THE Spanish Decameron: OR, TEN NOVELS.  
VIZ.  

The Rival Ladies.  
The Mistakes.  
The Generous Lover.  
The Libertine.  
The Virgin Captive.  
The Perfidious Mistress.  
The Metamorphosed Lover.  
The Impostor Out-Witted.  
The Amorous Miser.  
The Pretended Alchemist.   
Made English by R. L.  
Licenced, Febr. 17th. 1686. R. P.  
LONDON, Printed for Simon Neale, in Angel-Court, in St. Martin's-Lane, near the Church. 1687.   

THE PREFACE.  
THE Age is grown so Critical, now a-days, that a Book dares not appear without a Preface, or an Epistle to it; for fear of being Censured, which obliges me not to be singular. As to this Decameron of Novels; they are Spanish Relations, Written by a Famous Author of that Kingdom. One of the most Refined Wits of France, thought it worth his Pains, to render it into the Language of his Country, with all the Graces and Advantages it might derive from either; I have done it out of the Latter, with a Freedom of Alteration, and Addition, as my Fancy led me, to make it the most divertive I could in ours, which is the only Recommendation of things of this Nature. The Word Decameron is derived from the Greek; though the Learned Boccace thought fit to make use of it, in his Book of Tales; which he divides into ten Days, of whom Count Balthasar in his Preface to his Courtier, makes mention, and affirms, that his Work of Recreation (meaning his Decameron) brought him more Honour, than all those more Serious Pieces which he Composed. As to these Novels in the main, they are Concise, and carried on with much ease and freedom; whereby the Reader might be diverted, and not tired, and receive profitable Advice how to avoid those Dangers, and Inconveniences others have run themselves into. As to the Plots, and Contrivances of these Stories, in the Original they have been so well approved of, by many of our Modern, and most Ingenious Poets, insomuch, that many of their Plays have been built upon these Foundations. I have no more to satisfy the Reader in at the present, only, that the Englishing of them has been a Diversion to me, and I hope to others they will not be unpleasant.  
R. L.   

THE Rival Ladies A NOVEL.  
IN Spain, not far from Sevil, at a Town upon the Road, Commodious for the Reception of Travellers; a Stranger well mounted, without any Attendants, towards the Evening came to an Inn; who nimbly alighting from his Horse, betook himself to a Bench; where hastily opening his Breast, he soon gave Evident Demonstrations of a Fainting Fit; with which Surprise of Nature, his whole Body grew motionless: Whereupon, the Mistress of the House immediately ran for Water, and throwing some of it on his Face, in a short time brought him again to himself.  
The Stranger blushing to be seen in such disorder, desired presently to be showed his Lodging; and if it were possible, that he might have a Chamber to himself; the Mistress of the House told him she had but one Chamber empty, which had two Beds in it, and was the only Accommodation she 〈◊〉 left for the Entertainment of another ●…est.  
●…he Stranger replied, he would give ●…r any satisfaction, provided he might enjoy the Room to himself; thereupon the Landlady assured him, that none should disturb him; upon which the Stranger retiring to his Chamber, locked the Door fast after him; and to make the surer work, (by that which afterwards appeared) he had set two Chairs against it; scarce had he thus fortified his Chamber Door, but the Master, Mistress, the Ostler, and two of their Neighbours, being there by chance, laid their Heads together, (as if they had been so many Grave Counselors) and began to spend their Verdicts upon the Deportment of this new Guest; concluding, they never in their Lives saw a Fairer, or more Beautiful Young Gentleman; then examining his Age, they judged it to be Sixteen, or Seventeen: Much Prate they had about it; and more particularly, what might be the cause of his Fainting upon the Bench; but that being beyond their reach they rested contented, being rapt up with Admiration, and Wonder, at the rare Proportion and Comeliness of the Person.  
It was not long after, but another Stranger entered somewhat like the former, in Person, and no ways inferior for Beauty in Shape, and Features; insomuch, that the Mistress cried out, Heavens bless me! Are Angels come to Lodge here? How so, said the Stranger? Sir, (said she) I speak for no harm, only I am sorry I have never a Bed to Entertain you, therefore you need not give yourself that Trouble to alight; for I had but one Chamber vacant, wherein is two Beds, and a Gentleman has newly taken it up, and paid me for both already; he is minded to be private, seems to be Melancholy, and shuns Company; it is not for me, Sir, (who you know must please all Gentlemen) to be so rude, as to inquire into the Reason of it; he is a very comely Person, and such a Beauty ought not to be concealed, but that all the World should both see and admire it.  
Is he such a one as you proclaim him to be (replied the Gentleman?) Yes, Sir, (answered the Woman) and when you see him, you'll be of the same Opinion as I am: If it be so as you say (said he) though I sit up this Night, I am resolved to view this curious piece of Nature you so highly applaud; and presently alighting, gave order for his Supper, which was immediately got ready.  
Now, whilst he was at Supper, in comes a Catchpole of the Town, (as commonly they do in little Villages) and sits down by the Gentleman to keep him company; he did not forget to throw down three or four full Glasses of Wine, neither was he backward in tasting of his fare, with a very little entreaty; a Kindness which the Catchpole thought he had deserved to the full, by telling him a thousand idle Stories.  
Nor was the Master of the House lesle impertinent than the Catchpole; who having made an end of his other Affairs, comes and sets himself down, to make a third Man; he knew his Trade, and therefore, without a By your Leave, fell to tasting of the Gentleman's Wine very liberally: he did not spare to commend it; for after every Glass he took, he would wry his head, and then lay it on his left Shoulder, saying, This Wine (quoth he) would carry a Man into the Clouds, though he must not stay long there, lest he should have too much Water in it. Ever, and anon he praised his Guest, that had locked up himself, Relating, first, his Fainting, than his paying for two Beds, and how he would have nothing for Supper, discoursing of several other things, as the Richness of his Apparel, and all Accoutrements fit for a Gentleman, only he wondered he had not any Attendance.  
These Aggravations stirring up an eager desire in the new Guest to have a sight of him, he entreated the Innkeeper by one means or other, so to bring the business about, that he might get into the Chamber, and lie in the other Bed, promising him a good reward for his pains; but ●…hough the greediness of gain, had already wrought the effect upon the Inn-Keeper's Will, yet he found it was neither seasonable, by reason he had shut himself in, neither durst he wake him out of his Sleep: besides, he considered with himself that he was paid well for both the Beds al●…eady.  
But all these rubs, the Catchpole easily removed: For (said he) I will knock at ●…he Door, pretending to come from a Ju●…tice of the Peace, and that by the command of my Master, I had an Order to bring this Gentleman hither to Lodge, and finding one Bed empty, I should place him in it, and not suffer him to sit up all Night: Upon this, the Innkeeper was to complain of the great Injury done the Gentleman that had hired the Chamber, and that there was no reason in the World, why he should not freely enjoy what he had paid so well for before hand; whereupon the Catchpole was to use his Authority, and save the Innkeeper.  
This Plot of the Catchpole's was very well liked, and the Gentleman who had a longing Desire to see this rare Jewel that was locked up, gave the Catchpole a reward for his Contrivance, and presently puts his Plot in Execution: So that in Conclusion, the first Guest showing great Resentment, removed the Chairs, unlocked the Door to the supposed Justice; the second Guest, craved Pardon for the Disturbance he had given him, laid himself down in the spare Bed, the other returned him not so much as one Word in answer to his Compliment, much lesle would he suffer him to see his Face; for he had no sooner opened the Door, but he flew back to his Bed, and covered himself over Head and Ears, with his Face to the Wall; the other also betook him to his rest, hoping in the Morning he might satisfy his Curiosity.  
The Nights were of the tedious December Measure, and one would have thought the Coldness of the Wether, with the Weariness of their Journey might have enforced Travellers to pass them over without breaking their repose; but in regard, the first Guest knew neither what ease, or rest was, no Satisfaction could Sleep procure him.  
Presently after Midnight he began to sigh so grieviously, that with every sigh, he seemed to send his Soul of an Errand out of his Body; and so deeply were they fetched from the Heart, that though the second Guest were fast asleep, the Lamentations of his Chamber-fellow waked him. So that wondering at the throbs, wherewith he accompanied those sighs, he attentively set himself to listen to the passionate Murmurs of one that seemed to be in the greatest distress in the World.  
Nor could the other prevent his bursting forth into the following Lamentations. Of all others, I the most unfortunate! Whither does the irresistible force of thy Destiny hurry thee? Or what hope have I to get out of this intricate Labyrinth wherein I am. I wander up and down, young in Years, void of Council, and know not where will be the end of all my Toil? How light a value, O my Honour, have I set upon thee? How has my Love been ill requited! How have I trodden under Foot the Duty that I owed my Noble Parents! Faithless Don Manuel, ungrateful Man, where art thou? Whither, forgetful of me, art thou fled? Answer me, I conjure thee, for I direct my Discourse to thee alone; perform thy Vows to me, and relieve in this distress, her that has so many ways obliged thee.  
Having said this, the seeming Centleman was silent, manifesting by his sighs, that his Eyes were not sparing of their Tears, at the same time; all which the second Guest lay harkening, with a still and quiet Attention; Collecting by those Discourses, which he had heard, that without doubt it was a Woman, that uttered those sad Complaints, and bewailed her wretched Condition; which did but the more increase his Desire, to know who she was: So that he was thinking sometimes to call to her, and comfort her, being fully persuaded it was a Female; and doubtless he had done it, if at that very instant, he had not heard him rise, and opening the Chamber Door, call to the Master of the House to get ready his Nag; but the old Tost not having so much sorrow at his Heart, after he had suffered himself a good while to be called upon, made answer, It was but a little past Midnight, and he had more need sleep, and take his Rest; and moreover, that it was so exceeding dark, that it would be a great piece of indiscretion to put himself upon his Journey.  
This the sorrowful Stranger took to be good Advice, and having shut the Door, threw himself upon the Bed, sending forth withal, a most Terrible Sigh: All which the second Guest observing, resolved to speak, and offer him all the kindness that lay in his power, if he might be so happy as to know the Cause of his Sufferings.  
To this purpose (said he) Certainly, Sir, should not your Sighs and Words move me to Compassionate the Torments of your Mind, I might well think myself void of common Pity. The Compassion I resent of your Condition, and the Purpose I have to hazard my Life for your Redress, if it may merit any Requital, I beseech you (Sir) reject not my Friendship; for I will rather perish, than abandon your Relief, when once I understand the ground of your Trouble.  
If Sorrow had not bereft me of my Sense, (answered he that complained) I might very well have bethought myself, that I was not alone in this Lodging, and and so ought to have put a Bridle to my Tongue, and made a longer Truce with my Sighs; and therefore to punish a Memory that has so much failed me, and in a place where it so much imported me to be more careful, I will grant your Request; perhaps by renewing the sad Story of my Misfortunes, it may happen, that a fresh feeling of their Torments may put a Period to my Miserable Life.  
Sir, (than said she) you are to understand, that I who entered into this Lodging (as no doubt you have been informed) in Man's Apparel, am an Unfortunate Maid; at least, one that was so, not full eight days ago; but now have lost that Noble Name, by my own Unadvisedness, and by giving Credit to the well Composed, but Sergeant Words, of Faithless Man! My Name is Carola, my Country one of the Chiefest, and most Delightful parts of all Andaluzia; the Name I silence, because it doth not so much import you to know it, as it does me to Conceal it; my Parents are Noble, and more than meanly Rich, who had between them one Son, and one Daughter. My Brother who was to be the Comfort of their Old Age, and an Honour to their House, they sent to Salamanca to Study, and me they kept at home; where they bred me up with so much Circumspection, as best became their Virtue, and Nobleness; and I, without the least repining, was always Obedient, and Conformable to their Wills, till either my Happiness, being in the Wain, or, my Misfortune growing towards the full, betrayed my Duty.  
A Gentleman of great Extraction, and more Endowed with Riches than I was, presented himself to my Eyes: The first time I saw him I was not sensible of any thing else, save only a Complacency, and kind of satisfaction in having seen him; nor was it in me a thing so inexcusable, that I should be somewhat taken with a Sight so Charming; his Gentile Carriage, his Countenance, and Mien, rendered him the most accomplished of any; all which Perfections were much more heightened by his rare Discretion and Affability.  
But what does it avail me to praise my Enemy? Or, to go about, by way of Discourse, to descant upon this my unfortunate Success; or, (to say better) the beginning of my Folly: He saw me not once, but often from a Window that was over against mine. From thence, (as it seemed then to me) he darted his Soul into my Breast, by his Eyes and mine; with another kind of Content than at first: I took Pleasure in beholding him, and did even enforce me to believe that they were pure Truths, which I read in his Face, and Behaviour: His Eyes were the Intercessors, and Dictator's of Speech; his Speech the Interpreter of his Desire; and his Desire the Inflamer of mine. To these he added Promises, Oaths, Tears, Sighs, and all that a firm, and constant Lover could possibly do, to express the Integrity of his Affection, and the Sincerity of his Heart.  
As for me, Unhappy! Who had never purchased Experience at so dear a Rate before; every Word was of that force, that part of my Honour's Fort could not withstand his Charms. At length, upon a Serious, and Solemn Vow of Marriage, I set all my Retiredness by, and ushered in that Freedom which Love approves of, (my Parents unconsulted) never discovered any of my Folly, while Don Manuel's Page (for that's the Name of him that now disturbs my rest) brought me the unwelcome News of having lost his Master, when scarce had he taken possession of what he so much coveted, his Parents, nor any other person could imagine which way he took, or what was become of him.  
Now in what a Disconsolate Condition was I then left in? Let him speak that is able to pronounce it, for it is passed my skill ever to know more, save only to bewail and lament it. I tore my Hair as if that had been guilty of my Errors. I martyrized my Face, believing it had been the Occasion of all my Misery. I cursed my Fate, accused my too quick Determination, and the Tears which I shed were numberless. I silently complained on Heaven, then reasoned with my own thoughts, to see if I could discover any Path that might lead to my Relief. At last, the only Expedient I could find, was to Disguise myself in Man's Apparel, and go in search of this Defrauder of my Lawful and well grounded hopes; and so without any deeper Meditation, occasion offered me Accoutrements fit for my sorrowful Journey, and waiting my opportunity in an exceeding dark Night, made my Escape. Now, Sir, I design my Journey to Salamanca, in pursuit of this most Perfidious Man; for since my setting forth from my Father's House, I heard he is gone thither; all the care, and fear I have now upon my Spirits, is to keep myself undiscovered from any other Person, and that none of my Relations may pursue me and find me out.  
But should this Cloud of Fear vanish, another may soon appear greater than the former, and prove a Storm; for should I meet with my Brother who is in Salamanca, o! how his Wrath would boil into a Tempest, and nothing can appease him, or expiate my Crime; but this wretched Life, which at this time seems very burdensome; if he should with patience hear me pled Excuses, yet the least point of his Honour, will over-poise the Balance, and oversway the powerfullest Expressions I shall be able to utter.  
Nevertheless, I am resolved, (though I loose my Life in the pursuit) to follow this false Man, my Husband, for so I dare call him; he in point of Honour can't deny it, unless the perjured Wretch will renounce those holy Vows which Heaven was witness to, and deny that Ring of Diamonds which I joyfully received of him as a Matrimonial Pledge; the Posy of it is, Manuel is Carola's Husband, if I find him out I'll ask him mildly what moved him so quickly to leave me? But am fully purposed that if he disannuls his vowed Engagements to me, and denies me for his lawful Wife; Then shall this Dagger reach his perfidious Heart, and this Hand shall be the Executioner. I'll show myself as ready to take revenge, as I was facile in suffering him to wrong me; for that Noble Blood which my Parents gave me, rouses up my Spirits, and warms me with such a Courage, that they already promise me Satisfaction for my received abuse, or full revenge of my offered Disgrace.  
This (Noble Sir) is the true and unfortunate Story you so much desired to know, and which may sufficiently pled the excuse of those Sighs and Words that disturbed you of your rest: and now I beg of you (as you are a Gentleman) to assist a disconsolate Lady, or at least, to afford me your best advice, how I may avoid those dangers that seem to threaten me, and that my being found out may be prevented; and lastly, that which I so much desire may be obtained.  
He who had attentively harkened to the Story of the enamoured Carola, continued silent, and so long that she thought he had been asleep; and had heard nothing of what she had related; for her better satisfaction, she called to know if he were awake. Indeed Sir (said she) you may well Sleep in the midst of a Repetition of Miseries, tedious to your Ears, and truly sensible to none but them that feel them.  
I sleep not (dear Madam) replied the Gentleman, but rather am so far from it, and so sensible of your Misfortune, that I know not whether I may not be thought to have as deep a share in them as yourself, and what advice I am Master of, you may command; for assure yourself, I will assist you to the utmost of my Ability: Considering the Management of your Story, you have declared so rare an understanding, that methinks your own Judgement should not have been so easily misguided; for I perceive (Madam) your own Inclination more deceived you, than Don Manuel's persuasions; yet your few and tender years may be a sufficient Apology for your not having Experience in discerning the frauds of Men.  
My advice (Madam) at this time is only to be patient; and if you can to take your repose during this small remnant of Night, and to Morrow we will both contrive what course is best to be steered. Carola having expressed her thankfulness, ad●…ddrest herself to the rest, more out of ●…omplaisance to the Gentleman, than any ●…tisfaction to herself; but he that gave that ●…dvice to the Lady, could take no rest him●…lf, for he began to toss and tumble in the ●…ed, and fell to Sighing so loud, that Caro●… was obliged to make the same enquiry af●…er the cause of his Sighs, as he did after ●…er Lamentations; and in retaliation of his ●…indness, she uttered many Protestations to ●…rve him to her utmost power.  
To which the Gentleman replied, Sup●…ose (Madam) you are the occasion of my ●…isquiet, yet you are not the Person that ●…an relieve me; for were it so, I should ●…ot be sensible of any pain. Carola could ●…ot well understand whither these confused ●…xpressions tended, yet she suspected some ●…morous Passion had surprised him, and ●…hought within herself that she might be the ●…nstrument; concluding, that the Solitude ●…nd Darkness of the Room, and the Disco●…ery she had made of herself might be no ●…mall Incentives to kindle heat in youth●…ul Blood.  
Fearing the worst, she made herself rea●…y with all silence, and hast imaginable, ●…nd sat down upon her Bed expecting the ●…pproach of day, which within a while af●…er appeared. The Gentleman no sooner perceived day light at the Window, but leapt from his Bed, and called to Madam Carola, to get herself ready; assuring her that the Protestations he had made to her last Night, he would begin to put in Execution this Morning; and that he would never leave her, till she had obtained Don Manuel for her lawful Husband: Which if he refused, he would vindicate her Honour with the point of his Sword, and the longest Liver gain the Victory, and by this (Madam said he) you may know how deeply your Misfortunes have engaged me.  
Then opening the Windows, and the Chamber Door, which pleased Carola, who with a longing Expectation had a desire to see the Person whom she had held Discourse with all Night: But when she had viewed him, and knew him, than she wished it had never been Day, but that her Eyes had been closed up in perpetual Night; for he had scarce cast his Eyes upon her, but she presently perceived he was her Brother, whom she so much dreaded. At the first sight of him, she had almost lost her Eyes, and remained Speechless; the Colour in her Cheeks was fled away, and in the place of Roses appeared Paleness.  
But reassuming Courage from Fear, and Danger from Discretion, drawing out her Dagger, she took it by the Point, and addressed herself to her Brother upon her Knees, in these Words.  
Take this, Dear Brother, (said she) and give me the Punishment of that Folly which I have committed. Satisfy your Displeasure upon so great a Crime as mine is, for I can expect no Mercy to be extended towards me. I confess my Offence; and acknowledge my Gild; but would not that my Repentance should serve to excuse my Fault; only, I beseech you, that the Torment may be such, as may take away this Wretched Life, but not my Honour: For although I have forced it into apparent danger, by absenting from my Father's House; yet can it not escape a real Censure, should not the Punishment be secret.  
Her Brother looking wishfully upon her, seeing her in Tears, raised her from the ground; telling her, that since he could not find out a convenient Punishment answerable to her Folly, he would suspend it for the present: And moreover told her, he did believe Fortune had not as yet shut the Doors against all Remedy; and that he had rather choose to procure it by the best means, than to take Revenge of that Wrong and Affronted, which by her overmuch Credulity reflected upon his own, as well as her Honour.  
With these kind Expressions Carola began to recover her lost Spirits, her Colour returned to her Face, and her almost dead hopes were revived. Don Sebastian, (for so was her Brother called) forbore after that to Nominate any thing of her Disaster, knowing how harsh that Note would sound in her Ears; but did advice her to change her Name of Carola, to Carlos, concluding both to go to Salamanca, to find out Don Manuel: Carola referred herself wholly to her Brother, and the Business to his Management.  
Then calling for the Master of the House, they desired somewhat might be got ready for Breakfast, intending presently to be gone: But in the Interim of time enters a Gentleman Traveller into the Inn, who was instantly known by Don Sebastian. Carlos likewise knew him, but durst not come out of the Room, for fear of being discovered. Don Sebastian having embraced him, enquired what News was in those Parts from whence he came; he replied, that he came from the Port of Santa Maria, where he left four Galleys that were bound for Naples, and in one of them he saw a very good Friend of his Embarked; which was Don Manuel, the Son of Don Lopez. This News pleased Don Sebastian wondrous well, returning thanks to Fortune, that she had made so fine a Progress; after some Compliments the Gentleman took his leave.  
No sooner was the Stranger gone, but Don Sebastian and his Sister set forward for their Journey. Leaving those that were behind to descant upon 'em. As they Traveled together Don Sebastian acquainted his Sister with the News he had heard concerning Don Manuel, and that he thought it requisite with all speed, to hasten to Barcelona, where usually the Galleys which ●…re bound for Italy, or return for Spain, ride there a day or two, in one of which he did not question but to find Don Manuel. Carola was very well pleased at the News and thanked him for his good Advice.  
Don Sebastian, by the way picked up a Mule Driver, for a Guide to 'em, and told him he must have Patience, for his occasions pressed him to go to Barcelona, and for his time he would give him a good Reward; the Muliteer being a good Jolly Fellow, believed, that Don Sebastian was a Noble, Free Gentleman, made answer, that he would do him what Service he could, and go with him to the end of the World.  
Then Don Sebastian, like a Prudent Traveller, examined the Strength of his own, and his Sister's Stock; and finding it considerable, proceeded forward on their Journey; and at length reached within Nine Miles of Barcelona: There they had notice that a Gentleman of Quality who was going to Rome, stayed in Barcelona, expecting the Galleys. The News liked 'em so well, that they doubled their Speed, till entering into a little Wood, they espied a Man come running out of it, and looking behind him as one that had been scared out of his Wits. Don Sebastian riding up to him asked him, What fears put such Wings to his Feet? 'Tis time to run, (quo' the Fellow) for a Man that has no mind to be Robbed, or have his Throat Cut. For in short (said he) there is a Legion of Thiefs in that Wood, and therefore I advice you to consider before you go forward; for as the Man said by his Wooden Gods, I don't like 'em. Robbers at this time of day, Quoth the Muliteer, I don't love to hear of? Pox on 'em, they'll never consider my Mules will be hungry at Night.  
But as the Fellow had put them in a Fright, so he gave them some Consolation again, by telling the Muliteer they had done their business, and were newly gone; ●…aving Bound to the Trees no lesle than Thirty Passengers, Stripped even to their very Shirts; only they left one Man at liberty to unbind the rest, so soon as they had recovered a little Mountain, from whence they would give him a Signal to set the rest free. If this be so (replied the Muliteer) we may safely go on, there being no danger after a Robbery Committed.  
Then they resolved to advance, but they had not gone far, before they saw the People Robbed, and Bound, and the Fellow unbinding them as fast as he could, it was a strange Spectacle to behold, some stark naked, others covered with the Robbers tattered Rags, some weeping to see themselves Robbed, and Stripped of all; others laughing to see the strange Habits of their Fellow Sufferers; one was reckoning up what he had lost; another was bewailing his Great Grandfather's Seal-Ring, that had served his Family for many Descents; a third hoped they would drink his Health, or else, quo' he, they are a Company of ungrateful Rascals.  
In Conclusion, every one had their several Humours, though not without some Passion of Discontent. The whole Scene drew a Natural Pity from the two Brothers; but nothing was more worthy of their Compassion, than to see Bound to the Trunk of an Oak, a Youth about the Age of Sixteen Years, with a Shirt only on his Back, and a pair of Linen Breeches; but of so Fair, and Lovely a Countenance, that he moved all that beheld him, to pity. Carlos alighted to Unbind him, for which the Youth returned very Courteous, and Thankful Expressions, for the received kindness: Then Carlos desired the Muliteer to lend the Youth his Clo●…k, which he accordingly did; then Carlos asked him whence he came, and whither he was Travelling.  
The Youth answered he was of Andaluzia, which Don Sebastian, and Carlos knew to be but two Leagues distant from their own Habitation, he moreover told them, that he came from Sevil, and that his design was to go for Italy, to try his Fortune in the Exercise of Arms. He confessed he did not like his ill beginning, nor the rough usage of the Thiefs, for they had taken from him in Money, and clothes, a Sum not in every one's Pocket; yet however he would prosecute his Design, and not be discouraged at the first ill Success that befell him: The Discreet Language of the Youth. begat such a strange Affection in the two Brothers, that they hired the Muliteers own Beast for him, and in a short space arrived at Yqualada, where they learned, that the Galleys had put into Barcelona the day before; and that within two days they were to be gone, if foul Wether did not hinder 'em.  
This News made 'em rise early next Morning before Sun Rising, for little Sleep sufficed them. Now, as the two Brothers, and the Youth were sitting together, Carlos fixed his Eyes very wishly on his Face, and viewing him very narrowly, his Mind prompted him that the Youth must needs be of the Female Sex; then Don Sebastian asked him whose Son he was, the Youth made answer, he was the Son of Don Frederique de Monasco; Don Sebastian replied, he very well knew the Gentleman, but never heard that he had a Son: (by which he perceived, that he was loath to discover his Parents.) It is true, (answered the Youth) Don Frederique has no Sons, but Lorenzo his Brother has: Indeed (said Don Sebastian) you are under a Mistake, for he has never a Son, but one Daughter, who is reported to be the Fairest Virgin in all Andaluzia, though I never was so happy as to see her. What you say, Sir, is certainly true, (replied the Youth) Don Lorenzo has but one only Daughter, but not so Fair as Busy Fame reports her; and if I told you I was the Son of Don Frederique, it was only to be the higher in your Esteem.  
But ingenuously to confess, I am not the Son of Don Frederique, but of Don Lorenzo's Steward, my Name is Leonardo, at length grown up to these Years, and having given my Father some disgust, I resolved not to abide at home, but rather chose to try my Fortune in the Wars abroad, where I have heard of many of mean Birth, that have attained to high, and great Preferments: To all this Relation Carlos attentively listened, yet it still more and more confirmed the Suspicion he had entertained. Thereupon Carlos having given Don Sebastian notice of his intent, took the Youth aside into another Room, and there began to take him into a kind Examination.  
I could wish Senior Leonardo, it had been my happiness to have been owner of such Opportunities, wherein I might have served you so far, as at this time I might raise from you an Obligation not to deny me some Request, which will be a great satisfaction to me; however, though you should deny me, yet will I never cease the Friendship I now profess to you. I must confess I have a Jealousy, you are not what your Habit proclaims you to be, but of the other Sex, and your Beauty publishes you to be born of Noble Blood; if then that which I suspect be true, deal plainly with me, for by the Faith of a Gentleman, I'll die to serve you.  
With great attention, did this Youth harken to what Carlos said, and continued silent for a while; at last took hold of both his Hands, and bringing them with a kind force to his Lips, not only Kissed, but likewise Bathed 'em with his Tears. Carlos being surprised at this sudden Passion, could not forbear Weeping for Company. At length, after a short Prologue of Sighs, and Tears; Sir, said the Disconsolate Youth, I neither will, nor can deny, but that your Suspicion has been true; I am a Woman, and of all Women the most Unfortunate, that ever saw the Sun's bright Lustre: And since the Favours received, and the fair Offers you have made me, oblige me to Obedience, I shall declare to you my Name, and Family, if it may not be offensive to your Ears, to hear another's Misfortunes. The pain that I shall suffer, will be that they are yours (replied Carlos) but the Pleasure will be greater when you have eased your Mind, perhaps some Refreshments may flow from one Breast to another.  
What I told as to my Country was true, (said the Youth) but as to my Parents I made a Concealment. I am that unfortunate Daughter of Lorenzo, Don Frederique's Brother, who for her Beauty (as your Brother said) is so much praised and commended, though the mistake is easily discerned, in that little, or none at all, that poor Angelia is owner of.  
Now, Sir, two Leagues from the place of my Birth, lives a Noble Gentleman, that has a Son, named Don Manuel; who if Fame be not overlavish in his Praises as she has been in mine, is in the Rank of those Gentlemen, which deserve no mean Commendation. This Gentleman, and my Father took great delight in Hunting, and he frequently came and stayed at our House five or six days together. From this occasion, Fortune, or Love took their opportunity to throw me headlong from the Precipice of my Honour, to the bottom of his low Condition, wherein I now am; his Gentileness, and Discretion, Lineage, Beauty, and Wealth was such, that all the Happiness I did desire, was to obtain him for my Husband; many Hours, and Days were spent in Courtship, and after many Solicitations, having given me his Faith under the most binding, and Solemnest Oaths imaginable to Mary me, I resigned myself wholly to his Will and Pleasure: besides all this, I obtained from him a Writing, signed with his own hand, and strengthened with so many powerful Circumstances, that I thought nothing could be more sure: thus relying upon a false security I contrived a way to convey him such a Night to my Lodging, where without any disturbance he might reap that Fruit, which for him alone I had reserved, and at last came that Night which by me was so much desired.  
Till she came to this point Carlos had the patience to continue silent, having her Soul depending on Angelia's Words, whose Expressions pierced her to the very heart; especially when she heard the Name of Don Manuel, she beheld the rare Beauty of Angelia, and considered the greatness of her Worth intermixed with such a singular Discretion, as she had so well manifested in the repetition of her Story: But when she came to say, at last came that Night which by me was so much desired, she had like to have lost all her Patience; so that not being able to contain herself any longer, breaks out, Very well, (said he) and when this happy Night was come, What did he then? Did he enjoy you? Did he anew confirm the Writing? Did he rest well pleased in taking that from you, which you say was only his? Did your Father know of it? Or, in what end, ended these wise Beginnings?  
They ended (replied Angelia) in putting me into this Condition; for I did neither enjoy him, nor he me, nor came to any final agreement: With these Words Carlos began to recover a little Breath, and recalled those Spirits, which by little and little were leaving her disordered Heart; such was that raging Pestilence of Jealousy, which began to spread, and diffuse itself into the most secret Retirements of the Vital Parts. Carola at last resettled, though not without some Qualms, and inward Resentments, began again to harken to the Fair Angelia, who thus proceeded.  
About some eight days after, I was credibly informed that he was gone from his House, and carried with him a Young Lady, whose Name was Carola, a Virgin of extraordinary Beauty, and rare Endowments: This was soon spread abroad, and presently arrived to my Ears, and with it that fearful Lance of Jealousy, which pierced my Heart, and set my Soul on such a flaming fire, that turned my Honour into Ashes, consumed my Credit, and wasted all my Patience to nothing.  
Then most Unfortunate! Cried I, for I then began to figure in my Imagination, Carola to be Fairer than the Sun, and more Happy than I am Miserable: Then I read over and over the Writing which I had, looked how it was Signed, and presently my Hopes fled thither for shelter, as to a Sanctuary; but when I considered the Person that Don Manuel had carried along with him, than again all my Hopes fell immediately to the Ground: I tore my Hair, and cursed the Face that had betrayed me. At last, to finish all my Sorrows, I resolved to leave my Father's House, and in Disguise, choosing a Night that had put on its blackest Mantle, I walked unto a little Town, where I found the Conveniency of a Wagon, and in two days after I arrived at Sevil: There I bought me some Apparel, and a Mule, and traveled along till Yesterday with some Gentlemen, that were with speed going to Barcelona, to take the opportunities of the Galleys bound for Italy.  
But falling unfortunately into the Hands of Thiefs, and Robbers, I lost that Jewel which kept me alive, and lightened the burden of my Afflictions; it was the Writing I had from Don Manuel. But how easily would he deny Words written in Paper, who denies those Obligations which ought to be engraven in his Soul? besides, if he is accompanied with the unparalleled Carola, he will never vouchsafe to look upon wretched Angelia. However, I am resolved to die, or to find 'em both out, to the end the sight of me may disturb their quiet. Let not that Enemy of my rest think she shall enjoy at so cheap a rate, that which is mine; I'll seek her out, and if I can, will deprive her of that life, which she enjoys in those Embraces due to none but myself.  
But what fault can you find with Carola, (said Carlos) if happily she were deceived by Don Manuel, as well as you have been? That cannot be (replied Angelia) for if they live together, as Man and Wife, the Case is evident. But be they in the remoter Deserts of Lybia, or the furthermost parts of Frozen Scythia, She questionless enjoys him.  
