THE Revengeful Mistress; BEING AN AMOROUS ADVENTURE OF AN English Gentleman IN SPAIN.  
In which are also contained three other NOVELS, Viz. The Wronged Innocence cleared, The Generous Impostor, and The Unfortunate Colonel.  
— Quoties facit Ira nocentem  
Hunc Sexum, rabie jecur incendente feruntur  
Praecipites.  Juvenal, Sat. 6. 
Writ by PH. AYRES, Esq  
LONDON, Printed for R. Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1696.   

THE PREFACE.  
ANobleman who had an Affection for a young Scholar of excellent Parts, presented him with a large Gold Cup, wrought with curius Workmanship, and and advised him to use it rightly, with Moderation and Sobriety. To whom the Scholar returned this Answer. My Lord, In the Gift you have expressed your Liberality; and in the Counsel, your Friendship to me: By the former, you have enriched my House; but by the latter, my Heart. So'twas my Aim, that this TALE should also be accompanied with such good Advice, as might make it of Profit, as well as Pleasure, to Young Gentlemen designed to Travel, for whose Benefit it was chief Writ: And by showing them where the skulking Rocks lie hid on which other Vessels have been Shipwrecked, I would teach them to steer a more secure Course, and preserve themselves from the like Misfortune.  
'Tis then fit they should know, that the Courtesans of Italy are notorious for their Subtleties, by which they often allure Men of eminent Quality and Parts, as well as Others, into their Snares, and so ruin many Noble Families. They take 'em up into the Fool's Paradise, caress and entertain 'em with Banquets, Music, Dancing, and all Delights they can invent to gratify the Senses; but having obtained their Ends; those whom before they flattered, they after pack off in Scorn and Derision, with heavy Hearts, but with light light Purses: Which Truth, some of our Young Gallants, sent to make Observations on Foreign Countries and People, have been able to testify by a dear bought Experience.  
But scarce any Nation under the Sun, is so abounding in this sort of Ill Women as Spain. There, in Cities and great Towns, when it gins to grow dark, they appear in Shoals, distinguished by their White Veils or Mantles, and have their Places of general Rendezvous: Those of Toledo in the Zocodover, and those of Madrid in the Puerta del Sol; where discovering their Faces, they show themselves as in a Market, and ply for the Ruin and Destruction of Mankind.  
And as these Lindas Margaritas are known to be the most witty, quick, and entertaining of the World in Conversation; so are they above all others the most impudent, and most nicely skilled, in all points of their accursed Mystery; and consequently very dextrous in managing their Clients to all Advantages; for they seldom part with any one out of their Power, so long as they find he has Money, Goods, or Credit left. And then tho' several of these Enamorados have been discarded by their Misses, in a naked and starving Condition, with all their sparks of Love extinct; yet have they soon felt their Bodies so inflamed, by an unnatural Fire kindled there, that they have scarce been able to bring them to a good Temper again, so long as they lived.  
'Twas therefore my Drift in the Principal Novel, to expose this sort of Vice, and by Painting it in its proper Colours, to show its deformity; which I have endeavoured in the Character of a Young Man, who, whilst indulging himself in Lewdness with his Mistress, fancied he was raised up to the highest Region of Felicity, his Heart could wish to arrive at; which made him deas to all good Admonition, and insensible of Danger, till he had run blindly on to the very Brink of Perdition.  
The Morality to be gathered from hence, is, That such Young Gentlemen, as in their Travels abroad, or here at home, are inclined to the like Vicious Courses, be persuaded to quit them in time, before they plunge themselves into inevitable Ruin: And it may show the Parents or Friends of such, the danger of committing them to the wide World, without some vigilant Eye, and strict hade over them, to keep 'em in bounds of safety. For when once they harken to the Charms of those Circe's, and lift themselves to fight under Cupid's Banners, they throw off all thoughts of Danger, as they do of Virtue: Books are then laid aside; all healthful Exercises dis-used, and ingenious Recreations slighted. Their time is chief taken up in a fond Contemplation of the admired Fair One, the Object of their Love, or more properly of their Lust. Their Manners also and Ways of Living are quite changed, and all their Actions run counter to those of other Men in their Senses. For tho' the bright Morn display itself, inviting the Husbandman into the Fields to his Labour; the Scholar to his Studies, the Traveller to his journey; and and all Industrious Persons to their several honest Employments; yet is this glorious Light of small Benefit to the Intriguing Gallant till about Noon, when he opens his Eyes, rises, and spends the remainder of the Day, in Dressing, Eating, and Contriving new Methods of Entertainment for his Mistress; and when others are going in due season, to their Natural Rest, he than sets out to prosecute his unlawful Amours.  
This is the common Practice of many in those hot Countries, who by such Extravagancies, bring themselves to Misery, and to untimely Ends. And tho' our Adventurer's Intrigue proved not so fatal, as some have done; and was not acted with a common Strumpet; yet was it attended with as many Dangers as most of that kind, and his Life by himself as boldly exposed; whilst he might well have called to mind, the Misfortune which he knew had befallen a Young Gentleman, the Son of a Rich Merchant in Spain; who being engaged in an Amrous Design with a Lady, and finding himself like to be surprised in her Chamber, was endeavouring to escape over the Tops of Houses; but from thence was shot down dead by the wronged Husband.  
And lest what I have hinted, should fall short, I shall add what Aeneas Silvius says emphatically on this Subject. Quid Meretrix, nisi Juventutis expilatrix, virorum rapina, patrimonii devoratrix, Honoris pernicies, pabulum Diaboli, Janua mortis, inferni Supplementum, discrimen vitae, mors blanda, mel felleum, dulce venenum, pernicies delicata, malum spontaneum?  
The other Stories intermixed herewith, were only intended to divert the Reader with Variety.   

THE Revengeful Mistress, OR AN Amorous Adventure.  
THough Madrid have not the Title of a City, yet in respect of its large Extent, its great Riches, and the Kings of Spain for many years honouring it with their Residence, it has by much got the preeminence of the Ancient City of Toledo, and is always styled Lafoy Villa Real de Madrid, the Royal Town of Madrid. Nor has it this Title without just reason, since it is adorned with three of his Catholic Majesty's Royal Palaces. The first is that which for Eminence is called The Palace, much admired for its Beauty, standing within the Town, on the banks of the River Mansanarez, and was built by the Emperor Charles the Fifth; having on the top of its Curious Stone Front an old Brick Tower, appearing as a blemish, but reserved on purpose there by that Monarch, for a Memorial of his having kept his Rival in Glory, the French King Francis the First, a Prisoner in it. The second Palace is the Buen Retiro, on the North side of the Town, but seated on ground something higher than it, within a most delightful Enclosure, resembling St. James'- Park; this glories in its fine Gardens, shady Groves, its long Walks of Trees, and a Canal filled from a vast square Pond, called by them a Sea, but is itself supplied with water brought thither by an Aquaeduct, for about the space of two Leagues. The third Palace is called La Casa del Campo, or the Country House, on the other side of the River; chief intended for a place of pleasure, adorned, as all the other Royal Palaces are, with Excellent Paintings; and has in the middle of its Chief Garden an admirable Statue of Brass, of King Philip the Fourth, Father of the present King Charles the Second, upon a Pedestal on Horseback, made by a great Italian Master, being a Present to his said Catholic Majesty, by the then Great Duke of Tuscany, and is esteemed to excel that which stands in the Principal Court of the Buen Retiro. 'Tis also of no small advantage to this Town of Madrid, to have the Neighbourhood of three others of his Catholic Majesty's Palaces not very remote. The first is El Pardo, at about two League's distance, in a large Forest, to which the King often goes for his Recreation, to divert himself, and his Court, with Hunting the Wild-Boar, and other Game, which are commonly first taken in Toils, and then in a great Court before the Palace are hunted to death.  
The Second is called Aranjuez, or to our pronunciation Arangwhess, about five or six Leagues from Madrid, famed for its delightful Situation, as it were in a Peninsula; being on that Languet of Land where the two great Rivers Tagus and Harama have their Confluence, and the latter is lost in the former. This Royal Seat is not so much remarkable for the House itself, as for its pleasant Gardens, Statues, Fountains, and its spacious Walks; one of which is a complete League in length, shaded all the way with a double row of tall English Oaks on each side of it, planted there by King Philip the Second, the Husband of our Queen Mary the First, near an hundred and fifty years ago. And from those two Rivers, which wash the two outsides of this spacious Garden, are brought thither, through Pipes, such vast quantities of water, as supply the Fountains, and make such a curious variety of Water-works, as is very amazing to the Beholders. And there at Midday in Summer time, when the Sun shines, they can make an artificial Rainbow, by playing several Pipes of Water from the tops of some of the Oaks, across the said broad Walk.  
The other Palace is seven Leagues from Madrid, which is about twenty English Miles, and is that Celebrated House, the Escurial, built by King Philip the Second, at the foot of the great Mountain which they call La Sierra de Guadarama, and by him it was Dedicated to S●. Laurence the Martyr, who had been broiled to death on a Gridiron. The Spaniards term this Magnificent Pile the Eighth Wonder of the World: And well they may; for 'tis of so prodigious a bulk, that it seems capacious enough to lodge the Inhabitants of a small City; and yet 'tis so very regular and uniform in all its parts, that there is not a Tower, Pinnacle, nor Window on one side, which has not the same to answer it on the other.  
There is in the Spanish Tongue a whole Book in Folio, writ of its description; but I shall content myself to say 'tis a most Beautiful Fabric, all of a grey sort of Marble, drawn down from the Quarries of that Mountain, and for the most part of the Doric order built, expressing a Noble Solidity, as well as an exact Symmetry. In the Front, which is eight hundred paces broad, are three stately Doors or Gates, of which that in the Centre is the principal, and opens into the first Court, where, before you, you have a view of the Grand Portico of the Church, over which in Niches stand the Statues of the five good Kings of judah, and Israel, made much bigger than the Life, of Brass, and guilt in the Fire. Into this Portico you advance by large steps, and are led into the Church itself, which for bigness may compare with many Cathedrals, but will surpass them in beauty; and underneath the great Hemisphereor Dome, you may descend into the famous Oratory or Chapel, called the Pantheon, which, tho' under ground, is an imitation of that admired piece of Building in Rome, so called by the old Romans, but now, Santa Maria della Rotunda. Here round the sides are placed, as it were in Niches, one above another, many Brazen Urns; in some of which are preserved the Bodies of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, and of the several Kings and Queens of Spain since that time.  
To make short, the whole Building was designed to resemble a square Gridiron, to which the Church must serve for a handle; and on each side of the Grand Portico, and of the first Court, are seven other Courts, making fifteen in all, wherein are contained besides the King's Palace, which takes not up above one fourth part of the whole, a Royal Convent of Monks, of the Order of St. Hierom, and two Large Colleges, the one of Regular, and the other of Secular Students: Also a vast Apartment over the Principal Gate, made for a Noble Library of Books, reckoned to be little inferior to that of the Vatican in Rome, or the Bodleian Library in Oxford. And here the Monks, after you think you have seen the whole, lead you into one Room filled only with Excellent Greek Manuscripts, of which they are more proud to talk, than skilful to use; and into another full of Books written in the Oriental Tongues, which had been a Collection made by that Learned Prince Muley Sidan Emperor of Morocco, and accidentally seized at Sea by Don juan of Austria, in his return from the Battle of Lepanto, by whom they were presented to King Philip the Second, to adorn this his New Library.  
But I should swell this little Piece into a large Volume, should I proceed to give but a slight Description of the outward Beauties, and most Remarkable things of this place, particularly of the Church, the several Cloisters, Apartments, Halls, Galleries, Chapels, Sacristies, and other Stately Rooms, as well private as public; or of the admirable Furniture belonging to them; as the Exquisite Paintings of the greatest Masters in that Art, the World for these two or three last Centuries has produced: Or speak of the immense Riches in Plate and Jewels there shown in several places; or the Robes of the Churchmen, Relics of Saints, Pieces of Antiquity, and other Curiosities. I shall therefore only add this seeming incredible thing of this vast Fabric, that the Spaniards affirm it to be no less than thirty three Leagues, which is near a hundred Miles (as say they, it has been computed) for a Man to go, that would walk about into every one of the Rooms of it. But I dare not undertake to vouch for this, tho' I spent three days in viewing what was most worthy of Note there.  
But now to return to Madrid, which the Romans called Mantua Carpentana, or Carpentanorum; I say, there is not any thing of Beauty of Grandeur, for which a Town is Famous, but this Place may challenge for it a competition with the proudest City in all Spain, a good River excepted, and a large Cathedral; but as for other Churches, Convents, and Hospitals here, they excel in Curiosity and Riches; so do the spacious Streets and Plaças, or Piazzas, especially the Placa Mayor, wherein the Noble Sport of the Bulls, called the Fiesta, or the juego de Toros is exhibited upon some Eminent Occasions; but annually on the three Festiaval Days of St. Ann, St. john the Baptist, and St. Isidro, or Isidore, to whom they ascribe the Honour of Patron of the Town.  
Hither the Court having drawn a great confluence of the Nobility and Gentry, as well as Merchants of divers Nations; there are, of consequence, many stately Palaces and Houses of Grandees, and other Noblemen, who live here in great Splendour; as do also many Eminent Persons of inferior Rank and Quality. The Chiefest of the Houses are, first, that of the Marquis de Leche, built by his Father Don Luis de Haro, Grand Minister of State, and Privado or Favourite of King Philip the Fourth; then the Palace of the Dukes of Lerma, those of the Dukes of Infantado, of Montalto, with innumerable others. There were likewise two very stately Bridges over the small River; but the newest and finest of them, almost as soon as built, was carried away, by force of a sudden and violent Flood. And tho' the Town stand dry, on an Eminence much above the River, yet is it so well supplied by Water-works, and Fountains, that there is seldom any scarcity of Water in it.  
The several Foreign Ministers also, who are sent from the Courts of other Princes and States, to make their Residence here, do not a little add to the Ornament and Grandeur of the Place. Amongst whom our King's Ambassadors did lay their Claim to the third Seat in the Chapel Royal, and it was ever, without dispute, formerly allowed them, after the Nuncio of the Pope, and of the Emperor's Ambassador, who only had Precedence of them: Tho' of late Years the French have contested for it and since that, to avoid the Mischiefs which happened by the Retinues of the two Ambassadors fight always whenever they met, it has been accommodated. From this orderly placing in the King's Chapel, of the several Ambassadors coming from Crowned Heads, amongst whom are also reckoned those from the Republic of Venice, and States of Holland, they are called there, Emvaxadores de la Capilla, Ambassadors of the Chapel.  
'Twas during the Negotiation of a Person of great Honour and Abilities, bearing this Character from our King, and residing in this Court, that there happened a certain Affair of consequence, which was to be transacted in the City of Toledo; for dispatch whereof, his Excellency appointed two of his Retinue to go and attend there, till it should be finished: The one of these was a brisk young Gentleman, of about Two or Three and Twenty Years of Age, who had made himself a perfect Master of the Spanish Tongue; this was to be the chief Speaker: And the other a Graver Person of above Thirty, but of much less skill in the Language, and he was for the sober Conduct of this Matter. They solicited daily, with all the diligence they could, but the Spaniards being slow, and dilatory in all manner of Business, that which was supposed, would have been brought to an end in a fortnight or three week's time, proved the work of a whole Summer. These two English Gentlemen, whom I shall call, for particular Reasons, by Spanish Names, the Elder Don Enrique, and the other Don Feliz, settled themselves in a Casa de Posadas, or House of Lodgings adjoining to a great House, which stood at the entry into the Plaçuela de la vega; the back part whereof overlooking the City wall, often afforded them a most refreshing Air, in that sultry place, and always a very delightful Prospect to the Eye for some Miles, over the Fields and Meadows, running along the River side. But before I proceed further, it may not be unpleasant, nor unprofitable to the Reader, if I also observe something of the Situation and Building of this Town.  
The City of Toledo, called in Latin Toletum, stands on a high large Hill, of which near three parts are surrounded with the River Tagus, in the form, as I may properly enough say, of a Horse-shoe. It was much beautified with fine Building, and fortified with a strong wall; but not totally built, as some erroneously conjecture, by one of the Kings of the Goths in Spain, flourishing about the Year of Christ, 680. after his return from appeasing a Rebellion of some of his Subjects; his Name was Wamba, as this Inscription over one of the Gates does express.  
Erexit, fautore Deo, Rex inclitus Vrbem  
Wamba, suae celebrem portendens Gentis honorem.  
And, according to the vulgar Opinion, the same Gothish King caused the following Distich, to be Inscribed over another Gate of the City.  
Vos Domini Sancti quorum heic proesentia fulget,  
Hanc Vrbem, & Plebem, solito servate favore.  
Addressed, as I conceive, to the Popish Saints or Martyrs, who formerly lived or suffered Death for the Christian Religion there, and whose Shrines were then remaining.  
After the Conquest of Spain by the Arabian Moors, who divided it into many petty Kingdoms, this City of Toledo, wherein the Gothish Kings were wont to have their Residence, was made the Metropolis of a Kingdom of the same Name, and Seat of one of those Kings of the Moors. It is now reckoned an opulent City, standing in the very Heart or Centre of the Kingdom, full of Merchants, of Traders, and of Manufactories; from whence divers sorts of Merchandise and Commodities are sent to all parts of Spain, which bring back a Return of Money, and of all things necessary, in a great plenty. It is divided into three and twenty Regions, or Wards, which have their particular Magistrates, and over them all is the Corregidor. 'Tis adorned with many Stately Palaces, but that called the Alcazer, or Palace-Royal, built by the Moors, is of no small Ornament to the Town; the Fine Churches, the Rich Convents, the Town-House, and other Public Buildings, are very much boasted of; so are the Plaças, and Plaçuelas, which in all are seventeen; and the two spacious Hospitals deserve a particular Remark.  
But the greatest Glory of this City is, that it is an Archepiscopal See, and honoured with a Magnificent Cathedral; which, in my Opinion excels in Beauty, most of the Churches of Spain, except that of Burgos, the Chief City of Old Castille▪ Built, as they tell us, by Englishmen; of which, for its admirable Curiosity of Workmanship, they use to say, La yglesia de Burgos es la joya, y aquella de Toledo, no es mas que la Cascara. The Church of Burgos is the Pearl, and that of Toledo, but the Shell or Casket to hold it. But this may compare for largeness of Structure, with any Cathedral in that whole Kingdom, except one in Cordova, which the Moors widened on the sides, making it from its form of a Cross, to be an exact square Mosque for their own Devotions.  
This is very remarkable for its great number of fine Windows, beautified with curious Figures painted in the Glass, with variety of Colours; besides which are counted 750 other clear Lights or Windows without Painting. The Chapels about it are many, and enriched with Altars of curious Architecture, which are Adorned with excellent Crucifixes and other Images, and Pictures of Saints. And 'tis very admirable to observe every day, but especially on Holy days, the Priest's Officiating in this Church, in their princely Vestments, sometimes shining in Robes of Gold, sometimes in Silver, in variety of Silks, in Tissue, in Purple, and in delicate Embroideries, and sparkling with Jewels of inestimable value: So are the Images of the Saints dressed up, particularly that of the Virgin Mary, for whom they have one Petticoat powdered with Flowers of Pearls, intermixed with large Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds, Saphires, and divers sorts of Precious Gems: They have likewise other rich Garments and Dresses for her, with two Crowns of Gold, a greater and a less, both set with Stones of a considerable price, which they put on her upon great Festivals, and when they carry her abroad in Procession.  
