, for whose
+Loss I can never sufficiently mourn my self; and therefore I desire that
+all whom I love should mourn with me for him, return’d the Gentleman;
+not but that there are three other Suits in Hand for you at this Time.
+<i>Miles</i> began then to suspect something of his Father’s Death,
+which had like to have made him betray his Grief at his Eyes; which his
+Friend perceiving, took him by the Hand, and said, Here, my dear Friend!
+To the Memory of my departed Friend!
+<span class = "pagenum">500</span>
+You are so very like what he was, considering your Difference in Years,
+that I can’t choose but love you next to my Wife and my own Sister. Ah!
+Sir! (said he, and lapping his Handkerchief to his Eyes) How can I
+deserve this of you? I&nbsp;have told you (reply’d t’other.)
+But&mdash;Come! Take your Glass, and about with it! He did so; and they
+were indifferently pleasant, the Subject of Discourse being chang’d,
+’till about a quarter after Five; when the Gentleman call’d to pay, and
+took Coach with <i>Miles</i> only, for the <i>Gun-Tavern</i>; where he
+order’d a very noble Supper to be got ready with all Expedition; mean
+while they entertain’d one another, in a Room as distant from the
+Officers as the House would permit: <i>Miles</i> relating to his new
+Friend all his Misfortunes Abroad, but still disguising the true
+Occasion of his leaving <i>England</i>. Something more than an Hour
+after, one of the Drawers came to let ’em know, that Supper was just
+going to be serv’d up. They went then directly to the Officers, whom
+they found all together, with two or three Gentlemen more of their
+Acquaintance: They all saluted the Gentleman who had invited ’em first,
+and then complimented <i>Miles</i>, whom they mistook for another Friend
+of the Gentleman’s that gave ’em the Invitation; not in the least
+imagining that it was <i>Tom Lostall</i>. When they were all sat, the
+Captain ask’d, Where is our trusty and well-beloved Friend Mr. <i>Thomas
+Lostall</i>? Most honoured Captain! (reply’d <i>Miles</i>) I am here,
+most humbly at your Honour’s Service, and all my other noble Officers.
+Ha! <i>Tom</i>! (cry’d the Lieutenant) I&nbsp;thought indeed when thou
+first cam’st in, that I should have seen that hardy Face of thine
+before. Face, Hands, Body, and Heart and all, are at your, all your
+Honours Service, as long as I live. We doubt it not, dear <i>Tom</i>!
+(return’d his Officers, unanimously.) Come, noble Gentlemen!
+(interrupted <i>Miles’s</i> Friend) Supper is here, let us fall to:
+I&nbsp;doubt not that after Supper I shall surprise you farther. They
+then fell to eating heartily; and after the Table was clear’d they drank
+<span class = "pagenum">501</span>
+merrily: At last, after the King’s, Queen’s, Duke’s, and all the Royal
+Family’s, and the Officers Healths, his Friend begg’d that he might
+begin a Health to <i>Tom Lostall</i>; which was carry’d about very
+heartily; every one had a good Word for him, one commending his Bravery,
+another, his ready Obedience; and a third, his Knowledge in material
+Discipline, <i>&amp;c.</i> ’till at length it grew late, their Stomachs
+grew heavy, and their Heads light; when the Gentleman, <i>Miles’s</i>
+Friend, calling for a Bill, he found it amounted to seven Pounds ten
+Shillings, odd Pence, which he whisper’d <i>Tom Lostall</i> to pay; who
+was in a Manner Thunder-struck at so strange a Sound; but, recollecting
+himself, he return’d, That if his Friend pleas’d, he would leave his
+Cloak, and any Thing else, ’till the House were farther satisfy’d:
+T’other said, He was sure <i>Miles</i> had Money enough about him to
+discharge two such Bills: To which <i>Miles</i> reply’d, That if he had
+any Money about him, ’twas none of his own, and that ’twas certainly
+conjur’d into his Pockets. No Matter how it came there (said t’other;)
+but you have above twenty Pounds about you of your own Money: Pray feel.
+<i>Miles</i> then felt, and pull’d out as much Silver as he could grasp,
+and laid it down on the Table. Hang this white Pelf; (cry’d his Friend)
+pay it in Gold, like your self, Come, apply your Hand to another Pocket:
+He did so, and brought out as many Broad-Pieces as Hand could hold. Now
+(continu’d his Friend) give the Waiter eight of ’em, and let him take
+the Overplus for his Attendance. <i>Miles</i> readily obey’d, and they
+were <i>Very Welcome, Gentlemen</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Now, honoured Captain, (said his Friend) and you, Gentlemen, his
+other worthy Officers, be pleas’d to receive your Soldier, as Sir
+<i>Miles Hardyman</i>, Bar., Son to the late Sir <i>Henry Hardyman</i>
+of <i>Somersetshire</i>, my dear and honoured Brother-in-Law: Who is
+certainly&mdash;the most unhappy Wretch crawling on Earth! (interrupted
+<i>Miles</i>) O just Heaven! (persu’d&nbsp;he) How have I been rack’d in
+my Soul
+<span class = "pagenum">502</span>
+ever since the Impious Vow I made, that I never would see my dearest
+Father more! This is neither a Time nor Place to vent your Sorrows, my
+dearest Brother! (said his Friend, tenderly embracing him.) I&nbsp;have
+something now more material than your Expressions of Grief can be here,
+since your honoured Father has been dead these five Years
+almost:&mdash;Which is to let you know, that you are now Master of four
+thousand Pounds a Year; and if you will forgive me two Years Revenue,
+I&nbsp;will refund the rest, and put you into immediate and quiet
+Possession; which I promise before all this worthy and honourable
+Company. To which <i>Miles</i> return’d, That he did not deserve to
+inherit one Foot of his Father’s Lands, tho’ they were entail’d on him,
+since he had been so strangely undutiful; and that he rather thought his
+Friend ought to enjoy it all in Right of his Sister, who never offended
+his Father in the whole Course of her Life:&mdash;But, I&nbsp;beseech
+you, Sir, (continu’d he to his Friend) how long is it since I have been
+so happy in so good and generous a Brother-in-Law? Some Months before
+Sir <i>Henry</i> our Father dy’d, who gave us his latest Blessing,
+except that which his last Breath bequeath’d and sigh’d after you.
+O&nbsp;undutiful and ungrateful Villain that I am, to so kind, and so
+indulgent, and so merciful a Father: (cry’d <i>Miles</i>) But Heaven,
+I&nbsp;fear, has farther Punishments in Store for so profligate a Wretch
+and so disobedient a Son.&mdash;But your Name, Sir, if you please?
+(persu’d he to his Brother) I&nbsp;am <i>Lewis Constance</i>, whom once
+you unhappily mistook for your Rival. Unhappily, indeed: (return’d
+<i>Miles</i>) I thought I had seen you before. Ay, Sir, (return’d
+<i>Constance</i>) but you could never think to have seen me again, when
+you wounded and left me for dead, within a Mile of my House. O! thou art
+brave, (cry’d his Brother, embracing him affectionately) ’tis too much
+Happiness, for such a Reprobate to find so true a Friend and so just a
+Brother. This, this does in some Measure compensate
+<span class = "pagenum">503</span>
+for the Loss of so dear a Father.&mdash;Take, take all, my Brother!
+(persu’d he, kissing <i>Lewis’s</i> Cheek) Take all thou hast receiv’d
+of what is call’d mine, and share my whole Estate with me: But pardon
+me, I&nbsp;beseech you my most honour’d Officers, and all you Gentlemen
+here present, (continu’d he to the whole Company, who sate silent and
+gazing at one another, on the Occasion of so unusual an Adventure)
+pardon the Effects of Grief and Joy in a distracted Creature! O, Sir
+<i>Miles</i>, (cry’d his Captain) we grieve for your Misfortune, and
+rejoice at your Happiness in so noble a Friend and so just a Brother.
+<i>Miles</i> then went on, and gave the Company a full but short Account
+of the Occasion of all his Troubles, and of all his Accidents he met
+with both Abroad and at Home, to the first Day that <i>Constance</i> saw
+him digging in the <i>Tower</i>-Ditch. About one that Morning, which
+preceded that Afternoon (persu’d&nbsp;he) whereon I saw my dear Brother
+here, then a Stranger to me, I&nbsp;dream’d I saw my Father at a
+Distance, and heard him calling to me to quit my honourable Employment
+in his Majesty’s Service: This (my&nbsp;Thought) he repeated seven or
+nine Times, I&nbsp;know not which; but I was so disturb’d at it, that I
+began to wake, and with my Eyes but half open was preparing to rise;
+when I fancy’d I felt a cold Hand take me by the Hand, and force me on
+my hard Bolster again, with these Words, take thy Rest, <i>Miles</i>!
+This I confess did somewhat surprize me; but I concluded, ’twas the
+Effect of my Melancholy, which, indeed, has held me ever since I last
+left <i>England</i>: I therefore resolutely started up, and jump’d out
+of Bed, designing to leave you, and sit up with my Fellow-Soldiers on
+the Guard; but just then I heard the Watchman cry, <i>Past one a Clock
+and a Star-light Morning</i>; when, considering that I was to be at Work
+in the Ditch by four a Clock, I&nbsp;went to Bed again, and slumber’d,
+doz’d, and dream’d, ’til Four; ever when I turn’d me, still hearing, as
+I foolishly imagin’d,
+<span class = "pagenum">504</span>
+my Father crying to me, <i>Miles</i>! Sleep, my <i>Miles</i>! Go not to
+that nasty Place, nor do such servile Offices! tho’ thou dost, I’ll have
+thee out this Day, nay, I&nbsp;will pull thee out: And then I foolishly
+imagin’d, that the same cold Hand pull’d me out of the Ditch; and being
+in less than a Minute’s Time perfectly awake, I&nbsp;found my self on my
+Feet in the Middle of the Room; I&nbsp;soon put on my Cloaths then, and
+went to my Labour. Were you thus disturb’d when you were Abroad? (the
+Captain ask’d) O&nbsp;worse, Sir, (answer’d <i>Miles</i>) especially on
+a Tuesday Night, a&nbsp;little after One, being the Twelth of
+<i>November</i>, New Style, I&nbsp;was wak’d by a Voice, which
+(methought) cry’d, <i>Miles</i>, <i>Miles</i>, <i>Miles!</i> Get hence,
+go Home, go to <i>England</i>! I was startled at it, but regarded it
+only as proceeding from my going to Sleep with a full Stomach, and so
+endeavour’d to sleep again, which I did, till a second Time it rouz’d
+me, with <i>Miles</i> twice repeated,&mdash;hazard not thy Life here in
+a foreign Service! Home! to <i>England</i>! to <i>England</i>! to
+<i>England</i>! This disturb’d me much more than at first; but, after I
+had lay’n awake near half an Hour, and heard nothing of it all that
+Time, I&nbsp;assur’d my self ’twas nothing but a Dream, and so once more
+address’d my self to Sleep, which I enjoy’d without Interruption for
+above two Hours; when I was the third Time alarm’d, and that with a
+louder Voice, which cry’d, as twice before, <i>Miles! Miles! Miles!
+Miles!</i> Go Home! Go to <i>England</i>! Hazard not
+thy Soul here! At which I started up, and with a faultering Speech, and
+Eyes half sear’d together, I&nbsp;cry’d, In the Name of Heaven, who
+calls? Thy Father, <i>Miles</i>: Go Home! Go Home! Go Home!
+(it&nbsp;said.) O&nbsp;then I knew, I&nbsp;mean, I&nbsp;thought I knew
+it was my Father’s Voice; and turning to the Bed-Side, from whence the
+Sound proceeded, I&nbsp;saw, these Eyes then open, these very Eyes, at
+least, my Soul saw my Father, my own dear Father, lifting up his joined
+Hands, as if he begg’d me to return to <i>England</i>. I saw
+<span class = "pagenum">505</span>
+him beg it of me.&mdash;O Heaven! The Father begs it of the Son!
+O&nbsp;obstinate, rebellious, cruel, unnatural, barbarous, inhuman Son!
+Why did not I go Home then! Why did I not from that Moment begin my
+Journey to <i>England</i>? But I hope, e’er long, I&nbsp;shall begin a
+better. Here his o’ercharg’d Heart found some little Relief at his Eyes,
+and they confess’d his Mother: But he soon resum’d the Man, and then
+<i>Constance</i> said, Did you ne’er dream of your Sister, Sir? Yes,
+often, Brother, (return’d <i>Miles</i>) but then most particularly,
+before e’er I heard the first Call of the Voice; when (my&nbsp;Thought)
+I&nbsp;saw her in Tears by my Bed Side, kneeling with a Gentleman, whom
+I thought I had once seen; but knew him not then, tho’, now I recal my
+Dream, the Face was exactly yours. ’Twas I, indeed, Sir, (return’d
+<i>Lewis</i>) who bore her Company, with Tears, at your Father’s
+Bed-Side; and at twelve a Clock at Night your Father dy’d. But come,
+Sir, (persu’d&nbsp;he) ’tis now near twelve a Clock, and there is
+Company waits for you at Home, at my House here in Town; I&nbsp;humbly
+beg the Captain’s Leave, that I may rob ’em of so dutiful a Soldier for
+a Week or two. Sir, (return’d the Captain) Sir <i>Miles</i> knows how to
+command himself, and may command us when he pleases. Captain,
+Lieutenant, and Ensign, (reply’d Sir <i>Miles</i>) I am, and ever will
+continue, during Life, your most dutiful Soldier, and your most obedient
+and humble Servant. Thus they parted.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as <i>Constance</i> was got within Doors, his Lady and Sir
+<i>Miles’s</i> Sister, who both did expect him that Night, came running
+into the Hall to welcome <ins class = "correction" title =
+"? in original">him?</ins> his Sister embrac’d and kiss’d him twenty and
+twenty Times again, dropping Tears of Joy and Grief, whilst his Mistress
+stood a little Distance, weeping sincerely for Joy to see her Love
+return’d: But long he did not suffer her in that Posture; for, breaking
+from his Sister’s tender Embraces, with a seasonable Compliment he ran
+to his Mistress, and kneeling, kiss’d her Hand, when she was going to
+kneel
+<span class = "pagenum">506</span>
+to him; which he perceiving, started up and took her in his Arms, and
+there, it may be presum’d, they kiss’d and talk’d prettily; ’till her
+Brother perswaded ’em to retire into the Parlour, where he propos’d to
+’em that they should marry on the very next morning; and accordingly
+they were, after <i>Lewis</i> had deliver’d all Sir <i>Henry’s</i>
+Estate to Sir <i>Miles</i>, and given him Bills on his Banker for the
+Payment of ten thousand Pounds, being the Moiety of Sir <i>Miles’s</i>
+Revenue for five Years. Before they went to Church, Sir <i>Miles</i>,
+who then had on a rich bridal Suit, borrow’d his Brother’s best Coach,
+and both he and <i>Lewis</i> went and fetch’d the Captain, Lieutenant,
+and Ensign, to be Witnesses of their Marriage. The Captain gave the
+Bride, and afterwards they feasted and laugh’d heartily, ’till Twelve at
+Night, when the Bride was put to Bed; and there was not a Officer of ’em
+all, who would not have been glad to have gone to Bed to her; but Sir
+<i>Miles</i> better supply’d their Places.</p>
+
+
+<div class = "textnote">
+
+<h5><a name = "unhappy_notes" id = "unhappy_notes">
+Notes: Critical and Explanatory:</a><br>
+The Unhappy Mistake.</h5>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "unhappy_comm1" id = "unhappy_comm1" href =
+"#unhappy_commtag1">p. 477</a>
+<i>the Jack</i>. The small bowl placed as a mark for the players to aim
+at. cf. <i>Cymbeline</i> ii,&nbsp;<span class = "smallroman">I</span>:
+‘Was there ever man had such luck! when I kissed the jack upon an
+up-cast to be hit away!’</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "unhappy_comm2" id = "unhappy_comm2" href =
+"#unhappy_commtag2">p. 477</a>
+<i>the Block</i>. cf. Florio (1598). ‘<i>Buttino</i>, a maister or
+mistres of boules or coites whereat the plaiers cast or playe; some call
+it the blocke.’</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "unhappy_comm3" id = "unhappy_comm3" href =
+"#unhappy_commtag3">p. 495</a>
+<i>vor Mainly be our Country Word, zure</i>. Wright, <i>English Dialect
+Dictionary</i>, gives apposite quotations for ‘mainly’ from Gloucester,
+<span class = "pagenum">524</span>
+Wilts and Devon. He also has two quotations, Somerset and West Somerset
+for ‘main’ used adverbially. But ‘mainly’ is also quite common in that
+county.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "unhappy_comm4" id = "unhappy_comm4" href =
+"#unhappy_commtag4">p. 495</a>
+<i>the Gun</i>. A well-known house of call. 2 June, 1668, Pepys ‘stopped
+and drank at the Gun’.</p>
+
+<p class = "first">
+<a name = "unhappy_comm5" id = "unhappy_comm5" href =
+"#unhappy_commtag5">p. 496</a>
+<i>a Broad piece</i>. This very common name was ‘applied after the
+introduction of the guinea in 1663 to the “Unite” or 20 shilling pieces
+(Jacobus and Carolus) of the preceeding reigns, which were much broader
+and thinner than the new milled coinage.’</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<span class = "pagenum">507</span>
+<a name = "appendix" id = "appendix">&nbsp;</a>
+
+<h3>APPENDIX.</h3>
+
+<p class = "mynote">
+The <i>Epistle Dedicatory</i> to <i>Oroonoko</i> was printed as an
+Appendix. In keeping with the editor’s intention (see second paragraph
+of <a href = "#app_comm1">Note</a>), it has been placed immediately
+before the novel.</p>
+
+
+<span class = "pagenum">513</span>
+<a name = "notes" id = "notes">&nbsp;</a>
+
+<h3>NOTES.</h3>
+
+<p class = "mynote">
+The <i>Notes</i> come immediately after their respective stories;
+see detailed Table of Contents, below. The heading has been retained for
+completeness.</p>
+
+</div>
+<!-- end div maintext -->
+
+
+<hr class = "mid">
+
+<span class = "pagenum">525</span>
+<p class = "center">
+<i>Printed by <span class = "smallcaps">A. H. Bullen</span>, at the
+Shakespeare Head Press, Stratford-upon-Avon.</i></p>
+
+
+<div class = "endnote">
+
+<h4><a name = "endnotes" id = "endnotes">
+Transcriber’s Notes</a></h4>
+
+<h5>Errors</h5>
+
+<p>Typographical errors were corrected only when unambiguous (“Symrna”),
+or when the expected spelling occurs many times in the book. A few
+variable forms such as “handsom : handsome” are unchanged. In the Notes,
+the abbreviation “cf.” is always lower-case.</p>
+
+<p>Unless otherwise noted, quotation marks are as printed.</p>
+
+<h5>Arrangement of Editor’s Notes</h5>
+
+<p>In the printed book, all notes were grouped at the end of the volume.
+For this e-text, they have been placed after their respective
+stories.</p>
+
+<p>The Notes as printed give only page numbers. Links leading directly
+to the cited text were added by the transcriber. Annotated passages are
+identified in the body text with <a class = "comm" href = "#notes">grey
+underlining</a>.</p>
+
+<p>Where appropriate, cross-references from other volumes of the
+Complete Works are quoted after the Notes. The “N.E.D.” (New English
+Dictionary) is now known as the OED.</p>
+
+<div class = "contents">
+
+<h4><a name = "detail" id = "detail">Full Contents</a></h4>
+
+<p><a href = "#black_lady"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Adventure of the Black Lady</span></a><br>
+<a href = "#black_lady_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#black_lady_notes">Notes</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#king_bantam"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Court of the King Of Bantam</span></a><br>
+<a href = "#bantam_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#bantam_notes">Notes</a><br>
+<a href = "#bantam_crossref">Cross-References</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#happy_lady"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Unfortunate Happy Lady</span>: A True History</a><br>
+<a href = "#happy_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#happy_notes">Notes</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#fair_jilt"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Fair Jilt</span></a><br>
+<a href = "#jilt_intro">Introduction</a><br>
+<a href = "#jilt_dedic">Dedication</a><br>
+<a href = "#jilt_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#jilt_notes">Notes</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#oroonoko"><span class = "smallcaps">
+Oroonoko</span>; or, The Royal Slave</a><br>
+<a href = "#oroonoko_intro">Introduction</a><br>
+<a href = "#oroonoko_dedic">Dedication</a> (printed as Appendix)<br>
+<a href = "#oroonoko_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#oroonoko_notes">Notes</a><br>
+<a href = "#oroonoko_crossref5">Cross-Reference</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#agnes_castro"><span class = "smallcaps">
+Agnes De Castro</span></a><br>
+<a href = "#agnes_intro">Introduction</a><br>
+<a href = "#agnes_main"><i>Main Text</i></a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#history_nun"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The History of the Nun</span>; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker</a><br>
+<a href = "#history_intro">Introduction</a><br>
+<a href = "#history_dedic">Dedication</a><br>
+<a href = "#history_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#history_notes">Notes</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#nun_perjurd"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Nun</span>; or, The Perjur’d Beauty</a><br>
+<a href = "#perjurd_main"><i>Main Text</i></a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#lucky"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Lucky Mistake</span></a><br>
+<a href = "#lucky_dedic">Dedication</a><br>
+<a href = "#lucky_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#lucky_notes">Notes</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#unfortunate"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Unfortunate Bride</span>; or, The Blind Lady a Beauty</a><br>
+<a href = "#unfortunate_dedic">Dedication</a><br>
+<a href = "#unfortunate_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#unfortunate_notes">Notes</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#dumb_virgin"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Dumb Virgin</span>; or, The Force of Imagination</a><br>
+<a href = "#dumb_intro">Introduction</a><br>
+<a href = "#dumb_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#dumb_notes">Notes</a><br>
+<a href = "#dumb_crossref">Cross-Reference</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#wandering"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Wandering Beauty</span></a><br>
+<a href = "#wandering_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#wandering_notes">Notes</a></p>
+
+<p><a href = "#unhappy"><span class = "smallcaps">
+The Unhappy Mistake</span>; or, The Impious Vow Punish’d</a><br>
+<a href = "#unhappy_main"><i>Main Text</i></a><br>
+<a href = "#unhappy_notes">Notes</a></p>
+
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<!-- end div endnote -->
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Works of Aphra Behn
+       Volume V
+
+Author: Aphra Behn
+
+Editor: Montague Summers
+
+Release Date: August 30, 2009 [EBook #29854]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF APHRA BEHN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Louise Hope, Wendy Bertsch and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[This e-text comes in three forms: Unicode (UTF-8), Latin-1 and ASCII-7.
+Use the one that works best on your text reader.
+
+  --If "oe" displays as a single character, and apostrophes and
+  quotation marks are "curly" or angled, you have the UTF-8 version
+  (best). If any part of this paragraph displays as garbage, try
+  changing your text reader's "character set" or "file encoding".
+  If that doesn't work, proceed to:
+  --In the Latin-1 version, "oe" is two letters, but French words like
+  "role" and "mere" have accents and "ae" is a single letter. Apostrophes
+  and quotation marks will be straight ("typewriter" form). Again, if
+  you see any garbage in this paragraph and can't get it to display
+  properly, use:
+  --The ASCII-7 or rock-bottom version. All necessary text will still be
+  there; it just won't be as pretty. Note that in the Introduction to
+  "Agnes de Castro", the name "Constanca" has a cedilla and "Penafiel"
+  has a tilde.
+
+In the printed book, all notes were grouped at the end of the volume.
+For this e-text, they have been placed after their respective stories.
+The _Epistle Dedicatory_ to _Oroonoko_ was printed as an Appendix. In
+keeping with the editor's intention (see second paragraph of Note),
+it has been placed immediately before the novel.
+
+Where appropriate, cross-references from other volumes of the Complete
+Works are quoted after the Notes. The "N.E.D." (New English Dictionary)
+is now known as the OED.
+
+Typographic note: In the printed book, all references to plays give the
+Act in lower-case Roman numerals and the Scene in small capital Roman
+numerals; the two look identical except for the dots over the i's. For
+this plain-text version, the conventional "IV, iv" sequence was used
+instead. Italic passages used Roman type for emphasis; this is shown
+as +Name+.]
+
+
+
+
+                   THE WORKS
+
+                       of
+
+                   APHRA BEHN
+
+
+                   Edited by
+                MONTAGUE SUMMERS
+
+                     VOL. V
+
+  The Black Lady -- The King of Bantam
+  The Unfortunate Happy Lady -- The Fair Jilt
+  Oroonoko -- Agnes de Castro
+  The History of the Nun -- The Nun
+  The Lucky Mistake -- The Unfortunate Bride
+  The Dumb Virgin -- The Wandering Beauty
+  The Unhappy Mistake
+
+
+       [Illustration: (Publisher's Device)]
+
+           LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
+        STRATFORD-ON-AVON: A. H. BULLEN
+                     MCMXV
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+[See Transcriber's Note at beginning of text for handling of Notes
+and Appendix.]
+
+                                                            Page
+
+  The Adventure of the Black Lady                              1
+  The Court of the King of Bantam                             11
+  The Unfortunate Happy Lady: A True History                  35
+  The Fair Jilt                                               67
+  Oroonoko; or, The Royal Slave                              125
+  Agnes De Castro                                            209
+  The History of the Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker           257
+  The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty                           325
+  The Lucky Mistake                                          349
+  The Unfortunate Bride; or, The Blind Lady a Beauty         399
+  The Dumb Virgin; or, The Force of Imagination              415
+  The Wandering Beauty                                       445
+  The Unhappy Mistake; or, The Impious Vow Punish'd          469
+  Appendix                                                   507
+  Notes                                                      513
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE ADVENTURE OF THE _BLACK LADY_.
+
+
+About the Beginning of last _June_ (as near as I can remember)
+_Bellamora_ came to Town from _Hampshire_, and was obliged to lodge the
+first Night at the same Inn where the Stage-Coach set up. The next Day
+she took Coach for _Covent-Garden_, where she thought to find Madam
+_Brightly_, a Relation of hers, with whom she design'd to continue for
+about half a Year undiscover'd, if possible, by her Friends in the
+Country: and order'd therefore her Trunk, with her Clothes, and most of
+her Money and Jewels, to be brought after her to Madame _Brightly's_ by
+a strange Porter, whom she spoke to in the Street as she was taking
+Coach; being utterly unacquainted with the neat Practices of this fine
+City. When she came to _Bridges-Street_, where indeed her Cousin had
+lodged near three or four Years since, she was strangely surprized that
+she could not learn anything of her; no, nor so much as meet with anyone
+that had ever heard of her Cousin's Name: Till, at last, describing
+Madam _Brightly_ to one of the House-keepers in that Place, he told her,
+that there was such a kind of Lady, whom he had sometimes seen there
+about a Year and a half ago; but that he believed she was married and
+remov'd towards _Soho_. In this Perplexity she quite forgot her Trunk
+and Money, _&c_, and wander'd in her Hackney-Coach all over St. _Anne's_
+Parish; inquiring for Madam _Brightly_, still describing her Person, but
+in vain; for no Soul could give her any Tale or Tidings of such a Lady.
+After she had thus fruitlessly rambled, till she, the Coachman, and the
+very Horses were even tired, by good Fortune for her, she happen'd on a
+private House, where lived a good, discreet, ancient Gentlewoman, who
+was fallen to Decay, and forc'd to let Lodgings for the best Part of her
+Livelihood: From whom she understood, that there was such a kind of
+Lady, who had lain there somewhat more than a Twelvemonth, being near
+three Months after she was married; but that she was now gone abroad
+with the Gentleman her Husband, either to the Play, or to take the fresh
+Air; and she believ'd would not return till Night. This Discourse of the
+Good Gentlewoman's so elevated _Bellamora's_ drooping Spirits, that
+after she had beg'd the liberty of staying there till they came home,
+she discharg'd the Coachman in all haste, still forgetting her Trunk,
+and the more valuable Furniture of it.
+
+When they were alone, _Bellamora_ desired she might be permitted the
+Freedom to send for a Pint of Sack; which, with some little Difficulty,
+was at last allow'd her. They began then to chat for a matter of half an
+Hour of things indifferent: and at length the ancient Gentlewoman ask'd
+the fair Innocent (I must not say foolish) one, of what Country, and
+what her Name was: to both which she answer'd directly and truly, tho'
+it might have prov'd not discreetly. She then enquir'd of _Bellamora_ if
+her Parents were living, and the Occasion of her coming to Town. The
+fair unthinking Creature reply'd, that her Father and Mother were both
+dead; and that she had escap'd from her Uncle, under the pretence of
+making a Visit to a young Lady, her Cousin, who was lately married, and
+liv'd above twenty Miles from her Uncle's, in the Road to _London_, and
+that the Cause of her quitting the Country, was to avoid the hated
+Importunities of a Gentleman, whose pretended Love to her she fear'd had
+been her eternal Ruin. At which she wept and sigh'd most extravagantly.
+The discreet Gentlewoman endeavour'd to comfort her by all the softest
+and most powerful Arguments in her Capacity; promising her all the
+friendly Assistance that she could expect from her, during _Bellamora's_
+stay in Town: which she did with so much Earnestness, and visible
+Integrity, that the pretty innocent Creature was going to make her a
+full and real Discovery of her imaginary insupportable Misfortunes; and
+(doubtless) had done it, had she not been prevented by the Return of the
+Lady, whom she hop'd to have found her Cousin _Brightly_. The Gentleman,
+her Husband just saw her within Doors, and order'd the Coach to drive to
+some of his Bottle-Companions; which gave the Women the better
+Opportunity of entertaining one another, which happen'd to be with some
+Surprize on all Sides. As the Lady was going up into her Apartment, the
+Gentlewoman of the House told her there was a young Lady in the Parlour,
+who came out of the Country that very Day on purpose to visit her: The
+Lady stept immediately to see who it was, and _Bellamora_ approaching to
+receive her hop'd-for Cousin, stop'd on the sudden just as she came to
+her; and sigh'd out aloud, Ah, Madam! I am lost--It is not your Ladyship
+I seek. No, Madam (return'd the other) I am apt to think you did not
+intend me this Honour. But you are as welcome to me, as you could be to
+the dearest of your Acquaintance: Have you forgot me, Madame
+_Bellamora_? (continued she.) That Name startled the other: However, it
+was with a kind of Joy. Alas! Madam, (replied the young one) I now
+remember that I have been so happy to have seen you; but where and when,
+my Memory can't tell me. 'Tis indeed some Years since, (return'd the
+Lady) But of that another time.--Mean while, if you are unprovided of a
+Lodging, I dare undertake, you shall be welcome to this Gentlewoman. The
+Unfortunate returned her Thanks; and whilst a Chamber was preparing for
+her, the Lady entertain'd her in her own. About Ten o'Clock they parted,
+_Bellamora_ being conducted to her Lodging by the Mistress of the House,
+who then left her to take what Rest she could amidst her so many
+Misfortunes; returning to the other Lady, who desir'd her to search into
+the Cause of _Bellamora's_ Retreat to Town.
+
+The next Morning the good Gentlewoman of the House coming up to her,
+found _Bellamora_ almost drown'd in Tears, which by many kind and sweet
+Words she at last stopp'd; and asking whence so great Signs of Sorrow
+should proceed, vow'd a most profound Secrecy if she would discover to
+her their Occasion; which, after some little Reluctancy, she did, in
+this manner.
+
+I was courted (said she) above three Years ago, when my Mother was yet
+living, by one Mr. _Fondlove_, a Gentleman of good Estate, and true
+Worth; and one who, I dare believe, did then really love me: He
+continu'd his Passion for me, with all the earnest and honest
+Sollicitations imaginable, till some Months before my Mother's Death;
+who, at that time, was most desirous to see me disposed of in Marriage
+to another Gentleman, of much better Estate than Mr. _Fondlove_; but one
+whose Person and Humour did by no means hit with my Inclinations: And
+this gave _Fondlove_ the unhappy Advantage over me. For, finding me one
+Day all alone in my Chamber, and lying on my Bed, in as mournful and
+wretched a Condition to my then foolish Apprehension, as now I am, he
+urged his Passion with such Violence, and accursed Success for me, with
+reiterated Promises of Marriage, whensoever I pleas'd to challenge 'em,
+which he bound with the most sacred Oaths, and most dreadful
+Execrations: that partly with my Aversion to the other, and partly with
+my Inclinations to pity him, I ruin'd my self.--Here she relaps'd into a
+greater Extravagance of Grief than before; which was so extreme that it
+did not continue long. When therefore she was pretty well come to
+herself, the antient Gentlewoman ask'd her, why she imagin'd herself
+ruin'd: To which she answer'd, I am great with Child by him, Madam, and
+wonder you did not perceive it last Night. Alas! I have not a Month to
+go: I am asham'd, ruin'd, and damn'd, I fear, for ever lost. Oh! fie,
+Madam, think not so, (said the other) for the Gentleman may yet prove
+true, and marry you. Ay, Madam (replied _Bellamora_) I doubt not that he
+would marry me; for soon after my Mother's Death, when I came to be at
+my own Disposal, which happen'd about two Months after, he offer'd, nay
+most earnestly sollicited me to it, which still he perseveres to do.
+This is strange! (return'd the other) and it appears to me to be your
+own Fault, that you are yet miserable. Why did you not, or why will you
+not consent to your own Happiness? Alas! (cry'd _Bellamora_) 'tis the
+only Thing I dread in this World: For, I am certain, he can never love
+me after. Besides, ever since I have abhorr'd the Sight of him: and this
+is the only Cause that obliges me to forsake my Uncle, and all my
+Friends and Relations in the Country, hoping in this populous and
+publick Place to be most private, especially, Madam, in your House, and
+in your Fidelity and Discretion. Of the last you may assure yourself,
+Madam, (said the other:) but what Provision have you made for the
+Reception of the young Stranger that you carry about you? Ah, Madam!
+(cryd _Bellamora_) you have brought to my Mind another Misfortune: Then
+she acquainted her with the suppos'd loss of her Money and Jewels,
+telling her withall, that she had but three Guineas and some Silver
+left, and the Rings she wore, in her present possession. The good
+Gentlewoman of the House told her, she would send to enquire at the Inn
+where she lay the first Night she came to Town; for, haply, they might
+give some Account of the Porter to whom she had entrusted her Trunk; and
+withal repeated her Promise of all the Help in her Power, and for that
+time left her much more compos'd than she found her. The good
+Gentlewoman went directly to the other Lady, her Lodger, to whom she
+recounted _Bellamora's_ mournful Confession; at which the Lady appear'd
+mightily concern'd: and at last she told her Landlady, that she would
+take Care that _Bellamora_ should lie in according to her Quality: For,
+added she, the Child, it seems, is my own Brother's.
+
+As soon as she had din'd, she went to the _Exchange_, and bought
+Child-bed Linen; but desired that _Bellamora_ might not have the least
+Notice of it: And at her return dispatch'd a Letter to her Brother
+_Fondlove_ in _Hampshire_, with an Account of every Particular; which
+soon brought him up to Town, without satisfying any of his or her
+Friends with the Reason of his sudden Departure. Mean while,
+the good Gentlewoman of the House had sent to the _Star Inn_ on
+_Fish-street-Hill_, to demand the Trunk, which she rightly suppos'd to
+have been carried back thither: For by good Luck, it was a Fellow that
+ply'd thereabouts, who brought it to _Bellamora's_ Lodgings that very
+Night, but unknown to her. _Fondlove_ no sooner got to _London_, but he
+posts to his Sister's Lodgings, where he was advis'd not to be seen of
+_Bellamora_ till they had work'd farther upon her, which the Landlady
+began in this manner; she told her that her Things were miscarried, and
+she fear'd, lost; that she had but a little Money her self, and if the
+Overseers of the Poor (justly so call'd from their over-looking 'em)
+should have the least Suspicion of a strange and unmarried Person, who
+was entertain'd in her House big with Child, and so near her Time as
+_Bellamora_ was, she should be troubled, if they could not give Security
+to the Parish of twenty or thirty Pounds, that they should not suffer by
+her, which she could not; or otherwise she must be sent to the House of
+Correction, and her Child to a Parish-Nurse. This Discourse, one may
+imagine, was very dreadful to a Person of her Youth, Beauty, Education,
+Family and Estate: However, she resolutely protested, that she had
+rather undergo all this, than be expos'd to the Scorn of her Friends and
+Relations in the Country. The other told her then, that she must write
+down to her Uncle a Farewell-Letter, as if she were just going aboard
+the Pacquet-Boat for _Holland_, that he might not send to enquire for
+her in Town, when he should understand she was not at her new-married
+Cousin's in the Country; which accordingly she did, keeping her self
+close Prisoner to her Chamber; where she was daily visited by
+_Fondlove's_ Sister and the Landlady, but by no Soul else, the first
+dissembling the Knowledge she had of her Misfortunes. Thus she continued
+for above three Weeks, not a Servant being suffer'd to enter her
+Chamber, so much as to make her Bed, lest they should take Notice of her
+great Belly: but for all this Caution, the Secret had taken Wind, by the
+means of an Attendant of the other Lady below, who had over-heard her
+speaking of it to her Husband. This soon got out of Doors, and spread
+abroad, till it reach'd the long Ears of the Wolves of the Parish, who
+next Day design'd to pay her a Visit: But _Fondlove_, by good
+Providence, prevented it; who, the Night before, was usher'd into
+_Bellamora's_ Chamber by his Sister, his Brother-in-Law, and the
+Landlady. At the Sight of him she had like to have swoon'd away: but he
+taking her in his Arms, began again, as he was wont to do, with Tears in
+his Eyes, to beg that she would marry him ere she was deliver'd; if not
+for his, nor her own, yet for the Child's Sake, which she hourly
+expected; that it might not be born out of Wedlock, and so be made
+uncapable of inheriting either of their Estates; with a great many more
+pressing Arguments on all Sides: To which at last she consented; and an
+honest officious Gentleman, whom they had before provided, was call'd
+up, who made an End of the Dispute: So to Bed they went together that
+Night; next Day to the _Exchange_, for several pretty Businesses that
+Ladies in her Condition want. Whilst they were abroad, came the Vermin
+of the Parish, (I mean, the Overseers of the Poor, who eat the Bread
+from 'em) to search for a young Blackhair'd Lady (for so was
+_Bellamora_) who was either brought to Bed, or just ready to lie down.
+The Landlady shew'd 'em all the Rooms in her House, but no such Lady
+could be found. At last she bethought her self, and led 'em into her
+Parlour, where she open'd a little Closet-door, and shew'd 'em a black
+Cat that had just kitten'd: assuring 'em, that she should never trouble
+the Parish as long as she had Rats or Mice in the House; and so
+dismiss'd 'em like Loggerheads as they came.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Black Lady.
+
+
+p. 3 _Bridges-Street._ Brydges Street lies between Russell Street and
+Catherine Street. Drury Lane Theatre is at its N.E. corner. It early
+acquired no very enviable repute, e.g. In the Epilogue to Crowne's _Sir
+Courtly Nice_ (1685) we have: 'Our Bridges Street is grown a strumpet
+fair'; and Dryden, in the Epilogue to _King Arthur_ (1691), gave Mrs.
+Bracegirdle, who entered, her hands full of billets-doux, the following
+lines to speak:--
+
+  Here one desires my ladyship to meet  [_Pulls out one._
+  At the kind couch above in Bridges-Street.
+  Oh sharping knave! that would have--you know what,
+  For a poor sneaking treat of chocolate.
+
+p. 8 _Star-Inn on Fish-street-Hill._ Fish Street Hill, or, New Fish
+Street, runs from Eastcheap to Lower Thames Street, and was the main
+thoroughfare to old London Bridge, cf. 2 _Henry VI_, IV, viii: '_Cade._
+Up Fish Street! down St. Magnus' corner! kill and knock down! throw them
+into the Thames.'
+
+p. 9 _the Exchange._ The New Exchange, a kind of bazaar on the South
+side of the Strand. It was an immensely popular resort, and continued so
+until the latter years of the reign of Queen Anne. There are innumerable
+references to its shops, its sempstresses and haberdashers. Thomas
+Duffet was a milliner here before he took to writing farces, prologues
+and poems.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE COURT OF THE KING OF _BANTAM_.
+
+
+This Money certainly is a most devilish Thing! I'm sure the Want of it
+had like to have ruin'd my dear _Philibella_, in her Love to _Valentine
+Goodland_; who was really a pretty deserving Gentleman, Heir to about
+fifteen hundred Pounds a Year; which, however, did not so much recommend
+him, as the Sweetness of his Temper, the Comeliness of his Person, and
+the Excellency of his Parts: In all which Circumstances my obliging
+Acquaintance equal'd him, unless in the Advantage of their Fortune. Old
+Sir _George Goodland_ knew of his Son's Passion for _Philibella_; and
+tho' he was generous, and of a Humour sufficiently complying, yet he
+could by no means think it convenient, that his only Son should marry
+with a young Lady of so slender a Fortune as my Friend, who had not
+above five hundred Pound, and that the Gift of her Uncle Sir _Philip
+Friendly_: tho' her Virtue and Beauty might have deserv'd, and have
+adorn'd the Throne of an _Alexander_ or a _Caesar_.
+
+Sir _Philip_ himself, indeed, was but a younger Brother, tho' of a good
+Family, and of a generous Education; which, with his Person, Bravery,
+and Wit, recommended him to his Lady _Philadelphia_, Widow of Sir
+_Bartholomew Banquier_, who left her possess'd of two thousand Pounds
+_per Annum_, besides twenty thousand Pounds in Money and Jewels; which
+oblig'd him to get himself dubb'd, that she might not descend to an
+inferior Quality. When he was in Town, he liv'd--let me see! in the
+_Strand_; or, as near as I can remember, somewhere about
+_Charing-Cross_; where first of all Mr. _Would-be King_, a Gentleman of
+a large Estate in Houses, Land and Money, of a haughty, extravagant and
+profuse Humour, very fond of every new Face, had the Misfortune to fall
+passionately in love with _Philibella_, who then liv'd with her Uncle.
+
+This Mr. _Would-be_ it seems had often been told, when he was yet a
+Stripling, either by one of his Nurses, or his own Grandmother, or by
+some other Gypsy, that he should infallibly be what his Sirname imply'd,
+a King, by Providence or Chance, ere he dy'd, or never. This glorious
+Prophecy had so great an Influence on all his Thoughts and Actions, that
+he distributed and dispers'd his Wealth sometimes so largely, that one
+would have thought he had undoubtedly been King of some Part of the
+_Indies_; to see a Present made to-day of a Diamond Ring, worth two or
+three hundred Pounds, to Madam _Flippant_; to-morrow, a large Chest of
+the finest _China_ to my Lady _Fleecewell_; and next Day, perhaps,
+a rich Necklace of large Oriental Pearl, with a Locket to it of
+Saphires, Emeralds, Rubies, &c., to pretty Miss _Ogle-me_, for an
+amorous Glance, for a Smile, and (it may be, tho' but rarely) for the
+mighty Blessing of one single Kiss. But such were his Largesses, not to
+reckon his Treats, his Balls, and Serenades besides, tho' at the same
+time he had marry'd a virtuous Lady, and of good Quality: But her
+Relation to him (it may be fear'd) made her very disagreeable: For a Man
+of his Humour and Estate can no more be satisfy'd with one Woman, than
+with one Dish of Meat; and to say Truth, 'tis something unmodish.
+However, he might have dy'd a pure Celibate, and altogether unexpert of
+Women, had his good or bad Hopes only terminated in Sir _Philip's_
+Niece. But the brave and haughty Mr. _Would-be_ was not to be baulk'd by
+Appearances of Virtue, which he thought all Womankind only did affect;
+besides, he promis'd himself the Victory over any Lady whom he
+attempted, by the Force of his damn'd Money, tho' her Virtue were ever
+so real and strict.
+
+With _Philibella_ he found another pretty young Creature, very like her,
+who had been a _quondam_ Mistress to Sir _Philip_: He, with young
+_Goodland_, was then diverting his Mistress and Niece at a Game at
+Cards, when _Would-be_ came to visit him; he found 'em very merry, with
+a Flask or two of Claret before 'em, and Oranges roasting by a large
+Fire, for it was _Christmas-time_. The Lady _Friendly_ understanding
+that this extraordinary Man was with Sir _Philip_ in the Parlour, came
+in to 'em, to make the number of both Sexes equal, as well as in Hopes
+to make up a Purse of Guineas toward the Purchase of some new fine
+Business that she had in her Head, from his accustom'd Design of losing
+at Play to her. Indeed, she had Part of her Wish, for she got twenty
+Guineas of him; _Philibella_ ten; and _Lucy_, Sir _Philip's_ quondam,
+five: Not but that _Would-be_ intended better Fortune to the young ones,
+than he did to Sir _Philip's_ Lady; but her Ladyship was utterly
+unwilling to give him over to their Management, tho' at the last, when
+they were all tir'd with the Cards, after _Would-be_ had said as many
+obliging things as his present Genius would give him leave, to
+_Philibella_ and _Lucy_, especially to the first, not forgetting his
+Baisemains to the Lady _Friendly_, he bid the Knight and _Goodland_
+adieu; but with a Promise of repeating his Visit at six a-clock in the
+Evening on _Twelfth-Day_, to renew the famous and antient Solemnity of
+chusing King and Queen; to which Sir _Philip_ before invited him, with a
+Design yet unknown to you, I hope.
+
+As soon as he was gone, every one made their Remarks on him, but with
+very little or no Difference in all their Figures of him. In short, all
+Mankind, had they ever known him, would have universally agreed in this
+his Character, That he was an Original; since nothing in Humanity was
+ever so vain, so haughty, so profuse, so fond, and so ridiculously
+ambitious, as Mr. _Would-be King_. They laugh'd and talk'd about an Hour
+longer, and then young _Goodland_ was oblig'd to see _Lucy_ home in his
+Coach; tho' he had rather have sat up all Night in the same House with
+_Philibella_, I fancy, of whom he took but an unwilling Leave; which was
+visible enough to every one there, since they were all acquainted with
+his Passion for my fair Friend.
+
+About twelve a-clock on the Day prefix'd, young _Goodland_ came to dine
+with Sir _Philip_, whom he found just return'd from Court, in a very
+good Humour. On the Sight of _Valentine_, the Knight ran to him, and
+embracing him, told him, That he had prevented his Wishes, in coming
+thither before he sent for him, as he had just then design'd. The other
+return'd, that he therefore hoped he might be of some Service to him, by
+so happy a Prevention of his intended Kindness. No doubt (reply'd Sir
+_Philip_) the Kindness, I hope, will be to us both; I am assur'd it
+will, if you will act according to my Measures. I desire no better
+Prescriptions for my Happiness (return'd _Valentine_) than what you
+shall please to set down to me: But is it necessary or convenient that I
+should know 'em first? It is, (answer'd Sir _Philip_) let us sit, and
+you shall understand 'em.--I am very sensible (continu'd he) of your
+sincere and honourable Affection and Pretension to my Niece, who,
+perhaps, is as dear to me as my own Child could be, had I one; nor am I
+ignorant how averse Sir _George_ your Father is to your Marriage with
+her, insomuch that I am confident he would disinherit you immediately
+upon it, merely for want of a Fortune somewhat proportionable to your
+Estate: but I have now contrived the Means to add two or three thousand
+Pounds to the five hundred I have design'd to give with her; I mean, if
+you marry her, _Val_, not otherwise; for I will not labour so for any
+other Man. What inviolable Obligations you put upon me! (cry'd
+_Goodland_.) No Return, by way of Compliments, good _Val_, (said the
+Knight:) Had I not engag'd to my Wife, before Marriage, that I would not
+dispose of any part of what she brought me, without her Consent, I would
+certainly make _Philibella's_ Fortune answerable to your Estate: And
+besides, my Wife is not yet full eight and twenty, and we may therefore
+expect Children of our own, which hinders me from proposing any thing
+more for the Advantage of my Niece.--But now to my Instructions;--_King_
+will be here this Evening without fail, and, at some Time or other
+to-night, will shew the Haughtiness of his Temper to you, I doubt not,
+since you are in a manner a Stranger to him: Be sure therefore you seem
+to quarrel with him before you part, but suffer as much as you can first
+from his Tongue; for I know he will give you Occasions enough to
+exercise your passive Valour. I must appear his Friend, and you must
+retire Home, if you please, for this Night, but let me see you as early
+as your Convenience will permit to-morrow: my late Friend _Lucy_ must be
+my Niece too. Observe this, and leave the rest to me. I shall most
+punctually, and will in all things be directed by you, (said
+_Valentine_.) I had forgot to tell you (said _Friendly_) that I have so
+order'd matters, that he must be King to-night, and _Lucy_ Queen, by the
+Lots in the Cake. By all means (return'd _Goodland_;) it must be
+Majesty.
+
+Exactly at six a'clock came _Wou'd-be_ in his Coach and six, and found
+Sir _Philip_, and his Lady, _Goodland_, _Philibella_, and _Lucy_ ready
+to receive him; _Lucy_ as fine as a Dutchess, and almost as beautiful as
+she was before her Fall. All things were in ample Order for his
+Entertainment. They play'd till Supper was serv'd in, which was between
+eight and nine. The Treat was very seasonable and splendid. Just as the
+second Course was set on the Table, they were all on a sudden surpriz'd,
+except _Would-be_, with a Flourish of Violins, and other Instruments,
+which proceeded to entertain 'em with the best and newest Airs in the
+last new Plays, being then in the Year 1683. The Ladies were curious to
+know to whom they ow'd the chearful part of their Entertainment: On
+which he call'd out, Hey! _Tom Farmer! Ale-worth! Eccles! Hall!_ and the
+rest of you! Here's a Health to these Ladies, and all this honourable
+Company. They bow'd; he drank, and commanded another Glass to be fill'd,
+into which he put something yet better than the Wine, I mean, ten
+Guineas: Here, _Farmer_, (said he then) this for you and your Friends.
+We humbly thank the honourable Mr. _Would-be King_. They all return'd,
+and struck up with more Spriteliness than before. For Gold and Wine,
+doubtless, are the best Rosin for Musicians.
+
+After Supper they took a hearty Glass or two to the King, Queen, Duke,
+&c. And then the mighty Cake, teeming with the Fate of this
+extraordinary Personage, was brought in, the Musicians playing an
+Overture at the Entrance of the _Alimental Oracle_; which was then cut
+and consulted, and the royal Bean and Pea fell to those to whom Sir
+_Philip_ had design'd 'em. 'Twas then the Knight began a merry Bumper,
+with three Huzza's, and, _Long live King +Would-be!+_ to _Goodland_, who
+echo'd and pledg'd him, putting the Glass about to the harmonious
+Attendants; while the Ladies drank their own Quantities among
+themselves, _To his aforesaid Majesty_. Then of course you may believe
+Queen _Lucy's_ Health went merrily round, with the same Ceremony: After
+which he saluted his Royal Consort, and condescended to do the same
+Honour to the two other Ladies.
+
+Then they fell a dancing, like Lightning; I mean, they mov'd as swift,
+and made almost as little Noise; But his Majesty was soon weary of that;
+for he long'd to be making love both to _Philibella_ and _Lucy_, who
+(believe me) that Night might well enough have passed for a Queen.
+
+They fell then to Questions and Commands; to cross Purposes: _I think a
+Thought, what is it like?_ &c. In all which, his _Would-be_ Majesty took
+the Opportunity of shewing the Excellency of his Parts, as, How fit he
+was to govern! How dextrous at mining and countermining! and, How he
+could reconcile the most contrary and distant Thoughts! The Musick, at
+last, good as it was, grew troublesome and too loud; which made him
+dismiss them: And then he began to this effect, addressing himself to
+_Philibella_: Madam, had Fortune been just, and were it possible that
+the World should be govern'd and influenc'd by two Suns, undoubtedly we
+had all been Subjects to you, from this Night's Chance, as well as to
+that Lady, who indeed alone can equal you in the Empire of Beauty, which
+yet you share with her Majesty here present, who only could dispute it
+with you, and is only superior to you in Title. My Wife is infinitely
+oblig'd to your Majesty, (interrupted Sir _Philip_) who in my Opinion,
+has greater Charms, and more than both of them together. You ought to
+think so, Sir _Philip_ (returned the new dubb'd King) however you should
+not liberally have express'd your self, in Opposition and Derogation to
+Majesty:--Let me tell you 'tis a saucy Boldness that thus has loos'd
+your Tongue!--What think you, young Kinsman and Counsellor? (said he to
+_Goodland_.) With all Respect due to your sacred Title, (return'd
+_Valentene_, rising and bowing) Sir _Philip_ spoke as became a truly
+affectionate Husband; and it had been Presumption in him, unpardonable,
+to have seem'd to prefer her Majesty, or that other sweet Lady, in his
+Thoughts, since your Majesty has been pleas'd to say so much and so
+particularly of their Merits: 'Twould appear as if he durst lift up his
+Eyes, with Thoughts too near the Heaven you only would enjoy. And only
+can deserve, you should have added, (said _King_, no longer _Would-be_.)
+How! may it please your Majesty (cry'd _Friendly_) both my Nieces! tho'
+you deserve ten thousand more, and better, would your Majesty enjoy them
+both? Are they then both your Nieces? (asked Chance's King). Yes, both,
+Sir (return'd the Knight,) her Majesty's the eldest, and in that Fortune
+has shewn some Justice. So she has (reply'd the titular Monarch): My Lot
+is fair (pursu'd he) tho' I can be bless'd but with one.
+
+  _Let Majesty with Majesty be join'd,
+  To get and leave a Race of Kings behind._
+
+Come, Madam (continued he, kissing _Lucy_,) this, as an Earnest of our
+future Endeavours. I fear (return'd the pretty Queen) your Majesty will
+forget the unhappy _Statira_, when you return to the Embraces of your
+dear and beautiful _Roxana_. There is none beautiful but you (reply'd
+the titular King) unless this Lady, to whom I yet could pay my Vows most
+zealously, were't not that Fortune has thus pre-engaged me. But, Madam
+(continued he) to shew that still you hold our Royal Favour, and that,
+next to our Royal Consort, we esteem you, we greet you thus (kissing
+_Philibella_;) and as a Signal of our continued Love, wear this rich
+Diamond: (here he put a Diamond Ring on her Finger, worth three hundred
+Pounds.) Your Majesty (pursu'd he to _Lucy_) may please to wear this
+Necklace, with this Locket of Emeralds. Your Majesty is bounteous as a
+God! (said _Valentine_.) Art thou in Want, young Spark? (ask'd the King
+of _Bantam_) I'll give thee an Estate shall make thee merit the Mistress
+of thy Vows, be she who she will. That is my other Niece, Sir, (cry'd
+_Friendly_.) How! how! presumptious Youth! How are thy Eyes and Thoughts
+exalted? ha! To Bliss your Majesty must never hope for, (reply'd
+_Goodland_.) How now! thou Creature of the basest Mold! Not hope for
+what thou dost aspire to! _Mock-King_; thou canst not, dar'st not, shalt
+not hope it: (return'd _Valentine_ in a heat.) Hold, _Val_, (cry'd Sir
+_Philip_) you grow warm, forget your Duty to their Majesties, and abuse
+your Friends, by making us suspected. Good-night, dear _Philibella_, and
+my Queen! Madam, I am your Ladyship's Servant (said _Goodland_:)
+Farewel, Sir _Philip_: Adieu, thou Pageant! thou Property-King! I shall
+see thy Brother on the Stage ere long; but first I'll visit thee: and in
+the meantime, by way of Return to thy proffer'd Estate, I shall add a
+real Territory to the rest of thy empty Titles; for from thy Education,
+barbarous manner of Conversation, and Complexion, I think I may justly
+proclaim thee, _King of +Bantam+_--So, _Hail, King that Would-be! Hail
+thou King of +Christmas+! All-hail, Wou'd-be King of +Bantam+_--and so
+he left 'em.--They all seem'd amazed, and gaz'd on one another, without
+speaking a Syllable; 'till Sir _Philip_ broke the Charm, and sigh'd out,
+Oh, the monstrous Effects of Passion! Say rather, Oh, the foolish
+Effects of a mean Education! (interrupted his Majesty of _Bantam_.) For
+Passions were given us for Use, Reason to govern and direct us in the
+Use, and Education to cultivate and refine that Reason. But (pursu'd he)
+for all his Impudence to me, which I shall take a time to correct, I am
+oblig'd to him, that at last he has found me out a Kingdom to my Title;
+and if I were Monarch of that Place (believe me, Ladies) I would make
+you all Princesses and Duchesses; and thou, my old Companion,
+_Friendly_, should rule the Roast with me. But these Ladies should be
+with us there, where we could erect Temples and Altars to 'em; build
+Golden Palaces of Love, and Castles--in the Air (interrupted her
+Majesty, _Lucy_ I. smiling.) 'Gad take me (cry'd King _Wou'd-be_) thou
+dear Partner of my Greatness, and shalt be, of all my Pleasures! thy
+pretty satirical Observation has oblig'd me beyond Imitation.' I think
+your Majesty is got into a Vein of Rhiming to-night, (said
+_Philadelphia_.) Ay! Pox of that young insipid Fop, we could else have
+been as great as an Emperor of _China_, and as witty as _Horace_ in his
+Wine; but let him go, like a pragmatical, captious, giddy Fool as he is!
+I shall take a Time to see him. Nay, Sir, (said _Philibella_) he has
+promis'd your Majesty a Visit in our Hearing. Come, Sir, I beg your
+Majesty to pledge me this Glass to your long and happy Reign; laying
+aside all Thoughts of ungovern'd Youth: Besides, this Discourse must
+needs be ungrateful to her Majesty, to whom, I fear, he will be marry'd
+within this Month! How! (cry'd _King and no King_) married to my Queen!
+I must not, cannot suffer it! Pray restrain your self a little, Sir
+(said Sir _Philip_) and when once these Ladies have left us, I will
+discourse your Majesty further about this Business. Well, pray, Sir
+_Philip_, (said his Lady) let not your Worship be pleas'd to sit up too
+long for his Majesty: About five o'Clock I shall expect you; 'tis your
+old Hour. And yours, Madam, to wake to receive me coming to Bed--Your
+Ladyship understands me, (return'd _Friendly_.) You're merry, my Love,
+you're merry, (cry'd _Philadelphia_:) Come, Niece, to Bed! to Bed! Ay,
+(said the Knight) Go, both of you and sleep together, if you can,
+without the Thoughts of a Lover, or a Husband. His Majesty was pleas'd
+to wish them a good Repose; and so, with a Kiss, they parted for that
+time.
+
+Now we're alone (said Sir _Philip_) let me assure you, Sir, I resent
+this Affront done to you by Mr. _Goodland_, almost as highly as you can:
+and tho' I can't wish that you should take such Satisfaction, as perhaps
+some other hotter Sparks would; yet let me say, his Miscarriage ought
+not to go unpunish'd in him. Fear not (reply'd t'other) I shall give him
+a sharp Lesson. No, Sir (return'd _Friendly_) I would not have you think
+of a bloody Revenge; for 'tis that which possibly he designs on you:
+I know him brave as any Man. However, were it convenient that the Sword
+should determine betwixt you, you should not want mine: The Affront is
+partly to me, since done in my House; but I've already laid down safer
+Measures for us, tho' of more fatal Consequence to him: that is, I've
+form'd them in my Thoughts. Dismiss your Coach and Equipage, all but one
+Servant, and I will discourse it to you at large. 'Tis now past Twelve;
+and if you please, I would invite you to take up as easy a Lodging here,
+as my House will afford. (Accordingly they were dismiss'd, and he
+proceeded:)--As I hinted to you before, he is in love with my youngest
+Niece, _Philibella_; but her Fortune not exceeding five hundred Pound,
+his Father will assuredly disinherit him, if he marries her: tho' he has
+given his Consent that he should marry her eldest Sister, whose Father
+dying ere he knew his Wife was with child of the youngest, left _Lucy_
+three thousand Pounds, being as much as he thought convenient to match
+her handsomly; and accordingly the Nuptials of young _Goodland_ and
+_Lucy_ are to be celebrated next _Easter_. They shall not, if I can
+hinder them (interrupted his offended Majesty.) Never endeavour the
+Obstruction (said the Knight) for I'll shew you the Way to a dearer
+Vengeance: Women are Women, your Majesty knows; she may be won to your
+Embraces before that time, and then you antedate him your Creature.
+A Cuckold, you mean (cry'd King in Fancy:) O exquisite Revenge! but can
+you consent that I should attempt it? What is't to me? We live not in
+_Spain_, where all the Relations of the Family are oblig'd to vindicate
+a Whore: No, I would wound him in his most tender Part. But how shall we
+compass it? (ask'd t'other.) Why thus, throw away three thousand Pounds
+on the youngest Sister, as a Portion, to make her as happy as she can be
+in her new Lover, Sir _Frederick Flygold_, an extravagant young Fop, and
+wholly given over to Gaming; so, ten to one, but you may retrieve your
+Money of him, and have the two Sisters at your Devotion. Oh, thou my
+better Genius than that which was given to me by Heaven at my Birth!
+What Thanks, what Praises shall I return and sing to thee for this!
+(cry'd King _Conundrum_.) No Thanks, no Praises, I beseech your Majesty,
+since in this I gratify my self--You think I am your Friend? and, you
+will agree to this? (said _Friendly_, by way of Question.) Most readily,
+(returned the Fop King:) Would it were broad Day, that I might send for
+the Money to my Banker's; for in all my Life, in all my Frolicks,
+Encounters and Extravagances, I never had one so grateful, and so
+pleasant as this will be, if you are in earnest, to gratify both my Love
+and Revenge! That I am in earnest, you will not doubt, when you see with
+what Application I shall pursue my Design: In the mean Time, _My Duty to
+your Majesty; To our good Success in this Affair_. While he drank,
+t'other return'd, _With all my Heart_; and pledg'd him. Then _Friendly_
+began afresh: Leave the whole Management of this to me; only one thing
+more I think necessary, that you make a Present of five hundred Guineas
+to her Majesty, the Bride that must be. By all means (return'd the
+wealthy King of _Bantam_;) I had so design'd before. Well, Sir (said Sir
+_Philip_) what think you of a set Party or two at _Piquet_, to pass away
+a few Hours, till we can sleep? A seasonable and welcome Proposition
+(returned the King;) but I won't play above twenty Guineas the Game, and
+forty the Lurch. Agreed (said _Friendly_;) first call in your Servant;
+mine is here already. The Slave came in, and they began, with unequal
+Fortune at first; for the Knight had lost a hundred Guineas to Majesty,
+which he paid in Specie; and then propos'd fifty Guineas the Game, and a
+hundred the Lurch. To which t'other consented; and without winning more
+than three Games, and those not together, made shift to get three
+thousand two hundred Guineas in debt to Sir _Philip_; for which Majesty
+was pleas'd to give him Bond, whether _Friendly_ would or no,
+
+  _Seal'd and deliver'd in the Presence of_,
+
+    The Mark of (_W._) _Will. Watchful_.
+    And, (_S_) _Sim. Slyboots_.
+
+  A couple of delicate Beagles, their mighty Attendants.
+
+It was then about the Hour that Sir _Philip's_ (and, it may be, other
+Ladies) began to yawn and stretch; when the Spirits refresh'd, troul'd
+about, and tickled the Blood with Desires of Action; which made Majesty
+and Worship think of a Retreat to Bed: where in less than half an Hour,
+or before ever he cou'd say his Prayers, I'm sure the first fell fast
+asleep; but the last, perhaps, paid his accustom'd Devotion, ere he
+begun his Progress to the Shadow of Death. However, he waked earlier
+than his Cully Majesty, and got up to receive young _Goodland_, who came
+according to his Word, with the first Opportunity. Sir _Philip_ receiv'd
+him with more than usual Joy, tho' not with greater Kindness, and let
+him know every Syllable and Accident that had pass'd between them till
+they went to Bed: which you may believe was not a little pleasantly
+surprizing to _Valentine_, who began then to have some Assurance of his
+Happiness with _Philibella_. His Friend told him, that he must now be
+reconcil'd to his _Mock-Majesty_, tho' with some Difficulty; and so
+taking one hearty Glass a-piece, he left _Valentine_ in the Parlour to
+carry the ungrateful News of his Visit to him that Morning. King ----
+was in an odd sort of taking, when he heard that _Valentine_ was below;
+and had been, as Sir _Philip_ inform'd _Majesty_, at _Majesty's_ Palace,
+to enquire for him there: But when he told him, that he had already
+school'd him on his own Behalf, for the Affront done in his House, and
+that he believ'd he could bring his Majesty off without any loss of
+present Honour, his Countenance visibly discover'd his past Fear, and
+present Satisfaction; which was much encreas'd too, when _Friendly_
+shewing him his Bond for the Money he won of him at play, let him know,
+that if he paid three thousand Guineas to _Philibella_, he would
+immediately deliver him up his Bond, and not expect the two hundred
+Guineas overplus. His Majesty of _Bantam_ was then in so good a Humour,
+that he could have made Love to Sir _Philip_; nay, I believe he could
+have kiss'd _Valentine_, instead of seeming angry. Down they came, and
+saluted like Gentlemen: But after the Greeting was over, _Goodland_
+began to talk something of Affront, Satisfaction, Honour, _&c._ when
+immediately _Friendly_ interpos'd, and after a little seeming Uneasiness
+and Reluctancy, reconcil'd the hot and cholerick Youth to the cold
+phlegmatick King.
+
+Peace was no sooner proclaim'd, than the King of _Bantam_ took his Rival
+and late Antagonist with him in his own Coach, not excluding Sir
+_Philip_ by any means, to _Locket's_, where they din'd: Thence he would
+have 'em to Court with him, where he met the Lady _Flippant_, the Lady
+_Harpy_, the Lady _Crocodile_, Madam _Tattlemore_, Miss _Medler_, Mrs.
+_Gingerly_, a rich Grocer's Wife, and some others, besides Knights and
+Gentlemen of as good Humours as the Ladies; all whom he invited to a
+Ball at his own House, the Night following; his own Lady being then in
+the Country. Madam _Tattlemore_, I think was the first he spoke to in
+Court, and whom first he surpriz'd with the happy News of his
+Advancement to the Title of King of _Bantam_. How wondrous hasty was she
+to be gone, as soon as she heard it! 'Twas not in her Power, because not
+in her Nature, to stay long enough to take a civil Leave of the Company;
+but away she flew, big with the empty Title of a fantastick King,
+proclaiming it to every one of her Acquaintance, as she passed through
+every Room, till she came to the _Presence-Chamber_, where she only
+whisper'd it; but her Whispers made above half the honourable Company
+quit the Presence of the King of _Great-Britain_, to go make their Court
+to his Majesty of _Bantam_: some cry'd, _God bless your Majesty!_ Some
+_Long live the King of +Bantam+!_ Others, _All Hail to your Sacred
+Majesty_; In short, he was congratulated on all Sides. Indeed I don't
+hear that his Majesty King _Charles_ II. ever sent an Ambassador to
+compliment him; tho' possibly, he saluted him by his Title the first
+time he saw him afterwards: For, you know, he is a wonderful
+good-natur'd and well-bred Gentleman.
+
+After he thought the Court of _England_ was universally acquainted with
+his mighty Honour, he was pleas'd to think fit to retire to his own more
+private Palace, with Sir _Philip_ and _Goodland_, whom he entertain'd
+that Night very handsomly, till about seven o'Clock; when they went
+together to the Play, which was that Night, _A King and no King_. His
+Attendant-Friends could not forbear smiling, to think how aptly the
+Title of the Play suited his Circumstances. Nor could he choose but take
+Notice of it behind the Scenes, between Jest and Earnest; telling the
+Players how kind Fortune had been the Night past, in disposing the Bean
+to him; and justifying what one of her Prophetesses had foretold some
+Years since. I shall now no more regard (said he) that old doating
+Fellow _Pythagoras's_ Saying _Abstineto a Fabis_, That is, (added he, by
+way of Construction) _Abstain from Beans_: for I find the Excellency of
+'em in Cakes and Dishes; from the first, they inspire the Soul with
+mighty Thoughts; and from the last our Bodies receive a strong and
+wholesom Nourishment. That is, (said a Wag among those sharp Youths,
+I think 'twas my Friend the Count) these puff you up in Mind, Sir, those
+in Body. They had some further Discourse among the Nymphs of the Stage,
+ere they went into the Pit; where Sir _Philip_ spread the News of his
+Friend's Accession to the Title, tho' not yet to the Throne of _Bantam_;
+upon which he was there again complimented on that Occasion. Several of
+the Ladies and Gentlemen who saluted him, he invited to the next Night's
+Ball at his Palace.
+
+The Play done, they took each of them a Bottle at the _Rose_, and parted
+till Seven the Night following; which came not sooner than desired: for
+he had taken such Care, that all things were in readiness before Eight,
+only he was not to expect the Musick till the End of the Play. About
+Nine, Sir _Philip_, his Lady, _Goodland_, _Philibella_, and _Lucy_ came.
+Sir _Philip_ return'd him _Rabelais_, which he had borrow'd of him,
+wherein the Knight had written, in an old odd sort of a Character, this
+Prophecy of his own making; with which he surpriz'd the Majesty of
+_Bantam_, who vow'd he had never taken Notice of it before; but he said,
+he perceiv'd it had been long written by the Character; and here it
+follows, as near as I can remember:
+
+  _When +M. D. C.+ come +L.+ before,
+  Three +XXX+'s, two II's and one I. more;
+  Then +KING+, tho' now but Name to thee,
+  Shall both thy Name and Title be._
+
+They had hardly made an End of reading it, ere the whole Company, and
+more than he had invited, came in, and were receiv'd with a great deal
+of Formality and Magnificence. _Lucy_ was there attended as his Queen;
+and _Philibella_, as the Princess her Sister. They danc'd then till they
+were weary; and afterwards retired to another large Room, where they
+found the Tables spread and furnished with all the most seasonable cold
+Meat; which was succeeded by the choicest Fruits, and the richest Desert
+of Sweetmeats that Luxury could think on, or at least that this Town
+could afford. The Wines were all most excellent in their Kind; and their
+Spirits flew about thro' every Corner of the House: There was scarce a
+Spark sober in the whole Company, with drinking repeated Glasses to the
+Health of the King of _Bantam_, and his Royal Consort, with the Princess
+_Philibella's_ who sat together under a Royal Canopy of State, his
+Majesty between the two beautiful Sisters: only _Friendly_ and
+_Goodland_ wisely manag'd that part of the Engagement where they were
+concern'd, and preserv'd themselves from the Heat of the Debauch.
+
+Between Three and Four most of them began to draw off, laden with Fruit
+and Sweetmeats, and rich Favours compos'd of Yellow, Green, Red and
+White, the Colours of his new Majesty of _Bantam_. Before Five they were
+left to themselves; when the Lady _Friendly_ was discompos'd, for want
+of Sleep, and her usual Cordial, which obliged Sir _Philip_ to wait on
+her Home, with his two Nieces: But his Majesty would by no means part
+with _Goodland_; whom, before Nine that Morning, he made as drunk as a
+Lord, and by Consequence, one of his Peers; for Majesty was then,
+indeed, as great as an Emperor: He fancy'd himself _Alexander_, and
+young _Valentine_ his _Hephestion_; and did so be-buss him, that the
+young Gentleman fear'd he was fallen into the Hands of an _Italian_.
+However, by the kind Persuasions of his condescending and dissembling
+Majesty, he ventur'd to go into Bed with him; where King _Would-be_ fell
+asleep, hand-over-head: and not long after, _Goodland_, his new-made
+Peer, follow'd him to the cool Retreats of _Morpheus_.
+
+About Three the next Afternoon they both wak'd, as by consent, and
+called to dress. And after that Business was over, I think they
+swallow'd each of 'em a Pint of _Old-Hock_, with a little Sugar, by the
+way of healing. Their Coaches were got ready in the mean time; but the
+Peer was forced to accept of the Honour of being carried in his
+Majesty's to Sir _Philip's_, whom they found just risen from Dinner,
+with _Philadelphia_ and his two Nieces. They sat down, and ask'd for
+something to relish a Glass of Wine, and Sir _Philip_ order'd a cold
+Chine to be set before 'em, of which they eat about an Ounce a-piece;
+but they drank more by half, I dare say.
+
+After their little Repast, _Friendly_ call'd the _Would-be-Monarch_
+aside, and told him, that he would have him go to the Play that Night,
+which was _The London-Cuckolds_; promising to meet him there in less
+than half an Hour after his Departure: telling him withal, that he would
+surprize him with a much better Entertainment than the Stage afforded.
+_Majesty_ took the Hint, imagining, and that rightly, that the Knight
+had some Intrigue in his Head, for the Promotion of the Commonwealth of
+Cuckoldom: In order therefore to his Advice, he took his leave about a
+quarter of an Hour after.
+
+When he was gone, Sir _Philip_ thus bespoke his pretended Niece: Madam,
+I hope your Majesty will not refuse me the Honour of waiting on you to a
+Place where you will meet with better Entertainment than your Majesty
+can expect from the best Comedy in Christendom. _Val_, (continued he)
+you must go with us, to secure me against the Jealousy of my Wife. That,
+indeed (return'd his Lady) is very material; and you are mightily
+concern'd not to give me Occasion, I must own. You see I am now,
+(replied he:) But--come! on with Hoods and Scarf! (pursued he, to
+_Lucy_.) Then addressing himself again to his Lady; Madam, (said he)
+we'll wait on you. In less Time than I could have drank a Bottle to my
+Share, the Coach was got ready, and on they drove to the Play-House. By
+the way, said _Friendly_ to _Val._--Your Honour, noble Peer, must be set
+down at _Long's_; for only _Lucy_ and I must be seen to his Majesty of
+_Bantam_: And now, I doubt not, you understand what you must trust
+to.--To be robb'd of her Majesty's Company, I warrant (return'd the
+other) for these long three Hours. Why (cry'd _Lucy_) you don't mean,
+I hope, to leave me with his Majesty of _Bantam_? 'Tis for thy Good,
+Child! 'Tis for thy Good (return'd _Friendly_.) To the _Rose_ they got
+then; where _Goodland_ alighted, and expected Sir _Philip_; who led
+_Lucy_ into the King's Box, to his new Majesty; where, after the first
+Scene, he left them together. The over-joy'd fantastick Monarch would
+fain have said some fine obliging Things to the Knight, as he was going
+out; but _Friendly's_ Haste prevented 'em, who went directly to
+_Valentine_, took one Glass, call'd a Reckoning, mounted his Chariot,
+and away Home they came: where I believe he was welcome to his Lady; for
+I never heard any thing to the contrary.
+
+In the mean Time, his Majesty had not the Patience to stay out half the
+Play, at which he was saluted by above twenty Gentlemen and Ladies by
+his new and mighty Title: but out he led Miss Majesty ere the third Act
+was half done; pretending, that it was so damn'd a bawdy Play, that he
+knew her Modesty had been already but too much offended at it; so into
+his Coach he got her. When they were seated, she told him she would go
+to no Place with him, but to the Lodgings her Mother had taken for her,
+when she first came to Town, and which still she kept. Your Mother,
+Madam, (cry'd he) why, is Sir _Philip's_ Sister living then? His
+Brother's Widow is, Sir, (she reply'd.) Is she there? (he ask'd.) No,
+Sir, (she return'd;) she is in the Country. Oh, then we will go thither
+to chuse. The Coach-man was then order'd to drive to _Jermain-Street_;
+where, when he came in to the Lodgings, he found 'em very rich and
+modishly furnish'd. He presently call'd one of his Slaves, and whisper'd
+him to get three or four pretty Dishes for Supper; and then getting a
+Pen, Ink and Paper, writ a Note to _C----d_ the Goldsmith with
+_Temple-Bar_, for five hundred guineas; which _Watchful_ brought him, in
+less than an Hour's time, when they were just in the Height of Supper;
+_Lucy_ having invited her Landlady, for the better Colour of the Matter.
+His _Bantamite_ Majesty took the Gold from his Slave, and threw it by
+him in the Window, that _Lucy_ might take Notice of it; (which you may
+assure yourself she did, and after Supper wink'd on the goodly Matron of
+the House to retire, which she immediately obey'd.) Then his Majesty
+began his Court very earnestly and hotly, throwing the naked Guineas
+into her Lap: which she seemed to refuse with much Disdain; but upon his
+repeated Promises, confirm'd by unheard of Oaths and Imprecations, that
+he would give her Sister three thousand Guineas to her Portion, she
+began by Degrees to mollify, and let the Gold lie quietly in her Lap:
+And the next Night, after he had drawn Notes on two or three of his
+Bankers, for the Payment of three thousand Guineas to Sir _Philip_, or
+Order, and received his own Bond, made for what he had lost at Play,
+from _Friendly_, she made no great Difficulty to admit his Majesty to
+her Bed. Where I think fit to leave 'em for the present; for (perhaps)
+they had some private Business.
+
+The next Morning before the Titular King was (I won't say up, or
+stirring, but) out of Bed, young _Goodland_ and _Philibella_ were
+privately marry'd; the Bills being all accepted and paid in two Days
+Time. As soon as ever the fantastick Monarch could find in his Heart to
+divorce himself from the dear and charming Embraces of his beautiful
+Bedfellow, he came flying to Sir _Philip_, with all the Haste that
+Imagination big with Pleasure could inspire him with, to discharge it
+self to a suppos'd Friend. The Knight told him, that he was really much
+troubled to find that his Niece had yielded so soon and easily to him;
+however, he wish'd him Joy: To which the other return'd, that he could
+never want it, whilst he had the Command of so much Beauty, and that
+without the ungrateful Obligations of Matrimony, which certainly are the
+most nauseous, hateful, pernicious and destructive of Love imaginable.
+Think you so, Sir? (ask'd the Knight;) we shall hear what a Friend of
+mine will say on such an Occasion, to-morrow about this Time: but I
+beseech your Majesty to conceal your Sentiments of it to him, lest you
+make him as uneasy as you seem to be in that Circumstance. Be assur'd I
+will, (return'd the other:) But when shall I see the sweet, the dear,
+the blooming, the charming _Philibella_? She will be with us at Dinner.
+Where's her Majesty? (ask'd Sir _Philip_) Had you enquir'd before, she
+had been here; for, look, she comes! _Friendly_ seems to regard her with
+a Kind of Displeasure, and whisper'd Majesty, that he should express no
+particular Symptoms of Familiarity with _Lucy_ in his House, at any
+Time, especially when _Goodland_ was there, as then he was above with
+his Lady and _Philibella_, who came down presently after to Dinner.
+
+About Four o'Clock, as his Majesty had intrigu'd with her, _Lucy_ took a
+Hackney-Coach, and went to her Lodgings; whither about an Hour after, he
+follow'd her, Next Morning, at nine, he came to _Friendly's_, who
+carry'd him up to see his new-married Friends--But (O Damnation to
+Thoughts!) what Torments did he feel, when he saw young _Goodland_ and
+_Philibella_ in bed together; the last of which return'd him humble and
+hearty Thanks for her Portion and Husband, as the first did for his
+Wife. He shook his Head at Sir _Philip_, and without speaking one Word,
+left 'em, and hurry'd to _Lucy_, to lament the ill Treatment he had met
+with from _Friendly_. They coo'd and bill'd as long as he was able; she
+(sweet Hypocrite) seeming to bemoan his Misfortunes; which he took so
+kindly, that when he left her, which was about three in the Afternoon,
+he caus'd a Scrivener to draw up an Instrument, wherein he settled a
+hundred Pounds a Year on _Lucy_ for her Life, and gave her a hundred
+Guineas more against her Lying-in: (For she told him, and indeed 'twas
+true, that she was with child, and knew her self to be so from a very
+good Reason--) And indeed she was so--by the _Friendly_ Knight. When he
+return'd to her, he threw the obliging Instrument into her Lap;
+(it seems he had a particular Kindness for that Place--) then call'd for
+Wine, and something to eat; for he had not drank a Pint to his Share all
+the Day, (tho' he had ply'd it at the Chocolate-House.--) The Landlady,
+who was invited to sup with 'em, bid 'em good-night, about eleven; when
+they went to bed, and partly slept till about six; when they were
+entertain'd by some Gentleman of their Acquaintance, who play'd and sung
+very finely, by way of _Epithalamium_, these Words and more:
+
+  _Joy to great +Bantam!+
+  Live long, love and wanton!
+  And thy Royal Consort!
+  For both are of one Sort, +&c.+_
+
+The rest I have forgot. He took some Offence at the Words; but more at
+the Visit that Sir _Philip_, and _Goodland_, made him, about an Hour
+after, who found him in Bed with his Royal Consort; and after having
+wish'd 'em Joy, and thrown their Majesties own Shoes and Stockings at
+their Head, retir'd. This gave Monarch in Fancy so great a Caution that
+he took his Royal Consort into the Country, (but above forty Miles off
+the Place where his own Lady was) where, in less than eight Months, she
+was deliver'd of a Princely Babe, who was Christen'd by the Heathenish
+Name of _Hayoumorecake Bantam_, while her Majesty lay in like a pretty
+Queen.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The King of Bantam.
+
+
+p. 17 _last new Plays, being then in the Year 1683_. The new plays acted
+at the Theatre Royal in 1682 were: Southerne's _The Loyal Brother; or,
+The Persian Prince_; Tate's _Ingratitude of a Commonwealth; or, The Fall
+of Caius Marius Coriolanus_; Settle's _The Heir of Morocco, with the
+Death of Gayland_; Banks' _The Unhappy Favourite; or, the Earl of
+Essex_; D'Urfey's _The Injur'd Princess; or, The Fatal Wager_. There
+were also an unusual number of revivals of the older plays at this
+house. At Dorset Garden the following were produced: Otway's _Venice
+Preserved; or, A Plot Discovered_; Mrs. Behn's _The City Heiress; or,
+Sir Timothy Treatall_; D'Urfey's _The Royalist_; Mrs. Behn's _The False
+Count; or, A New Way to Play an Old Game_; Banks' _Virtue Betray'd; or,
+Anna Bullen_; Mrs. Behn's _The Roundheads; or, The Good Old Cause_;
+Ravenscroft's _The London Cuckolds_; and _Romulus and Hersilia; or, The
+Sabine War_, an anonymous tragedy. There were also notable revivals of
+Randolph's _The Jealous Lovers_, and Fletcher's _The Maid in the Mill_.
+The two Companies amalgamated in the autumn, opening at the Theatre
+Royal, 16 November, for which occasion a special Prologue and Epilogue
+were written by Dryden. 4 December, Dryden and Lee's famous tragedy,
+_The Duke of Guise_, had a triumphant first night. It will be remembered
+that Mrs. Behn is writing of incidents which took place on 6 January,
+1683, Twelfth Night, so 'the last new plays' must refer to the
+productions of 1682. Of course, fresh songs, and probably musical
+entertainments, would be inserted at the different revivals of the older
+plays which were so frequent during that year.
+
+p. 20 _Statira, . . . Roxana._ In allusion to the two rival princesses
+for Alexander's love as they appear in Nat Lee's famous tragedy, _The
+Rival Queens; or, Alexander the Great_, produced at Drury Lane, 1677. It
+held the stage over a century and a half, longest of his plays, and is
+indeed an excellent piece. Originally, Hart played Alexander; Mrs.
+Marshall, the glowing Roxana; and Mrs. Boutell, Statira. Genest
+chronicles a performance at Drury Lane, 23 June, 1823, with Kean as
+Alexander; Mrs. W. West, Statira; Mrs. Glover, Roxana.
+
+p. 24 _forty the Lurch_. 'Lurch' is a very common old term (now rare)
+'used in various games to denote a certain concluding state of the game
+in which one player is enormously ahead of the other; often a "maiden
+set" or love-game'--_N.E.D._ cf. Urquhart's _Rabelais_ (1653), II, xii:
+'By two of my table-men in the corner point I have gained the lurch.'
+Gouldman's _Latin Dictionary_ (1674), gives: 'A lurch; _duplex palma,
+facilis victoria_.'
+
+p. 26 _to Locket's, where they din'd_. This fashionable Ordinary stood
+on the site of Drummond's Bank, Charing Cross. It was named from Adam
+Locket, the landlord, who died in 1688. In 1702, however, we find an
+Edward Locket, probably a son, as proprietor. The reputation of the
+house was on the wane during the latter years of Anne, and in the reign
+of George I its vogue entirely ceased. There are very frequent
+references. In _The Country Wife_ (1675), Horner tells Pinchwife: 'Thou
+art as shy of my kindness as a Lombard-street alderman of a courtier's
+civility at Locket's' (IV, iii). In Shadwell's _The Scowerers_ (1691),
+old Tope, replying to a health, cries: 'I'll answer you in a couple of
+Brimmers of Claret at Locket's at Dinner' (I, i). In Vanbrugh's _The
+Relapse_ (1696), Lord Foppington, when asked if he dines at home,
+surmises: ''tis passible I may dine with some of aur House at Lacket's,'
+which shows that it was then the very rendezvous of fashion and quality.
+
+p. 27 _A King and no King._ Langbaine testifies to the popularity of
+Beaumont and Fletcher's play both before and after the Restoration.
+Pepys saw it 14 March, 1661, and again, 26 September the same year. The
+1676 quarto 'as it is now acted at the Theatre Royal by his Majestie's
+Servants' gives a full cast with Hart as Arbaces; Kynaston, Tigranes;
+Mohun, Mardonius; Lacy, Bessus; Mrs. Betty Cox, Panthea; Mrs. Marshall,
+Spaconia. In the earlier production Nell Gwynne had acted Panthea. The
+two Companies amalgamated in 1682, opening 16 November. Hart 'never
+Acted more' after this date. Mrs. Marshall had retired in 1677; and in
+1683 Betterton was playing Arbaces with quite a new allotment of the
+other roles.
+
+p. 27 _The Rose._ There are repeated references to this celebrated
+tavern which stood in Russell Street, Covent Garden. _vide_ _The Younger
+Brother_, I, ii (Vol. IV), Motteux' Song: 'Thence to the Rose where he
+takes his three Flasks,' and the note on that passage.
+
+p. 29 _The London-Cuckolds._ Ravenscroft's rollicking comedy, which had
+been produced with great success at the Duke's House in 1682 (4to,
+1682), long kept the boards with undiminished favour, being very
+frequently given each season. Genest has the following true and
+pertinent remark: 'If it be the province of Comedy not to retail
+morality to a yawning pit but to make the audience laugh and to keep
+them in good humour this play must be allowed to be one of the best
+Comedies in the English language.' 29 October (the old Lord Mayor's
+Day), 1751, Garrick substituted _Eastward Hoe_ at Drury Lane for the
+annual performance of _The London Cuckolds_, a change not approved by
+the audience, who promptly damned their new fare. Ravenscroft's comedy
+was given that evening at Covent Garden, and on 9 November, the
+following year. It was also performed there in 1753. 9 November, 1754,
+George II ordered _The Provoked Husband_. It has often been stated
+(e.g. by Professor A. W. Ward--'Ravenscroft'--_Dictionary of National
+Biography_) that this royal command gave _The London Cuckolds_ its final
+_conge_, but such was neither the intent nor the case. The play is
+billed at Covent Garden, 10 November, 1755; in 1757; and 9 November,
+1758. Shuter excelled as Dashwell. A two act version was played at
+Covent Garden, 10 April, 1782, and repeated on the 12th. This was for
+the benefit of Quick, who acted Doodle.
+
+p. 30 _Your Honour . . . must be set down at Long's._ Long's was a
+famous Ordinary in the Haymarket. It was here that in 1678 Lord Pembroke
+killed Mr. Coney with his fist. He was tried by his Peers and acquitted.
+There was at the same period a second tavern in Covent Garden kept by
+Ben Long, Long's brother. In Dryden's _Mr. Limberham_ (1678), Brainsick
+cries: 'I have won a wager to be spent luxuriously at Long's.' In
+Etheredge's _The Man of Mode_ (1676), the following conversation
+occurs:--
+
+  _Bellair._ Where do you dine?
+  _Dorimant._ At Long's or Locket's.
+  _Medley._ At Long's let it be.
+
+p. 30 _the King's Box_. The seats in the boxes of the Restoration
+Theatre were let out severally to separate persons, and although the
+King had, of course, his own private box when he saw a play, yet when he
+was not present even the royal box was apportioned to individuals as the
+rest. There are many allusions to this which prove, moreover, that the
+front row of the King's box was the most conspicuous and highly coveted
+position in the house. In Etheredge's _The Man of Mode_ (1676),
+Dorimant, hearing of a young gentlewoman lately come to town and being
+taken with his own handsome face, wagers that she must be 'some awkward,
+ill-fashioned, country toad, who, not having above four dozen of black
+hairs on her head, has adorned her baldness with a large white fruz,
+that she may look sparkishly in the forefront of the King's box at an
+old play.' In Tom Brown's _Letters from the Dead to the Living_[1] we
+have one from Julian, 'late Secretary to the Muses,' to Will. Pierre of
+Lincoln's Inn Fields Playhouse, wherein, recalling how in his lampoons
+whilst he lived characters about town were shown in no very enviable
+light, he particularizes that 'the antiquated Coquet was told of her age
+and ugliness, tho' her vanity plac'd her in the first row in the King's
+box at the playhouse.'
+
+p. 31 _Jermain-Street._ Jermyn Street runs parallel with Piccadilly from
+the Haymarket to St. James. It was built _circa_ 1667, and derives its
+name from Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans. Shadwell spells it Germin
+Street, and it was in a house here that old Snarl was wont to receive
+amorous castigation at the hands of Mrs. Figgup.--_The Virtuoso_ (1676),
+III, ii. It was a fashionable quarter. From 1675 to 1681 the Duke of
+Marlborough, then Colonel Churchill, lived here. La Belle Stuart,
+Duchess of Richmond, had a house near Eagle Passage, 1681-3, and was
+succeeded therein by the Countess of Northumberland. Next door dwelt
+Henry Saville, Rochester's friend, 1681-3. Three doors from the Duchess
+again was living in 1683 Simon Verelest, the painter. In 1684 Sir
+William Soames followed him. In after years also there have been a large
+number of famous residents connected with this favourite street.
+
+p. 34 _after having . . . thrown their Majesties own Shoes and
+Stockings_. For this old bridal custom see _ante_, Vol. III (p. 223),
+_The Lucky Chance_, II, ii: 'we'll toss the Stocking'; and the note on
+that passage.
+
+    [Footnote 1: This actual letter was written by Boyer, together
+    with the reply which is dated 5 November, 1701. Julian was a
+    well-known journalistic scribbler and ribald ballader of the time.
+    William Peer [Pierre], a young actor of little account, is only
+    cast for such walk-on roles as Jasper, a valet, in Shadwell's _The
+    Scowerers_ (1691); the Parson in D'Urfey's _Love for Money_
+    (1696).]
+
+
+Cross-References from Critical Notes: _The King of Bantam_
+
+Note to p. 27: _vide_ _The Younger Brother_, I, ii (Vol. IV), Motteux'
+Song: 'Thence to the Rose where he takes his three Flasks,' and the note
+on that passage.
+
+  _Younger Brother_ text:
+
+    Then jogs to the _Play-house_, and chats with the Masks,
+    And thence to the _Rose_, where he takes his three Flasks.
+
+  _Younger Brother_ note:
+
+  _the Rose._ This celebrated house stood in Russell Street, Covent
+  Garden, and adjoined Drury Lane. There are innumerable references
+  to it. The greater portion of the 'Rose' was demolished in 1776,
+  when a new front was being built to the theatre.
+
+Note to p. 34: For this old bridal custom see _ante_, Vol. III (p. 223),
+_The Lucky Chance_, II, ii: 'we'll toss the Stocking'; and the note on
+that passage.
+
+  _Lucky Chance_ text:
+
+  Come, Gentlemen, one Bottle, and then--we'll toss the Stocking.
+
+  _Lucky Chance_ note:
+
+  _we'll toss the Stocking_. This merry old matrimonial custom in use
+  at the bedding of the happy pair is often alluded to. cf. Pepys,
+  8 February, 1663: 'Another story was how Lady Castlemaine, a few days
+  since, had Mrs. Stewart to an entertainment, and at night begun a
+  frolique that they two must be married; and married they were, with
+  ring and all other ceremonies of church service, and ribbands, and a
+  sack posset in bed and flinging the stocking; but in the close it is
+  said my Lady Castlemaine, who was the bridegroom, rose, and the King
+  come and take her place.'
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE _UNFORTUNATE HAPPY LADY_: A True History.
+
+
+I cannot omit giving the World an account, of the uncommon Villany of a
+Gentleman of a good Family in _England_ practis'd upon his Sister, which
+was attested to me by one who liv'd in the Family, and from whom I had
+the whole Truth of the Story. I shall conceal the unhappy Gentleman's
+own, under the borrow'd Names of Sir _William Wilding_, who succeeded
+his Father Sir _Edward_, in an Estate of near 4000_l._ a Year,
+inheriting all that belong'd to him, except his Virtues. 'Tis true, he
+was oblig'd to pay his only Sister a Portion of 6000_l._ which he might
+very easily have done out of his Patrimony in a little Time, the Estate
+being not in the least incumbred. But the Death of his good Father gave
+a loose to the Extravagancy of his Inclinations, which till then was
+hardly observable. The first Discovery he made of his Humour, was in the
+extraordinary rich Equipage he prepar'd for his Journey to _London_,
+which was much greater than his fair and plentiful Fortune cou'd
+maintain, nor were his Expences any way inferior to the Figure he made
+here in Town; insomuch, that in less than a Twelve-Month, he was forc'd
+to return to his Seat in the Country, to Mortgage a part of his Estate
+of a Thousand Pounds a Year, to satisfy the Debts he had already
+contracted in his profuse Treats, Gaming and Women, which in a few Weeks
+he effected, to the great Affliction of his Sister _Philadelphia_, a
+young Lady of excellent Beauty, Education, and Virtue; who, fore-seeing
+the utter Ruin of the Estate, if not timely prevented, daily begg'd of
+him, with Prayers and Tears, that might have mov'd a _Scythian_ or wild
+_Arab_, or indeed any thing but him, to pay her her Portion. To which,
+however, he seemingly consented, and promis'd to take her to Town with
+him, and there give her all the Satisfaction she cou'd expect: And
+having dipp'd some paltry Acres of Land, deeper than ever Heaven dipp'd
+'em in Rain, he was as good as his Word, and brought her to Town with
+him, where he told her he would place her with an ancient Lady, with
+whom he had contracted a Friendship at his first coming to _London_;
+adding, that she was a Lady of incomparable Morals, and of a matchless
+Life and Conversation. _Philadelphia_ took him in the best Sense, and
+was very desirous to be planted in the same House with her, hoping she
+might grow to as great a Perfection in such excellent Qualifications, as
+she imagined 'em. About four Days therefore after they had been in Town,
+she sollicits her Brother to wait on that Lady with her: He reply'd,
+that it is absolutely Necessary and Convenient that I should first
+acquaint her with my Design, and beg that she will be pleas'd to take
+you into her Care, and this shall be my chief Business to Day:
+Accordingly, that very Hour he went to the Lady _Beldams_, his reverend
+and honourable Acquaintance, whom he prepar'd for the Reception of his
+Sister, who he told her was a Cast-Mistress of his, and desir'd her
+Assistance to prevent the Trouble and Charge, which she knew such Cattle
+would bring upon young Gentlemen of plentiful Estates. To morrow Morning
+about Eleven, I'll leave her with your Ladyship, who, I doubt not, will
+give her a wholesome Lesson or two before Night, and your Reward is
+certain. My Son, (return'd she) I know the Greatness of your Spirit, the
+Heat of your Temper has both warm'd and inflam'd me! I joy to see you in
+Town again--Ah! That I could but recal one twenty Years for your
+Sake!--Well--no matter.--I won't forget your Instructions, nor my Duty
+to Morrow: In the mean time, I'll drink your Health in a Bottle of
+_Sherry_ or two, O! Cry your Mercy, good my Lady _Beldam_, (said the
+young Debauchee) I had like to have forfeited my Title to your Care, in
+not remembring to leave you an Obligation. There are three Guinea's,
+which, I hope, will plead for me till to Morrow.--So--Your Ladyship's
+Servant humbly kisses your Hand. Your Honours most Obedient Servant,
+most gratefully Acknowledges your Favours.--Your humble Servant, Good
+Sir _William_, added she, seeing him leave her in haste.
+
+Never were three Persons better pleas'd for a Time than this unnatural
+Man, his sweet innocent Sister, and the Lady _Beldam_; upon his return
+to _Philadelphia_, who could not rest that Night, for thinking on the
+Happiness she was going to enjoy in the Conversation of so virtuous a
+Lady as her Brother's Acquaintance, to whom she was in Hopes that she
+might discover her dearest Thoughts, and complain of Sir _William's_
+Extravagance and Unkindness, without running the Hazzard of being
+betray'd; and at the same Time, reasonably expect from so pious a Lady
+all the Assistance within her Capacity. On the other side, her Brother
+hugg'd himself in the Prospect he had of getting rid of his own Sister,
+and the Payment of 6000_l._ for the Sum of forty or fifty Guineas, by
+the Help and Discretion of this sage Matron; who, for her part, by this
+Time, had reckon'd up, and promis'd to herself an Advantage of at least
+three hundred Pounds, one way or other by this bargain.
+
+About Ten the next Morning, Sir _William_ took Coach with his Sister,
+for the old Lady's Enchanted Castle, taking only one Trunk of hers with
+them for the present, promising her to send her other Things to her the
+next Day. The young Lady was very joyfully and respectfully received by
+her Brother's venerable Acquaintance, who was mightily charm'd with her
+Youth and Beauty. A Bottle of the Best was then strait brought in, and
+not long after a very splendid Entertainment for Breakfast: The
+Furniture was all very modish and rich, and the Attendance was suitable.
+Nor was the Lady _Beldam's_ Conversation less obliging and modest, than
+Sir _William's_ Discourse had given _Philadelphia_ occasion to expect.
+After they had eaten and drank what they thought Convenient, the
+reverend old Lady led 'em out of the Parlour to shew 'em the House,
+every Room of which they found answerably furnish'd to that whence they
+came. At last she led 'em into a very pleasant Chamber, richly hung, and
+curiously adorn'd with the Pictures of several beautiful young Ladies,
+wherein there was a Bed which might have been worthy the Reception of a
+Dutchess: This, Madam, (said she) is your Apartment, with the
+Anti-chamber, and little Withdrawing-Room. Alas, Madam! (returned the
+dear innocent unthinking Lady) you set too great a Value on your
+Servant; but I rather think your Ladyship designs me this Honour for the
+sake of Sir _William_, who has had the Happiness of your Acquaintance
+for some Months: Something for Sir _William_, (returned the venerable
+Lady _Beldam_) but much more for your Ladyship's own, as you will have
+Occasion to find hereafter. I shall Study to deserve your Favours and
+Friendship, Madam, reply'd _Philadelphia_: I hope you will, Madam, said
+the barbarous Man. But my Business now calls me hence; to Morrow at
+Dinner I will return to you, and Order the rest of your Things to be
+brought with me. In the mean while (pursu'd the Traytor, kissing his
+Sister, as he thought and hop'd the last time) be as chearful as you
+can, my Dear! and expect all you can wish from me. A thousand Thanks, my
+dearest Brother, return'd she, with Tears in her Eyes: And Madam, (said
+he to his old mischievous Confederate, giving her a very rich Purse
+which held 50 Guineas) be pleas'd to accept this Trifle, as an humble
+Acknowledgment of the great Favour you do this Lady, and the Care of
+her, which you promise; and I'm sure she cannot want. --So, once more,
+(added he) my Dear! and, Madam! I am your humble Servant _Jusqu'
+a Revoir_, and went out bowing. Heavens bless my dear Brother! (cry'd
+_Philadelphia_) your Honour's most Faithful and obedient Servant, said
+the venerable _Beldam_.
+
+No sooner was the treacherous Brother gone, than the old Lady taking
+_Philadelphia_ by the Hand, led her into the Parlour; where she began to
+her to this Effect: _If I mistake not, Madam, you were pleas'd to call
+Sir +William+ Brother once or twice of late in Conversation: Pray be
+pleas'd to satisfy my Curiosity so far as to inform me in the Truth of
+this Matter? Is it really so or not?_ _Philadelphia_ reply'd, blushing,
+your Ladyship strangely surprizes me with this Question: For, I thought
+it had been past your Doubt that it is so. Did not he let you know so
+much himself? I humbly beg your Pardon, Madam, (returned the true
+Offspring of old Mother _Eve_) that I have so visibly disturb'd you by
+my Curiosity: But, indeed, Madam, Sir _William_ did not say your
+Ladyship was his Sister, when he gave me the Charge of you, as of the
+nearest and dearest Friend he had in the World. Now our Father and
+Mother are dead, (said the sweet Innocent) who never had more Children
+than us two, who can be a nearer or dearer Friend unto me, than my
+Brother Sir _William_, or than I his Sister to him? None? Certainly,
+you'll excuse me, Madam, (answer'd t'other) a Wife or Mistress may.
+A Wife indeed, (return'd the beautiful Innocent) has the Pre-eminence,
+and perhaps, a Mistress too, if honourably lov'd and sought for in
+Marriage: But, (she continu'd) I can assure your Ladyship that he has
+not a Wife, nor did I ever hear he had a Mistress yet. Love in Youth
+(said old Venerable) is very fearful of Discovery. I have known, Madam,
+a great many fine young Gentlemen and Ladies, who have conceal'd their
+violent Passions and greater Affection, under the Notion and Appellation
+of Brother and Sister. And your Ladyship imagines, Sir _William_ and I
+do so? reply'd _Philadelphia_, by way of Question. 'Twere no imprudence,
+if you did, Madam, return'd old Lady _Beldam_, with all the Subtlety she
+had learn'd from the Serpent. Alas! Madam, (reply'd she) there is
+nothing like Secrecy in Love: 'Tis the very Life and Soul of it! I have
+been young myself, and have known it by Experience. But, all this,
+Madam, (interrupted _Philadelphia_, something nettl'd at her Discourse)
+all this can't convince me, that I am not the true and only Sister both
+by Father and Mother of Sir _William Wilding_; however, he wou'd impose
+upon your Ladyship, for what Ends, indeed, I know not, unless
+(unhappily, which Heaven forbid!) he designs to gain your Ladyship's
+Assistance in defeating me of the Portion left me by my Father: But,
+(she continued with Tears) I have too great an Assurance of your Virtue,
+to Fear that you will consent to so wicked a Practise. You may be
+confident, Madam, (said t'other) I never will. And, supposing that he
+were capable of perpetrating so base an Act of himself, yet if your
+Ladyship will be guided and directed by me, I will shew you the Means of
+living Happy and Great, without your Portion, or your Brother's Help; so
+much I am charm'd with your Beauty and Innocence.
+
+But, pray, Madam, (pursu'd she) what is your Portion? And what makes you
+doubt your Brother's Kindness? _Philadelphia_ then told her, how much
+her Brother was to pay her, and gave her an Account of his
+Extravagancies, as far as she knew 'em; to which t'other was no
+Stranger; and (doubtless) cou'd have put a Period to her Sorrows with
+her Life, had she given her as perfect a Relation of his riotous and
+vicious Practices, as she was capable of: But she had farther Business
+with her Life, and, in short, bid her be of good Comfort, and lay all
+her Care on her, and then she cou'd not miss of continual Happiness. The
+sweet Lady took all her Promises for sterling, and kissing her Impious
+Hand, humbly return'd her Thanks. Not long after they went to Dinner;
+and in the Afternoon, three or four young Ladies came to visit the Right
+Reverend the Lady _Beldam_; who told her new Guest, that these were all
+her Relations, and no less than her own Sister's Children. The Discourse
+among 'em was general and very modest, which lasted for some Hours: For,
+our Sex seldom wants matter of Tattle. But, whether their Tongues were
+then miraculously wearied, or that they were tir'd with one continued
+Scene of Place, I won't pretend to determine: But they left the Parlour
+for the Garden, where after about half an Hour's Walk, there was a very
+fine Desert of Sweetmeats and Fruits brought into one of the Arbours.
+_Cherbetts_, _Ros Solis_, rich and small Wines, with Tea, Chocolate,
+_&c._ compleated the old Lady's Treat; the Pleasure of which was much
+heighten'd by the Voices of two of her Ladyship's Sham-Nieces, who sung
+very charmingly. The Dear, sweet Creature, thought she had happily got
+into the Company of Angels: But (alas!) they were Angels that had fallen
+more than once. She heard talk of Nunneries, and having never been out
+of her own Country till within four or five Days, she had certainly
+concluded she had been in one of those Religious-Houses now, had she but
+heard a Bell ring, and seen 'em kneel to Prayers, and make use of their
+Beads, as she had been told those happy people do. However it was, she
+was extremely pleas'd with the Place and Company. So nearly do's Hell
+counterfeit Heaven sometimes. At last, said one of the white Devils,
+wou'd my dear _Tommy_ were here! O Sister! (cry'd another) you won't be
+long without your wish: For my Husband and he went out together, and
+both promis'd to be here after the Play. Is my Brother Sir _Francis_
+with him there? (ask'd the first) yes, (answer'd the third) Sir _Thomas_
+and Sir _Francis_ took Coach from St. _James's_, about two Hours since:
+We shall be excellent Company when they come, (said a fourth); I hope
+they'll bring the Fiddlers with 'em, added the first: Don't you love
+Musick, Madam? (ask'd the old Lady _Beldam_) Sometimes, Madam, (reply'd
+_Philadelphia_) but now I am out o'tune myself. A little harmless Mirth
+will chear your drooping Spirits, my dear, (return'd t'other, taking her
+by the Hand) come! These are all my Relations, as I told you, Madam; and
+so consequently are their Husbands. Are these Ladies all marry'd, Madam?
+_Philadelphia_ ask'd. All, all, my dear Soul! (reply'd the insinuating
+Mother of Iniquity;) and thou shalt have a Husband too, e're long. Alas,
+Madam! (return'd the fair Innocent) I have no Merit, nor Money: Besides,
+I never yet could Love so well as to make Choice of one Man before
+another.
+
+How long have you liv'd then, Madam? (ask'd the Lady _Beldam_) too long
+by almost sixteen Years, (reply'd _Philadelphia_) had Heaven seen good.
+This Conversation lasted till Word was brought that Sir _Francis_ and
+Sir _Thomas_, with Two other Gentlemen were just lighted at the Gate:
+Which so discompos'd the fair Innocent, that trembling, she begg'd leave
+to retire to her Chamber. To which, after some Perswasion to the
+contrary, the venerable _Beldam_ waited on her. For, these were none of
+the Sparks to whom _Philadelphia_ was design'd to be Sacrific'd. In her
+Retirement, the Beautiful dear Creature had the Satisfaction of venting
+her Grief in Tears, and addressing herself to Heaven, on which only she
+trusted, notwithstanding all the fair Promises of her reverend Hostess;
+she had not been retir'd above an Hour, e're a She-attendant waited on
+her, to know if she wanted any thing, and what she wou'd please to have
+for her Supper; if she wou'd not give her Lady the Honour of her Company
+below? To which she return'd, that she wou'd not Sup, and that she
+wanted nothing but Rest, which she wou'd presently seek in Bed. This
+Answer brought up the Officious old Lady herself; who, by all Means
+wou'd needs see her undress'd, for other Reasons more than a bare
+Compliment; which she perform'd with a great deal of Ceremony, and a
+Diligence that seem'd more than double. For she had then the Opportunity
+of observing the Delicacy of her Skin, the fine turn of her Limbs, and
+the richness of her Night-dress, part of the Furniture of her Trunk. As
+soon as she had cover'd herself, she kiss'd and wish'd her a good
+Repose. The dear Soul, as Innocent and White as her Linen, return'd her
+Thanks, and address'd herself to Sleep; out of which she was waken'd by
+a loud Consort of Musick, in less than two Hours time, which continu'd
+till long after Midnight. This occasion'd strange and doubtful Thoughts
+in her, tho' she was altogether so unskill'd in these Mysteries, that
+she cou'd not guess the right Meaning. She apprehended, that (possibly)
+her Brother had a Mistress, from the Lady _Beldam's_ Discourse, and that
+this was their Place of Assignation: Suspecting too, that either Sir
+_Francis_, or Sir _Thomas_, of whom she had heard not long before, was
+Sir _William_, her Brother. The Musick and all the Noise in the House
+ceas'd about four a Clock in the Morning; when she again fell into a
+Sleep, that took away the Sense of her Sorrows, and Doubts 'till Nine;
+when she was again visited from her Lady, by the same She-attendant, to
+know how she had rested, and if she wou'd Please to Command her any
+Service. _Philadelphia_ reply'd, That she had rested very well most Part
+of the Morning, and that she wanted nothing, but to know how her Lady
+had Slept, and whether she were in Health, unless it were the Sight of
+her Brother. The Servant return'd with this Answer to her Lady, while
+_Philadelphia_ made shift to rise, and begin to Dress without an
+Assistant; but she had hardly put on anything more than her Night-gown,
+e're the Lady _Beldam_ herself came in her _Dishabille_, to assure her
+of her Brother's Company with 'em at Dinner, exactly at One a Clock; and
+finding _Philadelphia_ doing the Office of a Waiting-woman to herself,
+call'd up the same Servant, and in a great Heat (in which however she
+took Care to make Use of none of her familiar develish Dialect) ask'd
+the Reason that she durst leave the Lady when she was Rising. The Wench
+trembling, reply'd, That indeed the Lady did not let her know that she
+had any Thoughts of Rising. Well then (said her seeming offended Lady)
+stir not from her now, I charge you, 'till she shall think fit to
+dismiss you, and Command your Absence. Dear Madam, Good Morrow to you,
+(said she to _Philadelphia_) I'll make haste and Dress too. Good Morrow
+to your Ladyship (return'd the design'd Victim) when she was _Habille_,
+she desir'd the Servant to withdraw; after which she betook herself to
+her Devotion; at the end of which the Lady _Beldam_ return'd, attended
+by a Servant, who brought some Bread and Wine for her Breakfast; which
+might then be seasonable enough to _Philadelphia_; who cou'd not forbear
+discovering the Apprehensions she had of her Brother's Unkindness, still
+entertaining her _Reverence_, with the Fear she had of his
+Disappointment that Day at Dinner; which t'other oppos'd with all the
+seeming Reasons her Art cou'd suggest, 'till the Clock had struck
+Twelve; when a Servant came to tell the Lady _Beldam_, that one Sir
+_William Wilding_ wou'd certainly wait on her precisely at One, and
+desir'd that he might Dine in the young Lady's Apartment, to avoid being
+seen by any Visitants that might come; and besides, that he had invited
+a Gentleman, his particular Friend, to Dinner with him there. This
+Message being deliver'd aloud by the Servant, was no little Satisfaction
+to the poor desponding young Lady, who discours'd very chearfully of
+indifferent Matters, 'till the Clock gave 'em Notice that the Hour was
+come; within three Minutes after which, Word was brought to the Lady
+_Beldam_, that a Gentleman below enquir'd for Sir _William Wilding_,
+whom she immediately went down to receive, and led up to _Philadelphia_.
+Madam, (cry'd the great Mistress of her Art) this is the Gentleman whom
+Sir _William_ has invited to Dinner with us; and I am very Happy to see
+him, for he is my worthy Friend, and of a long Acquaintance. Trust me,
+Madam, he is a Man of Honour, and has a very large Estate: I doubt not
+(added she) that you will find his Merits in his Conversation. Here
+_Gracelove_, for that was the Gentleman's Name, saluted _Philadelphia_,
+and acquitted himself like a Person of good Sense and Education, in his
+first Address to her; which she return'd with all the Modesty and
+ingenuous Simplicity that was still proper to her. At last she ask'd him
+how long he thought it wou'd be e're Sir _William_ came? To which he
+reply'd, that Sir _William_ told him, unless he were there exactly at
+half an Hour after One, they shou'd not stay Dinner for him; that he had
+not parted with him much above a Quarter of an Hour, when he left him
+engag'd with particular Company, about some weighty Business: But
+however, that, if he shou'd be so unhappy as to lose their Conversation
+at Dinner, he wou'd not fail to wait on 'em by Four at farthest. The
+young Lady seem'd a little uneasie at this; but the Gentleman appearing
+so very Modest, and speaking it with such an assur'd Gravity, took away
+all Thoughts of Suspicion. To say Truth, _Gracelove_ was a very honest,
+modest, worthy and handsome Person; and had the Command, at present, of
+a many Thousand Pounds, he was by Profession a _Turkey_ Merchant: He had
+Travell'd much, for his Age, not having then reach'd Thirty, and had
+seen most of the Courts in _Christendom_: He was a Man of a sweet
+Temper, of just Principles, and of inviolable Friendship, where he
+promis'd; which was no where, but where 'twas merited. The Minute came
+then at length, but without any Sir _William_; so Dinner was serv'd up
+in the Room next to _Philadelphia's_ Bed-chamber. What they had was Nice
+and Seasonable; and they were all Three as Pleasant as cou'd be
+expected, without Sir _William_; to whose Health the Glass went round
+once or twice. Dinner over, and the Table clear'd, the old Lady _Beldam_
+entreated Mr. _Gracelove_ to entertain the young Lady with a Discourse
+of his Travels, and of the most remarkable Passages and Encounters of
+'em, which he perform'd with a Modesty and Gravity peculiar to himself;
+and in some part of his Discourse mov'd the innocent Passions of the
+beauteous and compassionate _Philadelphia_; who was as attentive as she
+us'd to be in Church at Divine Service. When the old Lady perceiv'd that
+he had made an end, or at least, that he desir'd to proceed no farther,
+she took Occasion to leave 'em together, in haste; pretending, that she
+had forgotten to give Orders to one of her Servants, about a Business of
+Moment, and that she wou'd return to 'em in a very little Time. The
+Gentleman, you may believe, was very well pleas'd with her Retreat,
+since he had a Discourse to make to _Philadelphia_ of a quite contrary
+Nature to the Preceding, which requir'd Privacy: But how grateful her
+Absence was to _Philadelphia_, we may judge by the Sequel. Madam, (said
+_Gracelove_) how do you like the Town? Have you yet seen any Man here
+whom you cou'd Love? Alas, Sir! (she reply'd) I have not seen the Town,
+only in a Coach, as I pass'd along, nor ever was in any House, except
+this and another, where my Brother lodg'd: And to your other Question I
+must Answer, that I Love all Men. That's generous, indeed, Madam!
+(cry'd he) there is then some hope that I am one of the Number. No
+doubt, Sir, (she return'd) that I Love you as well as any, except Sir
+_William_. Is he the happy Man then, Madam? (said _Gracelove_.) If to be
+loved best by me, may make any Man happy, doubtless it must be he, for
+he is my own Brother. I fancy, Madam, (return'd he) that you may make me
+as dear a Relation to you, as Sir _William_. How is that possible, Sir?
+she ask'd. Thus, Madam, (replied he, drawing closer to her) by our
+nearer Approaches to one another. O, Heaven defend me! (cried she aloud)
+what do you mean? Take away your Hand; you uncivil Man! Help! Madam! my
+Lady! O, (said _Gracelove_) she's gone purposely out of hearing. Am I
+betray'd then? She cried. Betray'd! as if your pretty innocent Ladyship
+did not know where you were lodged. Ah, Lady, (said he) this Faint will
+never do. Come, Child, (pursued he) here are an hundred Guineas for you;
+and I promise you Yearly as much, and Two Hundred with every Child that
+I shall get on thy sweet Body: Faith I love thee, thou pretty Creature.
+Come! let's be better acquainted! you know my Meaning. Hell does, no
+doubt of (she return'd!) O Monster a Man! I hate the Sight of you. With
+that she flung from him, and ran into the Bed-chamber, where she thought
+to have locked herself in; but the Key was conveyed into his Pocket.
+Thither, therefore, he pursued her, crying, Ah, Madam, this is the
+proper Field for our Dispute. Perceiving her Error, and animated by
+Despair, she rushed between him and the Door, into the outward Room
+again, he still following, and dodging her from Chair to Chair, she
+still Shrieking. At last (cried he) a Parley, Madam, with you. Let me
+ask you one Question, and will you Answer me directly and truly to it?
+Indeed, I will, (said she) if it be Civil. Don't you know then, that you
+are in a naughty House, and that old _Beldam_ is a rank Procuress, to
+whom I am to give Two hundred Guineas for your Maidenhead? O Heaven
+(cried she, kneeling with Tears gushing out from her dear Eyes) thou
+Asserter and Guardian of Innocence! protect me from the impious
+Practices intended against me! Then looking steadfastly on him, Sir,
+(pursued she) I can but Difficultly guess what you mean: But I find,
+that unless you prove what at first you seemed to me, I would say, an
+honest worthy Gentleman, I shall be in danger of eternal Ruin. You, Sir,
+are the only Person that may yet Preserve me. Therefore I beseech you,
+Sir, hear my Story, with the Injuries and Afflictions that so dreadfully
+torment me; of which, I am sure, none of those _Barbarians_, of which
+you had Occasion to speak but now, would have been guilty! O hear, and
+help me! for Heaven's Sake, hear and help me! I will, poor Creature,
+(return'd he) methinks I now begin to see my Crime and thy Innocence in
+thy Words and Looks. Here she recounted to him all the Accidents of her
+Life, since her Father's Decease, to that very Day, e're _Gracelove_
+came to Dinner. And now (cry'd she, sobbing and weeping) how dare I
+trust this naughty Brother again? Can I be safe with him, think you,
+Sir? O! no; thou dear sweet Creature! by no Means. O infernal Monsters,
+Brother and Bawd! If you distrust that I am yet his Sister, here, Sir,
+take this Key, (said she) and open that Trunk within, where you will
+find Letters from him to me in his own Hand; and from my own dear dead
+Father too, Sir _Edward_, that gracious, that good Man! He shew'd us
+both the Paths of Virtue: which I have not yet forsaken. Pray satisfy
+me, Sir, and see the Truth! For your Satisfaction I will, Madam,
+(said he) but I am now fully convinc'd that you have greater Beauties
+within, than those I admire without. Saying this, he open'd the Trunk,
+where he read a Line or two from her Father, and as many from her
+Brother, which having again laid down, return'd to her, with this
+Advice: I see, Madam, (said he) that you have Money there, and several
+Things of Value, which I desire you to secure about you this Moment; for
+I mean to deliver you out of this cursed Place, if you dare put any
+Confidence in a Stranger, after your own Brother has acted the Part of
+so great a Villain; if you dare trust a Stranger too, Madam, who had
+himself a Design upon you; Heaven forgive me for it! but by all Things
+sacred, I find my Error: I pity you, and I fear I shall love you. Do you
+fear that, Sir? (said she) Why I love you dearly now, because I see you
+are going to be good again; that is, you are going to be yourself again.
+I hope, nay, I resolve I will, tho' it cost me my Life (said he.) Can
+you submit, Madam, to attend on a young Lady of my Acquaintance here in
+Town, 'till I can provide better for you? O I can be any Thing;
+a Chamber-Maid, a Cook-Maid, a Scullion, what you shall think fit, tho'
+never so mean, that is not naughty. Well, Madam, (said he) compose your
+self then, and seem a little pleasant when I bring up that old Factoress
+of Hell. I will endeavour it, Sir, she return'd; and he went down to the
+Devil's chief Agent, to whom he said, that the poor Thing was at first
+very uneasy, but that now she had consented to go along with him for an
+Hour or two to some other Place, doubting your Secrecy; for she would
+not have her Brother know it, as she calls him, for a thousand Worlds,
+and more Money. Well, my Son, (reply'd old _Beldam_) you may take her
+with you: But you remember your Bargain. O fie, Mother! (cry'd he) did
+you ever know me false to you? No, no, you smock'd-fac'd Wag, (said she)
+but be sure you bring her again to Night, for fear Sir _William_ should
+come. Never doubt it! Come up with me, (cry'd he) you'll see a strange
+Alteration, I believe. To _Philadelphia_ they came then, whom they found
+walking about the Room, and looking something more pleasantly than she
+had ever done since she came thither. After she had taken her Money, and
+other Things of Value, so, Madam, (said _Beldam_) how does your Ladiship
+now? I find, the Sight of a young handsome Gentleman has work'd Wonders
+with you in a little Time: I understand you are going to take a Walk
+with my worthy Friend here, and 'tis well done: I dare trust you with
+him, but with no other Man living, except Sir _William_. Madam,
+(return'd the fair afflicted Lady) I am strangely oblig'd to you for
+your Care of me, and am sure I shall never be able to return your
+Obligations as I ought, and as I could wish. You won't stay late, Mr.