It may be (said Carlos) you are mistaken, and Jealousy hath misguided your thoughts, or blinded the Eyes of your Understanding, for I know her very well, whom you call your Enemy; and I am so privy to her Condition, and Retiredness, that she will never adventure to forego her Father's House, nor yield to the Will of Don Manuel: But admit she should, if she never knew you, nor knew any Contract between you, she has done you no wrong at all; and where there is no Wrong offered, no Revenge ought to be taken: Of her Retiredness, (said Angelia) you may say your Pleasure; but, I think, I was as Retired as she: And whereas, you urge she did me no Wrong, should I look upon the Fact without Passion, I must confess, she did me Justice; but the Torment of my Jealousy makes her a Criminal to my Misfortune: This is that Sword which is Sheathed in my Bowels, and none can blame me, if I pluck out that which wounds me.  
I perceive (said Carlos) the Passion which at present possesses your Mind, will not permit you to judge of things aright; nor are you at this time in any fit posture to receive good Instructions; however, I will be ready to aid and assist you, according to my Ability, in what is requisite; and I am sure the Natural Inclination, and Generosity of my Brother, will not suffer him to do otherwise. Our Course is designed for Italy, and if you resolve to go with us, your good Company will be very acceptable: You may guests at your Entertainment, by that little you have found already. Angelia returned him hearty thanks, and earnestly besought him to take her into his Protection; which Carlos faithfully promised to do; so taking their Leaves of each other, they departed to their respective Lodgings, for their Repose.  
Carola repeated all to her Brother, what Angelia had related; at which he was much surprised; but told her, were there a Confirmation of what she had then spoke, she was for Beauty, and Riches, one of the Noblest Ladies in all Andaluzia; and now (said he) we must use our utmost skill, in preventing her speaking first to Don Manuel, for though the Writing may be lost, yet the remembrance of it will be found.  
Carola having heard her Brothers Discourse retired to her Bed, thinking to take her rest, but that raging Torment of Jealousy would not permit her the least Repose. Sometimes Angelia's Beauty, and the Perfidiousness of Don Manuel appeared to her Imagination in the highest Magnitude; and then the Writing, that appeared so dreadful, that nothing but Blood was seen instead of Ink. Such Agonies as these perplexed her dubious Thoughts, and hindered Sleep, which proves a Friend to Care.  
Her Brother was kept waking, by Torments of another Nature; for no sooner did he hear who Angelia was, but his Heart was all on Flame, such force has Beauty that it conquers Hearts, and never ceases but in a happy fruition: He did not imagine Angelia could be used so barbarously as to be tied to a Tree, or clad in a Tattered Habit, but in her Rich Apparel in her Father's House; and now wishing for the welcome day, that he might pursue his Journey, and find out Don Manuel, not so much to make him his Brother, as to prevent his Marrying Angelia; desiring rather to see his Sister Comfortless, and Don Manuel fairly Buried, than to see himself Hopeless.  
Thus all with differing Thoughts, at the Approach of Day they all forsook their Beds; but Don Sebastian being first up, sent for a Habit to fit his dearest Angelia; she putting them on, Girded her Sword about her with that Lively Grace, and Vigour, as surprised Don Sebastian's Admiration, and multiplied a thousand Jealousies in Carola. About Eight in the Morning they departed their Inn, setting forward on their Journey for Barcelona; and here I want Words to express the Thoughts which the two Brothers entertained touching Angelia. Carola wishing her Death, and Don Sebastian desiring her Life; Carola seeking to find out Faults in her, that she might not despair of her Hopes, and Don Sebastian finding out those Perfections which more obliged him to love her: All these thoughts hindered not their Journey, for they reached Barcelona before Sunset.  
But as they entered into it, there was a Tumultuous Noise, and great Numbers of People were gathering together; but upon enquiry into the Cause of it, answer was made, it was a Quarrel between the Seamen, and some of the Inhabitants of that City. Then riding up to the Sea-Shore, they saw several Weapons drawn, and Multitudes of People Hewing, and Hacking one another, and could distinctly discern the Faces of some that fought; all this while Don Sebastian beholding this Cruel Scuffle, observed amongst those that took part with the Seamen, a Young Gallant that laid about him like a Tiger; the Briskness, and Valour of this young Gentleman, together with the richness of his clothes, caused all those that beheld the Fight to fix their Eyes upon him, and in such steadfast manner did Carola and Angelia behold him, that at one Instant both cried out, Heavens bless me! Either I have no Eyes, or that's Don Manuel: Then with great Nimbleness they alighted, and drawing their Swords, they cleared their way through the Crowd, and placed themselves on each side of Don Manuel.  
Fear nothing Don Manuel (cried Angelia) for you have one by your side, who with the loss of his own Life will rescue yours: Who doubts it (replied Carola) while I am here? Don Sebastian saw, and heard what had passed, but followed close, resolving to take his share. Don Manuel being busy in defending himself, took little notice of his two Seconds, but continued still eager in Fight, till at last he was forced to retreat, with his two Valiant Amazon●… on each side: The Fray it seems was not ended, but Stones, the Instruments of Popularity, were thrown plentifully, whereof one very unluckily, with a well directed force hit Don Manuel full on the Breast, and struck him backwards, Angelia no sooner saw him fall, but presently catched him in her Arms, and Carola did the like.  
Don Sebastian was likewise defending himself from the Showers of Stones which reigned about his Ears, yet saw the Accident which happened to Don Manuel; and desirous withal to approach to his Soul's delight, a certain Catalonian Knight of great Authority in the City, called to him, to keep along by his side, with a Promise to save him from the Insolency of the Unruly Rout: Don Sebastian returned the Knight hearty thanks for his friendly proffer, but besought him that he might pass forwards; telling him he saw that in great danger, which he valued more than his Life.  
This stop was a great hindrance to Don Sebastian; for before he could reach to 'em, the Longboat belonging to the Admiral's Galley, had taken in Don Manuel, and Angelia, who would never let him go out of her Arms: But as for Carola, he arrived seasonably enough, she being either weary, or overcome with Grief to see Don Manuel Wounded; or else, enraged with Jealousy, to see her Rival gone along with him, had neither Power, nor Strength to get into the Boat; and doubtless had fallen into a Fit, and dropped into the Water, had not her Brother at that juncture of time appeared to her Relief; who (indeed) himself felt no lesle Torment, than his Sister did Pain, to see that Angelia was gone away with her Lover Don Manuel.  
The Catalonian Knight being very much taken with the goodly Presence of Don Sebastian, and his Brother, called them from the Sea Shore, (where Multitudes were still thronging) and desired them to go with him, for he would Conduct them safe from the Rabble; thus forced by necessity, and being afraid of the People, not yet pacified, they willingly accepted of his friendly kindness: Thereupon, the Knight alighting from his Horse, with his Sword in his Hand, made way for 'em through the midst of that Tempestuous Crowd.  
The Knight having thus preserved the two Brothers, brought them to his own House, which was one of the chiefest in all the City. Then he enquired of Don Sebastian in which of the Galleys he came; who replying, that he was newly come into the City as the Hurly-Burly began, and espying in the Engagement, a Gentleman, who was wounded on the Breast with a Stone, but could not by any means come to his assistance: Moreover, (added he) this Gentleman is a Person on whom depends all my Felicity in this World; and therefore, if I might obtain that favour from a Person so obliging, I could wish he might be brought on Shore: Thereupon, the Knight freely told him, that he would go himself, and see him safe brought hither, which according to his Promise he performed: He found Don Manuel in a Languishing Condition, and the Surgeons dressing of his Wounds, gave their Opinion it was very dangerous, being near the Heart; which caused the Knight to be so urgent with the Admiral, that he gave him leave to take Don Manuel along with him, which was done with all the Care imaginable.  
Being Landed, the Knight brought Don Manuel, and Angelia to his House, making them both welcome: At the same time Surgeons were sent for, all confirming the dangerous Condition wherein Don Manuel was. Angelia, and Carola heard it with that Grief of Heart, as if they had heard the Sentence of their own Deaths, but not willing to discover their Sorrow, they endeavoured at that time to suppress it. Angelia resolving with herself to lose no time, but to take the first opportunity of speaking to Don Manuel, no sooner were the Surgeons gone, but she entered the Chamber were Don Manuel lay, where were present the Knight, Don Sebastian, Carola, and others: She sat by the Bedside, and taking him fast by the Hand, Sir, (said she) it is now no seasonable time, considering your Condition, to utter many Words, and therefore I shall only entreat you to lend your Ear to some few which are requisite; for it would prove ill in me, who never disobliged you, to be at this time the Cause of your Disturbance.  
At these Words, Don Manuel lifting up his Eyes, looked steadfastly on Angelia, having recollected himself, and in a manner taken her into his Memory, more by the Tone of her Voice, than by her Physiog●…omy, with a feeble Voice, as one that was full of Pain, Say on, Sir, (said he) what you please, for I am not yet so near my end, but I can listen to your Story, nor is that Voice of yours so harsh, and unpleasing, that it should give me the least Disquier.  
Carola harkened most attentively, and every Word that Angelia spoke, pierced her to the Heart, and at the same time Wounded the Soul of Don Sebastian, who also heard her, then proceeding, Sir, (said she) if some strange Misfortune had not hurt your Memory; or rather, if some foul Blemish has not stained my Virtue, you cannot but remember her, who not long since, you were pleased to Honour with the Name of your Celestial Treasure; you would then remember who Angelia was, and your Promise you gave her in Writing, Signed with your own Hand; neither can you forget the Worth of her Parents, her Fidelity, and the Obligations wherein you stand bound to her; for resigning up so easy a Victory to your Vows, and Protestations. If your Memory does not at this time fail you, (though thus Disguised) you may easily perceive I am your most Unfortunate Angelia. No sooner had you taken your speedy Flight, but I began my sorrowful Journey; despising the worst of Miseries that could happen to me, I was resolved to wander up and down, leaving no place unsearched, till I had found you out; for if ever you felt the Power of true Love, or heard of the Rage of a Deceived Woman; you will not be Astonished, but rather Convert your Wonder into Pity. And now let me beg of you, for the Love you bear to Heaven, your own Honour, and for the sake of her, to whom you owe more than to all the World; only to be true to Justice, let that be perfectly Consummated now in Public, which you were so willing to Contract in Private; for no further Delays can be allowed of, without the ruin of your Honour, and my eternal Shame. Here Angelia stopped: Now they that were in the Room, expected when Don Manuel; would give an Answer; who in a little while lifting up his Eyes, said to her,  
Fair Angelia, I am not ignorant of any Obligations, wherein I stand engaged, for those many Favours received from you; neither do I forget the Worth of your Noble Parents, nor your own Unblemished Virtues; neither do I disesteem you for seeking me out in a Disguise so subject to Censure: But I must proclaim a truth, and if it prove unpleasant to your Ears, I am an unwelcome Herald. I confess, Fair Angelia, I loved you well, for which you conferred on me a Retribution: but yet the Writing which you are pleased to command, was given you more in Complaisance to your Request, than any Act of my own Inclination, for many days before I surrendered up my Heart with as pure a Flame as was proportionable to the Beauty I so much admired. The Fair Carola, is the Object whom I must Adore, and to whom I will perform those Vows, in the Face of Heaven: Therefore, pray Madam, take it not for so high a Crime; for I left not only you, but her, in the same Suspense. I do acknowledge I am guilty of the Imprudent Proceedings of a rash Young Man, being void of Judgement, Meditation, or Consideration: And as for the Writing, I look upon it to be indifferent; this I thought fit to impart before my Death, that the Memory of this Truth may not be Buried in Oblivion.  
While Don Manuel, thus Discoursed with Angelia, his Arm was the Support on which his Head rested; but having made an end of speaking, he was ready to faint, and had not Don Sebastian ran immediately and catched him in his Arms, he had fallen into a Swoon. Recovering his Spirits, he cast his Eyes on Don Sebastian; then taking him by the Hand, he forced it to his Lips; mutually they Embraced, and Kissed each other, using many Compliments, whereby they renewed their former Friendship: Then said Don Manuel, Sir, the great Joy I receive in seeing you, renews my Sorrows, for you set before my Eyes my Ingratitude which I am guilty of, but since it cannot be remedied, whatever Misery now befalls me, i'll receive it with pleasure, in exchange of this short Enjoyment of your Friendship. Sir, replied Don Sebastian, I have been an Ear Witness of your kind Expressions you were pleased to use, in acknowledging that Passion you have for my Sister Carola; (then taking her by the Hand, who was all this while weeping) and (Sir) to complete that Happiness the more, I here present her to your Hand, who (I believe) at this time may effect upon your Wound an Excellent Cure: They were both so transported with Joy, that their Cheeks were Bathed in Amorous Tears.  
All that were in the Room were silent, being surprised with admiration to behold so strange an Accident: at the same time Angelia perceiving how things went, and what would be the Product in the end; that her Hopes were quite frustrated of ever obtaining Don Manuel, she stole out of the Company, and being got out of the Room, instantly made into the Street, intending to have wandered wherever Despair would lead her; scarce had she got out of Doors, when Don Sebastian began to miss her, and as if he had lost his Soul, made strict enquiry after her; but no Body could give him intelligence which way she was gone: Like one almost distracted, he posted first to the Muliteers Inn; but finding her not there, he ran like a Mad Man through the Streets, searching all places as he went through; believing at length, she might design for the Sea side, whither he hastened with all Speed: As he drew near, he heard a Voice calling aloud for the Boat belonging to the Admiral's Galley, who presently knew it to be Angelia; he flew to her as swift as an Eagle to his Prey: Angelia stood at first upon her Guard with her Sword in her Hand, but perceiving it to be Don Sebastian, she was grieved at the Heart he should find her, especially in a place so remote from Company: She discerned that Don Sebastian had a real Passion for her, and could have wished that Don Manuel had loved her but half so well: Don Sebastian was glad he had so fortunately Retrieved her, and more pleased at the Opportunity of the Place, where he applied himself to her, in these Words.  
Since Fortune has proved thus kind to me, fair Angelia, should I now want power to discover the Secrets of my Soul, there would lie concealed in this Bosom, the most Cordial Affection, that was ever harboured in a Lover's Breast: Don Manuel, hath the Advantage of me only in this, that he is the first that had the Possession of your Heart; but since his Heart was not in his Power to give, nor your Happiness to receive, may the Gods inspire you with that Love, that in Exchange for his you may take mine. My Extraction is not Ignoble, nor my Fortune much Inferior, to Don Manuel; but what Heaven's Bounty (Madam) hath opened her Hand to give, I will humbly prostrate at your Feet, to take: Angelia, continued silent, all the while; letting fall some Tears, and fetching some few Sighs; then taking her by the Hand, he kissed it very often; still kissing of it between while. Madam, (said he) remove this pain which I endure; and speak that happy Word, that Angelia is Sebastian's? Let me beg of you to entertain so importunate a Passion, that nothing but a suitable return, can be Satisfactory: pronounce, (Madam) that happy Sentence, and then may Torments equal to your Hate (if such could be found out) fall on me, if ever Passion was so pure as mine, or shall prove so constant.  
Angelia, so soon as she had dried those Tears which had bedewed her Cheeks, she said, Sir, I look upon you as a Gentleman, far above what I can pretend or lay claim to, but more than ever I can merit; yet if you think me worthy of your Marriage Bed, and what you utter with your Tongue, proceeds from a real Affection, I shall (said she with a little redness) surrender up myself, and consent if Heaven has so decreed it; but if what you said should prove untrue; it will the more increase my Torment. Ah, Madam! (said Don Sebastian) may the brightest Luminary ever cease to display his Beams upon me, if ever Sebastian proves false unto Angelia. Then give me Sir, (said she) that Hand of yours, and in Exchange take mine, and let those Clouds, these Sands, and Seas, with the still silence of this place (only interrupted by my Sighs, and your Entreaties) be Witnesses of this Engagement. Having said this, she permitted Don Sebastian, to embrace her, and by Exchange of Hands, they solemnised their private Nuptials with the shedding of a few Tears, rejoicing at the flight of their past sorrow.  
This Ceremony being ended, they presently returned to the Knight's House, where at the Entrance, they heard a noise of Music, with great Expressions of Joy, not dreaming so sudden a performing of the Nuptials of Don Manuel, and Carola; which afterwards they were fully informed of, with the Reasons of so quick a dispatch. At their return they were received with great Joy, by the Catalonian Knight, Don Manuel, Carola, and the rest: Don Sebastian having informed them what passages had happened between him and Angelia, they were infinitely well pleased, embracing each other, the Priest being in the House gave order to have Angelia's Habit changed, which being done, he joined their Hands, as he had done Don Manuel's and Carola's, pronouncing them Husband and Wife, which gave Satisfaction to all that were present. After that the Knight desired their Companies in a Room, which he kept for public Entertainment of Friends; where was a Table furnished with all Varieties, ●…hey all seating themselves, feasting very ●…lentifully, and closing with the Bride ●…nd Bridegrooms Health they departed the ●…oom.  
Now all their Care and Diligence was ●…bout Don Manuel's recovery of his Wound; ●…ut the Surgeons so applied their ut●…ost Skill that in Fourteen days he was per●…ectly cured, and able to perform his Jour●…ey; the day of departure being come they ●…ll took leave of that Liberal Knight, who ●…ad heaped on them so many Favours, and ●…iven them such noble Entertainment; his Name was Don Martin de Coligni, most Noble in his Blood, and as Famous in his ●…erson; thus making a thankful Acknow●…edgment, Don Sebastian presented him with a Rich Diamond Ring, which he im●…ortuned him to take, as a small remem●…rance: Then they proceeded upon their ●…ourney, where in a few days from the top ●…f a high Hill, they could discern their re●…pective Houses.  
They discovered likewise from the same ●…art of the Hill, a large and spacious Val●…ey, and under the shade of an Olive-Tree▪ 〈◊〉 tall lusty Gentleman, upon a strong limbed Horse, with a white Shield on his left Arm, ●…nd a very strong well pointed Lance in his right Hand; while they were observing him with a fixed Eye, they perceived two more among the Trees, well mounted, with the same Arms the other had: soon after, they all three met together, and having consulted a while, two of 'em went a part some few Paces, then putting Spurs to their Horses they encountered very furiously, and with such dexterity, as clearly proved they were Masters in that Exercise; the third Man stood as a Spectator, without moving from his place: Don Sebastian being very impatient to see so well a maintained Combat, and himself at so far a distance, he running withal that speed he could make, down the Hill (leaving Carola, Angelia, and Don Manuel to follow after) drew near the Combatants; just as they were both slightly wounded, one of their Helmets being fallen off, in the turning of his Face, Don Sebastian knew it was his Father, and immediately flung himself among the Combatants, desiring to be informed of the Cause of this Engagement; by this time, Don Manuel, Carola, and Angelia, were come to 'em; Don Manuel, presently knew the other to be his Father: Angelia also having earnestly eyed the Person who did not engage, knew him to be her Parent, with which sight all four were strangely surprised. But this their sudden Passion not admitting the formalities of Discourse, they all fell down, and cried, stay your Hands, for we who beg this of you are your own Flesh and Blood; then said Don Manuel, my Honoured Father, I am he, for whom I Imagine these your Venerable Grey Hairs are in dispute; let me beseech you to lay aside your Anger, and those Weapons, or Exercise them upon me, who indeed deserves to be the Object of your fury; then perceiving that Don Frederick, Angelia's Father, was alighted, and embracing of her, she gave him a Relation of what had passed in all their Travels, and desired him to give his two Friends an account; which he presently did; and the other two immediately alighted, most lovingly embracing them, but not without the mixture of some Tears which sprang from the Fountains of Love and Joy.  
Not long after, there appeared in the same Valley, several Gentlemen, completely armed, which were to be Seconds to these Noble Persons; but as they drew near, perceived they were embracing one another, but could not tell what to think of it, while Don Frederick went and informed them who they were, and what his Daughter Angelia had told him: then they immediately alighted, and paid them that respect which was due to their Quality. In the Conclusion, Don Manuel's Father proposed to have both the Weddings resolemnized at his own House, which being agreed upon, they departed home; as they went along, Don Sebastian, and Don Manuel, enquired into the Cause of this Combat, and found, that Carola, and Angelia's Fathers, had Challenged Don Manuel's suspecting him to Conceal his Sons Designs.  
The next day after their return home, their Nuptials were Solemnised, with great Splendour, who lived many Years happy together, and left behind them a Noble Stock to Posterity: The Place in Andaluzia I shall forbear to name, because I desire to keep up the Reputation of those two Ladies, whom peradventure, some Tongues, either Malicious, or Foolish, might be Censorious, and tax of lightness in their Desires: But I shall entreat them not to blame the like Liberties, and Exercises, till they look back into themselves, and seriously call to accounted, whether they were never smitten with Cupidinian Fires, or felt the force of Love, which in Effect is unresistable.  
As for the Mule-Driver, he never met with such Entertainment in his Life, he lived bravely all the time of the Weddings, and at last Don Sebastian, and Don Manuel, sent him away so well Contented, what with his Liberal Pay, and many Gifts bestowed upon him, you may be sure he took care to avoid the Wood where Angelia was Rob; and when he got Home, his Wife never made him so Welcome in all his Life; besides the many Flagons of Wine his Neighbours bestowed on him for relating the Story of his Travels.   

THE Mistakes: A NOVEL.  
TWo Young Gentlemen, Fellow Students in Spain, were resolved to leave their Studies, and go for Flanders; led thither by the heat of their Youthful Blood, the desire they had to see the World, and to learn the Exercise of Arms: To this purpose they arrived there (but in a time of Peace and Quietness, contrary to their Expectation, or else Articles of a Treaty suddenly to be Ratified) Coming to Antwerp they received Letters from their Fathers, which testified to 'em their Displeasure, for leaving their Studies without their Assent; and the not acquainting them with their intended Journey, whereby they might have appeared in an Equipage suitable to their Birth, and Quality.  
Don Bernardo, and Francisco, these two young Gentlemen, perceiving that what they had acted displeased their Parents, designed to return back to Spain, since they saw there was nothing of Action in Flanders; yet before they returned, they would satisfy their Curiosity in seeing all the most Famous Cities of Italy: Having viewed them all, with Delight, and Admiration, they settled themselves in Bologna; where highly applauding the Methods of Study in that Famous University, and earnestly desiring, that there they might accomplish their Education, they immediately Posted away Letters to their Friends, informing them of the great Advantage they could reap by their Studies, in that so much Famed University: Upon the Receipt of their Letters, their Friends were extraordinary glad, that they were so careful of their Learning, and sent them several Bills of Exchange, to receive Sums of Money, whereby they might furnish themselves with those Necessaries Equivalent to their Birth and Quality.  
Don Francisco was about Twenty Six Years of Age, and Don Bernardo two Years younger; they visited the Schools often, and had attained to that great Skill in Music, and Poetry, with other extraordinary Endowments, that they were Admired, and Applauded by the whole University. They showed themselves to all very Courteous, and Liberal, and were far from that Pride, and Arrogancy Spaniards are generally taxed withal.  
But young Blood running in their Veins, and being full of Jollity, they were desirous of taking a Prospect of the Chief Beauties belonging to that City; and though there were many Gallant Ladies, Married, and Single, that were Extolled for Beauty, and Virtue; yet above all, the Lady Evadne was Fame's Jewel, and of a Noble Extraction.  
Evadne, extremely Fair, and Beautiful, Adorned with all the Excellency's Nature could design; that to do her Justice, she was indeed Nature's Masterpiece; her Parents both dying, she was left under the Guardianship of Marcellus her Brother, an Honourable, and Valiant Gentleman: They left behind them great Riches, which makes Orphanship the more pleasant, and easy. Her Retiredness was so strict, that she would not admit of any Visitants; and her Brother's Care was so great, and tender of her, that he permitted her to do what she pleased, without contradicting of her.  
But the Fame, and Report of her Transcendent Charms raised an Ambition in Don Francisco, and Don Bernardo to view her; but all the Stratagems they could think of was in vain, for they could not once obtain the Sight of her. Seeing their Hopes frustrated, their Desires by degrees were wholly extinguished; and now wholly applying themselves to Study, and the Diversion of some Innocent Recreations, they led a Facetious Life together, seldom rambling abroad in the Night, or when they did, they always went well Armed.  
It happened, not long after, they had made an Agreement to walk abroad one Evening; but a Vagary came into Don Bernardo's Head, that he framed some Excuse to stay a while behind, but desired Don Francisco to go on before, and he would presently follow after. I am not in such Post haste (replied Don Francisco) but I can stay for you; or, if neither of us goes out this Night, the Matter's not great. After a few Entreaties, Don Bernardo persuaded him to go first, and he assured him he would follow him: Don Francisco told him, he thought it was some Maggot, and bid him use his own Pleasure; but if he did follow him, he should find him in the same Walk, they generally used.  
The Night was somewhat Dark, and the Hour Eleven; Don Francisco having walked through two or three Streets, and finding none to Converse withal, resolved at last to return home; but passing through a Street, which had a Portico built on Pillars of Marble, he heard some Body Whist with a soft and low Voice; the Night being dark, he could not imagine from whence it came; but Halting a little, and attentively listening, he perceived a Door open half way, drawing near to it, he heard a low, small Voice speak, Who's there, Giacomo? Yes, said Don Francisco: Then take this (replied they within) and be careful to have it safely kept, and return again hither immediately: Don Francisco putting forth his Hand felt something ponderous, but could not guests what it was; and thinking to take it with one Hand, he found there was occasion to use both: No sooner had he received it, but the Door was shut; then marching off, he found himself in the Street with his unknown Treasure; but by that time he had gone some few Paces, he heard a Child cry, which it seems was newly born: What to do in this Strange Case he was ignorant, being full of Amazement: To return back to the House, he considered with himself, might prove dangerous to the Infant and himself; he having assumed the Person of him to whom it was intended; and to leave it in the Street, he looked upon it as Inhumanity; but remembering the Charge he had received, to be Careful, and have it safely kept, and to return immediately, He resolved to carry it to his own House, and leave it in the Custody of an Elderly Woman, which was his Housekeeper, whose Name was Dorila, and then return back, to see what further occasion there was of his Service, or what more Mistakes there might be committed.  
At length he brought it Home to his House, (Don Bernardo being gone to find him) and entering into a Room next at hand, called Dorila to him, and bid her Unswath the Infant. When she had opened it, they both viewed it, and found it to be a Male Child, very Fair, and Beautiful; the Ornaments about it declared it was of no mean Parentage, or ordinary Extraction. Then Don Francisco desired her to procure a Nurse for it, but first to take of those rich Mantles, and to put on meaner: And for the better Concealing my bringing it hither, you shall Convey it to a Midwife, who is seldom unprovided of necessary Expedients upon such Occasions; and for her Gratification, take Money with you to defray the Charge; you may nominate what Parents you shall think fit, and give it what Name the Midwife and you shall agree upon: All this Dorila promised should be faithfully performed according to his Order.  
The Business being thus contrived, Don Francisco with all speed hastened back to the place, to hear whether they would Whist any more to him. But instead of that, a little before he came to the House where the Whisting came from, he heard a great Clashing of Swords, as if several had been Fight: He listened a while but could hear no Words spoke, but by the Sparks which flew from their Weapons, he perceived by the Glimpse, that one was set upon by a great many; and had a Confirmation of it, by hearing one say, False Traitors, though you are many against one, yet shall not your Advantageous Number gain you the Victory.  
Don Francisco at these Words, transported by his eager Courage, at two Leaps made to the side of the Gentleman assaulted, and drew out his Sword with so much Gallantry, saying, Sir, fear nothing, for such Aid is come to your Relief, as will not fail you, till his Sword or Life fail: And therefore, fortify your Strength and Resolution; for Traitors, though numerous, are not always successful. Immediately one of the Adverse Party replied, Villain thou Liest, here's no Traitors: But where there is Justice in a Cause, there's always hopes of Victory.  
They had not time to use more Expressions, for the hast they were in to Conquer each other, would not admit of a Parley; the unequal Party pressed very hard upon Don Francisco, and his Companion, that at two Thrusts they laid the Stranger on the Ground: Don Francisco believing he had received his Mortal Wound, reassumed to himself that Courage, seconding his Blows so powerfully, and with such nimbleness, that they were forced to retreat.  
But all his Magnanimity had not been able to have defended him against so Potent an Enemy, had not Dame Fortune stepped in to his Protection; for the Inhabitants by this time were alarmed, and opened their Windows; others came forth with Lights, and to cry out for help, which the greatest Party perceiving, forsook the place, and made their Escape.  
By this time the Stranger that was fallen, had recovered himself, for those Thrusts he received, lighted on some private Armour he had on, which was as hard, as the very Adamant. Don Francisco in this Skirmish having lost his Hat, by chance took up another, which he put on, without looking whether it was his own.  
The Gentleman rising up, said (to Don Francisco) Sir, that I am indebted to you for my Life, is not a greater truth, then that, I shall never scruple to lose it in your Service; and what Fortune has been pleased to bestow on me, I shall be very ready to lay at your Feet; but lest my Ignorance might (when occasion serves) tender me uncapable of paying you that Debt, I shall beg to be acquainted with your Name, that by my future Gratitude I may express my thankfulness.  
Sir, (replied Don Francisco) the Service I have paid you, is so much the Duty of one Gentleman to another, that it merits not an acknowledgement; but to comply with your Desires, I shall give you that satisfaction which is agreeable to your Demands. I am a Gentleman, a Spaniard, and a Student in this University, and if my Name can render you any Service, I am called Don Francisco de Bazola.  
You have highly honoured me (replied the Stranger) in every respect, but I dare not discover my Name to you, but am willing you should be informed from another, rather than myself; and I will take that care, you shall not remain long a Stranger to it. By this time they perceived eight Persons, making towards 'em; Don Francisco thinking them to be Enemies, desired the Stranger to be in a readiness to receive 'em, and he would not be wanting in his Duty to assist him: though their number be so unequal, I believe, Sir, (replied the Stranger) they are not Enemies, but Friends; the Words were no sooner spoke, but they surrounded him, Whispering some few Words to him, but so low, as Don Francisco could not hear 'em.  
Upon this, the Stranger turning aside from 'em to Don Francisco, he embraced him, saying, Sir, these Gentlemen are my Friends, and have promised me their assistance, else I should have created you farther trouble, by conducting me to some place of Safety; but since Fortune hath offered this means for my Preservation, I will resign myself up to their Protection. Having lost his Hat (as he pretended) he desired his Friends to get him another; scarce had he spoke the Word, when Don Francisco offered him the Hat which he had; the Stranger no sooner viewed it, but returned it to him again, saying, Sir, this is not mine, but I beseech you except of it, and wear it as a Trophy of this days Victory: Moreover, (he added) I am sorry that Time Summons me away, which hinders me the paying you that further respect that is due to your Merits. Using some short Compliments, the Stranger took his leave of Don Francisco; who was in a great Surmise, who this Person should be; but by the richness of the Hatband of Diamonds, which was on the Hat the Stranger gave him; he concluded, he must be some great person of Quality.  
Don Francisco as he was returning home, met Don Bernardo his Companion, who told him he thought he had been lost; and withal desired him to turn back, and walk with him some few Paces, and he would give him a Relation of what had happened to him in his Absence: Don Francisco, willing to hear his Story, returned back with Don Bernardo, who gave him this following Account.  
A little more than an hour after you were gone, I went in order to find you out, and before I could reach thirty Paces, saw a Person coming in great haste, as it were to meet me, and approaching nearer to me, 〈◊〉 perceived it was a Woman, in a long Habit, who with a Voice, interrupted with Sighs, and Tears, said, Sir, are you a Stranger, or one of this City? Madam, (I ●…eply'd) I am a Stranger, and a Spaniard at ●…our Devotion, and am ready to assist any Lady in Distress: I see Amazement, Madam, in your Face, Pray are you Wounded, or have you received any prejudice whereby your Life is in danger? Sir, (said she) the Injury I have received, may prove my Death, without some speedy Remedy: Therefore, I beseech you, by that Civility which is never wanting in any Gentleman of your Nation, to Conduct me safe to your Lodging with the greatest speed imaginable; there I will inform you of my Person, and the occasion of giving you, Sir, this trouble.  
Seeing my assistance was desired with speed, without any reply, I led her through private ways to my Lodging; Roderigo my Page was ready, who when he had opened the Door, I ordered him to withdraw, and without his seeing her, conveyed her to my Chamber: She was no sooner entered, but she threw herself on the Bed, and fell into a Swoon; upon which, I uncovered her Face, which was shaded with a Veil, and discovered the greatest Beauty that ever Mortal Eyes beheld; her Age, I Conjectured, might be about Seventeen: I stood a while in admiration at such a rare Angelical Form, and Shape, but recovering of herself, she put me out of that deep Ecstasy I was in, but she continued sighing, and lamenting her Condition; lifting up her Eyes she looked earnestly upon me, and said, Do you know me, Sir? No, Madam, (I replied) I never was so happy to be acquainted with so much Beauty.  