It would be a large Work to give a full description of this Church, of its several Chapels, of the Vestry, and of the Chapterhouse, an eligant piece of Building, the Roof or Ceiling of which is finely gilded with Gold, and about it are represented the Portraits of all the Arch-Bishops that have ever been of this See. The Relics also that the Priests show, are abundance; of which they'll tell you as many Wonders in one Hour, as you will be puzzled to believe in Seven Years. The two Pulpits likewise in this Church, being curious Work, are both of them well worthy our Observation. And to enter into this huge Fabric, are six great Doors or Gates; Three on the North side; Two on the South; And one in the West end, where is the Portico and principal Entry; all of which Doors, are large, fair, and adorned with vast Plates of Brass, whereon are finely Carved, many Figures of Saints and Martyrs, with other Ingenious pieces of History.  
The Archbishop, who is always a Cardinal, is Metropolitan of all Spain, and for the most part is also Inquisitor General, or Precedent of the Inquisition; He is in Rank the next Person to the King; not only in Dignity and Authority, but also in Subjects, Revenues, and Power; and is esteemed to be the Richest Prelate, next to the Pope, in all the Christian World: For there are under his Jurisdiction and Government, besides divers little Villages, no sewer than seventeen considerable Towns, from which the Rents of this Church are raised, and do amount to above Two Hundred Thousand Ducats per annum.  
But 'tis the River Tagus with its golden Sands, that brings in the Wealth and necessary Conveniencies to this City; that furnishes the Inhabitants with variety of excellent Fish; makes their pleasant Gardens flourish, and supplies their Houses too for all Occasions with Water, raised up by an incomparable Machine to the top of the Hill; the Invention, as I was told there, of a Moor; though others will have it of an Italian.  
It is this River, I say, that conveys much of their Manufactures into other parts of the Country; that makes their Territory fertile in rich Wines, and all sorts of delicate Fruits, excellent Corn, and Pasturage. I have Theme enough to lengthen out the description of this Town much further, but shall only add, that in it, is an University for the Study of the Civil and Cannon Laws, by which all the King of Spain's Subjects are Governed: And that the City is Famous, for having had Eighteen National Councils held in it, in the time of the Goths Inhabiting there, in order to the Extirpating the Arrian Heresy, with which those Goths were long infected.  
But to return to our two Travellers, whom I have too long left at their Lodgings: They, at their first coming to this place, finding no manner of Acquaintance, for Coffeehouses at that time were scarce known in Spain: and the Grave Temper of these People, which will not easily admit of any familiar Conversation with Foreigners, would have made them pass very unpleasantly there their vacant time, that lay, as we say, but heavy on their hands, by the many Obstacles and tedious Delays they met with in their Business, had they not both been Studious and Lovers of Books, especially Don Feliz, who was something of a Scholar, having a Genius also to Music, wherein he was on some Instruments no mean Performer, particularly on the Viol, and on the Flageolet, an Instrument rarely then heard in that Country; nor was his Voice very unpleasant in Singing.  
With Reading therefore, or with Music, did they for the most part entertain themselves, and often with Fencing, when either they had no Business abroad, or by reason of the excessive heat of that Clime, they were constrained to keep within doors. But their usual Recreation in the Evenings, was to take the fresh Air in the Fields, and amongst the Vineyards, or to see the curious Gardens; the pleasant Walks shaded with Trees, bearing a variety of the choicest Fruits, and decked with most delightful Greene's; and to view the Norias or admirable Water-works, with which the Spaniards industriously water their Gardens, supply their Fountains, and keep their Grottoes cool. They often went to admire the fine Houses of Noblemen, and other Persons of Quality, as well without as within the Walls; or to view the most remarkable Churches and Convents; where, by reason of the many Eyes to observe the Actions of Strangers, an English Gentleman, who is there always looked on as a Heretic, had need behave himself with great Prudence and Circumspection, lest by some rash Word or indecent Gesture amongst their Priests, he run him into some ill Predicament, from whence he will not find it an easy matter to extricate himself. In all which places (the Churches not excepted) it is none of the least Divertisements for Young Men to admire the delicate Shape, Mien, and Air of the Spanish Ladies; and to Court them; but being veiled, we rarely get a sight of their Faces.  
It was in Contemplating of some of these attracting Objects, that our youngest Traveller was taken up, as he was walking by himself one Evening in the Streets, when he was accosted by an ancient, but brisk Man, whose Reverend Aspect, with long Beard and big Moustaches, would have given him a greater respect than he merited, by the Errand he was sent on. For after a formal Salute, he asked the young Gentleman, if his Name were not Don Feliz? Of which when satisfied. Then, Señor, said he, in a low voice, I am sent to discourse a matter of secrecy with you, from a Lady of Quality. The young Spark, though not altogether a Novice at these kind of Intrigues in this Country, being in some surprise at first, and not well understanding his meaning, Sir, answered he, I presume you be mistaken in the Person you intent, for I am a Stranger, and not yet so happy to be known to any Lady in this place. I fear I am mistaken indeed, replied the Spaniard, smiling, since you are so backward to apprehend a Message sent you from a fair Lady, who by me Invites you to her Lodging.  
Our Gallant, to retrieve his Reputation after such a reproof; Sir, said he, I confess my dulness, and shall readily wait on the Lady who has done me this Honour, if you please to lead the way, and as we walk to inform me of her Name, Quality, and Lodging. Why, now, answered the Spaniard, almost laughing outright, you are as much too quick for me on the other hand; let it suffice you to know, that she is such a one as makes no small figure in this Town: And as for her Name and Lodging, you may perchance be satisfied of them e'er long. In the mean time, I can only acquaint you, that she lives towards the furthest part of this City from hence; whither if you have the Courage to suffer yourself to be carried in a close Chair to Night, and will meet me at the place I shall direct, I'll not fail to wait on you to her, and I am confident you will not afterwards repent you of the Visit.  
After some small deliberation, whether or no he should engage himself in so hazardous an Enterprise, our Gallant resolutely told him, that he would certainly meet, when and where the Spaniard should think fit. They presently then agreed on the hour to be ten that same night, at the upper end of a Street, called La Calle de las carets, just by the great Conduit or Marble Fountain there; which was at least half a Mile from the place, where at that time they were discoursing. After this assignation made, and many kind Expressions which passed betwixt them, they parted; but with the greatest Cautions imaginable of keeping this thing secret on both sides.  
When our English Don had further considered of this Enterprise, and of the dangers he would be exposed to, in suffering himself to be thus carried he knew not whither, and by Persons to whom he was altogether a stranger, he began to blame his own Rashness, in so easily consenting to such an unreasonable thing, and was just staggering in his Resolution; but remembering that he was obliged in Honour to make good his word; and hugging himself with the hopes of enjoying the Conversation of so fair a Lady, as he fancied her already to be; he briskly went to the appointed place, where he found the Old Gentleman staying for him, with a Chair, and two Turkish Slaves, or other Chairmen disguised like such, attending on him. 'Twas now no time to expostulate with himself, or them; the Chair was held open for him; he went in, and was carried very far, but knew not which way; till at last he was set down within a Portal, and was quickly led, but with great silence, to a small backstair-case; where mounting two stories, he was signed by his Guide, the Old Gentleman, to enter, and was there left. He then pushing open the door, went into a spacious Room, hung with Rich Tapestry-hanging, having a Stately Crimson Damask Bed in it, and Furnished with fine Napolitan Cabinets, two Noble Looking-Glasses; In-laid Tables of Marble, of that manner which the Italians call impezzati; with a pair of large Silver Candlesticks of Indian work, that had two great Wax Lights burning in them; also Chairs, and all other Furniture suitable in it.  
While he was taken up in viewing the State and Grandeur of this Bedchamber, he heard a Door opening behind him, and turning about, saw coming towards him a handsome Lady, seeming to be about the Age of three or four and twenty, of a very graceful Presence and Mien, and if not to be extolled for an extraordinary Beauty (that Country rarely affording such) yet might she justly claim there to be admitted into the first Rank of Lovely Women. She had a Complexion clear enough, a lively quick Eye, and little Mouth, with an admirable set of white Teeth; her Face was Oval, her Hair of a shining Black, which hanging backwards, in fine Puffs and Curls, was braided together with a cross Braid just below her Neck, upon her bare Shoulders, after their Mode, and was curiously trimmed with Knots of coloured Ribon. She had an Excellent white Skin, and delicate hand; her stature was middle-sized; she had a well-proportioned Body, but rather inclining to be sat, and all her habit, as well as graceful deportment, shown her to be a Person of no mean Quality.  
At her first appearing in the Room, our young Spark was somewhat surprised, but his astonishment was very much increased, seeing the Lady make a pause, and stop a while to view him; for as yet he knew not whether this were the Person that had sent for him, or some other, who by chance was come in thither; but he was presently delivered from his uneasy apprehensions, when he perceived her to approach nearer, and with a smiling look bid him welcome, and thanked him for the favour of that Visit. Then, before the suffered him to return an Answer, she took him by the hand, which she pressed in hers, and made him sit down in a Chair by her. Don Feliz having had time to recover his amazed Spirits, and no longer doubting but that this was the Lady who had given him the Invitation; made her, with great respect, a Compliment for the Honour she had done him, in thinking him, who was a Stranger, and unknown to her, worthy of receiving her Commands. The Lady, whom we shall call Doña Faustina, fixing, in a most Amorous manner, her Eyes steadfastly on his Face, told him, she could not believe less of him, than that he was a Gentleman, and a Man of Honour; in confidence of which, she having several times admired him, as she observed him in the Town, had taken the boldness to give him that trouble, that she might be satisfied, whether or no his Parts and Qualifications were correspondent to his Person, and to the Idea which she had form of him within herself. He assured her, that he would be very industrious, to make good the best Character she could conceive of him; and that he was proud to have any thing in him worthy the Notice of so fine a Lady.  
As they were thus entering upon their Compliments to one another, they were interrupted by two Reverend Matrons, there called Dueñas, who are commonly Widows, or wearing the Habit of such, by whom the Spanish Ladies are constantly attended; some having two, others four, or six of them, according to their Quality. These are intended by the Husbands for watchful Inspectors into the Actions of their Wives, but commonly prove to be their Lady's trustiest Confidents in all their private Amours. The first of these two brought into the Room a large gilt Salver, handsomely filled and heaped up with thin Biscuits, Marchpanes, and variety of dried Sweetmeats. The second had such another Salver, furnished with Cups of rich Chocolatte, as well hot, as of that cooled with Snow, also with Glasses of Hyppocras, and of the choicest Wines; which having set down, they withdrew, leaving our Gallant and his Mistress to Entertain themselves with their Junket. Though she often pressed him to refresh himself, as their Phrase is, yet she had not the patience to forbear interrupting him, and ask a Thousand Questions of England, and of London, from whence he had informed her, he came; She desired to know the difference which he thought was betwixt his Country and that of Spain; also in what Station he was with the Ambassador; his Business in Toledo, and time of his stay there. He satisfied as many of her Demands as he could; but when he had acquainted her with the uncertainty of her last Particular, she seemto be troubled at it.  
After some further Talk, she told him she had heard say, that the English were the Handsomest and most Beautiful Women of the World: Which Report, she protested she was apt to credit, if the Women there had an equal proportion of delicate Features with some Men of that Nation, whom she had seen. I confess, Madam, said he, that as they have the advantage of a more Temperate Climate to live in, so are their Complexions generally clearer, than those who partake of a greater share of the Sun's Influence; but it follows not, Madam, that these hotter Countries must be wholly exempt from pure Complexion, which indeed is at the most but one Ingredient to the Composing of Beauty; for it must also have a sweet Symmetry of proper Features, a sparkling Eye, and a lively Air added to it. But there can be no plainer demonstration of this Truth, than in your Ladyship's Face; which, without Flattery, may compare with the most Celebrated Beauties of the English Court. For all the World must allow, there is a sprightly Briskness and Charming Air peculiar to the Spanish Ladies, which is rarely to be found in those of other Nations, and does not a little recompense any other Defect which can be objected to them. We are all of us, Señor Don Feliz, highly obliged to you, replied the Lady, for this Compliment. But I'm afraid, proceeded she, rising from her Chair, and gently pulling him by the Hand towards the Bedside, since you have been accustomed to the Caresses of those Admirable Beauties of your own Country, a Spanish Lady must be able to make but a very small Impression in your Heart.  
As he was big with a fine Speech to have answered her, she interrupted him, to make him sit down by her on the Bed, where changing the Subject, the Conversation was continued, with all the kind Endearments which on both sides they were able to express; whilst the unkind Night, posting on after its accustomed rate, having no regard to the uncertain Joys, nor consideration of the few such happy Opportunities that Lovers meet with, they were surprised to hear the Clock strike Four, when they had thought it had scarce been past Midnight. She than told him, she was sorry she must put him in mind of returning home; but before his departure, it would be very necessary to take these Cautions along with him.  
That in case he valued the Correspondence thus begun betwixt them, and found not so ill an Entertainment with her, as to discourage his future coming thither; He must be sure never to discover this Intrigue, but keep it secret, with all the Care and Fidelity imaginable; and on no Pretence whatever, disclose the least Circumstance, no, nor hint of it, to any Person in the world; considering, that both her Honour and her Life too depended thereon. He owned, that he had reason enough to be careful of it, since no Adventure that had happened to him in all his Life-time before, was ever so grateful as this; and prayed her to rest assured, that he was sufficiently sensible of the high Importance ot keeping this Matter secret, which had not only hers, but his own Life and Happiness also wrapped up in it; and this last Consideration alone was sufficient to seal up his Lips, but much more any Concern of hers; the least of which, he should hereafter reckon a thousand times dearer to him than his own Life. And he further added, she might be confident, that no Torture should ever have power to extort any part of this Amour from him; for as he had more Honour than to boast of it; he had not so little Sense to blab it out at una wares; nor so much Vanity to make a Jest of it.  
She likewise strictly charged him, not to be inquisitive who she was? Or where she dwelled? And that if he should by chance ever see her alone, or with Company, in any Window, Balcone, Coach, or Chair, he should immediately turn away his Eyes, and make haste from thence, without any ask, or prying after her; which would but give occasion of Suspicion and Jealousy, to the endangering of both their Lives.  
When he had solemnly protested to her, to be punctual in the observance of every Article hereof, she took occasion to tell him, that he being a Traveller, might not perchance have the convenience of Returns of Money, such as his Affairs required; and entreated him to accept of a small Recruit for his Pocket Expenses; thrusting into his Hand, a Paper with Ten Doblones, or Spanish Pistols of Gold, wrapped up in it; which he, making an Apology, would at first have refused, but, Quis nisi mentis inops, etc. being pressed to keep it, he put it up. Then they took leave of each other, yet not without many Sighs, Embraces, and tender Expressions of mutual Love, and of a prudent care and wariness to preserve it; with an Appointment agreed on for him to return two or three days after, according to the Notice he should receive from the Old Man, who was quickly sent in by the Lady, to conduct our Traveller down stairs, and into the Chair; in which he was conveyed back to the same Station where he had been taken up, and was there left to walk Home by himself.  
This lucky Adventure made our happy Lover not a little proud when he considered, how at his first settling in that City, where he was altogether unknown, he had so unexpectedly fallen into the Acquaintance of a Lady, qualified with all those admirable advantages of Beauty, Wit, and Fortune, which he reckoned he had met with in her; and his mind was so much taken up with it, that there was scarce room for any other Thought: And now he esteemed his felicity above his utmost wishes, were it not for one bitter Ingredient thrown into all this sweet; which was to think how he was forced with all the Art and Subtilty he was Master of, to dissemble the thing from his Brother, for so his Comrade and he were wont to call one another.  
The interval of time betwixt his first and second Visit, which was the third Night after, seemed an Age to our impatient Lover; during which, he was so transported with thoughts of the pleasure and satisfaction he expected, that he could take but little rest at home or abroad; and every Person he saw coming into the Piazza, where he was appointed to walk alone that Evening, he fancied to be his old Friend: But at last, as it grew dark, he, to his unspeakable comfort, espied the Reverend Conductor appear, and made haste to meet him. Never was Man more transported with joy than Don Feliz was, to receive this new Summons from his Mistress; and Señor Fadrique (for so was the Ancient Gentleman called) when he had delivered the Message, and taken our Adventurer's Answer, that he would joyfully obey the Directions, promised not to fail waiting on him with the Chair at ten a Clock that Night, at the same station as the first time. Both Parties were very punctual in meeting at the hour, and Don Feliz was carried as before, to the Lady's Chamber.  
'Tis impossible to relate the great transport and happiness of our two Lovers at this second interview. One while they passed their time in making high Expressions of their Love and of their Constancy to each other, and the cautious secrecy to be observed therein: By and by would she be ask him Questions of the Mistresses he had had in England, showing as it were a kind of jealousy of them, even at that distance. Then would they tell pleasant stories, with which, and other delightful pastime contrived by them, did they divert themselves till it was time to part; and that was not till about three or four in the Morning, when Señor Fadrique scratched gently at the door, as he had Orders from her, to put them in mind of it; which unwelcome Summons, much against their wills, they were forced to obey.  
Many other Nights did our happy pair of Lovers meet on this manner, to enjoy themselves; and once as they were chatting together of divers Matters, she pressed him to satisfy her truly of a thing which she was very desirous to know; and that was, if he had not another Mistress, either in Toledo, or in Madrid? Upon his faint denial, she positively affirmed, that she was confident he had; and further told him, she was informed he Courted her under the counterfeit Name of Leshia. He then blushing, confessed he had formerly made Love to such a one in Madrid, but protested he had quitted her a good while before his coming from thence. 'Twas time, said the Lady, when you found your Mistress of so compassionate and open hearted a temper, that she could not give denial to any of her Gallants, for fear of breaking their hearts, but gave free Entertainment to as many as came.  
Don Feliz was not only ashamed to be thus reproached, but was infinitely amazed at her knowledge of this Intrigue; which she easily observing, told him laughing, she would on slight terms release him from the trouble she perceived he suffered in his mind, by letting him know, that she came by her Intelligence, from a Song which an Acquaintance of hers, by listening one day under his Window in the Street, had heard him sing to his Viol.  
With this fair acknowledgement, he had all his uneasy apprehensions reduced into their quiet order again; but she urged him to repeat the Verses to her, it not being fit to sing them in that place, where many times they were under such strict confinement to silence, that they durst only whisper all their discourse, and were affrighted at every little noise they heard, till one of their Female Sentinels came to satisfy them what it was. He gave her a Copy of the Song, and she seemed not a little pleased with it, when she understood that both the words and Music were of his own Composition; admiting his great proficiency in the Spanish Language in so short a time. The same Verses turned into English, run thus.  

To me, what Favour do the Meadows show,  
If thus for all, their Flowers in common grow?  
Or what if Springs to quench my Thirst descend,  
If so those Springs, to all, their Waters lend?   

For Light, and Heat, what do I own the Sun,  
If round the World, this daily Course he run?  
Or how obliged for Luna's Influence,  
If she the same to every one dispense?   

O Lesbian, both in Form and Wit divine!  
How dost thou Nature's chiefest Works outshine?  
The Meads to Rival thee display their Pride;  
On thee to gaze, the Brooks do cease to glide.   

Thou hast, than Sol, more Beauties in thy Face;  
And thou in changing, dost the Moon surpass.  
If cheaply not exposed, how should I prise,  
That Angels Shape, that Mien, those sparkling Eyes?   

But Common made, each Grace I can refuse;  
Which solely to possess, before a Crown, I'd choose.   