+_Gracelove_? (said the Mother of Mischief.) No, no, (reply'd he) I will
+only shew the Lady a Play, and return to Supper. What is play'd to
+Night? (ask'd the old One) _The Cheats, +Mother+, the Cheats._ (answer'd
+_Gracelove_.) Ha, (said _Beldam_, laughing) a very pretty Comedy,
+indeed! Ay, if well play'd, return'd he. At these Words, they went down,
+where a Coach was call'd; which carry'd 'em to Counsellor _Fairlaw's_
+House, in _Great Lincolns-Inn-Fields_, whom they found accidentally at
+Home; but his Lady and Daughter were just gone to Chapel, being then
+turn'd of Five. _Gracelove_ began his Apology to the good old
+Counsellor, who was his Relation, for bringing a strange Lady thither,
+with a Design to place her in his Family: But Sir, continu'd he, if you
+knew her sorrowful Story, you would be as ambitious of entertaining her,
+as I am earnest to entreat it of you. A very beautiful Lady 'tis,
+(return'd the Counsellor) and very modest, I believe. That I can witness
+(reply'd t'other.) Alas, Sir! (said the fair Unfortunate) I have nothing
+but my Modesty and honest Education to recommend me to your Regard. I am
+wrong'd and forsaken by my nearest Relation; then she wept
+extravagantly: That Gentleman can give you an Account of my Misfortunes,
+if he pleases, with greater Ease and less Trouble than my self. Not with
+less Trouble, believe me, Madam; (return'd _Gracelove_) and then began
+to inform _Fairlaw_ in every Point of her unhappy Circumstances. The
+good old Gentleman heard 'em with Amazement and Horror; but told her,
+however, that she need not despond, for he would take Care to right her
+against her Brother; and, that in the mean Time she should be as welcome
+to him as any of his nearest Kindred, except his Wife and Daughter.
+_Philadelphia_ would have knelt to thank him; but he told her, that
+humble Posture was due to none but Heaven, and the King sometimes. In a
+little While after, the Lady _Fairlaw_ and her Daughter came Home, who
+were surpriz'd at the Sight of a Stranger, but more at her Beauty, and
+most of all at her Story, which the good old Gentleman himself could not
+forbear relating to 'em: Which ended, the Mother and Daughter both
+kindly and tenderly embrac'd her, promising her all the Assistance
+within their Power, and bid her a thousand Welcomes. _Gracelove_ stay'd
+there 'till after Supper, and left her extremely satisfy'd with her new
+Station. 'Twas here she fix'd then; and her Deportment was so obliging,
+that they would not part with her for any Consideration. About three
+Days after her coming from that lewd Woman's House, _Gracelove_ took a
+Constable and some other Assistants, and went to _Beldam's_ to demand
+the Trunk, and what was in it, which at first her Reverence deny'd to
+return, 'till Mr. Constable produc'd the Emblem of his Authority, upon
+which it was deliver'd, without so much as re-minding _Gracelove_ of his
+Bargain; who then pretended he would search the House for Sir _William
+Wilding_; but her graceless Reverence swore most devoutly that he had
+never been there, and that she had neither seen nor heard from him since
+the Day he left _Philadelphia_ with her. With these Things, and this
+Account he return'd to Counsellor _Fairlaw's_, who desir'd _Gracelove_,
+if possible, to find out Sir _William_, and employ'd several others on
+the same Account. In less than a Month's Time _Gracelove_ had the good
+Fortune to find him at his Lodgings in _Soho-Square_, where he
+discours'd him about his Sister's Portion, and desir'd Sir _William_ to
+take some speedy Care for the Payment of it; otherwise she had Friends
+that would oblige him to it, tho' never so contrary to his Intentions.
+_Wilding_ ask'd where she was? t'other enquir'd where he left her? Sir
+_William_ reply'd, that he had plac'd her with an old grave Gentlewoman
+of his Acquaintance, and that he thought she was there still. No, Sir,
+(return'd _Gracelove_) I have deliver'd her out of the Jaws of Perdition
+and Hell. Come, Sir _William_, (answer'd he) 'twas impiously done, to
+leave your beautiful, young, and virtuous Sister, to the Management of
+that pernicious Woman. I found her at old _Beldam's_, who would have
+prostituted her to me for two hundred Guineas; but her heavenly Virtues
+might have secur'd and guarded her from more violent Attempts than mine.
+Blush, if you can, Sir! and repent of this! It will become you. If not,
+Sir, you will hear farther from your Servant, added he, and left him
+staring after him. This Discourse was a great Mortification to the
+Knight, whose Conscience, harden'd as it was, felt yet some Pain by it.
+He found he was not like to continue safe or at Ease there, where he
+immediately retreated into a Place of Sanctuary, call'd the _Savoy_,
+whither his whole Equipage was remov'd as soon as possible, he having
+left Order with his Servants, to report that he went out of Town that
+very Afternoon for his own Country. _Gracelove_ in the mean Time
+return'd to the Counsellor's, with a great deal of Joy, for having
+discover'd Sir _William_ at his Lodgings, which was likewise no little
+Satisfaction to _Fairlaw_, his Lady and Daughter; _Philadelphia_ only
+was disturb'd when she heard the good old Gentleman threaten to lay her
+Brother fast enough: But, alas! he was too cunning for 'em; for in a
+whole Twelvemonth after, all which Time they made Enquiry, and narrowly
+search'd for him, they could not see him, nor any one that could give an
+Account of him, for he had chang'd his true Name and Title, for that of
+'Squire _Sportman_. The farther Pursuit of him then seem'd fruitless to
+'em, and they were forc'd to be contented with their Wishes to find him.
+
+_Gracelove_ by this Time had entertain'd the sincerest Affections and
+noblest Passion that Man can be capable of, for _Philadelphia_; of which
+he had made her sensible, who had at that Time comply'd with his
+honourable Demands, had she not entreated him to expect a kind Turn of
+Providence, which might, (happily) e're long, put her in Possession of
+her Right; without which, she told him, she could not consent to marry
+him, who had so plentiful a Fortune, and she nothing but her Person and
+Innocence. How, Madam! (cry'd he) have you no Love in Store for me! Yes,
+Sir, (return'd she) as much as you can wish I have in Store for you, and
+so I beg it may be kept 'till a better Opportunity. Well, Madam,
+(said he) I must leave you for some Months, perhaps for a whole Year;
+I have receiv'd Letters of Advice that urge the Necessity of my going to
+_Turkey_; I have not a Week's Time to endeavour so dreaded a Separation
+as I must suffer; therefore, thou beautiful, thou dear, thou virtuous
+Creature, let me begin now! Here, thou tenderest Part of my Soul!
+(continu'd he, giving her a rich Diamond Ring) wear this 'till my
+Return! I hope the Sight of it may sometimes re-call the dying Memory of
+_Gracelove_ to your better-busy'd Thoughts. Ah, _Gracelove_! (said she)
+nothing can so well, nothing I am sure can better employ my Thoughts,
+than thy dear self: Heaven only excepted. They enlarg'd a great deal
+more on this Subject at that Time; but the Night before his Departure
+was entirely spent in Sighs, Vows, and Tears, on both Sides. In the
+Morning, after he had again entreated his Cousin's, and the Lady's, and
+her Daughter's Care and Kindness to _Philadelphia_, the remaining and
+best Part of his Soul, with one hearty Kiss, accompany'd with Tears, he
+took a long Farewel of his dear Mistress, who pursu'd him with her Eyes,
+'till they could give her no farther Intelligence of him; and they
+help'd her Kindness to him, and eas'd her Grief for his Absence in
+weeping for above a Week together, when in private. He never omitted
+writing to her and his Cousin by every Opportunity, for near nine
+Months, as he touch'd at any Port; but afterwards they could not hear
+from him for above half a Year; when, by Accident, the Counsellor met a
+Gentleman of _Gracelove's_ Acquaintance at a Coffee-House, who gave him
+an Account, that the Ship and he were both cast away, near five Months
+since; that most if not all of the Ship's Company perish'd; of which,
+'twas fear'd, _Gracelove_ was one, having never since been heard of.
+That his Loss in that Ship amounted to above twelve thousand Pounds:
+With this dreadful and amazing News the good old Gentleman returns Home,
+afflicts his poor sorrowful Lady and Daughter, and almost kills unhappy
+_Philadelphia_; who the next Day, by mere Chance, and from a Stranger,
+who came on Business to the Counsellor, heard, that one Sir _William
+Wilding_, an extravagant, mad, young Spark of such a County, who lately
+went by the borrow'd Name and Title of 'Squire _Sportman_, had mortgag'd
+all his Estate, which was near four thousand a Year, and carry'd the
+Money over with him into _France_ on Saturday last. This, added to the
+former News, put so great a Check on her Spirits, that she immediately
+dropp'd down in a Swoon; whence she only recover'd, to fall into what
+was of a much more dangerous Consequence, a violent Feaver, which held
+her for near six Weeks, e're she could get Strength enough to go down
+Stairs: In all which Time, Madam _Fairlaw_ and _Eugenia_, her Daughter,
+attended her as carefully and constantly, as if they had been her own
+Mother and Sister: The good old Counsellor still commending and
+encouraging their Care. The Roses and Lillies at last took their Places
+again; but the Clouds of her Sorrow were still but too visible. Two
+Years more past, without one Word of Advice from _Gracelove_ or any
+Account of him from any one else; insomuch, that they all concluded he
+was certainly dead: And, 'twas true, indeed, that his Ship and he were
+cast away, much about that Time that the Gentleman gave _Fairlaw_ a
+Relation: That 'twas certain he had lost above 12000_l._ and had like
+to have lost his Life; but being very expert in Swimming, he got to
+Shoar upon the Coast of _Barbary_, the Wreck happening not to be above
+three Leagues thence; he was in almost as bad a Condition as if he had
+been drown'd, for here he was made a Prisoner to one of the Natives; in
+which miserable Circumstance he lanquish'd for above six Years, for Want
+of a Ransom; which he had often endeavour'd to raise by Letters, that he
+sent hither to his Friends (in _England_;) amongst which Counsellor
+_Fairlaw_ was one of his most particular and assur'd. But however
+Providence or Accident, if you please, order'd it, not a Line came to
+the Hands of any of his Friends; so that had not Heaven had yet a future
+Blessing in Store for him, he had certainly have better perish'd in the
+Sea, than to have fall'n into the Power of a People less merciful than
+Seas, Winds, or hungry wild Beasts in Pursuit of their Prey. But this
+could not be learn'd (it seems) from any Man but himself, upon his
+Return, after his Redemption.
+
+Two Years more pass'd on; towards the latter of which the old Lady
+_Fairlaw_ took her Bed, desperately sick, insomuch that she was given
+over by all her Physicians; she continu'd in great Misery for near two
+Months; in all which Time _Philadelphia_ was constantly with her all the
+Day, or all the Night; much about that Time she dy'd; and, dying, told
+her Husband, that she had observ'd he had a particular Esteem or
+Kindness for _Philadelphia_; which was now a great Satisfaction to her;
+since she was assur'd, that if he marry'd her, she would prove an
+excellent Nurse to him, and prolong his Life by some Years. As for
+_Eugenia_, (added she) you need not be concern'd; I'm sure she will
+consent to any Thing that you shall propose, having already so
+plentifully provided for her. The good old Gentleman answer'd, that he
+would fulfil her Will as far as lay in his Power: And not long after,
+she departed this Life. Her Burial was very handsome and honourable.
+Half a Year was now expir'd since her Interment, when the old Counsellor
+began to plead his own Cause to young _Philadelphia_, reminding her that
+now the Death of _Gracelove_ was out of Question; and that therefore she
+was as much at her Liberty to make her own Choice of an Husband as he
+was of a Wife; not forgetting, at the same Time, to let her know, that
+his Widow, (whoever had the good Fortune to be so) would be worth above
+thirty thousand Pounds in ready Money, besides a thousand a Year. But,
+above all, he urg'd his dying Lady's last Advice to him, that he would
+marry her; and hop'd she would see the Will of the Dead satisfy'd. The
+young Lady being broken in Sorrows, and having mortify'd all her
+Appetites to the Enjoyments of this World, and not knowing where to meet
+with so fair an Overture, tho' at first, in Modesty, she seem'd to
+refuse it as too great an Honour, yet yielded to less than a Quarter of
+an Hour's Courtship. And the next Sunday marry'd they were, with the
+Consent, and to the perfect Satisfaction of, his Daughter, Madam
+_Eugenia_; who lov'd _Philadelphia_ sincerely. They kept their
+Wedding very nobly for a Month, at their own House in _Great
+Lincolns-Inn-Fields_; but the Memory of the old Lady was still so fresh
+with the young Lady _Fairlaw_, that she prevail'd with him to remove to
+another, more convenient as she fancy'd, in _Covent-Garden_. They had
+dwelt there not much more than four Months, e're the good old Gentleman
+fell sick and dy'd. Whether it were the Change of an old House for a
+new, or an old Wife for a young, is yet uncertain, tho' his Physicians
+said, and are still of Opinion, that, doubtless, it was the last. 'Tis
+past all Doubt, that she did really mourn for and lament his Death; for
+she lov'd him perfectly, and pay'd him all the dutiful respect of a
+virtuous Wife, while she liv'd within that State with him; which he
+rewarded as I have said before. His Funeral was very sumptuous and
+honourable indeed! and as soon as it was over, _Eugenia_ desir'd her
+young beautiful Mother-in-Law to retreat a little with her into the
+Country, to a pleasant House she had, not twenty Miles distant from
+Town; urging, That she could by no Means enjoy her self under that Roof,
+where her dear Father dy'd. The obliging Step-mother, who might more
+properly have been call'd her Sister, being exactly of the same Age with
+her, readily comply'd, and she pass'd away all that Summer with
+_Eugenia_, at their Country-Seat, and most Part of the Winter too; for
+_Eugenia_ could by no Means be prevail'd on to lie one Night in her
+Mother's House; 'twas with some Reluctancy that she consented to dine
+there sometimes. At length the whole Year of _Philadelphia's_ Widowhood
+was expir'd; during which, you can't but imagine that she was solicited
+and address'd to by as many Lovers, or pretended Lovers, as our dear
+King _Charles_, whom God grant long to reign, was lately by the
+Presbyterians, Independants, Anabaptists, and all those canting whiggish
+Brethren! But she had never lik'd any Man so well as to make him her
+Husband, by Inclination, unless it was _Gracelove_, devour'd by the
+greedy Inhabitants of the Sea.
+
+Whilst her Fortune began to mend thus, her Brother's grew worse; but
+that was indeed the Effect of his Extravagancy: In less than two Years
+Time, he had spent eight thousand Pounds in _France_, whence he return'd
+to _England_, and pursuing his old profuse Manner of Living, contracted
+above 100_l._ Debts here, in less than four Months Time; which not being
+able to satisfy, he was arrested, and thrown into a Goal, whence he
+remov'd himself into the _King's Bench_, on that very Day that old
+_Fairlaw_ dy'd. There, at first, for about a Month, he was entertain'd
+like a Gentleman; but finding no Money coming, nor having a Prospect of
+any, the Marshal and his Instruments turn'd him to the Common Side,
+where he learnt the Art of Peg-making, a Mystery to which he had been a
+Stranger all his Life long 'till then. 'Twas then he wish'd he might see
+his Sister, hoping that she was in a Condition to relieve him; which he
+was apt to believe, from the Discourse he had with _Gracelove_ some
+Years past. Often he wish'd to see her, but in vain; however, the next
+_Easter_ after the old Counsellor's Death, _Philadelphia_, according to
+his Custom, sent her Steward to relieve all the poor Prisoners about
+Town; among the rest he visited those in the common Side of the _King's
+Bench_, where he heard 'em call Sir _William Wilding_ to partake of his
+Lady's Charity. The poor Prodigal was then feeding on the Relief of the
+Basket, not being yet able to get his Bread at his new Trade: To him the
+Steward gave a Crown, whereas the other had but Half a Crown apiece.
+Then he enquir'd of some of the unhappy Gentlemen, Sir _William's_
+Fellow-Collegians, of what Country Sir _William_ was? How long he had
+been there? And how much his Debts were? All of which he receiv'd a
+satisfactory Account. Upon his Return to his Lady, he repeated the
+dismal News of her Brother's Misfortunes to her; who immediately
+dispatch'd him back again to the Prison, with Orders to give him twenty
+Shillings more at present, and to get him remov'd to the Master's Side,
+into a convenient Chamber, for the Rent of which the Steward engag'd to
+pay; and promis'd him, as she had commanded, twenty Shillings a Week, as
+long as he stay'd there, on Condition that he would give the Names of
+all his Creditors, and of all those to whom he had engag'd any Part of
+his Estate; which the poor Gentleman did most readily and faithfully:
+After which, the Steward enquir'd for a Taylor, who came and took
+Measure of _Philadelphia's_ unkind Brother, and was order'd to provide
+him Linnen, a Hat, Shoes, Stockings, and all such Necessaries, not so
+much as omitting a Sword: With all which he acquainted his Lady at his
+Return; who was very much griev'd at her Brother's unhappy
+Circumstances, and at the same Time extremely well pleas'd to find her
+self in a Condition to relieve him. The Steward went constantly once a
+Week to pay him his Money; and Sir _William_ was continually very
+curious to know to whom he was oblig'd for so many and great Favours;
+But he was answer'd, That they came from a Lady who desir'd to have her
+Name conceal'd. In less than a Year, _Philadelphia_ had paid 25000_l._
+and taken off the Mortgages on 2500_l._ _per Annum_ of her Brother's
+Estate; and coming to Town from _Eugenia's_ Country-House one Day, to
+make the last Payment of two thousand Pounds, looking out of her Coach
+on the Road, near _Dartford_, she saw a Traveller on Foot, who seem'd to
+be tir'd with his Journey, whose Face, she thought, she had formerly
+known: This Thought invited her to look on him so long, that she, at
+last, perswaded her self it was _Gracelove_, or his Ghost: For, to say
+Truth, he was very pale and thin, his Complexion swarthy, and his
+Cloaths (perhaps) as rotten as if he had been bury'd in 'em. However,
+unpleasant as it was, she could not forbear gazing after this miserable
+Spectacle; and the more she beheld it, the more she was confirmed it was
+_Gracelove_, or something that had usurp'd his Figure. In short, she
+could not rest 'till she call'd to one of her Servants, who rode by the
+Coach, whom she strictly charg'd to go to that poor Traveller, and mount
+him on his Horse, 'till they came to _Dartford_; where she order'd him
+to take him to the same Inn where she baited, and refresh him with any
+Thing that he would eat or drink; and after that, to hire a Horse for
+him, to come to Town with them: That then he should be brought Home to
+her own House, and be carefully look'd after, 'till farther Orders from
+her. All which was most duly and punctually perform'd.
+
+The next Morning early she sent for the Steward, whom she order'd to
+take the Stranger to a Sale-shop, and fit him with a Suit of good
+Cloaths, to buy him Shirts, and other Linnen, and all Necessaries, as he
+had provided for her Brother; and gave him Charge to use him as her
+particular Friend, during his Stay there, bidding him, withal, learn his
+Name and Circumstances, if possible, and to supply him with Money for
+his Pocket Expences: All which he most faithfully and discreetly
+perform'd, and brought his Lady an Account of his Sufferings by Sea, and
+Slavery among the _Turks_, as I have before related; adding, that his
+Name was _Gracelove_. This was the greatest Happiness, certainly, that
+ever yet the dear beautiful Creature was sensible of. On t'other Side,
+_Gracelove_ could not but admire and praise his good Fortune, that had
+so miraculously and bountifully reliev'd him; and one Day having some
+private Discourse with the Steward, he could not forbear expressing the
+Sense he had of it; declaring, That he could not have expected such kind
+Treatment from any Body breathing, but from his Cousin, Counsellor
+_Fairlaw_, his Lady, or another young Lady, whom he plac'd and left with
+his Cousins. Counsellor _Fairlaw_! (cry'd the Steward) why, Sir, my Lady
+is the old Counsellor's Widow; she is very beautiful and young too. What
+was her Name, Sir, before she marry'd the Counsellor? (ask'd
+_Gracelove_) That I know not, (reply'd t'other) for the old Steward dy'd
+presently after the old Lady, which is not a Year and a Half since; in
+whose Place I succeed; and I have never been so curious or inquisitive,
+as to pry into former Passages of the Family. Do you know, Sir, (said
+_Gracelove_) whereabouts in Town they liv'd before? Yes, Sir,
+(return'd the Steward, who was taught how to answer) in _Great
+Lincolns-Inn-Fields_, I think, Alas! (cry'd _Gracelove_) 'twas the same
+Gentleman to whom I design'd to apply my self when I came to _England_.
+You need not despair now, Sir, (said t'other) I dare say my Lady will
+supply your Wants. O wonderful Goodness of a Stranger! (cry'd
+_Gracelove_) uncommon and rare amongst Relations and Friends! How have
+I, or how can I ever merit this? Upon the End of their Conference, the
+Steward went to _Philadelphia_, and repeated it almost _verbatim_ to
+her; who order'd _Gracelove_ should be taken Measure of by the best
+Taylor in _Covent-Garden_; that he should have three of the most modish
+rich Suits made, that might become a private Gentleman of a Thousand
+Pounds a Year, and Hats, Perukes, Linnen, Swords, and all Things
+suitable to 'em, all to be got ready in less than a Month; in which
+Time, she took all the Opportunity she could either find or make to see
+him, and not to be seen by him: She oblig'd her Steward to invite him to
+a Play, whither she follow'd 'em, and sate next to _Gracelove_, and
+talk'd with him; but all the while masq'd. In this Month's Time she was
+daily pester'd with the Visits of her Addressors; several there were of
+'em; but the chief were only a Lord of a very small Estate, tho' of a
+pretty great Age; a young blustering Knight, who had a Place of 500_l._
+a Year at Court; and a County Gentleman, of a very plentiful Estate,
+a Widower, and of a middle Age. These three only of her Lovers she
+invited to Dinner, on the first Day of the next Month: In the mean while
+she sent a rich Suit, and Equipage proportionable, to her Brother, with
+an Invitation to dine with her on the same Day. Then she writ to
+_Eugenia_ to come and stay in Town, if not in the same House with her,
+for two or three Days before; which her affectionate Daughter obey'd; to
+whom _Philadelphia_ related all her Brother's past Extravagancies and
+what she had done for him in redeeming most Part of his Estate; begging
+of her, that if she could fancy his Person, she would take him into her
+Mercy and marry him. Being assur'd, that such a virtuous Wife as she
+would prove, must necessarily reclaim him, if yet he were not perfectly
+convinc'd of his Follies; which, she doubted not, his late long
+Sufferings had done. _Eugenia_ return'd, That she would wholly be
+directed and advis'd by her in all Things; and that certainly she could
+not but like the Brother, since she lov'd the Sister so perfectly and
+truly.
+
+The Day came, and just at Twelve, _Gracelove_, meeting the Steward on
+the Stairs coming from his Lady, _Gracelove_ then told him, that he
+believ'd he might take the Opportunity of that Afternoon to go over to
+_Putney_, and take a Game or two at Bowls. The Steward return'd, Very
+well, Sir, I shall let my Lady know it, if she enquires for you.
+_Philadelphia_, who overheard what they said, call'd the Steward in
+Haste, and bid him call _Gracelove_ back, and tell him, she expected his
+Company at her Table to Day, and that she desir'd he would appear like
+himself. The Steward soon overtook him at the Door, just going out as
+_Eugenia_ came in, who look'd back on _Gracelove_: The poor Gentleman
+was strangely surpriz'd at the Sight of her, as she was at his; but the
+Steward's Message did more amaze and confound him. He went directly to
+his Chamber, to dress himself in one of those rich Suits lately made for
+him; but, the Distraction he was in, made him mistake his Coat for his
+Wastcoat, and put the Coat on first; but, recalling his straggling
+Thoughts, he made Shift to get ready time enough to make his Appearance
+without a second Summons. _Philadelphia_ was as pleasant at Dinner, as
+ever she had been all her Life; she look'd very obligingly on all the
+Sparks, and drank to every one of 'em particularly, beginning to the
+Lord--and ending to the Stranger, who durst hardly lift up his Eyes a
+second Time to her's, to confirm him that he knew her. Her Brother was
+so confounded, that he bow'd and continu'd his Head down 'till she had
+done drinking, not daring to encounter her Eyes, that would then have
+reproach'd him with his Villany to her.
+
+After Dinner the Cloth was taken away; She began thus to her Lovers: My
+Lord! Sir _Thomas_! and Mr. _Fat-acres_! I doubt not, that it will be of
+some Satisfaction to you, to know whom I have made Choice for my next
+Husband; which now I am resolv'd no longer to defer.
+
+The Person to whom I shall next drink, must be the Man who shall ever
+command me and my Fortune, were it ten times greater than it is; which I
+wish only for his Sake, since he deserves much more.--Here, (said she to
+one that waited) put Wine into two Glasses: Then she took the Diamond
+Ring from her Finger, and put it into one of 'em. My dear _Gracelove_,
+(cry'd she) I drank to thee; and send thee back thy own Ring, with
+_Philadelphia's_ Heart. He startl'd, blush'd, and looked wildly; whilst
+all the Company stared on him. Nay, pledge me, (persu'd she) and return
+me the Ring: for it shall make us both one the next Morning. He bow'd,
+kiss'd, and return'd it, after he had taken off his Wine. The defeated
+Lovers knew not how to resent it? The Lord and Knight were for going,
+but the Country Gentleman oppos'd it, and told 'em, 'twas the greatest
+Argument of Folly, to be disturb'd at the Caprice of a Woman's Humour.
+They sate down again therefore, and she invited 'em to her Wedding on
+the Morrow.
+
+And now, Brother, (said she) I have not quite forgotten you, tho' you
+have not been pleas'd to take Notice of me: I have a Dish in Reserve for
+you, which will be more grateful to your Fancy than all you have tasted
+to Day. Here! (cry'd she to the Steward) Mr. _Rightman_, do you serve up
+that Dish your self. _Rightman_ then set a cover'd Dish on the Table.
+What! more Tricks yet? (cry'd my Lord and Sir _Thomas_) Come, Sir
+_William_! (said his Sister) uncover it! he did so; and cry'd out,
+O matchless Goodness of a virtuous Sister! here are the Mortgages of the
+best Part of my Estate! O! what a Villain! what a Monster have I been!
+no more, dear Brother; (said she, with Tears in her Eyes) I have yet a
+greater Happiness in Store for you: This Lady, this beautiful virtuous
+Lady, with twenty thousand Pounds, will make you happy in her Love.
+Saying this, she join'd their Hands; Sir _William_ eagerly kiss'd
+_Eugenia's_, who blush'd, and said, Thus, Madam, I hope to shew how much
+I love and honour you. My Cousin _Eugenia_! (cry'd _Gracelove_!) The
+same, my dear lost dead Cousin _Gracelove_! (reply'd she) O! (said he in
+a Transport) my present Joys are greater than all my past Miseries! my
+Mistress and my Friend are found, and still are mine. Nay, (faith, said
+my Lord) this is pleasant enough to me, tho' I have been defeated of the
+Enjoyment of the Lady. The whole Company in general went away very well
+that Night, who return'd the next Morning, and saw the two happy Pair
+firmly united.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unfortunate Happy Lady.
+
+
+p. 43 _Ros Solis._ A potent and well-liked tipple.
+
+  We abandon all ale
+  And beer that is stale
+  Rosa-solis and damnable hum,
+  But we will rack
+  In the praise of sack
+  'Gainst Omne quod exit in um.
+
+    --_Witts Recreation_ (1654).
+
+_The Accomplished Female Instructor_ gives the following recipe: 'Rossa
+Solis; Take of clean spirits, not too strong, two quarts and a quart of
+spring-water; let them seethe gently over a soft fire till about a pint
+is evaporated; then put in four spoonfuls of orange-flower-water, and as
+much of very good cinnamon-water; crush 3 eggs in pieces, and throw them
+in shell and all; stir it well, and when it boiles up a little take it
+off.' This drink was so great a favourite with Louis XIV that a
+particular sort was named Rossolis du Roi.
+
+p. 51 _The Cheats, Mother, the Cheats._ John Wilson's excellent comedy,
+_The Cheats_, which was written and produced in 1662, attained great
+popularity. It ran into four editions ('imprimatur, 5 November, 1663');
+4to, 1664; 1671; 1684; 1693. Caustically satirizing the Puritans, it
+became a stock piece, and was acted as late as May, 1721, when Griffin,
+Harper, Diggs, and Mrs. Gifford sustained the parts which had been
+created by Lacy, Mohun, Hart, and Mrs. Corey.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE FAIR JILT.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Although _The Fair Jilt_ was published in 1688, it is interesting to
+note that ten years earlier, Michaelmas Term, 1678, there is advertised
+for R. Tonson _The Amorous Convert; being a true Relation of what
+happened in Holland_, which may very well be the first sketch of Mrs.
+Behn's maturer novel. The fact that she does not 'pretend here to
+entertain you with a feign'd story,' but on the contrary, 'every
+circumstance to a tittle is truth', and that she expressly asserts, 'To
+a great part of the main I myself was an eye-witness', aroused
+considerable suspicion in Bernbaum as to the veracity of her narration,
+a suspicion which, when he gravely discovers history to know no such
+person as her 'Prince Tarpuin of the race of the last Kings of Rome', is
+resolved into a certainty that she is romancing fully and freely
+throughout. It is surely obvious that such a point does not so much
+demonstrate Mrs. Behn's untruthfulness as her consummate art. With all
+the nice skill of a born novelist she has so mingled fact and fancy,
+what did occur and what might have been, that any attempt to disentangle
+the twain would be idle indeed. The passages where she is most insistent
+upon the due sequence of events, most detailed in observation are not
+impossibly purely fictional, the incidents related without stress or
+emphatic assertions are probably enough the plain unvarnished happenings
+as she witnessed them. That the history is mainly true admits of little
+question; that Mrs. Behn has heightened and coloured the interest is
+equally certain.
+
+_The Fair Jilt_ must be allowed to stand in the very first rank amongst
+her novels. It has been aptly compared to a novella by Bandello, and is
+indeed more than worthy of the pen of the good Dominican Bishop of Agen.
+In all its incidents and motives the story is eternally true. The
+fateful beauty, playing now the part of Potiphar's wife, and now the yet
+commoner role of an enchantress whose charms drive men to madness and
+crime, men who adore her even from their prison cell and are glad to go
+to a shameful death for her sake, appears in all history, in all
+literature, nay, in the very newspaper scandals and police courts of
+to-day. As a picture of untrammelled passion, culpable and corrupt, but
+yet terribly fascinating in her very recklessness and abandon, Miranda
+is indeed a powerful study. Always guilty, she is always excused, or if
+punished but sparingly and little, whilst the friar languishes in a foul
+dungeon, the page-boy is hanged, her husband stands upon the public
+scaffold. And then in the end, 'very penitent for her life past', she is
+received with open arms by Tarquin's old father, who looks upon her as a
+very angel, and retiring to the tranquility of a country-house she
+passes her days in 'as perfect a state of happiness as this troublesome
+world can afford'.
+
+
+
+
+  To
+  HENRY PAIN, ESQ;
+
+  Sir,
+
+Dedications are like Love, and no Man of Wit or Eminence escapes them;
+early or late, the Affliction of the Poet's Complement falls upon him;
+and Men are oblig'd to receive 'em as they do their Wives; _For better,
+for worse_; at lest with a feign'd Civility.
+
+It was not Want of Respect, but Fear, that has hitherto made us keep
+clear of your Judgment, too piercing to be favourable to what is not
+nicely valuable. We durst not awaken your Criticism; and by begging your
+Protection in the Front of a Book, give you an Occasion to find nothing
+to deserve it. Nor can this little History lay a better Claim to that
+Honour, than those that have not pretended to it; which has but this
+Merit to recommend it, That it is Truth: Truth, which you so much
+admire. But 'tis a Truth that entertains you with so many Accidents
+diverting and moving, that they will need both a Patron, and an Assertor
+in this incredulous World. For however it may be imagin'd that Poetry
+(my Talent) has so greatly the Ascendant over me, that all I write must
+pass for Fiction, I now desire to have it understood that this is
+Reality, and Matter of Fact, and acted in this our latter Age: And that
+in the person of _Tarquin_, I bring a Prince to kiss your Hands, who
+own'd himself, and was receiv'd, as the last of the Race of the _Roman_
+Kings; whom I have often seen, and you have heard of; and whose Story is
+so well known to your self, and many Hundreds more: Part of which I had
+from the Mouth of this unhappy great Man, and was an Eye-Witness to the
+rest.
+
+'Tis true, Sir, I present you with a Prince unfortunate, but still the
+more noble Object for your Goodness and Pity; who never valu'd a brave
+Man the less for being unhappy. And whither shou'd the Afflicted flee
+for Refuge but to the Generous? Amongst all the Race, he cannot find a
+better Man, or more certain Friend: Nor amongst all his Ancestors, match
+your greater Soul, and Magnificence of Mind. He will behold in one
+_English_ Subject, a Spirit as illustrious, a Heart as fearless, a Wit
+and Eloquence as excellent, as _Rome_ it self cou'd produce. Its Senate
+scarce boasted of a better States-man, nor Augustus of a more faithful
+Subject; as your Imprisonment and Sufferings, through all the Course of
+our late National Distractions, have sufficiently manifested; But
+nothing cou'd press or deject your great Heart; you were the same Man
+still, unmov'd in all Turns, easie and innocent; no Persecution being
+able to abate your constant good Humour, or wonted Gallantry.
+
+If, Sir, you find here a Prince of less Fortitude and Vertue than your
+self, charge his Miscarriages on Love: a Weakness of that Nature you
+will easily excuse, (being so great a Friend to the Fair;) though
+possibly, he gave a Proof of it too Fatal to his Honour. Had I been to
+have form'd his Character, perhaps I had made him something more worthy
+of the Honour of your Protection: But I was oblig'd to pursue the Matter
+of Fact, and give a just Relation of that part of his Life which,
+possibly, was the only reproachful part of it. If he be so happy, as to
+entertain a Man of Wit and Business, I shall not fear his Welcome to the
+rest of the World: And 'tis only with your Passport he can hope to
+be so.
+
+The particular Obligations I have to your Bounty and Goodness, O Noble
+Friend, and Patron of the _Muses_! I do not so much as pretend to
+acknowledge in this little Present; those being above the Poet's Pay,
+which is a sort of Coin, not currant in this Age: though perhaps may be
+esteem'd as Medals in the Cabinets of Men of Wit. If this be so happy to
+be of that Number, I desire no more lasting a Fame, that it may bear
+this Inscription, that I am,
+
+  SIR,
+    Your most Obliged, and
+      Most Humble Servant,
+        _A. BEHN_.
+
+
+
+
+THE _FAIR JILT_: or, The Amours of Prince _Tarquin_ and _Miranda_.
+
+
+As Love is the most noble and divine Passion of the Soul, so it is that
+to which we may justly attribute all the real Satisfactions of Life; and
+without it Man is unfinish'd and unhappy.
+
+There are a thousand things to be said of the Advantages this generous
+Passion brings to those, whose Hearts are capable of receiving its soft
+Impressions; for 'tis not every one that can be sensible of its tender
+Touches. How many Examples, from History and Observation, could I give
+of its wondrous Power; nay, even to a Degree of Transmigration! How many
+Idiots has it made wise! How many Fools eloquent! How many home-bred
+Squires accomplish'd! How many Cowards brave! And there is no sort of
+Species of Mankind on whom it cannot work some Change and Miracle, if it
+be a noble well-grounded Passion, except on the Fop in Fashion, the
+harden'd incorrigible Fop; so often wounded, but never reclaim'd: For
+still, by a dire Mistake, conducted by vast Opiniatrety, and a greater
+Portion of Self-love, than the rest of the Race of Man, he believes that
+Affectation in his Mein and Dress, that Mathematical Movement, that
+Formality in every Action, that a Face manag'd with Care, and soften'd
+into Ridicule, the languishing Turn, the Toss, and the Back-shake of the
+Periwig, is the direct Way to the Heart of the fine Person he adores;
+and instead of curing Love in his Soul, serves only to advance his
+Folly; and the more he is enamour'd, the more industriously he assumes
+(every Hour) the Coxcomb. These are Love's Play-things, a sort of
+Animals with whom he sports; and whom he never wounds, but when he is in
+good Humour, and always shoots laughing. 'Tis the Diversion of the
+little God, to see what a Fluttering and Bustle one of these Sparks,
+new-wounded, makes; to what fantastick Fooleries he has Recourse: The
+Glass is every Moment call'd to counsel, the Valet consulted and plagu'd
+for new Invention of Dress, the Footman and Scrutore perpetually
+employ'd; _Billet-doux_ and _Madrigals_ take up all his Mornings, till
+Play-time in dressing, till Night in gazing; still, like a Sun-flower,
+turn'd towards the Beams of the fair Eyes of his _Caelia_, adjusting
+himself in the most amorous Posture he can assume, his Hat under his
+Arm, while the other Hand is put carelesly into his Bosom, as if laid
+upon his panting Heart; his Head a little bent to one Side, supported
+with a World of Cravat-string, which he takes mighty Care not to put
+into Disorder; as one may guess by a never-failing and horrid Stiffness
+in his Neck; and if he had any Occasion to look aside, his whole Body
+turns at the same Time, for Fear the Motion of the Head alone should
+incommode the Cravat or Periwig: And sometimes the Glove is well
+manag'd, and the white Hand display'd. Thus, with a thousand other
+little Motions and Formalities, all in the common Place or Road of
+Foppery, he takes infinite Pains to shew himself to the Pit and Boxes,
+a most accomplish'd Ass. This is he, of all human Kind, on whom Love can
+do no Miracles, and who can no where, and upon no Occasion, quit one
+Grain of his refin'd Foppery, unless in a Duel, or a Battle, if ever his
+Stars should be so severe and ill-manner'd, to reduce him to the
+Necessity of either: Fear then would ruffle that fine Form he had so
+long preserv'd in nicest Order, with Grief considering, that an unlucky
+Chance-wound in his Face, if such a dire Misfortune should befal him,
+would spoil the Sale of it for ever.
+
+Perhaps it will be urg'd, that since no Metamorphosis can be made in a
+Fop by Love, you must consider him one of those that only talks of Love,
+and thinks himself that happy Thing, a Lover; and wanting fine Sense
+enough for the real Passion, believes what he feels to be it. There are
+in the Quiver of the God a great many different Darts; some that wound
+for a Day, and others for a Year; they are all fine, painted, glittering
+Darts, and shew as well as those made of the noblest Metal; but the
+Wounds they make reach the Desire only, and are cur'd by possessing,
+while the short-liv'd Passion betrays the Cheat. But 'tis that refin'd
+and illustrious Passion of the Soul, whose Aim is Virtue, and whose end
+is Honour, that has the Power of changing Nature, and is capable of
+performing all those heroick Things, of which History is full.
+
+How far distant Passions may be from one another, I shall be able to
+make appear in these following Rules. I'll prove to you the strong
+Effects of Love in some unguarded and ungovern'd Hearts; where it rages
+beyond the Inspirations of _a God all soft and gentle_, and reigns more
+like _a Fury from Hell_.
+
+I do not pretend here to entertain you with a feign'd Story, or any
+Thing piec'd together with romantick Accidents; but every Circumstance,
+to a Tittle, is Truth. To a great Part of the Main I myself was an
+Eye-witness; and what I did not see, I was confirm'd of by Actors in the
+Intrigue, Holy Men, of the Order of St. _Francis_: But for the Sake of
+some of her Relations, I shall give my _Fair Jilt_ a feign'd Name, that
+of _Miranda_; but my Hero must retain his own, it being too illustrious
+to be conceal'd.
+
+You are to understand, that in all the Catholick Countries, where Holy
+Orders are establish'd, there are abundance of differing Kinds of
+Religious, both of Men and Women. Amongst the Women, there are those we
+call _Nuns_, that make solemn Vows of perpetual Chastity; There are
+others who make but a simple Vow, as for five or ten Years, or more or
+less; and that time expir'd, they may contract anew for longer time, or
+marry, or dispose of themselves as they shall see good; and these are
+ordinarily call'd _Galloping Nuns_: Of these there are several Orders;
+as _Canonesses_, _Begines_, _Quests_, _Swart-Sisters_, and
+_Jesuitesses_, with several others I have forgot. Of those of the
+_Begines_ was our _Fair Votress_.
+
+These Orders are taken up by the best Persons of the Town, young Maids
+of Fortune, who live together, not inclos'd, but in Palaces that will
+hold about fifteen hundred or two thousand of these _Filles Devotes_;
+where they have a regulated Government, under a sort of _Abbess_, or
+_Prioress_, or rather a _Governante_. They are oblig'd to a Method of
+Devotion, and are under a sort of Obedience. They wear a Habit much like
+our Widows of Quality in _England_, only without a _Bando_; and their
+Veil is of a thicker Crape than what we have here, thro' which one
+cannot see the Face; for when they go abroad, they cover themselves all
+over with it; but they put 'em up in the Churches, and lay 'em by in the
+Houses. Every one of these have a Confessor, who is to 'em a sort of
+Steward: For, you must know, they that go into these Places, have the
+Management of their own Fortunes, and what their Parents design 'em.
+Without the Advice of this Confessor, they act nothing, nor admit of a
+Lover that he shall not approve; at least, this Method ought to be
+taken, and is by almost all of 'em; tho' _Miranda_ thought her Wit above
+it, as her Spirit was.
+
+But as these Women are, as I said, of the best Quality, and live with
+the Reputation of being retir'd from the World a little more than
+ordinary, and because there is a sort of Difficulty to approach 'em,
+they are the People the most courted, and liable to the greatest
+Temptations; for as difficult as it seems to be, they receive Visits
+from all the Men of the best Quality, especially Strangers. All the Men
+of Wit and Conversation meet at the Apartments of these fair _Filles
+Devotes_, where all Manner of Gallantries are perform'd, while all the
+Study of these Maids is to accomplish themselves for these noble
+Conversations. They receive Presents, Balls, Serenades, and Billets; All
+the News, Wit, Verses, Songs, Novels, Musick, Gaming, and all fine
+Diversion, is in their Apartments, they themselves being of the best
+Quality and Fortune. So that to manage these Gallantries, there is no
+sort of Female Arts they are not practis'd in, no Intrigue they are
+ignorant of, and no Management of which they are not capable.
+
+Of this happy Number was the fair _Miranda_, whose Parents being dead,
+and a vast Estate divided between her self and a young Sister, (who
+liv'd with an unmarry'd old Uncle, whose Estate afterwards was all
+divided between 'em) she put her self into this uninclos'd religious
+House; but her Beauty, which had all the Charms that ever Nature gave,
+became the Envy of the whole _Sisterhood_. She was tall, and admirably
+shaped; she had a bright Hair, and Hazle-Eyes, all full of Love and
+Sweetness: No Art could make a Face so fair as hers by Nature, which
+every Feature adorn'd with a Grace that Imagination cannot reach: Every
+Look, every Motion charm'd, and her black Dress shew'd the Lustre of her
+Face and Neck. She had an Air, though gay as so much Youth could
+inspire, yet so modest, so nobly reserv'd, without Formality, or
+Stiffness, that one who look'd on her would have imagin'd her Soul the
+Twin-Angel of her Body; and both together made her appear something
+divine. To this she had a great deal of Wit, read much, and retain'd all
+that serv'd her Purpose. She sung delicately, and danc'd well, and
+play'd on the Lute to a Miracle. She spoke several Languages naturally;
+for being Co-heiress to so great a Fortune, she was bred with the nicest
+Care, in all the finest Manners of Education; and was now arriv'd to her
+Eighteenth Year.
+
+'Twere needless to tell you how great a Noise the Fame of this young
+Beauty, with so considerable a Fortune, made in the World: I may say,
+the World, rather than confine her Fame to the scanty Limits of a Town;
+it reach'd to many others: And there was not a Man of any Quality that
+came to _Antwerp_, or pass'd thro' the City, but made it his Business to
+see the lovely _Miranda_, who was universally ador'd: Her Youth and
+Beauty, her Shape, and Majesty of Mein, and Air of Greatness, charm'd
+all her Beholders; and thousands of People were dying by her Eyes, while
+she was vain enough to glory in her Conquests, and make it her Business
+to wound. She lov'd nothing so much as to behold sighing Slaves at her
+Feet, of the greatest Quality; and treated them all with an Affability
+that gave them Hope. Continual Musick, as soon as it was dark, and Songs
+of dying Lovers, were sung under her Windows; and she might well have
+made herself a great Fortune (if she had not been so already) by the
+rich Presents that were hourly made her; and every body daily expected
+when she would make some one happy, by suffering her self to be
+conquer'd by Love and Honour, by the Assiduities and Vows of some one of
+her Adorers. But _Miranda_ accepted their Presents, heard their Vows
+with Pleasure, and willingly admitted all their soft Addresses; but
+would not yield her Heart, or give away that lovely Person to the
+Possession of one, who could please it self with so many. She was
+naturally amorous, but extremely inconstant: She lov'd one for his Wit,
+another for his Face, and a third for his Mein; but above all, she
+admir'd Quality: Quality alone had the Power to attach her entirely; yet
+not to one Man, but that Virtue was still admir'd by her in all:
+Where-ever she found that, she lov'd, or at least acted the Lover with
+such Art, that (deceiving well) she fail'd not to compleat her Conquest;
+and yet she never durst trust her fickle Humour with Marriage. She knew
+the Strength of her own Heart, and that it could not suffer itself to be
+confin'd to one Man, and wisely avoided those Inquietudes, and that
+Uneasiness of Life she was sure to find in that married State, which
+would, against her Nature, oblige her to the Embraces of one, whose
+Humour was, to love all the Young and the Gay. But Love, who had
+hitherto only play'd with her Heart, and given it nought but pleasing
+wanton Wounds, such as afforded only soft Joys, and not Pains, resolv'd,
+either out of Revenge to those Numbers she had abandon'd, and who had
+sigh'd so long in vain, or to try what Power he had upon so fickle a
+Heart, to send an Arrow dipp'd in the most tormenting Flames that rage
+in Hearts most sensible. He struck it home and deep, with all the Malice
+of an angry God.
+
+There was a Church belonging to the _Cordeliers_, whither _Miranda_
+often repair'd to her Devotion; and being there one Day, accompany'd
+with a young Sister of the Order, after the Mass was ended, as 'tis the
+Custom, some one of the Fathers goes about the Church with a Box for
+Contribution, or Charity-Money: It happen'd that Day, that a young
+Father, newly initiated, carried the Box about, which, in his Turn, he
+brought to _Miranda_. She had no sooner cast her Eyes on this young
+Friar, but her Face was overspread with Blushes of Surprize: She beheld
+him stedfastly, and saw in his Face all the Charms of Youth, Wit, and
+Beauty; he wanted no one Grace that could form him for Love, he appear'd
+all that is adorable to the Fair Sex, nor could the mis-shapen Habit
+hide from her the lovely Shape it endeavour'd to cover, nor those
+delicate Hands that approach'd her too near with the Box. Besides the
+Beauty of his Face and Shape, he had an Air altogether great, in spite
+of his profess'd Poverty, it betray'd the Man of Quality; and that
+Thought weigh'd greatly with _Miranda_. But Love, who did not design she
+should now feel any sort of those easy Flames, with which she had
+heretofore burnt, made her soon lay all those Considerations aside,
+which us'd to invite her to love, and now lov'd she knew not why.
+
+She gaz'd upon him, while he bow'd before her, and waited for her
+Charity, till she perceiv'd the lovely Friar to blush, and cast his Eyes
+to the Ground. This awaken'd her Shame, and she put her Hand into her
+Pocket, and was a good while in searching for her Purse, as if she
+thought of nothing less than what she was about; at last she drew it
+out, and gave him a Pistole; but with so much Deliberation and Leisure,
+as easily betray'd the Satisfaction she took in looking on him; while
+the good Man, having receiv'd her Bounty, after a very low Obeysance,
+proceeded to the rest; and _Miranda_ casting after him a Look all
+languishing, as long as he remain'd in the Church, departed with a Sigh
+as soon as she saw him go out, and returned to her Apartment without
+speaking one Word all the Way to the young _Fille Devote_, who attended
+her; so absolutely was her Soul employ'd with this young Holy Man.
+_Cornelia_ (so was this Maid call'd who was with her) perceiving she was
+so silent, who us'd to be all Wit and good Humour, and observing her
+little Disorder at the Sight of the young Father, tho' she was far from
+imagining it to be Love, took an Occasion, when she was come home, to
+speak of him. 'Madam, _said she_, did you not observe that fine young
+_Cordelier_, who brought the Box?' At a Question that nam'd that Object
+of her Thoughts, _Miranda_ blush'd; and she finding she did so,
+redoubled her Confusion, and she had scarce Courage enough to
+say,--_Yes, I did observe him_: And then, forcing herself to smile a
+little, continu'd, 'And I wonder'd to see so jolly a young Friar of an
+Order so severe and mortify'd.--Madam, (_reply'd +Cornelia+_) when you
+know his _Story_, you will not wonder.' _Miranda_, who was impatient to
+know all that concern'd her new Conqueror, obliged her to tell his
+Story; and _Cornelia_ obey'd, and proceeded.
+
+
+  _The Story of Prince +Henrick+._
+
+'You must know, Madam, that this young Holy Man is a Prince of
+_Germany_, of the House of ----, whose Fate it was, to fall most
+passionately in Love with a fair young Lady, who lov'd him with an
+Ardour equal to what he vow'd her. Sure of her Heart, and wanting only
+the Approbation of her Parents, and his own, which her Quality did not
+suffer him to despair of, he boasted of his Happiness to a young Prince,
+his elder Brother, a Youth amorous and fierce, impatient of Joys, and
+sensible of Beauty, taking Fire with all fair Eyes: He was his Father's
+Darling, and Delight of his fond Mother; and, by an Ascendant over both
+their Hearts, rul'd their Wills.
+
+'This young Prince no sooner saw, but lov'd the fair Mistress of his
+Brother; and with an Authority of a Sovereign, rather than the Advice of
+a Friend, warn'd his Brother _Henrick_ (this now young Friar) to
+approach no more this Lady, whom he had seen; and seeing, lov'd.
+
+'In vain the poor surpriz'd Prince pleads his Right of Love, his
+Exchange of Vows, and Assurance of a Heart that could never be but for
+himself. In vain he urges his Nearness of Blood, his Friendship, his
+Passion, or his Life, which so entirely depended on the Possession of
+the charming Maid. All his Pleading serv'd but to blow his Brother's
+Flame; and the more he implores, the more the other burns; and while
+_Henrick_ follows him, on his Knees, with humble Submissions, the other
+flies from him in Rages of transported Love; nor could his Tears, that
+pursu'd his Brother's Steps, move him to Pity: Hot-headed,
+vain-conceited of his Beauty, and greater Quality as elder Brother, he
+doubts not of Success, and resolv'd to sacrifice all to the Violence of
+his new-born Passion.
+
+'In short, he speaks of his Design to his Mother, who promis'd him her
+Assistance; and accordingly proposing it first to the Prince her
+Husband, urging the Languishment of her Son, she soon wrought so on him,
+that a Match being concluded between the Parents of this young Beauty,
+and _Henrick's_ Brother, the Hour was appointed before she knew of the
+Sacrifice she was to be made. And while this was in Agitation, _Henrick_
+was sent on some great Affairs, up into _Germany_, far out of the Way;
+not but his boding Heart, with perpetual Sighs and Throbs, eternally
+foretold him his Fate.
+
+'All the Letters he wrote were intercepted, as well as those she wrote
+to him. She finds herself every Day perplex'd with the Addresses of the
+Prince she hated; he was ever sighing at her Feet. In vain were all her
+reproaches, and all her Coldness, he was on the surer Side; for what he
+found Love would not do, Force of Parents would.
+
+'She complains, in her Heart, of young _Henrick_, from whom she could
+never receive one Letter; and at last could not forbear bursting into
+Tears, in spite of all her Force, and feign'd Courage, when, on a Day,
+the Prince told her, that _Henrick_ was withdrawn to give him Time to
+court her; to whom he said, he confess'd he had made some Vows, but did
+repent of 'em, knowing himself too young to make 'em good: That it was
+for that Reason he brought him first to see her; and for that Reason,
+that after that, he never saw her more, nor so much as took Leave of
+her; when, indeed, his Death lay upon the next Visit, his Brother having
+sworn to murder him; and to that End, put a Guard upon him, till he was
+sent into _Germany_.
+
+'All this he utter'd with so many passionate Asseverations, Vows, and
+seeming Pity for her being so inhumanly abandon'd, that she almost gave
+Credit to all he had said, and had much ado to keep herself within the
+Bounds of Moderation, and silent Grief. Her Heart was breaking, her Eyes
+languish'd, and her Cheeks grew pale, and she had like to have fallen
+dead into the treacherous Arms of him that had reduc'd her to this
+Discovery; but she did what she could to assume her Courage, and to shew
+as little Resentment as possible for a Heart, like hers, oppress'd with
+Love, and now abandon'd by the dear Subject of its Joys and Pains.
+
+'But, Madam, not to tire you with this Adventure, the Day arriv'd
+wherein our still weeping Fair Unfortunate was to be sacrific'd to the
+Capriciousness of Love; and she was carry'd to Court by her Parents,
+without knowing to what End, where she was even compell'd to marry the
+Prince.
+
+'_Henrick_, who all this While knew no more of his Unhappiness, than
+what his Fears suggested, returns, and passes even to the Presence of
+his Father, before he knew any Thing of his Fortune; where he beheld his
+Mistress and his Brother, with his Father, in such a Familiarity, as he
+no longer doubted his Destiny. 'Tis hard to judge, whether the Lady, or
+himself, was most surpriz'd; she was all pale and unmoveable in her
+Chair, and _Henrick_ fix'd like a Statue; at last Grief and Rage took
+Place of Amazement, and he could not forbear crying out, _Ah, Traytor!
+Is it thus you have treated a Friend and Brother? And you, O perjur'd
+Charmer! Is it thus you have rewarded all my Vows?_ He could say no
+more; but reeling against the Door, had fallen in a Swoon upon the
+Floor, had not his Page caught him in his Arms, who was entring with
+him. The good old Prince, the Father, who knew not what all this meant,
+was soon inform'd by the young weeping Princess; who, in relating the
+Story of her Amour with _Henrick_, told her Tale in so moving a Manner,
+as brought Tears to the Old Man's Eyes, and Rage to those of her
+Husband; he immediately grew jealous to the last Degree: He finds
+himself in Possession ('tis true) of the Beauty he ador'd, but the
+Beauty adoring another; a Prince young and charming as the Light, soft,
+witty, and raging with an equal Passion. He finds this dreaded Rival in
+the same House with him, with an Authority equal to his own; and
+fancies, where two Hearts are so entirely agreed, and have so good an
+Understanding, it would not be impossible to find Opportunities to
+satisfy and ease that mutual Flame, that burnt so equally in both; he
+therefore resolved to send him out of the World, and to establish his
+own Repose by a Deed, wicked, cruel, and unnatural, to have him
+assassinated the first Opportunity he could find. This Resolution set
+him a little at Ease, and he strove to dissemble Kindness to _Henrick_,
+with all the Art he was capable of, suffering him to come often to the
+Apartment of the Princess, and to entertain her oftentimes with
+Discourse, when he was not near enough to hear what he spoke; but still
+watching their Eyes, he found those of _Henrick_ full of Tears, ready to
+flow, but restrain'd, looking all dying, and yet reproaching, while
+those of the Princess were ever bent to the Earth, and she as much as
+possible, shunning his Conversation. Yet this did not satisfy the
+jealous Husband; 'twas not her Complaisance that could appease him; he
+found her Heart was panting within, whenever _Henrick_ approach'd her,
+and every Visit more and more confirmed his Death.
+
+'The Father often found the Disorders of the Sons; the Softness and
+Address of the one gave him as much Fear, as the angry Blushings, the
+fierce Looks, and broken Replies of the other, whenever he beheld
+_Henrick_ approach his Wife; so that the Father, fearing some ill
+Consequence of this, besought _Henrick_ to withdraw to some other
+Country, or travel into _Italy_, he being now of an Age that required a
+View of the World. He told his Father, That he would obey his Commands,
+tho' he was certain, that Moment he was to be separated from the Sight
+of the fair Princess, his Sister, would be the last of his Life; and, in
+fine, made so pitiful a Story of his suffering Love, as almost moved the
+old Prince to compassionate him so far, as to permit him to stay; but he
+saw inevitable Danger in that, and therefore bid him prepare for his
+Journey.
+
+'That which pass'd between the Father and _Henrick_, being a Secret,
+none talked of his departing from Court; so that the Design the Brother
+had went on; and making a Hunting-Match one Day, where most young People
+of Quality were, he order'd some whom he had hired to follow his
+Brother, so as if he chanced to go out of the Way, to dispatch him; and
+accordingly, Fortune gave 'em an Opportunity; for he lagg'd behind the
+Company, and turn'd aside into a pleasant Thicket of Hazles, where
+alighting, he walk'd on Foot in the most pleasant Part of it, full of
+Thought, how to divide his Soul between Love and Obedience. He was
+sensible that he ought not to stay; that he was but an Affliction to the
+young Princess, whose Honour could never permit her to ease any Part of
+his Flame; nor was he so vicious to entertain a Thought that should
+stain her Virtue. He beheld her now as his Brother's Wife, and that
+secured his Flame from all loose Desires, if her native Modesty had not
+been sufficient of itself to have done it, as well as that profound
+Respect he paid her; and he consider'd, in obeying his Father, he left
+her at Ease, and his Brother freed of a thousand Fears; he went to seek
+a Cure, which if he could not find, at last he could but die; and so he
+must, even at her Feet: However, that it was more noble to seek a Remedy
+for his Disease, than expect a certain Death by staying. After a
+thousand Reflections on his hard Fate, and bemoaning himself, and
+blaming his cruel Stars, that had doom'd him to die so young, after an
+Infinity of Sighs and Tears, Resolvings and Unresolvings, he, on the
+sudden, was interrupted by the trampling of some Horses he heard, and
+their rushing through the Boughs, and saw four Men make towards him: He
+had not time to mount, being walk'd some Paces from his Horse. One of
+the Men advanced, and cry'd, _Prince, you must die_--_I do believe
+thee_, (reply'd _Henrick_) _but not by a Hand so base as thine_: And at
+the same Time drawing his Sword, run him into the Groin. When the Fellow
+found himself so wounded, he wheel'd off and cry'd, _Thou art a Prophet,
+and hast rewarded my Treachery with Death._ The rest came up, and one
+shot at the Prince, and shot him in the Shoulder; the other two hastily
+laying hold (but too late) on the Hand of the Murderer, cry'd, _Hold,
+Traytor; we relent, and he shall not die._ He reply'd, _'Tis too late,
+he is shot; and see, he lies dead. Let us provide for ourselves, and
+tell the Prince, we have done the Work; for you are as guilty as I am._
+At that they all fled, and left the Prince lying under a Tree, weltering
+in his Blood.
+
+'About the Evening, the Forester going his Walks, saw the Horse, richly
+caparison'd, without a Rider, at the Entrance of the Wood; and going
+farther, to see if he could find its Owner, found there the Prince
+almost dead; he immediately mounts him on the Horse, and himself behind,
+bore him up, and carry'd him to the Lodge; where he had only one old
+Man, his Father, well skilled in Surgery, and a Boy. They put him to
+Bed; and the old Forester, with what Art he had, dress'd his Wounds, and
+in the Morning sent for an abler Surgeon, to whom the Prince enjoin'd
+Secrecy, because he knew him. The Man was faithful, and the Prince in
+Time was recover'd of his Wound; and as soon as he was well, he came to
+_Flanders_, in the Habit of a Pilgrim, and after some Time took the
+Order of St. _Francis_, none knowing what became of him, till he was
+profess'd; and then he wrote his own Story to the Prince his Father, to
+his Mistress, and his ungrateful Brother. The young Princess did not
+long survive his Loss, she languished from the Moment of his Departure;
+and he had this to confirm his devout Life, to know she dy'd for him.
+
+'My Brother, Madam, was an Officer under the Prince his Father, and knew
+his Story perfectly well; from whose Mouth I had it.'
+
+_What!_ (reply'd _Miranda_ then) _is Father +Henrick+ a Man of Quality_?
+_Yes, Madam_, (said _Cornelia_) _and has changed his Name to
++Francisco+._ But _Miranda_, fearing to betray the Sentiments of her
+Heart, by asking any more Questions about him, turned the Discourse; and
+some Persons of Quality came in to visit her (for her Apartment was
+about six o'Clock, like the Presence-Chamber of a Queen, always filled
+with the greatest People): There meet all the _Beaux Esprits_, and all
+the Beauties. But it was visible _Miranda_ was not so gay as she used to
+be; but pensive, and answering _mal a propos_ to all that was said to
+her. She was a thousand times going to speak, against her Will,
+something of the charming Friar, who was never from her Thoughts; and
+she imagined, if he could inspire Love in a coarse, grey, ill-made
+Habit, a shorn Crown, a Hair-cord about his Waist, bare-legg'd, in
+Sandals instead of Shoes; what must he do, when looking back on Time,
+she beholds him in a Prospect of Glory, with all that Youth, and
+illustrious Beauty, set off by the Advantage of Dress and Equipage? She
+frames an Idea of him all gay and splendid, and looks on his present
+Habit as some Disguise proper for the Stealths of Love; some feigned
+put-on Shape, with the more Security to approach a Mistress, and make
+himself happy; and that the Robe laid by, she has the Lover in his
+proper Beauty, the same he would have been, if any other Habit (though
+ever so rich) were put off: In the Bed, the silent gloomy Night, and the
+soft Embraces of her Arms, he loses all the Friar, and assumes all the
+Prince; and that aweful Reverence, due alone to his Holy Habit, he
+exchanges for a thousand Dalliances, for which his Youth was made; for
+Love, for tender Embraces, and all the Happiness of Life. Some Moments
+she fancies him a Lover, and that the fair Object that takes up all his
+Heart, has left no Room for her there; but that was a Thought that did
+not long perplex her, and which, almost as soon as born, she turned to
+her Advantage. She beholds him a Lover, and therefore finds he has a
+Heart sensible and tender; he had Youth to be fir'd, as well as to
+inspire; he was far from the loved Object, and totally without Hope; and
+she reasonably consider'd, that Flame would of itself soon die, that had
+only Despair to feed on. She beheld her own Charms; and Experience, as
+well as her Glass, told her, they never failed of Conquest, especially
+where they designed it: And she believed _Henrick_ would be glad, at
+least, to quench that Flame in himself, by an Amour with her, which was
+kindled by the young Princess of ---- his Sister.
+
+These, and a thousand other Self-flatteries, all vain and indiscreet,
+took up her waking Nights, and now more retired Days; while Love, to
+make her truly wretched, suffered her to sooth herself with fond
+Imaginations; not so much as permitting her Reason to plead one Moment
+to save her from undoing: She would not suffer it to tell her, he had
+taken Holy Orders, made sacred and solemn Vows of everlasting Chastity,
+that it was impossible he could marry her, or lay before her any
+Argument that might prevent her Ruin; but Love, mad malicious Love, was
+always called to Counsel, and, like easy Monarchs, she had no Ears, but
+for Flatterers.
+
+Well then, she is resolv'd to love, without considering to what End, and
+what must be the Consequence of such an Amour. She now miss'd no Day of
+being at that little Church, where she had the Happiness, or rather the
+Misfortune (so Love ordained) to see this Ravisher of her Heart and
+Soul; and every Day she took new Fire from his lovely Eyes. Unawares,
+unknown, and unwillingly, he gave her Wounds, and the Difficulty of her
+Cure made her rage the more: She burnt, she languished, and died for the
+young Innocent, who knew not he was the Author of so much Mischief.
+
+Now she resolves a thousand Ways in her tortur'd Mind, to let him know
+her Anguish, and at last pitch'd upon that of writing to him soft
+Billets, which she had learn'd the Art of doing; or if she had not, she
+had now Fire enough to inspire her with all that could charm and move.
+These she deliver'd to a young Wench, who waited on her, and whom she
+had entirely subdu'd to her Interest, to give to a certain Lay-Brother
+of the Order, who was a very simple harmless Wretch, and who served in
+the Kitchen, in the Nature of a Cook, in the Monastery of _Cordeliers_.
+She gave him Gold to secure his Faith and Service; and not knowing from
+whence they came (with so good Credentials) he undertook to deliver the
+Letters to Father _Francisco_; which Letters were all afterwards, as you
+shall hear, produced in open Court. These Letters failed not to come
+every Day; and the Sense of the first was, to tell him, that a very
+beautiful young Lady, of a great Fortune, was in love with him, without
+naming her; but it came as from a third Person, to let him know the
+Secret, that she desir'd he would let her know whether she might hope
+any Return from him; assuring him, he needed but only see the fair
+Languisher, to confess himself her Slave.
+
+This Letter being deliver'd him, he read by himself, and was surpriz'd
+to receive Words of this Nature, being so great a Stranger in that
+Place; and could not imagine or would not give himself the Trouble of
+guessing who this should be, because he never designed to make Returns.
+
+The next Day, _Miranda_, finding no Advantage from her Messenger of
+Love, in the Evening sends another (impatient of Delay) confessing that
+she who suffer'd the Shame of writing and imploring, was the Person
+herself who ador'd him. 'Twas there her raging Love made her say all
+Things that discover'd the Nature of its Flame, and propose to flee with
+him to any Part of the World, if he would quit the Convent; that she had
+a Fortune considerable enough to make him happy; and that his Youth and
+Quality were not given him to so unprofitable an End as to lose
+themselves in a Convent, where Poverty and Ease was all the Business. In
+fine, she leaves nothing unurg'd that might debauch and invite him; not
+forgetting to send him her own Character of Beauty, and left him to
+judge of her Wit and Spirit by her Writing, and her Love by the
+Extremity of Passion she profess'd. To all which the lovely Friar made
+no Return, as believing a gentle Capitulation or Exhortation to her
+would but inflame her the more, and give new Occasions for her
+continuing to write. All her Reasonings, false and vicious, he despis'd,
+pity'd the Error of her Love, and was Proof against all she could plead.
+Yet notwithstanding his Silence, which left her in Doubt, and more
+tormented her, she ceas'd not to pursue him with her Letters, varying
+her Style; sometimes all wanton, loose and raving; sometimes feigning a
+Virgin-Modesty all over, accusing her self, blaming her Conduct, and
+sighing her Destiny, as one compell'd to the shameful Discovery by the
+Austerity of his Vow and Habit, asking his Pity and Forgiveness; urging
+him in Charity to use his Fatherly Care to persuade and reason with her
+wild Desires, and by his Counsel drive the God from her Heart, whose
+Tyranny was worse than that of a Fiend; and he did not know what his
+pious Advice might do. But still she writes in vain, in vain she varies
+her Style, by a Cunning, peculiar to a Maid possess'd with such a sort
+of Passion.
+
+This cold Neglect was still Oil to the burning Lamp, and she tries yet
+more Arts, which for want of right Thinking were as fruitless. She has
+Recourse to Presents; her Letters came loaded with Rings of great Price,
+and Jewels, which Fops of Quality had given her. Many of this Sort he
+receiv'd, before he knew where to return 'em, or how; and on this
+Occasion alone he sent her a Letter, and restor'd her Trifles, as he
+call'd them: But his Habit having not made him forget his Quality and
+Education, he wrote to her with all the profound Respect imaginable;
+believing by her Presents, and the Liberality with which she parted with
+'em, that she was of Quality. But the whole Letter, as he told me
+afterwards, was to persuade her from the Honour she did him, by loving
+him; urging a thousand Reasons, solid and pious, and assuring her, he
+had wholly devoted the rest of his Days to Heaven, and had no Need of
+those gay Trifles she had sent him, which were only fit to adorn Ladies
+so fair as herself, and who had Business with this glittering World,
+which he disdain'd, and had for ever abandon'd. He sent her a thousand
+Blessings, and told her, she should be ever in his Prayers, tho' not in
+his Heart, as she desir'd: And abundance of Goodness more he express'd,
+and Counsel he gave her, which had the same Effect with his Silence; it
+made her love but the more, and the more impatient she grew. She now had
+a new Occasion to write, she now is charm'd with his Wit; this was the
+new Subject. She rallies his Resolution, and endeavours to re-call him
+to the World, by all the Arguments that human Invention is capable of.
+
+But when she had above four Months languish'd thus in vain, not missing
+one Day, wherein she went not to see him, without discovering herself to
+him; she resolv'd, as her last Effort, to shew her Person, and see what
+that, assisted by her Tears, and soft Words from her Mouth, could do, to
+prevail upon him.
+
+It happen'd to be on the Eve of that Day when she was to receive the
+Sacrament, that she, covering herself with her Veil, came to _Vespers_,
+purposing to make Choice of the conquering Friar for her Confessor.
+
+She approach'd him; and as she did so, she trembled with Love. At last
+she cry'd, _Father, my Confessor is gone for some Time from the Town,
+and I am obliged To-morrow to receive, and beg you will be pleas'd to
+take my Confession._
+
+He could not refuse her; and let her into the _Sacristy_, where there is
+a Confession-Chair, in which he seated himself; and on one Side of him
+she kneel'd down, over-against a little Altar, where the Priests Robes
+lye, on which were plac'd some lighted Wax-Candles, that made the little
+Place very light and splendid, which shone full upon _Miranda_.
+
+After the little Preparation usual in Confession, she turn'd up her
+Veil, and discover'd to his View the most wondrous Object of Beauty he
+had ever seen, dress'd in all the Glory of a young Bride; her Hair and
+Stomacher full of Diamonds, that gave a Lustre all dazling to her
+brighter Face and Eyes. He was surpriz'd at her amazing Beauty, and
+question'd whether he saw a Woman, or an Angel at his Feet. Her Hands,
+which were elevated, as if in Prayer, seem'd to be form'd of polish'd
+Alabaster; and he confess'd, he had never seen any Thing in Nature so
+perfect and so admirable.
+
+He had some Pain to compose himself to hear her Confession, and was
+oblig'd to turn away his Eyes, that his Mind might not be perplex'd with
+an Object so diverting; when _Miranda_, opening the finest Mouth in the
+World, and discovering new Charms, began her Confession.
+
+'Holy Father (_said she_) amongst the Number of my vile Offences, that
+which afflicts me to the greatest Degree, is, that I am in love: Not
+(_continued she_) that I believe simple and virtuous Love a Sin, when
+'tis plac'd on an Object proper and suitable; but, my dear Father,
+(_said she, and wept_) I love with a Violence which cannot be contain'd
+within the Bounds of Reason, Moderation, or Virtue. I love a Man whom I
+cannot possess without a Crime, and a Man who cannot make me happy
+without being perjur'd. Is he marry'd? (_reply'd the Father._) No;
+(_answer'd +Miranda+._) Are you so? (_continued he._) Neither, (_said
+she._) Is he too near ally'd to you? (_said +Francisco+:_) a Brother, or
+Relation? Neither of these, (_said she._) He is unenjoy'd, unpromis'd;
+and so am I: Nothing opposes our Happiness, or makes my Love a Vice, but
+you--'Tis you deny me Life: 'Tis you that forbid my Flame: 'Tis you will
+have me die, and seek my Remedy in my Grave, when I complain of
+Tortures, Wounds, and Flames. O cruel Charmer! 'tis for you I languish;
+and here, at your Feet, implore that Pity, which all my Addresses have
+fail'd of procuring me.'--
+
+With that, perceiving he was about to rise from his Seat, she held him
+by his Habit, and vow'd she would in that Posture follow him, where-ever
+he flew from her. She elevated her Voice so loud, he was afraid she
+might be heard, and therefore suffer'd her to force him into his Chair
+again; where being seated, he began, in the most passionate Terms
+imaginable, to dissuade her; but finding she the more persisted in
+Eagerness of Passion, he us'd all the tender Assurance that he could
+force from himself, that he would have for her all the Respect, Esteem
+and Friendship that he was capable of paying; that he had a real
+Compassion for her: and at last she prevail'd so far with him, by her
+Sighs and Tears, as to own he had a Tenderness for her, and that he
+could not behold so many Charms, without being sensibly touch'd by 'em,
+and finding all those Effects, that a Maid so fair and young causes in
+the Souls of Men of Youth and Sense: But that, as he was assured, he
+could never be so happy to marry her, and as certain he could not grant
+any Thing but honourable Passion, he humbly besought her not to expect
+more from him than such. And then began to tell her how short Life was,
+and transitory its Joys; how soon she would grow weary of Vice, and how
+often change to find real Repose in it, but never arrive to it. He made
+an End, by new Assurance of his eternal Friendship, but utterly forbad
+her to hope.
+
+Behold her now deny'd, refus'd and defeated, with all her pleading
+Youth, Beauty, Tears, and Knees, imploring, as she lay, holding fast his
+_Scapular_, and embracing his Feet. What shall she do? She swells with
+Pride, Love, Indignation and Desire; her burning Heart is bursting with
+Despair, her Eyes grow fierce, and from Grief she rises to a Storm; and
+in her Agony of Passion, with Looks all disdainful, haughty, and full of
+Rage, she began to revile him, as the poorest of Animals; tells him his
+Soul was dwindled to the Meanness of his Habit, and his Vows of Poverty
+were suited to his degenerate Mind. 'And (_said she_) since all my
+nobler Ways have fail'd me; and that, for a little Hypocritical
+Devotion, you resolve to lose the greatest Blessings of Life, and to
+sacrifice me to your Religious Pride and Vanity, I will either force you
+to abandon that dull Dissimulation, or you shall die, to prove your
+Sanctity real. Therefore answer me immediately, answer my Flame, my
+raging Fire, which your Eyes have kindled; or here, in this very Moment,
+I will ruin thee; and make no Scruple of revenging the Pains I suffer,
+by that which shall take away your Life and Honour.'
+
+The trembling young Man, who, all this While, with extreme Anguish of
+Mind, and Fear of the dire Result, had listen'd to her Ravings, full of
+Dread, demanded what she would have him do? When she reply'd--'Do that
+which thy Youth and Beauty were ordain'd to do:--this Place is private,
+a sacred Silence reigns here, and no one dares to pry into the Secrets
+of this Holy Place: We are as secure from Fears and Interruption, as in
+Desarts uninhabited, or Caves forsaken by wild Beasts. The Tapers too
+shall veil their Lights, and only that glimmering Lamp shall be Witness
+of our dear Stealths of Love--Come to my Arms, my trembling, longing
+Arms; and curse the Folly of thy Bigotry, that has made thee so long
+lose a Blessing, for which so many Princes sigh in vain.'
+
+At these Words she rose from his Feet, and snatching him in her Arms, he
+could not defend himself from receiving a thousand Kisses from the
+lovely Mouth of the charming Wanton; after which, she ran herself, and
+in an Instant put out the Candles. But he cry'd to her, 'In vain, O too
+indiscreet Fair One, in vain you put out the Light; for Heaven still has
+Eyes, and will look down upon my broken Vows. I own your Power, I own I
+have all the Sense in the World of your charming Touches; I am frail
+Flesh and Blood, but--yet--yet I can resist; and I prefer my Vows to all
+your powerful Temptations.--I will be deaf and blind, and guard my Heart
+with Walls of Ice, and make you know, that when the Flames of true
+Devotion are kindled in a Heart, it puts out all other Fires; which are
+as ineffectual, as Candles lighted in the Face of the Sun.--Go, vain
+Wanton, and repent, and mortify that Blood which has so shamefully
+betray'd thee, and which will one Day ruin both thy Soul and Body.'--
+
+At these Words _Miranda_, more enrag'd, the nearer she imagin'd her self
+to Happiness, made no Reply; but throwing her self, in that Instant,
+into the Confessing-Chair, and violently pulling the young Friar into
+her Lap, she elevated her Voice to such a Degree, in crying out, _Help,
+Help! A Rape! Help, Help!_ that she was heard all over the Church, which
+was full of People at the Evening's Devotion; who flock'd about the Door
+of the _Sacristy_, which was shut with a Spring-Lock on the Inside, but
+they durst not open the Door.
+
+'Tis easily to be imagin'd, in what Condition our young Friar was, at
+this last devilish Stratagem of his wicked Mistress. He strove to break
+from those Arms that held him so fast; and his Bustling to get away, and
+her's to retain him, disorder'd her Hair and Habit to such a Degree, as
+gave the more Credit to her false Accusation.
+
+The Fathers had a Door on the other Side, by which they usually enter'd,
+to dress in this little Room; and at the Report that was in an Instant
+made 'em, they hasted thither, and found _Miranda_ and the good Father
+very indecently struggling; which they mis-interpreted, as _Miranda_
+desir'd; who, all in Tears, immediately threw her self at the Feet of
+the Provincial, who was one of those that enter'd; and cry'd, 'O holy
+Father! revenge an innocent Maid, undone and lost to Fame and Honour, by
+that vile Monster, born of Goats, nurs'd by Tygers, and bred up on
+savage Mountains, where Humanity and Religion are Strangers. For, O holy
+Father, could it have enter'd into the Heart of Man, to have done so
+barbarous and horrid a Deed, as to attempt the Virgin-Honour of an
+unspotted Maid, and one of my Degree, even in the Moment of my
+Confession, in that holy Time, when I was prostrate before him and
+Heaven, confessing those Sins that press'd my tender Conscience; even
+then to load my Soul with the blackest of Infamies, to add to my Number
+a Weight that must sink me to Hell? Alas! under the Security of his
+innocent Looks, his holy Habit, and his aweful Function, I was led into
+this Room to make my Confession; where, he locking the Door, I had no
+sooner began, but he gazing on me, took fire at my fatal Beauty; and
+starting up, put out the Candles and caught me in his Arms; and raising
+me from the Pavement, set me in the Confession-Chair; and then--Oh,
+spare me the rest.'
+
+With that a Shower of Tears burst from her fair dissembling Eyes, and
+Sobs so naturally acted, and so well manag'd, as left no doubt upon the
+good Men, but all she had spoken was Truth.
+
+'--At first, (_proceeded she_) I was unwilling to bring so great a
+Scandal on his Order, to cry out; but struggled as long as I had Breath;
+pleaded the Heinousness of the Crime, urging my Quality, and the Danger
+of the Attempt. But he, deaf as the Winds, and ruffling as a Storm,
+pursu'd his wild Design with so much Force and Insolence, as I at last,
+unable to resist, was wholly vanquish'd, robb'd of my native Purity.
+With what Life and Breath I had, I call'd for Assistance, both from Men
+and Heaven; but oh, alas! your Succours came too late:--You find me here
+a wretched, undone, and ravish'd Maid. Revenge me, Fathers; revenge me
+on the perfidious Hypocrite, or else give me a Death that may secure
+your Cruelty and Injustice from ever being proclaim'd over the World; or
+my Tongue will be eternally reproaching you, and cursing the wicked
+Author of my Infamy.'
+
+She ended as she began, with a thousand Sighs and Tears; and received
+from the Provincial all Assurances of Revenge.
+
+The innocent betray'd Victim, all the while she was speaking, heard her
+with an Astonishment that may easily be imagined; yet shew'd no
+extravagant Signs of it, as those would do, who feign it, to be thought
+innocent; but being really so, he bore with an humble, modest, and
+blushing Countenance, all her Accusations; which silent Shame they
+mistook for evident Signs of his Guilt.
+
+When the Provincial demanded, with an unwonted Severity in his Eyes and
+Voice, what he could answer for himself? calling him Profaner of his
+Sacred Vows, and Infamy to the Holy Order; the injur'd, but innocently
+accus'd, only reply'd: 'May Heaven forgive that bad Woman, and bring her
+to Repentance! For his Part, he was not so much in Love with Life, as to
+use many arguments to justify his Innocence; unless it were to free that
+Order from a Scandal, of which he had the Honour to be profess'd. But as
+for himself, Life or Death were Things indifferent to him, who heartily
+despis'd the World.'
+
+He said no more, and suffer'd himself to be led before the Magistrate;
+who committed him to Prison, upon the Accusation of this implacable
+Beauty; who, with so much feign'd Sorrow, prosecuted the Matter, even to
+his Tryal and Condemnation; where he refus'd to make any great Defence
+for himself. But being daily visited by all the Religious, both of his
+own and other Orders, they oblig'd him (some of 'em knowing the
+Austerity of his Life, others his Cause of Griefs that first brought him
+into Orders, and others pretending a nearer Knowledge, even of his Soul
+it self) to stand upon his Justification, and discover what he knew of
+that wicked Woman; whose Life had not been so exemplary for Virtue, not
+to have given the World a thousand Suspicions of her Lewdness and
+Prostitutions.
+
+The daily Importunities of these Fathers made him produce her Letters:
+But as he had all the Gown-men on his Side, she had all the Hats and
+Feathers on her's; all the Men of Quality taking her Part, and all the
+Church-men his. They heard his daily Protestations and Vows, but not a
+Word of what passed at Confession was yet discover'd: He held that as a
+Secret sacred on his Part; and what was said in Nature of a Confession,
+was not to be revealed, though his Life depended on the Discovery. But
+as to the Letters, they were forc'd from him, and expos'd; however,
+Matters were carry'd with so high a Hand against him, that they serv'd
+for no Proof at all of his Innocence, and he was at last condemn'd to be
+burn'd at the Market-Place.
+
+After his Sentence was pass'd, the whole Body of Priests made their
+Addresses to the Marquis _Castel Roderigo_, the then Governor of
+_Flanders_, for a Reprieve; which, after much ado, was granted him for
+some Weeks, but with an absolute Denial of Pardon: So prevailing were
+the young Cavaliers of his Court, who were all Adorers of this Fair
+Jilt.
+
+About this time, while the poor innocent young _Henrick_ was thus
+languishing in Prison, in a dark and dismal Dungeon, and _Miranda_,
+cured of her Love, was triumphing in her Revenge, expecting and daily
+giving new Conquests; and who, by this time, had re-assum'd all her
+wonted Gaiety; there was a great Noise about the Town, that a Prince of
+mighty Name, and fam'd for all the Excellencies of his Sex, was arriv'd;
+a Prince young, and gloriously attended, call'd Prince _Tarquin_.
+
+We had often heard of this great Man, and that he was making his Travels
+in _France_ and _Germany_: And we had also heard, that some Years
+before, he being about Eighteen Years of Age, in the Time when our King
+_Charles_, of blessed Memory, was in _Brussels_, in the last Year of his
+Banishment, that all on a sudden, this young Man rose up upon 'em like
+the Sun, all glorious and dazling, demanding Place of all the Princes in
+that Court. And when his Pretence was demanded, he own'd himself Prince
+_Tarquin_, of the Race of the last Kings of _Rome_, made good his Title,
+and took his Place accordingly. After that he travell'd for about six
+Years up and down the World, and then arriv'd at _Antwerp_, about the
+Time of my being sent thither by King _Charles_.
+
+Perhaps there could be nothing seen so magnificent as this Prince: He
+was, as I said, extremely handsome, from Head to Foot exactly form'd,
+and he wanted nothing that might adorn that native Beauty to the best
+Advantage. His Parts were suitable to the rest: He had an Accomplishment
+fit for a Prince, an Air haughty, but a Carriage affable, easy in
+Conversation, and very entertaining, liberal and good-natur'd, brave and
+inoffensive. I have seen him pass the Streets with twelve Footmen, and
+four Pages; the Pages all in green Velvet Coats lac'd with Gold, and
+white Velvet Tunicks; the Men in Cloth, richly lac'd with Gold; his
+Coaches, and all other Officers, suitable to a great Man.
+
+He was all the Discourse of the Town; some laughing at his Title, others
+reverencing it: Some cry'd, that he was an Imposter; others, that he had
+made his Title as plain, as if _Tarquin_ had reign'd but a Year ago.
+Some made Friendships with him, others would have nothing to say to him:
+But all wonder'd where his Revenue was, that supported this Grandeur;
+and believ'd, tho' he could make his Descent from the _Roman_ Kings very
+well out, that he could not lay so good a Claim to the _Roman_ Land.
+Thus every body meddled with what they had nothing to do; and, as in
+other Places, thought themselves on the surer Side, if, in these
+doubtful Cases, they imagin'd the worst.
+
+But the Men might be of what Opinion they pleas'd concerning him; the
+Ladies were all agreed that he was a Prince, and a young handsome
+Prince, and a Prince not to be resisted: He had all their Wishes, all
+their Eyes, and all their Hearts. They now dress'd only for him; and
+what Church he grac'd, was sure, that Day, to have the Beauties, and all
+that thought themselves so.
+
+You may believe, our amorous _Miranda_ was not the least Conquest he
+made. She no sooner heard of him, which was as soon as he arriv'd, but
+she fell in love with his very Name. _Jesu!_--A young King of _Rome!_
+Oh, it was so novel, that she doated on the Title; and had not car'd
+whether the rest had been Man or Monkey almost: She was resolved to be
+the _Lucretia_ that this young _Tarquin_ should ravish.
+
+To this End, she was no sooner up the next Day, but she sent him a
+_Billet Doux_, assuring him how much she admired his Fame; and that
+being a Stranger in the Town, she begged the Honour of introducing him
+to all the _Belle_ Conversations, _&c._ which he took for the Invitation
+of some Coquet, who had Interest in fair Ladies; and civilly return'd
+her an Answer, that he would wait on her. She had him that Day watched
+to Church; and impatient to see what she heard so many People flock to
+see, she went also to the same Church; those sanctified Abodes being too
+often profaned by such Devotees, whose Business is to ogle and ensnare.
+
+But what a Noise and Humming was heard all over the Church, when
+_Tarquin_ enter'd! His Grace, his Mein, his Fashion, his Beauty, his
+Dress, and his Equipage surprized all that were present: And by the good
+Management and Care of _Miranda_, she got to kneel at the Side of the
+Altar, just over against the Prince, so that, if he would, he could not
+avoid looking full upon her. She had turned up her Veil, and all her
+Face and Shape appear'd such, and so inchanting, as I have described;
+and her Beauty heighten'd with Blushes, and her Eyes full of Spirit and
+Fire, with Joy, to find the young _Roman_ Monarch so charming, she
+appear'd like something more than mortal, and compelled his Eyes to a
+fixed gazing on her Face: She never glanc'd that Way, but she met them;
+and then would feign so modest a Shame, and cast her Eyes downwards with
+such inviting Art, that he was wholly ravished and charmed, and she
+over-joy'd to find he was so.
+
+The Ceremony being ended, he sent a Page to follow that Lady Home,
+himself pursuing her to the Door of the Church, where he took some holy
+Water, and threw upon her, and made her a profound Reverence. She forc'd
+an innocent Look, and a modest Gratitude in her Face, and bow'd, and
+passed forward, half assur'd of her Conquest; leaving her, to go home to
+his Lodging, and impatiently wait the Return of his Page. And all the
+Ladies who saw this first Beginning between the Prince and _Miranda_,
+began to curse and envy her Charms, who had deprived them of half their
+Hopes.
+
+After this, I need not tell you, he made _Miranda_ a Visit; and from
+that Day never left her Apartment, but when he went home at Nights, or
+unless he had Business; so entirely was he conquer'd by this Fair One.
+But the Bishop, and several Men of Quality, in Orders, that profess'd
+Friendship to him, advised him from her Company; and spoke several
+Things to him, that might (if Love had not made him blind) have
+reclaimed him from the Pursuit of his Ruin. But whatever they trusted
+him with, she had the Art to wind herself about his Heart, and make him
+unravel all his Secrets; and then knew as well, by feign'd Sighs and
+Tears, to make him disbelieve all; so that he had no Faith but for her;
+and was wholly inchanted and bewitch'd by her. At last, in spite of all
+that would have opposed it, he marry'd this famous Woman, possess'd by
+so many great Men and Strangers before, while all the World was pitying
+his Shame and Misfortunes.
+
+Being marry'd, they took a great House; and as she was indeed a great
+Fortune, and now a great Princess, there was nothing wanting that was
+agreeable to their Quality; all was splendid and magnificent. But all
+this would not acquire them the World's Esteem; they had an Abhorrence
+for her former Life, and despised her; and for his espousing a Woman so
+infamous, they despised him. So that though they admir'd, and gazed upon
+their Equipage, and glorious Dress, they foresaw the Ruin that attended
+it, and paid her Quality little Respect.
+
+She was no sooner married, but her Uncle died; and dividing his Fortune
+between _Miranda_ and her Sister, leaves the young Heiress, and all her
+Fortune, entirely in the Hands of the Princess.
+
+We will call this Sister _Alcidiana_; she was about fourteen Years of
+Age, and now had chosen her Brother, the Prince, for her Guardian. If
+_Alcidiana_ were not altogether so great a Beauty as her Sister, she had
+Charms sufficient to procure her a great many Lovers, though her Fortune
+had not been so considerable as it was; but with that Addition, you may
+believe, she wanted no Courtships from those of the best Quality; tho'
+every body deplor'd her being under the Tutorage of a Lady so expert in
+all the Vices of her Sex, and so cunning a Manager of Sin, as was the
+Princess; who, on her Part, failed not, by all the Caresses, and
+obliging Endearments, to engage the Mind of this young Maid, and to
+subdue her wholly to her Government. All her Senses were eternally
+regaled with the most bewitching Pleasures they were capable of: She saw
+nothing but Glory and Magnificence, heard nothing but Musick of the
+sweetest Sounds; the richest Perfumes employ'd her Smelling; and all she
+eat and touch'd was delicate and inviting; and being too young to
+consider how this State and Grandeur was to be continu'd, little
+imagined her vast Fortune was every Day diminishing, towards its
+needless Support.
+
+When the Princess went to Church, she had her Gentleman bare before her,
+carrying a great Velvet Cushion, with great Golden Tassels, for her to
+kneel on, and her Train borne up a most prodigious Length, led by a
+Gentleman Usher, bare; follow'd by innumerable Footmen, Pages, and
+Women. And in this State she would walk in the Streets, as in those
+Countries it is the Fashion for the great Ladies to do, who are well;
+and in her Train two or three Coaches, and perhaps a rich Velvet Chair
+embroider'd, would follow in State.
+
+It was thus for some time they liv'd, and the Princess was daily press'd
+by young sighing Lovers, for her Consent to marry _Alcidiana_; but she
+had still one Art or other to put them off, and so continually broke all
+the great Matches that were proposed to her, notwithstanding their
+Kindred and other Friends had industriously endeavour'd to make several
+great Matches for her; but the Princess was still positive in her
+Denial, and one Way or other broke all. At last it happened, there was
+one proposed, yet more advantageous, a young Count, with whom the young
+Maid grew passionately in Love, and besought her Sister to consent that
+she might have him, and got the Prince to speak in her Behalf; but he
+had no sooner heard the secret Reasons _Miranda_ gave him, but (entirely
+her Slave) he chang'd his Mind, and suited it to hers, and she, as
+before, broke off that Amour: Which so extremely incensed _Alcidiana_,
+that she, taking an Opportunity, got from her Guard, and ran away,
+putting her self into the Hands of a wealthy Merchant, her Kinsman, and
+one who bore the greatest Authority in the City; him she chuses for her
+Guardian, resolving to be no longer a Slave to the Tyranny of her
+Sister. And so well she ordered Matters, that she writ this young
+Cavalier, her last Lover, and retrieved him; who came back to _Antwerp_
+again, to renew his Courtship.
+
+Both Parties being agreed, it was no hard Matter to persuade all but the
+Princess. But though she opposed it, it was resolved on, and the Day
+appointed for Marriage, and the Portion demanded; demanded only, but
+never to be paid, the best Part of it being spent. However, she put them
+off from Day to Day, by a thousand frivolous Delays; and when she saw
+they would have Recourse to Force, and all that her Magnificence would
+be at an End, if the Law should prevail against her; and that without
+this Sister's Fortune, she could not long support her Grandeur; she
+bethought herself of a Means to make it all her own, by getting her
+Sister made away; but she being out of her Tuition, she was not able to
+accomplish so great a Deed of Darkness. But since it was resolved it
+must be done, she contrives a thousand Stratagems; and at last pitches
+upon an effectual one.
+
+She had a Page call'd _Van Brune_, a Youth of great Address and Wit, and
+one she had long managed for her Purpose. This Youth was about seventeen
+Years of Age, and extremely beautiful; and in the Time when _Alcidiana_
+lived with the Princess, she was a little in Love with this handsome
+Boy; but it was checked in its Infancy, and never grew up to a Flame:
+Nevertheless, _Alcidiana_ retained still a sort of Tenderness for him,
+while he burn'd in good Earnest with Love for the Princess.
+
+The Princess one Day ordering this Page to wait on her in her Closet,
+she shut the Door; and after a thousand Questions of what he would
+undertake to serve her, the amorous Boy finding himself alone, and
+caress'd by the fair Person he ador'd, with joyful Blushes that
+beautify'd his Face, told her, 'There was nothing upon Earth, he would
+not do, to obey her least Commands.' She grew more familiar with him, to
+oblige him; and seeing Love dance in his Eyes, of which she was so good
+a Judge, she treated him more like a Lover, than a Servant; till at last
+the ravished Youth, wholly transported out of himself, fell at her Feet,
+and impatiently implor'd to receive her Commands quickly, that he might
+fly to execute them; for he was not able to bear her charming Words,
+Looks, and Touches, and retain his Duty. At this she smil'd, and told
+him, the Work was of such a Nature, as would mortify all Flames about
+him; and he would have more Need of Rage, Envy, and Malice, than the
+Aids of a Passion so soft as what she now found him capable of. He
+assur'd her, he would stick at nothing, tho' even against his Nature, to
+recompense for the Boldness he now, through his Indiscretion, had
+discover'd. She smiling, told him, he had committed no Fault; and that
+possibly, the Pay he should receive for the Service she required at his
+Hands, should be--what he most wish'd for in the World. At this he bow'd
+to the Earth; and kissing her Feet, bad her command: And then she boldly
+told him, _'Twas to kill her Sister_ Alcidiana. The Youth, without so
+much as starting or pausing upon the Matter, told her, _It should be
+done_; and bowing low, immediately went out of the Closet. She call'd
+him back, and would have given him some Instruction; but he refused it,
+and said, 'The Action and the Contrivance should be all his own.' And
+offering to go again, she--again recalled him; putting into his Hand a
+Purse of a hundred Pistoles, which he took, and with a low Bow departed.
+
+He no sooner left her Presence, but he goes directly, and buys a Dose of
+Poison, and went immediately to the House where _Alcidiana_ lived; where
+desiring to be brought to her Presence, he fell a weeping; and told her,
+his Lady had fallen out with him, and dismissed him her Service, and
+since from a Child he had been brought up in the Family, he humbly
+besought _Alcidiana_ to receive him into hers, she being in a few Days
+to be marry'd. There needed not much Intreaty to a Thing that pleased
+her so well, and she immediately received him to Pension: And he waited
+some Days on her, before he could get an Opportunity to administer his
+devilish Potion. But one Night, when she drank Wine with roasted Apples,
+which was usual with her; instead of Sugar, or with the Sugar, the
+baneful Drug was mixed, and she drank it down.
+
+About this Time, there was a great Talk of this Page's coming from one
+Sister, to go to the other. And Prince _Tarquin_, who was ignorant of
+the Design from the Beginning to the End, hearing some Men of Quality at
+his Table speaking of _Van Brune's_ Change of Place (the Princess then
+keeping her Chamber upon some trifling Indisposition) he answer'd, 'That
+surely they were mistaken, that he was not dismissed from the Princess's
+Service:' And calling some of his Servants, he asked for _Van Brune_;
+and whether any Thing had happen'd between her Highness and him, that
+had occasion'd his being turned off. They all seem'd ignorant of this
+Matter; and those who had spoken of it, began to fancy there was some
+Juggle in the Case, which Time would bring to Light.
+
+The ensuing Day 'twas all about the Town, that _Alcidiana_ was poison'd;
+and though not dead, yet very near it; and that the Doctors said, she
+had taken Mercury. So that there was never so formidable a Sight as this
+fair young Creature; her Head and Body swoln, her Eyes starting out, her
+Face black, and all deformed: So that diligent Search was made, who it
+should be that did this; who gave her Drink and Meat. The Cook and
+Butler were examined, the Footman called to an Account; but all
+concluded, she received nothing but from the Hand of her new Page, since
+he came into her Service. He was examined, and shew'd a thousand guilty
+Looks: And the Apothecary, then attending among the Doctors, proved he
+had bought Mercury of him three or four Days before; which he could not
+deny; and making many Excuses for his buying it, betray'd him the more;
+so ill he chanced to dissemble. He was immediately sent to be examined
+by the Margrave or Justice, who made his _Mittimus_, and sent him to
+Prison.
+
+'Tis easy to imagine, in what Fears and Confusion the Princess was at
+this News: She took her Chamber upon it, more to hide her guilty Face,
+than for any Indisposition. And the Doctors apply'd such Remedies to
+_Alcidiana_, such Antidotes against the Poison, that in a short Time she
+recover'd; but lost the finest Hair in the World, and the Complexion of
+her Face ever after.
+
+It was not long before the Trials for Criminals came on; and the Day
+being arrived, _Van Brune_ was try'd the first of all; every Body having
+already read his Destiny, according as they wished it; and none would
+believe, but just indeed as it was: So that for the Revenge they hoped
+to see fall upon the Princess, every one wished he might find no Mercy,
+that she might share of his Shame and Misery.
+
+The Sessions-House was filled that Day with all the Ladies, and chief of
+the Town, to hear the Result of his Trial; and the sad Youth was
+brought, loaded with Chains, and pale as Death; where every Circumstance
+being sufficiently proved against him, and he making but a weak Defence
+for himself, he was convicted, and sent back to Prison, to receive his
+Sentence of Death on the Morrow; where he owned all, and who set him on
+to do it. He own'd 'twas not Reward of Gain he did it for, but Hope he
+should command at his Pleasure the Possession of his Mistress, the
+Princess, who should deny him nothing, after having entrusted him with
+so great a Secret; and that besides, she had elevated him with the
+Promise of that glorious Reward, and had dazzled his young Heart with so
+charming a Prospect, that blind and mad with Joy, he rushed forward to
+gain the desired Prize, and thought on nothing but his coming Happiness:
+That he saw too late the Follies of his presumptuous Flame, and cursed
+the deluding Flatteries of the fair Hypocrite, who had soothed him to
+his Undoing: That he was a miserable Victim to her Wickedness; and hoped
+he should warn all young Men, by his Fall, to avoid the Dissimulation of
+the deceiving Fair: That he hoped they would have Pity on his Youth, and
+attribute his Crime to the subtle Persuasions alone of his Mistress the
+Princess: And that since _Alcidiana_ was not dead, they would grant him
+Mercy, and permit him to live to repent of his grievous Crime, in some
+Part of the World, whither they might banish him.
+
+He ended with Tears, that fell in abundance from his Eyes; and
+immediately the Princess was apprehended, and brought to Prison, to the
+same Prison where yet the poor young Father _Francisco_ was languishing,
+he having been from Week to Week reprieved, by the Intercession of the
+Fathers; and possibly she there had Time to make some Reflections.
+
+You may imagine _Tarquin_ left no Means unessay'd, to prevent the
+Imprisonment of the Princess, and the publick Shame and Infamy she was
+likely to undergo in this Affair: But the whole City being over-joy'd
+that she should be punished, as an Author of all this Mischief, were
+generally bent against her, both Priests, Magistrates and People; the
+whole Force of the Stream running that Way, she found no more Favour
+than the meanest Criminal. The Prince therefore, when he saw 'twas
+impossible to rescue her from the Hands of Justice, suffer'd with Grief
+unspeakable, what he could not prevent, and led her himself to the
+Prison, follow'd by all his People, in as much State as if he had been
+going to his Marriage; where, when she came, she was as well attended
+and served as before, he never stirring one Moment from her.
+
+The next Day, she was tried in open and common Court; where she appeared
+in Glory, led by _Tarquin_, and attended according to her Quality: And
+she could not deny all the Page had alledged against her, who was
+brought thither also in Chains; and after a great many Circumstances,
+she was found Guilty, and both received Sentence; the Page to be hanged
+till he was dead, on a Gibbet in the Market-Place; and the Princess to
+stand under the Gibbet, with a Rope about her Neck, the other End of
+which was to be fastned to the Gibbet where the Page was hanging; and to
+have an Inscription, in large Characters, upon her Back and Breast, of
+the Cause why; where she was to stand from ten in the Morning to twelve.
+
+This Sentence, the People with one Accord, believed too favourable for
+so ill a Woman, whose Crimes deserved Death, equal to that of _Van
+Brune_. Nevertheless, there were some who said, it was infinitely more
+severe than Death it self.
+
+The following _Friday_ was the Day of Execution, and one need not tell
+of the Abundance of People, who were flocked together in the
+Market-Place: And all the Windows were taken down, and filled with
+Spectators, and the Tops of Houses; when at the Hour appointed, the
+fatal Beauty appear'd. She was dress'd in a black Velvet Gown, with a
+rich Row of Diamonds all down the fore Part of her Breast, and a great
+Knot of Diamonds at the Peak behind; and a Petticoat of flower'd Gold,
+very rich, and laced; with all Things else suitable. A Gentleman carry'd
+her great Velvet Cushion before her, on which her Prayer-Book,
+embroider'd, was laid; her Train was borne up by a Page, and the Prince
+led her, bare; followed by his Footmen, Pages, and other Officers of his
+House.
+
+When they arrived at the Place of Execution, the Cushion was laid on the
+Ground, upon a _Portugal_ Mat, spread there for that Purpose; and the
+Princess stood on the Cushion, with her Prayer-Book in her Hand, and a
+Priest by her Side; and was accordingly tied up to the Gibbet.
+
+She had not stood there ten Minutes, but she had the Mortification
+(at least one would think it so to her) to see her sad Page, _Van
+Brune_, approach, fair as an Angel, but languishing and pale. That Sight
+moved all the Beholders with as much Pity, as that of the Princess did
+with Disdain and Pleasure.
+
+He was dressed all in Mourning, and very fine Linen, bare-headed, with
+his own Hair, the fairest that could be seen, hanging all in Curls on
+his Back and Shoulders, very long. He had a Prayer-Book of black Velvet
+in his Hand, and behaved himself with much Penitence and Devotion.
+
+When he came under the Gibbet, he seeing his Mistress in that Condition,
+shew'd an infinite Concern, and his fair Face was cover'd over with
+Blushes; and falling at her Feet, he humbly ask'd her Pardon for having
+been the Occasion of so great an Infamy to her, by a weak Confession,
+which the Fears of Youth, and Hopes of Life, had obliged him to make, so
+greatly to her Dishonour; for indeed he wanted that manly Strength, to
+bear the Efforts of dying, as he ought, in Silence, rather than of
+commiting so great a Crime against his Duty, and Honour itself; and that
+he could not die in Peace, unless she would forgive him. The Princess
+only nodded her Head, and cried, _I do_--
+
+And after having spoken a little to his Father-Confessor, who was with
+him, he chearfully mounted the Ladder, and in Sight of the Princess he
+was turned off, while a loud Cry was heard thro' all the Market-Place,
+especially from the Fair Sex; he hanged there till the Time the Princess
+was to depart; and then she was put into a rich embroider'd Chair, and
+carry'd away, _Tarquin_ going into his, for he had all that Time stood
+supporting the Princess under the Gallows, and was very weary. She was
+sent back, till her Releasement came, which was that Night about seven
+o'Clock; and then she was conducted to her own House in great State,
+with a Dozen White Wax Flambeaux about her Chair.
+
+If the Guardian of _Alcidiana_, and her Friends, before were impatient
+of having the Portion out of the Hands of these Extravagants, it is not
+to be imagined, but they were now much more so; and the next Day they
+sent an Officer, according to Law, to demand it, or to summon the Prince
+to give Reasons why he would not pay it. The Officer received for
+Answer, That the Money should be call'd in, and paid in such a Time,
+setting a certain Time, which I have not been so curious as to retain,
+or put in my Journal-Observations; but I am sure it was not long, as may
+be easily imagin'd, for they every Moment suspected the Prince would
+pack up, and be gone, some time or other, on the sudden; and for that
+Reason they would not trust him without Bail, or two Officers to remain
+in his House, to watch that nothing should be remov'd or touch'd. As for
+Bail, or Security, he could give none; every one slunk their Heads out
+of the Collar, when it came to that: So that he was oblig'd, at his own
+Expence, to maintain Officers in his House.
+
+The Princess finding her self reduced to the last Extremity, and that
+she must either produce the Value of a hundred thousand Crowns, or see
+the Prince her Husband lodged for ever in a Prison, and all their Glory
+vanish; and that it was impossible to fly, since guarded; she had
+Recourse to an Extremity, worse than the Affair of _Van Brune_. And in
+order to this, she first puts on a world of Sorrow and Concern, for what
+she feared might arrive to the Prince: And indeed, if ever she shed
+Tears which she did not dissemble, it was upon this Occasion. But here
+she almost over-acted: She stirred not from her Bed, and refused to eat,
+or sleep, or see the Light; so that the Day being shut out of her
+Chamber, she lived by Wax-lights, and refus'd all Comfort and
+Consolation.
+
+The Prince, all raving with Love, tender Compassion and Grief, never
+stirred from her Bed-side, nor ceas'd to implore, that she would suffer
+herself to live. But she, who was not now so passionately in Love with
+_Tarquin_, as she was with the Prince; nor so fond of the Man as his
+Titles, and of Glory; foresaw the total Ruin of the last, if not
+prevented by avoiding the Payment of this great Sum; which could not
+otherwise be, than by the Death of _Alcidiana_: And therefore, without
+ceasing, she wept, and cry'd out, 'She could not live, unless
+_Alcidiana_ died. This _Alcidiana_ (_continued she_) who has been the
+Author of my Shame; who has expos'd me under a Gibbet, in the Publick
+Market-Place--Oh!--I am deaf to all Reason, blind to natural Affection.
+I renounce her, I hate her as my mortal Foe, my Stop to Glory, and the
+Finisher of my Days, e'er half my Race of Life be run.'
+
+Then throwing her false, but snowy, charming Arms about the Neck her
+Heart-breaking Lord, and Lover, who lay sighing, and listening by her
+Side, he was charmed and bewitch'd into saying all Things that appeased
+her; and lastly, told her, '_Alcidiana_ should be no longer any Obstacle
+to her Repose; but that, if she would look up, and cast her Eyes of
+Sweetness and Love upon him, as heretofore; forget her Sorrow, and
+redeem her lost Health; he would take what Measures she should propose
+to dispatch this fatal Stop to her Happiness, out of the Way.'
+
+These Words failed not to make her caress him in the most endearing
+Manner that Love and Flattery could invent; and she kiss'd him to an
+Oath, a solemn Oath, to perform what he had promised; and he vow'd
+liberally. And she assumed in an Instant her Good-Humour, and suffer'd a
+Supper to be prepared, and did eat; which in many Days before she had
+not done: So obstinate and powerful was she in dissembling well.
+
+The next Thing to be consider'd was, which Way this Deed was to be done;
+for they doubted not, but when it was done, all the World would lay it
+upon the Princess, as done by her Command: But she urged, Suspicion was
+no Proof; and that they never put to Death any one, but when they had
+great and certain Evidence who were the Offenders. She was sure of her
+own Constancy, that Racks and Tortures should never get the Secret from
+her Breast; and if he were as confident on his Part, there was no
+Danger. Yet this Preparation she made towards laying the Fact on others,
+that she caused several Letters to be wrote from _Germany_, as from the
+Relations of _Van Brune_, who threaten'd _Alcidiana_ with Death, for
+depriving their Kinsman (who was a Gentleman) of his Life, though he had
+not taken away hers. And it was the Report of the Town, how this young
+Maid was threaten'd. And indeed, the Death of the Page had so afflicted
+a great many, that _Alcidiana_ had procured her self abundance of
+Enemies upon that Account, because she might have saved him if she had
+pleased; but, on the contrary, she was a Spectator, and in full Health
+and Vigour, at his Execution: And People were not so much concerned for
+her at this Report, as they would have been.
+
+The Prince, who now had, by reasoning the Matter soberly with _Miranda_,
+found it absolutely necessary to dispatch _Alcidiana_, resolved himself,
+and with his own Hand, to execute it; not daring to trust to any of his
+most favourite Servants, though he had many, who possibly would have
+obey'd him; for they loved him as he deserved, and so would all the
+World, had he not been so purely deluded by this fair Enchantress. He
+therefore, as I said, resolved to keep this great Secret to himself; and
+taking a Pistol, charged well with two Bullets, he watch'd an
+Opportunity to shoot her as she should go out or into her House, or
+Coach, some Evening.
+
+To this End he waited several Nights near her Lodgings, but still,
+either she went not out, or when she return'd, she was so guarded with
+Friends, her Lover, and Flambeaux, that he could not aim at her without
+endangering the Life of some other. But one Night above the rest, upon a
+_Sunday_, when he knew she would be at the Theatre, for she never missed
+that Day seeing the Play, he waited at the Corner of the Stadt-House,
+near the Theatre, with his Cloak cast over his Face, and a black
+Periwig, all alone, with his Pistol ready cock'd; and remain'd not very
+long but he saw her Kinsman's Coach come along; 'twas almost dark, Day
+was just shutting up her Beauties, and left such a Light to govern the
+World, as serv'd only just to distinguish one Object from another, and a
+convenient Help to Mischief. He saw alight out of the Coach only one
+young Lady, the Lover, and then the destin'd Victim; which he (drawing
+near) knew rather by her Tongue than Shape. The Lady ran into the
+Play-House, and left _Alcidiana_ to be conducted by her Lover into it:
+Who led her to the Door, and went to give some Order to the Coachman; so
+that the Lover was about twenty Yards from _Alcidiana_; when she stood
+the fairest Mark in the World, on the Threshold of the Entrance of the
+Theatre, there being many Coaches about the Door, so that hers could not
+come so near. _Tarquin_ was resolved not to lose so fair an Opportunity,
+and advanc'd, but went behind the Coaches; and when he came over-against
+the Door, through a great booted Velvet Coach, that stood between him
+and her, he shot; and she having the Train of her Gown and Petticoat on
+her Arm, in great Quantity, he missed her Body, and shot through her
+Clothes, between her Arm and her Body. She, frighten'd to find something
+hit her, and to see the Smoke, and hear the Report of the Pistol;
+running in, cried, _I am shot, I am dead._
+
+This Noise quickly alarm'd her Lover; and all the Coachmen and Footmen
+immediately ran, some one Way, and some another. One of 'em seeing a Man
+haste away in a Cloak; he being a lusty, bold _German_, stopped him; and
+drawing upon him, bad him stand, and deliver his Pistol, or he would run
+him through.
+
+_Tarquin_ being surprised at the Boldness of this Fellow to demand his
+Pistol, as if he positively knew him to be the Murderer (for so he
+thought himself, since he believed _Alcidiana_ dead) had so much
+Presence of Mind as to consider, if he suffered himself to be taken, he
+should poorly die a publick Death; and therefore resolv'd upon one
+Mischief more, to secure himself from the first: And in the Moment that
+the _German_ bad him deliver his Pistol, he cried, _Though I have no
+Pistol to deliver, I have a Sword to chastise thy Insolence_. And
+throwing off his Cloak, and flinging his Pistol from him, he drew, and
+wounded, and disarmed the Fellow.
+
+This Noise of Swords brought every body to the Place; and immediately
+the Bruit ran, _The Murderer was taken, the Murderer was taken_; Tho'
+none knew which was he, nor as yet so much as the Cause of the Quarrel
+between the two fighting Men; for it was now darker than before. But at
+the Noise of the Murderer being taken, the Lover of _Alcidiana_, who by
+this Time found his Lady unhurt, all but the Trains of her Gown and
+Petticoat, came running to the Place, just as _Tarquin_ had disarm'd the
+_German_, and was ready to kill him; when laying hold of his Arm, they
+arrested the Stroke, and redeemed the Footman.
+
+They then demanded who this Stranger was, at whose Mercy the Fellow lay;
+but the Prince, who now found himself venturing for his last Stake, made
+no Reply; but with two Swords in his Hands went to fight his Way through
+the Rabble; And tho' there were above a hundred Persons, some with
+Swords, others with long Whips, (as Coachmen) so invincible was the
+Courage of this poor unfortunate Gentleman at that Time, that all these
+were not able to seize him; but he made his Way through the Ring that
+encompassed him, and ran away; but was, however, so closely pursued, the
+Company still gathering as they ran, that toiled with fighting,
+oppressed with Guilt, and Fear of being taken, he grew fainter and
+fainter, and suffered himself, at last, to yield to his Pursuers, who
+soon found him to be Prince _Tarquin_ in Disguise: And they carry'd him
+directly to Prison, being _Sunday_, to wait the coming Day, to go before
+a Magistrate.
+
+In an Hour's Time the whole fatal Adventure was carried all over the
+City, and every one knew that _Tarquin_ was the intended Murderer of
+_Alcidiana_; and not one but had a real Sorrow and Compassion for him.
+They heard how bravely he had defended himself, how many he had wounded
+before he could be taken, and what numbers he had fought through: And
+even those that saw his Valour and Bravery, and who had assisted at his
+being seiz'd, now repented from the Bottom of their Hearts their having
+any Hand in the Ruin of so gallant a Man; especially since they knew the
+Lady was not hurt. A thousand Addresses were made to her, not to
+prosecute him; but her Lover, a hot-headed Fellow, more fierce than
+brave, would by no Means be pacified, but vowed to pursue him to the
+Scaffold.
+
+The _Monday_ came, and the Prince being examined, confessed the Matter
+of Fact, since there was no Harm done; believing a generous Confession
+the best of his Game: But he was sent back to closer Imprisonment,
+loaded with Irons, to expect the next Sessions. All his Household-Goods
+were seiz'd, and all they could find, for the Use of _Alcidiana_. And
+the Princess, all in Rage, tearing her Hair, was carried to the same
+Prison, to behold the cruel Effects of her hellish Designs.
+
+One need not tell here how sad and horrid this Meeting appear'd between
+her Lord and her: Let it suffice, it was the most melancholy and
+mortifying Object that ever Eyes beheld. On _Miranda's_ Part, 'twas
+sometimes all Rage and Fire, and sometimes all Tears and Groans; but
+still 'twas sad Love, and mournful Tenderness on his. Nor could all his
+Sufferings, and the Prospect of Death itself, drive from his Soul one
+Spark of that Fire the obstinate God had fatally kindled there: And in
+the midst of all his Sighs, he would re-call himself, and cry,--_I have
++Miranda+ still._
+
+He was eternally visited by his Friends and Acquaintance; and this last
+Action of Bravery had got him more than all his former Conduct had lost.
+The Fathers were perpetually with him; and all join'd with one common
+Voice in this, That he ought to abandon a Woman so wicked as the
+Princess; and that however Fate dealt with him, he could not shew
+himself a true Penitent, while he laid the Author of so much Evil in his
+Bosom: That Heaven would never bless him, till he had renounced her: And
+on such Conditions he would find those that would employ their utmost
+Interest to save his Life, who else would not stir in this Affair. But
+he was so deaf to all, that he could not so much as dissemble a
+Repentance for having married her.
+
+He lay a long Time in Prison, and all that Time the poor Father
+_Francisco_ remained there also: And the good Fathers who daily visited
+these two amorous Prisoners, the Prince and Princess; and who found, by
+the Management of Matters, it would go very hard with _Tarquin_,
+entertained 'em often with holy Matters relating to the Life to come;
+from which, before his Trial, he gathered what his Stars had appointed,
+and that he was destin'd to die.
+
+This gave an unspeakable Torment to the now repenting Beauty, who had
+reduced him to it; and she began to appear with a more solid Grief:
+Which being perceived by the good Fathers, they resolved to attack her
+on the yielding Side; and after some Discourse upon the Judgment for
+Sin, they came to reflect on the Business of Father _Francisco_; and
+told her, she had never thriven since her accusing of that Father, and
+laid it very home to her Conscience; assuring her that they would do
+their utmost in her Service, if she would confess that secret Sin to all
+the World, so that she might atone for the Crime, by the saving that
+good Man. At first she seemed inclined to yield; but Shame of being her
+own Detector, in so vile a Matter, recalled her Goodness, and she
+faintly persisted in it.
+
+At the End of six Months, Prince _Tarquin_ was called to his Tryal;
+where I will pass over the Circumstances, which are only what is usual
+in such criminal Cases, and tell you, that he being found guilty of the
+Intent of killing _Alcidiana_, was condemned to lose his Head in the
+Market-Place, and the Princess to be banished her Country.
+
+After Sentence pronounced, to the real Grief of all the Spectators, he
+was carry'd back to Prison, and now the Fathers attack her anew; and
+she, whose Griefs daily encreased, with a Languishment that brought her
+very near her Grave, at last confess'd all her Life, all the Lewdness of
+her Practices with several Princes and great Men, besides her Lusts with
+People that served her, and others in mean Capacity: And lastly, the
+whole Truth of the young Friar; and how she had drawn the Page, and the
+Prince her Husband, to this design'd Murder of her Sister. This she
+signed with her Hand, in the Presence of the Prince, her Husband, and
+several Holy Men who were present. Which being signify'd to the
+Magistrates, the Friar was immediately deliver'd from his Irons (where
+he had languished more than two whole Years) in great Triumph, with much
+Honour, and lives a most exemplary pious Life, as he did before; for he
+is now living in _Antwerp_.
+
+After the Condemnation of these two unfortunate Persons, who begot such
+different Sentiments in the Minds of the People (the Prince, all the
+Compassion and Pity imaginable; and the Princess, all the Contempt and
+Despite;) they languished almost six Months longer in Prison; so great
+an Interest there was made, in order to the saving his Life, by all the
+Men of the Robe. On the other side, the Princes, and great Men of all
+Nations, who were at the Court of _Brussels_, who bore a secret Revenge
+in their Hearts against a Man who had, as they pretended, set up a false
+Title, only to take Place of them; who indeed was but a Merchant's Son
+of _Holland_, as they said; so incens'd them against him, that they were
+too hard at Court for the Church-men. However, this Dispute gave the
+Prince his Life some Months longer than was expected; which gave him
+also some Hope, that a Reprieve for ninety Years would have been
+granted, as was desired. Nay, Father _Francisco_ so interested himself
+in this Concern, that he writ to his Father, and several Princes of
+_Germany_, with whom the Marquis _Castel Roderigo_ was well acquainted,
+to intercede with him for the saving of _Tarquin_; since 'twas more by
+his Persuasions, than those of all who attacked her, that made _Miranda_
+confess the Truth of her Affair with him. But at the End of six Months,
+when all Applications were found fruitless and vain, the Prince receiv'd
+News, that in two Days he was to die, as his Sentence had been before
+pronounced, and for which he prepared himself with all Chearfulness.
+
+On the following _Friday_, as soon as it was light, all People of any
+Condition came to take their Leaves of him; and none departed with dry
+Eyes, or Hearts unconcern'd to the last Degree: For _Tarquin_, when he
+found his Fate inevitable bore it with a Fortitude that shewed no Signs
+of Regret; but address'd himself to all about him with the same
+chearful, modest, and great Air, he was wont to do in his most
+flourishing Fortune. His Valet was dressing him all the Morning, so many
+Interruptions they had by Visitors; and he was all in Mourning, and so
+were all his Followers; for even to the last he kept up his Grandeur, to
+the Amazement of all People. And indeed, he was so passionately belov'd
+by them, that those he had dismiss'd, serv'd him voluntarily, and would
+not be persuaded to abandon him while he liv'd.
+
+The Princess was also dress'd in Mourning, and her two Women; and
+notwithstanding the unheard-of Lewdness and Villanies she had confess'd
+of her self, the Prince still ador'd her; for she had still those Charms
+that made him first do so; nor, to his last Moment, could he be brought
+to wish, that he had never seen her; but on the contrary, as a Man yet
+vainly proud of his Fetters, he said, 'All the Satisfaction this short
+Moment of Life could afford him, was, that he died in endeavouring to
+serve _Miranda_, his adorable Princess.'
+
+After he had taken Leave of all, who thought it necessary to leave him
+to himself for some Time, he retir'd with his Confessor; where they were
+about an Hour in Prayer, all the Ceremonies of Devotion that were fit to
+be done, being already past. At last the Bell toll'd, and he was to take
+Leave of the Princess, as his last Work of Life, and the most hard he
+had to accomplish. He threw himself at her Feet, and gazing on her as
+she sat more dead than alive, overwhelm'd with silent Grief, they both
+remain'd some Moments speechless; and then, as if one rising Tide of
+Tears had supply'd both their Eyes, it burst out in Streams at the same
+Instant: and when his Sighs gave Way, he utter'd a thousand Farewels, so
+soft, so passionate, and moving, that all who were by were extremely
+touch'd with it, and said, _That nothing could be seen more deplorable
+and melancholy_. A thousand Times they bad Farewel, and still some
+tender Look, or Word, would prevent his going; then embrace, and bid
+Farewel again. A thousand Times she ask'd his Pardon for being the
+Occasion of that fatal Separation; a thousand Times assuring him, she
+would follow him, for she could not live without him. And Heaven knows
+when their soft and sad Caresses would have ended, had not the Officers
+assur'd him 'twas Time to mount the Scaffold. At which Words the
+Princess fell fainting in the Arms of her Woman, and they led _Tarquin_
+out of Prison.