O unhappy is that Beauty (said she) which Heaven bestows on many for their great Misfortune! But this, Gentle Sir, is no time to commend Beauty, but to remedy the Events of Future Mischiefs: Therefore I beseech you, by your Worth, and Nobleness, to leave me here locked up from all Human Eyes, and presently return to that place, where I received from you that kind assistance: If there be any Persons engaged with one another, I entreat you, Sir, side not with any Party, but rather seek to reconcile their difference; for whatsoever Blood is spilt on either side, will be a new supply to my former Miseries. Having done speaking, I assured her those Commands she had laid upon me, should be obeyed, and punctually observed; so having left her to herself, I am now going to finish my Promise.  
The Accident is very strange, (replied Don Francisco) and if you have done, I will give you an Account of my Adventures. So relating to him the whole Story of what had happened to him, but particularly of the Quarrel he engaged himself in, in rescuing a Gentleman who was defending himself against a very unequal number; which he believed might be that Engagement he was going to inform himself of, and which the Lady would receive satisfaction from: Moreover, he told Don Bernardo, all things were now silent; and did believe that those Persons who were engaged, were Persons of great Quality. They both admired at each others Fortune, resolving now to hasten homewards to look after their Charge, and give their Attendance to the Lady.  
As they were walking home, Don Bernardo acquainted Don Francisco of the Obligation the Lady had laid on him, and of his Promise he made to her for performance of it; which was, That none should be admitted into the Chamber, but himself. Don Francisco replied, I will device some Stratagem or other to behold this Beauty you have so highly commended. In discoursing, Don Bernardo cast his Eyes on the Hatband Don Francisco had, which did sparkle, and shine with great lustre; so taking it from his Head, they both found it to be exceeding rich, and of great Value: This Hat (replied Don Francisco) was presented to me by the Person whom I assisted, telling me, I should accept of it, because it was well known; and keep it as a remembrance of that Days Victory.  
Being arrived at home, Don Bernardo opened his Chamber Door, and finding the Lady leaning her Cheek on her Hand, which she had bathed with her tender Tears, Don Francisco having an earnest desire to see her, put his Head half way in; at which instant, the sparkling of the Diamond Hatband shined in those Eyes which were full of Tears. Come in my Lord Duke (said she) come in, Why will you distribute to me with so sparing a Hand, the richness of your Presence.  
Madam, (replied Don Bernardo) your Ladyship's mistaken, here's no Duke to excuse himself; for not waiting on you. How, Sir, (said she) no Duke! Then have my Eyes deceived me; for that Person that looked into the Room must needs be him, whom the richness of his Hat cannot conceal. Indeed Madam, I can assure you, (replied Don Bernardo) the Hat which you saw, no Duke wears it; and if you are willing to be fully satisfied, by giving him admittance into your Presence, the Person (Madam) shall attend you: Sir, if it will not be too great a trouble to you, (said she) to request that favour of him, I shall be more at ease; yet if my hopes are frustrated, and he prove not to be the Duke, it will make an Addition to my Affliction; Don Francisco heard what was said, and having leave granted for his Admittance, he made his Entry into the Chamber, and having paid those Respects due to her Person and Quality, she was soon convinced that he was not the Duke: then Blushing at the Mistake, with a discomposed Voice said to him,  
Unhappy, and Miserable that I am! Inform me, Sir, I beseech you, without holding me in Suspense, whether you know the Person that did own this Hat? Where you left him? And whether happily alive? or is it the unwelcome Messenger of his Death? Then Weeping (she said) And is it possible for me to behold those sparkling Diamonds here, and to behold myself thus clouded without thee, immured up in a Chamber under the Power of Strangers? Dear Madam, said Don Francisco, torment not yourself, the Owner of this Hat is not dead, neither are you in such hands, that you will receive the least prejudice by; for our Lives and Fortunes are ready to protect you when ever any occasion shall require our Service; and be assured Madam, that all the Respect shall be paid to you, which is due to your Birth, and Quality. Then she desired him to give her an Account of what Passages happened in the Enterprise, for (said she) that Hat belongs to Cosmo de Medicis, Duke of Milan.  
Don Francisco, not willing to hold her longer in Suspense, recounted to her the whole Relation. Madam, (said he) the Person who presented this Hat to me, I suppose is the Duke of Milan, I left him in very good health, and in the Company of some Friends that came to his assistance. This (Madam) that I have related to you is a certain Truth. Evadne returned him many Thanks, and told him her Mind was much eased for the present.  
By this time Dorila had dressed the Child, and going to carry it out, as she passed by the Lady's Chamber, the Child cried so strongly, that it gave an Alarm to the Lady, who enquiring of both the Gentlemen, desired to know what Child that was, which to her thi●…king, was newly Born: Madam (replied Don Francisco) it is a Present was ●…aid at our Doors this Night, and Dorila our Woman is going to get a Nurse for it. 〈◊〉 Pray, Sir, let her bring it to me (said the Lady) and i'll exercise that Charitable Act for others, since Fortune is not so kind to permit me to do it for my own. Then Don Francisco called Dorila, to bring the Child, which he presented to the Lady, saying, (Madam) you may behold the Gift which this Night has produced, and it is no surprise to us, for we often meet with such Accidents. The Lady Evadne having the Child in her Arms, looked as earnestly on the Face, as she did on the meanness of the clothes it had on, and could not refrain from weeping; so covering her Breast, that she might with more Modesty give the Infant Suck, she applied it to her Nipple, and laid her Face to the Child's, bathing it with her Tears.  
The Lady considering the Child received little or no Sustenance, she returned it to Don Francisco, saying, In vain have I exercised my Charity, I find I am not experienced in these Cases: Then she desired him to give order, that the Child might not be carried out into the Air at that time of Night, but be kept till the next day, and before it went she desired it might be brought to her, for she took great delight in viewing it.  
Don Francisco returning the Child to Dorila, gave her order to take care of it till the next day, and then dress it up as handsomely as she could in those Rich Mantles it was brought in, but not bring it till he called for it: Then returning to the Lady's Chamber, where there was only Don Bernardo, with the Lady Evadne, who through grief being ready to faint, desired something to eat whereby she might support her Spirits, that she might be able to utter her intended Relation. Then Don Bernardo went immediately to his Closet, and fetched thence some Conserves, and Sweetmeats, wherewith she being refreshed, she began her Account in these Words:  
I am one of this City, (whom I doubt not but you have heard very often nominated) the Unfortunate Evadne Barbarino; and by those which used to flatter me, was famed for Beauty; but such as it is, (Gentlemen) you may perceive that those which did applaud it, wanted Skill: Being a young Orphan, I was left under the Guardianship of Marcellus my Brother, who was indeed very Vigilant over me: Thus being confined to Solitude, only accompanied by my Woman, which Waited on me, growing up in Years and Stature, Fame's Trumpet blew aloud, by the Breath of those Persons who had privately visited me, and by a Picture which my Brother's Curiosity would have done by a Famous Painter of Italy. But all this would have been the least part of hastening my Misfortunes, had not the Duke of Milan done a Kinswoman of mine the honour to give her in Marriage. My Brother, to add more Guests to it, desired my Company; there it was the Duke beheld me, and wronged his Judgement, in making me the Object of his Love; who now has brought me to endless Misery.  
Gentlemen, I will not relate to you, the Devices, Plots, and Means, how the Duke at the end of two Years came to obtain his Desires, which had their Birth at this Wedding: For neither Guardings, Watchings, Brotherly Admonitions, nor any other Human Industry, were sufficient to hinder our private Assignations; but before I would surrender up myself into his close Embraces, he gave his faithful Promise upon his Honour, to Mary me: I begged of him very often to inform my Brother of his Intentions; but to what I desired, he pleaded those Excuses, which he entreated me to approve of, to be requisite, and necessary: In Obedience to his Commands, I did, as many other Lovers do, believe the best; within a few days I found an Alteration in myself, and not willing to discover my Condition, I feigned myself Sick, and Melancholy, desiring my Brother to remove me to that Kinswoman's House, where was the beginning of my Affliction.  
There did I ease my Mind, and make known the present danger which seemed to threaten me; for small Felicity did I take, when Jealousies and Fears were always tormenting me, thinking that my Brother had suspected my Imprudence. But it being fully agreed upon between the Duke and myself, that when I was in my last Month, I should give him notice of it; and that he with some other Friends would make Provision for me to go to Milan, where those Matrimonial Rites should be solemnised.  
This was the Night that was concluded on for his coming, and this very Night waiting and expecting of him, I heard my Brother pass by, with many other Persons, which seemed to be ready to engage, by the noise of their Armour; this sudden Fear, made Passion so prevalent, that instantly I was delivered of a Son, and this waiting Woman of mine, who was the Duke's Sollicitress, and privy to all my Actions; she seeing this sudden Alteration, wrapped the Child in other Clothes than this Infant has on, which was laid at your Lodging, and going to the Street Door, she gave it (as she informed me) to a Servant of the Duke's. In a little while after, accommodating myself the best I could, answerable to my present Necessity, I left the House, thinking the Duke had been near at hand, which indeed I did contrary to his Orders; but the fear of my Brother's severity hindered room for better Consideration, and foolishly forced me forth, where I met with this Charitable Reception at your Hands.  
Having ended her Discourse, her Head fell from her arm whereon it rested; the Gentlemen ran immediately to see whether a Fainting Fit had not seized her; but perceiving she wept bitterly, Don Francisco applied himself to her in these Words: Madam, if myself and Companion, when Ignorant of your Birth and Quality, have had that Commiseration of you as a Lady in Distress, we are now ready (Madam) being fully informed of your great Worth, to pay those double Obligations and Respects which are due to your Merits, and you may command (Madam) what ever Spanish Civility can lay claim to: Though you never were under the like Misfortune before; yet I beseech you, Madam, by your Nobleness, show Patience an Example: Believe me (Madam) I am of that prophetic Spirit, that such strange beginnings will terminate in a happy Conclusion: for the Gods will ne'er permit that so much Beauty should be Oppressed, and such Virtuous Thoughts so ill rewarded: The best advice, (Madam) I now can Dictate to you, is to take your rest, and preserve your Spirits; Dorila our Servant shall attend you, whom you may place Confidence in, and knows as well how to silence your Misfortunes, as she does how to pay her Respects and Services; and will endeavour to wade through all difficulties to oblige you.  
Sir since you will oblige me so far (said Evadne) let me see her; for being proffered to me by so good a hand as yours, I shall think her very necessary in this present Occasion, but I desire that none else may be Eye-Witnesses of my Misfortunes. None Madam (replied Don Francisco,) shall dare to approach you or invade your privacy, without your Knowledge: so leaving her alone, they went out, and Don Francisco called to Dorila, and ordered her to carry in the Child dressed up in its Rich Mantles; which she had done in the same manner he brought it home: Then Dorila went in with the Child, being informed before what she should answer to such questions as the Lady should ask her.  
So soon as the Lady Evadne saw her, she bid her welcome, and said to her, prithee Dorila, give me that pretty Creature, and bring hither the light. Evadne taking the Child in her Arms, she seemed to be much concerned and looked very earnestly upon it, saying, Dorila, tell me truly, Is not this the same Child you brought some few hours since? Yes, Madam, (she replied.) How comes this sudden Alteration in the Mantles, (said Evadne?) Either these are other Garments, or else, this is not the same Infant? then she fell a weeping, saying, tell me, I conjure thee, dear Dorila, by all which thou lovest best, and all that's nearest and dearest to thee, tell me, I say, where thou hadst this Babe and Mantles, for I am the unfortunate owner of 'em, if sense of Sight and Memory doth not fail me; for in this Garb, I delivered to my Maid, the most beloved of my Soul.  
Don Francisco and Don Bernardo, hearing her in this Passion, were not willing she should be held any longer in Pain or Suspense, resolved to remove the Doubts and Scruples which at that time had got Possession of her: Then Don Francisco said to her, these Mantles and this Child (Madam Evadne) are both yours; then he related to her by Degrees, that he was the Person whom the Maid delivered the Child to, how he brought it home, and ordered Dorila to change the Mantles, that the Child should not be known: However, after her Ladyship had acquainted him with her Delivery, he was certainly assured it must be her Son, and he had informed her sooner, had he found out an opportunity; but now seeing her sudden Passion, proceeding from misdoubt, it might be recompensed with the supervening Joy of knowing her own. Infinite were the Tears of Joy shed by Evadne, endless were the Kisses she gave her Son, and many the thanks which she rendered to Don Francisco and Don Bernardo, calling them her Guardian Angels, with many other Titles, in Expression of her Thankfulness.  
Thus leaving her with Dorila, to whose Care they recommended the Lady, with a strict Charge to let nothing be wanting that was necessary for a Person in her State and Condition; having so done, that little remnant of Night which was left, they had Occasion to use it for rest; the next Morning they enquired after Evadne, how she had slept that Night, Dorila told 'em pretty well, and that she was not yet awake; whereupon, they went to visit the Schools, and passed through that Street where the Duke was set upon, and by the House, which the Lady Evadne came from, to hearken out, if any Discourse were concerning Evadne, or the Duke; but all was hushed up and silent, perceiving no notice to be taken of either.  
Having heard their Lectures they returned home. Evadne hearing of them come, sent Dorila immediately to desire their Company. Don Francisco, and his Companion told Dorila, they were ready to attend her Pleasure. So entering her Chamber, having complemented Evadne, they told her they had waited upon her sooner, but they were not willing to be so presumptuous as to press into her presence without Order: She desired them with Tears and Entreaties, not to use those Ceremonies now to her, but to lay them by for a more fit opportunity. For she having the Happiness to see none but themselves, and Dorila, she looked upon Freedom to be the only Felicity could here be enjoyed; then she enquired of them whether they heard any reports concerning her escape: they informed her they had made enquiry with all the Curiosity they could device, but not a word was to be heard concerning it.  
Whilst they were Discoursing, one of the Pages came to the Chamber Door, and told Dorila there was a Gentleman below, attended by two Servants, whose name is Marcellus Barbarino, and desires earnestly to speak with Don Francisco de Bazola: Upon the hearing of this Message, Evadne, with a low Voice, uttered these Words; My Brother! (Gentlemen) my Brother! it is he! Doubtless, he has had Intelligence of my being here, and is come with an intent to deprive me of my Life; therefore, I beseech you Noble Spaniards, succour and protect a poor Distressed Woman, and suffer her not to be murdered in your presence.  
Don Bernardo entreated her to have Patience, and told her she needed not fear any danger would happen to her, so long as he had a Life to lose in her Defence, then ●…e desired Don Francisco to walk down, ●…nd hear what the Lady's Brother had to ●…ay; which accordingly he did: then Don Bernardo called for his brace of Pistols (which were ready charged) and laid ●…hem on the Table, commanding his Men to be ready with their Swords if there should be Occasion: Dorila seeing these Preparations, shaked like an Aspenleaf, and the Lady Evadne, fearful of some ill success, trembled much more; but Don Bernardo being of a cheerful Courage, comforted her up, with great Expressions of his Fidelity towards her.  
In the mean time, Don Francisco, found Don Marcellus at the Door, who after having complemented one another, Marcellus said, Sir, I beseech you, (for this is the Custom of Italy,) to honour me with your Company to that Church over against us, for I have a Secret to impart to you, which my Life and honour depends upon; Sir, I am very ready to wait on you (replied Don Francisco:) so walking over to the Church, they chose out at a place where none could hear 'em, and Marcellus began his Relation in these Words:  
Noble Spaniard, my Name is Marcellus Barbarino, so well known to others, that I need not sound a Trumpet in my own Praise; I have for some years since continued an Orphan, and had left to my Care one only Sister, to whom for Beauty Nature has been so Bountiful, that it is beyond the power of Art to delineate it; to deal ingeniously with you, there is not a Beauty, take it all together, that can equalise it; her youthful and tender years, made me careful in the keeping so rich a Jewel, but the imprudent will of my Sister Evadne (for that's her Name) hath defrauded all my Preventions.  
The Duke of Milan, with Lynx's Eyes overcame those of Argos; outwatched my Vigilancy, and overpowr'd my Industry; for he not only enticed my Sister, taking her out of a Kinswoman's House by Night, but is (as it's reported) newly delivered of a Child by him; it was late ere I had notice of it, and this very Night I went in search of him and found him out, but in the Battle some Angel stepped in to Assist him, and would not permit me to fetch out the stain of my Honour with his Blood. My Kinswoman informed me, that the Duke had deluded her under the promise of Marriage, and Allurements of the Sweet Name of Husband: Thus being bereaved of a Sister, and my Honour, I have until how locked up my Bosom, and was not willing to declare my mind, till I could find but a speedy Remedy.  
My Resolution is now to go to Milan, ●…nd require of the Duke full Satisfaction, ●…ither by Marrying my Sister, or dispute ●…t with his Sword. In which Journey and Enterprise, (Noble Sir) I would desire ●…our good Company, being so well assured ●…f your Courage, that good Fortune will ●…ot be wanting in any of your Proceed●…ngs. I was unwilling to acquaint any Relations with this Design, lest they ●…hould frustrate my Intentions; but from ●…ou (dear Sir) I have a greater Confi●…ence of Encouragement in the pursuit ●…f it, than any Dissuasion to the con●…ary.  
Sir (replied Don Francisco) I am sorry ●…or the Occasion, but am glad of having ●…he opportunity of serving one of so mag●…animous a Soul; from this time I dignify ●…y self your Defender; and take to my ●…harge, either the Satisfaction or Revenge ●…f your Honour, and since the Gods are ●…ur Judges we need not fear partiality, for ●…e Justest Sword will be the sharpest, and ●…d therefore the conquered will be esteemed Guilty. Now (Sir) all that remains, is, that you resolve upon the time, which, I think, the sooner the better, for the Iron is to be wrought while 'tis hot; the heat of Choler increases Courage, and an Injury whilst it is fresh, rouses up Revenge.  
Don Marcellus hearing these Words, arose from his Seat, and embraced Don Francisco in his Arms: Sir, (said he) having so Generous a Breast as yours is, it will be needless to use Motives, by setting before you any other Interest, than that of Honour; the gaining of which, in this Enterprise, shall be wholly yours, if Fortune be not wanting to give us Success; and for our Journey, if it stands with your Conveniency, to Morrow Morning will be a proper time, for I shall be able to day to provide all things necessary.  
Your time shall be mine, (replied Don Francisco) only give me leave Signior Marcellus, to Impart this to a Friend and Companion of mine, a Gentleman, whose Valour, and Silence, you may as well build upon as mine. Since you have taken my Honour to your charge, (replied Marcellus) I know you will Impart it to none, but what are as Judicious as yourself; and this Gentleman being a Friend and Companion of yours, I should be much wanting in my Respects, if I declined so great a Favour; for that Person must needs be happy, who is worthy of your Acquaintance; and good Fortune must needs attend him, whom you are pleased to style your Friend and Companion.  
Then they embraced each other, and took their leave, Marcellus telling him he would send one next Morning to call him, and so take Horse without the City, that there might be no notice taken of their Journey: After this Don Francisco went home, and acquainted Don Bernardo, and the Lady Evadne, of what had passed between Marcellus and himself, and of the Resolution they had made of taking their Journey next Morning.  
Dear Sir, (said Evadne) your kindness is very great, and as great your Confidence: How suddenly have you engaged yourself in an Affair so full of Inconveniences? How are you certain, Sir, whether my Brother will lead you to Milan, or convey you to some other place, the better to accomplish his Designs of Revenge? But wheresoever you go, you may be assured, my best Wishes go along with you; though I confess myself a Wretched, and Unfortunate Woman, which am afraid of every shadow; yet my Timorousness is the more excusable, since my Life, or Death depends upon the Duke's Resolution. Who knows but Fury in 'em both may rage to that height, that nothing but Blood can Expiate the Wrong? And Sir, you cannot choose but think, that your Absence will create in me a strange Suspense, expecting every hour between Hope, and Fear, either the welcome, or unwelcome News of your Success. Do I so little love the Duke, or my Brother, that I dread not the Misfortunes of 'em both, and feel the Anguish of a double Event lie heavy on my Mind?  
Raise not your Fears (said Don Francisco) Madam, to that pitch, but leave some place for hope: Trust to my Care and Conduct in this Affair, and I make no question, but all things will end in a happy Union; our going to Mill●…n is not to be excused, neither can I decline assisting your Brother: We are yet ignorant of the Duke's Intentions, neither do we believe he knows of your Flight from your Kinswomans' House: But perhaps, we may have a very fair Account from his own Mouth, and no Man can better give a Relation of it than himself; and (Madam) I must deal plainly with you, I have that equal Honour and Friendship for the Duke and your Brother, that Duty binds me to be Careful and Vigi●…lant for both their Safeties.  
The Gods protect you (said Evadne) and give you that good opportunity of bringing your Affairs to a happy Issue, and ●…me a thankful acknowledgement for all Favours received from you in this my Extremity: For had I not been so fortunate as to have met with this high Civility at your Hands, I must have remained the most Unfortunate; but Thanks to your Goodness, which led you to so much Charity and Pity, as to Relieve the Distressed: However Fears may assault me in your Absence, or Hope hold me in Suspense, yet methinks 〈◊〉 long now to see you gone, and as quickly to see you return; that I may receive the welcome News of your Prosperous Success.  
Don Bernardo approved well of the Design, and thanked Don Francisco for recommending of him to Don Marcellus; assuring him he would accompany them in their Journey, not knowing what might happen, but perhaps they might have occasion for a third Person; so, for fear of the worst he would be ready to see how Affairs went, and to prevent all unjust Proceedings.  
It is not requisite (said Don Francisco) the Lady Evadne should be left alone; no●… to make Signior Marcellus suspect, that I wanted Courage to perform my Promise, and Resolution: The Respect I have for the Lady's Safety (replied Don Bernardo) shall not be wanting; whatever Enterprise you engage in, you must allow me a Participation; therefore abandon all Excuses, or else disannul our Friendship: My Intention is to follow you at a distance undiscovered by Don Marcellus; and (I presume) the Lady Evadne will not be displeased at it; and I am confident Dorila will be so careful, that there will be nothing wanting in our Absence towards her Accommodation.  
I shall be so far from resenting your Departure, (said Evadne) that it will be rather a satisfaction to me, that you accompany one another; and I should be guilty of breaking the Bonds of Friendship, if I should interceded to the contrary: Besides, Sir, (speaking to Don Francisco) who knows what danger you may be exposed to, that may require Don Bernardo's Assistance. Then taking out of a little Cabinet which stood by, two rich Jewels, she presented one to Don Francisco, and one to Don Bernardo, desiring them to accept them as small Remembrances for those many Favours she had received at their Hands: but they modestly returned them, and told her they would not hazard so great a Treasure in the Enterprise they were going to undertake: So recommending of her to the care of Dorila their Woman, they humbly took their leave.  
Dorila used her Industry and Diligence in waiting on Evadne, wondering at her Master's Journey, but was ignorant where they went, and about what business; the next Morning Don Marcellus came betimes to the door, and found Francisco ready prepared for the Journey, handsomely Accoutred, with his rich Hat, but the Hatband he covered with Cyprus, the better to conceal it: So walking out of the City into a Garden, a remote place, they took Horse, and taking Bye-Paths, they went towards Milan.  
Don Bernardo upon a fine Nag, and in a good riding Suit followed after 'em at a distance; but he perceiving they espied him, especially Don Marcellus, resolved to take the direct way to Milan, not questioning but there he should meet with them: They had scarce gone out of the City, but Evadne had given Dorila an Account of all Transactions, concerning the Duke and herself; not concealing the occasion of her Master's Journey, or her Brother Don Marcellus his Resolution.  
Dear Madam (said Dorila) I perceive the danger you are in is greater than you are sensible of, which if not speedily prevented may utterly prove your ruin: If you please (Madam) to receive my Sentiments, I don't believe Signior Marcellus your Brother is gone to Milan; but rather that he has decoyed them from home, whereby he may accomplish his designs in taking away your life: Pray (Madam) consider how slightly we are guarded, if any such black design should evidently appear, how weak and poor an Opposition could be made; we have only three raw Pages left behind, and what Courage, or Skill can they use in your defence? Indeed (Madam) I have too high a respect to delude you with Flattery, for my Heart Prophetically tells me of the ruin which threatens this House, and for a speedy Remedy I will employ my Life in your Preservation.  
Evadne hearing Dorila's Arguments which she uttered with so much earnestness; and showed such Manifestations of Fear, that she was wholly possessed, all she had spoke was certainly true; so contemplating with herself, that if Don Francisco, and Don Bernardo should be Slain, her Brother might be entering the Chamber, and execute his Revenge: Being thus perplexed, she asked Dorila what Counsel she could give her to prevent this Storm, which she perceived was coming.  
Madam, (replied Dorila) there is an honest Curate of a Country Village, two Miles from Milan, whom I once did serve; he will do any thing for me that I can require, or is in his power to perform: If you please I will take care to find one out to carry us safe thither; and as for the Nurse which Suckles the Child, she will go along with us to the World's end: And admit, (Madam) that you should be found out it is more honourable for you to be in the House of an old Curate, than under the Roof of two Young Spanish Students. In Conclusion, she rendered such Reasons, that poor Evadne was willing to follow her Advice; and so in lesle than four hours, they had both of 'em got into a Wagon, together with the Nurse, and the Child; and without being heard of the Pages, set forwards of their Journey for the Village where the Curate dwelled; all which was done by the Persuasion of this foolish Woman Dorila.  
To defray the Charges of this Journey, Evadne would have given Dorila a Jewel to have Pawned, but she informed her, she could furnish her; for her Master, not long before, had paid her a Years Wages. Evadne having heard Don Francisco discourse, that he, and her Brother would not ride the direct Road to Milan, she gave order to the Waggoner to take the Common Road, the better to avoid 'em; bidding him drive leisurely, and she would reward him well for his pains.  
We will now leave them on their Journey, and return to Don Francisco and Don Marcellus, of whom it is reported, they had Information upon the way, that the Duke was not in Milan, but Bolognia: So leaving the Bye-Ways, they entered into the High Road, considering with themselves that the Duke must pass that way in his Return from Bolognia: They had not been long entered into the Road, but they espied a Party of Horse marching towards them: upon this Don Francisco persuaded Signior Marcellus to step aside out of the Road, for if the Duke should happen to be in the Company, he would entertain him with some Discourse, before he entered into Milan, if he saw a fit Opportunity: Marcellus approved of his Advice, and told him, he would leave the management of it to his Care.  
So soon as Marcellus was gone aside, Don Francisco slipped off the Cyprus which covered his Hatband, for some Reasons he had, which he afterwards declared: By this time the Horse drew pretty near, amongst them was a Woman upon a Brown Nag, and in a fair riding Suit with a Mask on, either for the better concealing herself, or for a Preservative from the Sun and Air. Don Francisco made a Halt whilst the Horse came up to him; as they drew near him, they viewed his Lively, and Spriteful Deportment, his Physiognomy, the Gallantry of his Garb, and the rich lustre of his Diamond Hatband, together with the proudness of his Horse; more especially the Duke of Milan, who was in the Company: he no sooner espied the Hatband, but presently apprehended it must be Don Francisco de Bazola, who rescued him from that great danger wherein he was surprised; so entertaining the verity of it in his Thoughts, he made up to him, and said after this manner, Noble Sir, if I call you Don Francisco, I hope I shall commit no Mistake, for your brave Deportment, and gentle Disposition, together with that Hatband, confirms me to be in the right.  
Sir, (replied Don Francisco) you are under no Mistake, for I never was yet guilty of any dishonourable Practices, whereby the concealing of my Name was found necessary, and since my Name has received that Honour to be known by you, I hope (Sir) you will inform me of the occasion, and make me so happy that I may remain no longer ignorant of yours, but that I may pay those Respects due to your Person and Quality.  
Signior Francisco, (replied the Duke) I am one who stands indebted to you for my Life, and one whom your Victorious Arm so lately did protect; and had not the Gods designed it, Death, at that time, had been my Portion: My Name is Alphonso, but more known by the Title of the Duke of Milan: The Duke had no sooner declared himself, but Don Francisco, with great Agility alighted from his Horse, the Duke with the same nimbleness, was as soon out of his Saddle, and took Don Francisco and embraced him in his Arms. Signior Marcellus from a far beholding these Ceremonies, dubious whether they were Actions of Kindness, or Anger, put immediately Spurs to his Horse, but in the midst of his Career, he took him up gently by degrees, and made a Halt, seeing the Duke, and Don Francisco Complementing each other. The Duke espying Don Marcellus, knew him at the first Sight, but had not the least Cogitation of his being so near him: he was somewhat amazed at it, and enquired of Don Francisco, whether he was of his Company: Yes, (said Don Francisco) and I will acquaint your Excellency with the occasion of it; so desiring the Duke to step a little aside out of the Road, he thus proceeded:  
Don Marcellus, whom your Excellency sees there, has a great Accusation against you, concerning his Sister the Lady Evadne, and the Relation was to this effect: That four Nights since, you conveyed her from his Kinswomans' House, and have deluded, and dishonoured his Sister; for which now he is come to demand satisfaction from you: All he expects (Sir) from you is, either by performing your Promise to her of Marriage, or to end the Dispute with your Sword; he has desired me to accompany him, and to be an Umpire in this Affair, or else his Second, which I have freely undertaken: Now (Sir) understanding from his own Words, the occasion of the late Animosity between you, I am well assured you were the Master of this Present you pleased to honour me withal, and to be the Donor of; and knowing likewise, that none could better be an Arbitrator in this Cause than myself, nor be more tender of your Excellency's Safety than I am, I was the more eager in the Prosecution of what I have undertaken: Now that (Sir) which I would desire of you is, That you would declare whether that be true which Don Marcellus alleges.  
Dear Sir, (replied the Duke) it is such an Invincible Truth, that I dare not deny it, though my Inclinations led me to it: But farther, I must speak in my own Vindication, I have neither deceived the Fair Evadne, nor conveyed her away; though I am not ignorant she is removed from her Kinswomans' House, but whither, I remain a Stranger at this time: I do here Vow the Lady Evadne to be my Wife, and if I did not publicly Celebrate those Nuptials, the Reason of it was, The Duchess my Mother was desirous to Match me to the Lady Livia, Daughter to the Duke of Ferrara; but my Mother being now more ready for Deaths Arrest, than for Life's Protection, I can now the better perform my Duty to the last Period of her Life, and after her Death, keep that Fidelity and Constancy I ever had for dear Evadne.  
I will instance to you some few Particulars of these grand Mistakes; the same Night you wrought my Deliverance, my Intention was to have Conducted Evadne safe to Milan; she was in that Month, which she was to bring forth that happy Issue the Gods had ordained her to be Mother of; now whether it were by reason of the Rencounter, or my own Negligence, I am dubious for when I went to her Kinswomans' House, I found at the Door Laurana her Maid, the Supervisor of our Contracts, Jocular Meetings, and Agreements: I enquired for her Lady, she answered me, she was newly gone, but had that very Night been delivered of a Son, one of the Fairest Creatures that ever Eyes beheld; and that she had given it to my Servant Giacomo. Laurana is here with me and Giacomo, but my Child and Evadne, are both missing. I have been two days in Bolognia ●…n search after 'em, but by all my inquiry I can receive no satisfactory account.  
Now, Sir, (replied Don Francisco) when ●…he Lady Evadne and the Child shall appear, ●…ou will receive 'em both as yours, the one ●…or your Duchess, the other as your Son? Most joyfully, (replied the Duke) as long ●…ched Ground receives the welcome Showers; for though I value myself as a Gentleman, yet I esteem myself more to be a Christian: The Lady Evadne's Virtues Merit a greater Title than I am able to dignify her with; and should that Glorious Sun but once appear, or my Mother's Days be expired, the World shall then be certified, that if I understood what it was to be a Lover, I also knew how to finish those Vows in public, which solemnly I made to her in Secret.  
This will be joyful News to Don Marcellus, (said Don Francisco) if your Excellency will permit him to be a sharer in it, and not be held any longer in Suspense. I much resent it, (replied the Duke) he has remained unhappy so long under a Mistake. Don Francisco being infinitely well ple●…, made Signs to Don Marcellus to advance towards 'em, who immediately Dismounted himself, not thinking of the good Fortune which attended him: The Duke met him with open Arms embracing him, and greeted him with the Name of dear Brother: Marcellus being surprised, scarce knew suddenly how to return an Answer to so loving a Salutation, and courteous a Reception: Thus while he was standing in Suspense, before he could recollect himself, Don Francisco applied himself to him in this ●…anner:  
The Duke (Signior Marcellus) has been pleased, out of his own Generosity, to declare, that his Affections for your Sister are so great, that nothing but the making of her his Wife, he hopes, will give full satisfaction; and what he avers here in private, he is ready to avouch at any time in Public; the Duke informs me, that four Nights since, he went to search away the Lady Evadne from your Kinswomans' House, to conduct her to Milan, and to wait for a Conjuncture in the cel●…brating his Nuptials, which he had deferred upon very good Reasons which he has imparted to me; his Excellency hath likewise acquainted me with the Rencounter he had with you: and morever, when he went for your Sister (the Lady Evadne) he met with Laurana her Woman, which is here in Company, who informed him, that it was not above an hour since her Lady Evadne had been delivered, and that she gave the 〈◊〉 to a Servant of the Duke's, that 〈◊〉 believing the Duke was there, went ●…ily out of the House, imagining that yo●…, (Signior Marcellus) had already 〈◊〉 of her Proceedings: however Laurana 〈◊〉 ●…ot the Child to the Duke's Servant, 〈◊〉 to another by Mistake: Evadne is concealed, and you reprehend the Duke: Now he declares, that wheresoever the Lady Evadne shall appear, he will receive her as his true and lawful Wife: Now Signior Marcellus, what can the Duke express more, or what more, in reason, can you desire, or wish for, than only the finding out of those two Rich, and Unfortunate Pledges?  