Methinks, said Doña Faustina smiling, you have in this Song expressed a greater Passion than the Subject required; but I am well enough pleased, to think, that though she be thus contemptible, she has given me the opportunity of making this discovery of your skill in Poetry: But I should have been much better satisfied, had it been possible for me to have heard this performed by your Voice and Instrument together, which I am informed do accord with admirable Sweetness. Don Feliz told her, he was happy to have gained the Reputation of a good Artist in Music, with one who was so nice a Judge in all Ingenious Accomplishments, as her Ladyship was, and that too, without his having ever been put to the Trial.  
From this Passage of Don Feliz's kindhearted Mistress in Madrid, the Lady took occasion to warn him of the dangers of meddling with those Common Women, and gave him many sad Instances of fine Youths ruined by the cunning Allurements of those bewitching Circe's; not only in their Purses, but in their Persons too. Particularly one in that City, who was so Handsome, Brisk, and Gay, and so Enriched with all the Qualifications of a complete Gentleman▪ that as he was reckoned the Darling of the Ladies, attracting their Eyes at all times to admire him, whenever he appeared amongst them; so was he no less respected of the Best and Gravest Men, for his Excellent Parts and Ingenuity; and was an only Son, the Heir of an Honourable Family, and sole Branch of it that was then remaining. He was no sooner loosed from the strict Government of a Prudent Father, lately dead; but falling into an Acquaintance and League with some of those Lewd Women, he in a short time squandered away a Noble Estate among them, and then with crippled Limbs, and a disfigured Face, he was forced to appear for a while the Scorn and Contempt of all that beheld him, till at last he ended his Life miserably in an Hospital.  
Many such Examples of Terror did Doña Faustina relate, to deter her Gallant from running himself into the Snares of such Common Women. Those hot Countries of Spain, Portugal and Italy, being very fruitful in producing such Tragical Adventures daily: And I hearty wish, I could be able to say, that our colder Clime of England, did seldom yield any of the like Nature.  
Whilst Don Feliz, thus pleasantly enjoyed his happy Opportunities with his Mistress, which were most commonly every third or fourth Night, 'tis easy to be imagined that as his Brother Don Enrique must needs be very impatient to know the Reason of his being abroad, and walking the Streets at such unseasonable Hours; so he would omit no Industry to pump out the Secret from him, and this not only to satisfy his own Curiosity, but to preserve his Friend from those Mischiefs, into which it might plainly be foreseen he would involve himself, if not forewarned of them in time.  
And one day betwixt Twelve and One of the Clock after Dinner, (for in the heat of Summer they usually dine there at Eleven) as the two Friends were going up to their Bedchamber, which was over their Dining-room, to take their Siesta, or Mid-days Nap, according to the lazy Custom of the Spaniards, who, not knowing how to employ that time better, do commonly sleep till Three; they fell again upon the old Topic, Don Enrique gravely reproving him, for using the Term of Hermano, or Brother (for their Discourse was commonly in Spanish) when, said he, you treat me more like a Stranger, of whom you had cause to be jealous, than a Brother, whose Advice, it might be highly necessary to take in cases of danger. For you carry on, proceeded he, your private Intrigues, which I can well enough foresee, with half an Eye, must end, at least in the ruin of yourself, if not of us both, if you continue in these pernicious Courses; whilst I, though I have had a little more Experience in the Affairs of the World, than you can pretend to, am not worthy to be consulted about them, nor fit to be entrusted with any part of this Secret, no, not so much as to know how to disengage myself, in case I should, by your means, be brought into ill Circumstances, nor be able to assist you, in any Exigency. I shall therefore henceforward, disclaim that Title of Brother, and that of Friend too, as having no pretence to either.  
Don Feliz finding himself thus closely attacked again, would have defended himself with his accustomed Excuses, protesting he exposed himself to no manner of hazard, much less his Friend; but that there being a necessity of keeping this Affair secret, he entreated him, if he had any Respect or Kindness for him, he would forbear his further scrutitiny into the matter. Were there no other apparent signs of a threatening danger to your own Person, replied Don Enrique, than the unseasonable, and scandalous Hours, in which you almost Nightly frequent the Streets, when even the Spaniards themselves, and those of the Meanest Rank too, are scrupulous to do it; it were a sufficient Cause to alarm any one, who had the least concern for you, to put you in mind of your own Security in time, and to prevent the Ruin into which you are evidently falling. Besides, continued he, since you have found out these Night-walks, your Income is much improved; you are much more flush in the Pocket than formerly; but whence it arises, I am altogether ignorant; though I supposed, I had known the strength of your Rents and Revenues, while in this Country, as well as your self: And this your fear of a discovery, creates a suspicion in me, that your new Current of Wealth, flows from some ill Source.  
This rough Language nettling the young Spark; you press me, said he, more like a Magistrate that was resolved, to draw a Confession from a Criminal, by any means whatsoever, than like one who was concerned for his Friend's safety: And in express Terms you charge me, as if I came by these Advantages of Money, by some indirect and base way. I had thought the knowledge you have had of my Birth, Education, and Manners, would have gained me a better Opinion with you, than that you should conceive such mean suspicions of me; especially too, considering that you yourself have shared with me no small part of the Benefit, and yet without any scruple of Conscience. But to clear your Imagination of these Extravagant Conjectures; let it suffice to tell you, that I have an Intrigue of Love with a Lady of this Town, which I have engaged never to disclose, and must therefore conjure you to urge me no further in it; for only by satisfying your inquisitive Humour herein, I should render myself the most false and perfidious Man living.  
You tell me, said his Brother, but what I before suspected; and as you have given me this hint, so should you also discover the whole to me, who am, as you know, your Friend, and concerned more for your Good than for my Curiosity; it is but still, as it were locked up in your own Breast, because you can never suffer Injury by it. Therefore I cannot forbear enquiring further, who, and what she is; that in case I should not so effectually make you sensible of the danger, which you, who are a Foreigner, do incur, in Courting a Spanish Lady, be she Married or Single; yet you may at least, take my Advice, how to proceed with Caution in your Amour for the time to come. But hereof be confident, that tho' you still conceal the thing from me, you cannot always convey yourself so cunningly to your Mistress, and home again, but you will at one time or other be discovered. There will be prying Lynxes to find you out, and reveal your crafty Intrigue, to the Jealous Husband, the Brothers, or other near Relations, who will revenge this Affront done to their Honour and Family, with your Death: Or in case she be a Common Woman, which I confess I can scarcely think, by the supplies of Money you so constantly meet with, yet even such a one will have her Gallant, that will shortly find his opportunity to cut your Throat.  
By this Discourse, our firm Lover's Constancy, was a little shocked, and beginning to reflect on the dangers his Friend had been representing; he confessed to him he knew not who the Lady was, but believed her to be of Quality▪ that she lived very far off, but could not tell the place where; and then related, the manner of his being carried to her Lodging and back. Don Enriquez, being fully informed of the thing, used all the pressing Arguments he could invent, to make him sensible of the dismal Consequence, that must needs attend that rash and unwarrantable course of his.  
And they continued their Talk on this Subject for some time longer, as they lay on their Bed, till Sleep put an end to it, which kept them fast, almost three Hours, that it was passed Three of the Clock; and then as Don Feliz betwixt Sleep and Wake, was beginning to rub his Eyes in order to get up, he was startled at the rattling of a Stone in the Room, which somebody had thrown in at the Window; for the Windows there are made with cross Barrs of Iron only, having wooden Shutters on the inside, but seldom have any Glass before them. He got up and looked out to see who had fling it, but observed not any body beneath, except Passengers walking by; then searching for the Stone, found also a Note bound neatly to it, with a piece of Crimson Silk, and on it this Superscription. A don Feliz el Estrangero: To Don Feliz the Foreigner. Which he opening, Read as follows.  
Don Feliz.  
WEre you not the most perfidious Man living, you would not so easily have betrayed the Trust I reposed in you. All your Pretences, that no Torture should ever draw from you the least Article of our Intrigue, are very quickly forgot: And the whole Discovery made, without any damage to your own Person; while mine is exposed for a Sacrifice to your Indiscretion. Is this the effect of your fair Words, your repeated Oaths and boasted Fidelity? Can your great Courage and firm Constancy, make no better Opposition to so slight an Attack? But I may upbraid myself, for so rashly hazarding, both Life and Reputation in the Hands of a Stranger; and yet I have learned by this timely Precaution, not to expose myself any more to the mercy of his Tongue, who has so mean a Spirit, as can be induced to proclaim a Lady's Favours to him. No Excuse can palliate your Crime, 'tis beyond all Reparation. But seeing I have escaped the Mischief, of so base a Treachery, I can pass by the Affront, and attribute it to your Folly, and the ill Manners you brought from your own Country. And having now thrown you out of my Heart, I have also excluded you my Doors. Be not then hereafter so foolish to expect any further admittance to  
The Injured Doña Faustina.  
'Tis not possible to express the astonishment and confusion, that Don Feliz was in at his Reading this Letter. Vexed he was at the Soul, to see the scorn with which she treated him, and yet grieved, to think he should have been prevailed with to tell the whole Adventure, by which he had now lost the Favour of his Mistress; and more amazed was he, to consider who had been her private Intelligencer, so soon to carry her the News of it; resolving to watch the Eaves-dropper for the future, that if possible he might surprise such a one, he would be sure to quit scores with him for the good Office done him. Then was he enraged to reflect on his own Folly, that for Improvement of his Comrade, must needs hold such a Discourse with him in the Spanish Tongue, which if in English, might have been a Secret still.  
He thus revolving a thousand wild Fancies in his Head, went down Stairs, leaving Don Enrique a-sleep on the Bed, as he had all this while continued; then walking about from Place to Place, and muttering to himself, he seemed as one distracted, but could find no ease any where. When it grew near Ten a Clock at Night, it coming into his Mind, that at this time was the appointment for his waiting on Doña Faustina; he posted to the accustomed Station, where he used to meet the Chair, hoping that this might only prove a Dream or Trick of some other Person, and that the Lady all this while might not know of it: But at the Marble Conduit, he found neither the Chair, nor his Friend Señor Fadrique that should attend it, though he stayed till it struck Eleven. After this disappointment he returned home, and to bed, without giving Don Enrique any Account of the reason of his Disorder, though often urged to it, with great importunity.  
In this Melancholy Humour, he passed his time for three or four days, during which, no Musical sound was heard in their Lodgings; the Songs were now forgot; the Viol hung up untouched and untuned, and all their Harmony was spoiled; for their wont Mirth, and cheerful Conversation, was turned either to a sullen Silence, or jarring Discord, Don Feliz hardly affording his Brother, or indeed any other Person a civil Answer, to any thing that was said to him, and looked upon Don Enrique now, as the sole cause of all his Misfortune.  
The fourth Evening after his being thus discarded, as it was growing dark, and he was walking discontented by himself in the Plaçuela, he espied at a distance Señor Fadrique, crossing the further end of it; whom, as fast as his Spanish Gravity would permit he hasted to accost. The Escudero, or Gentleman-Usher (for that was his Office to Doña Faustina) seemed as if he were surprised at the sight of Don Feliz, and though he pretended Business and haste, yet was he content to be stopped for a moment.  
After a short Compliment, Don Feliz began to inquire of the Lady's Health, and seeming to wonder why he had not been attended by him, with the Chair at the old Station, the Night that had been agreed on. You know the Reason, Señor, I conceive, answered the Old Gentleman, better than I, who am totally ignorant of the matter, further, than that I find my Lady to have a great Quarrel against you, and conjecture that some body has been doing you an unkind Office with her; for she has told me in great fury, she has an Aversion to you, and is resolved never more to see your Face; and she has charged me, that for the time to come, I do not presume so much as to name your Name to her. I was attempting to plead for you; alleging that she might be mistaken in her Suspicions of you, or have entertained some envious Information to your prejudice, which you might clear, if admitted to make your own Defence; and that she was too rigorous thus to condemn an absent Person, merely by Hear-say; without allowing him to speak for himself, by which she might be satisfied of the Truth of the Fact, whereof he stood Accused. But she would listen to no Arguments in your Favour, and commanded me to be silent; adding that what she had been told concerning you, came from such Hands, that there could be no ground, in the least to scruple the Truth of it.  
Don Feliz's Trouble was increased, at the hearing this sorrowful Account of the ill posture of his Affairs, with his Mistress, and yet, he longed earnestly for a Reconciliation with her; for the obtaining whereof, he was content to pass by all the Indignities she had put upon him, by the scornful Expressions of her Letter, and her Words to her Servant. He therefore judged it necessary, to retain Fadrique for his Advocate, who had often tasted his Liberality before, and would consequently, he thought, be the readier to serve him now. He then stepping closer to Fadrique, thrust into his Hand a couple of Doblones or Spanish Pistols, which the Escudero did not much scruple the putting up; and at the same time Don Feliz told him, he was sensible that he had highly offended his Lady, but entreated Fadrique's kind Intercession in his behalf, since he utterly refused to stay the writing any Note or Letter to her; and Don Feliz desired him to press, that he might be once more permitted, at least to throw himself at her Feet, to beg her Pardon; since that way of proceeding with him was too severe, to punish him in the highest degree that was possible, without hearing what he could say for the palliating his Crime, which, he said, he doubted not but had been sufficiently aggravated by his Accuser.  
The Gold seemed to have wrought the usual effect which it does upon Persons of Señor Fadrique's, Profession; for before they parted, he shown himself much more complaisant than at their first meeting; and now he protested, he would hazard the loss of his Lady's Favour, for the Service of so worthy a Gentleman; who, he said, he was persuaded, had been wronged by some ill-natured Pickthank. And in confidence of his good Success, he appointed Don Feliz, at the usual Hour of Ten that same Night, to meet at the Conduit, where was their constant Rendezvouz; to which Fadrique engaged to come, either with, or without the Chair.  
Thus after a grave Compliment, and the Spaniard's begging to be excused for not staying till Don Feliz had writ, he went away, leaving our mortified Lover, in great hopes of having Matters accommodated between his Mistress and himself; but very impatient till the two Hours should be expired, it being now not above Eight a Clock at the most.  
As he walked about from one place to another, with great uneasiness to pass the time away; still guessing doubtfully what would be the Issue of this Message; and in case it should be listened to, and should come to a Treaty, with the Lady, he was considering what he had to plead in his own Defence. On this Subject, such variety of Arguments came flowing into his Head, that it made him fear, lest when brought before her, he should be in danger to perplex his Cause by overdoing, rather than advantage it. Presently he was transported with Joy, to think, how fair he stood, for the regaining that happy State and Condition he had lost by his Imprudence, and his dishonourable breach of Faith, with a Woman, from whom he had received such kind Treatment: But then he considered, that all the hopes he could muster, in his own Favour, were only collected from the sordid compliance, and cringing of her Servant, who for the Reward sake, would promise beyond his power of performance: By and by, he was ready to fancy, that this had not been an accidental Rancounter, but a thing designed by Doña Faustina, and Fadrique, to retrieve her lost Lover. Which Conceit for some time, extremely pleased him; but he afterwards fell upon another more disagreeable Thought, of what the Consequence would be, if it should not prove so, and began to consider how hard a matter it was, to appease the Rage of a Spaniard, whethe● Man or Woman, that had once been incensed against another, but much more against one that had affronted a Lady, who Loved him, and had entrusted her Honour in his Hands.  
This last Thought brought into his Memory, a Tragical Story, which he himself knew had happened, but just before his coming from Madrid, and was thus.   

THE Wronged Innocence cleared.  
THE Public Houses in which they sell Wine in Spain, are called Bodegones, and are of no greater Credit there, than our common Alehouses are in England. These have seldom more than one Room for the Entertainment of their Guests, where every one calling for his Quartillo of Wine, being about half a Pint, he mixes it with Water, drinks it off standing, and goes his way: But when Acquaintance meet, they will fall into Discourse, for half an Hour or longer, of News, or some other Subject; not much unlike the Conversation in our Coffeehouses. It was in one of these Bodegones, near the King's Palace in Madrid, that certain Persons were accidentally met together, at about Eight or Nine a Clock in the Morning, to take up their little Cup of Wine, and to chat a while, round a Brasero of Charcoal; for it was a sharp Morning at the beginning of March.  
Amongst these, a Gentleman happening to commend a Lovely Young Woman, but unknown to him, whom he chanced to have seen in the Street, at his coming in thither: The Company fell into Discourse of Handsome Women, naming several, as well of the the Town, as the Court, that were celebrated for Admirable Beauties. Now there being present in the Room, one of the King's Yeomen of the Guard, of that they call the Band of Flemings; he told the Company, that there was not one of all those Ladies they had extolled, but must in Reason subscribe to a fine Woman he had the Honour to know, which was the Incomparable Señore jacynta de Quiñones; and described her with more Eagerness and Passion, than was fit to be used, by any one in that Country, but much less a Stranger as he was. And before he made an end, gave his Tongue the liberty of boasting, as if he had received Favours from her. This Extravagance of his, did not a little amaze those that heard him, but principally a Merchant, who was a near Neighbour and Friend of that Woman's Husband; and he being desirous of a clearer Satisfaction concerning this Matter: Sir, said he, you are a most happy Man, to have the Enjoyment of so fair a Creature; but, with your permission, may I ask if this be not the Wife of Señor Alouso de Quiñones, the Rich Mercer of Silks, who lives by the Church of the Incarnation? I must not descend to such plain Particulars (answered the vainglorious Dutchman) after giving this Account of her, and yet I shall venture to say, she lives not very remote from that Church you named.  
His Folly and Impertinence would have transported him further, had not the Company been nauseated with it; and left him. But the Merchant in his walk home, called on his Acquaintance the Mercer, and after a Preamble of the Trouble he had suffered, to hear his Friend so publicly dishonoured by a Stranger, he gave him the whole Account of what passed; and protested it was the least Mark of his Friendship he could possibly express to so worthy a Person as Señor Alonso, to have cut that hoasting Villain's Throat, had he not been surrounded by divers others of the King's Servants: And added▪ that he had nevertheless hewn his way through the midst of them, to do it, did he not in Conscience believe the Lady to be Innocent, having only had the Misfortune to suffer that Blemish in her Honour, by the unbounded current of a scandalous Tongue; and that he feared by such an Action, to give a greater Authority to the Report.  
The Mercer dissembling his Passion, seemed to hearken to his Neighbour's Relation, with some slight, as not crediting the Fleming's boast; but so soon as his Friend was gone, though he loved his Wife dearly as his own Heart, and had never had the least cause of Suspicion of her before, yet was he now transported with Jealousy to the highest degree; and going up Stairs, in a great Rage, into her Bedchamber, he found her there sitting at her Table, before her Looking-Glass, and dressing her Head. The violent Fury he was in, gave him not leave at first, to utter one word, but walking to her, he with his left Hand laid fast hold of her curious braided Hair, whilst with his right, he drew out his Dagge●, which the Tradesmen there, as well as others, have always hanging at their Girdles, and was pulling her back in her Chair, intending to have sheathed it in her Breast; But upon a loud shriek which the affrighted Gentlewoman gave, and her crying out to know the Cause, of this his barbarous Treatment, who was about to Murder her, without acquainting her why he did it; he stopped his Hand, and told her, that though the Crime she was guilty of, was of so black a Nature, that she Merited not to have the least Moment's Respite allowed her, from the just and favourable Punishment he was about to infliction her for it; yet for her Souls ●ake, he would be so kind, to let her first ask God Forgiveness of the foul Sin she had committed against Him, and against so loving a Husband. And he charged her not to trifle away the little time she had to Live, but dispatch her Devotion quickly, since the Revenge due for so great an Injury, was no longer to be deferred. And as to her demanding a Reason for this rigorous procedure; she needed but appeal to her own Conscience, which could furnish her with Reason enough, to justify what he was about to do. She then falling on her knees, with the Tears showering from her Eyes, told him, that, she perceived, some Malicious Person, envious of the Happiness she had enjoyed with him, had been insinuating false Inventions into his Mind, for her destruction; and therefore conjured him, as he would answer the contrary, before the great Tribunal, at the last and dreadful day, that he would explain himself, and not thus cruelly butcher an Innocent Person, who had never yet in any degree broke her Marriage Vows made to him, with which he seemed to tax her, nor in any other respect had ever wronged him.  