+
+When he came to the Market-Place, whither he walked on Foot, follow'd by
+his own Domesticks, and some bearing a black Velvet Coffin with Silver
+Hinges; the Head's-man before him with his fatal Scimiter drawn, his
+Confessor by his Side, and many Gentlemen and Church-men, with Father
+_Francisco_ attending him, the People showring Millions of Blessings on
+him, and beholding him with weeping Eyes, he mounted the Scaffold; which
+was strewed with some Saw-dust, about the Place where he was to kneel,
+to receive the Blood: For they behead People kneeling, and with the
+Back-Stroak of a Scimiter; and not lying on a Block, and with an Axe, as
+we in _England_. The Scaffold had a low Rail about it, that every body
+might more conveniently see. This was hung with black, and all that
+State that such a Death could have, was here in most decent Order.
+
+He did not say much upon the Scaffold: The Sum of what he said to his
+Friends was, to be kind, and take Care of the poor Penitent his Wife: To
+others, recommending his honest and generous Servants, whose Fidelity
+was so well known and commended, that they were soon promised
+Preferment. He was some time in Prayer, and a very short time in
+speaking to his Confessor; then he turned to the Head's-man, and desired
+him to do his Office well, and gave him twenty _Louis d'Ors_; and
+undressing himself with the Help of his Valet and Page, he pull'd off
+his Coat, and had underneath a white Sattin Waistcoat: He took off his
+Periwig, and put on a white Sattin Cap, with a Holland one done with
+Point under it, which he pulled over his Eyes; then took a chearful
+Leave of all, and kneel'd down, and said, 'When he lifted up his Hands
+the third Time, the Head's-man should do his Office.' Which accordingly
+was done, and the Head's-man gave him his last Stroke, and the Prince
+fell on the Scaffold. The People with one common Voice, as if it had
+been but one entire one, pray'd for his Soul; and Murmurs of Sighs were
+heard from the whole Multitude, who scrambled for some of the bloody
+Saw-dust, to keep for his Memory.
+
+The Head's-man going to take up the Head, as the Manner is, to shew it
+to the People, he found he had not struck it off, and that the Body
+stirr'd; with that he stepped to an Engine, which they always carry with
+'em, to force those who may be refractory; thinking, as he said, to have
+twisted the Head from the Shoulders, conceiving it to hang but by a
+small Matter of Flesh. Tho' 'twas an odd Shift of the Fellow's, yet
+'twas done, and the best Shift he could suddenly propose. The Margrave,
+and another Officer, old Men, were on the Scaffold, with some of the
+Prince's Friends, and Servants; who seeing the Head's-man put the Engine
+about the Neck of the Prince, began to call out, and the People made a
+great Noise. The Prince, who found himself yet alive; or rather, who was
+past thinking but had some Sense of Feeling left, when the Head's-man
+took him up, and set his Back against the Rail, and clapp'd the Engine
+about his Neck, got his two Thumbs between the Rope and his Neck,
+feeling himself press'd there; and struggling between Life and Death,
+and bending himself over the Rail backward, while the Head's-man pulled
+forward, he threw himself quite over the Rail, by Chance, and not
+Design, and fell upon the Heads and Shoulders of the People, who were
+crying out with amazing Shouts of Joy. The Head's-man leap'd after him,
+but the Rabble had lik'd to have pull'd him to Pieces: All the City was
+in an Uproar, but none knew what the Matter was, but those who bore the
+Body of the Prince, whom they found yet living; but how, or by what
+strange Miracle preserv'd, they knew not, nor did examine; but with one
+Accord, as if the whole Crowd had been one Body, and had had but one
+Motion, they bore the Prince on their Heads about a hundred Yards from
+the Scaffold, where there is a Monastery of Jesuits; and there they
+secur'd him. All this was done, his beheading, his falling, and his
+being secur'd, almost in a Moment's Time; the People rejoiceing, as at
+some extraordinary Victory won. One of the Officers being, as I said, an
+old timorous Man, was so frighten'd at the Accident, the Bustle, the
+Noise, and the Confusion, of which he was wholly ignorant, that he dy'd
+with Amazement and Fear; and the other was fain to be let blood.
+
+The Officers of Justice went to demand the Prisoner, but they demanded
+in vain; the Jesuits had now a Right to protect him, and would do so.
+All his overjoy'd Friends went to see in what Condition he was, and all
+of Quality found Admittance: They saw him in Bed, going to be dress'd by
+the most skilful Surgeons, who yet could not assure him of Life. They
+desired no body should speak to him, or ask him any Questions. They
+found that the Head's-man had struck him too low, and had cut him into
+the Shoulder-bone. A very great Wound, you may be sure; for the Sword,
+in such Executions, carries an extreme Force: However, so great Care was
+taken on all Sides, and so greatly the Fathers were concern'd for him,
+that they found an Amendment, and Hopes of a good Effect of their
+incomparable Charity and Goodness.
+
+At last, when he was permitted to speak, the first News he ask'd was
+after the Princess. And his Friends were very much afflicted to find,
+that all his Loss of Blood had not quenched that Flame, not let out that
+which made him still love that bad Woman. He was sollicited daily to
+think no more of her: And all her Crimes are laid so open to him, and so
+shamefully represented; and on the other Side, his Virtues so admir'd;
+and which, they said, would have been eternally celebrated, but for his
+Folly with this infamous Creature; that at last, by assuring him of all
+their Assistance if he abandon'd her; and to renounce him, and deliver
+him up, if he did not; they wrought so far upon him, as to promise, he
+would suffer her to go alone into Banishment, and would not follow her,
+or live with her any more. But alas! this was but his Gratitude that
+compell'd this Complaisance, for in his Heart he resolv'd never to
+abandon her; nor was he able to live, and think of doing it: However,
+his Reason assur'd him, he could not do a Deed more justifiable, and one
+that would regain his Fame sooner.
+
+His Friends ask'd him some Questions concerning his Escape; and since he
+was not beheaded, but only wounded, why he did not immediately rise up?
+But he replied, he was so absolutely prepossessed, that at the third
+lifting up his Hands he should receive the Stroke of Death, that at the
+same Instant the Sword touch'd him, he had no Sense; nay, not even of
+Pain, so absolutely dead he was with Imagination; and knew not that he
+stirr'd, as the Head's-man found he did; nor did he remember any Thing,
+from the lifting up of his Hands, to his fall; and then awaken'd, as out
+of a Dream, or rather a Moment's Sleep without Dream, he found he liv'd,
+and wonder'd what was arriv'd to him, or how he came to live; having
+not, as yet, any Sense of his Wound, tho' so terrible an one.
+
+After this, _Alcidiana_, who was extremely afflicted for having been the
+Prosecutor of this great Man; who, bating this last Design against her,
+which she knew was at the Instigation of her Sister, had oblig'd her
+with all the Civility imaginable; now sought all Means possible of
+getting his Pardon, and that of her Sister; tho' of an hundred thousand
+Crowns, which she should have paid her, she could get but ten thousand;
+which was from the Sale of her rich Beds, and some other Furniture. So
+that the young Count, who before should have marry'd her, now went off
+for want of Fortune; and a young Merchant (perhaps the best of the two)
+was the Man to whom she was destin'd.
+
+At last, by great Intercession, both their Pardons were obtain'd; and
+the Prince, who would be no more seen in a Place that had prov'd every
+way so fatal to him, left _Flanders_, promising never to live with the
+Fair Hypocrite more; but e'er he departed, he wrote her a Letter,
+wherein he order'd her, in a little Time, to follow him into _Holland_;
+and left a Bill of Exchange with one of his trusty Servants, whom he had
+left to wait upon her, for Money for her Accommodation; so that she was
+now reduced to one Woman, one Page, and this Gentleman. The Prince, in
+this Time of his Imprisonment, had several Bills of great Sums from his
+Father, who was exceeding rich, and this all the Children he had in the
+World, and whom he tenderly loved.
+
+As soon as _Miranda_ was come into _Holland_, she was welcom'd with all
+imaginable Respect and Endearment by the old Father; who was impos'd
+upon so, as that he knew not she was the fatal Occasion of all these
+Disasters to his Son; but rather look'd on her as a Woman, who had
+brought him an hundred and fifty thousand Crowns, which his Misfortunes
+had consum'd. But, above all, she was receiv'd by _Tarquin_ with a Joy
+unspeakable; who, after some Time, to redeem his Credit, and gain
+himself a new Fame, put himself into the _French_ Army, where he did
+Wonders; and after three Campaigns, his Father dying, he return'd home,
+and retir'd to a Country-House; where, with his Princess, he liv'd as a
+private Gentleman, in all the Tranquillity of a Man of good Fortune.
+They say _Miranda_ has been very penitent for her Life past, and gives
+Heaven the Glory for having given her these Afflictions that have
+reclaim'd her, and brought her to as perfect a State of Happiness, as
+this troublesome World, can afford.
+
+Since I began this Relation, I heard that Prince _Tarquin_, dy'd about
+three Quarters of a Year ago.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Fair Jilt.
+
+
+p. 70 _To Henry Pain, Esq._ Henry Neville Payne, politician and author,
+was a thorough Tory and an ardent partisan of James II. Downes ascribes
+to him three plays: _The Fatal Jealousy_, produced at Dorset Garden in
+the winter of 1672, a good, if somewhat vehement, tragedy (4to, 1673);
+_Morning Ramble; or, Town Humours_, produced at the same theatre in 1673
+(4to, 1673), which, though lacking in plot and quick incident, is far
+from a bad comedy; and _The Siege of Constantinople_, acted by the
+Duke's company in 1674 (4to, 1675), a tragedy which very sharply lashes
+Shaftesbury as the Chancellor, especially in Act II, when Lorenzo, upon
+his patron designing a frolic, says:--
+
+  My Lord, you know your old house, Mother Somelie's,
+  You know she always fits you with fresh girls.
+
+Mother Somelie is, of course, the notorious Mother Mosely.
+
+Henry Payne wrote several loyal pamphlets, and after the Revolution he
+became, according to Burnet, 'the most active and determined of all King
+James' agents.' He is said to have been the chief instigator of the
+Montgomery plot in 1690, and whilst in Scotland was arrested. 10 and 11
+December of that year he was severely tortured under a special order of
+William III, but nothing could be extracted from him. This is the last
+occasion on which torture was applied in Scotland. After being treated
+with harshest cruelty by William III, Payne was finally released from
+prison in December, 1700, or January, 1701, as the Duke of Queensbury,
+recognizing the serious illegalities of the whole business, urgently
+advised his liberation. Payne died in 1710. As Macaulay consistently
+confounds him with a certain Edward Neville, S.J., the statements of
+this historian with reference to Henry Neville Payne must be entirely
+disregarded.
+
+p. 72 _The Fair Jilt._ Editio princeps, 'London. Printed by _R. Holt_
+for _Will. Canning_, at his Shop in the _Temple-Cloysters_' (1688),
+'Licensed 17 April, 1688. _Ric. Pocock_', has as title: _The Fair Jilt;
+or, The History of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. As half-title it prints:
+_The Fair Hypocrite; or, The Amours of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. All
+subsequent editions, however, give: _The Fair Jilt; or, The Amours of
+Prince Tarquin and Miranda_. The Dedication only occurs in the first
+edition.
+
+p. 73 _Scrutore._ Escritoire, cf. Sir T. Herbert, _Trav._ (1677): 'There
+they sell . . . Scrutores or Cabinets of Mother of Pearl.'
+
+p. 75 _Canonesses, Begines, Quests, Swart-Sisters and Jesuitesses._
+_Canonesses_ are very ancient in history. The most important
+Congregations are the Sepulchrines or Canonesses of the Holy Sepulchre,
+and the Lateran Canonesses. There was an old community of French
+Hospitaller Canonesses of Saint-Esprit. Thomassin tells us that the
+Beguines were canonesses, and that their name is derived from S. Begghe
+(_ob._ 689), who founded the Canonesses of Andenne. There are also
+Chapters of secular canonesses, nearly all Benedictine in origin. Many
+of these only admitted ladies of the highest rank. The French Revolution
+swept away a great number of these institutions, and some were
+suppressed by Joseph II of Austria. Premonstratensian (white) Canonesses
+were common in Belgium.
+
+_Begines._ Either founded by S. Begghe, or their name is derived from
+Lambert de Begue, a priest of Liege, in 1177. Some place their
+foundation at the beginning of the eleventh century in the Netherlands
+or Germany. After three years women who are enrolled are entitled to a
+little house. No vows are taken, but they assist in choir thrice daily.
+There are several hundreds at Ghent, and the Beguinage (ten Wijngaarde)
+of Bruges is famous.
+
+_Quests._ Queteuses. Extern Sisters, Poor Clares and Colettines; Lay
+Sisters, Dominicanesses, who go out and beg for the community. 'To
+quest' is to go alms-begging. The Sisters of Charity are of later
+foundation. cf. Translation, D'Emilliane's _Frauds of Romish Monks_
+(1691): 'The Farmer [of Purgatory Money] sends some of his Emissaries
+into the Fields to carry on the Quest there for the said Souls'; and
+_Earthquake . . . Peru_, iii, 303 (1748): 'If the Friars go into the
+Country a questing for their Monastery.'
+
+_Swart-Sisters._ Black Nuns. Dominicanesses, a feature of whose dresses
+is the cappa, a large black cloak and hood, worn from All Saints' Day
+till the 'Gloria' on Easter Eve, and on all great solemnities.
+
+_Jesuitesses._ A common misnomer for the original Congregation founded
+by Mary Ward (_ob._ 1645), and named by her 'The Institute of Mary'. It
+was not until 1703 that they were fully approved by Clement XI.
+
+p. 78 _Cordeliers._ Observant Franciscans, who follow the strict Rule of
+Poverty and observe all the fasts and austerities of the Order. This
+name was first given them in France, where later they were known as
+Recollects.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+OROONOKO; OR THE ROYAL SLAVE.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+The tale of _Oroonoko, the Royal Slave_ is indisputedly Mrs. Behn's
+masterpiece in prose. Its originality and power have singled it out for
+a permanence and popularity none of her other works attained. It is
+vivid, realistic, pregnant with pathos, beauty, and truth, and not only
+has it so impressed itself upon the readers of more than two centuries,
+but further, it surely struck a new note in English literature and one
+which was re-echoed far and wide. It has been said that '_Oroonoko_ is
+the first emancipation novel', and there is no little acumen in this
+remark. Certainly we may absolve Mrs. Behn from having directly written
+with a purpose such as animated Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe's _Uncle
+Tom's Cabin_; but none the less her sympathy with the oppressed blacks,
+her deep emotions of pity for outraged humanity, her anger at the
+cruelties of the slave-driver aye ready with knout or knife, are
+manifest in every line. Beyond the intense interest of the pure
+narrative we have passages of a rhythm that is lyric, exquisitely
+descriptive of the picturesque tropical scenery and exotic vegetations,
+fragrant and luxuriant; there are intimate accounts of adventuring and
+primitive life; there are personal touches which lend a colour only
+personal touches can, as Aphara tells her prose-epic of her Superman,
+Caesar the slave, Oroonoko the prince.
+
+It is not difficult to trace the influence of _Oroonoko_. We can
+see it in many an English author; in Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, in
+Chateaubriand. Her idyllic romance has inspired writers who perhaps but
+dimly remember even her name and her genius.
+
+It was often reprinted separately from the rest. There is a little 12mo
+_Oroonoko_, 'the ninth edition corrected', published at Doncaster, 1759,
+'for C. Plummer', which is rarely seen save in a torn and well-thumbed
+state.[1]
+
+In 1777 the sentimental and highly proper Mrs. Elizabeth Griffith
+included _Oroonoko_ in her three volume _Collection of Novels selected
+and revised._ _Oroonoko_, 'written originally by Mrs. Behn and revised
+by Mrs. Griffith'[2], was also issued separately, 'price sixpence'[3],
+in 1800, frontispieced by a very crude picture of a black-a-moor about
+to attack a tiger.
+
+As early as 1709 we find _Lebens und Liebes-Geschichte des Koeniglichen
+Sclaven Oroonoko in West-Indien_, a German translation published at
+Hamburg, with a portrait of 'Die Sinnreiche Engellaenderin Mrs. Afra
+Behn.'
+
+In 1745 _Oroonoko_ was 'traduit de l'Anglois de Madame Behn,' with the
+motto from Lucan 'Quo fata trahunt virtus secura sequetur.' There is a
+rhymed dedication 'A Madame La M. P. D'l . . .' (35 lines), signed
+D. L.****, i.e., Pierre-Antoine de la Place, a fecund but mediocre
+writer of the eighteenth century (1707-93), who also translated, _Venice
+Preserv'd_, _The Fatal Marriage_, _Tom Jones_, and other English
+masterpieces. There is another edition of de la Place's version with
+fine plates engraved by C. Baron after Marillier, Londres, 1769.
+
+In 1696 Southerne's great tragedy, founded upon Mrs. Behn's novel, was
+produced at Drury Lane. Oroonoko was created by Verbruggen, Powell acted
+Aboan, and the beautiful Mrs. Rogers Imoinda. The play has some
+magnificent passages, and long kept the stage. Southerne had further
+added an excellent comic underplot, full of humour and the truest _vis
+comica_. It is perhaps worth noting that the intrigues of Lucy and
+Charlotte and the Lackitt _menage_ were dished up as a short slap-bang
+farce by themselves with, curiously enough, two or three scenes _in
+extenso_ from Fletcher's _Monsieur Thomas_ (III, iii, and V, ii). This
+hotch potch entitled _The Sexes Mis-match'd; or, A New Way to get a
+Husband_ is printed in _The Strollers' Pacquet open'd_. (12mo, 1741.) On
+1 December, 1759, there was brought out at Drury Lane a most insipid
+alteration of _Oroonoko_ by Dr. Hawkesworth, who omitted all Southerne's
+lighter fare and inserted serious nonsense of his own. Garrick was the
+Oroonoko and Mrs. Cibber Imoinda. Although Hawkesworth's version was not
+tolerated, the underplot was none the less pruned in later productions
+to such an extent that it perforce lost nearly all its pristine wit and
+fun. There is another adaption of Southerne: '_Oroonoko_ altered from
+the original play . . . to which the editor has added near six hundred
+lines in place of the comic scenes, together with an addition of two new
+characters, intended for one of the theatres.' (8vo, 1760.) The two new
+characters are Maria, sister to the Lieutenant-Governor and contracted
+to Blandford, and one Heartwell; both thoroughly tiresome individuals.
+In the same year Frank Gentleman, a provincial actor, produced his idea
+of _Oroonoko_ 'as it was acted at Edinburgh.' (12mo, 1760.) There is yet
+a fourth bastard: _The Prince of Angola_, by one J. Ferriar, 'a tragedy
+altered from the play of _Oroonoko_ and adapted to the circumstances of
+the present times.'[4] (Manchester, 1788.) It must be confessed that all
+this tinkering with an original, which does not require from any point
+of view the slightest alteration or omission, is most uncalled for,
+crude, and unsuccessful.
+
+In 1698 William Walker, a lad nineteen years old, the son of a wealthy
+Barbadoes planter, wrote in three weeks a tragedy entitled _Victorious
+Love_ (4to, 1698), which is confessedly a close imitation of Southerne's
+theme. It was produced at Drury Lane in June, 1698, with the author
+himself as Dafila, a youth, and young Mrs. Cross as the heroine Zaraida,
+'an European Shipwrack'd an Infant at Gualata'. Possibly Verbruggen
+acted Barnagasso, the captive king who corresponds to Oroonoko. The
+scene is laid in the Banze, or Palace of Tombut, whose Emperor, Jamoan,
+is Barnagasso's rival in Zaraida's love. There is a villain, Zanhaga,
+who after various more or less successful iniquities, poisons the
+Emperor; whereon hero and heroine are happily united. _Victorious Love_
+is far from being entirely a bad play; it is, however, very reminiscent
+of the heroic tragedies of two decades before.
+
+Southerne's _Oroonoko_ was (with some alterations) translated into
+German. This version is prose and probably either the work of W. H. von
+Dalberg or von Eisenthal. It has little merit, but proved popular and
+was printed in 1789 with a somewhat grotesque frontispiece of Oroonoko
+and Imoinda, both of whom are black 'as pitch or as the cole'.
+
+    [Footnote 1: There were also many chap-books on similar themes
+    which enjoyed no small popularity, e.g., _The Royal African; or,
+    The Memoirs of the Young Prince of Annamaboe_ (circa 1750), the
+    romantic narrative of a negro prince, who became a slave in
+    Barbadoes, from whence he was redeemed and brought to England.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: Mis-spelt 'Griffiths' in the 1800 edition.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: There was 'a superior edition on a fine wove paper,
+    Hot-pressed, with Proof Impressions of the Plates. Price only
+    Nine-pence.']
+
+    [Footnote 4: The Agitation for the Abolition of the Slave Trade.]
+
+
+
+
+  Epistle Dedicatory.
+
+  TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD MAITLAND.
+
+  [Transcriber's Note:
+  The Epistle Dedicatory was printed as an Appendix; see Note.]
+
+
+  My Lord,
+
+Since the World is grown so Nice and Critical upon Dedications, and will
+Needs be Judging the Book by the Wit of the Patron; we ought, with a
+great deal of Circumspection to chuse a Person against whom there can be
+no Exception; and whose Wit and Worth truly Merits all that one is
+capable of saying upon that Occasion.
+
+The most part of Dedications are charg'd with Flattery; and if the World
+knows a Man has some Vices, they will not allow one to speak of his
+Virtues. This, My Lord, is for want of thinking Rightly; if Men wou'd
+consider with Reason, they wou'd have another sort of Opinion, and
+Esteem of Dedications; and wou'd believe almost every Great Man has
+enough to make him Worthy of all that can be said of him there. My Lord,
+a Picture-drawer, when he intends to make a good Picture, essays the
+Face many Ways, and in many Lights, before he begins; that he may chuse
+from the several turns of it, which is most Agreeable and gives it the
+best Grace; and if there be a Scar, an ungrateful Mole, or any little
+Defect, they leave it out; and yet make the Picture extreamly like: But
+he who has the good Fortune to draw a Face that is exactly Charming in
+all its Parts and Features, what Colours or Agreements can be added to
+make it Finer? All that he can give is but its due; and Glories in a
+Piece whose Original alone gives it its Perfection. An ill Hand may
+diminish, but a good Hand cannot augment its Beauty. A Poet is a Painter
+in his way; he draws to the Life, but in another kind; we draw the
+Nobler part, the Soul and Mind; the Pictures of the Pen shall out-last
+those of the Pencil, and even Worlds themselves. 'Tis a short Chronicle
+of those Lives that possibly wou'd be forgotten by other Historians, or
+lye neglected there, however deserving an immortal Fame; for Men of
+eminent Parts are as Exemplary as even Monarchs themselves; and Virtue
+is a noble Lesson to be learn'd, and 'tis by Comparison we can Judge and
+Chuse. 'Tis by such illustrious Presidents as your Lordship the World
+can be Better'd and Refin'd; when a great part of the lazy Nobility
+shall, with Shame, behold the admirable Accomplishments of a Man so
+Great, and so Young.
+
+Your Lordship has Read innumerable Volumes of Men and Books, not Vainly
+for the gust of Novelty, but Knowledge, excellent Knowledge: Like the
+industrious Bee, from every Flower you return Laden with the precious
+Dew, which you are sure to turn to the Publick Good. You hoard no one
+Reflection, but lay it all out in the Glorious Service of your Religion
+and Country; to both which you are a useful and necessary Honour: They
+both want such Supporters; and 'tis only Men of so elevated Parts, and
+fine Knowledge; such noble Principles of Loyalty and Religion this
+Nation Sighs for. Where shall we find a Man so Young, like St.
+Augustine, in the midst of all his Youth and Gaiety, Teaching the World
+Divine Precepts, true Notions of Faith, and Excellent Morality, and, at
+the same time be also a perfect Pattern of all that accomplish a Great
+Man? You have, My Lord, all that refin'd Wit that Charms, and the
+Affability that Obliges; a Generosity that gives a Lustre to your
+Nobility; that Hospitality, and Greatness of Mind that ingages the
+World; and that admirable Conduct, that so well Instructs it. Our Nation
+ought to regret and bemoan their Misfortunes, for not being able to
+claim the Honour of the Birth of a Man who is so fit to serve his
+Majesty, and his Kingdoms in all Great and Publick Affairs; And to the
+Glory of your Nation, be it spoken, it produces more considerable Men,
+for all fine Sence, Wit, Wisdom, Breeding and Generosity (for the
+generality of the Nobility) than all other Nations can Boast; and the
+Fruitfulness of your Virtues sufficiently make amends for the Barrenness
+of your Soil: Which however cannot be incommode to your Lordship; since
+your Quality and the Veneration that the Commonalty naturally pay their
+Lords creates a flowing Plenty there . . . that makes you Happy. And to
+compleat your Happiness, my Lord, Heaven has blest you with a Lady, to
+whom it has given all the Graces, Beauties, and Virtues of her Sex; all
+the Youth, Sweetness of Nature, of a most illustrious Family; and who is
+a most rare Example to all Wives of Quality, for her eminent Piety,
+Easiness, and Condescention; and as absolutely merits Respect from all
+the World as she does that Passion and Resignation she receives from
+your Lordship; and which is, on her part, with so much Tenderness
+return'd. Methinks your tranquil Lives are an Image of the new Made and
+Beautiful Pair in Paradise: And 'tis the Prayers and Wishes of all, who
+have the Honour to know you, that it may Eternally so continue with
+Additions of all the Blessings this World can give you.
+
+My Lord, the Obligations I have to some of the Great Men of your Nation,
+particularly to your Lordship, gives me an Ambition of making my
+Acknowledgements by all the Opportunities I can; and such humble Fruits
+as my Industry produces I lay at your Lordship's Feet. This is a true
+Story, of a Man Gallant enough to merit your Protection, and, had he
+always been so Fortunate, he had not made so Inglorious an end: The
+Royal Slave I had the Honour to know in my Travels to the other World;
+and though I had none above me in that Country yet I wanted power to
+preserve this Great Man. If there be anything that seems Romantick I
+beseech your Lordship to consider these Countries do, in all things, so
+far differ from ours that they produce unconceivable Wonders, at least,
+so they appear to us, because New and Strange. What I have mentioned I
+have taken care shou'd be Truth, let the Critical Reader judge as he
+pleases. 'Twill be no Commendation to the Book to assure your Lordship I
+writ it in a few Hours, though it may serve to Excuse some of its Faults
+of Connexion, for I never rested my Pen a Moment for Thought: 'Tis
+purely the Merit of my Slave that must render it worthy of the Honour it
+begs; and the Author of that of Subscribing herself,
+
+  My Lord
+    Your Lordship's most oblig'd
+      and obedient Servant
+        A. Behn.
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE _ROYAL SLAVE_.
+
+
+I do not pretend, in giving you the History of this _ROYAL SLAVE_, to
+entertain my Reader with the Adventures of a feign'd _Hero_, whose Life
+and Fortunes Fancy may manage at the Poet's Pleasure; nor in relating
+the Truth, design to adorn it with any Accidents, but such as arrived in
+earnest to him: And it shall come simply into the World, recommended by
+its own proper Merits, and natural Intrigues; there being enough of
+Reality to support it, and to render it diverting, without the Addition
+of Invention.
+
+I was myself an Eye-witness to a great Part of what you will find here
+set down; and what I could not be Witness of, I receiv'd from the Mouth
+of the chief Actor in this History, the _Hero_ himself, who gave us the
+whole Transactions of his Youth: And I shall omit, for Brevity's Sake,
+a thousand little Accidents of his Life, which, however pleasant to us,
+where History was scarce, and Adventures very rare, yet might prove
+tedious and heavy to my Reader, in a World where he finds Diversions for
+every Minute, new and strange. But we who were perfectly charm'd with
+the Character of this great Man, were curious to gather every
+Circumstance of his Life.
+
+The Scene of the last Part of his Adventures lies in a Colony in
+_America_, called _Surinam_, in the _West-Indies_.
+
+But before I give you the Story of this _Gallant Slave_, 'tis fit I tell
+you the Manner of bringing them to these new _Colonies_; those they make
+Use of there, not being _Natives_ of the Place: for those we live with
+in perfect Amity, without daring to command 'em; but, on the contrary,
+caress 'em with all the brotherly and friendly Affection in the World;
+trading with them for their Fish, Venison, Buffaloes Skins, and little
+Rarities; as _Marmosets_, a sort of Monkey, as big as a Rat or Weasel,
+but of a marvellous and delicate Shape, having Face and Hands like a
+Human Creature; and _Cousheries_, a little Beast in the Form and Fashion
+of a Lion, as big as a Kitten, but so exactly made in all Parts like
+that Noble Beast, that it is it in _Miniature_: Then for little
+_Paraketoes_, great _Parrots_, _Muckaws_, and a thousand other Birds and
+Beasts of wonderful and surprizing Forms, Shapes, and Colours: For Skins
+of prodigious Snakes, of which there are some three-score Yards in
+Length; as is the Skin of one that may be seen at his Majesty's
+_Antiquary's_; where are also some rare Flies, of amazing Forms and
+Colours, presented to 'em by myself; some as big as my Fist, some less;
+and all of various Excellencies, such as Art cannot imitate. Then we
+trade for Feathers, which they order into all Shapes, make themselves
+little short Habits of 'em, and glorious Wreaths for their Heads, Necks,
+Arms and Legs, whose Tinctures are unconceivable. I had a Set of these
+presented to me, and I gave 'em to the _King's Theatre_; it was the
+Dress of the _Indian Queen_, infinitely admir'd by Persons of Quality;
+and was inimitable. Besides these, a thousand little Knacks, and
+Rarities in Nature; and some of Art, as their Baskets, Weapons, Aprons,
+&c. We dealt with 'em with Beads of all Colours, Knives, Axes, Pins and
+Needles, which they us'd only as Tools to drill Holes with in their
+Ears, Noses and Lips, where they hang a great many little Things; as
+long Beads, Bits of Tin, Brass or Silver beat thin, and any shining
+Trinket. The Beads they weave into Aprons about a Quarter of an Ell
+long, and of the same Breadth; working them very prettily in Flowers of
+several Colours; which Apron they wear just before 'em, as _Adam_ and
+_Eve_ did the Fig-leaves; the Men wearing a long Stripe of Linen, which
+they deal with us for. They thread these Beads also on long
+Cotton-threads, and make Girdles to tie their Aprons to, which come
+twenty times, or more, about the Waste, and then cross, like a
+Shoulder-belt, both Ways, and round their Necks, Arms and Legs. This
+Adornment, with their long black Hair, and the Face painted in little
+Specks or Flowers here and there, makes 'em a wonderful Figure to
+behold. Some of the Beauties, which indeed are finely shap'd, as almost
+all are, and who have pretty Features, are charming and novel; for they
+have all that is called Beauty, except the Colour, which is a reddish
+Yellow; or after a new Oiling, which they often use to themselves, they
+are of the Colour of a new Brick, but smooth, soft and sleek. They are
+extreme modest and bashful, very shy, and nice of being touch'd. And
+tho' they are all thus naked, if one lives for ever among 'em, there is
+not to be seen an indecent Action, or Glance: and being continually us'd
+to see one another so unadorn'd, so like our first Parents before the
+Fall, it seems as if they had no Wishes, there being nothing to heighten
+Curiosity: but all you can see, you see at once, and every Moment see;
+and where there is no Novelty, there can be no Curiosity. Not but I have
+seen a handsome young _Indian_, dying for Love of a very beautiful young
+_Indian_ Maid; but all his Courtship was, to fold his Arms, pursue her
+with his Eyes, and Sighs were all his Language: While she, as if no such
+Lover were present, or rather as if she desired none such, carefully
+guarded her Eyes from beholding him; and never approach'd him, but she
+looked down with all the blushing Modesty I have seen in the most Severe
+and Cautious of our World. And these People represented to me an
+absolute _Idea_ of the first State of Innocence, before Man knew how to
+sin: And 'tis most evident and plain, that simple Nature is the most
+harmless, inoffensive and virtuous Mistress. 'Tis she alone, if she were
+permitted, that better instructs the World, than all the Inventions of
+Man: Religion would here but destroy that Tranquillity they possess by
+Ignorance; and Laws would but teach 'em to know Offences, of which now
+they have no Notion. They once made Mourning and Fasting for the Death
+of the _English_ Governor, who had given his Hand to come on such a Day
+to 'em, and neither came nor sent; believing, when a Man's Word was
+past, nothing but Death could or should prevent his keeping it: And when
+they saw he was not dead, they ask'd him what Name they had for a Man
+who promis'd a Thing he did not do? The Governor told them, Such a Man
+was a _Lyar_, which was a Word of Infamy to a Gentleman. Then one of 'em
+reply'd, _Governor, you are a Lyar, and guilty of that Infamy_. They
+have a native Justice, which knows no Fraud; and they understand no
+Vice, or Cunning, but when they are taught by the _White_ Men. They have
+Plurality of Wives; which, when they grow old, serve those that succeed
+'em, who are young, but with a Servitude easy and respected; and unless
+they take Slaves in War, they have no other Attendants.
+
+Those on that _Continent_ where I was, had no King; but the oldest
+War-Captain was obey'd with great Resignation.
+
+A War-Captain is a Man who has led them on to Battle with Conduct and
+Success; of whom I shall have Occasion to speak more hereafter, and of
+some other of their Customs and Manners, as they fall in my Way.
+
+With these People, as I said, we live in perfect Tranquillity, and good
+Understanding, as it behoves us to do; they knowing all the Places where
+to seek the best Food of the Country, and the Means of getting it; and
+for very small and unvaluable Trifles, supplying us with what 'tis
+almost impossible for us to get; for they do not only in the Woods, and
+over the _Sevana's_, in Hunting, supply the Parts of Hounds, by swiftly
+scouring thro' those almost impassable Places, and by the mere Activity
+of their Feet, run down the nimblest Deer, and other eatable Beasts; but
+in the Water, one would think they were Gods of the Rivers, or
+Fellow-Citizens of the Deep; so rare an Art they have in swimming,
+diving, and almost living in Water; by which they command the less swift
+Inhabitants of the Floods. And then for shooting, what they cannot take,
+or reach with their Hands, they do with Arrows; and have so admirable an
+Aim, that they will split almost an Hair, and at any Distance that an
+Arrow can reach: they will shoot down Oranges, and other Fruit, and only
+touch the Stalk with the Dart's Point, that they may not hurt the Fruit.
+So that they being on all Occasions very useful to us, we find it
+absolutely necessary to caress 'em as Friends, and not to treat 'em as
+Slaves; nor dare we do otherwise, their Numbers so far surpassing ours
+in that Continent.
+
+Those then whom we make use of to work in our Plantations of Sugar, are
+_Negroes_, Black-Slaves altogether, who are transported thither in this
+Manner.
+
+Those who want Slaves, make a Bargain with a Master, or a Captain of a
+Ship, and contract to pay him so much apiece, a Matter of twenty Pound a
+Head, for as many as he agrees for, and to pay for 'em when they shall
+be deliver'd on such a Plantation: So that when there arrives a Ship
+laden with Slaves, they who have so contracted, go aboard, and receive
+their Number by Lot; and perhaps in one Lot that may be for ten, there
+may happen to be three or four Men, the rest Women and Children. Or be
+there more or less of either Sex, you are obliged to be contented with
+your Lot.
+
+_Coramantien_, a Country of _Blacks_ so called, was one of those Places
+in which they found the most advantageous Trading for these Slaves, and
+thither most of our great Traders in that Merchandize traffick; for that
+Nation is very warlike and brave; and having a continual Campaign, being
+always in Hostility with one neighbouring Prince or other, they had the
+Fortune to take a great many Captives: for all they took in Battle were
+sold as Slaves; at least those common Men who could not ransom
+themselves. Of these Slaves so taken, the General only has all the
+Profit; and of these Generals our Captains and Masters of Ships buy all
+their Freights.
+
+The King of _Coramantien_ was of himself a Man of an hundred and odd
+Years old, and had no Son, tho' he had many beautiful Black Wives: for
+most certainly there are Beauties that can charm of that Colour. In his
+younger Years he had had many gallant Men to his Sons, thirteen of whom
+died in Battle, conquering when they fell; and he had only left him for
+his Successor, one Grand-child, Son to one of these dead Victors, who,
+as soon as he could bear a Bow in his Hand, and a Quiver at his Back,
+was sent into the Field, to be train'd up by one of the oldest Generals
+to War; where, from his natural Inclination to Arms, and the Occasions
+given him, with the good Conduct of the old General, he became, at the
+Age of seventeen, one of the most expert Captains, and bravest Soldiers
+that ever saw the Field of _Mars_: so that he was ador'd as the Wonder
+of all that World, and the Darling of the Soldiers. Besides, he was
+adorn'd with a native Beauty, so transcending all those of his gloomy
+Race, that he struck an Awe and Reverence, even into those that knew not
+his Quality; as he did into me, who beheld him with Surprize and Wonder,
+when afterwards he arrived in our World.
+
+He had scarce arrived at his seventeenth Year, when, fighting by his
+Side, the General was kill'd with an Arrow in his Eye, which the Prince
+_Oroonoko_ (for so was this gallant _Moor_ call'd) very narrowly
+avoided; nor had he, if the General who saw the Arrow shot, and
+perceiving it aimed at the Prince, had not bow'd his Head between, on
+Purpose to receive it in his own Body, rather than it should touch that
+of the Prince, and so saved him.
+
+'Twas then, afflicted as _Oroonoko_ was, that he was proclaimed General
+in the old Man's Place: and then it was, at the finishing of that War,
+which had continu'd for two Years, that the Prince came to Court, where
+he had hardly been a Month together, from the Time of his fifth Year to
+that of seventeen: and 'twas amazing to imagine where it was he learn'd
+so much Humanity; or to give his Accomplishments a juster Name, where
+'twas he got that real Greatness of Soul, those refined Notions of true
+Honour, that absolute Generosity, and that Softness, that was capable of
+the highest Passions of Love and Gallantry, whose Objects were almost
+continually fighting Men, or those mangled or dead, who heard no Sounds
+but those of War and Groans. Some Part of it we may attribute to the
+Care of a _Frenchman_ of Wit and Learning, who finding it turn to a very
+good Account to be a sort of Royal Tutor to this young Black, and
+perceiving him very ready, apt, and quick of Apprehension, took a great
+Pleasure to teach him Morals, Language and Science; and was for it
+extremely belov'd and valu'd by him. Another Reason was, he lov'd when
+he came from War, to see all the _English_ Gentlemen that traded
+thither; and did not only learn their Language, but that of the
+_Spaniard_ also, with whom he traded afterwards for Slaves.
+
+I have often seen and conversed with this Great Man, and been a Witness
+to many of his mighty Actions; and do assure my Reader, the most
+illustrious Courts could not have produced a braver Man, both for
+Greatness of Courage and Mind, a Judgment more solid, a Wit more quick,
+and a Conversation more sweet and diverting. He knew almost as much as
+if he had read much: He had heard of and admired the _Romans_: He had
+heard of the late Civil Wars in _England_, and the deplorable Death of
+our great Monarch; and would discourse of it with all the Sense and
+Abhorrence of the Injustice imaginable. He had an extreme good and
+graceful Mien, and all the Civility of a well-bred Great Man. He had
+nothing of Barbarity in his Nature, but in all Points address'd himself
+as if his Education had been in some _European_ Court.
+
+This great and just Character of _Oroonoko_ gave me an extreme Curiosity
+to see him, especially when I knew he spoke _French_ and _English_, and
+that I could talk with him. But tho' I had heard so much of him, I was
+as greatly surprized when I saw him, as if I had heard nothing of him;
+so beyond all Report I found him. He came into the Room, and addressed
+himself to me, and some other Women, with the best Grace in the World.
+He was pretty tall, but of a Shape the most exact that can be fancy'd:
+The most famous Statuary could not form the Figure of a Man more
+admirably turn'd from Head to Foot. His Face was not of that brown rusty
+Black which most of that Nation are, but a perfect Ebony, or polished
+Jet. His Eyes were the most aweful that could be seen, and very
+piercing; the White of 'em being like Snow, as were his Teeth. His Nose
+was rising and _Roman_, instead of _African_ and flat: His Mouth the
+finest shaped that could be seen; far from those great turn'd Lips,
+which are so natural to the rest of the Negroes. The whole Proportion
+and Air of his Face was so nobly and exactly form'd, that bating his
+Colour, there could be nothing in Nature more beautiful, agreeable and
+handsome. There was no one Grace wanting, that bears the Standard of
+true Beauty. His Hair came down to his Shoulders, by the Aids of Art,
+which was by pulling it out with a Quill, and keeping it comb'd; of
+which he took particular Care. Nor did the Perfections of his Mind come
+short of those of his Person; for his Discourse was admirable upon
+almost any Subject: and whoever had heard him speak, would have been
+convinced of their Errors, that all fine Wit is confined to the white
+Men, especially to those of Christendom; and would have confess'd that
+_Oroonoko_ was as capable even of reigning well, and of governing as
+wisely, had as great a Soul, as politick Maxims, and was as sensible of
+Power, as any Prince civiliz'd in the most refined Schools of Humanity
+and Learning, or the most illustrious Courts.
+
+This Prince, such as I have describ'd him, whose Soul and Body were so
+admirably adorned, was (while yet he was in the Court of his
+Grandfather, as I said) as capable of Love, as 'twas possible for a
+brave and gallant Man to be; and in saying that, I have named the
+highest Degree of Love: for sure great Souls are most capable of that
+Passion.
+
+I have already said, the old General was kill'd by the Shot of an Arrow,
+by the Side of this Prince, in Battle; and that _Oroonoko_ was made
+General. This old dead Hero had one only Daughter left of his Race,
+a Beauty, that to describe her truly, one need say only, she was Female
+to the noble Male; the beautiful Black _Venus_ to our young _Mars_; as
+charming in her Person as he, and of delicate Virtues. I have seen a
+hundred White Men sighing after her, and making a thousand Vows at her
+Feet, all in vain and unsuccessful. And she was indeed too great for any
+but a Prince of her own Nation to adore.
+
+_Oroonoko_ coming from the Wars (which were now ended) after he had made
+his Court to his Grandfather, he thought in Honour he ought to make a
+Visit to _Imoinda_, the Daughter of his Foster-father, the dead General;
+and to make some Excuses to her, because his Preservation was the
+Occasion of her Father's Death; and to present her with those Slaves
+that had been taken in this last Battle, as the Trophies of her Father's
+Victories. When he came, attended by all the young Soldiers of any
+Merit, he was infinitely surpriz'd at the Beauty of this fair Queen of
+Night, whose Face and Person were so exceeding all he had ever beheld,
+that lovely Modesty with which she receiv'd him, that Softness in her
+Look and Sighs, upon the melancholy Occasion of this Honour that was
+done by so great a Man as _Oroonoko_, and a Prince of whom she had heard
+such admirable Things; the Awfulness wherewith she receiv'd him, and the
+Sweetness of her Words and Behaviour while he stay'd, gain'd a perfect
+Conquest over his fierce Heart, and made him feel, the Victor could be
+subdu'd. So that having made his first Compliments, and presented her an
+hundred and fifty Slaves in Fetters, he told her with his Eyes, that he
+was not insensible of her Charms; while _Imoinda_, who wish'd for
+nothing more than so glorious a Conquest, was pleas'd to believe, she
+understood that silent Language of new-born Love; and, from that Moment,
+put on all her Additions to Beauty.
+
+The Prince return'd to Court with quite another Humour than before; and
+tho' he did not speak much of the fair _Imoinda_, he had the Pleasure to
+hear all his Followers speak of nothing but the Charms of that Maid,
+insomuch, that, even in the Presence of the old King, they were
+extolling her, and heightning, if possible, the Beauties they had found
+in her: so that nothing else was talk'd of, no other Sound was heard in
+every Corner where there were Whisperers, but _Imoinda! Imoinda!_
+
+'Twill be imagin'd _Oroonoko_ stay'd not long before he made his second
+Visit; nor, considering his Quality, not much longer before he told her,
+he ador'd her. I have often heard him say, that he admir'd by what
+strange Inspiration he came to talk Things so soft, and so passionate,
+who never knew Love, nor was us'd to the Conversation of Women; but
+(to use his own Words) he said, 'Most happily, some new, and, till then,
+unknown Power instructed his Heart and Tongue in the Language of Love;
+and at the same Time, in Favour of him, inspir'd _Imoinda_ with a Sense
+of his Passion.' She was touch'd with what he said, and return'd it all
+in such Answers as went to his very Heart, with a Pleasure unknown
+before. Nor did he use those Obligations ill, that Love had done him,
+but turn'd all his happy Moments to the best Advantage; and as he knew
+no Vice, his Flame aim'd at nothing but Honour, if such a Distinction
+may be made in Love; and especially in that Country, where Men take to
+themselves as many as they can maintain; and where the only Crime and
+Sin against a Woman, is, to turn her off, to abandon her to Want, Shame
+and Misery: such ill Morals are only practis'd in _Christian_ Countries,
+where they prefer the bare Name of Religion; and, without Virtue or
+Morality, think that sufficient. But _Oroonoko_ was none of those
+Professors; but as he had right Notions of Honour, so he made her such
+Propositions as were not only and barely such; but, contrary to the
+Custom of his Country, he made her Vows, she should be the only Woman he
+would possess while he liv'd; that no Age or Wrinkles should incline him
+to change: for her Soul would be always fine, and always young; and he
+should have an eternal _Idea_ in his Mind of the Charms she now bore;
+and should look into his Heart for that _Idea_, when he could find it no
+longer in her Face.
+
+After a thousand Assurances of his lasting Flame, and her eternal Empire
+over him, she condescended to receive him for her Husband; or rather,
+receive him, as the greatest Honour the Gods could do her.
+
+There is a certain Ceremony in these Cases to be observ'd, which I
+forgot to ask how 'twas perform'd; but 'twas concluded on both Sides,
+that in Obedience to him, the Grandfather was to be first made
+acquainted with the Design: For they pay a most absolute Resignation to
+the Monarch, especially when he is a Parent also.
+
+On the other Side, the old King, who had many Wives, and many
+Concubines, wanted not Court-Flatterers to insinuate into his Heart a
+thousand tender Thoughts for this young Beauty; and who represented her
+to his Fancy, as the most charming he had ever possess'd in all the long
+Race of his numerous Years. At this Character, his old Heart, like an
+extinguish'd Brand, most apt to take Fire, felt new Sparks of Love, and
+began to kindle; and now grown to his second Childhood, long'd with
+Impatience to behold this gay Thing, with whom, alas! he could but
+innocently play. But how he should be confirm'd she was this _Wonder_,
+before he us'd his Power to call her to Court, (where Maidens never
+came, unless for the King's private Use) he was next to consider; and
+while he was so doing, he had Intelligence brought him, that _Imoinda_
+was most certainly Mistress to the Prince _Oroonoko_. This gave him some
+Chagrine: however, it gave him also an Opportunity, one Day, when the
+Prince was a hunting, to wait on a Man of Quality, as his Slave and
+Attendant, who should go and make a Present to _Imoinda_, as from the
+Prince; he should then, unknown, see this fair Maid, and have an
+Opportunity to hear what Message she would return the Prince for his
+Present, and from thence gather the State of her Heart, and Degree of
+her Inclination. This was put in Execution, and the old Monarch saw, and
+burn'd: He found her all he had heard, and would not delay his
+Happiness, but found he should have some Obstacle to overcome her Heart;
+for she express'd her Sense of the Present the Prince had sent her, in
+Terms so sweet, so soft and pretty, with an Air of Love and Joy that
+could not be dissembled, insomuch that 'twas past Doubt whether she
+lov'd _Oroonoko_ entirely. This gave the old King some Affliction; but
+he salv'd it with this, that the Obedience the People pay their King,
+was not at all inferior to what they paid their Gods; and what Love
+would not oblige _Imoinda_ to do, Duty would compel her to.
+
+He was therefore no sooner got into his Apartment, but he sent the Royal
+Veil to _Imoinda_; that is the Ceremony of Invitation: He sends the Lady
+he has a Mind to honour with his Bed, a Veil, with which she is covered,
+and secur'd for the King's Use; and 'tis Death to disobey; besides, held
+a most impious Disobedience.
+
+'Tis not to be imagin'd the Surprize and Grief that seiz'd the lovely
+Maid at this News and Sight. However, as Delays in these Cases are
+dangerous, and Pleading worse than Treason; trembling, and almost
+fainting, she was oblig'd to suffer herself to be cover'd, and led away.
+
+They brought her thus to Court; and the King, who had caus'd a very rich
+Bath to be prepar'd, was led into it, where he sat under a Canopy, in
+State, to receive this long'd-for Virgin; whom he having commanded to be
+brought to him, they (after disrobing her) led her to the Bath, and
+making fast the Doors, left her to descend. The King, without more
+Courtship, bad her throw off her Mantle, and come to his Arms. But
+_Imoinda_, all in Tears, threw herself on the Marble, on the Brink of
+the Bath, and besought him to hear her. She told him, as she was a Maid,
+how proud of the Divine Glory she should have been, of having it in her
+Power to oblige her King: but as by the Laws he could not, and from his
+Royal Goodness would not take from any Man his wedded Wife; so she
+believ'd she should be the occasion of making him commit a great Sin, if
+she did not reveal her State and Condition; and tell him she was
+another's, and could not be so happy to be his.
+
+The King, enrag'd at this Delay, hastily demanded the Name of the bold
+Man, that had married a Woman of her Degree, without his Consent.
+_Imoinda_ seeing his Eyes fierce, and his Hands tremble, (whether with
+Age or Anger, I know not, but she fancy'd the last) almost repented she
+had said so much, for now she fear'd the Storm would fall on the Prince;
+she therefore said a thousand Things to appease the raging of his Flame,
+and to prepare him to hear who it was with Calmness: but before she
+spoke, he imagin'd who she meant, but would not seem to do so, but
+commanded her to lay aside her Mantle, and suffer herself to receive his
+Caresses, or, by his Gods he swore, that happy Man whom she was going to
+name should die, tho' it was even _Oroonoko_ himself. _Therefore_
+(said he) _deny this Marriage, and swear thyself a Maid. That_ (reply'd
+_Imoinda_) _by all our Powers I do; for I am not yet known to my
+Husband. 'Tis enough_ (said the King) _'tis enough both to satisfy my
+Conscience and my Heart._ And rising from his Seat, he went and led her
+into the Bath; it being in vain for her to resist.
+
+In this Time, the Prince, who was return'd from Hunting, went to visit
+his _Imoinda_, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard she had
+receiv'd the Royal Veil. This rais'd him to a Storm; and in his Madness,
+they had much ado to save him from laying violent Hands on himself.
+Force first prevail'd, and then Reason: They urg'd all to him, that
+might oppose his Rage; but nothing weigh'd so greatly with him as the
+King's old Age, uncapable of injuring him with _Imoinda_. He would give
+Way to that Hope, because it pleas'd him most, and flatter'd best his
+Heart. Yet this serv'd not altogether to make him cease his different
+Passions, which sometimes rag'd within him, and soften'd into Showers.
+'Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him, his Grandfather was old,
+and could not that Way injure him, while he retain'd that awful Duty
+which the young Men are us'd there to pay to their grave Relations. He
+could not be convinc'd he had no Cause to sigh and mourn for the Loss of
+a Mistress, he could not with all his Strength and Courage retrieve, and
+he would often cry, 'Oh, my Friends! were she in wall'd Cities, or
+confin'd from me in Fortifications of the greatest Strength; did
+Inchantments or Monsters detain her from me; I would venture thro' any
+Hazard to free her; But here, in the Arms of a feeble old Man, my Youth,
+my violent Love, my Trade in Arms, and all my vast Desire of Glory,
+avail me nothing. _Imoinda_ is as irrecoverably lost to me, as if she
+were snatch'd by the cold Arms of Death: Oh! she is never to be
+retrieved. If I would wait tedious Years; till Fate should bow the old
+King to his Grave, even that would not leave me _Imoinda_ free; but
+still that Custom that makes it so vile a Crime for a Son to marry his
+Father's Wives or Mistresses, would hinder my Happiness; unless I would
+either ignobly set an ill Precedent to my Successors, or abandon my
+Country, and fly with her to some unknown World who never heard our
+Story.'
+
+But it was objected to him, That his Case was not the same: for
+_Imoinda_ being his lawful Wife by solemn Contract, 'twas he was the
+injur'd Man, and might, if he so pleas'd, take _Imoinda_ back, the
+Breach of the Law being on his Grandfather's Side; and that if he could
+circumvent him, and redeem her from the _Otan_, which is the Palace of
+the King's Women, a sort of _Seraglio_, it was both just and lawful for
+him so to do.
+
+This Reasoning had some Force upon him, and he should have been entirely
+comforted, but for the Thought that she was possess'd by his
+Grandfather. However, he lov'd her so well, that he was resolv'd to
+believe what most favour'd his Hope, and to endeavour to learn from
+_Imoinda's_ own Mouth, what only she could satisfy him in, whether she
+was robb'd of that Blessing which was only due to his Faith and Love.
+But as it was very hard to get a Sight of the Women, (for no Men ever
+enter'd into the _Otan_ but when the King went to entertain himself with
+some one of his Wives or Mistresses; and 'twas Death, at any other Time,
+for any other to go in) so he knew not how to contrive to get a Sight of
+her.
+
+While _Oroonoko_ felt all the Agonies of Love, and suffer'd under a
+Torment the most painful in the World, the old King was not exempted
+from his Share of Affliction. He was troubled, for having been forc'd,
+by an irresistible Passion, to rob his Son of a Treasure, he knew, could
+not but be extremely dear to him; since she was the most beautiful that
+ever had been seen, and had besides, all the Sweetness and Innocence of
+Youth and Modesty, with a Charm of Wit surpassing all. He found, that
+however she was forc'd to expose her lovely Person to his wither'd Arms,
+she could only sigh and weep there, and think of _Oroonoko_; and
+oftentimes could not forbear speaking of him, tho' her Life were, by
+Custom, forfeited by owning her Passion. But she spoke not of a Lover
+only, but of a Prince dear to him to whom she spoke; and of the Praises
+of a Man, who, 'till now, fill'd the old Man's Soul with Joy at every
+Recital of his Bravery, or even his Name. And 'twas this Dotage on our
+young Hero, that gave _Imoinda_ a thousand Privileges to speak of him
+without offending; and this Condescension in the old King, that made her
+take the Satisfaction of speaking of him so very often.
+
+Besides, he many times enquir'd how the Prince bore himself: And those
+of whom he ask'd, being entirely Slaves to the Merits and Virtues of the
+Prince, still answer'd what they thought conduc'd best to his Service;
+which was, to make the old King fancy that the Prince had no more
+Interest in _Imoinda_, and had resign'd her willingly to the Pleasure of
+the King; that he diverted himself with his Mathematicians, his
+Fortifications, his Officers, and his Hunting.
+
+This pleas'd the old Lover, who fail'd not to report these Things again
+to _Imoinda_, that she might, by the Example of her young Lover,
+withdraw her Heart, and rest better contented in his Arms. But, however
+she was forc'd to receive this unwelcome News, in all Appearance, with
+Unconcern and Content; her Heart was bursting within, and she was only
+happy when she could get alone, to vent her Griefs and Moans with Sighs
+and Tears.
+
+What Reports of the Prince's Conduct were made to the King, he thought
+good to justify, as far as possibly he could, by his Actions; and when
+he appear'd in the Presence of the King, he shew'd a Face not at all
+betraying his Heart: so that in a little Time, the old Man, being
+entirely convinc'd that he was no longer a Lover of _Imoinda_ he carry'd
+him with him in his Train to the _Otan_, often to banquet with his
+Mistresses. But as soon as he enter'd, one Day, into the Apartment of
+_Imoinda_, with the King, at the first Glance from her Eyes,
+notwithstanding all his determined Resolution, he was ready to sink in
+the Place where he stood; and had certainly done so, but for the Support
+of _Aboan_, a young Man who was next to him; which, with his Change of
+Countenance, had betray'd him, had the King chanc'd to look that Way.
+And I have observ'd, 'tis a very great Error in those who laugh when one
+says, _A +Negro+ can change Colour_: for I have seen 'em as frequently
+blush, and look pale, and that as visibly as ever I saw in the most
+beautiful _White_. And 'tis certain, that both these Changes were
+evident, this Day, in both these Lovers. And _Imoinda_, who saw with
+some Joy the Change in the Prince's Face, and found it in her own,
+strove to divert the King from beholding either, by a forc'd Caress,
+with which she met him; which was a new Wound in the Heart of the poor
+dying Prince. But as soon as the King was busy'd in looking on some fine
+Thing of _Imoinda's_ making, she had Time to tell the Prince, with her
+angry, but Love-darting Eyes, that she resented his Coldness, and
+bemoan'd her own miserable Captivity. Nor were his Eyes silent, but
+answer'd her's again, as much as Eyes could do, instructed by the most
+tender and most passionate Heart that ever lov'd: And they spoke so
+well, and so effectually, as _Imoinda_ no longer doubted but she was the
+only Delight and Darling of that Soul she found pleading in 'em its
+Right of Love, which none was more willing to resign than she. And 'twas
+this powerful Language alone that in an Instant convey'd all the
+Thoughts of their Souls to each other; that they both found there wanted
+but Opportunity to make them both entirely happy. But when he saw
+another Door open'd by _Onahal_ (a former old Wife of the King's, who
+now had Charge of _Imoinda_) and saw the Prospect of a Bed of State made
+ready, with Sweets and Flowers for the Dalliance of the King, who
+immediately led the trembling Victim from his Sight, into that prepar'd
+Repose; what Rage! what wild Frenzies seiz'd his Heart! which forcing to
+keep within Bounds, and to suffer without Noise, it became the more
+insupportable, and rent his Soul with ten thousand Pains. He was forc'd
+to retire to vent his Groans, where he fell down on a Carpet, and lay
+struggling a long Time, and only breathing now and then--Oh _Imoinda_!
+When _Onahal_ had finished her necessary Affair within, shutting the
+Door, she came forth, to wait till the King called; and hearing some one
+sighing in the other Room, she pass'd on, and found the Prince in that
+deplorable Condition, which she thought needed her Aid. She gave him
+Cordials, but all in vain; till finding the Nature of his Disease, by
+his Sighs, and naming _Imoinda_, she told him he had not so much Cause
+as he imagined to afflict himself: for if he knew the King so well as
+she did, he would not lose a Moment in Jealousy; and that she was
+confident that _Imoinda_ bore, at this Minute, Part in his Affliction.
+_Aboan_ was of the same Opinion, and both together persuaded him to
+re-assume his Courage; and all sitting down on the Carpet, the Prince
+said so many obliging Things to _Onahal_, that he half-persuaded her to
+be of his Party: and she promised him, she would thus far comply with
+his just Desires, that she would let _Imoinda_ know how faithful he was,
+what he suffer'd, and what he said.
+
+This Discourse lasted till the King called, which gave _Oroonoko_ a
+certain Satisfaction; and with the Hope _Onahal_ had made him conceive,
+he assumed a Look as gay as 'twas possible a Man in his Circumstances
+could do: and presently after, he was call'd in with the rest who waited
+without. The King commanded Musick to be brought, and several of his
+young Wives and Mistresses came all together by his Command, to dance
+before him; where _Imoinda_ perform'd her Part with an Air and Grace so
+surpassing all the rest, as her Beauty was above 'em, and received the
+Present ordained as a Prize. The Prince was every Moment more charmed
+with the new Beauties and Graces he beheld in this Fair-One; and while
+he gazed, and she danc'd, _Onahal_ was retired to a Window with _Aboan_.
+
+This _Onahal_, as I said, was one of the Cast-Mistresses of the old
+King; and 'twas these (now past their Beauty) that were made Guardians
+or Governantees to the new and the young ones, and whose Business it was
+to teach them all those wanton Arts of Love, with which they prevail'd
+and charm'd heretofore in their Turn; and who now treated the triumphing
+Happy-ones with all the Severity, as to Liberty and Freedom, that was
+possible, in Revenge of the Honours they rob them of; envying them those
+Satisfactions, those Gallantries and Presents, that were once made to
+themselves, while Youth and Beauty lasted, and which they now saw pass,
+as it were regardless by, and paid only to the Bloomings. And certainly,
+nothing is more afflicting to a decay'd Beauty, than to behold in itself
+declining Charms, that were once ador'd; and to find those Caresses paid
+to new Beauties, to which once she laid Claim; to hear them whisper, as
+she passes by, that once was a delicate Woman. Those abandon'd ladies
+therefore endeavour to revenge all the Despights and Decays of Time, on
+these flourishing Happy-ones. And 'twas this Severity that gave
+_Oroonoko_ a thousand Fears he should never prevail with _Onahal_ to see
+_Imoinda_. But, as I said, she was now retir'd to a Window with _Aboan_.
+
+This young Man was not only one of the best Quality, but a Man extremely
+well made, and beautiful; and coming often to attend the King to the
+_Otan_, he had subdu'd the Heart of the antiquated _Onahal_, which had
+not forgot how pleasant it was to be in love. And tho' she had some
+Decays in her Face, she had none in her Sense and Wit; she was there
+agreeable still, even to _Aboan's_ Youth: so that he took Pleasure in
+entertaining her with Discourses of Love. He knew also, that to make his
+Court to these She-favourites, was the Way to be great; these being the
+Persons that do all Affairs and Business at Court. He had also observed,
+that she had given him Glances more tender and inviting than she had
+done to others of his Quality. And now, when he saw that her Favour
+could so absolutely oblige the Prince, he fail'd not to sigh in her Ear,
+and look with Eyes all soft upon her, and gave her Hope that she had
+made some Impressions on his Heart. He found her pleas'd at this, and
+making a thousand Advances to him: but the Ceremony ending, and the King
+departing, broke up the Company for that Day, and his Conversation.
+
+_Aboan_ fail'd not that Night to tell the Prince of his Success, and how
+advantageous the Service of _Onahal_ might be to his Amour with
+_Imoinda_. The Prince was overjoy'd with this good News, and besought
+him, if it were possible, to caress her so, as to engage her entirely,
+which he could not fail to do, if he comply'd with her Desires: _For
+then_ (said the Prince) _her Life lying at your Mercy, she must grant
+you the Request you make in my Behalf_. _Aboan_ understood him, and
+assur'd him he would make Love so effectually, that he would defy the
+most expert Mistress of the Art, to find out whether he dissembled it,
+or had it really. And 'twas with Impatience they waited the next
+Opportunity of going to the _Otan_.
+
+The Wars came on, the Time of taking the Field approached; and 'twas
+impossible for the Prince to delay his going at the Head of his Army to
+encounter the Enemy; so that every Day seem'd a tedious Year, till he
+saw his _Imoinda_: for he believed he could not live, if he were forced
+away without being so happy. 'Twas with Impatience therefore that he
+expected the next Visit the King would make; and, according to his Wish,
+it was not long.
+
+The Parley of the Eyes of these two Lovers had not pass'd so secretly,
+but an old jealous Lover could spy it; or rather, he wanted not
+Flatterers who told him they observ'd it: so that the Prince was
+hasten'd to the Camp, and this was the last Visit he found he should
+make to the _Otan_; he therefore urged _Aboan_ to make the best of this
+last Effort, and to explain himself so to _Onahal_, that she deferring
+her Enjoyment of her young Lover no longer, might make Way for the
+Prince to speak to _Imoinda_.
+
+The whole Affair being agreed on between the Prince and _Aboan_, they
+attended the King, as the Custom was, to the _Otan_; where, while the
+whole Company was taken up in beholding the Dancing, and Antick Postures
+the Women-Royal made to divert the King, _Onahal_ singled out _Aboan_,
+whom she found most pliable to her Wish. When she had him where she
+believed she could not be heard, she sigh'd to him, and softly cry'd,
+'Ah, _Aboan!_ when will you be sensible of my Passion? I confess it with
+my Mouth, because I would not give my Eyes the Lye; and you have but too
+much already perceived they have confess'd my Flame: nor would I have
+you believe, that because I am the abandon'd Mistress of a King,
+I esteem myself altogether divested of Charms: No, _Aboan_; I have still
+a Rest of Beauty enough engaging, and have learn'd to please too well,
+not to be desirable. I can have Lovers still, but will have none but
+_Aboan_. Madam, (_reply'd the half-feigning Youth_) you have already, by
+my Eyes, found you can still conquer; and I believe 'tis in pity of me
+you condescend to this kind Confession. But, Madam, Words are used to be
+so small a Part of our Country-Courtship, that 'tis rare one can get so
+happy an Opportunity as to tell one's Heart; and those few Minutes we
+have, are forced to be snatch'd for more certain Proofs of Love than
+speaking and sighing: and such I languish for.'
+
+He spoke this with such a Tone, that she hoped it true, and could not
+forbear believing it; and being wholly transported with Joy for having
+subdued the finest of all the King's Subjects to her Desires, she took
+from her Ears two large Pearls, and commanded him to wear 'em in his. He
+would have refused 'em, crying, _Madam these are not the Proofs of our
+Love that I expect; 'tis Opportunity, 'tis a Lone-Hour only, that can
+make me happy._ But forcing the Pearls into his Hand, she whisper'd
+softly to him; _Oh! do not fear a Woman's Invention, when Love sets her
+a thinking._ And pressing his Hand, she cry'd, _This Night you shall be
+happy. Come to the Gate of the Orange-Grove, behind the +Otan+, and I
+will be ready about midnight to receive you._ 'Twas thus agreed, and she
+left him, that no Notice might be taken of their speaking together.
+
+The Ladies were still dancing, and the King, laid on a Carpet, with a
+great deal of Pleasure was beholding them, especially _Imoinda_, who
+that Day appeared more lovely than ever, being enlivened with the good
+Tidings _Onahal_ had brought her, of the constant Passion the Prince had
+for her. The Prince was laid on another Carpet at the other End of the
+Room, with his Eyes fixed on the Object of his Soul; and as she turned
+or moved, so did they; and she alone gave his Eyes and Soul their
+Motions. Nor did _Imoinda_ employ her Eyes to any other use, than in
+beholding with infinite Pleasure the Joy she produced in those of the
+Prince. But while she was more regarding him than the Steps she took,
+she chanced to fall, and so near him, as that leaping with extreme Force
+from the Carpet, he caught her in his Arms as she fell; and 'twas
+visible to the whole Presence, the Joy wherewith he received her. He
+clasped her close to his Bosom, and quite forgot that Reverence that was
+due to the Mistress of a King, and that Punishment that is the Reward of
+a Boldness of this Nature. And had not the Presence of Mind of _Imoinda_
+(fonder of his Safety than her own) befriended him, in making her spring
+from his Arms, and fall into her Dance again, he had at that Instant met
+his Death; for the old King, jealous to the last Degree, rose up in
+Rage, broke all the Diversion, and led _Imoinda_ to her Apartment, and
+sent out Word to the Prince, to go immediately to the Camp; and that if
+he were found another Night in Court, he should suffer the Death
+ordained for disobedient Offenders.
+
+You may imagine how welcome this News was to _Oroonoko_, whose
+unseasonable Transport and Caress of _Imoinda_ was blamed by all Men
+that loved him: and now he perceived his Fault, yet cry'd, _That for
+such another Moment he would be content to die_.
+
+All the _Otan_ was in Disorder about this Accident; and _Onahal_ was
+particularly concern'd, because on the Prince's Stay depended her
+Happiness; for she could no longer expect that of _Aboan_: So that e'er
+they departed, they contrived it so, that the Prince and he should both
+come that Night to the Grove of the _Otan_, which was all of Oranges and
+Citrons, and that there they would wait her Orders.
+
+They parted thus with Grief enough 'till Night, leaving the King in
+Possession of the lovely Maid. But nothing could appease the Jealousy of
+the old Lover; he would not be imposed on, but would have it, that
+_Imoinda_ made a false Step on Purpose to fall into _Oroonoko's_ Bosom,
+and that all things looked like a Design on both Sides; and 'twas in
+vain she protested her Innocence: He was old and obstinate, and left
+her, more than half assur'd that his Fear was true.
+
+The King going to his Apartment, sent to know where the Prince was, and
+if he intended to obey his Command. The Messenger return'd, and told
+him, he found the Prince pensive, and altogether unprepar'd for the
+Campaign; that he lay negligently on the Ground, and answer'd very
+little. This confirmed the Jealousy of the King, and he commanded that
+they should very narrowly and privately watch his Motions; and that he
+should not stir from his Apartment, but one Spy or other should be
+employ'd to watch him: So that the Hour approaching, wherein he was to
+go to the Citron-Grove; and taking only _Aboan_ along with him, he
+leaves his Apartment, and was watched to the very Gate of the _Otan_;
+where he was seen to enter, and where they left him, to carry back the
+Tidings to the King.
+
+_Oroonoko_ and _Aboan_ were no sooner enter'd, but _Onahal_ led the
+Prince to the Apartment of _Imoinda_; who, not knowing any thing of her
+Happiness, was laid in Bed. But _Onahal_ only left him in her Chamber,
+to make the best of his Opportunity, and took her dear _Aboan_ to her
+own; where he shewed the Height of Complaisance for his Prince, when, to
+give him an Opportunity, he suffered himself to be caressed in Bed by
+_Onahal_.
+
+The Prince softly waken'd _Imoinda_, who was not a little surpriz'd with
+Joy to find him there; and yet she trembled with a thousand Fears.
+I believe he omitted saying nothing to this young Maid, that might
+persuade her to suffer him to seize his own, and take the Rights of
+Love. And I believe she was not long resisting those Arms where she so
+longed to be; and having Opportunity, Night, and Silence, Youth, Love,
+and Desire, he soon prevail'd, and ravished in a Moment what his old
+Grandfather had been endeavouring for so many Months.
+
+'Tis not to be imagined the Satisfaction of these two young Lovers; nor
+the Vows she made him, that she remained a spotless Maid till that
+Night, and that what she did with his Grandfather had robb'd him of no
+Part of her Virgin-Honour; the Gods, in Mercy and Justice, having
+reserved that for her plighted Lord, to whom of Right it belonged. And
+'tis impossible to express the Transports he suffer'd, while he listen'd
+to a Discourse so charming from her loved Lips; and clasped that Body in
+his Arms, for whom he had so long languished; and nothing now afflicted
+him, but his sudden Departure from her; for he told her the Necessity,
+and his Commands, but should depart satisfy'd in this, That since the
+old King had hitherto not been able to deprive him of those Enjoyments
+which only belonged to him, he believed for the future he would be less
+able to injure him; so that, abating the Scandal of the Veil, which was
+no otherwise so, than that she was Wife to another, he believed her
+safe, even in the Arms of the King, and innocent; yet would he have
+ventur'd at the Conquest of the World, and have given it all to have had
+her avoided that Honour of receiving the _Royal Veil_. 'Twas thus,
+between a thousand Caresses, that both bemoan'd the hard Fate of Youth
+and Beauty, so liable to that cruel Promotion: 'Twas a Glory that could
+well have been spared here, tho' desired and aim'd at by all the young
+Females of that Kingdom.
+
+But while they were thus fondly employ'd, forgetting how Time ran on,
+and that the Dawn must conduct him far away from his only Happiness,
+they heard a great Noise in the _Otan_, and unusual Voices of Men; at
+which the Prince, starting from the Arms of the frighted _Imoinda_, ran
+to a little Battle-Ax he used to wear by his Side; and having not so
+much Leisure as to put on his Habit, he opposed himself against some who
+were already opening the Door: which they did with so much Violence,
+that _Oroonoko_ was not able to defend it; but was forced to cry out
+with a commanding Voice, 'Whoever ye are that have the Boldness to
+attempt to approach this Apartment thus rudely; know, that I, the Prince
+_Oroonoko_, will revenge it with the certain Death of him that first
+enters: Therefore stand back, and know, this Place is sacred to Love and
+Me this Night; To-morrow 'tis the King's.'
+
+This he spoke with a Voice so resolv'd and assur'd, that they soon
+retired from the Door; but cry'd, ''Tis by the King's Command we are
+come; and being satisfy'd by thy Voice, O Prince, as much as if we had
+enter'd, we can report to the King the Truth of all his Fears, and leave
+thee to provide for thy own Safety, as thou art advis'd by thy Friends.'
+
+At these Words they departed, and left the Prince to take a short and
+sad Leave of his _Imoinda_; who, trusting in the Strength of her Charms,
+believed she should appease the Fury of a jealous King, by saying, she
+was surprized, and that it was by Force of Arms he got into her
+Apartment. All her Concern now was for his Life, and therefore she
+hasten'd him to the Camp, and with much ado prevail'd on him to go. Nor
+was it she alone that prevail'd; _Aboan_ and _Onahal_ both pleaded, and
+both assured him of a Lye that should be well enough contrived to secure
+_Imoinda_. So that at last, with a Heart sad as Death, dying Eyes, and
+sighing Soul, _Oroonoko_ departed, and took his way to the Camp.
+
+It was not long after, the King in Person came to the _Otan_; where
+beholding _Imoinda_, with Rage in his Eyes, he upbraided her Wickedness,
+and Perfidy; and threatning her Royal Lover, she fell on her Face at his
+Feet, bedewing the Floor with her Tears, and imploring his Pardon for a
+Fault which she had not with her Will committed; as _Onahal_, who was
+also prostrate with her, could testify: That, unknown to her, he had
+broke into her Apartment, and ravished her. She spoke this much against
+her Conscience; but to save her own Life, 'twas absolutely necessary she
+should feign this Falsity. She knew it could not injure the Prince, he
+being fled to an Army that would stand by him, against any Injuries that
+should assault him. However, this last Thought of _Imoinda's_ being
+ravished, changed the Measures of his Revenge; and whereas before he
+designed to be himself her Executioner, he now resolved she should not
+die. But as it is the greatest Crime in Nature amongst them, to touch a
+Woman after having been possess'd by a Son, a Father, or a Brother, so
+now he looked on _Imoinda_ as a polluted thing wholly unfit for his
+Embrace; nor would he resign her to his Grandson, because she had
+received the _Royal Veil_: He therefore removes her from the _Otan_,
+with _Onahal_; whom he put into safe Hands, with Order they should be
+both sold off as Slaves to another Country, either _Christian_ or
+_Heathen_, 'twas no Matter where.
+
+This cruel Sentence, worse than Death, they implor'd might be reversed;
+but their Prayers were vain, and it was put in Execution accordingly,
+and that with so much Secrecy, that none, either without or within the
+_Otan_, knew any thing of their Absence, or their Destiny.
+
+The old King nevertheless executed this with a great deal of Reluctancy;
+but he believed he had made a very great Conquest over himself, when he
+had once resolved, and had perform'd what he resolved. He believed now,
+that his Love had been unjust; and that he could not expect the Gods, or
+_Captain of the Clouds_ (as they call the unknown Power) would suffer a
+better Consequence from so ill a Cause. He now begins to hold _Oroonoko_
+excused; and to say, he had reason for what he did. And now every body
+could assure the King how passionately _Imoinda_ was beloved by the
+Prince; even those confess'd it now, who said the contrary before his
+Flame was not abated. So that the King being old, and not able to defend
+himself in War, and having no Sons of all his Race remaining alive, but
+only this, to maintain him on his Throne; and looking on this as a man
+disobliged, first by the Rape of his Mistress, or rather Wife, and now
+by depriving him wholly of her, he fear'd, might make him desperate, and
+do some cruel thing, either to himself or his old Grandfather the
+Offender, he began to repent him extremely of the Contempt he had, in
+his Rage, put on _Imoinda_. Besides, he consider'd he ought in Honour to
+have killed her for this Offence, if it had been one. He ought to have
+had so much Value and Consideration for a Maid of her Quality, as to
+have nobly put her to Death, and not to have sold her like a common
+Slave; the greatest Revenge, and the most disgraceful of any, and to
+which they a thousand times prefer Death, and implore it; as _Imoinda_
+did, but could not obtain that Honour. Seeing therefore it was certain
+that _Oroonoko_ would highly resent this Affront, he thought good to
+make some Excuse for his Rashness to him; and to that End, he sent a
+Messenger to the Camp, with Orders to treat with him about the Matter,
+to gain his Pardon, and endeavour to mitigate his Grief: but that by no
+Means he should tell him she was sold, but secretly put to Death; for he
+knew he should never obtain his Pardon for the other.
+
+When the Messenger came, he found the Prince upon the Point of engaging
+with the Enemy; but as soon as he heard of the Arrival of the Messenger,
+he commanded him to his Tent, where he embraced him, and received him
+with Joy; which was soon abated by the down-cast Looks of the Messenger,
+who was instantly demanded the Cause by _Oroonoko_; who, impatient of
+Delay, ask'd a thousand Questions in a Breath, and all concerning
+_Imoinda_. But there needed little Return; for he could almost answer
+himself of all he demanded, from his Sight and Eyes. At last the
+Messenger casting himself at the Prince's Feet, and kissing them with
+all the Submission of a Man that had something to implore which he
+dreaded to utter, besought him to hear with Calmness what he had to
+deliver to him, and to call up all his noble and heroick Courage, to
+encounter with his Words, and defend himself against the ungrateful
+Things he had to relate. _Oroonoko_ reply'd, with a deep Sigh, and a
+languishing Voice,--_I am armed against their worst Efforts--For I know
+they will tell me, +Imoinda+ is no more--And after that, you may spare
+the rest._ Then, commanding him to rise, he laid himself on a Carpet,
+under a rich Pavilion, and remained a good while silent, and was hardly
+heard to sigh. When he was come a little to himself, the Messenger asked
+him Leave to deliver that Part of his Embassy which the Prince had not
+yet divin'd: And the Prince cry'd, _I permit thee_--Then he told him the
+Affliction the old King was in, for the Rashness he had committed in his
+Cruelty to _Imoinda_; and how he deign'd to ask Pardon for his Offence,
+and to implore the Prince would not suffer that Loss to touch his Heart
+too sensibly, which now all the Gods could not restore him, but might
+recompense him in Glory, which he begged he would pursue; and that
+Death, that common Revenger of all Injuries, would soon even the Account
+between him and a feeble old Man.
+
+_Oroonoko_ bad him return his Duty to his Lord and Master; and to assure
+him, there was no Account of Revenge to be adjudged between them; If
+there was, he was the Aggressor, and that Death would be just, and,
+maugre his Age, would see him righted; and he was contented to leave his
+Share of Glory to Youths more fortunate and worthy of that Favour from
+the Gods: That henceforth he would never lift a Weapon, or draw a Bow,
+but abandon the small Remains of his Life to Sighs and Tears, and the
+continual Thoughts of what his Lord and Grandfather had thought good to
+send out of the World, with all that Youth, that Innocence and Beauty.
+
+After having spoken this, whatever his greatest Officers and Men of the
+best Rank could do, they could not raise him from the Carpet, or
+persuade him to Action, and Resolutions of Life; but commanding all to
+retire, he shut himself into his Pavilion all that Day, while the Enemy
+was ready to engage: and wondring at the Delay, the whole Body of the
+chief of the Army then address'd themselves to him, and to whom they had
+much ado to get Admittance. They fell on their Faces at the Foot of his
+Carpet, where they lay, and besought him with earnest Prayers and Tears
+to lead them forth to Battle, and not let the Enemy take Advantages of
+them; and implored him to have Regard to his Glory, and to the World,
+that depended on his Courage and Conduct. But he made no other Reply to
+all their Supplications than this, That he had now no more Business for
+Glory; and for the World, it was a Trifle not worth his Care: _Go_,
+(continued he, sighing) _and divide it amongst you, and reap with Joy
+what you so vainly prize, and leave me to my more welcome Destiny._
+
+They then demanded what they should do, and whom he would constitute in
+his Room, that the Confusion of ambitious Youth and Power might not ruin
+their Order, and make them a Prey to the Enemy. He reply'd, he would not
+give himself that Trouble--but wished 'em to chuse the bravest Man
+amongst 'em, let his Quality or Birth be what it would: 'For, Oh my
+Friends! (says he) it is not Titles make Men Brave or Good; or Birth
+that bestows Courage and Generosity, or makes the Owner Happy. Believe
+this, when you behold _Oroonoko_ the most wretched, and abandoned by
+Fortune, of all the Creation of the Gods.' So turning himself about, he
+would make no more Reply to all they could urge or implore.
+
+The Army beholding their Officers return unsuccessful, with sad Faces
+and ominous Looks, that presaged no good Luck, suffer'd a thousand Fears
+to take Possession of their Hearts, and the Enemy to come even upon them
+before they could provide for their Safety by any Defence: and tho' they
+were assured by some who had a Mind to animate them, that they should be
+immediately headed by the Prince; and that in the mean time _Aboan_ had
+Orders to command as General; yet they were so dismay'd for want of that
+great Example of Bravery, that they could make but a very feeble
+Resistance; and, at last, down-right fled before the Enemy, who pursued
+'em to the very Tents, killing 'em: Nor could all _Aboan's_ Courage,
+which that Day gained him immortal Glory, shame 'em into a manly Defence
+of themselves. The Guards that were left behind about the Prince's Tent,
+seeing the Soldiers flee before the Enemy, and scatter themselves all
+over the Plain, in great Disorder, made such Out-cries, as rouz'd the
+Prince from his amorous Slumber, in which he had remained buried for two
+Days, without permitting any Sustenance to approach him. But, in Spite
+of all his Resolutions, he had not the Constancy of Grief to that
+Degree, as to make him insensible of the Danger of his Army; and in that
+Instant he leaped from his Couch, and cry'd--'Come, if we must die, let
+us meet Death the noblest Way; and 'twill be more like _Oroonoko_ to
+encounter him at an Army's Head, opposing the Torrent of a conquering
+Foe, than lazily on a Couch, to wait his lingering Pleasure, and die
+every Moment by a thousand racking Thoughts; or be tamely taken by an
+Enemy, and led a whining, love-sick Slave to adorn the Triumphs of
+_Jamoan_, that young Victor, who already is enter'd beyond the Limits I
+have prescrib'd him.'
+
+While he was speaking, he suffer'd his People to dress him for the
+Field; and sallying out of his Pavilion, with more Life and Vigour in
+his Countenance than ever he shew'd, he appear'd like some Divine Power
+descended to save his Country from Destruction: And his People had
+purposely put him on all Things that might make him shine with most
+Splendor, to strike a reverend Awe into the Beholders. He flew into the
+thickest of those that were pursuing his Men; and being animated with
+Despair, he fought as if he came on Purpose to die, and did such Things
+as will not be believed that human Strength could perform; and such, as
+soon inspir'd all the rest with new Courage, and new Ardor. And now it
+was that they began to fight indeed; and so, as if they would not be
+out-done even by their ador'd Hero; who turning the Tide of the Victory,
+changing absolutely the Fate of the Day, gain'd an entire Conquest: And
+_Oroonoko_ having the good Fortune to single out _Jamoan_, he took him
+Prisoner with his own Hand, having wounded him almost to Death.
+
+This _Jamoan_ afterwards became very dear to him, being a Man very
+Gallant, and of excellent Graces, and fine Parts; so that he never put
+him amongst the Rank of Captives as they used to do, without
+Distinction, for the common Sale, or Market, but kept him in his own
+Court, where he retain'd nothing of the Prisoner but the Name, and
+returned no more into his own Country; so great an Affection he took for
+_Oroonoko_, and by a thousand Tales and Adventures of Love and
+Gallantry, flatter'd his Disease of Melancholy and Languishment; which I
+have often heard him say, had certainly kill'd him, but for the
+Conversation of this Prince and _Aboan_, and the _French_ Governor he
+had from his Childhood, of whom I have spoken before, and who was a Man
+of admirable Wit, great Ingenuity and Learning; all which he had infused
+into his young Pupil. This _Frenchman_ was banished out of his own
+Country for some Heretical Notions he held; and tho' he was a Man of
+very little Religion, yet he had admirable Morals, and a brave Soul.
+
+After the total Defeat of _Jamoan's_ Army, which all fled, or were left
+dead upon the Place, they spent some Time in the Camp; _Oroonoko_
+chusing rather to remain a While there in his Tents, than to enter into
+a Palace, or live in a Court where he had so lately suffer'd so great a
+Loss, the Officers therefore, who saw and knew his Cause of Discontent,
+invented all sorts of Diversions and Sports to entertain their Prince:
+So that what with those Amusements abroad, and others at home, that is,
+within their Tents, with the Persuasions, Arguments, and Care of his
+Friends and Servants that he more peculiarly priz'd, he wore off in Time
+a great Part of that Chagrin, and Torture of Despair, which the first
+Efforts of _Imoinda's_ Death had given him; insomuch, as having received
+a thousand kind Embassies from the King, and Invitation to return to
+Court, he obey'd, tho' with no little Reluctancy; and when he did so,
+there was a visible Change in him, and for a long Time he was much more
+melancholy than before. But Time lessens all Extremes, and reduces 'em
+to Mediums, and Unconcern; but no Motives of Beauties, tho' all
+endeavour'd it, could engage him in any sort of Amour, tho' he had all
+the Invitations to it, both from his own Youth, and other Ambitions and
+Designs.
+
+_Oroonoko_ was no sooner return'd from this last Conquest, and receiv'd
+at Court with all the Joy and Magnificence that could be express'd to a
+young Victor, who was not only return'd Triumphant, but belov'd like a
+Deity, than there arriv'd in the Port an _English_ Ship.
+
+The Master of it had often before been in these Countries, and was very
+well known to _Oroonoko_, with whom he had traffick'd for Slaves, and
+had us'd to do the same with his Predecessors.
+
+This Commander was a Man of a finer sort of Address and Conversation,
+better bred, and more engaging, than most of that sort of Men are; so
+that he seem'd rather never to have been bred out of a Court, than
+almost all his Life at Sea. This Captain therefore was always better
+receiv'd at Court, than most of the Traders to those Countries were; and
+especially by _Oroonoko_, who was more civiliz'd, according to the
+_European_ Mode, than any other had been, and took more Delight in the
+_White_ Nations; and, above all, Men of Parts and Wit. To this Captain
+he sold abundance of his Slaves; and for the Favour and Esteem he had
+for him, made him many Presents, and oblig'd him to stay at Court as
+long as possibly he could. Which the Captain seem'd to take as a very
+great Honour done him, entertaining the Prince every Day with Globes and
+Maps, and Mathematical Discourses and Instruments; eating, drinking,
+hunting, and living with him with so much Familiarity, that it was not
+to be doubted but he had gain'd very greatly upon the Heart of this
+gallant young Man. And the Captain, in Return of all these mighty
+Favours, besought the Prince to honour his Vessel with his Presence some
+Day or other at Dinner, before he should set sail; which he condescended
+to accept, and appointed his Day. The Captain, on his Part, fail'd not
+to have all Things in a Readiness, in the most magnificent Order he
+could possibly: And the Day being come, the Captain, in his Boat, richly
+adorn'd with Carpets and Velvet Cushions, rowed to the Shore, to receive
+the Prince; with another Long-boat, where was plac'd all his Musick and
+Trumpets, with which _Oroonoko_ was extremely delighted; who met him on
+the Shore, attended by his _French_ Governor, _Jamoan_, _Aboan_, and
+about an Hundred of the noblest of the Youths of the Court: And after
+they had first carried the Prince on Board, the Boats fetch'd the rest
+off; where they found a very splendid Treat, with all Sorts of fine
+Wines; and were as well entertain'd, as 'twas possible in such a Place
+to be.
+
+The Prince having drank hard of Punch, and several Sorts of Wine, as did
+all the rest, (for great Care was taken they should want nothing of that
+Part of the Entertainment) was very merry, and in great Admiration of
+the Ship, for he had never been in one before; so that he was curious of
+beholding every Place where he decently might descend. The rest, no less
+curious, who were not quite overcome with drinking, rambled at their
+Pleasure _Fore_ and _Aft_, as their Fancies guided 'em: So that the
+Captain, who had well laid his Design before, gave the Word, and seiz'd
+on all his Guests; they clapping great Irons suddenly on the Prince,
+when he was leap'd down into the Hold, to view that Part of the Vessel;
+and locking him fast down, secur'd him. The same Treachery was used to
+all the rest; and all in one Instant, in several Places of the Ship,
+were lash'd fast in Irons, and betray'd to Slavery. That great Design
+over, they set all Hands at Work to hoist Sail; and with as treacherous
+as fair a Wind they made from the Shore with this innocent and glorious
+Prize, who thought of nothing less than such an Entertainment.
+
+Some have commended this Act, as brave in the Captain; but I will spare
+my Sense of it, and leave it to my Reader to judge as he pleases. It may
+be easily guess'd, in what Manner the Prince resented this Indignity,
+who may be best resembled to a Lion taken in a Toil; so he raged, so he
+struggled for Liberty, but all in vain: And they had so wisely managed
+his Fetters, that he could not use a Hand in his Defence, to quit
+himself of a Life that would by no Means endure Slavery; nor could he
+move from the Place where he was ty'd, to any solid Part of the Ship,
+against which he might have beat his Head, and have finish'd his
+Disgrace that Way. So that being deprived of all other Means, he
+resolv'd to perish for want of Food; and pleas'd at last with that
+Thought, and toil'd and tir'd by Rage and Indignation, he laid himself
+down, and sullenly resolv'd upon dying, and refused all Things that were
+brought him.
+
+This did not a little vex the Captain, and the more so, because he found
+almost all of 'em of the same Humour; so that the Loss of so many brave
+Slaves, so tall and goodly to behold, would have been very considerable:
+He therefore order'd one to go from him (for he would not be seen
+himself) to _Oroonoko_, and to assure him, he was afflicted for having
+rashly done so unhospitable a Deed, and which could not be now remedied,
+since they were far from Shore; but since he resented it in so high a
+Nature, he assur'd him he would revoke his Resolution, and set both him
+and his Friends ashore on the next Land they should touch at; and of
+this the Messenger gave him his Oath, provided he would resolve to live.
+And _Oroonoko_, whose Honour was such, as he never had violated a Word
+in his Life himself, much less a solemn Asseveration, believ'd in an
+Instant what this Man said; but reply'd, He expected, for a Confirmation
+of this, to have his shameful Fetters dismis'd. This Demand was carried
+to the Captain; who return'd him Answer, That the Offence had been so
+great which he had put upon the Prince, that he durst not trust him with
+Liberty while he remain'd in the Ship, for fear, lest by a Valour
+natural to him, and a Revenge that would animate that Valour, he might
+commit some Outrage fatal to himself, and the King his Master, to whom
+the Vessel did belong. To this _Oroonoko_ reply'd, He would engage his
+Honour to behave himself in all friendly Order and Manner, and obey the
+Command of the Captain, as he was Lord of the King's Vessel, and General
+of those Men under his Command.
+
+This was deliver'd to the still doubting Captain, who could not resolve
+to trust a Heathen, he said, upon his Parole, a Man that had no Sense or
+Notion of the God that he worshipp'd. _Oroonoko_ then reply'd, He was
+very sorry to hear that the Captain pretended to the Knowledge and
+Worship of any Gods, who had taught him no better Principles, than not
+to credit as he would be credited. But they told him, the Difference of
+their Faith occasion'd that Distrust: for the Captain had protested to
+him upon the Word of a Christian, and sworn in the Name of a great GOD;
+which if he should violate, he must expect eternal Torments in the World
+to come. 'Is that all the Obligations he has to be just to his Oath?
+(reply'd _Oroonoko_) Let him know, I swear by my Honour; which to
+violate, would not only render me contemptible and despised by all brave
+and honest Men, and so give my self perpetual Pain, but it would be
+eternally offending and displeasing all Mankind; harming, betraying,
+circumventing, and outraging all Men. But Punishments hereafter are
+suffer'd by one's self; and the World takes no Cognizance whether this
+GOD has reveng'd 'em or not, 'tis done so secretly, and deferr'd so
+long; while the Man of no Honour suffers every Moment the Scorn and
+Contempt of the honester World, and dies every Day ignominiously in his
+Fame, which is more valuable than Life. I speak not this to move Belief,
+but to shew you how you mistake, when you imagine, that he who will
+violate his Honour, will keep his Word with his _Gods_.' So, turning
+from him with a disdainful Smile, he refused to answer him, when he
+urged him to know what Answer he should carry back to his Captain; so
+that he departed without saying any more.
+
+The Captain pondering and consulting what to do, it was concluded, that
+nothing but _Oroonoko's_ Liberty would encourage any of the rest to eat,
+except the _Frenchman_, whom the Captain could not pretend to keep
+Prisoner, but only told him, he was secur'd, because he might act
+something in Favour of the Prince; but that he should be freed as soon
+as they came to Land. So that they concluded it wholly necessary to free
+the Prince from his Irons, that he might shew himself to the rest; that
+they might have an Eye upon him, and that they could not fear a single
+Man.
+
+This being resolved, to make the Obligation the greater, the Captain
+himself went to _Oroonoko_; where, after many Compliments, and
+Assurances of what he had already promis'd, he receiving from the Prince
+his Parole, and his Hand, for his good Behaviour, dismiss'd his Irons,
+and brought him to his own Cabin; where, after having treated and
+repos'd him a While, (for he had neither eat nor slept in four Days
+before) he besought him to visit those obstinate People in Chains, who
+refused all manner of Sustenance; and intreated him to oblige 'em to
+eat, and assure 'em of their Liberty the first Opportunity.
+
+_Oroonoko_, who was too generous not to give Credit to his Words, shew'd
+himself to his People, who were transported with Excess of Joy at the
+Sight of their darling Prince; falling at his Feet, and kissing and
+embracing 'em; believing, as some divine Oracle, all he assur'd 'em. But
+he besought 'em to bear their Chains with that Bravery that became those
+whom he had seen act so nobly in Arms; and that they could not give him
+greater Proofs of their Love and Friendship, since 'twas all the
+Security the Captain (his Friend) could have against the Revenge, he
+said, they might possibly justly take for the Injuries sustained by him.
+And they all, with one Accord, assur'd him, that they could not suffer
+enough, when it was for his Repose and Safety.
+
+After this, they no longer refus'd to eat, but took what was brought
+'em, and were pleas'd with their Captivity, since by it they hoped to
+redeem the Prince, who, all the rest of the Voyage, was treated with all
+the Respect due to his Birth, tho' nothing could divert his Melancholy;
+and he would often sigh for _Imoinda_, and think this a Punishment due
+to his Misfortune, in having left that noble Maid behind him, that fatal
+Night, in the _Otan_, when he fled to the Camp.
+
+Possess'd with a thousand Thoughts of past Joys with this fair young
+Person, and a thousand Griefs for her eternal Loss, he endur'd a tedious
+Voyage, and at last arriv'd at the Mouth of the River of _Surinam_, a
+Colony belonging to the King of _England_, and where they were to
+deliver some Part of their Slaves. There the Merchants and Gentlemen of
+the Country going on Board, to demand those Lots of Slaves they had
+already agreed on; and, amongst those, the Overseers of those
+Plantations where I then chanc'd to be: The Captain, who had given the
+Word, order'd his Men to bring up those noble Slaves in Fetters, whom I
+have spoken of; and having put 'em, some in one, and some in other Lots,
+with Women and Children, (which they call _Pickaninies_) they sold 'em
+off, as Slaves to several Merchants and Gentlemen; not putting any two
+in one Lot, because they would separate 'em far from each other; nor
+daring to trust 'em together, lest Rage and Courage should put 'em upon
+contriving some great Action, to the Ruin of the Colony.
+
+_Oroonoko_ was first seiz'd on, and sold to our Overseer, who had the
+first Lot, with seventeen more of all Sorts and Sizes, but not one of
+Quality with him. When he saw this, he found what they meant; for, as I
+said, he understood _English_ pretty well; and being wholly unarm'd and
+defenceless, so as it was in vain to make any Resistance, he only beheld
+the Captain with a Look all fierce and disdainful, upbraiding him with
+Eyes that forc'd Blushes on his guilty Cheeks, he only cry'd in passing
+over the Side of the Ship; _Farewel, Sir, 'tis worth my Sufferings to
+gain so true a Knowledge, both of you, and of your Gods, by whom you
+swear._ And desiring those that held him to forbear their Pains, and
+telling 'em he would make no Resistance, he cry'd, _Come, my
+Fellow-Slaves, let us descend, and see if we can meet with more Honour
+and Honesty in the next World we shall touch upon._ So he nimbly leapt
+into the Boat, and shewing no more Concern, suffer'd himself to be row'd
+up the River, with his seventeen Companions.
+
+The Gentleman that bought him, was a young _Cornish_ Gentleman, whose
+Name was _Trefry_; a Man of great Wit, and fine Learning, and was
+carried into those Parts by the Lord ---- Governor, to manage all his
+Affairs. He reflecting on the last Words of _Oroonoko_ to the Captain,
+and beholding the Richness of his Vest, no sooner came into the Boat,
+but he fix'd his Eyes on him; and finding something so extraordinary in
+his Face, his Shape and Mein, a Greatness of Look, and Haughtiness in
+his Air, and finding he spoke _English_, had a great Mind to be
+enquiring into his Quality and Fortune; which, though _Oroonoko_
+endeavour'd to hide, by only confessing he was above the Rank of common
+Slaves, _Trefry_ soon found he was yet something greater than he
+confess'd; and from that Moment began to conceive so vast an Esteem for
+him, that he ever after lov'd him as his dearest Brother, and shew'd him
+all the Civilities due to so great a Man.
+
+_Trefry_ was a very good Mathematician, and a Linguist; could speak
+_French_ and _Spanish_; and in the three Days they remain'd in the Boat,
+(for so long were they going from the Ship to the Plantation) he
+entertain'd _Oroonoko_ so agreeably with his Art and Discourse, that he
+was no less pleas'd with _Trefry_, than he was with the Prince; and he
+thought himself, at least, fortunate in this, that since he was a Slave,
+as long as he would suffer himself to remain so, he had a Man of so
+excellent Wit and Parts for a Master. So that before they had finish'd
+their Voyage up the River, he made no Scruple of declaring to _Trefry_
+all his Fortunes, and most Part of what I have here related, and put
+himself wholly into the Hands of his new Friend, who he found resented
+all the Injuries were done him, and was charm'd with all the Greatnesses
+of his Actions; which were recited with that Modesty, and delicate
+Sense, as wholly vanquish'd him, and subdu'd him to his Interest. And he
+promis'd him, on his Word and Honour, he would find the Means to
+re-conduct him to his own Country again; assuring him, he had a perfect
+Abhorrence of so dishonourable an Action; and that he would sooner have
+dy'd, than have been the Author of such a Perfidy. He found the Prince
+was very much concerned to know what became of his Friends, and how they
+took their Slavery; and _Trefry_ promised to take Care about the
+enquiring after their Condition, and that he should have an Account
+of 'em.
+
+Tho', as _Oroonoko_ afterwards said, he had little Reason to credit the
+Words of a _Backearary_; yet he knew not why, but he saw a kind of
+Sincerity, and aweful Truth in the Face of _Trefry_; he saw Honesty in
+his Eyes, and he found him wise and witty enough to understand Honour:
+for it was one of his Maxims, _A Man of Wit could not be a Knave or
+Villain_.
+
+In their Passage up the River, they put in at several Houses for
+Refreshment; and ever when they landed, Numbers of People would flock to
+behold this Man: not but their Eyes were daily entertain'd with the
+Sight of Slaves; but the Fame of _Oroonoko_ was gone before him, and all
+People were in Admiration of his Beauty. Besides, he had a rich Habit
+on, in which he was taken, so different from the rest, and which the
+Captain could not strip him of, because he was forc'd to surprize his
+Person in the Minute he sold him. When he found his Habit made him
+liable, as he thought, to be gazed at the more, he begged _Trefry_ to
+give him something more befitting a Slave, which he did, and took off
+his Robes: Nevertheless, he shone thro' all, and his _Osenbrigs_ (a sort
+of brown _Holland_ Suit he had on) could not conceal the Graces of his
+Looks and Mein; and he had no less Admirers than when he had his dazling
+Habit on: The Royal Youth appear'd in spite of the Slave, and People
+could not help treating him after a different Manner, without designing
+it. As soon as they approached him, they venerated and esteemed him; his
+Eyes insensibly commanded Respect, and his Behaviour insinuated it into
+every Soul. So that there was nothing talked of but this young and
+gallant Slave, even by those who yet knew not that he was a Prince.
+
+I ought to tell you, that the Christians never buy any Slaves but they
+give 'em some Name of their own, their native ones being likely very
+barbarous, and hard to pronounce; so that Mr. _Trefry_ gave _Oroonoko_
+that of _Caesar_; which name will live in that Country as long as that
+(scarce more) glorious one of the great _Roman_: for 'tis most evident
+he wanted no Part of the personal Courage of that _Caesar_, and acted
+Things as memorable, had they been done in some Part of the World
+replenished with People and Historians, that might have given him his
+Due. But his Misfortune was, to fall in an obscure World, that afforded
+only a Female Pen to celebrate his Fame; tho' I doubt not but it had
+lived from others Endeavours, if the _Dutch_, who immediately after his
+Time took that Country, had not killed, banished and dispersed all those
+that were capable of giving the World this great Man's Life, much better
+than I have done. And Mr. _Trefry_, who design'd it, died before he
+began it, and bemoan'd himself for not having undertook it in Time.
+
+For the future therefore I must call _Oroonoko Caesar_; since by that
+Name only he was known in our Western World, and by that Name he was
+received on Shore at _Parham-House_, where he was destin'd a Slave. But
+if the King himself (God bless him) had come ashore, there could not
+have been greater Expectation by all the whole Plantation, and those
+neighbouring ones, than was on ours at that Time; and he was received
+more like a Governor than a Slave: Notwithstanding, as the Custom was,
+they assigned him his Portion of Land, his House and his Business up in
+the Plantation. But as it was more for Form, than any Design to put him
+to his Task, he endured no more of the Slave but the Name, and remain'd
+some Days in the House, receiving all Visits that were made him, without
+stirring towards that Part of the Plantation where the _Negroes_ were.
+
+At last, he would needs go view his Land, his House, and the Business
+assign'd him. But he no sooner came to the Houses of the Slaves, which
+are like a little Town by itself, the _Negroes_ all having left Work,
+but they all came forth to behold him, and found he was that Prince who
+had, at several Times, sold most of 'em to these Parts; and from a
+Veneration they pay to great Men, especially if they know 'em, and from
+the Surprize and Awe they had at the Sight of him, they all cast
+themselves at his Feet, crying out, in their Language, _Live, O King!
+Long live, O King!_ and kissing his Feet, paid him even Divine Homage.
+
+Several _English_ Gentlemen were with him, and what Mr. _Trefry_ had
+told 'em was here confirm'd; of which he himself before had no other
+Witness than _Caesar_ himself: But he was infinitely glad to find his
+Grandeur confirmed by the Adoration of all the Slaves.
+
+_Caesar_, troubled with their Over-Joy, and Over-Ceremony, besought 'em
+to rise, and to receive him as their Fellow-Slave; assuring them he was
+no better. At which they set up with one Accord a most terrible and
+hideous Mourning and Condoling, which he and the _English_ had much ado
+to appease: but at last they prevailed with 'em, and they prepared all
+their barbarous Musick, and every one kill'd and dress'd something of
+his own Stock (for every Family has their Land apart, on which, at their
+Leisure-times, they breed all eatable Things) and clubbing it together,
+made a most magnificent Supper, inviting their _Grandee Captain_, their
+_Prince_, to honour it with his Presence; which he did, and several
+_English_ with him, where they all waited on him, some playing, others
+dancing before him all the Time, according to the Manners of their
+several Nations, and with unwearied Industry endeavouring to please and
+delight him.
+
+While they sat at Meat, Mr. _Trefry_ told _Caesar_, that most of these
+young Slaves were undone in Love with a fine She-Slave, whom they had
+had about six Months on their Land; the Prince, who never heard the Name
+of _Love_ without a Sigh, nor any Mention of it without the Curiosity of
+examining further into that Tale, which of all Discourses was most
+agreeable to him, asked, how they came to be so unhappy, as to be all
+undone for one fair Slave? _Trefry_, who was naturally amorous, and
+delighted to talk of Love as well as any Body, proceeded to tell him,
+they had the most charming Black that ever was beheld on their
+Plantation, about fifteen or sixteen Years old, as he guess'd; that for
+his Part he had done nothing but sigh for her ever since she came; and
+that all the White Beauties he had seen, never charm'd him so absolutely
+as this fine Creature had done; and that no Man, of any Nation, ever
+beheld her, that did not fall in love with her; and that she had all the
+Slaves perpetually at her Feet; and the whole Country resounded with the
+Fame of _Clemene_, for so (said he) we have christen'd her: but she
+denies us all with such a noble Disdain, that 'tis a Miracle to see,
+that she who can give such eternal Desires, should herself be all Ice
+and all Unconcern. She is adorn'd with the most graceful Modesty that
+ever beautify'd Youth; the softest Sigher--that, if she were capable of
+Love, one would swear she languished for some absent happy Man; and so
+retired, as if she fear'd a Rape even from the God of Day, or that the
+Breezes would steal Kisses from her delicate Mouth. Her Task of Work,
+some sighing Lover every Day makes it his Petition to perform for her;
+which she accepts blushing, and with Reluctancy, for Fear he will ask
+her a Look for a Recompence, which he dares not presume to hope; so
+great an Awe she strikes into the Hearts of her Admirers. 'I do not
+wonder (_reply'd the Prince_) that _Clemene_ should refuse Slaves,
+being, as you say, so beautiful; but wonder how she escapes those that
+can entertain her as you can do: or why, being your Slave, you do not
+oblige her to yield?' 'I confess (_said +Trefry+_) when I have, against
+her Will, entertained her with Love so long, as to be transported with
+my Passion even above Decency, I have been ready to make Use of those
+Advantages of Strength and Force Nature has given me: But Oh! she
+disarms me with that Modesty and Weeping, so tender and so moving, that
+I retire, and thank my Stars she overcame me.' The Company laugh'd at
+his Civility to a Slave, and _Caesar_ only applauded the Nobleness of
+his Passion and Nature, since that Slave might be noble, or, what was
+better, have true Notions of Honour and Virtue in her. Thus passed they
+this Night, after having received from the Slaves all imaginable Respect
+and Obedience.
+
+The next Day, _Trefry_ ask'd _Caesar_ to walk when the Heat was allay'd,
+and designedly carried him by the Cottage of the fair Slave; and told
+him she whom he spoke of last Night lived there retir'd: _But_ (says he)
+_I would not wish you to approach; for I am sure you will be in Love as
+soon as you behold her._ _Caesar_ assured him, he was Proof against all
+the Charms of that Sex; and that if he imagined his Heart could be so
+perfidious to love again after _Imoinda_, he believed he should tear it
+from his Bosom. They had no sooner spoke, but a little Shock-Dog, that
+_Clemene_ had presented her, which she took great Delight in, ran out;
+and she, not knowing any Body was there, ran to get it in again, and
+bolted out on those who were just speaking of her: when seeing them, she
+would have run in again, but _Trefry_ caught her by the Hand, and cry'd,
+Clemene, _however you fly a Lover, you ought to pay some Respect to this
+Stranger_, (pointing to _Caesar_.) But she, as if she had resolved never
+to raise her Eyes to the Face of a Man again, bent 'em the more to the
+Earth, when he spoke, and gave the Prince the Leisure to look the more
+at her. There needed no long gazing, or Consideration, to examine who
+this fair Creature was; he soon saw _Imoinda_ all over her: in a Minute
+he saw her Face, her Shape, her Air, her Modesty, and all that call'd
+forth his Soul with Joy at his Eyes, and left his Body destitute of
+almost Life: it stood without Motion, and for a Minute knew not that it
+had a Being; and, I believe, he had never come to himself, so oppress'd
+he was with Over-joy, if he had not met with this Allay, that he
+perceived _Imoinda_ fall dead in the Hands of _Trefry_. This awaken'd
+him, and he ran to her Aid, and caught her in his Arms, where by Degrees
+she came to her self; and 'tis needless to tell with what Transports,
+what Extasies of Joy, they both a While beheld each other, without
+speaking; then snatched each other to their Arms; then gaze again, as if
+they still doubted whether they possess'd the Blessing they grasped: but
+when they recover'd their Speech, 'tis not to be imagined what tender
+Things they express'd to each other; wondring what strange Fate had
+brought them again together. They soon inform'd each other of their
+Fortunes, and equally bewail'd their Fate; but at the same Time they
+mutually protested, that even Fetters and Slavery were soft and easy,
+and would be supported with Joy and Pleasure, while they could be so
+happy to possess each other, and to be able to make good their Vows.
+_Caesar_ swore he disdained the Empire of the World, while he could
+behold his _Imoinda_; and she despised Grandeur and Pomp, those Vanities
+of her Sex, when she could gaze on _Oroonoko_. He ador'd the very
+Cottage where she resided, and said, That little Inch of the World would
+give him more Happiness than all the Universe could do; and she vow'd it
+was a Palace, while adorned with the Presence of _Oroonoko_.
+
+_Trefry_ was infinitely pleased with this Novel, and found this
+_Clemene_ was the fair Mistress of whom _Caesar_ had before spoke; and
+was not a little satisfy'd, that Heaven was so kind to the Prince as to
+sweeten his Misfortunes by so lucky an Accident; and leaving the Lovers
+to themselves, was impatient to come down to _Parham-House_ (which was
+on the same Plantation) to give me an Account of what had happened.
+I was as impatient to make these Lovers a Visit, having already made
+a Friendship with _Caesar_, and from his own Mouth learned what I have
+related; which was confirmed by his _Frenchman_, who was set on shore
+to seek his Fortune, and of whom they could not make a Slave, because
+a Christian; and he came daily to _Parham-Hill_ to see and pay his
+Respects to his Pupil Prince. So that concerning and interesting myself
+in all that related to _Caesar_, whom I had assured of Liberty as soon
+as the Governour arrived, I hasted presently to the Place where these
+Lovers were, and was infinitely glad to find this beautiful young
+Slave (who had already gain'd all our Esteems, for her Modesty and
+extraordinary Prettiness) to be the same I had heard _Caesar_ speak so
+much of. One may imagine then we paid her a treble Respect; and tho'
+from her being carved in fine Flowers and Birds all over her Body, we
+took her to be of Quality before, yet when we knew _Clemene_ was
+_Imoinda_, we could not enough admire her.
+
+I had forgot to tell you, that those who are nobly born of that Country,
+are so delicately cut and raised all over the Fore-part of the Trunk of
+their Bodies, that it looks as if it were japan'd, the Works being
+raised like high Point round the Edges of the Flowers. Some are only
+carved with a little Flower, or Bird, at the Sides of the Temples, as
+was _Caesar_; and those who are so carved over the Body, resemble our
+antient _Picts_ that are figur'd in the Chronicles, but these Carvings
+are more delicate.
+
+From that happy Day _Caesar_ took _Clemene_ for his Wife, to the general
+Joy of all People; and there was as much Magnificence as the Country
+could afford at the Celebration of this Wedding: And in a very short
+Time after she conceived with Child, which made _Caesar_ even adore her,
+knowing he was the last of his great Race. This new Accident made him
+more impatient of Liberty, and he was every Day treating with _Trefrey_
+for his and _Clemene's_ Liberty, and offer'd either Gold, or a vast
+Quantity of Slaves, which should be paid before they let him go,
+provided he could have any Security that he should go when his Ransom
+was paid. They fed him from Day to Day with Promises, and delay'd him
+till the Lord-Governor should come; so that he began to suspect them of
+Falshood, and that they would delay him till the Time of his Wife's
+Delivery, and make a Slave of the Child too; for all the Breed is theirs
+to whom the Parents belong. This Thought made him very uneasy, and his
+Sullenness gave them some Jealousies of him; so that I was obliged, by
+some Persons who fear'd a Mutiny (which is very fatal sometimes in those
+Colonies that abound so with Slaves, that they exceed the Whites in vast
+Numbers) to discourse with _Caesar_, and to give him all the Satisfaction
+I possibly could: They knew he and _Clemene_ were scarce an Hour in a
+Day from my Lodgings; that they eat with me, and that I oblig'd them in
+all Things I was capable. I entertained them with the Lives of the
+_Romans_, and great Men, which charmed him to my Company; and her, with
+teaching her all the pretty Works that I was Mistress of, and telling
+her Stories of Nuns, and endeavouring to bring her to the Knowledge of
+the true God: But of all Discourses, _Caesar_ liked that the worst, and
+would never be reconciled to our Notions of the Trinity, of which he
+ever made a Jest; it was a Riddle he said would turn his Brain to
+conceive, and one could not make him understand what Faith was. However,
+these Conversations fail'd not altogether so well to divert him, that he
+liked the Company of us Women much above the Men, for he could not
+drink, and he is but an ill Companion in that Country that cannot. So
+that obliging him to love us very well, we had all the Liberty of Speech
+with him, especially my self, whom he call'd his _Great Mistress_; and
+indeed my Word would go a great Way with him. For these Reasons I had
+Opportunity to take Notice to him, that he was not well pleased of late,
+as he used to be; was more retired and thoughtful; and told him, I took
+it ill he should suspect we would break our Words with him, and not
+permit both him and _Clemene_ to return to his own Kingdom, which was
+not so long a Way, but when he was once on his Voyage he would quickly
+arrive there. He made me some Answers that shew'd a Doubt in him, which
+made me ask, what Advantage it would be to doubt? It would but give us a
+Fear of him, and possibly compel us to treat him so as I should be very
+loth to behold; that is, it might occasion his Confinement. Perhaps this
+was not so luckily spoke of me, for I perceiv'd he resented that Word,
+which I strove to soften again in vain: However, he assur'd me, that
+whatsoever Resolutions he should take, he would act nothing upon the
+_White_ People; and as for myself, and those upon that _Plantation_
+where he was, he would sooner forfeit his eternal Liberty, and Life
+itself, than lift his Hand against his greatest Enemy on that Place. He
+besought me to suffer no Fears upon his Account, for he could do nothing
+that Honour should not dictate; but he accused himself for having
+suffer'd Slavery so long; yet he charg'd that Weakness on Love alone,
+who was capable of making him neglect even Glory itself; and, for which,
+now he reproaches himself every Moment of the Day. Much more to this
+Effect he spoke, with an Air impatient enough to make me know he would
+not be long in Bondage; and tho' he suffer'd only the Name of a Slave,
+and had nothing of the Toil and Labour of one, yet that was sufficient
+to render him uneasy; and he had been too long idle, who us'd to be
+always in Action, and in Arms. He had a Spirit all rough and fierce, and
+that could not be tam'd to lazy Rest: And tho' all Endeavours were us'd
+to exercise himself in such Actions and Sports as this World afforded,
+as Running, Wrestling, Pitching the Bar, Hunting and Fishing, Chasing
+and Killing _Tygers_ of a monstrous Size, which this Continent affords
+in abundance; and wonderful _Snakes_, such as _Alexander_ is reported to
+have encounter'd at the River of _Amazons_, and which _Caesar_ took great
+Delight to overcome; yet these were not Actions great enough for his
+large Soul, which was still panting after more renown'd Actions.
+
+Before I parted that Day with him, I got, with much ado, a Promise from
+him to rest yet a little longer with Patience, and wait the Coming of
+the Lord Governour, who was every Day expected on our Shore: He assur'd
+me he would, and this Promise he desired me to know was given perfectly
+in Complaisance to me, in whom he had an entire Confidence.
+
+After this, I neither thought it convenient to trust him much out of our
+View, nor did the Country, who fear'd him; but with one Accord it was
+advis'd to treat him fairly, and oblige him to remain within such a
+Compass, and that he should be permitted, as seldom as could be, to go
+up to the Plantations of the _Negroes_; or, if he did, to be accompany'd
+by some that should be rather, in Appearance, Attendants than Spies.
+This Care was for some time taken, and _Caesar_ look'd upon it as a Mark
+of extraordinary Respect, and was glad his Discontent had oblig'd 'em to
+be more observant to him; he received new Assurance from the Overseer,
+which was confirmed to him by the Opinion of all the Gentlemen of the
+Country, who made their Court to him. During this Time that we had his
+Company more frequently than hitherto we had had, it may not be
+unpleasant to relate to you the Diversions we entertain'd him with, or
+rather he us.
+
+My Stay was to be short in that Country; because my Father dy'd at Sea,
+and never arriv'd to possess the Honour design'd him, (which was
+Lieutenant-General of six and thirty Islands, besides the Continent of
+_Surinam_) nor the Advantages he hop'd to reap by them: So that though
+we were oblig'd to continue on our Voyage, we did not intend to stay
+upon the Place. Though, in a Word, I must say thus much of it; That
+certainly had his late Majesty, of sacred Memory, but seen and known
+what a vast and charming World he had been Master of in that Continent,
+he would never have parted so easily with it to the _Dutch_. 'Tis a
+Continent, whose vast Extent was never yet known, and may contain more
+noble Earth than all the Universe beside; for, they say, it reaches from
+East to West one Way as far as _China_, and another to _Peru_: It
+affords all Things, both for Beauty and Use; 'tis there eternal Spring,
+always the very Months of _April_, _May_, and _June_; the Shades are
+perpetual, the Trees bearing at once all Degrees of Leaves, and Fruit,
+from blooming Buds to ripe Autumn: Groves of Oranges, Lemons, Citrons,
+Figs, Nutmegs, and noble Aromaticks, continually bearing their
+Fragrancies: The Trees appearing all like Nosegays, adorn'd with Flowers
+of different Kinds; some are all White, some Purple, some Scarlet, some
+Blue, some Yellow; bearing at the same Time ripe Fruit, and blooming
+young, or producing every Day new. The very Wood of all these Trees has
+an intrinsic Value, above common Timber; for they are, when cut, of
+different Colours, glorious to behold, and bear a Price considerable, to
+inlay withal. Besides this, they yield rich Balm, and Gums; so that we
+make our Candles of such an aromatic Substance, as does not only give a
+sufficient Light, but as they burn, they cast their Perfumes all about.
+Cedar is the common Firing, and all the Houses are built with it. The
+very Meat we eat, when set on the Table, if it be native, I mean of the
+Country, perfumes the whole Room; especially a little Beast call'd an
+_Armadillo_, a Thing which I can liken to nothing so well as a
+_Rhinoceros_; 'tis all in white Armour, so jointed, that it moves as
+well in it, as if it had nothing on: This Beast is about the Bigness of
+a Pig of six Weeks old. But it were endless to give an Account of all
+the divers wonderful and strange Things that Country affords, and which
+we took a great Delight to go in Search of; tho' those Adventures are
+oftentimes fatal, and at least dangerous: But while we had _Caesar_ in
+our Company on these Designs, we fear'd no Harm, nor suffer'd any.
+
+As soon as I came into the Country, the best House in it was presented
+me, call'd _St. John's Hill_: It stood on a vast Rock of white Marble,
+at the Foot of which, the River ran a vast Depth down, and not to be
+descended on that Side; the little Waves still dashing and washing the
+Foot of this Rock, made the softest Murmurs and Purlings in the World;
+and the opposite Bank was adorn'd with such vast Quantities of different
+Flowers eternally blowing, and every Day and Hour new, fenc'd behind 'em
+with lofty Trees of a thousand rare Forms and Colours, that the Prospect
+was the most ravishing that Sands can create. On the Edge of this white
+Rock, towards the River, was a Walk, or Grove, of Orange and
+Lemon-Trees, about half the Length of the _Mall_ here, whose flowery and
+Fruit-bearing Branches met at the Top, and hinder'd the Sun, whose Rays
+are very fierce there, from entring a Beam into the Grove; and the cool
+Air that came from the River, made it not only fit to entertain People
+in, at all the hottest Hours of the Day, but refresh the sweet Blossoms,
+and made it always sweet and charming; and sure, the whole Globe of the
+World cannot shew so delightful a Place as this Grove was: Not all the
+Gardens of boasted _Italy_ can produce a Shade to out-vie this, which
+Nature had join'd with Art to render so exceeding fine; and 'tis a
+Marvel to see how such vast Trees, as big as _English_ Oaks, could take
+Footing on so solid a Rock, and in so little Earth as cover'd that Rock:
+But all Things by Nature there are rare, delightful, and wonderful. But
+to our Sports.
+
+Sometimes we would go surprising, and in Search of young _Tygers_ in
+their Dens, watching when the old ones went forth to forage for Prey;
+and oftentimes we have been in great Danger, and have fled apace for our
+Lives, when surpriz'd by the Dams. But once, above all other Times, we
+went on this Design, and _Caesar_ was with us; who had no sooner stoln a
+young _Tyger_ from her Nest, but going off, we encounter'd the Dam,
+bearing a Buttock of a Cow, which she had torn off with her mighty Paw,
+and going with it towards her Den: We had only four Women, _Caesar_, and
+an _English_ Gentleman, Brother to _Harry Martin_ the great _Oliverian_;
+we found there was no escaping this enraged and ravenous Beast. However,
+we Women fled as fast as we could from it; but our Heels had not saved
+our Lives, if _Caesar_ had not laid down her _Cub_, when he found the
+_Tyger_ quit her Prey to make the more Speed towards him; and taking Mr.