Don Marcellus throwing himself at the Duke's Feet, who hastily took him up: to whom Marcellus applied himself, Of your Dignity and Magnificence, (most Noble Sir, and dear Brother) my Sister, nor myself could never expect more from you, than what you have declared; first in equalizing her with yourself; and next, in ranking me in the number of your Friends and Alliance: With that the Tears fell from their Eyes; but considering it might portend weakness to manifest their Grief, they suppressed and wiped 'em away.  
Thus things stood, when Don Bernardo discovered himself; but drawing near he made a Halt for some little time; for though he knew Don Francisco, and Marcellus, he knew not the Duke; he could not tell what to do with himself, whether he should go on or retire: At last coming up to one of the Duke's Servants, he demanded of him whether he knew that Gentleman, which was with the other two, pointing to the Duke? He answered, It was the Duke of Milan; at which he was amazed, and knew now lesle what to do with himself than before; but Don Francisco put him out of this Perplexity by calling to him out of this Perplexity by calling to him by his Name; thereupon Don Bernardo alighted, seeing they were on Foot, and approaching near the Duke, received him with much Amity, as being Don Francisco's Friend and Companion.  
Then Don Francisco related to Bernardo, all which had passed between him, and the Duke; Don Bernardo was exceeding glad, and asked him, why he did not complete the Joy and Happiness of these Gentlemen, by informing them where the Lady Evadne, and her Child was? The Duke and Marcellus hearing them speak of Evadne and the Child, enquired of them, what they discoursed of: Gentlemen, not to hold you any longer in Suspense, (replied Don Bernardo) I am willing to be an Actor in this Tragicomedy, and to alter the Scene, by the Discovery of the Lady Evadne, and her Child, who are both safe at my Habitation▪ So they both repeated to them the ●…ole Story, of what has been before related▪ which gave the Duke and Marcellus great satisfaction: Then Marcellus embraced Francisco, and the Duke, Don Bernardo, returning then thanks for this happy News, and relinquishing them of their Fe●…rs.  
Then calling to Laurana, Evadne's waiting Woman, that delivered the Child to Don Francisco; she having taken notice of Marcellus, stood trembling and quakirg for fear; they asked her if she knew the Person, to whom she delivered the Infant? She replied no; but asked him if he were Giacomo? And he answered, yes, and upon that belief she gave it him: that's very true, said Don Francisco, and immediately you shut the Door, bidding me have a care of it, and see it safe kept, and return quickly back: I confess you are in the right, answered Laurana, shedding many a Tear; but the Duke bid her refrain, adding that now there was no Occasion of Mourning but Rejoicing; and since Fortune has been so favourable to us, I will not as yet enter Milan, but return back to Bolognia; for all these seeming Contentments are but as a shadow, till the seeing of Evadne, make them prove real; so unanimously they consented and presently turned about for Bolognia.  
Don Bernardo road away before, to prepare Evadne, that she might not be surprised, with any sudden Passion upon the unexpected coming of the Duke, and her Brother; but not finding of her he appeared the most dejected Man in the World; though when he saw that Dorila was wanting, he imagined that by her Diligence and Persuasions Evadne was missing. The Pages informed him that Dorila, was wanting the same day his Master Don Francisco, and he went; but as for the Lady he enquired for, they never saw her. Don Bernardo, was in great Distraction at this unexpected Accident, fearing the Duke would take them for great Liars and Impostures; or perhaps, imagine some great abuse, which might redound much to the prejudice of their Honour, and Evadne's Reputation.  
Whilst he was thus pondering and casting these doubts and scruples with himself, entered the Duke, Don Francisco and Marcellus, by Streets and Lanes unfrequented, having left the rest of their Equipage without the City, they at length came to Don Francisco's House, and found Don Bernardo sitting in a Chair, in a posture altogether Melancholy, and Pale as Death; what, are you not well? (cried Don Francisco) where's Evadne? How can it be expected I should be otherwise, (replied Don Bernardo) since Evadne is absent? Who with Dorila that we left to attend her, went away the same day which we did. Nor was Francisco the lesle surprised, when he heard this unfortunate News.  
In a word, they were all extremely troubled, full of ●…ares and various Imaginations, not knowing what to think; but whilst they were thus in their Distraction, there came a Page to Don Bernardo, who whispering him in the Ear acquainted him that Diego, Don Francisco's Page, had concealed a very handsome Woman in his Chamber, ever since his Master went, and did believe her Name was Evad●…e, for he had heard him call her so. Bernardo's trouble was now renewed afresh, and rather desired that Evadne should not be found at all, (knowing that she was one whom the Page had hid) than to find her in such a place; yet without being perceived, he went privately to the Page's Chamber, where finding the Door locked, and him gone out, with a low Voice he called, Lady Evadne, open the Door, and receive your Brother, and the Duke your Husband; to which, he heard a Voice from within answer, You need not jeer me, I am not so ugly; but that Dukes and Earls may come after me; but this it is to have to do with lousy Pages. I deserve indeed no better a reward. By which Words, Don Bernardo saw he was mistaken, and that she was not the Lady Evadne.  
While this passed, came Diego the Page, who posted presently to his Chamber, and finding Don Bernardo at the Door, he commanded the Key from him to open it, then falling down upon his Knees, he beseeched him, if his Master had not heard of it, that he would be pleased not to acquaint him with it; for he did confess he had committed a fault, and was sorry for what he had done; that she had been there three Nights, and he would now instantly put her out of the House. And what is this Woman's Name? said Don Bernardo, Sir, (replied the Page) it is Evadne.  
The Page who made this discovery (and who envied, Diego) came down, where the Duke, Don Francisco, and Marcellus, were talking of Diego. That Page yonder, said he, has kept up Evadne as close, like a Hawk in a Mew, and could have wished his Master had not come home so soon, that he might have taken his Pleasure of her three or four days longer. Marcellus overhearing this, asked him, what is that you say my Friend? Where is Evadne? Above (answered the Page.) The Duke had no sooner heard this, but like Lightning he flew up Stairs to see Evadne; so happening to go to the Chamber, where Don Bernardo was, he cried out; where art thou Evadne? Where is my Dearest Life? She that was wrapped up in the Sheet, with a maundering Voice, said here's Evadne, there's not so much harm done as you think there is, nor such a strange thing for a Woman to Lie with a Page, that you need make such a wonder of it. Marcellus being there, In a great fury took the Sheet by one of the Corners and pulled it off; discovering a Woman of no ill Aspect; who being abashed clapped her Hands before her Face, and made haste to reach her clothes to her, which served her instead of a Pillow. They saw she was a common Hackney of the Town: then the Duke demanded whether her Name was Evadne; she made him answer it was, and that she had Relations of very good Account, and Credit in the City, that would scorn to do what she did.  
The Duke was so vexed, that he almost imagined the Spaniards had put a trick upon him; but that he would not give way to the entertaining of so ill a Suspicion, he turned his back, and without speaking one word, Marcellus following him, they got to their Horses, and went their way, leaving Don Francisco and Don Bernardo more vexed than they; then they determined with all speed to use their utmost Endeavours in the finding out Evadne, and in satisfying the Duke of their Integrity. They put Diego out of the House, and dismissed him their Service, as a bold impudent Fellow, and turned that shameless Strumpet out of Doors.  
They went to Marcellus' House, to inquire after the Duke, who told them, that he made no stay at all but went directly for Milan, leaving order with him to make diligent search for his Sister; moreover, telling them the Duke was very well satisfied of their Fidelity, and that the Duke and himself did impute it only to Evadne's Timorousness; but they did hope in process of time she would be heard of.  
Thus they comforted themselves, not being willing to make enquiry after her by public Proclamation, but by some private means, in regard her being mist was known to none but her Kinswoman, and amongst those that did not know the Duke's Resolution, his Sister might run the hazard of her Reputation.  
The Duke being now upon his return to Milan, as good Fortune would have it, or rather Divine Providence had so ordered it, that he came to that Village, which the Curate belonged to, where was Evadne, the Child, the Nurse, and Dorila, the Plotter and Contriver of their Escape; they had given him an account of all the Proceedings, and desired his Advice and Counsel, what they were best to do.  
The Curate was a great Lover of the Duke, to whose House fitted and accommodated like that of a Clergyman, well to pass, the Duke used oftentimes to visit from Milan, and from thence went a Hunting. For he took great delight in the Curates Gravity and Discourse, so that the Curate was not troubled to see him there; but to see him so Melancholy, presently perceiving that his mind was overwhelmed with some extraordinary Passion. Evadne hearing the Duke was there, extremely resented his coming, being ignorant of the Occasion; thus being perplexed, and in a great Agony, fain she would have spoke with the Curate, but he being busy entertaining the Duke, he had not the leisure to Discourse with her.  
At length, said the Duke to him, Father, I must confess my Spirit is very much oppressed with Grief, and I do not intend this day for Milan, but will be your Guest; therefore, pray send one of your Servants to bid those which came with me, to make haste to Milan, this being done, there was immediately great Preparations made to entertain him. Evadne waiting for an opportunity to speak with the Curate, at last she sent for him, and holding him fast by both hands; O Father! said she, pray what is the Duke's Occasion of coming hither? Inform me, I beseech you, and if you can by any means, raise some Discourse concerning me, by that means you may discover whether his Intentions be real or false; this I entreat you to do according to your own Sagacity.  
The Curate replied, the Duke was very sad and pensive, but had not as yet declared the Cause: My advice to you is this, That you presently dressed up the Child, as rich as you can, and adorn him with your own Jewels, and those which the Duke gave you, then leave the rest to me; Evadne thanked him, and promised she would go immediately about what he had so well advised her. The Curate in the mean time, went forth, to entertain the Duke till Dinner was made ready, and as he was discoursing of divers things, the Curate humbly implored the Duke's Pardon, for taking that boldness upon him as to inquire into the Reason of his being so Melancholy; and with all, excusing it, that he had not assumed that Liberty to himself, had it not been so apparent to be seen.  
Father, (said the Duke) it is evidently to be seen that inward Passion will demonstrate itself in the Physiognomy of either Man or Woman, and the greatest of my Grief is that I cannot as yet Communicate it to any that can ease me of my pain; why (my Lord replied the Curate) were you in a Capacity to be merrily disposed, I could present to your Eyes one of the delightfullest Objects in the whole Universe, which is left to my Care and Conduct. That Man, (replied the Duke) would be very much void of Reason, who could have a Remedy applied to his Malady, and should refuse the taking of it; Therefore (Father) pray show me this piece of Curiosity you so much applaud, for I believe it must be some extraordinary Rarety.  
The Curate presently went to the Lady Evadne's Chamber, to fetch the Child, who was just made an end of dressing, very finely adorned indeed, with her Jewels, and looked very sweetly; so taking the Child in his Arms, he went to the Duke, beseeching him to look upon it: The Duke viewing of it, said, indeed it was a fine Child, and took it out of the Curates Arms and kissed it; then looking steadfastly on the Jewels, he knew they were the same he gave to Evadne; being full of Admiration, he asked the Curate whose pretty Child it was? and told him it was as fine as a young Prince.  
My Lord, (replied the Curate) indeed I done't very well know, but some Months since, a Gentleman of Bolognia brought it to me, and charged me to be very careful of him, and breed him up, according to his Quality, for he was a Noble Man's Child; there came likewise a Nurse to attend him, of whom I have enquired several times, if she knew the Parents, but she told me, she could not satisfy me in that particular; but if the Mother be as Fair and as Beautiful as the Nurse, she must needs be the flower of all Italy; now I have seen the Child (replied the Duke) I hope, Father, I may have that Liberty, of seeing the Nurse: Yes, (replied the Curate) your Highness may command it, I will immediately attend you to the Chamber where she is, for if the Child hath thus transported you which is but a Copy, what will the Mother not do which is the Original? The Curate would have eased the Duke's Arms, and have taken the Child from him, but he would not part with it till he had given it many Kisses. In the mean while, the Curate stepped a little before, to inform Evadne the Duke was coming to visit her, and desired she would be ready to receive him.  
Evadne being surprised with a sudden Passion, that there arose such fresh Colours in her Face, which were mighty becoming, and rather proved a Friend then an Enemy to her Beauty. The Duke was intent, and astonished at the sight of her, and Evadne throwing herself immediately at his Feet, would have kissed them; but the Duke, without saying one Word, gave the Child to the Curate, and went with great haste out of the House; which Evadne seeing, she turned about to the Curate, and being much amazed at this sudden Motion;  
Alas, Sir, (said she) has the sight of me so scared the Duke, that he cannot endure me in his presence? Am I grown so Odious, and deformed in his Eyes, that he Loathes and Abhors me? Hath he forgot those Obligations wherein he stands bound to me? Would he not vouchsafe to speak so much as one Word to me? Was his Son so Burdensome to him? Was he so weary with holding him, that he so quickly rather threw, than put him out of his Arms? To all which complaint, the Curate replied not a word, but wondering at the sudden flight of the Duke, for it seemed to him to be rather a flight than any thing else.  
But all this haste was made to no other end, save only to call Giacomo, whom he commanded to make all the hast he could to Bolognia, and bid Marcellus, and the two Spanish Gentlemen, Don Francisco, and Don ●…do, with all speed, and laying all Ex●…s aside, to meet him at the Curate's House. Giacomo was not slothful, but p●…ly put his Lord's Command in Execution; who being thus dispatched, the D●…ke presently returned back again where Evadne was, but found her weeping, upon which, the Duke took her in his Arms, and ad●…ng Tears to Tears, exchanged a Thousand Kisses on her Rosy Lips, but their Tongues were locked up in an Amorous silence.  
The Nurse and Dorila observing these Amorous Passages, leapt for Joy, and were transported with the Pleasure of seeing it. The Curate also bestowed a Thousand Kisses on the pretty Infant, which he had in his Arms. By this time the Curate's Dinner disturbed their close Embracements; but being at Dinner, Evadne gave th●… Duke an account of all that had happened to her, since she left her Kinswoman's House, and that Dorila a Servant of Do●… Francisco's persuaded her to come hither▪ and that she had served her very faithfully, and with a great deal of Respect. The Duke likewise recounted to her all that which had befallen him to this present.  
Some three days after came Marcellus, Don Francisco, and Don Bernardo, who were in great hopes the Duke had heard of the Lady Evadne: But Giacomo who was purposely sent for them, could not any ways acquaint them with the Business: the Duke went forth to receive them in a large Room, adjoining near to that where Evadne was: he did not show a Countenance of any Satisfaction at all, which made these new Guests to remain still sad and pensive, looking dejectedly upon one another; however, he des●…'d them to sit down: So ●…eating himself by them, he directed his Discourse to Marcellus.  
You know well, Signior Marcellus, that 〈◊〉 never did delude your Sister, the fair Evadne, you are not unacquainted of the ●…illigence I have used, for the finding of 〈◊〉 out, in order to the happy Union of 〈◊〉 ●…oth, according to those Vows I have ●…ten made to her; neither are you a Stran●…, that she appears not, and my word ●…ught not to be Eternal. I am in my ●…thful Years, and not so well grounded ●…d experienced in the World, as to avoid ●…ose Delights and Pleasures, which offer ●…selves very often to me; the self same ●…ction which made me promise to be Evadne's Husband, led me likewise, before 〈◊〉 p●…st my Word unto her, to promise Mar●…ge to a Country Girl, a Farmer's Daugh●… in this Village, whom I thought to 〈◊〉 put off, that I might have applied my 〈◊〉 to Evadne's Worth, though not to 〈◊〉 which my Conscience dictated to me, ●…ch was no small Manifestation of my 〈◊〉 Love; but since no Man Marries a 〈◊〉 which is Invinsible, and that it does 〈◊〉 stand with reason, that a Man should 〈◊〉 seek after a Wife that forsakes him, there is no reason I should stay for Evadne that flies me: I say this (Sir) that you may see how willing, and ready I am to give you satisfaction. And thus I have demonstrated to you, that I never did, o●… had any intention of doing you the leas●… Injustice, or Injury: And therefore, 〈◊〉 would crave that leave of you, that 〈◊〉 may comply with my first Promise to Mary this Country Maid which is here in th●… House.  
Whilst the Duke was making this Speech Marcellus' Countenance changed very often, and was very restless; which we●… evident Proofs and Tokens of Passion, taking possession of his Senses: Don Francisco, and Don Bernardo were much disturbed: The Duke then reading their Mind in their Faces, he desired Marcellus to b●… patient, and enjoined him not to retur●… him one word in answer; for (continue●… he) I mean to show you the beauty of tha●… Person, whom I intent to make my Wife not doubting, but it will oblige you t●… gratify my desires, for it is such, and s●… powerfully Charming, that it will easil●… excuse me for far greater Errors: Whe●… the Duke was risen, and gone from ' e●… they all consulted together, and Don Francisco told Marcellus, he thought the Duke's Request was very unreasonable, and that he ought to give some seasonable time for the finding out of the Lady Evadne.  
While they were thus debating this business, from out of a Room just before 'em, came Evadne, led betwixt the Curate and the Duke; after them followed Laurana, Evadne's Woman (the Duke having sent for her to Milan); then the two Nurses, and Dorila, which belonged to the two Spanish Gentlemen: When Marcellus saw his Sister, and had taken a full view of her, and knew that it was she, stumbling for ha●…, he went and threw himself at the Duke's Feet, who took him up, and placed him in his Sister's Arms, who embraced him with all possible Demonstrations of Joy. Then Don Francisco, and Don Bernardo, told the Duke, that he had put upon 'em the most discreet, and most pleasing deceit in the World.  
The Duke took the Child which Lau●…ana brought in her Arms, and giving it to Marcellus, Here Brother (said he) take your Nephew, and my Son, and see now whether you will give me leave to Mary this Country Lass, who is the first that ever I plighted my Faith to: It were endless to repeat Marcellus' Replies; what Don Francisco asked him, what Don Ber●…rdo thought, the rejoicing of the Curate, the Joy of Laurana, the Content of the Adviser, Dorila, the Admiration of Giacomo, and the Nurse: And in a Word, the general content of all.  
The Curate forthwith Married them; Don Francisco was the Father that gave her; and amongst them all it was agreed upon, That those Nuptials should be concealed▪ till they had received the News of the Duchess his Mother's Death, who was now almost spent, by reason of her long Sickness, that in the mean time Evadne should return with her Brother to Bolognia.  
But the Duchess shortly after died, and Evadne entered into Milan rejoicing the City with her Fair Presence; Mourning Weeds were turned into Gay and Rich clothes; the Nurse, and Dorila were liberally rewarded; Laurana was Married to Gi●…como; Don Francisco, and Don Bernardo, were wonderfully well conte●…ted, that it had been their good Fortune to have been any way serviceable to the Du●…, who offered them two of his near Ki●…women to be their Wives, with exceeding ●…ich Dowries. But they told him, the Gentlemen of Biscay, for the most part, Married in their own Country; and that not out of any scorn, but to comply with that commendable Custom, and the Will of their Parents, who had already provided Wives for them, they could not except of this his most Noble Offer.  
The Duke admitting of their Excuse, however sought all Generous Opportunities to send them Presents to Bolognia, which were very considerable. The Duchess gave also one of her Jewels to Don Francisco, and another to Don Bernardo; who when they saw all their Modest Refusals would not serve, they with unwilling willingness received them. Evadne was visited very often at Milan, by most of the great Ladies; among whom her Transcendent Beauty, and Incomparable Virtues, made her shine with as much Superiority, as a Star of a greater Magnitude exceeds in Splendour the lesser Luminaries; and the Duke grew every day more Enamoured of her than ever.  
Sometime after, Don Francisco, and Don Bernardo, returned into their own Country, where they were Married to Rich, Noble, and Beautiful Young Ladies; continuing still their Correspondence with the Duke, and the Duchess, and with Signior Marcellus Barbarino, with all the Love and Amity in the World.   

THE Generous Lover A NOVEL.  
O the Lamentable Ruins of Unhappy Nicosia! The Blood of thy Valiant and Unfortunate Defenders, being yet scarce dry! if (as thou art insensible of it) thou hadst any feeling at all in this Disconsolate Condition wherein now we are, we might jointly bewail our Misfortunes: It would help to ease me in some manner of my torment, to find a Companion of my Sorrows, and make that burden of my grief the lighter, which now I find so heavy (I had almost said insupportable) for me to bear: But however, there is some hope yet left thee, that these thy strong Towers demolished, and laid levelly with the ground; thou mayest one day behold them, (though not in so just a posture of defence, as when they were overthrown) erected to their former Beauty and Strength.  
But I, of all Unfortunate, (the most unfortunate of Men.) What Felicity can I hope for in that▪ wretched Consternation wherein I now find myself? If I should return to the same Station wherein I was, before I fell into this, such is my Misfortunes, that when I was free, and at liberty, I knew not what Happiness was; and now in this my Captivity I neither have, nor can hope for it.  
These Words did a Christian Captive utter, looking with a sad, and mournful Countenance from the rising of a Hill upon the ruined Walls of lately lost Nicosia. Thus did he discourse with them, and compared his Miseries with theirs, as if they had been able to understand him: The common, and proper condition of afflicted Persons, who being violently carried away with their own Imaginary Conceptions, both do, and say those things which are beyond all Reason, without either Study or Consideration.  
Whilst he was thus Complaining to himself, from a Pavilion pitched in the Field, not much distance from him, came out a Sprightly Turk, a Young Man of a Noble Presence, and with an Ingenious Aspect, accompanied with Briskness and Courage, answerable to his Physiognomy; who drawing near to the Christian, without much Ceremony, yet in a kind, and civil manner; Sir, (said he) I durst lay a Wager with you, that those Pensive Thoughts, which I read in your Face, have brought you hither: You read aright, answered Gasparino, (that was the Captives Name) such Thoughts as those have brought me hither indeed: But what does it advantage me? Since wherever I go, I am so far from procuring any Peace, that I cannot obtain so much as a Truce, or the least Cessation of my Sorrows: Nay, rather these Ruins, which from hence discover themselves, have rather increased my Pains. Those of Nicosia you mean, (replied the Turk?) I mean none else, (answered Gasparino) but those which here offer themselves to my View. You have great occasion (quoth the Turk) to weep, if you entertain your Thoughts with such Contemplations; for they who but two years since had seen this famous and rich Island of Cyprus in its Prosperity, and peaceable State; the Inhabitants thereof enjoying all that Human Happiness and Felicity, Heaven could afford, or themselves desire, and now should behold them banished from it, or made miserable Slaves within it, could not have such Impenetrate Hearts, as to forbear bewailing their Calamity.  
But let us leave discoursing of things, that are not to be remedied, and come to your own Bosom Sorrows, for I long to know if they be such as you express them to be; and therefore, I earnestly entreat, nay Conjure thee, by that which thou owest for those Services I have done thee, the good Will I bear, and the Love I have shown thee, seeing we are both of the same Country, and bred up in our Childhood together, to deal freely with me, and acquaint me with the cause of this thy Melancholy: For though Captivity alone be sufficient to afflict the stoutest Heart in the World, yet I imagine the Current of your Disasters has a deeper Bottom.  
For Generous Minds (such as thine is) do not use to render up themselves to common Misfortunes, in such a measure, as to make show of Sorrows so extraordinary; which I am the rather induced to believe, because I know that Poverty is not so much your Master, but you may pay your Ransom upon reasonable terms; nor are you immured up in the Towers of the Black Sea as a Prisoner of Note, or Captive of Consideration, who late, or never obtains his desired Liberty: For which Reason your ill Fortune has not yet deprived your hopes of seeing yourself set free; and therefore when I see thee so much overcharged with Grief, and making such doleful Lamentations, I am forced to believe, that the pain proceeds from some other cause than thy lost Liberty, which I entreat thee to discover to me, upon the faithful promise of all the assistance I am able to afford thee. Who knows, but that Fortune in her Wheeling hath brought this about, that I should, Proteus like, be clad in this Habit, which I so much abhor, to the end I may be serviceable to thee?  
Thou knowest already, Gasparino, that my Master is a chief Minister in this City; thou likewise knows the great Sway which he bears here, and how much Interest I have in him; together with this, thou art not ignorant of the servant desire I have not to die in this State, which I thus seem to profess; for my own Heart can testify, if ever I should come to the Test, I am resolved openly to confess the Christian Faith, from which my few Years, and lesle understanding, separated me: From all this that has been said, I leave it to thyself to infer the Conclusion, and to consider seriously, whether my proffered Friendship may be useful to thee.  
Now, that I may know what Remedy thy Misfortune requires, it is requisite thou shouldst recount it to me; the Relation of it being as necessary for me to hear, as the Rich Patient's mind to his Physician: And I assure thee by all the Fidelity that belongs to Friendship, to secure it in the deepest Silence. To all these Words of his, Gasparino gave an attentive Ear; though his Tongue was silent, and seeing himself obliged by those kind Expressions, and his own necessity, returned this Answer:  
My dearest Pyrrhus, said he, (for so was this Turk called) if as thou hast conjectured aright at my Misfortunes, thou couldst prescribe as well the Remedy, I should think myself happy in my lost Liberty, and would not change my State for the greatest Felicity imaginable; but I understand well the Cause is such, that all the World may take notice whence it proceeds; though that Man is not to be found who dares undertake to find out a Remedy, much lesle to give me the least Relief; and that thou may'st be informed of the verity of my Discourse, I will relate as briefly as I can, the Cause of my Woes; but before I enter into this confused Labyrinth of my Miseries, I would first desire thee to acquaint me with the Cause, why Bazon Bashaw hath pitched here in this Field these Tents and Pavilions, before he makes his entry into Nicosia, being deputed to be Viceroy or Bashaw there.  
I will, (said Pyrrhus,) answer your demands in a few Words; and therefore you must know, that it is a Custom among the Turks, that they who come to be Viceroys of some Province, do not immediately enter into the City where their Predecessor resides, till he departs out of it, and leaves the Place free to his Successor. For when the new Bashaw has made his Entrance, the old one stays without in the Field, expecting what Accusations shall come against him, and what Misdemeanours (during his Government) they shall lay to his Charge; which being alleged and proved, are recorded, and a note taken of them; now the other being settled in his Residence, he gives to him that leaves his Charge, a Scroll of Parchment sealed up very close, and therewith he presents himself at the Gate of the Grand Signior; which being seen and perused by the Visier Bashaw, and by those other inferior Bashaws, they either reward or punish him according to the Relation that is made of his Behaviour. For this Reason, thy Master Bazon Bashaw has remained in this Field four days, but he of Nicosia is not as yet come forth, having been very sick; but being now upon the mending hand, he will without fail come forth, either to day or to morrow at the farthest, and is to lodge in certain Tents which are pitched behind this rising Hill, which as yet thou hast not seen, and thy Master is forthwith to enter the City. Thus much to your first Question; now in the Prosecution of my promised Relation.  
But let me first ask you, whether you know in our Town of Trepana a Virgin, to whom Fame hath given the repute of being the fairest in all Sicily; in whose praise the most transcendent Wits have expressed themselves, and of whom the most Judicious have concluded, that she was the perfectest Pattern of Beauty, that the past Age had, the present has, and that which is to come, can hope to have. Nature indeed had bestowed on the whole composure, every thing so perfect, that envy itself could not tax her in any one particular.  
And it is possible (Pyrrhus) that all this while thou hast not told me, yet who she ●…s, nor her Name? I verily believe, either ●…ou dost not lend an Ear to me all this while, or when thou wast in Trepana thou ●…ert senseless. Pyrrhus replied, That if she whom he had set forth, with such incom●…arableness of Beauty, were not Graciana ●…e Daughter of Pisaura Sorescos, he knew ●…ot who she could be, for that she alone ●…ad all that fame to attend her he had spoke 〈◊〉.  
'Tis she, Pyrrhus, (replied Gasparino) 'tis ●…he (my dearest Friend) who is the princi●…al cause of all my Felicity, and Misfortune. 'Tis she, and not my lost Liberty, for whom ●…y Eyes have shed so many numberless Tears. 'Tis she, for whom my Heart is ready to ●…urst with continual sighing. 'Tis she, for ●…hom my Complaints weary the Gods by ●…y Invocation, and the Ears of those which ●…e my Auditors. 'Tis she, for whom thou ●…ook'st me to be Distracted, or at least, for 〈◊〉 man of low Esteem, and lesle Courage. 'Tis Graciana, to me a Tygress, but to ano●…her, Affable, and Courteous: She it is ●…hat keeps me in this Wretched, and Mise●…able Estate.  
For you must understand, that from my Minor Years, or at least, ever since I gave place to Reason, I not only Loved▪ but did Adore her, and kneeled to her Devotion as to a Deity; her Parents knew my Addresses were designed to a Vertuo●… Intent; for many a time have they acquainted Graciana with that Ardent Love, and Affection I bore to her, and have often i●…portun'd her to grant me a kind Acceptation.  
But she who had placed her Eyes on Hippolito the Son of Moronio de Corisea, (who●… you know very well, a Young Spark, Ne●… and Spruce, Lily white Hands, and Cu●…led Locks, a Charming Tongue, and Am●…rous Expressions, composed of Civit, Mu●… and Amber Grease, Gay clothes, and a Pleasant Deportment) would not so much 〈◊〉 bestow one Glance of her Eyes on me, w●… had not altogether so pleasant a Coun●…nance as Hippolito; nor vouchsafe to ente●…tain with the least Grain of Gratitude m●… best Endeavours to please her, my man and continual Services, but still require them with Disdain and Hatred; and to su●… Extremes did the Excess of my Love brin●… me, that I should have rendered my s●… happy, had her Disdains, and Cruelty put a Period to my Life, that I might no●… have been Witness of her conferring such open, though truly modest Favours upon Hippolito. Consider now, being thus tormented with Disdain and Hatred, and almost mad with Rage, and Jealousy, in what a miserable case my Soul was, while two such Mortal Plagues were reigning there! Graciana's Parents concealed those Favours she bestowed on Hippolito; thinking that he, attracted by her most Exquisite, and Incomparable Beauty, (which indeed was matchless) would propose a Contract, and so in him acquire her a Richer Husband, and perhaps he might be so: But I dare be so presumptuous to declare, (without any Ostentation) that my Birth, and Quality is no ways inferior to his; and for his mind, it cannot be nobler furnished than mine; neither can his Valour, if once called in question, gain the Victory: But that indeed which over-balanced me, was Graciana's Favour, and her Parents promoting of the business, which only made the Scales uneven, by their inclining to Hippolito.  
Now it so happened, that persisting in the pursuit of my Pretensions, I had intelligence, that one day in the Month of May, last passed; Graciana, her Parents, and Hippolito, accompanied with their Kindred, Friends, and Servants, to make merry in Moronio's Garden, near adjoining to the Sea, towards the Salt Pits. I know the place well, (said Pyrrhus) go on Gasparino, I was more than four days in one, but I could have wished I had not been there four Minutes. I knew that, (replied Gasparino) and at that very moment that I understood it, my Soul was possessed with such a Fury, such a Hell of Jealousies, that it bereft me of my Senses; as you may perceive by my following Relation.  
I hasted to the Garden, where I was informed they were, I found most of the Company very pleasant, and Hippolito, and Graciana sitting under a Walnut Tree, at some distance from the rest: How pleasant an Object I was to 'em, I am yet to learn; but the sight of her wrought so upon me, that I stood like a Statue without either Sense, or Motion; but I continued not long in that Ecstasy, before my Anger roused my Passion, and Rage gave Motion to my Hands and Tongue: I confess, my Hands at present were bound by the respect which was due to that fair Face, which I had in view, but my Tongue breaking Silence, I uttered all that a Rejected Lover, or Passion could invent.  