The Edge of the Husband's Rage being a little taken off, by this beginning to expostulate, he proceeded to tell her, that though she had managed her Amorous Designs with that admirable Conduct, so as to keep them all this while concealed from him, yet that her Gallant had the Confidence to proclaim them to all the World. She still on her knees, putting a stop to the current of her Tears, prayed him to tell what Villain had the Impudence to utter so great a Falsehood? Do you ask, demanded he, which of your Lovers has made this Confession? It was Hendrick the Fleming, to day, did it publicly in a Bodegon.  
I cannot deny (answered his Wife, expressing the height of Indignation in her Looks) but I have seen that base Fellow, yet no otherwise than in your Company; and I must own, that you have reason enough to justify the Revenge you are about to Execute on her, who would prefer so contemptible a Wretch, to such a Husband as you had I really done so. But since you are possessed with what has been maliciously suggested against me, 'twill be a difficult Task to convince you of my Innocence, by any Apology I can make; yet I hearty beg, that before you proceed to take away my Life, you will give me leave for one. Hours time, to go abroad by myself, and if I bring not back most evident Proofs of my being wronged, and that your Honour, as also that of both our Families is secure from Scandal, I will without murmuring submit to the Death, which you threaten, and I shall justly deserve. And before you refuse me this Favour, Pray, call to your Remembrance the tender Affection you have so often expressed to me; also what Opportunities of dishonouring you, I have ever allowed myself, during the two Years that I have been your Wife, and the little colour of Truth there is in this scandalous Accusation of abusing you.  
These Motives, together with the real Love he had always had for her; the humble posture she was then in, and sweetness of her Countenance, which discovered not the least mark of Gild in it, and withal, her never having had any blot or least stain in her Reputation before, had by this time quite disarmed her Husband's Rage.  
You see, Senora, said he, very calmly stepping back, and sheathing his Dagger, you see what Influence you have over me; how easily I can comply with your Requests, and how scrupulous I am, lest I should happen, through an Error, to be Unjust to you, in not affording you a means, as I hope you may, of clearing yourself. All which would but more aggravate your Crime, should you still prove guilty; and would raise my Resentment to so high a pitch, as would make me search, till I found you out in your closest Sanctuaries, and thence drag you, that I might Execute on you by a severer Method, that Exemplary Justice, which I have now but threatened.  
After he had concluded this Parley with her, he went down Stairs, and left her to herself. She quickly followed, so soon as she was dressed, and had prepared herself for her purpose; And when she had composed her Looks, that she might not appear to have been Crying, she walked out, going directly to the King's Palace, and up the great Stairs, which divide the two principal Courts, and lead into the Guard Chamber. There she enquiring for Senor Hendrick the Fleming, was told he was below in the Court, talking with some Merchants of his Country: And one of his Brethren of the Guard, was so officious to serve the Fair Lady, as to go out to the Ballusters of the upper Cloister, which is near the Queen's Apartment, and from thence to show where he stood beneath, in the Court; which was then, and is daily, crowded with Merchants and others, at betwixt Eleven and Twelve of the Clock (for it was now about that Hour) so as the Royal Exchange in London, is, at Exchange-time; For there is the great resort of Persons of all Conditions, as well for their dispatch of Business together, as for hearing of News.  
The Lady having fixed her Eye on him, went down, and pressing forward till she came where he was, pulled him by the Cloak; He turning, and seeing at this Elbow a fine Woman, close veiled, left his Company, and began to imagine her some kind Creature, who falling in Love with his Person (of which he himself was not the least Admirer,) was come to give him an Invitation to some Amorous Entertainment; He therefore looking sweetly on her, was about to accost her with wanton Phrases, suitable to such Occasions. But it was not long before she shown, that her Business was of a more serious Nature. For ask him first, if his Name were not Senor Hendrick? And he satisfying her, it was so. She opened her Veil, discovered her Face, and demanded if he knew her? He, as one transported with Joy, and confirmed in his first Thoughts of her, answered briskly, yes, Madam, I have often seen and admired you. But did you never speak to me before? Proceeded the Lady, raising her Voice, and yet calmly. No Madam, replied the Dutchman, I have never had that Honour, till this happy Minute. Then base Villain, pursued the, let this be the Reward of thy Lying, Scandalous Tongue: At which words, she drew out a small Pistol, which she had held ready cocked under her Veil, and clapping it to his Breast, fired it, and shot him through the Body.  
The report and smoke of the Pistol, filled the whole Court with Astonishment; none being able to guests at the Occasion of it, but those who had been present, and heard the Words which passed between them; and those very Persons were so amazed, that though they beheld the thing done, and the Man fall, yet had not the power to lay hands on the Actress; as scarce believing it could have been that fine young Lady, who had done so bloody a Deed; she lifting up her Eyes, which till then had been fixed on the dead Man, boldly told the Spectators; It was she that had thus revenged herself on that Infamous Wretch, who had without Cause defamed her, and done her so great Injury, that the Law itself was not capable enough to repair it. And further added, that she had been careful to observe, whether or no the Work had been as well performed, as it was intended, for in case it had fallen short, she was prepared (showing another Pocket-Pistol) to have done it more effectually. But that since she had thus Executed on him, the Justice due to her wronged Innocence, she was ready to suffer with Pleasure, the most rigorous Punishment that could be inflicted on her.  
The Alguazils or Sergeants belonging to the Court, who are the proper Officers to seize and carry Offenders away to Prison, had, by this time, laid hands on her, and were about to drag her to the Carcel de Corte, which is the chief Prison of Madrid, (a Building, for its outward Beauty, more resembling a Stately Palace, than a Goal) but that the Queen, (for it was during the Regency of the present Queen Mother of Spain, and Minority of her Son, this King Charles the Second, that our Story happened) having heard the Pistol, and been told, that one of her Servants had been killed by a Lady, was curious to have a full Relation of the Matter: And because that none was able to give her Majesty any Satisfaction in it; She commanded the Woman to be brought up into her Presence, to have it particularly from her own Mouth.  
Senora jacynta, with the Tears all the while trickling down her Cheeks, gave the Queen a large Account of what had passed that Morning, relating to her and the Fleming; and though she shown to have an undaunted Courage as to the loss of her Life, for which she expected no Favour; and made appear the Satisfaction she had in her Revenge; yet did she Modestly express herself in such proper Terms, and with so becoming a Grace, under all that Misfortune, that not only the Queen, but every one there present, was extremely affected with a real Sorrow and Compassion for her. Insomuch, that her Majesty gave Order, that instead of being sent to Prison, she should only be detained in the Palace till the next Morning, and then appointed the whole Matter to be heard, by an Alcalde de Corte▪ who is a Judge or Magistrate, before whom such like Processes do properly come.  
On the Morrow, when the Husband was brought into the Court; and he with the several Witnesses who had been Summoned, were all fully heard; it appearing that Henrick the Fleming, was a Person Notorious, for boasting a pretended Familiarity with divers Women of Eminent Virtue; and some also of considerable Quality: And that by his last Words, he had owned in presence of so many Men of good Reputation, that he had never till then spoke to the Lady, she was there, by the Court declared Innocent of the Scandal that had been thrown upon her; And this Sentence was therefore pronounced in her Favour.  
That notwithstanding, Senora jacynta de Quinones, had been found Guilty of killing a Man; and with a Pocket Pistol, a Weapon (in that Country) so unlawful, that whatsoever Persons are taken, carrying such about them, they are condemned to serve in the Galleys for the space of four Years; and though this Act had been committed within the Verge of the Court, and even in the Royal Palace itself, where the striking but a Blow in a Quarrel, is a forfeiture of the Striker's Right Hand: Yet it was the Queen's Pleasure, the Woman should be pardoned, in regard the Fleming had but justly suffered for the Mischief, which by his Scandalous boasting, he had like to have brought on an Innocent Person.  
And the Queen was further pleased to prosecute her Kindness to the Woman, in causing the Merchant her Husband to be made fully sensible, that since his Wive's Virtue and Innocence, were so conspicuous to all the World, he should hereafter esteem it so; and a kind Reconciliation, being proposed betwixt them, was readily entertained by both, so that they were sent home very Loving Friends, with an Engagement never more to upbraid one the other, with what had happened on this Occasion.  
This Story of the Woman's Revenge on the Fleming at Madrid, coming thus fresh into Don Feliz his Memory, staggered his eager Resolution of meeting his Friend, Senor Fadrique, at the Calle de Carettees, at Ten a Clock, as had been agreed on, and it extremely perplexed him to think, that he was so unhappy as not to have any Confident whom he could entrust, or consult with, of what was best to be done in this Exigency. At length he reflected, how poor and dishonourable a thing it would be for him, out of a mere Faintheartedness, to decline the seeing his Mistress, and the fair hopes he had of regaining her Favour; especially when he had some cause to imagine, that his finding Fadrique in the Plaçuela, looked rather like a thing designed than accidental; since in all this walks up and down the Streets of the City, he had never seen Fadrique, but at such times as he was to bring him notice of going the same Night to Donna Faustina. And withal, he conceived that so violent a Love as she had always expressed to him, could not so quickly be converted into mortal hate, seeing his Crime was not to be compared with the Flemings; which was a public Boast in a Tavern, voluntarily made, and of Favours too, which, as it appeared, he had never received: Whereas this of his was only a discovery extorted from him, by an intimate Friend, who was no less concerned for his safety than his own, and consequently would never reveal the Secret, neither indeed could he, since he knew it but imperfectly. Thus he ran on making a parallel of the Circumstances on both sides, and concluding the whole matter in his own Favour: that the Lady could have no ground for taking away his Life, as Senora jacynta had done the boasting Flemmings.  
As he was entertaining himself with these Thoughts, he plucking out his Watch, saw it wanted not much of Ten a Clock; he therefore without allowing himself any further time of Debate, went in haste away to his old Station, where he walked almost three Quarters of an Hour, before he could see any appearance of his Conductors, which began to discourage him and make him despair of Success for that Night. But as he was giving his last Turn towards the Streets end by which they used to come, he met Fadrique almost out of breath for haste, looking with a pleased Countenance, and demanding Albricias, as their Phrase is, meaning a Present or Reward for the good Tidings he brought; and then acquainted him, that the Lady being at last overcome by the pressing Importunity he had made on Don Feliz his behalf, was contented to admit him to make the best Defence he could for himself.  
Scarce had Don Feliz the patience either to answer, or to ask any Questions of him, so overjoyed was he at the News; but getting nimbly into the Chair, which by this was come up, he was carried away with great speed to her House; and going up into the Room, saw her by and by enter, but in so furious a Passion, that he soon began to repent his coming thither. She upbraided him with the breach of all his Promises and Oaths, and with the poor weakness of his Temper, that could so easily be wrought upon to reveal a Secret of that Importance, to a Person whom he should rather have called to account for his rude Impertinence, than have endeavoured on that tame manner, to satisfy him in every particular, and heedlessly to discourse it all the while with him in the Spanish Tongue, so loud, as to give Listeners an opportunity of bringing her a Relation of it. Every little Circumstance of the whole Matter she aggravated too, to the highest pitch, that a Woman's Anger and Malice could possibly suggest. And in thus venting her Passion, she herself, raised her Voice so loud, that one of her Duenas was obliged to look in at the door three or four times, and by signs to put her in mind of being more hushed.  
He thought it not convenient to heighten the Lady's Rage, by a quarrelling Justification of himself, though sufficiently provoked to it, and yet attempted mildly several times to excuse his Fault, by the studied Arguments he had brought along with him; which was all in vain, for she gave him not the hearing of them, neither regarded the Patience and Respect with which he bore all the Indignities she put upon him. Which course usage was beginning to have kindled as great a flame of Passion in his Breast, as was raging in hers, had he not better considered the ill consequence of such a piece of Rashness, and bethought himself of a more secure way to stop the current of her indefatigable Tongue. He raised up his Body from the humble posture in which he stood to sustain all the shock of her furious Reprimands, then stepping forwards, he seized her in his closest Embraces, and gave her such a shower of Kisses, as almost stifled her, with which he quickly silenced the Rattle of her shrill Voice. After this, he pushing her gently backwards to the Bedside, ceased not to prosecute his Amorous Victory, till he had quite disarmed her of all her conceived Anger; for he urged so many Arguments of his Love to her, and pressed them home with so much fervency, as they were on the Bed together, that she afterwards confessed his Rhetoric was so powerful, and so very charming, she could no longer forbear giving him a general Act of Indemnity.  
After this fair Adjustment of all differences betwixt them, our two Lovers thought fit to remove from the Bed to the Table, and the Lady giving her accustomed sign at the Door, to her Duenas, they brought in their Salvers of Biscuits, Sweetmeats, and variety of delicate Liquors, with which Don Feliz and his Mistress having refreshed themselves, they were for a while contending in Words, which of them should utter the greatest Expressions of their Love and true Affection one to the other, wherein they did not scruple to protest solemnly, that they were ready to lay down their Lives, each for the other's safety, in case of Exigency. And yet after all these Endearments, and Promise of a perperual Amnesty of all Faults on both sides, Donna Faustina could not forbear hinting upon the old Topic again, by way of Advice to him, begging him to beware of running into the same Error again, and to avoid all other Occasions, that could afford the least cause of suspicion, and particularly in case he should chance to see her in any Place whatsoever, that he should at the instant, turn away his Eyes, and post quickly from thence, lest his very Looks should betray the Thoughts of his Heart, and some curious Observer make from thence a discovery of their Loves.  
She then discoursed to him, how remarkable the English Merchants, and the Flemencos, or Flemings, were in that Country, for their indiscreet gazing on any Lady they liked, whether it were in Coach, Window, or elsewhere, and that they had shown such seeming Pleasure and Delight, in staring in their Faces, as if they had some crafty Intrigue with them, which Folly of theirs, had created so violent a Jealousy in the Husband or other Relation, as has proved of very fatal Consequence, and many times, to the Persons themselves, who gave the occasion for it.  
This Night their Conversation was interrupted sooner than ordinary, by one of the Duenas who came from the Post where she stood Centinel (for those two Women took that Duty nightly by turns) to observe what passed in the House, and to bring speedy Notice thereof, for preventing any surprise that might happen to them, so she packed him away in haste. But notwithstanding all their Kindness, she seemed to retain some little displeasure still in her Heart, for she either omitted on purpose, or forgot his Fee of two or three Doblones, at parting, which she seldom failed to put into his Hand, on pretence of satisfying the Charge he was at, in gratifying her Servants that waited on him, and his Landlord for sitting up to let him in at his return home, with other incident Expenses on her account.  
From that time forward, the Correspondence of these Lovers, was carried on with all the Success and mutual Satisfaction, they could possibly desire, they still continuing their Nightly Meetings, at their proper and appointed Seasons. And after the Transports of their Love were over, it was their Custom for passing away the time, as they sat over their silver Brasero of Coals, to entertain one the other with the pleasantest Discourses or Stories, they could think of. She also took great delight in hearing how different the several Modes of his Country were from hers, and in making Comparisons of one with the other: The Beauty of their Women would sometimes happen to be their Theme, and then the Constancy and prudent wariness of their Lovers; The Honour of the first of these, she, by a general Report, allowed to those of his Country; but the Credit of the latter she affirmed was to be attributed to the Spaniards; for she could not believe the English to have Contrivance enough for managing an Intrigue of Love, with that discreet Resolution as it ought to be, but she said, she was confident they would be apt to spoil all, by being too timorous on the one Hand, or too rash on the other. And added, that Lovers in England (as she had been told) were not put to such hard shifts for finding out Ways to court their Mistresses, as in Spain they were always forced to, and often proved to the Hazard of their Lives; since the English, she said, had all the Opportunities they could desire, of talking freely with Women, whether married or unmarried, and even in the Presence of their Fathers, Husbands, or nearest Relations, without Jealousy, or the least Scruple whatsoever, which made them so careless of their Behaviour abroad.  
Don Feliz told her, he was not willing to enter into Argument with her for rectifying the slight Opinion she had of those of his Country, as to their Skill in the managing of Intrigues; or to justify the innocent Freedom there allowed to Men and Women in their common Conversation: But if she pleased, for the avoiding such Disputes he would rather strive to divert her with an English Love-Story, of a very Modern Date; which contained something of Intrigue in it, and therefore he hoped would the better relish with her. And he assured her that the chief Persons therein mentioned were of his Acquaintance. The Lady gladly accepted his offer, and he thus began.   

The Generous Impostor.  
'TWas on a fine Summersday, at about Eight a Clock in the Morning, that three Citizens, who had been Merry-making with some Friends in the Country, were galloping from Ware towards London, and happened to see a Lovely Young Women, in no mean Habit, sitting under the shadow of a spreading Tree, that grew on the Road-side, betwixt Enfield and Edmonton. The melancholy Posture in which she was, incited the Curiosity of the hindmost of the three to stop his Career, that he might learn of the Lady, why she made choice of so dusty a place to Repose herself in; and yet this sight had not Influence enough on his two Companions, to make them halt, or to concern themselves for her; but calling, away, away, they spurred on and left him. He coming nearer, perceived her to be weeping, though she strove as much as she could, to conceal it; which obliged him to change, the Merry Compliment he had designed to accost her with, into a more serious Address; desiring, with great earnestness, to know if she had suffered any Misfortune, or that any one had offered her an Injury; protesting he would very zealously endeavour to serve her to the utmost of his power. The Lady returning him Thanks for his Civility, assured him, that nothing of that had happened to her, in her Journey; and added, that no Inconvenience attending her, could be of so great moment as to make him lose his Company, for an Enquiry after it. Mr. Cooper, (for by that Name I shall call this Gentleman,) thinking to divert her, told her cheerfully, that he was a professed Knight Errand, and never thought himself so well employed, as in the Service of distressed Ladies, and though he was not willing to be too officicious and impertinent, yet could he not forbear pressing to know the Cause of her Trouble. The Gentlewoman who was yet hardly able to restrain the Current of her Tears, endeavoured to persuade him not to be so inquisitive after that which would give him very little Pleasure to know; but finding she could not put him off with any Excuses, and that she was still urged, though with great Civility by him, to satisfy his Curiosity, she confessed that it was chief her weariness, had put her into that disorder, having indiscreetly undertaken a tedious Journey, which she doubted, she was not able to perform.  
By this time, Mr. Cooper had alighted from his Horse, and sitting down by her, began to show a Concern for her Trouble, with a Zeal to be assisting to her; and desired to know the Places Name to which she was going. She satisfied him, and that it was about four or five Miles off Cambridge. This, he said, was but a small Journey, and needed not so much to discourage her; since she might very easily be set down there by Night; and asked where her Horses, or Coach stayed for her? She renewing her Tears, owned that she was on foot, and had so come from London that Morning.  