+_Martin's_ Sword, desired him to stand aside, or follow the Ladies. He
+obey'd him; and _Caesar_ met this monstrous Beast of mighty Size, and
+vast Limbs, who came with open Jaws upon him; and fixing his aweful
+stern Eyes full upon those of the Beast, and putting himself into a very
+steady and good aiming Posture of Defence, ran his Sword quite through
+his Breast, down to his very Heart, home to the Hilt of the Sword: The
+dying Beast stretch'd forth her Paw, and going to grasp his Thigh,
+surpriz'd with Death in that very Moment, did him no other Harm than
+fixing her long Nails in his Flesh very deep, feebly wounded him, but
+could not grasp the Flesh to tear off any. When he had done this, he
+hallow'd to us to return; which, after some Assurance of his Victory, we
+did, and found him lugging out the Sword from the Bosom of the _Tyger_,
+who was laid in her Blood on the Ground. He took up the _Cub_, and with
+an Unconcern that had nothing of the Joy or Gladness of Victory, he came
+and laid the Whelp at my Feet. We all extremely wonder'd at his daring,
+and at the Bigness of the Beast, which was about the Height of an
+Heifer, but of mighty great and strong Limbs.
+
+Another time, being in the Woods, he kill'd a _Tyger_, that had long
+infested that Part, and borne away abundance of Sheep and Oxen, and
+other Things, that were for the Support of those to whom they belong'd.
+Abundance of People assail'd this Beast, some affirming they had shot
+her with several Bullets quite through the Body at several times; and
+some swearing they shot her through the very Heart; and they believed
+she was a Devil, rather than a mortal Thing. _Caesar_ had often said, he
+had a Mind to encounter this Monster, and spoke with several Gentlemen
+who had attempted her; one crying, I shot her with so many poison'd
+Arrows, another with his Gun in this Part of her, and another in that;
+so that he remarking all the Places where she was shot, fancy'd still he
+should overcome her, by giving her another Sort of a Wound than any had
+yet done; and one Day said (at the Table), 'What Trophies and Garlands,
+Ladies, will you make me, if I bring you home the Heart of this ravenous
+Beast, that eats up all your Lambs and Pigs?' We all promis'd he should
+be rewarded at our Hands. So taking a Bow, which he chose out of a great
+many, he went up into the Wood, with two Gentlemen, where he imagin'd
+this Devourer to be. They had not pass'd very far into it, but they
+heard her Voice, growling and grumbling, as if she were pleas'd with
+something she was doing. When they came in View, they found her muzzling
+in the Belly of a new ravish'd Sheep, which she had torn open; and
+seeing herself approach'd, she took fast hold of her Prey with her fore
+Paws, and set a very fierce raging Look on _Caesar_, without offering to
+approach him, for Fear at the same Time of loosing what she had in
+Possession: So that _Caesar_ remain'd a good while, only taking Aim, and
+getting an Opportunity to shoot her where he design'd. 'Twas some Time
+before he could accomplish it; and to wound her, and not kill her, would
+but have enrag'd her the more, and endanger'd him. He had a Quiver of
+Arrows at his Side, so that if one fail'd, he could be supply'd: At
+last, retiring a little, he gave her Opportunity to eat, for he found
+she was ravenous, and fell to as soon as she saw him retire, being more
+eager of her Prey, than of doing new Mischiefs; when he going softly to
+one Side of her, and hiding his Person behind certain Herbage, that grew
+high and thick, he took so good Aim, that, as he intended, he shot her
+just into the Eye, and the Arrow was sent with so good a Will, and so
+sure a Hand, that it stuck in her Brain, and made her caper, and become
+mad for a Moment or two; but being seconded by another Arrow, she fell
+dead upon the Prey. _Caesar_ cut her open with a Knife, to see where
+those Wounds were that had been reported to him, and why she did not die
+of 'em. But I shall now relate a Thing that, possibly, will find no
+Credit among Men; because 'tis a Notion commonly receiv'd with us, That
+nothing can receive a Wound in the Heart, and live: But when the Heart
+of this courageous Animal was taken out, there were seven Bullets of
+Lead in it, the Wound seam'd up with great Scars, and she liv'd with the
+Bullets a great While, for it was long since they were shot: This Heart
+the Conqueror brought up to us, and 'twas a very great Curiosity, which
+all the Country came to see; and which gave _Caesar_ Occasion of many
+fine Discourses of Accidents in War, and strange Escapes.
+
+At other times he would go a Fishing; and discoursing on that Diversion,
+he found we had in that Country a very strange Fish, call'd a
+_Numb-Eel_, (an _Eel_ of which I have eaten) that while it is alive, it
+has a Quality so cold, that those who are angling, tho' with a Line of
+ever so great a Length, with a Rod at the End of it, it shall in the
+same Minute the Bait is touch'd by this _Eel_, seize him or her that
+holds the Rod with a Numbness, that shall deprive 'em of Sense for a
+While; and some have fallen into the Water, and others drop'd, as dead,
+on the Banks of the Rivers where they stood, as soon as this Fish
+touches the Bait. _Caesar_ us'd to laugh at this, and believ'd it
+impossible a Man could lose his Force at the Touch of a Fish; and could
+not understand that Philosophy, that a cold Quality should be of that
+Nature; however, he had a great Curiosity to try whether it would have
+the same Effect on him it had on others, and often try'd, but in vain.
+At last, the sought-for Fish came to the Bait, as he stood angling on
+the Bank; and instead of throwing away the Rod, or giving it a sudden
+Twitch out of the Water, whereby he might have caught both the _Eel_,
+and have dismiss'd the Rod, before it could have too much Power over
+him; for Experiment-sake, he grasp'd it but the harder, and fainting,
+fell into the River; and being still possess'd of the Rod, the Tide
+carry'd him, senseless as he was, a great Way, till an _Indian_ Boat
+took him up; and perceiv'd, when they touch'd him, a Numbness seize
+them, and by that knew the Rod was in his Hand; which with a Paddle,
+(that is a short Oar) they struck away, and snatch'd it into the Boat,
+_Eel_ and all. If _Caesar_ was almost dead, with the Effect of this Fish,
+he was more so with that of the Water, where he had remain'd the Space
+of going a League, and they found they had much ado to bring him back to
+Life; but at last they did, and brought him home, where he was in a few
+Hours well recover'd and refresh'd, and not a little asham'd to find he
+should be overcome by an _Eel_, and that all the People, who heard his
+Defiance, would laugh at him. But we chear'd him up; and he being
+convinc'd, we had the _Eel_ at Supper, which was a quarter of an Ell
+about, and most delicate Meat; and was of the more Value, since it cost
+so dear as almost the Life of so gallant a Man.
+
+About this Time we were in many mortal Fears, about some Disputes the
+_English_ had with the _Indians_; so that we could scarce trust our
+selves, without great Numbers, to go to any _Indian_ Towns, or Place
+where they abode, for fear they should fall upon us, as they did
+immediately after my coming away; and the Place being in the Possession
+of the _Dutch_, they us'd them not so civilly as the _English_; so that
+they cut in Pieces all they could take, getting into Houses and hanging
+up the Mother, and all her Children about her; and cut a Footman, I left
+behind me, all in Joints, and nail'd him to Trees.
+
+This Feud began while I was there; so that I lost half the Satisfaction
+I propos'd, in not seeing and visiting the _Indian_ Towns. But one Day,
+bemoaning of our Misfortunes upon this Account, _Caesar_ told us, we need
+not fear, for if we had a Mind to go, he would undertake to be our
+Guard. Some would, but most would not venture: About eighteen of us
+resolv'd, and took Barge; and after eight Days, arriv'd near an _Indian_
+Town: But approaching it, the Hearts of some of our Company fail'd, and
+they would not venture on Shore; so we poll'd, who would, and who would
+not. For my Part, I said, if _Caesar_ would, I would go. He resolv'd; so
+did my Brother, and my Woman, a Maid of good Courage. Now none of us
+speaking the Language of the People, and imagining we should have a half
+Diversion in gazing only; and not knowing what they said, we took a
+Fisherman that liv'd at the Mouth of the River, who had been a long
+Inhabitant there, and oblig'd him to go with us: But because he was
+known to the _Indians_, as trading among 'em, and being, by long living
+there, become a perfect _Indian_ in Colour, we, who had a Mind to
+surprize 'em, by making them see something they never had seen, (that
+is, _White_ People) resolv'd only my self, my Brother and Woman should
+go: So _Caesar_, the Fisherman, and the rest, hiding behind some thick
+Reeds and Flowers that grew in the Banks, let us pass on towards the
+Town, which was on the Bank of the River all along. A little distant
+from the Houses, or Huts, we saw some dancing, others busy'd in fetching
+and carrying of Water from the River. They had no sooner spy'd us, but
+they set up a loud Cry, that frighted us at first; we thought it had
+been for those that should kill us, but it seems it was of Wonder and
+Amazement. They were all naked; and we were dress'd, so as is most
+commode for the hot Countries, very glittering and rich; so that we
+appear'd extremely fine; my own Hair was cut short, and I had a Taffety
+Cap, with black Feathers on my Head; my Brother was in a Stuff-Suit,
+with Silver Loops and Buttons, and abundance of green Ribbon. This was
+all infinitely surprising to them; and because we saw them stand still
+till we approach'd 'em, we took Heart and advanc'd, came up to 'em, and
+offer'd 'em our Hands; which they took, and look'd on us round about,
+calling still for more Company; who came swarming out, all wondering,
+and crying out _Tepeeme_; taking their Hair up in their Hands, and
+spreading it wide to those they call'd out to; as if they would say
+(as indeed it signify'd) _Numberless Wonders_, or not to be recounted,
+no more than to number the Hair of their Heads. By Degrees they grew
+more bold, and from gazing upon us round, they touch'd us, laying their
+Hands upon all the Features of our Faces, feeling our Breasts, and Arms,
+taking up one Petticoat, then wondering to see another; admiring our
+Shoes and Stockings, but more our Garters, which we gave 'em, and they
+ty'd about their Legs, being lac'd with Silver Lace at the Ends; for
+they much esteem any shining Things. In fine, we suffer'd 'em to survey
+us as they pleas'd, and we thought they would never have done admiring
+us. When _Caesar_, and the rest, saw we were receiv'd with such Wonder,
+they came up to us; and finding the _Indian_ Trader whom they knew, (for
+'tis by these Fishermen, call'd _Indian_ Traders, we hold a Commerce
+with 'em; for they love not to go far from home, and we never go to
+them) when they saw him therefore, they set up a new Joy, and cry'd in
+their Language, _Oh, here's our +Tiguamy+, and we shall know whether
+those Things can speak._ So advancing to him, some of 'em gave him their
+Hands, and cry'd, _Amora Tiguamy_; which is as much as, _How do you do?_
+or, _Welcome Friend_; and all, with one din, began to gabble to him, and
+ask'd, if we had Sense and Wit? If we could talk of Affairs of Life and
+War, as they could do? If we could hunt, swim, and do a thousand Things
+they use? He answer'd 'em, We could. Then they invited us into their
+Houses, and dress'd Venison and Buffalo for us; and going out, gather'd
+a Leaf of a Tree, called a _Sarumbo_ Leaf, of six Yards long, and spread
+it on the Ground for a Table-Cloth; and cutting another in Pieces,
+instead of Plates, set us on little low _Indian_ Stools, which they cut
+out of one entire Piece of Wood, and paint in a sort of Japan-Work. They
+serve every one their Mess on these Pieces of Leaves; and it was very
+good, but too high-season'd with Pepper. When we had eat, my Brother and
+I took out our Flutes, and play'd to 'em, which gave 'em new Wonder; and
+I soon perceiv'd, by an Admiration that is natural to these People, and
+by the extreme Ignorance and Simplicity of 'em, it were not difficult to
+establish any unknown or extravagant Religion among them, and to impose
+any Notions or Fictions upon 'em. For seeing a Kinsman of mine set some
+Paper on Fire with a Burning-Glass, a Trick they had never before seen,
+they were like to have ador'd him for a God, and begg'd he would give
+'em the Characters or Figures of his Name, that they might oppose it
+against Winds and Storms: which he did, and they held it up in those
+Seasons, and fancy'd it had a Charm to conquer them, and kept it like a
+holy Relique. They are very superstitious, and call'd him the Great
+_Peeie_, that is, _Prophet_. They shewed us their _Indian Peeie_, a
+Youth of about sixteen Years old, as handsome as Nature could make a
+Man. They consecrate a beautiful Youth from his Infancy, and all Arts
+are used to compleat him in the finest Manner, both in Beauty and Shape:
+He is bred to all the little Arts and Cunning they are capable of; to
+all the legerdemain Tricks, and Slight of Hand, whereby he imposes on
+the Rabble; and is both a Doctor in Physick and Divinity: And by these
+Tricks makes the Sick believe he sometimes eases their Pains, by drawing
+from the afflicted Part little Serpents, or odd Flies, or Worms, or any
+strange Thing; and though they have besides undoubted good Remedies for
+almost all their Diseases, they cure the Patient more by Fancy than by
+Medicines, and make themselves feared, loved, and reverenced. This young
+_Peeie_ had a very young Wife, who seeing my Brother kiss her, came
+running and kiss'd me. After this they kiss'd one another, and made it a
+very great Jest, it being so novel; and new Admiration and Laughing went
+round the Multitude, that they never will forget that Ceremony, never
+before us'd or known. _Caesar_ had a Mind to see and talk with their
+War-Captains, and we were conducted to one of their Houses, where we
+beheld several of the great Captains, who had been at Council: But so
+frightful a Vision it was to see 'em, no Fancy can create; no sad Dreams
+can represent so dreadful a Spectacle. For my Part, I took 'em for
+Hobgoblins, or Fiends, rather than Men; But however their Shapes
+appear'd, their Souls were very humane and noble; but some wanted their
+Noses, some their Lips, some both Noses and Lips, some their Ears, and
+others cut through each Cheek, with long Slashes, through which their
+Teeth appear'd: They had several other formidable Wounds and Scars, or
+rather Dismembrings. They had _Comitias_, or little Aprons before them;
+and Girdles of Cotton, with their Knives naked stuck in it; a Bow at
+their Back, and a Quiver of Arrows on their Thighs; and most had
+Feathers on their Heads of divers Colours. They cry'd _Amora Tiguamy_ to
+us, at our Entrance, and were pleas'd we said as much to them: They
+seated us, and gave us Drink of the best Sort, and wonder'd as much as
+the others had done before to see us. _Caesar_ was marvelling as much at
+their Faces, wondring how they should be all so wounded in War; he was
+impatient to know how they all came by those frightful Marks of Rage or
+Malice, rather than Wounds got in noble Battle: They told us by our
+Interpreter, That when any War was waging, two Men, chosen out by some
+old Captain whose fighting was past, and who could only teach the Theory
+of War, were to stand in Competition for the Generalship, or great
+War-Captain; and being brought before the old Judges, now past Labour,
+they are ask'd, What they dare do, to shew they are worthy to lead an
+Army? When he who is first ask'd, making no Reply, cuts off his Nose,
+and throws it contemptibly on the Ground; and the other does something
+to himself that he thinks surpasses him, and perhaps deprives himself of
+Lips and an Eye: So they slash on 'till one gives out, and many have
+dy'd in this Debate. And it's by a passive Valour they shew and prove
+their Activity; a sort of Courage too brutal to be applauded by our
+_Black_ Hero; nevertheless, he express'd his Esteem of 'em.
+
+In this Voyage _Caesar_ begat so good an Understanding between the
+_Indians_ and the _English_, that there were no more Fears or
+Heart-burnings during our Stay, but we had a perfect, open, and free
+Trade with 'em. Many Things remarkable, and worthy reciting, we met with
+in this short Voyage; because _Caesar_ made it his Business to search out
+and provide for our Entertainment, especially to please his dearly
+ador'd _Imoinda_, who was a Sharer in all our Adventures; we being
+resolv'd to make her Chains as easy as we could, and to compliment the
+Prince in that Manner that most oblig'd him.
+
+As we were coming up again, we met with some _Indians_ of strange
+Aspects; that is, of a larger Size, and other sort of Features, than
+those of our Country. Our _Indian Slaves_, that row'd us, ask'd 'em some
+Questions; but they could not understand us, but shew'd us a long Cotton
+String, with several Knots on it, and told us, they had been coming from
+the Mountains so many Moons as there were Knots: they were habited in
+Skins of a strange Beast, and brought along with 'em Bags of Gold-Dust;
+which, as well as they could give as to understand, came streaming in
+little small Channels down the high Mountains, when the Rains fell; and
+offer'd to be the Convoy to any Body, or Persons, that would go to the
+Mountains. We carry'd these Men up to _Parham_, where they were kept
+till the Lord-Governor came: And because all the Country was mad to be
+going on this Golden Adventure, the Governor, by his Letters, commanded
+(for they sent some of the Gold to him) that a Guard should be set at
+the Mouth of the River of _Amazons_ (a River so call'd, almost as broad
+as the River of _Thames_) and prohibited all People from going up that
+River, it conducting to those Mountains or Gold. But we going off for
+_England_ before the Project was further prosecuted, and the Governor
+being drown'd in a Hurricane, either the Design died, or the _Dutch_
+have the Advantage of it: And 'tis to be bemoan'd what his Majesty lost,
+by losing that Part of _America_.
+
+Though this Digression is a little from my Story, however, since it
+contains some Proofs of the Curiosity and Daring of this great Man,
+I was content to omit nothing of his Character.
+
+It was thus for some Time we diverted him; but now _Imoinda_ began to
+shew she was with Child, and did nothing but sigh and weep for the
+Captivity of her Lord, herself, and the Infant yet unborn; and believ'd,
+if it were so hard to gain the Liberty of two, 'twould be more difficult
+to get that for three. Her Griefs were so many Darts in the great Heart
+of _Caesar_, and taking his Opportunity, one _Sunday_, when all the
+_Whites_ were overtaken in Drink, as there were abundance of several
+Trades, and _Slaves_ for four Years, that inhabited among the _Negro_
+Houses; and _Sunday_ being their Day of Debauch, (otherwise they were a
+sort of Spies upon _Caesar_) he went, pretending out of Goodness to 'em,
+to feast among 'em, and sent all his Musick, and order'd a great Treat
+for the whole Gang, about three hundred _Negroes_, and about an hundred
+and fifty were able to bear Arms, such as they had, which were
+sufficient to do Execution, with Spirits accordingly: For the _English_
+had none but rusty Swords, that no Strength could draw from a Scabbard;
+except the People of particular Quality, who took Care to oil 'em, and
+keep 'em in good Order: The Guns also, unless here and there one, or
+those newly carried from _England_, would do no Good or Harm; for 'tis
+the Nature of that Country to rust and eat up Iron, or any Metals but
+Gold and Silver. And they are very expert at the Bow, which the
+_Negroes_ and _Indians_ are perfect Masters of.
+
+_Caesar_, having singled out these Men from the Women and Children, made
+an Harangue to 'em, of the Miseries and Ignominies of Slavery; counting
+up all their Toils and Sufferings, under such Loads, Burdens and
+Drudgeries, as were fitter for Beasts than Men; senseless Brutes, than
+human Souls. He told 'em, it was not for Days, Months or Years, but for
+Eternity; there was no End to be of their Misfortunes: They suffer'd not
+like Men, who might find a Glory and Fortitude in Oppression; but like
+Dogs, that lov'd the Whip and Bell, and fawn'd the more they were
+beaten: That they had lost the divine Quality of Men, and were become
+insensible Asses, fit only to bear: Nay, worse; an Ass, or Dog, or
+Horse, having done his Duty, could lie down in Retreat, and rise to work
+again, and while he did his Duty, endur'd no Stripes; but Men,
+villanous, senseless Men, such as they, toil'd on all the tedious Week
+'till _Black Friday_; and then, whether they work'd or not, whether they
+were faulty or meriting, they, promiscuously, the Innocent with the
+Guilty, suffer'd the infamous Whip, the sordid Stripes, from their
+Fellow-Slaves, 'till their Blood trickled from all Parts of their Body;
+Blood, whose every Drop ought to be revenged with a Life of some of
+those Tyrants that impose it. 'And why (_said he_) my dear Friends and
+Fellow-sufferers, should we be Slaves to an unknown People? Have they
+vanquished us nobly in Fight? Have they won us in Honourable Battle? And
+are we by the Chance of War become their Slaves? This would not anger a
+noble Heart; this would not animate a Soldier's Soul: No, but we are
+bought and sold like Apes or Monkeys, to be the Sport of Women, Fools
+and Cowards; and the Support of Rogues and Runagades, that have
+abandoned their own Countries for Rapine, Murders, Theft and Villanies.
+Do you not hear every Day how they upbraid each other with Infamy of
+Life, below the wildest Salvages? And shall we render Obedience to such
+a degenerate Race, who have no one human Virtue left, to distinguish
+them from the vilest Creatures? Will you, I say, suffer the Lash from
+such Hands?' _They all reply'd with one Accord_, 'No, No, No; _Caesar_
+has spoke like a great Captain, like a great King.'
+
+After this he would have proceeded, but was interrupted by a tall
+_Negro_, of some more Quality than the rest, his Name was _Tuscan_; who
+bowing at the Feet of _Caesar_, cry'd, 'My Lord, we have listen'd with
+Joy and Attention to what you have said; and, were we only Men, would
+follow so great a Leader through the World: But O! consider we are
+Husbands and Parents too, and have Things more dear to us than Life; our
+Wives and Children, unfit for Travel in those unpassable Woods,
+Mountains and Bogs. We have not only difficult Lands to overcome, but
+Rivers to wade, and Mountains to encounter; ravenous Beasts of
+Prey,'--_To this +Caesar+ reply'd_, 'That Honour was the first Principle
+in Nature, that was to be obey'd; but as no Man would pretend to that,
+without all the Acts of Virtue, Compassion, Charity, Love, Justice and
+Reason, he found it not inconsistent with that, to take equal Care of
+their Wives and Children as they would of themselves; and that he did
+not design, when he led them to Freedom, and glorious Liberty, that they
+should leave that better Part of themselves to perish by the Hand of the
+Tyrant's Whip: But if there were a Woman among them so degenerate from
+Love and Virtue, to chuse Slavery before the Pursuit of her Husband, and
+with the Hazard of her Life, to share with him in his Fortunes; that
+such a one ought to be abandoned, and left as a Prey to the common
+Enemy.'
+
+To which they all agreed--and bowed. After this, he spoke of the
+impassable Woods and Rivers; and convinced them, the more Danger the
+more Glory. He told them, that he had heard of one _Hannibal_, a great
+Captain, had cut his Way through Mountains of solid Rocks; and should a
+few Shrubs oppose them, which they could fire before 'em? No, 'twas a
+trifling Excuse to Men resolved to die, or overcome. As for Bogs, they
+are with a little Labour filled and harden'd; and the Rivers could be no
+Obstacle, since they swam by Nature, at least by Custom, from the first
+Hour of their Birth: That when the Children were weary, they must carry
+them by Turns, and the Woods and their own Industry would afford them
+Food. To this they all assented with Joy.
+
+_Tuscan_ then demanded, what he would do: He said he would travel
+towards the Sea, plant a new Colony, and defend it by their Valour; and
+when they could find a Ship, either driven by Stress of Weather, or
+guided by Providence that Way, they would seize it, and make it a Prize,
+till it had transported them to their own Countries: at least they
+should be made free in his Kingdom, and be esteem'd as his
+Fellow-Sufferers, and Men that had the Courage and the Bravery to
+attempt, at least, for Liberty; and if they died in the Attempt, it
+would be more brave, than to live in perpetual Slavery.
+
+They bow'd and kiss'd his Feet at this Resolution, and with one Accord
+vow'd to follow him to Death; and that Night was appointed to begin
+their March. They made it known to their Wives, and directed them to tie
+their Hamocks about their Shoulders, and under their Arms, like a Scarf
+and to lead their Children that could go, and carry those that could
+not. The Wives, who pay an entire Obedience to their Husbands, obey'd,
+and stay'd for 'em where they were appointed: The Men stay'd but to
+furnish themselves with what defensive Arms they could get; and all met
+at the Rendezvouz, where _Caesar_ made a new encouraging Speech to 'em
+and led 'em out.
+
+But as they could not march far that Night, on _Monday_ early, when the
+Overseers went to call 'em all together, to go to work, they were
+extremely surprized, to find not one upon the Place, but all fled with
+what Baggage they had. You may imagine this News was not only suddenly
+spread all over the Plantation, but soon reached the neighbouring ones;
+and we had by Noon about 600 Men, they call the Militia of the Country,
+that came to assist us in the Pursuit of the Fugitives: But never did
+one see so comical an Army march forth to War. The Men of any Fashion
+would not concern themselves, tho' it were almost the Common Cause; for
+such Revoltings are very ill Examples, and have very fatal Consequences
+oftentimes, in many Colonies: But they had a Respect for _Caesar_, and
+all Hands were against the _Parhamites_ (as they called those of
+_Parham-Plantation_) because they did not in the first Place love the
+Lord-Governor; and secondly, they would have it that _Caesar_ was ill
+used, and baffled with: and 'tis not impossible but some of the best in
+the Country was of his Council in this Flight, and depriving us of all
+the Slaves; so that they of the better sort would not meddle in the
+Matter. The Deputy-Governor, of whom I have had no great Occasion to
+speak, and who was the most fawning fair-tongu'd Fellow in the World,
+and one that pretended the most Friendship to _Caesar_, was now the only
+violent Man against him; and though he had nothing, and so need fear
+nothing, yet talked and looked bigger than any Man. He was a Fellow,
+whose Character is not fit to be mentioned with the worst of the Slaves:
+This Fellow would lead his Army forth to meet _Caesar_, or rather to
+pursue him. Most of their Arms were of those Sort of cruel Whips they
+call _Cat with nine Tails_; some had rusty useless Guns for Shew; others
+old Basket Hilts, whose Blades had never seen the Light in this Age; and
+others had long Staffs and Clubs. Mr. _Trefry_ went along, rather to be
+a Mediator than a Conqueror in such a Battle; for he foresaw and knew,
+if by fighting they put the _Negroes_ into Despair, they were a sort of
+sullen Fellows, that would drown or kill themselves before they would
+yield; and he advis'd that fair Means was best: But _Byam_ was one that
+abounded in his own Wit, and would take his own Measures.
+
+It was not hard to find these Fugitives; for as they fled, they were
+forced to fire and cut the Woods before 'em: So that Night or Day they
+pursu'd 'em by the Light they made, and by the Path they had cleared.
+But as soon as _Caesar_ found that he was pursu'd, he put himself in a
+Posture of Defence, placing all the Woman and Children in the Rear; and
+himself, with _Tuscan_ by his Side, or next to him, all promising to die
+or conquer. Encouraged thus, they never stood to parley, but fell on
+pell-mell upon the _English_, and killed some, and wounded a great many;
+they having Recourse to their Whips, as the best of their Weapons. And
+as they observed no Order, they perplexed the Enemy so sorely, with
+lashing 'em in the Eyes; and the Women and Children seeing their
+Husbands so treated, being of fearful and cowardly Dispositions, and
+hearing the _English_ cry out, _Yield and Live! Yield, and be Pardon'd!_
+they all ran in amongst their Husbands and Fathers, and hung about them,
+crying out, _Yield! Yield, and leave +Caesar+ to their Revenge_; that by
+Degrees the Slaves abandon'd _Caesar_, and left him only _Tuscan_ and his
+Heroick _Imoinda_, who grown as big as she was, did nevertheless press
+near her Lord, having a Bow and a Quiver full of poisoned Arrows, which
+she managed with such Dexterity, that she wounded several, and shot the
+Governor into the Shoulder; of which Wound he had like to have died, but
+that an _Indian_ Woman, his Mistress, sucked the Wound, and cleans'd it
+from the Venom: But however, he stir'd not from the Place till he had
+parly'd with _Caesar_, who he found was resolved to die fighting, and
+would not be taken; no more would _Tuscan_ or _Imoinda_. But he, more
+thirsting after Revenge of another Sort, than that of depriving him of
+Life, now made use of all his Art of Talking and Dissembling, and
+besought _Caesar_ to yield himself upon Terms which he himself should
+propose, and should be sacredly assented to, and kept by him. He told
+him, It was not that he any longer fear'd him, or could believe the
+Force of two Men, and a young Heroine, could overthrow all them, and
+with all the Slaves now on their Side also; but it was the vast Esteem
+he had for his Person, the Desire he had to serve so gallant a Man, and
+to hinder himself from the Reproach hereafter, of having been the
+Occasion of the Death of a Prince, whose Valour and Magnanimity deserved
+the Empire of the World. He protested to him, he looked upon his Action
+as gallant and brave, however tending to the Prejudice of his Lord and
+Master, who would by it have lost so considerable a Number of Slaves;
+that this Flight of his should be look'd on as a Heat of Youth, and a
+Rashness of a too forward Courage, and an unconsider'd Impatience of
+Liberty, and no more; and that he labour'd in vain to accomplish that
+which they would effectually perform as soon as any Ship arrived that
+would touch on his Coast: 'So that if you will be pleased
+(_continued he_) to surrender yourself, all imaginable Respect shall be
+paid you; and your Self, your Wife and Child, if it be born here, shall
+depart free out of our Land.' But _Caesar_ would hear of no Composition;
+though _Byam_ urged, if he pursued and went on in his Design, he would
+inevitably perish, either by great Snakes, wild Beasts or Hunger; and he
+ought to have Regard to his Wife, whose Condition requir'd Ease, and not
+the Fatigues of tedious Travel, where she could not be secured from
+being devoured. But _Caesar_ told him, there was no Faith in the White
+men, or the Gods they ador'd; who instructed them in Principles so
+false, that honest Men could not live amongst them; though no People
+profess'd so much, none perform'd so little: That he knew what he had to
+do when he dealt with Men of Honour; but with them a Man ought to be
+eternally on his Guard, and never to eat and drink with Christians,
+without his Weapon of Defence in his Hand; and, for his own Security,
+never to credit one Word they spoke. As for the Rashness and
+Inconsiderateness of his Action, he would confess the Governor is in the
+right; and that he was ashamed of what he had done in endeavouring to
+make those free, who were by Nature Slaves, poor wretched Rogues, fit to
+be used as Christian Tools; Dogs, treacherous and cowardly, fit for such
+Masters; and they wanted only but to be whipped into the Knowledge of
+the Christian Gods, to be the vilest of all creeping Things; to learn to
+worship such Deities as had not Power to make them just, brave, or
+honest: In fine, after a thousand Things of this Nature, not fit here to
+be recited, he told _Byam_, He had rather die, than live upon the same
+Earth with such Dogs. But _Trefry_ and _Byam_ pleaded and protested
+together so much, that _Trefry_ believing the Governor to mean what he
+said, and speaking very cordially himself, generously put himself into
+_Caesar's_ Hands, and took him aside, and persuaded him, even with Tears,
+to live, by surrendring himself, and to name his Conditions. _Caesar_ was
+overcome by his Wit and Reasons, and in Consideration of _Imoinda_; and
+demanding what he desired, and that it should be ratify'd by their Hands
+in Writing, because he had perceived that was the common Way of Contract
+between Man and Man amongst the Whites; all this was performed, and
+_Tuscan's_ Pardon was put in, and they surrender'd to the Governor, who
+walked peaceably down into the Plantation with them, after giving Order
+to bury their Dead. _Caesar_ was very much toil'd with the Bustle of the
+Day, for he had fought like a Fury; and what Mischief was done, he and
+_Tuscan_ performed alone; and gave their Enemies a fatal Proof, that
+they durst do any Thing, and fear'd no mortal Force.
+
+But they were no sooner arrived at the Place where all the Slaves
+receive their Punishments of Whipping, but they laid Hands on _Caesar_
+and _Tuscan_, faint with Heat and Toil; and surprizing them, bound them
+to two several Stakes, and whipped them in a most deplorable and inhuman
+Manner, rending the very Flesh from their Bones, especially _Caesar_, who
+was not perceived to make any Moan, or to alter his Face, only to roll
+his Eyes on the faithless Governor, and those he believed Guilty, with
+Fierceness and Indignation; and to complete his Rage, he saw every one
+of those Slaves who but a few Days before ador'd him as something more
+than Mortal, now had a Whip to give him some Lashes, while he strove not
+to break his Fetters; tho' if he had, it were impossible: but he
+pronounced a Woe and Revenge from his Eyes, that darted Fire, which was
+at once both aweful and terrible to behold.
+
+When they thought they were sufficiently revenged on him, they unty'd
+him, almost fainting with Loss of Blood, from a thousand Wounds all over
+his Body; from which they had rent his Clothes, and led him bleeding and
+naked as he was, and loaded him all over with Irons; and then rubb'd his
+Wounds, to complete their Cruelty, with _Indian_ Pepper, which had like
+to have made him raving mad; and, in this Condition made him so fast to
+the Ground, that he could not stir, if his Pains and Wounds would have
+given him Leave. They spared _Imoinda_, and did not let her see this
+Barbarity committed towards her Lord, but carried her down to _Parham_,
+and shut her up; which was not in Kindness to her, but for Fear she
+should die with the Sight, or miscarry, and then they should lose a
+young Slave, and perhaps the Mother.
+
+You must know, that when the News was brought on _Monday_ Morning, that
+_Caesar_ had betaken himself to the Woods, and carry'd with him all the
+_Negroes_, we were possess'd with extreme Fear, which no Persuasions
+could dissipate, that he would secure himself till Night, and then would
+come down and cut all our Throats. This Apprehension made all the
+Females of us fly down the River, to be secured; and while we were away,
+they acted this Cruelty; for I suppose I had Authority and Interest
+enough there, had I suspected any such Thing, to have prevented it: but
+we had not gone many Leagues, but the News overtook us, that _Caesar_ was
+taken and whipped liked a common Slave. We met on the River with Colonel
+_Martin_, a Man of great Gallantry, Wit, and Goodness, and whom I have
+celebrated in a Character of my new Comedy, by his own Name, in Memory
+of so brave a Man: He was wise and eloquent, and, from the Fineness of
+his Parts, bore a great Sway over the Hearts of all the Colony: He was a
+Friend to _Caesar_, and resented this false Dealing with him very much.
+We carried him back to _Parham_, thinking to have made an Accommodation;
+when he came, the first News we heard, was, That the Governor was dead
+of a Wound _Imoinda_ had given him; but it was not so well. But it
+seems, he would have the Pleasure of beholding the Revenge he took on
+_Caesar_; and before the cruel Ceremony was finished, he dropt down; and
+then they perceived the Wound he had on his Shoulder was by a venom'd
+Arrow, which, as I said, his _Indian_ Mistress healed by sucking the
+Wound.
+
+We were no sooner arrived, but we went up to the Plantation to see
+_Caesar_; whom we found in a very miserable and unexpressible Condition;
+and I have a thousand Times admired how he lived in so much tormenting
+Pain. We said all Things to him, that Trouble, Pity and Good-Nature
+could suggest, protesting our Innocency of the Fact, and our Abhorrence
+of such Cruelties; making a thousand Professions and Services to him,
+and begging as many Pardons for the Offenders, till we said so much,
+that he believed we had no Hand in his ill Treatment; but told us, He
+could never pardon _Byam_; as for _Trefry_, he confess'd he saw his
+Grief and Sorrow for his Suffering, which he could not hinder, but was
+like to have been beaten down by the very Slaves, for speaking in his
+Defence: But for _Byam_, who was their Leader, their Head--and should,
+by his Justice and Honour, have been an Example to 'em--for him, he
+wished to live to take a dire Revenge of him; and said, _It had been
+well for him, if he had sacrificed me, instead of giving me the
+comtemptible Whip._ He refused to talk much; but begging us to give him
+our Hands, he took them, and protested never to lift up his to do us any
+Harm. He had a great Respect for Colonel _Martin_, and always took his
+Counsel like that of a Parent; and assured him, he would obey him in any
+Thing but his Revenge on _Byam_: 'Therefore (_said he_) for his own
+Safety, let him speedly dispatch me; for if I could dispatch myself,
+I would not, till that Justice were done to my injured Person, and the
+Contempt of a Soldier: No, I would not kill myself, even after a
+Whipping, but will be content to live with that Infamy, and be pointed
+at by every grinning Slave, till I have completed my Revenge; and then
+you shall see, that _Oroonoko_ scorns to live with the Indignity that
+was put on _Caesar_.' All we could do, could get no more Words from him;
+and we took Care to have him put immediately into a healing Bath, to rid
+him of his Pepper, and ordered a Chirurgeon to anoint him with healing
+Balm, which he suffer'd, and in some Time he began to be able to walk
+and eat. We failed not to visit him every Day, and to that End had him
+brought to an Apartment at _Parham_.
+
+The Governor had no sooner recover'd, and had heard of the Menaces of
+_Caesar_, but he called his Council, who (not to disgrace them, or
+burlesque the Government there) consisted of such notorious Villains as
+_Newgate_ never transported; and, possibly, originally were such who
+understood neither the Laws of God or Man, and had no sort of Principles
+to make them worthy the Name of Men; but at the very Council-Table would
+contradict and fight with one another, and swear so bloodily, that 'twas
+terrible to hear and see 'em. (Some of 'em were afterwards hanged, when
+the _Dutch_ took Possession of the Place, others sent off in Chains.)
+But calling these special Rulers of the Nation together, and requiring
+their Counsel in this weighty Affair, they all concluded, that (damn
+'em) it might be their own Cases; and that _Caesar_ ought to be made an
+Example to all the _Negroes_, to fright 'em from daring to threaten
+their Betters, their Lords and Masters; and at this Rate no Man was safe
+from his own Slaves; and concluded, _nemine contradicente_, That _Caesar_
+should be hanged.
+
+_Trefry_ then thought it Time to use his Authority, and told _Byam_, his
+Command did not extend to his Lord's Plantation; and that _Parham_ was
+as much exempt from the Law as _White-Hall_; and that they ought no more
+to touch the Servants of the Lord--(who there represented the King's
+Person) than they could those about the King himself; and that _Parham_
+was a Sanctuary; and tho' his Lord were absent in Person, his Power was
+still in being there, which he had entrusted with him, as far as the
+Dominions of his particular Plantations reached, and all that belonged
+to it; the rest of the Country, as _Byam_ was Lieutenant to his Lord, he
+might exercise his Tyranny upon. _Trefry_ had others as powerful, or
+more, that interested themselves in _Caesar's_ Life, and absolutely said,
+he should be defended. So turning the Governor, and his wise Council,
+out of Doors, (for they sat at _Parham-House_) we set a Guard upon our
+Lodging-Place, and would admit none but those we called Friends to us
+and _Caesar_.
+
+The Governor having remain'd wounded at _Parham_, till his Recovery was
+completed, _Caesar_ did not know but he was still there, and indeed for
+the most Part, his Time was spent there: for he was one that loved to
+live at other Peoples Expence, and if he were a Day absent, he was ten
+present there; and us'd to play, and walk, and hunt, and fish with
+_Caesar_: So that _Caesar_ did not at all doubt, if he once recover'd
+Strength, but he should find an Opportunity of being revenged on him;
+though, after such a Revenge, he could not hope to live: for if he
+escaped the Fury of the _English_ Mobile, who perhaps would have been
+glad of the Occasion to have killed him, he was resolved not to survive
+his Whipping; yet he had some tender Hours, a repenting Softness, which
+he called his Fits of Cowardice, wherein he struggled with Love for the
+Victory of his Heart, which took Part with his charming _Imoinda_ there;
+but for the most Part, his Time was pass'd in melancholy Thoughts, and
+black Designs. He consider'd, if he should do this Deed, and die either
+in the Attempt, or after it, he left his lovely _Imoinda_ a Prey, or at
+best a Slave to the enraged Multitude; his great Heart could not endure
+that Thought: _Perhaps_ (said he) _she may be first ravish'd by every
+Brute; expos'd first to their nasty Lusts, and then a shameful Death_:
+No, he could not live a Moment under that Apprehension, too
+insupportable to be borne. These were his Thoughts, and his silent
+Arguments with his Heart, as he told us afterwards: So that now
+resolving not only to kill _Byam_, but all those he thought had enraged
+him; pleasing his great Heart with the fancy'd Slaughter he should make
+over the whole Face of the Plantation; he first resolved on a Deed,
+(that however horrid it first appear'd to us all) when we had heard his
+Reasons, we thought it brave and just. Being able to walk, and, as he
+believed, fit for the Execution of his great Design, he begg'd _Trefry_
+to trust him into the Air, believing a Walk would do him good; which was
+granted him; and taking _Imoinda_ with him, as he used to do in his more
+happy and calmer Days, he led her up into a Wood, where (after with a
+thousand Sighs, and long gazing silently on her Face, while Tears
+gush'd, in spite of him, from his Eyes) he told her his Design, first of
+killing her, and then his Enemies, and next himself, and the
+Impossibility of escaping, and therefore he told her the Necessity of
+dying. He found the heroick Wife faster pleading for Death, than he was
+to propose it, when she found his fix'd Resolution; and, on her Knees,
+besought him not to leave her a Prey to his Enemies. He (grieved to
+Death) yet pleased at her noble Resolution, took her up, and embracing
+of her with all the Passion and Languishment of a dying Lover, drew his
+Knife to kill this Treasure of his Soul, this Pleasure of his Eyes;
+while Tears trickled down his Cheeks, hers were smiling with Joy she
+should die by so noble a Hand, and be sent into her own Country (for
+that's their Notion of the next World) by him she so tenderly loved, and
+so truly ador'd in this: For Wives have a Respect for their Husbands
+equal to what any other People pay a Deity; and when a Man finds any
+Occasion to quit his Wife, if he love her, she dies by his Hand; if not,
+he sells her, or suffers some other to kill her. It being thus, you may
+believe the Deed was soon resolv'd on; and 'tis not to be doubted, but
+the parting, the eternal Leave-taking of two such Lovers, so greatly
+born, so sensible, so beautiful, so young, and so fond, must be very
+moving, as the Relation of it was to me afterwards.
+
+All that Love could say in such Cases, being ended, and all the
+intermitting Irresolutions being adjusted, the lovely, young and ador'd
+Victim lays herself down before the Sacrificer; while he, with a Hand
+resolved, and a Heart-breaking within, gave the fatal Stroke, first
+cutting her Throat, and then severing her yet smiling Face from that
+delicate Body, pregnant as it was with the Fruits of tenderest Love. As
+soon as he had done, he laid the Body decently on Leaves and Flowers, of
+which he made a Bed, and conceal'd it under the same Cover-lid of
+Nature; only her Face he left yet bare to look on: But when he found she
+was dead, and past all Retrieve, never more to bless him with her Eyes,
+and soft Language, his Grief swell'd up to Rage; he tore, he rav'd, he
+roar'd like some Monster of the Wood, calling on the lov'd Name of
+_Imoinda_. A thousand Times he turned the fatal Knife that did the Deed
+towards his own Heart, with a Resolution to go immediately after her;
+but dire Revenge, which was now a thousand Times more fierce in his Soul
+than before, prevents him; and he would cry out, 'No, since I have
+sacrific'd _Imoinda_ to my Revenge, shall I lose that Glory which I have
+purchased so dear, as at the Price of the fairest, dearest, softest
+Creature that ever Nature made? No, no!' Then at her Name Grief would
+get the Ascendant of Rage, and he would lie down by her Side, and water
+her Face with Showers of Tears, which never were wont to fall from those
+Eyes; and however bent he was on his intended Slaughter, he had not
+Power to stir from the Sight of this dear Object, now more beloved, and
+more ador'd than ever.
+
+He remained in this deplorable Condition for two Days, and never rose
+from the Ground where he had made her sad Sacrifice; at last rouzing
+from her Side, and accusing himself with living too long, now _Imoinda_
+was dead, and that the Deaths of those barbarous Enemies were deferred
+too long, he resolved now to finish the great Work: but offering to
+rise, he found his Strength so decay'd, that he reeled to and fro, like
+Boughs assailed by contrary Winds; so that he was forced to lie down
+again, and try to summon all his Courage to his Aid. He found his Brains
+turned round, and his Eyes were dizzy, and Objects appear'd not the same
+to him they were wont to do; his Breath was short, and all his Limbs
+surpriz'd with a Faintness he had never felt before. He had not eat in
+two Days, which was one Occasion of his Feebleness, but Excess of Grief
+was the greatest; yet still he hoped he should recover Vigour to act his
+Design, and lay expecting it yet six Days longer; still mourning over
+the dead Idol of his Heart, and striving every Day to rise, but could
+not.
+
+In all this time you may believe we were in no little Affliction for
+_Caesar_ and his Wife; some were of Opinion he was escaped, never to
+return; others thought some Accident had happened to him: But however,
+we fail'd not to send out a hundred People several Ways, to search for
+him. A Party of about forty went that Way he took, among whom was
+_Tuscan_, who was perfectly reconciled to _Byam_: They had not gone
+very far into the Wood, but they smelt an unusual Smell, as of a dead
+Body; for Stinks must be very noisom, that can be distinguish'd among
+such a Quantity of natural Sweets, as every Inch of that Land produces:
+so that they concluded they should find him dead, or some body that was
+so; they pass'd on towards it, as loathsom as it was, and made such
+rustling among the Leaves that lie thick on the Ground, by continual
+falling, that _Caesar_ heard he was approach'd; and though he had, during
+the Space of these eight Days, endeavour'd to rise, but found he wanted
+Strength, yet looking up, and seeing his Pursuers, he rose, and reel'd
+to a neighbouring Tree, against which he fix'd his Back; and being
+within a dozen Yards of those that advanc'd and saw him, he call'd out
+to them, and bid them approach no nearer, if they would be safe. So that
+they stood still, and hardly believing their Eyes, that would persuade
+them that it was _Caesar_ that spoke to them, so much he was alter'd;
+they ask'd him, what he had done with his Wife, for they smelt a Stink
+that almost struck them dead? He pointing to the dead Body, sighing,
+cry'd, _Behold her there._ They put off the Flowers that cover'd her,
+with their Sticks, and found she was kill'd, and cry'd out, _Oh,
+Monster! that hast murder'd thy Wife._ Then asking him, why he did so
+cruel a Deed? He reply'd, He had no Leisure to answer impertinent
+Questions: 'You may go back (_continued he_) and tell the faithless
+Governor, he may thank Fortune that I am breathing my last; and that my
+Arm is too feeble to obey my Heart, in what it had design'd him': But
+his Tongue faultering, and trembling, he could scarce end what he was
+saying. The _English_ taking Advantage by his Weakness, cry'd, _Let us
+take him alive by all Means._ He heard 'em; and, as if he had reviv'd
+from a Fainting, or a Dream, he cried out, 'No, Gentlemen, you are
+deceived; you will find no more _Caesars_ to be whipt; no more find a
+Faith in me; Feeble as you think me, I have Strength yet left to secure
+me from a second Indignity.' They swore all anew; and he only shook his
+Head, and beheld them with Scorn. Then they cry'd out, _Who will venture
+on this single Man? Will nobody?_ They stood all silent, while _Caesar_
+replied, _Fatal will be the Attempt of the first Adventurer, let him
+assure himself_, (and, at that Word, held up his Knife in a menacing
+Posture:) _Look ye, ye faithless Crew_, said he, _'tis not Life I seek,
+nor am I afraid of dying_, (and at that Word, cut a Piece of Flesh from
+his own Throat, and threw it at 'em) _yet still I would live if I could,
+till I had perfected my Revenge: But, oh! it cannot be; I feel Life
+gliding from my Eyes and Heart; and if I make not haste, I shall fall a
+Victim to the shameful Whip._ At that, he rip'd up his own Belly, and
+took his Bowels and pull'd 'em out, with what Strength he could; while
+some, on their Knees imploring, besought him to hold his Hand. But when
+they saw him tottering, they cry'd out, _Will none venture on him?_ A
+bold _Englishman_ cry'd, _Yes, if he were the Devil_, (taking Courage
+when he saw him almost dead) and swearing a horrid Oath for his farewel
+to the World, he rush'd on him. _Caesar_ with his arm'd Hand, met him so
+fairly, as stuck him to the Heart, and he Fell dead at his feet.
+_Tuscan_ seeing that, cry'd out, _I love thee, O +Caesar+! and therefore
+will not let thee die, if possible_; and running to him, took him in his
+Arms; but, at the same time, warding a Blow that _Caesar_ made at his
+Bosom, he receiv'd it quite through his Arm; and _Caesar_ having not
+Strength to pluck the Knife forth, tho' he attempted it, _Tuscan_
+neither pull'd it out himself, nor suffer'd it to be pull'd out, but
+came down with it sticking in his Arm; and the Reason he gave for it,
+was, because the Air should not get into the Wound. They put their Hands
+a-cross, and carry'd _Caesar_ between six of 'em, fainting as he was, and
+they thought dead, or just dying; and they brought him to _Parham_, and
+laid him on a Couch, and had the Chirurgeon immediately to him, who
+dressed his Wounds, and sow'd up his Belly, and us'd Means to bring him
+to Life, which they effected. We ran all to see him; and, if before we
+thought him so beautiful a Sight, he was now so alter'd, that his Face
+was like a Death's-Head black'd over, nothing but Teeth and Eye-holes:
+For some Days we suffer'd no Body to speak to him, but caused Cordials
+to be poured down his Throat; which sustained his Life, and in six or
+seven Days he recovered his Senses: For, you must know, that Wounds are
+almost to a Miracle cur'd in the _Indies_; unless Wounds in the Legs,
+which they rarely ever cure.
+
+When he was well enough to speak, we talk'd to him, and ask'd him some
+Questions about his Wife, and the Reasons why he kill'd her; and he then
+told us what I have related of that Resolution, and of his Parting, and
+he besought us we would let him die, and was extremely afflicted to
+think it was possible he might live: He assur'd us, if we did not
+dispatch him, he would prove very fatal to a great many. We said all we
+could to make him live, and gave him new Assurances; but he begg'd we
+would not think so poorly of him, or of his Love to _Imoinda_, to
+imagine we could flatter him to Life again: But the Chirurgeon assur'd
+him he could not live, and therefore he need not fear. We were all (but
+_Caesar_) afflicted at this News, and the Sight was ghastly: His
+Discourse was sad; and the earthy Smell about him so strong, that I was
+persuaded to leave the Place for some time, (being my self but sickly,
+and very apt to fall into Fits of dangerous Illness upon any
+extraordinary Melancholy.) The Servants, and _Trefry_, and the
+Chirurgeons, promis'd all to take what possible Care they could of the
+Life of _Caesar_; and I, taking Boat, went with other Company to Colonel
+_Martin's_, about three Days Journey down the River. But I was no sooner
+gone, than the Governor taking _Trefry_, about some pretended earnest
+Business, a Day's Journey up the River, having communicated his Design
+to one _Banister_, a wild _Irish_ Man, one of the Council, a Fellow of
+absolute Barbarity, and fit to execute any Villany, but rich; he came up
+to _Parham_, and forcibly took _Caesar_, and had him carried to the same
+Post where he was whipp'd; and causing him to be ty'd to it, and a great
+Fire made before him, he told him he should die like a Dog, as he was.
+_Caesar_ replied, This was the first piece of Bravery that ever
+_Banister_ did, and he never spoke Sense till he pronounc'd that Word;
+and if he would keep it, he would declare, in the other World, that he
+was the only Man, of all the _Whites_, that ever he heard speak Truth.
+And turning to the Men that had bound him, he said, _My Friends, am I to
+die, or to be whipt?_ And they cry'd, _Whipt! no, you shall not escape
+so well._ And then he reply'd, smiling, _A Blessing on thee_; and
+assur'd them they need not tie him, for he would stand fix'd like a
+Rock, and endure Death so as should encourage them to die: _But if you
+whip me_ (said he) _be sure you tie me fast_.
+
+He had learn'd to take Tobacco; and when he was assur'd he should die,
+he desir'd they would give him a Pipe in his Mouth, ready lighted; which
+they did: And the Executioner came, and first cut off his Members, and
+threw them into the Fire; after that, with an ill-favour'd Knife, they
+cut off his Ears and his Nose, and burn'd them; he still smoak'd on, as
+if nothing had touch'd him; then they hack'd off one of his Arms, and
+still he bore up and held his Pipe; but at the cutting off the other
+Arm, his Head sunk, and his Pipe dropt, and he gave up the Ghost,
+without a Groan, or a Reproach. My Mother and Sister were by him all the
+While, but not suffer'd to save him; so rude and wild were the Rabble,
+and so inhuman were the Justices who stood by to see the Execution, who
+after paid dear enough for their Insolence. They cut _Caesar_ into
+Quarters, and sent them to several of the chief Plantations: One Quarter
+was sent to Colonel _Martin_; who refus'd it, and swore, he had rather
+see the Quarters of _Banister_, and the Governor himself, than those of
+_Caesar_, on his Plantations; and that he could govern his _Negroes_,
+without terrifying and grieving them with frightful Spectacles of a
+mangled King.
+
+
+Thus died this great Man, worthy of a better Fate, and a more sublime
+Wit than mine to write his Praise: Yet, I hope, the Reputation of my Pen
+is considerable enough to make his glorious Name to survive to all Ages,
+with that of the brave, the beautiful and the constant _Imoinda_.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: Oroonoko.
+
+
+p. 509 _Appendix. Oronooko: Epistle Dedicatory._ Richard Maitland,
+fourth Earl of Lauderdale (1653-95), eldest son of Charles, third Earl
+of Lauderdale by Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Richard Lauder of
+Halton, was born 20 June, 1653. Before his father succeeded to the
+Lauderdale title he was styled of Over-Gogar; after that event he
+was known as Lord Maitland. 9 October, 1678, he was sworn a Privy
+Councillor, and appointed Joint General of the Mint with his father.
+In 1681 he was made Lord Justice General, but deprived of that office
+three years later on account of suspected communications with his
+father-in-law, Argyll, who had fled to Holland in 1681. Maitland,
+however, was in truth a strong Jacobite, and refusing to accept the
+Revolution settlement became an exile with his King. He is said to have
+been present at the battle of the Boyne, 1 July, 1690. He resided for
+some time at St. Germains, but fell into disfavour, perhaps owing to the
+well-known protestant sympathies of his wife, Lady Agnes Campbell
+(1658-1734), second daughter of the fanatical Archibald, Earl of Argyll.
+From St. Germains Maitland retired to Paris, where he died in 1695. He
+had succeeded to the Earldom of Lauderdale 9 June, 1691, but was
+outlawed by the Court of Justiciary, 23 July, 1694. He left no issue.
+Lauderdale was the author of a verse translation of Virgil (8vo, 1718
+and 2 Vols., 12mo, 1737). Dryden, to whom he sent a MS. copy from Paris,
+states that whilst working on his own version he consulted this whenever
+a crux appeared in the Latin text. Lauderdale also wrote _A Memorial on
+the Estate of Scotland_ (about 1690), printed in Hooke's
+_Correspondence_ (Roxburghe Club), and there wrongly ascribed to the
+third Earl, his father.
+
+The Dedication only occurs in the first edition of _Oronooko_ (1688),
+of which I can trace but one copy. This is in the library of Mr. F. F.
+Norcross of Chicago, whose brother-in-law, Mr. Harold B. Wrenn, most
+kindly transcribed and transmitted to me the Epistle Dedicatory. It,
+unfortunately, arrived too late for insertion at p. 129.
+
+p. 130 _I gave 'em to the King's Theatre._ Sir Robert Howard and
+Dryden's heroic tragedy, _The Indian Queen_, was produced at the Theatre
+Royal in mid-January, 1663. It is a good play, but the extraordinary
+success it attained was in no small measure due to the excellence and
+magnificence of the scenic effects and mounting. 27 January, Pepys
+noticed that the streets adjacent to the theatre were 'full of coaches
+at the new play _The Indian Queen_, which for show, they say, exceeds
+_Henry VIII_.' On 1 February he himself found it 'indeed a most pleasant
+show'. The grandeur of the _mise en scene_ became long proverbial in
+theatrical history. Zempoalla, the Indian Queen, a fine role, was
+superbly acted by Mrs. Marshall, the leading tragedienne of the day. The
+feathered ornaments which Mrs. Behn mentions must have formed a quaint
+but doubtless striking addition to the actress's pseudo-classic attire.
+Bernbaum pictures 'Nell Gwynn[5] in the true costume of a Carib belle',
+a quite unfair deduction from Mrs. Behn's words.
+
+p. 168 _Osenbrigs._ More usually 'osnaburg', so named from Osnabrueck in
+North Germany, a kind of coarse linen made in this town. Narborough's
+Journal, 1669 (_An Account of Several Late Voyages_, 1694), speaks of
+'Cloth, Osenbrigs, Tobacco'. cf. _Pennsylvania Col. Records_ (1732):
+'That to each there be given a couple of Shirts, a Jackett, two pairs of
+trowsers of Oznabrigs.'
+
+p. 174 _as soon as the Governour arrived_. The Governor was Francis
+Willoughby, fifth Baron Willoughby of Parham (1613?-1666). He had
+arrived at Barbadoes, 29 April, 1650, and was received as Governor 7
+May, which same day he caused Charles II to be proclaimed. An ardent
+royalist, he was dispossessed by an Act of Parliament, 4 March, 1652,
+and summoned back to England. At the Restoration he was reinstated, and
+arrived the second time with full powers in Barbadoes, 10 August, 1663.
+About the end of July, 1666, he was lost at sea on board the good ship
+_Hope_.
+
+p. 177 _my Father . . . never arriv'd to possess the Honour design'd
+him._ Bernbaum, following the mistaken statement that Mrs. Behn's
+father, John Amis, was a barber, argues that a man in such a position
+could hardly have obtained so important a post, and if her 'father was
+not sent to Surinam, the only reason she gives for being there
+disappears.' However, since we know her father to have been no barber,
+but of good family, this line of discussion falls to the ground.
+
+p. 180 _Brother to Harry Martin the great Oliverian._ Henry, or Harry,
+and George Marten were the two sons of Sir Henry Marten (_ob._ 1641)
+and his first wife, Elizabeth, who died 19 June, 1618. For the elder
+brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note Vol. I, p. 457.
+
+p. 193 _The Deputy Governor._ William Byam was 'Lieutenant General of
+Guiana and Governor of Willoughby Land', 1661-7. Even previously to this
+he had gained no little influence and power in these colonies. He headed
+the forces that defended Surinam in 1667 against the Dutch Admiral
+Crynsens, who, however, proved victorious.
+
+p. 198 _my new Comedy. The Younger Brother; or, The Amorous Jilt_,
+posthumously produced under the auspices of, and with some alterations
+by, Charles Gildon at Drury Lane in 1696. George Marteen, acted by
+Powell, is the young and gallant hero of the comedy.
+
+p. 200 _his Council_. In _The Widow Ranter_ Mrs. Behn draws a vivid
+picture of these deboshed ruffians.
+
+p. 207 _one Banister_. Sergeant Major James Banister being, after
+Byam's departure in 1667, 'the only remaining eminent person' became
+Lieutenant-Governor. It was he who in 1668 made the final surrender of
+the colony. Later, having quarrelled with the Dutch he was imprisoned by
+them.
+
+    [Footnote 5: Nell Gwynne had no part in the play.]
+
+
+Cross-Reference from Critical Notes: _Oroonoko_
+
+Note to p. 180: For the elder brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note
+Vol. I, p. 457.
+
+  Vol. I, p. 457 note (referring to _The Roundheads_, V, ii):
+
+  p. 414 _Peters the first_, _Martin the Second_. Hugh Peters has been
+  noticed before. Henry Martin was an extreme republican, and at one
+  time even a Leveller. He was a commissioner of the High Court of
+  Justice and a regicide. At the Restoration he was imprisoned for
+  life and died at Chepstow Castle, 1681, aged seventy-eight. He was
+  notorious for profligacy and shamelessness, and kept a very seraglio
+  of mistresses.  [[The date "1681" is in the original.]]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+AGNES DE CASTRO.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+The 'sweet sentimental tragedy' of Agnes de Castro was founded by Mrs.
+Behn upon a work by Mlle S. B. de Brillac, _Agnes de Castro, nouvelle
+portugaise_ (1688), and various subsequent editions. In the same year
+(1688) as Mrs. Behn's _Agnes de Castro; or, The Force of Generous Blood_
+was published there appeared 'Two New Novels, i. _The Art of Making
+Love_.[1] ii. _The Fatal Beauty of Agnes de Castro_: Taken out of the
+History of Portugal. Translated from the French by P. B. G.[2] For
+R. Bentley' (12mo). Each has a separate title page. Bellon's version
+does not differ materially from Mrs. Behn, but she far exceeds him in
+spirit and niceness of style.
+
+So much legend has surrounded the romantic history of the beautiful Ines
+de Castro that it is impossible fully to elucidate every detail of her
+life. Born in the early years of the fourteenth century, she was the
+daughter of Pedro Fernandez de Castro, major domo to Alphonso XI of
+Castille. She accompanied her relative, Dona Constanca Manuel, daughter
+to the Duke of Penafiel, to the court of Alphonso IV of Portugal when
+this lady was to wed the Infante Don Pedro. Here Ines excited the
+fondest love in Pedro's heart and the passion was reciprocated. She bore
+him several children, and there can be no doubt that Dona Constanca was
+madly jealous of her husband's amour with her fair friend. 13 November,
+1345, Constanca died, and Pedro immediately married his mistress at
+Braganza in the presence of the Bishop of Guarda. Their nuptials were
+kept secret, and the old King kept pressing his son to take a wife.
+Before long his spies found out the reason of the Infante's constant
+refusals; and, beside himself with rage, he watched an opportunity
+whilst Pedro, on a great hunting expedition, was absent from Coimbra
+where they resided, and had Ines cruelly assassinated 7 January, 1355.
+The grief of Pedro was terrible, he plunged the country into civil war,
+and it was only by the tenderest solicitations of his mother and the
+authority of several holy monks and bishops that he was restrained from
+taking a terrible revenge upon his father. Alphonso died, his power
+curtailed, his end unhappy, May, 1357.
+
+A very literature has grown up around the lovely Ines, and many more
+than a hundred items of interest could be enumerated. The best authority
+is J. de Araujo, whose monumental _Bibliographia Inesiana_ was published
+in 1897. Mrs. Behn's novel was immensely popular and is included, with
+some unnecessary moral observations as preface, in Mrs. Griffith's _A
+Collection of Novels_ (1777), Vol. III, which has a plate illustrating
+the tale. It was turned into French by Marie-Genevieve-Charlotte Tiroux
+d' Arconville (1720-1805), wife of a councillor of the Parliament, an
+aimable blue-stocking who devoted her life wholly to literature, and
+translated freely from English. This work is to be found in _Romans (les
+deux premiers . . . tires des Lettres Persanes . . . par M. Littleton et
+le dernier . . . d'un Recueil de Romans . . . de Madame Behn) traduits
+de l' Anglois_, (Amsterdam, 1761.) It occurs again in _Melanges de
+Litterature_ (12mo, 1775, etc.), Vol. VI.
+
+A tragedy, _Agnes de Castro_, written by that philosophical lady,
+Catherine Trotter (afterwards Cockburn), at the early age of sixteen,
+and produced at the Theatre Royal, 1696, with Powell, Verbruggen, Mrs.
+Rogers in the principal parts, is directly founded upon Mrs. Behn. It is
+a mediocre play, and the same can even more truly be said of Mallet's
+cold _Elvira_ (1763). This was acted, however, with fair success
+thirteen times. Garrick played Don Pedro, his last original part, and
+Mrs. Cibber Elvira. Such dull exercises as C. Symmons, _Inez, a tragedy_
+(1796), and _Ignez de Castro_, a tragedy in verse, intended for _Hoad's
+Magazine_ call for no comment.
+
+There is a French play by Lamotte on the subject of Ines de Castro,
+which was first produced 6 April, 1723. Voltaire found the first four
+acts execrable and laughed consumedly. The fifth was so tender and true
+that he melted into tears. In Italian we have, from the pen of
+Bertoletti, _Inez de Castro_, tragedia, Milano, 1826.
+
+In Spanish and Portuguese there are, of course, innumerable poems,
+treaties, tragedies, studies, romances. Lope de Vega wrote _Dona Inez de
+Castro_, and the beautiful episode of Camoens is deservedly famous.
+Antonio Ferreira's splendid tragedy is well known. First published in
+_Comedias Famosas dos Doctores de Sa de Mirande_ (4to, 1622), it can
+also be read in _Poemas lusitanos_ (2 Vols., 8vo, Lisbon, 1771). Domingo
+dos Reis Quita wrote a drama, _Ignez de Castro_, a translation of which,
+by Benjamin Thompson, was published in 1800. There is also a play _Dona
+Ignez de Castro_, by Nicolas Luiz, which was Englished by John Adamson,
+whose version was printed at Newcastle, 1808.
+
+    [Footnote 1: Mr. Arundell Esdaile in his _Bibliography of Fiction_
+    (_printed before 1740_) erroneously identifies this amusing little
+    piece with Mrs. Behn's _The Lover's Watch_. It is, however, quite
+    another thing, dealing with a pseudo-Turkish language of love.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: i.e., Peter Bellon, Gent. Bellon was an assiduous
+    hackney writer and translator of the day. He has also left one
+    comedy, _The Mock Duellist; or, The French Valet_ (4to, 1675).]
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF _AGNES de CASTRO_.
+
+
+Tho' Love, all soft and flattering, promises nothing but Pleasures; yet
+its Consequences are often sad and fatal. It is not enough to be in
+love, to be happy; since Fortune, who is capricious, and takes delight
+to trouble the Repose of the most elevated and virtuous, has very little
+respect for passionate and tender Hearts, when she designs to produce
+strange Adventures.
+
+Many Examples of past Ages render this Maxim certain; but the Reign of
+_Don Alphonso_ the IVth, King of _Portugal_, furnishes us with one, the
+most extraordinary that History can produce.
+
+He was the Son of that _Don Denis_, who was so successful in all his
+Undertakings, that it was said of him, that he was capable of performing
+whatever he design'd, (and of _Isabella_, a Princess of eminent Virtue)
+who when he came to inherit a flourishing and tranquil State,
+endeavour'd to establish Peace and Plenty in abundance in his Kingdom.
+
+And to advance this his Design, he agreed on a Marriage between his Son
+_Don Pedro_ (then about eight Years of Age) and _Bianca_, Daughter of
+_Don Pedro_, King of _Castile_; and whom the young Prince married when
+he arriv'd to his sixteenth Year.
+
+_Bianca_ brought nothing to _Coimbra_ but Infirmities and very few
+Charms. _Don Pedro_, who was full of Sweetness and Generosity, lived
+nevertheless very well with her; but those Distempers of the Princess
+degenerating into the Palsy, she made it her request to retire, and at
+her Intercession the Pope broke the Marriage, and the melancholy
+Princess conceal'd her Languishment in a solitary Retreat: And _Don
+Pedro_, for whom they had provided another Match, married _Constantia
+Manuel_, Daughter of _Don John Manuel_, a Prince of the Blood of
+_Castile_, and famous for the Enmity he had to his King.
+
+_Constantia_ was promised to the King of _Castile_; but the King not
+keeping his word, they made no Difficulty of bestowing her on a young
+Prince, who was one Day to reign over a number of fine Provinces. He was
+but five and twenty years of Age, and the Man of all _Spain_ that had
+the best Fashion and Grace: and with the most advantageous Qualities of
+the Body he possest those of the Soul, and shewed himself worthy in all
+things of the Crown that was destin'd for him.
+
+The Princess _Constantia_ had Beauty, Wit, and Generosity, in as great a
+measure as 'twas possible for a Woman to be possest with; her Merit
+alone ought to have attach'd _Don Pedro_, eternally to her; and
+certainly he had for her an Esteem, mix'd with so great a Respect, as
+might very well pass for Love with those that were not of a nice and
+curious Observation: but alas! his real Care was reserved for another
+Beauty.
+
+_Constantia_ brought into the World, the first Year after her Marriage,
+a Son, who was called _Don Louis_: but it scarce saw the Light, and dy'd
+almost as soon as born. The loss of this little Prince sensibly touched
+her, but the Coldness she observ'd in the Prince her Husband, went yet
+nearer her Heart; for she had given her self absolutely up to her Duty,
+and had made her Tenderness for him her only Concern: But puissant
+Glory, which ty'd her so entirely to the Interest of the Prince of
+_Portugal_, open'd her Eyes upon his Actions, where she observ'd nothing
+in his Caresses and Civilities that was natural, or could satisfy her
+delicate Heart.
+
+At first she fancy'd her self deceiv'd, but time having confirmed her in
+what she fear'd, she sighed in secret; yet had that Consideration for
+the Prince, as not to let him see her Disorder: and which nevertheless
+she could not conceal from _Agnes de Castro_, who lived with her, rather
+as a Companion, than a Maid of Honour, and whom her Friendship made her
+infinitely distinguish from the rest.
+
+This Maid, so dear to the Princess, very well merited the Preference her
+Mistress gave her; she was beautiful to excess, wise, discreet, witty,
+and had more Tenderness for _Constantia_ than she had for her self,
+having quitted her Family, which was illustrious, to give her self
+wholly to the Service of the Princess, and to follow her into
+_Portugal_. It was into the Bosom of this Maid, that the Princess
+unladed her first Moans; and the charming _Agnes_ forgot nothing that
+might give ease to her afflicted Heart.
+
+Nor was _Constantia_ the only Person who complained of _Don Pedro_:
+Before his Divorce from _Bianca_, he had expressed some Care and
+Tenderness for _Elvira Gonzales_, Sister to Don _Alvaro Gonzales_,
+Favourite to the King of _Portugal_; and this Amusement in the young
+Years of the Prince, had made a deep Impression on _Elvira_, who
+flatter'd her Ambition with the Infirmities of _Bianca_. She saw, with a
+secret Rage, _Constantia_ take her place, who was possest with such
+Charms, that quite divested her of all Hopes.
+
+Her Jealousy left her not idle, she examined all the Actions of the
+Prince, and easily discover'd the little Regard he had for the Princess;
+but this brought him not back to her. And it was upon very good grounds
+that she suspected him to be in love with some other Person, and
+possessed with a new Passion; and which she promised herself, she would
+destroy as soon as she could find it out. She had a Spirit altogether
+proper for bold and hazardous Enterprizes; and the Credit of her Brother
+gave her so much Vanity, as all the Indifference of the Prince was not
+capable of humbling.
+
+The Prince languished, and concealed the Cause with so much Care, that
+'twas impossible for any to find it out. No publick Pleasures were
+agreeable to him, and all Conversations were tedious; and it was
+Solitude alone that was able to give him any ease.
+
+This Change surprized all the World. The King, who loved his Son very
+tenderly, earnestly pressed him to know the Reason of his Melancholy;
+but the Prince made no answer, but only this, That it was the effect of
+his Temper.
+
+But Time ran on, and the Princess was brought to bed of a second Son,
+who liv'd, and was called _Fernando_. _Don Pedro_ forc'd himself a
+little to take part in the publick Joy, so that they believ'd his Humour
+was changing; but this Appearance of a Calm endur'd not long, and he
+fell back again into his black Melancholy.
+
+The artful _Elvira_ was incessantly agitated in searching out the
+Knowledge of this Secret. Chance wrought for her; and, as she was
+walking, full of Indignation and Anger, in the Garden of the Palace of
+_Coimbra_, she found the Prince of _Portugal_ sleeping in an obscure
+Grotto.
+
+Her Fury could not contain it self at the sight of this loved Object,
+she roll'd her Eyes upon him, and perceived in spite of Sleep, that some
+Tears escaped his Eyes; the Flame which burnt yet in her Heart, soon
+grew soft and tender there: But oh! she heard him sigh, and after that
+utter these words, _Yes, Divine +Agnes+, I will sooner die than let you
+know it: +Constantia+ shall have nothing to reproach me with._ _Elvira_
+was enraged at this Discourse, which represented to her immediately, the
+same moment, _Agnes de Castro_ with all her Charms; and not at all
+doubting, but it was she who possest the Heart of _Don Pedro_, she found
+in her Soul more Hatred for this fair Rival, than Tenderness for him.
+
+The Grotto was not a fit Place to make Reflections in, or to form
+Designs. Perhaps her first Transports would have made her waken him, if
+she had not perceived a Paper lying under his Hand, which she softly
+seiz'd on; and that she might not be surprized in the reading it, she
+went out of the Garden with as much haste as confusion.
+
+When she was retired to her Apartment, she open'd the Paper, trembling,
+and found in it these Verses, writ by the Hand of _Don Pedro_; and
+which, in appearance, he had newly then compos'd.
+
+  _In vain, Oh! Sacred Honour, you debate
+    The mighty Business in my Heart:
+  Love! Charming Love! rules all my Fate;
+    Interest and Glory claim no part.
+  The God, sure of his Victory, triumphs there,
+  And will have nothing in his Empire share._
+
+  _In vain, Oh! Sacred Duty, you oppose;
+    In vain, your Nuptial Tye you plead:
+  Those forc'd Devoirs LOVE overthrows,
+    And breaks the Vows he never made.
+  Fixing his fatal Arrows every where,
+  I burn and languish in a soft Despair._
+
+  _Fair Princess, you to whom my Faith is due;
+    Pardon the Destiny that drags me on:
+  'Tis not my fault my Heart's untrue,
+    I am compell'd to be undone.
+  My Life is yours, I gave it with my Hand,
+  But my Fidelity I can't command._
+
+_Elvira_ did not only know the Writing of _Don Pedro_, but she knew also
+that he could write Verses. And seeing the sad Part which _Constantia_
+had in these which were now fallen into her hands, she made no scruple
+of resolving to let the Princess see 'em: but that she might not be
+suspected, she took care not to appear in this Business her self; and
+since it was not enough for _Constantia_ to know that the Prince did not
+love her, but that she must know also that he was a Slave to _Agnes de
+Castro_, _Elvira_ caused these few Verses to be written in an unknown
+Hand, under those writ by the Prince.
+
+  _Sleep betrayed th' unhappy Lover,
+    While Tears were streaming from his Eyes;
+  His heedless Tongue without disguise,
+    The Secret did discover:
+  The Language of his Heart declare,
+  That +Agnes'+ Image triumphs there._
+
+_Elvira_ regarded neither Exactness nor Grace in these Lines: And if
+they had but the effect she design'd, she wished no more.
+
+Her Impatience could not wait till the next day to expose them: she
+therefore went immediately to the Lodgings of the Princess, who was then
+walking in the Garden of the Palace; and passing without resistance,
+even to her Cabinet, she put the Paper into a Book, in which the
+Princess used to read, and went out again unseen, and satisfy'd with her
+good Fortune.
+
+As soon as _Constantia_ was return'd, she enter'd into her Cabinet, and
+saw the Book open, and the Verses lying in it, which were to cost her so
+dear: She soon knew the Hand of the Prince which was so familiar to her;
+and besides the Information of what she had always fear'd, she
+understood it was _Agnes de Castro_ (whose Friendship alone was able to
+comfort her in her Misfortunes) who was the fatal Cause of it: she read
+over the Paper an hundred times, desiring to give her Eyes and Reason
+the Lye; but finding but too plainly she was not deceiv'd, she found her
+Soul possest with more Grief than Anger: when she consider'd, as much in
+love as the Prince was, he had kept his Torment secret. After having
+made her moan, without condemning him, the Tenderness she had for him,
+made her shed a Torrent of Tears, and inspir'd her with a Resolution of
+concealing her Resentment.
+
+She would certainly have done it by a Virtue extraordinary, if the
+Prince, who missing his Verses when he waked, and fearing they might
+fall into indiscreet Hands, had not enter'd the Palace, all troubled
+with his Loss; and hastily going into _Constantia's_ Apartment, saw her
+fair Eyes all wet with Tears, and at the same instant cast his own on
+the unhappy Verses that had escaped from his Soul, and now lay before
+the Princess.
+
+He immediately turned pale at this sight, and appear'd so mov'd, that
+the generous Princess felt more Pain than he did: 'Madam, _said he_,
+(infinitely alarm'd) from whom had you that Paper? It cannot come but
+from the Hand of some Person, _answer'd_ Constantia, who is an Enemy
+both to your Repose and mine. It is the Work, Sir, of your own Hand; and
+doubtless the Sentiment of your Heart. But be not surprized, and do not
+fear; for if my Tenderness should make it pass for a Crime in you, the
+same Tenderness which nothing is able to alter, shall hinder me from
+complaining.'
+
+The Moderation and Calmness of _Constantia_, served only to render the
+Prince more asham'd and confus'd. _How generous are you, Madam_,
+(pursu'd he) _and how unfortunate am I!_ Some Tears accompany'd his
+Words, and the Princess, who lov'd him with extreme Ardour, was so
+sensibly touch'd, that it was a good while before she could utter a
+word. _Constantia_ then broke silence, and shewing him what _Elvira_ had
+caus'd to be written: _You are betray'd, Sir_, (added she) _you have
+been heard speak, and your Secret is known._ It was at this very moment
+that all the Forces of the Prince abandon'd him; and his Condition was
+really worthy Compassion: He could not pardon himself the involuntary
+Crime he had committed, in exposing of the lovely and the innocent
+_Agnes_. And tho' he was convinced of the Virtue and Goodness of
+_Constantia_, the Apprehensions that he had, that this modest and
+prudent Maid might suffer by his Conduct, carry'd him beyond all
+Consideration.
+
+The Princess, who heedfully survey'd him, saw so many Marks of Despair
+in his Face and Eyes, that she was afraid of the Consequences; and
+holding out her Hand, in a very obliging manner to him, she said,
+'I promise you, Sir, I will never more complain of you, and that _Agnes_
+shall always be very dear to me; you shall never hear me make you any
+Reproaches: And since I cannot possess your Heart, I will content myself
+with endeavouring to render myself worthy of it.' _Don Pedro_, more
+confus'd and dejected than before he had been, bent one of his Knees at
+the feet of _Constantia_, and with respect kiss'd that fair kind Hand
+she had given him, and perhaps forgot _Agnes_ for a moment.
+
+But Love soon put a stop to all the little Advances of _Hymen_; the
+fatal Star that presided over the Destiny of _Don Pedro_ had not yet
+vented its Malignity; and one moment's sight of _Agnes_ gave new Force
+to his Passion.
+
+The Wishes and Desires of this charming Maid had no part in this
+Victory; her Eyes were just, tho' penetrating, and they searched not in
+those of the Prince, what they had a desire to discover to her.
+
+As she was never far from _Constantia_, _Don Pedro_ was no sooner gone
+out of the Closet, but _Agnes_ enter'd; and finding the Princess all
+pale and languishing in her Chair, she doubted not but there was some
+sufficient Cause for her Affliction: she put herself in the same Posture
+the Prince had been in before, and expressing an Inquietude, full of
+Concern; 'Madam, _said she_, by all your Goodness, conceal not from me
+the Cause of your Trouble. Alas, _Agnes_, _reply'd the Princess_, what
+would you know? And what should I tell you? The Prince, the Prince, my
+dearest Maid, is in love; the Hand that he gave me, was not a Present of
+his Heart; and for the Advantage of this Alliance, I must become the
+Victim of it--What! the Prince in Love! (_reply'd +Agnes+, with an
+Astonishment mix'd with Indignation_) What Beauty can dispute the Empire
+over a Heart so much your due? Alas, Madam, all the Respect I owe him,
+cannot hinder me from murmuring against him. Accuse him of nothing,
+(_interrupted_ Constantia) he does what he can; and I am more oblig'd to
+him for desiring to be faithful, than if I possest his real Tenderness.
+It is not enough to fight, but to overcome; and the Prince does more in
+the Condition wherein he is, than I ought reasonably to hope for: In
+fine, he is my Husband, and an agreeable one; to whom nothing is
+wanting, but what I cannot inspire; that is, a Passion which would have
+made me but too happy. Ah! Madam, (_cry'd out +Agnes+, transported with
+her Tenderness for the Princess_) he is a blind and stupid Prince, who
+knows not the precious Advantages he possesses. He must surely know
+something, (_reply'd the Princess modestly._) But, Madam, (_reply'd
++Agnes+_) Is there any thing, not only in _Portugal_, but in all
+_Spain_, that can compare with you? And without considering the charming
+Qualities of your Person, can we enough admire those of your Soul? My
+dear _Agnes_, (_interrupted +Constantia+, sighing_) she who robs me of
+my Husband's Heart, has but too many Charms to plead his Excuse; since
+it is thou, Child, whom Fortune makes use of, to give me the killing
+Blow. Yes, _Agnes_, the Prince loves thee; and the Merit I know thou art
+possest of, puts bounds to my Complaints, without suffering me to have
+the least Resentment.'
+
+The delicate _Agnes_ little expected to hear what the Princess told her:
+Thunder would have less surpriz'd, and less oppres'd her. She remain'd a
+long time without speaking; but at last, fixing her Looks all frightful
+on _Constantia_, 'What say you, Madam? (_cry'd she_) And what Thoughts
+have you of me? What, that I should betray you? And coming hither only
+full of Ardor to be the Repose of your Life, do I bring a fatal Poison
+to afflict it? What Detestation must I have for the Beauty they find in
+me, without aspiring to make it appear? And how ought I to curse the
+unfortunate Day, on which I first saw the Prince?--But, Madam, it cannot
+be me whom Heaven has chosen to torment you, and to destroy all your
+Tranquillity: No, it cannot be so much my Enemy, to put me to so great a
+Tryal. And if I were that odious Person, there is no Punishment, to
+which I would not condemn my self. It is _Elvira_, Madam, the Prince
+loves, and loved before his Marriage with you, and also before his
+Divorce from _Bianca_; and somebody has made an indiscreet Report to you
+of this Intrigue of his Youth: But, Madam, what was in the time of
+_Bianca_, is nothing to you. It is certain that _Don Pedro_ loves you,
+(_answer'd the Princess_) and I have Vanity enough to believe, that,
+none besides your self could have disputed his Heart with me: But the
+Secret is discover'd, and _Don Pedro_ has not disown'd it. What,
+(_interrupted +Agnes+, more surpriz'd than ever_) is it then from
+himself you have learned his Weakness?' The Princess then shew'd her the
+Verses, and there was never any Despair like to hers.
+
+While they were both thus sadly employ'd, both sighing, and both
+weeping, the impatient _Elvira_, who was willing to learn the Effect of
+her Malice, returned to the Apartment of the Princess, where she freely
+enter'd; even to the Cabinet where these unhappy Persons were: who all
+afflicted and troubled as they were, blushed at her approach, whose
+Company they did not desire: She had the Pleasure to see _Constantia_
+hide from her the Paper which had been the Cause of all their Trouble,
+and which the Princess had never seen, but for her Spite and Revenge;
+and to observe also in the Eyes of the Princess, and those of _Agnes_,
+an immoderate Grief: She staid in the Cabinet as long as it was
+necessary to be assur'd, that she had succeeded in her Design; but the
+Princess, who did not desire such a Witness of the Disorder in which she
+then was, pray'd to be left alone. _Elvira_ then went out of the
+Cabinet, and _Agnes de Castro_ withdrew at the same time.
+
+It was in her own Chamber, that _Agnes_ examining more freely this
+Adventure, found it as cruel as Death. She loved _Constantia_ sincerely,
+and had not till then any thing more than an Esteem, mixt with
+Admiration, for the Prince of _Portugal_; which indeed, none could
+refuse to so many fine Qualities. And looking on her self as the most
+unfortunate of her Sex, as being the Cause of all the Sufferings of the
+Princess, to whom she was obliged for the greatest Bounties, she spent
+the whole Night in Tears and Complaints, sufficient to have reveng'd
+_Constantia_ for all the Griefs she made her suffer.
+
+The Prince, on his side, was in no great Tranquillity; the Generosity of
+his Princess increas'd his Remorse, without diminishing his Love: he
+fear'd, and with reason, that those who were the occasion of
+_Constantia's_ seeing those Verses, should discover his Passion to the
+King, from whom he hoped for no Indulgence: and he would most willingly
+have given his Life, to have been free from this Extremity.
+
+In the mean time the afflicted Princess languished in a most deplorable
+Sadness; she found nothing in those who were the Cause of her
+Misfortunes, but things fitter to move her Tenderness than her Anger: It
+was in vain that Jealousy strove to combat the Inclination she had to
+love her fair Rival; nor was there any occasion of making the Prince
+less dear to her: and she felt neither Hatred, nor so much as
+Indifference for innocent _Agnes_.
+
+While these three disconsolate Persons abandon'd themselves to their
+Melancholy, _Elvira_, not to leave her Vengeance imperfect, study'd in
+what manner she might bring it to the height of its Effects. Her
+Brother, on whom she depended, shew'd her a great deal of Friendship,
+and judging rightly that the Love of _Don Pedro_ to _Agnes de Castro_
+would not be approved by the King, she acquainted _Don Alvaro_ her
+Brother with it, who was not ignorant of the Passion the Prince had once
+protested to have for his Sister. He found himself very much interested
+in this News, from a second Passion he had for _Agnes_; which the
+Business of his Fortune had hitherto hindred him from discovering: and
+he expected a great many Favours from the King, that might render the
+Effort of his Heart the more considerable.
+
+He hid not from his Sister this one thing, which he found difficult to
+conceal; so that she was now possest with a double Grief, to find
+_Agnes_ Sovereign of all the Hearts to which she had a pretension.
+
+_Don Alvaro_ was one of those ambitious Men, that are fierce without
+Moderation, and proud without Generosity; of a melancholy, cloudy
+Humour, of a cruel Inclination, and to effect his Ends, found nothing
+difficult or unlawful. Naturally he lov'd not the Prince, who, on all
+accounts, ought to have held the first Rank in the Heart of the King,
+which should have set bounds to the Favour of _Don Alvaro_; who when he
+knew the Prince was his Rival, his Jealousy increas'd his Hate of him:
+and he conjured _Elvira_ to employ all her Care, to oppose an Engagement
+that could not but be destructive to them both; she promised him, and he
+not very well satisfy'd, rely'd on her Address.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who had too lively a Representation within himself, of the
+Beauties and Grace of the Prince of _Portugal_, thought of nothing, but
+how to combat his Merits, he himself not being handsome, or well made:
+His Fashion was as disagreeable as his Humour, and _Don Pedro_ had all
+the Advantages that one Man may possibly have over another. In fine, all
+that _Don Alvaro_ wanted, adorn'd the Prince: but as he was the Husband
+of _Constantia_, and depended upon an absolute Father, and that _Don
+Alvaro_ was free, and Master of a good Fortune, he thought himself more
+assur'd of _Agnes_, and fixed his Hopes on that Thought.
+
+He knew very well, that the Passion of _Don Pedro_ could not but inspire
+a violent Anger in the Soul of the King. Industrious in doing ill, his
+first Business was to carry this unwelcome News to him. After he had
+given time to his Grief, and had compos'd himself to his Desire, he then
+besought the King to interest himself in his amorous Affair, and to be
+the Protector of his Person.
+
+Tho' _Don Alvaro_ had no other Merit to recommend him to the King, than
+a continual and blind Obedience to all his Commands; yet he had favour'd
+him with several Testimonies of his vast Bounty: and considering the
+Height to which the King's Liberality had rais'd him, there were few
+Ladies that would have refused his Alliance. The King assured him of the
+Continuation of his Friendship and Favour, and promised him, if he had
+any Authority, he would give him the charming _Agnes_.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, perfectly skilful in managing his Master, answer'd the
+King's last Bounties with a profound Submission. He had yet never told
+_Agnes_ what he felt for her; but he thought now he might make a publick
+Declaration of it, and sought all means to do it.
+
+The Gallantry which _Coimbra_ seem'd to have forgotten, began now to be
+awakened. The King to please _Don Alvaro_, under pretence of diverting
+_Constantia_, order'd some publick Sports, and commanded that every
+thing should be magnificent.
+
+Since the Adventure of the Verses, _Don Pedro_ endeavour'd to lay a
+constraint on himself, and to appear less troubled; but in his heart he
+suffer'd always alike: and it was not but with great uneasiness he
+prepar'd himself for the Tournament. And since he could not appear with
+the Colours of _Agnes_, he took those of his Wife, without Device, or
+any great Magnificence.
+
+_Don Pedro_ adorn'd himself with the Liveries of _Agnes de Castro_; and
+this fair Maid, who had yet found no Consolation from what the Princess
+had told her, had this new cause of being displeas'd.
+
+_Don Pedro_ appear'd in the List with an admirable Grace; and _Don
+Alvaro_, who looked on this Day as his own, appear'd there all shining
+with Gold, mix'd with Stones of Blue, which were the Colours of _Agnes_;
+and there were embroider'd all over his Equipage, flaming Hearts of Gold
+on blue Velvet, and Nets for the Snares of Love, with abundance of
+double _A's_; his Device was a Love coming out of a Cloud, with these
+Verses written underneath:
+
+  _Love from a Cloud breaks like the God of Day,
+  And to the World his Glories does display;
+  To gaze on charming Eyes, and make 'em know,
+  What to soft Hearts, and to his Power they owe._
+
+The Pride of _Don Alvaro_ was soon humbled at the feet of the Prince of
+_Portugal_, who threw him against the Ground, with twenty others, and
+carry'd alone the Glory of the Day. There was in the Evening a noble
+Assembly at _Constantia's_, where _Agnes_ would not have been, unless
+expresly commanded by the Princess. She appear'd there all negligent and
+careless in her Dress, but yet she appear'd all beautiful and charming.
+She saw, with disdain, her Name, and her Colours, worn by _Don Alvaro_,
+at a publick Triumph; and if her Heart was capable of any tender
+Motions, it was not for such a Man as he for whom her Delicacy destin'd
+them: She look'd on him with a Contempt, which did not hinder him from
+pressing so near, that there was a necessity for her to hear what he had
+to declare to her.
+
+She treated him not uncivilly, but her Coldness would have rebated the
+Courage of any but _Alvaro_. 'Madam, said he, (when he could be heard of
+none but herself) I have hitherto concealed the Passion you have
+inspired me with, fearing it should displease you; but it has committed
+a Violence on my Respect; and I could no longer conceal it from you.
+I never reflected on your Actions (answer'd _Agnes_ with all the
+Indifference of which she was capable) and if you think you offend me,
+you are in the wrong to make me perceive it. This Coldness is but an ill
+Omen for me (reply'd _Don Alvaro_) and if you have not found me out to
+be your Lover to-day, I fear you will never approve my Passion.'
+
+'Oh! what a time have you chosen to make it appear to me? (pursued
+_Agnes_.) Is it so great an Honour for me, that you must take such care
+to shew it to the World? And do you think that I am so desirous of
+Glory, that I must aspire to it by your Actions? If I must, you have
+very ill maintain'd it in the Tournament; and if it be that Vanity that
+you depend upon, you will make no great progress on a Soul that is not
+fond of Shame. If you were possest of all the Advantages, which the
+Prince has this day carried away, you yet ought to consider what you are
+going about; and it is not a Maid like me, who is touched with
+Enterprizes, without respect or permission.'
+
+The Favourite of the King was too proud to hear _Agnes_, without
+Indignation: but as he was willing to conceal it, and not offend her, he
+made not his Resentment appear; and considering the Observation she made
+on the Triumphs of _Don Pedro_, (which increased his Jealousies) 'If I
+have not overcome at the Tournament, reply'd he, I am not the less in
+love for being vanquish'd, nor less capable of Success on occasion.'
+
+They were interrupted here, but from that day, _Don Alvaro_, who had
+open'd the first Difficulties, kept no more his wonted Distance, but
+perpetually persecuted _Agnes_; yet, tho' he were protected by the King,
+that inspir'd in her never the more Consideration for him. _Don Pedro_
+was always ignorant by what means the Verses he had lost in the Garden,
+fell into the hands of _Constantia_. As the Princess appeared to him
+indulgent, he was only concerned for _Agnes_; and the love of _Don
+Alvaro_, which was then so well known, increas'd the Pain: and had he
+been possess'd of the Authority, he would not have suffer'd her to have
+been expos'd to the Persecutions of so unworthy a Rival. He was also
+afraid of the King's being advertised of his Passion, but he thought not
+at all of _Elvira_, nor apprehended any Malice from her Resentment.
+
+While she burnt with a Desire of destroying _Agnes_, against whom she
+vented all her Venom, she was never weary of making new Reports to her
+Brother, assuring him, that tho' they could not prove that _Agnes_ made
+any returns to the Tenderness of the Prince, yet that was the Cause of
+_Constantia's_ Grief: And, that if this Princess should die of it, _Don
+Pedro_ might marry _Agnes_. In fine, she so incens'd the jealous _Don
+Alvaro's_ Jealousy, that he could not hinder himself from running
+immediately to the King, with the discovery of all he knew, and all he
+guest, and who, he had the pleasure to find, was infinitely inrag'd at
+the News. 'My dear _Alvaro_, said the King, you shall instantly marry
+this dangerous Beauty: And let Possession assure your Repose and mine.
+If I have protected you on other Occasions, judge what a Service of so
+great an Importance for me, would make me undertake; and without any
+reserve, the Forces of this State are in your power, and almost any
+thing that I can give shall be assured you, so you render your self
+Master of the Destiny of _Agnes_.'
+
+_Don Alvaro_ pleas'd, and vain with his Master's Bounty, made use of all
+the Authority he gave him: He passionately lov'd _Agnes_, and would not,
+on the sudden, make use of Violence; but resolv'd with himself to employ
+all possible Means to win her fairly; yet if that fail'd, to have
+recourse to force, if she continued always insensible.
+
+While _Agnes de Castro_ (importun'd by his Assiduities, despairing at
+the Grief of _Constantia_, and perhaps made tender by those she had
+caus'd in the Prince of _Portugal_) took a Resolution worthy of her
+Virtue; yet, amiable as _Don Pedro_ was, she found nothing in him, but
+his being Husband to _Constantia_, that was dear to her: And, far from
+encouraging the Power she had got over his Heart, she thought of nothing
+but of removing from _Coimbra_. The Passion of _Don Alvaro_, which she
+had no inclination to favour, served her as a Pretext; and press'd with
+the fear of causing, in the end, a cruel Divorce between the Prince and
+his Princess, she went to find _Constantia_, with a trouble, which all
+her Care was not able to hide from her.
+
+The Princess easily found it out; and their common Misfortunes having
+not chang'd their Friendship--'What ails you, _Agnes_? (said the
+Princess to her, in a soft Tone, and with her ordinary Sweetness) And
+what new Misfortune causes that sadness in thy Looks? Madam (reply'd
+_Agnes_, shedding a Rivulet of Tears) the Obligations and Ties I have to
+you, put me upon a cruel Tryal; I had bounded the Felicity of my Life in
+hope of passing it near your Highness, yet I must carry to some other
+part of the World this unlucky Face of mine, which renders me nothing
+but ill Offices: And it is to obtain that Liberty, that I am come to
+throw my self at your feet; looking upon you as my Sovereign.'
+
+_Constantia_ was so surpriz'd and touch'd with the Proposition of
+_Agnes_, that she lost her Speech for some moments; Tears, which were
+sincere, express'd her first Sentiments: And after having shed
+abundance, to give a new mark of her Tenderness to the fair afflicted
+_Agnes_, she with a sad and melancholy Look, fix'd her Eyes upon her,
+and holding out her Hand to her, in a most obliging manner, sighing,
+cry'd--'You will then, my dear _Agnes_, leave me; and expose me to the
+Griefs of seeing you no more? Alas, Madam, (interrupted this lovely
+Maid) hide from the unhappy _Agnes_ a Bounty which does but increase her
+Misfortunes: It is not I, Madam, that would leave you; it is my Duty,
+and my Reason that orders my Fate. And those Days which I shall pass far
+from you, promise me nothing to oblige me to this Design, if I did not
+see my self absolutely forc'd to it. I am not ignorant of what passes at
+_Coimbra_; and I shall be an Accomplice of the Injustice there
+committed, if I should stay there any longer.--Ah, I know your Virtue,
+(cry'd _Constantia_) and you may remain here in all safety, while I am
+your Protectress; and let what will happen, I will accuse you of
+nothing. There's no answering for what's to come, (reply'd _Agnes_,
+sadly) and I shall be sufficiently guilty, if my Presence cause
+Sentiments, which cannot be innocent. Besides, Madam, the Importunities
+of _Don Alvaro_ are insupportable to me; and tho' I find nothing but
+Aversion to him, since the King protects his Insolence, and he's in a
+condition of undertaking any thing, my Flight is absolutely necessary.
+But, Madam, tho' he has nothing but what seems odious to me; I call
+Heaven to witness, that if I could cure the Prince by marrying _Don
+Alvaro_, I would not consider of it a moment; and finding in my
+Punishment the Consolation of sacrificing my self to my Princess,
+I would support it without murmuring. But if I were the Wife of _Don
+Alvaro_, _Don Pedro_ would always look upon me with the same Eyes: So
+that I find nothing more reasonable for me, than to hide my self in some
+Corner of the World; where, tho' I shall most certainly live without
+Pleasure, yet I shall preserve the Repose of my dearest Mistress. All
+the Reason you find in this Design, (answered the Princess) cannot
+oblige me to approve of your Absence: Will it restore me the Heart of
+_Don Pedro_? And will he not fly away with you? His Grief is mine, and
+my Life is ty'd to his; do not make him despair then, if you love me.
+I know you, I tell you so once more; and let your Power be ever so great
+over the Heart of the Prince, I will not suffer you to abandon us.'
+
+Tho' _Agnes_ thought she had perfectly known _Constantia_, yet she did
+not expect to find so intire a Virtue in her, which made her think her
+self more happy, and the Prince more criminal. 'Oh, Wisdom! Oh, Bounty
+without Example! (cry'd she) Why is it, that the cruel Destinies do not
+give you all you deserve? You are the disposer of my Actions, (continued
+she in kissing the Hand of _Constantia_) I'll do nothing but what you'll
+have me: But consider, and weigh well the Reasons that ought to counsel
+you in the Measures you oblige me to take.'
+
+_Don Pedro_, who had not seen the Princess all that day, came in then,
+and finding 'em both extremely troubled, with a fierce Impatience,
+demanded the Cause: 'Sir, answered _Constantia_, _Agnes_ too wise, and
+too scrupulous, fears the Effects of her Beauty, and will live no longer
+at _Coimbra_; and it was on this Subject, (which cannot be agreeable
+to me) that she ask'd my Advice.' The Prince grew pale at this
+Discourse, and snatching the Words from her Mouth (with more concern
+than possest either of them) cry'd with a Voice very feeble, '_Agnes_
+cannot fail if she follow your Counsel, Madam: and I leave you full
+liberty to give it her.' He then immediately went out, and the Princess,
+whose Heart he perfectly possest, not being able to hide her
+Displeasure, said, 'My dear _Agnes_, if my Satisfaction did not only
+depend on your Conversation, I should desire it of you, for _Don
+Pedro's_ sake; it is the only Advantage that his unfortunate Love can
+hope: And would not the World have reason to call me barbarous, if I
+contribute to deprive him of that? But the sight of me will prove a
+Poison to him--(reply'd _Agnes_) And what should I do, my Princess, if
+after the Reserve he has hitherto kept, his Mouth should add anything to
+the Torments I have already felt, by speaking to me of his Flame? You
+would hear him sure, without causing him to despair, (reply'd
+_Constantia_) and I should put this Obligation to the account of the
+rest you have done. Would you then have me expect those Events which I
+fear, Madam? (reply'd _Agnes_) Well--I will obey, but just Heaven
+(pursued she) if they prove fatal, do not punish an innocent Heart for
+it.' Thus this Conversation ended. _Agnes_ withdrew into her Chamber,
+but it was not to be more at ease.
+
+What _Don Pedro_ had learn'd of the Design of _Agnes_, caus'd a cruel
+Agitation in his Soul; he wished he had never loved her, and desir'd a
+thousand times to die: But it was not for him to make Vows against a
+thing which Fate had design'd him; and whatever Resolutions he made, to
+bear the Absence of _Agnes_, his Tenderness had not force enough to
+consent to it.
+
+After having, for a long time, combated with himself, he determined to
+do what was impossible for him to let _Agnes_ do. His Courage reproach'd
+him with the Idleness, in which he past the most youthful and vigorous
+part of his Days: and making it appear to the King, that his Allies, and
+even the Prince _Don John Emanuel_, his Father-in-law, had concerns in
+the World which demanded his Presence on the Frontiers, he easily
+obtain'd Liberty to make this Journey, to which the Princess would put
+no Obstacle.
+
+_Agnes_ saw him part without any Concern, but it was not upon the
+account of any Aversion she had to him. _Don Alvaro_ began then to make
+his Importunity an open Persecution; he forgot nothing that might touch
+the insensible _Agnes_, and made use, a long time, only of the Arms of
+Love: But seeing that this Submission and Respect was to no purpose, he
+form'd strange Designs.
+
+As the King had a deference for all his Counsels, it was not difficult
+to inspire him with what he had a mind to: He complain'd of the
+ungrateful _Agnes_, and forgot nothing that might make him perceive that
+she was not cruel to him on his account, but from the too much
+Sensibility she had for the Prince. The King, who was extreme angry at
+this, reiterated all the Promises he had made him.
+
+The King had not yet spoken to _Agnes_ in favour of _Don Alvaro_; and
+not doubting but his Approbation would surmount all Obstacles, he took
+an occasion to entertain her with it: And removing some distance from
+those who might hear him, 'I thought _Don Alvaro_ had Merit enough (said
+he to her) to have obtained a little share in your Esteem; and I could
+not imagine there would have been any necessity of my solliciting it for
+him: I know you are very charming, but he has nothing that renders him
+unworthy of you; and when you shall reflect on the Choice my Friendship
+has made of him from among all the great Men of my Court, you will do
+him at the same time Justice. His Fortune is none of the meanest, since
+he has me for his Protector: He is nobly born, a Man of Honour and
+Courage: he adores you, and it seems to me that all these Reasons are
+sufficient to vanquish your Pride.'
+
+The Heart of _Agnes_ was so little disposed to give it self to _Don
+Alvaro_, that all the King of _Portugal_ had said had no effect on her
+in his favour. 'If _Don Alvaro_, Sir, (answered she) were without Merit,
+he possesses Advantages enough in the Bounty your Majesty is pleased to
+honour him with, to make him Master of all things, it is not that I find
+any Defect in him that I answer not his Desires: But, Sir, by what
+obstinate Power would you that I should love, if Heaven has not given me
+a Soul that is tender? And why should you pretend that I should submit
+to him, when nothing is dearer to me than my liberty? You are not so
+free, nor so insensible, as you say, (answer'd the King, blushing with
+Anger;) and if your Heart were exempt from all sorts of Affection, he
+might expect a more reasonable Return than what he finds. But imprudent
+Maid, conducted by an ill Fate, (added he in fury) what Pretensions have
+you to _Don Pedro_? Hitherto I have hid the Chagrin, which his Weakness,
+and yours give me; but it was not the less violent for being hid. And
+since you oblige me to break out, I must tell you, that if my Son were
+not already married to _Constantia_, he should never be your Husband;
+renounce then those vain Ideas, which will cure him, and justify you.'
+
+The courageous _Agnes_ was scarce Mistress of the first Transports, at a
+Discourse so full of Contempt; but calling her Virtue to the aid of her
+Anger, she recover'd herself by the assistance of Reason: And
+considering the Outrage she receiv'd, not as coming from a great King,
+but a Man blinded and possest by _Don Alvaro_, she thought him not
+worthy of her Resentment; her fair Eyes animated themselves with so
+shining a vivacity, they answer'd for the purity of her Sentiments; and
+fixing them steadfastly on the King, 'If the Prince _Don Pedro_ have
+Weaknesses, (reply'd she, with an Air disdainful) he never communicated
+'em to me; and I am certain, I never contributed wilfully to 'em: But to
+let you see how little I regard your Defiance, and to put my Glory in
+safety, I will live far from you, and all that belongs to you: Yes, Sir,
+I will quit _Coimbra_ with pleasure; and for this Man, who is so dear to
+you, (answer'd she with a noble Pride and Fierceness, of which the King
+felt all the force) for this Favourite, so worthy to possess the most
+tender Affections of a great Prince, I assure you, that into whatever
+part of the World Fortune conducts me, I will not carry away the least
+Remembrance of him.' At these words she made a profound Reverence, and
+made such haste from his Presence, that he could not oppose her going if
+he would.
+
+The King was now more strongly convinc'd than ever, that she favour'd
+the Passion of _Don Pedro_, and immediately went to _Constantia_, to
+inspire her with the same Thought; but she was not capable of receiving
+such Impressions, and following her own natural Inclinations, she
+generously defended the Virtue of his Actions. The King, angry to see
+her so well intentioned to her Rival, whom he would have had her hated,
+reproached her with the sweetness of her Temper, and went thence to mix
+his Anger with _Don Alvaro's_ Rage, who was totally confounded when he
+saw the Negotiation of his Master had taken no effect. The haughty Maid
+braves me then, Sir, said he to the King, and despises the Honour which
+your Bounty offered her! Why cannot I resist so fatal a Passion? But I
+must love her, in spite of my self; and if this Flame consume me, I can
+find no way to extinguish it. What can I further do for you, replied the
+King? Alas, Sir, answered _Don Alvaro_, I must do by force, what I
+cannot otherwise hope from the proud and cruel _Agnes_. Well then, added
+the King, since it is not fit for me to authorize publickly a Violence
+in the midst of my Kingdom, chuse those of my Subjects whom you think
+most capable of serving you, and take away by force the Beauty that
+charms you; and if she do not yield to your Love, put that Power you are
+Master of in execution, to oblige her to marry you.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, ravish'd with this Proposition, which at the same time
+flatter'd both his Love and his Anger, cast himself at the Feet of the
+King, and renewed his Acknowledgments by fresh Protestations, and
+thought of nothing but employing his unjust Authority against _Agnes_.
+
+_Don Pedro_ had been about three Months absent, when _Alvaro_ undertook
+what the King counselled him to; tho' the Moderation was known to him,
+yet he feared his Presence, and would not attend the return of a Rival,
+with whom he would avoid all Disputes.
+
+One Night, when the said _Agnes_, full of her ordinary Inquietudes, in
+vain expected the God of Sleep, she heard a Noise, and after saw some
+Men unknown enter her Chamber, whose Measures being well consulted, they
+carried her out of the Palace, and putting her in a close Coach, forced
+her out of _Coimbra_, without being hinder'd by any Obstacle. She knew
+not of whom to complain, nor whom to suspect: _Don Alvaro_ seem'd too
+puissant to seek his Satisfaction this way; and she accus'd not the
+Prince of this attempt, of whom she had so favourable an Opinion:
+whatever she could think or say, she could not hinder her ill Fortune:
+They hurried her on with diligence, and before it was Day, were a
+considerable way off from the Town.
+
+As soon as Day began to break, she surveyed those that encompassed her,
+without so much as knowing one of them; and seeing that her Cries and
+Prayers were all in vain with these deaf Ravishers, she satisfied her
+self with imploring the Protection of Heaven, and abandon'd herself to
+its Conduct.
+
+While she sat thus overwhelmed with Grief, uncertain of her Destiny, she
+saw a Body of Horse advance towards the Troop which conducted her: the
+Ravishers did not shun them, thinking it to be _Don Alvaro_: but when he
+approached more near, they found it was the Prince of _Portugal_ who was
+at the head of 'em, and who, without foreseeing the occasion that would
+offer it self of serving _Agnes_, was returning to _Coimbra_ full of her
+Idea, after having performed what he ought in this Expedition.
+
+_Agnes_, who did not expect him, changed now her Opinion, and thought
+that it was the Prince that had caused her to be stolen away. 'Oh, Sir!
+(said she to him, having still the same Thought) is it you that have
+torn me from the Princess? And could so cruel a Blow come from a Hand
+that is so dear to her? What will you do with an unfortunate Creature,
+who desires nothing but Death? And why will you obscure the Glory of
+your Life, by an Artifice unworthy of you?' This Language astonish'd the
+Prince no less than the sight of _Agnes_ had done; he found by what she
+had said, that she was taken away by force; and immediately passing to
+the height of Rage, he made her understand by one only Look, that he was
+not the base Author of her trouble. 'I tear you from _Constantia_, whose
+only Pleasure you are! replied he: What Opinion have you of _Don Pedro_?
+No, Madam, tho' you see me here, I am altogether innocent of the
+Violence that has been done you; and there is nothing I will refuse to
+hinder it.' He then turned himself to behold the Ravishers, but his
+Presence had already scatter'd 'em, he order'd some of his Men to pursue
+'em, and to seize some of 'em, that he might know what Authority it was
+that set 'em at work.
+
+During this, _Agnes_ was no less confus'd than before; she admir'd the
+Conduct of her Destiny, that brought the Prince at a time when he was so
+necessary to her. Her Inclinations to do him justice, soon repair'd the
+Offence her Suspicions had caus'd; she was glad to have escap'd a
+Misfortune, which appear'd certain to her: but this was not a sincere
+Joy, when she consider'd that her Lover was her Deliverer, and a Lover
+worthy of all her Acknowledgments, but who owed his Heart to the most
+amiable Princess in the World.
+
+While the Prince's Men were pursuing the Ravishers of _Agnes_, he was
+left almost alone with her; and tho' he had always resolv'd to shun
+being so, yet his Constancy was not proof against so fair an Occasion:
+'Madam, said he to her, is it possible that Men born amongst those that
+obey us, should be capable of offending you? I never thought my self
+destin'd to revenge such an Offence; but since Heaven has permitted you
+to receive it, I will either perish or make them repent it.' 'Sir,
+replied _Agnes_, more concern'd at this Discourse than at the Enterprize
+of _Don Alvaro_, those who are wanting in their respect to the Princess
+and you, are not obliged to have any for me. I do not in the least doubt
+that _Don Alvaro_ was the undertaker of this Enterprize; and I judged
+what I ought to fear from him, by what his Importunities have already
+made me suffer. He is sure of the King's Protection, and he will make
+him an Accomplice in his Crime: but, Sir, Heaven conducted you hither
+happily for me, and I am indebted to you for the liberty I have of
+serving the Princess yet longer.' 'You will do for _Constantia_, replied
+the Prince, what 'tis impossible not to do for you; your Goodness
+attaches you to her, and my Destiny engages me to you for ever.'
+
+The modest _Agnes_, who fear'd this Discourse as much as the Misfortune
+she had newly shunned, answer'd nothing but by down-cast Eyes; and the
+Prince, who knew the trouble she was in, left her to go to speak to his
+Men, who brought back one of those that belong'd to _Don Alvaro_, by
+whose Confession he found the truth: He pardon'd him, thinking not fit
+to punish him, who obey'd a Man whom the Weakness of his Father had
+render'd powerful.
+
+Afterwards they conducted _Agnes_ back to _Coimbra_, where her Adventure
+began to make a great Noise: the Princess was ready to die with Despair,
+and at first thought it was only a continuation of the design this fair
+Maid had of retiring; but some Women that served her having told the
+Princess, that she was carried away by Violence, _Constantia_ made her
+Complaint to the King, who regarded her not at all.
+
+'Madam, said he to her, let this fatal Plague remove it self, who takes
+from you the Heart of your Husband; and without afflicting your self for
+her absence, bless Heaven and me for it.'
+
+The generous Princess took _Agnes's_ part with a great deal of Courage,
+and was then disputing her defence with the King, when _Don Pedro_
+arrived at _Coimbra_.
+
+The first Object that met the Prince's Eyes was _Don Alvaro_, who was
+passing thro' one of the Courts of the Palace, amidst a Croud of
+Courtiers, whom his Favour with the King drew after him. This sight made
+_Don Pedro_ rage; but that of the Princess and _Agnes_ caus'd in
+_Alvaro_ another sort of Emotion: He easily divin'd, that it was _Don
+Pedro_, who had taken her from his Men, and, if his Fury had acted what
+it would, it might have produc'd very sad effects.
+
+'_Don Alvaro_, said the Prince to him, is it thus you make use of the
+Authority which the King my Father hath given you? Have you receiv'd
+Employments and Power from him, for no other end but to do these base
+Actions, and to commit Rapes on Ladies? Are you ignorant how the
+Princess interests her self in all that concerns this Maid? And do you
+not know the tender and affectionate Esteem she has for her.' No,
+replied _Don Alvaro_, (with an Insolence that had like to have put the
+Prince past all patience) 'I am not ignorant of it, nor of the Interest
+your Heart takes in her.' 'Base and treacherous as thou art, replied the
+Prince, neither the Favour which thou hast so much abused, nor the
+Insolence which makes thee speak this, should hinder me from punishing
+thee, wert thou worthy of my Sword; but there are other ways to humble
+thy Pride, and 'tis not fit for such an Arm as mine to seek so base an
+Employment to punish such a Slave as thou art.'
+
+_Don Pedro_ went away at these Words, and left _Alvaro_ in a Rage, which
+is not to be express'd; despairing to see himself defeated in an
+Enterprize he thought so sure; and at the Contempt the Prince shewed
+him, he promis'd himself to sacrifice all to his Revenge.
+
+Tho' the King lov'd his Son, he was so prepossessed against his Passion,
+that he could not pardon him what he had done, and condemn'd him as much
+for this last act of Justice, in delivering _Agnes_, as if it had been
+the greatest of Crimes.
+
+_Elvira_, whom the sweetness of Hope flatter'd some moments, saw the
+return of _Agnes_ with a sensible Displeasure, which suffer'd her to
+think of nothing but irritating her Brother.
+
+In fine, the Prince saw the King, but instead of being receiv'd by him
+with a Joy due to the success of his Journey, he appear'd all sullen and
+out of humour. After having paid him his first Respects, and given him
+an exact account of what he had done, he spoke to him about the Violence
+committed against the Person of _Agnes de Castro_, and complain'd to him
+of it in the Name of the Princess, and of his own: 'You ought to be
+silent in this Affair, replied the King; and the Motive which makes you
+speak is so shameful for you, that I sigh and blush at it. What is it to
+you, if this Maid, whose Presence is troublesome to me, be removed
+hence, since 'tis I that desire it?' 'But, Sir, interrupted the Prince,
+what necessity is there of employing Force, Artifice, and the Night,
+when the least of your Orders had been sufficient? _Agnes_ would
+willingly have obey'd you; and if she continue at _Coimbra_, it is
+perhaps against her Will: but be it as it will, Sir, _Constantia_ is
+offended, and if were not for fear of displeasing you, (the only thing
+that retains me) the Ravisher should not have gone unpunished.' 'How
+happy are you, replied the King, smiling with disdain, in making use of
+the Name of _Constantia_ to uphold the Interest of your Heart! You think
+I am ignorant of it, and that this unhappy Princess looks on the Injury
+you do her with Indifference. Never speak to me more of _Agnes_, (with a
+Tone very severe.) Content your self, that I pardon what's past, and
+think maturely of the Considerations I have for _Don Alvaro_, when you
+would design any thing against him.' 'Yes, Sir, replied the Prince with
+fierceness, I will speak to you no more of _Agnes_; but _Constantia_ and
+I will never suffer, that she should be any more expos'd to the
+Insolence of your Favourite.' The King had like to have broke out into a
+Rage at this Discourse: but he had yet a rest of Prudence left that
+hinder'd him. 'Retire (said he to _Don Pedro_) and go make Reflections
+on what my Power can do, and what you owe me.'
+
+During this Conversation, _Agnes_ was receiving from the Princess, and
+from all the Ladies of the Court, great Expressions of Joy and
+Friendship: _Constantia_ saw again her Husband, with a great deal of
+satisfaction: and far from being sorry at what he had lately done for
+_Agnes_, she privately return'd him thanks for it, and still was the
+same towards him, notwithstanding all the Jealousy which was endeavour'd
+to be inspir'd in her.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who found in his Sister a Maliciousness worthy of his
+trust, did not conceal his Fury from her. After she had made vain
+attempts to moderate it, in blotting _Agnes_ out of his Heart, seeing
+that his Disease was incurable, she made him understand, that so long as
+_Constantia_ should not be jealous, there were no hopes: That if _Agnes_
+should once be suspected by her, she would not fail of abandoning her,
+and that then it would be easy to get Satisfaction, the Prince being now
+so proud of _Constantia's_ Indulgency. In giving this Advice to her
+Brother, she promis'd to serve him effectually; and having no need of
+any body but her self to perform ill things, she recommended _Don
+Alvaro_ to manage well the King.
+
+Four Years were pass'd in that melancholy Station, and the Princess,
+besides her first dead Child, and _Ferdinando_, who was still living,
+had brought two Daughters into the World.
+
+Some days after _Don Pedro's_ return, _Elvira_, who was most dextrous in
+the Art of well-governing any wicked Design, did gain one of the
+Servants who belong'd to _Constantia's_ Chamber. She first spoke her
+fair, then overwhelm'd her with Presents and Gifts; and finding in her
+as ill a Disposition as in her self, she readily resolv'd to employ her.
+
+After she was sure of her, she compos'd a Letter, which was after writ
+over again in an unknown Hand, which she deposited in that Maid's Hands,
+that she might deliver to _Constantia_ with the first Opportunity,
+telling her, that _Agnes_ had drop'd it. This was the Substance of it:
+
+  _I Employ not my own Hand to write to you, for Reasons that I shall
+  acquaint you with. How happy am I to have overcome all your
+  Scruples! And what Happiness shall I find in the Progress of our
+  Intrigue! The whole Course of my Life shall continually represent to
+  you the Sincerity of my Affections; pray think on the secret
+  Conversation that I require of you: I dare not speak to you in
+  publick, therefore let me conjure you here, by all that I have
+  suffer'd, to come to-night to the Place appointed, and speak to me
+  no more of +Constantia+; for she must be content with my Esteem,
+  since my Heart can be only yours._
+
+The unfaithful _Portuguese_ serv'd _Elvira_ exactly to her Desires; and
+the very next day seeing _Agnes_ go out from the Princess, she carry'd
+_Constantia_ the Letter; which she took, and found there what she was
+far from imagining: Tenderness never produc'd an Effect more full of
+grief, than what it made her suffer. 'Alas! they are both culpable,
+(said she, sighing) and in spite of the Defence my Heart would make for
+'em, my Reason condemns 'em. Unhappy Princess, the sad subject of the
+Capriciousness of Fortune! Why dost not thou die, since thou hast not a
+Heart of Honour to revenge it self? O _Don Pedro_! why did you give me
+your Hand, without your Heart? And thou, fair, and ungrateful! wert thou
+born to be the Misfortune of my Life, and perhaps the only cause of my
+Death?' After having given some Moments to the Violence of her Grief,
+she called the Maid, who brought her the Letter, commanding her to speak
+of it to no body, and to suffer no one to enter into her Chamber.
+
+She consider'd then of that Prince with more liberty, whose Soul she was
+not able to touch with the least Tenderness; and of the cruel Fair One
+that had betray'd her: Yet, even while her Soul was upon the Rack, she
+was willing to excuse 'em, and ready to do all she could for _Don
+Pedro_; at least, she made a firm Resolution, not to complain of him.
+
+_Elvira_ was not long without being inform'd of what had pass'd, nor of
+the Melancholy of the Princess, from whom she hop'd all she desir'd.
+
+_Agnes_, far from foreseeing this Tempest, return'd to _Constantia_; and
+hearing of her Indisposition, pass'd the rest of the Day at her
+Chamber-door, that she might from time to time learn news of her Health:
+for she was not suffer'd to come in, at which _Agnes_ was both surpriz'd
+and troubled. The Prince had the same Destiny, and was astonish'd at an
+Order which ought to have excepted him.
+
+The next day _Constantia_ appear'd, but so alter'd, that 'twas not
+difficult to imagine what she had suffer'd. _Agnes_ was the most
+impatient to approach her, and the Princess could not forbear weeping,
+They were both silent for some time, and _Constantia_ attributed this
+silence of _Agnes_ to some Remorse which she felt: and this unhappy Maid
+being able to hold no longer; 'Is it possible, Madam, (said she) that
+two Days should have taken from me all the Goodness you had for me? What
+have I done? And for what do you punish me?' The Princess regarded her
+with a languishing Look, and return'd her no Answer but Sighs. _Agnes_,
+offended with this reserve, went out with very great Dissatisfaction and
+Anger; which contributed to her being thought criminal. The Prince came
+in immediately after, and found _Constantia_ more disorder'd than usual,
+and conjur'd her in a most obliging manner to take care of her Health:
+_The greatest good for me_ (said she) _is not the Continuation of my
+Life; I should have more care of it if I loved you less: but--_ She
+could not proceed; and the Prince, excessively afflicted at her trouble,
+sigh'd sadly, without making her any answer, which redoubled her Grief.
+Spite then began to mix it self; and all things persuading the Princess
+that they made a Sacrifice of her, she would enter into no Explanation
+with her Husband, but suffered him to go away without saying any thing
+to him.
+
+Nothing is more capable of troubling our Reason, and consuming our
+Health, than secret Notions of Jealousy in Solitude.