But all I did say, could not move Hippolito to displace himself, but sat looking on me as one amazed, not offering once to rise; yet my Voice was so loud, and my Expressions so sharp, as occasioned those which were walking in the Garden to draw near; who hearing the revengeful Language I gave my Rival, came in to his assistance; and then all Drawing upon me, there began a most furious Combat between us: I valued not their number, but encountered them with such an Undaunted Courage, that I Wounded seven or eight, and put Hippolito to his Flight; at the same time Graciana affrighted at this Engagement, fell into a Swoon, which, as it reinforced my Courage, so it enraged my Enemies the more to Revenge, which it had been impossible for me to escape, had not Fortune provided a Remedy worse than the Disease; for on a sudden there rushed into the Garden a great number of Turks, Pirates of Viserta, who with two Galleys, had put into a little Creek of the Sea, between two Rocks hard by the Shore, where they Landed, without being heard, or seen by the Sentinels of the Watch-Towers, or discovered by those Scouts, whose daily office it was to scour the Coasts, and see that all was clear. When my Antagonists espied 'em, leaving me alone, they swiftly ran away, and shifted so well for themselves, that they got safe out of their danger, so that of all the whole Company, the Turks took no more Captives, but only three Persons besides myself and Graciana, who lay there still in a swoon. I defended myself and Graciana, as long as strength would permit me, till at length being wounded in four places, and having killed four upon the place, I was constrained, as the stoutest Heart must to his Fortune yield.  
The Turks with their accustomed Diligence, having got as much as they could, though not very well pleased with the Success, made haste to embark themselves, and presently put out to Sea, so that what with their Sails, and help of their Oars, in a short space they recovered Fabiana; where they mustered their Men, and finding they had lost four of their best Soldiers, Levant-men (as they call them) they were the more willing to take their revenge of me; and therefore the Admiral of the Captain-Galley commanded them to hang me up at the Main-yard's Arm. Graciana beholding the speedy Preparations for my Death, gave the Captain of the Galley to understand that I was a Person of Quality; and that if he did not spare my Life, he would certainly lose a considerable ran●…om, and therefore advised him to tack a●…out again for Trepana, whence his ransom Money would soon be brought him aboard. This was the first and the last Kindness which Graciana showed me, and all for my greater Injury. The Turks hearing what Graciana had reported, easily believed her; and this their hope of profit turned the Course of their Malice. The next Morning, hanging out a flag of Peace, they anchored before Trepana; as for the Night before, how I employed it, you may better conceive than I express; not so much for the care of my Wounds, but to think on the danger wherein my cruel Enemy was amongst those Barbarous People. Being come now well to the City, one of the Galleys entered the Haven, the other stood off. All the Citizens flocked to the Sea side, and amongst the rest was Hippolito, who stood ●…far off observing what passed in the Galley, whilst my Steward was treating with the Turks; but I had given him order not to ●…eat about my Liberty, but of Graciana's: and for her freedom to offer all I was worth, either in Lands, Goods, or Chattels, commanding him moreover to go on Shore, and acquaint Graciana's Parents, that they should leave it to him to treat about their Daughter's Liberty.  
The chief Captain who was a Graecian, but a Renegado, demanded for Graciana, six thousand Crowns, and for myself four thousand, declaring withal, he would not sell the one without the other. The setting so great a price, (as I understood afterwards) was, he was smitten with the Beauty of Graciana, and was therefore unwilling she should be redeemed. Graciana's Parents offered him nothing on their part, relying on the promise my Steward had made them, by my order; neither did Hippolito, make any Propositions towards her ransom. And so after many demands and Capitulations, my Steward concluded the Business, giving for Graciana five thousand Crowns, and for myself three thousand; the Captain accepted this offer, forced thereunto by the Persuasions of his Companion, and all the rest of his Soldiers; but because my Steward had not so much Money in cash, he desired only three days time, intending to sell so much of my Goods, till he had made up the sum. Rozak, (so was the Captain called) was glad of this, thinking in the mean while, to find some Occasion to break off the Bargain, and so sailed back again to Fabiana, with a promise to return at the end of three days, and to receive his Money according to Agreement. But it so unfortunately fell out at the same time the Turks discovered, from the main Topmast, six Italian Galleys, and guessed them, (as it was true) to be either of Malta or Sicily; so that the Captains immediately hoisting Sail, and turning their Prowess towards Barbary; in lesle than two hours lost the sight of those Galleys, and by the help of approaching Night, secured themselves from the danger that threatened them.  
Now I leave it to your good Consideration (Friend Pyrrhus) how much my mind was troubled in this Voyage, finding it to fall out so cross and contrary to that which I expected; and much more, when the next day the two Galleys reaching the Island of Pantanalea on the South part, the Turks went to get Wood, and fresh Victuals; but most of all, when I saw both the Captain's Land, and share between them all those prizes they had taken, which was to me a lingering Death: Rozak, gave to Ledalbo, (for so was the other Captain called) six Christians, four for the Oar, and two very Beautiful Boys, both Born in Corso, together with myself, that he might have Graciana for his own: 'Tis true I could not understand what they said, though I was not Ignorant what they did; neither had I known then the manner of their sharings, if Ledalbo had not come to me and told me in Italian; Christian thou art now mine, (as my Captive) rated at two thousand Crowns; if thou wilt have thy Liberty, thou must give me four thousand, or resolve here to end thy days. I then demanded of him whether the Christian Lady, were his? He told me, No, but that Rozak kept her for his own use, with Intention to make her turn Moor, and then marry her. Whereupon I promised him if he would bring the Business so about that the Christian Lady might become his Captive, I would give him ten thousand Crowns in good Gold for her ransom. He replied, it was impossible, but he would acquaint Rozak, with the great Sum which I offered for her Freedom; perhaps, said he, considering the profit he will reap by it, he may alter his purpose, and accept of the ransom. He did so, and then presently commanded all those of his own Galley to embark themselves as soon as possible they could, intending for Tripoli in Barbary, where he was born; Rozak likewise determined to go for Viserta; and so embarked with the same hast they used to do when they discover any Galleys which they fear, or Vessels which they think to be a prize; besides they saw the weather begun to change, inclining to a Storm.  
Graciana was on Land, but not where I might see her; save only at the time of her embarking, where we both met at the Seaside. This her new Lover led her by the hand, and setting her foot upon the Plank which reached from the Land to the Galley, she turned back to look upon me, though my Eyes were never off from her; looking upon her with so much tender Affection, and languishing so long, at length I was deprived of that little sense of seeing I had left, and fainted away; the like they afterwards told me befell Graciana, who dropped from the Plank into the Sea, where she had been drowned, but that Rozak leapt in after her, and brought her out in his Arms.  
But when I came again to my Senses, and saw myself alone in one Galley, and the other steering a contrary Course, and sailed out of sight, carrying away with them the one half of my Soul, or (to speak truth) all of it; new Clouds hovered over my Heart, and I began again to curse my Misfortune, and called aloud for Death to seize me: such and so great was the Lamentation I made, that it proved so offensive to my Master's Ears, that he threatened if I did not hold my Peace, he would severely punish me. Whereupon I suppressed my Tears, and smothered my Sighs: But froward Fortune, not contented to have brought me into this so narrow strait, took a course to overthrew all, by taking from me all hope of Remedy; for in an Instant, the storm we so much feared overtook us, and the Wind which blew strongly from the South, blew full in the Teeth of us; and began with such fury to reinforce itself, that we were forced to tack about, and suffer our Galley to go which way the Wind would carry her.  
Our Captain's Design was to have put into Some part of the Island for shelter, and more particularly, on the North part thereof; but it fell not out according to his Expectation, but rather, quite contrary to what he had designed; for the Wind blew so high, that within little more than Fourteen hours, we saw ourselves within two Leagues, or thereabouts, of the same Island, from whence we had put forth; and now there was no remedy for hindering our being driven upon it, amongst very high Rocks, which presented themselves to our view, threatening us with inevitable Death.  
We saw on the one side of us, that other Galley wherein was Graciana, and all their Turks, and Captive-Rowers labouring hard with their Oars, to keep themselves off as well as they could from running upon the same dangers. We used the same means in ours, but with better success; for they being tired out with their Voyage, and overcome by the stiffness of the Wind, and blustering storm, forsaking their Oars, and abandoning their own safety, suffered themselves to fall amongst the Rocks, against which the Galley dashing itself, was split in a thousand pieces.  
Night was then drawing on, and so great was the cry of those that gave themselves for lost; and the Consternation of those in our Vessel made aching Hearts, for that not any of those things our Captain commanded was understood or done by them; only they plied their Oars, allowing it for their best remedy, to turn the Prow to the Wind, and cast two Anchors into the Sea, to keep off Death for a while, which they expected every moment: And although the terror of dying was dreaded by all the rest, yet in me it was quite contrary; for flattering myself with the alluring hopes of having a prospect of her in the other World, who was so lately departed out of this; every minute that the Galley deferred its drowning, or splitting against the Rocks, seemed to me an Age of Pain: and yet I could not forbear, but cast my Eyes sometimes, upon the insulting Waves, to see whether I could espy floating upon those proud Billows, the Body of unfortunate Graciana.  
At length day appeared, but with the Symptoms of a much greater Storm than the former, at which time, we found our Vessel riding out at Sea, some distance from the Rocks; but having discovered a point of the Island, which we perceived might easily be doubled, both Turks and Christians, began to be cheerful, and with new Hopes, and new Hearts, falling with Courage to their work, in six hours we doubled the point, where we found the Sea more calm; insomuch that coming under the Lee of the Island, the Turks leapt out to Land, and went to see if there were any Relics remaining of the Galley, which the Night before fell among the Rocks; but even then neither would Fortune be so Favourable to me, as to grant me that poor Enjoyment which I hoped to have received, of having Graciana's Body in these my Arms; whom, though dead and bruised I should have thought myself happy to have embraced, thinking thereby to have mastered Fate, and linked myself to her though Dead, whose Life my Stars had utterly denied me. To which purpose, I entreated one of the Renegadoes to go on Shore, to view whether the rolling Sea had not cast her Body on the Land: But all in vain; for just at that very Instant the Wind began to rise, and the Sea grew rough, so that the shelter of that Island, was of no benefit to us.  
Ledalbo seeing this, would not struggle against Fortune, who before had so violently persecuted him; and therefore commanding his Men to fit the Galley, to bear little Sail, and to turn the Prow to the Seaward; while he himself took Charge of the Rudder, he suffered the Vessel to run through the wide-Sea; being well assured that no impediment would cross its Course; which made its way with that Swiftness, that in three Days and three Nights, passing in sight of Trepana, of Melazo and Paler●…o, we arrived at Tripoli in Barbary, where my Master fell Sick of a Pleurisy, attended with a burning Fever, in that violent manner, that in three days it sent him of an errand into the other World.  
The king of Tripoli seized presently upon all his Wealth, and I fell into the Hands of his Viceroy; and within fifteen days after he received his Commission for Cyprus, with whom I am here arrived, but do not intend to seek my Redemption, though he has often importuned me to it, (by Reason, Ledalbo's Soldiers had informed him of my Ability,) and wondering that a Person of my Quality should be so much wanting to myself, as not to entertain so good a motion. I gave him a slender answer, and only told him, that he had received a wrong Information; but know assuredly (Pyrrhus) I will never return back to that place which will prove my torment, and where Graciana's Death will in part, if not be wholly imputed to me.  
This (Pyrrhus) is my ill Fate, and the Occasion of these my Sighs and Tears. Graciana is dead, and with her are buried all my hopes; and though that which I had (whilst she lived) hung but by a slender Thread; yet, yet,— and then his Speech forsook him, whilst his Tears, which were numerous had eased his Passion; but having vented his Grief, and recovering himself, Pyrrhus promised him all the Kindness and Assistance that a true Friend could accommodate him withal. And to that end, assured him of his utmost endeavour so to contrive it, that they might be both Slaves to one Master; and that living both together, they might be the more serviceable one to another; for my Master (continued Pyrrhus) is Judge of this City, and none is his Superior in it; nor none more in his Esteem than myself.  
While they were thus discoursing, as luck would have it, they saw a great throng of People coming out of the City, occasioned by the old Viceroy's coming forth into the Field, to give place to Pyrrhus' Master. Here they left off any farther Communication for that time, and went to the Tents, just at that very Instant, as the old Basha●…▪ came thither, and the new one came forth to receive him at the Tent door. Hattem Bashaw, (for so was he called, that left the Government) came attended with janissaries (being the ordinary Garrison Soldiers in Nicosia, ever since the Turks were Masters over it) to the number of five hundred. They marched in two Divisions, the one with Muskets, and the other with drawn Scymeters. When they came to the Tent of the new Bashaw, Hazen, they were drawn round it; and when Hattem Bashaw approached the Entrance of the Tent, he made a low Reverence to Hazen, who with a lesle bowing of his Body congyed to him again.  
This being done, Hattem presently entered into Hazen's Pavilion: Then there was brought him a very stately Horse, richly Caparisoned, upon which he was mounted, and conducted round the Tents, and a great part of the Field, with loud Acclamations in their own Language; Long live Solyman Sultan, and Hazen Bashaw, his Viceroy; they repeated this very often, and then presently returned back to the Tent, where Hattem Bashaw remained all the while; and then with the Cadi, or judge, Hazen and Hattem, shut themselves up close for the space of an hour, to treat of the Affairs of the City. Within a little while after, the Cadi, or Judge of Causes, came forth to the Door of the Tent, and with a loud Voice in the Turkish, Arabic, and Greek Language: Declared, That all who had any thing to lay to the Charge of Hattem Bashaw, might have free ●…mittance: for there was Hazen Bashaw, whom the Grand Signior had sent his Viceroy into Cyprus, would do them all Right and Justice. Some Greek Christians, and some Turks entered to crave Justice; but their Charge was so slender, that the Judge dispatched them immediately, finding no grounds for their Complaints.  
In this Interim entered in an Officer, who gave the Bashaw notice, that there was a jew at the Tent Door, who had brought a most Fair and Beautiful Christian Virgin to be sold; the judge or Cadi commanded that she should be brought in: Upon which the Officer went forth, and presently returned, ushering in an Ancient jew, who led by the hand a Woman in a Barbary Habit; so richly attired, that the wealthiest Moor in Fez or Morocco was not able to compare with her; for throughout her whole Dress, she surpassed all the African Women, her Face was covered with a Sea●… of Crimson Taffeta: The small of her Legs, and her Arms, (which through thin Saroenet were easy to be seen) were adorned with Bracelets of Gold, wherein were set scatteringly, many fair Pearls and precious Stones. In Conclusion, the fashion of her clothes, and all other her Furniture, were such, that the Cadi or judge, and the two Bashaws, upon the very first sight of so much Grandeur, being mightily taken, before any other thing was said or questioned by them, desired the jew to take the Sea●…f from off the Christian's Face; But then such a splendour, such a Beautiful Countenance discovered itself, as dazzled the Eyes of all the Beholders.  
But he in whom this amazing Beauty, wrought the deepest Impression, was the sorrowful Gasparino, as one who better than any other knew her, she being his cruel and beloved Graciana, who so often, and with so many Tears, had by him been reputed, and deplored for dead. No●… was Gasparino the only Person that suffered Loves powerful Reign, but at the same time, the two Bashaws and the Cadi were equally smitten. And therefore, without questioning the jew, where or how he came by her, they only asked him, what he would take for her? The Covetous jew, replied, Two thousand Crowns; he had scarce set the price, but Hattem Bashaw proffered to give him his Money down.  
But Hazen Bashuw, who was resolved he should not have her though he ventured his Life; Well, (said he) and I will give the jew two thousand Crowns, which he demands; not that I would either give so much, or go about to circumvent Hattem, did not that enforce me, which were he as sensible of it as myself, he would not be so unjust as to condemn me; for this lovely Slave belongs not to any of us, but to the Grand Signior; and therefore, say I, I buy her in his Name; now let me see who dare be so insolent as to offer to take her from me.  
That dare I, replied Hattem, because for the self same end and purpose do I buy her; and it belongs more especially to me, to tender this present to the Grand Signior, by reason, I am taking my Voyage for Constantinople, and am provided with that conveniency for her safe conduct. And by that means, I may the better obtain the favour of the Grand Signior. Nay, rather, it will be better received from my Hands, (replied Hazen) to take Care of sending her to the Grand Signior, since I do it without any respect to my own private Interest, or Expectation of profit. And whereas you allege the conveniency of carrying her along with you; I will send her in a Galley of my own, well armed, and provided with a sufficient Convoy at my own Charges. At these Words, Hattem's Blood began to rise, so that laying his hand on his Scymeter, Hazen, said he, My Intentions are the same with yours, and she is mine, for I was the first that purchased her; therefore if thou thinkest to circumvent me, this Scymeter shall defend my Right, and chastise thy Presumption.  
The Cadi, who was attentive to all that had passed between them, and burned no lesle in Love's Flames than either of the other, fearing lest he should lose his Treasure; Hazen and Hattem, said he, let me entreat you both to lay aside these your differences, which I doubt not but to compose in such a manner, that both of you may effect your intentions, and the Grand Signior be sensible of both your Services. To these words of the judge, they showed themselves obedient. Hattem, you would have this Christian, (said the judge) for the Grand Signior; and Hazen says the like: You allege, That you were the first in offering the demanded price, Hazen contradicts you; and though he doth not enforce his Argument so home, yet I understand you both agree to buy the Slave for the same purpose; only you got the start of him, in declaring first; yet he ought not to be wholly defrauded of his intentions; and therefore in my opinion, let this business be thus accorded, Hazen shall pay two thousand Crowns, and Hattem shall lay down the other two thousand, and let the Captive remain in my power, to the end that I may send her in both your Names to Constantinople, that neither of you may remain unrewarded; for (as an Eye witness) I can c●…fie the forwardness of you both to gratify the Grand Signior; to which purpose I will send her at my own cost and charge, with that Equipage and Attendance, which is due to him, to whom she is sent.  
The two enamoured Bashaws neither could nor would contradict him; each of them forming, and imagining in his mind a hope (though doubtful) of promising to themselves the attainment of the end of their inflamed desires; Hazen, who was to continue Viceroy of Cyprus, thought to win the Judge by great Gifts, to deliver the Captive up to him, and Hattem having other projects in his Head, and both conceiting his own design the surest, they easily condescended to what the Judge propounded, and with a Joint consent delivered the Captive presently to him, and made present payment to the Jew of a thousand Crowns a piece; but then the jew would not part with her upon those terms, unless they would likewise purchase her wearing Apparel, and Jewels, which he valued at a thousand Crowns more. Upon which the C●…di or judge, that he might not show himself lesle Bountiful than the two Bashaws, promised to pay those thousand Crowns, thinking it proper to have her presented in the same dress (which she then wore) to the Grand Signior.  
When Gasparino saw all this, and that it was no Dream, he came to Pyrrhus, and wispering him in the Ear; Friend (said he) dost not thou know her? Not I, said Pyrrhus; then replied Gasparino, this is Graciana. How (answered Pyrrhus?) 'Tis very certain (replied Gasparino.) Peace then, replied Pyrrhus, for Fortune is now so ordering the business, that thou shalt find her Complaisant, since Graciana is in my Master's power. Gasparino would have put himself into some place to have been seen by her, but Pyrrhus would by no means permit him, for fear some sudden passion should overthrew his present hopes.  
Graciana being thus surrendered up to the Judge, he came to her and taking her by the Hand delivered her to Pyrrhus commanding him to convey her to his Lady Rodula, with orders to use her kindly, as being the Grand Signior's Slave. Gasparino seeing Pyrrhus lead her away, all alone, followed her as far as he durst; but having lost her, he went to seek out the jew; whom after he had found out, he civilly demanded of him where he had bought that Captive Christian; and by what means she came to his Hands. The Jew made him answer that he met with her in the Island of Pantanalea; and that he bought her of certain Turks, whose Galley had been split against the Rocks of that Island. And as he was proceeding in his discourse he was interrupted by one which came from the Bashaws to inform the Jew, That he must come immediately to 'em.  
Now as Pyrrhus waited on her between the Tents and the Town, he took occasion to ask Graciana, Whence she was, and where born; who made him answer, her Native place was in the City of Trepana: Then Pyrrhus questioned her whether she knew in that City, a Rich and Noble Gentleman called Gasparino? At her hearing him named, Graciana fetching a deed sigh, Too well Sir (said she) to my prejudice: How to your prejudice, Madam (said he?) Because he knew me (said Graciana) to his own, and my unhappiness. But I pray resolve me (said Pyrrhus) did you know in the same City another Gentleman, a very worthy person called Hippolito? I likewise knew him, replied Graciana, and I may say much more to my Grief than Gasparino.  
But, pray Sir, if I may be so bold to ask you, where had you this Intelligence? I am (said Pyrrhus) of Palermo, and by various accidents in this Disguise; and for Gasparino, and Hippolito, I know them well, in regard it is not many days, since they were both in my power; for certain Moors of Tripoli in Barbary had taken Hippolito Captive and sold him to a Turk, who brought him to this Island.  
But tell me Sir, how came Gasparino to this Island, he came (replied Pyrrhus) with a Pirate who took him Prisoner in a Garden, near the Sea shore of Trepana and with him a certain Virgin, but I could never get him to tell me her name. He stayed here some few days with his Master, who was to go and visit Mahomet's Sepulchre, but just at the time of his departure Gasparino fell so extremely Sick, that his Master left him with me, (as being his Countryman) that I might use all the best means I could for his Recovery, and take care of him till his return hither, and if he did not return hither, that I should send him to him to Constantinople, according to the advice I should receive from him.  
But the Gods had otherwise ordered it, since that, unfortunate Gasparino without any Symptom of a dangerous Sickness, within a few days ended his Life; making often mention of one Graciana, (whom as himself told me) he loved more than his own Life, and was as dear to him, if not dearer than his own Soul. Graciana (as he related to me) suffered Shipwreck at the Island of Pantanalea, the Galley wherein she was, being split upon the Rocks, and herself drowned, whose Death he continually lamented, till his mourning had brought him to breathe his last.  
Well (Sir) replied Graciana; but as to that other young man Hippolito, whom you spoke of, in those his discourses which he had with you, did he not at any time speak of Graciana? Did he tell you how she and Gasparino were made Captives? Speak of her (said Pyrrhus!) yes a thousand and a thousand times; and enquired of me very frequently, whether any Female Christian of that name had of late been brought to this Island; telling me withal how joyful he would be to hear any Tidings of her, that he might ransom her; to which purpose he possessed his Master with so much Credulity, that she was not so rich as he supposed her to be; and that having had the happiness of enjoying of her formerly, he needed not set so great a value upon her; however if three or four hundred Crowns would purchase her freedom, he would willingly Disburse it for the kindness he had formerly received from her.  
It seems, said Graciana, he valued her kindness but at a low rate that would not go beyond four hundred Crowns; but Gasparino was more Noble, Valiant and Generous, Fuller of Magnanimity than to make so poor an offer. O ye Gods forgive that inconsiderate wretch, who was the occasion of Generous Gasparino's death! for I am that unhappy woman, whose death he so much lamented. And Heaven knows were he now alive, how much I would repay his kindness! and should be witness how sensible I am of his misfortunes, who hath endured so much for mine! Having so said she besought Pyrrhus, (considering she knew not where she was, nor whither her Fates would hurry her) to assist her in her miseries.  
Pyrrhus replied, he would perform to her all the service he was capable of, and advice her according to his best understanding. With that he informed her of the Difference between the two Bashaws, upon her account; and how she now remained in the power of the judge his Master, in order to convey and present her to the great Turk, Han the Fourth at Constantinople: But he hoped Heaven would otherwise dispose of her: however he advised her in the mean time to use a fair deportment, and ingratiate herself into the favour and good opinion of Albuma his Master's wife, in whose Custody she is to remain till they send her to Constantinople, acquainting her withal, of Albuma's temper and qualities, with many other things which might redound to her benefit; at length they were arrived at his Master's house; Albuma seeing her so richly attired, and so lovely, gave her a very friendly and kind entertainment. Pyrrhus having rendered up his charge, returning back to the Tents, gave Gasparino an account of what had passed between him and Graciana.  
Gasparino having attentively heard the relation of his Friend: How must we (said he) proceed in this Affair, and employ our time to the best advantage? that which is first of all to be done, (answered Pyrrhus) is for you to be entertained in my Master's Service, which being effected we will afterwards consult, what is in the next place most convenient. But whilst they were thus talking, came the Guardian of the Christian Captives belonging to Hazen, and took Gasparino along with him. The judge returned with Hazen to the City, and Hattem taking his leave, prepared forthwith to set forward on his Journey, being very importunate with the Judge to hasten the sending of the Captive Virgin; and withal, to Write to the Grand Signior in his behalf, for the better promoting his Interest: All which the judge promised to perform, though he meant otherwise.  
Hattem being gone full of false hopes, and Hazen abiding behind, not altogether in despair; Pyrrhus so brought the business about, that Gasparino was entertained into his Master's Service: But still Time's Hou●…-Glass run on, and Gasparino burned so with desire to see Graciana, that he could not enjoy one Minute of rest: And now Gasparino was advised to change his Name, the better to conceal himself from Graciana's knowledge, before he had seen her, (So he gave himself the Name of Mauritinio,) but it was so difficult a Task to see her, that he could not as yet obtain it.  
Yet one day it so happened, that the Lady Albuma beh●…ld her Slave Mauritinio, and took such an affection to him, that he made a deep impression in her Heart, and fixed a stronger in her Memory, and perhaps taking little or no satisfaction in the cold Embraces of her Aged Husband, she easily gave way to this her Lustful Desire, and acquainted Graciana, (whom she now dearly loved) with her filthy wished-for Embraces: Gra●…iana indeed was of an obliging Temper and Sweet Behaviour; her therefore Albuma informed, that the judge had received into his House a Christian Cap●…ive, of a lovely Aspect, and fine Deportment; that in her Eye he was the Comeliest Person that ever she beheld, and that he was of the same Country with Pyrrhus, but could not contrive which way to bring it about, whereby he might understand her affection for him, and she fearing he should slight her Amours when he did know of it.  
Graciana being willing to please her, asked what was the Captives Name? Albuma told her Mauritinio: to whom Graciana replied, if he be a Gentleman, and of that place you say he is, I must needs know him; but of the Name of Mauritinio, I don't remember any such in Trepana; but if your Ladyship will permit me to see him, and Discourse with him, I shall be able to inform you, both who he is, and what may be expected from him: It shall be done (said Albuma) with the first Opportunity; and according to your Discretion you may give him some light of my Affections, and in so doing this Friendly Office, I shall place the greater Esteem upon you.  
As Albuma had thus declared herself to Graciana: within lesle than two hours after, the judge calling Pyrrhus, and Mauritinio to him; with no lesle Efficacy than Albuma his Wife had done to Graciana, did he discover to them the Affections he had for the Virgin Captive, requiring their Privacy, and Advice, what course he should take to keep the Female Christian to himself, and yet comply with the Grand Signior whose she was; acquainting them withal, that he would rather die ten thousand Deaths than once resign her up to him. After several Consultations, among Persons aiming at contrary ends, it was at length concluded, that Mauritinio, as being a Person of her own Native Country, should undertake to Court her for his Master, and if he could not prevail by fair Means, he should then use Violence to force her; and that being done, they should then report abroad, she was Dead. The judge, or Cadi rested extremely well satisfied with this Contrivance of his Slaves, gave Pyrrhus his Liberty, and after his Death half of his Goods: He likewise promised Mauritinio, not only his Freedom, but good store of Crowns if he succeeded.  
Now if he were so Generous and Noble 〈◊〉 promising, his Captives were as Prodi●…l in their Performances, offering to pul●…●…own the Moon to do him Service; much ●…ore easily to draw Graciana to his Imbra●…, so as Mauritinio might have the op●…rtunity of discoursing with her. I will ●…ant him free access to her, said the Cadi, 〈◊〉 judge, as often as need requires, if that ●…ill advance the business; and to that pur●…se I will send away Albuma my Wife to ●…r Friends in the Country; and in the ●…ean time Graciana shall have all the Li●…rty in the World to Discourse and Con●…rse with her Countryman: This Agree●…ent being made between these three, all ●…as hushed.  
The next day the Cadi, or judge came 〈◊〉 Albuma, and in a pleasant Humour told ●…r, she might, when she pleased, visit her ●…ather and Mother, and stay in the Coun●…y as long as she would, or till he sent for ●…er: But in regard her heart was overjoyed ●…ith those fair hopes which Graciana had ●…en her, she had no inclination of go●…g; and therefore told him, at this time ●…e had no great fancy to depart from home, ●…r to go thither; when she had, she would ●…quaint him with it, but whenever she ●…ent she did design to take the Captive Christian along with her: By no mea●… (replied the Judge) for it is not requi●… that the Grand Signior's Female Slav●… should be seen by any person. That matter●… not much, (replied Albuma) for she ma●… be as private in my Father's House, as an●… where else: Besides, the longest time 〈◊〉 mean to spend with them, shall not be 〈◊〉 'bove four or five days; for that will see●… an Age to me to be so long absent from you●… The Judge made no reply, because h●… would give her no occasion to suspect h●… farther Intentions.  
Whilst these Transactions were agit●… thing, the judge had some Affairs to min●… which Albuma his Wife, known would detain him from home, for the space of fo●… hours: He was no sooner gone, but sh●… commanded Mauritinio to be called to he●… No sooner was Mauritinio admitted, b●… he walked through the whole House, g●… zing about him, yet could he not perceiv●… any thing, save a dumb, and still Silenc●… till he cast his Eye aside, where Gracia●… sat, at the foot of a curious Staircase 〈◊〉 polished Marble, which led up to a spa●…ous Gallery that surrounded the who●… House. Instantly so many Passions seiz'●… the Enamoured Gasparino, as wrought 〈◊〉 him both Amazement, and Refreshment●… be considered with himself, that he was a Cap●…, and 〈◊〉 another's Power; but at length ●…ercoming with all Facility, those little 〈◊〉; with a Formidable Love, and ●…ilarating Sadness, and Pusillanimous ●…ourage, advanced to the place where she ●…e; at what time Graciana turning her ●…d aside, fixed her Eyes upon Mauritinio, 〈◊〉 looked no lesle steadfastly upon her.  
But when both their Looks encountering ●…us each other, by different effects had ●…en evident signs of that which their se●…eral Souls felt within: Gasparino was at a ●…d, and wanted motion to advance fur●…; ●…nd Graciana, who upon Pyrrhus' ●…lation of Gasparino's Death, gave credit 〈◊〉, 〈◊〉 beholding him now so unexpect●…y live, full of Fear and Amazement, 〈◊〉 he●… self, as if she had seen some Appa●… Gasparino coming to himself, and ●…derstanding by her Gestures, the true 〈◊〉 ●…f Graciana's Fears, assured her in the 〈◊〉 passionate Expressions, that a Lover ●…ld ●…vent, that he was the same unfor●… ●…parino, whom she had made so. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 having dissipated her Fears, de●…●…im to speak lower, and not speak of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to what she should ask him: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 you may be sure our Lady hath 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and may overhear our Discourse; and (to deal plainly with you) has acquainted me, that she is a great Admirer of you, and has employed me to interceded with you in her behalf: if you answer her Desires, your days here in Captivity may seem more easy to you, though in the end prove pernicious: However for the present you must sergeant your Embracements, first for my desire, and next it is a piece of rudeness to despise any Lady's Addresses.  
To this Gasparino replied, I never could harbour any such Thought, Fair Graciana, that any Service you should ever command me to undertake, should prove so hard a Task for me to perform, as this which you lay before me; neither is it agreeable to the Honour and Faith of a Gentleman, or the Reputation of a good man, to feign and dissemble in such weighty Consequences: However, because you shall not say I gave a refusal to your first Request, your Commands shall be obeyed; I'll janus like look two ways, pursue the ill, because it is for good to come of it. I will to satisfy your desire, and Albuma's Pleasure, (Lust I should have called it) comply as far as a counterfeiting yielding will permit, so that thereby I may gain the Happiness of seeing you; to which purpose do you study for my Answers to her, according to your Discretion, which having said he entreated her briefly to tell him how she escaped from the hands of the Pirates, and how she came in●…o those of the jew, who so lately sold her.  
The Story of my Misfortunes, (answered Graciana) require more leisure than time will now permit, yet will I not leave you wholly unsatisfied: Know then, that the very same Evening we parted, Rozak's Galley was carried with a strong Wind to the same Isles of Pantanalea, where we likewise saw your Vessel; but ours, we being not able to hinder it, ran unavoidably upon the Rocks▪ However Rozak foreseeing his own Dest●…uction and mine before his Eyes, be●…e the fatal ruin happened, took care to have ●…e rowed on Shore, between two C●…ks fastened together, which was done at first by the Captain himself, who had ventured his Life to save mine, till an unfortunate Billow threw him upon the Rocks, and dashed out his Brains. After which, two others which were endeavouring to save themselves, took hold of my Cable, and hall'd me to Land, where I lay in a Swoon for some time; but of this I know nothing myself, but by information. With me, eight other Persons saved themselves, who though Turks used me with as much respect, as if I had been related to them: We kept ourselves close in a Cave for eight days, the Turks fearing the Christians should espy 'em, which had command of the Fort in the Island; and all that time we fed upon nothing but the wet Biscuit which the Sea had cast upon the Shore, from the broken Bins of the Galley, which the Turks gathered up by Night, that they might not be discovered.  