He could not comprehend the Mystery of what he heard and saw; for after a careful survey of the Lady, he was amazed to think, why so fine a Young Woman, of such a genteel Appearance, and in that Condition she seemed to be, which was big with Child, should venture so far on Foot. But guessing that his Service to help her on her Journey, might be more acceptable, than to detain her longer in that Place with frivolous Questions; he put her in mind of the danger of sitting there on the cold Ground, and advised her to be walking forwards, offering her his Hand to conduct her as far as Enfield. This Kindness she would have refused, begging him to remember his Company gone the other way; But Mr. Cooper persisted to wait on her, leading her along the Road; and as thus they walked, could not but admire her discreet Answers to the several Quetions he made her, and the graceful Passion with which she expressed herself, which raised in him a greater desire to understand more of her Condition.  
When they came to an Inn in the Town, Mr. Cooper left her a while to repose herself, and after discoursing the Master of it, ordered a handsome Pillion to be fixed on his own Horse, which was a stout Gelding, and an easy Pacer; Then stepping in to his distressed Lady; after they had taken a small Bait, he acquainted her with the sorry shift he had thought on, to convey her two or three Miles on her way, there being no better Convenience to be had for her in that place, which he entreated her to accept. Fain would the Gentlewoman have dissuaded him from giving so great trouble to himself, alleging a thousand Reasons against it, and concluded with the danger of being so found by any of her Husband's Acquaintance, in a Stranger's Company: He assured her, that though he was unknown to her, yet his Intentions were very Honourable, for all his end was but to do her this small Service, which he hoped could bring no manner of blemish to her Reputation; and as for his own part, he had no apprehensions of danger that could attend himself. And with such like Arguments the Fair Lady was at last prevailed with, to be lifted up behind him; so on they Road for Waltham Cross.  
This Gentleman, who was a Rich Merchant, of admirable Parts, not long since returned out of Italy, and was somewhat under Thirty Years of Age; having this Opportunity of Talking to the Lady, strove by a pleasant Entertainment of Ingenious Discourse, to divert her Melancholy; and she also herself, endeavoured with her utmost Skill to dissemble it. But the many Sighs which at unawares escaped from her, did too plainly discover, it was no small Trouble, that was contained within her Breast; which how industrious soever she was to conceal, our Generous Merchant was no less impatient to draw an Account of it from her; but yet by all the most plausible ways he could invent.  
They quickly got to Hodsdon, and she renewing her Entreaty to be set down there, he spurred on the faster, protesting he would not for the World be guilty of so much Barbarity, to leave a Lady in her Condition, till he had brought her to her Father's House, whither she had acquainted him she was going. His great Civility in this respect, and all the rest of his Carriage to her was so obliging, that after some further pressing; she was contented, infandum renovare dolorem, to discover to him, the whole Story of her Misfortunes, which she related on this manner.  
I do not doubt, kind Sir, but you will hearty repent the Charity you have bestowed on me, when you shall find that your Generous Temper, and your pressing Curiosity, had extorted from me a Secret that will render me the most odious, and most contemptible Creature of all my Sex. And though, to me, it be of the most dangerous Consequence imaginable, to give you this Account, yet since you have thus solemnly engaged never to divulge it, I shall believe you to be a Man of so much Honour, as faithfully to keep your Word with me.  
Be pleased then to know, Sir, that I am an unfortunate Daughter of Doctor N. a Reverend Divine, and Minister of that Parish, to which I am now going, who having not many Children, gave us, as we grew up and were capable of it, such Education as his narrow Fortune of about Three Hundred Pounds a Year would allow, being careful to instil into us the best Rules of Virtue and Piety. I was sent to a Boarding School, to be instructed in the French Tongue, and those other Accomplishments of Music, Dancing, and Fine Works, which Young Gentlewomen are Taught at such places. Which Breeding as I was then told, was to serve me for a Portion; my Father being able to add little more to my Fortune, when I should happen to Marry: or else, that it was to qualify me for the Service of some Lady, in case any such Opportunity were presented to me.  
It was into the latter of these Conditions, when I ventured into the World, that my ill Fortune guided me: For by the Recommendation of a Person of Quality related to my Mother, I was entertained by a Baron's Lady to be her Woman. The Good Lady Treated me, being Young, with much more Tenderness and Affection than I deserved at her Hand, as by the sequel of my Story you will find, causing me in those Accomplishments, which I had but rudely essayed to Learn at School, now to be improved, by the same Masters who Taught her own Daughter. Which Goodness of hers, I requited with the basest Ingratitude imaginable. For having the Misfortune to be by some esteemed Handsome, or at least appearing so in the Eyes of my Lord, whose Vicious Inclinations to Debauchery with Women, placed him much beneath the Character, commonly given of him in the World, which cried him up for his great Wisdom, Sobriety, and Goodness; By this reputed Saint, I say, was I often solicited to Lewdness, which I resisted, for several Months, with great Resolution.  
At her coming to this Passage of her Story, the Young Woman's Tears broke out afresh, that she was not able, for some time, to proceed in it, till mastering that Transport of her Passion, and drying her Eyes, she thus went on.  
My Lord's base Lust, seemed rather more inflamed, than any way abated, by my resolute Denials. For seeing I was not to be won by fair means, he strove by subtlety to obtain his Ends; watching many Opportunities to catch me alone, and in Places convenient for his Lewd Purpose; all which Stratagems I still evaded by my nimble slipping from him, and running into Company, where I believed he durst not pursue me. Thus I endeavoured to keep my Virtue unblemished, till one unhappy Afternoon, when I knew my Lady was gone out to make her Visits, and thinking he had also been abroad, because I saw but few of his Servants within doors, who indeed, as I afterwards discovered, had been sent out by him on purpose; I was coming into my Lord's Dressing Room, intending to entertain myself with some of the Books which usually lay there: But he, who was watching for such an Opportunity, suddenly rushing out of his Study, caught hold on me, and though I long resisted, crying, and struggling, yet at last, he with Threats and Violence, mixed with fair Words and large Promises, of what generous Provision he would make for me, obtained his Will, leaving me for ever, with the base Brand of a Strumpet.  
Here was the current of her Discourse again interrupted, by another shower of Tears, accompanied with a storm of sighs and sobs, which had such Influence on our compassionate Merchant, that he was extremely touched with a Sense of her Condition. And that he might divert her Grief, he put her in mind of her Story, of which he was impatient to hear the Conclusion.  
When afterwards, (continued she, striving to suppress her Sorrow,) I had well considered the black Deed that I had committed, and how ill I had stuck to those Excellent Methods of Governing myself, which had been given me by my good Father, I was almost distracted, and had it several times in my Mind, to have made a way myself, could I have contrived an effectual Means of doing it, especially too, when I found my Lord still pursuing the course of his Lusts; but I was deterred from such Thoughts, by reflecting, that to destroy myself, had been still to increase my Crime, by my adding Self-murder to it. And, my Lord, observing my constant Averseness to all his Offers, and that I was not by any Trick he could use, to be brought to a second Compliance with him, desisted from any further Attempt.  
It was not long before my Affliction, was infinitely increased, for I was sensible of that which I dreaded more than Death itself, and finding my Shame begin to be visible to the World, I could not think what would become of me. I acquainted my Lord with it, who to prevent the Scandal that was like to fall upon himself, got me packed out of doors, pretending to Marry me to a Citizen. And seeing I absolutely refused to be kept for his Miss, gave me Two Hundred broad Pieces of Gold, with which he hoped, I might either get me a Husband, or at least be encouraged not to lay violent Hands on myself.  
I took a private Lodging in the City to be brought to Bed in, but with so blind a Pretence, that they might easily (as I could perceive) guess at the Truth of the Matter: And out of doors I durst scarcely stir by Daylight, for fear of being met by any of my Acquaintance. Here I stayed till such time as my own stock of Money, which I had been able to lay up, was beginning to sink very low; and being continually tormented with the sting of a guilty Conscience, for the Wickedness I had committed; I was possessed with a strong belief, that to punish it, God would suffer me to be Murdered in that obscure Place, for the sake of my Gold; some of which I had been obliged to boast of, for the gaining me a Credit amongst those People, to whom I was a Stranger, for which reason they had been unwilling at first to receive me in amongst them.  
And having now neither Friend nor Confident to trust with the Secret of my Misfortune; I, though my first Intentions had been to lay my great Belly in that House, durst not stick to that Resolution, lest dying in Travel, my Child might be deprived of the Two Hundred Pieces of Gold, which I had-been careful to preserve entire.  
After I had revolved a Thousand Extravagant Thoughts in my Mind, to contrive which way I should dispose of myself, without hazarding my own Life and my child's, or publishing my Ignominy; I, at last concluded to go into Cambridgshire, to my Father and Mother; who, I hoped would not be so Uncharitable to let me perish in that Condition, though they should refuse to entertain me in their House, having brought upon them so great a Scandal. For I could think on no better Expedient, than to make a plain Confession to them of my Misfortune, and afterwards submit myself to their Discretion, to dispose of me as they should think fit.  
Now because I foresaw the Misery into which I was plunging myself, I contrived to manage my Affairs with the greatest Frugality I could, and to that end sending down my Trunks by the Carrier, I resolved for the saving of Charges, to walk it after them on foot. So by break of day this Morning I set out, and was able to reach no further on my Journey, than the Place where you found me; and must have stayed at Enfield for some Convenience of Coach or Wagon to have carried me Home, had not your Charity been thus ill employed on such an undeserving Wretch, which indeed is more Favour than I can expect from my own Parents: For I am in dread, they will have so great Abhorrence of my Wickedness, that they will scarce admit me into their Doors, or own me for their Child, in this reproachful Condition.  
Here she made an end of her Melancholy Relation, but gave beginning to another stood of Tears, which very much excited Mr. Cooper's Compassion towards her, and a desire of assisting her in this distress. He used the best Rhetoric he was Master of, for appeasing her Grief, and for convincing her that it was now too late to remedy what was past, by an excess of Sorrow: but that without doubt▪ she might better expiate her Crime, by her future Good and Virtuous Course of Life. He likewise advised her, that since the Circumstances of the Thing were not yet known, she should strive to keep them under disguise, from the knowledge of any Person whatsoever: And begged her that being so near Home, she would not seem to have been Crying, but appear to her Friends, with the most composed and cheerful Look, she could possibly frame.  
After this, and a little further Consultation how to put some fair Varnish on the Matter, they ended the Day and their Journey together, at her Father's Door. Here they alighted, and were joyfully received by the good Doctor and by her Mother, who wondered at their unlooked-for Visit, and blamed Mrs. Katherine, (which was her Name) for sending them no Notice of her coming; but they were more surprised, seeing Mr. Cooper on his Knee, and ask their Blessing. What's this, Daughter, demanded the Doctor, have you also brought with you a Husband without our Knowledge of it beforehand? Ay, by my Truth! said her Mother, and a Great Belly too, or I am much mistaken. Mr. Fisher, (for so Mr. Cooper had now thought fit to call himself) made a most Ingenious Apology and Excuse, for carrying on his Courtship so secretly, without taking their Approbation, and for concealing their Marriage for so long a time, alleging such plausible Reasons for that, and for the quitting her Lady's Service, as very well satisfied both Father and Mother; who besides a kind Reception, often bestowed on them their hearty Blessing.  
The rest of the Evening after Supper till Bedtime, was spent in much pleasanter Discourse, and more agreeable Conversation, than the day before it had been. But it growing late, and the Mother reminding them of their weariness after so long a Journey, hastened away her Daughter to Bed, whilst Mr. Fisher would needs stay below, till his Father should have Smoked out his Pipe.  
The Doctor was proud to find his Son-in-Law, so Ingenious and Well-bred a Man, guessing him from thence, to be of Excellent Skill in his Procession, which he told him was a Surgeon: And he commended him for his Industrious Travelling into Foreign Countries, as he informed him he had done, for Improvement of his Skill in Chirurgery. But it being high time to part, and for Mr. Fisher to go up to his Chamber, he did so. And now was the critical Part to be acted, on which depended the Credit of the whole Entrigue: For Mr. Cooper, to clear the Young Gentlewoman of the Infamy that must have fallen upon her, was necessitated, as you have heard, to own her for his Wife, though under the borrowed Name of Fisher, and now he must Lie with her too, that is to say, in her Room, or else it might create a Suspicion hereafter, that this had been but a Trick; and so this Generous Imposture might be detected.  
She would fain have thought on some other Expedient, and have waved this; but he judged it most requisite, for keeping up the Reputation they had now gained; and protested a thousand times not to offer her the least Incivility; for that he would only roll himself in his Cloak, as many a time he had been forced to do in his Travels; would throw himself on the Chairs, and it being a warm Summer's Night, he doubted not but to Sleep very sound. The Lady told him, that He who out of the Generosity of his Mind, could condescend to act so mean a Part as he had done that day, purely for the Charitable assisting of an Unhappy, Young Woman, in distress; could not possibly, she was confident, be guilty of breaking his Word with her, or of any thing else that was dishonourable; and that therefore she should only lie in pain to think, he must have so uneasy a Night's Lodging for her sake.  
On this manner did Mr. Cooper lay himself down, where the tiresomness of his days Journey, together with his sitting up late, gave him no Opportunity either to find fault with the hardness of his Bed, or to seek about the Room for an easier: For falling fast asleep, he awaked not till Five a Clock the next Morning, though he thought it to be much later; and fearing to be surprised as he thus lay rough, he got up and walked out into the Fields, where he met his Father with a Book in his Hand. The Doctor admired to see him stirring so early; and after various Discourses of News, and of the Parts abroad beyond the Seas which his Son Fisher had seen, the Doctor began to reckon up the several ways, which he had contrived for their Divertisement, and what Visits they should make during their stay in the Country, particularly to a Widow Lady of a considerable Estate, who was his Wife's Sister, and Godmother to his Daughter; also to some of their Relations in Cambridge, and other Places.  
But Mr. Fisher told him, he was extremely sorry to let him know, that his Affairs would not permit him to enjoy those Favours designed him; for he was obliged to be back at London, by to Morrow Night. The Father at first supposed him in Jest; but finding him serious, was troubled to think he should so soon part with his Son and Daughter; and hearing him after Dinner fall upon the same Subject again, both Father and Mother were persuading him to put off his Journey, if possible, for some little time longer, and pressed to know the Necessity of such a hasty Return.  
Sir, said he, I last Night acquainted you with some Circumstances of my present Condition, but not all, and must now add, that I had lately an advantageous Proposal made me by an Eminent Courtier, and my Honoured Friend, of going to Sea, as chief Surgeon to one of his Majesty's Frigates, called the Dreadnaught, ordered to Convoy a Fleet of Merchant Ships to the West-Indies, where for some time she is appointed to Cruise, for clearing the Coasts of our several Islands, and other Plantations there, of the Buccaniers, with whom they are very much infested. So that besides the benefit of a handsome Salary, such considerable Advantages may be made by an industrious Traffic with the People of those Countries, as have encouraged me to accept the Offer▪ For should I have refused it, not a few Candidates of the most Eminent of our Faculty, in the City, stood ready to have put in for the Employment. On this Occasion▪ Sir, I have brought down my Wife, and doubt not of my Mothers and your Care of her in my absence, and at my Return, I hope to be in a Condition of making a sufficient Acknowledgement to you both, for the Favour you will do us.  
At their hearing this, the Doctor and his Lady looked one upon another with great Concern, perceiving such a Charge as their Daughters Lying in to be thus unexpectedly coming upon them; together with the Maintenance of her, and her Child; and no future Provision for them, more than the uncertain hopes of her Husband's Profitable Voyage, to satisfy for all. The Consideration of which, did so much perplex them, they knew not what Answer to make him.  
Mr. Fisher (for so I must still call him) noting their Silence, and expecting no less, at his starting the thing to them, took occasion to tell them, that he guessed at the Reason of their surprise; which was, that they imagined, he would leave his Wise and Child destitute of a Subsistence, and throw the burden wholly on them, which he said was the least of his Intentions. Then pulling out of his Pocket, a Purse with the Two Hundred Broad Pieces in it, he threw it into his Father's Lap, adding, that though as yet, he had entered into no Treaty concerning her Portion, which he should at present wave; he would not go from thence without a Husband's Care of her; and acquainted them with the Sum contained in it, which they found to be so.  
The glorious Brightness of the Gold soon dispelled all Clouds of Doubt and Suspicion out of the Faces and Minds of the good Doctor, and of his Wife, and loosed the Organs of their Speech, making him now able to tell his Son, that since the necessity of his Affairs would not permit them to be so happy to keep him at present amongst them, they must be contented, to be deprived of him, till his Good Fortune should bring him safe back, which they hoped would not be very long. And they expressed great Fear of the many Dangers, which they were sensible he must be exposed to, in the performance of such a Voyage. But the Doctor assured him of his daily Prayers for his Preservation, his Health, and good Success in his Affairs; and further, made him not only a Soleman Promise of his utmost Care for his Wife and Child, but of Mustering up what Sum he possibly could for her Portion, against his Son's Return from Sea.  
The next Morning, after many kind Endearments expressed on all sides. Mr. Fisher bad farewell to all his Friends, and spurred away for London, because his Ship on which he was to go aboard, was ready to set Sail with the first fair Wind, as he said; but he lest his pretended Wife in great Affliction, at her parting with so Generous a Friend; and her Father and Mother were in little less Trouble, to think of the long and dangerous Voyage he had undertaken.  
It was but a few Weeks after her Husband's departure, that Mrs. Fisher was brought to Bed of a Fine Boy, to the great Rejoicing of all her Relations; and now nothing was so much wished for, ás to hear good News of the Child's absent Father, who promised to write by the first Opportunity he should meet with. But instead of what they so earnestly expected, there came a Letter about three Months after, from Mr. Fisher, giving an Account of his dangerous Sickness, which Letter was enclosed in another, from the Surgeon's Mate of the Man of War, bringing the sorrowful Tidings of Mr. Fisher's Death, who sell Sick on Shipboard of a violent Fever and a Flux, which in few days had carried him into another World, but not that which he was Travelling to have seen.  
Our Young Widow's Grief for the pretended Death of her Husband, was so admirably well counterfeited, that none could doubt the Truth of it; nor was it possible for any one to imagine, that this Contrivance had been laid beforehand, to be after this manner carried on, as it was. Her Father also and Mother, who had an extraordinary Fondness for both Son and Daughter, were real shearers of her feigned Sorrow, althô their Son's stay with them had been so short, and their knowledge of him so little. And that which added something to their Trouble, was to consider the impossibility of recovering any part of his Effects left on Shipboard: But they comforted their Daughter the best they could, entreating her, that for her little Son's sake, the would not lay this Affliction too much to Heart, left her Parents should have Cause to lament two Deaths instead of one; and they made her large Promises of their future Kindness to her, in her Fortunes.  
She formally put herself into deep Mourning; and most of her Relations and Friends, came to condole with her upon the Death of her Husband; amongst whom was the Rich Aunt, her Godmother▪ who had great Compassion on her Niece, by reason of this early Misfortune, being as yet but in the Nineteenth Year of her Age. 'Twas this Consideration, that induced the Charitable Lady, to take home to her House our Melancholy Widow, for some small time, till the violence of her Grief should be a little abated, which did not endure very long. And there her pleasant and discreet Conversation, was so charming to her Old Aunt, that she could not think of parting with her, but kept her for her Companion, above Two Years.  
At this time, some extraordinary Occasions drew this Good Lady from her Country Retirement, where she intended to have ended her days, and had continued during her Widowhood, which was about Four or Five Years, and brought her to London again. Amongst her Friends in the City, she took Handsome Lodgings, for herself and her Fair Niece; who for her Beauty and rare Perfections was admired by all that saw her. And though she appeared not often abroad, except at the Church, which she under her Aunt's Wing diligently frequented, yet had she soon acquired the Title of the Charming Widow; for that Dress which she still wore, did most admirably become her.  