+
+_Constantia_, who us'd to open her Heart freely to _Agnes_, now
+believing she had deceiv'd her, abandon'd her self so absolutely to
+Grief, that she was ready to sink under it; she immediately fell sick
+with the violence of it, and all the Court was concern'd at this
+Misfortune: _Don Pedro_ was truly afflicted at it, but _Agnes_ more than
+all the World beside. _Constantia's_ Coldness towards her, made her
+continually sigh; and her Distemper created merely by fancy, caus'd her
+to reflect on every thing that offer'd it self to her Memory: so that at
+last she began even to fear her self, and to reproach her self for what
+the Princess suffer'd.
+
+But the Distemper began to be such, that they fear'd _Constantia's_
+Death, and she her self began to feel the Approaches of it. This Thought
+did not at all disquiet her: she look'd on Death as the only relief from
+all her Torments; and regarded the Despair of all that approach'd her
+without the least concern.
+
+The King, who lov'd her tenderly, and who knew her Virtue, was
+infinitely mov'd at the Extremity she was in. And _Don Alvaro_, who lost
+not the least Occasion of making him understand that it was Jealousy
+which was the cause of _Constantia's_ Distemper, did but too much
+incense him against Criminals, worthy of Compassion. The King was not of
+a Temper to conceal his Anger long: 'You give fine Examples, (said he to
+the Prince) and such as will render your Memory illustrious! The Death
+of _Constantia_ (of which you are only to be accus'd) is the unhappy
+Fruit of your guilty Passion. Fear Heaven after this: and behold your
+self as a Monster that does not deserve to see the Light. If the
+Interest you have in my Blood did not plead for you, what ought you not
+to fear from my just Resentment? But what must not imprudent _Agnes_, to
+whom nothing ties me, expect from my hands? If _Constantia_ dies, she,
+who has the Boldness, in my Court, to cherish a foolish Flame by vain
+Hopes, and make us lose the most amiable Princess, whom thou art not
+worthy to possess, shall feel the Effects of her Indiscretion.'
+
+_Don Pedro_ knew very well, that _Constantia_ was not ignorant of his
+Sentiments for _Agnes_; but he knew also with what Moderation she
+receiv'd it: He was very sensible of the King's Reproaches; but as his
+Fault was not voluntary, and that a commanding Power, a fatal Star, had
+forc'd him to love in spite of himself, he appear'd afflicted and
+confus'd: 'You condemn me, Sir, (answer'd he) without having well
+examin'd me; and if my Intentions were known to you; perhaps you would
+not find me so criminal: I would take the Princess for my Judge, whom
+you say I sacrifice, if she were in a condition to be consulted. If I am
+guilty of any Weakness, her Justice never reproach'd me for it; and my
+Tongue never inform'd _Agnes_ of it. But suppose I have committed any
+Fault, why would you punish an innocent Lady, who perhaps condemns me
+for it as much as you? Ah, Villain! (interrupted the King) she has but
+too much favour'd you: You would not have lov'd thus long, had she not
+made you some Returns. Sir, (reply'd the Prince, pierced with Grief for
+the Outrage that was committed against _Agnes_) you offend a Virtue,
+than which nothing can be purer; and those Expressions which break from
+your Choler, are not worthy of you. _Agnes_ never granted me any
+Favours; I never asked any of her; and I protest to Heaven, I never
+thought of any thing contrary to the Duty I owe _Constantia_.'
+
+As they thus argued, one of the Princess's Women came all in Tears to
+acquaint _Don Pedro_, that the Princess was in the last Extremities of
+Life: 'Go see thy fatal Work, (said the King) and expect from a too-long
+patient Father the Usage thou deservest.'
+
+The Prince ran to _Constantia_, whom he found dying, and _Agnes_ in a
+swoon, in the Arms of some of the Ladies. What caus'd this double
+Calamity, was, that _Agnes_, who could suffer no longer the Indifferency
+of the Princess, had conjur'd her to tell her what was her Crime, and
+either to take her Life from her, or restore her to her Friendship.
+
+_Constantia_, who found she must die, could no longer keep her secret
+Affliction from _Agnes_; and after some Words, which were a Preparation
+to the sad Explanation, she shewed her that fatal Billet, which _Elvira_
+had caus'd to be written: 'Ah, Madam! (cry'd out the fair _Agnes_, after
+having read it) Ah, Madam! how many cruel Inquietudes had you spared me
+had you open'd your Heart to me with your wonted Bounty! 'Tis easy to
+see that this Letter is counterfeit, and that I have Enemies without
+Compassion. Could you believe the Prince so imprudent, to make use of
+any other Hand but his own, on an occasion like this? And do you believe
+me so simple to keep about me this Testimony of my Shame, with so little
+Precaution? You are neither betray'd by your Husband nor me; I attest
+Heaven, and those Efforts I have made to leave _Coimbra_. Alas, my dear
+Princess, how little have you known her, whom you have so much honoured?
+Do not believe that when I have justify'd my self, I will have any more
+Communication with the World: No, no; there will be no Retreat far
+enough from hence for me. I will take care to hide this unlucky Face,
+where it shall be sure to do no more harm.'
+
+The Princess touched at this Discourse, and the Tears of _Agnes_,
+press'd her hand, which she held in hers; and fixing Looks upon her
+capable of moving Pity in the most insensible Souls, 'If I have
+committed any Offence, my dear _Agnes_, (answer'd she) Death, which I
+expect in a moment, shall revenge it. I ought also to protest to you,
+That I have not ceas'd loving you, and that I believe every thing you
+have said, giving you back my most tender Affections.'
+
+'Twas at this time that the Grief, which equally oppress'd 'em, put the
+Princess into such an Extremity, that they sent for the Prince. He came,
+and found himself almost without Life or Motion at this sight. And what
+secret Motive soever might call him to the aid of _Agnes_, 'twas to
+_Constantia_ he ran. The Princess, who finding her last Moments drawing
+on, by a cold Sweat that cover'd her all over; and finding she had no
+more business with Life, and causing those Persons she most suspected to
+retire, 'Sir, (said she to _Don Pedro_) if I abandon Life without
+regret, it is not without Trouble that I part with you. But, Prince, we
+must vanquish when we come to die; and I will forget my self wholly, to
+think of nothing but of you. I have no Reproaches to make against you,
+knowing that 'tis Inclination that disposes Hearts, and not Reason.
+_Agnes_ is beautiful enough to inspire the most ardent Passion, and
+virtuous enough to deserve the first Fortunes in the World. I ask her,
+once more, pardon for the Injustice I have done her, and recommend her
+to you, as a Person most dear to me. Promise me, my dear Prince, before
+I expire, to give her my Place in your Throne: it cannot be better
+fill'd: you cannot chuse a Princess more perfect for your People, nor a
+better Mother for our little Children. And you my dear and faithful
+_Agnes_ (pursu'd she) listen not to a Virtue too scrupulous, that may
+make any opposition to the Prince of _Portugal_: Refuse him not a Heart
+of which he is worthy; and give him that Friendship which you had for
+me, with that which is due to his Merit. Take care of my little
+_Fernando_, and the two young Princesses: let them find me in you, and
+speak to them sometimes of me. Adieu, live both of you happy, and
+receive my last Embraces.'
+
+The afflicted _Agnes_, who had recover'd a little her Forces, lost them
+again a second time; Her Weakness was follow'd with Convulsions so
+vehement, that they were afraid of her Life; but _Don Pedro_ never
+removed from _Constantia_: 'What, Madam (said he) you will leave me
+then; and you think 'tis for my Good. Alas, _Constantia_! if my Heart
+has committed an Outrage against you, your Virtue has sufficiently
+revenged you on me in spite of you. Can you think me so barbarous?'--As
+he was going on, he saw Death shut the Eyes of the most generous
+Princess for ever; and he was within a very little of following her.
+
+But what Loads of Grief did this bring upon _Agnes_, when she found in
+that Interval, wherein Life and Death were struggling in her Soul, that
+_Constantia_ was newly expir'd! She would then have taken away her own
+Life, and have let her Despair fully appear.
+
+At the noise of the Death of the Princess, the Town and the Palace were
+all in Tears. _Elvira_, who saw then _Don Pedro_ free to engage himself,
+repented of having contributed to the Death of _Constantia_; and
+thinking her self the Cause of it, promis'd in her Griefs never to
+pardon herself.
+
+She had need of being guarded several days together; during which time
+she fail'd not incessantly to weep. And the Prince gave all those days
+to deepest Mourning. But when the first Emotions were past, those of his
+Love made him feel that he was still the same.
+
+He was a long time without seeing _Agnes_; but this Absence of his
+served only to make her appear the more charming when he did see her.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, who was afraid of the Liberty of the Prince, made new
+Efforts to move _Agnes de Castro_, who was now become insensible to
+every thing but Grief. _Elvira_, who was willing to make the best of the
+Design she had begun, consulted all her Womens Arts, and the Delicacy of
+her Wit, to revive the Flames with which the Prince once burnt for her:
+But his Constancy was bounded, and it was _Agnes_ alone that was to
+reign over his Heart. She had taken a firm Resolution, since the Death
+of _Constantia_, to pass the rest of her Days in a solitary Retreat. In
+spite of the precaution she took to hide this Design, the Prince was
+informed of it, and did all he was able to dispose his Constancy and
+Fortitude to it. He thought himself stronger than he really was; but
+after he had well consulted his Heart, he found but too well how
+necessary the Presence of _Agnes_ was to him. 'Madam (said he to her one
+day, with a Heart big, and his Eyes in Tears) which Action of my Life
+has made you determine my Death? Tho' I never told you how much I loved
+you, yet I am persuaded you are not ignorant of it. I was constrained to
+be silent during some Years for your sake, for _Constantia's_, and my
+own; but 'tis not possible for me to put this force upon my Heart for
+ever: I must once at least tell you how it languishes. Receive then the
+Assurances of a Passion, full of Respect and Ardour, with an offer of my
+Fortune, which I wish not better, but for your advantage.'
+
+_Agnes_ answer'd not immediately to these words, but with abundance of
+Tears; which having wiped away, and beholding _Don Pedro_ with an air
+which made him easily comprehend she did not agree with his Desires; 'If
+I were capable of the Weakness with which you'd inspire me, you'd be
+obliged to punish me for it: What! (said she) _Constantia_ is scarce
+bury'd, and you would have me offend her! No, my Prince (added she with
+more Softness) no, no, she whom you have heap'd so many Favours on, will
+not call down the Anger of Heaven, and the Contempt of Men upon her, by
+an Action so perfidious. Be not obstinate then in a Design in which I
+will never shew you Favour. You owe to _Constantia_, after her Death,
+a Fidelity that may justify you: and I, to repair the Ills I have made
+her suffer ought to shun all converse with you.' 'Go, Madam (reply'd the
+Prince, growing pale) go, and expect the News of my Death; in that part
+of the World, whither your Cruelty shall lead you, the News shall follow
+close after; you shall quickly hear of it: and I will go seek it in
+those Wars which reign among my Neighbours.'
+
+These Words made the fair _Agnes de Castro_ perceive that her Innocency
+was not so great as she imagined, and that her Heart interested it self
+in the Preservation of _Don Pedro_: 'You ought, Sir, to preserve your
+Life (reply'd _Agnes_) for the sake of the little Prince and Princesses,
+which _Constantia_ has left you. Would you abandon their Youth
+(continued she, with a tender Tone) to the Cruelty of _Don Alvaro_?
+Live! Sir, live! and let the unhappy _Agnes_ be the only Sacrifice.'
+'Alas, cruel Maid! (interrupted _Don Pedro_) Why do you command me to
+live, if I cannot live with you? Is it an effect of your Hatred?' 'No,
+Sir, (reply'd _Agnes_) I do not hate you; and I wish to God that I could
+be able to defend my self against the Weakness with which I find my self
+possess'd. Oblige me to say no more, Sir: you see my Blushes, interpret
+them as you please: but consider yet, that the less Aversion I find I
+have to you, the more culpable I am; and that I ought no more to see, or
+speak to you. In fine, Sir, if you oppose my Retreat, I declare to you,
+that _Don Alvaro_, as odious as he is to me, shall serve for a Defence
+against you; and that I will sooner consent to marry a Man I abhor, than
+to favour a Passion that cost _Constantia_ her Life.' 'Well then,
+_Agnes_ (reply'd the Prince, with Looks all languishing and dying)
+follow the Motions which barbarous Virtue inspires you with; take these
+Measures you judge necessary against an unfortunate Lover, and enjoy the
+Glory of having cruelly refused me.'
+
+At these Words he went away; and troubled as _Agnes_ was, she would not
+stay him: Her Courage combated with her Grief, and she thought now, more
+than ever, of departing.
+
+'Twas difficult for her to go out of _Coimbra_; and not to defer what
+appear'd to her so necessary, she went immediately to the Apartment of
+the King, notwithstanding the Interest of _Don Alvaro_. The King
+received her with a Countenance severe, not being able to consent to
+what she demanded: _You shall not go hence, +(said he)+ and if you are
+wise, you shall enjoy here with +Don Alvaro+ both my Friendship and my
+Favour. I have taken another Resolution (+answer'd+ Agnes) and the World
+has no part in it. You will accept +Don Pedro (reply'd the King)+ his
+Fortune is sufficient to satisfy an ambitious Maid: but you will not
+succeed +Constantia+, who lov'd you so tenderly; and +Spain+ has
+Princesses enough to fill up part of the Throne which I shall leave him.
+Sir, (+reply'd+ Agnes, +piqu'd at this Discourse+) if I had a
+Disposition to love, and a Design to marry, perhaps the Prince might be
+the only Person on whom I would fix it: And you know, if my Ancestors
+did not possess Crowns, yet they were worthy to wear 'em. But let it be
+how it will, I am resolved to depart, and to remain no longer a Slave in
+a Place to which I came free._
+
+This bold Answer, which shew'd the Character of _Agnes_, anger'd and
+astonished the King. _You shall go when we think fit +(reply'd he)+ and
+without being a Slave at +Coimbra+, you shall attend our order._
+
+_Agnes_ saw she must stay, and was so griev'd at it, that she kept her
+Chamber several days, without daring to inform herself of the Prince;
+and this Retirement spared her the Affliction of being visited by _Don
+Alvaro_.
+
+During this, _Don Pedro_ fell sick, and was in so great danger, that
+there was a general apprehension of his Death. _Agnes_ did not in the
+least doubt, but it was an effect of his Discontent: she thought at
+first she had Strength and Resolution enough to see him die, rather than
+to favour him; but had she reflected a little, she had soon been
+convinc'd to the contrary. She found not in her Heart that cruel
+Constancy she thought there so well established: She felt Pains and
+Inquietude, shed Tears, made Wishes; and, in fine, discover'd that she
+lov'd.
+
+'Twas impossible to see the Heir of the Crown, a Prince that deserved so
+well, even at the point of Death, without a general Affliction. The
+People who loved him, pass'd whole days at the Palace-gate to hear News
+of him: The Court was all over-whelm'd with Grief.
+
+_Don Alvaro_ knew very well how to conceal a malicious Joy, under an
+Appearance of Sadness. _Elvira_, full of Tenderness, and perhaps of
+Remorse, suffer'd also on her side. The King, altho' he condemned the
+Love of his Son, yet still had a Tenderness for him, and could not
+resolve to lose him. _Agnes de Castro_, who knew the Cause of his
+Distemper, expected the End of it with strange Anxieties: In fine, after
+a Month had pass'd away in Fears, they began to have a little hopes of
+his Recovery. The Prince and _Don Alvaro_ were the only Persons that
+were not glad of it: But _Agnes_ rejoic'd enough for all the rest.
+
+_Don Pedro_, seeing that he must live whether he wou'd or no, thought of
+nothing but passing his days in melancholy and discontent: As soon as he
+was in a condition to walk, he sought out the most solitary Places, and
+gain'd so much upon his own Weakness, to go every where, where _Agnes_
+was not; but her Idea followed him always, and his Memory, faithful to
+represent her to him with all her Charms, render'd her always dangerous.
+
+One day, when they had carry'd him into the Garden, he sought out a
+Labyrinth which was at the farthest part of it, to hide his Melancholy,
+during some hours; there he found the sad _Agnes_, whom Grief, little
+different from his, had brought thither; the sight of her whom he
+expected not, made him tremble: She saw by his pale and meagre Face the
+remains of his Distemper; his Eyes full of Languishment troubled her,
+and tho' her Desire was so great to have fled from him, an unknown Power
+stopt her, and 'twas impossible for her to go.
+
+After some Moments of Silence, which many Sighs interrupted, _Don Pedro_
+rais'd himself from the Place where his Weakness had forced him to sit;
+he made _Agnes_ see, as he approach'd her, the sad Marks of his
+Sufferings: and not content with the Pity he saw in her Eyes, _You have
+resolved my Death then, cruel +Agnes+, +(said he)+ my desire was the
+same with yours; but Heaven has thought fit to reserve me for other
+Misfortunes, and I see you again, as unhappy, but more in love than
+ever._
+
+There was no need of these Words to move _Agnes_ to compassion, the
+Languishment of the Prince spoke enough; and the Heart of this fair Maid
+was but too much disposed to yield it self: She thought then that
+_Constantia_ ought to be satisfy'd; Love, which combated for _Don
+Pedro_, triumphed over Friendship, and found that happy Moment, for
+which the Prince of _Portugal_, had so long sighed.
+
+_Do not reproach me, for that which has cost me more than you, Sir,
++(replied she)+ and do not accuse a Heart, which is neither ingrateful
+nor barbarous: and I must tell you, that I love you. But now I have made
+you that Confession, what is it farther that you require of me?_ _Don
+Pedro_, who expected not a Change so favourable, felt a double
+Satisfaction; and falling at the Feet of _Agnes_, he express'd more by
+the Silence his Passion created, than he could have done by the most
+eloquent Words.
+
+After having known all his good Fortune, he then consulted with the
+amiable _Agnes_, what was to be feared from the King; they concluded
+that the cruel Billet, which so troubled the last days of _Constantia_,
+could come from none but _Elvira_ and _Don Alvaro_. The Prince, who knew
+that his Father had searched already an Alliance for him, and was
+resolv'd on his Favourite's marrying _Agnes_, conjur'd her so tenderly
+to prevent these Persecutions, by consenting to a secret Marriage, that,
+after having a long time consider'd, she at last consented. _I will do
+what you will have me_ (said she) _tho' I presage nothing but fatal
+Events from it; all my Blood turns to Ice, when I think of this
+Marriage, and the Image of +Constantia+ seems to hinder me from
+doing it._
+
+The amorous Prince surmounted all her Scruples, and separated himself
+from _Agnes_, with a Satisfaction which soon redoubled his Forces; he
+saw her afterward with the Pleasure of a Mystery: And the Day of their
+Union being arrived, _Don Gill_, Bishop of _Guarda_, performed the
+Ceremony of the Marriage, in the Presence of several Witnesses, faithful
+to _Don Pedro_, who saw him Possessor of all the Charms of the fair
+_Agnes_.
+
+She lived not the more peaceable for belonging to the Prince of
+_Portugal_; her Enemies, who continually persecuted her, left her not
+without Troubles: and the King, whom her Refusal inrag'd, laid his
+absolute Commands on her to marry _Don Alvaro_, with Threats to force
+her to it, if she continu'd rebellious.
+
+The Prince took loudly her part; and this, join'd to the Refusal he made
+of marrying the Princess of _Arragon_, caus'd Suspicions of the Truth in
+the King his Father. He was seconded by those that were too much
+interested, not to unriddle this Secret. _Don Alvaro_ and his Sister
+acted with so much care, gave so many Gifts, and made so many Promises,
+that they discover'd the secret Engagements of _Don Pedro_ and _Agnes_.
+
+The King wanted but little of breaking out into all the Rage and Fury so
+great a Disappointment could inspire him with, against the Princess.
+_Don Alvaro_, whose Love was changed into the most violent Hatred,
+appeased the first Transports of the King, by making him comprehend,
+that if they could break the Marriage of 'em, that would not be a
+sufficient Revenge; and so poison'd the Soul of the King, to consent to
+the Death of _Agnes_.
+
+The barbarous _Don Alvaro_ offered his Arm for this terrible Execution,
+and his Rage was Security for the Sacrifice.
+
+The King, who thought the Glory of his Family disgraced by this
+Alliance, and his own in particular in the Procedure of his Son, gave
+full Power to this Murderer, to make the innocent _Agnes_ a Victim to
+his Rage.
+
+It was not easy to execute this horrid Design: Tho' the Prince saw
+_Agnes_ but in secret, yet all his Cares were still awake for her, and
+he was marry'd to her above a Year, before _Don Alvaro_ could find out
+an opportunity so long sought for.
+
+The Prince diverted himself but little, and very rarely went far from
+_Coimbra_; but on a Day, an unfortunate Day, and marked out by Heaven
+for an unheard-of and horrid Assassination, he made a Party to hunt at a
+fine House, which the King of _Portugal_ had near the City.
+
+_Agnes_ lov'd every thing that gave the Prince satisfaction; but a
+secret Trouble made her apprehend some Misfortune in this unhappy
+Journey. _Sir_, (said she to him, alarm'd, without knowing the Reason
+why) _I tremble, seeing you today as it were designed the last of my
+Life: Preserve your self, my dear Prince; and tho' the Exercise you take
+be not very dangerous, beware of the least Hazards, and bring me back
+all that I trust with you. Don Pedro_, who had never found her so
+handsome and so charming before, embraced her several times, and went
+out of the Palace with his Followers, with a Design not to return till
+the next Day.
+
+He was no sooner gone, but the cruel _Don Alvaro_ prepared himself for
+the Execution he had resolv'd on; he thought it of that importance, that
+it required more Hands than his own, and so chose for his Companions
+_Don Lopez Pacheo_, and _Pedro Cuello_, two Monsters like himself, whose
+Cruelty he was assur'd of by the Presents he had made 'em.
+
+They waited the coming of the Night, and the lovely _Agnes_ was in her
+first Sleep, which was the last of her Life, when these Assassins
+approach'd her Bed. Nothing made resistance to _Don Alvaro_, who could
+do every thing, and whom the blackest Furies introduced to _Agnes_; she
+waken'd, and opening her Curtains, saw, by the Candle burning in her
+Chamber, the Ponyard with which _Don Alvaro_ was armed; he having his
+Face not cover'd, she easily knew him, and forgetting herself, to think
+of nothing but the Prince: _Just Heaven_ (said she, lifting up her fine
+Eyes) _if you will revenge +Constantia+, satisfy your self with my Blood
+only, and spare that of_ Don Pedro. The barbarous Man that heard her,
+gave her not time to say more; and finding he could never (by all he
+could do by Love) touch the Heart of the fair _Agnes_, he pierc'd it
+with his Ponyard: his Accomplices gave her several Wounds, tho' there
+was no necessity of so many to put an end to an innocent Life.
+
+What a sad Spectacle was this for those who approach'd her Bed the next
+day! And what dismal News was this to the unfortunate Prince of
+_Portugal_! He returned to _Coimbra_ at the first report of this
+Adventure, and saw what had certainly cost him his Life, if Men could
+die of Grief. After having a thousand times embraced the bloody Body of
+_Agnes_, and said all that a just Despair could inspire him with, he ran
+like a Mad-man into the Palace, demanding the Murderers of his Wife, of
+things that could not hear him. In fine, he saw the King, and without
+observing any respect, he gave a loose to his Resentment: after having
+rail'd a long time, overwhelm'd with Grief, he fell into a Swoon, which
+continu'd all that day. They carry'd him into his Apartment: and the
+King, believing that his Misfortune would prove his Cure, repented not
+of what he had permitted.
+
+_Don Alvaro_, and the two other Assassins, quitted _Coimbra_. This
+Absence of theirs made 'em appear guilty of the Crime; for which the
+afflicted Prince vow'd a speedy Vengeance to the Ghost of his lovely
+_Agnes_, resolving to pursue them to the uttermost part of the Universe;
+He got a considerable number of Men together, sufficient to have made
+resistance, even to the King of _Portugal_ himself, if he should yet
+take the part of the Murderers: with these he ravaged the whole Country,
+as far as the _Duero_ Waters, and carry'd on a War, even till the Death
+of the King, continually mixing Tears with Blood, which he gave to the
+revenge of his dearest _Agnes_.
+
+
+Such was the deplorable End of the unfortunate Love of _Don Pedro_ of
+_Portugal_, and of the fair _Agnes de Castro_, whose Remembrance he
+faithfully preserv'd in his Heart, even upon the Throne, to which he
+mounted by the Right of his Birth, after the Death of the King.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; OR, THE FAIR VOW-BREAKER.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+In the Epistle Dedicatory to Antony Hammond, Esq., of Somersham-Place,
+prefacing that pathetic tragedy, _The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent
+Adultery_[1] (4to, 1694), Southerne writes: 'I took the Hint of the
+Tragical part of this Play from a Novel of Mrs. _Behn's_, call'd _The
+Fair Vow-Breaker_; you will forgive me for calling it a Hint, when you
+find I have little more than borrow'd the Question, how far such a
+Distress was to be carry'd, upon the Misfortune of a Woman's having
+innocently two Husbands, at the same time'.
+
+In the many collected editions of Mrs. Behn's popular novels and
+histories, from the first, published under the auspices of Gildon in
+1696, to the ninth (2 vols, 12mo, London, 1751), there appears, however,
+no such novel as _The Fair Vow-Breaker_, but on the other hand all
+contain _The Nun; or, the Perjur'd Beauty_. For over two hundred years
+then, critics, theatrical historians, bibliographers alike have laid
+down that _The Fair Vow-Breaker_ is merely another title for _The Nun;
+or, The Perjur'd Beauty_, and that it is to this romance we must look
+for the source of Southerne's tragedy. The slight dissimilarity of name
+was truly of no great account. On the title-page of another novel we
+have _The Fair Jilt; or, The History of Prince Tarquin and Miranda_; on
+the half-title of the same _The Fair Hypocrite; or, The Amours of Prince
+Tarquin and Miranda_ (12mo, 1688). And so Thomas Evans in the preface to
+his edition of Southerne (3 vols, 1774), writing the dramatist's life,
+says: 'the plot by the author's confession is taken from a novel of Mrs.
+Behn's called _The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_'. All the modern
+writers have duly, but wrongly, accepted this; and Miss Charlotte E.
+Morgan in her monograph, _The English Novel till 1749_, informs us in
+more than one place that _The Fair Vow-Breaker_ (12mo, 1689) was the
+name of the editio princeps of _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_.
+
+A crux, however, was soon apparent. Upon investigation it is obvious
+that the plot of _The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_ has
+simply nothing in common with _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_. Mrs.
+Behn's Ardelia is a mere coquette who through her trifling with three
+different men is responsible for five deaths: her lovers', Elvira's, and
+her own. Isabella, Southerne's heroine, on the other hand, falls a sad
+victim to the machinations of Carlos, her wicked brother-in-law. She is
+virtuous and constant; Ardelia is a jade capable of heartless treachery.
+Both novel and play end tragically it is true, but from entirely
+different motives and in a dissimilar manner. There is no likeness
+between them.
+
+Whence then did Southerne derive his plot, and what exactly did he mean
+by the statement that he owed 'the Hint of the Tragical part' of his
+drama to a novel of Mrs. Behn's?
+
+Professor Paul Hamelius of Liege set out to solve the difficulty, and in
+a scholarly article (_Modern Language Review_, July, 1909), he marshals
+the facts and seeks a solution. 'Among her [Mrs. Behn's] collected
+novels'[2] he writes 'there is one entitled _The Nun; or, The Perjur'd
+Beauty_ and Mr. Gosse has kindly informed me that the story is identical
+with _The Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_ which appears in the editio
+princeps of 1689 (inaccessible to me).' Unfortunately he can find no
+analogy and is obliged to draw attention to other sources. He points to
+_The Virgin Captive_, the fifth story in Roger L'Estrange's _The Spanish
+Decameron_ (1687). Again: there is the famous legend of the lovers of
+Teruel as dramatized in 1638 by Juan Perez de Montalvan, _Los Amantes de
+Teruel_. An earlier comedia exists on the same subject written by A. Rey
+de Artieda, 1581, and yet another play by Tirso de Molina, 1635, based
+on Artieda. Hamelius was obviously not satisfied with his researches,
+and with a half-suggestion that Southerne may have merely intended to
+pay a compliment to his 'literary friend Mrs. Behn,' his conclusion is
+that 'the question is naturally still open whether Southerne was not
+drawing from some more immediate source--possibly even from some lost
+version of the story by Mrs. Behn herself.'
+
+In the course of my preparing the present edition of Mrs. Behn's
+complete works, Mr. Gosse, adding yet another to innumerable kindnesses
+and encouragements, entrusted me with a little volume[3] from his
+private library: _The History of the Nun; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker_
+(12mo, 1689, Licensed 22 October, 1688), and I soon found this to be the
+immediate source of Southerne's tragedy, a totally different novel from
+_The Nun; or, The Perjur'd Beauty_, and one, moreover, which has never
+till now been included in any edition of Mrs. Behn's works or, indeed,
+reprinted in any form. It were superfluous to compare novel and tragedy
+detail by detail. Many striking, many minor points are the same in each.
+In several instances the nomenclature has been preserved. The chief
+divergence is, of course, the main catastrophe. Mrs. Behn's execution
+could ill have been represented on the boards, and Southerne's heroine,
+the victim of villainies and intrigue, is, it must be confessed, an
+infinitely more pathetic figure than guilty Isabella in the romance.
+
+The story of a man returning after long absence and finding his spouse
+(or betrothed) wedded to another, familiarized to the generality of
+modern readers by Tennyson's _Enoch Arden_, occurs in every shape and
+tongue. No. 69 of _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_ is _L'Honneste femme a
+Deux Maris_.[4] A more famous exemplar we have in the _Decameron_, Day
+IV, Novella 8, whose rubric runs: 'Girolamo ama la Salvestra: va,
+costretto da' prieghi della madre, a Parigi: torna, e truovala maritata:
+entrale di nascoso in casa, e muorle allato; e portato in una chiesa,
+muore la Salvestra allata a lui.'
+
+Scenes of the amusing underplot of _The Fatal Marriage_ which contain
+some excellent comedy, Southerne took directly from _The Night Walker;
+or, The Little Thief_ (printed as Fletcher's in 1640 and 'corrected by
+Shirley' in 1633 according to Herbert's license). The purgatorial farce
+may be traced to the _Decameron_, Day III, 8. 'Ferondo, mangiata certa
+polvere, e sotterrato per morto: e dall' abate, chi la moglie di lui si
+gode, tratto dalla sepoltura, e messo in prigione e fattogli credere,
+che egli e in purgatoro; e poi risuscitato . . .' It is the _Feronde;
+ou, le Purgatoire_ of La Fontaine.
+
+_The Fatal Marriage; or, The Innocent Adultery_ long kept the stage.[5]
+On 2 December, 1757, Garrick's version, which omitting the comic relief
+weakens and considerably shortens the play, was produced at Drury Lane
+with himself as Biron and Mrs. Cibber as Isabella. The actual name of
+the tragedy, however, was not changed to _Isabella_ till some years
+after. Mrs. Barry, the original Isabella, was acknowledged supreme in
+this tragedy, and our greatest actresses, Mrs. Porter, Mrs. Crawford,
+Miss Young, Mrs. Siddons, Miss O'Neill, have all triumphed in the role.
+
+    [Footnote 1: This has nothing to do with Scarron's novel, _L'
+    Innocent Adultere_ which translated was so popular in the 17th and
+    18th centuries. Bellmour carried it in his pocket when he went
+    a-courting Laetitia, to the horror of old Fondlewife who
+    discovered the tome, (_The Old Batchelor_, 1693), and Lydia
+    Languish was partial to its perusal in 1775.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: Hamelius used the collected edition of 1705.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: It is interesting to note that the book originally
+    belonged to Scott's friend and critic, Charles Kirkpatrick
+    Sharpe.]
+
+    [Footnote 4: Reproduced by Celio Malespini _Ducento Novelle_, No.
+    9 (Venice, 4to, 1609, but probably written about thirty years
+    before).]
+
+    [Footnote 5: A French prose translation of Southerne is to be
+    found in Vol. VIII of _Le Theatre Anglois_, Londres, 1746. It is
+    entitled _L'Adultere Innocent_; but the comic underplot is very
+    sketchily analyzed, scene by scene, and the whole is very mediocre
+    withal.]
+
+
+
+
+  To the Most Illustrious Princess,
+  The Dutchess of Mazarine.
+
+  Madam,
+
+There are none of an Illustrious Quality, who have not been made, by
+some Poet or other, the Patronesses of his Distress'd Hero, or
+Unfortunate Damsel; and such Addresses are Tributes, due only to the
+most Elevated, where they have always been very well receiv'd, since
+they are the greatest Testimonies we can give, of our Esteem and
+Veneration.
+
+Madam, when I survey'd the whole Toor of Ladies at Court, which was
+adorn'd by you, who appear'd there with a Grace and Majesty, peculiar to
+Your Great Self only, mix'd with an irresistible Air of Sweetness,
+Generosity, and Wit, I was impatient for an Opportunity, to tell Your
+Grace, how infinitely one of Your own Sex ador'd You, and that, among
+all the numerous Conquest, Your Grace has made over the Hearts of Men,
+Your Grace had not subdu'd a more entire Slave; I assure you, Madam,
+there is neither Compliment nor Poetry, in this humble Declaration, but
+a Truth, which has cost me a great deal of Inquietude, for that Fortune
+has not set me in such a Station, as might justifie my Pretence to the
+honour and satisfaction of being ever near Your Grace, to view eternally
+that lovely Person, and hear that surprizing Wit; what can be more
+grateful to a Heart, than so great, and so agreeable, an Entertainment?
+And how few Objects are there, that can render it so entire a Pleasure,
+as at once to hear you speak, and to look upon your Beauty? A Beauty
+that is heighten'd, if possible, with an air of Negligence, in Dress,
+wholly Charming, as if your Beauty disdain'd those little Arts of your
+Sex, whose Nicety alone is their greatest Charm, while yours, Madam,
+even without the Assistance of your exalted Birth, begets an Awe and
+Reverence in all that do approach you, and every one is proud, and
+pleas'd, in paying you Homage their several ways, according to their
+Capacities and Talents; mine, Madam, can only be exprest by my Pen,
+which would be infinitely honour'd, in being permitted to celebrate your
+great Name for ever, and perpetually to serve, where it has so great an
+inclination.
+
+In the mean time, Madam, I presume to lay this little Trifle at your
+Feet; the Story is true, as it is on the Records of the Town, where it
+was transacted; and if my fair unfortunate VOW-BREAKER do not deserve
+the honour of your Graces Protection, at least, she will be found worthy
+of your Pity; which will be a sufficient Glory, both for her, and,
+
+    Madam,
+  Your Graces most humble,
+      and most obedient Servant,
+          A. BEHN.
+
+
+
+
+THE HISTORY OF THE NUN; or, The Fair Vow-Breaker.
+
+
+Of all the sins, incident to Human Nature, there is none, of which
+Heaven has took so particular, visible, and frequent Notice, and
+Revenge, as on that of _Violated Vows_, which never go unpunished; and
+the _Cupids_ may boast what they will, for the encouragement of their
+Trade of Love, that Heaven never takes cognisance of Lovers broken Vows
+and Oaths, and that 'tis the only Perjury that escapes the Anger of the
+_Gods_; But I verily believe, if it were search'd into, we should find
+these frequent Perjuries, that pass in the World for so many Gallantries
+only, to be the occasion of so many unhappy Marriages, and the cause of
+all those Misfortunes, which are so frequent to the Nuptiall'd Pair. For
+not one of a Thousand, but, either on his side, or on hers, has been
+perjur'd, and broke Vows made to some fond believing Wretch, whom they
+have abandon'd and undone. What Man that does not boast of the Numbers
+he has thus ruin'd, and, who does not glory in the shameful Triumph?
+Nay, what Woman, almost, has not a pleasure in Deceiving, taught,
+perhaps, at first, by some dear false one, who had fatally instructed
+her Youth in an Art she ever after practis'd, in Revenge on all those
+she could be too hard for, and conquer at their own Weapons? For,
+without all dispute, Women are by Nature more Constant and Just, than
+Men, and did not their first Lovers teach them the trick of Change, they
+would be _Doves_, that would never quit their Mate, and, like _Indian_
+Wives, would leap alive into the Graves of their deceased Lovers, and be
+buried quick with 'em. But Customs of Countries change even Nature her
+self, and long Habit takes her place: The Women are taught, by the Lives
+of the Men, to live up to all their Vices, and are become almost as
+inconstant; and 'tis but Modesty that makes the difference, and, hardly,
+inclination; so deprav'd the nicest Appetites grow in time, by bad
+Examples.
+
+But, as there are degrees of Vows, so there are degrees of Punishments
+for Vows, there are solemn Matrimonial Vows, such as contract and are
+the most effectual Marriage, and have the most reason to be so; there
+are a thousand Vows and Friendships, that pass between Man and Man, on a
+thousand Occasions; but there is another Vow, call'd a _Sacred Vow_,
+made to God only; and, by which, we oblige our selves eternally to serve
+him with all Chastity and Devotion: This Vow is only taken, and made, by
+those that enter into Holy Orders, and, of all broken Vows, these are
+those, that receive the most severe and notorious Revenges of God; and I
+am almost certain, there is not one Example to be produc'd in the World,
+where Perjuries of this nature have past unpunish'd, nay, that have not
+been persu'd with the greatest and most rigorous of Punishments. I could
+my self, of my own knowledge, give an hundred Examples of the fatal
+Consequences of the Violation of Sacred Vows; and who ever make it their
+business, and are curious in the search of such Misfortunes, shall find,
+as I say, that they never go unregarded.
+
+The young Beauty therefore, who dedicates her self to Heaven, and weds
+her self for ever to the service of God, ought, first, very well to
+consider the Self-denial she is going to put upon her youth, her fickle
+faithless deceiving Youth, of one Opinion to day, and of another to
+morrow; like Flowers, which never remain in one state or fashion, but
+bud to day, and blow by insensible degrees, and decay as imperceptibly.
+The Resolution, we promise, and believe we shall maintain, is not in our
+power, and nothing is so deceitful as human Hearts.
+
+I once was design'd an humble Votary in the House of Devotion, but
+fancying my self not endu'd with an obstinacy of Mind, great enough to
+secure me from the Efforts and Vanities of the World, I rather chose to
+deny my self that Content I could not certainly promise my self, than to
+languish (as I have seen some do) in a certain Affliction; tho'
+possibly, since, I have sufficiently bewailed that mistaken and
+inconsiderate Approbation and Preference of the false ungrateful World,
+(full of nothing but Nonsense, Noise, false Notions, and Contradiction)
+before the Innocence and Quiet of a Cloyster; nevertheless, I could
+wish, for the prevention of abundance of Mischiefs and Miseries, that
+Nunneries and Marriages were not to be enter'd into, 'till the Maid, so
+destin'd, were of a mature Age to make her own Choice; and that Parents
+would not make use of their justly assum'd Authority to compel their
+Children, neither to the one or the other; but since I cannot alter
+Custom, nor shall ever be allow'd to make new Laws, or rectify the old
+ones, I must leave the Young Nuns inclos'd to their best Endeavours, of
+making a Virtue of Necessity; and the young Wives, to make the best of a
+bad Market.
+
+In _Iper_, a Town, not long since, in the Dominions of the King of
+_Spain_, and now in possession of the King of _France_, there liv'd a
+Man of Quality, of a considerable Fortune, call'd, Count _Henrick de
+Vallary_, who had a very beautiful Lady, by whom, he had one Daughter,
+call'd _Isabella_, whose Mother dying when she was about two years old
+to the unspeakable Grief of the Count, her Husband, he resolv'd never to
+partake of any Pleasure more, that this transitory World could court him
+with, but determin'd, with himself, to dedicate his Youth, and future
+Days, to Heaven, and to take upon him Holy Orders; and, without
+considering, that, possibly, the young _Isabella_, when she grew to
+Woman, might have Sentiments contrary to those that now possest him, he
+design'd she should also become a Nun; However, he was not so positive
+in that Resolution, as to put the matter wholly out of her Choice, but
+divided his Estate; one half he carried with him to the Monastery of
+_Jesuits_, of which number, he became one; and the other half, he gave
+with _Isabella_, to the Monastery, of which, his only Sister was Lady
+_Abbess_, of the Order of St. _Augustine_; but so he ordered the matter,
+that if, at the Age of Thirteen, _Isabella_ had not a mind to take
+Orders, or that the Lady _Abbess_ found her Inclination averse to a
+Monastick Life, she should have such a proportion of the Revenue, as
+should be fit to marry her to a Noble Man, and left it to the discretion
+of the Lady _Abbess_, who was a Lady of known Piety, and admirable
+strictness of Life, and so nearly related to _Isabella_, that there was
+no doubt made of her Integrity and Justice.
+
+The little _Isabella_ was carried immediately (in her Mourning for her
+dead Mother) into the Nunnery, and was receiv'd as a very diverting
+Companion by all the young Ladies, and, above all, by her Reverend Aunt,
+for she was come just to the Age of delighting her Parents; she was the
+prettiest forward Pratler in the World, and had a thousand little Charms
+to please, besides the young Beauties that were just budding in her
+little Angel Face: So that she soon became the dear lov'd Favourite of
+the whole House; and as she was an Entertainment to them all, so they
+made it their study to find all the Diversions they could for the pretty
+_Isabella_; and as she grew in Wit and Beauty every day, so they fail'd
+not to cultivate her Mind; and delicate Apprehension, in all that was
+advantageous to her Sex, and whatever Excellency any one abounded in,
+she was sure to communicate it to the young _Isabella_, if one could
+Dance, another Sing, another play on this Instrument, and another on
+that; if this spoke one Language, and that another; if she had Wit, and
+she Discretion, and a third, the finest Fashion and Manners; all joyn'd
+to compleat the Mind and Body of this beautiful young Girl; Who, being
+undiverted with the less noble, and less solid, Vanities of the World,
+took to these Virtues, and excell'd in all; and her Youth and Wit being
+apt for all Impressions, she soon became a greater Mistress of their
+Arts, than those who taught her; so that at the Age of eight or nine
+Years, she was thought fit to receive and entertain all the great Men
+and Ladies, and the Strangers of any Nation, at the _Grate_; and that
+with so admirable a Grace, so quick and piercing a Wit, and so
+delightful and sweet a Conversation, that she became the whole Discourse
+of the Town, and Strangers spread her Fame, as prodigious, throughout
+the Christian World; for Strangers came daily to hear her talk, and
+sing, and play, and to admire her Beauty; and Ladies brought their
+Children, to shame 'em into good Fashion and Manners, with looking on
+the lovely young _Isabella_.
+
+The Lady _Abbess_, her Aunt, you may believe, was not a little proud of
+the Excellencies and Virtues of her fair _Niece_, and omitted nothing
+that might adorn her Mind; because, not only of the vastness of her
+Parts and Fame, and the Credit she would do her House, by residing there
+for ever; but also, being very loth to part with her considerable
+Fortune, which she must resign, if she returned into the World, she us'd
+all her Arts and Stratagems to make her become a _Nun_, to which all the
+fair Sisterhood contributed their Cunning, but it was altogether
+needless; her Inclination, the strictness of her Devotion, her early
+Prayers, and those continual, and innate Stedfastness, and Calm, she was
+Mistress of; her Ignorance of the World's Vanities, and those that
+uninclos'd young Ladies count Pleasures and Diversions, being all
+unknown to her, she thought there was no Joy out of a _Nunnery_, and no
+Satisfactions on the other side of a _Grate_.
+
+The Lady _Abbess_, seeing, that of her self she yielded faster than she
+could expect; to discharge her Conscience to her Brother, who came
+frequently to visit his Darling _Isabella_, would very often discourse
+to her of the Pleasures of the World, telling her, how much happier she
+would think her self, to be the Wife of some gallant young Cavalier, and
+to have Coaches and Equipages; to see the World, to behold a thousand
+Rarities she had never seen, to live in Splendor, to eat high, and wear
+magnificent Clothes, to be bow'd to as she pass'd, and have a thousand
+Adorers, to see in time a pretty Offspring, the products of Love, that
+should talk, and look, and delight, as she did, the Heart of their
+Parents; but to all, her Father and the Lady _Abbess_ could say of the
+World, and its Pleasures, _Isabella_ brought a thousand Reasons and
+Arguments, so Pious, so Devout, that the _Abbess_ was very well pleased,
+to find her (purposely weak) Propositions so well overthrown; and gives
+an account of her daily Discourses to her Brother, which were no less
+pleasing to him; and tho' _Isabella_ went already dress'd as richly as
+her Quality deserv'd, yet her Father, to try the utmost that the World's
+Vanity could do, upon her young Heart, orders the most Glorious Clothes
+should be bought her, and that the Lady _Abbess_ should suffer her to go
+abroad with those Ladies of Quality, that were her Relations, and her
+Mother's Acquaintance; that she should visit and go on the Toore, (that
+is, the Hide Park there) that she should see all that was diverting, to
+try, whether it were not for want of Temptation to Vanity, that made her
+leave the World, and love an inclos'd Life.
+
+As the Count had commanded, all things were performed; and _Isabella_
+arriving at her Thirteenth Year of Age, and being pretty tall of
+Stature, with the finest Shape that Fancy can create, with all the
+Adornment of a perfect brown-hair'd Beauty, Eyes black and lovely,
+Complexion fair; to a Miracle, all her Features of the rarest
+proportion, the Mouth red, the Teeth white, and a thousand Graces in her
+Meen and Air; she came no sooner abroad, but she had a thousand Persons
+fighting for love of her; the Reputation her Wit had acquir'd, got her
+Adorers without seeing her, but when they saw her, they found themselves
+conquer'd and undone; all were glad she was come into the World, of whom
+they had heard so much, and all the Youth of the Town dress'd only for
+_Isabella de Valerie_, that rose like a new Star that Eclips'd all the
+rest, and which set the World a-gazing. Some hop'd, and some despair'd,
+but all lov'd, while _Isabella_ regarded not their Eyes, their distant
+darling Looks of Love, and their signs of Adoration; she was civil and
+affable to all, but so reserv'd, that none durst tell her his Passion,
+or name that strange and abhorr'd thing, _Love_, to her; the Relations
+with whom she went abroad every day, were fein to force her out, and
+when she went, 'twas the motive of Civility, and not Satisfaction, that
+made her go; whatever she saw, she beheld with no admiration, and
+nothing created wonder in her, tho' never so strange and Novel. She
+survey'd all things with an indifference, that tho' it was not sullen,
+was far from Transport, so that her evenness of Mind was infinitely
+admir'd and prais'd. And now it was, that, young as she was, her Conduct
+and Discretion appear'd equal to her Wit and Beauty, and she encreas'd
+daily in Reputation, insomuch, that the Parents of abundance of young
+Noble Men, made it their business to endeavour to marry their Sons to so
+admirable and noble a Maid, and one, whose Virtues were the Discourse of
+all the World; the _Father_, the Lady _Abbess_, and those who had her
+abroad, were solicited to make an Alliance; for the Father, he would
+give no answer, but left it to the discretion of _Isabella_, who could
+not be persuaded to hear any thing of that nature; so that for a long
+time she refus'd her company to all those, who propos'd any thing of
+Marriage to her; she said, she had seen nothing in the World that was
+worth her Care, or the venturing the losing of Heaven for, and therefore
+was resolv'd to dedicate her self to that; that the more she saw of the
+World, the worse she lik'd it, and pity'd the Wretches that were
+condemn'd to it; that she had consider'd it, and found no one
+Inclination that forbad her immediate Entrance into a Religious Life; to
+which, her Father, after using all the Arguments he could, to make her
+take good heed of what she went about, to consider it well; and had
+urg'd all the Inconveniencies of Severe Life, Watchings, Midnight
+Risings in all Weathers and Seasons to Prayers, hard Lodging, course
+Diet, and homely Habit, with a thousand other things of Labour and Work
+us'd among the _Nuns_; and finding her still resolv'd and inflexible to
+all contrary persuasions, he consented, kiss'd her, and told her, She
+had argu'd according to the wish of his Soul, and that he never believ'd
+himself truly happy, till this moment that he was assur'd, she would
+become a Religious.
+
+This News, to the Heart-breaking of a thousand Lovers, was spread all
+over the Town, and there was nothing but Songs of Complaint, and of her
+retiring, after she had shewn her self to the World, and vanquish'd so
+many Hearts; all Wits were at work on this Cruel Subject, and one begat
+another, as is usual in such Affairs. Amongst the number of these
+Lovers, there was a young Gentleman, Nobly born, his name was
+_Villenoys_, who was admirably made, and very handsom, had travell'd and
+accomplish'd himself, as much as was possible for one so young to do; he
+was about Eighteen, and was going to the Siege of _Candia_, in a very
+good Equipage, but, overtaken by his Fate, surpris'd in his way to
+Glory, he stopt at _Ipers_, so fell most passionately in love with this
+Maid of Immortal Fame; but being defeated in his hopes by this News, was
+the Man that made the softest Complaints to this fair Beauty, and whose
+violence of Passion oppress'd him to that degree, that he was the only
+Lover, who durst himself tell her, he was in love with her; he writ
+Billets so soft and tender, that she had, of all her Lovers, most
+compassion for _Villenoys_, and dain'd several times, in pity of him, to
+send him answers to his Letters, but they were such, as absolutely
+forbad him to love her; such as incited him to follow Glory, the
+Mistress that could noblest reward him; and that, for her part, her
+Prayers should always be, that he might be victorious, and the Darling
+of that Fortune he was going to court; and that she, for her part, had
+fix'd her Mind on Heaven, and no Earthly Thought should bring it down;
+but she should ever retain for him all Sisterly Respect, and begg'd, in
+her Solitudes, to hear, whether her Prayers had prov'd effectual or not,
+and if Fortune were so kind to him, as she should perpetually wish.
+
+When _Villenoys_ found she was resolv'd, he design'd to persue his
+Journy, but could not leave the Town, till he had seen the fatal
+Ceremony of _Isabella's_ being made a _Nun_, which was every day
+expected; and while he stay'd, he could not forbear writing daily to
+her, but receiv'd no more Answers from her, she already accusing her
+self of having done too much, for a Maid in her Circumstances; but she
+confess'd, of all she had seen, she lik'd _Villenoys_ the best; and if
+she ever could have lov'd, she believ'd it would have been _Villenoys_,
+for he had all the good Qualities, and grace, that could render him
+agreeable to the Fair; besides, that he was only Son to a very rich and
+noble Parent, and one that might very well presume to lay claim to a
+Maid of _Isabella's_ Beauty and Fortune.
+
+As the time approach'd, when he must eternally lose all hope, by
+_Isabella's_ taking Orders, he found himself less able to bear the
+Efforts of that Despair it possess'd him with, he languished with the
+thought, so that it was visible to all his Friends, the decays it
+wrought on his Beauty and Gaiety: So that he fell at last into a Feaver;
+and 'twas the whole Discourse of the Town, That _Villenoys_ was dying
+for the Fair _Isabella_; his Relations, being all of Quality, were
+extreamly afflicted at his Misfortune, and joyn'd their Interests yet,
+to dissuade this fair young Victoress from an act so cruel, as to
+inclose herself in a _Nunnery_, while the finest of all the youths of
+Quality was dying for her, and ask'd her, If it would not be more
+acceptable to Heaven to save a Life, and perhaps a Soul, than to go and
+expose her own to a thousand Tortures? They assur'd her, _Villenoys_ was
+dying, and dying Adoring her; that nothing could save his Life, but her
+kind Eyes turn'd upon the fainting Lover; a Lover, that could breath
+nothing, but her Name in Sighs; and find satisfaction in nothing, but
+weeping and crying out, 'I dye for Isabella!' This Discourse fetch'd
+abundance of Tears from the fair Eyes of this tender Maid; but, at the
+same time, she besought them to believe, these Tears ought not to give
+them hope, she should ever yield to save his Life, by quitting her
+Resolution, of becoming a _Nun_; but, on the contrary, they were Tears,
+that only bewail'd her own Misfortune, in having been the occasion of
+the death of any Man, especially, a Man, who had so many Excellencies,
+as might have render'd him entirely Happy and Glorious for a long race
+of Years, had it not been his ill fortune to have seen her unlucky Face.
+She believ'd, it was for her Sins of Curiosity, and going beyond the
+Walls of the Monastery, to wander after the Vanities of the foolish
+World, that had occasion'd this Misfortune to the young Count of
+_Villenoys_, and she would put a severe Penance on her Body, for the
+Mischiefs her Eyes had done him; she fears she might, by something in
+her looks, have intic'd his Heart, for she own'd she saw him, with
+wonder at his Beauty, and much more she admir'd him, when she found the
+Beauties of his Mind; she confess'd, she had given him hope, by
+answering his Letters; and that when she found her Heart grow a little
+more than usually tender, when she thought on him, she believ'd it a
+Crime, that ought to be check'd by a Virtue, such as she pretended to
+profess, and hop'd she should ever carry to her Grave; and she desired
+his Relations to implore him, in her Name, to rest contented, in knowing
+he was the first, and should be the last, that should ever make an
+impression on her Heart; that what she had conceiv'd there, for him,
+should remain with her to her dying day, and that she besought him to
+live, that she might see, he both deserv'd this Esteem she had for him,
+and to repay it her, otherwise he would dye in her debt, and make her
+Life ever after reposeless.
+
+This being all they could get from her, they return'd with Looks that
+told their Message; however, they render'd those soft things _Isabella_
+had said, in so moving a manner, as fail'd not to please, and while he
+remain'd in this condition, the Ceremonies were compleated, of making
+_Isabella_ a _Nun_; which was a Secret to none but _Villenoys_, and from
+him it was carefully conceal'd, so that in a little time he recover'd
+his lost health, at least, so well, as to support the fatal News, and
+upon the first hearing it, he made ready his Equipage, and departed
+immediately for _Candia_; where he behav'd himself very gallantly, under
+the Command of the Duke De _Beaufort_, and, with him, return'd to
+_France_, after the loss of that noble City to the _Turks_.
+
+In all the time of his absence, that he might the sooner establish his
+Repose, he forbore sending to the fair Cruel _Nun_, and she heard no
+more of _Villenoys_ in above two years; so that giving her self wholly
+up to Devotion, there was never seen any one, who led so Austere and
+Pious a Life, as this young _Votress_; she was a Saint in the Chapel,
+and an Angel at the _Grate_: She there laid by all her severe Looks, and
+mortify'd Discourse, and being at perfect peace and tranquility within,
+she was outwardly all gay, sprightly, and entertaining, being satisfy'd,
+no Sights, no Freedoms, could give any temptations to worldly desires;
+she gave a loose to all that was modest, and that Virtue and Honour
+would permit, and was the most charming Conversation that ever was
+admir'd; and the whole World that pass'd through _Iper_; of Strangers,
+came directed and recommended to the lovely _Isabella_; I mean, those of
+Quality: But however Diverting she was at the _Grate_, she was most
+exemplary Devout in the Cloister, doing more Penance, and imposing a
+more rigid Severity and Task on her self, than was requir'd, giving such
+rare Examples to all the _Nuns_ that were less Devout, that her Life was
+a Proverb, and a President, and when they would express a very Holy
+Woman indeed, they would say, 'She was a very _ISABELLA_.'
+
+There was in this _Nunnery_, a young _Nun_, call'd, Sister _Katteriena_,
+Daughter to the Grave _Vanhenault_, that is to say, an Earl, who liv'd
+about six Miles from the Town, in a noble _Villa_; this Sister
+_Katteriena_ was not only a very beautiful Maid, but very witty, and had
+all the good qualities to make her be belov'd, and had most wonderfully
+gain'd upon the Heart of the fair _Isabella_, she was her Chamber-Fellow
+and Companion in all her Devotions and Diversions, so that where one
+was, there was the other, and they never went but together to the
+_Grate_, to the Garden, or to any place, whither their _Affairs_ call'd
+either. This young _Katteriena_ had a Brother, who lov'd her intirely,
+and came every day to see her, he was about twenty Years of Age, rather
+tall than middle Statur'd, his Hair and Eyes brown, but his Face
+exceeding beautiful, adorn'd with a thousand Graces, and the most nobly
+and exactly made, that 'twas possible for Nature to form; to the
+Fineness and Charms of his Person, he had an Air in his Meen and
+Dressing, so very agreeable, besides rich, that 'twas impossible to look
+on him, without wishing him happy, because he did so absolutely merit
+being so. His Wit and his Manner was so perfectly Obliging, a Goodness
+and Generosity so Sincere and Gallant, that it would even have aton'd
+for Ugliness. As he was eldest Son to so great a Father, he was kept at
+home, while the rest of his Brothers were employ'd in Wars abroad; this
+made him of a melancholy Temper, and fit for soft Impressions; he was
+very Bookish, and had the best Tutors that could be got, for Learning
+and Languages, and all that could compleat a Man; but was unus'd to
+Action, and of a temper Lazy, and given to Repose, so that his Father
+could hardly ever get him to use any Exercise, or so much as ride
+abroad, which he would call, Losing Time from his Studies: He car'd not
+for the Conversation of Men, because he lov'd not Debauch, as they
+usually did; so that for Exercise, more than any Design, he came on
+Horseback every day to _Iper_ to the _Monastery_, and would sit at the
+_Grate_, entertaining his Sister the most part of the Afternoon, and, in
+the Evening, retire; he had often seen and convers'd with the lovely
+_Isabella_, and found from the first sight of her, he had more Esteem
+for her, than any other of her Sex: But as Love very rarely takes Birth
+without Hope; so he never believ'd that the Pleasure he took in
+beholding her, and in discoursing with her, was Love, because he
+regarded her, as a Thing consecrate to Heaven, and never so much as
+thought to wish, she were a Mortal fit for his Addresses; yet he found
+himself more and more fill'd with Reflections on her which was not usual
+with him; he found she grew upon his Memory, and oftner came there, than
+he us'd to do, that he lov'd his Studies less, and going to _Iper_ more;
+and, that every time he went, he found a new Joy at his Heart that
+pleas'd him; he found, he could not get himself from the _Grate_,
+without Pain; nor part from the sight of that all-charming Object,
+without Sighs; and if, while he was there, any persons came to visit
+her, whose Quality she could not refuse the honour of her sight to, he
+would blush, and pant with uneasiness, especially, if they were handsom,
+and fit to make Impressions: And he would check this Uneasiness in
+himself, and ask his Heart, what it meant, by rising and beating in
+those Moments, and strive to assume an Indifferency in vain, and depart
+dissatisfy'd, and out of humour.
+
+On the other side, _Isabella_ was not so Gay as she us'd to be, but, on
+the sudden, retir'd her self more from the _Grate_ than she us'd to do,
+refus'd to receive Visits every day, and her Complexion grew a little
+pale and languid; she was observ'd not to sleep, or eat, as she us'd to
+do, nor exercise in those little Plays they made, and diverted
+themselves with, now and then; she was heard to sigh often, and it
+became the Discourse of the whole House, that she was much alter'd: The
+Lady _Abbess_, who lov'd her with a most tender Passion, was infinitely
+concern'd at this Change, and endeavour'd to find out the Cause, and
+'twas generally believ'd, she was too Devout, for now she redoubled her
+Austerity; and in cold Winter Nights, of Frost and Snow, would be up at
+all Hours, and lying upon the cold Stones, before the Altar, prostrate
+at Prayers: So that she receiv'd Orders from the Lady _Abbess_, not to
+harass her self so very much, but to have a care of her Health, as well
+as her Soul; but she regarded not these Admonitions, tho' even persuaded
+daily by her _Katteriena_, whom she lov'd every day more and more.
+
+But, one Night, when they were retir'd to their Chamber, amongst a
+thousand things that they spoke of, to pass away a tedious Evening, they
+talk'd of Pictures and Likenesses, and _Katteriena_ told _Isabella_,
+that before she was a _Nun_, in her more happy days, she was so like her
+Brother _Bernardo Henault_, (who was the same that visited them every
+day) that she would, in Men's Clothes, undertake, she should not have
+known one from t'other, and fetching out his _Picture_, she had in a
+Dressing-Box, she threw it to _Isabella_, who, at the first sight of it,
+turns as pale as Ashes, and, being ready to swound, she bid her take it
+away, and could not, for her Soul, hide the sudden surprise the
+_Picture_ brought: _Katteriena_ had too much Wit, not to make a just
+Interpretation of this Change, and (as a Woman) was naturally curious to
+pry farther, tho' Discretion should have made her been silent, for
+Talking, in such cases, does but make the Wound rage the more; 'Why, my
+dear Sister, (said _Katteriena_) is the likeness of my Brother so
+offensive to you?' _Isabella_ found by this, she had discover'd too
+much, and that Thought put her by all power of excusing it; she was
+confounded with Shame, and the more she strove to hide it, the more it
+disorder'd her; so that she (blushing extremely) hung down her Head,
+sigh'd, and confess'd all by her Looks. At last, after a considering
+Pause, she cry'd, 'My dearest Sister, I do confess, I was surpriz'd at
+the sight of Monsieur _Henault_, and much more than ever you have
+observ'd me to be at the sight of his Person, because there is scarce a
+day wherein I do not see that, and know beforehand I shall see him; I am
+prepar'd for the Encounter, and have lessen'd my Concern, or rather
+Confusion, by that time I come to the _Grate_, so much Mistress I am of
+my Passions, when they give me warning of their approach, and sure I can
+withstand the greatest assaults of Fate, if I can but foresee it; but if
+it surprize me, I find I am as feeble a Woman, as the most unresolv'd;
+you did not tell me, you had this Picture, nor say, you would shew me
+such a Picture; but when I least expect to see that Face, you shew it
+me, even in my Chamber.'
+
+'Ah, my dear Sister! (reply'd _Katteriena_) I believe, that Paleness,
+and those Blushes, proceed from some other cause, than the Nicety of
+seeing the Picture of a Man in your Chamber':
+
+'You have too much Wit, (reply'd _Isabella_) to be impos'd on by such an
+Excuse, if I were so silly to make it; but oh! my dear Sister! it was in
+my Thoughts to deceive you; could I have concealed my Pain and
+Sufferings, you should never have known them; but since I find it
+impossible, and that I am too sincere to make use of Fraud in any thing,
+'tis fit I tell you, from what cause my change of Colour proceeds, and
+to own to you, I fear, 'tis Love, if ever therefore, oh gentle pitying
+Maid! thou wert a Lover? If ever thy tender Heart were touch'd with that
+Passion? Inform me, oh! inform me, of the nature of that cruel Disease,
+and how thou found'st a Cure?'
+
+While she was speaking these words, she threw her Arms about the Neck of
+the fair _Katteriena_, and bath'd her Bosom (where she hid her Face)
+with a shower of Tears; _Katteriena_, embracing her with all the
+fondness of a dear Lover, told her, with a Sigh, that she could deny her
+nothing, and therefore confess'd to her, she had been a Lover, and that
+was the occasion of her being made a _Nun_, her Father finding out the
+Intrigue, which fatally happened to be with his own Page, a Youth of
+extraordinary Beauty. 'I was but Young, (said she) about Thirteen, and
+knew not what to call the new-known Pleasure that I felt; when e're I
+look'd upon the young _Arnaldo_, my Heart would heave, when e're he came
+in view, and my disorder'd Breath came doubly from my Bosom; a Shivering
+seiz'd me, and my Face grew wan; my Thought was at a stand, and Sense it
+self, for that short moment, lost its Faculties; But when he touch'd me,
+oh! no hunted Deer, tir'd with his flight, and just secur'd in Shades,
+pants with a nimbler motion than my Heart; at first, I thought the Youth
+had had some Magick Art, to make one faint and tremble at his touches;
+but he himself, when I accus'd his Cruelty, told me, he had no Art, but
+awful Passion, and vow'd that when I touch'd him, he was so; so
+trembling, so surprized, so charm'd, so pleas'd. When he was present,
+nothing could displease me, but when he parted from me; then 'twas
+rather a soft silent Grief, that eas'd itself by sighing, and by hoping,
+that some kind moment would restore my joy. When he was absent, nothing
+could divert me, howe're I strove, howe're I toyl'd for Mirth; no Smile,
+no Joy, dwelt in my Heart or Eyes; I could not feign, so very well I
+lov'd, impatient in his absence, I would count the tedious parting
+Hours, and pass them off like useless Visitants, whom we wish were gon;
+these are the Hours, where Life no business has, at least, a Lover's
+Life. But, oh! what Minutes seem'd the happy Hours, when on his Eyes I
+gaz'd, and he on mine, and half our Conversation lost in Sighs, Sighs,
+the soft moving Language of a Lover!'
+
+'No more, no more, (reply'd _Isabella_, throwing her Arms again about
+the Neck of the transported _Katteriena_) thou blow'st my Flame by thy
+soft Words, and mak'st me know my Weakness, and my Shame: I love!
+I love! and feel those differing Passions!'--Then pausing a moment, she
+proceeded,--'Yet so didst thou, but hast surmounted it. Now thou hast
+found the Nature of my Pain, oh! tell me thy saving Remedy?' 'Alas!
+(reply'd _Katteriena_) tho' there's but one Disease, there's many
+Remedies: They say, possession's one, but that to me seems a Riddle;
+Absence, they say, another, and that was mine; for _Arnaldo_ having by
+chance lost one of my Billets, discover'd the Amour, and was sent to
+travel, and my self forc'd into this Monastery, where at last, Time
+convinc'd me, I had lov'd below my Quality, and that sham'd me into Holy
+Orders.' 'And is it a Disease, (reply'd _Isabella_) that People often
+recover?' 'Most frequently, (said _Katteriena_) and yet some dye of the
+Disease, but very rarely.' 'Nay then, (said _Isabella_) I fear, you will
+find me one of these Martyrs; for I have already oppos'd it with the
+most severe Devotion in the World: But all my Prayers are vain, your
+lovely Brother persues me into the greatest Solitude; he meets me at my
+very Midnight Devotions, and interrupts my Prayers; he gives me a
+thousand Thoughts, that ought not to enter into a Soul dedicated to
+Heaven; he ruins all the Glory I have achiev'd, even above my Sex, for
+Piety of Life, and the Observation of all Virtues. Oh _Katteriena_! he
+has a Power in his Eyes, that transcends all the World besides: And, to
+shew the weakness of Human Nature, and how vain all our Boastings are,
+he has done that in one fatal Hour, that the persuasions of all my
+Relations and Friends, Glory, Honour, Pleasure, and all that can tempt,
+could not perform in Years; I resisted all but _Henault's_ Eyes, and
+they were Ordain'd to make me truly wretched; But yet with thy
+Assistance, and a Resolution to see him no more, and my perpetual Trust
+in Heaven, I may, perhaps, overcome this Tyrant of my Soul, who,
+I thought, had never enter'd into holy Houses, or mix'd his Devotions
+and Worship with the true Religion; but, oh! no Cells, no Cloysters, no
+Hermitages, are secur'd from his Efforts.'
+
+This Discourse she ended with abundance of Tears, and it was resolv'd,
+since she was devoted for ever to a Holy Life, That it was best for her
+to make it as easy to her as was possible; in order to it, and the
+banishing this fond and useless Passion from her Heart, it was very
+necessary, she should see _Henault_ no more: At first, _Isabella_ was
+afraid, that, in refusing to see him, he might mistrust her Passion; but
+_Katteriena_ who was both Pious and Discreet, and endeavour'd truly to
+cure her of so violent a Disease, which must, she knew, either end in
+her death or destruction, told her, She would take care of that matter,
+that it should not blemish her Honour; and so leaving her a while, after
+they had resolved on this, she left her in a thousand Confusions, she
+was now another Woman than what she had hitherto been; she was quite
+alter'd in every Sentiment, thought and Notion; she now repented, she
+had promis'd not to see _Henault_; she trembled and even fainted, for
+fear she should see him no more; she was not able to bear that thought,
+it made her rage within, like one possest, and all her Virtue could not
+calm her; yet since her word was past, and, as she was, she could not,
+without great Scandal, break it in that point, she resolv'd to dye a
+thousand Deaths, rather than not perform her Promise made to
+_Katteriena_; but 'tis not to be express'd what she endur'd; what Fits,
+Pains, and Convulsions, she sustain'd; and how much ado she had to
+dissemble to Dame _Katteriena_, who soon return'd to the afflicted Maid;
+the next day, about the time that _Henault_ was to come, as he usually
+did, about two or three a Clock after Noon, 'tis impossible to express
+the uneasiness of _Isabella_; she ask'd, a thousand times, 'What, is not
+your Brother come?' When Dame _Katteriena_ would reply, 'Why do you
+ask?' She would say, 'Because I would be sure not to see him': 'You need
+not fear, Madam, (reply'd _Katteriena_) for you shall keep your
+Chamber.' She need not have urg'd that, for _Isabella_ was very ill
+without knowing it, and in a Feaver.
+
+At last, one of the _Nuns_ came up, and told Dame _Katteriena_, that her
+Brother was at the _Grate_, and she desired, he should be bid come about
+to the Private _Grate_ above stairs, which he did, and she went to him,
+leaving _Isabella_ even dead on the Bed, at the very name of _Henault_:
+But the more she conceal'd her Flame, the more violently it rag'd, which
+she strove in vain by Prayers, and those Recourses of Solitude to
+lessen; all this did but augment the Pain, and was Oyl to the Fire, so
+that she now could hope, that nothing but Death would put an end to her
+Griefs, and her Infamy. She was eternally thinking on him, how handsome
+his Face, how delicate every Feature, how charming his Air, how graceful
+his Meen, how soft and good his Disposition, and how witty and
+entertaining his Conversation. She now fancy'd, she was at the _Grate_,
+talking to him as she us'd to be, and blest those happy Hours she past
+then, and bewail'd her Misfortune, that she is no more destin'd to be so
+Happy, then gives a loose to Grief; Griefs, at which, no Mortals, but
+Despairing Lovers, can guess, or how tormenting they are; where the most
+easie Moments are, those, wherein one resolves to kill ones self, and
+the happiest Thought is Damnation; but from these Imaginations, she
+endeavours to fly, all frighted with horror; but, alas! whither would
+she fly, but to a Life more full of horror? She considers well, she
+cannot bear Despairing Love, and finds it impossible to cure her
+Despair; she cannot fly from the Thoughts of the Charming _Henault_, and
+'tis impossible to quit 'em; and, at this rate, she found, Life could
+not long support it self, but would either reduce her to Madness, and so
+render her an hated Object of Scorn to the Censuring World, or force her
+Hand to commit a Murder upon her self. This she had found, this she had
+well consider'd, nor could her fervent and continual Prayers, her
+nightly Watchings, her Mortifications on the cold Marble in long Winter
+Season, and all her Acts of Devotion abate one spark of this shameful
+Feaver of Love, that was destroying her within. When she had rag'd and
+struggled with this unruly Passion, 'till she was quite tir'd and
+breathless, finding all her force in vain, she fill'd her fancy with a
+thousand charming _Ideas_ of the lovely _Henault_, and, in that soft
+fit, had a mind to satisfy her panting Heart, and give it one Joy more,
+by beholding the Lord of its Desires, and the Author of its Pains:
+Pleas'd, yet trembling, at this Resolve, she rose from the Bed where she
+was laid, and softly advanc'd to the Stair-Case, from whence there
+open'd that Room where Dame _Katteriena_ was, and where there was a
+private _Grate_, at which, she was entertaining her _Brother_; they were
+earnest in Discourse, and so loud, that _Isabella_ could easily hear all
+they said, and the first words were from _Katteriena_, who, in a sort of
+Anger, cry'd, 'Urge me no more! My Virtue is too nice, to become an
+Advocate for a Passion, that can tend to nothing but your Ruin; for,
+suppose I should tell the fair _Isabella_, you dye for her, what can it
+avail you? What hope can any Man have, to move the Heart of a Virgin, so
+averse to Love? A Virgin, whose Modesty and Virtue is so very curious,
+it would fly the very word, Love, as some monstrous Witchcraft, or the
+foulest of Sins, who would loath me for bringing so lewd a Message, and
+banish you her Sight, as the Object of her Hate and Scorn; is it unknown
+to you, how many of the noblest Youths of _Flanders_ have address'd
+themselves to her in vain, when yet she was in the World? Have you been
+ignorant, how the young Count de _Villenoys_ languished, in vain, almost
+to Death for her? And, that no Persuasions, no Attractions in him, no
+wordly Advantages, or all his Pleadings, who had a Wit and Spirit
+capable of prevailing on any Heart, less severe and harsh, than hers? Do
+you not know, that all was lost on this insensible fair one, even when
+she was a proper Object for the Adoration of the Young and Amorous? And
+can you hope, now she has so entirely wedded her future days to
+Devotion, and given all to Heaven; nay, lives a Life here more like a
+Saint, than a Woman; rather an Angel, than a mortal Creature? Do you
+imagin, with any Rhetorick you can deliver, now to turn the Heart, and
+whole Nature, of this Divine Maid, to consider your Earthly Passion? No,
+'tis fondness, and an injury to her Virtue, to harbour such a Thought;
+quit it, quit it, my dear Brother! before it ruin your Repose.' 'Ah,
+Sister! (replied the dejected _Henault_) your Counsel comes too late,
+and your Reasons are of too feeble force, to rebate those Arrows, the
+Charming _Isabella's_ Eyes have fix'd in my Heart and Soul; and I am
+undone, unless she know my Pain, which I shall dye, before I shall ever
+dare mention to her; but you, young Maids, have a thousand Familiarities
+together, can jest, and play, and say a thousand things between Railery
+and Earnest, that may first hint what you would deliver, and insinuate
+into each others Hearts a kind of Curiosity to know more; for naturally,
+(my dear Sister) Maids, are curious and vain; and however Divine the
+Mind of the fair _Isabella_ may be, it bears the Tincture still of
+Mortal Woman.'
+
+'Suppose this true, how could this Mortal part about her Advantage you,
+(said _Katteriena_) all that you can expect from this Discovery, (if she
+should be content to hear it, and to return you pity) would be, to make
+her wretched, like your self? What farther can you hope?' 'Oh! talk not,
+(replied _Henault_) of so much Happiness! I do not expect to be so
+blest, that she should pity me, or love to a degree of Inquietude; 'tis
+sufficient, for the ease of my Heart, that she know its Pains, and what
+it suffers for her; that she would give my Eyes leave to gaze upon her,
+and my Heart to vent a Sigh now and then; and, when I dare, to give me
+leave to speak, and tell her of my Passion; This, this, is all, my
+Sister.' And, at that word, the Tears glided down his Cheeks, and he
+declin'd his Eyes, and set a Look so charming, and so sad, that
+_Isabella_, whose Eyes were fix'd upon him, was a thousand times ready
+to throw her self into the Room, and to have made a Confession, how
+sensible she was of all she had heard and seen: But, with much ado, she
+contain'd and satisfy'd her self, with knowing, that she was ador'd by
+him whom she ador'd, and, with Prudence that is natural to her, she
+withdrew, and waited with patience the event of their Discourse. She
+impatiently long'd to know, how _Katteriena_ would manage this Secret
+her Brother had given her, and was pleas'd, that the Friendship and
+Prudence of that Maid had conceal'd her Passion from her Brother; and
+now contented and joyful beyond imagination, to find her self belov'd,
+she knew she could dissemble her own Passion and make him the first
+Aggressor; the first that lov'd, or at least, that should seem to do so.
+This Thought restores her so great a part of her Peace of Mind, that she
+resolv'd to see him, and to dissemble with _Katteriena_ so far, as to
+make her believe, she had subdu'd that Passion, she was really asham'd
+to own; she now, with her Woman's Skill, begins to practise an Art she
+never before understood, and has recourse to Cunning, and resolves to
+seem to reassume her former Repose: But hearing _Katteriena_ approach,
+she laid her self again on her Bed, where she had left her, but compos'd
+her Face to more chearfulness, and put on a Resolution that indeed
+deceiv'd the Sister, who was extreamly pleased, she said, to see her
+look so well: When _Isabella_ reply'd, 'Yes, I am another Woman now;
+I hope Heaven has heard, and granted, my long and humble Supplications,
+and driven from my Heart this tormenting God, that has so long disturb'd
+my purer Thoughts.' 'And are you sure, (said Dame _Katteriena_) that
+this wanton Deity is repell'd by the noble force of your Resolutions? Is
+he never to return?' 'No, (replied _Isabella_) never to my Heart.' 'Yes,
+(said _Katteriena_) if you should see the lovely Murderer of your
+Repose, your Wound would bleed anew.' At this, _Isabella_ smiling with a
+little Disdain, reply'd, 'Because you once to love, and _Henault's_
+Charms defenceless found me, ah! do you think I have no Fortitude? But
+so in Fondness lost, remiss in Virtue, that when I have resolv'd, (and
+see it necessary for my after-Quiet) to want the power of keeping that
+Resolution? No, scorn me, and despise me then, as lost to all the
+Glories of my Sex, and all that Nicety I've hitherto preserv'd.' There
+needed no more from a Maid of _Isabella's_ Integrity and Reputation, to
+convince any one of the Sincerity of what she said, since, in the whole
+course of her Life, she never could be charg'd with an Untruth, or an
+Equivocation; and _Katteriena_ assur'd her, she believ'd her, and was
+infinitely glad she had vanquish'd a Passion, that would have prov'd
+destructive to her Repose: _Isabella_ reply'd, She had not altogether
+vanquish'd her Passion, she did not boast of so absolute a power over
+her soft Nature, but had resolv'd things great, and Time would work the
+Cure; that she hop'd, _Katteriena_ would make such Excuses to her
+Brother, for her not appearing at the _Grate_ so gay and entertaining as
+she us'd, and, by a little absence, she should retrieve the Liberty she
+had lost: But she desir'd, such Excuses might be made for her, that
+young _Henault_ might not perceive the Reason. At the naming him, she
+had much ado not to shew some Concern extraordinary, and _Katteriena_
+assur'd her, She had now a very good Excuse to keep from the _Grate_,
+when he was at it; 'For, (said she) now you have resolv'd, I may tell
+you, he is dying for you, raving in Love, and has this day made me
+promise to him, to give you some account of his Passion, and to make you
+sensible of his Languishment: I had not told you this, (reply'd
+_Katteriena_) but that I believe you fortify'd with brave Resolution and
+Virtue, and that this knowledge will rather put you more upon your
+Guard, than you were before.' While she spoke, she fixed her Eyes on
+_Isabella_, to see what alteration it would make in her Heart and Looks;
+but the Master-piece of this young Maid's Art was shewn in this minute,
+for she commanded her self so well, that her very Looks dissembled and
+shew'd no concern at a Relation, that made her Soul dance with Joy; but
+it was, what she was prepar'd for, or else I question her Fortitude.
+But, with a Calmness, which absolutely subdu'd _Katteriena_, she
+reply'd, 'I am almost glad he has confess'd a Passion for me, and you
+shall confess to him, you told me of it, and that I absent my self from
+the _Grate_, on purpose to avoid the sight of a Man, who durst love me,
+and confess it; and I assure you, my dear Sister! (continued she,
+dissembling) You could not have advanc'd my Cure by a more effectual
+way, than telling me of his Presumption.' At that word, _Katteriena_
+joyfully related to her all that had pass'd between young _Henault_ and
+her self, and how he implor'd her Aid in this Amour; at the end of which
+Relation, _Isabella_ smil'd, and carelesly reply'd, 'I pity him': And so
+going to their Devotion, they had no more Discourse of the Lover.
+
+In the mean time, young _Henault_ was a little satisfy'd, to know, his
+Sister would discover his Passion to the lovely _Isabella_; and though
+he dreaded the return, he was pleas'd that she should know, she had a
+Lover that ador'd her, though even without hope; for though the thought
+of possessing _Isabella_, was the most ravishing that could be; yet he
+had a dread upon him, when he thought of it, for he could not hope to
+accomplish that, without Sacrilege; and he was a young Man, very Devout,
+and even bigotted in Religion; and would often question and debate
+within himself, that, if it were possible, he should come to be belov'd
+by this Fair Creature, and that it were possible for her, to grant all
+that Youth in Love could require, whether he should receive the Blessing
+offer'd? And though he ador'd the Maid, whether he should not abhor the
+_Nun_ in his Embraces? 'Twas an undetermin'd Thought, that chill'd his
+Fire as often as it approach'd; but he had too many that rekindled it
+again with the greater Flame and Ardor.
+
+His impatience to know, what Success _Katteriena_ had, with the Relation
+she was to make to _Isabella_ in his behalf, brought him early to _Iper_
+the next day. He came again to the private _Grate_, where his Sister
+receiving him, and finding him, with a sad and dejected Look, expect
+what she had to say; she told him, That Look well became the News she
+had for him, it being such, as ought to make him, both Griev'd, and
+Penitent; for, to obey him, she had so absolutely displeas'd _Isabella_,
+that she was resolv'd never to believe her her Friend more, 'Or to see
+you, (said she) therefore, as you have made me commit a Crime against my
+Conscience, against my Order, against my Friendship, and against my
+Honour, you ought to do some brave thing; take some noble Resolution,
+worthy of your Courage, to redeem all; for your Repose, I promis'd,
+I would let Isabella know you lov'd, and, for the mitigation of my
+Crime, you ought to let me tell her, you have surmounted your Passion,
+as the last Remedy of Life and Fame.'
+
+At these her last words, the Tears gush'd from his Eyes, and he was able
+only, a good while, to sigh; at last, cry'd, 'What! see her no more! see
+the Charming _Isabella_ no more!' And then vented the Grief of his Soul
+in so passionate a manner, as his Sister had all the Compassion
+imaginable for him, but thought it great Sin and Indiscretion to cherish
+his Flame: So that, after a while, having heard her Counsel, he reply'd,
+'And is this all, my Sister, you will do to save a Brother?' 'All!
+(reply'd she) I would not be the occasion of making a _NUN_ violate her
+Vow, to save a Brother's Life, no, nor my own; assure your self of this,
+and take it as my last Resolution: Therefore, if you will be content
+with the Friendship of this young Lady, and so behave your self, that we
+may find no longer the Lover in the Friend, we shall reassume our former
+Conversation, and live with you, as we ought; otherwise, your Presence
+will continually banish her from the _Grate_, and, in time, make both
+her you love, and your self, a Town Discourse.'
+
+Much more to this purpose she said, to dissuade him, and bid him retire,
+and keep himself from thence, till he could resolve to visit them
+without a Crime; and she protested, if he did not do this, and master
+his foolish Passion, she would let her Father understand his Conduct,
+who was a Man of temper so very precise, that should he believe, his Son
+should have a thought of Love to a Virgin vow'd to Heaven, he would
+abandon him to Shame, and eternal Poverty, by disinheriting him of all
+he could: Therefore, she said, he ought to lay all this to his Heart,
+and weigh it with his unheedy Passion. While the Sister talk'd thus
+wisely, _Henault_ was not without his Thoughts, but consider'd as she
+spoke, but did not consider in the right place; he was not considering,
+how to please a Father, and save an Estate, but how to manage the matter
+so, to establish himself, as he was before with _Isabella_; for he
+imagin'd, since already she knew his Passion, and that if after that she
+would be prevail'd with to see him, he might, some lucky Minute or
+other, have the pleasure of speaking for himself, at least, he should
+again see and talk to her, which was a joyful Thought in the midst of so
+many dreadful ones: And, as if he had known what pass'd in _Isabella's_
+Heart, he, by a strange sympathy, took the same measures to deceive
+_Katteriena_, a well-meaning young Lady, and easily impos'd on from her
+own Innocence, he resolv'd to dissemble Patience, since he must have
+that Virtue, and own'd, his Sister's Reasons were just, and ought to be
+persu'd; that she had argu'd him into half his Peace, and that he would
+endeavour to recover the rest; that Youth ought to be pardon'd a
+thousand Failings, and Years would reduce him to a condition of laughing
+at his Follies of Youth, but that grave Direction was not yet arriv'd:
+And so desiring, she would pray for his Conversion, and that she would
+recommend him to the Devotions of the Fair _Isabella_, he took his
+leave, and came no more to the _Nunnery_ in ten Days; in all which time,
+none but Impatient Lovers can guess, what Pain and Languishments
+_Isabella_ suffer'd, not knowing the Cause of his Absence, nor daring to
+enquire; but she bore it out so admirably, that Dame _Katteriena_ never
+so much as suspected she had any Thoughts of that nature that perplex'd
+her, and now believ'd indeed she had conquer'd all her Uneasiness: And
+one day, when _Isabella_ and she were alone together, she ask'd that
+fair Dissembler, if she did not admire at the Conduct and Resolution of
+her Brother? 'Why!' (reply'd _Isabella_ unconcernedly, while her Heart
+was fainting within, for fear of ill News:) With that, _Katteriena_ told
+her the last Discourse she had with her Brother, and how at last she had
+persuaded him (for her sake) to quit his Passion; and that he had
+promis'd, he would endeavour to surmount it; and that, that was the
+reason he was absent now, and they were to see him no more, till he had
+made a Conquest over himself. You may assure your self, this News was
+not so welcom to _Isabella_, as _Katteriena_ imagin'd; yet still she
+dissembled, with a force, beyond what the most cunning Practitioner
+could have shewn, and carry'd her self before People, as if no Pressures
+had lain upon her Heart; but when alone retir'd, in order to her
+Devotion, she would vent her Griefs in the most deplorable manner, that
+a distress'd distracted Maid could do, and which, in spite of all her
+severe Penances, she found no abatement of.
+
+At last _Henault_ came again to the _Monastery_, and, with a Look as gay
+as he could possibly assume, he saw his Sister, and told her, He had
+gain'd an absolute Victory over his Heart; and desir'd, he might see
+_Isabella_, only to convince, both her, and _Katteriena_, that he was no
+longer a Lover of that fair Creature, that had so lately charm'd him;
+that he had set Five thousand Pounds a Year, against a fruitless
+Passion, and found the solid Gold much the heavier in the Scale: And he
+smil'd, and talk'd the whole Day of indifferent things, with his Sister,
+and ask'd no more for _Isabella_; nor did _Isabella_ look, or ask, after
+him, but in her Heart. Two Months pass'd in this Indifference, till it
+was taken notice of, that Sister _Isabella_ came not to the _Grate_,
+when _Henault_ was there, as she us'd to do; this being spoken to Dame
+_Katteriena_, she told it to _Isabella_, and said, 'The _NUNS_ would
+believe, there was some Cause for her Absence, if she did not appear
+again': That if she could trust her Heart, she was sure she could trust
+her Brother, for he thought no more of her, she was confident; this, in
+lieu of pleasing, was a Dagger to the Heart of _Isabella_, who thought
+it time to retrieve the flying Lover, and therefore told _Katteriena_,
+She would the next Day entertain at the Low _Grate_, as she was wont to
+do, and accordingly, as soon as any People of Quality came, she appear'd
+there, where she had not been two Minutes, but she saw the lovely
+_Henault_, and it was well for both, that People were in the Room, they
+had else both sufficiently discover'd their Inclinations, or rather
+their not to be conceal'd Passions; after the General Conversation was
+over, by the going away of the Gentlemen that were at the _Grate_,
+_Katteriena_ being employ'd elsewhere, _Isabella_ was at last left alone
+with _Henault_; but who can guess the Confusion of these two Lovers, who
+wish'd, yet fear'd, to know each others Thoughts? She trembling with a
+dismal Apprehension, that he lov'd no more; and he almost dying with
+fear, she should Reproach or Upbraid him with his Presumption; so that
+both being possess'd with equal Sentiments of Love, Fear, and Shame,
+they both stood fix'd with dejected Looks and Hearts, that heav'd with
+stifled Sighs. At last, _Isabella_, the softer and tender-hearted of the
+two, tho' not the most a Lover perhaps, not being able to contain her
+Love any longer within the bounds of Dissimulation or Discretion, being
+by Nature innocent, burst out into Tears, and all fainting with pressing
+Thoughts within, she fell languishly into a Chair that stood there,
+while the distracted _Henault_, who could not come to her Assistance,
+and finding Marks of Love, rather than Anger or Disdain, in that
+Confusion of _Isabella's_, throwing himself on his Knees at the _Grate_,
+implor'd her to behold him, to hear him, and to pardon him, who dy'd
+every moment for her, and who ador'd her with a violent Ardor; but yet,
+with such an one, as should (tho' he perish'd with it) be conformable to
+her Commands; and as he spoke, the Tears stream'd down his dying Eyes,
+that beheld her with all the tender Regard that ever Lover was capable
+of; she recover'd a little, and turn'd her too beautiful Face to him,
+and pierc'd him with a Look, that darted a thousand Joys and Flames into
+his Heart, with Eyes, that told him her Heart was burning and dying for
+him; for which Assurances, he made Ten thousand Asseverations of his
+never-dying Passion, and expressing as many Raptures and Excesses of
+Joy, to find her Eyes and Looks confess, he was not odious to her, and
+that the knowledge he was her Lover, did not make her hate him: In fine,
+he spoke so many things all soft and moving, and so well convinc'd her
+of his Passion, that she at last was compell'd by a mighty force,
+absolutely irresistible, to speak.
+
+'Sir, (said she) perhaps you will wonder, where I, a Maid, brought up in
+the simplicity of Virtue, should learn the Confidence, not only to hear
+of Love from you, but to confess I am sensible of the most violent of
+its Pain my self; and I wonder, and am amazed at my own Daring, that I
+should have the Courage, rather to speak, than dye, and bury it in
+silence; but such is my Fate. Hurried by an unknown Force, which I have
+endeavoured always, in vain, to resist, I am compell'd to tell you,
+I love you, and have done so from the first moment I saw you; and you
+are the only Man born to give me Life or Death, to make me Happy or
+Blest; perhaps, had I not been confin'd, and, as it were, utterly forbid
+by my Vow, as well as my Modesty, to tell you this, I should not have
+been so miserable to have fallen thus low, as to have confess'd my
+Shame; but our Opportunities of Speaking are so few, and Letters so
+impossible to be sent without discovery, that perhaps this is the only
+time I shall ever have to speak with you alone.' And, at that word the
+Tears flow'd abundantly from her Eyes, and gave _Henault_ leave to
+speak. 'Ah Madam! (said he) do not, as soon as you have rais'd me to the
+greatest Happiness in the World, throw me with one word beneath your
+Scorn, much easier 'tis to dye, and know I am lov'd, than never, never,
+hope to hear that blessed sound again from that beautiful Mouth: Ah,
+Madam! rather let me make use of this one opportunity our happy Luck has
+given us, and contrive how we may for ever see, and speak, to each
+other; let us assure one another, there are a thousand ways to escape a
+place so rigid, as denies us that Happiness; and denies the fairest Maid
+in the World, the privilege of her Creation, and the end to which she
+was form'd so Angelical.' And seeing _Isabella_ was going to speak, lest
+she should say something, that might dissuade from an Attempt so
+dangerous and wicked, he persu'd to tell her, it might be indeed the
+last moment Heaven would give 'em, and besought her to answer him what
+he implor'd, whether she would fly with him from the _Monastery_? At
+this Word, she grew pale, and started, as at some dreadful Sound, and
+cry'd, 'Hah! what is't you say? Is it possible, you should propose a
+thing so wicked? And can it enter into your Imagination, because I have
+so far forget my Virtue, and my Vow, to become a Lover, I should
+therefore fall to so wretched a degree of Infamy and Reprobation? No,
+name it to me no more, if you would see me; and if it be as you say,
+a Pleasure to be belov'd by me; for I will sooner dye, than yield to
+what . . . Alas! I but too well approve!' These last words, she spoke
+with a fainting Tone, and the Tears fell anew from her fair soft Eyes.
+'If it be so,' said he, (with a Voice so languishing, it could scarce be
+heard) 'If it be so, and that you are resolv'd to try, if my Love be
+eternal without Hope, without expectation of any other Joy, than seeing
+and adoring you through the _Grate_; I am, and must, and will be
+contented, and you shall see, I can prefer the Sighing to these cold
+Irons, that separate us, before all the Possessions of the rest of the
+World; that I chuse rather to lead my Life here, at this cruel Distance
+from you, for ever, than before the Embrace of all the Fair; and you
+shall see, how pleas'd I will be, to languish here; but as you see me
+decay, (for surely so I shall) do not triumph o're my languid Looks, and
+laugh at my Pale and meager Face; but, Pitying, say, How easily I might
+have preserv'd that Face, those Eyes, and all that Youth and Vigour, now
+no more, from this total Ruine I now behold it in, and love your Slave
+that dyes, and will be daily and visibly dying, as long as my Eyes can
+gaze on that fair Object, and my Soul be fed and kept alive with her
+Charming Wit and Conversation; if Love can live on such Airy Food, (tho'
+rich in it self, yet unfit, alone, to sustain Life) it shall be for ever
+dedicated to the lovely _ISABELLA_: But, oh! that time cannot be long!
+Fate will not lend her Slave many days, who loves too violently, to be
+satisfy'd to enjoy the fair Object of his Desires, no otherwise than at
+a _Grate_.'
+
+He ceas'd speaking, for Sighs and Tears stopt his Voice, and he begg'd
+the liberty to sit down; and his Looks being quite alter'd, _ISABELLA_
+found her self touch'd to the very Soul, with a concern the most tender,
+that ever yielding Maid was oppress'd with: She had no power to suffer
+him to Languish, while she by one soft word could restore him, and being
+about to say a thousand things that would have been agreeable to him,
+she saw herself approach'd by some of the _Nuns_, and only had time to
+say, 'If you love me, live and hope.' The rest of the _Nuns_ began to
+ask _Henault_ of News, for he always brought them all that was Novel in
+the Town, and they were glad still of his Visits, above all other, for
+they heard, how all Amours and Intrigues pass'd in the World, by this
+young Cavalier. These last words of _Isabella's_ were a Cordial to his
+Soul, and he, from that, and to conceal the present Affair, endeavour'd
+to assume all the Gaity he could, and told 'em all he could either
+remember, or invent, to please 'em, tho' he wish'd them a great way off
+at that time.
+
+Thus they pass'd the day, till it was a decent hour for him to quit the
+_Grate_, and for them to draw the Curtain; all that Night did _Isabella_
+dedicate to Love, she went to Bed, with a Resolution, to think over all
+she had to do, and to consider, how she should manage this great Affair
+of her Life: I have already said, she had try'd all that was possible in
+Human Strength to perform, in the design of quitting a Passion so
+injurious to her Honour and Virtue, and found no means possible to
+accomplish it: She had try'd Fasting long, Praying fervently, rigid
+Penances and Pains, severe Disciplines, all the Mortification, almost to
+the destruction of Life it self, to conquer the unruly Flame; but still
+it burnt and rag'd but the more; so, at last, she was forc'd to permit
+that to conquer her, she could not conquer, and submitted to her Fate,
+as a thing destin'd her by Heaven it self; and after all this
+opposition, she fancy'd it was resisting even Divine Providence, to
+struggle any longer with her Heart; and this being her real Belief, she
+the more patiently gave way to all the Thoughts that pleas'd her.
+
+As soon as she was laid, without discoursing (as she us'd to do) to
+_Katteriena_, after they were in Bed, she pretended to be sleepy, and
+turning from her, setled her self to profound Thinking, and was resolv'd
+to conclude the Matter, between her Heart, and her Vow of Devotion, that
+Night, and she, having no more to determine, might end the Affair
+accordingly, the first opportunity she should have to speak to
+_Henault_, which was, to fly, and marry him; or, to remain for ever
+fix'd to her Vow of Chastity. This was the Debate; she brings Reason on
+both sides: Against the first, she sets the Shame of a Violated Vow, and
+considers, where she shall shew her Face after such an Action; to the
+Vow, she argues, that she was born in Sin, and could not live without
+it; that she was Human, and no Angel, and that, possibly, that Sin might
+be as soon forgiven, as another; that since all her devout Endeavours
+could not defend her from the Cause, Heaven ought to execute the Effect;
+that as to shewing her Face, so she saw that of _Henault_ always turned
+(Charming as it was) towards her with love; what had she to do with the
+World, or car'd to behold any other?
+
+Some times, she thought, it would be more Brave and Pious to dye, than
+to break her Vow; but she soon answer'd that, as false Arguing, for
+Self-Murder was the worst of Sins, and in the Deadly Number. She could,
+after such an Action, live to repent, and, of two Evils, she ought to
+chuse the least; she dreads to think, since she had so great a
+Reputation for Virtue and Piety, both in the _Monastery_, and in the
+World, what they both would say, when she should commit an Action so
+contrary to both these, she posest; but, after a whole Night's Debate,
+Love was strongest, and gain'd the Victory. She never went about to
+think, how she should escape, because she knew it would be easy, the
+keeping of the Key of the _Monastery_, [was] often intrusted in her
+keeping, and was, by turns, in the hands of many more, whose Virtue and
+Discretion was Infallible, and out of Doubt; besides, her Aunt being the
+Lady _Abbess_, she had greater privilege than the rest; so that she had
+no more to do, she thought, than to acquaint _Henault_ with her Design,
+as soon as she should get an opportunity. Which was not quickly; but, in
+the mean time, _Isabella's_ Father dy'd, which put some little stop to
+our Lover's Happiness, and gave her a short time of Grief; but Love,
+who, while he is new and young, can do us Miracles, soon wip'd her Eyes,
+and chas'd away all Sorrows from her Heart, and grew every day more and
+more impatient, to put her new Design in Execution, being every day more
+resolv'd. Her Father's Death had remov'd one Obstacle, and secur'd her
+from his Reproaches; and now she only wants Opportunity, first, to
+acquaint _Henault_, and then to fly.
+
+She waited not long, all things concurring to her desire; for
+_Katteriena_ falling sick, she had the good luck, as she call'd it then,
+to entertain _Henault_ at the _Grate_ oftentimes alone; the first moment
+she did so, she entertain'd him with the good News, and told him, She
+had at last vanquish'd her Heart in favour of him, and loving him above
+all things, Honour, her Vow or Reputation, had resolv'd to abandon her
+self wholly to him, to give her self up to love and serve him, and that
+she had no other Consideration in the World; but _Henault_, instead of
+returning her an Answer, all Joy and Satisfaction, held down his Eyes,
+and Sighing, with a dejected Look, he cry'd, 'Ah, Madam! Pity a Man so
+wretched and undone, as not to be sensible of this Blessing as I ought.'
+She grew pale at this Reply, and trembling, expected he would proceed:
+''Tis not (continued he) that I want Love, tenderest Passion, and all
+the desire Youth and Love can inspire; But, Oh, Madam! when I consider,
+(for raving mad in Love as I am for your sake, I do consider) that if I
+should take you from this Repose, Nobly Born and Educated, as you are;
+and, for that Act, should find a rigid Father deprive me of all that
+ought to support you, and afford your Birth, Beauty, and Merits, their
+due, what would you say? How would you Reproach me?' He sighing,
+expected her Answer, when Blushes overspreading her Face, she reply'd,
+in a Tone all haughty and angry, 'Ah, _Henault_! Am I then refus'd,
+after having abandon'd all things for you? Is it thus, you reward my
+Sacrific'd Honour, Vows, and Virtue? Cannot you hazard the loss of
+Fortune to possess _Isabella_, who loses all for you!' Then bursting
+into Tears, at her misfortune of Loving, she suffer'd him to say, 'Oh,
+Charming fair one! how industrious is your Cruelty, to find out new
+Torments for an Heart, already press'd down with the Severities of Love?
+Is it possible, you can make so unhappy a Construction of the tenderest
+part of my Passion? And can you imagin it want of Love in me, to
+consider, how I shall preserve and merit the vast Blessing Heaven has
+given me? Is my Care a Crime? And would not the most deserving Beauty of
+the World hate me, if I should, to preserve my Life, and satisfy the
+Passion of my fond Heart, reduce her to the Extremities of Want and
+Misery? And is there any thing, in what I have said, but what you ought
+to take for the greatest Respect and tenderness!' 'Alas! (reply'd
+_Isabella_ sighing) young as I am, all unskilful in Love I find, but
+what I feel, that Discretion is no part of it; and Consideration,
+inconsistent with the Nobler Passion, who will subsist of its own
+Nature, and Love unmixed with any other Sentiment? And 'tis not pure, if
+it be otherwise: I know, had I mix'd Discretion with mine, my Love must
+have been less, I never thought of living, but my Love; and, if I
+consider'd at all, it was, that Grandure and Magnificence were useless
+Trifles to Lovers, wholly needless and troublesom. I thought of living
+in some loanly Cottage, far from the noise of crowded busie Cities, to
+walk with thee in Groves, and silent Shades, where I might hear no Voice
+but thine; and when we had been tir'd, to sit us done by some cool
+murmuring Rivulet, and be to each a World, my Monarch thou, and I thy
+Sovereign Queen, while Wreaths of Flowers shall crown our happy Heads,
+some fragrant Bank our Throne, and Heaven our Canopy: Thus we might
+laugh at Fortune, and the Proud, despise the duller World, who place
+their Joys in mighty Shew and Equipage. Alas! my Nature could not bear
+it, I am unus'd to Wordly Vanities, and would boast of nothing but my
+_Henault_; no Riches, but his Love; no Grandure, but his Presence.' She
+ended speaking, with Tears, and he reply'd, 'Now, now, I find, my
+_Isabella_ loves indeed, when she's content to abandon the World for my
+sake; Oh! thou hast named the only happy Life that suits my quiet
+Nature, to be retir'd, has always been my Joy! But to be so with thee!
+Oh! thou hast charm'd me with a Thought so dear, as has for ever
+banish'd all my Care, but how to receive thy Goodness! Please think no
+more what my angry Parent may do, when he shall hear, how I have
+dispos'd of my self against his Will and Pleasure, but trust to Love and
+Providence; no more! be gone all Thoughts, but those of _Isabella_!'
+
+As soon as he had made an end of expressing his Joy, he fell to
+consulting how, and when, she should escape; and since it was uncertain,
+when she should be offer'd the Key, for she would not ask for it, she
+resolv'd to give him notice, either by word of Mouth, or a bit of Paper
+she would write in, and give him through the _Grate_ the first
+opportunity; and, parting for that time, they both resolv'd to get up
+what was possible for their Support, till Time should reconcile Affairs
+and Friends, and to wait the happy hour.
+
+_Isabella's_ dead Mother had left Jewels, of the value of 2000_l._ to
+her Daughter, at her Decease, which Jewels were in the possession, now,
+of the Lady _Abbess_, and were upon Sale, to be added to the Revenue of
+the _Monastery_; and as _Isabella_ was the most Prudent of her Sex, at
+least, had hitherto been so esteem'd, she was intrusted with all that
+was in possession of the Lady _Abbess_, and 'twas not difficult to make
+her self Mistress of all her own Jewels; as also, some 3 or 400_l._ in
+Gold, that was hoarded up in her Ladyship's Cabinet, against any
+Accidents that might arrive to the _Monastery_; these _Isabella_ also
+made her own, and put up with the Jewels; and having acquainted
+_Henault_, with the Day and Hour of her Escape, he got together what he
+could, and waiting for her, with his Coach, one Night, when no body was
+awake but her self, when rising softly, as she us'd to do, in the Night,
+to her Devotion, she stole so dexterously out of the _Monastery_, as no
+body knew any thing of it; she carry'd away the Keys with her, after
+having lock'd all the Doors, for she was intrusted often with all. She
+found _Henault_ waiting in his Coach, and trusted none but an honest
+Coachman that lov'd him; he receiv'd her with all the Transports of a
+truly ravish'd Lover, and she was infinitely charm'd with the new
+Pleasure of his Embraces and Kisses.
+
+They drove out of Town immediately, and because she durst not be seen in
+that Habit, (for it had been immediate Death for both) they drove into a
+Thicket some three Miles from the Town, where _Henault_ having brought
+her some of his younger Sister's Clothes, he made her put off her Habit,
+and put on those; and, rending the other, they hid them in a Sand-pit,
+covered over with Broom, and went that Night forty Miles from _Iper_, to
+a little Town upon the River _Rhine_, where, changing their Names, they
+were forthwith married, and took a House in a Country Village, a Farm,
+where they resolv'd to live retir'd, by the name of _Beroone_, and drove
+a Farming Trade; however, not forgetting to set Friends and Engines at
+work, to get their Pardon, as Criminals, first, that had trangress'd the
+Law; and, next, as disobedient Persons, who had done contrary to the
+Will and Desire of their Parents: _Isabella_ writ to her Aunt the most
+moving Letters in the World, so did _Henault_ to his Father; but she was
+a long time, before she could gain so much as an answer from her Aunt,
+and _Henault_ was so unhappy, as never to gain one from his Father; who
+no sooner heard the News that was spread over all the Town and Country,
+that young _Henault_ was fled with the so fam'd _Isabella_, a _Nun_, and
+singular for Devotion and Piety of Life, but he immediately setled his
+Estate on his younger Son, cutting _Henault_ off with all his
+Birthright, which was 5000_l._ a Year. This News, you may believe, was
+not very pleasing to the young Man, who tho' in possession of the
+loveliest Virgin, and now Wife, that ever Man was bless'd with; yet when
+he reflected, he should have children by her, and these and she should
+come to want, (he having been magnificently Educated, and impatient of
+scanty Fortune) he laid it to Heart, and it gave him a thousand
+Uneasinesses in the midst of unspeakable Joys; and the more be strove to
+hide his Sentiments from _Isabella_, the more tormenting it was within;
+he durst not name it to her, so insuperable a Grief it would cause in
+her, to hear him complain; and tho' she could live hardly, as being bred
+to a devout and severe Life, he could not, but must let the Man of
+Quality shew it self; even in the disguise of an humbler Farmer: Besides
+all this, he found nothing of his Industry thrive, his Cattel still dy'd
+in the midst of those that were in full Vigour and Health of other
+Peoples; his Crops of Wheat and Barly, and other Grain, tho' manag'd by
+able and knowing Husbandmen, were all, either Mildew'd, or Blasted, or
+some Misfortune still arriv'd to him; his Coach-Horses would fight and
+kill one another, his Barns sometimes be fir'd; so that it became a
+Proverb all over the Country, if any ill Luck had arriv'd to any body,
+they would say, 'They had Monsieur _BEROONE'S_ Luck.' All these
+Reflections did but add to his Melancholy, and he grew at last to be in
+some want, insomuch, that _Isabella_, who had by her frequent Letters,
+and submissive Supplications, to her Aunt, (who lov'd her tenderly)
+obtain'd her Pardon, and her Blessing; she now press'd her for some
+Money, and besought her to consider, how great a Fortune she had brought
+to the _Monastery_, and implor'd, she would allow her some Sallary out
+of it, for she had been marry'd two Years, and most of what she had was
+exhausted. The Aunt, who found, that what was done, could not be undone,
+did, from time to time, supply her so, as one might have liv'd very
+decently on that very Revenue; but that would not satisfy the great
+Heart of _Henault_. He was now about three and twenty Years old, and
+_Isabella_ about eighteen, too young, and too lovely a Pair, to begin
+their Misfortunes so soon; they were both the most Just and Pious in the
+World; they were Examples of Goodness, and Eminent for Holy Living, and
+for perfect Loving, and yet nothing thriv'd they undertook; they had no
+Children, and all their Joy was in each other; at last, one good Fortune
+arriv'd to them, by the Solicitations of the Lady _Abbess_, and the
+_Bishop_, who was her near Kinsman, they got a Pardon for _Isabella's_
+quitting the _Monastery_, and marrying, so that she might now return
+to her own Country again. _Henault_ having also his Pardon, they
+immediately quit the place, where they had remain'd for two Years, and
+came again into _Flanders_, hoping, the change of place might afford 'em
+better Luck.
+
+_Henault_ then began again to solicit his Cruel Father, but nothing
+would do, he refus'd to see him, or to receive any Letters from him;
+but, at last, he prevail'd so far with him, as that he sent a Kinsman to
+him, to assure him, if he would leave his Wife, and go into the _French_
+Campagn, he would Equip him as well as his Quality requir'd, and that,
+according as he behav'd himself, he should gain his Favour; but if he
+liv'd Idly at home, giving up his Youth and Glory to lazy Love, he would
+have no more to say to him, but race him out of his Heart, and out of
+his Memory.
+
+He had setled himself in a very pretty House, furnished with what was
+fitting for the Reception of any Body of Quality that would live a
+private Life, and they found all the Respect that their Merits deserv'd
+from all the World, every body entirely loving and endeavouring to serve
+them; and _Isabella_ so perfectly had the Ascendent over her Aunt's
+Heart, that she procur'd from her all that she could desire, and much
+more than she could expect. She was perpetually progging and saving all
+that she could, to enrich and advance her, and, at last, pardoning and
+forgiving _Henault_, lov'd him as her own Child; so that all things
+look'd with a better Face than before, and never was so dear and fond a
+Couple seen, as _Henault_ and _Isabella_; but, at last, she prov'd with
+Child, and the Aunt, who might reasonably believe, so young a Couple
+would have a great many Children, and foreseeing there was no Provision
+likely to be made them, unless he pleas'd his Father, for if the Aunt
+should chance to dye, all their Hope was gone; she therefore daily
+solicited him to obey his Father, and go to the Camp; and that having
+atchiev'd Fame and Renown, he would return a Favourite to his Father,
+and Comfort to his Wife: After she had solicited in vain, for he was not
+able to endure the thought of leaving _Isabella_, melancholy as he was
+with his ill Fortune; the _Bishop_, kinsman to _Isabella_, took him to
+task, and urg'd his Youth and Birth, and that he ought not to wast both
+without Action, when all the World was employ'd; and, that since his
+Father had so great a desire he should go into a Campagn, either to
+serve the _Venetian_ against the _Turks_, or into the _French_ Service,
+which he lik'd best; he besought him to think of it; and since he had
+satisfy'd his Love, he should and ought to satisfy his Duty, it being
+absolutely necessary for the wiping off the Stain of his Sacrilege, and
+to gain him the favour of Heaven, which, he found, had hitherto been
+averse to all he had undertaken: In fine, all his Friends, and all who
+lov'd him, joyn'd in this Design, and all thought it convenient, nor was
+he insensible of the Advantage it might bring him; but Love, which every
+day grew fonder and fonder in his Heart, oppos'd all their Reasonings,
+tho' he saw all the Brave Youth of the Age preparing to go, either to
+one Army, or the other.
+
+At last, he lets _Isabella_ know, what Propositions he had made him,
+both by his Father, and his Relations; at the very first Motion, she
+almost fainted in his Arms, while he was speaking, and it possess'd her
+with so intire a Grief, that she miscarry'd, to the insupportable
+Torment of her tender Husband and Lover, so that, to re-establish her
+Repose, he was forc'd to promise not to go; however, she consider'd all
+their Circumstances, and weigh'd the Advantages that might redound both
+to his Honour and Fortune, by it; and, in a matter of a Month's time,
+with the Persuasions and Reasons of her Friends, she suffer'd him to
+resolve upon going, her self determining to retire to the _Monastery_,
+till the time of his Return; but when she nam'd the _Monastery_, he grew
+pale and disorder'd, and obliged her to promise him, not to enter into
+it any more, for fear they should never suffer her to come forth again;
+so that he resolv'd not to depart, till she had made a Vow to him, never
+to go again within the Walls of a Religious House, which had already
+been so fatal to them. She promis'd, and he believ'd.
+
+_Henault_, at last, overcame his Heart, which pleaded so for his Stay,
+and sent his Father word, he was ready to obey him, and to carry the
+first Efforts of his Arms against the common Foes of Christendom, the
+_Turks_; his Father was very well pleas'd at this, and sent him Two
+thousand Crowns, his Horses and Furniture sutable to his Quality, and a
+Man to wait on him; so that it was not long e're he got himself in order
+to be gone, after a dismal parting.
+
+He made what hast he could to the _French_ Army, then under the Command
+of the Monsignior, the Duke of _Beaufort_, then at _Candia_, and put
+himself a Voluntier under his Conduct; in which Station was _Villenoys_,
+who, you have already heard, was so passionate a Lover of _Isabella_,
+who no sooner heard of _Henault's_ being arriv'd, and that he was
+Husband to _Isabella_, but he was impatient to learn, by what strange
+Adventure he came to gain her, even from her Vow'd Retreat, when he,
+with all his Courtship, could not be so happy, tho' she was then free in
+the World, and Unvow'd to Heaven.
+
+As soon as he sent his Name to _Henault_, he was sent for up, for
+_Henault_ had heard of _Villenoys_, and that he had been a Lover of
+_Isabella_; they receiv'd one another with all the endearing Civility
+imaginable for the aforesaid Reason, and for that he was his
+Country-man, tho' unknown to him, _Villenoys_ being gone to the Army,
+just as _Henault_ came from the _Jesuits_ College. A great deal of
+Endearment pass'd between them, and they became, from that moment, like
+two sworn Brothers, and he receiv'd the whole Relation from _Henault_,
+of his Amour.
+
+It was not long before the Siege began anew, for he arriv'd at the
+beginning of the Spring, and, as soon as he came, almost, they fell to
+Action; and it happen'd upon a day, that a Party of some Four hundred
+Men resolv'd to sally out upon the Enemy, as, when ever they could, they
+did; but as it is not my business to relate the History of the War,
+being wholly unacquainted with the Terms of Battels, I shall only say,
+That these Men were led by _Villenoys_, and that _Henault_ would
+accompany him in this Sally, and that they acted very Noble, and great
+Things, worthy of a Memory in the History of that Siege; but this day,
+particularly, they had an occasion to shew their Valour, which they did
+very much to their Glory; but, venturing too far, they were ambush'd, in
+the persuit of the Party of the Enemies, and being surrounded,
+_Villenoys_ had the unhappiness to see his gallant Friend fall, fighting
+and dealing of Wounds around him, even as he descended to the Earth, for
+he fell from his Horse at the same moment that he kill'd a _Turk_; and
+_Villenoys_ could neither assist him, nor had he the satisfaction to be
+able to rescue his dead Body from under the Horses, but, with much ado,
+escaping with his own Life, got away, in spite of all that follow'd him,
+and recover'd the Town, before they could overtake him: He passionately
+bewail'd the Loss of this brave young Man, and offer'd any Recompence to
+those, that would have ventur'd to have search'd for his dead Body among
+the Slain; but it was not fit to hazard the Living, for unnecessary
+Services to the Dead; and tho' he had a great mind to have Interr'd him,
+he rested content with what he wish'd to pay his Friends Memory, tho' he
+could not: So that all the Service now he could do him, was, to write to
+_Isabella_, to whom he had not writ, tho' commanded by her so to do, in
+three Years before, which was never since she took Orders. He gave her
+an Account of the Death of her Husband, and how Gloriously he fell
+fighting for the Holy Cross, and how much Honour he had won, if it had
+been his Fate to have outliv'd that great, but unfortunate, Day, where,
+with 400 Men, they had kill'd 1500 of the Enemy. The General _Beaufort_
+himself had so great a Respect and Esteem for this young Man, and
+knowing him to be of Quality, that he did him the honour to bemoan him,
+and to send a Condoling Letter to _Isabella_, how much worth her Esteem
+he dy'd, and that he had Eterniz'd his Memory with the last Gasp of his
+Life.
+
+When this News arriv'd, it may be easily imagin'd, what Impressions, or
+rather Ruins, it made in the Heart of this fair Mourner; the Letters
+came by his Man, who saw him fall in Battel, and came off with those few
+that escap'd with _Villenoys_; he brought back what Money he had, a few
+Jewels, with _Isabella's_ Picture that he carry'd with him and had left
+in his Chamber in the Fort at _Candia_, for fear of breaking it in
+Action. And now _Isabella's_ Sorrow grew to the Extremity, she thought,
+she could not suffer more than she did by his Absence, but she now found
+a Grief more killing; she hung her Chamber with Black, and liv'd without
+the Light of Day: Only Wax Lights, that let her behold the Picture of
+this Charming Man, before which she sacrific'd Floods of Tears. He had
+now been absent about ten Months, and she had learnt just to live
+without him, but Hope preserv'd her then; but now she had nothing, for
+which to wish to live. She, for about two Months after the News arriv'd,
+liv'd without seeing any Creature but a young Maid, that was her Woman;
+but extream Importunity oblig'd her to give way to the Visits of her
+Friends, who endeavour'd to restore her Melancholy Soul to its wonted
+Easiness; for, however it was oppress'd within, by _Henault's_ Absence,
+she bore it off with a modest Chearfulness; but now she found, that
+Fortitude and Virtue fail'd her, when she was assur'd, he was no more:
+She continu'd thus Mourning, and thus inclos'd, the space of a whole
+Year, never suffering the Visit of any Man, but of a near Relation; so
+that she acquir'd a Reputation, such as never any young Beauty had, for
+she was now but Nineteen, and her Face and Shape more excellent than
+ever; she daily increas'd in Beauty, which, joyn'd to her Exemplary
+Piety, Charity, and all other excellent Qualities, gain'd her a
+wonderous Fame, and begat an Awe and Reverence in all that heard of her,
+and there was no Man of any Quality, that did not Adore her. After her
+Year was up, she went to the Churches, but would never be seen any where
+else abroad, but that was enough to procure her a thousand Lovers; and
+some, who had the boldness to send her Letters, which, if she receiv'd,
+she gave no Answer to, and many she sent back unread and unseal'd: So
+that she would encourage none, tho' their Quality was far beyond what
+she could hope; but she was resolv'd to marry no more, however her
+Fortune might require it.
+
+It happen'd, that, about this time, _Candia_ being unfortunately taken
+by the _Turks_, all the brave Men that escap'd the Sword, return'd,
+among them, _Villenoys_, who no sooner arriv'd, but he sent to let
+_Isabella_ know of it, and to beg the Honour of waiting on her; desirous
+to learn what Fate befel her dear Lord, she suffer'd him to visit her,
+where he found her, in her Mourning, a thousand times more Fair,
+(at least, he fancy'd so) than ever she appear'd to be; so that if he
+lov'd her before, he now ador'd her; if he burnt then, he rages now; but
+the awful Sadness, and soft Languishment of her Eyes, hinder'd him from
+the presumption of speaking of his Passion to her, tho' it would have
+been no new thing; and his first Visit was spent in the Relation of
+every Circumstance of _Henault's_ Death; and, at his going away, he
+begg'd leave to visit her sometimes, and she gave him permission: He
+lost no time, but made use of the Liberty she had given him; and when
+his Sister, who was a great Companion of _Isabella's_, went to see her,
+he would still wait on her; so that, either with his own Visits, and
+those of his Sister's, he saw _Isabella_ every day, and had the good
+luck to see, he diverted her, by giving her Relations of Transactions of
+the Siege, and the Customs and Manners of the _Turks_: All he said, was
+with so good a Grace, that he render'd every thing agreeable; he was,
+besides, very Beautiful, well made, of Quality and Fortune, and fit to
+inspire Love.
+
+He made his Visits so often, and so long, that, at last, he took the
+Courage to speak of his Passion, which, at first, _Isabella_ would by no
+means hear of, but, by degrees, she yielded more and more to listen to
+his tender Discourse; and he liv'd thus with her two Years, before he
+could gain any more upon her Heart, than to suffer him to speak of Love
+to her; but that, which subdu'd her quite was, That her Aunt, the Lady
+_Abbess_, dy'd, and with her, all the Hopes and Fortune of _Isabella_,
+so that she was left with only a Charming Face and Meen, a Virtue, and a
+Discretion above her Sex, to make her Fortune within the World; into a
+Religious House, she was resolv'd not to go, because her Heart deceiv'd
+her once, and she durst not trust it again, whatever it promis'd.
+
+The death of this Lady made her look more favourably on _Villenoys_; but
+yet, she was resolv'd to try his Love to the utmost, and keep him off,
+as long as 'twas possible she could subsist, and 'twas for Interest she
+married again, tho' she lik'd the Person very well; and since she was
+forc'd to submit her self to be a second time a Wife, she thought, she
+could live better with _Villenoys_, than any other, since for him she
+ever had a great Esteem; and fancy'd the Hand of Heaven had pointed out
+her Destiny, which she could not avoid, without a Crime.
+
+So that when she was again importun'd by her impatient Lover, she told
+him, She had made a Vow to remain three Years, at least, before she
+would marry again, after the Death of the best of Men and Husbands, and
+him who had the Fruits of her early Heart; and, notwithstanding all the
+Solicitations of _Villenoys_, she would not consent to marry him, till
+her Vow of Widowhood was expir'd.
+
+He took her promise, which he urg'd her to give him, and to shew the
+height of his Passion in his obedience; he condescends to stay her
+appointed time, tho' he saw her every day, and all his Friends and
+Relations made her Visits upon this new account, and there was nothing
+talk'd on, but this design'd Wedding, which, when the time was expir'd,
+was perform'd accordingly with great Pomp and Magnificence, for
+_Villenoys_ had no Parents to hinder his Design; or if he had, the
+Reputation and Virtue of this Lady would have subdu'd them.