At the eight days end, there arrived upon that Coast, a Vessel of the Moors, which came to an Anchor a little off the Land; upon which the Turks made such signs to the Vessel which lay not far off, that they which were in her perceived they were Turks that called to 'em. Thereupon they sent out their Cockboat, and received them into their Bark, wherein was an exceeding rich jew, a Merchant; all the Lading of the Vessel, or the most part of it was his, being Freighted with Carpets, and Hides, with other Commodities, which they carry from Barbary to the Levant. In that Vessel the Turks sailed for Tripoli; and in that Voyage they sold me to the jew for two thousand Ducats, an Excessive Price, if his Love towards me had not made him so generous, as he afterwards declared to me.  
Leaving the Turks after all this in Tripoli, the Vessel Tacked about to perform her Voyage, and the jew began to be very hot in his Solicitations: At length despairing to obtain his lustful ends, he resolved to make the most of me, the first opportunity that should offer itself: At last he understood that the two Bashaws were in this Island, where he might sell and vend his Merchandise, as well as in Xio, whither he was bound; and intending to sell me to one of the Bashaws, he put me in this Habit which I have on, to make me the more Sailable and Amiable to the Eyes of those that bought me.  
And now I understand this Cadi, or judge has purchased me, with a design to send me as a Present to the Great Turk, of which I am not a little fearful: Here I heard of your supposed Death, and I must now declare to you, if you dare believe me, That it grieved me to the very Soul; though I rather envied than pitied your Misfortune; not out of any disrespect, but because I knew you were then happy, while I continued still in misery.  
Dear Graciana, (replied Gasparino) you judged aright, in what you have now spoken; only Death had deprived me of this Happiness which I now enjoy, in seeing of you once more; a Felicity which I esteem more dear than my Life: But Fairest of Creatures, I am now to acquaint you, the judge my Master, by no lesle various Accidents than yours, entertains the same Affection to you, as Albuma your Lady declares she has for me; and he has made choice of me to be the Interpreter of his Thoughts: I received the Motion, though not to do him that piece of Service, but to gain the happy opportunity of conversing with the Joy of my Life. Thus you may see (Dear Graciana) to what hard measure our Misfortunes have hurried us; you to be Agitator in working such Impossibilities; and me likewise to be Solicitor in such a P●…odigious Cause as this, which rather than obtain, I would forfeit Life, and all I have, which now I value, since it has afforded me this great Happiness.  
I am doubtful what to say, or imagine, (replied Graciana) how we shall be able to get out of this Labyrinth; but you see, what our Condition constrains us to make use of: I am sure our Inclinations never tended to Dissimulation, and Deceit; we must now make a Virtue of necessity; and therefore I will acquaint Albuma with some feeling Expressions pretended to be yours; that shall rather entertain her with Hopes, than drive her to Despair: You shall likewise report of me to the judge, what you think most convenient, that may not prove prejudicial to my Honour, but prevent his designs; and since I wholly intrust you with it, you may assure yourself it never was yet violated, though indeed those Difficulties I have endured might call it in question: As for our Conversing one with another, will (by their means) appear very easy, provided you declare to none your Pretensions to me, for in that very hour, you do that, you must expect never to see me more; for I would not have you prise me at so low Rate, to think that Captivity can effect that, which Liberty could not attain to.  
Madam, (replied Gasparino) as to that Particular you may at present easily command my Obedience: I am willing, e'er I entertain such Thoughts, to give you farther Proofs of my Affection, in working your Deliverance, and mine: Now as to what concerns the judge, take you no care of that, but do you undertake the like with Albuma. With this they took their leaves of each other; Graciana remained very well satisfied with Gasparino's fair Intentions, and he the most joyful man in the World that he had heard Graciana speak with so much sweetness.  
Albuma, in this Interim of time, had shut herself up in her Oratory, praying to her Prophet Mahomet, that Graciana might bring her good Tidings of the Business recommended to her Care. Nor was the judge lesle solicitous than his Lady, as wholly depending upon a good successful Answer, which he hoped to receive from Mauritinio; to whose Charge he committed his discoursing with Graciana.  
Graciana greatly pleased Albuma, by giving her very good hopes that Mauritinio would acquiesce to her Desires, but telling her withal, he must entreat her Patience while two Moons were first expired; before which time, he could not answer that, which he much more desired than herself; and this forbearance was only desired, that he might finish his Vows, for his Deliverance from Bondage. Albuma was not at all displeased with the excuse of her beloved Mauritinio, but promised to obtain his Freedom, before the appointed time, provided he would answer her Expectation; and therefore entreated Graciana to inform him of it, and see what Operation she could make with him to dispense with the said time; engaging withal to furnish him with as much Money as the judge should require for his ransom.  
As for Gasparino before he would return an answer to his Master, he consulted with Pyrrhus, what answer to make him, and the result of it was, that they should acquaint him, the Case was desperate, without any hopes of winning her; and therefore, as soon as possible he could, he should carry her away to Constantinople; and that in the way thither, either by fair means or by force, he might obtain his Desires. Then to keep from the Grand Signior's Displeasure, he should purchase for him another Slave, which in the Voyage should be thrown overboard, upon pretence that Graciana was fallen Sick, and dead of her Distemper, which they said should be done in such a manner, as it should never be discovered; neither should he incur the Grand Signior's Displeasure, but fulfil his own Heart's Desire; afterwards, for the continuance of his Favour, they would invent some Stratagem, which should make all firm and secure.  
This old judge, his strong Affections to Graciana had so blinded the Eyes of his understanding; that had they told him a thousand greater unlikely hoods, he would have believed them all; only one more difficulty offered itself to the judge, which in his Opinion was greater than all the rest; which was, lest his Lady should hinder him from going to Constantinople, without permitting her to go with him; but immediately they removed that Obstacle, by informing him, that in the Room of the Christian which they were to buy, and to throw overboard instead of Graciana, Albuma would serve Excellent well for that purpose; and none better to please him, whom he earnestly desired to be freed from, more than Death.  
This scruple being thus removed, that very day, the Judge Discourses with Albuma concerning the Voyage he intended to make to Constantinople, to transport the Christian to the Grand Signior; by whose Bounty, he hoped to receive some higher preferment. Albuma replied, she approved very well of his Design, thinking he would leave Gasparino at home. But when she found he was to go with him, she began to change her Opinion, and to dissuade him from that, which before she had advised him to. In short, she concluded, That if he did not take her with him, she would 〈◊〉 all the means that possibly could be fo●… out to hinder his Voyage: that pleased 〈◊〉 judge, who had before determined to shake off that Yoke, which was so uneasy to him.  
All this while, Hazen Bashaw was not negligent in soliciting the judge to resign up the Christian Slave to him, offering him Mountains of Gold; but all his Gifts and Promises wrought no effect upon him, but to forward him more in his departure. Within twenty days, he had fitted and rigged up a Bregantine of fifteen Banks, Manning it with Voluntary Soldiers, lusty young able Men, partly Moor, and some Greek Christians. Therein he embarked all his Wealth; neither did Albuma leave any thing in her House of any considerable Value, for Albuma's Design was the same with that of Pyrrhus', That when the Vessel was out at Sea, Gasparino and he should make themselves Masters of the Bregantine, and Sail away with it. But she thought not fit to declare her Intentions to them, till she saw herself embarked, hoping thereby to gain Gasparino's Affection; being verily persuaded, that carrying such store of Wealth along with her, he would not refuse her for his Wife.  
But as private as Albuma kept her Design, Gasparino understood it from Graciana, whom Albuma had made acquainted with her Contrivance; and now the day of departure being come, Hazen went forth, accompanying them with all his Soldiers to the Sea side; where he remained with his Eye fixed upon the Bregantine, till he had quite lost the sight of it. But then as one who having long continued in such torment, oppressed by Love which did disturb this quiet, being ready furnished with Intentions, without delay he put that presently in Execution, which with long Deliberation he had forecasted; having therefore a Vessel for that purpose ready in another Port, he clapped into her fifty Soldiers, with all his Friends and Acquaintance, whom he had obliged by many Gifts and Promises, giving the strict Charge to put forth to Sea immediately, and recover the Judge's Bregantine, and to put to the Sword all that were in her except Graciana the Captive; also he gave them order to sink the Vessel, that nothing might remain, the better to prevent discovery.  
Nor did they need many Arguments; for their Covetousness of the Plunder added Wings to their Feet, and Courage to their Hearts; considering the vastness of the Spoil, which was known to be in the Vessel. Two Days had the Bregantine Sailed in her intended Course, which to the Judge seemed two Ages; for the first day he greatly desired to have put his Design in Execution, but his Slaves advised him to the contrary, for the first Contrivance was that Graciana should fall sick, the better to show a pretence to her Death, which would require a little longer time; he did not approve of so long a delay, but would have it reported she died suddenly; and so quickly make an end of what they had projected, by dispatching his Wife out of the way, that he might allay the heat of that Fire, which by degrees consumed his Bowels. But in Conclusion to what they proposed, he at length condescended.  
In this space of time, Albuma had discovered her Design to Pyrrhus, and Gasparino, and they were ready to put it in Execution, as soon as they had doubled certain points they were to Sail by; but the Judge was so hasty with them, and so sharp set, that they were forced to promise him to perform the task they undertook, upon the first opportunity that should offer itself. And now the day began to appear, wherein (according to the Contrivance of Pyrrhus and Gasparino) they were to accomplish their Desires, or to end their Days, when upon a sudden they descried a Vessel, which with Sails and Oars made briskly after them; at first they were afraid, they had been Christian Pirates, from whom neither the one nor the other could expect any Benefit.  
Thereupon they prepared to defend themselves, and to do all that might be done in such a Case of Necessity, three hours afterwards they drew nearer to them, till they came within Canonshot. Perceiving this, they immediately struck Sail, and loosed their Oars, and put themselves in a posture fit to receive them. But when the Vessel came within sight, the Judge bid them cheer up and fear nothing, for the Vessel was Turkish, and would do them no prejudice; withal, he commanded a White Flag should presently be hung out, which they in the other Galley, already blinded with greediness of gain, took no notice of, but made up with greater fury to Board the Bregantine. At the approach of this danger, Pyrrhus, by chance, turning his Head aside, perceived from another point of the Compass, another Galley bearing up with full Sails carrying Christian Colours.  
Now I am apt to believe the judge would have given all the hopes of his Pleasure, to have found himself again in Nicosia, so great was his Confusion and Amazement; more especially to see himself so fiercely attacked by the first Vessel, that they wanted very little of sinking his Brigantine. But when he saw them to be Soldiers of Nicosia, he soon guessed the Cause of their coming, and by whom set on work, and gave himself for a lost Man: Indeed had it not been that the Soldiers more minded the Spoil than the Slaughter, not a Man had escaped alive.  
But by this time, when they were most busy about their Pillaging, the Vessel bearing Christian Colours, came up with the Victor Galley, and began to batter it very rudely; but before she came to grapple with her, the Captain demanded what Vessel that was, and from whence: They made answer that it belonged to Hazen the Bashaw, Viceroy of Cyprus. How comes it then to pass that you being Musselmen, have robbed this Vessel, which carries the judge of Nicosia? To which they answered, that they were commanded to take her by their Superior, and therefore they were to obey, without ask any Questions.  
The Captain of the last Vessel thus satisfied with that which he desired to know, fell off from Hazen's, and made towards that of the judge, and with the very first Volley of Shot he killed him ten of his Men; and presently after entered her with great Courage and speed. But they had scarce set their Feet upon the Hatches, but the judge instantly knew Bazon, the Bashaw, who with the same Design as Hazen, had pursued him; and that he might not be known, had put forth Christian Colours.  
The judge, understanding the Intentions of both these Lovers, finding himself thus set upon, began to show his Anger, reviling one, reproaching another, and threatening others, and so severely rebuked the Soldiers, for drawing their Swords against a judge and Minister of Mahomet, and their Natural Sovereign the Grand Signior, that the Seamen began to consider what they had done, and were about to put up their Scymeters, only Bazon shut his Eyes and Ears to all that he saw or heard; and falling upon the judge, gave him such a cut on the Head, that if the blow had not been born off by the thickness of his Turban, he had cleft his Scull in sunder; for it came with such a force, that it struck him down between the Banks of the Vessel.  
This Action caused Bazon's Soldiers to follow the Example of their General, so that all was now again in worse Confusion than before; Bazon's Men fell upon the judge; and Hazen's Soldiers fearing that Bazon's Men should get their Plunder from them, entered Bazon's Vessel, that in Conclusion, the Slaughter was so great, that there was hardly a Turk left alive, but what was much wounded. Gasparino and Pyrrhus, observing that the Turks were in a manner all slain; and those which remained alive, were sore wounded, now thought it their only opportunity; and therefore calling to their Assistance two Kinsmen of Albumas, and being aided by the Volunteers, who were Venetians, with a great deal of ease, and without receiving so much as one Wound, they cut the Throats of all the rest; and Boarding Bazon's Galley, which they found without Defence, they took it, with all that was in it. Of those that died in the second Encounter, was Bazon the Bashaw, whom a Turk in Revenge to the judge ran through the Body.  
Being now Masters of all the three Vessels, by Pyrrhus' Advice they took out all things that were of any price or value, both in their own, and Hazen's Vessel, and stowed them in Bazon's Galley, which was a Vessel of far greater Burden, and fitter to take in the Lading; nor did they want Rowers, for they being most Venetian Slaves, were glad of the opportunity to return home, after they had carried the Vessel where Pyrrhus should require them. But before they set Sail, Pyrrhus and Gasparino, full of Expressions of Joy, for their good Success, went to Albuma, and told her, that if she would return to Cyprus, they would man her own Vessel, and give her one half of the Goods, which she had embarked. But she having not yet lost that Amorous Affection, which she bore to Gasparino, told him, she would go with him to Venice, or elsewhere.  
The judge was by this time come to himself, having dressed and bound up his Wound, as well as the place would permit, they likewise informed him that he should take his choice, either to go with them, or to return in the same Vessel he set forth, to Nicosia. To which he replied, that since his ill Fortune, had been so great, he would rather accept of his Liberty, and supplicate the Grand Signior to redress those Injuries▪ he had received from Bazon and Hazen, two of his Bashaws. In the end, they manned his own Vessel, and furnished him with all things necessary for his Voyage; they gave him some Chequins, of those which once had been his own; and so having taken his leave, he begged that Graciana would vouchsafe but only to embrace him; which he would look upon as a great Kindness, and would of itself be sufficient to make him forget all his Misfortune; to which Graciana yielded, at the request of Pyrrhus and Gasparino; that done, the judge further begged her but to lay her Hands upon his Head, not doubting but her charming Hand would heal his Wound. Which Graciana did likewise perform according to his Desire; and now having bored many holes in Hazen's Vessel to sink it, a merry Eastern Gale seeming to court the Sails, they made such fresh way, that in a very few hours they lost the sight of the judge's Brigantine, who with Tears in his Eyes, stood beholding how the Winds carried away his Wealth, his Wife, and Graciana his Soul's Delight.  
The Wind still favouring them, without touching any where, in a few days they got within sight of their beloved Country; which not a little augmented that Joy, which had already taken Possession of their Hearts; and no wonder their Spirits were transported with a new Contentment, which is one of the greatest that can be purchased in this Life, to arrive after a long Captivity, safe in their own Native Country, there being nothing can equalise it, but the Pleasure of Victory and Conquest. About an hour after daybreak, they found themselves within lesle than a League of the City, at what time Gasparino gave Order to ●…m the Vessel with several Flags, Streamers, and Pendants, and rowed leisurely into the Haven; which being discovered from the Port, an infinite number of People presently showed themselves upon the Sho●…e.  
In the mean time Gasparino entreated Graciana to clothe and dress herself in the same manner, as when she was conducted by the jew into the Bashaws Tent. Gaspari●…o and Pyrrhus also put themselves into Turkish Habit, as also did the Christians that plied the Oar; for the●…e were Garments enough of the slain Turks to serve them all. This occasioned a pleasant delusion of the sight to those that were upon the Land; for the People that stood gazing to b●…hold a stout Vessel so gaily trimmed with Streamers, and Pendants playing, and triumphing in the Air: But when they b●…held the Turkish Habits and white Turbans, they began to grow fearful and jealous of Stratagems; thereupon they forthwith betook themselves to their Arms upon the Haven, while the Horse were sent out to s●… the Coast.  
But those fears were soon dispelled, when Landing, they with Tears of joy saluted the ground, as an Evident sign they were Christians, who had made prize of the Vessel. The last that landed was the fair Graciana, having a Veil cast over her Face of Crimson Taffeta, led by Pyrrhus and Gasparino: Which object drew after them the eyes of all that infinite multitude, who at their Landing kneeling as the rest did, Saluted the Earth with their prostrate Lips. By that time this was done, the Captain and Governor of the City were come up unto them, who presently knew Gasparino, and ran with open Arms, and all the manifestations of exceeding joy to embrace him. With the Governor came Hippolito, and his Parents, and the Parents of Gasparino and Graciana with all her Kindred and Acquaintance, who were the greatest Persons of Rank and Quality in the whole City; all whom Gasparino received with a Joy and Affection, equal to what they had showed to him. Then taking Graciana in one hand and Hippolito in the other, whose Colour then began to change; but Gasparino saluted him with much respect according to his degree and quality, and then declared himself.  
Gentlemen (said he) you may well remember the misfortune which some Months since happened to me in Moronio's Garden, together with the loss of Graciana; nor can you forget the diligence which I used to procure her liberty, offering my whole Estate for her ransom; which though to you it may seem a kindness, was to me none, it being to redeem what I prized above all the World. What from that time has happened to us both, will require long time and a seasonable opportunity to relate; let it suffice for the present to tell you, That after many various and strange Accidents, and after a thousand lost hopes of remedying our misfortunes, the Gods have protected us and returned us home to our Native Country, with Riches agreeable to our Contentment, and Completed our Happiness; yet neither from this nor my procured liberty, is the end answerable to my desire, but in that great pleasure which I conceive my sweet Enemy takes as well to see herself Fre●…, as to see before her here the chief object of her affections.  
In short I offered my whole Estate for her Ransom, resigned up my Heart only to herself, contriving the means for her Liberty, and adventured my Life for her safety; and though from all these may be raised engagements of moment, yet I will not impose any one thing upon her, except this one, which I presume she will agree to; and so saying he puts up his hand, and with a Grace full of humility, took away the Scarff from before Graciana's Face; which had the resemblance of the dissipating of a Cloud which darkens the Sun's brightness; Here, Hippolito, (said he) I deliver thee such a Jewel, which it behoves thee to esteem above all those things that are esteemed worthy. In the same manner (fair Graciana) I freely give thee that which thou hast ever had in thy Memory; for this if you please you may call me Generous, since in comparison of this Gift, to give away my Life, Estate, my Honour, all is nothing. Take her most fortunate of Men; and if thy understanding can but soar so high as to value her worth, thou art the happiest of all mankind; and with such a Jewel as here, I give and allow thee as much Wealth as comes to my share in this adventure.  
Having thus said he was silent, as if he had laid a charm upon his Tongue; but presently recollecting himself, What Jurisdiction (said he) have I over Graciana, to give her to another? Or how can I dispose of that to another which is none of my own? Graciana is his, and so much his, that her affections to him can meet with no opposition; or if there may intervene those obligations which she may think she owes me, from this time forward I disclaim and cancel them; I give therefore to Hippolito nothing; because I neither can nor dare do otherwise; only I confirm the grant of my Goods made to Graciana, without desiring any other recompense, but only that she would be so credulous, and not think otherwise, but that my intentions were honest and just, and never aimed at any other design but what was agreeable to her infinite Beauty and Perfections.  
Here Graciana, turning to Gasparino, If any favours (Sir said she) were by me showed to Hippolito, you must believe them to be Virtuous, and to proceed more from duty than affection. But now if they will give me leave freely to dispose of that which your Valour and Generosity hath obliged me withal. Here her Parents interrupted her, telling her she had free liberty to do as her discretion should direct her. For, which when she had returned 〈◊〉 her humble thanks with all duty and 〈◊〉, I had rather incur, said she, the censure of inconstancy, than to be taxed with ingratitude; and therefore Valiant Gasparino, my affection, hitherto so reserved and dubious, shall now declare itself, to be in your Favour; I am yours, Gasparino, and will be yours till death, if the knowledge of some more deserving Beauty have not prevented my happiness.  
Gasparino hearing these words was so transported with Joy, and in a manner in such an ecstasy that he knew not how presently to return Graciana an answer in any other dialect than by prostrating himself on his Knees to her, and kissing her fair hands, which he held so fast, and bathed often with his tender and affectionate Tears. Hippolito likewise wept, but 'twas for Grief for the loss of Graciana. Graciana's Parents wept Tears of Joy and Gladness, while all the Standards buy were full of admiration and astonishment.  
Gasparino having recovered himself out of that deep ecstasy of Joy wherein he was lost, they all seated themselves at a small Banquet which Graciana's Friends had prepared. They were full of Mirth, and Jollity, exchanging multiplicity of kisses with each other, and thinking of their past misfortunes; amongst the rest Graciana remembered a Song which Gasparino's Boy Sung in the Garden, a little before the Turks came and surprised them; which occasioned her often to reflect upon her ingratitude, in not making a Suitable return to his affections; but withal desired that his Boy might Sing it. He told her that Song was now quite out of date with him; but to satisfy her request it should not be wanting; so calling his Boy he commanded him to Tune his Instrument, and Sing that last Song which he Sung in the Garden: He readily obeyed his order and began.  

The SONG.  

Go, Treacherous hopes, by whose uncertain Fire  
I cherish my Tyrannical desire:  
Love is a more uncertain Guest than Care,  
And my Fate's such,  
That it will cost as much  
To Love as to Despair.   

'tis true, our Lives are but a long disease,  
Made up with real care and seeming ease.  
Ye Gods that such uncertain Favours give,  
O, tell me why,  
It is so hard to dye,  
And such a Task to live!    
This being ended the Bishop of that City was then present, who with his Benediction and Licence conducted them to the Cathedral Church, and instantly Married them. Pyrrhus and Albuma were reconciled to the Church, who seeing it was impossible to be Gasparino's Wife, contented herself in matching with Pyrrhus, to whom Gasparino gave Generous and Noble Gifts: in conclusion all remained fully contented and satisfied; and the fame of Gasparino spread itself through all Italy, and many other places under the name of, The Generous Lover.   

THE Libertine: A NOVEL.  
THe Sun having run his due Course in a hot Summer's day, the Evening being approached, an Ancient Gentleman, accompanied with his Wife, his Son a little Youth, a Daughter about Seventeen Years of Age, with a Maid Servant, having been taking a Walk for their Recreation upon the Banks of the River of Toledo, and were returning home, the Night was clear, and bright, and the Hour Eleven, the Highway large, and their Paces slow, that they might not lose, through weariness, those Pleasures which the delightful Meadows, lying by the River side, afforded them, and depending on the security, which the strict course of Justice, and the well disposed Humour of the People of that City warranted, the good old Gentleman walked leisurely along with his small Family, not the least surmizing of being disturbed; but far from the thoughts of having any Disaster happening to 'em. But in regard Misfortunes commonly approach, when least thought of, contrary wholly to his Expectation, and quite beyond all imaginary Conceptions, there happened one, who not only disturbed their present Recreation, but gave them great cause to weep many Years after.  
There was a Gentleman of that City about the Age of two and twenty, whose great Wealth, his nobleness of Blood, but chiefly his depraved Disposition, and too much assumed Liberty, together with the loose, Extravagant Libertines, like himself, which he kept Company withal, led him to commit such Obscene Actions, as ill became his Person and Quality, and entitled him only to Audaciousness and Insolency: This Gentleman, (〈◊〉 Name, for Modesty sake we shall conceal, and call Octavio) with four other Frolicksome young Gentlemen full of Jollity, were upon the top of a Hill singing to their Instruments in a mad merry Humour, these following Verses.  

How Sweet, and how Free is the Plunder,  
When we care not for Jove, nor his Thunder?  
When we enter a Town,  
Then the Lasses go down,  
And to their Overcomers lie under.  
Why then should we study to Love, and look Pale,  
And make long Addresses to what will grow Stale?   

If her Fingers be soft, long, and slender,  
When once we have made her surrender,  
She will handle a Flute,  
Better far than a Lute,  
And make what was hard to grow tender.  
Why then, etc.   

If her Hair of a dark Chest nut brown is,  
And her Belly as soft as the Down is,  
She will fire your Heart,  
In performing her Part,  
With a Flame, that more hot than the Town is.  
Why then, etc.   

When the Houses with Flashes do glitter,  
And we sever the Sweet from the Bitter;  
And in that bright Night  
We can take our Delight,  
No Damsel shall scape but we'll hit her.  
Why then should we study to Love, and look Pale,  
And make long Addresses to what will grow Stale?   
As the old Gentleman had reached the Foot of the Hill, these Libertines were coming down; and meeting with this harmless Family, they in a very rough manner, Vizarding their own Faces, threw up the Veils of the Mother, Daughter, and Maid: The old Gentleman was not a little offended at the Action, and reprehended them exceedingly for it; telling them, they did not understand the Rules of Civility, nor indeed good Manners, to offer any such Abuse to Ladies, which were Modest, and not for their turn.  
They minded not his Discourse, but in stead of giving him a suitable Answer, they Retorted upon him with Scoffs, and Scorns, repeating, If her Hair of a dark Chest-nut Brown is, etc. and without farther Misdemeanour, went forward on their way: But the great Beauty of Almeria, which Octavio had seen; (for that was the Name of this Gentleman's Daughter) began to rouse his unbridled Passion in such a manner, that he resolved to Enjoy her, in despite of all Inconveniences that might ensue; and to that purpose, consulting with his Companions, they all returned back immediately, with an Intention, and full Resolution, to force her from her Parents: They being willing to please Octavio; for in Spain, rich Men which are lewdly and Licentiously given, shall never want those that will Canonize their evil Actions; and therefore in their Communication, they approved of the design, and resolved to put it in Execution after this manner.  
They put on their Vizards, and with their Swords drawn, they faced about, and with a swiftness of foot, presently overtook those, who were rejoicing for their late Delivery: Octavio seized upon Almeria, and taking her up in his Arms, ran away with her, with all the speed imaginable, she having no strength to defend herself from this Violence; for the sudden Passion that possessed her, was so prevalent, that it took away the use of her Voice, which Fear and Amazement had rendered useless; and Swooning away, she was deprived of all her Senses: Her Father made what resistance he could, and called out as loud as his Voice would permit him, the Mother Shrieked, her little Brother Cried, and the Maid Wept, and tore her Hair; but neither their Cries nor Shrieks were heard, nor could their Tears move Compassion, for the Solitariness of the place, the late Season of Night, and the Resolute Cruelty of those D●…bauchees that assisted their wicked Design: So that the one went away Jocund and Merry, and the other went home Sad and Pensive.  
Octavio returned home to his House, rejoicing at his Adventure; but the Parents of Almeria with great Affliction, and full of Despair, were without Sight, and destitute of all the rest of their Senses, wanting their Daughter's Eyes, which were the Light of theirs; they were very melancholy, lacking the Sweet, and Facetious Company of Almeria; they were in Confusion, and Amazement, not knowing which way to steer their Course; whether they should give timely notice of their Misfortune to the Ministers of Justice, or else conceal it: They were loath to be the principal Instrument of publishing their own Shame, and Dishonour; nor did they know on whom to complain, but their own hard Fortune. Octavio in the mean time, being Subtle, and Crafty, brought Almeria home to his Father's House, who having locked her up in his own private Lodging, while she was yet in a Swoon; and the better to keep her ignorant of the way he had brought her, he Blindfolded her with a Handkerchief, that she could not take notice of the Streets she had passed through, nor of the House, or Room whereunto he had brought her.  
Before Almeria had recovered her Swooning, Octavio had satisfied his Lustful Passion; for the unchaste violence of Youth seldom or never, respect either time, or place, but runs on headlong, whither their unbridled Lust leads 'em, letting loose the Reinss to all Licentiousness: Having the light of his understanding thus blinded, he robbed Almeria in the dark, of the best Jewel she had; for the Sins of Sensuality reach no farther for the most part than the accomplishing and fulfilling of them: Octavio presently resolved to turn the abused Almeria out of doors; and it entered into his Imagination to lay her out in the Street, being thus in a Swoon as she was; but going to execute this Villainous purpose, he perceived she was newly come to herself: At what time recovering her Voice; Heavens defend me, (said she) where am I! What Darkness is this? What Clouds have compassed me about? What ails me? How comes this to pass? Then calling out for her Father, and Mother, and neither answering, she repeated a thousand Lamentations in the dark; and calling to remembrance how she was assaulted, and forced violently from her Parents, she at last took fast hold of Octavio's Hands: If thou art such a one (she cried) whose Soul will admit of Entreaty, I earnestly beseech thee, since thou hast thus triumphed over my Honour, gain the Victory likewise over this wretched Life; Deprive me of it, I conjure thee immediately; for it is but requisite I should lose the one, since I cannot regain the other: And consider with thyself, that the rigour of that Cruelty which thou hast exercised upon my Weakness, will be tempered and mollified by the pity thou wilt extend towards me, by taking away the Life which thou hast now made so deplorable and miserable.  
These mournful Arguments which Almeria alleged to Octavio left him so amazed, and confused, that the horridness of the Crime seemed to make him sensible of the wrong he had committed, that he knew neither what to say or do; so that his silence made Almeria think at first, it might be some Apparition that was with her; but when she found that she touched a real Body, and calling to remembrance the violence used to her walking along with her Parents, and duly weighing the greatness of her Misfortune, with the very Thoughts thereof, she returned anew to vent those words which her many Sighs, and Tears had before interrupted.  
Bold Ravisher, (she cried) thy Actions make me judge thee to be one of no great Years; I pardon thee the Violation thou hast offered me, and forgive thee that foul Offence thou hast committed, provided thou wilt here solemnly Swear to me, that as thou hast covered my Honour with this Darkness, so likewise that you would bury it in perpetual Silence, never to acquaint any person with it: It is but a small satisfaction, I crave at your Hands, in comparison of so great an Injury; yet to me, (considering this perplexed State I am now in) it will be the greatest that I can beg of you, or you can grant me: Consider besides, That I never beheld your Face, nor ever do desire to see it; for though I cannot but deseant upon the offence, yet will I endeavour to forget the Offender: Neither will I imprint in my Memory, the Image of the Author of my Woes, but pour forth my Complaints between myself and Heaven, without desiring the World to be my Auditors, for they are not Competent Judges of such Cases, as to their real effects; but are rather Commentatours to cast ill Reflections upon 'em. I must confess my Passion has made me guilty of Ignorance, in uttering these Verities to you, which indeed ought to be grounded upon the experience of more Years, than ever I had the honour to arrive to; yet I may make that Interpretation, that Grief and Sorrow, doth with equality, fix, and dissolve the Tongue of the Afflicted; one while amplifying the received Injury, that others may be the more induced to believe it; another while burying it in the Grave of Silence, the better to hinder the application of Remedies: So that whether I express myself in Words, or remain silent, I flatter myself with those Persuasions, that you cannot be wanting of Motives to believe me, or of Remedies to supply me; since that Incredulity in you, would but imply Ignorance, and to afford me Relief, be an Impossibility: yet may your Charity extend so far, as to grant me some ease in this my Affliction, whereby no place may be vacant to entertain Despair, since the expense of it will amount to so little a charge: Yet flatter not yourself with vain, or false hopes, that Time shall allay, or pacfy that just Rage, which I shall ever bear towards thee; neither make farther Attempts upon my lost Honour, since thy Designs in that Enterprise will be wholly frustrated; for having already satisfied thy base Lust, I should think thy evil Concupiscence might be lesle inflamed: Impute this your Offence to heat of Passion, committed against Reason, by Accident; and I will pronounce that rash Judgement upon myself, that I was not Born, and brought forth into the World, but to prove Unfortunate; convey me therefore presently into the Street, or at least, near unto the great Church, from which place I can take Directions to my own Home: Promise me, and Swear likewise, not to pursue me, or be at all inquisitive after my Habitation, Name, or Parents; for I would not have them so unhappy as to bear a share in my Misfortunes: Return me a suitable answer, I beseech you, to these my Requests. If that fear doth possess thy Spirits, that thy Voice should discover thyself to me, then answer me in Silence.  
All the answer Octavio returned to the long Discourse of the afflicted Almeria, was no other than a kind Embracing her, as if he intended to renew the Combats of his Amorous heat; which being perceived by Almeria, she used that force and resistance which her tender Years rendered her capable of, and defended herself with that Courage, and Resolution, using her Feet, Hands, and Teeth; then with her Tongue broke out into these following Expressions.  
Know, Cowardly Traitor as thou art, and basest of all Human Kind, without either Fear, or Shame, who ere thou art, those Wrongs which thou hast offered me, thou mightest have exercised upon a Stock, or Stone; for I was bereft of either Sense, or Motion; the Conquest, and Triumph of this Night's Victory cannot but redound to thy Reproach: As for thy second Ignoble, and Filthy Attempt, thou shalt never obtain thy unlawful Desires, unless thou takest away my Life: Though thou robbed'st me of that precious Jewel, when surprised by a Swooning Fit, and acted thy lewdness with Pleasure, and Delight; yet know that now my Spirits are returned to my assistance, thou shalt sooner conquer my Life than gain the Victory over my Honour; for if I, now being able to make resistance, should yield to thy abominable Lust, thou mightest then very well conjecture, and boast, that the Ecstasy I was in, was only feigned, when thou wast so audacious and insolent in the operating my utter ruin and destruction.  