One Evening, her Aunt and She being Invited out by some Ladies of their Acquaintance, to an Eminent Ball, she there drew on her the Eyes of the young brisk Citizens, who were extremely taken with her delicate Shape and Mien, as well as with the sweet Air of her Modest Countenance. And some of them would gladly have been making Courtship to her, had they not been awed by the severe Regard of her Prudent Aunt.  
Amongst the Crowd of her Admirers, was a Merchant of considerable Note, who from the first Moment of his coming into that Room, had fixed his Eyes on her, and from so fair on Object, was not able to remove them, but continued in his Corner, as if Transformed into a Statue. Yet was it not Love only, that had reduced him to this strange Condition, but withal a kind of Amazement, and Trouble, which he had within himself, by reason of a strong Imagination, he was possessed with, of having seen that Incomparable Person somewhere before, and an Endeavour to recollect to his Memory where it was; but to no purpose, for all his Conjectures served but to puzzle him still the more.  
In this perplexity he remained till towards the conclusion of the Ball; when his Impatience would not suffer him longer to rest, without endeavouring to be satisfied, who she was: But as he stood up, and was about to inform himself by some of the Company of her Name; the Lady casting her Eyes that way, happened to espy him. The first glimpse she had of his Face, and the Curiosity which detained her Looks upon it, struck her into so great an astonishment, as is not to be expressed, and seemed to have searched all the Blood of her Body into her Cheeks. For though she, at the very instant that she beheld him, knew him to be her Generous Friend Mr. Cooper, yet the Report of his Death, for which, she had as much lamented as if really true, under the Title of her Husbánd, and the pretended Name of Mr. Fisher, having been so generally spread abroad, and their Project been so formally carried on in all points, for almost the space of three Years. without her hearing any News of him, in all that time, it had so confounded her Reason, that for a while, she could hardly persuade herself, but that she saw his Ghost. And so great an Influence had this Fancy over her, that it quickly made the blushing Colour retire from her Cheeks, leaving so chill a paleness in its stead, that she immediately fainted, and dropped from her Chair on the Floor.  
This sudden Accident put a stop to the Harmony of Music and Dancing for the present, and gave some disturbance to most of the Company that had taken notice of her, as being concerned for her Illness, and particularly to her Aunt, who after she had a little recovered her from that Fit, had her carried down to her Coach.  
Tho' Mr. Cooper could not in all this time call her to his Remembrance, yet was he as much troubled for her as if he had known her, and was very officious to help her down the stairs: Nor was he at ease, till he had heard her tell her Aunt, that this was only a fainting Fit, occasioned by the closeness of the Room, and her want of Air in the midst of so great a Crowd. By that time she got home, she was perfectly recovered of her Indisposition, and walked from the Coach into her Lodgings; whither her Gallant had been careful to follow her undiscovered; And there making Enquiry concerning her, he learned of one of the Servants, that she was a Cambridgeshire Gentlewoman, Niece to the Lady D. who had lately brought her to Town, and her Name Mrs. Fisher.  
He then immediately knew her to be his once pretended Wife, and afterwards his Widow; which increased his surprise, and raised in him more than an ordinary Curiosity, to find out some means of speaking to her. But because he was fearful lest his being remembered by any of their Family, might be of prejudice to her Reputation (for he knew not as yet, how things stood with her) he was contriving some safe way to be first informed from her own mouth how he must behave himself, in case she thought fit to allow him the liberty of Visiting her, for the renewing their Acquaintance, so as to be out of danger of committing any Mistake in that respect. He knew 'twas in vain to think of effecting his purpose at that unseasonable time; and yet the earnest Longing he had to see her, would not suffer him to afford his Eyes the least wink of Sleep all the following Night: For now she seemed infinitely more Beautiful and more Charming than at first, when he found her sitting tired on the Road side near Enfield, weeping, and great with Child.  
His thus reflecting on things past, made him begin to Censure her for that ignominious Act, which to him she had owned herself guilty of, and must have rendered her Contemptible to all the World, had not her Reputation been salved up by his Industry, and Favour to her. And yet whilst he was thus blaming her, he could not forbear admiring her, as the most lovely Creature he had ever in all his Life time beheld: Which Admiration of her Person begat in him, at the same time, a more favourable Opinion of her Miscarriage; for he considered that Error to have been committed when she was but very young; that her Innocence had been betrayed by the subtlety and Violence of a lustful Man, who in strictness of Justice more deserved to have been Arraigned for a Ravisher, than she to have born the Infamy of the thing. And he was willing to believe, that the deep sense she had expressed of that sin, and her Detestation of the Fact, had made so full an Atonement for it, that in case she had lived with that Modesty and Reservedness which he hoped she had, he could not think but she must now be reckoned a most Virtuous Woman.  
The next Morning he got up betimes, and as he was beating his Brains for a Contrivance how he might come to talk with her, he remembered that his Milliner's Shop was very near the Lady's Lodgings; to which he went, and by the Industry of the Millener's Wife, found means to have a Billet converyed thither, and delivered into Mrs. Fisher's Hand.  
The Charming Widow, who had not only a great sense of Her Obligations to Mr. Cooper, but had likewise a grateful desire of acknowledging them to himself, was as much pleased at the Proposal of this Meeting, as he could possibly be that made it. But because her Aunt had taken so great a liking to her for her plèasant Company, and her prudent Behaviour on all occasions, that she began to call her Daughter, and had often declared, that if the young Woman made choice of a second Husband with her Friend's Approbation, she would add considerably to her Fortune; Therefore was Mrs. Fisher cautious of giving her any Offence, or raising a suspicion in her, that she entertained a Correspondence with any Person, of whom she gave her not a fair Account beforehand. So she was glad to make a Pretence of going out to buy Gloves, Ribbons, or some such knacks at the Milliners, by which she got an opportunity to see her Friend, who stayed waiting for her alone in the Parlour.  
Although this Assignation had been thus fairly made by Consent of both Parties, yet was their Meeting the most surprising imaginable, for neither one nor the other had at first any power to speak; He for the Joy he had to see her, tho' he could hardly persuade himself that she was the same Person, being so much altered to her greater Advantage; and She for the shame she had to think of the disgraceful Condition wherein he first found her, and from which he had so sucessfully relieved her. And this Thought made such an Impression in her Mind▪ as had like to have cost her a second fainting Fit. But she striving to recollect her Spirits, was beginning to make an Apology for her Ingratitude, in neglecting to return her due thanks for all his Favours; calling him the most generous of Men, and her good Angel. But Mr. Cooper quickly interrupted her, to tell her how much he was rejoiced to see her again, whom he had not, by her own positive Commands, the liberty to Write to, much less to have endeavoured to visit, left any Discovery should have been made of their Entrigue, to her Prejudice.  
When their first Trasports of Joy were over, with some Inquiries made of each others Condition, since the time of his leaving her in Cambridge shire; he was glad to find her Credit had been so well supported by his Industry; and to hear she had remained unmarried ever since the Report of her supposed Husband's pretended Death. He also let her know, that he still continued a Bachelor; but did not acquaint her, that he, not long before had received an unkind Ba●k from a fine young Woman, whom he had Courted above two Years; and that when they were just at the point of Consummating their Happiness together by Marriage; she had most unfaithfully discarded him, for the sake of being a Lady; and the hopes of bearing Rule over her Husband; for she expected to be linked in Matrimony with a Rich, but very foolish knight, who it seems recanting his Bargain, threw her off at the very Church Door, and served her (if possibly it could be) a more disgraceful Trick, than she had done her Merchant.  
It had been a hard matter for Mr. Cooper to master the violent Anger he had conceved against all Womankind, so as ever to have a favourable Opinion of them, after such ill treatment meant from that Mistress; had it not been purely out of spite and Revenge to her, who was now striving again with all the Arts and subtle Delusions she could possibly invent, to retrieve the lost Affections of her slighted Lover. It was, I say, the resentment of this gross Affront, had carried him on purpose to that Ball, to try if there he could espy out amongst those Ladies, a more worthy Object for his Love; and by admitting a New Flame into his Breast, extinguish the old.  
Our admired Widow chanced to be the happy she on whom he fixed his Eyes and Affections. 'Twas her Charming Face and modest Look, that represented to him a thousand more Beauties and taking Graces, than he remembered ever to have seen in his Unconstant and Faithless Mistress: And so great a Conquest had this made of his Heart, almost before he could call her to his Remembrance, that now it was not in his Power, if he would have endeavoured it, to shake off her Yoke, and to regain his Liberty.  
He had had, 'tis true, some Conflict in his Breast, that very Morning, when he was remembering, how Reproachful a thing it would be for him, who was a Gentleman of a good Family, and a Merchant; should he Marry one, who had acknowledged herself a Strumpet, and whose Beauty and Education, was all the Portion she was like to have: But on the other hand, he considered, that her Dishonour was scarcely known, but to himself; that her lovely Person and singular Qualifications, if she had kept up to those Virtuous Resolutions, which she had solemnly made, were a sufficient Dower for such a one as himself, who by his Industry had already acquired an Estate sufficient to make him live very happily in the World.  
On this manner was he able, or at least willing, to solve all the Arguments that his more serious Fancy, or his Doubts could any way raise against her; that now there only remained this difficulty, which was, how to obtain her for his own; and how to be satisfied in the first place of the Fears and Apprehensions he had, lest she should be pre-engaged to some other Person, and so all his Hopes of winning her, by any Interest or Merit, which he could pretend to for his former Services, be frustrated. Such Thoughts as these did so far embolden our Lover, that after some little further Scrutiny, into the Widow's Affairs, of which he received an Account to his full Liking; he could no longer forbear declaring his Love to her, which he did with so much fervency and Passion, that the Lady could not doubt but that it was real.  
She had already sufficient Experience of his Ingenuity and his Uparallelled Generosity, to create in her a high Esteem of him for his admirable Temper of Mind; and as for his Person, he might well be reckoned in the Eyes of an Impartial Judge, a very desirable Man for a Husband: For his stature being Middle sized, his shape well proportioned, in most exact Symmetry, and the airy Briskness of his Face and Mien, rendered him amongst the City Ladies, as Eminent in his Sex, as she for her Beauty and rare Accomplishments, was in hers. And besides all this, his Genius inclining him to thestudy of Painting and Music; he, during his Factorship in Italy, while others of his Companions spent their vacant Hours from Business in Drinking and Debauchery, took the opportunity to Employ his in the Practice of these two Ingenious Arts; wherein, with the assistance of the greatest Masters that the City of Florence afforded of both, he became no mean Proficient on the Lute, and a most exquisite Artist at Painting in Mignature.  
Althô nothing could have been more acceptable to the fair Widow than this Addess of Mr. Cooper's, for he was the only Person, that for a Husband she could have wished for; yet she received his Courtship with a Coldness, and seeming distrust of all he said; and told him, that he had made choice of an improper Subject to divert himself with; for when she looked back on her past Miscarriage, which had rendered her despisable even to the meanest of Men, if her Infamy had been publicly known, she was too sensible that she must be far beneath his lowest Jests and Scorn: But as she had an abhorrence of that Fact, which had cost her so much Grief, and indeed ought rather to be charged on another than herself, and as she had also endeavoured to expiate her Crime by her sober and virtuous Deportment ever since, so she would always retain a Resolution to live without Scandal, all the remainder of her Life. And that since her Credit had been supported by his means, she could never take it unkindly at his Hands, if he to show the Gaiety of his Wit and Fancy should think fit, in Merriment, to make her the pretended Object of his Love. He would not suffer her to go on, but affirming that the Crime she mentioned was her Lords, who well merited the Punishment, though the Misfortune had fallen on her; and waving that Subject, strove with all his Rhetoric to persuade her, that his Courtship intended nothing less than what he suggested. Since all his future Endeavours, should be to render himself worthy the Honour he aimed at, which was to be accepted for her Husband.  
In such Discourses as these, the time slipped away insensibly, and her long stay being taken notice of by her Aunt, a Messenger was sent to call her home, which broke off their Entertainment for that bout: But not till a convenient time and proper place was agreed on, for the keeping up this Correspondence so fairly revived betwixt them.  
In short, after some few Meetings, and Conferences had by our two Lovers at their appointed Rendezvous, there was so good an understanding on both sides, of the matter in Debate, that nothing was now wanting to conclude their happy Union together in the Holy state of Matrimony, but the Consent of her Father, and of her Aunt the Lady D. This proved no great Obstacle; for the Doctor no sooner heard the high Character of Mr. Cooper his Daughter's Admirer, and had received a credible Account of his ample Estate and Fortune, as also of the frank Offer he proposed of making his Mistress a considerable Jointure, without insisting on any Portion, but he readily gave his free Consent to the Match. And after the Aunt was made acquainted with the thing, she having invited Mr. Cooper three or four times to her Lodgings, noted his Excellent Parts, and been extremely delighted with his pleasant Conversation, was so well satified both with the Man, and his generous offer, that she declared she would also show what value she had for her Goddaughter; and to promote the Match between two such deserving Persons, was resolved to give her on their Wedding-Day Two Thousand Pounds for a Portion, and to settle the greatest part of her remaining Estate, which was considerable, so as to fall to them after her own Death.  
'Tis not to be imagined but that Mr. Cooper, notwithstanding the Proposal which he so briskly made to his Mistress' Father and Aunt, had some Expectation of a Portion to be raised for her amongst them; but it was infinitely short of this; which made him press to have the Wedding solemnised with all possible speed, lest the Aunt's Bounty might any way be diverted or grow cold. And to set all Wheels the nimbler a going, in order to a quick dispatch, it was requisite to Oil the Lawyers in the Fist, who were to draw up the Writings, in which he was not at all tardy; and so soon as those Formalities of Signing and Sealing were finished, and the fine clothes ready against the appointed Day, they saw the good Old Doctor appear amongst them, who had made a Journey to London, on purpose to see the Gentleman, so much cried up for his rare Parts, who was on the Morrow to be his Son-in-Law, and to give them his Blessing. The Doctor often protested that he was very much rejoiced to find in him so great a resemblance of that worthy Man Mr. Fisher his Daughter's first Husband, whose Person and Qualifications he highly extolled: But neither the Doctor, his Lady, nor the kind Aunt had ever any knowledge of the generous Impostor put on them by Mr. Cooper.  
Well, the wished for Morning being come, the Solemnities of the Church were to be attended, which joined our happy Lovers Hands, as their Hearts had been before, and no sooner had the Parson done his part, but the good Old Lady performed hers, in delivering them a Note for two Thousand Pounds to be paid at sight, which was immediately accepted by her Goldswith, who was there a Guest: And the Doctor ordered the same Person to make a handsome set of Dressing-plate to the value of two Hundred Pounds, to be presented to the Bride. And he made his Excuse to his Son and Daughter, for the smallness of his Present, but he let them know, that he would take care for the good Education of his little Son Fisher, and had already also improved for him, the two Hundred Broad Pieces, left by his Deceased Father.  
Don Feliz had a great Applause from his Mistress for relating so pleasant a Novel, who Confessed she was extremely delighted with it, and did not much disprove the Intrigue; but desired him seriously to tell her, whether the Tale or chief substance of it, were true or no; for she doubted not, she said, but it received much of its Beauty from him. He was pleased to hear her commend it, and assured her that the Story had so much of Truth contained in it, that he could scarce allow it to be called a Novel, since the two chief Persons therein mentioned, were then in Being, and lived happily at that very time; having had several fine Children together; and he affirmed that he had often heard Mr. Cooper play with great Mastery on the Lute; had seen divers of his Excellent Limnings; and that he had this Story from a great Confident of Mr. Cooper's, under these borrowed Names. But Don Feliz cknowledged, that he had striven to set it off with the best Ornament he was able, and yet it very much needed her Excuse for his imperfect telling it.  
With all the pleasantest Chat they could invent, and such like Tales, our two Lovers Don Feliz and his Mistress, passed away their spare Hours: And once she was very pressing to know whether his intentions, at his return home into England, were to Marry, or to live at Rovers, as she found by him he had hitherto done: For she fancied, that after he had had so many Mistresses, he could hardly be at last confined within such narrow Limits, by a Marriage Knot, as would tie him for ever to a Wife. To which he replied, that not having yet considered the Point, he could give her no direct Answer. This he said, not knowing whether she were Married or no; for he never yet durst ask her the Question, fearing to incur her Displeasure for his being inquisitive after that, which he thought she had no mind to discover. But she noting his Hesitation, was the more pressing to be satisfied in her Demand.  
Madam, said he, seeing himself obliged to answer, I am seldom Master of my own Resolutions for any long time, and my return into England being so uncertain, I doubt I shall have great difficulty to keep till then in the same Mind I now am in; for I had formerly intended to have wedded myself only to my Books and Viols, but upon a more serious Debate with myself, I am convinced, that Marriage, as I have often been told, is a most honourable Estate, and the most proper means to reduce a Man to Sobriety, who has been Extravagant; and to make him live happily, without interruption to his Studies, and his Innocent Recreations. Therefore have I resolved when I shall get home, to strive in the first place to reform my Manners, become very sober, and then choose me a Wife with whom I may partake of all that Felicity which other Married Persons enjoy. I am glad, Don Feliz, replied his Mistress, to hear you have such an honourable Opinion of Matrimony; but I much doubt whether all those who have Experienced that state, will be ready to give the same Character of it which you do: And I would gladly know whence all this Current of Felicity is expected; is it from the good Conduct of the Lady, who shall be so happy to be your Wife? or rather from your own prudent Management? for I have very frequently heard you express your slight of our Sex, and am therefore afraid we shall lose the glory of it.  
The Life of Man, Said Don Feliz, may not unfitly be compared to Music; the delicate Harmony whereof is made by the Composition of several Sounds. For that mixture of grave Tones, with others more acute and small, makes the Music perfect, and so delightful as it is to our Ears. And this admired frame of Man's Body, when inflamed with a Fever, or shivering with Cold, shows that we are sick and out of order; but when those two Qualities are aptly united, the Body is well and at Ease, to our unspeakable pleasure. The same thing may be observed of a well-governed Commonwealth, which consists of different Orders of People: There the Nobility and Gentry in Agreement with the Plebaeans, make up the true Harmony which renders them all happy. And so Nature, the Mother of all things, framed Man to Wisdom, and to undertake weighty and serious Matters, which is plainly demonstrated by the grave deep Voice we Men speak with; whereas, on the contrary, Woman appears the true Portraiture of Humane Frailty and Folly; only designed to be employed in the most Childish and trifling of our Affairs in this World; and that small Voice of theirs which they always retain, hardly distinguishable from children's, gives us sufficient Evidence, that they still partake of children's Defects. But when one and the other happen to make a proper mixture, wherein Man's Wisdom governs their Folly, and that Childish Folly of theirs qualifies the Wisdom of Man; from thence proceeds that pleasant Life; from thence, I say, flows all that Current of Happiness. Which high pitch of Bliss cannot be fully attained, nor this Celestial Harmony be ever truly made, if Man and Woman be not solemnly joined together in Matrimony.  