+
+The Marriage was celebrated in this House, where she liv'd ever since
+her Return from _Germany_, from the time she got her Pardon; and when
+_Villenoys_ was preparing all things in a more magnificent Order at his
+Villa, some ten Miles from the City, she was very melancholy, and would
+often say, She had been us'd to such profound Retreat, and to live
+without the fatigue of Noise and Equipage, that, she fear'd, she should
+never endure that Grandeur, which was proper for his Quality; and tho'
+the House, in the Country, was the most beautifully Situated in all
+_Flanders_, she was afraid of a numerous Train, and kept him, for the
+most part, in this pretty City Mansion, which he Adorn'd and Enlarg'd,
+as much as she would give him leave; so that there wanted nothing, to
+make this House fit to receive the People of the greatest Quality,
+little as it was: But all the Servants and Footmen, all but one _Valet_,
+and the Maid, were lodg'd abroad, for _Isabella_, not much us'd to the
+sight of Men about her, suffer'd them as seldom as possible, to come in
+her Presence, so that she liv'd more like a _Nun_ still, than a Lady of
+the World; and very rarely any Maids came about her, but _Maria_, who
+had always permission to come, when ever she pleas'd, unless forbidden.
+
+As _Villenoys_ had the most tender and violent Passion for his Wife, in
+the World, he suffer'd her to be pleas'd at any rate, and to live in
+what Method she best lik'd, and was infinitely satisfy'd with the
+Austerity and manner of her Conduct, since in his Arms, and alone, with
+him, she wanted nothing that could Charm; so that she was esteemed the
+fairest and best of Wives, and he the most happy of all Mankind. When
+she would go abroad, she had her Coaches Rich and Gay, and her Livery
+ready to attend her in all the Splendour imaginable; and he was always
+buying one rich Jewel, or Necklace, or some great Rarity or other, that
+might please her; so that there was nothing her Soul could desire, which
+it had not, except the Assurance of Eternal Happiness, which she
+labour'd incessantly to gain. She had no Discontent, but because she was
+not bless'd with a Child; but she submits to the pleasure of Heaven, and
+endeavour'd, by her good Works, and her Charity, to make the Poor her
+Children, and was ever doing Acts of Virtue, to make the Proverb good,
+_That more are the Children of the Barren, than the Fruitful Woman_. She
+liv'd in this Tranquility, belov'd by all, for the space of five Years,
+and Time (and perpetual Obligations from _Villenoys_, who was the most
+indulgent and indearing Man in the World) had almost worn out of her
+Heart the Thought of _Henault_, or if she remember'd him, it was in her
+Prayers, or sometimes with a short sigh, and no more, tho' it was a
+great while, before she could subdue her Heart to that Calmness; but she
+was prudent, and wisely bent all her Endeavours to please, oblige, and
+caress, the deserving Living, and to strive all she could, to forget the
+unhappy Dead, since it could not but redound to the disturbance of her
+Repose, to think of him; so that she had now transferr'd all that
+Tenderness she had for him, to _Villenoys_.
+
+_Villenoys_, of all Diversions, lov'd Hunting, and kept, at his Country
+House, a very famous Pack of Dogs, which he us'd to lend, sometimes, to
+a young Lord, who was his dear Friend, and his Neighbour in the Country,
+who would often take them, and be out two or three days together, where
+he heard of Game, and oftentimes _Villenoys_ and he would be a whole
+Week at a time exercising in this Sport, for there was no Game near at
+hand. This young Lord had sent him a Letter, to invite him fifteen Miles
+farther than his own _Villa_, to hunt, and appointed to meet him at his
+Country House, in order to go in search of this promis'd Game; So that
+_Villenoys_ got about a Week's Provision, of what Necessaries he thought
+he should want in that time; and taking only his _Valet_, who lov'd the
+Sport, he left _Isabella_ for a Week to her Devotion, and her other
+innocent Diversions of fine Work, at which she was Excellent, and left
+the Town to go meet this young Challenger.
+
+When _Villenoys_ was at any time out, it was the custom of _Isabella_ to
+retire to her Chamber, and to receive no Visits, not even the Ladies, so
+absolutely she devoted her self to her Husband: All the first day she
+pass'd over in this manner, and Evening being come, she order'd her
+Supper to be brought to her Chamber, and, because it was Washing-day the
+next day, she order'd all her Maids to go very early to Bed, that they
+might be up betimes, and to leave only _Maria_ to attend her; which was
+accordingly done. This _Maria_ was a young Maid, that was very discreet,
+and, of all things in the World, lov'd her Lady, whom she had liv'd
+with, ever since she came from the _Monastery_.
+
+When all were in Bed, and the little light Supper just carry'd up to the
+Lady, and only, as I said, _Maria_ attending, some body knock'd at the
+Gate, it being about Nine of the Clock at Night; so _Maria_ snatching up
+a Candle, went to the Gate, to see who it might be; when she open'd the
+Door, she found a Man in a very odd Habit, and a worse Countenance, and
+asking, Who he would speak with? He told her, Her Lady: My Lady (reply'd
+_Maria_) does not use to receive Visits at this hour; Pray, what is your
+Business? He reply'd, That which I will deliver only to your Lady, and
+that she may give me Admittance, pray, deliver her this Ring: And
+pulling off a small Ring, with _Isabella's_ Name and Hair in it, he gave
+it _Maria_, who, shutting the Gate upon him, went in with the Ring; as
+soon as _Isabella_ saw it, she was ready to swound on the Chair where
+she sate, and cry'd, Where had you this? _Maria_ reply'd, An old rusty
+Fellow at the Gate gave it me, and desired, it might be his Pasport to
+you; I ask'd his Name, but he said, You knew him not, but he had great
+News to tell you. _Isabella_ reply'd, (almost swounding again) Oh,
+_Maria!_ I am ruin'd. The Maid, all this while, knew not what she meant,
+nor, that that was a Ring given to _Henault_ by her Mistress, but
+endeavouring to recover her, only ask'd her, What she should say to the
+old Messenger? _Isabella_ bid her bring him up to her, (she had scarce
+Life to utter these last words) and before she was well recover'd,
+_Maria_ enter'd with the Man; and _Isabella_ making a Sign to her, to
+depart the Room, she was left alone with him.
+
+_Henault_ (for it was he) stood trembling and speechless before her,
+giving her leisure to take a strict Survey of him; at first finding no
+Feature nor Part of _Henault_ about him, her Fears began to lessen, and
+she hop'd, it was not he, as her first Apprehensions had suggested; when
+he (with the Tears of Joy standing in his Eyes, and not daring suddenly
+to approach her, for fear of encreasing that Disorder he saw in her pale
+Face) began to speak to her, and cry'd, Fair Creature! is there no
+Remains of your _Henault_ left in this Face of mine, all o'regrown with
+Hair? Nothing in these Eyes, sunk with eight Years Absence from you, and
+Sorrows? Nothing in this Shape, bow'd with Labour and Griefs, that can
+inform you? I was once that happy Man you lov'd! At these words, Tears
+stop'd his Speech, and _Isabella_ kept them Company, for yet she wanted
+Words. Shame and Confusion fill'd her Soul, and she was not able to lift
+her Eyes up, to consider the Face of him, whose Voice she knew so
+perfectly well. In one moment, she run over a thousand Thoughts. She
+finds, by his Return, she is not only expos'd to all the Shame
+imaginable; to all the Upbraiding, on his part, when he shall know she
+is marry'd to another; but all the Fury and Rage of _Villenoys_, and the
+Scorn of the Town, who will look on her as an Adulteress: She sees
+_Henault_ poor, and knew, she must fall from all the Glory and
+Tranquility she had for five happy Years triumph'd in; in which time,
+she had known no Sorrow, or Care, tho' she had endur'd a thousand with
+_Henault_. She dyes, to think, however, that he should know, she had
+been so lightly in Love with him, to marry again; and she dyes, to
+think, that _Villenoys_ must see her again in the Arms of _Henault_;
+besides, she could not recal her Love, for Love, like Reputation, once
+fled, never returns more. 'Tis impossible to love, and cease to love,
+(and love another) and yet return again to the first Passion, tho' the
+Person have all the Charms, or a thousand times more than it had, when
+it first conquer'd. This Mistery in Love, it may be, is not generally
+known, but nothing is more certain. One may a while suffer the Flame to
+languish, but there may be a reviving Spark in the Ashes, rak'd up, that
+may burn anew; but when 'tis quite extinguish'd, it never returns or
+rekindles.
+
+'Twas so with the Heart of _Isabella_; had she believ'd, _Henault_ had
+been living, she had lov'd to the last moment of their Lives; but, alas!
+the Dead are soon forgotten, and she now lov'd only _Villenoys_.
+
+After they had both thus silently wept, with very different sentiments,
+she thought 'twas time to speak; and dissembling as well as she could,
+she caress'd him in her Arms, and told him, She could not express her
+Surprize and Joy for his Arrival. If she did not Embrace him heartily,
+or speak so Passionately as she us'd to do, he fancy'd it her Confusion,
+and his being in a condition not so fit to receive Embraces from her;
+and evaded them as much as 'twas possible for him to do, in respect to
+her, till he had dress'd his Face, and put himself in order; but the
+Supper being just brought up, when he knock'd, she order'd him to sit
+down and Eat, and he desir'd her not to let _Maria_ know who he was, to
+see how long it would be, before she knew him or would call him to mind.
+But _Isabella_ commanded _Maria_, to make up a Bed in such a Chamber,
+without disturbing her Fellows, and dismiss'd her from waiting at Table.
+The Maid admir'd, what strange, good, and joyful News, this Man had
+brought her Mistress, that he was so Treated, and alone with her, which
+never any Man had yet been; but she never imagin'd the Truth, and knew
+her Lady's Prudence too well, to question her Conduct. While they were
+at Supper, _Isabella_ oblig'd him to tell her, How he came to be
+reported Dead; of which, she receiv'd Letters, both from Monsieur
+_Villenoys_, and the Duke of _Beaufort_, and by his Man the News, who
+saw him Dead? He told her, That, after the Fight, of which, first, he
+gave her an account, he being left among the Dead, when the Enemy came
+to Plunder and strip 'em, they found, he had Life in him, and appearing
+as an Eminent Person, they thought it better Booty to save me,
+(continu'd he) and get my Ransom, than to strip me, and bury me among
+the Dead; so they bore me off to a Tent, and recover'd me to Life; and,
+after that, I was recover'd of my Wounds, and sold, by the Soldier that
+had taken me, to a Spahee, who kept me a Slave, setting a great Ransom
+on me, such as I was not able to pay. I writ several times, to give you,
+and my Father, an account of my Misery, but receiv'd no Answer, and
+endur'd seven Years of Dreadful Slavery: When I found, at last, an
+opportunity to make my Escape, and from that time, resolv'd, never to
+cut the Hair of this Beard, till I should either see my dearest
+_Isabella_ again, or hear some News of her. All that I fear'd, was, That
+she was Dead; and, at that word, he fetch'd a deep Sigh; and viewing all
+things so infinitely more Magnificent than he had left 'em, or,
+believ'd, she could afford; and, that she was far more Beautiful in
+Person, and Rich in Dress, than when he left her: He had a thousand
+Torments of Jealousie that seiz'd him, of which, he durst not make any
+mention, but rather chose to wait a little, and see, whether she had
+lost her Virtue: He desir'd, he might send for a Barber, to put his Face
+in some handsomer Order, and more fit for the Happiness 'twas that Night
+to receive; but she told him, No Dress, no Disguise, could render him
+more Dear and Acceptable to her, and that to morrow was time enough, and
+that his Travels had render'd him more fit for Repose, than Dressing. So
+that after a little while, they had talk'd over all they had a mind to
+say, all that was very indearing on his side, and as much Concern as she
+could force, on hers; she conducted him to his Chamber, which was very
+rich, and which gave him a very great addition of Jealousie: However, he
+suffer'd her to help him to Bed, which she seem'd to do, with all the
+tenderness in the World; and when she had seen him laid, she said, She
+would go to her Prayers, and come to him as soon as she had done, which
+being before her usual Custom, it was not a wonder to him she stay'd
+long, and he, being extreamly tir'd with his Journy, fell asleep. 'Tis
+true, _Isabella_ essay'd to Pray, but alas! it was in vain, she was
+distracted with a thousand Thoughts what to do, which the more she
+thought, the more it distracted her; she was a thousand times about to
+end her Life, and, at one stroke, rid her self of the Infamy, that, she
+saw, must inevitably fall upon her; but Nature was frail, and the
+Tempter strong: And after a thousand Convulsions, even worse than Death
+it self, she resolv'd upon the Murder of _Henault_, as the only means of
+removing all the obstacles to her future Happiness; she resolv'd on
+this, but after she had done so, she was seiz'd with so great Horror,
+that she imagin'd, if she perform'd it, she should run Mad; and yet, if
+she did not, she should be also Frantick, with the Shames and Miseries
+that would befal her; and believing the Murder the least Evil, since she
+could never live with him, she fix'd her Heart on that; and causing her
+self to be put immediately to Bed, in her own Bed, she made _Maria_ go
+to hers, and when all was still, she softly rose, and taking a Candle
+with her, only in her Night-Gown and Slippers, she goes to the Bed of
+the Unfortunate _Henault_, with a Penknife in her hand; but considering,
+she knew not how to conceal the Blood, should she cut his Throat, she
+resolves to Strangle him, or Smother him with a Pillow; that last
+thought was no sooner borne, but put in Execution; and, as he soundly
+slept, she smother'd him without any Noise, or so much as his Strugling:
+But when she had done this dreadful Deed, and saw the dead Corps of her
+once-lov'd Lord, lye Smiling (as it were) upon her, she fell into a
+Swound with the Horror of the Deed, and it had been well for her she had
+there dy'd; but she reviv'd again, and awaken'd to more and new Horrors,
+she flyes all frighted from the Chamber, and fancies, the Phantom of her
+dead Lord persues her; she runs from Room to Room, and starts and
+stares, as if she saw him continually before her. Now all that was ever
+Soft and Dear to her, with him, comes into her Heart, and, she finds, he
+conquers anew, being Dead, who could not gain her Pity, while Living.
+
+While she was thus flying from her Guilt, in vain, she hears one knock
+with Authority at the Door: She is now more affrighted, if possible, and
+knows not whither to fly for Refuge; she fancies, they are already the
+Officers of Justice, and that Ten thousand Tortures and Wrecks are
+fastening on her, to make her confess the horrid Murder; the knocking
+increases, and so loud, that the Laundry Maids believing it to be the
+Woman that us'd to call them up, and help them to Wash, rose, and,
+opening the Door, let in _Villenoys_; who having been at his Country
+_Villa_, and finding there a Footman, instead of his Friend, who waited
+to tell him, His Master was fallen sick of the Small Pox, and could not
+wait on him, he took Horse, and came back to his lovely _Isabella_; but
+running up, as he us'd to do, to her Chamber, he found her not, and
+seeing a Light in another Room, he went in, but found _Isabella_ flying
+from him, out at another Door, with all the speed she could, he admires
+at this Action, and the more, because his Maid told him Her Lady had
+been a Bed a good while; he grows a little Jealous, and persues her, but
+still she flies; at last he caught her in his Arms, where she fell into
+a swound, but quickly recovering, he set her down in a Chair, and,
+kneeling before her, implor'd to know what she ayl'd, and why she fled
+from him, who ador'd her? She only fix'd a ghastly Look upon him, and
+said, She was not well: 'Oh! (said he) put not me off with such poor
+Excuses, _Isabella_ never fled from me, when Ill, but came to my Arms,
+and to my Bosom, to find a Cure; therefore, tell me, what's the matter?'
+At that, she fell a weeping in a most violent manner, and cry'd, She was
+for ever undone: He, being mov'd with Love and Compassion, conjur'd her
+to tell what she ayl'd: 'Ah! (said she) thou and I, and all of us, are
+undone!' At this, he lost all Patience and rav'd, and cry'd, Tell me,
+and tell me immediately, what's the matter? When she saw his Face pale,
+and his Eyes fierce, she fell on her knees, and cry'd, 'Oh! you can
+never Pardon me, if I should tell you, and yet, alas! I am innocent of
+Ill, by all that's good, I am.' But her Conscience accusing her at that
+word, she was silent. If thou art Innocent, said _Villenoys_, taking her
+up in his Arms, and kissing her wet Face, 'By all that's Good, I Pardon
+thee, what ever thou hast done.' 'Alas! (said she) Oh! but I dare not
+name it, 'till you swear.' 'By all that's Sacred, (reply'd he) and by
+whatever Oath you can oblige me to; by my inviolable Love to thee, and
+by thy own dear Self, I swear, whate're it be, I do forgive thee;
+I know, thou art too good to commit a Sin I may not with Honour,
+pardon.'
+
+With this, and hearten'd by his Caresses, she told him, That _Henault_
+was return'd; and repeating to him his Escape, she said, She had put him
+to Bed, and when he expected her to come, she fell on her Knees at the
+Bedside, and confess'd, She was married to _Villenoys_; at that word
+(said she) he fetch'd a deep Sigh or two, and presently after, with a
+very little struggling, dy'd; and, yonder, he lyes still in the Bed.
+After this, she wept so abundantly, that all _Villenoys_ could do, could
+hardly calm her Spirits; but after, consulting what they should do in
+this Affair, _Villenoys_ ask'd her, Who of the House saw him? She said,
+Only _Maria_, who knew not who he was; so that, resolving to save
+_Isabella's_ Honour, which was the only Misfortune to come, _Villenoys_
+himself propos'd the carrying him out to the Bridge, and throwing him
+into the River, where the Stream would carry him down to the Sea, and
+lose him; or, if he were found, none could know him. So _Villenoys_ took
+a Candle, and went and look'd on him, and found him altogether chang'd,
+that no Body would know who he was; he therefore put on his Clothes,
+which was not hard for him to do, for he was scarce yet cold, and
+comforting again _Isabella_, as well as he could, he went himself into
+the Stable, and fetched a Sack, such as they us'd for Oats, a new Sack,
+whereon stuck a great Needle, with a Pack-thread in it; this Sack he
+brings into the House, and shews to _Isabella_, telling her, He would
+put the Body in there, for the better convenience of carrying it on his
+Back. _Isabella_ all this while said but little, but, fill'd with
+Thoughts all Black and Hellish, she ponder'd within, while the Fond and
+Passionate _Villenoys_ was endeavouring to hide her Shame, and to make
+this an absolute Secret: She imagin'd, that could she live after a Deed
+so black, _Villenoys_ would be eternal reproaching her, if not with his
+Tongue, at least with his Heart, and embolden'd by one Wickedness, she
+was the readier for another, and another of such a Nature, as has, in my
+Opinion, far less Excuse, than the first; but when Fate begins to
+afflict, she goes through stitch with her Black Work.
+
+When _Villenoys_, who would, for the Safety of _Isabella's_ Honour, be
+the sole Actor in the disposing of this Body; and since he was Young,
+Vigorous, and Strong, and able to bear it, would trust no one with the
+Secret, he having put up the Body, and ty'd it fast, set it on a Chair,
+turning his Back towards it, with the more conveniency to take it upon
+his Back, bidding _Isabella_ give him the two Corners of the Sack in his
+Hands; telling her, They must do this last office for the Dead, more, in
+order to the securing their Honour and Tranquility hereafter, than for
+any other Reason, and bid her be of good Courage, till he came back, for
+it was not far to the Bridge, and it being the dead of the Night, he
+should pass well enough. When he had the Sack on his Back, and ready to
+go with it, she cry'd, Stay, my Dear, some of his Clothes hang out,
+which I will put in; and with that, taking the Pack-needle with the
+Thread, sew'd the Sack, with several strong Stitches, to the Collar of
+_Villenoy's_ Coat, without his perceiving it, and bid him go now; and
+when you come to the Bridge, (said she) and that you are throwing him
+over the Rail, (which is not above Breast high) be sure you give him a
+good swing, least the Sack should hang on any thing at the side of the
+Bridge, and not fall into the Stream; I'le warrant you, (said
+_Villenoys_) I know how to secure his falling. And going his way with
+it, Love lent him Strength, and he soon arriv'd at the Bridge; where,
+turning his Back to the Rail, and heaving the Body over, he threw
+himself with all his force backward, the better to swing the Body into
+the River, whose weight (it being made fast to his Collar) pull'd
+_Villenoys_ after it, and both the live and the dead Man falling into
+the River, which, being rapid at the Bridge, soon drown'd him,
+especially when so great a weight hung to his Neck; so that he dy'd,
+without considering what was the occasion of his Fate.
+
+_Isabella_ remain'd the most part of the Night sitting in her Chamber,
+without going to Bed, to see what would become of her Damnable Design;
+but when it was towards Morning, and she heard no News, she put herself
+into Bed, but not to find Repose or Rest there, for that she thought
+impossible, after so great a Barbarity as she had committed; No, (said
+she) it is but just I should for ever wake, who have, in one fatal
+Night, destroy'd two such Innocents. Oh! what Fate, what Destiny, is
+mine? Under what cursed Planet was I born, that Heaven it self could not
+divert my Ruine? It was not many Hours since I thought my self the most
+happy and blest of Women, and now am fallen to the Misery of one of the
+worst Fiends of Hell.
+
+Such were her Thoughts, and such her Cryes, till the Light brought on
+new Matter for Grief; for, about Ten of the Clock, News was brought,
+that Two Men were found dead in the River, and that they were carry'd to
+the Town-Hall, to lye there, till they were own'd: Within an hour after,
+News was brought in, that one of these Unhappy Men was _Villenoys_; his
+_Valet_, who, all this while, imagin'd him in Bed with his Lady, ran to
+the Hall, to undeceive the People, for he knew, if his Lord were gone
+out, he should have been call'd to Dress him; but finding it, as 'twas
+reported, he fell a weeping, and wringing his Hands, in a most miserable
+manner, he ran home with the News; where, knocking at his Lady's Chamber
+Door, and finding it fast lock'd, he almost hop'd again, he was
+deceiv'd; but _Isabella_ rising, and opening the Door, _Maria_ first
+enter'd weeping, with the News, and then brought the _Valet_, to testify
+the fatal Truth of it. _Isabella_, tho' it were nothing but what she
+expected to hear, almost swounded in her Chair; nor did she feign it,
+but felt really all the Pangs of Killing Grief; and was so alter'd with
+her Night's Watching and Grieving, that this new Sorrow look'd very
+Natural in her. When she was recover'd, she asked a thousand Questions
+about him, and question'd the Possibility of it; for (said she) he went
+out this Morning early from me, and had no signs, in his Face, of any
+Grief or Discontent. Alas! (said the _Valet_) Madam, he is not his own
+Murderer, some one has done it in Revenge; and then told her, how he was
+found fasten'd to a Sack, with a dead strange Man ty'd up within it; and
+every body concludes, that they were both first murder'd, and then drawn
+to the River, and thrown both in. At the Relation of this Strange Man,
+she seem'd more amaz'd than before, and commanding the _Valet_ to go to
+the Hall, and to take Order about the Coroner's sitting on the Body of
+_Villenoys_, and then to have it brought home: She called _Maria_ to
+her, and, after bidding her shut the Door, she cry'd, Ah, _Maria_! I
+will tell thee what my Heart imagins; but first, (said she) run to the
+Chamber of the Stranger, and see, if he be still in Bed, which I fear he
+is not; she did so, and brought word, he was gone; then (said she) my
+Forebodings are true. When I was in Bed last night, with _Villenoys_
+(and at that word, she sigh'd as if her Heart-Strings had broken) I told
+him, I had lodg'd a Stranger in my House, who was by, when my first Lord
+and Husband fell in Battel; and that, after the Fight, finding him yet
+alive, he spoke to him, and gave him that Ring you brought me last
+Night; and conjur'd him, if ever his Fortune should bring him to
+_Flanders_, to see me, and give me that Ring, and tell me--(with that,
+she wept, and could scarce speak) a thousand tender and endearing
+things, and then dy'd in his Arms. For my dear _Henault's_ sake (said
+she) I us'd him nobly, and dismiss'd you that Night, because I was
+asham'd to have any Witness of the Griefs I paid his Memory: All this I
+told to _Villenoys_ whom I found disorder'd; and, after a sleepless
+Night, I fancy he got up, and took this poor Man, and has occasion'd his
+Death: At that, she wept anew, and _Maria_, to whom, all that her
+Mistress said, was Gospel, verily believ'd it so, without examining
+Reason; and _Isabella_ conjuring her, since none of the House knew of
+the old Man's being there, (for Old he appear'd to be) that she would
+let it for ever be a Secret, and, to this she bound her by an Oath; so
+that none knowing _Henault_, altho' his Body was expos'd there for three
+Days to Publick View: When the Coroner had Set on the Bodies, he found,
+they had been first Murder'd some way or other, and then afterwards
+tack'd together, and thrown into the River, they brought the Body of
+_Villenoys_ home to his House, where, it being laid on a Table, all the
+House infinitely bewail'd it; and _Isabella_ did nothing but swound
+away, almost as fast as she recover'd Life; however, she would, to
+compleat her Misery, be led to see this dreadful Victim of her Cruelty,
+and, coming near the Table, the Body, whose Eyes were before close shut,
+now open'd themselves wide, and fix'd them upon _Isabella_, who, giving
+a great Schreek, fell down in a swound, and the Eyes clos'd again; they
+had much ado to bring her to Life, but, at last, they did so, and led
+her back to her Bed, where she remain'd a good while. Different Opinions
+and Discourses were made, concerning the opening of the Eyes of the Dead
+Man, and viewing _Isabella_; but she was a Woman of so admirable a Life
+and Conversation, of so undoubted a Piety and Sanctity of Living, that
+not the least Conjecture could be made, of her having a hand in it,
+besides the improbability of it; yet the whole thing was a Mystery,
+which, they thought, they ought to look into: But a few Days after, the
+Body of _Villenoys_ being interr'd in a most magnificent manner, and, by
+Will all he had, was long since setled on _Isabella_, the World, instead
+of Suspecting her, Ador'd her the more, and every Body of Quality was
+already hoping to be next, tho' the fair Mourner still kept her Bed, and
+Languish'd daily.
+
+It happen'd, not long after this, there came to the Town a _French_
+Gentleman, who was taken at the Siege of _Candia_, and was Fellow-Slave
+with _Henault_, for seven Years, in _Turky_, and who had escap'd with
+_Henault_, and came as far as _Liege_ with him, where, having some
+Business and Acquaintance with a Merchant, he stay'd some time; but when
+he parted with _Henault_, he ask'd him, Where he should find him in
+_Flanders_? _Henault_ gave him a Note, with his Name, and Place of
+Abode, if his Wife were alive; if not, to enquire at his Sister's, or
+his Father's. This _French_ Man came at last, to the very House of
+_Isabella_, enquiring for this Man, and receiv'd a strange Answer, and
+was laugh'd at; He found, that was the House, and that the Lady; and
+enquiring about the Town, and speaking of _Henault's_ Return, describing
+the Man, it was quickly discover'd, to be the same that was in the Sack:
+He had his Friend taken up (for he was buried) and found him the same,
+and, causing a _Barber_ to Trim him, when his bushy Beard was off,
+a great many People remember'd him; and the _French_ Man affirming, he
+went to his own Home, all _Isabella's_ Family, and her self, were cited
+before the Magistrate of Justice, where, as soon as she was accus'd, she
+confess'd the whole Matter of Fact, and, without any Disorder, deliver'd
+her self in the Hands of Justice, as the Murderess of two Husbands (both
+belov'd) in one Night: The whole World stood amaz'd at this; who knew
+her Life a Holy and Charitable Life, and how dearly and well she had
+liv'd with her Husbands, and every one bewail'd her Misfortune, and she
+alone was the only Person, that was not afflicted for her self; she was
+Try'd, and Condemn'd to lose her Head; which Sentence, she joyfully
+receiv'd, and said, Heaven, and her Judges, were too Merciful to her,
+and that her Sins had deserv'd much more.
+
+While she was in Prison, she was always at Prayers, and very Chearful
+and Easie, distributing all she had amongst, and for the Use of, the
+Poor of the Town, especially to the Poor Widows; exhorting daily, the
+Young, and the Fair, that came perpetually to visit her, never to break
+a Vow: for that was first the Ruine of her, and she never since
+prosper'd, do whatever other good Deeds she could. When the day of
+Execution came, she appear'd on the Scaffold all in Mourning, but with a
+Meen so very Majestick and Charming, and a Face so surprizing Fair,
+where no Languishment or Fear appear'd, but all Chearful as a Bride,
+that she set all Hearts a flaming, even in that mortifying Minute of
+Preparation for Death: She made a Speech of half an Hour long, so
+Eloquent, so admirable a warning to the _Vow-Breakers_, that it was as
+amazing to hear her, as it was to behold her.
+
+After she had done with the help of _Maria_, she put off her Mourning
+Vail, and, without any thing over her Face, she kneel'd down, and the
+Executioner, at one Blow, sever'd her Beautiful Head from her Delicate
+Body, being then in her Seven and Twentieth Year. She was generally
+Lamented, and Honourably Bury'd.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The History of the Nun.
+
+
+p. 262 _The Dutchess of Mazarine._ Hortense Mancini, niece of the great
+Cardinal, was born at Rome in 1646. Her beauty and wit were such that
+Charles II (whilst in exile) and other princes of royal blood sought her
+hand. She married, however, 28 February, 1661, Armand-Charles de la
+Meilleraye, said to be 'the richest subject in Europe'. The union was
+unhappy, and in 1666 she demanded a judicial separation. Fearful,
+however, lest this should be refused, she fled from Paris 13 June, 1668,
+and, after several years of wandering, in 1675 came to London at the
+invitation of Charles II, who assigned her a pension. Her gallantries,
+her friendship with Saint-Evremond, her lavish patronage of the fine
+arts and literature are well known. She died at her Chelsea house in the
+summer of 1699. Her end is said to have been hastened by intemperance.
+Evelyn dubs her 'the famous beauty and errant lady.'
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE NUN: or, The Perjur'd Beauty.
+
+A TRUE NOVEL.
+
+
+Don _Henrique_ was a Person of great Birth, of a great Estate, of a
+Bravery equal to either, of a most generous Education, but of more
+Passion than Reason: He was besides of an opener and freer Temper than
+generally his Countrymen are (I mean, the _Spaniards_) and always
+engag'd in some Love-Intrigue or other.
+
+One Night as he was retreating from one of those Engagements, Don
+_Sebastian_, whose Sister he had abus'd with a Promise of Marriage, set
+upon him at the Corner of a Street, in _Madrid_, and by the Help of
+three of his Friends, design'd to have dispatch'd him on a doubtful
+Embassy to the Almighty Monarch: But he receiv'd their first
+Instructions with better Address than they expected, and dismiss'd his
+Envoy first, killing one of Don _Sebastian's_ Friends. Which so enrag'd
+the injur'd Brother, that his Strength and Resolution seem'd to be
+redoubled, and so animated his two surviving Companions, that
+(doubtless) they had gain'd a dishonourable Victory, had not Don
+_Antonio_ accidentally come in to the Rescue; who after a short Dispute,
+kill'd one of the two who attack'd him only; whilst Don _Henrique_, with
+the greatest Difficulty, defended his Life, for some Moments, against
+_Sebastian_, whose Rage depriv'd him of Strength, and gave his Adversary
+the unwish'd Advantage of his seeming Death, tho' not without
+bequeathing some bloody Legacies to Don _Henrique_. _Antonio_ had
+receiv'd but one slight Wound in the left Arm, and his surviving
+Antagonist none; who however thought it not adviseable to begin a fresh
+Dispute against two, of whose Courage he had but too fatal a Proof, tho'
+one of 'em was sufficiently disabled. The Conquerors, on the other Side,
+politickly retreated, and quitting the Field to the Conquer'd, left the
+Living to bury the Dead, if he could, or thought convenient.
+
+As they were marching off, Don _Antonio_, who all this while knew not
+whose Life he had so happily preserv'd, told his Companion in Arms, that
+he thought it indispensibly necessary that he should quarter with him
+that Night, for his further Preservation. To which he prudently
+consented, and went, with no little Uneasiness, to his Lodgings; where
+he surpriz'd _Antonio_ with the Sight of his dearest Friend. For they
+had certainly the nearest Sympathy in all their Thoughts, that ever made
+two brave Men unhappy: And, undoubtedly, nothing but Death, or more
+fatal Love, could have divided them. However, at present, they were
+united and secure.
+
+In the mean time, Don _Sebastian's_ Friend was just going to call Help
+to carry off the Bodies, as the ---- came by; who seeing three Men lie
+dead, seiz'd the fourth; who as he was about to justify himself, by
+discovering one of the Authors of so much Blood-shed, was interrupted by
+a Groan from his supposed dead Friend Don _Sebastian_; whom, after a
+brief Account of some Part of the Matter, and the Knowledge of his
+Quality, they took up, and carried to his House; where, within a few
+Days, he was recovered past the Fear of Death. All this While _Henrique_
+and _Antonio_ durst not appear, so much as by Night; nor could be found,
+tho' diligent and daily Search was made after the first; but upon Don
+_Sebastian's_ Recovery, the Search ceasing, they took the Advantage of
+the Night, and, in Disguise, retreated to _Seville_. 'Twas there they
+thought themselves most secure, where indeed they were in the greatest
+Danger; for tho' (haply) they might there have escap'd the murderous
+Attempt of Don _Sebastian_, and his Friends, yet they could not there
+avoid the malicious Influence of their Stars.
+
+This City gave Birth to _Antonio_, and to the Cause of his greatest
+Misfortunes, as well as of his Death. Dona _Ardelia_ was born there,
+a Miracle of Beauty and Falshood. 'Twas more than a Year since Don
+_Antonio_ had first seen and loved her. For 'twas impossible any Man
+should do one without the other. He had had the unkind Opportunity of
+speaking and conveying a Billet to her at Church; and to his greater
+Misfortune, the next Time he found her there, he met with too Kind a
+Return both from her Eyes and from her Hand, which privately slipt a
+Paper into his; in which he found abundantly more than he expected,
+directing him in that, how he should proceed, in order to carry her off
+from her Father with the least Danger he could look for in such an
+Attempt; since it would have been vain and fruitless to have asked her
+of her Father, because their Families had been at Enmity for several
+Years; tho' _Antonio_ was as well descended as she, and had as ample a
+Fortune; nor was his Person, according to his Sex, any way inferior to
+her's; and certainly, the Beauties of his Mind were more excellent,
+especially if it be an Excellence to be constant.
+
+He had made several Attempts to take Possession of her; but all prov'd
+ineffectual; however, he had the good Fortune not to be known, tho' once
+or twice he narrowly escap'd with Life, bearing off his Wounds with
+Difficulty.--(Alas, that the Wounds of Love should cause those of Hate!)
+Upon which she was strictly confin'd to one Room, whose only Window was
+towards the Garden, and that too was grated with Iron; and, once a
+Month, when she went to Church, she was constantly and carefully
+attended by her Father, and a Mother-in-Law, worse than a _Duegna_.
+Under this miserable Confinement _Antonio_ understood she still
+continued, at his Return to _Seville_, with Don _Henrique_, whom he
+acquainted with his invincible Passion for her; lamenting the Severity
+of her present Circumstances, that admitted of no Prospect of Relief;
+which caus'd a generous Concern in Don _Henrique_, both for the
+Sufferings of his Friend, and of the Lady. He proposed several Ways to
+Don _Antonio_, for the Release of the fair Prisoner; but none of them
+was thought practicable, or at least likely to succeed. But _Antonio_,
+who (you may believe) was then more nearly engag'd, bethought himself of
+an Expedient that would undoubtedly reward their Endeavours. 'Twas, that
+Don _Henrique_, who was very well acquainted with _Ardelia's_ Father,
+should make him a Visit, with Pretence of begging his Consent and
+Admission to make his Addresses to his Daughter; which, in all
+Probability, he could not refuse to Don _Henrique's_ Quality and Estate;
+and then this Freedom of Access to her would give him the Opportunity of
+delivering the Lady to his Friend. This was thought so reasonable, that
+the very next Day it was put in Practice; and with so good Success, that
+Don _Henrique_ was received by the Father of _Ardelia_ with the greatest
+and most respectful Ceremony imaginable: And when he made the Proposal
+to him of marrying his Daughter, it was embraced with a visible
+Satisfaction and Joy in the Air of his Face. This their first
+Conversation ended with all imaginable Content on both Sides; Don
+_Henrique_ being invited by the Father to Dinner the next Day, when Dona
+_Ardelia_ was to be present; who, at that Time, was said to be
+indispos'd, (as 'tis very probable she was, with so close an
+Imprisonment.) _Henrique_ returned to _Antonio_, and made him happy with
+the Account of his Reception; which could not but have terminated in the
+perfect Felicity of _Antonio_, had his Fate been just to the Merits of
+his Love. The Day and Hour came which brought _Henrique_, with a private
+Commission from his Friend, to _Ardelia_. He saw her;--(ah! would he had
+only seen her veil'd!) and, with the first Opportunity, gave her the
+Letter, which held so much Love, and so much Truth, as ought to have
+preserved him in the Empire of her Heart. It contained, besides,
+a Discovery of his whole Design upon her Father, for the compleating of
+their Happiness; which nothing then could obstruct but her self. But
+_Henrique_ had seen her; he had gaz'd, and swallowed all her Beauties at
+his Eyes. How greedily his Soul drank the strong Poison in! But yet his
+Honour and his Friendship were strong as ever, and bravely fought
+against the Usurper Love, and got a noble Victory; at least he thought
+and wish'd so. With this, and a short Answer to his Letter, _Henrique_
+return'd to the longing _Antonio_; who, receiving the Paper with the
+greatest Devotion, and kissing it with the greatest Zeal, open'd and
+read these Words to himself:
+
+  _Don +Antonio+,_
+
+  _You have, at last, made Use of the best and only Expedient for my
+  Enlargement; for which I thank you, since I know it is purely the
+  Effect of your Love. Your Agent has a mighty Influence on my Father:
+  And you may assure yourself, that as you have advis'd and desir'd
+  me, he shall have no less on me, who am_
+
+  Your's entirely,
+    And only your's,
+      _ARDELIA_.
+
+Having respectfully and tenderly kiss'd the Name, he could not chuse but
+shew the _Billet_ to his Friend; who reading that Part of it which
+concern'd himself, started and blush'd: Which _Antonio_ observing, was
+curious to know the Cause of it. _Henrique_ told him, That he was
+surpriz'd to find her express so little Love, after so long an Absence.
+To which his Friend reply'd for her, That, doubtless, she had not Time
+enough to attempt so great a Matter as a perfect Account of her Love;
+and added, that it was Confirmation enough to him of its Continuance,
+since she subscrib'd her self his entirely, and only his.--How blind is
+Love! Don _Henrique_ knew how to make it bear another Meaning; which,
+however, he had the Discretion to conceal. _Antonio_, who was as real in
+his Friendship, as constant in his Love, ask'd him what he thought of
+her Beauty? To which the other answer'd, that he thought it irresistable
+to any, but to a Soul preposses'd, and nobly fortify'd with a perfect
+Friendship:--Such as is thine, my _Henrique_, (added _Antonio_;) yet as
+sincere and perfect as that is, I know you must, nay, I know you do love
+her. As I ought to do, (reply'd _Henrique_.) Yes, yes, (return'd his
+Friend) it must be so; otherwise the Sympathy which unites our Souls
+would be wanting, and consequently our Friendship were in a State of
+Imperfection. How industriously you would argue me into a Crime, that
+would tear and destroy the Foundation of the strongest Ties of Truth and
+Honour! (said _Henrique_.) But (he continu'd) I hope within a few Days,
+to put it out of my Power to be guilty of so great a Sacrilege. I can't
+determine (said _Antonio_) if I knew that you lov'd one another, whether
+I could easier part with my Friend, or my Mistress. Tho' what you say,
+is highly generous, (reply'd _Henrique_) yet give me Leave to urge, that
+it looks like a Trial of Friendship, and argues you inclinable to
+Jealousy: But, pardon me, I know it to be sincerely meant by you; and
+must therefore own, that 'tis the best, because 'tis the noblest Way of
+securing both your Friend and Mistress. I need not make use of any Arts
+to secure me of either, (reply'd _Antonio_) but expect to enjoy 'em both
+in a little Time.
+
+_Henrique_, who was a little uneasy with a Discourse of this Nature,
+diverted it, by reflecting on what had pass'd at _Madrid_, between them
+two and Don _Sebastian_ and his Friends; which caus'd _Antonio_ to
+bethink himself of the Danger to which he expos'd his Friend, by
+appearing daily, tho' in Disguise: For, doubtless, Don _Sebastian_ would
+pursue his Revenge to the utmost Extremity. These Thoughts put him upon
+desiring his Friend, for his own Sake, to hasten the Performance of his
+Attempt; and accordingly, each Day Don _Henrique_ brought _Antonio_
+nearer the Hopes of Happiness, while he himself was hourly sinking into
+the lowest State of Misery. The last Night before the Day in which
+_Antonio_ expected to be bless'd in her Love, Don _Henrique_ had a long
+and fatal Conference with her about her Liberty. Being then with her
+alone in an Arbour of the Garden, which Privilege he had had for some
+Days; after a long Silence, and observing Don _Henrique_ in much
+Disorder, by the Motion of his Eyes, which were sometimes stedfastly
+fix'd on the Ground, then lifted up to her or Heaven, (for he could see
+nothing more beautiful on Earth) she made use of the Privilege of her
+Sex, and began the Discourse first, to this Effect:--Has any Thing
+happened, Sir, since our Retreat hither, to occasion that Disorder which
+is but too visible in your Face, and too dreadful in your continued
+Silence? Speak, I beseech you, Sir, and let me know if I have any Way
+unhappily contributed to it! No, Madam, (replyed he) my Friendship is
+now likely to be the only Cause of my greatest Misery; for To-morrow I
+must be guilty of an unpardonable Crime, in betraying the generous
+Confidence which your noble Father has plac'd in me: To-morrow (added
+he, with a piteous Sigh) I must deliver you into the Hands of one whom
+your Father hates even to Death, instead of doing myself the Honour of
+becoming his Son-in-law within a few Days more.--But--I will consider
+and remind myself, that I give you into the Hands of my Friend; of my
+Friend, that loves you better than his Life, which he has often expos'd
+for your Sake; and what is more than all, to my Friend, whom you love
+more than any Consideration on Earth.--And must this be done? (she
+ask'd.) Is it inevitable as Fate?--Fix'd as the Laws of Nature, Madam,
+(reply'd he) don't you find the Necessity of it, _Ardelia_? (continued
+he, by Way of Question:) Does not your Love require it? Think, you are
+going to your dear _Antonio_, who alone can merit you, and whom only you
+can love. Were your last Words true (returned she) I should yet be
+unhappy in the Displeasure of a dear and tender Father, and infinitely
+more, in being the Cause of your Infidelity to him: No, Don _Henrique_
+(continued she) I could with greater Satisfaction return to my miserable
+Confinement, than by any Means disturb the Peace of your Mind, or
+occasion one Moment's Interruption of your Quiet.--Would to Heaven you
+did not, (sigh'd he to himself.) Then addressing his Words more
+distinctly to her, cry'd he, Ah, cruel! ah, unjust _Ardelia_! these
+Words belong to none but _Antonio_; why then would you endeavour to
+persuade me, that I do, or even can merit the Tenderness of such an
+Expression?--Have a Care! (pursued he) have a Care, _Ardelia_! your
+outward Beauties are too powerful to be resisted; even your Frowns have
+such a Sweetness that they attract the very Soul that is not strongly
+prepossessed with the noblest Friendship, and the highest Principles of
+Honour: Why then, alas! did you add such sweet and Charming Accents?
+Why--ah, Don _Henrique_! (she interrupted) why did you appear to me so
+charming in your Person, so great in your Friendship, and so illustrious
+in your Reputation? Why did my Father, ever since your first Visit,
+continually fill my Ears and Thoughts with noble Characters and glorious
+Ideas, which yet but imperfectly and faintly represent the inimitable
+Original!--But--(what is most severe and cruel) why, Don _Henrique_, why
+will you defeat my Father in his Ambition of your Alliance, and me of
+those glorious Hopes with which you had bless'd my Soul, by casting me
+away from you to _Antonio_!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting) what said you,
+Madam? What did _Ardelia_ say? That I had bless'd your Soul with Hopes!
+That I would cast you away to _Antonio_!--Can they who safely arrive in
+their wish'd-for Port, be said to be shipwreck'd? Or, can an abject
+indigent Wretch make a King?--These are more than Riddles, Madam; and I
+must not think to expound 'em. No, (said she) let it alone, Don
+_Henrique_; I'll ease you of that Trouble, and tell you plainly that I
+love you. Ah! (cry'd he) now all my Fears are come upon me!--How! (ask'd
+she) were you afraid I should love you? Is my Love so dreadful then?
+Yes, when misplac'd (reply'd he;) but 'twas your Falshood that I fear'd:
+Your Love was what I would have sought with the utmost Hazard of my
+Life, nay, even of my future Happiness, I fear, had you not been
+engag'd: strongly oblig'd to love elsewhere, both by your own Choice and
+Vows, as well as by his dangerous Services, and matchless Constancy. For
+which (said she) I do not hate him, tho' his Father kill'd my Uncle:
+Nay, perhaps (continu'd she) I have a Friendship for him, but no more.
+No more, said you, Madam? (cry'd he;)--but tell me, did you never love
+him? Indeed, I did, (reply'd she;) but the Sight of you has better
+instructed me, both in my Duty to my Father, and in causing my Passion
+for you, without whom I shall be eternally miserable. Ah, then pursue
+your honourable Proposal, and make my Father happy in my Marriage! It
+must not be (return'd Don _Henrique_) my Honour, my Friendship forbids
+it. No (she return'd) your Honour requires it; and if your Friendship
+opposes your Honour, it can have no sure and solid Foundation. Female
+Sophistry! (cry'd _Henrique_;) but you need no Art nor Artifice,
+_Ardelia_, to make me love you: Love you! (pursu'd he:) By that bright
+Sun, the Light and Heat of all the World, you are my only Light and
+Heat--Oh, Friendship! Sacred Friendship, now assist me!--[Here for a
+Time he paus'd, and then afresh proceeded thus,]--You told me, or my
+Ears deceiv'd me, that you lov'd me, _Ardelia_. I did, she reply'd; and
+that I do love you, is as true as that I told you so. 'Tis well;--But
+would it were not so! Did ever Man receive a Blessing thus?--Why,
+I could wish I did not love you, _Ardelia_! But that were impossible--At
+least unjust, (interrupted she.) Well then (he went on) to shew you that
+I do sincerely consult your particular Happiness, without any regard to
+my own, To-morrow I will give you to Don _Antonio_; and as a Proof of
+your Love to me, I expect your ready Consent to it. To let you see, Don
+_Henrique_, how perfectly and tenderly I love you, I will be sacrificed
+To-morrow to Don _Antonio_, and to your Quiet. Oh, strongest, dearest
+Obligation!--cry'd _Henrique_: To-morrow then, as I have told your
+Father, I am to bring you to see the dearest Friend I have on Earth, who
+dares not appear within this City for some unhappy Reasons, and
+therefore cannot be present at our Nuptials; for which Cause, I could
+not but think it my Duty to one so nearly related to my Soul, to make
+him happy in the Sight of my beautiful Choice, e'er yet she be my Bride.
+I hope (said she) my loving Obedience may merit your Compassion; and
+that at last, e'er the Fire is lighted that must consume the Offering,
+I mean the Marriage-Tapers (alluding to the old _Roman_ Ceremony) that
+you or some other pitying Angel, will snatch me from the Altar. Ah, no
+more, _Ardelia_! say no more (cry'd he) we must be cruel, to be just to
+our selves. [Here their Discourse ended, and they walked into the House,
+where they found the good old Gentleman and his Lady, with whom he
+stay'd till about an Hour after Supper, when he returned to his Friend
+with joyful News, but a sorrowful Heart.]
+
+_Antonio_ was all Rapture with the Thoughts of the approaching Day;
+which tho' it brought Don _Henrique_ and his dear _Ardelia_ to him,
+about five o'Clock in the Evening, yet at the same Time brought his last
+and greatest Misfortune. He saw her then at a She Relation's of his,
+above three Miles from _Seville_, which was the Place assigned for their
+fatal Interview. He saw her, I say; but ah! how strange! how altered
+from the dear, kind _Ardelia_ she was when last he left her! 'Tis true,
+he flew to her with Arms expanded, and with so swift and eager a Motion,
+that she could not avoid, nor get loose from his Embrace, till he had
+kissed, and sighed, and dropt some Tears, which all the Strength of his
+Mind could not restrain; whether they were the Effects of Joy, or
+whether (which rather may be feared) they were the Heat-drops which
+preceded and threaten'd the Thunder and Tempest that should fall on his
+Head, I cannot positively say; yet all this she was then forced to
+endure, e'er she had Liberty to speak, or indeed to breathe. But as soon
+as she had freed herself from the loving Circle that should have been
+the dear and lov'd Confinement or Centre of a Faithful Heart, she began
+to dart whole Showers of Tortures on him from her Eyes; which that Mouth
+that he had just before so tenderly and sacredly kiss'd, seconded with
+whole Volleys of Deaths crammed in every Sentence, pointed with the
+keenest Affliction that ever pierc'd a Soul. _Antonio_, (she began) you
+have treated me now as if you were never like to see me more: and would
+to Heaven you were not!--Ha! (cry'd he, starting and staring wildly on
+her;) What said you, Madam? What said you, my _Ardelia_? If you like the
+Repetition, take it? (reply'd she, unmoved) _Would to Heaven you were
+never like to see me more!_ Good! very Good! (cry'd he, with a Sigh that
+threw him trembling into a Chair behind him, and gave her the
+Opportunity of proceeding thus:)--Yet, _Antonio_, I must not have my
+Wish; I must continue with you, not out of Choice, but by Command, by
+the strictest and severest Obligation that ever bound Humanity; Don
+_Henrique_, your Friend, commands it; Don _Henrique_, the dearest Object
+of my Soul, enjoins it; Don _Henrique_, whose only Aversion I am, will
+have it so. Oh, do not wrong me, Madam! (cry'd Don _Henrique_.) Lead me,
+lead me a little more by the Light of your Discourse, I beseech you
+(said Don _Antonio_) that I may see your Meaning! for hitherto 'tis
+Darkness all to me. Attend therefore with your best Faculties (pursu'd
+_Ardelia_) and know, That I do most sincerely and most passionately love
+Don _Henrique_; and as a Proof of my Love to him, I have this Day
+consented to be delivered up to you by him; not for your Sake in the
+least, _Antonio_, but purely to sacrifice all the Quiet of my Life to
+his Satisfaction. And now, Sir (continued she, addressing her self to
+Don _Henrique_) now, Sir, if you can be so cruel, execute your own most
+dreadful Decree, and join our Hands, though our Hearts never can meet.
+All this to try me! It's too much, _Ardelia_--(said _Antonio_:) And then
+turning to Don _Henrique_, he went on, Speak thou! if yet thou art not
+Apostate to our Friendship! Yet speak, however! Speak, though the Devil
+has been tampering with thee too! Thou art a Man, a Man of Honour once.
+And when I forfeit my just Title to that (interrupted Don _Henrique_)
+may I be made most miserable!--May I lose the Blessings of thy
+Friendship!--May I lose thee!--Say on then, _Henrique_! (cry'd
+_Antonio_:) And I charge thee, by all the sacred Ties of Friendship,
+say, Is this a Trial of me? Is't Illusion, Sport, or shameful murderous
+Truth?--Oh, my Soul burns within me, and I can bear no longer!--Tell!
+Speak! Say on!--[Here, with folded Arms, and Eyes fixed stedfastly on
+_Henrique_, he stood like a Statue, without Motion; unless sometimes,
+when his swelling Heart raised his over-charged Breast.] After a little
+Pause, and a hearty Sigh or two, _Henrique_ began;--Oh, _Antonio_! Oh my
+Friend! prepare thy self to hear yet more dreadful Accents!--I am
+(pursu'd he) unhappily the greatest and most innocent Criminal that e'er
+till now offended:--I love her, _Antonio_,--I love _Ardelia_ with a
+Passion strong and violent as thine!--Oh! summon all that us'd to be
+more than Man about thee, to suffer to the End of my Discourse, which
+nothing but a Resolution like thine can bear! I know it by myself.--Tho'
+there be Wounds, Horror, and Death in each Syllable (interrupted
+_Antonio_) yet prithee now go on, but with all Haste. I will, (returned
+Don _Henrique_) tho' I feel my own Words have the same cruel Effects on
+me. I say, again, my Soul loves _Ardelia_: And how can it be otherwise?
+Have we not both the self-same Appetites, the same Disgusts? How then
+could I avoid my Destiny, that has decreed that I should love and hate
+just as you do? Oh, hard Necessity! that obliged you to use me in the
+Recovery of this Lady! Alas, can you think that any Man of Sense or
+Passion could have seen, and not have lov'd her! Then how should I,
+whose Thoughts are Unisons to yours, evade those Charms that had
+prevail'd on you?--And now, to let you know, 'tis no Illusion, no Sport,
+but serious and amazing woeful Truth, _Ardelia_ best can tell you whom
+she loves. What I have already said, is true, by Heaven (cry'd she) 'tis
+you, Don _Henrique_, whom I only love, and who alone can give me
+Happiness: Ah, would you would!--With you, _Antonio_, I must remain
+unhappy, wretched, cursed: Thou art my Hell; Don _Henrique_ is my
+Heaven. And thou art mine, (returned he) which here I part with to my
+dearest Friend. Then taking her Hand, Pardon me, _Antonio_, (pursued he)
+that I thus take my last Farewel of all the Tastes of Bliss from your
+_Ardelia_, at this Moment. [At which Words he kiss'd her Hand, and gave
+it to Don _Antonio_; who received it, and gently pressed it close to his
+Heart, as if he would have her feel the Disorders she had caus'd there.]
+Be happy, _Antonio_, (cry'd _Henrique_:) Be very tender of her;
+To-morrow early I shall hope to see thee.--_Ardelia_ (pursued he) All
+Happiness and Joy surround thee! May'st thou ne'er want those Blessings
+thou can'st give _Antonio_!--Farewel to both! (added he, going out.) Ah
+(cry'd she) Farewel to all Joys, Blessings, Happiness, if you forsake
+me.--Yet do not go!--Ah, cruel! (continu'd she, seeing him quit the
+Room) but you shall take my Soul with you. Here she swooned away in Don
+_Antonio's_ Arms; who, though he was happy that he had her fast there,
+yet was obliged to call in his Cousin, and _Ardelia's_ Attendants, e'er
+she could be perfectly recovered. In the mean while Don _Henrique_ had
+not the Power to go out of Sight of the House, but wandred to and fro
+about it, distracted in his Soul; and not being able longer to refrain
+her Sight, her last Words still resounding in his Ears, he came again
+into the Room where he left her with Don _Antonio_, just as she revived,
+and called him, exclaiming on his Cruelty, in leaving her so soon. But
+when, turning her Eyes towards the Door, she saw him; Oh! with what
+eager Haste she flew to him! then clasped him round the Waist, obliging
+him, with all the tender Expressions that the Soul of a Lover, and a
+Woman's too, is capable of uttering, not to leave her in the Possession
+of Don _Antonio_. This so amaz'd her slighted Lover, that he knew not,
+at first, how to proceed in this tormenting Scene; but at last,
+summoning all his wonted Resolution, and Strength of Mind, he told her,
+He would put her out of his Power, if she would consent to retreat for
+some few Hours to a Nunnery that was not above half a Mile distant from
+thence, till he had discoursed his Friend, Don _Henrique_ something more
+particularly than hitherto, about this Matter: To which she readily
+agreed, upon the Promise that Don _Henrique_ made her, of seeing her
+with the first Opportunity. They waited on her then to the Convent,
+where she was kindly and respectfully received by the Lady Abbess; but
+it was not long before her Grief renewing with greater Violence, and
+more afflicting Circumstances, had obliged them to stay with her till it
+was almost dark, when they once more begged the Liberty of an Hour's
+Absence; and the better to palliate their Design, _Henrique_ told her,
+that he would make use of her Father Don _Richardo's_ Coach, in which
+they came to Don _Antonio's_, for so small a Time: which they did,
+leaving only _Eleonora_ her Attendant with her, with out whom she had
+been at a Loss, among so many fair Strangers; Strangers, I mean, to her
+unhappy Circumstances: Whilst they were carry'd near a Mile farther,
+where, just as 'twas dark, they lighted from the Coach, Don _Henrique_,
+ordering the Servants not to stir thence till their Return from their
+private Walk, which was about a Furlong, in a Field that belong'd to the
+Convent. Here Don _Antonio_ told Don _Henrique_, That he had not acted
+honourably; That he had betray'd him, and robb'd him at once both of a
+Friend and Mistress. To which t'other returned, That he understood his
+Meaning, when he proposed a particular Discourse about this Affair,
+which he now perceived must end in Blood: But you may remind your self
+(continued he) that I have kept my Promise in delivering her to you.
+Yes, (cry'd _Antonio_) after you had practis'd foully and basely on her.
+Not at all! (returned _Henrique_) It was her Fate that brought this
+Mischief on her; for I urged the Shame and Scandal of Inconstancy, but
+all in vain, to her. But don't you love her, _Henrique_? (the other
+ask'd.) Too well, and cannot live without her, though I fear I may feel
+the cursed Effects of the same Inconstancy: However, I had quitted her
+all to you, but you see how she resents it. And you shall see, Sir,
+(cry'd _Antonio_, drawing his Sword in a Rage) how I resent it. Here,
+without more Words, they fell to Action; to bloody Action. (Ah! how
+wretched are our Sex, in being the unhappy Occasion of so many fatal
+Mischiefs, even between the dearest Friends!) They fought on each Side
+with the greatest Animosity of Rivals, forgetting all the sacred Bonds
+of their former Friendship; till Don _Antonio_ fell, and said, dying,
+'Forgive me, _Henrique_! I was to blame; I could not live without
+her:--I fear she will betray thy Life, which haste and preserve, for my
+sake--Let me not die all at once!--Heaven pardon both of us!--Farewel!
+Oh, haste! Farewel! (_returned Don +Henrique+_) Farewel, thou bravest,
+truest Friend! Farewel thou noblest Part of me!--And Farewel all the
+Quiet of my Soul.' Then stooping, he kissed his Cheek; but, rising, he
+found he must retire in time, or else must perish through Loss of Blood,
+for he had received two or three dangerous Wounds, besides others of
+less Consequence: Wherefore he made all the convenient Haste he could to
+the Coach, into which, by the Help of the Footmen, he got, and order'd
+'em to drive him directly to Don _Richardo's_ with all imaginable Speed;
+where he arriv'd in little more than half an Hour's Time, and was
+received by _Ardelia's_ Father with the greatest Confusion and Amazement
+that is expressible, seeing him return'd without his Daughter, and so
+desperately wounded. Before he thought it convenient to ask him any
+Question more than to enquire of his Daughter's Safety, to which he
+receiv'd a short but satisfactory Answer, Don _Richardo_ sent for an
+eminent and able Surgeon, who probed and dress'd Don _Henrique's_
+Wounds, who was immediately put to Bed; not without some Despondency of
+his Recovery; but (thanks to his kind Stars, and kinder Constitution!)
+he rested pretty well for some Hours that Night, and early in the
+Morning, _Ardelia's_ Father, who had scarce taken any Rest all that
+Night, came to visit him, as soon as he understood from the Servants who
+watched with him, that he was in a Condition to suffer a short
+Discourse; which, you may be sure, was to learn the Circumstances of the
+past Night's Adventure; of which Don _Henrique_ gave him a perfect and
+pleasant Account, since he heard that Don _Antonio_, his mortal Enemy,
+was killed; the Assurance of whose Death was the more delightful to him,
+since, by this Relation, he found that _Antonio_ was the Man, whom his
+Care of his Daughter had so often frustrated. Don _Henrique_ had hardly
+made an End of his Narration, e'er a Servant came hastily to give
+_Richardo_ Notice, that the Officers were come to search for his
+Son-in-Law that should have been; whom the Old Gentleman's wise
+Precaution had secured in a Room so unsuspected, that they might as
+reasonably have imagined the entire Walls of his House had a Door made
+of Stones, as that there should have been one to that close Apartment:
+He went therefore boldly to the Officers, and gave them all the Keys of
+his House, with free Liberty to examine every Room and Chamber; which
+they did, but to no Purpose; and Don _Henrique_ lay there undiscover'd,
+till his Cure was perfected.
+
+In the mean time _Ardelia_, who that fatal Night but too rightly guess'd
+that the Death of one or both her Lovers was the Cause that they did not
+return to their Promise, the next Day fell into a high Fever, in which
+her Father found her soon after he had clear'd himself of those who come
+to search for a Lover. The Assurance which her Father gave her of
+_Henrique's_ Life, seemed a little to revive her; but the Severity of
+_Antonio's_ Fate was no Way obliging to her, since she could not but
+retain the Memory of his Love and Constancy; which added to her
+Afflictions, and heightned her Distemper, insomuch that _Richardo_ was
+constrain'd to leave her under the Care of the good Lady Abbess, and to
+the diligent Attendance of _Eleonora_, not daring to hazard her Life in
+a Removal to his own House. All their Care and Diligence was however
+ineffectual; for she languished even to the least Hope of Recovery, till
+immediately after the first Visit of Don _Henrique_, which was the first
+he made in a Month's Time, and that by Night _incognito_, with her
+Father, her Distemper visibly retreated each Day: Yet when at last she
+enjoy'd a perfect Health of Body, her Mind grew sick, and she plunged
+into a deep Melancholy; which made her entertain a positive Resolution
+of taking the Veil at the End of her Novitiate; which accordingly she
+did, notwithstanding all the Intreaties, Prayers, and Tears both of her
+Father and Lover. But she soon repented her Vow, and often wish'd that
+she might by any Means see and speak to Don _Henrique_, by whose Help
+she promised to her self a Deliverance out of her voluntary
+Imprisonment: Nor were his Wishes wanting to the same Effect, tho' he
+was forced to fly into _Italy_, to avoid the Prosecution of _Antonio's_
+Friends. Thither she pursu'd him; nor could he any way shun her, unless
+he could have left his Heart at a Distance from his Body: Which made him
+take a fatal Resolution of returning to _Seville_ in Disguise, where he
+wander'd about the Convent every Night like a Ghost (for indeed his Soul
+was within, while his inanimate Trunk was without) till at last he found
+Means to convey a Letter to her, which both surprized and delighted her.
+The Messenger that brought it her was one of her Mother-in-Law's Maids,
+whom he had known before, and met accidentally one Night as he was going
+his Rounds, and she coming out from _Ardelia_; with her he prevail'd,
+and with Gold obliged her to Secrecy and Assistance: Which proved so
+successful, that he understood from _Ardelia_ her strong Desire of
+Liberty, and the Continuance of her Passion for him, together with the
+Means and Time most convenient and likely to succeed for her
+Enlargement. The Time was the fourteenth Night following, at twelve
+o'Clock, which just compleated a Month since his Return thither; at
+which Time they both promised themselves the greatest Happiness on
+Earth. But you may observe the Justice of Heaven, in their
+Disappointment.
+
+Don _Sebastian_, who still pursu'd him with a most implacable Hatred,
+had traced him even to _Italy_, and there narrowly missing him, posted
+after him to _Toledo_; so sure and secret was his Intelligence! As soon
+as he arriv'd, he went directly to the Convent where his Sister _Elvira_
+had been one of the Profess'd, ever since Don _Henrique_ had forsaken
+her, and where _Ardelia_ had taken her repented Vow. _Elvira_ had all
+along conceal'd the Occasion of her coming thither from _Ardelia_; and
+tho' she was her only Confident, and knew the whole Story of her
+Misfortunes, and heard the Name of Don _Henrique_ repeated a hundred
+Times a Day, whom still she lov'd most perfectly, yet never gave her
+beautiful Rival any Cause of Suspicion that she lov'd him, either by
+Words or Looks: Nay more, when she understood that Don _Henrique_ came
+to the Convent with _Ardelia_ and _Antonio_, and at other Times with her
+Father; yet she had so great a Command of her self, as to refrain seeing
+him, or to be seen by him; nor ever intended to have spoken or writ to
+him, had not her Brother Don _Sebastian_ put her upon the cruel
+Necessity of doing the last; who coming to visit his Sister (as I have
+said before) found her with Dona _Ardelia_, whom he never remembred to
+have seen, nor who ever had seen him but twice, and that was about six
+Years before, when she was but ten Years of Age, when she fell
+passionately in Love with him, and continu'd her Passion till about the
+fourteenth Year of her Empire, when unfortunate _Antonio_ first began
+his Court to her. Don _Sebastian_ was really a very desirable Person,
+being at that time very beautiful, his Age not exceeding six and twenty,
+of a sweet Conversation, very brave, but revengeful and irreconcilable
+(like most of his Countrymen) and of an honourable Family. At the Sight
+of him _Ardelia_ felt her former Passion renew; which proceeded and
+continued with such Violence, that it utterly defac'd the Ideas of
+_Antonio_ and _Henrique_. (No Wonder that she who could resolve to
+forsake her God for Man, should quit one Lover for another.) In short,
+she then only wished that he might love her equally, and then she
+doubted not of contriving the Means of their Happiness betwixt 'em. She
+had her Wish, and more, if possible; for he lov'd her beyond the Thought
+of any other present or future Blessing, and fail'd not to let her know
+it, at the second Interview; when he receiv'd the greatest Pleasure he
+could have wish'd, next to the Joys of a Bridal Bed: For she confessed
+her Love to him, and presently put him upon thinking on the Means of her
+Escape; but not finding his Designs so likely to succeed, as those
+Measures she had sent to Don _Henrique_, she communicates the very same
+to Don _Sebastian_, and agreed with him to make use of them on that very
+Night, wherein she had obliged Don _Henrique_ to attempt her
+Deliverance: The Hour indeed was different, being determined to be at
+eleven. _Elvira_, who was present at the Conference, took the Hint; and
+not being willing to disoblige a Brother who had so hazarded his Life in
+Vindication of her, either does not, or would not seem to oppose his
+Inclinations at that Time: However, when he retired with her to talk
+more particularly of his intended Revenge on Don _Henrique_, who he told
+her lay somewhere absconded in _Toledo_, and whom he had resolved, as he
+assured her, to sacrifice to her injur'd Honour, and his Resentments;
+she oppos'd that his vindictive Resolution with all the forcible
+Arguments in a virtuous and pious Lady's Capacity, but in vain: so that
+immediately upon his Retreat from the Convent, she took the Opportunity
+of writing to Don _Henrique_ as follows, the fatal Hour not being then
+seven Nights distant.
+
+  Don _Henrique_,
+
+  _My Brother is now in Town, in Pursuit of your Life; nay more, of
+  your Mistress, who has consented to make her Escape from the
+  Convent, at the same Place of it, and by the same Means on which she
+  had agreed to give her self entirely to you, but the Hour is eleven.
+  I know, +Henrique+, your +Ardelia+ is dearer to you than your Life:
+  But your Life, your dear Life, is more desired than any Thing in
+  this World, by_
+
+  Your injur'd and forsaken
+
+  _ELVIRA_.
+
+This she delivered to _Richardo's_ Servant, whom _Henrique_ had gained
+that Night, as soon as she came to visit _Ardelia_, at her usual Hour,
+just as she went out of the Cloister.
+
+Don _Henrique_ was not a little surprized with this _Billet_; however,
+he could hardly resolve to forbear his accustom'd Visits to _Ardelia_,
+at first: But upon more mature Consideration, he only chose to converse
+with her by Letters, which still press'd her to be mindful of her
+Promise, and of the Hour, not taking notice of any Caution that he had
+received of her Treachery. To which she still return'd in Words that
+might assure him of her Constancy.
+
+The dreadful Hour wanted not a Quarter of being perfect, when Don
+_Henrique_ came; and having fixed his Rope-Ladder to that Part of the
+Garden-Wall, where he was expected, _Ardelia_, who had not stir'd from
+that very Place for a Quarter of an Hour before, prepar'd to ascend by
+it; which she did, as soon as his Servant had returned and fixed it on
+the inner-side of the Wall: On the Top of which, at a little Distance,
+she found another fasten'd, for her to descend on the out-side, whilst
+Don _Henrique_ eagerly waited to receive her. She came at last, and flew
+into his Arms; which made _Henrique_ cry out in a Rapture, _Am I at last
+once more happy in having my +Ardelia+ in my Possession!_ She, who knew
+his Voice, and now found she was betray'd, but knew not by whom,
+shriek'd out, _I am ruined! help! help!--Loose me, I charge you,
++Henrique!+ Loose me!_ At that very Moment, and at those very Words,
+came _Sebastian_, attended by only one Servant; and hearing _Henrique_
+reply, _Not all the Powers of Hell shall snatch you from me_, drawing
+his Sword, without one Word, made a furious Pass at him: But his Rage
+and Haste misguided his Arm, for his Sword went quite through
+_Ardelia's_ Body, who only said, _Ah, wretched Maid!_ and drop'd from
+_Henrique's_ Arms, who then was obliged to quit her, to preserve his own
+Life, if possible: however he had not had so much Time as to draw, had
+not _Sebastian_ been amazed at this dreadful Mistake of his Sword; but
+presently recollecting himself, he flew with redoubled Rage to attack
+_Henrique_; and his Servant had seconded him, had not _Henrique's_, who
+was now descended, otherwise diverted him. They fought with the greatest
+Animosity on both Sides, and with equal Advantage; for they both fell
+together: _Ah, my +Ardelia+, I come to thee now!_ (_Sebastian_ groan'd
+out,)--_'Twas this unlucky Arm, which now embraces thee, that killed
+thee._ _Just Heaven!_ (she sigh'd out,)--_Oh, yet have Mercy!_ [Here
+they both dy'd.] _Amen_, (cry'd _Henrique_, dying) _I want it most_--
+_Oh, +Antonio+!_ _Oh, +Elvira+! Ah, there's the Weight that sinks
+me down.--And yet I wish Forgiveness.--Once more, sweet Heaven, have
+Mercy!_ He could not out-live that last Word; which was echo'd by
+_Elvira_, who all this while stood weeping, and calling out for Help, as
+she stood close to the Wall in the Garden.
+
+This alarmed the Rest of the Sisters, who rising, caus'd the Bell to be
+rung out, as upon dangerous Occasions it used to be; which rais'd the
+Neighbourhood, who came time enough to remove the dead Bodies of the two
+Rivals, and of the late fallen Angel _Ardelia_. The injur'd and
+neglected _Elvira_, whose Piety designed quite contrary Effects, was
+immediately seiz'd with a violent Fever; which, as it was violent, did
+not last long: for she dy'd within four and twenty Hours, with all the
+happy Symptoms of a departing Saint.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE LUCKY MISTAKE.
+
+
+
+
+  TO GEORGE GREENVIEL, ESQ;
+
+  Sir,
+
+At this Critical Juncture, I find the Authors will have need of a
+Protector, as well as the Nation, we having peculiar Laws and Liberties
+to be defended as well as that, but of how different a Nature, none but
+such Judges as you are fit to determine; whatever our Province be, I am
+sure it should be Wit, and you know what Ellevated _Ben_ says, _That
+none can judge of Wit but Wit._ Let the _Heroes_ toyl for Crowns and
+Kingdoms and with what pretences they please. Let the Slaves of State
+drudge on for false and empty Glories, troubling the repose of the World
+and ruining their own to gain uneasy Grandure, whilst you, oh! happyer
+Sir, great enough by your Birth, yet more Illustrious by your Wit, are
+capable of enjoying alone that true Felicity of Mind, which belongs to
+an absolutely Vertuous and Gallant Man, by that, and the lively Notions
+of Honour Imprinted in your Soul, you are above Ambition, and can Form
+_Kings_ and _Heroes_, when 'ere your delicate Fancy shall put you upon
+the Poetical Creation.
+
+You can make those _Heroes_ Lovers too, and inspire 'em with a Language
+so Irresistable as may instruct the Fair, how easily you may Conquer
+when it comes to your turn, to plead for a Heart, nor is your delicate
+Wit the only Charm; your Person claims an equal share of Graces with
+those of your Mind, and both together are capable of rendering you
+Victorious, whereever you shall please to Address 'em, but your Vertue
+keeps you from those Ravages of Beauty, which so wholly imploy the hours
+of the Rest of the Gay and Young, whilst you have business more sollid,
+and more noble for yours.
+
+I would not by this have the World imagine you are therefore exempt from
+the tenderness of Love, it rather seems you were on purpose form'd for
+that Soft Entertainment, such an Agreement there is between the Harmony
+of your Soul and your Person, and sure the _Muses_ who have so divinely
+inspir'd you with Poetic Fires, have furnisht you with that Necessary
+Material (Love) to maintain it, and to make it burn with the more
+Ellevated Flame.
+
+'Tis therefore, Sir, I expect you will the more easily Pardon the
+Dedicating to your idler hours (if any such you have) this little Amour,
+all that I shall say for it, is, that 'tis not Translation but an
+Original, that has more of realty than fiction, if I have not made it
+fuller of intreague, 'twas because I had a mind to keep close to the
+Truth.
+
+I must own, Sir, the Obligations I have to you, deserves a greater
+testimony of my respect, than this little piece, too trivial to bear the
+honour of your Name, but my increasing Indisposition makes me fear I
+shall not have many opportunities of this Kind, and shou'd be loath to
+leave this ungrateful World, without acknowledging my Gratitude more
+signally than barely by word of Mouth, and without wishing you all the
+happiness your merit and admirable Vertues deserve and of assuring you
+how unfeignedly I am (and how Proud of being) Sir,
+
+  Your most obliged and
+    most humble servant
+      A. Behn.
+
+
+
+
+THE LUCKY MISTAKE: A NEW NOVEL.
+
+
+The River _Loyre_ has on its delightful Banks abundance of handsome,
+beautiful and rich Towns and Villages, to which the noble Stream adds no
+small Graces and Advantages, blessing their Fields with Plenty, and
+their Eyes with a thousand Diversions. In one of these happily situated
+Towns, called _Orleans_, where abundance of People of the best Quality
+and Condition reside, there was a rich Nobleman, now retir'd from the
+busy Court, where in his Youth he had been bred, weary'd with the Toils
+of Ceremony and Noise, to enjoy that perfect Tranquillity of Life, which
+is no where to be found but in Retreat, a faithful Friend, and a good
+Library; and, as the admirable _Horace_ says, in a little House and a
+large Garden. Count _Bellyaurd_, for so was this Nobleman call'd, was of
+this Opinion; and the rather, because he had one only Son, called
+_Rinaldo_, now grown to the Age of fifteen, who having all the excellent
+Qualities and Graces of Youth by Nature, he would bring him up in all
+Virtues and noble Sciences, which he believ'd the Gaiety and Lustre of
+the Court might divert: he therefore in his Retirement spar'd no Cost to
+those that could instruct and accomplish him; and he had the best Tutors
+and Masters that could be purchased at Court: _Bellyaurd_ making far
+less Account of Riches than of fine Parts. He found his Son capable of
+all Impressions, having a Wit suitable to his delicate Person, so that
+he was the sole Joy of his Life, and the Darling of his Eyes.
+
+In the very next House, which join'd close to that of _Bellyaurd's_,
+there lived another Count, who had in his Youth been banished the Court
+of _France_ for some Misunderstandings in some high Affairs wherein he
+was concern'd: his Name was _De Pais_, a Man of great Birth, but of no
+Fortune; or at least one not suitable to the Grandeur of his Original.
+And as it is most natural for great Souls to be most proud (if I may
+call a handsome Disdain by that vulgar Name) when they are most
+depress'd; so _De Pais_ was more retir'd, more estrang'd from his
+Neighbours, and kept a greater Distance, than if he had enjoy'd all he
+had lost at Court; and took more Solemnity and State upon him, because
+he would not be subject to the Reproaches of the World, by making
+himself familiar with it: So that he rarely visited; and, contrary to
+the Custom of those in _France_, who are easy of Access, and free of
+Conversation, he kept his Family retir'd so close, that 'twas rare to
+see any of them; and when they went abroad, which was but seldom, they
+wanted nothing as to outward Appearance, that was fit for his Quality,
+and what was much above his Condition.
+
+This old Count had two only Daughters, of exceeding Beauty, who gave the
+generous Father ten thousand Torments, as often as he beheld them, when
+he consider'd their extreme Beauty, their fine Wit, their Innocence,
+Modesty, and above all their Birth; and that he had not a Fortune to
+marry them according to their Quality; and below it, he had rather see
+them laid in their silent Graves, than consent to it: for he scorn'd the
+World should see him forced by his Poverty to commit an Action below his
+Dignity.
+
+There lived in a neighbouring Town, a certain Nobleman, Friend to _De
+Pais_, call'd Count _Vernole_, a Man of about forty years of Age, of low
+Stature, Complexion very black and swarthy, lean, lame, extreme proud
+and haughty; extracted of a Descent from the Blood-Royal; not extremely
+brave, but very glorious: he had no very great Estate, but was in
+Election of a greater, and of an Addition of Honour from the King, his
+Father having done most worthy Services against the _Hugonots_, and by
+the high Favour of Cardinal _Mazarine_, was represented to his Majesty,
+as a Man related to the Crown, of great Name, but small Estate: so that
+there were now nothing but great Expectations and Preparations in the
+Family of Count _Vernole_ to go to the Court, to which he daily hoped an
+Invitation or Command.
+
+_Vernole's_ Fortune being hitherto something a-kin to that of _De Pais_,
+there was a greater Correspondency between these two Gentlemen, than
+they had with any other Persons; they accounting themselves above the
+rest of the World, believed none so proper and fit for their
+Conversation, as that of each other: so that there was a very particular
+Intimacy between them. Whenever they went abroad, they clubb'd their
+Train, to make one great Show; and were always together, bemoaning each
+other's Fortune, and that from so high a Descent, as one from Monarchs
+by the Mother's side, and the other from Dukes of the Father's Side,
+they were reduc'd by Fate to the Degree of private Gentlemen. They would
+often consult how to manage Affairs most to Advantage, and often _De
+Pais_ would ask Counsel of _Vernole_, how best he should dispose of his
+Daughters, which now were about their ninth Year the eldest, and eighth
+the youngest. _Vernole_ had often seen those two Buds of Beauty, and
+already saw opening in _Atlante's_ Face and Mind (for that was the Name
+of the eldest, and _Charlot_ the youngest) a Glory of Wit and Beauty,
+which could not but one Day display it self, with dazling Lustre, to the
+wondring World.
+
+_Vernole_ was a great Virtuoso, of a Humour nice, delicate, critical and
+opinionative: he had nothing of the _French_ Mein in him, but all the
+Gravity of the Don. His ill-favour'd Person, and his low Estate, put him
+out of Humour with the World; and because that should not upbraid or
+reproach his Follies and Defects, he was sure to be beforehand with
+that, and to be always satirick upon it; and lov'd to live and act
+contrary to the Custom and Usage of all Mankind besides.
+
+He was infinitely delighted to find a Man of his own Humour in _De
+Pais_, or at least a Man that would be persuaded to like his so well, to
+live up to it; and it was no little Joy and Satisfaction to him to find,
+that he kept his Daughters in that Severity, which was wholly agreeable
+to him, and so contrary to the Manner and Fashion of the _French_
+Quality; who allow all Freedoms, which to _Vernole's_ rigid Nature,
+seem'd as so many Steps to Vice, and in his Opinion, the Ruiner of all
+Virtue and Honour in Womankind. _De Pais_ was extremely glad his Conduct
+was so well interpreted, which was no other in him than a proud
+Frugality; who, because they could not appear in so much Gallantry as
+their Quality required, kept 'em retir'd, and unseen to all, but his
+particular Friends, of whom _Vernole_ was the chief.
+
+_Vernole_ never appear'd before _Atlante_ (which was seldom) but he
+assum'd a Gravity and Respect fit to have entertain'd a Maid of Twenty,
+or rather a Matron of much greater Years and Judgment. His Discourses
+were always of Matters of State or Philosophy; and sometimes when _De
+Pais_ would (laughing) say, 'He might as well entertain _Atlante_ with
+_Greek_ and _Hebrew_,' he would reply gravely, 'You are mistaken, Sir,
+I find the Seeds of great and profound Matter in the Soul of this young
+Maid, which ought to be nourish'd now while she is young, and they will
+grow up to very great Perfection: I find _Atlante_ capable of the noble
+Virtues of the Mind, and am infinitely mistaken in my Observations, and
+Art of Physiognomy, if _Atlante_ be not born for greater Things than her
+Fortune does now Promise: She will be very considerable in the World,
+(believe me) and this will arrive to her perfectly from the Force of her
+Charms.' _De Pais_ was extremely overjoy'd to hear such Good prophesied
+of _Atlante_, and from that Time set a sort of an Esteem upon her, which
+he did not on _Charlot_ his younger; whom, by the Persuasions of
+_Vernole_, he resolv'd to put in a Monastery, that what he had might
+descend to _Atlante_: not but he confess'd _Charlot_ had Beauty
+extremely attractive, and a Wit that promised much, when it should be
+cultivated by Years and Experience; and would shew it self with great
+Advantage and Lustre in a Monastery. All this pleased _De Pais_ very
+well, who was easily persuaded, since he had not a Fortune to marry her
+well in the World.
+
+As yet _Vernole_ had never spoke to _Atlante_ of Love, nor did his
+Gravity think it Prudence to discover his Heart to so young a Maid; he
+waited her more sensible Years, when he could hope to have some Return.
+And all he expected from this her tender Age, was by his daily Converse
+with her, and the Presents he made her suitable to her Years, to
+ingratiate himself insensibly into her Friendship and Esteem, since she
+was not yet capable of Love; but even in that he mistook his Aim, for
+every day he grew more and more disagreeable to _Atlante_, and would
+have been her absolute Aversion, had she known she had every Day
+entertained a Lover; but as she grew in Years and Sense, he seemed the
+more despicable in her Eyes as to his Person; yet as she had respect to
+his Parts and Qualities, she paid him all the Complaisance she could,
+and which was due to him, and so must be confess'd. Tho' he had a stiff
+Formality in all he said and did, yet he had Wit and Learning, and was a
+great Philosopher. As much of his Learning as _Atlante_ was capable of
+attaining to, he made her Mistress of, and that was no small Portion;
+for all his Discourse was fine and easily comprehended, his Notions of
+Philosophy fit for Ladies; and he took greater Pains with _Atlante_,
+than any Master would have done with a Scholar: So that it was most
+certain, he added very great Accomplishment to her natural Wit: and the
+more, because she took a great Delight in Philosophy; which very often
+made her impatient of his Coming, especially when she had many Questions
+to ask him concerning it, and she would often receive him with a
+Pleasure in her Face, which he did not fail to interpret to his own
+Advantage, being very apt to flatter himself. Her Sister _Charlot_ would
+often ask her, 'How she could give whole Afternoons to so disagreeable a
+Man. What is it (said she) that charms you so? his tawny Leather-Face,
+his extraordinary high Nose, his wide Mouth and Eye-brows, that hang
+low'ring over his Eyes, his lean Carcase, and his lame and halting
+Hips?' But _Atlante_ would discreetly reply, 'If I must grant all you
+say of Count _Vernole_ to be true, yet he has a Wit and Learning that
+will atone sufficiently for all those Faults you mention: A fine Soul is
+infinitely to be preferr'd to a fine Body; this decays, but that's
+eternal; and Age that ruins one, refines the other.' Tho' possibly
+_Atlante_ thought as ill of the Count as her Sister, yet in Respect to
+him, she would not own it.
+
+_Atlante_ was now arriv'd to her thirteenth Year, when her Beauty, which
+every Day increas'd, became the Discourse of the whole Town, which had
+already gain'd her as many Lovers as had beheld her; for none saw her
+without languishing for her, or at least, but what were in very great
+Admiration of her. Every body talk'd of the young _Atlante_, and all the
+Noblemen, who had Sons (knowing the Smallness of her Fortune, and the
+Lustre of her Beauty) would send them, for fear of their being charm'd
+with her Beauty, either to some other part of the World, or exhorted
+them, by way of Precaution, to keep out of her Sight. Old _Bellyaurd_
+was one of those wise Parents; and timely Prevention, as he thought, of
+_Rinaldo's_ falling in Love with _Atlante_, perhaps was the Occasion of
+his being so: He had before heard of _Atlante_, and of her Beauty, yet
+it had made no Impressions on his Heart; but his Father no sooner forbid
+him Loving, than he felt a new Desire tormenting him, of seeing this
+lovely and dangerous young Person: he wonders at his unaccountable Pain,
+which daily sollicits him within, to go where he may behold this Beauty;
+of whom he frames a thousand Ideas, all such as were most agreeable to
+him; but then upbraids his Fancy for not forming her half so delicate as
+she was; and longs yet more to see her, to know how near she approaches
+to the Picture he has drawn of her in his Mind: and tho' he knew she
+liv'd the next House to him, yet he knew also she was kept within like a
+vow'd _Nun_, or with the Severity of a _Spaniard_. And tho' he had a
+Chamber, which had a jutting Window, that look'd just upon the Door of
+Monsieur _De Pais_, and that he would watch many Hours at a time, in
+hope to see them go out, yet he could never get a Glimpse of her; yet he
+heard she often frequented the Church of _our Lady_. Thither then young
+_Rinaldo_ resolv'd to go, and did so two or three Mornings; in which
+time, to his unspeakable Grief, he saw no Beauty appear that charm'd
+him; and yet he fancy'd that _Atlante_ was there, and that he had seen
+her; that some one of those young Ladies that he saw in the Church was
+she, tho' he had no body to enquire of, and that she was not so fair as
+the World reported; for which he would often sigh, as if he had lost
+some great Expectation. However, he ceased not to frequent this Church,
+and one day saw a young Beauty, who at first glimpse made his Heart leap
+to his Mouth, and fall a trembling again into its wonted Place; for it
+immediately told him, that that young Maid was _Atlante_: she was with
+her Sister _Charlot_, who was very handsome, but not comparable to
+_Atlante_. He fix'd his Eyes upon her as she kneel'd at the Altar; he
+never moved from that charming Face as long as she remain'd there; he
+forgot all Devotion, but what he paid to her; he ador'd her, he burnt
+and languished already for her, and found he must possess _Atlante_ or
+die. Often as he gaz'd upon her, he saw her fair Eyes lifted up towards
+his, where they often met; which she perceiving, would cast hers down
+into her Bosom, or on her Book, and blush as if she had done a Fault.
+_Charlot_ perceiv'd all the Motions of _Rinaldo_, how he folded his
+Arms, how he sigh'd and gaz'd on her Sister; she took notice of his
+Clothes, his Garniture, and every particular of his Dress, as young
+Girls use to do; and seeing him so very handsome, and so much better
+dress'd than all the young Cavaliers that were in the Church, she was
+very much pleas'd with him; and could not forbear saying, in a low
+Voice, to _Atlante_, 'Look, look my Sister, what a pretty Monsieur
+yonder is! see how fine his Face is, how delicate his Hair, how gallant
+his Dress! and do but look how he gazes on you!' This would make
+_Atlante_ blush anew, who durst not raise her Eyes for fear she should
+encounter his. While he had the Pleasure to imagine they were talking of
+him, and he saw in the pretty Face of _Charlot_, that what she said was
+not to his Disadvantage, and by the Blushes of _Atlante_, that she was
+not displeas'd with what was spoken to her; he perceiv'd the young one
+importunate with her; and _Atlante_ jogging her with her Elbow, as much
+as to say, Hold your Peace: all this he made a kind Interpretation of,
+and was transported with Joy at the good Omens. He was willing to
+flatter his new Flame, and to compliment his young Desire with a little
+Hope; but the divine Ceremony ceasing, _Atlante_ left the Church, and it
+being very fair Weather, she walk'd home. _Rinaldo_, who saw her going,
+felt all the Agonies of a Lover, who parts with all that can make him
+happy; and seeing only _Atlante_ attended with her Sister, and a Footman
+following with their Books, he was a thousand times about to speak to
+'em; but he no sooner advanc'd a step or two towards 'em to that purpose
+(for he followed them) but his Heart fail'd, and a certain Awe and
+Reverence, or rather the Fears and Tremblings of a Lover, prevented him:
+but when he consider'd, that possibly he might never have so favourable
+an Opportunity again, he resolv'd a-new, and called up so much Courage
+to his Heart, as to speak to _Atlante_; but before he did so, _Charlot_
+looking behind her, saw _Rinaldo_ very near to 'em, and cry'd out with a
+Voice of Joy, 'Oh! Sister, Sister! look where the handsome _Monsieur_
+is, just behind us! sure he is some-body of Quality, for see he has two
+Footmen that follow him, in just such Liveries, and so rich as those of
+our Neighbour _Monsieur Bellyaurd_.' At this _Atlante_ could not
+forbear, but before she was aware of it, turn'd her Head, and look'd on
+_Rinaldo_; which encourag'd him to advance, and putting off his Hat,
+which he clapt under his Arm, with a low Bow, said, 'Ladies, you are
+slenderly attended, and so many Accidents arrive to the Fair in the rude
+Streets, that I humbly implore you will permit me, whose Duty it is as a
+Neighbour, to wait on you to your Door.' 'Sir, (said _Atlante_ blushing)
+we fear no Insolence, and need no Protector; or if we did, we should not
+be so rude to take you out of your way, to serve us.' 'Madam, (said he)
+my way lies yours. I live at the next Door, and am Son to _Bellyaurd_,
+your Neighbour. But, Madam, (added he) if I were to go all my Life out
+of the way, to do you Service, I should take it for the greatest
+Happiness that could arrive to me; but, Madam, sure a Man can never be
+out of his Way, who has the Honour of so charming Company.' _Atlante_
+made no reply to this, but blush'd and bow'd: But _Charlot_ said, 'Nay,
+Sir, if you are our Neighbour, we will give you leave to conduct us
+home; but pray, Sir, how came you to know we are your Neighbours? for we
+never saw you before, to our knowledge.' 'My pretty Miss, (reply'd
+_Rinaldo_) I knew it from that transcendent Beauty that appear'd in your
+Faces, and fine Shapes; for I have heard, there was no Beauty in the
+World like that of _Atlante's_; and I no sooner saw her, but my Heart
+told me it was she.' 'Heart! (said _Charlot_ laughing) why, do Hearts
+use to speak?' 'The most intelligible of any thing, (_Rinaldo_ reply'd)
+when 'tis tenderly touch'd, when 'tis charm'd and transported.' At these
+Words he sigh'd, and _Atlante_, to his extreme Satisfaction, blush'd.
+'Touch'd, charm'd, and transported, (said _Charlot_) what's that? And
+how do you do to have it be all these things? For I would give any thing
+in the World to have my Heart speak.' 'Oh! (said _Rinaldo_) your Heart
+is too young, it is not yet arrived to the Years of Speaking; about
+thirteen or fourteen, it may possibly be saying a thousand soft things
+to you; but it must be first inspir'd by some noble Object, whose Idea
+it must retain.' 'What (reply'd the pretty Prattler) I'll warrant I must
+be in Love?' 'Yes, (said _Rinaldo_) most passionately, or you will have
+but little Conversation with your Heart.' 'Oh! (reply'd she) I am afraid
+the Pleasure of such a Conversation, will not make me amends for the
+Pain that Love will give me.' 'That (said _Rinaldo_) is according as the
+Object is kind, and as you hope; if he love, and you hope, you will have
+double Pleasure: And in this, how great an Advantage have fair Ladies
+above us Men! 'Tis always impossible for you to love in vain, you have
+your Choice of a thousand Hearts, which you have subdu'd, and may not
+only chuse your Slaves, but be assur'd of 'em; without speaking, you are
+belov'd, it needs not cost you a Sigh or a Tear: But unhappy Man is
+often destin'd to give his Heart, where it is not regarded, to sigh, to
+weep, and languish, without any hope of Pity.' 'You speak so feelingly,
+Sir, (said _Charlot_) that I am afraid this is your Case.' 'Yes, Madam,
+(reply'd _Rinaldo_, sighing) I am that unhappy Man.' 'Indeed it is pity
+(said she.) Pray, how long have you been so?' 'Ever since I heard of the
+charming _Atlante_, (reply'd he, sighing again) I ador'd her Character;
+but now I have seen her, I die for her.' 'For me, Sir! (said _Atlante_,
+who had not yet spoke) this is the common Compliment of all the young
+Men, who pretend to be Lovers; and if one should pity all those Sighers,
+we should have but very little left for our selves.' 'I believe (said
+_Rinaldo_) there are none that tell you so, who do not mean as they say:
+Yet among all those Adorers, and those who say they will die for you,
+you will find none will be so good as their Words but _Rinaldo_.'
+'Perhaps (said _Atlante_) of all those who tell me of Dying, there are
+none that tell me of it with so little Reason as _Rinaldo_, if that be
+your Name, Sir.' 'Madam, it is, (said he) and who am transported with an
+unspeakable Joy, to hear those last Words from your fair Mouth: and let
+me, Oh lovely _Atlante!_ assure you, that what I have said, are not
+Words of course, but proceed from a Heart that has vow'd it self
+eternally yours, even before I had the Happiness to behold this divine
+Person; but now that my Eyes have made good all my Heart before
+imagin'd, and did but hope, I swear, I will die a thousand Deaths,
+rather than violate what I have said to you; that I adore you; that my
+Soul and all my Faculties, are charm'd with your Beauty and Innocence,
+and that my Life and Fortune, not inconsiderable, shall be laid at your
+Feet.' This he spoke with a Fervency of Passion, that left her no Doubt
+of what he had said; yet she blush'd for Shame, and was a little angry
+at her self, for suffering him to say so much to her, the very first
+time she saw him, and accused her self for giving him any Encouragement:
+And in this Confusion she replied, 'Sir, you have said too much to be
+believ'd; and I cannot imagine so short an Acquaintance can make so
+considerable an Impression; of which Confession I accuse my self much
+more than you, in that I did not only hearken to what you said, without
+forbidding you to entertain me at that rate, but for unheedily speaking
+something, that has encourag'd this Boldness; for so I must call it, in
+a Man so great a Stranger to me.' 'Madam (said he) if I have offended by
+the Suddenness of my presumptuous Discovery, I beseech you to consider
+my Reasons for it, the few Opportunities I am like to have, and the
+Impossibility of waiting on you, both from the Severity of your Father
+and mine; who, ere I saw you, warn'd me of my Fate, as if he foresaw I
+should fall in love, as soon as I should chance to see you; and for that
+Reason has kept me closer to my Studies, than hitherto I have been. And
+from that time I began to feel a Flame, which was kindled by Report
+alone, and the Description my Father gave of your wondrous and dangerous
+Beauty: Therefore, Madam, I have not suddenly told you of my Passion.
+I have been long your Lover, and have long languish'd without telling of
+my Pain; and you ought to pardon it now, since it is done with all the
+Respect and religious Awe, that 'tis possible for a Heart to deliver and
+unload it self in; therefore, Madam, if you have by chance uttered any
+thing, that I have taken Advantage or Hope from, I assure you 'tis so
+small, that you have no reason to repent it; but rather, if you would
+have me live, send me not from you, without a Confirmation of that
+little Hope. See, Madam, (said he, more earnestly and trembling) see we
+are almost arriv'd at our Homes, send me not to mine in a Despair that I
+cannot support with Life; but tell me, I shall be bless'd with your
+Sight, sometimes in your Balcony, which is very near to a jetting Window
+in our House, from whence I have sent many a longing Look towards yours,
+in hope to have seen my Soul's Tormentor.' 'I shall be very unwilling
+(said she) to enter into an Intrigue of Love or Friendship with a Man,
+whose Parents will be averse to my Happiness, and possibly mine as
+refractory, tho' they cannot but know such an Alliance would be very
+considerable, my Fortune not being suitable to yours: I tell you this,
+that you may withdraw in time from an Engagement, in which I find there
+will be a great many Obstacles.' 'Oh! Madam, (reply'd _Rinaldo_,
+sighing) if my Person be not disagreeable to you, you will have no
+occasion to fear the rest; 'tis that I dread, and that which is all my
+Fear.' He, sighing, beheld her with a languishing Look, that told her,
+he expected her Answer; when she reply'd, 'Sir, if that will be
+Satisfaction enough for you at this time, I do assure you, I have no
+Aversion for your Person, in which I find more to be valu'd, than in any
+I have yet seen; and if what you say be real, and proceed from a Heart
+truly affected, I find, in spite of me, you will oblige me to give you
+Hope.'
+
+They were come so near their own Houses, that he had not time to return
+her any Answer; but with a low Bow he acknowledg'd her Bounty, and
+express'd the Joy her last Words had given him, by a Look that made her
+understand he was charm'd and pleas'd; and she bowing to him with an Air
+of Satisfaction in her Face, he was well assur'd, there was nothing to
+be seen so lovely as she then appear'd, and left her to go into her own
+House: but till she was out of sight, he had not power to stir, and then
+sighing, retired to his own Apartment, to think over all that had past
+between them. He found nothing but what gave him a thousand Joys, in all
+she had said; and he blest this happy Day, and wondred how his Stars
+came so kind, to make him in one hour at once see _Atlante_, and have
+the happiness to know from her Mouth, that he was not disagreeable to
+her: Yet with this Satisfaction, he had a thousand Thoughts mix'd which
+were tormenting, and those were the Fear of their Parents; he foresaw
+from what his Father had said to him already, that it would be difficult
+to draw him to a Consent of his Marriage with _Atlante_. These Joys and
+Fears were his Companions all the Night, in which he took but little
+Rest. Nor was _Atlante_ without her Inquietudes: She found _Rinaldo_
+more in her Thoughts than she wish'd, and a sudden Change of Humour,
+that made her know something was the matter with her more than usual;
+she calls to mind _Rinaldo's_ speaking of the Conversation with his
+Heart, and found hers would be tattling to her, if she would give way to
+it; and yet the more she strove to avoid it, the more it importun'd her,
+and in spight of all her Resistance, would tell her, that _Rinaldo_ had
+a thousand Charms: It tells her, that he loves and adores her, and that
+she would be the most cruel of her Sex, should she not be sensible of
+his Passion. She finds a thousand Graces in his Person and Conversation,
+and as many Advantages in his Fortune, which was one of the most
+considerable in all those Parts; for his Estate exceeded that of the
+most Noble Men in _Orleans_, and she imagines she should be the most
+fortunate of all Womankind in such a Match. With these Thoughts she
+employ'd all the Hours of the Night; so that she lay so long in Bed the
+next Day, that Count _Vernole_, who had invited himself to Dinner, came
+before she had quitted her Chamber, and she was forc'd to say, she had
+not been well. He had brought her a very fine Book, newly come out, of
+delicate Philosophy, fit for the Study of Ladies. But he appear'd so
+disagreeable to that Heart, wholly taken up with a new and fine Object,
+that she could now hardly pay him that Civility she was wont to do;
+while on the other side that little State and Pride _Atlante_ assum'd,
+made her appear the more charming to him: so that if _Atlante_ had no
+mind to begin a new Lesson of Philosophy, while she fancied her Thoughts
+were much better employ'd, the Count every moment expressing his
+Tenderness and Passion, had as little an Inclination to instruct her, as
+she had to be instructed: Love had taught her a new Lesson, and he would
+fain teach her a new Lesson of Love, but fears it will be a diminishing
+his Gravity and Grandeur, to open the Secrets of his Heart to so young a
+Maid; he therefore thinks it more agreeable to his Quality and Years,
+being about Forty, to use her Father's Authority in this Affair, and
+that it was sufficient for him to declare himself to Monsieur _De Pais_,
+who he knew would be proud of the Honour he did him. Some time past,
+before he could be persuaded even to declare himself to her Father: he
+fancies the little Coldness and Pride he saw in _Atlante's_ Face, which
+was not usual, proceeded from some Discovery of Passion, which his Eyes
+had made, or now and then a Sigh, that unawares broke forth; and accuses
+himself of a Levity below his Quality, and the Dignity of his Wit and
+Gravity; and therefore assumes a more rigid and formal Behaviour than he
+was wont, which rendred him yet more disagreeable than before; and 'twas
+with greater Pain than ever, she gave him that Respect which was due to
+his Quality.
+
+_Rinaldo_, after a restless Night, was up very early in the Morning; and
+tho' he was not certain of seeing his adorable _Atlante_, he dress'd
+himself with all that Care, as if he had been to have waited on her, and
+got himself into the Window, that overlook'd Monsieur _De Pais's_
+Balcony, where he had not remain'd long, before he saw the pretty
+_Charlot_ come into it, not with any design of seeing _Rinaldo_, but to
+look and gaze about her a little. _Rinaldo_ saw her, and made her a very
+low Reverence, and found some disorder'd Joy on the sight of even
+_Charlot_, since she was Sister to _Atlante_. He call'd to her, (for the
+Window was so near her, he could easily be heard by her) and told her,
+'He was infinitely indebted to her Bounty, for giving him an Opportunity
+yesterday of falling on that Discourse, which had made him the happiest
+Man in the World': He said, 'If she had not by her agreeable
+Conversation encourag'd him, and drawn him from one Word to another, he
+should never have had the Confidence to have told _Atlante_, how much he
+ador'd her.' 'I am very glad, (replyed _Charlot_) that I was the
+Occasion of the Beginning of an Amour, which was displeasing to neither
+one nor the other; for I assure you for your Comfort, my Sister nothing
+but thinks on you: We lie together, and you have taught her already to
+sigh so, that I could not sleep for her.' At this his Face was cover'd
+over with a rising Joy, which his Heart could not contain: And after
+some Discourse, in which this innocent Girl discovered more than
+_Atlante_ wish'd she should, he besought her to become his Advocate; and
+since she had no Brother, to give him leave to assume that Honour, and
+call her Sister. Thus, by degrees, he flatter'd her into a Consent of
+carrying a Letter from him to _Atlante_; which she, who believ'd all as
+innocent as her self, and being not forbid to do so, immediately
+consented to; when he took his Pen and Ink, that stood in the Window,
+with Paper, and wrote _Atlante_ this following Letter:
+
+  _RINALDO_ to _ATLANTE_.
+
+  _If my Fate be so severe, as to deny me the Happiness of sighing out
+  my Pain and Passion daily at your Feet, if there be any Faith in the
+  Hope you were pleased to give me (as 'twere a Sin to doubt) Oh
+  charming +Atlante+! suffer me not to languish, both without
+  beholding you, and without the Blessing of now and then a Billet, in
+  answer to those that shall daily assure you of my eternal Faith and
+  Vows; 'tis all I ask, till Fortune, and our Affairs, shall allow me
+  the unspeakable Satisfaction of claiming you: yet if your Charity
+  can sometimes afford me a sight of you, either from your Balcony in
+  the Evening, or at a Church in the Morning, it would save me from
+  that Despair and Torment, which must possess a Heart so unassur'd,
+  as that of_
+
+  Your Eternal Adorer,
+  _Rin. Bellyaurd_.
+
+He having writ and seal'd this, toss'd it into the Balcony to _Charlot_,
+having first look'd about to see if none perceiv'd them. She put it in
+her Bosom, and ran in to her Sister, whom by chance she found alone;
+_Vernole_ having taken _De Pais_ into the Garden, to discourse him
+concerning the sending _Charlot_ to the Monastery, which Work he desir'd
+to see perform'd, before he declar'd his Intentions to _Atlante_: for
+among all his other good Qualities, he was very avaricious; and as fair
+as _Atlante_ was, he thought she would be much fairer with the Addition
+of _Charlot's_ Portion. This Affair of his with Monsieur _De Pais_, gave
+_Charlot_ an opportunity of delivering her Letter to her Sister; who no
+sooner drew it from her Bosom, but _Atlante's_ Face was covered over
+with Blushes: For she imagin'd from whence it came, and had a secret Joy
+in that Imagination, tho' she thought she must put on the Severity and
+Niceness of a Virgin, who would not be thought to have surrendered her
+Heart with so small an Assault, and the first too. So she demanded from
+whence _Charlot_ had that Letter? Who replyed with Joy, 'From the fine
+young Gentleman, our Neighbour.' At which _Atlante_ assum'd all the
+Gravity she could, to chide her Sister; who replied, 'Well, Sister, had
+you this day seen him, you would not have been angry to have receiv'd a
+Letter from him; he look'd so handsome, and was so richly dress'd, ten
+times finer than he was yesterday; and I promis'd him you should read
+it: therefore, pray let me keep my Word with him; and not only so, but
+carry him an Answer.' 'Well (said _Atlante_) to save your Credit with
+Monsieur _Rinaldo_, I will read it': Which she did, and finish'd with a
+Sigh. While she was reading, _Charlot_ ran into the Garden, to see if
+they were not likely to be surpriz'd; and finding the Count and her
+Father set in an Arbour, in deep Discourse, she brought Pen, Ink, and
+Paper to her Sister, and told her, she might write without the Fear of
+being disturbed: and urged her so long to what was enough her
+Inclination, that she at last obtained this Answer:
+
+  _ATLANTE_ to _RINALDO_.
+
+  _+Charlot+, your little importunate Advocate, has at last subdued me
+  to a Consent of returning you This. She has put me on an Affair with
+  which I am wholly unacquainted; and you ought to take this very
+  kindly from me, since it is the very first time I ever writ to one
+  of your Sex, tho' perhaps I might with less Danger have done it to
+  any other Man. I tremble while I write, since I dread a
+  Correspondence of this Nature, which may insensibly draw us into an
+  Inconvenience, and engage me beyond the Limits of that Nicety I
+  ought to preserve: For this Way we venture to say a thousand little
+  kind Things, which in Conversation we dare not do: for now none can
+  see us blush. I am sensible I shall this Way put my self too soon
+  into your Power; and tho' you have abundance of Merit, I ought to be
+  asham'd of confessing, I am but too sensible of it:--But hold--I
+  shall discover for your Repose (which I would preserve) too much of
+  the Heart of_
+
+  Atlante.
+
+She gave this Letter to _Charlot_; who immediately ran into the Balcony
+with it, where she still found _Rinaldo_ in a melancholy Posture,
+leaning his Head on his Hand: She shewed him the Letter, but was afraid
+to toss it to him, for fear it might fall to the Ground; so he ran and
+fetched a long Cane, which he cleft at one End, and held it while she
+put the Letter into the Cleft, and staid not to hear what he said to it.
+But never was Man so transported with Joy, as he was at the reading of
+this Letter; it gives him new Wounds; for to the Generous, nothing
+obliges Love so much as Love: tho' it is now too much the Nature of that
+inconstant Sex, to cease to love as soon as they are sure of the
+Conquest. But it was far different with our Cavalier; he was the more
+inflamed, by imagining he had made some Impressions on the Heart of
+_Atlante_, and kindled some Sparks there, that in time might increase to
+something more; so that he now resolves to die hers: and considering all
+the Obstacles that may possibly hinder his Happiness, he found none but
+his Father's Obstinacy, perhaps occasioned by the Meanness of
+_Atlante's_ Fortune. To this he urged again, that he was his only Son,
+and a Son whom he loved equal to his own Life; and that certainly, as
+soon as he should behold him dying for _Atlante_, which if he were
+forc'd to quit her he must be, he then believed the Tenderness of so
+fond a Parent would break forth into Pity, and plead within for his
+Consent. These were the Thoughts that flatter'd this young Lover all the
+Day; and whether he were riding the Great Horse, or at his Study of
+Philosophy, or Mathematicks, Singing, Dancing, or whatsoever other
+Exercise his Tutors ordered, his Thoughts were continually on _Atlante_.
+And now he profited no more, whatever he seem'd to do: every Day he
+fail'd not to write to her by the Hand of the kind _Charlot_; who, young
+as she was, had conceiv'd a great Friendship for _Rinaldo_, and fail'd
+not to fetch her Letters, and bring him Answers, such as he wish'd to
+receive. But all this did not satisfy our impatient Lover; Absence
+kill'd, and he was no longer able to support himself, without a sight of
+this adorable Maid; he therefore implores, she will give him that
+Satisfaction: And she at last grants it, with a better Will than he
+imagin'd. The next Day was the appointed Time, when she would, under
+Pretence of going to Church, give him an Assignation: And because all
+publick Places were dangerous, and might make a great Noise, and they
+had no private Place to trust to, _Rinaldo_, under Pretence of going up
+the River in his Pleasure-Boat, which he often did, sent to have it made
+ready by the next Day at Ten of the Clock. This was accordingly done,
+and he gave _Atlante_ Notice of his Design of going an Hour or two on
+the River in his Boat, which lay near to such a Place, not far from the
+Church. She and _Charlot_ came thither: and because they durst not come
+out without a Footman or two, they taking one, sent him with a
+_How-do-ye_ to some young Ladies, and told him, he should find them at
+Church: So getting rid of their Spy, they hastened to the River-side,
+and found a Boat and _Rinaldo_, waiting to carry them on board his
+little Vessel, which was richly adorn'd, and a very handsome Collation
+ready for them, of cold Meats, Sallads and Sweetmeats.
+
+As soon as they were come into the Pleasure-Boat, unseen of any, he
+kneel'd at the Feet of _Atlante_, and there utter'd so many passionate
+and tender Things to her, with a Voice so trembling and soft, with Eyes
+so languishing, and a Fervency and a Fire so sincere, that her young
+Heart, wholly uncapable of Artifice, could no longer resist such
+Language, and such Looks of Love; she grows tender, and he perceives it
+in her fine Eyes, who could not dissemble; he reads her Heart in her
+Looks, and found it yielding apace; and therefore assaults it anew, with
+fresh Forces of Sighs and Tears: He implores she would assure him of her
+Heart, which she could no other way do, than by yielding to marry him:
+He would carry her to the next Village, there consummate that Happiness,
+without which he was able to live no longer; for he had a thousand
+Fears, that some other Lover was, or would suddenly be provided for her;
+and therefore he would make sure of her while he had this Opportunity:
+and to that End, he answer'd all the Objections she could make to the
+contrary. But ever, when he named Marriage, she trembled, with fear of
+doing something that she fancy'd she ought not to do without the Consent
+of her Father. She was sensible of the Advantage, but had been so us'd
+to a strict Obedience, that she could not without Horror think of
+violating it; and therefore besought him, as he valued her Repose, not
+to urge her to that: And told him further, That if he fear'd any Rival,
+she would give him what other Assurance and Satisfaction he pleas'd, but
+that of Marriage; which she could not consent to, till she knew such an
+Alliance would not be fatal to him: for she fear'd, as passionately as
+he lov'd her, when he should find she had occasion'd him the Loss of his
+Fortune, or his Father's Affection, he would grow to hate her. Tho' he
+answer'd to this all that a fond Lover could urge, yet she was resolv'd,
+and he forc'd to content himself with obliging her by his Prayers and
+Protestations, his Sighs and Tears, to a Contract, which they solemnly
+made each other, vowing on either Side, they would never marry any
+other. This being solemnly concluded, he assum'd a Look more gay and
+contented than before: He presented her a very rich Ring, which she
+durst not put on her Finger, but hid it in her Bosom. And beholding each
+other now as Man and Wife, she suffer'd him all the decent Freedoms he
+could wish to take; so that the Hours of this Voyage seem'd the most
+soft and charming of his Life: and doubtless they were so; every Touch
+of _Atlante_ transported him, every Look pierced his Soul, and he was
+all Raptures of Joy, when he consider'd this charming lovely Maid was
+his own.
+
+_Charlot_ all this while was gazing above-deck, admiring the Motion of
+the little Vessel, and how easily the Wind and Tide bore her up the
+River. She had never been in any thing of this kind before, and was very
+well pleas'd and entertain'd, when _Rinaldo_ call'd her down to eat;
+where they enjoy'd themselves, as well as was possible: and _Charlot_
+was wondring to see such a Content in their Eyes.
+
+But now they thought it was high time for them to return; they fancy the
+Footman missing them at Church, would go home and alarm their Father,
+and the Knight of the Ill-favour'd Countenance, as _Charlot_ call'd
+Count _Vernole_, whose Severity put their Father on a greater
+Restriction of them, than naturally he would do of himself. At the Name
+of this Count, _Rinaldo_ chang'd Colour, fearing he might be some Rival;
+and ask'd _Atlante_, if this _Vernole_ was a-kin to her? She answer'd
+no; but was a very great Friend to her Father, and one who from their
+Infancy had had a particular Concern for their Breeding, and was her
+Master for Philosophy. 'Ah! (reply'd _Rinaldo_, sighing) this Man's
+Concern must proceed from something more than Friendship for her
+Father'; and therefore conjur'd her to tell him, whether he was not a
+Lover: 'A Lover! (reply'd _Atlante_) I assure you, he is a perfect
+Antidote against that Passion': And tho' she suffer'd his ugly Presence
+now, she should loathe and hate him, should he but name Love to her.
+
+She said, she believed she need not fear any such Persecution, since he
+was a Man who was not at all amorous; that he had too much of the Satire
+in his Humour, to harbour any Softness there: and Nature had form'd his
+Body to his Mind, wholly unfit for Love. And that he might set his Heart
+absolutely at rest, she assur'd him her Father had never yet propos'd
+any Marriage to her, tho' many advantageous ones were offer'd him every
+Day.
+
+The Sails being turned to carry them back from whence they came; after
+having discoursed of a thousand Things, and all of Love, and Contrivance
+to carry on their mutual Design, they with Sighs parted; _Rinaldo_
+staying behind in the Pleasure-Boat, and they going a-shore in the
+Wherry that attended: after which he cast many an amorous and sad Look,
+and perhaps was answer'd by those of _Atlante_.
+
+It was past Church-time two or three Hours, when they arrived at home,
+wholly unprepar'd with an Excuse, so absolutely was _Atlante's_ Soul
+possest with softer Business. The first Person that they met was the
+Footman, who open'd the Door, and began to cry out how long he had
+waited in the Church, and how in vain; without giving them time to
+reply. _De Pais_ came towards 'em, and with a frowning Look demanded
+where they had been? _Atlante_, who was not accustom'd to Excuses and
+Untruth, was a while at a stand; when _Charlot_ with a Voice of Joy
+cry'd out, 'Oh Sir! we have been a-board of a fine little Ship': At this
+_Atlante_ blush'd, fearing she would tell the Truth. But she proceeded
+on, and said, that they had not been above a Quarter of an Hour at
+Church, when the Lady ----, with some other Ladies and Cavaliers, were
+going out of the Church, and that spying them, they would needs have 'em
+go with 'em: My Sister, Sir, continu'd she, was very loth to go, for
+fear you should be angry; but my Lady ---- was so importunate with her
+on one side, and I on the other, because I never saw a little Ship in my
+Life, that at last we prevail'd with her: therefore, good Sir, be not
+angry. He promised them he was not. And when they came in, they found
+Count _Vernole_, who had been inspiring _De Pais_ with Severity, and
+counselled him to chide the young Ladies, for being too long absent,
+under Pretence of going to their Devotion. Nor was it enough for him to
+set the Father on, but himself with a Gravity, where Concern and Malice
+were both apparent, reproached _Atlante_ with Levity; and told her, He
+believed she had some other Motive than the Invitation of a Lady, to go
+on Ship-board; and that she had too many Lovers, not to make them doubt
+that this was a design'd thing; and that she had heard Love from some
+one, for whom it was design'd. To this she made but a short Reply, That
+if it was so, she had no reason to conceal it, since she had Sense
+enough to look after herself; and if any body had made love to her, he
+might be assur'd, it was some one whose Quality and Merit deserved to be
+heard: and with a Look of Scorn, she passed on to another Room, and left
+him silently raging within with Jealousy: Which, if before she tormented
+him, this Declaration increas'd it to a pitch not to be conceal'd. And
+this Day he said so much to the Father, that he resolv'd forthwith to
+send _Charlot_ to a Nunnery: and accordingly the next day he bid her
+prepare to go. _Charlot_, who was not yet arrived to the Years of
+Distinction, did not much regret it; and having no Trouble but leaving
+her Sister, she prepared to go to a Nunnery, not many Streets from that
+where she dwelt. The Lady Abbess was her Father's Kinswoman, and had
+treated her very well, as often as she came to visit her: so that with
+Satisfaction enough, she was condemned to a Monastick Life, and was now
+going for her Probation-Year. _Atlante_ was troubled at her Departure,
+because she had no body to bring and to carry Letters between _Rinaldo_
+and she: however, she took her leave of her, and promis'd to come and
+see her as often as she should be permitted to go abroad; for she fear'd
+now some Constraint extraordinary would be put upon her: and so it
+happened.
+
+_Atlante's_ Chamber was that to which the Balcony belong'd; and tho' she
+durst not appear there in the Daytime, she could in the Night, and that
+way give her Lover as many Hours of Conversation as she pleased, without
+being perceiv'd: But how to give _Rinaldo_ notice of this, she could not
+tell; who not knowing _Charlot_ was gone to a Monastery, waited many
+days at his Window to see her: at last, they neither of them knowing who
+to trust with any Message, one day, when he was, as usual upon his
+watch, he saw _Atlante_ step into the Balcony, who having a Letter, in
+which she had put a piece of Lead, she tost it into his Window, whose
+Casement was open, and run in again unperceived by any but himself. The
+Paper contained only this:
+
+  _My Chamber is that which looks into the Balcony; from whence, tho'
+  I cannot converse with you in the Day, I can at Night, when I am
+  retired to go to bed: therefore be at your Window. +Farewel+._
+
+There needed no more to make him a diligent Watcher: and accordingly she
+was no sooner retired to her Chamber, but she would come into the
+Balcony, where she fail'd not to see him attending at his Window. This
+happy Contrivance was thus carry'd on for many Nights, where they
+entertain'd one another with all the Endearment that two Hearts could
+dictate, who were perfectly united and assur'd of each other; and this
+pleasing Conversation would often last till Day appear'd, and forced
+them to part.
+
+But old _Bellyaurd_ perceiving his Son frequent that Chamber more than
+usual, fancy'd something extraordinary must be the Cause of it; and one
+night asking for his Son, his Valet told him, he was gone into the great
+Chamber, so this was called: _Bellyaurd_ asked the Valet what he did
+there; he told him he could not tell; for often he had lighted him
+thither, and that his Master would take the Candle from him at the
+Chamber-Door, and suffer him to go no farther. Tho' the old Gentleman
+could not imagine what Affairs he could have alone every Night in that
+Chamber, he had a Curiosity to see: and one unlucky Night, putting off
+his Shoes, he came to the Door of the Chamber, which was open; he
+enter'd softly, and saw the Candle set in the Chimney, and his Son at a
+great open Bay-Window: he stopt awhile to wait when he would turn, but
+finding him unmoveable, he advanced something farther, and at last heard
+the soft Dialogue of Love between him and _Atlante_, whom he knew to be
+she, by his often calling her by her Name in their Discourse. He heard
+enough to confirm him how Matters went; and unseen as he came, he
+returned, full of Indignation, and thought how to prevent so great an
+Evil, as this Passion of his Son might produce: at first he thought to
+round him severely in the Ear about it, and upbraid him for doing the
+only thing he had thought fit to forbid him; but then he thought that
+would but terrify him for awhile, and he would return again, where he
+had so great an Inclination, if he were near her; he therefore resolves
+to send him to _Paris_, that by Absence he might forget the young Beauty
+that had charm'd his Youth. Therefore, without letting _Rinaldo_ know
+the Reason, and without taking Notice that he knew any thing of his
+Amour, he came to him one day, and told him, all the Masters he had for
+the improving him in noble Sciences were very dull, or very remiss: and
+that he resolved he should go for a Year or two to the Academy at
+_Paris_. To this the Son made a thousand Evasions; but the Father was
+positive, and not to be persuaded by all his Reasons: And finding he
+should absolutely displease him if he refus'd to go, and not daring to
+tell him the dear Cause of his Desire to remain at _Orleans_, he
+therefore, with a breaking Heart, consents to go, nay, resolves it, tho'
+it should be his Death. But alas! he considers that this Parting will
+not only prove the greatest Torment upon Earth to him, but that
+_Atlante_ will share in his Misfortunes also: This Thought gives him a
+double Torment, and yet he finds no Way to evade it.
+
+The Night that finished this fatal Day, he goes again to his wonted
+Station, the Window; where he had not sighed very long, but he saw
+_Atlante_ enter the Balcony: He was not able a great while to speak to
+her, or to utter one Word. The Night was light enough to see him at the
+wonted Place; and she admires at his Silence, and demands the Reason in
+such obliging Terms as adds to his Grief; and he, with a deep Sigh,
+reply'd, 'Urge me not, my fair _Atlante_, to speak, lest by obeying you
+I give you more cause of Grief than my Silence is capable of doing': and
+then sighing again, he held his peace, and gave her leave to ask the
+Cause of these last Words. But when he made no Reply but by sighing, she
+imagin'd it much worse than indeed it was; and with a trembling and
+fainting Voice, she cried, 'Oh! _Rinaldo_, give me leave to divine that
+cruel News you are so unwilling to tell me: It is so,' added she, 'you
+are destin'd to some more fortunate Maid than _Atlante_.' At this Tears
+stopped her Speech, and she could utter no more. 'No, my dearest Charmer
+(reply'd _Rinaldo_, elevating his Voice) if that were all, you should
+see with what Fortitude I would die, rather than obey any such Commands.