But in conclusion, Almeria used so strong an opposition, and made such a manful resistance, that the Strength, and Courage, and with it, the vigorous Desires of Octavio, were weakened; for the Insolence he had used to Almeria, had no other rise, than from a violent Lascivious Impetuousness; from which root never springs that true Love which is permanent; but instead of that heat of Love, there remains only Repentance, and a coldness of Affection to second it. Octavio, then waxing some degrees cooler, but much more weary, without uttering a Word, left Almeria, to herself in his Chamber, and went to hunt out for his Libertinian Companions, to consult and advice with them, which Method he should take, both for his and Almeria's satisfaction, and safety.  
Almeria perceiving herself alone, and fast locked up, arose from the Bed, and went groping about the Room with her Hands, to search out for a Door to get out, or a Window to leap down. She first found the Door, but locked too strong for her to open it; then she found out the Window, which she unhaspt, and opened the Wooden Shutters, and by the light of the Moon that shone so clear and bright, being in its plenitude, she perceived the Chamber richly Hung, the Bed gilded, and all the Furniture very magnificent; that it seemed rather the Apartment of a Prince, than of a private Gentleman; she summed up the number of the Chairs, which were very rich, and the Escritores, and Cabinets which were very gay and stately: She took notice of the Door, and the Pictures which adorned the Room, though she could not well discern the Figures whereby to describe 'em; the Window was very large, and strongly secured with Iron Bars, a defence against Banditties, and Robbers, which are there very frequent: The Prospect before the Window was a lovely Garden, with a pleasant Fountain in the middle, adorned with all that Art and Nature was capable of: Near it was a little Wilderness, in the centre whereof was a Spring, whose Water was received in a Cistern of Alabaster, which was held by the Statue of a Nymph cut in White Marble: Near unto it stood a row of Orange Trees, whose Fragrant smell was very comfortable: The Walls of the Garden which enclosed it were very high; many Difficulties stood in opposition to hinder her escape, and the view that she had taken of every thing induced her to believe, that the Owner thereof must needs be some Magnifico, and not one of an ordinary Extraction: Wand'ring some time round the Apartment, at length she spied a Table Book, richly Bound in Seals Skin, neatly over-laid with Silver, and curiously wrought, and engraved, with a large Silver Pin belonging to it, which lay upon a Cabinet that stood near to the Window: She took it and put it up in her Pocket, not out of any ill design of Robbery; but being inspired to promote a discreet Design, which her Thoughts prompted her to: Having secured it, she shut the Window, leaving it as she had found it, and returned back to the Bed, expecting what kind of end such a bad beginning would produce.  
To her thinking, it was not much above half an hour after, that she heard a Door open, and some person coming to her, and without so much as speaking one Word, with an Handkerchief Blindfolded her; and taking her by the Arm, took her out of the Room, and shut fast the Door after him. This Person was Octavio, who though he had been upon the search for his fellow Libertines, yet he was not altogether willing to find them, or give them the least intelligence of that Night's Transactions; and therefore resolved to acquaint 'em, that repenting himself of that ill Act, and being moved with the Virgin's Tears, left her in the Midway: Having thus recollected himself, he returned back with all speed, to convey Almeria, near to the Great Church, according to her own Directions: Before the Morning was approached too far, and to avoid the inconveniency of detaining her till the Night following; in which Interval of time, he resolved to exercise no more Violence, nor give any other occasion to discover himself. Having conducted her to the place appointed, he told her in a kind of broken Language, and with a sergeant Voice, She might then go securely to her own Habitation, and that none should follow her to espy where she went; so left her to untie the Handkerchief which he had bound about her Eyes; which before she could loosen, he was got far enough out of her sight.  
Almeria being now at Liberty, she made all the hast she could, still looking behind her, at every step she fetched; going to her Father's House, she found her Parents amazed, and astonished, and so far from preparing themselves to go to Bed, that they had not so much as entertained the least thought of taking any Rest: When they saw her, they ran to her with open Arms, and Embraced her, and indulgently received her. Tears of Joy had furnished their Eyes, and their Tongues could not express their Gladness, for the present, their Hearts being so transported within them: But Almeria's Heart being loaded with Passion, and overwhelmed with Grief, besought her Parents to withdraw into a private Room, and there, in a few Words she gave them an account of what had befallen her, and her unfortunate Success, with all other Circumstances belonging to it, but could not by any means discover the person that rob her of her Honour: She acquainted them with all she had beheld in that Famous Theatre, wherein was Acted that Woeful Tragedy of her Misery; the pleasant Garden, and Fountains, the Cabinets, the Bed, and Hangings of rich Arras; and last of all, she showed them the fine Table Book, which she had brought from thence with her: She likewise told 'em, though she did not desire to come to the knowledge of him, who was the Offender; yet if thèy thought it convenient to have him discovered by the means of that Table Book they might do it, by causing it to be publicly proclaimed, that he who had lost such a Table Book might have it restored at such a place, as the Party that lost it should appoint: So by knowing the Owner of it, they might both know the House, and likewise this Libertine. But (Almeria's Father replied) your Advice, Dear Child, is very pertinent, and would take good effect, were it put in Execution, if the Subtlety, and Craftiness of the World, now in these days, did not make any opposition: For, in all probability, such a Trifle as that may not suddenly be missed; but, perhaps if it should, they would set no great value on it, especially such an Owner, as you describe this Libertine to be, and when he recollects himself, that the Person which was with him in his Apartment took it away, he will rather desire to have it Concealed than Divulged.  
Her Father therefore advised her to keep it secure, for perhaps (said he) in process of time, thou may'st have occasion to make use of it; for as it has been a Witness of thy Dishonour, it may at last be an Evidence to procure thee Justice, and revenge that Wrong which thou hast so lately received: I tell thee, Dear Child, that the least Grain of public Dishonour lies heavier upon us, than a ponderous weight of secret Infamy; True Dishonour consists in Sin, and true Honour in Virtue: The Powers Divine, are offended with our Sayings, Doings, and Desires; and since that thou neither in Thought, Word, or Deed, hast provoked the Divine Vengeance, esteem thyself Virtuous; for I shall ever have that Charity for thee, and continue to thee still a Kind, and Indulgent Father. With these Prudential Reasons, did this old Gentleman comfort up his Daughter Almeria; and her Mother Embracing her, confirmed what her Father had cherished her withal; and desired her not to let any Sorrow, or Grief disturb her Mind, for she retained the same Affection for her now, as she had formerly: Whereupon, she burst forth into showers of Tears, and often did abscond herself, and through Modesty's Promptitude, she betook herself to a Private, and Retired Course of Life, under the Shelter, and Protection of her Parents.  
Octavio in this Interval, being returned home, and sitting down in his Chamber, as he cast his Eye upon the Cabinet, he miss his Table Book, but presently he imagined, the Party that he brought home might take it away with her; he made slight of it, and never made any enquiry after it: Many days before, Octavio had determined to Travel into Italy, for his Father who had been there in his Minority, persuaded him to go, instructing him, that they could not attain to true Gentility, who had not gained it by Experience in Travel; Octavio ●…ut on that Resolution, to be Conforma●…le to the Will of his Father, whom he knew would set him forth in a good Equi●…age; he gave him Bills of Exchange pay●…ble at Sight, for good round Sums of Money, for all those places, whether he intended; so that he, and two of his Libertinian Companions, prepared for their Journey: They had taken up three Places in the Italy Coach, to go for Rome, Genoa, and Na●…; there were three Persons in the Coach, besides themselves, which had taken Places in the Coach, a Lady, a Young Gentleman, and an University Scholar. Amongst all their Discourse Octavio enquired what Italy afforded for the satisfaction of Gentlemen? The Stranger that was in the Coach, told him it was a place very Pleasant, Ingenious, and Witty, for he had been there, and could give a very good account of it: As for the People, many of 'em were of an Effeminate Disposition, he told him, for he had heard many Stories from them, which he could relate, if it would not tyre out their Patience: Octavio, and the Lady told him, he would highly oblige them, and it would prove a very Diversitive Recreation: The Gentleman informed them, that he was willing to contribute any Discourse to the good Companies Satisfaction, and should esteem it as a great Honour, if what he was to relate, should receive their kind Acceptance; so that not to hold them any longer in Suspense, he related the first that came in his Mind, and directed himself to 'em all.  
In one of the Cities of Italy, there lived a Person, a Man, of whose Nature, if one might judge by the Complexion of his Face, that he was a greater Servant to Bacchus, than to the Priests of Diana; he had Married a Woman of a large Fortune, and good Reputation, and who governed her Family and Children very discreetly, at which her Husband was much satisfied: One day it was told him, that his Wife was fallen very Sick, being taken suddenly, and was in very great danger of ending her days; whereat ●…e appeared as sorrowful as a Man might be, and in great Diligence made haste to her relief. He found her in that desperate Condition, that she stood in more need of a Priest to absolve her, than of a Physician to cure her; and therefore he expressed for her the greatest Lamentation in the World; and the better to dissemble his Grief, he spoke faintly, and with a hollow accent in the Throat, in Imitation of his dying Wife; and that Painter must be a good Artist, that could lively represent the sadness of his Looks and Countenance.  
After that he had paid all the Services to her that possibly he could, she then desired that a Crucifix should be brought her; which the good Man perceiving, he cast himself on the Bed, and thinking his Wife past all hopes of recovery, he cried out, and fal●…ering with his Tongue, did Expostulate, O Heavens! What shall I do, I shall lose my poor Wife, I shall become the most wretched, and most unhappy Man in the World! With divers other Complaints. At the last, when he perceived there was no Body in the Room but his dying Wife, and a young Chambermaid, Beautiful enough, and very amiable, he called her softly to him, and said to her, Sweetheart, I am ready to die myself, to see thy Mistress in this Condition; I am so overwhelmed with Grief, I know neither what to say or do, but only to recommend myself to thee, and to Desire thee to take Care of my House and Children: Here take these Keys, and look well after what I commit to your Charge, for I shall not be able to look after them any more.  
The poor Girl being moved with Compassion to hear him express these Words, did endeavour to comfort him what she could, and did beseech him, that he would not enter into so great a Despair; for if she must lose her Mistress, she hoped she should not lose her good Master also. He replied, Sweetheart, it is impossible, for I find myself to be a dying Man, and not for this World, See how the cold Sweat stands upon my Brow; put your Cheek unto mine, and your Lip unto my Lip; and speaking these Words, he forced his Hand into her Breast, whereat the Maid seemed very Coy▪ but he desired her to let all Fears vanish, for if she had any hopes of his Recovery, she must approach nearer to him, and with those Words, he took her in his Arms, and threw her on the Bed. His Wife who had not spoken in two days before, did with her weak Voice, begin to cry out as loud as possible she could, Ah, ha! what are you a doing? I am not as yet Dead; and threatening them with her hand! O you wicked Creatures! I am alive still, and hope I shall not die yet.  
Her Husband and the Chambermaid hearing her Voice, did immediately rise; but she was so extremely incensed against them, that her Anger consumed all the moisture of her Catarrh, which was the load she was perplexed withal before, & caused her to r●…ttle in the Throat, and could not utter so much as one Word; but now she gave them all the Opprobrious Language she could imagine. And from that Minute she began to recover, and perpetually did reproach her Husband, for making so much of his Chambermaid.  
Having ended his Story, the Gentleman appl●…ed himself to the Lady, Madam (said he) you may see the Hypocrisy of Men, that for a little pleasure, they forget all the Sorrows and Pains their poor Wives endure; but we must have so much Charity for him as to believe he thought it the only. Remedy for her Recovery; for seeing all his Kindness and Affection could not raise her out of that languishing Condition, he was resolved to try this Experiment, which indeed proved a Catholicon. Indeed Sir, (replied the Lady) I can't blame you for harbouring so much Charity for your own Sex; but had it been my Case, I should not have rise only out of my Bed, but out of my Grave also, to be revenged on such a Husband. What wrong (replied the Gentleman) Madam did he do to comfort himself a little after he thought she was Dead; for I hope there is none of the Company here Ignorant, that the Bonds of Matrimony continue no longer than Life, and then the Knot is untied. But how untied, (said the Lady?) 'Tis true, the Obligation of the Oath is of no effect any more; but a good Husband, would always preserve the Obligation of Love; he had soon laid aside his Mourning, who could not have Patience, till Death had put a period to her Life.  
By this time they were well forward on their Journey, and the Gentleman told them, he could relate to them a Story which was contrary to this, wherein the Woman was very Diligent to create a Kindness from him. After they had all returned their thanks, they earnestly entreated him to furnish them with what he was pleased to relate: whereupon he proceeded as followeth.  
In Spain there lived an A apothecary, whose Name I shall conceal, who had espoused a Virtuous Woman, a good Housewife, and Beautiful enough to give him content. But as he tasted of divers Drugs, so he did often times of divers Women, the better to enable himself to Discourse of all Complexions; whereat his Wife was so much tormented, that she lost all Patience; for he made slight of her, and loved her not so well, as she expected. One day this Apothecary being in the Shop, and his Wife near at hand, where she concealed herself, the better to listen to his Discourse, there came to him one of his Gossips, a Woman of the City, and troubled with the same Disease his Wife was, and sighing to the Apothecary, O dear Sir! she said, I am the most fortunate Woman in the World: For I Love my Husband as well as I love myself, and perform whatever Obedience, or Duty binds me to to him; but all my Labour is but lost, for he loves the most wicked, the most deformed, and the most nasty Slut in all the Town, better than he Loves me. I would therefore entreat you, good Neighbour, if you have in your Shop, any Drug that may serve to change his Complexion, that you would let me have it; for I am not well used by him; and I assure you, I will give you what ever it shall cost me.  
The Apothecary having a great desire to Pleasure his Customer, said to her, that he had a Powder, which if she put it in something either boiled or roasted, and gave it to her Husband, it would make him give her the best and fullest Contentment in the World; the Woman being very earnest to see that Miracle, desired to know what it was; he represented to her that it was only the Powder of Cantharideses, of which he had great store in his Shop; and before she went away, she constrained him to prepare and weigh out some of that Powder for her; and she took with her so much as he knew would serve to do the Business; for which she afterwards paid him, and gave him many hearty thanks; her Husband being a strong bodied Man, and not taking too much of it, felt no great Alteration in himself, but she found the good effects of it.  
The Wife of the Apothecary, understanding all this Discourse, did think with herself, that she stood altogether in as much need of the receipt as her Companion. And observing the place, where her Husband did put the remainder of the Powder that was left, she resolved to make use of it herself, the first opportunity she could find; which within three or four days after wards she did, her Husband de●…ng her to make him some good Pottage, (for he was troubled with a great cold in his Stomach.) She told him that something ●…ed would do better, and be more profitable. wherefore he commanded her to go presently to the Market, and to buy some what to roast, and to take Cinnamon and Sugar out of the Shop to put in the Sauce: which she did accordingly, and did not forget the rest of the Powder, which he had given before part of it to her Companion; she put it in, without regard either of Weight or Measure. Her Husband eat heartily of the Meat she had prepared, and liked it very well, and not long afterwards found the Heat and Effects of it, which he thought to qualify with his Wife, which was impossible for him to do, for the Heat within him, and the Instigation, was so extraordinary, that he did not know on which side to turn him. Whereupon he persuaded his Wife she had poisoned him, and was very importunate to know of her what she had mixed with his Meat; she confessed the truth unto him, and withal assured him, that she had as much Occasion of that Receipt, as the Woman whom he prescribed it to for her Husband.  
The poor Apothecary could not use any rigour to her, for the wrong she had done him, being at that time in so great an Extremity, but commanded her to go out of his sight, and send for his Brother Apothecary, in the same City, to desire him to take that Trouble upon him to give him a Visit, who administered to him all the cooling things that were effectual for his Recovery. In a short time he was well amended, and his Brother Apothecary did reprehend him very sharply for his rashness, that he should be guilty of so much folly, as to advice another to take those Drugs, which he would not make use of himself; and that the good Woman his Wife, had done no more, than what she ought to do, to procure to herself that Love from him, which she so much desired. At length, the poor Man was forced to overcome his folly with Patience, and to acknowledge it was but just to make that Ridiculous Experiment fall upon himself which he had prepared for another.  
Now Madam, (said the Gentleman) in my opinion the Love of this Woman, was as indiscreet as it was great. Do you call that Love, Sir, to her Husband (replied the Lady) to make him suffer so much torment, in a fond hope that she might receive some pleasure from him? I do believe Madam, (said the Gentleman) that she had no other intention than to recover her Husband's love, which she conceived, if not to be altogether lost, yet certainly to be gone astray; for to obtain so great a blessing, a Woman ought to leave nothing undone to accomplish it; the Lady told him she thought it her Judgement, that no Woman ought to give her Husband any thing either to eat or drink, without advice from others or her own Experience, whether it may prove hurtful; but ignorance ought to be excused, in regard it was a Woman, that was blinded with the passion of Love, and are allowed to be weaker Vessels; they all laughed heartily at the Repartees between 'em, and returned the Gentleman many thanks for his diverting of them; and now being arrived at their Journeys end, for that Stage, they alighted, and called for a Dinner, where we will now leave 'em, and return to Almeria.  
Octavio had no resentments of what had passed betwixt himself and Almeria but appeared very Jocund and Merry, while she in the interim led a sedentary Life in the House of her Parents, with all possible retiredness, not permitting any person to visit her, lest any discovery should be made of her misfortunes; in this Solitariness within a few Months, she perceived, that she was obliged to confine herself, and to be obscure from all Eyes, except those which were continually with her. She saw it was convenient to live Cloistered up, finding to her sorrow, her unhappy condition, in having an Infant, without any Husband, a misfortune which occasioned those many Tears, which were before a little mitigated, but now sprung forth a fresh like running Fountains; those Sighs which for a while remained calm and quiet, rise again like fierce and tempestuous winds that blow against each other; her Mother used all the diligence, that her Maternal care could furnish her with to allay the violence of her passion, but all her gentle persuasions could not afford her sorrows any relief.  
Time fled away with a swift Wing, and the time of her Delivery was come; which was carried with that Secrecy, that she would not intrust any Midwife; but her Mother taking that Office upon her, soon performed it, and brought into the World, a little young Son, one of the loveliest and beautifullest Babes that Nature could produce; which as it was born with wariness and secrecy, so it was conveyed with the like Circumspection to a Country Village, where he continued four years; at the end whereof under the denomination of Nephew, his Grandfather brought him home to his own house, where he was bred up very well, in that which his Minority rendered him capable of; Nicola (for so was the Child called) was of a fair Complexion, a delightful Countenance, and a sweet disposition together with a quick Wit, that in all those Actions which he performed, in that tender age, he gave apparent demonstrations, that his Extraction was of noble parentag●…; so that his Wit, Beauty, and pretty Behaviour, Created so great an affection in his Grandfather and Grandmother, that they esteemed their Daughter's misfortune, to be a happiness; she having furnished them with such a Grandchild. As he went through the Streets, some praised his Beauty, others blessed the Mother that bore him, some the Father that begat, and others those that had brought him up, and had bestowed upon him such good Education. With this applause of those that knew him and of those which were Strangers, the Child grew to be seven years of Age; in which time he had learned to read Spanish and Latin, and to write a very good hand; and made so great improvement at his years, that he was the admiration of all his instructours.  
Now it happened one day that the Child was sent to visit a Kinswoman of his Grandmothers, and it was his chance to pass through a Street where some Gentlemen were running Careers with their Horses, which the Child staying to look upon, and for his better conveniency of seeing them, ran cross the Street, from one side to the other, just in such an ill Conjuncture of time, that he could not avoid a Horses running over him; whose rider with all the strength he had, was not able to stop in the Fury of his Career, so that he left him sprawling on the Ground for dead, much Blood issuing out of his Mouth.  
This sad mischance had scarce happened, when an Ancient Gentleman, who was beholding the Career, with extraordinary agility leapt from his Horse, and taking the Child out of the Arms of him that held him, into his own, neither considering his own Grey-hairs, nor regarding his Authority, which was great, he hastened home to his own House, and sent his Servants immediately for a Chirurgeon; many Gentlemen followed him grieving and lamenting at the sad accident that had befallen so sweet and fair a Child. The ill news presently was dispersed abroad, that the Child which had received the harm, was Nicola, the Nephew of such a Gentleman, naming his Grandfather; this report went from one to another till it reached at last the Ears of his Grandfather and Grandmother, and his disconsolate retired Mother Almeria; who being fully and truly informed of this unhappy Accident, ran immediately out of Doors, in great distraction, so see what was become of their only Darling.  
They quickly understood, the Gentleman that took care of him, was well known to be a person of great Quality in the City; therefore flying thither in a hurry betwixt love and fear, they arrived at the Gentleman's house, just at that instant when the Child was under the Surgeon's hands. The Gentleman and his Wife, who were the owners of the House, entreated those whom they supposed to be the Child's Parents, not to weep, which would do the Child no good but prejudice. They began to be a little cheerful when the Chirurgeon, who was one Famous for his skill, having dressed him, informed 'em that the wound was not so Mortal, as at first he imagined it to have been.  
When Nicola was dressed and laid to sleep, his Grandfather began to give the Master of the house thanks, for the great Care and Charity he had extended towards his Nephew; to which the Gentleman replied that he had no occasion to thank him; intimating to him that when the child fell, he perceived somuch of his Son's Physiognomy in the Face of the Child, that it moved him to pity and Compassion, to take care for that which represented one that he loved so tenderly; moreover he told him he should be kindly entertained in his House till the Chirurgeon had fully completed the Cure, and that he should not want whatever his house could afford him, that was needful and necessary for him; his Wife, who was a fine, noble and well accomplished Lady, repeated many words to the same effect, somewhat more enlarging and endearing her promises.  
The Grandfather and Grandmother of the Child did much admire at this their wonderful Charity and Love, but the Mother much more, for her mournful Spirit being in some measure Comforted by the Chirurg●…s reviving words, she diligently observed the Lòdg●…g where her Son lay, and by manifest signs and tokens clearly perceived that it was the Room, which put a period to her Honour, and a beginning to her misfortunes. And though it were not now so richly furnished as then it was, yet she remembered the Figure and Form of it; she viewed the Windows which were strongly fortified, which looked into the Garden; but that which with the greatest Curiosity she observed, was the Bed, which gave her that assurance, that it was the same, which proved a Tomb to her Virginity, and moreover that the same Cabinet whereon lay the Table Book which she carried away with her, remained still ●…oved from that place where she left it; and lastly the number of the Stairs certified he●… to be in the right by reason she had retained the account of them in her Memory, ever since she was led blindfolded out of the House into the Street.  
When she returned home, she gave a large account to her Mother of these passages, who like a discreet Woman, informed herself whether this Gentleman where her Neph●…w lay, had any Son, or no? And she found that he, whom the Story calls Oct●…io, was his Son, and at that time in Italy; and so summing up the time, that he had been absent from Spain, they saw that it agreed with the age of the Child; the Grandmother gave notice of all this to her Husband, and betwixt them two and Almeria their Daughter, they agreed to wait with Expectation, to see how the divine powers would be pleased to dispose of the Child, who within Fifteen days was out of danger of his received hurt, and at the end of thirty, was upon his Feet, and of ability to walk up and down the Chamber; in all which time, he was visited by his Mother and Grandmother, and was as indulgently made much of by the Gentleman and his Wife, the owners of the House, as if he had been their one Child.  
Moreover, Dona Traciana (for so was the Gentleman's Wife called) Discoursing with Almeria, told her this Child so much resembled a Son of here's who was in Italy, that she never looked upon him, but he put her in mind continually of him, that he was always harboured in her Thoughts; from which Words of hers, Almeria taking upon Occasion an opportunity, when she was alone, which in a little time after offered itself; Madam (said she) the day that my Parents heard of that sad Disaster their Nephew received, their credulity advanced to that pitch, they verily imagined that the Divinity had wholly excluded them, and that all the orbicular Crosses had attended them; they conceived that they had lost the light of their Eyes, whom they loved so dearly, and in such an extraordinary Passion of Love that by many degrees it exceeds that which Parents commonly bear to their own Children; but (as we usual say) that when Heaven decrees the Wound, it likewise prescribes for it a remedy. This Child has now tried that Experiment, and hath found the Expedient in this House; and I myself can recollect my Memory, to inform me of some Transactions which I shall never cease to forget the longest day I have to live, and the last hour that I retain my Senses. I must now acquaint you, (Dear Madam) I am not of Ignoble Extraction, by reason my Parentage proves it to the contrary, and so have been all my Ancestors, whose Progeny with a meaner benevolence of Fortune have still happily supported their Honour and Reputation wheresoever they inhabit, being ourselves, though fallen from their pristine Glory.  
Dona Traciana was strucken both with wonder and suspense at Almeria's discourse, considering how feelingly her words came from her, and could not give Credit, though she was witness of it, that so much discretion could be Comprehended in so few years, not judging her to be above Twenty years of Age; so that without replying so much as one word, she stood expecting to hear what she would further express herself in, which was at length sufficient enough, to inform her of her Son's Lasciviousness, and Wantonness, and of her own dishonour, in the violation of her Virginity, of his hurrying of her away by force and violence, of his tying a handkerchief over her eyes, and of his bringing her to that very room wherein she now was, and giving her many demonstrations, and signal tokens, whereby she certainly knew that it was the same Chamber, which so strongly confirmed her suspicion; and furthermore, the better to confirm what she had related for truth, she pulled out of her Pocket the Silver Table Book, which she had taken from off the top of the Cabinet: then she proceeded in this manner.  
Madam, I hope the divine Powers, who were Eye-witnesses of the wrong which was offered to me, will in their due time revenge my cause, and afford me that relief and reparation of my Honour, as in due satisfaction and right I may claim that interest, from the top of that Cabinet I took this Table Book, to reserve as a Mirror only to put me in mind of the injury I received, but not to imprecate a revenge for my misfortunes; only Madam, I beg of you to exercise your Charity towards me, by assisting me with your comfortable and prudent Council, whereby I may the better be enabled to bear this my injured innocence with strength and patience, this Child (Madam) on whom you have extended the utmost of your Charity, may without any imposturous design claim an alliance to you, it being the off spring of your own Son; and for the disaster which befell it, it was Heaven's decree it should be so ordered, that by his being received into your House, his Mother might hope to find some redress in this her Calamity, if not the Remedy, which is most Convenient for the Curing of her misfortunes, yet at least the means in some measure to support and refresh her fainting Spirits.  
Having said this, she fainted away in Dona Traciana's Arms, who like a noble Lady, in whom compassion and pity, flowed like a mighty stream, had scarce perceived Almeria to faint, but she joined her Cheeks to hers, bestowing so many Tears upon 'em, that there was no occasion of springling any Water on her Face to revive her; while they both thus remained in this kind of ecstasy, it was Dona Traciana's Husband's Fortune to enter into the Room, leading Nicola in his Hand, who beholding Traciana Weep and Almeria, lying in a Swoon by her, he was amazed, and with great earnestness hastily enquired into the occasion of such a Scene of astonishment. The Child Nicola embraced his Mother, as his Cousin, and his Grandmother, as his Benefactress; and he likewise asked the occasion of their Weeping. Great and Strange Transactions I have to relate to you, replied Traciana to her Husband; the ultimate of it is, I can assure you, this Lady, which remains in this ecstasy, is your Daughter, and this loving Boy, your Grandchild; this truth which I inform you of, was related to me by this young Lady, and the Physiognomy of this young-Child confirms it; having often both of us beheld in his Countenance the Lineaments of our own Son: If you give me intelligence of no more than this, Wife, (replied her Husband) I do not understand your meaning.  
By this time Almeria had recovered herself, she lift up her Head, holding fast the Silver Table Book in her Hand, and seemed to be like Niobe turned into a Sea of Tears, all which put the Gentleman into a greater Confusion and Amazement than he was before, till Traciana had freed him from his surprise, by informing him what Almeria had imparted to her; so that at length he was as fully convinced, as if the whole had been proved, and attested by many substantial and credible witnesses; thereupon he comforted and embraced Almeria, and kissed his Grandchild Nicola; and the same day dispatched a Post to Italy, requiring the immediate return of his Son home with all speed, intimating to him that he had concluded a Marriage for him, one that was Rich, Fair, and Beautiful; and such a Lady as was most proper and convenient for him, and very agreeable and suitable to his Condition, Person, and Quality; nor would they by any means permit Almeria, or consent, that either she or her Child should return back to her Father's house, who were indeed beyond measure satisfied with the News of this good Success of their Daughter and only Child Almeria. They returned very often infinite thanks to the divine Powers of granting them this opportunity in receiving so seasonable and happy a redress.  
Nor was it long ere the Post hasted speedily from Naples, and Octavio out of an eager, and fervent desire to enjoy so fair a Wife, with all those Accomplishments as his Father had represented to him; within two days after the receipt of his Father's Letters, occasion of passage being offered unto him for his return into Spain, taking hold of that opportunity he embarked himself, with two of his Libertinian Companions, who had never left him; and with a prosperous Gale of Wind, in twelve days he safely arrived at Barcelona, and from thence (furnishing himself with good Post-Horses) in seven more he came to Toledo, and entered into his Father's House in such a brave, and gallant Equipage as did exceed many in that Country; his Parents rejoiced in great Measure to see him, after so long an Absence, and he was no lesle glad to find 'em in good health, after so long and tedious a Voyage and Journey.  
Almeria, who kept himself in Obscurity, yet from a private Window had a full view, and prospect of him, that she might not transgress the Directions dictated to her by Traciana; she entered into a great Consternation with herself, being dubious what Effects this business would produce. Octavio's fellow Libertines were very willing, and defirous to return presently home to their respective Houses; but Traciana would by no means permit 'em, they being in some measure to be instrumental in effecting of her design. The Evening was near approaching when Octavio arrived, and in the Interim of time that Supper was a providing, Traciana watched an opportunity, to discourse with her Sons two Companions, alone by herself; for it entered into her thoughts, that these must needs be two of those three, whom Almeria informed her of, which accompanied her Son Octavio that Night when he carried her away; and with great, and earnest Entreaties she besought them to oblige her so far, and to give her that intelligence, Whether they did not remember, that her Son on such a Night, so many Years since, had carried away (by Violence) such a Virgin? For to be certain of the Verity of that Night's Transaction, so much concerned her, that upon it depended the Honour and Peace, not only of his Parents, but the whole Affinity of Kindred.  
This she required with so many Endearments, engaging herself solemnly to them, that the Discovery of it should be no ways prejudicial, but should remain in her Breast as great a Secret, as though it never had been revealed. They were not a little surprised at her Words, and acquainted her that it was not customary for Associates to declare each others Proceedings, or make any Discovery likewise of their Frolicks: But seeing she was so urgent, and they ignorant of the Emergency of the occasion, they thought fit to declare what their Memory could recollect; and were it not in so weighty a Cause, as she is pleased to express herself, they were liable to be branded for Betrayers of Secrets.  
Then they acquainted her, that what she desired to be informed of, was of a certain truth, that them two, and another of Octavio's Friends were upon the Ramble one Night, in the Summer time, with a Resolution to Debauch some young Virgin, the next that opportunely offered for their purpose; and they did not know but that it might be the same Night, which she had nominated to them: At last they met with their Prize, which was a Young Lady, walking to take the Pleasure of the Evening, accompanied by her Father, Mother, and Attendants; her they Assaulted, and Octavio took her up in his Arms, and posted away with her, whilst the other three detained the rest of the Company, that they might not obstruct his Enterprise, nor any ways rescue her from his intended Proceedings. The next day following, Octavio informed them, that he conveyed her to his Lodging: What farther Progress he made, they were not acquainted with, neither were they so inquisitive, as to press him to any other Confession, more than what his own Voluntary Inclination prompted him to. This being all which they could relate, they hoped, if it gave her satisfaction, they had discharged their Duty, in Obedience to her Commands.  
This Confession of theirs, was the Key which unlocked the Door to all the Doubts and Scruples, which in such Cases offer themselves: And therefore, she put on that Resolution, to go on with the Design she had contrived, and to bring the Issue of it to a happy Conclusion: To effect it the better, a little before they went to Supper, Octavio's Mother went apart with her Son into another Chamber, and pulling a small Picture out of her Pocket very well drawn by a Curious Artist, put it into his Hands, saying withal, Son Octavio, I intent this Night to make you very welcome, and your Friends, with a very good Supper, and to entertain you with a very Pleasant, and Savory Dish, and for your Diversion, to propose to you a Bride; this is her true Effigies; but withal, I must tell you, that you may consider the better upon it, what Nature, by her Defects, has been wanting to her Beauty, is superabundantly supplied to her in Virtues and Graces. She is Noble, Discreet, Worthy, and indifferently Rich; and since your Father, and myself have made choice of her for you, I hope you will place the greater esteem on her, and not be guilty of disobedience by your Refusal; for I can assure you, she is such an one, as is most proper, and worthy my Recommendation.  