Donna Faustina, laughing, told him, she saw he was very well pleased with the Subject, because he took such pains to display his Rhetoric on it: and yet at the same time could not forbear his usual Reflections on Women. But proceeded she, for all your acquaint Notions of Matrimony, unless the Air of England breath a much kinder influence on Married Persons, than this of Spain, 'tis ten to one but you will find some considerable difference between your Speculation and the real Practice of it; that your Celestial Harmony is often interrupted by some such Terrestrial Discord as shall make both your Hearts ache. They ran briskly on, and were so zealous to maintain their Arguments; he for Marriage, and she in dispraise of it, that they would have continued the Dispute till Break of Day, had not Fadrique scratched at the Door and put them in mind of parting.  
All the way Don Feliz went home, he could not forbear thinking of the Discovery he had made, by this Discourse with her; for he concluded from thence, that she must either be a Widow, or a Married Woman, and that her Husband was not, or had not been to her liking, which made her so mueh inveigh against Matrimony; and that this dislike had put her at first upon making him those Invitations to her House; and he was pleased with his own Wit, that had so industriously drawn this Secret from her. Another Night amongst the various Subjects of their Discourse, they happened on that of Religion; and she would then express a great concern for those of his Country, Ay que lastima, would she often say. Ah what a pity it is, that a People so richly endued with all the Gifts of Nature, should be so wilfully blind to be hurried away in a course of Heresy and Atheism, refusing to be made sensible of their Danger of Eternal Damnation, and to be brought back into the Pale of the true Church, which she believed was that of Rome. And she was full of those Say which the Priests teach them, to create in them an Abhorrence of the Herejes Yngleses, the English Heretics, as they term us: She would also tell him, that Y●galatierr● era tierra de Angeles, poro agora es tierra de Demonios', which is, that England was once a Land of Angels, (alluding, as I conceive, to the many Saxon Saints formerly Canonised here) but that 'tis now become a Country of Devils, meaning since the Reformation. But she took a particular pleasure in relating the strange Miracles wrought by our Saints of old, which she had read of in the Flos Sanctorum; to all which she gave as much Credit, as to those recorded in Holy Writ; and was often very angry with Don Feliz for endeavouring to rectify her Judgement in those matters, and for attempting to show her the Absurdity of their fabulous Legends.  
Then would she Celebrate the Praise of the Irish Nation, who, she said, had ever kept close to the Ancient Catholic Faith; she commended their diligent frequenting the Churches, and the Expressions of their Zeal and Devotion there; and she would hearty wish that the Eyes of the English were open to see their Error, and follow the Example of that Excellent People. Yet after all, she said, she could not but acknowledge, she had observed some of the Irish in Spain, not to be so acute of Wit and quick of Apprehension, as the Spaniards, nor other Countrymen residing amongst them, but were rather inclined to a strange Blundering and Stupidity, not common to other People; which made her curious to know if this proceeded from a general Defect, naturally incident to all born under their Clime, or else happened to such only as came over thither. Don Feliz assured her, that Ireland daily produced very accomplished Gentlemen, brave Soldiers, and Men excellent in all Faculties: But that it was there, as in all other parts of the World, that many for want of good Education, proved very Dull and Ignorant; and that he had observed no other distinction betwixt them and other Nations.  
Their dwelling a little longer on this Subject, brought to Don Feliz's Memory a Story, which falling pat to the purpose, and he knowing the Pleasure his Mistress took in hearing such, gave her a hint of it, which made the Lady press him to tell it. He obeyed, and began on this manner.   

The Unfortunate Colonel.  
AT the beginning of those dismal Turmoils in Ireland, which broke out about the beginning of September in the Year 1641 or 42, if I remember aright, when the Irish endeavoured to extirpate the English utterly out of that Kingdom; there was a Gentleman of an Ancient Family, and of an Estate of near 700 l. per An. engaged therein, whose name was OCa— He proved very active in that cruel Treatment of the English, expressing on all Occasions, his implacable Hatred to them; and being a Man of great Personal Valour, tho' his Conduct was never much admired, he was after some time, honoured with the Command of a Regiment. 'Tis not to my purpose, nor is it sit I should trouble you, Madam, with the particulars of that War; it will be sufficient to say, that the Irish being at last worsted in it, all the Estates of such Gentlemen as had been instrumental in kindling the Coals, or industrious in fomenting the Flame of that Fatal Combustion, were seized, and made forseit to the English. And amongst the rest was that of Colonel OC— which forced him from that time to Associate himself with the Tories, since called Raparees, and to change his fine Seat for a Hut in some Wood, or amongst the Bogs; for those are the common Retreats of such Outlaws, who subsist only by Spoil and Rapine. This was his manner of living till the Restoration of King Charles the Second; during all which time, his Company having been only such as were then termed Wild- Irish, Men altogether illiterate and rude; by their Conversation, our Colonel could acquire nothing of Ingenious Improvement, for the bettering his Manners or Understanding, but rather by his suiting himself to all their ill Customs, and Behaviour, he had degenerated into the lowest Degree of Clownish Barbarity.  
After that good King was quietly settled on his Throne in England, to the universal joy of his Subjects, and and had also taken due care for establishing the Peace and Tranquillity of his three Kingdoms; his Majesty had been pleased to bestow a considerable Post under his Deputy in Ireland, to a near Relation of our Colonels. Which News reaching his Ear; and being likewise made acquainted, that a Court of Claims was Erected there, wherein such as could purge themselves of the Imputation of those Cruelties practised on the English Protestants, in the horrid Massacre of them, and could make their Innocence appear, that they had not bathed their Hands in English Blood, should have their Estates restored. He never considering the palpable Gild he lay under, resolved on a Journey to Court, hoping by favour of his Kinsman to be repossessed of his forfeited Estate. So mounting his Courser which was another Rosinante, to Dublin he posts, there alighting at the first Inn he came to, and being confirmed in the Account of his Kinsman's greatness, he prepared that very Morning of his Arrival to wait on him. In order to this visit, he thought it necessary to spruce up himself as well as he could, his Garb being then none of the most Modish; for he was equipped in his ordinary Plad, which had served him in his Function of Robbing, a narrow-brimed Hat with a High Steeple-Crown, a pair of Pumps, with a long jingling Spur on his Right Heel, to show he was just come off a Journey, and being a tall lusty Man, had a huge Baskethilted Sword fixed in a broad Girdle to his side, somewhat after the Spanish Mode. He than goes to a Barber's for a touch of his polishing Hand, ordering him to come and powder his Hair, and to prune his Head, which he affected to wear extraordinarily long.  
Whilst the Barber was at his Business, our Colonel acquainted him with the visit he was about to make, and asked him many Questions concerning his Cousin; which Partly gave the Barber Encouragement to find fault with the shaggedness of his Short Hair, and unfashionableness of his long Beard▪ for a Man of his Age, who owned himself scarce turned of Fifty; assuring him that at Court, to which the Colonel was going, it was the general custom to have their Beards shaved off Clean, and if their Hair were not very graceful, to have that also cut off, and to wear a Perry-Wigg. Though the colonel's stock of Money were but small, yet was he willing to appear a Man of Mode; he therefore, after some difficulty, was persuaded to part with both his Beard and Hair, and in a new great blustering Wig, which there cost him fifteen Shillings, towards the Court he marches, attended by his kind Friend the Barber▪ who had undertaken to steer him to his Kinsman's House, near the Castle. As they walked the Streets, our Colonel admiring the fine Accomplishments of his Conductor, and quaintness of his Speech, thought him a fit Person to advise with about his Behaviour amongst the Courtiers. The Barber generously condescended to instruct him in all the necessary Punctilios to be observed there, which was taken for a particular Favour, and when he had pointed him to the House, he left him.  
'Twas just turned of Twelve a Clock when the Colonel advancing to the Gate, enquired if his Coshen were within? The Porter laughing, demanded who was his Coshen? Thy Master, said the Colonel, Sir G. L. is my Coshen, and I am come to Dine with him. No, Sir, answered the Porter, my Master is gone up into the Castle, and will not return till past one a Clock, his usual Dining time: But my Lady is within. Then prithee Joy▪ proceeded the Colonel, tell thy Lady that here is her Coshen Colonel OC▪ come to see her. The Porter supposing him some Person of better Condition than he appeared to be, by his preposterous outside, prayed his Lady's Page, who then happened to be present, to show the Gentleman into the Dining Room. The Page waited on him up stairs, and leaving him in the Room, went to acquaint his Lady.  
Our Colonel who had a keen Appetite, having reserved his Stomach for a good Dinner, was glad to see the Table so well prepared for it. And as he was admiring the fine. Tapestry Hang and other Curiosities there, he espied a very great Looking-glass towards the upper part of the Room, which made him desirous to know how his new Dress became him; and walking up close to it, saw himself so strangely Transformed, that he could scarcely believe it was his own Face he was staring at. For now instead of his short grisled Locks and Tufts on his Crown, intermixed with Baldness, he beheld his Head with a huge Covering, or rather Thatch of Black Hair, which being unskilfully Composed, stood strutting out near a Foot on each side his Face, and instead of his long matted Beard, reaching almost to his Waste, he found his Chin deprived of that which he thought to be its greatest Ornament. The Sight was so very surprising, that lifting up his Hands hastily to express his Amazement, and not falling into Account, that though the lower part of the Looking-Glass was supported by Brass Hooks close to the Wall, the uppermost part thereof was hung inclining forwards; he, in the raising, as I said, of his heavy Fists, hit his Knuckles with that Violence against it, that down fell the Glass shattered all to pieces on the Floor.  
You may easily imagine, Madam, what trouble our Colonel was in at this Accident, who not knowing which way to excuse it, was going Backwards to remove as far as he could from thence, hoping by that means he might not be suspected for the Person that had done it; but not turning to see the Course he steered, he fell suddenly back into an armed Chair, from whence at the same instant, he heard a great crackling Noise, and feeling somewhat break under him, he started up, and found it to be a curious Instrument of Music, made of Ebony and Ivory, or at least the Ruins of ●ne; being the Lady L's, Guittar, squeezed by him to bits.  
This second Misfortune added much to his Disorder, and as he was looking with Amazement on one and the other; the opening a Door at the further end of the Room, obliged him to turn that way, where he perceived the good Lady, who being dressed very gay for reception of some great Persons, and Ladies of Quality which were to dine that Day with her, was, upon the Page's notice, coming in to entertain this Stranger her Kinsman. He, in the Confusion he was in, went to meet and salute her, as he remembered the Barber had directed him, which he performed in such an awkward manner, not being accustomed to those Ceremonies, that with the rude shock of his Face against the Lady's, he made the Blood fly out at her Nose; and in the drawing back of his Head, finding his blustering Wig to be stopped, which was engaged in the Lady's Head-dress, either by some of her Pins, or her Bodkin, he to secure his Wig, pulled it so hard, that he tore down her Hair, Ribbons, and all her Headgear about her Ears.  
When he saw how roughly he had treated the Fine Lady, his Cousin, he was going to make an humble Congee, and to beg her Pardon for it; but his Scrape was fetched with such a swing of his Leg, as endangered the throwing himself down on his Nose; and the great Spur by his ungainly Motion, catching in the Lady's rich Venetian Petticoat, not only made a great Triangular Rent in it, but with the sudden Jerk, was like to have tripped up her Heels, had not the Silk given way by being torn. As the Colonel stooped suddenly to disengage his Spur, he heard a loud Outcry behind him, and turning, saw Sir G's Daughter, a little Lady of about Seven or Eight Years Old, with her Face all covered with Blood. She was but just come into the Room, and standing at the colonel's Back, more intent on his Extravagant Behaviour than her own safety, had received a dangerous Cut on the Forehead, by his reaching to separate his Spur from the Petticoat; For as he stooped, his Elbow happening to press down the great Hilt of his long Sword, had suddenly raised up its Point, from which in his Journey he had lost the Chape, and that hitting the Child's Forehead, had done her the Mischief.  
We may easily conclude, that the Colonel must needs be more than a little sensible of all this Series of Mischiefs he had done, which were not possible to be repaired by any Apology he could make: He therefore began to think of a timely Retreat, and looking over one of his Shoulders towards the Door, was sliding backwards that way, but so full of Confusion, he never minded, that on his other Hand he was rubbing against the Side-board of Plate and Glasses, prepared for Dinner, which being only a Spanish Table, and lose in the Joints, was easily overthrown.  
This fall of the Table with a terrible Clatter, though he was scarce sensible what it was, so affrighted the Colonel, that out at the Door he flew, with a half turn, and with such Precipitation, that though he saw himself at the Stare-head, it was impossible to hinder his pitching down Headlong, and with so much Violence, as must certainly have broke his Neck, had not my Lady's Woman, who was then coming up with a fine Pyramid of Sweetmeats, given him some little Impediment in his Tumble, but full fore against her will, for she and her Desert were overturned by him, with no small Damage to both: And yet this could not prevent his rolling to the Stair-foot, where, as the Devil would have it, lay the great Mastiff, who angry to be thus disturbed from his Natural rest by all that hurly burly, fell upon the Colonel, but he getting nimbly up, so bravely with his Fists and Feet, encountered his Adversary, as obliged him, after some time, to give ground.  
In this Skirmish, tho' our Man of War seemed to have had the better on't, he lost both his Hat and Wig, and that of the two which lay nearest to him, being his Hat, he, without much Difficulty, recovered it, but then finding it must cost him a second Combat with the Dog to regain his Periwig; and hearing a doleful Cry of the Gentlewoman upon the Stairs, of Oh Lord he has Murdered me, the Colonel began to apprehend, and not without Reason, that the whole Family would soon Arm and fall upon him, to revenge the dismal Havoc he had made, he thought it best rather to quit the Field, and leave the Spoil to his Enemy, than hazard another Engagement; he therefore clapping on his Hat, ran strait to the Gate where the Porter was standing, who seeing him come in all that haste and Disorder, would have stopped his Passage; but the Colonel without Interruption to his Career, giving him one sound Bang on the Pate with his heavy Fist, left his Opponent sprawling on the ground, and made neither stop nor stay till he got to his Inn. There quickly mounting his Pegasus, away he flew by the speediest Journeys he could make to his Comrades, protesting he would rather lose a hundred Estates, than be forced to appear at Court, and there wait a long time with such abundance of Formality and Address, as he himself had some Experience of, but by his kind Friend the Barber, was more fully informed, that those Persons who expected to make any Friends there, were obliged to, and all the while must be in danger, as he thought, of falling into the like Misfortunes, as he had suffered that Day.  
Before Don Feliz could reach to the close of his Story, he was interrupted three or four times by Doña Faustina's violent Fits of laughing, which though she fain would have suppressed, yet were so loud that one of the Dueña's was forced at each time to come into the Chamber to advise them to be more hush and more moderate in their Mirth, unless they intended to alarm the whole House to their own Ruin. These sober Cautions, backed with Don Feliz's Entreaty, could scarce restrain the current of her Laughter▪ she was so transported with Pleasure at the hearing this Tale. But after she had better composed herself, and returned him Thanks for the great delight he had given her in his relating it: I will not, said she, be so rude, Don Feliz, to question the Truth of its particulars, though I cannot but admire at this long Concatination of Blunders and Misfortunes, that attended the poor Colonel, and I shall content myself with the Old Italian Saying. Se non è ver●, non è mal travato. If it be not true, yet 'tis not ill Composed. Don Feliz was beginning to make an Excuse for his ill wording, and his Hesitation in telling it, but she assured him, it needed no Apology, for she was extremely pleased with that Night's Entertainment, and to confirm what she had said, thrust into his Hand five Doblones at parting.  
At those times when Don Feliz returned from visiting his Mistress; by reason of the long stay he had made with her, which was commonly till two or three, and sometimes four a Clock in the Morning, he had a Custom not to rise till ten and often Eleven, which is their Dinner time, during the hot Season of the Year: But on other Mornings he risen early with his Brother, and with him would frequently divert himself, yet not with that Friendship and Intimacy as formerly he had done. For he would retire many times into some Room alone, to divert himself with his Instruments of Music; or to compose some little Poems, Epigrams, or other Fancies in the Spanish Tongue, to present to Doña, Faustina, who took great delight in reading them; or else he would walk abroad by himself into the Fields, on purpose to avoid Don Henrique his Scrutinies into his Night-Walks.  
On this occasion, he had one Morning got out betimes, and taken a pleasant Walk amongst the Gardens, that lie ranged along the Banks of the River Tagus, with no other Companion than his Book, on which he cast his Eyes as opportunity served; and in his return homeward, he observing the Caracol or Tour of Coaches not far from him in the Vega, directed his Couse that way, to divert himself also with the variety of curious Objects to be seen in them; for the Ladies there and Gentlemen, do often take the Benefit of the Morning Air, as well as of the Evening.  
He had not long feasted his Eyes with the Prospect of those Spanish Beauties, when to his no little Amazement, he espied amongst them a Face, which he had been more accustomed to view by Candle than by Daylight; and though quickly covered with a Veil, yet could not the small Glimpse he had of it, hinder him from knowing his Doña Faustina. The motion of the Coach one way, and his walking another, gave him reason to believe, that the Lady had miss seeing him. And the finding her in this splendour, at the chief end of a rich Coach, drawn by six good Mules well equipped; and attended by a Page and couple of Footmen in gentile Liveries, made him conclude her a Person of no mean Condition; and raised in him a more than ordinary Curiosity of knowing who she was; especially when, to be satisfied in it, he conceived it was no great matter of difficulty. For he took it for granted, that the Lady not being ware she had been seen by him, he might with safety enough, at her going out of the Ring, follow the Coach at a distance, amongst other Gentlemen also on foot, so as to observe into what part of the Town it went, and there might learn her Name and Quality. To this end he was drawing towards the Road that leads to the City, but at so lazy a rate, and making so many stops and pauses to look back, as might well give suspicion to any watchful Eye, that he could not be without a Design in his Head, on some Lady in one of those Coaches, and of giving her some private Signs for Assignation, which is very dangerous there, where even to be too curiously prying after any Women, is esteemed a high Crime.  
His patience was put to no great Trial in tarrying for her, for he presently saw the Coach leave the Rest, and make toward that Gate of the City to which he was going. As the Coach passed him, he seemed to take little notice of it, but then left his station, and carefully followed after it. And tho' he twice saw the Page, who had his Hand on the Coach Boot, after looking back, give the Coachman orders to drive on faster, yet was he so earnest to pursue his Intentions, as not to perceive he was observed, but mending his pace, he endeavoured still to keep up with them, till he heard the Page bid, Drive on a Gallop, which made him by this time sensible that he was taken notice of; for the Spaniards very rarely alter their poco a poco, their fair and softly, which is but a Foot pace.  
Don Feliz finding his Error, thought it highly necessary to change his Design; and that he might not be suspected of dogging her Coach, he took a different Path which led to another Gate of the Town; hoping by this Feinte, that the Lady might fancy his Pursuit had been only made by Accident, and not in contempt of her Commands. But when he had thought better on the Thing, it made him blame his own Folly and Dulness, which had hindered him from reftecting, that she must needs have perceived by his loitering there so near the Ring, and his often Eyeing the Coach, that his Drift was to attend her Motion homewards; and that she must have been told by her Page, who had often looked back, how nimbly the Flamenco, (for so they commonly call Strangers) had followed after her: For he now began to consider, when too late, with what searching Eyes, such as are jealous do pry into; and how nicely they weigh every little Circumstance, which they construe to their Prejudice.  
Such like apprehensions as these made him very uneasy the rest of the Morning, and on purpose stretch out his Walk longer than he had intended, that he might have the satisfaction of thinking on this matter at large by himself before he got home. All which served but to Augment his Trouble, and make him expect with no small fear, such another rattling Bout from the Lady, as he was forced to endure for his former Transgression. It likewise brought to his Memory, the great Danger he then was in, not only of losing her favour, but of feeling the effects of her Revenge for that Fault; as also the Difficulty he had to obtain his Pardon, and to reinstate himself in her good Graces as before. Then he set his Wits at work to study the best Excuses he could, for pacifying her Anger, in case she should admit of a Parley: But all his Invention could furnish him with no better a Plea in his own behalf, than stiffly to deny he had seen her there; and that his sudden hastening after the Coach, was but his immediate Consideration of the Sun's Heat, and of the Hour of the Day, which was then near Dinner time.  