+I am vow'd yours to the last Moment of my Life; and will be yours in
+spite of all the Opposition in the World: that Cruelty I could evade,
+but cannot this that threatens me.' 'Ah! (cried _Atlante_) let Fate do
+her worst, so she still continue _Rinaldo_ mine, and keep that Faith he
+hath sworn to me entire: What can she do beside, that can afflict me?'
+'She can separate me (cried he) for some time from _Atlante_.' 'Oh!
+(reply'd she) all Misfortunes fall so below that which I first imagin'd,
+that methinks I do not resent this, as I should otherwise have done: but
+I know, when I have a little more consider'd it, I shall even die with
+the Grief of it; Absence being so great an Enemy to Love, and making us
+soon forget the Object belov'd: This, tho' I never experienc'd, I have
+heard, and fear it may be my Fate.' He then convinc'd her Fears with a
+thousand new Vows, and a thousand Imprecations of Constancy. She then
+asked him, 'If their Loves were discover'd, that he was with such haste
+to depart?' He told her, 'Nothing of that was the Cause; and he could
+almost wish it were discover'd, since he could resolutely then refuse to
+go: but it was only to cultivate his Mind more effectually than he could
+do here; 'twas the Care of his Father to accomplish him the more; and
+therefore he could not contradict it. But (said he) I am not sent where
+Seas shall part us, nor vast Distances of Earth, but to _Paris_, from
+whence he might come in two Days to see her again; and that he would
+expect from that Balcony, that had given him so many happy Moments, many
+more when he should come to see her.' He besought her to send him away
+with all the Satisfaction she could, which she could no otherwise do,
+than by giving him new Assurances that she would never give away that
+Right he had in her to any other Lover: She vows this with innumerable
+Tears; and is almost angry with him for questioning her Faith. He tells
+her he has but one Night more to stay, and his Grief would be
+unspeakable, if he should not be able to take a better leave of her,
+than at a Window; and that, if she would give him leave, he would by a
+Rope or two, tied together, so as it may serve for Steps, ascend her
+Balcony; he not having time to provide a Ladder of Ropes. She tells him
+she has so great a Confidence in his Virtue and Love, that she will
+refuse him nothing, tho' it would be a very bold Venture for a Maid, to
+trust her self with a passionate young Man, in silence of Night: and
+tho' she did not extort a Vow from him to secure her, she expected he
+would have a care of her Honour. He swore to her, his Love was too
+religious for so base an Attempt. There needed not many Vows to confirm
+her Faith; and it was agreed on between them, that he should come the
+next Night into her Chamber.
+
+It happen'd that Night, as it often did, that Count _Vernole_ lay with
+Monsieur _De Pais_, which was in a Ground-Room, just under that of
+_Atlante's_. As soon as she knew all were in bed, she gave the word to
+_Rinaldo_, who was attending with the Impatience of a passionate Lover
+below, under the Window; and who no sooner heard the Balcony open, but
+he ascended with some difficulty, and enter'd the Chamber, where he
+found _Atlante_ trembling with Joy and Fear: He throws himself at her
+Feet, as unable to speak as she; who nothing but blushed and bent down
+her Eyes, hardly daring to glance them towards the dear Object of her
+Desires, the Lord of all her Vows: She was asham'd to see a Man in her
+Chamber, where yet none had ever been alone, and by Night too. He saw
+her Fear, and felt her trembling; and after a thousand Sighs of Love had
+made way for Speech, he besought her to fear nothing from him, for his
+Flame was too sacred, and his Passion too holy to offer any thing but
+what Honour with Love might afford him. At last he brought her to some
+Courage, and the Roses of her fair Cheeks assum'd their wonted Colour,
+not blushing too red, nor languishing too pale. But when the
+Conversation began between them, it was the softest in the world: They
+said all that parting Lovers could say; all that Wit and Tenderness
+could express: They exchanged their Vows anew; and to confirm his, he
+tied a Bracelet of Diamonds about her Arm, and she returned him one of
+her Hair, which he had long begged, and she had on purpose made, which
+clasped together with Diamonds; this she put about his Arm, and he swore
+to carry it to his Grave. The Night was far spent in tender Vows, soft
+Sighs and Tears on both sides, and it was high time to part: but, as if
+Death had been to have arrived to them in that Minute, they both
+linger'd away the time, like Lovers who had forgot themselves; and the
+Day was near approaching when he bid farewel, which he repeated very
+often: for still he was interrupted by some commanding Softness from
+_Atlante_, and then lost all his Power of going; till she, more
+courageous and careful of his Interest and her own Fame, forc'd him from
+her: and it was happy she did, for he was no sooner got over the
+Balcony, and she had flung him down his Rope, and shut the Door, but
+_Vernole_, whom Love and Contrivance kept waking, fancy'd several times
+he heard a Noise in _Atlante's_ Chamber. And whether in passing over the
+Balcony, _Rinaldo_ made any Noise or not, or whether it were still his
+jealous Fancy, he came up in his Night-Gown, with a Pistol in his Hand.
+_Atlante_ was not so much lost in Grief, tho' she were all in Tears, but
+she heard a Man come up, and imagin'd it had been her Father, she not
+knowing of Count _Vernole's_ lying in the House that Night; if she had,
+she possibly had taken more care to have been silent; but whoever it
+was, she could not get to bed soon enough, and therefore turn'd her self
+to her Dressing-Table, where a Candle stood, and where lay a Book open
+of the Story of _Ariadne_ and _Theseus_. The Count turning the Latch,
+enter'd halting into her Chamber in his Night-Gown clapped close about
+him, which betray'd an ill-favour'd Shape, his Night-Cap on, without a
+Perriwig, which discover'd all his lean wither'd Jaws, his pale Face,
+and his Eyes staring: and made altogether so dreadful a Figure, that
+_Atlante_, who no more dreamt of him than of a Devil, had possibly have
+rather seen the last. She gave a great Shriek, which frighted _Vernole_;
+so both stood for a while staring on each other, till both were
+recollected: He told her the Care of her Honour had brought him thither;
+and then rolling his small Eyes round the Chamber, to see if he could
+discover any body, he proceeded, and cry'd, 'Madam, if I had no other
+Motive than your being up at this time of Night, or rather of Day,
+I could easily guess how you have been entertain'd.' 'What Insolence is
+this (said she, all in a rage) when to cover your Boldness of
+approaching my Chamber at this Hour, you would question how I have been
+entertain'd! Either explain your self, or quit my Chamber; for I do not
+use to see such terrible Objects here.' 'Possibly those you do see (said
+the Count) are indeed more agreeable, but I am afraid have not that
+Regard to your Honour as I have': And at that word he stepped to the
+Balcony, open'd it, and look'd out; but seeing no body, he shut it to
+again. This enraged _Atlante_ beyond all Patience; and snatching the
+Pistol out of his Hand, she told him, He deserved to have it aimed at
+his Head, for having the Impudence to question her Honour, or her
+Conduct; and commanded him to avoid her Chamber as he lov'd his Life,
+which she believ'd he was fonder of than of her Honour. She speaking
+this in a Tone wholly transported with Rage, and at the same time
+holding the Pistol towards him, made him tremble with Fear; and he now
+found, whether she were guilty or not, it was his turn to beg Pardon:
+For you must know, however it came to pass that his Jealousy made him
+come up in that fierce Posture, at other times _Vernole_ was the most
+tame and passive Man in the World, and one who was afraid of his own
+Shadow in the Night: He had a natural Aversion for Danger, and thought
+it below a Man of Wit, or common Sense, to be guilty of that brutal
+thing, called Courage or Fighting; His Philosophy told him, _It was safe
+sleeping in a whole Skin_; and possibly he apprehended as much Danger
+from this _Virago_, as ever he did from his own Sex. He therefore fell
+on his Knees, and besought her to hold her fair Hand, and not to suffer
+that, which was the greatest Mark of his Respect, to be the Cause of her
+Hate or Indignation. The pitiful Faces he made, and the Signs of Mortal
+Fear in him, had almost made her laugh, at least it allay'd her Anger;
+and she bid him rise and play the fool hereafter somewhere else, and not
+in her Presence; yet for once she would deign to give him this
+Satisfaction, that she was got into a Book, which had many moving
+Stories very well writ; and that she found her self so well entertain'd,
+she had forgot how the Night passed. He most humbly thanked her for this
+Satisfaction, and retired, perhaps not so well satisfied as he
+pretended.
+
+After this, he appear'd more submissive and respectful towards
+_Atlante_; and she carry'd herself more reserv'd and haughty towards
+him; which was one Reason, he would not yet discover his Passion.
+
+Thus the Time run on at _Orleans_, while _Rinaldo_ found himself daily
+languishing at _Paris_. He was indeed in the best Academy in the City,
+amongst a Number of brave and noble Youths, where all things that could
+accomplish them, were to be learn'd by those that had any Genius; but
+_Rinaldo_ had other Thoughts, and other Business: his Time was wholly
+past in the most solitary Parts of the Garden, by the melancholy
+Fountains, and in the most gloomy Shades, where he could with most
+Liberty breathe out his Passion and his Griefs. He was past the Tutorage
+of a Boy; and his Masters could not upbraid him, but found he had some
+secret Cause of Grief, which made him not mind those Exercises, which
+were the Delight of the rest: so that nothing being able to divert his
+Melancholy, which daily increased upon him, he fear'd it would bring him
+into a Fever, if he did not give himself the Satisfaction of seeing
+_Atlante_. He had no sooner thought of this, but he was impatient to put
+it in execution; he resolved to go (having very good Horses) without
+acquainting any of his Servants with it. He got a very handsom and light
+Ladder of Ropes made, which he carry'd under his Coat, and away he rid
+for _Orleans_, stay'd at a little Village, till the Darkness of the
+Night might favour his Design: And then walking about _Atlante's_
+Lodgings, till he saw a Light in her Chamber, and then making that Noise
+on his Sword, as was agreed between them, he was heard by his adorable
+_Atlante_, and suffer'd to mount her Chamber, where he would stay till
+almost break of Day, and then return to the Village, and take Horse, and
+away for _Paris_ again. This, once in a Month, was his Exercise, without
+which he could not live; so that his whole Year was past in riding
+between _Orleans_ and _Paris_, between Excess of Grief, and Excess of
+Joy by turns.
+
+It was now that _Atlante_, arrived to her fifteenth Year, shone out with
+a Lustre of Beauty greater than ever; and in this Year, in the Absence
+of _Rinaldo_, had carry'd herself with that Severity of Life, without
+the youthful Desire of going abroad, or desiring any Diversion, but what
+she found in her own retired Thoughts, that _Vernole_, wholly unable
+longer to conceal his Passion, resolv'd to make a Publication of it,
+first to the Father, and then to the lovely Daughter, of whom he had
+some Hope, because she had carry'd her self very well towards him for
+this Year past; which she would never have done, if she had imagin'd he
+would ever have been her Lover: She had seen no Signs of any such
+Misfortune towards her in these many Years he had conversed with her,
+and she had no Cause to fear him. When one Day her Father taking her
+into the Garden, told her what Honour and Happiness was in store for
+her; and that now the Glory of his fall'n Family would rise again, since
+she had a Lover of an illustrious Blood, ally'd to Monarchs; and one
+whose Fortune was newly encreased to a very considerable Degree,
+answerable to his Birth. She changed Colour at this Discourse, imagining
+but too well who this illustrious Lover was; when _De Pais_ proceeded
+and told her, 'Indeed his Person was not the most agreeable that ever
+was seen: but he marry'd her to Glory and Fortune, not the Man: And a
+Woman (says he) ought to look no further.'
+
+She needed not any more to inform her who this intended Husband was; and
+therefore, bursting forth into Tears, she throws herself at his Feet,
+imploring him not to use the Authority of a Father, to force her to a
+thing so contrary to her Inclination: assuring him, she could not
+consent to any such thing; and that she would rather die than yield. She
+urged many Arguments for this her Disobedience; but none would pass for
+current with the old Gentleman, whose Pride had flatter'd him with Hopes
+of so considerable a Son-in-law: He was very much surpriz'd at
+_Atlante's_ refusing what he believ'd she would receive with Joy; and
+finding that no Arguments on his Side could draw hers to an obedient
+Consent, he grew to such a Rage, as very rarely possest him: vowing, if
+she did not conform her Will to his, he would abandon her to all the
+Cruelty of Contempt and Poverty: so that at last she was forced to
+return him this Answer, 'That she would strive all she could with her
+Heart; but she verily believed she should never bring it to consent to a
+Marriage with Monsieur the Count.' The Father continued threatning her,
+and gave her some Days to consider of it: So leaving her in Tears, he
+returned to his Chamber, to consider what Answer he should give Count
+_Vernole_, who he knew would be impatient to learn what Success he had,
+and what himself was to hope. _De Pais_, after some Consideration,
+resolved to tell him, she receiv'd the Offer very well, but that he must
+expect a little Maiden-Nicety in the Case: and accordingly did tell him
+so; and he was not at all doubtful of his good Fortune.
+
+But _Atlante_, who resolved to die a thousand Deaths rather than break
+her solemn Vows to _Rinaldo_, or to marry the Count, cast about how she
+should avoid it with the least Hazard of her Father's Rage. She found
+_Rinaldo_ the better and more advantageous Match of the two, could they
+but get his Father's Consent: He was beautiful and young; his Title was
+equal to that of _Vernole_, when his Father should die; and his Estate
+exceeded his: yet she dares not make a Discovery, for fear she should
+injure her Lover; who at this Time, though she knew it not, lay sick of
+a Fever, while she was wondering that he came not as he used to do.
+However she resolves to send him a Letter, and acquaint him with the
+Misfortune; which she did in these Terms:
+
+  _ATLANTE_ to _RINALDO_.
+
+  _My Father's Authority would force me to violate my sacred Vows to
+  you, and give them to the Count +Vernole+, whom I mortally hate, yet
+  could wish him the greatest Monarch in the World, that I might shew
+  you I could even then despise him for your Sake. My Father is
+  already too much enraged by my Denial, to hear Reason from me, if I
+  should confess to him my Vows to you: So that I see nothing but a
+  Prospect of Death before me; for assure your self, my +Rinaldo+,
+  I will die rather than consent to marry any other: Therefore come my
+  +Rinaldo+, and come quickly, to see my Funerals, instead of those
+  Nuptials they vainly expect from_
+
+  Your Faithful
+  _ATLANTE_.
+
+This Letter _Rinaldo_ receiv'd; and there needed no more to make him fly
+to _Orleans_: This raised him soon from his Bed of Sickness, and getting
+immediately to horse, he arrived at his Father's House; who did not so
+much admire to see him, because he heard he was sick of a Fever, and
+gave him leave to return, if he pleas'd: He went directly to his
+Father's House, because he knew somewhat of the Business, he was
+resolv'd to make his Passion known, as soon as he had seen _Atlante_,
+from whom he was to take all his Measures: He therefore fail'd not, when
+all were in Bed, to rise and go from his Chamber into the Street; where
+finding a Light in _Atlante's_ Chamber, for she every Night expected
+him, he made the usual Sign, and she went into the Balcony; and he
+having no Conveniency of mounting up into it, they discoursed, and said
+all they had to say. From thence she tells him of the Count's Passion,
+of her Father's Resolution, and that her own was rather to die his, than
+live any Body's else: And at last, as their Refuge, they resolv'd to
+discover the whole Matter; she to her Father, and he to his, to see what
+Accommodation they could make; if not, to die together. They parted at
+this Resolve, for she would permit him no longer to stay in the Street
+after such a Sickness; so he went home to bed, but not to sleep.
+
+The next Day, at Dinner, Monsieur _Bellyaurd_ believing his Son
+absolutely cur'd, by Absence, of his Passion; and speaking of all the
+News in the Town, among the rest, told him he was come in good time to
+dance at the Wedding of Count _Vernole_ with _Atlante_, the Match being
+agreed on: 'No, Sir (reply'd _Rinaldo_) I shall never dance at the
+Marriage of Count _Vernole_ with _Atlante_; and you will see in Monsieur
+_De Pais's_ House a Funeral sooner than a Wedding.' And thereupon he
+told his Father all his Passion for that lovely Maid; and assur'd him,
+if he would not see him laid in his Grave, he must consent to this
+Match. _Bellyaurd_ rose in a Fury, and told him, 'He had rather see him
+in his Grave, than in the Arms of _Atlante_: Not (continued he) so much
+for any Dislike I have to the young Lady, or the Smallness of her
+Fortune; but because I have so long warn'd you from such a Passion, and
+have with such Care endeavour'd by your Absence to prevent it.' He
+travers'd the Room very fast, still protesting against this Alliance:
+and was deaf to all _Rinaldo_ could say. On the other side the Day being
+come, wherein _Atlante_ was to give her final Answer to her Father
+concerning her Marriage with Count _Vernole_; she assum'd all the
+Courage and Resolution she could, to withstand the Storm that threatned
+a Denial. And her Father came to her, and demanding her Answer, she told
+him, 'She could not be the Wife of _Vernole_, since she was Wife to
+_Rinaldo_, only son to _Bellyaurd_.' If her Father storm'd before, he
+grew like a Man distracted at her Confession; and _Vernole_ hearing them
+loud, ran to the Chamber to learn the Cause; where just as he enter'd he
+found _De Pais's_ Sword drawn, and ready to kill his Daughter, who lay
+all in Tears at his Feet. He with-held his Hand; and asking the Cause of
+his Rage, he was told all that _Atlante_ had confess'd; which put
+_Vernole_ quite beside all his Gravity, and made him discover the
+Infirmity of Anger, which he used to say ought to be dissembled by all
+wise Men: So that _De Pais_ forgot his own to appease his, but 'twas in
+vain, for he went out of the House, vowing Revenge to _Rinaldo_: And to
+that end, being not very well assur'd of his own Courage, as I said
+before, and being of the Opinion, that no Man ought to expose his Life
+to him who has injur'd him; he hired _Swiss_ and _Spanish_ Soldiers to
+attend him in the nature of Footmen; and watch'd several Nights about
+_Bellyaurd's_ Door, and that of _De Pais's_, believing he should some
+time or other see him under the Window of _Atlante_, or perhaps mounting
+into it: for now he no longer doubted, but this happy Lover was he, whom
+he fancy'd he heard go from the Balcony that Night he came up with his
+Pistol; and being more a _Spaniard_ than a _Frenchman_ in his Nature, he
+resolv'd to take him any way unguarded or unarm'd, if he came in his
+Way.
+
+_Atlante_, who heard his Threatnings when he went from her in a Rage,
+fear'd his Cowardice might put him on some base Action, to deprive
+_Rinaldo_ of his Life; and therefore thought it not safe to suffer him
+to come to her by Night, as he had before done; but sent him word in a
+Note, that he should forbear her Window, for _Vernole_ had sworn his
+Death. This Note came, unseen by his Father, to his Hands: but this
+could not hinder him from coming to her Window, which he did as soon as
+it was dark: he came thither, only attended with his Valet, and two
+Footmen; for now he car'd not who knew the Secret. He had no sooner made
+the Sign, but he found himself incompass'd with _Vernole's_ Bravoes; and
+himself standing at a distance cry'd out, 'That is he': With that they
+all drew on both sides, and _Rinaldo_ receiv'd a Wound in his Arm.
+_Atlante_ heard this, and ran crying out, 'That _Rinaldo_, prest by
+Numbers, would be kill'd.' _De Pais_, who was reading in his Closet,
+took his Sword, and ran out; and, contrary to all Expectation, seeing
+_Rinaldo_ fighting with his Back to the Door, pull'd him into the House,
+and fought himself with the Bravoes: who being very much wounded by
+_Rinaldo_, gave ground, and sheer'd off; and _De Pais_, putting up old
+_Bilbo_ into the Scabbard, went into his House, where he found _Rinaldo_
+almost fainting with loss of Blood, and _Atlante_, with her Maids
+binding up his Wound; to whom _De Pais_ said, 'This charity, _Atlante_,
+very well becomes you, and is what I can allow you; and I could wish you
+had no other Motive for this Action.' _Rinaldo_ by degrees recover'd of
+his Fainting, and as well as his Weakness would permit him, he got up
+and made a low Reverence to _De Pais_, telling him, 'He had now a double
+Obligation to pay him all the Respect in the World; first, for his being
+the Father of _Atlante_; and secondly, for being the Preserver of his
+Life: two Tyes that should eternally oblige him to love and honour him,
+as his own Parent.' _De Pais_ reply'd, 'He had done nothing but what
+common Humanity compell'd him to do: But if he would make good that
+Respect he profess'd towards him, it must be in quitting all Hopes of
+_Atlante_, whom he had destin'd to another, or an eternal Inclosure in a
+Monastery: He had another Daughter, whom if he would think worthy of his
+Regard, he should take his Alliance as a very great Honour; but his Word
+and Reputation, nay his Vows were past, to give _Atlante_ to Count
+_Vernole_.' _Rinaldo_, who before he spoke took measure from _Atlante's_
+Eyes, which told him her Heart was his, return'd this Answer to _De
+Pais_, 'That he was infinitely glad to find by the Generosity of his
+Offer, that he had no Aversion against his being his Son-in-law; and
+that, next to _Atlante_, the greatest Happiness he could wish would be
+his receiving _Charlot_ from his Hand; but that he could not think of
+quitting _Atlante_, how necessary soever it would be, for Glory, and
+his--(the further) Repose.' _De Pais_ would not let him at this time
+argue the matter further, seeing he was ill, and had need of looking
+after; he therefore begg'd he would for his Health's sake retire to his
+own House, whither he himself conducted him, and left him to the Care of
+his Men, who were escap'd the Fray; and returning to his own Chamber, he
+found _Atlante_ retir'd, and so he went to bed full of Thoughts. This
+Night had increas'd his Esteem for _Rinaldo_, and lessen'd it for Count
+_Vernole_; but his Word and Honour being past, he could not break it,
+neither with Safety nor Honour: for he knew the haughty resenting Nature
+of the Count, and he fear'd some Danger might arrive to the brave
+_Rinaldo_, which troubled him very much. At last he resolv'd, that
+neither might take any thing ill at his Hands, to lose _Atlante_, and
+send her to the Monastery where her Sister was, and compel her to be a
+Nun. This he thought would prevent Mischiefs on both sides; and
+accordingly, the next Day, (having in the Morning sent Word to the Lady
+Abbess what he would have done) he carries _Atlante_, under pretence of
+visiting her Sister, (which they often did) to the Monastery, where she
+was no sooner come, but she was led into the Inclosure: Her Father had
+rather sacrifice her, than she should be the Cause of the Murder of two
+such noble Men as _Vernole_ and _Rinaldo_.
+
+The Noise of _Atlante's_ being inclos'd, was soon spread all over the
+busy Town, and _Rinaldo_ was not the last to whom the News arriv'd: He
+was for a few Days confin'd to his Chamber; where, when alone, he rav'd
+like a Man distracted; But his Wounds had so incens'd his Father against
+_Atlante_, that he swore he would see his Son die of them, rather than
+suffer him to marry _Atlante_; and was extremely overjoy'd to find she
+was condemn'd, for ever, to the Monastery. So that the Son thought it
+the wisest Course, and most for the advantage of his Love, to say
+nothing to contradict his Father; but being almost assur'd _Atlante_
+would never consent to be shut up in a Cloyster, and abandon him, he
+flatter'd himself with hope, that he should steal her from thence, and
+marry her in spite of all Opposition. This he was impatient to put in
+practice: He believ'd, if he were not permitted to see _Atlante_, he had
+still a kind Advocate in _Charlot_, who was now arriv'd to her
+Thirteenth Year, and infinitely advanc'd in Wit and Beauty. _Rinaldo_
+therefore often goes to the Monastery, surrounding it, to see what
+Possibility there was of accomplishing his Design; if he could get her
+Consent, he finds it not impossible, and goes to visit _Charlot_; who
+had command not to see him, or speak to him. This was a Cruelty he
+look'd not for, and which gave him an unspeakable Trouble, and without
+her Aid it was wholly impossible to give _Atlante_ any account of his
+Design. In this Perplexity he remain'd many Days, in which he languish'd
+almost to Death; he was distracted with Thought, and continually
+hovering about the Nunnery-Walls, in hope, at some time or other, to see
+or hear from that lovely Maid, who alone could make his Happiness. In
+these Traverses he often met _Vernole_, who had Liberty to see her when
+he pleas'd: If it happen'd that they chanc'd to meet in the Daytime,
+tho' _Vernole_ was attended with an Equipage of Ruffians, and _Rinaldo_
+but only with a couple of Footmen, he could perceive _Vernole_ shun him,
+grow pale, and almost tremble with Fear sometimes, and get to the other
+Side of the Street; and if he did not, _Rinaldo_ having a mortal Hate to
+him, would often bear up so close to him, that he would jostle him
+against the Wall, which _Vernole_ would patiently put up, and pass on;
+so that he could never be provok'd to fight by Day-light, how solitary
+soever the Place was where they met: but if they chanc'd to meet at
+Night, they were certain of a Skirmish, in which he would have no part
+himself; so that _Rinaldo_ was often like to be assassinated, but still
+came off with some slight Wound. This continu'd so long, and made so
+great a Noise in the Town, that the two old Gentlemen were mightily
+alarm'd by it; and Count _Bellyaurd_ came to _De Pais_, one Day, to
+discourse with him of this Affair; and _Bellyaurd_, for the Preservation
+of his Son, was almost consenting, since there was no Remedy, that he
+should marry _Atlante_. _De Pais_ confess'd the Honour he proffer'd him,
+and how troubled he was, that his Word was already past to his Friend,
+the Count _Vernole_, whom he said she should marry, or remain for ever a
+Nun; but if _Rinaldo_ could displace his Love from _Atlante_, and place
+it on _Charlot_, he should gladly consent to the Match. _Bellyaurd_, who
+would now do anything for the Repose of his Son, tho' he believ'd this
+Exchange would not pass, yet resolv'd to propose it, since by marrying
+him he took him out of the Danger of _Vernole's_ Assassinates, who would
+never leave him till they had dispatch'd him, should he marry _Atlante_.
+
+While _Rinaldo_ was contriving a thousand ways to come to speak to, or
+send Billets to _Atlante_, none of which could succeed without the Aid
+of _Charlot_, his Father came and propos'd this Agreement between _De
+Pais_ and himself, to his Son. At first _Rinaldo_ receiv'd it with a
+chang'd Countenance, and a breaking Heart; but swiftly turning from
+Thought to Thought, he conceiv'd this the only way to come at _Charlot_,
+and so consequently at _Atlante_: he therefore, after some dissembled
+Regret, consents, with a sad put-on Look: And _Charlot_ had Notice given
+her to see and entertain _Rinaldo_. As yet they had not told her the
+Reason; which her Father would tell her, when he came to visit her, he
+said. _Rinaldo_ over-joy'd at this Contrivance, and his own
+Dissimulation, goes to the Monastery, and visits _Charlot_; where he
+ought to have said something of this Proposition: but wholly bent upon
+other Thoughts, he sollicits her to convey some Letters, and Presents to
+_Atlante_; which she readily did, to the unspeakable Joy of the poor
+Distrest. Sometimes he would talk to _Charlot_ of her own Affairs;
+asking her, if she resolv'd to become a Nun? To which she would sigh,
+and say, If she must, it would be extremely against her Inclinations;
+and, if it pleas'd her Father, she had rather begin the World with any
+tolerable Match.
+
+Things past thus for some Days, in which our Lovers were happy, and
+_Vernole_ assur'd he should have _Atlante_. But at last _De Pais_ came
+to visit _Charlot_, who ask'd her, if she had seen _Rinaldo_? She
+answer'd, 'She had.' 'And how does he entertain you? (reply'd _De Pais_)
+Have you receiv'd him as a Husband? and has he behav'd himself like
+one?' At this a sudden Joy seiz'd the Heart of _Charlot_; and both to
+confess what she had done for him to her Sister, she hung down her
+blushing Face to study for an Answer. _De Pais_ continued, and told her
+the Agreement between _Bellyaurd_ and him, for the saving of Bloodshed.
+
+She, who blest the Cause, whatever it was, having always a great
+Friendship and Tenderness for _Rinaldo_, gave her Father a thousand
+Thanks for his Care; and assur'd him, since she was commanded by him,
+she would receive him as her Husband.
+
+And the next Day, when _Rinaldo_ came to visit her, as he us'd to do,
+and bringing a Letter with him, wherein he propos'd the flight of
+_Atlante_; he found a Coldness in _Charlot_, as soon as he told her his
+Design, and desir'd her to carry the Letter. He ask'd the Reason of this
+Change: She tells him she was inform'd of the Agreement between their
+two Fathers, and that she look'd upon herself as his Wife, and would act
+no more as a Confident; that she had ever a violent Inclination of
+Friendship for him, which she would soon improve into something more
+soft.
+
+He could not deny the Agreement, nor his Promise; but it was in vain to
+tell her, he did it only to get a Correspondence with _Atlante_: She is
+obstinate, and he as pressing, with all the Tenderness of Persuasion: He
+vows he can never be any but _Atlante's_, and she may see him die, but
+never break his Vows. She urges her Claim in vain, so that at last she
+was overcome, and promised she would carry the Letter; which was to have
+her make her Escape that Night. He waits at the Gate for her Answer, and
+_Charlot_ returns with one that pleased him very well; which was, that
+Night her Sister would make her Escape, and that he must stand in such a
+Place of the Nunnery-Wall, and she would come out to him.
+
+After this she upbraids him with his false Promise to her, and of her
+Goodness to serve him after such a Disappointment. He receives her
+Reproaches with a thousand Sighs, and bemoans her Misfortune in not
+being capable of more than Friendship for her; and vows, that next
+_Atlante_, he esteems her of all Womankind. She seems to be obliged by
+this, and assured him, she would hasten the Flight of _Atlante_; and
+taking leave, he went home to order a Coach, and some Servants to assist
+him.
+
+In the mean time Count _Vernole_ came to visit _Atlante_; but she
+refused to be seen by him: And all he could do there that Afternoon, was
+entertaining _Charlot_ at the Grate; to whom he spoke a great many fine
+Things, both of her improved Beauty and Wit; and how happy _Rinaldo_
+would be in so fair a Bride. She received this with all the Civility
+that was due to his Quality; and their Discourse being at an End, he
+took his Leave, being towards the Evening.
+
+_Rinaldo_, wholly impatient, came betimes to the Corner of the dead
+Wall, where he was appointed to stand, having ordered his Footmen and
+Coach to come to him as soon it was dark. While he was there walking up
+and down, _Vernole_ came by the End of the Wall to go home; and looking
+about, he saw, at the other End, _Rinaldo_ walking, whose Back was
+towards him, but he knew him well; and tho' he feared and dreaded his
+Business there, he durst not encounter him, they being both attended but
+by one Footman a-piece. But _Vernole's_ Jealousy and Indignation were so
+high, that he resolved to fetch his Bravoes to his Aid, and come and
+assault him: For he knew he waited there for some Message from
+_Atlante_.
+
+In the mean Time it grew dark, and _Rinaldo_'s Coach came with another
+Footman; which were hardly arrived, when _Vernole_, with his Assistants,
+came to the Corner of the Wall, and skreening themselves a little behind
+it, near to the Place where _Rinaldo_ stood, who waited now close to a
+little Door, out of which the Gardeners used to throw the Weeds and
+Dirt, _Vernole_ could perceive anon the Door to open, and a Woman come
+out of it, calling _Rinaldo_ by his Name, who stept up to her, and
+caught her in his Arms with Signs of infinite Joy. _Vernole_ being now
+all Rage, cry'd to his Assassinates, 'Fall on, and kill the Ravisher':
+And immediately they all fell on. _Rinaldo_, who had only his two
+Footmen on his Side, was forc'd to let go the Lady; who would have run
+into the Garden again, but the Door fell to and lock'd: so that while
+_Rinaldo_ was fighting, and beaten back by the Bravoes, one of which he
+laid dead at his Feet, _Vernole_ came to the frighted Lady, and taking
+her by the Hand, cry'd, 'Come, my fair Fugitive, you must go along with
+me.' She wholly scar'd out of her Senses, was willing to go any where
+out of the Terror she heard so near her, and without Reply, gave her
+self into his Hand, who carried her directly to her Father's House;
+where she was no sooner come, but he told her Father all that had past,
+and how she was running away with _Rinaldo_, but that his good Fortune
+brought him just in the lucky Minute. Her Father turning to reproach
+her, found by the Light of a Candle that this was _Charlot_, and not
+_Atlante_, whom _Vernole_ had brought Home: At which _Vernole_ was
+extremely astonish'd. Her Father demanded of her why she was running
+away with a Man, who was design'd her by Consent? 'Yes, (said _Charlot_)
+you had his Consent, Sir, and that of his Father; but I was far from
+getting it: I found he resolv'd to die rather than quit _Atlante_; and
+promising him my Assistance in his Amour, since he could never be mine,
+he got me to carry a Letter to _Atlante_; which was, to desire her to
+fly away with him. Instead of carrying her this Letter, I told her, he
+was design'd for me, and had cancell'd all his Vows to her: She swoon'd
+at this News; and being recover'd a little, I left her in the Hands of
+the Nuns, to persuade her to live; which she resolves not to do without
+_Rinaldo_. Tho' they press'd me, yet I resolv'd to pursue my Design,
+which was to tell _Rinaldo_ she would obey his kind Summons. He waited
+for her; but I put my self into his Hands in lieu of _Atlante_; and had
+not the Count receiv'd me, we had been marry'd by this time, by some
+false Light that could not have discover'd me: But I am satisfied, if I
+had, he would never have liv'd with me longer than the Cheat had been
+undiscover'd; for I find them both resolved to die, rather than change.
+And for my part, Sir, I was not so much in Love with _Rinaldo_, as I was
+out of love with the Nunnery; and took any Opportunity to quit a Life
+absolutely contrary to my Humour.' She spoke this with a Gaiety so
+brisk, and an Air so agreeable, that _Vernole_ found it touch'd his
+Heart; and the rather because he found _Atlante_ would never be his; or
+if she were, he should be still in Danger from the Resentment of
+_Rinaldo_: he therefore bowing to _Charlot_, and taking her by the Hand,
+cry'd, 'Madam, since Fortune has dispos'd you thus luckily for me, in my
+Possession, I humbly implore you would consent she should make me
+entirely happy, and give me the Prize for which I fought, and have
+conquer'd with my Sword.' 'My Lord, (reply'd _Charlot_, with a modest
+Air) I am superstitious enough to believe, since Fortune, so contrary to
+all our Designs, has given me into your Hands, that she from the
+beginning destin'd me to the Honour, which, with my Father's Consent,
+I shall receive as becomes me.' _De Pais_ transported with Joy, to find
+all Things would be so well brought about, it being all one to him,
+whether _Charlot_ or _Atlante_ gave him Count _Vernole_ for his
+Son-in-law, readily consented; and immediately a Priest was sent for,
+and they were that Night marry'd. And it being now not above seven
+o'Clock, many of their Friends were invited, the Musick sent for, and as
+good a Supper as so short a Time would provide, was made ready.
+
+All this was perform'd in as short a time as _Rinaldo_ was fighting; and
+having kill'd one, and wounded the rest, they all fled before his
+conquering Sword, which was never drawn with so good a Will. When he
+came where his Coach stood, just against the Back-Garden-Door, he looked
+for his Mistress: But the Coachman told him, he was no sooner engaged,
+but a Man came, and with a thousand Reproaches on her Levity, bore her
+off.
+
+This made our young Lover rave; and he is satisfied she is in the Hands
+of his Rival, and that he had been fighting, and shedding his Blood,
+only to secure her Flight with him. He lost all Patience, and it was
+with much ado his Servants persuaded him to return; telling him in their
+Opinion, she was more likely to get out of the Hands of his Rival, and
+come to him, than when she was in the Monastery.
+
+He suffers himself to go into his Coach and be carry'd home; but he was
+no sooner alighted, than he heard Musick and Noise at _De Pais's_ House.
+He saw Coaches surround his Door, and Pages and Footmen, with Flambeaux.
+The Sight and Noise of Joy made him ready to sink at the Door; and
+sending his Footmen to learn the Cause of this Triumph, the Pages that
+waited told him, That Count _Vernole_ was this Night married to Monsieur
+_De Pais's_ Daughter. He needed no more to deprive him of all Sense; and
+staggering against his Coach, he was caught by his Footmen and carried
+into his House, and to his Chamber, where they put him to Bed, all
+sensless as he was, and had much ado to recover him to Life. He ask'd
+for his Father, with a faint Voice, for he desir'd to see him before he
+died. It was told him he was gone to Count _Vernole's_ Wedding, where
+there was a perfect Peace agreed on between them, and all their
+Animosities laid aside. At this News _Rinaldo_ fainted again; and his
+Servants call'd his Father home, and told him in what Condition they had
+brought home their Master, recounting to him all that was past. He
+hasten'd to _Rinaldo_, whom he found just recover'd of his Swooning;
+who, putting his Hand out to his Father, all cold and trembling, cry'd,
+'Well, Sir, now you are satisfied, since you have seen _Atlante_ married
+to Count _Vernole_, I hope now you will give your unfortunate Son leave
+to die; as you wish'd he should, rather than give him to the Arms of
+_Atlante_.' Here his Speech fail'd, and he fell again into a Fit of
+Swooning; His Father ready to die with fear of his Son's Death, kneel'd
+down by his Bed-side; and after having recover'd a little, he said, 'My
+dear Son, I have been indeed at the Wedding of Count _Vernole_, but 'tis
+not _Atlante_ to whom he is married, but _Charlot_; who was the Person
+you were bearing from the Monastery, instead of _Atlante_, who is still
+reserv'd for you, and she is dying till she hear you are reserv'd for
+her; Therefore, as you regard her Life, make much of your own, and make
+your self fit to receive her; for her Father and I have agreed the
+Marriage already.' And without giving him leave to think, he call'd to
+one of his Gentlemen, and sent him to the Monastery, with this News to
+_Atlante_. _Rinaldo_ bowed himself as low as he could in his Bed, and
+kiss'd the Hand of his Father, with Tears of Joy: But his Weakness
+continued all the next Day; and they were fain to bring _Atlante_ to
+him, to confirm his Happiness.
+
+It must only be guessed by Lovers, the perfect Joy these two receiv'd in
+the sight of each other. _Bellyaurd_ received her as his Daughter; and
+the next Day made her so, with very great Solemnity, at which were
+_Vernole_ and _Charlot_: Between _Rinaldo_ and him was concluded a
+perfect Peace, and all thought themselves happy in this double Union.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Lucky Mistake.
+
+
+p. 351 This Dedication only appears in the first edition (12mo, 1689),
+'for R. Bentley'. George Granville or Grenville,[1] Lord Lansdowne, the
+celebrated wit, dramatist and poet, was born in 1667. Having zealously
+offered in 1688 to defend James II, during the subsequent reign he
+perforce 'lived in literary retirement'. He then wrote _The She
+Gallants_ (1696, and 4to, 1696), an excellent comedy full of jest and
+spirit. Offending, however, some ladies 'who set up for chastity' it
+made its exit. Granville afterwards revived it as _Once a Lover and
+Always a Lover_. _Heroick Love_, a tragedy (1698), had great success.
+_The Jew of Venice_ (1701), is a piteously weak adaption of _The
+Merchant of Venice_. A short masque, _Peleus and Thetis_ accompanies the
+play. _The British Enchanters_, an opera (1706), is a pleasing piece,
+and was very well received. At the accession of Queen Anne, Granville
+entered the political arena and attained considerable offices of state.
+Suspected of being an active Jacobite he was, under George I, imprisoned
+from 25 September, 1715, till 8 February, 1717. In 1722 he went abroad,
+and lived in Paris for ten years. In 1732 he returned and published a
+finely printed edition of his complete _Works_ (2 Vols., 4to, 1732; and
+again, 3 Vols., 1736, 12mo). He died 30 January, 1735, and is buried in
+St. Clement Danes.
+
+p. 398 _double Union_. In a collection of Novels with running title:
+_The Deceived Lovers_ (1696), we find No. V _The Curtezan Deceived_, 'An
+Addition to The Lucky Mistake, Written by Mrs. A. Behn.' This
+introduction of Mrs. Behn's name was a mere bookseller's trick to catch
+the unwary reader. _The Curtezan Deceived_ is of no value. It has
+nothing to do with Aphra's work and is as commonplace a little novel as
+an hundred others of its day.
+
+    [Footnote 1: The spelling 'Greenvil' 'Greenviel' is incorrect.]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE; OR, THE BLIND LADY A BEAUTY.
+
+
+
+
+  TO RICHARD NORTON, OF SOUTHWICK IN HANTSHIRE, ESQUIRE.
+
+  Honour'd Sir,
+
+Eminent Wit, Sir, no more than Eminent Beauty, can escape the Trouble
+and Presumption of Addresses; and that which can strike every body with
+Wonder, can never avoid the Praise which naturally flows from that
+Wonder: And Heaven is forc'd to hear the Addresses as well as praises of
+the Poor as Rich, of the Ignorant as Learned, and takes, nay rewards,
+the officious tho' perhaps impertinent Zeal of its least qualify'd
+Devotees. Wherefore, Sir, tho' your Merits meet with the Applause of the
+Learned and Witty, yet your Generosity will judge favourably of the
+untaught Zeal of an humbler Admirer, since what I do your eminent
+Vertues compel. The Beautiful will permit the most despicable of their
+Admirers to love them, tho' they never intend to make him happy, as
+unworthy their Love, but they will not be angry at the fatal Effect of
+their own Eyes.
+
+But what I want in my self, Sir, to merit your Regard, I hope my
+Authoress will in some measure supply, so far at least to lessen my
+Presumption in prefixing your Name to a Posthumous Piece of hers, whom
+all the Men of Wit, that were her Contemporaries, look'd on as the
+Wonder of her Sex; and in none of her Performances has she shew'd so
+great a Mastery as in her Novels, where Nature always prevails; and if
+they are not true, they are so like it, that they do the business every
+jot as well.
+
+This I hope, Sir, will induce you to pardon my Presumption in dedicating
+this Novel to you, and declaring my self, Sir,
+
+  Your most obedient
+    and most humble Servant,
+      S. Briscoe.
+
+
+
+
+THE UNFORTUNATE BRIDE: or, The Blind Lady a Beauty.
+
+
+_Frankwit_ and _Wildvill_, were two young Gentlemen of very considerable
+Fortunes, both born in _Staffordshire_, and, during their Minority, both
+educated together, by which Opportunity they contracted a very
+inviolable Friendship, a Friendship which grew up with them; and though
+it was remarkably known to every Body else, they knew it not themselves;
+they never made Profession of it in Words, but Actions; so true a Warmth
+their Fires could boast, as needed not the Effusion of their Breath to
+make it live. _Wildvill_ was of the richest Family, but _Frankwit_ of
+the noblest; _Wildvill_ was admired for outward Qualifications, as
+Strength, and manly Proportions, _Frankwit_ for a much softer Beauty,
+for his inward Endowments, Pleasing in his Conversation, of a free, and
+moving Air, humble in his Behaviour, and if he had any Pride, it was but
+just enough to shew that he did not affect Humility; his Mind bowed with
+a Motion as unconstrained as his Body, nor did he force this Vertue in
+the least, but he allowed it only. So aimable he was, that every Virgin
+that had Eyes, knew too she had a Heart, and knew as surely she should
+lose it. His _Cupid_ could not be reputed blind, he never shot for him,
+but he was sure to wound. As every other Nymph admired him, so he was
+dear to all the Tuneful Sisters; the Muses were fired with him as much
+as their own radiant God _Apollo_; their loved Springs and Fountains
+were not so grateful to their Eyes as he, him they esteemed their
+_Helicon_ and _Parnassus_ too; in short, when ever he pleased, he could
+enjoy them all. Thus he enamour'd the whole Female Sex, but amongst all
+the sighing Captives of his Eyes, _Belvira_ only boasted Charms to move
+him; her Parents lived near his, and even from their Childhood they felt
+mutual Love, as if their Eyes, at their first meeting, had struck out
+such Glances, as had kindled into amorous Flame. And now _Belvira_ in
+her fourteenth Year, (when the fresh Spring of young Virginity began to
+cast more lively Bloomings in her Cheeks, and softer Longings in her
+Eyes) by her indulgent Father's Care was sent to _London_ to a Friend,
+her Mother being lately dead: When, as if Fortune ordered it so,
+_Frankwit's_ Father took a Journey to the other World, to let his Son
+the better enjoy the Pleasures and Delights of this: The young Lover now
+with all imaginable haste interred his Father, nor did he shed so many
+Tears for his Loss, as might in the least quench the Fire which he
+received from his _Belvira's_ Eyes, but (Master of seventeen Hundred
+Pounds a Year, which his Father left him) with all the Wings of Love
+flies to _London_, and sollicits _Belvira_ with such Fervency, that it
+might be thought he meant Death's Torch should kindle _Hymen's_; and now
+as soon as he arrives at his Journey's end, he goes to pay a Visit to
+the fair Mistress of his Soul, and assures her, That tho' he was absent
+from her, yet she was still with him; and that all the Road he
+travell'd, her beauteous Image danced before him, and like the ravished
+Prophet, he saw his Deity in every Bush; in short, he paid her constant
+Visits, the Sun ne'er rose or set, but still he saw it in her Company,
+and every Minute of the Day he counted by his Sighs. So incessantly he
+importuned her that she could no longer hold out, and was pleased in the
+surrender of her Heart, since it was he was Conqueror; and therefore
+felt a Triumph in her yielding. Their Flames now joyned, grew more and
+more, glowed in their Cheeks, and lightened in their Glances: Eager they
+looked, as if there were Pulses beating in their Eyes; and all
+endearing, at last she vowed, that _Frankwit_ living she would ne'er be
+any other Man's. Thus they past on some time, while every Day rowl'd
+over fair; Heaven showed an Aspect all serene, and the Sun seemed to
+smile at what was done. He still caressed his Charmer, with an Innocence
+becoming his Sincerity; he lived upon her tender Breath, and basked in
+the bright Lustre of her Eyes, with Pride, and secret Joy.
+
+He saw his Rivals languish for that Bliss, those Charms, those Raptures
+and extatick Transports, which he engrossed alone. But now some eighteen
+Months (some Ages in a Lover's Kalendar) winged with Delights, and fair
+_Belvira_ now grown fit for riper Joys, knows hardly how she can deny
+her pressing Lover, and herself, to crown their Vows, and joyn their
+Hands as well as Hearts. All this while the young Gallant wash'd himself
+clean of that shining Dirt, his Gold; he fancied little of Heaven dwelt
+in his yellow Angels, but let them fly away, as it were on their own
+golden Wings; he only valued the smiling Babies in _Belvira's_ Eyes. His
+Generosity was boundless, as his Love, for no Man ever truly loved, that
+was not generous. He thought his Estate, like his Passion, was a sort of
+a _Pontick_ Ocean, it could never know an Ebb; But now he found it could
+be fathom'd, and that the Tide was turning, therefore he sollicits with
+more impatience the consummation of their Joys, that both might go like
+Martyrs from their Flames immediately to Heaven; and now at last it was
+agreed between them, that they should both be one, but not without some
+Reluctancy on the Female side; for 'tis the Humour of our Sex, to deny
+most eagerly those Grants to Lovers, for which most tenderly we sigh, so
+contradictory are we to our selves, as if the Deity had made us with a
+seeming Reluctancy to his own Designs; placing as much Discords in our
+Minds, as there is Harmony in our Faces. We are a sort of aiery Clouds,
+whose Lightning flash out one way, and the Thunder another. Our Words
+and Thoughts can ne'er agree. So this young charming Lady thought her
+Desires could live in their own longings, like Misers wealth-devouring
+Eyes; and e'er she consented to her Lover, prepared him first with
+speaking Looks, and then with a fore-running Sigh, applyed to the dear
+Charmer thus: '_Frankwit_, I am afraid to venture the Matrimonial
+Bondage, it may make you think your self too much confined, in being
+only free to one.' 'Ah! my dear _Belvira_,' he replied, 'That one, like
+_Manna_, has the Taste of all, why should I be displeased to be confined
+to Paradice, when it was the Curse of our Forefathers to be set at
+large, tho' they had the whole World to roam in: You have, my love,
+ubiquitary Charms, and you are all in all, in every Part.' 'Ay, but,'
+reply'd _Belvira_, 'we are all like Perfumes, and too continual Smelling
+makes us seem to have lost our Sweets, I'll be judged by my Cousin
+_Celesia_ here, if it be not better to live still in mutual Love,
+without the last Enjoyment.' (I had forgot to tell my Reader that
+_Celesia_ was an Heiress, the only Child of a rich _Turkey_ Merchant,
+who, when he dyed, left her Fifty thousand Pound in Money, and some
+Estate in Land; but, poor Creature, she was Blind to all these Riches,
+having been born without the use of Sight, though in all other Respects
+charming to a wonder.) 'Indeed,' says _Celesia_, (for she saw clearly in
+her Mind) 'I admire you should ask my Judgment in such a Case, where I
+have never had the least Experience; but I believe it is but a sickly
+Soul which cannot nourish its Offspring of Desires without preying upon
+the Body.' 'Believe me,' reply'd _Frankwit_, 'I bewail your want of
+Sight, and I could almost wish you my own Eyes for a Moment, to view
+your charming Cousin, where you would see such Beauties as are too
+dazling to be long beheld; and if too daringly you gazed, you would feel
+the Misfortune of the loss of Sight, much greater than the want of it:
+And you would acknowledge, that in too presumptuously seeing, you would
+be blinder then, than now unhappily you are.'
+
+'Ah! I must confess,' reply'd _Belvira_, 'my poor, dear Cousin is Blind,
+for I fancy she bears too great an Esteem for _Frankwit_, and only longs
+for Sight to look on him.' 'Indeed,' reply'd _Celesia_, 'I would be glad
+to see _Frankwit_, for I fancy he's as dazling, as he but now describ'd
+his Mistress, and if I fancy I see him, sure I do see him, for Sight is
+Fancy, is it not? or do you feel my Cousin with your Eyes?' 'This is
+indeed, a charming Blindness,' reply'd _Frankwit_, 'and the fancy of
+your Sight excels the certainty of ours. Strange! that there should be
+such Glances even in blindness? You, fair Maid, require not Eyes to
+conquer, if your Night has such Stars, what Sunshine would your Day of
+Sight have, if ever you should see?' 'I fear those Stars you talk of,'
+said _Belvira_, 'have some Influence on you, and by the Compass you sail
+by now, I guess you are steering to my Cousin. She is indeed charming
+enough to have been another Offspring of bright _Venus_, Blind like her
+Brother _Cupid_.' 'That _Cupid_,' reply'd _Celesia_, 'I am afraid has
+shot me, for methinks I would not have you marry _Frankwit_, but rather
+live as you do without the last Enjoyment, for methinks if he were
+marry'd, he would be more out of Sight than he already is.' 'Ah, Madam,'
+return'd _Frankwit_, 'Love is no Camelion, it cannot feed on Air alone.'
+'No but,' rejoyn'd _Celesia_, 'you Lovers that are not Blind like Love
+it self, have am'rous Looks to feed on.' 'Ah! believe it,' said
+_Belvira_, ''tis better, _Frankwit_, not to lose Paradice by too much
+Knowledge; Marriage Enjoyments does but wake you from your sweet golden
+Dreams: Pleasure is but a Dream, dear _Frankwit_, but a Dream, and to be
+waken'd.' 'Ah! Dearest, but unkind _Belvira_,' answer'd _Frankwit_,
+'sure there's no waking from Delight, in being lull'd on those soft
+Breasts of thine.' 'Alas! (reply'd the Bride to be) it is that very
+lulling wakes you; Women enjoy'd, are like Romances read, or Raree-shows
+once seen, meer Tricks of the slight of Hand, which, when found out, you
+only wonder at your selves for wondering so before at them. 'Tis
+Expectation endears the Blessing; Heaven would not be Heaven, could we
+tell what 'tis. When the Plot's out you have done with the Play, and
+when the last Act's done, you see the Curtain drawn with great
+indifferency.' 'O my _Belvira_', answered _Frankwit_, 'that Expectation
+were indeed a Monster which Enjoyment could not satisfy: I should take
+no pleasure,' he rejoin'd, 'running from Hill to Hill, like Children
+chasing that Sun, which I could never catch.' 'O thou shalt have it
+then, that Sun of Love,' reply'd _Belvira_, fir'd by this Complaint,
+and gently rush'd into Arms, (rejoyn'd) so _Phoebus_ rushes radiant and
+unsullied, into a gilded Cloud. 'Well then, my dear _Belvira_,' answered
+_Frankwit_, 'be assured I shall be ever yours, as you are mine; fear not
+you shall never draw Bills of Love upon me so fast, as I shall wait in
+readiness to pay them; but now I talk of Bills, I must retire into
+_Cambridgeshire_, where I have a small Concern as yet unmortgaged,
+I will return thence with a Brace of thousand Pounds within a Week at
+furthest, with which our Nuptials, by their Celebration, shall be worthy
+of our Love. And then, my Life, my Soul, we shall be join'd, never to
+part again.' This tender Expression mov'd _Belvira_ to shed some few
+Tears, and poor _Celesia_ thought herself most unhappy that she had not
+Eyes to weep with too; but if she had, such was the greatness of her
+Grief, that sure she would have soon grown Blind with weeping. In short,
+after a great many soft Vows, and Promises of an inviolable Faith, they
+parted with a pompous sort of pleasing Woe; their Concern was of such a
+mixture of Joy and Sadness, as the Weather seems, when it both rains and
+shines. And now the last, the very last Adieu's was over, for the
+Farewels of Lovers hardly ever end, and _Frankwit_ (the Time being
+Summer) reach'd _Cambridge_ that Night, about Nine a Clock; (Strange!
+that he should have made such Haste to fly from what so much he lov'd!)
+and now, tir'd with the fatigue of his Journey, he thought fit to
+refresh himself by writing some few Lines to his belov'd _Belvira_; for
+a little Verse after the dull Prose Company of his Servant, was as great
+an Ease to him, (from whom it flow'd as naturally and unartificially, as
+his Love or his Breath) as a Pace or Hand-gallop, after a hard, uncouth,
+and rugged Trot. He therefore, finding his _Pegasus_ was no way tir'd
+with his Land-travel, takes a short Journey thro' the Air, and writes as
+follows:
+
+  _My dearest dear +Belvira+,_
+
+  You knew my Soul, you knew it yours before,
+  I told it all, and now can tell no more;
+  Your Presents never wants fresh Charms to move,     }
+  But now more strange, and unknown Pow'r you prove,  }
+  For now your very Absence 'tis I love.              }
+  Something there is which strikes my wandring View,
+  And still before my Eyes I fancy you.
+  Charming you seem, all charming, heavenly fair,  }
+  Bright as a Goddess, does my Love appear,        }
+  You seem, _Belvira_, what indeed you are.        }
+  Like the Angelick Off-spring of the Skies,
+  With beatifick Glories in your Eyes:
+  Sparkling with radiant Lustre all Divine,             }
+  Angels, and Gods! oh Heavens! how bright they shine!  }
+  Are you _Belvira_? can I think you mine!              }
+  Beyond ev'n Thought, I do thy Beauties see,
+  Can such a Heaven of Heavens be kept for me!
+  Oh be assur'd, I shall be ever true,
+  I must----
+  For if I would, I can't be false to you.
+  Oh! how I wish I might no longer stay,       }
+  Tho' I resolve I will no Time delay,         }
+  One Tedious Week, and then I'll fleet away.  }
+  Tho' Love be blind, he shall conduct my Road,  }
+  Wing'd with almighty Love, to your Abode,      }
+  I'll fly, and grow Immortal as a God.          }
+  Short is my stay, yet my impatience strong,
+  Short tho' it is, alas! I think it long.
+  I'll come, my Life, new Blessings to pursue,        }
+  Love then shall fly a Flight he never flew,         }
+  I'll stretch his balmy Wings; I'm yours,--_Adieu_.  }
+
+  _Frankwit._
+
+This Letter _Belvira_ receiv'd with unspeakable Joy, and laid it up
+safely in her Bosom; laid it, where the dear Author of it lay before,
+and wonderfully pleas'd with his Humour of writing Verse, resolv'd not
+to be at all behind-hand with him, and so writ as follows:
+
+  _My dear Charmer,_
+
+  You knew before what Power your Love could boast,
+  But now your constant Faith confirms me most.
+  Absent Sincerity the best assures,              }
+  Love may do much, but Faith much more allures,  }
+  For now your Constancy has bound me yours.      }
+  I find, methinks, in Verse some Pleasure too,
+  I cannot want a Muse, who write to you.
+  Ah! soon return, return, my charming Dear,
+  Heav'n knows how much we Mourn your Absence here:
+  My poor _Celesia_ now would Charm your Soul,
+  Her Eyes, once Blind, do now Divinely rowl.
+  An aged Matron has by Charms unknown,
+  Given her clear Sight as perfect as thy own.
+  And yet, beyond her Eyes, she values thee,
+  'Tis for thy Sake alone she's glad to see.
+  She begg'd me, pray remember her to you,
+  That is a Task which now I gladly do.
+  Gladly, since so I only recommend                }
+  A dear Relation, and a dearer Friend,            }
+  Ne're shall my Love--but here my Note must end.  }
+
+  _Your ever true +Belvira+._
+
+When this Letter was written, it was strait shown to _Celesia_, who
+look'd upon any Thing that belong'd to _Frankwit_, with rejoycing
+Glances; so eagerly she perus'd it, that her tender Eyes beginning to
+Water, she cry'd out, (fancying she saw the Words dance before her View)
+'Ah! Cousin, Cousin, your Letter is running away, sure it can't go
+itself to _Frankwit_.' A great Deal of other pleasing innocent Things
+she said, but still her Eyes flow'd more bright with lustrous Beams, as
+if they were to shine out; now all that glancing Radiancy which had been
+so long kept secret, and, as if, as soon as the Cloud of Blindness once
+was broke, nothing but Lightnings were to flash for ever after. Thus in
+mutual Discourse they spent their Hours, while _Frankwit_ was now
+ravished with the Receipt of this charming Answer of _Belvira's_, and
+blest his own Eyes which discovered to him the much welcome News of fair
+_Celesia's_. Often he read the Letters o're and o're, but there his Fate
+lay hid, for 'twas that very Fondness proved his Ruin. He lodg'd at a
+Cousin's House of his, and there, (it being a private Family) lodged
+likewise a Blackamoor Lady, then a Widower; a whimsical Knight had taken
+a Fancy to enjoy her: _Enjoy her did I say? Enjoy the Devil in the Flesh
+at once!_ I know not how it was, but he would fain have been a Bed with
+her, but she not consenting on unlawful Terms, (_but sure all Terms are
+with her unlawful_) the Knight soon marry'd her, as if there were not
+hell enough in Matrimony, but he must wed the Devil too. The Knight a
+little after died, and left this Lady of his (whom I shall _Moorea_) an
+Estate of six thousand Pounds _per Ann_. Now this _Moorea_ observed the
+joyous _Frankwit_ with an eager Look, her Eyes seemed like Stars of the
+first Magnitude glaring in the Night; she greatly importuned him to
+discover the Occasion of his transport, but he denying it, (as 'tis the
+Humour of our Sex) made her the more Inquisitive; and being Jealous that
+it was from a Mistress, employ'd her Maid to steal it, and if she found
+it such, to bring it her: accordingly it succeeded, for _Frankwit_
+having drank hard with some of the Gentlemen of that Shire, found
+himself indisposed, and soon went to Bed, having put the Letter in his
+Pocket: The Maid therefore to _Moorea_ contrived that all the other
+Servants should be out of the Way, that she might plausibly officiate in
+the Warming the Bed of the indisposed Lover, but likely, had it not been
+so, she had warmed it by his Intreaties in a more natural Manner; he
+being in Bed in an inner Room, she slips out the Letter from his Pocket,
+carries it to her Mistress to read, and so restores it whence she had
+it; in the Morning the poor Lover wakened in a violent Fever, burning
+with a Fire more hot than that of Love. In short, he continued Sick a
+considerable while, all which time the Lady _Moorea_ constantly visited
+him, and he as unwillingly saw her (poor Gentleman) as he would have
+seen a Parson; for as the latter would have perswaded, so the former
+scared him to Repentance. In the mean while, during his sickness,
+several Letters were sent to him by his dear _Belvira_, and _Celesia_
+too, (then learning to write) had made a shift to give him a line or two
+in Postscript with her Cousin, but all was intercepted by the jealousy
+of the Black _Moorea_, black in her mind, and dark, as well as in her
+body. _Frankwit_ too writ several Letters as he was able, complaining of
+her unkindness, those likewise were all stopt by the same Blackmoor
+Devil. At last, it happened that _Wildvill_, (who I told my Reader was
+_Frankwit's_ friend) came to _London_, his Father likewise dead, and now
+Master of a very plentiful fortune, he resolves to marry, and paying a
+visit to _Belvira_, enquires of her concerning _Frankwit_, she all in
+mourning for the loss, told him his friend was dead. 'Ah! _Wildvill_, he
+is dead,' said she, 'and died not mine, a Blackmoor Lady had bewitched
+him from me; I received a Letter lately which informed me all; there was
+no name subscribed to it, but it intimated, that it was written at the
+request of dying _Frankwit_.' 'Oh! I am sorry at my Soul,' said
+_Wildvill_, 'for I loved him with the best, the dearest friendship; no
+doubt then,' rejoyned he, ''tis Witchcaft indeed that could make him
+false to you; what delight could he take in a Blackmoor Lady, tho' she
+had received him at once with a Soul as open as her longing arms, and
+with her Petticoat put off her modesty. Gods! How could he change a
+whole _Field Argent_ into downright _Sables_.' ''Twas done,' returned
+_Celesia_, 'with no small blot, I fancy, to the Female 'Scutcheon.' In
+short, after some more discourse, but very sorrowful, _Wildvill_ takes
+his leave, extreamly taken with the fair _Belvira_, more beauteous in
+her cloud of woe; he paid her afterwards frequent visits, and found her
+wonder for the odd inconstancy of _Frankwit_, greater than her sorrow,
+since he dy'd so unworthy of her. _Wildvill_ attack'd her with all the
+force of vigorous love, and she (as she thought) fully convinc'd of
+_Frankwit's_ death, urg'd by the fury and impatience of her new ardent
+Lover, soon surrender'd, and the day of their Nuptials now arriv'd,
+their hands were joyn'd. In the mean time _Frankwit_ (for he still
+liv'd) knew nothing of the Injury the base _Moorea_ practis'd, knew not
+that 'twas thro' her private order, that the fore-mention'd account of
+his falshood and his death was sent; but impatient to see his Dear
+_Belvira_, tho' yet extremely weak, rid post to _London_, and that very
+day arriv'd there, immediately after the Nuptials of his Mistress and
+his Friend were celebrated. I was at this time in _Cambridge_, and
+having some small acquaintance with this Blackmoor Lady, and sitting in
+her Room that evening, after _Frankwit's_ departure thence, in
+_Moorea's_ absence, saw inadvertently a bundle of Papers, which she had
+gathered up, as I suppose, to burn, since now they grew but useless, she
+having no farther Hopes of him: I fancy'd I knew the Hand, and thence my
+Curiosity only led me to see the Name and finding _Belvira_ subscrib'd,
+I began to guess there was some foul play in Hand. _Belvira_ being my
+particularly intimate Acquaintance, I read one of them, and finding the
+Contents, convey'd them all secretly out with me, as I thought, in Point
+of Justice I was bound, and sent them to _Belvira_ by that Night's Post;
+so that they came to her Hands soon after the Minute of her Marriage,
+with an Account how, and by what Means I came to light on them. No doubt
+but they exceedingly surpriz'd her: But Oh! Much more she grew amaz'd
+immediately after, to see the Poor, and now unhappy _Frankwit_, who
+privately had enquir'd for her below, being received as a Stranger, who
+said he had some urgent Business with her, in a back Chamber below
+Stairs. What Tongue, what Pen can express the mournful Sorrow of this
+Scene! At first they both stood Dumb, and almost Senseless; she took him
+for the Ghost of _Frankwit_; he looked so pale, new risen from his
+Sickness, he (for he had heard at his Entrance in the House, that his
+_Belvira_ marry'd _Wildvill_) stood in Amaze, and like a Ghost indeed,
+wanted the Power to speak, till spoken to the first. At last, he draws
+his Sword, designing there to fall upon it in her Presence; she then
+imagining it his Ghost too sure, and come to kill her, shrieks out and
+Swoons; he ran immediately to her, and catch'd her in his Arms, and
+while he strove to revive and bring her to herself, tho' that he thought
+could never now be done, since she was marry'd. _Wildvill_ missing his
+Bride, and hearing the loud Shriek, came running down, and entring the
+Room, sees his Bride lie clasp'd in _Frankwit's_ Arms. 'Ha! Traytor!' He
+cries out, drawing his Sword with an impatient Fury, 'have you kept that
+Strumpet all this while, curst _Frankwit_, and now think fit to put your
+damn'd cast Mistress upon me: could not you forbear her neither ev'n on
+my Wedding Day? abominable Wretch!' Thus saying, he made a full Pass at
+_Frankwit_, and run him thro' the left Arm, and quite thro' the Body of
+the poor _Belvira_; that thrust immediately made her start, tho'
+_Frankwit's_ Endeavours all before were useless. Strange! that her Death
+reviv'd her! For ah! she felt, that now she only liv'd to die! Striving
+thro' wild Amazement to run from such a Scene of Horror, as her
+Apprehensions shew'd her; down she dropt, and _Frankwit_ seeing her
+fall, (all Friendship disannull'd by such a Chain of Injuries) Draws,
+fights with, and stabs his own loved _Wildvill_. Ah! Who can express the
+Horror and Distraction of this fatal Misunderstanding! The House was
+alarm'd, and in came poor _Celesia_, running in Confusion just as
+_Frankwit_ was off'ring to kill himself, to die with a false Friend, and
+perjur'd Mistress, for he suppos'd them such. Poor _Celesia_ now
+bemoan'd her unhappiness of sight, and wish'd she again were blind.
+_Wildvill_ dy'd immediately, and _Belvira_ only surviv'd him long enough
+to unfold all their most unhappy fate, desiring _Frankwit_ with her
+dying breath, if ever he lov'd her, (and now she said that she deserv'd
+his love, since she had convinced him that she was not false) to marry
+her poor dear _Celesia_, and love her tenderly for her _Belvira's_ sake;
+leaving her, being her nearest Relation, all her fortune, and he, much
+dearer than it all, to be added to her own; so joyning his and
+_Celesia's_ Hands, she poured her last breath upon his Lips, and said,
+'Dear _Frankwit_, _Frankwit_, I die yours.' With tears and wondrous
+sorrow he promis'd to obey her Will, and in some months after her
+interrment, he perform'd his promise.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unfortunate Bride.
+
+
+p. 401 _To Richard Norton._ This Epistle Dedicatory is only to be found
+in the first edition of _The Unfortunate Bride; or, The Blind Lady a
+Beauty_, 'Printed for Samuel Briscoe, in Charles-Street, Covent-Garden,
+1698', and also dated, on title page facing the portrait of Mrs. Behn,
+1700.
+
+Southwick, Hants, is a parish and village some 1-3/4 miles from
+Portchester, 4-1/2 from Fareham. Richard Norton was son and heir of Sir
+Daniel Norton, who died seised of the manor in 1636. Richard Norton
+married Anne, daughter of Sir William Earle, by whom he had one child,
+Sarah. He was, in his county at least, a figure of no little importance.
+Tuesday, 12 August, 1701, Luttrell records that 'an addresse from the
+grand jury of Hampshire . . . was delivered by Richard Norton and
+Anthony Henly, esqs. to the lords justices, to be laid before his
+majestie.' He aimed at being a patron of the fine arts, and under his
+superintendence Dryden's _The Spanish Friar_ was performed in the frater
+of Southwick Priory,[1] the buildings of which had not been entirely
+destroyed at the suppression. Colley Cibber addresses the Dedicatory
+Epistle (January, 1695) of his first play, _Love's Last Shift_ (4to,
+1696), to Norton in a highly eulogistic strain. The plate of Southwick
+Church (S. James), consisting of a communion cup, a standing paten, two
+flagons, an alms-dish, and a rat-tail spoon, is silver-gilt, and was
+presented by Richard Norton in 1691. He died 10 December, 1732.
+
+    [Footnote 1: The house was one of Black (Austin) Canons.]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE DUMB VIRGIN; OR, THE FORCE OF IMAGINATION.
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so romantically
+and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt with in happier
+mood by Mrs. Behn in _The Dutch Lover_. _Vide_ Note on the Source of
+that play, Vol. I, p. 218.
+
+In classic lore the OEdipus Saga enthralled the imagination of antiquity
+and inspired dramas amongst the world's masterpieces. Later forms of the
+tale may be found in Suidas and Cedrenus.
+
+The Legend of St. Gregory, based on a similar theme, the hero of which,
+however, is innocent throughout, was widely diffused through mediaeval
+Europe. It forms No. 81 of the _Gesta Romanorum_. There is an old
+English poem[1] on the subject, and it also received lyric treatment at
+the hands of the German meistersinger, Hartmann von Aue. An Italian
+story, _Il Figliuolo di germani_, the chronicle of St. Albinus, and the
+Servian romaunt of the Holy Foundling Simeon embody similar
+circumstances.
+
+Matteo Bandello, Part II, has a famous[2] novel (35) with rubric, 'un
+gentiluomo navarrese sposa una, che era sua sorella e figliuola, non lo
+sapendo,' which is almost exactly the same as the thirtieth story of the
+_Heptameron_. As the good Bishop declares that it was related to him by
+a lady living in the district, it is probable that some current
+tradition furnished both him and the Queen of Navarre with these
+horrible incidents and that neither copied from the other.[3]
+
+Bandello was imitated in Spanish by J. Perez de Montalvan, _Sucesos y
+Prodigios de Amor--La Mayor confusion_; in Latin by D. Otho Melander;
+and he also gave Desfontaines the subject of _L'Inceste Innocent;
+Histoire Veritable_ (Paris, 1644). A similar tale is touched upon in
+_Amadis de Gaule_, and in a later century we find _Le Criminel sans le
+Savoir, Roman Historique et Poetique_ (Amsterdam and Paris, 1783). It
+is also found in Brevio's _Rime e Prose_; Volgari, novella iv; and in
+T. Grapulo (or Grappolino), _Il Convito Borghesiano_ (Londra, 1800).
+A cognate legend is _Le Dit du Buef_ and _Le Dit de la Bourjosee de
+Rome_. (ed. Jubinal, _Nouveau Recueil_; and _Nouveau Recueil du Senateur
+de Rome . . ._ ed. Meon.) Again: the _Leggenda di Vergogna, etc. testi
+del buon secolo in prosa e in verso_, edited by A. D'Ancona (Bologna,
+1869) repeats the same catastrophe. It is also related in Byshop's
+_Blossoms_.
+
+In Luther's _Colloquia Mensalia_, under the article 'Auricular
+Confession', the occurrence is said to have taken place at Erfurt in
+Germany. Julio de Medrano, a Spanish writer of the sixteenth century,
+says that a similar story was related to him when he was in the
+Bourbonnois, where the inhabitants pointed out the house which had been
+the scene of these morbid passions. France, indeed, seems to have been
+the home of the tradition, and Le Roux de Lincy in the notes to his
+excellent edition of the _Heptameron_ quotes from Millin, _Antiquites
+Nationales_ (t. iii. f. xxviii. p. 6.) who, speaking of the Collegiate
+Church of Ecouis, says that in the midst of the nave there was a
+prominent white marbel tablet with this epitaph:--
+
+  Cy-gist la fille, cy-gist le pere,
+  Cy-gist la soeur, cy-gist le frere;
+  Cy-gist la femme, et le mary,
+  Et si n'y a que deux corps icy.
+
+The tradition ran that a son of 'Madame d'Ecouis avait eu de sa mere
+sans la connaitre et sans en etre reconnu une fille nommee Cecile. Il
+epousa ensuite en Lorraine cette meme Cecile qui etait aupres de la
+Duchesse de Bar . . . Il furent enterres dans le meme tombeau en 1512 a
+Ecouis.' An old sacristan used to supply curious visitors to the church
+with a leaflet detailing the narrative. The same story is attached to
+other parishes, and at Alincourt, a village between Amiens and
+Abbeville, the following lines are inscribed upon a grave:--
+
+  Ci git le fils, ci git la mere,
+  Ci git la fille avec le pere,
+  Ci git la soeur, ci git le frere,
+  Ci git la femme et le mari,
+  Et ne sont pas que trois corps ici.
+
+When Walpole wrote his tragedy, _The Mysterious Mother_ (1768), he
+states he had no knowledge of Bandello or the _Heptameron_, but he gives
+the following account of the origin of his theme. 'I had heard when very
+young, that a gentlewoman, under uncommon agonies of mind, had waited on
+Archbishop Tillotson and besought his counsel. A damsel that served her
+had, many years before, acquainted her that she was importuned by the
+gentlewoman's son to grant him a private meeting. The mother ordered the
+maiden to make the assignation, when she said she would discover herself
+and reprimand him for his criminal passion; but, being hurried away by a
+much more criminal passion herself, she kept the assignation without
+discovering herself. The fruit of this horrid artifice was a daughter,
+whom the gentlewoman caused to be educated very privately in the
+country; but proving very lovely and being accidentally met by her
+father-brother, who never had the slightest suspicion of the truth, he
+had fallen in love with and actually married her. The wretched guilty
+mother learning what had happened, and distracted with the consequence
+of her crime, had now resorted to the Archbishop to know in what manner
+she should act. The prelate charged her never to let her son and
+daughter know what had passed, as they were innocent of any criminal
+intention. For herself, he bad her almost despair.'
+
+The same story occurs in the writings of the famous Calvinistic divine,
+William Perkins (1558-1602), sometime Rector of St. Andrew's, Cambridge.
+Thence it was extracted for _The Spectator_.
+
+In Mat Lewis' ghoulish romance, _The Monk_ (1796) it will be remembered
+that Ambrosio, after having enjoyed Antonia, to whose bedchamber he has
+gained admittance by demoniacal aid, discovers that she is his sister,
+and heaping crime upon crime to sorcery and rape he has added incest.
+
+There is a tragic little novel, '_The Illegal Lovers; a True Secret
+History._ Being an Amour Between A Person of Condition and his Sister.
+Written by One who did reside in the Family.' (8vo, 1728.) After the
+death of his wife, Bellario falls in love with his sister Lindamira.
+Various sentimental letters pass between the two, and eventually
+Bellario in despair pistols himself. The lady lives to wed another
+admirer. The tale was obviously suggested by the _Love Letters between a
+Nobleman and his Sister_.
+
+    [Footnote 1: There are three MSS. _Vernon MS._, Oxford, edited by
+    Horstmann; _MS. Cott_, _Cleop. D. ix_, British Museum; _Auchinleck
+    MS._, Advocates' Library, Edinburgh, edited with glossary by
+    F. Schultz, 1876.]
+
+    [Footnote 2: cf. Masuccio. _Il Novellino_, No. 23.]
+
+    [Footnote 3: Bandello's novels first appeared at Lucca, 4to, 1554.
+    Marguerite of Angouleme died 21 December, 1549. The _Heptameron_
+    was composed 1544-8 and published 1558.]
+
+
+
+
+THE DUMB VIRGIN: or, the Force of Imagination.
+
+
+_Rinaldo_, a Senator of the great City _Venice_, by a plentiful
+Inheritance, and industrious Acquisitions, was become Master of a very
+plentiful Estate; which, by the Countenance of his Family, sprung from
+the best Houses in _Italy_, had rendred him extreamly popular and
+honoured; he had risen to the greatest Dignities of that State, all
+which Offices he discharged with Wisdom and Conduct, befitting the
+Importance of his Charge, and Character of the Manager; but this great
+Person had some Accident in his Children, sufficient to damp all the
+Pleasure of his more smiling Fortunes; he married when young,
+a beautiful and virtuous Lady, who had rendred him the happy Father of a
+Son; but his Joys were soon disturbed by the following Occasion.
+
+There stands an Island in the _Adriatick_ Sea, about twenty Leagues from
+_Venice_, a Place wonderfully pleasant in the Summer, where Art and
+Nature seem to out-rival each other, or seem rather to combine in
+rendring it the most pleasant of their products; being placed under the
+most benign climate in the World, and situated exactly between _Italy_
+and _Greece_, it appears an entire Epitome of all the Pleasures in them
+both; the proper glories of the Island were not a little augmented by
+the confluence of Gentlemen and Ladies of the chiefest Rank in the City,
+insomuch that this was a greater mark for Beauty and Gallantry, than
+_Venice_ for Trade. Among others _Rinaldo's_ Lady begged her Husband's
+permission to view this so much celebrated place.
+
+He was unwilling to trust his treasure to the treachery of the watry
+element; but repeating her request, he yielded to her desires, his love
+not permitting him the least shew of command, and so thro' its extent,
+conspiring its own destruction. His Lady with her young Son (whom she
+would not trust from her sight) and a splendid attendance in a Barge
+well fitted, sets out for the Island, _Rinaldo_ being detained at home
+himself about some important affairs relating to the publick, committed
+the care of his dear Wife and Child to a faithful Servant call'd
+_Gaspar_; and for their greater security against Pyrates, had obtained
+his Brother, who commanded a _Venetian_ Galley, to attend them as
+Convoy. In the evening they set out from _Venice_, with a prosperous
+gale, but a storm arising in the night, soon separated the Barge from
+her Convoy, and before morning drove her beyond the designed Port, when,
+instead of discovering the wish'd-for Island, they could see a _Turkish_
+Pyrate bearing towards them, with all her Sail; their late apprehensions
+of Shipwrack, were drowned in the greater danger of Captivity and
+lasting Slavery, their fears drove some into resolutions as extravagant
+as the terrors that caused them, but the confusion of all was so
+tumultuous, and the designs so various, that nothing could be put in
+execution for the publick safety; the greatest share of the passengers
+being Ladies, added strangely to the consternation; beauty always adds a
+pomp to woe, and by its splendid show, makes sorrow look greater and
+more moving. Some by their piteous plaints and wailings proclaimed their
+griefs aloud, whilst others bespoke their sorrows more emphatically by
+sitting mournfully silent; the fears of some animated them to
+extravagant actions, whilst the terrors of others were so mortifying,
+that they shewed no sign of Life, but by their trembling; some mourned
+the rigour of their proper fate, others conscious of the sorrows their
+Friends and Relations should sustain through their loss, made the griefs
+of them their own; but the heaviest load of misfortunes lay on
+_Rinaldo's_ Lady, besides the loss of her liberty, the danger of her
+honour, the separation from her dear Husband, the care for her tender
+Infant wrought rueful distractions; she caught her Child in her Arms,
+and with Tears extorted thro' Fear and Affection, she deplor'd the
+Misfortune of her Babe, the pretty Innocent smiling in the Embraces of
+its Mother, shew'd that Innocence cou'd deride the Persecution of
+Fortune; at length she delivered the Infant into the Hand of _Gasper_,
+begging him to use all Endeavours in its Preservation, by owning it for
+his, when they fell into the Hands of the Enemy.
+
+But _Gasper_, who amidst the universal Consternation, had a peculiar
+Regard to his own Safety, and Master's Interest, undertook a Design
+desperately brave. Two long Planks, which lay lengthwise in the Barge,
+as Seats, he had ty'd together with Ropes, and taking the Infant from
+the Mother, whilst the whole Vessel was in a distracted Confusion, he
+fast'ned it to the Planks, and shoving both over-board before him,
+plung'd into the Sea after, dragging the Planks that bore the Infant
+with one Hand, and swimming with t'other, making the next Land; he had
+swam about two hundred Paces from the Barge before his Exploit was
+discover'd, but then the Griefs of _Rinaldo's_ Lady were doubly
+augmented, seeing her Infant expos'd to the Fury of the merciless Winds
+and Waves, which she then judged more rigorous than the _Turks_; for to
+a weak Mind, that Danger works still the strongest, that's most in View;
+but when the Pirate, who by this time had fetch'd them within Shot,
+began to Fire, she seem'd pleas'd that her Infant was out of that
+Hazard, tho' exposed to a greater. Upon their Sign of yielding, the
+_Turk_ launching out her Boat, brought them all on board her; but she
+had no time to examine her Booty, being saluted by a Broadside,
+vigorously discharg'd from a _Venetian_ Galley, which bore down upon
+them, whilst they were taking aboard their Spoil; this Galley was that
+commanded by _Rinaldo's_ Brother, which cruising that Way in quest of
+the Barge, happily engag'd the _Turk_, before they had Leisure to offer
+any Violence to the Ladies, and plying her warmly the Space of two
+Hours, made her a Prize, to the inexpressible Joy of the poor Ladies,
+who all this time under Hatches, had sustain'd the Horrors of ten
+thousand Deaths by dreading one.
+
+All the greater Dangers over, _Rinaldo's_ Lady began to reflect on the
+strange Riddle of her Son's Fortune, who by shunning one Fate, had
+(in all Probability) fallen into a worse, for they were above ten
+Leagues from any Land, and the Sea still retain'd a Roughness, unsettled
+since the preceeding Storm; she therefore begg'd her Brother-in-Law to
+Sail with all Speed in Search of her Son and _Gasper_; but all in vain,
+for cruising that Day, and the succeeding Night along the Coasts,
+without making any Discovery of what they sought, he sent a Boat to be
+inform'd by the Peasants, of any such Landing upon their Coast; but they
+soon had a dismal Account, finding the Body of _Gasper_ thrown dead on
+the Sand, and near to him the Planks, the unhappy Occasion of his
+Flight, and the Faithless Sustainers of the Infant. So thinking these
+mournful Objects Testimonies enough of the Infant's Loss, they return'd
+with the doleful Relation to their Captain and the Lady; her Grief at
+the recital of the Tragic Story, had almost transported her to Madness;
+what Account must she now make to the mournful Father, who esteem'd this
+Child the chief Treasure of his Life; she fear'd, that she might forfeit
+the Affection of a Husband, by being the unfortunate Cause of so great a
+Loss; but her Fears deceiv'd her, for altho' her Husband, receiv'd her
+with great Grief, 'twas nevertheless moderated by the Patience of a
+Christian, and the Joy for recovering his beloved Lady.
+
+This Misfortune was soon lessen'd by the growing Hopes of another
+Off-spring, which made them divest their Mourning, to make Preparations
+for the joyful Reception of this new Guest into the World; and upon its
+Appearance their Sorrows were redoubled, 'twas a Daughter, its Limbs
+were distorted, its Back bent, and tho' the face was the freest from
+Deformity, yet had it no Beauty to Recompence the Dis-symetry of the
+other Parts; Physicians being consulted in this Affair, derived the
+Cause from the Frights and dismal Apprehensions of the Mother, at her
+being taken by the Pyrates; about which time they found by Computation,
+the Conception of the Child to be; the Mother grew very Melancholy,
+rarely speaking, and not to be comforted by any Diversion. She conceiv'd
+again, but no hopes of better Fortune cou'd decrease her Grief, which
+growing with her Burden, eased her of both at once, for she died in
+Child-birth, and left the most beautiful Daughter to the World that ever
+adorn'd _Venice_, but naturally and unfortunately Dumb, which defect the
+learn'd attributed to the Silence and Melancholy of the Mother, as the
+Deformity of the other was to the Extravagance of her Frights.
+
+_Rinaldo_, waving all Intentions of a second Marriage, directs his
+Thoughts to the Care of his Children, their Defects not lessening his
+Inclination, but stirring up his Endeavours in supplying the Defaults of
+Nature by the Industry of Art; he accordingly makes the greatest
+Provision for their Breeding and Education, which prov'd so effectual in
+a little Time, that their Progress was a greater Prodigy than
+themselves.
+
+The Eldest, called _Belvideera_, was indefatigably addicted to Study,
+which she had improv'd so far, that by the sixteenth Year of her Age,
+she understood all the _European_ Languages, and cou'd speak most of'em,
+but was particularly pleas'd with the _English_, which gave me the
+Happiness of many Hours Conversation with her; and I may ingenuously
+declare, 'twas the most Pleasant I ever enjoy'd, for besides a piercing
+Wit, and depth of Understanding peculiar to herself, she delivered her
+Sentiments with that easiness and grace of Speech, that it charm'd all
+her Hearers.
+
+The Beauties of the second Sister, nam'd _Maria_, grew with her Age,
+every twelve Months saluting her with a New-years Gift of some peculiar
+Charm; her Shapes were fine set off with a graceful and easy Carriage;
+the Majesty and Softness of her Face, at once wrought Love and
+Veneration; the Language of her Eyes sufficiently paid the Loss of her
+Tongue, and there was something so Commanding in her Look, that it
+struck every Beholder as dumb as herself; she was a great Proficient in
+Painting, which puts me in mind of a notable Story I can't omit; her
+Father had sent for the most Famous Painter in _Italy_ to draw her
+Picture, she accordingly sat for it; he had drawn some of the Features
+of her Face; and coming to the Eye, desired her to give him as brisk and
+piercing a Glance as she cou'd; but the Vivacity of her Look so
+astonished the Painter, that thro' concern he let his Pencil drop and
+spoiled the Picture; he made a second Essay, but with no better Success,
+for rising in great Disorder, he swore it impossible to draw that which
+he cou'd not look upon; the Lady vexed at the Weakness of the Painter,
+took up his Pencils and the Picture, and sitting down to her Glass,
+finished it herself; she had improv'd her silent Conversation with her
+Sister so far, that she was understood by her, as if she had spoke, and
+I remember this Lady was the first I saw use the significative Way of
+Discourse by the Fingers; I dare not say 'twas she invented it (tho' it
+probably might have been an Invention of these ingenious Sisters) but I
+am positive none before her ever brought it to that Perfection.
+
+In the seventeenth of _Belvideera's_, and sixteenth Year of _Maria's_
+Age, _Francisco_, Brother to _Rinaldo_, was made Admiral of the
+_Venetian_ Fleet, and upon his first Entrance upon his Command, had
+obtained a signal Victory over the _Turks_; he returning to _Venice_
+with Triumph, applause and spoil, presented to the great Duke a young
+_English_ Gentleman, who only as a Volunteer in the Action, had
+signalized himself very bravely in the Engagement, but particularly by
+first boarding the _Turkish_ Admiral Galley, and killing her Commander
+hand to hand; the Fame of this Gentleman soon spread over all _Venice_,
+and the two Sisters sent presently for me, to give an Account of the
+Exploits of my Countryman, as their Unkle had recounted it to them;
+I was pleas'd to find so great an Example of _English_ Bravery, so far
+from Home, and long'd extreamly to converse with him, vainly flattering
+myself, that he might have been of my Acquaintance. That very Night
+there was a grand Ball and Masquerade at the great Duke's Palace, for
+the most signal Joy of the late Success, thither _Belvideera_ invited me
+to Accompany her and _Maria_, adding withal as a Motive, that we might
+there most probably meet, and Discourse with this young Hero; and
+equipping me with a Suit of Masquerade, they carried me in their Coach
+to the Ball, where we had pass'd half an Hour, when I saw enter a
+handsom Gentleman in a rich _English_ Dress; I show'd him to
+_Belvideera_, who moving towards him, with a gallant Air, slaps him on
+the Shoulder with her Fan, he turning about, and viewing her Person, the
+Defaults of which were not altogether hidden by her Disguise; 'Sir,
+(said he) if you are a Man, know that I am one, and will not bear
+Impertinence; but, if you are a Lady, Madam, as I hope in Heavens you
+are not, I must inform you, that I am under a Vow, not to converse with
+any Female to Night;' 'Know then, Sir, (answered _Belvideera_ very
+smartly) that I am a Female, and you have broke your Vow already; but
+methinks, Sir, the Ladies are very little oblig'd to your Vow, which
+wou'd rob them of the Conversation of so fine a Gentleman.'
+
+'Madam, (said the Gentleman) the Sweetness of your Voice bespeaks you a
+Lady, and I hope the breaking my Vow will be so far from Damning me,
+that I shall thereby merit Heaven, if I may be blest in your Divine
+Conversation.' _Belvideera_ made such ingenious and smart Repartees to
+the Gentleman, who was himself a great Courtier, that he was entirely
+captivated with her Wit, insomuch, that he cou'd not refrain making
+Protestations of his Passion; he talked about half an Hour in such pure
+_Italian_, that I began to mistrust my _Englishman_, wherefore taking
+some Occasion to jest upon his Habit, I found 'twas only a Masquerade to
+cloak a down-right _Venetian_; in the mean Time, we perceiv'd a
+Gentleman Gallantly attir'd with no Disguise but a _Turkish_ Turbant on,
+the richliest beset with Jewels I ever saw; he addressed _Maria_ with
+all the Mien and Air of the finest Courtier; he had talked to her a good
+while before we heard him, but then _Belvideera_, knowing her poor
+Sister uncapable of any Defence, 'Sir, (said she to the _Venetian_,)
+yonder is a Lady of my Acquaintance, who lies under a Vow of Silence as
+you were, I must therefore beg your Pardon, and fly to her Relief': 'She
+can never be conquer'd, who has such a Champion,' (reply'd the
+Gentleman) upon which _Belvideera_ turning from him, interpos'd between
+the Gentleman and her Sister, saying, 'This Lady, Sir, is under an
+Obligation of Silence, as a Penance imposed by her Father-Confessor.'
+'Madam, (reply'd the Gentleman) whoever impos'd Silence on these fair
+Lips, is guilty of a greater Offence than any, such a fair Creature
+cou'd commit.' 'Why, Sir, (said _Belvideera_) have you seen the Lady's
+Beauty': 'Yes, Madam, (answer'd he) for urging her to talk, which I
+found she declin'd, I promis'd to disengage her from any farther
+Impertinence, upon a Sight of her Face; she agreed by paying the Price
+of her Liberty, which was ransom enough for any Thing under Heavens, but
+her fair Company'; he spoke in an Accent that easily shew'd him a
+Stranger; which _Belvideera_ laying hold of, as an Occasion of Railery,
+'Sir, (said she,) your Tongue pronounces you a great Stranger in this
+Part of the World, I hope you are not what that Turbant represents;
+perhaps, Sir, you think your self in the Seraglio'; 'Madam,
+(reply'd he,) this Turbant might have been in the _Turkish_ Seraglio,
+but never in so fair a one as this; and this Turbant (taking it off) is
+now to be laid at the Foot of some Christian Lady, for whose safety, and
+by whose protecting Influence, I had the Happiness to win it from the
+Captain of the _Turkish_ Admiral Galley.' We were all surpriz'd, knowing
+him then the young _English_ Gentleman, we were so curious of seeing;
+_Belvideera_ presently talk'd _English_ to him, and made him some very
+pretty Complements upon his Victory, which so charm'd the young Soldier,
+that her Tongue claim'd an equal Share in his Heart with _Maria's_ Eyes;
+'Madam, (said he to her) if you have the Beauty of that Lady, or if she
+has your Wit, I am the most happy, or the most unfortunate Man alive.'
+'Sir,' said the _Venetian_ coming up, 'pray give me leave to share in
+your Misfortunes.' 'Sir, (said _Belvideera_ very smartly) you must share
+in his good Fortunes, and learn to conquer Men, before you have the
+Honour of being subdu'd by Ladies, we scorn mean Prizes, Sir.' 'Madam,
+(said the _Venetian_ in some Choler) perhaps I can subdue a Rival.'
+'Pray, Sir, (said the Stranger) don't be angry with the Lady, she's not
+your Rival I hope, Sir.' Said the _Venetian_, 'I can't be angry at the
+Lady, because I love her; but my Anger must be levell'd at him, who
+after this Declaration dare own a Passion for her.' 'Madam, (said the
+_English_ Gentleman turning from the _Venetian_) Honour now must extort
+a Confession from me, which the Awfulness of my Passion durst never have
+own'd: And I must declare,' added he in a louder Voice, 'to all the
+World, that I love you, lest this Gentleman shou'd think his Threats
+forc'd me to disown it.' 'O! then (said _Belvideera_) you're his Rival
+in Honour, not in Love.' 'In honourable Love I am, Madam,' answer'd the
+Stranger. 'I'll try,' (said the _Venetian_, going off in Choler,) he
+Whisper'd a little to a Gentleman, that stood at some Distance, and
+immediately went out; this was _Gonzago_, a Gentleman of good Reputation
+in _Venice_, his Principles were Honour and Gallantry, but the Former
+often sway'd by Passions, rais'd by the Latter. All this while, _Maria_
+and I were admiring the Stranger, whose Person was indeed wonderfully
+Amiable; his Motions were exact, yet free and unconstrain'd; the Tone of
+his Voice carried a sweet Air of Modesty in it, yet were all his
+Expressions manly; and to summ up all, he was as fine an _English_
+Gentleman, as I ever saw Step in the _Mall_.
+
+Poor _Maria_ never before envied her Sister the Advantage of Speech, or
+never deplor'd the Loss of her own with more Regret, she found something
+so Sweet in the Mien, Person, and Discourse of this Stranger, that her
+Eyes felt a dazling Pleasure in beholding him, and like flattering
+Mirrours represented every Action and Feature, with some heightning
+Advantage to her Imagination: _Belvideera_ also had some secret Impulses
+of Spirit, which drew her insensibly into a great Esteem of the
+Gentleman; she ask'd him, by what good Genius, propitious to _Venice_,
+he was induced to Live so remote from his Country; he said, that he
+cou'd not imploy his Sword better than against the common Foe of
+Christianity; and besides, there was a peculiar Reason, which prompted
+him to serve there, which Time cou'd only make known. I made bold to ask
+him some peculiar Questions, about Affairs at Court, to most of which he
+gave Answers, that shew'd his Education liberal, and himself no Stranger
+to Quality; he call'd himself _Dangerfield_, which was a Name that so
+pleas'd me, that being since satisfied it was a Counterfeit, I us'd it
+in a Comedy of mine: We had talk'd 'till the greater Part of the Company
+being dispers'd, _Dangerfield_ begg'd Leave to attend us to our Coach,
+and waiting us to the Door, the Gentleman, whom _Gonzago_ whisper'd,
+advanc'd and offer'd his Service to hand _Maria_; she declin'd it, and
+upon his urging, she turn'd to the other Side of _Dangerfield_, who, by
+this Action of the Ladies finding himself intitled to her Protection,
+'Sir, (said he) Favours from great Beauties, as from great Monarchs,
+must flow Voluntarily, not by Constraint, and whosoever wou'd extort
+from either, are liable to the great Severity of Punishment.' 'Oh! Sir,
+(reply'd the _Venetian_ very arrogantly,) I understand not your
+Monarchy, we live here under a free State; besides, Sir, where there is
+no Punishment to be dreaded, the Law will prove of little Force; and so,
+Sir, by your Leave,' offering to push him aside, and lay hold on the
+Lady. _Dangerfield_ returned the Justle so vigorously, that the
+_Venetian_ fell down the Descent of some Stairs at the Door, and broke
+his Sword: _Dangerfield_ leap'd down after him, to prosecute his
+Chastizement, but seeing his Sword broken, only whisper'd him, that if
+he wou'd meet him next Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St. _Mark's_
+Church, he wou'd satisfie him for the Loss of his Sword; upon which, the
+_Venetian_ immediately went off, cursing his ill Fate, that prevented
+his quarrelling with _Dangerfield_, to whom he had born a grudging Envy
+ever since his Success in the late Engagement, and of whom, and his
+Lodgings, he had given _Gonzago_ an Account, when he whisper'd him at
+the Ball. _Dangerfield_ left us full of his Praises, and went home to
+his Lodgings, where he found a Note directed to him to this Effect:
+
+  SIR,
+
+  _You declared Publickly at the Ball, you were my Rival in Love and
+  Honour: If you dare prove it by Maintaining it, I shall be to morrow
+  Morning at Six, at the Back-part of St. +Mark's+ Church, where I
+  shall be ready to fall a Sacrifice to both._
+
+  Gonzago.
+
+_Dangerfield_, on the Perusal of this Challenge, began to reflect on
+the Strangeness of that Evening's Adventure, which had engag'd him
+in a Passion for two Mistresses, and involv'd him in two Duels;
+and whether the Extravagance of his Passion, or the Oddness of his
+Fighting-Appointments, were most remarkable, he found hard to Determine;
+his Love was divided between the Beauty of one Lady, and Wit of another,
+either of which he loved passionately, yet nothing cou'd satisfy him,
+but the Possibility of enjoying both. He had appointed the Gentleman at
+the Ball to meet him at the same Time and Place, which _Gonzago's_
+Challenge to him imported; this Disturbance employed his Thought till
+Morning, when rising and dressing himself very richly, he walked to the
+appointed Place. _Erizo_, who was the Gentleman whose Sword he had
+broke, was in the Place before him; and _Gonzago_ entered at the same
+Time with him. _Erizo_, was surprized to see _Gonzago_, as much as he
+was to find _Erizo_ there. 'I don't remember, Friend (said _Gonzago_)
+that I desired your Company here this Morning.' 'As much as I expected
+yours,' answered _Erizo_. 'Come, Gentlemen, (said _Dangerfield_,
+interrupting them) I must fight you both, it seems: which shall I
+dispatch first?' 'Sir, (said _Erizo_) you challeng'd me, and therefore I
+claim your Promise.' 'Sir, (reply'd _Gonzago_) he must require the same
+of me first, as I challenged him.' Said _Erizo_, 'the Affront I received
+was unpardonable, and therefore I must fight him first, lest if he fall
+by your Hands, I be depriv'd of my Satisfaction.' 'Nay (reply'd
+_Gonzago_) my Love and Honour being laid at Stake, first claims his
+Blood; and therefore, Sir, (continued he to _Dangerfield_) defend
+yourself.' 'Hold (said _Erizo_ interposing,) if you thrust home, you
+injure me, your Friend.' 'You have forfeited that title, (said _Gonzago_
+all in Choler,) and therefore if you stand not aside, I'll push at you.'
+'Thrust home then, (said _Erizo_) and take what follows.' They
+immediately assaulted each other vigorously. 'Hold, Gentlemen, (said
+_Dangerfield_ striking down their Swords) by righting your selves you
+injure me, robbing me of that Satisfaction, which you both owe me, and
+therefore, Gentlemen, you shall fight me, before any private Quarrel
+among your selves defraud me of my Revenge, and so one or both of you,'
+thrusting first at _Erizo_. 'I'm your Man,' (said _Gonzago_) parrying
+the Thrust made at _Erizo_. The Clashing of so many Swords alarm'd some
+Gentlemen at their _Mattins_ in the Church, among whom was _Rinaldo_,
+who since the Death of his Wife, had constantly attended Morning-Service
+at the Church, wherein she was buried. He with Two or Three more, upon
+the Noise ran out, and parting the three Combatants, desired to know the
+Occasion of their Promiscuous Quarrel. _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ knowing
+_Rinaldo_, gave him an Account of the Matter, as also who the Stranger
+was. _Rinaldo_ was overjoy'd to find the brave _Britain_, whom he had
+received so great a Character of, from his Brother the Admiral, and
+accosting him very Courteously, 'Sir, (said he) I am sorry our
+Countrymen shou'd be so Ungrateful as to Injure any Person, who has been
+so Serviceable to the State; and pray, Gentlemen, (added he, addressing
+the other two) be intreated to suspend your Animosities, and come Dine
+with me at my House, where I hope to prevail with you to end your
+Resentments.' _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ hearing him Compliment the Stranger
+at their Expence, told him in a Rage, they wou'd chuse some other Place
+than his House, to end their Resentments in, and walk'd off.
+_Dangerfield_, on _Rinaldo's_ farther Request, accompanied him to his
+House.
+
+_Maria_ had newly risen, and with her Night-gown only thrown loose about
+her, had look'd out of the Window, just as her Father and _Dangerfield_
+were approaching the Gate, at the same Instant she cast her Eyes upon
+_Dangerfield_, and he accidentally look'd up to the Window where she
+stood, their Surprize was mutual, but that of _Dangerfield_ the greater;
+he saw such an amazing Sight of Beauty, as made him doubt the Reality of
+the Object, or distrust the Perfection of his Sight; he saw his dear
+Lady, who had so captivated him the preceeding Day, he saw her in all
+the heightning Circumstances of her Charms, he saw her in all her native
+Beauties, free from the Incumbrance of Dress, her Hair as black as
+Ebony, hung flowing in careless Curls over her Shoulders, it hung link'd
+in amorous Twinings, as if in Love with its own Beauties; her Eyes not
+yet freed from the Dullness of the late Sleep, cast a languishing
+Pleasure in their Aspect, which heaviness of Sight added the greatest
+Beauties to those Suns, because under the Shade of such a Cloud, their
+Lustre cou'd only be view'd; the lambent Drowsiness that play'd upon her
+Face, seem'd like a thin Veil not to hide, but to heighten the Beauty
+which it cover'd; her Night-gown hanging loose, discover'd her charming
+Bosom, which cou'd bear no Name, but Transport, Wonder and Extasy, all
+which struck his Soul, as soon as the Object hit his Eye; her Breasts
+with an easy Heaving, show'd the Smoothness of her Soul and of her Skin;
+their Motions were so languishingly soft, that they cou'd not be said to
+rise and fall, but rather to swell up towards Love, the Heat of which
+seem'd to melt them down again; some scatter'd jetty Hairs, which hung
+confus'dly over her Breasts, made her Bosom show like _Venus_ caught in
+_Vulcan's_ Net, but 'twas the Spectator, not she, was captivated. This
+_Dangerfield_ saw, and all this at once, and with Eyes that were adapted
+by a preparatory Potion; what must then his Condition be? He was
+stricken with such Amazement, that he was forced to Support himself, by
+leaning on _Rinaldo's_ Arm, who started at his sudden Indisposition.
+'I'm afraid, Sir, (said he) you have received some Wound in the Duel.'
+'Oh! Sir, (said he) I am mortally wounded'; but recollecting himself
+after a little Pause, 'now I am better.' _Rinaldo_ wou'd have sent for a
+Surgeon to have it searched. 'Your pardon, Sir, (said _Dangerfield_) my
+Indisposition proceeds from an inward Malady, not by a Sword, but like
+those made by _Achilles's_ Spear, nothing can cure, but what gave the
+Wound.' _Rinaldo_ guessing at the Distemper, but not the Cause of it,
+out of good Manners declined any further enquiry, but conducting him in,
+entertained him with all the Courtesy imaginable; but in half a Hour,
+a Messenger came from the Senate, requiring his immediate Attendance; he
+lying under an indispensable Necessity of making his personal
+Appearance, begg'd _Dangerfield's_ Pardon, intreating him to stay, and
+command his House till his return, and conducting him to a fine Library,
+said he might there find Entertainment, if he were addicted to Study;
+adding withal, as a farther Engagement of his Patience, that he should
+meet the Admiral at the Senate, whom he wou'd bring home as an Addition
+to their Company at Dinner. _Dangerfield_ needed none of these Motives
+to stay, being detained by a secret Inclination to the Place; walking
+therefore into the Library, _Rinaldo_ went to the Senate. _Dangerfield_
+when alone, fell into deep Ruminating on his strange Condition, he knew
+himself in the House, with one of his dear Charmers, but durst not hope
+to see her, which added to his Torment; like _Tantalus_ remov'd the
+farther from Happiness, by being nearer to it, contemplated so far on
+the Beauties of that dear Creature, that he concluded, if her Wit were
+like that of his t'other Mistress, he wou'd endeavour to confine his
+Passion wholly to that Object.
+
+In the mean Time, _Maria_ was no less confounded, she knew herself in
+Love with a Stranger, whose Residence was uncertain, she knew her own
+Modesty in concealing it; and alas! she knew her Dumbness uncapable of
+ever revealing it, at least, it must never expect any Return; she had
+gather'd from her Sister's Discourse, that she was her Rival; a Rival,
+who had the Precedency in Age, as the Advantage in Wit, and Intreague,
+which want of Speech render'd her uncapable of; these Reflections, as
+they drew her farther from the dear Object, brought her nearer Despair;
+her Sister was gone that Morning with her Unkle, the Admiral, about two
+Miles from _Venice_, to drink some Mineral Waters, and _Maria_ finding
+nothing to divert her, goes down to her Father's Library, to ease her
+Melancholy by reading. She was in the same loose Habit in which she
+appeared at the Window, her Distraction of Thought not permitting her
+any Care in dressing herself; she enter'd whilst _Dangerfield's_
+Thoughts were bent by a full Contemplation of her Idea, insomuch that
+his Surprize represented her as a Phantom only, created by the Strength
+of his Fancy; her depth of Thought had cast down her Eyes in a fix'd
+Posture so low, that she discover'd not _Dangerfield_, till she stood
+close where he sat, but then so sudden an Appearance of what she so
+lov'd, struck so violently on her Spirits, that she fell in a Swoon, and
+fell directly into _Dangerfield's_ Arms; this soon wakened him from his
+Dream of Happiness, to a Reality of Bliss, he found his Phantom turn'd
+into the most charming Piece of Flesh and Blood that ever was, he found
+her, whom just now he despair'd of seeing; he found her with all her
+Beauties flowing loose in his Arms, the Greatness of the Pleasure rais'd
+by the two heightning Circumstances of Unexpectancy and Surprize, was
+too large for the Capacity of his Soul, he found himself beyond
+Expression happy, but could not digest the Surfeit; he had no sooner
+Leisure to consider on his Joy, but he must reflect on the Danger of her
+that caus'd it, which forced him to suspend his Happiness to administer
+some Relief to her expiring Senses: He had a Bottle of excellent Spirits
+in his Pocket, which holding to her Nose, soon recover'd her; she
+finding herself in the Arms of a Man, and in so loose a Dress, blush'd
+now more red, than she look'd lately pale; and disengaging herself in a
+Confusion, wou'd have flung from him; but he gently detaining her by a
+precarious Hold, threw himself on his Knees, and with the greatest
+Fervency of Passion cry'd out: 'For Heavens sake, dearest Creature, be
+not offended at the accidental Blessing which Fortune, not Design, hath
+cast upon me; (She wou'd have rais'd him up,) No Madam, (continu'd he)
+never will I remove from this Posture, 'till you have pronounc'd my
+Pardon; I love you, Madam, to that Degree, that if you leave me in a
+distrust of your Anger, I cannot survive it; I beg, intreat, conjure you
+to speak, your Silence torments me worse than your Reproaches cou'd; am
+I so much disdain'd, that you will not afford me one Word?' The
+lamentable Plight of the wretched Lady every one may guess, but no Body
+can comprehend; she saw the dearest of Mankind prostrate at her Feet,
+and imploring what she wou'd as readily grant as he desire, yet herself
+under a Necessity of denying his Prayers, and her own easy Inclinations.
+The Motions of her Soul, wanting the freedom of Utterance, were like to
+tear her Heart asunder by so narrow a Confinement, like the force of
+Fire pent up, working more impetuously; 'till at last he redoubling his
+Importunity, her Thoughts wanting Conveyance by the Lips, burst out at
+her Eyes in a Flood of Tears; then moving towards a Writing-Desk, he
+following her still on his Knees, amidst her Sighs and Groans she took
+Pen and Paper, writ two Lines, which she gave him folded up, then
+flinging from him, ran up to her Chamber: He strangely surpriz'd at this
+odd manner of Proceeding, opening the Paper, read the following Words:
+
+  _You can't my Pardon, nor my Anger move.
+  For know, alas! I'm dumb, alas! I love._
+
+He was wonderfully Amaz'd reading these Words. 'Dumb, (cried he out)
+naturally Dumb? O ye niggard Powers, why was such a wond'rous Piece of
+Art left imperfect?' He had many other wild Reasonings upon the
+lamentable Subject, but falling from these to more calm Reflections, he
+examined her Note again, and finding by the last Words that she loved
+him, he might presently imagine, that if he found not some Means of
+declaring the Continuance of his Love, the innocent Lady might
+conjecture herself slighted, upon the Discovery of her Affection and
+Infirmity: Prompted, by which Thought, and animated by the Emotions of
+his Passion, he ventured to knock at her Door; she having by this Time
+dressed herself, ventured to let him in: _Dangerfield_ ran towards her,
+and catching her with an eager Embrace, gave her a thousand Kisses;
+'Madam, (said he) you find that pardoning Offences only prepares more,
+by emboldning the Offender; but, I hope, Madam,' shewing her the Note,
+'this is a general Pardon for all Offences of this sort, by which I am
+so encouraged to Transgress, that I shall never cease Crimes of this
+Nature'; Kissing her again. His Happiness was interrupted by
+_Belvideera's_ coming Home, who running up Stairs, called, 'Sister,
+Sister, I have News to tell you': Her Voice alarms _Maria_, who fearing
+the Jealousy of _Belvideera_, shou'd she find _Dangerfield_ in her
+Bed-Chamber, made Signs that he shou'd run into the Closet, which she
+had just lock'd as _Belvideera_ came in: 'Oh, Sister! (said
+_Belvideera_) in a lucky Hour went I abroad this Morning.' In a more
+lucky Hour stay'd I at home this Morning, thought _Maria_. 'I have,
+(continued she,) been Instrumental in parting two Gentlemen fighting
+this Morning, and what is more, my Father had parted them before, when
+engag'd with the fine _English_ Gentleman we saw at the Ball yesterday;
+but the greatest News of all is, that this fine _English_ Gentleman is
+now in the House, and must Dine here to Day; but you must not appear,
+Sister, because 'twere a Shame to let Strangers know that you are Dumb.'
+_Maria_ perceived her Jealousy, pointed to her Limbs, intimating
+thereby, that it was as great a Shame for her to be seen by Strangers;
+but she made farther Signs, that since it was her Pleasure, she wou'd
+keep her Chamber all that Day, and not appear abroad. _Belvideera_ was
+extreamly glad of her Resolution, hoping that she shou'd enjoy
+_Dangerfield's_ Conversation without any Interruption. The Consternation
+of the Spark in the Closet all this while was not little, he heard the
+Voice of the Charmer, that had so captivated him, he found that she was
+Sister to that Lady, whom he just now was making so many Protestations
+to, but he cou'd not imagine how she was Instrumental in parting the two
+Gentlemen, that shou'd have fought him; the Occasion was this:
+
+_Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, parting from _Rinaldo_ and _Dangerfield_, had
+walk'd towards the _Rialto_, and both exasperated that they had missed
+their intended Revenge against _Dangerfield_, turned their Fury upon
+each other, first raising their Anger by incensed Expostulations, then
+drawing their Swords, engaged in a desperate Combat, when a Voice very
+loud calling, (_Erizo_, hold) stopt their Fury to see whence it
+proceeded; when a Coach driving at full Flight stopt close by them, and
+_Francisco_ the _Venetian_ Admiral leaped out with his Sword drawn,
+saying, 'Gentlemen, pray let me be an Instrument of Pacification: As for
+your part, _Erizo_, this Proceeding suits not well with the Business I
+am to move in Favour of you in the Senate to Day; the Post you sue for
+claims your Blood to be spilt against the common Foe, not in private
+Resentment, to the Destruction of a Citizen; and therefore I intreat you
+as my Friend, or I command you as your Officer, to put up.' _Erizo_,
+unwilling to disoblige his Admiral, upon whose Favour his Advancement
+depended, told _Gonzago_, that he must find another time to talk with
+him. 'No, no, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall not part 'till I
+have reconciled you, and therefore let me know your Cause of Quarrel.'
+_Erizo_ therefore related to him the whole Affair, and mentioning that
+_Dangerfield_ was gone Home to Dine with _Rinaldo_; 'With _Rinaldo_ my
+Father?' said _Belvideera_ from the Coach, overjoy'd with Hopes of
+seeing _Dangerfield_ at Home. 'Yes, (reply'd _Gonzago_ surpriz'd) if
+_Rinaldo_ the Senator be your Father, Madam.' 'Yes, he is,' reply'd
+_Belvideera_. _Gonzago_ then knew her to be the Lady he was enamour'd
+of, and for whom he wou'd have fought _Dangerfield_; and now cursed his
+ill Fate, that he had deny'd _Rinaldo's_ Invitation, which lost him the
+Conversation of his Mistress, which his Rival wou'd be sure of. 'Come,
+come, Gentlemen, (said the Admiral) you shall accompany me to see this
+Stranger at _Rinaldo's_ House, I bear a great Esteem for him, and so it
+behoves every loyal _Venetian_, for whose Service he hath been so
+signal.' _Erizo_, unwilling to deny the Admiral, and _Gonzago_ glad of
+an Opportunity of his Mistress's Company, which he just now thought
+lost, consented to the Proposal, and mounting all into the Coach, the
+three Gentlemen were set down at the Senate, and the Lady drove Home as
+above-mentioned.
+
+_Rinaldo_ in the mean Time was not idle in the Senate, there being a
+Motion made for Election of a Captain to the _Rialto_ Galleon, made void
+by the Death of its former Commander in the late Fight, and which was
+the Post designed by the Admiral for _Erizo_. _Rinaldo_ catching an
+Opportunity of obliging _Dangerfield_, for whom he entertain'd a great
+Love and Respect, proposed him as a Candidate for the Command, urging
+his late brave Performance against the _Turks_, and how much it
+concerned the Interest of the State to encourage Foreigners. He being
+the Admiral's Brother, and being so fervent in the Affair, had by an
+unanimous Consent his Commission sign'd just as his Brother came into
+the Senate, who fearing how Things were carried, comforted _Erizo_ by
+future Preferment; but _Erizo_, however he stifled his Resentment, was
+struck with Envy, that a Stranger, and his Enemy shou'd be preferred to
+him, and resolved Revenge on the first Opportunity. They all went home
+with _Rinaldo_, and arrived whilst _Belvideera_ was talking above Stairs
+with her Sister. _Rinaldo_, impatient to communicate his Success to
+_Dangerfield_, ran into the Study, where he left him; but missing him
+there, went into the Garden, and searching all about, returned to the
+Company, telling them he believ'd _Dangerfield_ had fallen asleep in
+some private Arbor in the Garden, where he cou'd not find him, or else
+impatient of his long stay, had departed; but he was sure, if he had
+gone, he wou'd soon return: However they went to Dinner, and
+_Belvideera_ came down, making an Apology for her Sister's Absence,
+thro' an Indisposition that had seized her. _Gonzago_ had his wished for
+Opportunity of entertaining his Mistress, whilst she always expecting
+some News of _Dangerfield_, sat very uneasie in his Company; whilst
+_Dangerfield_ in the Closet, was as impatient to see her. The short
+Discourse she had with her Sister, gave him assurance that his Love
+wou'd not be unacceptable. _Maria_ durst not open the Closet, afraid
+that her Sister shou'd come up every Minute, besides, 'twas impossible
+to convey him out of the Chamber undiscovered, untill 'twas dark, which
+made him Wonder what occasioned his long Confinement; and being tired
+with sitting, got up to the Window, and softly opening the Casement,
+looked out to take the Air; his Footman walking accidentally in the
+Court, and casting up his Eye that way, spy'd him, which confirm'd his
+Patience in attending for him at the Gate; at length it grew Dark, and
+_Maria_ knowing that her Sister was engag'd in a Match at Cards with her
+Father, _Gonzago_ and _Erizo_, the Admiral being gone, she came softly
+to the Closet, and innocently took _Dangerfield_ by the Hand, to lead
+him out, he clapt the dear soft Hand to his Mouth, and kissing it
+eagerly, it fired his Blood, and the unhappy Opportunity adding to the
+Temptation, raised him to the highest Pitch of Passion; he found himself
+with the most beautiful Creature in the World, one who loved him, he
+knew they were alone in the Dark, in a Bed-chamber, he knew the Lady
+young and melting, he knew besides she cou'd not tell, and he was
+conscious of his Power in moving; all these wicked Thoughts concurring,
+establish'd him in the Opinion, that this was the critical Minute of his
+Happiness, resolving therefore not to lose it, he fell down on his
+Knees, devouring her tender Hand, sighing out his Passion, begging her
+to Crown it with her Love, making Ten thousand Vows and Protestations of
+his Secrecy and Constancy, urging all the Arguments that the Subtilty of
+the Devil or Man could suggest. She held out against all his Assaults
+above two Hours, and often endeavoured to Struggle from him, but durst
+make no great Disturbance, thro' fear of Alarming the Company below, at
+last he redoubling his Passion with Sighs, Tears, and all the rest of
+Love's Artillery, he at last gain'd the Fort, and the poor conquered
+Lady, all panting, soft, and trembling every Joynt, melted by his
+Embraces, he there fatally enjoy'd the greatest Extasy of Bliss,
+heightned by the Circumstances of Stealth, and Difficulty in obtaining.
+The ruin'd Lady now too late deplored the Loss of her Honour; but he
+endeavour'd to Comfort her by making Vows of Secrecy, and promising to
+salve her Reputation by a speedy Marriage, which he certainly intended,
+had not the unhappy _Crisis_ of his Fate been so near. The Company by
+this Time had gone off, and _Belvideera_ had retir'd to her Chamber,
+melancholy that she had missed her Hopes of seeing _Dangerfield_.
+_Gonzago_ and _Erizo_ going out of the Gate, saw _Dangerfield's_
+Footman, whom they knew, since they saw him with his Master in the
+Morning. _Gonzago_ asked him why he waited there? 'For my Master, Sir,'
+reply'd the Footman. 'Your Master is not here sure,' said _Gonzago_.
+'Yes, but he is, Sir,' said the Servant, 'for I attended him hither this
+Morning with _Rinaldo_, and saw him in the Afternoon look out of a
+Window above Stairs.' 'Ha!' said _Gonzago_, calling _Erizo_ aside, 'by
+Heavens, he lies here to Night then, and perhaps with my Mistress;
+I perceiv'd she was not pressing for our Stay, but rather urging our
+Departure. _Erizo_, _Erizo_, this Block must be remov'd, he has stepped
+between you and a Command to Day, and perhaps may lye between me and my
+Mistress to Night.' 'By Hell (answered _Erizo_) thou hast raised a Fury
+in me, that will not be lulled asleep, but by a Potion of his Blood;
+let's dispatch this Blockhead first': And running at the Footman, with
+one Thrust killed him. _Dangerfield_ by this time had been let out, and
+hearing the Noise, ran to the Place; they presently assaulted him; he
+defended himself very bravely the space of some Minutes, having wounded
+_Gonzago_ in the Breast; when _Rinaldo_ hearing the Noise, came out; but
+too late for _Dangerfield's_ Relief, and too soon for his own Fate; for
+_Gonzago_, exasperated by his Wound, ran treacherously behind
+_Dangerfield_, and thrust him quite thro' the Body. He finding the
+mortal Wound, and wild with Rage, thrust desperately forward at _Erizo_,
+when at the instant _Rinaldo_ striking in between to part them, received
+_Dangerfield's_ Sword in his Body, which pierced him quite thro'. He no
+sooner fell, than _Dangerfield_ perceived his fatal Error, and the other
+Two fled. _Dangerfield_ curs'd his Fate, and begg'd with all the Prayers
+and Earnestness of a dying Man, that _Rinaldo_ wou'd forgive him. 'Oh!'
+said _Rinaldo_, 'you have ill rewarded me for my Care in your Concerns
+in the Senate to Day.' The Servants coming out, took up _Rinaldo_, and
+_Dangerfield_ leaning upon his Sword, they led him in. _Belvideera_
+first heard the Noise, and running down first met the horrid Spectacle,
+her dear Father breathing out his last, and her Lover, whom she had all
+that Day flattered her self with Hopes of seeing, she now beheld in
+Streams of his Blood; but what must poor _Maria's_ Case be? besides the
+Grief for her Father's Fate, she must view that dear Man, lately Happy
+in her Embraces, now folded in the Arms of Death, she finds herself
+bereft of a Parent, her Love, her Honour, and the Defender of it, all at
+once; and the greatest Torment is, that she must bear all this Anguish,
+and cannot Ease her Soul by expressing it. _Belvideera_ sat wiping the
+Blood from her Father's Wound, whilst mournful _Maria_ sat by
+_Dangerfield_, administring all the Help she cou'd to his fainting
+Spirits; whilst he viewed her with greater Excess of Grief, than he had
+heretofore with Pleasure; being sensible what was the Force of her
+silent Grief, and the Wrong he had done her, which now he cou'd never
+Redress: He had accidentally dropt his Wig in the Engagement, and
+inclining his Head over the Couch where he lay, _Rinaldo_ casting his
+Eye upon him, perceiv'd the Mark of a bloody Dagger on his Neck, under
+his left Ear: 'Sir, (said _Rinaldo_, raising himself up) I conjure you
+answer me directly, were you born with the Mark of that Dagger, or have
+you received it since by Accident.' 'I was certainly born with it,'
+answer'd he. 'Just such a Mark had my Son _Cosmo_, who was lost in the
+_Adriatick_.' 'How! (reply'd _Dangerfield_, starting up with a wild
+Confusion) Lost! say'st thou in the _Adriatick_? Your Son lost in the
+_Adriatick_?' 'Yes, yes,' said _Rinaldo_, 'too surely lost in the
+_Adriatick_.' 'O ye impartial Powers (said _Dangerfield_), why did you
+not reveal this before? Or why not always conceal it? How happy had been
+the Discovery some few Hours ago, and how Tragical is it now? For know,'
+continued he, addressing himself to _Rinaldo_, 'know that my suppos'd
+Father, who was a _Turky_ Merchant, upon his Death-bed call'd me to him,
+and told me 'twas time to undeceive me, I was not his Son, he found me
+in the _Adriatick_ Sea, ty'd to two Planks in his Voyage from _Smyrna_
+to _London_; having no Children, he educated me as his own, and finding
+me worth his Care, left me all his Inheritance with this dying Command,
+that I shou'd seek my Parents at _Venice_.' _Belvideera_ hearkning all
+this while to the lamentable Story, then conjectured whence proceeded
+the natural Affection the whole Family bore him, and embracing him,
+cry'd out, 'Oh my unhappy Brother.' _Maria_ all the while had strong and
+wild Convulsions of Sorrow within her, 'till the working Force of her
+Anguish racking at once all the Passages of her Breast, by a violent
+Impulse, broke the Ligament that doubled in her Tongue, and she burst
+out with this Exclamation; 'Oh! Incest, Incest.' _Dangerfield_ eccho'd
+that Outcry with this, 'O! Horror, Horror, I have enjoy'd my Sister, and
+murder'd my Father.' _Maria_ running distracted about the Chamber, at
+last spy'd _Dangerfield's_ Sword, by which he had supported himself into
+the House, and catching it up, reeking with the Blood of her Father,
+plung'd it into her Heart, and throwing herself into _Dangerfield's_
+Arms, calls out, 'O my Brother, O my Love,' and expir'd. All the
+Neighbourhood was soon alarm'd by the Out-cries of the Family. I lodged
+within three Doors of _Rinaldo's_ House, and running presently thither,
+saw a more bloody Tragedy in Reality, than what the most moving Scene
+ever presented; the Father and Daughter were both dead, the unfortunate
+Son was gasping out his last, and the surviving Sister most miserable,
+because she must survive such Misfortunes, cry'd to me; 'O! behold the
+Fate of your wretched Countryman.' I cou'd make no Answer, being struck
+dumb by the Horror of such woeful Objects; but _Dangerfield_ hearing her
+name his Country, turning towards me, with a languishing and weak Tone,
+'Madam,' said he, 'I was your Countryman, and wou'd to Heavens I were so
+still; if you hear my Story mention'd, on your Return to _England_, pray
+give these strange Turns of my Fate not the Name of Crimes, but favour
+them with the Epithet of Misfortunes; my Name is not Dangerfield, but
+_Cla_--' His Voice there fail'd him, and he presently dy'd; Death
+seeming more favourable than himself, concealing the fatal Author of so
+many Misfortunes, for I cou'd never since learn out his Name; but have
+done him the justice, I hope, to make him be pity'd for his Misfortunes,
+not hated for his Crimes. _Francisco_ being sent for, had _Gonzago_ and
+_Erizo_ apprehended, condemn'd, and executed. _Belvideera_ consign'd all
+her Father's Estate over to her Uncle, reserving only a Competency to
+maintain her a Recluse all the rest of her Life.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Dumb Virgin.
+
+
+p. 429 _Dangerfield._ This name is not to be found in any one of Mrs.
+Behn's plays, but as it does occur in Sedley's _Bellamira; or, The
+Mistress_ (1687), one can only conclude that Aphra gave it to Sir
+Charles and altered her own character's nomenclature. Mrs. Behn, it may
+be remembered, was more than once extraordinarily careless with regard
+to the names of the Dramatis Personae in her comedies. A striking example
+occurs in _Sir Patient Fancy_, where the 'precise clerk' is called both
+Abel and Bartholomew. In _The Feign'd Curtezans_ Silvio and Sabina are
+persistently confused, and again, in _The Town Fop_ (Vol. III, p. 15 and
+p. 20), the name Dresswell is retained for Friendlove. Sedley's
+_Bellamira_ is derived from Terence's _Eunuchus_, and Dangerfield is
+Thraso; the Pyrgopolinices, Miles Gloriosus, of Plautus.
+
+
+Cross-Reference from Introduction: _The Dumb Virgin_
+
+Beginning: Consanguinity and love which are treated in this novel so
+romantically and with such tragic catastrophe had already been dealt
+with in happier mood by Mrs. Behn in _The Dutch Lover_. _Vide_ Note on
+the Source of that play, Vol. I, p. 218.
+
+  Vol. I, p. 218, beginning of "Source" section:
+
+  Mrs. Behn founded the plot of _The Dutch Lover_ upon the stories
+  of Eufemie and Theodore, Don Jame and Frederic, in a pseudo-Spanish
+  novel entitled '_The History of Don Fenise_, a new Romance written
+  in Spanish by Francisco de Las Coveras, And now Englished by a
+  Person of Honour, London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley,' 8vo, 1651.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE WANDERING BEAUTY.
+
+
+I was not above twelve Years old, as near as I can remember, when a Lady
+of my Acquaintance, who was particularly concern'd in many of the
+Passages, very pleasantly entertain'd me with the Relation of the young
+Lady _Arabella's_ Adventures, who was eldest Daughter to Sir _Francis
+Fairname_, a Gentleman of a noble Family, and of a very large Estate in
+the West of _England_, a true Church-Man, a great Loyalist, and a most
+discreetly-indulgent Parent; nor was his Lady any Way inferiour to him
+in every Circumstance of Virtue. They had only two Children more, and
+those were of the soft, unhappy Sex too; all very beautiful, especially
+_Arabella_, and all very much alike; piously educated, and courtly too,
+of naturally-virtuous Principles and Inclinations.
+
+'Twas about the sixteenth Year of her Age, that Sir _Robert Richland_,
+her Father's great Friend and inseparable Companion, but superiour to
+him in Estate as well as Years, felt the resistless Beauty of this young
+Lady raging and burning in his aged Veins, which had like to have been
+as fatal to him, as a Consumption, or his Climacterical Year of Sixty
+Three, in which he dy'd, as I am told, though he was then hardly Sixty.
+However, the Winter Medlar would fain have been inoculated in the
+Summer's Nacturine. His unseasonable Appetite grew so strong and
+inordinate, that he was oblig'd to discover it to Sir _Francis_; who,
+though he lov'd him very sincerely, had yet a Regard to his Daughter's
+Youth, and Satisfaction in the Choice of a Husband; especially, when he
+consider'd the great Disproportion in their Age, which he rightly
+imagin'd would be very disagreeable to _Arabella's_ Inclinations: This
+made him at first use all the most powerful and perswading Arguments in
+his Capacity, to convince Sir _Robert_ of the Inequality of such a
+Match, but all to no Purpose; for his Passion increasing each Day more
+violently, the more assiduously, and with the greater Vehemence, he
+press'd his Friend to use his Interest and Authority with his Lady and
+Daughter, to consent to his almost unnatural Proposition; offering this
+as the most weighty and prevailing Argument, (which undoubtedly it was,)
+That since he was a Batchelor, he would settle his whole Estate upon
+her, if she surviv'd him, on the Day of Marriage, not desiring one Penny
+as a Portion with her. This Discourse wrought so powerfully with her
+Mother, that she promis'd the old Lover all the Assistance he could hope
+or expect from her: In order to which, the next Day she acquainted her
+fair Daughter with the Golden Advantage she was like to have, if she
+would but consent _to lye by the Parchment that convey'd them to her_.
+The dear, fair Creature, was so surpriz'd at this Overture made by her
+Mother, that her Roses turn'd all into Lillies, and she had like to have
+swoon'd away; but having a greater Command of her Passions than usually
+our Sex have, and chiefly Persons of her Age, she, after some little
+Disorder, which by no Means she could dissemble, she made as dutiful a
+Return to her Mother's Proposition, as her Aversion to it would permit;
+and, for that Time, got Liberty to retreat, and lament in private the
+Misfortune which she partly fore-saw was impending. But her Grief (alas)
+was no Cure of her Malady; for the next Day she was again doubly
+attack'd by her Father and Mother, with all the Reasons that Interest
+and Duty could urge, which she endeavour'd to obviate by all the
+Arguments that Nature and Inclination could offer; but she found them
+all in vain, since they continu'd their ungrateful Solicitations for
+several Days together, at the End of which, they both absolutely
+commanded her to prepare her self for her Nuptials with Sir _Robert_; so
+that finding her self under a Necessity of complying, or at least of
+seeming so, she made 'em hope, that her Duty had overcome her Aversion;
+upon which she had a whole Week's Liberty to walk where she would,
+unattended, or with what Company she pleas'd, and to make Visits to whom
+she had a Mind, either of her Relations or Acquaintance thereabouts;
+tho' for three or four Days before, she was strictly confin'd to her
+Chamber.
+
+After Dinner, on the third Day of her Enlargement, being Summer Time,
+she propos'd to her Mother that she would take a Walk to a Cousin of
+hers, who liv'd about four Miles thence, to intreat her to be one of her
+Bride-Maids, being then in a careless plain Dress, and having before
+discours'd very pleasantly and freely of her Wedding-Day, of what
+Friends she would have invited to that Solemnity, and what Hospitality
+Sir _Robert_ should keep when she was marry'd to him: All which was
+highly agreeable to her Parents, who then could not forbear thanking and
+kissing her for it, which she return'd to 'em both with a Shower of
+Tears. This did not a little surprize 'em at first, but asking her what
+could cause such Signs of Sorrow, after so chearful a Discourse on the
+late Subject? She answer'd, 'That the Thoughts of her going now suddenly
+to live from so dear and tender a Father and Mother, were the sole
+Occasion of such Expressions of Grief.' This affectionate Reply did
+amply satisfy their Doubts; and she presently took Leave of 'em, after
+having desir'd that they would not be uneasy if she should not return
+'till a little before 'twas dark, or if her Cousin should oblige her to
+stay all Night with her; which they took for a discreet Caution in her,
+considering that young Maidens love dearly to talk of Marriage Affairs,
+especially when so near at Hand: And thus easily parted with her, when
+they had walk'd with her about a Mile, over a Field or two of their own.
+
+Never before that Time was the dear Creature glad that her Father and
+Mother had left her, unless when they had press'd her to a Marriage with
+the old Knight. They were therefore no sooner got out of Sight, e're she
+took another Path, that led cross the Country, which she persu'd 'till
+past eight at Night, having walk'd ten Miles since two a Clock, when Sir
+_Francis_ and her Mother left her: She was just now got to a little
+Cottage, the poor, but cleanly Habitation of a Husbandman and his Wife,
+who had one only Child, a Daughter, about the Lady _Arabella's_ Age and
+Stature. 'Twas happy for her she got thither before they were a Bed; for
+her soft and beautiful Limbs began now to be tir'd, and her tender Feet
+to be gall'd. To the good Woman of the House she applies her self,
+desiring Entertainment for that Night, offering her any reasonable
+Satisfaction. The good Wife, at first Sight of her, had Compassion of
+her, and immediately bid her walk in, telling her, that she might lye
+with her Daughter, if she pleas'd, who was very cleanly, tho' not very
+vine. The good Man of the House came in soon after, was very well
+pleas'd with his new Guest; so to Supper they went very seasonably; for
+the poor young Lady, who was e'en ready to faint with Thirst, and not
+overcharg'd with what she had eaten the Day before. After Supper they
+ask'd her whence she came, and how she durst venture to travel alone,
+and a Foot? To which she reply'd, That she came from a Relation who
+liv'd at _Exeter_, with whom she had stay'd 'till she found she was
+burthensome: That she was of _Welsh_ Parents, and of a good Family; but
+her Father dying, left a cruel Mother-in-Law, with whom she could by no
+Means continue, especially since she would have forc'd her to marry an
+old Man, whom it was impossible she should love, tho' he was very rich:
+That she was now going to seek her Fortune in _London_, where she hop'd,
+at least, to get her a good Service. They all seem'd to pity her very
+heartily; and, in a little Time after, they went to their two several
+Apartments, in one of which _Arabella_ and the Damsel of the House went
+to Bed, where the young Lady slept soundly, notwithstanding the Hardness
+of her Lodging. In the Morning, about Four, according to her laudable
+Custom, the young hardy Maiden got up to her daily Employment; which
+waken'd _Arabella_, who presently bethought her self of an Expedient for
+her more secure and easy Escape from her Parents Pursuit and Knowledge,
+proposing to her Bedfellow an Exchange of their Wearing-Apparel. The
+Heiress and Hope of that little Family was extreamly fond of the
+Proposal, and ran immediately to acquaint her Mother with it, who was so
+well pleas'd, that she could hardly believe it, when the young Lady
+confirm'd it, and especially, when she understood the Exchange was to be
+made on even Hands. 'If you be in earnest, Forsooth, (said the Mother)
+you shall e'en have her Sunday-Cloaths.' 'Agreed (return'd _Arabella_)
+but we must change Shifts too; I have now a Couple about me, new and
+clean, I do assure you: For my Hoods and Head-dress you shall give me
+two Pinners, and her best Straw-Hat; and for my Shoes, which I have not
+worn above a Week, I will have her Holliday Shoes.' 'A Match, indeed,
+young Mistress,' cry'd the good Wife. So without more Ceremony, the
+young unhappy Lady was attir'd in her Bedfellow's Country Weeds, by Help
+of the Mother and Daughter. Then, after she had taken her Leave of the
+good old Man too, she put a broad round Shilling into his Wife's Hand,
+as a Reward for her Supper and Lodging, which she would fain have
+return'd, but t'other would not receive it. 'Nay, then, by the Mackins,
+(said her Hostess) you shall take a Breakfast e're you go, and a Dinner
+along with you, for Fear you should be sick by the Way.' _Arabella_
+stay'd to eat a Mess of warm Milk, and took some of their Yesterday's
+Provision with her in a little course Linnen Bag. Then asking for the
+direct Road to _London_, and begging a few green Wall-nuts, she took her
+last Farewel of them.
+
+Near Twelve at Noon she came to a pleasant Meadow, through which there
+ran a little Rivulet of clear Water, about nine miles from her last
+Lodging, but quite out of the Way to _London_. Here she sate down, and
+after drinking some of the Water out of the Hollow of her Hand, she
+open'd her Bag, and made as good a Meal as the Courseness of the Fare,
+and the Niceness of her Appetite would permit: After which, she bruis'd
+the outward green Shells of a Wall-nut or two, and smear'd her lovely
+Face, Hands, and Part of her Arms, with the Juice; then looking into the
+little purling Stream, that seem'd to murmur at the Injury she did to so
+much Beauty, she sigh'd and wept, to think to what base Extremities she
+was now likely to be reduc'd! That she should be forc'd to stain that
+Skin which Heaven had made so pure and white! 'But ah! (cry'd she to her
+self) if my Disobedience to my Parents had not stain'd my Conscience
+worse, this needed not to have been done.' Here she wept abundantly
+again; then, drying her Eyes, she wash'd her Feet to refresh 'em, and
+thence continu'd her Journey for ten Miles more, which she compass'd by
+seven a Clock; when she came to a Village, where she got Entertainment
+for that Night, paying for it, and the next Morning, before Six, as soon
+as she had fill'd her little Bag with what good Chear the Place
+afforded, she wander'd on 'till Twelve again, still crossing the
+Country, and taking her Course to the Northern Parts of _England_, which
+doubtless was the Reason her Father and his Servants miss'd of her in
+their Pursuit; for he imagin'd that for certain she had taken her
+nearest Way to _London_. After she had refresh'd her self for an Hour's
+Time by the Side of a Wood, she arose and wander'd again near twelve
+Miles by eight a Clock, and lodg'd at a good substantial Farmer's.
+
+Thus she continu'd her Errantry for above a Fortnight, having no more
+Money than just thirty Shillings, half of which brought her to Sir
+_Christian Kindly's_ House in _Lancashire_. 'Twas near five a Clock in
+the Afternoon when she reach'd that happy Port, when, coming to the Hall
+Door, she enquir'd for the Lady of the House, who happily was just
+coming into the Hall with a little Miss in her Arms, of about four Years
+old, very much troubled with weak and sore Eyes: The fair Wanderer,
+addressing her self to the Lady with all the Humility and Modesty
+imaginable, begg'd to know if her Ladyship had any Place in her Family
+vacant, in which she might do her Service? To which the Lady return'd,
+(by Way of Question) Alas! poor Creature! what canst thou do? Any thing,
+may it please your Ladyship, (reply'd the disguis'd Beauty) any thing
+within my Strength and my Knowledge, I mean, Madam. Thou say'st well,
+(said the Lady) and I'm sorry I have not any vacant for thee. I beseech
+your Ladyship then (said _Arabella_) let me lodge in your Barn to-Night;
+for I am told it is a great Way hence to any Town, and I have but little
+Money. In my Barn, poor Girl! (cry'd the Lady, looking very earnestly on
+her) ay, God forbid else, unless we can find a better Lodging for thee.
+Art thou hungry or thirsty? Yes, Madam (reply'd the wandering Fair One)
+I could both eat and drink, if it please your Ladyship. The Lady
+commanded Victuals and Drink to be brought, and could not forbear
+staying in the Hall 'till she had done; when she ask'd her several
+Questions, as of what Country she was? To which she answer'd truly, of
+_Somersetshire_. What her Parents were, and if living? To which she
+return'd, They were good, honest, and religious People, and she hop'd
+they were alive, and in as good Health as when she left 'em. After the
+Lady had done catechising her, _Arabella_, looking on the little Child
+in her Ladyship's Arms, said, Pardon me, Madam, I beseech you, if I am
+too bold in asking your Ladyship how that pretty Creature's Eyes came to
+be so bad? By an extream Cold which she took, (reply'd the Lady.) I had
+not presum'd (return'd t'other) to have ask'd your Ladyship this
+Question, were I not assur'd that I have an infallible Cure for the
+Infirmity; and if, Madam, you will be pleas'd to let me apply it, I will
+tell your Ladyship the Remedy in private. The Lady was much surpriz'd to
+hear a young Creature, so meanly habited, talk so genteelly; and after
+surveying her very strictly, said the Lady, Have you ever experienc'd it
+before? Yes, Madam (reply'd the fair Physician) and never without happy
+Success: I dare engage, Madam, (added she) that I will make 'em as well
+as my own, by God's Blessing, or else I will be content to lose mine,
+which Heaven forbid. Amen, (cry'd the good Lady) for they are very fine
+ones, on my Word.--Stay, Child, I will desire Sir _Christian_ to hear it
+with me; and if he approves it, you shall about it; and if it take good
+Effect, we will endeavour to requite the Care and Pains it shall cost
+you. Saying thus, she immediately left her, and return'd very speedily
+with Sir _Christian_, who having discours'd _Arabella_ for some time,
+with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, took her into the Parlour with his
+Lady, where she communicated her Secret to 'em both; which they found so
+innocent and reasonable, that they desir'd her to prepare it as soon as
+possible, and to make her Application of it with all convenient Speed;
+which she could not do 'till the next Morning. In the mean Time she was
+order'd a Lodging with the House-Maid, who reported to her Lady, That
+she found her a very sweet and cleanly Bed-fellow; (adding) That she
+never saw nor felt so white, so smooth, and soft a Skin. _Arabella_
+continu'd her Remedy with such good Success, that in a Fortnight's Time
+little Miss's Eyes were as lively and strong as ever. This so endear'd
+her to the Knight and his Lady, that they created a new Office in their
+Family, purposely for her, which was, Attendant on their eldest Daughter
+_Eleanora_, a Lady much about her Years and Stature; who was so charm'd
+with her Conversation, that she could not stir Abroad, nor eat, nor
+sleep, without _Peregrina Goodhouse_ (for those were the Names she
+borrow'd:) Nor was her Modesty, Humility, and Sweetness of Temper, less
+engaging to her Fellow-Servants, who all strove which should best
+express their Love to her. On Festival-Days, and for the Entertainment
+of Strangers, she would lend her helping Hand to the Cook, and make the
+Sauce for every Dish, though her own Province was only to attend the
+young Lady, and prepare the Quidlings, and other Sweet-Meats, for the
+Reception of Sir _Christian's_ Friends; all which she did to Admiration.
+In this State of easy Servitude she liv'd there for near three Years,
+very well contented at all Times, but when she bethought her self of her
+Father, Mother, and Sisters, courted by all the principal Men-Servants,
+whom she refus'd in so obliging a Manner, and with such sweet, obliging
+Words, that they could not think themselves injur'd, though they found
+their Addresses were in vain. Mr. _Prayfast_, the Chaplain himself,
+could not hold out against her Charms. For her Skin had long since
+recover'd its native Whiteness; nor did she need Ornaments of Cloaths to
+set her Beauty off, if any Thing could adorn her, since she was dress'd
+altogether as costly, though not so richly (perhaps) as _Eleanora_.
+_Prayfast_ therefore found that the Spirit was too weak for the Flesh,
+and gave her very broad Signs of his Kindness in Sonnets, Anagrams, and
+Acrosticks, which she receiv'd very obligingly of him, taking a more
+convenient Time to laugh at 'em with her young Lady.
+
+Her kind Reception of them encourag'd him to that Degree, that within a
+few Days after, supposing himself secure on her Side, he apply'd himself
+to the good old Knight, his Patron, for his Consent to a Marriage with
+her, who very readily comply'd with his Demands, esteeming it a very
+advantagious Match for _Peregrina_, and withal told him, That he would
+give him three hundred Pounds with her, besides the first Benefit that
+should fall in his Gift. But (said he) as I doubt not that you are
+sufficiently acquainted with her Virtues and other excellent
+Qualifications, 'tis necessary that you should know the worst that I can
+tell you of her, which is, that she came to us a meer Stranger, in a
+very mean, tho' cleanly Habit; and therefore, as she confesseth, we may
+conclude, of very humble, yet honest Parentage. A! (possibly) her Father
+might have been, or is, some Husbandman, or somewhat inferiour to that;
+for we took her up at the Door, begging one Night's Entertainment in the
+Barn. How, Sir! (cry'd _Prayfast_, starting) have you no better
+Knowledge of her Birth, than what you are pleas'd to discover now? No
+better, nor more (reply'd the Knight.) Alas! Sir, then (return'd the
+proud canonical Sort of a Farmer) she is no Wife for me; I shall
+dishonour my Family by marrying so basely. Were you never told any Thing
+of this before? (ask'd the Knight.) You know, Sir, (answer'd the Prelate
+that would be) that I have not had the Honour to officiate, as your
+Chaplain, much more than half a Year; in which Time, 'tis true, I have
+heard that she was receiv'd as a Stranger; but that she came in so low a
+Capacity I never learn'd 'till now. I find then, Parson, (said the
+Knight) that you do not like the Author of your Happiness, at least, who
+might be so, because she comes to you in such an humble Manner; I tell
+you the _Jews_ are miserable for the same Reason. She cannot be such
+perfectly to me (return'd t'other) without the Advantage of good Birth.
+With that I'm sure she would not, return'd his Patron, and left him to
+go to _Peregrina_, whom he happily found alone. Child, (said he to her)
+have you any Obligation to Mr. _Prayfast_? As how, Sir? She ask'd. Do
+you love him? Have you made him any Promise of Marriage? Or has he any
+Way engag'd himself to you? Neither, Sir, (she answer'd.) 'Tis true,
+I love him as my Fellow-Servant, no otherwise. He has indeed been
+somewhat lavish of his Wit and Rhimes to me, which serv'd well enough to
+divert my young Lady and me. But of all Mankind, perhaps, he should be
+the last I would choose for a Husband. I thought (said the good-humour'd
+old Knight) that he had already obtain'd a Promise from you, since he
+came but just now to ask my Consent, which I freely gave him at first,
+upon that Thought; but he is doubtful of your Birth, and fears it may
+dishonour his Family, if he should marry you. On my Word, Sir, (return'd
+_Peregrina_, blushing with Disdain, no doubt) our Families are by no
+Means equal. What thy Family is, I know not; (said Sir _Christian_) but
+I am sure thou art infinitely superiour to him in all the natural
+Embelishments both of Body and Mind. Be just to thy self, and be not
+hasty to wed: Thou hast more Merit than Wealth alone can purchase. O!
+dear Sir, (she return'd) you ruin me with Obligations never to be
+re-paid, but in Acknowledgment, and that imperfectly too. Here they were
+interrupted by the young Lady, to whom she repeated the Conference
+betwixt Sir _Christian_ and _Prayfast_, as soon as ever Sir _Christian_
+left the Room.
+
+About a Week after, Sir _Lucius Lovewell_, (a young Gentleman, of a good
+Presence, Wit, and Learning enough, whose Father, dying near a
+Twelve-month before, had left him upwards of 3000_l._ a Year, which,
+too, was an excellent Accomplishment, tho' not the best; for he was
+admirably good-humour'd) came to visit Sir _Christian Kindly_; and, as
+some of the Family imagin'd, 'twas with Design to make his Addresses to
+the young Lady, Sir _Christian's_ Daughter. Whatever his Thoughts were,
+his Treatment, there, was very generous and kind. He saw the Lady, and
+lik'd her very well; nay, doubtless, would have admitted a Passion for
+her, had not his Destiny at the same Time shewn him _Peregrina_. She was
+very beautiful, and he as sensible; and 'tis not to be doubted, but that
+he immediately took Fire. However, his Application and Courtship, free
+and unaffected, were chiefly directed to Sir _Christian's_ Daughter:
+Some little Respects he paid to _Peregrina_, who could not choose but
+look on him as a very fine, good-humour'd, and well-accomplish'd
+Gentleman. When the Hour came that he thought fit to retreat, Sir
+_Christian_ ask'd him, When he would make 'em happy again in his
+Conversation? To which he return'd, That since he was not above seven or
+eight Miles from him, and that there were Charms so attractive at Sir
+_Christian's_, he should take the Liberty to visit him sooner and
+oftener than he either expected or desir'd. T'other reply'd, That was
+impossible; and so, without much more Ceremony, he took his Leave of
+that delightful Company for two or three Days; at the End of which he
+return'd, with Thoughts much different from those at his first Coming
+thither, being strongly agitated by his Passion for _Peregrina_. He took
+and made all the Opportunities and Occasions that Chance and his own
+Fancy could offer and present to talk to her, both before, at, and after
+Dinner; and his Eyes were so constantly fix'd on her, that he seem'd to
+observe nothing else; which was so visible to Sir _Christian_, his Lady,
+and Daughter, that they were convinc'd of their Error, in believing,
+that he came to make his Court to the young Lady. This late Discovery of
+the young Knight's Inclinations, was no Way unpleasant to Sir
+_Christian_ and his Lady; and to the young Lady it was most agreeable
+and obliging, since her Heart was already pre-engag'd elsewhere; and
+since she did equally desire the good fortune of her beautiful Attendant
+with her own.
+
+The Table was no sooner clear'd, and a loyal Health or two gone round,
+e're Sir _Christian_ ask'd his young amorous Guest to take a Walk with
+him in the Gardens: To which Sir _Lucius_ readily consented, designing
+to disclose that to him for a Secret, which was but too apparent to all
+that were present at Table: When therefore he thought he had
+sufficiently admir'd and commended the Neatness of the Walks and Beauty
+of the Flowers, he began, to this Effect:
+
+Possibly, Sir _Christian_, I shall surprize you with the Discourse I'm
+going to make you; but 'tis certain no Man can avoid the Necessity of
+the Fate which he lies under; at least I have now found it so.--I came
+at first, Sir, with the Hopes of prevailing on you to honour and make me
+happy in a Marriage with Madam _Eleanora_ your Daughter; but at the same
+Instant I was seiz'd with so irresistable a Passion for the charming
+_Peregrina_, that I find no Empire, Fame, nor Wit, can make me perfectly
+bless'd here below, without the Enjoyment of that beautiful Creature. Do
+not mistake me, Sir, (I beseech you, continu'd he) I mean an _honourable
+Enjoyment_.--I will make her my Wife, Sir, if you will be generously
+pleas'd to use your Interest with her on my Part.
+
+To which the good old Knight reply'd, What you think (Sir) you have now
+imparted as a Secret, has been the general Observation of all my Family,
+e're since you gave us the Happiness of your Company to Day: Your
+Passion is too great to be disguis'd; and I am extremely pleas'd, that
+you can think any Thing in my House worthy the Honour you intend
+_Peregrina_. Indeed, had you made any particular and publick Address to
+my Daughter, I should have believ'd it want of Merit in her, or in us,
+her Parents, that you should, after that, quit your Pretensions to her,
+without any willing or known Offence committed on our Side. I therefore
+(Sir) approve your Choice, and promise you my utmost Assistance afar.
+She is really virtuous in all the Latitude of Virtue; her Beauty is too
+visible to be disputed ev'n by Envy it self: As for her Birth, she best
+can inform you of it; I must only let you know, that, as her Name
+imports, she was utterly a Stranger, and entertain'd by us in pure
+Charity. But the Antiquity and Honour of your Family can receive no
+Diminution by a Match with a beautiful and virtuous Creature, for whom,
+you say, and I believe, you have so true a Passion. I have now told you
+the worst (Sir) that I know of her; but your Wealth and Love may make
+you both eternally happy on Earth. And so they shall, _by her dear
+self_, (return'd the amorous Knight) if both of 'em may recommend me to
+her, with your Perswasions added, which still I beg. Say, rather you
+command; and with those three hundred Pounds which I promis'd her, if
+she marry'd with my Consent to Mr. _Prayfast_.
+
+To this, the other smiling, reply'd, Her Person and Love is all I court
+or expect, Sir: But since you have thought her worthy of so great an
+Expression of your Favour and Kindness, I will receive it with all
+Humility as is from a Father, which I shall ever esteem you.--But see,
+Sir, (cry'd he in an Extasy) how she comes, led by Madam _Eleanora_,
+your Daughter. The young Lady coming to him, began thus: I know (Sir)
+'tis my Father and Mother's Desire and Ambition to shew you the
+heartiest Welcome in their Power, which can by no Means be made appear
+so particularly and undisputably, as by presenting you with what you
+like best in the Family: In Assurance therefore that I shall merit their
+Favour by this Act, I have brought your dear _Peregrina_ to you, not
+without Advice, and some Instructions of mine, that may concern her
+Happiness with you, if discreetly observ'd and persu'd by her. In short,
+(Sir) I have told her, that a Gentleman of so good a Figure, such
+excellent Parts, and generous Education, of so ancient and honourable a
+Family, together with so plentiful an Estate as you at present possess,
+is capable of bringing Happiness to any, the fairest Lady in this
+Country at least. O Madam! (return'd Sir _Lucius_) your Obligation is so
+great, that I want Sense to receive it as I ought; much more Words to
+return you any proportionable Acknowledgment of it. But give me Leave to
+say thus much, Madam; that my Thoughts of making my Court to your
+Ladiship, first invited me to give Sir _Christian_, your Father, the
+Trouble of a Visit, since the Death of mine. However, the over-ruling
+Powers have thought to divert my Purpose, and the offering of my Heart,
+which can never rest, but with this dear charming Creature.--Your
+Merits, Madam--are sufficient for the Gentleman on whom I entirely fix'd
+my Affections, before you did me the Honour and your self the Trouble of
+your first Visit (interrupted Sir _Christian's_ Daughter.) And now, Sir,
+(added she to her Father) if you please, let us leave 'em to make an End
+of this Business between themselves. No, Madam, (cry'd Sir _Lucius_)
+your Father has promis'd me to make Use of his Interest with her for my
+Sake. This I now expect, Sir. Then (said the old Knight) thou dear
+beautiful and virtuous Stranger! if I have any Power to perswade thee,
+take my Advice, and this honourable Gentleman to thy loving Husband; I'm
+sure he'll prove so to thee. If I could command thee I would. Ah Sir!
+(said she, kneeling, with Tears falling from her charming Eyes) I know
+none living that has greater Right and Power.--But (alas Sir!) this
+honourable Person knows not the Meanness of my Birth, at least, he
+cannot think it any Way proportionable or suitable to his. O thou dear
+Creature, (cry'd her Lover, setting one Knee to the Ground, and taking
+her up) Sir _Christian_ has already discours'd all thy Circumstances to
+me: Rise and bless me with thy Consent. I must ask my Lady's, Sir, (she
+reply'd.) See, here my Mother comes (said the young Lady) and entreated
+her good Word for Sir _Lucius_. The good ancient Lady began then to use
+all the Arguments to incline her to yield to her Happiness; and, in
+fine, she was prevail'd on to say, I do consent, and will endeavour to
+deserve the honourable Title of your dutiful Wife, Sir. 'Twas with no
+common Joy and Transport that he receiv'd her Hand, and kiss'd those
+dear Lips that gave him an Assurance of his Happiness; which he resolv'd
+should begin about a Month or two afterwards; in which Time he might
+send Orders to _London_ for the making their Wedding Cloaths. Into the
+House then they all went, Sir _Lucius_ leading _Peregrina_, and the
+first they met of the Family was _Prayfast_, who was not a little
+surpriz'd nor discompos'd at that Sight; and more especially when Sir
+_Christian_ told him, That tho' he did not think that beautiful sweet
+Stranger worthy the Title of his Wife, yet now he should be oblig'd to
+join her to that honourable Person. The Slave bow'd, and look'd very
+pale.
+
+All Things were at last got ready for the Consummation of their Bliss,
+and _Prayfast_ did their Business effectually, tho' much against his
+Will; however he receiv'd the Reward of twenty Broad Pieces. The Wedding
+was kept for a Week at Sir _Christian's_ House; after which they
+adjourn'd to the Bridegroom's, where it lasted as long as Sir
+_Christian_, his Lady, Daughter, and the rest of that Family would stay.
+As they were leaving him, Sir _Lucius_ dispos'd of two hundred Pounds
+amongst Sir _Christian's_ Servants, and the rest of the three hundred he
+distributed among the Poor of both Parishes.
+
+When they were gone, the affectionate tender Bridegroom could by no
+Means be perswaded by any Gentlemen, his Neighbours, to hunt with 'em,
+or to take any Divertisement, tho' but for half a Day; esteeming it the
+highest Unkindness imaginable to leave his Lady: Not that she could be
+alone neither in his Absence; for she never wanted the Visits of all the
+Ladies round about, and those of the best Quality; who were equally
+charm'd with her Sweetness of Temper, as the Men were with her outward
+Beauties. But in a Month's time, or thereabout, observing that he was
+continually solicited and courted to some Sport or Pastime with those
+Gentlemen of his Neighbourhood, she was forc'd to do her self the
+Violence to beg of him that he would divert himself with 'em, as before
+their Marriage he us'd: And she had so good Success, that he did allow
+himself two Days in the Week to hunt: In one of which, coming Home about
+five a Clock, and not finding his Lady below Stairs, he went directly up
+to her Chamber, where he saw her leaning her Head on her Hand, and her
+Handkerchief all bath'd in Tears. At this Sight he was strangely amaz'd
+and concern'd. Madam, (cry'd he in an unusual Tone) what means such
+Postures as these? Tell me! For I must know the Occasion. Surpriz'd, and
+trembling at this his unwonted Manner of saluting her, she started up,
+and then, falling on her Knees, she wept out, O thou dear Author and
+Lord of all my Joys on Earth! Look not, I beseech you, so wildly, nor
+speak terribly to me! Thou Center of all my Happiness below,
+(return'd he) rise, and make me acquainted with the dreadful Occasion of
+this afflicting and tormenting Sight! All you shall know, (she reply'd)
+dearest of human Blessings! But sit, and change your Looks; then I can
+speak. Speak then, my Life, (said he) but tell me all; all I must know.
+Is there a Thought about my Soul that you shall not partake? I'm sure
+there is not; (he reply'd) say on then. You know, Sir, (she return'd)
+that I have left my Parents now three Years, or thereabouts, and know
+not whether they are living or dead: I was reflecting, therefore, on the
+Troubles which my undutiful and long Absence may have caus'd them; for
+poor and mean as they may be, they well instructed me in all good
+Things; and I would once more, by your dear Permission, see them, and
+beg their Pardon for my Fault; for they are my Parents still, if living,
+Sir, though (unhappily) not worth your Regard. How! (cry'd he) can that
+Pair who gave my Dearest Birth, want my Regard, or ought I can do for
+them? No! thou shalt see them, and so will I: But tell me, _Peregrina_,
+is this the only Cause of your Discomposure? So may I still be bless'd
+in your dear Love, (she reply'd) as this is Truth, and all the Cause.
+When shall we see them, then? (he ask'd). We see them, (cry'd she) O!
+your Goodness descends too much; and you confound me with your unmerited
+and unexpected Kindness. 'Tis I alone that have offended, and I alone am
+fit to see them. That must not be; (return'd her affectionate Husband)
+no, we'll both go together; and if they want, either provide for them
+there, or take them hither with us. Your Education shews their
+Principles, and 'tis no Shame to own virtuous Relations. Come, dry thy
+dear lamenting Eyes; the Beginning of the next Week we'll set forwards.
+Was ever Disobedience so rewarded with such a Husband? (said she) those
+Tears have wash'd that childish Guilt away; and there is no Reward above
+thy Virtue.
+
+In a few Days, Monday began the Date of their Journey to the _West_ of
+_England_; and in five or six Days more, by the Help of a Coach and Six,
+they got to _Cornwall_; where, in a little Town, of little
+Accommodation, they were oblig'd to take up their Lodgings the first
+Night. In the Morning (said his Lady to him) My Dear, about a Mile and a
+half hence lives one Sir _Francis Fairname_ and his Lady, if yet they be
+living, who have a very fine House, and worth your seeing; I beg of you
+therefore, that you will be so kind to your self as to walk thither, and
+dine with the old Gentleman; for that you must, if you see him; whilst I
+stay here, and send to my Father and Mother, if to be found, and prepare
+them to receive you at your Return. I must not have no Denial; (added
+she) for if you refuse this Favour, all my Designs are lost.--Make
+Haste, my Life; 'tis now eleven a Clock; In your Absence I'll dress, to
+try if Change of Cloaths can hide me from them. This was so small a
+Request, that he did not stay to reply to't, but presently left her, and
+got thither in less than half an Hour, attended only by one Footman. He
+was very kindly and respectfully receiv'd by the old Gentleman, who had
+certainly been a very beautiful Person in his Youth; and Sir _Lucius_,
+fixing his Eyes upon his Face, could hardly remove 'em, being very
+pleasantly and surprisingly entertain'd with some Lines that he observ'd
+in it. But immediately recollecting himself, he told him, that having
+heard how fine a Seat that was, his Curiosity led him to beg the Favour
+that he might see it. The worthy old Knight return'd, that his House and
+all the Accommodations in it were at his Service: So inviting him in, he
+satisfy'd his pretended Curiosity; and after he had shewn all that was
+worthy the Sight of a Stranger, in the House, he led him into his
+Gardens, which furnish'd Sir _Lucius_ with new Matter of Admiration;
+whence the old Knight brought him into the Parlour, telling him, that
+'twas his Custom to suffer no Stranger to return, till he had either
+din'd or supp'd with him, according as the Hour of the Day or Night
+presented.
+
+'Twas here the affectionate Husband was strangely surpriz'd at the Sight
+of a Picture, which so nearly counterfeited the Beauties of his
+dear-lov'd Lady, that he stood like an Image himself, gazing and
+varying; the Colours of his Face agitating by the Diversity of his
+Thoughts; which Sir _Francis_ perceiving, ask'd him, What it was that so
+visibly concern'd him? To which he reply'd, That indeed he was
+concern'd, but with great Satisfaction and Pleasure, since he had never
+seen any Thing more beautiful than that Picture, unless it were a Lady
+for whom he had the most sincere Affection imaginable, and whom it did
+very nearly represent; and then enquir'd for whom that was drawn? Sir
+_Francis_ answer'd him, 'Twas design'd for one who was, I dare not say
+who is, my Daughter; and the other two were drawn for her younger
+Sisters. And see, Sir, (persu'd he) here they come, following their
+Mother: At which Words Sir _Lucius_ was oblig'd to divorce his Eyes from
+the charming Shadow, and make his Compliments to them; which were no
+sooner over than Dinner was serv'd in, where the young Knight eat as
+heartily as he could, considering he sate just opposite to it, and in
+Sight of the two Ladies, who were now exactly like his own Wife, though
+not so very beautiful.
+
+The Table being uncover'd, Sir _Lucius_ desir'd to know why Sir
+_Francis_ said, He doubted whether the Original of that Picture were yet
+his Daughter? To which the Mother return'd (big with Sorrow, which was
+seen in her Tears) That her Husband had spoken but too rightly: For
+(added she) 'tis now three Years since we have either seen her or heard
+from her. How, Madam! three Years, (cry'd Sir _Lucius_) I believe I can
+shew your Ladiship a dear Acquaintance of mine, so wonderfully like that
+Picture, that I am almost perswaded she is the very Original; only
+(pardon me, Madam) she tells me her Parents are of mean Birth and
+Fortune. Dear Sir, (cry'd the tender Mother) Is she in this Country? She
+is not two Miles hence, reply'd Sir _Lucius_. By all Things most dear to
+you, Sir, (said the Lady) let us be so happy as to see her, and that
+with all convenient Expedition! for it will be a Happiness to see any
+Creature, the only Like my dearest _Arabella_. _Arabella_, Madam! alas!
+No, Madam, her Name is _Peregrina_. No Matter for Names, Sir, (cry'd the
+Lady) I want the Sight of the dear Creature. Sir, (added the worthy old
+Knight) I can assure you it will be an eternal Obligation to us; or, if
+you please, we will wait on you to her. By no Means, Sir, (return'd Sir
+_Lucius_) I will repeat my Trouble to you with her, in an Hour at
+farthest. We shall desire the Continuance of such Trouble as long as we
+live, reply'd Sir _Francis_. So, without farther Ceremony, Sir _Lucius_
+left 'em and return'd to his Lady, whom he found ready dress'd, as he
+wish'd he might. Madam, (said he) where are your Father and Mother?
+I know not, yet, my Dear, she reply'd. Well, (return'd he) we will
+expect 'em, or send for 'em hither at Night; in the mean Time I have
+engag'd to bring you with me to Sir _Francis Fairname_ and his Lady,
+with all imaginable Expedition. So immediately, as soon as Coach and Six
+and Equipage was ready, he hurry'd her away with him to Sir _Francis_,
+whom they found walking with his Lady and two Daughters in the outward
+Court, impatiently expecting their Coming. The Boot of the Coach (for
+that was the Fashion in those Days) was presently let down, and Sir
+_Lucius_ led his Lady forwards to them; who coming within three or four
+Paces of the good old Knight, his Lady fell on her Knees, and begg'd
+their Pardon and Blessing. Her affectionate Father answer'd 'em with
+Tears from his Eyes; but the good ancient Lady was so overcome with Joy,
+that she fell into a Swoon, and had like to have been accompany'd by her
+Daughter, who fell upon her Knees by her, and with her Shrieks recall'd
+her, when she strait cry'd out, My Daughter, my Daughter's come again!
+my _Arabella_ alive! Ay, my dear offended Mother! with all the Duty and
+Penitence that Humanity is capable of, return'd the Lady _Lovewell_. Her
+Sisters then express'd their Love in Tears, Embraces, and Kisses, while
+her dear Husband begg'd a Blessing of her Parents, who were very
+pleasantly surpriz'd, to know that their Daughter was so happily
+marry'd, and to a Gentleman of such an Estate and Quality as Sir
+_Lucius_ seem'd to be: 'Twas late that Night e'er they went to Bed at
+Sir _Francis's_. The next Day, after they had all pretty well eas'd
+themselves of their Passions, Sir _Francis_ told his Son-in-Law, that as
+he had three Daughters, so he had 3000_l._ a Year, and he would divide
+it equally among 'em; but for Joy of the Recovery of his eldest
+Daughter, and her fortunate Match with so worthy a Gentleman as Sir
+_Lucius_, who had given him an Account of his Estate and Quality, he
+promis'd him ten thousand Pounds in ready Money besides; whereas the
+other young Ladies were to have but five thousand a Piece, besides their
+Dividend of the Estate. And now, (said he) Daughter, the Cause of your
+Retreat from us, old Sir _Robert Richland_, has been dead these three
+Months, on such a Day. How, Sir, (cry'd she) on such a Day! that was the
+very Day on which I was so happy as to be marry'd to my dear Sir
+_Lucius_.
+
+She then gave her Father, and Mother, and Sisters, a Relation of all
+that had happen'd to her since her Absence from her dear Parents, who
+were extremely pleas'd with the Account of Sir _Christian_ and his
+Lady's Hospitality and Kindness to her; and in less than a Fortnight
+after, they took a Journey to Sir _Lucius's_, carrying the two other
+young Ladies along with 'em; and, by the Way, they call'd at Sir
+_Christian's_, where they arriv'd Time enough to be present the next Day
+at Sir _Christian's_ Daughter's Wedding, which they kept there for a
+whole Fortnight.
+
+  _FINIS._
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Wandering Beauty.
+
+
+p. 451 _two Pinners_. A pinner is 'a coif with two long flaps one on
+each side pinned on and hanging down, and sometimes fastened at the
+breast . . . sometimes applied to the flaps as an adjunct of the
+coif.'--_N.E.D._ cf. Pepys, 18 April, 1664: 'To Hyde Park . . . and my
+Lady Castlemaine in a coach by herself, in yellow satin and a
+pinner on.'
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE UNHAPPY MISTAKE; OR, THE IMPIOUS VOW PUNISH'D.
+
+
+The Effects of Jealousy have ever been most fatal; and it is certainly
+one of the most tormenting Passions that an human Soul can be capable
+of, tho' it be created by the least Appearances of Reason: The Truth of
+which this following Story will evince.
+
+Sir _Henry Hardyman_ was a Gentleman of a very large Estate in
+_Somersetshire_, of a very generous Temper, hospitable almost to
+_Extravagancy_; a _plain down-right Dealer, wonderfully good-natur'd_,
+but very _passionate_: Whose Lady dying, left him only a Son and a
+Daughter; between whom there were about six Years Difference in their
+Age. _Miles Hardyman_ (for so the Son was call'd) being the eldest; both
+of naturally virtuous Inclinations, which were carefully improv'd by a
+generous and pious Education. _Miles_ was a very tall, large, and
+well-proportion'd Person at Two and Twenty; brave and active, and seem'd
+to be born for War, tho' he had a Heart as tender and capable of
+receiving the Impressions of Love as any of our Sex. He had been bred
+for some Years at the University; where, among other Things, he learn'd
+to fence; in which, however, he was mightily improv'd in a Twelvemonth's
+Time that he stay'd here in Town. _Lucretia_, his Sister, was beautiful
+enough, her Father designing to give ten thousand Pounds with her on
+Marriage; but (which is above all) she was incomparably good-humour'd.
+
+At his Return to his Father in the Country, young _Hardyman_ found Madam
+_Diana Constance_, a most beautiful Lady, with his Sister, at that Time
+about 16 Years old; somewhat tall of her Age, of happy and virtuous
+Education, of an indifferent Fortune, not exceeding two thousand Pounds,
+which was no Way answerable to the Expectations he had after his
+Father's Death; but it was impossible he should not love her, she was so
+prodigiously charming both in her inward and outward Excellencies;
+especially since he had the Opportunity of conversing with her at his
+Father's for above a Month. 'Tis true, he had seen her before, but it
+was then five Years since. Love her he did then, and that most
+passionately; nor was she insensible or ungrateful. But our young Lovers
+had not Discretion enough to conceal the Symptoms of their Passion,
+which too visibly and frequently sally'd out at their Eyes before the
+old Gentleman; which made him prudently, as he thought, and timely
+enough, offer his Daughter _Lucretia_ the Liberty of taking a small
+Journey with _Diana_ to her House, which was not above 20 Miles thence,
+where that young Lady's Aunt govern'd in her Absence; for _Diana_ had no
+other Relation, so near as she was, living in _England_, her only
+Brother _Lewis_ having been in _Italy_ and _France_ ever since her
+Father dy'd, which was then near five Years past.
+
+_Lucretia_, over-joy'd at her Father's pretended Kindness, propos'd it
+to the young Lady, her Friend, who was very fond of the Proposal, hoping
+that _Lucretia's_ Brother might bear 'em Company there for some little
+Time; but old Sir _Henry_ had quite different Thoughts of the Matter.
+The third Day, from the first Discourse of it, was assign'd for their
+Departure. In the mean Time young _Hardyman_ knew not what to think of
+the Divorce he was going to suffer; for he began to have some
+Apprehensions that the old Knight was sensible, and displeas'd, that
+they lov'd each other: Not but that the Family of the _Constances_ was
+as ancient and honourable as that of _Hardymans_, and was once endow'd
+with as plentiful an Estate, tho' now young _Lewis Constance_ had not
+above 1200_l._ a Year. (O the unkind Distance that Money makes, even
+between Friends!)
+
+Old 'Squire _Constance_ was a very worthy Gentleman, and Sir _Henry_ had
+a particular Friendship for him; but (perhaps) that dy'd with him, and
+only a neighbourly Kindness, or something more than an ordinary Respect,
+surviv'd to his Posterity. The Day came that was to carry 'em to the
+young Lady _Constance's_, and her Lover was preparing to attend 'em,
+when the old Gentleman ask'd him, What he meant by that Preparation? And
+whether he design'd to leave him alone? Or if he could think 'twere
+dutifully or decently done? To which the Son reply'd, That his Care of
+his Sister, and his Respect to a young Lady, in a Manner a Stranger to
+him, had misled his Thoughts from that Duty and Regard he ought to have
+pay'd to his Father, which he hop'd and begg'd he would pardon, tho' he
+design'd only just to have seen her safe there, and to have return'd at
+Night. With this the old Gentleman seem'd pacify'd for the present; and
+he bid him go take Leave of the Lady; which he did with a great deal of
+Concern, telling her, that he should be most miserable 'till he had the
+Happiness of seeing her again; however, he begg'd she would converse
+with him by Letters, which might (happily) a little palliate his
+Misfortune in her Absence: Adding, that he would be eternally hers, and
+none but hers. To which she made as kind a Return as he could wish;
+letting him know, that she desired to live no longer than she was
+assur'd that she was belov'd by him. Then taking as solemn a Farewel of
+her as if he had never been to see her more, after he had given his
+Sister a parting Kiss or two, he led 'em down to his Father, who saw 'em
+mounted, and attended by two of his Servants. After which he walked with
+'em about a Mile from the House, where he and young _Hardyman_ left 'em
+to persue their Journey.
+
+In their Return to the House, said Sir _Henry_, I find, Son, I have
+hitherto mistaken your Inclinations: I thought they had altogether
+prompted you to great and manly Actions and Attempts; but, to my Sorrow,
+I now find my Error. How, I beseech you, Sir? (ask'd the Son.) You are
+guilty of a foolish lazy Passion, (reply'd the Father) you are in Love,
+_Miles_; in Love with one who can no Way advance your Fortune, Family,
+nor Fame. 'Tis true, she has Beauty, and o'my Conscience she is virtuous
+too; but will Beauty and Virtue, with a small Portion of 2000_l._ answer
+to the Estate of near 4000_l._ a Year, which you must inherit if you
+survive me? Beauty and Virtue, Sir, (return'd young _Hardyman_) with the
+Addition of good Humour and Education, is a Dowry that may merit a
+Crown. Notion! Stuff! All Stuff (cry'd the old Knight) Money is Beauty,
+Virtue, good Humour, Education, Reputation, and high Birth. Thank
+Heaven, Sir, (said _Miles_) you don't live as if you believ'd your own
+Doctrine; you part with your Money very freely in your House-keeping,
+and I am happy to see it. 'Tis that I value it for; (reply'd the Father)
+I would therefore have thee, my Son, add to what in all Likelihood will
+be thine, so considerably, by Marriage, that thou mayst better deserve
+the Character of Hospitable _Hardyman_ than thy Father Sir
+_Henry_.--Come, _Miles_, (return'd he) thou shalt think no more on her.
+I can't avoid it, Sir, (said t'other.) Well, well, think of her you may,
+(said Sir _Henry_) but not as for a Wife; no, if you mean to continue in
+your Father's Love, be not in Love with Madam _Diana_, nor with any of
+her Nymphs, tho' never so fair or so chast--unless they have got Store
+of Money, Store of Money, _Miles_. Come, come in, we'll take a Game at
+_Chess_ before Dinner, if we can. I obey you, Sir, (return'd the Son)
+but if I win, I shall have the Liberty to love the Lady, I hope. I made
+no such Promise, (said the Knight) no, no Love without my Leave; but if
+you give me _Checque-Mate_, you shall have my Bay Gelding, and I would
+not take 50 Broad Pieces for him. I'll do my best, Sir, to deserve him,
+(said the young Gentleman.) 'Tis a mettl'd and fiery Beast (said Sir
+_Henry_.) They began their Game then, and had made about six Moves
+apiece before Dinner, which was serv'd up near four Hours after they
+sate down to play. It happen'd they had no Company din'd with 'em that
+Day; so they made a hasty Meal, and fell again to their former Dispute,
+which held 'em near six Hours longer; when, either the Knight's
+Inadvertency, or the young Gentleman's Skill and Application, gave him
+the Victory and Reward.
+
+The next Day they hunted; the Day following, the House was fill'd with
+Friends, and Strangers; who came with 'em; all which were certain of a
+hearty Welcome e'er they return'd. Other Days other Company came in, as
+Neighbours; and none of all that made their Visits, could be dismiss'd
+under three or four Days at soonest.
+
+Thus they past the Hours away for about six Weeks; in all which Time our
+Lover could get but one Opportunity of writing to his adorable, and that
+was by the Means of a Servant, who came with a Letter from his Sister
+_Lucretia_ to Sir _Henry_, and another to him, that held one inclos'd to
+him from the beautiful _Diana_; the Words, as perfectly as I can
+remember 'em, were these, or to this Effect:
+
+  _My +Hardyman+,_
+
+  _Too Dear!--No,--too much lov'd!--That's impossible too. How have I
+  enjoy'd my self with your Letters since my Absence from you! In the
+  first, how movingly you lament the unkind Distances of Time and
+  Place that thus divorces you from me! In another, in what tender
+  and prevailing Words your Passion is express'd! In a Third, what
+  invincible Arguments are urg'd to prove the Presence of your Soul to
+  me in the Absence of your Body! A Fourth, how fill'd with just
+  Complaints of a rigorous Father! What Assurances does the Fifth
+  give me of your speedy Journey hither! And the Sixth, (for no less
+  methought I should have receiv'd from you) confirms what you last
+  said to me, +That you will ever be mine, and none but mine.
+  --O boundless Blessing!+ --These (my Life) are the Dreams, which,
+  for six several Nights, have mock'd the real Passion of_
+
+  _Your forgotten +Diana+._
+
+He read it, smil'd, and kiss'd it, and then proceeded to examine his
+Sisters, which held a great many Expressions of a tender Affection, and
+withal gave him Notice, that there was a mighty Spark lately come from
+Town into those Parts, that made his Court to the young Lady
+_Constance_; desiring him therefore to be as sudden in his Visit, if he
+intended any, as Possibility would permit. This startled and stung him:
+Wherefore, taking the Opportunity of his Father's Retirement, to write
+to the young Lady and his Sister; he dispatch'd a Letter to _Lucretia_,
+wherein he thank'd her for her Intelligence and Caution, and promis'd to
+be with her the next Night at farthest, if alive; and, at the same Time,
+writ to this Purpose to _Diana_:
+
+  Thou only Blessing for which I wish to live,
+
+  _How delightfully do you punish my seeming Neglect! I acknowledge I
+  have not sent to you 'till now, but it was because it was utterly
+  impossible, my Father continually keeping so strict a Guard over me
+  himself, that not even +Mercury+ could evade or illude his
+  Vigilance. Alas! my Soul, he is now no Stranger to my Passion for
+  you, which he pretends, at least, is highly offensive to him, for
+  what Reasons I blush to think. But what signifies an Offence to him
+  of so generous a Nature as my Love! I am assured I was born for you,
+  or none other of your fair Sex, though attended with all the
+  Advantages of Birth and Fortune. I will therefore proceed in this
+  Affair, as if we were already united by the outward Ceremonies of
+  the Church, and forsake him and all the World for you, my better
+  Part! Be certain, therefore, that to-Morrow Night, e'er you sleep,
+  you shall see (my Life, my Soul, my All)_
+
+  Your most sincere, and
+  Most passionate Lover,
+  _Hardyman_.
+
+This, with the Letter to his Sister, he convey'd into the Servant's Hand
+that came from 'em, undiscover'd of his Father; who likewise dismiss'd
+the Messenger with his grave Epistle, full of musty Morals, to the two
+young gay Ladies. But he had an unlucky Thought, that he was overseen in
+giving his Son the Opportunity of retiring from him, whilst he was
+writing to his Daughter and t'other fair Creature, having a Jealousy
+that young _Hardyman_ might have made Use of that very Article of Time
+to the same End. This made him very uneasy and restless. On t'other
+Side, the young Gentleman though he was extreamly satisfy'd with those
+endearing Expressions of Love which he found in _Diana's_ Letter, yet he
+was all on Fire with the Apprehension of a Rival, and the Desire to see
+him, that he might dispute with him for the glorious Prize.
+
+The next Day, at Four in the Afternoon, they went to Bowls about a Mile
+off; where, after several Ends, the Knight and his Party lay all nearest
+about the Jack for the Game, 'till young _Hardyman_ put in a bold Cast,
+that beat all his Adversaries from the Block, and carry'd two of his
+Seconds close to it, his own Bowl lying partly upon it, which made them
+up. Ha! (cry'd a young Gentleman of his Side) bravely done, _Miles_,
+thou hast carry'd the Day, and kiss'd the Mistress. I hope I shall
+before 'tis dark yet, (return'd he.) Sir _Henry_ overhearing him, said,
+(his Face all glowing red with Passion) How dare you, Sir, express your
+self so freely in my Hearing? There, (persu'd he, and struck him a Blow
+on the Ear) I first salute you thus: Do you know where you are, and who
+I am? Yes, you are my Father, Sir, (reply'd young _Hardyman_, bowing.)
+If you see her to Night, (said the passionate Father) resolve to see me
+no more. By Heaven, and all my Hopes, no more I will, after this Minute,
+(return'd the Son, being retreated some Distance from him, out of his
+Hearing.) So taking his Leave of the Company, with the usual Ceremony,
+he went directly Home, where immediately he order'd his Servant
+_Goodlad_ to saddle their Horses, whilst he himself went up to his
+Chamber, and took all the Rings and Jewels that his Mother had left him,
+and the Money that he had then in his Possession, which altogether
+amounted to near twelve hundred Pounds; and packing up some Linnen in
+his Portmanteau, he quickly mounted with his Servant, and made his Way
+towards the Lady _Constance's_.
+
+'Twas near seven a Clock e'er they got within Sight of his Mistress's,
+when our Lover perceiv'd a Gentleman and his Servant mounted at some
+Distance on t'other Side of the House, as coming from _London_: This
+unfortunately happen'd to be _Lewis Constance_, just return'd from his
+Travels, whom young _Hardyman_ had never seen before, and therefore
+could not know him at that Time: Observing therefore that they made to
+the same Place for which he was design'd, he halted a little, taking
+Covert under a large Elm-Tree, within a hundred Paces of the House,
+where he had the unlucky Opportunity to see his Mistress and Sister come
+out; whom _Lewis_ perceiving at the same Time, alighted, and ran eagerly
+to embrace her, who receiv'd him with Arms expanded, crying, O my Dear,
+dearest Brother; but that last Word was stifled with Kisses. Do I once
+more hold thee in my Arms! O come in, and let me give my Joys a Loose!
+I am surpriz'd, and rave with extream Hapiness! O! thou art all to me
+that is valuable on Earth! (return'd he.) At these Words she, in a
+Manner, hal'd him in. This Sight was certainly the greatest
+Mortification to her Lover that ever Man surviv'd! He presently and
+positively concluded it could be none but that Rival, of whom his Sister
+had given him Advice in her Letter. What to do he could by no Means
+determine; sometimes he was for going in, and affronting him before his
+Mistress; a second Thought advis'd him to expect his coming out near
+that Place; upon another Consideration he was going to send him a
+Challenge, but by whom he knew not, for his Servant was as well known
+there as himself. At last he resolv'd to ride farther out of the Road,
+to see for some convenient Retreat that Night, where he might be
+undiscover'd: Such a Place he found about two Miles thence, at a good
+substantial Farmer's, who made him heartily welcome that Night, with the
+best Beer he had in his Cellar, so that he slept much better than he
+could have expected his Jealousy would have permitted: But the Morning
+renew'd and redoubled his Torture: But this jolly Landlord, hugely
+pleas'd with his good Company the Night past, visited him as he got out
+of his Bed, which was near two Hours after he wak'd; in which Time he
+had laid his Design how to proceed, in order to take Satisfaction of
+this Rival. He suffer'd himself, therefore, to be manag'd by the good
+Man of the House, who wou'd fain have made a Conquest of him; but he
+found that the young Gentleman could bear as much in his Head as he
+could on his Shoulders, which gave _Hardyman_ the Opportunity of keeping
+a Stowage yet for a good Dinner: After which they fell to bumping it
+about, 'till the Farmer fell asleep; when young _Hardyman_ retir'd into
+his Chamber, where, after a Turn or two, he writ as follows to his
+Mistress's Brother, whose Name he knew not; and therefore the Billet is
+not superscrib'd.
+
+  _SIR,_
+
+  _You have done me an unpardonable Injury; and if you are a
+  Gentleman, as you seem, you will give me Satisfaction within this
+  Hour at the Place whither this Messenger shall lead you. Bring
+  nothing with you but your Sword and your Servant, as I with mine,
+  to take Care of him that falls.--'Till I see you, I am your
+  Servant, &c._
+
+An Hour before Supper, his kind Host wak'd, and they eat heartily
+together that Night, but did not drink so plentifully as they had since
+their first Meeting; young _Hardyman_ telling him, that he was oblig'd
+to be mounted at the fore-mention'd Morning, in order to persue his
+Journey; and that, in the mean Time, he desir'd the Favour of him to let
+one of his Servants carry a Letter from him, to one that was then at the
+young Lady _Constance's_: To which t'other readily agreed. The young
+Gentleman then made him a Present of a Tobacco-Box, with the Head of
+King _Charles_ the First on the Lid, and his Arms on the Bottom in
+Silver; which was very acceptable to him, for he was a great Loyalist,
+tho' it was in the Height of _Oliver's Usurpation_. About four a-Clock
+in the Morning, as our jealous Lover had order'd him, one of the
+Servants came to him for the Letter; with which he receiv'd these
+Instructions, that he should deliver that Note into the Gentleman's own
+Hand, who came to the Lady _Constance's_ the Night before the last. That
+he should shew that Gentleman to the Field where young _Hardyman_,
+should deliver the Note to the Servant, which was just a Mile from
+either House; or that he should bring an Answer to the Note from that
+Gentleman. The Fellow was a good Scholar, tho' he could neither read nor
+write. For he learn'd his Lesson perfectly well, and repeated it
+punctually to _Lewis Constance_; who was strangely surpriz'd at what he
+found in the Billet. He ask'd the Messenger if he knew his Name that
+sent it; or if he were a Gentleman? Nay (Mass, quoth the Fellow)
+I warrant he's a Gentleman; for he has given me nine good Shillings
+here, for coming but hither to you; but for his Name, you may e'en name
+it as well as I--He has got one to wait a top of him almost as fine as
+himself, zure. The surpriz'd Traveller jump'd out of his Bed, slipt on
+his Gown, and call'd up his Servant: Thence he went to his Sister's
+Chamber, with whom _Lucretia_ lay: They both happen'd to be awake, and
+talking, as he came to the Door, which his Sister permitted him to
+unlock, and ask'd him the Reason of his so early Rising? Who reply'd,
+That since he could not sleep, he would take the Air a little. But
+first, Sister (continu'd he) I will refresh my self at your Lips: And
+now, Madam, (added he to _Lucretia_) I would beg a Cordial from you. For
+that (said his Sister) you shall be oblig'd to me this once; saying so,
+she gently turn'd _Lucretia's_ Face towards him, and he had his Wish.
+Ten to one, but he had rather continu'd with _Lucretia_, than have gone
+to her Brother, had he known him; for he lov'd her truly and
+passionately: But being a Man of true Courage and Honour, he took his
+Leave of 'em, presently dress'd, and tripp'd away with the Messenger,
+who made more than ordinary Haste, because of his Success, which was
+rewarded with another piece of Money; and he danc'd Home to the Sound of
+the Money in his Pocket.
+
+No sooner was the Fellow out of Hearing, than _Lewis_, coming up to his
+Adversary, shew'd him the Billet, and said, Sent you this to me, Sir?
+I did, Sir, reply'd _Hardyman_: I never saw you 'till now, return'd
+_Lewis_; how then could I injure you? 'Tis enough that I know it,
+answer'd _Miles_. But to satisfy you, you shall know that I am sensible
+that you pretend to a fair Lady, to whom I have an elder Title. In
+short, you entrench on my Prerogative. I own no Subjection to you,
+(return'd _Constance_) and my Title is as good as your Prerogative,
+which I will maintain as I can hold this, (continu'd he, and drew his
+Sword) Hah! Nobly done! (cry'd _Hardyman_ drawing) I could almost wish
+thou wert my Friend: You speak generously, return'd _Lewis_, I find I
+have to do with a Gentleman. Retire to a convenient Distance, said
+_Hardyman_ to _Goodlad_. If you come near while we are disputing, my
+Sword shall thank you for't; and you, Sir, retire! said _Constance_ to
+his Servant. And if you will keep your Life, keep your Distance! O my
+brave Enemy! (cry'd _Miles_) Give me thy Hand! Here they shook Hands,
+and gave one another the Compliment of the Hat, and then (said
+_Hardyman_) Come on, Sir! I am with you, Sir, (reply'd _Lewis_ standing
+on his Guard) they were both equally knowing in the Use of their Swords;
+so that they fought for some few Minutes without any Wound receiv'd on
+either Side. But, at last, _Miles_ being taller and much stronger than
+his Adversary, resolv'd to close with him; which he did, putting by a
+Pass that _Lewis_ made at him with his left Hand, and at the same Time
+he run him quite thro' the Body, threw him, and disarm'd him. Rise if
+thou can'st! (cry'd _Hardyman_) thou art really brave. I will not put
+thee to the Shame of asking thy Life. Alas! I cannot rise, (reply'd
+_Lewis_, endeavouring to get up) so short a Life as mine were not worth
+the Breath of a Coward.--Make Haste! Fly hence! For thou are lost if
+thou stay'st. My Friends are many and great; they will murther thee by
+Law. Fly! Fly in Time! Heaven forgive us both! Amen! (Cry'd _Miles_) I
+hope thou may'st recover! 'Tis Pity so much Bravery and Honour should be
+lost so early. Farewel.--And now Adieu to the fair and faithless
+_Diana_! Ha! (Cry'd _Constance_) O bloody Mistake! But could speak no
+more for Loss of Blood. _Hardyman_ heard not those last Words, being
+spoken with a fainting Voice, but in Haste mounted, and rode with all
+Speed for _London_, attended by _Goodlad_; whilst _Constance's_ Servant
+came up to him, and having all along travell'd with him, had two or
+three Times the Occasion of making Use of that Skill in Surgery which he
+had learn'd Abroad in _France_ and _Italy_, which he now again practis'd
+on his Master, with such Success, that in less than half an Hour, he put
+his Master in a Capacity of leaning on him; and so walking Home with
+him, tho' very gently and slowly. By the Way, _Lewis_ charg'd his
+Servant not to say which Way _Hardyman_ took, unless he design'd to quit
+his Service for ever. But pardon me, Sir! (return'd t'other) your Wound
+is very dangerous, and I am not sure that it is not mortal: And if so,
+give me Leave to say, I shall persue him over all _England_, for
+Vengeance of your Death. 'Twas a Mistake on both Sides, I find; (said
+_Lewis_) therefore think not of Revenge: I was as hot and as much to
+blame as he. They were near an Hour getting to the House, after his
+Blood was stopp'd. As he was led in, designing to be carry'd to his
+Chamber, and to take his Bed as sick of an Ague, his Sister and
+_Lucretia_ met him, and both swoon'd away at the Sight of him; but in a
+little Time they were recover'd, as if to torment him with their Tears,
+Sighs, and Lamentations. They ask'd him a thousand impertinent
+Questions, which he defer'd to answer, 'till he was laid in Bed; when he
+told his Sister, that the Gentleman who had thus treated him, bid her
+Adieu, by the Epithet of Fair and Faithless. For Heaven's Sake, (cry'd
+_Diana_) what Manner of Man was he? Very tall and well set, (reply'd her
+Brother) of an austere Aspect, but a well-favour'd Face, and
+prodigiously strong. Had he a Servant with him, Sir? (ask'd _Lucretia_)
+Yes, Madam (answer'd her Lover) and describ'd her Servant. Ah! my
+Prophetic Fears (cry'd she) It was my Brother, attended by _Goodlad_.
+Your Brother! Dearest and Fairest of your Sex, (said _Lewis_) Heaven
+send him safely out of _England_ then! Nay, be he who he may, I wish the
+same; for he is truly brave. Alas, my dear, my cruel _Hardyman_! (cry'd
+_Diana_) Your _Hardyman_, Sister! (said _Lewis_) Ah! would he had been
+so! You might then have had Hopes of an affectionate Brother's Life;
+which yet I will endeavour to preserve, that by the Enjoyment of your
+dear and nearest Conversation, Madam, (persu'd he to _Lucretia_) I may
+be prepar'd to endure the only greater Joys of Heaven. But O! My Words
+prey on my Spirits. And all the World, like a huge Ship at Anchor, turn
+round with the ebbing Tide.--I can no more. At these Words both the
+Ladies shriek'd aloud, which made him sigh, and move his Hand as well as
+he could toward the Door; his Attendant perceiv'd it, and told 'em he
+sign'd to them to quit the Room; as indeed it was necessary they should,
+that he might repose a while if possible, at least that he might not be
+oblig'd to talk, nor look much about him. They obey'd the Necessity, but
+with some Reluctancy, and went into their own Chamber, where they
+sigh'd, wept, and lamented their Misfortunes for near two Hours
+together: When all on a suddain, the Aunt, who had her Share of Sorrow
+too in this ugly Business, came running up to 'em, to let 'em know that
+old Sir _Harry Hardyman_ was below, and came to carry his Daughter Madam
+_Lucretia_ Home with him. This both surpriz'd and troubled the young
+Ladies, who were yet more disturb'd, when the Aunt told them, that he
+enquir'd for his Son, and would not be convinc'd by any Argument
+whatever; no, nor Protestation in her Capacity, that young _Hardyman_
+was not in the House, nor that he had not been entertain'd there ever
+since he left his Father--But come, Cousin and Madam, (said she to the
+young Ladies) go down to him immediately, or I fear he'll come up to
+you. _Lucretia_ knew she must, and t'other would not be there alone: So
+down they came to the Old testy Gentleman. Your Servant, Lady, (said he
+to _Diana_) _Lucretia_ then kneel'd for his Blessing. Very well, very
+well, (cry'd he hastily) God bless you! Where's your Brother? Ha!
+Where's your Brother? I know not, Sir, (she answer'd) I have not seen
+him since I have been here. No, (said he) not since you have been in
+this Parlour last, you mean. I mean, Sir, (she return'd) upon my Hopes
+of yours and Heaven's Blessing, I have not seen him since I saw you,
+Sir, within a Mile of our own House. Ha! _Lucretia_, Ha! (cry'd the old
+Infidel) have a Care you pull not mine and Heaven's Curse on your Head!
+Believe me, Sir, (said _Diana_) to my Knowledge, she has not. Why, Lady,
+(ask'd the passionate Knight) are you so curious and fond of him your
+self, that you will allow no Body else the Sight of him? Not so much as
+his own Sister? I don't understand you, Sir, (she reply'd) for, by my
+Hopes of Heaven, I have not seen him neither since that Day I left you.
+Hey! pass and repass, (cry'd the old suspicious Father) _presto_, be
+gone!--This is all Conjuration. 'Tis diabolical, dealing with the Devil!
+In Lies, I mean, on one Side or other; for he told me to my Teeth, at
+least, he said in my Hearing, on the Bowling-Green, but two Nights
+since, that he hop'd to see your Ladyship (for I suppose you are his
+Mistress) that Night e're 'twas dark: Upon which I gave him only a kind
+and fatherly Memorandum of his Duty, and he immediately left the Company
+and me, who have not set Eye on him, nor heard one Syllable of him
+since.--Now, judge you, Lady, if I have not Reason to conclude that he
+has been and is above still! No, (said the Aunt) you have no Reason to
+conclude so, when they both have told you solemnly the contrary; and
+when I can add, that I will take a formal Oath, if requir'd, that he has
+not been in this House since my Cousin _Lewis_ went to travel, nor
+before, to the best of my Memory; and I am confident, neither my Cousin
+_Diana_, nor the Lady your Daughter, have seen him since they left him
+with you, Sir--I wish, indeed, my dear Cousin _Lewis_ had not seen him
+since. How! What's that you say, good Lady? (ask'd the Knight) Is Mr.
+_Lewis Constance_ then in _England_? And do you think that he has seen
+him so lately? for your Discourse seems to imply as much. Sir _Henry_,
+(reply'd the Aunt) you are very big with Questions, but I will endeavour
+to satisfy you in all of 'em.--My Cousin _Lewis Constance_ is in
+_England_; nay, more, he is now in his Chamber a-Bed, and dangerously,
+if not mortally, wounded, by 'Squire _Miles Hardyman_, your Son. Heaven
+forbid, (cry'd the Father) sure 'tis impossible. All Things are so to
+the Incredulous. Look you, Sir, (continu'd she, seeing _Lewis's_ Servant
+come in) do you remember his _French_ Servant _Albert_, whom he took
+some Months before he left _England_?--There he is. Humh! (said the old
+Sceptic) I think verily 'tis the same. Ay, Sir, (said the Servant) I am
+the same, at your Service. How does your Master? (ask'd Sir _Henry_)
+Almost as bad as when the 'Squire your Son left him, (reply'd _Albert_)
+only I have stopp'd the Bleeding, and he is now dozing a little; to say
+the Truth, I have only Hopes of his Life because I wish it. When was
+this done? (the Knight inquir'd) Not three Hours since, (return'd
+t'other.) What was the Occasion? (said Sir _Henry_) An ugly Mistake on
+both Sides; your Son, as I understand, not knowing my Master, took him
+for his Rival, and bad him quit his Pretensions to the fair Lady, for
+whom he had a Passion: My Master thought he meant the Lady _Lucretia_,
+your Daughter, Sir, with whom I find he is passionately in
+Love,--and--Very well--so--go on! (interrupted the Knight with a
+Sigh)--and was resolv'd to dispute his Title with him; which he did; but
+the 'Squire is as strong as the Horse he rides on!--And! 'tis a
+desperate Wound!--Which Way is he gone, canst thou tell? (ask'd the
+Father) Yes, I can; but I must not, 'tis as much as my Place is worth.
+My Master would not have him taken for all the World; nay, I must needs
+own he is a very brave Person. But you may let me know; (said the
+Father) you may be confident I will not expose him to the Law: Besides,
+if it please Heaven that your Master recovers, there will be no
+Necessity of a Prosecution.--Prithee let me know! You'll pardon me, Sir,
+(said _Lewis's_ trusty Servant) my Master, perhaps, may give you that
+Satisfaction; and I'll give you Notice, Sir--when you may conveniently
+discourse him.--Your humble Servant, Sir, (he added, bowing, and went
+out.) The old Gentleman was strangely mortify'd at this News of his Son;
+and his Absence perplex'd him more than any thing besides in the
+Relation. He walk'd wildly up and down the Room, sighing, foaming, and
+rolling his Eyes in a dreadful Manner; and at the Noise of any Horse on
+the Road, out he would start as nimbly as if he were as youthful as his
+Son, whom he sought in vain among those Passengers. Then returning, he
+cry'd out to her, O _Lucretia_! Your Brother! Where's your Brother?--O
+my Son! the Delight, Comfort, and Pride of my Old Age! Why dost thou fly
+me? Then answering as for young _Hardyman_, (said he) you struck me
+publickly before much Company, in the Face of my Companions.--Come,
+(reply'd he for himself) 'Twas Passion, _Miles_, 'twas Passion; Youth is
+guilty of many Errors, and shall not Age be allow'd their Infirmities?
+_Miles_, thou know'st I love thee.--Love thee above Riches or long
+Life.--O! Come to my Arms, dear Fugitive, and make Haste to preserve
+his, who gave thee thy Life!--Thus he went raving about the Room, whilst
+the sorrowful, compassionate Ladies express'd their Grief in Tears.
+After this loving Fit was over with him, he would start out in a
+contrary Madness, and threaten his Son with the greatest and the
+heaviest Punishment he could imagine; insomuch, that the young Ladies,
+who had Thoughts before of perswading _Lewis_ to inform Sir _Harry_
+which Way his Son rode, were now afraid of proposing any such Thing to
+him. Dinner was at last serv'd in, to which _Diana_ with much Difficulty
+prevail'd with him to sit. Indeed, neither he, nor any there present,
+had any great Appetite to eat; their Grief had more than satiated 'em.
+About five a-Clock, _Albert_ signify'd to the Knight, that he might then
+most conveniently speak with his Master; but he begg'd that he would not
+disturb him beyond half a Quarter of an Hour: He went up therefore to
+him, follow'd by the young Lady and the Aunt: _Lewis_ was the first that
+spoke, who, putting his Hand a little out of the Bed, said with a Sigh,
+Sir _Henry_, I hope you will pity a great Misfortune, and endeavour to
+pardon me, who was the greatest Occasion of it; which has doubly
+punish'd me in these Wounds, and in the Loss of that Gentleman's
+Conversation, whose only Friendship I would have courted. Heaven pardon
+you both the Injuries done to one another; (return'd the Knight)
+I grieve to see you thus, and the more, when I remember my self that
+'twas done by my Son's unlucky Hand. Would he were here.--So would not I
+(said _Lewis_) 'till I am assur'd my Wound is not mortal, which I have
+some Reasons to believe it is not. Let me beg one Favour of you, Sir,
+(said Sir _Henry_) I beseech you do not deny me. It must be a very
+difficult Matter that you, Sir, shall not command of me, (reply'd
+_Constance_.) It can't be difficult to you to tell me, or to command
+your Servant to let me know what Road my Son took. He may be at
+_Bristol_ long e're this, (return'd _Lewis_.) That was the Road they
+took (added the Servant.) I thank you, my worthy, my kind Friend! (said
+the afflicted Father) I will study to deserve this Kindness of you. How
+do you find your self now? that I may send him an Account by my Servant,
+if he is to be found in that City? Pretty hearty, (return'd _Lewis_) if
+the Wounds your adorable Daughter here has given me, do not prove more
+fatal than my Friend's your Son's. She blush'd, and he persu'd, My
+Servant has sent for the best Physician and Surgeon in all these Parts;
+I expect them every Minute, and then I shall be rightly inform'd in the
+State of my Body. I will defer my Messenger 'till then (said Sir
+_Henry_.) I will leave that to your Discretion, Sir, (return'd
+_Constance_.) As they were discoursing of 'em, in came the learned Sons
+of Art: The Surgeon prob'd his Wound afresh, which he found very large,
+but not mortal, his Loss of Blood being the most dangerous of all his
+Circumstances. The Country-_AEsculapius_ approv'd of his first Intention,
+and of his Application; so dressing it once himself, he left the Cure of
+Health to the Physician, who prescrib'd some particular Remedy against
+Fevers, and a Cordial or two; took his Fee without any Scruples, as the
+Surgeon had done before, and then took both their Leaves. Sir _Henry_
+was as joyful as _Lewis's_ Sister, or as his own Daughter _Lucretia_,
+who lov'd him perfectly, to hear the Wound was not mortal; and
+immediately dispatch'd a Man and Horse to _Bristol_, in Search of his
+Son: The Messenger return'd in a short Time with this Account only, that
+such a kind of a Gentleman and his Servant took Shipping the Day before,
+as 'twas suppos'd, for _London_. This put the old Gentleman into a
+perfect Frenzy. He ask'd the Fellow, Why the Devil he did not give his
+Son the Letter he sent to him? Why he did not tell him, that his poor
+old forsaken Father would receive him with all the Tenderness of an
+indulgent Parent? And why he did not assure his Son, from him, that on
+his Return, he should be bless'd with the Lady _Diana_? And a thousand
+other extravagant Questions, which no body could reply to any better
+than the Messenger, who told him, trembling; First, That he could not
+deliver the Letter to his Son, because he could not find him: And
+Secondly and Lastly, being an Answer in full to all his Demands, That he
+could not, nor durst tell the young Gentleman any of those kind Things,
+since he had no Order to do so; nor could he enter into his Worship's
+Heart, to know his Thoughts: Which Return, tho' it was reasonable
+enough, and might have been satisfactory to any other Man in better
+Circumstances of Mind; so enrag'd Sir _Henry_, that he had certainly
+kill'd the poor Slave, had not the Fellow sav'd his Life by jumping down
+almost half the Stairs, and continuing his Flight, Sir _Henry_ still
+persuing him, 'till he came to the Stables, where finding the Door open,
+Sir _Henry_ ran in and saddl'd his Horse his own self, without staying
+for any Attendant, or so much as taking his Leave of the Wounded
+Gentleman, or Ladies, or giving Orders to his Daughter when she should
+follow him Home, whither he was posting alone; but the Servant who came
+out with him, accidentally seeing him as he rode out at the farthest
+Gate, so timely persu'd him, that he overtook him about a Mile and half
+off the House. Home they got then in less than three Hours Time, without
+one Word or Syllable all the Way on either Side, unless now and then a
+hearty Sigh or Groan from the afflicted Father, whose Passion was so
+violent, and had so disorder'd him, that he was constrain'd immediately
+to go to Bed, where he was seiz'd with a dangerous Fever, which was
+attended with a strange _Delirium_, or rather with an absolute Madness,
+of which the Lady _Lucretia_ had Advice that same Night, tho' very late.
+This News so surpriz'd and afflicted her, as well for the Danger of her
+Lover as of her Father, that it threw her into a Swoon; out of which,
+when, with some Difficulty she was recover'd, with great Perplexity and
+Anguish of Mind she took a sad Farewel of the Lady _Diana_, but durst
+not be seen by her Brother on such an Occasion, as of taking Leave, lest
+it should retard his Recovery: To her Father's then she was convey'd
+with all convenient Expedition: The old Gentleman was so assiduously and
+lawfully attended by his fair affectionate Daughter, that in less than
+ten Days Time his Fever was much abated, and his _Delirium_ had quite
+left him, and he knew every Body about him perfectly; only the Thoughts
+of his Son, by Fits, would choak and discompose him: However, he was
+very sensible of his Daughter's Piety in her Care of him, which was no
+little Comfort to him: Nor, indeed, could he be otherwise than sensible
+of it by her Looks, which were then pale and thin, by over-watching;
+which occasion'd her Sickness, as it caus'd her Father's Health: For no
+sooner could Sir _Henry_ walk about the Room, than she was forc'd to
+keep her Bed; being afflicted with the same Distemper from which her
+Father was yet but hardly freed: Her Fever was high, but the _Delirium_
+was not so great: In which, yet, she should often discover her Passion
+for _Lewis Constance_, her wounded Lover; lamenting the great Danger his
+Life had been in, as if she had not receiv'd daily Letters of his
+Amendment. Then again, she would complain of her Brother's Absence, but
+more frequently of her Lover's; which her Father hearing, sent to invite
+him to come to her, with his Sister, as soon as young _Constance_ was
+able to undertake the Journey; which he did the very next Day; and he
+and _Diana_ gave the languishing Lady a Visit in her Chamber, just in
+the happy Time of an Interval, which, 'tis suppos'd, was the sole Cause
+of her Recovery; for the Sight of her Lover and Friend was better than
+the richest Cordial in her Distemper. In a very short Time she left her
+Bed, when Sir _Henry_, to give her perfect Health, himself join'd the
+two Lovers Hands; and not many Weeks after, when her Beauty and Strength
+return'd in their wonted Vigour, he gave her 10000_l._ and his Blessing,
+which was a double Portion, on their Wedding-Day, which he celebrated
+with all the Cost and Mirth that his Estate and Sorrow would permit:
+Sorrow for the Loss of his Son, I mean, which still hung upon him, and
+still hover'd and croak'd over and about him, as Ravens, and other Birds
+of Prey, about Camps and dying People. His Melancholy, in few Months,
+increas'd to that Degree, that all Company and Conversation was odious
+to him, but that of Bats, Owls, Night-Ravens, _&c._ Nay, even his
+Daughter, his dear and only Child, as he imagin'd, was industriously
+avoided by him. In short, it got so intire a Mastery of him, that he
+would not nor did receive any Sustenance for many Days together; and at
+last it confin'd him to his Bed; where he lay wilfully speechless for
+two Days and Nights; his Son-in-Law, or his own Daughter, still
+attending a-Nights by Turns; when on the third Night, his _Lucretia_
+sitting close by him in Tears, he fetch'd a deep Sigh, which ended in a
+pitious Groan, and call'd faintly, _Lucretia! Lucretia!_ The Lady being
+then almost as melancholy as her Father, did not hear him 'till the
+third Call; when falling on her Knees, and embracing his Hand, which he
+held out to her, she return'd with Tears then gushing out, Yes, Sir, it
+is I, your _Lucretia_, your dutiful, obedient, and affectionate
+_Lucretia_, and most sorrowfully-afflicted Daughter. Bless her, Heaven!
+(said the Father) I'm going now, (continu'd he weakly) O _Miles_! yet
+come and take thy last Farewel of thy dear Father! Art thou for ever
+gone from me? Wilt thou not come and take thy dying Father's Blessing?
+Then I will send it after thee. Bless him! O Heaven! Bless him! Sweet
+Heaven bless my Son! My _Miles_! Here he began to faulter in his Speech,
+when the Lady gave a great Shriek, which wak'd and alarm'd her Husband,
+who ran down to 'em in his Night-Gown, and, kneeling by the Bed-side
+with his Lady, begg'd their departing Father's Blessing on them. The
+Shriek had (it seems) recall'd the dying Gentleman's fleeting Spirits,
+who moving his Hand as well as he could, with Eyes lifted up, as it
+were, whisper'd, Heaven bless you both! Bless me! Bless my--O _Miles_!
+Then dy'd. His Death (no Doubt) was attended with the Sighs, Tears, and
+unfeign'd Lamentations of the Lady and her Husband; for, bating his
+sudden Passion, he was certainly as good a Father, Friend, and
+Neighbour, as _England_ could boast. His Funeral was celebrated then
+with all the Ceremonies due to his Quality and Estate: And the young
+happy Couple felt their dying Parent's Blessing in their mutual Love and
+uninterrupted Tranquillity: Whilst (alas) it yet far'd otherwise with
+their Brother; of whose Fortune it is fit I should now give you an
+Account.
+
+From _Bristol_ he arriv'd to _London_ with his Servant _Goodlad_; to
+whom he propos'd, either that he should return to Sir _Henry_, or share
+in his Fortunes Abroad: The faithful Servant told him, he would rather
+be unhappy in his Service, than quit it for a large Estate. To which his
+kind Master return'd, (embracing him) No more my Servant now, but my
+Friend! No more _Goodlad_, but _Truelove_! And I am--_Lostall_! 'Tis a
+very proper Name, suitable to my wretched Circumstances. So after some
+farther Discourse on their Design, they sold their Horses, took
+Shipping, and went for _Germany_, where then was the Seat of War.
+
+_Miles's_ Person and Address soon recommended him to the chief Officers
+in the Army; and his Friend _Truelove_ was very well accepted with 'em.
+They both then mounted in the same Regiment and Company, as Volunteers;
+and in the first Battel behav'd themselves like brave _English_-men;
+especially _Miles_, whom now we must call Mr. _Lostall_, who signaliz'd
+himself that Day so much, that his Captain and Lieutenant being kill'd,
+he succeeded to the former in the Command of the Company, and _Truelove_
+was made his Lieutenant. The next Field-Fight _Truelove_ was kill'd, and
+_Lostall_ much wounded, after he had sufficiently reveng'd his Friend's
+Death by the Slaughter of many of the Enemies. Here it was that his
+Bravery was so particular, that he was courted by the Lieutenant-General
+to accept of the Command of a Troop of Horse; which gave him fresh and
+continu'd Occasions of manifesting his Courage and Conduct. All this
+while he liv'd too generously for his Pay; so that in the three or four
+Years Time, the War ceasing, he was oblig'd to make use of what Jewels
+and Money he had left of his own, for his Pay was quite spent. But at
+last his whole Fund being exhausted to about fifty or threescore Pounds,
+he began to have Thoughts of returning to his native Country, _England_;
+which in a few Weeks he did, and appear'd at the _Tower_ to some of his
+Majesty's (King _Charles_ the Second's) Officers, in a very plain and
+coarse, but clean and decent Habit: To one of these Officers he
+address'd himself, and desir'd to mount his Guards under his Command,
+and in his Company; who very readily receiv'd him into Pay. (The Royal
+Family had not then been restor'd much above a Twelve-Month.) In this
+Post, his Behaviour was such, that he was generally belov'd both by the
+Officers and private Soldiers, most punctually and exactly doing his
+Duty; and when he was off the Guard, he would employ himself in any
+laborious Way whatsoever to get a little Money. And it happen'd, that
+one Afternoon, as he was helping to clean the _Tower_ Ditch, (for he
+refus'd not to do the meanest Office, in Hopes to expiate his Crime by
+such voluntary Penances) a Gentleman, very richly dress'd, coming that
+Way, saw him at Work; and taking particular Notice of him, thought he
+should know that Face of his, though some of the Lines had been struck
+out by a Scar or two: And regarding him more earnestly, he was at last
+fully confirm'd, that he was the Man he thought him; which made him say
+to the Soldier, Prithee, Friend, What art thou doing there? The unhappy
+Gentleman return'd, in his Country Dialect, Why, Master, Cham helping to
+clear the _Tower_ Ditch, zure, an't please you. 'Tis very hot, (said
+t'other) Art thou not a dry? Could'st thou not drink? Ay, Master,
+reply'd the Soldier, with all my Heart. Well, (said the Gentleman) I'll
+give thee a Flaggon or two; Where is the best Drink? At yonder House,
+Master, (answer'd the Soldier) where you see yon Soldier at the Door,
+there be the best Drink and the best Measure, zure: Chil woit a top o
+your Worship az Zoon as you be got thare. I'll take thy Word, said
+t'other, and went directly to the Place; where he had hardly sate down,
+and call'd for some Drink, e'er the Soldier came in, to whom the
+Gentleman gave one Pot, and drank to him out of another. _Lostall_, that
+was the Soldier, whipp'd off his Flaggon, and said, bowing, Well,
+Master, God bless your Worship! Ich can but love and thank you, and was
+going; but the Gentleman, who had farther Business with him, with some
+Difficulty prevail'd on him to sit down, for a Minute or two, after the
+Soldier had urg'd that he must mind his Business, for he had yet half a
+Day's Work almost to complete, and he would not wrong any Body of a
+Quarter of an Hour's Labour for all the World. Th'art a very honest
+Fellow, I believe, said his Friend; but prithee what does thy whole
+Day's Work come to? Eighteen-pence, reply'd _Lostall_: Look, there 'tis
+for thee, said the Gentleman. Ay; but an't like your Worship, who must
+make an End of my Day's Business? (the Soldier ask'd.) Get any Body else
+to do it for thee, and I'll pay him. Can'st prevail with one of thy
+Fellow-Soldiers to be so kind? Yes, Master, thank God, cham not so ill
+belov'd nother. Here's honest _Frank_ will do so much vor me, Zure: Wilt
+not, _Frank_? (withal my Heart, _Tom_, reply'd his Comrade.) Here,
+Friend, (said _Lostall's_ new Acquaintance) here's Eighteen-pence for
+thee too. I thank your Honour, return'd the Soldier, but should have but
+Nine-pence. No Matter what thou should'st have, I'll give thee no less,
+said the strange Gentleman. Heavens bless your Honour! (cry'd the
+Soldier) and after he had swigg'd off a Pot of good Drink, took
+_Lostall's_ Pick-ax and Spade, and went about his Business. Now (said
+the Stranger) let us go and take a Glass of Wine, if there be any that
+is good hereabouts, for I fancy thou'rt a mighty honest Fellow; and I
+like thy Company mainly. Cham very much bound to behold you, Master,
+(return'd _Lostall_) and chave a Fancy that you be and a
+_West_-Country-Man, zure; (added he) you do a take zo like en; vor
+_Mainly_ be our Country Word, zure. We'll talk more of that by and by,
+said t'other: Mean while I'll discharge the House, and walk whither thou
+wilt lead me. That shan't be var, zure; (return'd _Lostall_) vor the
+_Gun_ upon the Hill there, has the best Report for Wine and Zeck Ale
+hereabouts. There they arriv'd then in a little Time, got a Room to
+themselves, and had better Wine than the Gentleman expected. After a
+Glass or two a-piece, his unknown Friend ask'd _Lostall_ what
+Country-Man he was? To whom the Soldier reply'd, That he was a
+_Zomerzetshire_ Man, zure. Did'st thou never hear then of one Sir _Henry
+Hardyman_? (the Stranger ask'd.) Hier of'n! (cry'd t'other) yes, zure;
+chave a zeen 'en often. Ah! Zure my Mother and I have had many a
+zwindging Pitcher of good Drink, and many a good Piece of Meat at his
+House. Humh! (cry'd the Gentleman) It seems your Mother and you knew
+him, then? Ay, zure, mainly well; ich mean, by zight, mainly well, by
+zight. They had a great deal of farther Discourse, which lasted near two
+Hours; in which Time the Gentleman had the Opportunity to be fully
+assur'd, that this was _Miles Hardyman_, for whom he took him at first.
+At that first Conference, _Miles_ told him his Name was honest _Tom
+Lostall_; and that he had been a Souldier about five Years; having first
+obtain'd the Dignity of a Serjeant, and afterward had the Honour to be a
+Trooper, which was the greatest Post of Honour that he could boast of.
+At last, his new Friend ask'd _Miles_, if he should see him there at
+Three in the Afternoon the next Day? _Miles_ return'd, That he should be
+at his Post upon Duty then; and that without Leave from his Lieutenant,
+who then would command the Guards at the _Tower_, he could not stir a
+Foot with him. His Friend return'd, That he would endeavour to get Leave
+for him for an Hour or two: After which they drank off their Wine; the
+Gentleman pay'd the Reckoning, and gave _Miles_ a Broad piece to drink
+more Wine 'till he came, if he pleas'd, and then parted 'till the next
+Day. When his Friend was gone, _Miles_ had the Opportunity of reflecting
+on that Day's Adventure. He thought he had seen the Gentleman's Face,
+and heard his Voice, but where, and upon what Occasion, he could not
+imagine; but he was in Hopes, that on a second Interview, he might
+recollect himself where it was he had seen him. 'Twas exactly Three
+a-Clock the next Afternoon, when his Friend came in his own
+Mourning-Coach, accompany'd by another, who look'd like a Gentleman,
+though he wore no Sword. His Friend was attended by two of his own
+Foot-men in black Liveries. _Miles_ was at his Post, when his Friend
+ask'd where the Officer of the Guard was? The Soldier reply'd, That he
+was at the _Gun_. The Gentleman went directly to the Lieutenant, and
+desir'd the Liberty of an Hour or two for _Miles_, then _Tom Lostall_,
+to take a Glass of Wine with him: The Lieutenant return'd, That he might
+keep him a Week or two, if he pleas'd, and he would excuse him; for
+(added he) there is not a more obedient nor better Soldier than _Tom_
+was in the whole Regiment; and that he believ'd he was as brave as
+obedient. The Gentleman reply'd, That he was very happy to hear so good
+a Character of him; and having obtain'd Leave for his Friend, made his
+Compliment, and return'd, to take _Miles_ along with him: When he came
+to the trusty Centinel, he commanded the Boot to be let down, and
+desir'd _Miles_ to come into the Coach, telling him, That the Officer
+had given him Leave. Ah! Sir, (return'd _Miles_) altho' he has,
+I cannot, nor will quit my Post, 'till I am reliev'd by a Corporal; on
+which, without any more Words, the Gentleman once more went to the
+Lieutenant, and told him what the Soldier's Answer was. The Officer
+smil'd, and reply'd, That he had forgot to send a Corporal with him,
+e'er he was got out o' Sight, and begg'd the Gentleman's Pardon that he
+had given him a second Trouble. Then immediately calling for a Corporal,
+he dispatch'd him with the Gentleman to relieve _Miles_, who then, with
+some little Difficulty, was prevail'd on to step into the Coach, which
+carry'd 'em into some Tavern or other in _Leadenhall-street_; where,
+after a Bottle or two, his Friend told _Miles_, that the Gentleman who
+came with him in the Coach, had some Business with him in another Room.
+_Miles_ was surpriz'd at that, and look'd earnestly on his Friend's
+Companion; and seeing he had no Sword, pull'd off his own, and walk'd
+with him into the next Room; where he ask'd the Stranger, What Business
+he had with him? To which the other reply'd, That he must take Measure
+of him. How! (cry'd _Miles_) take Measure of me? That need not be; for I
+can tell how tall I am. I am (continu'd he) six Foot and two Inches
+high. I believe as much (said t'other.) But, Sir, I am a Taylor, and
+must take Measure of you to make a Suit of Cloaths or two for you; or
+half a Dozen, if you please. Pray, good Mr. Taylor (said _Miles_) don't
+mock me; for tho' cham a poor Fellow, yet cham no Vool zure. I don't,
+indeed, Sir, reply'd t'other. Why, who shall pay for 'em? Your Friend,
+the Gentleman in the next Room: I'll take his Word for a thousand
+Pounds, and more; and he has already promis'd to be my Pay-Master for as
+many Suits as you shall bespeak, and of what Price you please. Ah! mary,
+(cry'd _Miles_) he is a Right Worshipful Gentleman; and ich caunt but
+love 'n and thank 'n. The Taylor then took Measure of him, and they
+return'd to the Gentleman; who, after a Bottle or two a-piece, ask'd
+_Miles_ when he should mount the Guard next? _Miles_ told him four Days
+thence, and he should be posted in the same Place, and that his Captain
+would then command the Guard, who was a very noble Captain, and a good
+Officer. His Friend, who then had no farther Business with _Miles_ at
+that Time, once more parted with him, 'till Three a-Clock the next
+Saturday; when he return'd, and ask'd if the Captain were at the _Gun_,
+or no? _Miles_ assur'd him he was. His Friend then went down directly to
+the Tavern, where he found the Captain, the Lieutenant, and Ensign; upon
+his Address the Captain most readily gave his Consent that _Miles_ might
+stay with him a Month, if he would; and added many Things in Praise of
+his trusty and dutiful Soldier. The Gentleman then farther entreated,
+that he might have the Liberty to give him and the other Officers a
+Supper that Night; and that they would permit their poor Soldier, _Tom
+Lostall_, the Honour to eat with 'em there. To the first, the Captain
+and the rest seem'd something averse; but to the last they all readily
+agreed; and at length the Gentleman's Importunity prevail'd on 'em to
+accept his Kindness, he urging that it was in Acknowledgment of all
+those Favours they had plac'd on his Friend _Tom_. With his pleasing
+Success he came to _Miles_, not forgetting then to take a Corporal with
+him. At this second Invitation into the Coach, _Miles_ did not use much
+Ceremony, but stepp'd in, and would have sate over against the
+Gentleman, by the Gentleman-Taylor; but his Friend oblig'd him to sit on
+the same Seat with him. They came then again to their old Tavern in
+_Leadenhall-street_, and were shew'd into a large Room; where they had
+not been above six Minutes, e'er the Gentleman's Servants, and another,
+who belong'd to Monsieur Taylor, brought two or three large Bags; out of
+one they took Shirts, half Shirts, Bands, and Stockings; out of another,
+a Mourning-Suit; out of a third, a Mourning Cloak, Hat, and a large
+Hatband, with black Cloth-Shoes; and one of the Gentleman's Servants
+laid down a Mourning Sword and Belt on the Table: _Miles_ was amaz'd at
+the Sight of all these Things, and kept his Eyes fix'd on 'em, 'till his
+Friend cry'd, Come, _Tom_! Put on your Linnen first! Here! (continu'd he
+to his Servant) Bid 'em light some Faggots here! For, tho' 'tis Summer,
+the Linnen may want Airing, and there may be some ugly cold Vapours
+about the Room, which a good Fire will draw away. _Miles_ was still in a
+Maze! But the Fire being well kindled, the Gentleman himself took a
+Shirt, and air'd it; commanding one of his Servants to help _Tom_ to
+undress. _Miles_ was strangely out o' Countenance at this, and told his
+Friend, that he was of Age and Ability to pull off his own Cloaths; that
+he never us'd to have any _Valets de Chambre_; (as they call'd 'em) and
+for his Part, he was asham'd, and sorry that so worshipful a Gentleman
+should take the Trouble to warm a Shirt for him. Besides (added he)
+chave Heat enough (zure) to warm my Shirt. In short, he put on his
+Shirt, half Shirt, his Cloaths and all Appurtenances, as modishly as the
+best _Valet de Chambre_ in _Paris_ could. When _Miles_ was dress'd, his
+Friend told him, That he believ'd he look'd then more like himself than
+ever he had done since his Return to _England_. Ah! Noble Sir! said
+_Miles_. _Vine Feathers make vine Birds._ But pray, Sir, Why must I wear
+Mourning? Because there is a particular Friend of mine dead, for whose
+Loss I can never sufficiently mourn my self; and therefore I desire that
+all whom I love should mourn with me for him, return'd the Gentleman;
+not but that there are three other Suits in Hand for you at this Time.
+_Miles_ began then to suspect something of his Father's Death, which had
+like to have made him betray his Grief at his Eyes; which his Friend
+perceiving, took him by the Hand, and said, Here, my dear Friend! To the
+Memory of my departed Friend! You are so very like what he was,
+considering your Difference in Years, that I can't choose but love you
+next to my Wife and my own Sister. Ah! Sir! (said he, and lapping his
+Handkerchief to his Eyes) How can I deserve this of you? I have told you
+(reply'd t'other.) But--Come! Take your Glass, and about with it! He did
+so; and they were indifferently pleasant, the Subject of Discourse being
+chang'd, 'till about a quarter after Five; when the Gentleman call'd to
+pay, and took Coach with _Miles_ only, for the _Gun-Tavern_; where he
+order'd a very noble Supper to be got ready with all Expedition; mean
+while they entertain'd one another, in a Room as distant from the
+Officers as the House would permit: _Miles_ relating to his new Friend
+all his Misfortunes Abroad, but still disguising the true Occasion of
+his leaving _England_. Something more than an Hour after, one of the
+Drawers came to let 'em know, that Supper was just going to be serv'd
+up. They went then directly to the Officers, whom they found all
+together, with two or three Gentlemen more of their Acquaintance: They
+all saluted the Gentleman who had invited 'em first, and then
+complimented _Miles_, whom they mistook for another Friend of the
+Gentleman's that gave 'em the Invitation; not in the least imagining
+that it was _Tom Lostall_. When they were all sat, the Captain ask'd,
+Where is our trusty and well-beloved Friend Mr. _Thomas Lostall_? Most
+honoured Captain! (reply'd _Miles_) I am here, most humbly at your
+Honour's Service, and all my other noble Officers. Ha! _Tom_! (cry'd the
+Lieutenant) I thought indeed when thou first cam'st in, that I should
+have seen that hardy Face of thine before. Face, Hands, Body, and Heart
+and all, are at your, all your Honours Service, as long as I live. We
+doubt it not, dear _Tom_! (return'd his Officers, unanimously.) Come,
+noble Gentlemen! (interrupted _Miles's_ Friend) Supper is here, let us
+fall to: I doubt not that after Supper I shall surprise you farther.
+They then fell to eating heartily; and after the Table was clear'd they
+drank merrily: At last, after the King's, Queen's, Duke's, and all the
+Royal Family's, and the Officers Healths, his Friend begg'd that he
+might begin a Health to _Tom Lostall_; which was carry'd about very
+heartily; every one had a good Word for him, one commending his Bravery,
+another, his ready Obedience; and a third, his Knowledge in material
+Discipline, _&c._ 'till at length it grew late, their Stomachs grew
+heavy, and their Heads light; when the Gentleman, _Miles's_ Friend,
+calling for a Bill, he found it amounted to seven Pounds ten Shillings,
+odd Pence, which he whisper'd _Tom Lostall_ to pay; who was in a Manner
+Thunder-struck at so strange a Sound; but, recollecting himself, he
+return'd, That if his Friend pleas'd, he would leave his Cloak, and any
+Thing else, 'till the House were farther satisfy'd: T'other said, He was
+sure _Miles_ had Money enough about him to discharge two such Bills: To
+which _Miles_ reply'd, That if he had any Money about him, 'twas none of
+his own, and that 'twas certainly conjur'd into his Pockets. No Matter
+how it came there (said t'other;) but you have above twenty Pounds about
+you of your own Money: Pray feel. _Miles_ then felt, and pull'd out as
+much Silver as he could grasp, and laid it down on the Table. Hang this
+white Pelf; (cry'd his Friend) pay it in Gold, like your self, Come,
+apply your Hand to another Pocket: He did so, and brought out as many
+Broad-Pieces as Hand could hold. Now (continu'd his Friend) give the
+Waiter eight of 'em, and let him take the Overplus for his Attendance.
+_Miles_ readily obey'd, and they were _Very Welcome, Gentlemen_.
+
+Now, honoured Captain, (said his Friend) and you, Gentlemen, his other
+worthy Officers, be pleas'd to receive your Soldier, as Sir _Miles
+Hardyman_, Bar., Son to the late Sir _Henry Hardyman_ of
+_Somersetshire_, my dear and honoured Brother-in-Law: Who is
+certainly--the most unhappy Wretch crawling on Earth! (interrupted
+_Miles_) O just Heaven! (persu'd he) How have I been rack'd in my Soul
+ever since the Impious Vow I made, that I never would see my dearest
+Father more! This is neither a Time nor Place to vent your Sorrows, my
+dearest Brother! (said his Friend, tenderly embracing him.) I have
+something now more material than your Expressions of Grief can be here,
+since your honoured Father has been dead these five Years almost:--Which
+is to let you know, that you are now Master of four thousand Pounds a
+Year; and if you will forgive me two Years Revenue, I will refund the
+rest, and put you into immediate and quiet Possession; which I promise
+before all this worthy and honourable Company. To which _Miles_
+return'd, That he did not deserve to inherit one Foot of his Father's
+Lands, tho' they were entail'd on him, since he had been so strangely
+undutiful; and that he rather thought his Friend ought to enjoy it all
+in Right of his Sister, who never offended his Father in the whole
+Course of her Life:--But, I beseech you, Sir, (continu'd he to his
+Friend) how long is it since I have been so happy in so good and
+generous a Brother-in-Law? Some Months before Sir _Henry_ our Father
+dy'd, who gave us his latest Blessing, except that which his last Breath
+bequeath'd and sigh'd after you. O undutiful and ungrateful Villain that
+I am, to so kind, and so indulgent, and so merciful a Father: (cry'd
+_Miles_) But Heaven, I fear, has farther Punishments in Store for so
+profligate a Wretch and so disobedient a Son.--But your Name, Sir, if
+you please? (persu'd he to his Brother) I am _Lewis Constance_, whom
+once you unhappily mistook for your Rival. Unhappily, indeed: (return'd
+_Miles_) I thought I had seen you before. Ay, Sir, (return'd
+_Constance_) but you could never think to have seen me again, when you
+wounded and left me for dead, within a Mile of my House. O! thou art
+brave, (cry'd his Brother, embracing him affectionately) 'tis too much
+Happiness, for such a Reprobate to find so true a Friend and so just a
+Brother. This, this does in some Measure compensate for the Loss of so
+dear a Father.--Take, take all, my Brother! (persu'd he, kissing
+_Lewis's_ Cheek) Take all thou hast receiv'd of what is call'd mine, and
+share my whole Estate with me: But pardon me, I beseech you my most
+honour'd Officers, and all you Gentlemen here present, (continu'd he to
+the whole Company, who sate silent and gazing at one another, on the
+Occasion of so unusual an Adventure) pardon the Effects of Grief and Joy
+in a distracted Creature! O, Sir _Miles_, (cry'd his Captain) we grieve
+for your Misfortune, and rejoice at your Happiness in so noble a Friend
+and so just a Brother. _Miles_ then went on, and gave the Company a full
+but short Account of the Occasion of all his Troubles, and of all his
+Accidents he met with both Abroad and at Home, to the first Day that
+_Constance_ saw him digging in the _Tower_-Ditch. About one that
+Morning, which preceded that Afternoon (persu'd he) whereon I saw my
+dear Brother here, then a Stranger to me, I dream'd I saw my Father at a
+Distance, and heard him calling to me to quit my honourable Employment
+in his Majesty's Service: This (my Thought) he repeated seven or nine
+Times, I know not which; but I was so disturb'd at it, that I began to
+wake, and with my Eyes but half open was preparing to rise; when I
+fancy'd I felt a cold Hand take me by the Hand, and force me on my hard
+Bolster again, with these Words, take thy Rest, _Miles_! This I confess
+did somewhat surprize me; but I concluded, 'twas the Effect of my
+Melancholy, which, indeed, has held me ever since I last left _England_:
+I therefore resolutely started up, and jump'd out of Bed, designing to
+leave you, and sit up with my Fellow-Soldiers on the Guard; but just
+then I heard the Watchman cry, _Past one a Clock and a Star-light
+Morning_; when, considering that I was to be at Work in the Ditch by
+four a Clock, I went to Bed again, and slumber'd, doz'd, and dream'd,
+'til Four; ever when I turn'd me, still hearing, as I foolishly
+imagin'd, my Father crying to me, _Miles_! Sleep, my _Miles_! Go not to
+that nasty Place, nor do such servile Offices! tho' thou dost, I'll have
+thee out this Day, nay, I will pull thee out: And then I foolishly
+imagin'd, that the same cold Hand pull'd me out of the Ditch; and being
+in less than a Minute's Time perfectly awake, I found my self on my Feet
+in the Middle of the Room; I soon put on my Cloaths then, and went to my
+Labour. Were you thus disturb'd when you were Abroad? (the Captain
+ask'd) O worse, Sir, (answer'd _Miles_) especially on a Tuesday Night,
+a little after One, being the Twelth of _November_, New Style, I was
+wak'd by a Voice, which (methought) cry'd, _Miles_, _Miles_, _Miles!_
+Get hence, go Home, go to _England_! I was startled at it, but regarded
+it only as proceeding from my going to Sleep with a full Stomach, and so
+endeavour'd to sleep again, which I did, till a second Time it rouz'd
+me, with _Miles_ twice repeated,--hazard not thy Life here in a foreign
+Service! Home! to _England_! to _England_! to _England_! This disturb'd
+me much more than at first; but, after I had lay'n awake near half an
+Hour, and heard nothing of it all that Time, I assur'd my self 'twas
+nothing but a Dream, and so once more address'd my self to Sleep, which
+I enjoy'd without Interruption for above two Hours; when I was the third
+Time alarm'd, and that with a louder Voice, which cry'd, as twice
+before, _Miles!_ _Miles!_ _Miles!_ _Miles!_ Go Home! Go to _England_!
+Hazard not thy Soul here! At which I started up, and with a faultering
+Speech, and Eyes half sear'd together, I cry'd, In the Name of Heaven,
+who calls? Thy Father, _Miles_: Go Home! Go Home! Go Home! (it said.)
+O then I knew, I mean, I thought I knew it was my Father's Voice; and
+turning to the Bed-Side, from whence the Sound proceeded, I saw, these
+Eyes then open, these very Eyes, at least, my Soul saw my Father, my own
+dear Father, lifting up his joined Hands, as if he begg'd me to return
+to _England_. I saw him beg it of me.--O Heaven! The Father begs it of
+the Son! O obstinate, rebellious, cruel, unnatural, barbarous, inhuman
+Son! Why did not I go Home then! Why did I not from that Moment begin my
+Journey to _England_? But I hope, e'er long, I shall begin a better.
+Here his o'ercharg'd Heart found some little Relief at his Eyes, and
+they confess'd his Mother: But he soon resum'd the Man, and then
+_Constance_ said, Did you ne'er dream of your Sister, Sir? Yes, often,
+Brother, (return'd _Miles_) but then most particularly, before e'er I
+heard the first Call of the Voice; when (my Thought) I saw her in Tears
+by my Bed Side, kneeling with a Gentleman, whom I thought I had once
+seen; but knew him not then, tho', now I recal my Dream, the Face was
+exactly yours. 'Twas I, indeed, Sir, (return'd _Lewis_) who bore her
+Company, with Tears, at your Father's Bed-Side; and at twelve a Clock at
+Night your Father dy'd. But come, Sir, (persu'd he) 'tis now near twelve
+a Clock, and there is Company waits for you at Home, at my House here in
+Town; I humbly beg the Captain's Leave, that I may rob 'em of so dutiful
+a Soldier for a Week or two. Sir, (return'd the Captain) Sir _Miles_
+knows how to command himself, and may command us when he pleases.
+Captain, Lieutenant, and Ensign, (reply'd Sir _Miles_) I am, and ever
+will continue, during Life, your most dutiful Soldier, and your most
+obedient and humble Servant. Thus they parted.
+
+As soon as _Constance_ was got within Doors, his Lady and Sir _Miles's_
+Sister, who both did expect him that Night, came running into the Hall
+to welcome him? his Sister embrac'd and kiss'd him twenty and twenty
+Times again, dropping Tears of Joy and Grief, whilst his Mistress stood
+a little Distance, weeping sincerely for Joy to see her Love return'd:
+But long he did not suffer her in that Posture; for, breaking from his
+Sister's tender Embraces, with a seasonable Compliment he ran to his
+Mistress, and kneeling, kiss'd her Hand, when she was going to kneel to
+him; which he perceiving, started up and took her in his Arms, and
+there, it may be presum'd, they kiss'd and talk'd prettily; 'till her
+Brother perswaded 'em to retire into the Parlour, where he propos'd to
+'em that they should marry on the very next morning; and accordingly
+they were, after _Lewis_ had deliver'd all Sir _Henry's_ Estate to Sir
+_Miles_, and given him Bills on his Banker for the Payment of ten
+thousand Pounds, being the Moiety of Sir _Miles's_ Revenue for five
+Years. Before they went to Church, Sir _Miles_, who then had on a rich
+bridal Suit, borrow'd his Brother's best Coach, and both he and _Lewis_
+went and fetch'd the Captain, Lieutenant, and Ensign, to be Witnesses of
+their Marriage. The Captain gave the Bride, and afterwards they feasted
+and laugh'd heartily, 'till Twelve at Night, when the Bride was put to
+Bed; and there was not a Officer of 'em all, who would not have been
+glad to have gone to Bed to her; but Sir _Miles_ better supply'd their
+Places.
+
+
+
+
+NOTES: The Unhappy Mistake.
+
+
+p. 477 _the Jack_. The small bowl placed as a mark for the players to
+aim at. cf. _Cymbeline_ II, i: 'Was there ever man had such luck! when I
+kissed the jack upon an up-cast to be hit away!'
+
+p. 477 _the Block_. cf. Florio (1598). '_Buttino_, a maister or mistres
+of boules or coites whereat the plaiers cast or playe; some call it the
+blocke.'
+
+p. 495 _vor Mainly be our Country Word, zure_. Wright, _English Dialect
+Dictionary_, gives apposite quotations for 'mainly' from Gloucester,
+Wilts and Devon. He also has two quotations, Somerset and West Somerset
+for 'main' used adverbially. But 'mainly' is also quite common in that
+county.
+
+p. 495 _the Gun_. A well-known house of call. 2 June, 1668, Pepys
+'stopped and drank at the Gun'.
+
+p. 496 _a Broad piece_. This very common name was 'applied after the
+introduction of the guinea in 1663 to the "Unite" or 20 shilling pieces
+(Jacobus and Carolus) of the preceeding reigns, which were much broader
+and thinner than the new milled coinage.'
+
+
+
+
+  _Printed by A. H. BULLEN, at the Shakespeare Head Press,
+  Stratford-upon-Avon._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Errors and Inconsistencies (noted by transcriber)
+
+Typographical errors were corrected only when unambiguous ("Symrna"),
+or when the expected spelling occurs many times in the book. A few
+variable forms such as "handsom : handsome" are unchanged.
+
+Unless otherwise noted, quotation marks are as printed.
+
+
+_The Adventure of the Black Lady_
+
+  and order'd the Coach to drive  [orderd]
+  [Notes]
+  [_See King of Bantam, below_]
+
+_The Court of the King of Bantam_
+
+  Appearances of Virtue, which he thought  [be thought]
+  So she has (reply'd the titular Monarch):  [_close ) missing_]
+  Come, Madam (continued he, kissing _Lucy_,)  [_close ) missing_]
+  has oblig'd me beyond Imitation.'  [_close quote missing_]
+  And, (_S_) _Sim. Slyboots_.  [_no . after "S"_]
+  [Notes:
+  _The header for the "King of Bantam" notes is misprinted, placed
+  between the two notes for p. 30 instead of between pgs. 9 and 17.
+  The story begins on p. 11._]
+
+_The Unfortunate Happy Lady_
+
+  he designs to gain your Ladyship's Assistance  [Ladship's]
+  After she had taken her Money, and other Things of Value  [Money,and]
+  the good old Gentleman returns Home  [Gentlemen]
+  since she was assur'd, that if he marry'd her  [asssur'd]
+  he was arrested, and thrown into a Goal  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  The defeated Lovers knew not how to resent it?  [_? in original_]
+  My Cousin _Eugenia_! (cry'd _Gracelove_!)  [_! in original_]
+
+_The Fair Jilt_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  no such person as her 'Prince Tarpuin of the race of the last Kings
+  of Rome'
+    [_obvious error uncorrected because it may be in the quoted
+    original_]
+  [Dedication]
+  at least with a feign'd Civility  [lest]
+  a sort of Coin, not currant in this Age  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  in all the finest Manners of Education  [_f in "of" obscure_]
+  'She complains, in her Heart  [_open quote missing_]
+  had not been sufficient of itself  [_f in "of" obscure_]
+  from whose Mouth I had it.'  [_close quote missing_]
+  Which so extremely incensed _Alcidiana_, that she  [the]
+  putting her self into the Hands of a wealthy Merchant  [wealty]
+  the other End of which was to be fastned to the Gibbet
+    [_spelling unchanged: elsewhere "fasten'd"_]
+  holy Matters relating to the Life to come  [to to come]
+  All his overjoy'd Friends  [_elsewhere "over-joy'd" with hyphen_]
+  [Note to p. 174]
+  Barbadoes  [Barbardoes]
+
+_Oroonoko; Or The Royal Slave_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  as Aphara tells her prose-epic  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  there is not to be seen an indecent Action  [it not]
+  still answer'd what they thought conduc'd best  [they they]
+  instead of giving me the comtemptible Whip  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  let him speedly dispatch me  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Notes]
+  [_The header for the "Oroonoko" notes is missing._]
+
+_Agnes De Castro_
+
+  [Introduction]
+  an aimable blue-stocking  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  [Text]
+  if she had not perceived a Paper lying under his Hand  [see]
+  the charming Qualities of your Person  [Qualites]
+  unless expresly commanded by the Princess  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  I fear you will never approve my Passion.'  [_close quote missing_]
+  Thus this Conversation ended.  [Coversation]
+  'You will do for _Constantia_  [_open quote missing_]
+  will render your Memory illustrious  [yonr]
+
+_The History Of The Nun_
+
+  _Isabella de Valerie_, that rose like a new Star  [the rose]
+  he found nothing of his Industry thrive  [hs found]
+  foreseeing there was no Provision likely to be made them
+    [was a / no _at line break_]
+
+_The Nun; Or, The Perjur'd Beauty_
+
+  with out whom she had been at a Loss  [_elsewhere "without"_]
+  when she fell passionately in Love with him  [passsionately]
+
+_The Lucky Mistake_
+
+  I find the Seeds of great and profound Matter  [finds]
+  and wondred how his Stars came so kind
+    [_spelling unchanged: elsewhere "wonder'd"_]
+  she assur'd him her Father had never yet  [asur'd]
+  [Note to p. 351]
+  (... 3 Vols., 1736, 12mo)  [3 Vols, 1736]
+
+_The Unfortunate Bride_
+
+  So aimable he was  [_spelling unchanged_]
+  for 'twas that very Fondness proved his Ruin  [twas]
+
+_The Dumb Virgin_
+
+  a handsom Gentleman in a rich _English_ Dress  [Gentlemen]
+  his Voyage from _Smyrna_ to _London_  [_Symrna_]
+
+_The Unhappy Mistake_
+
+  and virtuous Education, of an indifferent Fortune  [_. for ,_]
+  which was rewarded with another piece of Money  [which which]
+  came running into the Hall to welcome him?  [_? in original_]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of Aphra Behn, by Aphra Behn
+
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