Being come home, he▪ after a short Meal made against Stomach, went up Stairs, and threw himself upon his Bed, but could there take no rest, for vexing at the ill posture his Affairs stood in with his Mistress; For of this second Miscarriage, he had no body to throw the blame on but himself. His Brother took notice of all this disorder in him, and tho' he pressed to know his grievance, having occasion to Consult him about a Message sent them, in order to the dispatch of their grand Concern in that place, yet he found him in so peevish a Humour, that he saw it was to no purpose to mention it to him.  
In a little time after, Don Feliz perceived his Brother fallen into a sound sleep on the Bed by him, whilst he himself could not partake of that kind Benefit of Nature, to give some respite to the trouble of his Mind, that was perplexed also to think he should have so barren a Fancy, as was not able to bring himself off from so small an Embarasment. In which condition he lay musing till past two of the Clock, when he was alarmed at the Rattling of a second Stone thrown into the Room, as one some time before had been. At that very moment he was fully awake, though his Eyes were shut, and guessing what that noise imported, for he knew it must needs be another furious Message from his angry Lady, he started up and ran directly to the Window, hoping to have had a sight of the Hand that fling it in; but was deceived, for the Person whoever it was, had been too nimble for him, and was retired from his view.  
But looking afterwards for the Stone, he found it brought along with it a Billette, or little Note tied up, and directed as the former had been; which he was almost afraid to open; so much did he dread the Contents thereof: And seeing his Brother who had been disturbed at the sudden Noise of running to the Window, begin to rouse in order to get up, Don Feliz slipped the Note and Stone into his Pocket, and going down Stairs into the Dining-Room, he there trembling opened it, and read as follows.  
Don Feliz,  
You have now given a second Proof of your Admirable Conduct in the Affair of our Loves. How could you so rashly this Morning hazard your own safety and mine, only to gratify an unthoughtful Curiosity? Sure you forgot you were in Spain, where so many Eyes are open to observe, Tongues ready to proclaim, and Hands prepared to chastise such indiscreet Behaviour? This very Action being of such danger to us as it was, would in another Woman, have raised so high a flame of Rage, as would not have been extinguished, but with your Blood; or would at least have dissolved the Correspondence for ever. But you know that the Ascendant you have over me, will not give me leave to think of Revenge: And the entire Possession you have of my Heart, may satisfy you, that 'tis impossible for me, ever to remove you from thence. I can therefore only wish, I were able to invent stronger Reasons than yet I have done▪ to oblige you to be more advised for the Future. In the mean time I have been thinking of an Expedient which, if rightly pursued may I hope prevent the Insamy I daily incur by your Indiscretion: Which when you shall once be sensible of, I'm sure you will not disapprove. And because I would fain have you make some Atonement for your Fault, before it be worn out of Memory by a tedious Four and Twenty Hours Interval, pray fail not to make your appearance to Night at the usual Place and Time, and I shall send my Servants and Chair to meet you there. But of this be confident, that for any Offence Don Feliz has committed against one, who must own she loves him better than her own Life▪ he may expect to receive no greater Punishment, than what he will find in the Embraces of  
His entirely Affectionate Doña Faustina.  
It was no small satisfaction to Don Feliz to be thus cheaply delivered from the direful. Apprehensions he had conceived of his Mistress' Anger, and her Resentment of the Affront: For the least thing he could have expected before the reading her Letter, was the certain loss of her Favour, and perpetual Exclusion from her Presence. He read it over again and again, and after a strict Examination of every particular Sentence, he could not discover (besides a sharp reproof for his Fault) any thing in it which expressed not a most tender Affection toward him, and a great sweetness of Temper in herself, who could to easily pass by a Crime, voluntarily committed against her positive Commands; and he concluded he should be able at Night to pacify her fit of Chiding in as ample a manner, as he had once before done on the like occasion.  
Don Enrique, who knew nothing of what had so lately happened, was amazed to see his Brother come again with so great Briskness up stairs; and observed that now all those black Clouds of Discontent, which at his lying down to sleep, had hung upon his Brow, were totally dispelled. He could not but be curious to know the Reason of this sudden Change of Humour, and yet was unwilling to go about to pump it from his Friend, having already made many Attempts of that kind in vain; but he guessed it must needs proceed from some of those various Turns, and Whimsies which his Love-Intrigue daily afforded.  
The rest of that Afternoon was, by appointment of the Persons concerned, and the Consent of Don Enrique, to be spent in Treaty about their Business which had kept them so long in Toledo; and he was very well pleased to find his Comrade in so good a temper of Mind to assist at it. They took their Papers, went cheerfully together to the place where by Agreement they were to meet; and there after a long Conference, and many hot Disputes, with certain Spanish Gentlemen, to whom the matter had at last been referred, a happy Conclusion was made of the whole Affair; to the greater satisfaction of Don Enrique, than of Don Feliz, who could not but be very sorry to think that he must now leave his Mistress, after this new Reconciliation, which he looked on as already done in effect.  
When they were come back to their Lodgings, they had divers Discourses together, on what had then passed in that final Adjustment of their Business, and of the good End made thereof, after so long an Attendance on it: Making also their Remarks on the formal Gravity of the Spaniards, and their slow method of proceeding in all their Undertake. And now the next thing to be thought on, was to make their necessary Preparations for leaving that City, and for their return back to Madrid. This thing was long concerting, which made Don Feliz very uneasy, remembering his Assignation, and that it now drew near Ten a Clock. He therefore snatching up a Sword and Hangers which lay on the Table, and he supposed to be the same he commonly walked with, hooked it to his Girdle, as the Spanish Mode is, and after a short Excuse for his haste, nimbly tripped out of Doors.  
At the old Station he found Señor Fadrique waiting for him with the Chair, into which he entered with very little Ceremony, not to lose more time, having, as he perceived, a little slipped his Hour; but the Turks made haste, and quickly set him down within the Portal of the Lady's House. He was sufficiently acquainted with the Method of going up into the Room, which was always with great Silence and Circumspection, and therefore needed no Guide to conduct him thither. But as he was mounting the Back stairs, by which he was accustomed to go, he was not a little surprised to find his passage hindered by a stop Door on the middle of those winding stairs, which till then he had never known to be shut. To knock or scratch at it he durst not, for fear of making a disturbance, but he pushed hard, and found it fast locked or barred. He then stayed a good while, expecting some bodies coming to open it, but not hearing any one stir that way, he put again his Hand to the Door, intending to have thrust harder at it, but at the first touch the Door flew wide open, which somewhat increased his Wonder, and began to raise a suspicion in him, that there was some unfair play designed against him.  
These new Observations discouraged him not, but forwards he went, and as he entered the Room at one Door, he saw his Mistress coming in at the other to meet him, with her little Lap-Dogg running by her; which till that time she always used to bring in under one of her Arms. Her manner of accosting him too, was different from what it wont to be; for though she had ever at the first Entry, expressed a pleasure to see him, it was still accompanied with a becoming Gravity; but now instead of the violent Passion and Fury, which on the like occasion, she had formerly shown, and Don Feliz at this instant expected, she with a smiling Countenance and open Arms came up nimbly to him, and calling Ah Bellaco! Ah naughtly Man, why would you be so unkind to forget my repeated Orders to you? She clasped both her Arms about his shoulders, and charged him with such a volley of Kisses, and with so much fervency, as now raised his jealousy to a much higher Degree, than that Accident which occurred on the stairs had done: For he could not comprehend the meaning of this new manner of Salutation, not used by Women in that Country; nor could he guests whence all this superabundant Kindness should proceed. This made him turn his Head to mind the little Dog, which was fiercely barking at the Hanging, where, at the bottom of them, he might easily see the Feet of Men moving to come out.  
'Twas now no longer time to dally, for it plainly appeared there was a Design laid against his Life; he therefore putting forward his left Leg, and having his Arms about the Ladies Waste, he threw her across his Knee, with all the force he was able, against the Ground: And at the same moment stepping back, and clapping his Hand on his Sword, drew it at the first motion, and with it flying vigorously at the three Assassins', who by this time with their drawn Swords were slipped from behind the Hang, and advancing towards him, he charged the first of them with so home a Thrust, that he fell down, roaring out Boto a Christo que estoy muerto! Dam'me I'm killed! This brisk Charge and quick Execution, together with the lamentable Outcry of the two Persons, who seemed expiring on the Floar, so much daunted the remaining Assailants, whom he now discovered to be Señor Fadrique the Gentleman Usher▪ and one of the Chair-men, that they began to shrink towards the Bed side, but keeping still on their Guards.  
Don Feliz's Business in that place, was not to prosecute a Victory, as once he was about to have done, but to secure his own Life; wherefore observing their motion, and how concerned they were at the Noise made by the other Chairman, who lay wallowing in his own Blood; which had obliged the Lady, as we●l as she was able, to creep to him, and endeavour to stop his Mouth with her Hands, He resolved to take his Advantage of their Disorder, and make the best Retreat he could from the threatening Danger, before the whole Family, as he doubted they would, might Arm against him: For he expected they must needs be alarmed at all this disturbance. He therefore rushing by them, nimbly slipped out at the Door, and as he was shutting it after him, espying the Key left by chance on the out side, he locked it, and was running down stairs; but there met with another Obstacle; he found the Stop-door so fast shut again, that he could by no Art nor pulling, open it. This put him to his Wit's end, for he had no time to deliberate what was best to be done; but fearing the Enemy might rally, and Charge him in that disadvantageous Station beneath them, he was necessitated to run up again, to endeavour an Escape over the Tops of Houses.  
Being got up to the stairs Head, he saw a little Door, which he imagined might possible open into some Gutter or other Outlet for his purpose, and was stooping to creep through that way; but his Haste and wanting Light (being only what the Stars and a small glimmering of the Moon then yielded) would not allow him the Benefit, to see that his Passage within that Door had no Floar; for it being but a narrow place or Cock-loft next the Tiling, was of no use, neither had any thing to tread on, besides the Ceiling of the Chamber that was underneath it; and the Joyces by which that was sustained. These Joyces our flying Conqueror in his hasty Retreat miss, and happening to tread with all his weight upon the Plastering, it immediately gave way, and he broke through, falling down headlong into a Bedchamber, where a Gentleman sat reading at a Table, with his Sword lying by him.  
The studious Gentleman being disturbed at this amazing Accident, seeing a Man come Armed by such an unusual In-lett, with a Design as might be supposed to attack him; threw aside his Book, snatched up his Sword, which he drew, and was preparing for the Encounter. But just as Don Feliz had got up, was bustling to recover himself after his Fall, and putting himself into a posture to receive the Charge, he was the most astonished Man of the World, to discover that the Assailant whom he was going to Engage, was his Friend and Comrade Don Enrique; and that the Room in which they were, was their own Lodging. He then called out Hold, Hold, Brother. By which words, (for he was covered with the Dust of the broken Ceiling) the Mistake was perceived on both sides, and they knowing one the other, it put an end to their furious Intentions.  
Now if Don Enrique were surprised to see his Friend brought home into the Chamber, by such a strange piece of Conjuration; Don Feliz was no less amazed to find himself there, when he imagined at that time he had been at the remotest part of the City from thence. Yet thus it was, and the Thing appearing so very strange, Don Enrique could not forbear an immediate Enquiry, to be satisfied of the Mystery thereof; but was entreated by Don Feliz to respite his Curiosity, till a fit time of Discoursing it, because he was then, he said, as he had reason to believe, pursued for his Life, and knew not but his Adversaries might probably fire down some Gun or Pistol into the Room upon them. It was therefore, after a short Consultation, thought necessary, they should immediately remove out of that Lodging. So down stairs they went, and found their Landlord; for he being disturbed at the rattling Noise he had heard from above, was getting out of Bed, and coming up to inquire what was the matter.  
They acquainted him, as briefly as they could, with their Resolution, and with as much of the occasion of it, as was convenient at that juncture. To which the Landlord, without Scruple, readily consented, and offered to get them a new Lodging to their Desire. He had indeed been ever ready to show the great Respect and Esteem he had for such generous Guests, as they had always been to him; and more especially at this time he was willing they should see his Diligence and his Zeal to serve them; for he had got some hint, that their Business being now finished, their stay could be but very few Days longer in Town. His offer was kindly accepted, and whilst he went up stairs to fetch their Maletas or Portmantles, and to view the Breach in his Ceiling; his two Guests went down and had unlocked the Door, but as they were just stepping into the Street, they found they were strongly pushed at by two Persons, who had on each side of the Door planted themselves, thinking to have stabbed them at their coming forth.  
The Precaution therefore which Don Feliz had given, of marching out very circumspectly, and with their drawn Swords in their Hands, to prevent the Mischief of such an Attack, proved very lucky to them; for their readiness to defend themselves, and brisk answer of the Enemy's Charge, did not only secure them from this second Treachery but did so much discourage the Undertakers of it, that they were easily forced by the two Friends to scour nimbly off▪ and seek for Refuge in the Portal of a great House adjoining to their Lodgings.  
In this last Skirmish the Assassins' were found to be the same unhurt Chairman, who had been left above; and his Companion was Old Fadrique, whose bustling had now discovered him to be a young Man, by the letting fall of his long Artificial Beard. Which two Valentones or Bravoes had, as it seemed, engaged to their Lady to Execute that in the Street, which they had failed to do in her Chamber, but were glad to betake themselves to their Heels for their own safety.  
When their Landlord, who came Laden with their Goods▪ had overtaken his two Guests, and had Conducted them safe to his Friend's House, which was far enough off, in another part of the City; they made Enquiry of him, concerning his Neighbours dwelling in that House, next to his, and were satisfied by him in so many particulars, as that by the help thereof, they were able to unriddle the whole Mystery of that Intrigue.  
They found that the Lady who called herself Doña Faustina, was Wife of Don Pedro de Solana, a rich Knight of the Order of St. jago, who was turned of Threescore Years of Age, and was Master of the great House, as he also was Owner of that lesser wherein they lodged, which he let to Fancisco de Ayala their Landlord. They were told that Don Pedro and his Lady had been Married together above six Years, and she never with Child in all that time. They were satisfied that she must have taken an opportunity of looking down when she would, through a Peephole into their Bedchamber (which Hole by them had but lately been Discovered) from whence she could hear and see every thing they said and did there; and they guessed she might have been invited to that Curiosity by Don Feliz's Music, of which she would often talk. They also concluded, that the Letters which seemed to have been thrown in at the Window, were only dropped down through the same Hole in the Ceiling. It likewise plainly appeared, that the Contrivance of carrying him about so far in the close Chair, was but to amuse him, that he should not be able to find out her Lodging. And they conjectured that this Design of Assassinating him, did not altogether result from her Desire to revenge the Affront of his disobeying her Commands, and his unadvised Curiosity in endeavouring to find out who she was: But partly too, because she having got Intelligence by her watching at the Peephole, that those two English Gentlemen had dispatched their whole Affair in Toledo, and were speedily to return to Madrid; that therefore since she must now lose her Gallant's Conversation for ever, she would suffer no other Woman, to whom he might possibly speak with Scorn of the Favours of his Mistress Doña Faustina, to have the future Enjoyment of him.  
But they could not imagine what reason she could have, to contrive his Murder in her own House, rather than in the street as they carried him in the Chair; or in some By-Corner, Alley, or other private Hole; unless it should be, that she thought in those Places, the Act might be more liable to a Discovery; or because she herself had a mind to see the Bloody Execution more effectually performed. And upon a further scanning of her last ambiguous Letter to him, they admired how Don Feliz could have been so blind, as not to see, that at the close of it, she in cunning Terms discovered how she intended to deal with him, which was to hold him in her Arms, while her Servants should Murder him. It was also then argued, how it was possible for Don Feliz, not to recollect, that he must have often seen waiting at the next door, his Mistress' Coach, and the Lyveries which she had that Morning attending her in the Ring: But to this he protested, his Thoughts were so fixed on the Lady, and his surprise was so great at that Moment, that he took very little notice of the Coach or Servants; which at another time he might have easily known.  
After these Remarks thus made, Don Enrique took occasion to Discourse the matter at large with his Brother, and strove to make him sensible of the Wicked and Extravagant life he had led in that Town, which had plunged him into so much Mischief, as was the Murder of a Man, and the exposing himself to so many imminent Dangers of losing his own Life, and of ruining his Friend; being commonly the sad effects of such ill Courses. To all which Don Feliz soberly attended, having very little to say, in any respect, for his own justification. And after finishing this grave Lecture of Morality, it was observed that they had by some Mistake made a change of Swords; for Don Feliz, at his hasty going out to obey his Mistresses treacherous Summons, had, instead of his own, snatched up his Brother's that had an open Scabbard, with proper Tiros or Hangers belonging to it. This made him call to mind the benefit he had had by that lucky Mistake, who might else have been killed before he could have drawn his own Sword, which for its length being of the Spanish Marco, or Standard, with an ordinary close Scabbard, could not have been done, but at two or three Motions.  
They made but two Days longer stay in Toledo, during which time they thought it not convenient to show themselves too publicly, lest they might be found by some others of the revengeful Lady's Agents to their further Prejudice, and because they could not yet get Intelligence how it fared with the Chairman; whether he were alive or Dead. But at their Departure for Madrid, they were assured by their Landlord, that the Lady was pretty well recovered of the terrible Fall her kind Lover had given her; and that the wounded Chairman was in a skilful Surgeon's Hands, with great Hopes of his Recovery. Which News was very welcome to Don Feliz, who had been more than a little inquisitive to know in what Condition they both were.  
Well, they now took leave of Toledo, and mounting a couple of good Mules, they, with their Muletteer, road jogging on together for Illescas, which they reached that Night, as they did Madrid the Day after; Don Feliz promising a thousand times, on the Road, to his Brother, never more to be drawn into such ill Courses so long as he lived; but whether he may since have justly complied with those Promises or no, I must leave it to his own Conscience to be the Judge. I confess, I am apt to believe the best of him, for he was frequently observed to repeat these Italian Verses.  
Cortigiana che ti string,  
E le Braccie all collo cinge,  
Poco t'ama, e molto finge,  
E nel fin, t'abruga o tinge.  
FINIS.   

A Catalogue of BOOKS Sold by R. Bentley.  

1 Diogenes' Laertius, in 2 Vol. in English.  
The Art of Knowing one's self, in 8vo,  
Dr. Eachard's Works, 8vo.  
Queen's Closet.  
Aesop's Fables.  
Richlieu's Last Will and Testament, in 8vo.  
The Roman History, in 8vo. By Mr. Eachard.  
The Complete Statesman, in 8vo.  
Colbert's Last Will and Testament, in 8vo.  
Coesar's Commentaries in Folio, in English, with Cutts.  
Cyrus' the Great, a Play.  
Bonduca, a Tragedy.  
Lost Lover, a Comedy.  
Rival Sisters, a Tragedy, newly Reprinted.  
The Moor of Venice.  
The Soldier's Fortune.  
Anna Bullen.  
Philaster, or, Love lies a Bleeding.  
Caius Marius.  
Antony and Cleopatra.  
Destruction of jerusalem, in two Parts.  
Alexander the Great.  
Mythridates.   
FINIS.