Octavio beheld the Picture with a searching, and judicious Eye; and after he had done viewing of it, If Painter's (said he) who commonly are used to be prodigal of their bestowing Beauty on those Faces which they deleneate, have been busy with Flattery in this Copy, I dare be confident to say, and may very well give Credit to it, that the Original must of necessity be made when Nature was in haste; and instead of perfection, has made use of nothing but surprising Deformity. In truth, Madam, it is but just, that Children should obey their Parents in all their lawful Commands; but withal, it is likewise requisite, and necessary, that Parents should in some measure condescend to what is most agreeable, and s●…itable to their children's Dispositions; for since the Bonds of Matrimony are not to be loosed, but by each other's departure from this Life; nor the Cord, which, like the Gordian Knot, be untied, but by the cold Hand of Death; it were convenient, and much to be desired of every Person, to have Wove in this Knot, where there is Nobleness, Virtue, Discretion, and Riches, to mix Beauty with it in stead of Deformity, which would make a complete Composure, and make a more pleasant Mansion for Love to seat itself. Indeed, Madam, in obedience to my Father's Commands, and yours, I can perform my Duty by my Acceptance; and should all those Gifts, and Graces, which you are pleased to mention, meet in a happy Union; yet if the Physiognomy is not attractive, it will rather extinguish the flame of Love, than kindle the Affections.  
For if Beauty, and good Features be wanting, Matrimony will soon halt, and become lame, and contradict Love which is its second Intention: Therefore, Dear Madam, as you are my Mother, by the Decrees of Heaven, I humbly beseech and beg of you, that you would not let your Maternal care be wanting, in granting me an Object that may create an Affection, and not smother it; for Married Lives are often accompanied with many Misfortunes, and Inconveniences which may usurp, and disturb their Quiet; and should Deformity then appear, all the little Pleasure, and Delight, which Mankind would enjoy, must immediately Vanish. If this Lady be Noble, Discreet, and Rich, she cannot want a Husband, that may happily be of a far more different temper than myself, and more suitable to her Humour, and Disposition; for some seek after Honour, others Riches, others Wisdom, and some for Beauty, of which last property I am one of that number: As for Honour, and Riches, thanks to the Gods, my Ancestors, and Parents, have furnished me with a good Competency of them, and it is only Beauty that can complete my Felicity; one of a good Aspect, Brown Complexion, and well featured, and one on whom Nature has bestowed some Pains, and Care in the Task she undertook: Such a one (Madam) I could freelier enjoy without Honour, or Wealth, than espouse those two chief Idols, which the World adores, than to let Beauty, and an entire Affection be wanting.  
His Mother was very well satisfied with his earnest Motives, and strong convincing Arguments, which indeed carried on her Designs the better, and told him, since he was so much averse to the Match she had proposed, she would endeavour to procure such a Marriage for him, as should be answerable to his Desire, and desired that what she had said might not prove a torment to him, it being so easy to find out a Remedy, and disannul the former Contract and Agreement. Octavio rendered her many thanks for her Care, and the hour of Supper being come, they immediately prepared to sit down; at what time the Father and Mother, Octavio, and his two Friends, being already set at the Table, Traciana, after a Careless manner, as if her Memory had failed her, Bless me, quoth she! sure my mind is intoxicated, to place myself before all my Guests are seated? and one of my own Sex wanting, to whom I ought to be more obliging! go immediately, and desire Almeria to come and honour my Table, and to lay aside all Excuses, for here are none but Friends with me; thus far was her Designs carried on, and Almeria had received before of her, Instructions; a little space after, Almeria, with her Son in her Hand entered the Room, presenting on a sudden in her Person, all the Splendour and Beauty, that either Art or Nature could Contribute; she was very Rich attired, adorned with Pearls and Diamonds, on her Head a Coronet of Ribbons, Tufts of Feathers intermixed with Rubies, and other precious Stones which were interwoven, with them. They cast so great a Lustre that she dazzled the Eyes of all that beheld her.  
Almeria was of a Facetious Disposition, an affable Temper, and of a quick and lively Apprehension; two Maid Servants led the way, with two Wax Tapers in Silver Candlesticks; when they beheld so rare a Masterpiece of Nature, the more they looked the more they were astonished, and all rose up to pay their Obedience, as if she had been some Deity sent from above. Almeria, with a pleasant Deportment, and a serene Carriage, Gracefully saluted, with Modesty, the whole Company, and Traciana taking her by the Hand, placed her by her; the Youth Nicola, was seated by his Grandfather. Octavio was strangely surprised at her transcendent Beauty, that he was even charmed into a kind of Rapture; which gave Admittance to Almeria's Perfections, to take Possession of his Soul; he often contemplated with himself, that had that been a fair Copy, which his Mother showed him, of so blest an Original as Almeria produced, he had been the most happy Man in the World. Nor did Almeria's Eyes, lesle discover her Passion than Octavio's, her Heart was so inflamed, with Love's powerful Darts, perceiving him so near who had conquered her Affections, that she was even ravished at his presence. Sometimes she would recall to mind what had formerly passed between her and Octavio, and then those hopes began to vanish which his Mother had given her of his being her Husband; being Timorous that the narrowness of her Fortune, would not be efficient to his Mother's Promises. She ponderously considered with herself, how near she was of being happy, or unhappy for ever. And so intense was this Consideration, and such the Violence and Strength of her Conceptions and Imaginations, that it infused such Perturbations upon her Heart, and on all her Vital Spirits, that she began to change her Complexion, and to look pale and wa●… in an Instant; and presently fainted away; and in this Trance she fell into Traciana's Arms.  
Upon this, they all rose from the Table, being so surprised, and astonished with this so sudden Passion. They immediately Addressed themselves to procure means for her Recovery out of this languishing Condition. But he who gave most Demonstrations of his Grief, was Octavio, who being in so extraordinary a Passion himself, for mere hast received two falls upon the Ground; but neither the cutting her Laces of her Gown, nor sprinkling Water in her Face availed any thing, to bring her again to her Senses; but the Rising and Pa●…pation of her Breast, and the faint bearing of her Pulse, discovered great symptoms of her approaching Death. So that all were in so great a Consternation, and overwhelmed with Grief, that they were even ●…it for nothing but to entertain Despair. The Servants of the House more Passionate than Prudent, made loud and dolefu●…l out cries that Death had seized her, and that she was a dead Woman. They were altogether in so much Disorder, and Amazement, that they knew not what Methods to take, or Remedies to apply. Octavio ●…ag'd and stormed like one that was Lun●…tick, till his Mother Traciana endeavoured to cheer up his Spirits, by telling him, (what indeed she was not certain of) there was hope of Life.  
This sorrowful News, attended with such woeful Lamentations, arrived, and soon gave the Alarm to the Ears of Almeria's Parents; whom for a more pleasing Occasional Scene, Traciana had kept close and Secret; till she found a fit opportunity, to make public this her private Design. Now without Orders being given them by Traciana, Almeria's Parents hastily rushed into the Room, where they were; but whereas they imagined to have found but one in a Swoon, contrary to their Expectation, they perceived two. For Octavio was become a Sympathizer, in the same Condition with Almeria, his Face leaning on Almeria's Breast, with a Countenance equalizing Death itself. His Mother not presently perceiving his Complexion, as she did the posture he was in, permitted him that Liberty, and was very willing he should be so near her, she being the just and only proper Object of his Love; but when she beheld her Son was likewise Motionless, and lay prostrate for Dead, she was in a manner bereft of her Senses, and had been overcome with Passion, had she not immediately perceived him Breath; Octavio having recovered himself, was not much out of Countenance, for having been seen in such an Ecstasy, since it proceeded from such a sudden Passion, as commonly the Effects of Love produces.  
But his Mother, as one that prophetically knew her Sons Thoughts, addressed herself to him after this manner, Dear Octavio (said she) ne'ne let these transports trouble thee, for they are Natural, and it is usual for Lovers to be inclined to them; I am sorry I have concealed that from thee so long, but it was only out of a Design of a better opportunity; my Intention is now to put thee out of all suspense, and to declare to you the true purport of this Affair. You must know, dear Octavio, that this young Lady which lies there intranc'd, your Father and myself have made choice of for your Wife; and that Picture which I showed you, was only a Counterfeit; I hope you will have no Cause to repent of this our Care, but thank Heaven, and us, for so happy a Union.  
Octavio, at his Mother's Words, was transported with his Amorous Passion, and inflamed Desire; and the Name of Husband removed all those Obstacles, which the Respect and Decency of the place, seemed to oppose to his Affection; he instantly ran to Almeria, and laying his Face close to hers, remained as one expecting his Soul should breathe its last, and either to bring hers back again, or leave his with hers for ever.  
But at length, when all their Expectations were almost at a period, and that their Cries and Lamentations had almost wearied Grief itself. Almeria came again to herself; and with her returning to Life, returned that pleasing Joy and Content, which for a time had absented itself from the Hearts of those that were about her. Opening her Eyes, she found herself fast in Octavio's Embraces, from whence by a Modest force, she sought to unloose herself. But he unwilling to let her go, told her it was not requisite she should depart his Arms, who held her already so fast in his Soul. With which kind Words, Almeria perfectly recovering her Strength, Traciana ordered the Priest forthwith to make an end of the Matrimonial Ceremony.  
Which being now fully concluded, I leave it to some choicer Pen, to sum up the general rejoicing of all that were present; the Embraces and Congratulation which Almeria's Parents gave Octavio; the thanks which they returned Heaven, and to his Parents; the Admiration and Wonder of Octavio's Friends and Companions, who so unexpectedly were Eye-Witnesses the same Night of their Arrival, of beholding so fair a Match concluded; and their greater wonder, when they knew by Traciana's Discourse, that Almeria was the Virgin, which her Son had violently carried away, that Night when they were in his Company.  
Octavio, not being willing to remain in Suspense, but for his better Certification, he entreated Almeria, that she would acquaint him with some Proceedings, whereby he might render himself, the more capable of an Acknowledgement of his Crime, since he was no ways dubious of the verity of it, because his Parents had so well approved of his choice. Whereunto Almeria replied, when I returned (Sir) out of that fainting fit I was in, I found myself in your Arms, bereft of my Honour; but I think it now well bestowed, since in this my latter Recovery, I find myself in the same Arms I did then, but with much more Honour and Reputation: and if this signal token be not proof sufficient, let the Table Book be an Evidence, which none could take from you but myself, which you could not chose but miss next Morning; and if that be the very same which your Mother hath now in her Custody, you are the Image of my Soul which I highly. Esteem and Adore, and you shall ever remain still nearest and dearest to me, as long as Heaven shall permit us to live together. Then embracing her a new, iterating their Kisses over and over, they saluted all the Company there with them; they having now a little respite of time, Octavio's Father enquired of him concerning his Travels, how he had improved his time, and what Diversion he had met withal.  
Whereupon, Octavio replied, he was very well received, and met with very facetious Company; and that in the return of his Journey, they were much diverted with pleasant Stories. Supper being not yet ready, Octavio desired his Friend Gregorius to furnish the Company with one of them. Gregorius willing to oblige them, told them any service they were pleased to command him, he was very ready to obey; whereupon he began:  
There was a Gentleman in Italy, (whose Name I shall conceal,) and name Gallipus, who afterwards for rare Endowments was preferred to Honour, and was highly esteemed by most Persons: he was often invited to Banquets where several Ladies met. One day being in a Mask, he led in the Dance one of the most Brave and Beautiful Ladies that was in that City; when the Music ceased, he always entertained her with a Discourse of Love, which was his chief Delight, but she would return him no answer; but oftentimes to interrupt his Discourse, and to give a stop to his Desires, she would assure him, that she neither did, norever would Love any but her Husband, and would by no means seem to Countenance him. At this answer, the refused Gentleman would not desist, but vigorously prosecuted his Suit for some time.  
But for all his Endeavours, he found her steadfast in her Resolutions, neither to love him, nor any else, which he could hardly believe, seeing the hard Favour, and course Deportment of her Husband, and the Excellent Beauty of herself; he determined therefore with himself, since she used Dissimulation, to practise the same Art himself, and from that hour did forbear his Courtship, and so narrowly enquired after her Conversation, that he found at last she loved a Gentleman in the same City, who was Young, Handsome, and well Educated. Gallipus by Degrees, acquainted himself with this Gentleman, with such cunning and sweetness, that he mistrusted not in the least the Occasion; and the Gentleman loved him so entirely, that next to his Mistress, who was this Lady, there was none in the World that he tendered more affectionately. Gallipus to pluck his Secret from his Heart, did Counterfeit to tell him all his own, and amongst other Affairs acquainted him, that he loved such a Lady, when indeed he scarce ever thought of her, and desired him to keep it private, as he was not dubious at all of it, by Reason he placed in him so great a Confidence. The poor Gentleman to show him a Reciprocal Love, did declare unto him very often the Affection which he had for that Lady, on whose disdain, Gallipus would revenge himself; once a day they met together, to acquaint one another with the Fortunes which on that day they encountered, which the Gentleman did in Reality, and the other in Dissimulation.  
The Gentleman confessed to him, that he had loved this Lady three years, without receiving any thing but good Words from her, and an assurance to be beloved. Gallipus did Counsel and Instruct him in all the ways that possibly he could, by which he might arrive to the Fruition of his Desires, which the Gentleman found so Effectual, that in a few days she consented to all he desired, and there remained nothing but to find out the opportunity, which by the means of Gallipus was brought about. One day a little before Supper, the Gentleman said to him, I am more obliged to you, than to all the Gentlemen in the World; for by your good Directions, I hope to enjoy that this Night, which so many years I have desired. Pray Sir, (said Gallipus) acquaint me with the manner of your Enterprise, to see if there be any Deceit or Danger in it, that I may assist, and serve you, according to the Obligations of our Friendship.  
Whereupon, the Gentleman did particularly relate to him, that the Lady had got the opportunity to have the great Gate of her House left open, in pretence of an infirmity which one of her Brothers had, by reason whereof, every hour in the Night they must send into the City, to help him with some Remedy in his Necessity: She informed him that he might safely come into the Court, but advised him to have a Care how he went up the Stairs, and that he might more safely pass another way, and on lesle Stairs, which were on the right hand; and that being come into the first Gallery, where were the Chambers of her Father-in-Law, and her Brother-in-Law, he should come to the third Chamber, next the little Stairs, and (knocking at the Door gently) if he should find it to be locked, that then he should begun, for he might assure himself, her Husband was come home, but if he found the Door open, that he should softly come in, and lock the Door fast, being confident that there was none in the Chamber but herself; and above all things, that he should not forget to come to her with Shoes made of Felt, for fear of making a noise, and withal, that he should have a great Care, that he came not till two of the Clock after Midnight, because her Brothers-in-Law, who were much given to play, did seldom go to Bed till after One.  
The Gods protect thee, and Guard thee from all Inconveniences, (said Gallipus,) and if my Company may do you any Service, it shall not be wanting. The Gentleman thanked him very heartily, and told him, that in such an Affair he could not be too secure, and that he would go to prepare himself. But Gallipus would not hear of that Ear; and seeing it was the only time to revenge himself on that cruel Lady, he retired to his own Lodging betimes, and had his Beard cut, after the same size of the Gentleman's, and his Hair cut after the same Fashion, that by her feeling she might not find any Difference. He remembered likewise the Shoes of Felt, and did put on such clothes as the Gentleman was accustomed to wear, when he appeared most Gallant, and because he was very well beloved by the Father-in-Law of the Lady, he feared not to go thither before the appointed hour; conceiving with himself, that if he was perceived, he would go directly to his Chamber, with whom he had some Business.  
About twelve of the Clock he entered the House, where he found many Servants, and some others coming and going, amongst whom he passed without being known, and came into the Gallery. And thrusting against the two first Doors, he found them shut, but the third not, having softly knocked at it, he went in, and having locked the Door, he found all the Chamber hung in White, and a Bed of Needle Work excellently well wrought, all in White, that it was impossible to have it better, and the Lady alone within it, having on very rich Linen, Point of Venice, and Jewels, which he perceived through a corner of the Curtain, being not as yet seen by her, for there was burning in the Chamber a great Candle of White Wax, which made the Chamber as bright as Day. And for fear he should be known by her, he first of all put out the Light which was burning in the Chamber, afterwards he put off his clothes and came into the Bed to her, who thinking it was he whom so long she loved, did receive him with all the love that possible she could.  
But he who knew well enough, that it was in the Name of another, did not speak one Word, and thought on nothing but throughly to put his Revenge in Execution, which was to deprive her of her Honour, and Chastity against her Consent; but the Lady was so well taken with that Revenge, that she thought she had recompensed him for his long Sufferings. The Clock had now struck One, which was the time to bid her farewell; and speaking to her as softly as he could, he asked her, If she were as well pleased with him as he was with her? She thinking that it was her Friend, made answer, that she was not only pleased, but also marvelled at the Greatness of his Love, which had held him a whole hour without speaking to her. At that he began to laugh outright, and said to her, now Madam will you refuse me another time, as you have been accustomed to do, until this present? She knowing him too late, both by his Laughter, and his Voice, was struck into an Amazement with the Shame she had brought upon herself, and called him a thousand times wicked Traitor and Imposture, and would have thrown herself out of the Bed, to have sought for a Knife to have killed herself, because she was so unfortunate to have lost her Honour, with one whom she loved not, and who, to be revenged of her, might divulge her shame throughout the World.  
But he held her in his Arms, and by sweet words did assure her, that he loved her with a far greater passion, than the Gentleman whom she loved, and that he would conceal that which touched her Honour, that she should never receive the least discredit: Which the poor Lady believed, and understanding the invention which he contrived to obtain her, and the difficulties he went through to accomplish it, she did protest unto him, that she did love him better than the other, who knew not how to conceal a Secret: But she did heartily entreat him, that for a time he would forbear to appear at any Feast or Meeting where she was, unless it were a Mask only, for she knew well enough that she should have so many Blushes in her Cheeks, that her Countenance would declare it to all the World: This he promised to proform, and also entreated her, that when his Friend should come about two hours hence, that she would make him welcome and by degrees withdraw herself from him; of which she made a great difficulty, but because it was his desire, she at last consented to it; and taking his Farewell of her, he did leave her so satisfied, that she could have been well contented to have had him to have stayed longer.  
After that he had rose, and dressed himself, he made haste out of the Chamber and left the Door half shut and half open, as he found it; and because it was almost two of the Clock after midnight, he entertained a fear that he should find the Gentleman in the way: he retired himself a little into a private corner on the top of the Stairs, where not long afterwards he observed the Gentleman to pass by, and to enter into the Lady's Chamber; whereupon he himself repaired directly to his own Lodging, to take some repose after his Night's Travels, which he accordingly did, and rise not till Nine of the Clock, at what time the Gentleman came to him; who never failed to give him an account of his proceedings, which was not now so good as he hoped it would have proved; for he told him, that when he came into the Lady's Chamber, contrary to his expectation, he found her out of Bed, and in her Nightgown, having a great Fever upon her, her Pulse beating very violently, her Face all on Fire, and a great Sweat running down her Cheeks; wherefore she did immediately entreat him to return from whence he came, for fear she should be enforced to call unto her Maids to come to her Assistance, so violent was her Distemper, insomuch that she said that she had more need to think of Death, than Love, and to discourse rather of Heaven, than of Cupid.  
However she was very sorry, for the hazard into which he had put himself for the Love of her, because she had no power to make him in this World any requital for his true Love, being ready to be gone into another; at this he was so sad, and so astonished, that his Fire and his Joy were converted into I●… and Sorrow, and so immediately he departed. In the Morning, on the break of day, he sent to be more surely informed of her Health, and found for certain, that she was in an extreme Indisposition, and Multiplying his Complaints for her, he wept so abundantly, that it seemed as if his Soul was coming out with his Tears; Gallipus who had as great a a desire to laugh, as the other had to weep, did comfort him the best that possibly he could, and told him, that things of a long Continuance, did always meet with an untoward beginning, and that love did a little draw back, but to come on with the greater force, and to make the delight more grateful; and upon these words they departed.  
The Lady for a certain time kept her Bed, and upon the recovery of her Health, bid adieu to her first Servant, and grounded it on the fear she had of Death, and the remorse of her Conscience, and continued her Familiarities with Gallipus, the continuation of whose Love, (according to the old Custom) was as the Beauty of Flowers in the Fields.  
Gregorius having ended his Story, Supper not being yet ready, he informed the Company that he had one more, if it would not tyre their Patience, which was transacted when he was upon his Travels into France; the Company desiring much to hear it, entreated him very earnestly to relate it; whereupon he began as followeth:  
In the Port of Cauloon, hard by Niort, there was a Ferry-mans' Wife Indifferently handsome, who Night and Day did nothing but Ferry over passengers; it fell out that two Students of Niort passed the River with her alone; and because it is one of the longest passages in all France (to keep themselves in Action) they Courted the Woman in the way of Love; she returned them a very good answer, though not suitable to their question; but they who were not tired with the Journey they had taken to the River side, nor cold by any Distemper of the Water, nor ashamed at the Denial of the Woman, they both resolved to take her by force, and if she offered to cry out, they threatened to throw her into the River; the Woman being as Wise and Cunning as they were Foolish and Malicious, said to 'em, Gentlemen, I would not have you to think me so hard hearted as I have expressed myself, all I desire of you is, only to grant me two things, and you shall then understand that I have a greater desire to obey you than you have to entreat me. The Students Swore Solemnly to her, that she should not ask that thing of 'em, which they would not grant, provided she would perform what they so much desired.  
Whereupon, she told 'em in the first place, that she required both of 'em to promise and swear, not to declare to any person in the World, the kindness they should receive from her; to which they both very willingly consented. Secondly (said she) I require that but one at a time shall caress with me, for I am not a Woman of that Impudence to have any Witness that may behold my Frolicks; therefore make your result which of you will engage first; they found this request very just, and reasonable, and the youngest of 'em gave consent to the Signior the privilege of exercising first; so drawing near to a small Island, she said to the youngest stay here, and have a little Patience, until I have carried your Friend into yonder Island; if at his return he recommends me to you, we will leave him here, and then you and I will go together.  
Whereupon the youngest of the Students leapt into the Island where he attended the return of his Companion, whom the Ferry-woman was rowing to another Island; when she came to it, she made a pretence to fasten her Boat, lest the stream should drive it away; then she applied herself to him and said, Sir pray find out the privatest place you possible can; whereupon the Signior Student entered upon the Island to find out some convenient corner fit for their purpose; as soon as she saw him landed, with one of her Feet against a Tree she thrust back the Boot, which presently returned into the River, and left both the Students in the two Deserts, and then cried out as loud, as she could to 'em, Sirs, pray wait there till I come to you, which I don't intent shall be this day, nor the next week. The two poor distressed Students finding the deceit, fell both on their knees upon the Banks of the River, begging and entreating her, not to put them to that open disgrace, and assured her, that if she would take 'em again into her Boat, and waft them to the place where they intended to Land, they would use no farther importunity with her.  
But she minded her rowing, and cried out, Who'll be the Fool then! I am glad I have escaped a scouring and got so well rid of you; so returning to the Village, she called her Husband and many others to behold this Comical Scene, who attended her with a numerous train, that neither little nor great would stay behind, but would all be participators of this sight; the poor Students beholding so great a Company coming, went and hid themselves, but they were soon found out after some diligent search, and were forced to receive the Scoffs of the Multitude. Every one had their saying, especially the Waterman; who jeeringly said to 'em, What! did you want a fresh bit, Neighbour? Indeed I don't like you should have such an Extraordinary kindness for my Bed-fellow, but I'll pass it by this time provided you won't do so no more: the poor Students could not tell what to do or say, they were so out of Countenance at their Scoffs and Scorns; but they at last happened upon another Ferry-boat, and so made their escape from the multitude; at last these Transactions reached their Governors' ears, who severely reproved 'em for it; but ever afterwards they were free from those absurdities.  
Having ended his Story, Supper immediately came in, and the Musicians were come which were beforehand provided for this purpose. Octavio beheld himself in the Mirror of his Son's Countenance; the Kindred on both sides wept for joy; nor was there any Corner in all the whole House which was not visited with rejoicing; and although time flew away with its nimble Wings, yet it seemed to Octavio not to fly, but to walk with Crutches; so earnest was his desire to be embraced in the Arms of his dear Almeria. At last came that so much expected hour, they all of them went to Bed to take their rest, and the whole House remained buried in Silence.   

THE Virgin Captive: A NOVEL.  
AT what time the Queen of the Northern Island, won, and ransacked the City of Cadiz, Prospero, Admiral of one of her Squadrons of Ships, upon his return home, carried along with him to Mundolin, the chief City of the Northern Isle, a young Virgin about seven Years of Age, contrary to the knowledge of the General, who contenting himself with the spoil of their Goods, left the Inhabitants free in their Persons: And therefore upon the complaint of her Parents, he commanded diligent search to be made for the Child, to the end she might be restored to her Father, and Mother. It seems, she was one of the most lovely Children in all Cadiz; and therefore, notwithstanding all the General's Proclamations, and Threats, Prospero had her kept close, and would by no means obey the General's Command.  
In short, her Parents were forced to sit down by the loss, afflicted, and disconsolate; and Prospero went away not a little satisfied with his Prize: Being arrived at Mundolin, he presented the fair young Virgin, as a rich Jewel to his Wife; but as her kind Stars did direct her, all they of Prospero's Household were Christians, though indeed outwardly they seemed to profess the Religion of the Country. This Prospero at the same time had a Son called Philocles, about twelve Years of Age, well Educated by his Parents; and Sabina, the Wife of Prospero, a Noble, and Prudent Lady, had such a great Love, and Affection for Aurelia, that had she been her own Daughter, she could not have been more careful of her Breeding; and the Child was so well Endowed with Natural Abilities, that she easily apprehended, and learned, whatever they taught her. So that what with time, and the kind usage she received, she at length forgot the Caresses of her true Parents.  
She handled her Needle to Perfection, that few excelled her, and played to a Miracle upon all those Instruments of Music, which became the Decency of her Sex. All these acquired Graces, besides those that were natural to her, by degrees kindled the flames of Love in Philocles' Heart; to whom, as being her Master's Son, she carried herself with all fair respect, and Modesty. At first, Love prompted him on, with only a kind of liking, and Complacency, in beholding the matchless Beauty of Aurelia, and Contemplating upon her infinite Virtues, wherewith she was adorned; and then, within the Bounds of Modesty, he only loved her as a Sister: But when Aurelia began to grow towards Woman's Estate, his former Affection, and Pleasantness, changed themselves into most Ardent Desires, yet Virtuous, and Honourable, all Expectations else were in vain from the virtuous Aurelia, nor would the nobleness of his own Quality, nor the high esteem he had for so much Virtue, give place to any other Cogitations.  
Many times he determined with himself to discover to his Parents, the affection he had for her; and then as oft did he retract his Determination, being assured they had designed him for a higher Fortune; and therefore being much per plexed, and pensive, is ignorant what course to steer. To attain the end of his happy wishes, he led such a Melancholy kind of life, as had almost brought him to the point of losing it. All the whole Family was very much troubled for Philocles Sickness, but his Father and Mother more especially, considering he was their only Child, and had acquired to himself those great perfections that all persons did admire him. All this time the Physicians upon their result could give no report of his Disease, and he being timorous would not discover his Malady: But in the end, being fully resolved to break through these Difficulties, one day amongst the rest, that Aurelia gave her attendance to him, seeing her alone, with a low Voice, but fainting utterance, expressed himself:  
Fair Aurelia, thy great Virtue, and excelling Beauty, not to be paralleled by any, hath reduced me to this Extremity, wherein I languish: And therefore, since my Life is in thy Power, oblige me so far as to preserve it by complying with my Virtuous Desires, and to receive me into thy chaste Embraces: My Designs are truly noble, and of no other ends, but what portend to Conjugality; but conceal this from my Parents, lest they deny me that happiness which so much concerns me. Speak, dear Aurelia, am I that happy object that may seem worthy of thy Love, and be entertained thy affectionate admirer? and though I should never arrive to that felicity of enjoyment, yet at the least approve of this my passion, since my Life depends upon it; for assure yourself, dear Aurelia, never Breast did entertain a purer Flame than mine, or Lover prove more constant.  
To this, with a modest and sober look, Sir, said Aurelia, since the rigour or clemency of Heaven, has deprived me of my Parents, and wholly disposed of me unto yours, I have put on that resolution, that I will ever obey their Will and Pleasure; so that the inestimable Favour, which you are so much willing to confer upon me, without their approbation, will rather prove my Misery than happy Fortune; and if in reality you have given me so large an Empire over you, if they, being made acquainted with it, and shall deem me worthy to deserve you, I shall wholly resign that Will and Consent which they shall empower me; in the mean time your dependence may so far rely upon this, I shall remain yours, in wishing you all the happiness which Heaven can give you.  
Thus these two modest Lovers took their leaves; he with Tears and she with Admiration, she being astonished, to see that Philocles should surrender up his Affection to hers. Being now raised from his Bed, (to his Parents seeming by a Miracle) he was resolved now no longer to conceal his thoughts, and therefore one day he discovered them to his Mother, acquainting her in the end of his discourse, that to deny him Aurelia, and to give him his Death's wound, would prove alike in the experiment; his Mother was not Ignorant of Aurelia's Virtues, and well perceiving the reality of her Son's affection, put him first in hopes and then repeating to her Husband, all the particulars of her Sons desires and intententions, easily moved him to give way to what Philocles so earnestly required, to put off the other match, which was in a manner already concluded.  
At that time was Aurelia Fourteen years of Age, and Philocles twenty. They were indeed the Miracle of their Age, being endued with so much prudence and discretion; and now there were but four days wanting to come before the Nuptials were to be Celebrated; his Parents esteeming more the Dowry of Aurelia's Virtues, than the vast Wealth which was offered with the other Match. The Wedding clothes were already prepared, their Kindred and Friends invited; so that there was nothing wanting, but the Queen's Consent, which among those of Noble Blood, is requisite to make the Nuptials effectual. But when all things were brought to this Fortunate Period, one evening gave disturbance to all this their Joy; a Servant of the Queens brought a Message to Prospero, with an express Command from her Majesty, that the next Morning he should bring to Court his Virgin Captive. Prospero being surprised at the news, made no delay, but dispatched the Messenger with an Answer that her Majesty's Will and Pleasure should most willingly be obeyed.  
After the Messenger's departure, the whole House was in great disorder of Passion, at this unexpected news; which was the overcasting of their Joy, they hoped was so near. The Lady Sabina expressed her fear, lest it should come to the Queen's knowledge, that they were Christians, and had bred her up to the same profession, but arguing backwards and forwards, they did at last conjecture, that they did believe, that if the Queen had known, that they were Christians, she would not have sent them so mild a Message, from whence they might infer, that she was only desirous to see Aurelia, whose unequal Beauty and Virtues had come to her Ears, and those of the Court; but Prospero was fearful he had offended the Queen, by reason he had not presented his Prisoner to her Majesty, be fore she sent for her; but that offence they intended to excuse by declaring, that from the very moment he took possession of her, she was designed for his Son Philocles; but in this too, they likewise found themselves amiss, for contracting such a Match without her Majesty's leave and approbation; however well understanding the utmost punishment of such an error, Prospero and Sabina agreed amongst themselves, that Aurelia should go to Court in that Equipage Equivolent to his Son's Quality.  
Being thus resolved, the next day they invested Aurelia very rich after the Spanish Mode, in a Garment of Green Satin cut upon Cloth of Gold, embroidered with Esses of Pearls, round her Neck a Necklace of Orient Pearls, her Head adorned with a Lustre of Diamonds and other precious Stones, being completely dressed to attract her beholders; this being done in a fair Caroche he conducted her to Court, and so into the presence Chamber where the Queen was; Aurelia being entered into the Room; But, o Gods! with so much Majesty and Humility together, that it was admired how two such distant Graces could meet in one Subject; her Eyes had antipathy to the Liberties of our Sex, destroying all those that beheld them; her shape and motion had peculiar Charms, and she had a certain Air, and Vivacity in her Countenance, that might assure all her beholders, that her Wit was not inferior to her Beauty, and might with great ease be perceived, that time which is the ruin of all other Faces. would but improve hers, she being not then above Fourteen years old. She advanced towards the Chair of State, and with a graceful Humility falling on her Knees before the Queen, besought her Majesty, that she might obtain the Honour of kissing her Royal Hand.  
The Queen continued looking upon her a good while, not expecting so great a prospect to entertain her fight, (as afterwards she told one of her most Familiar Ladies) that she beheld some new Miracle of Beauty, that she had never seen in all her Court before, neither can be paralleled: Some of the Ladies envied her Beauty, some admired her, but all confessed her the Compleatest piece of Nature's Workmanship, that ●…ver they beheld. After some time, the Queen commanded Aurelia to rise, and turning towards Prospero, said to him, Prospero, you have done us wrong, to keep so Rich a Treasure so long concealed from us; but I cannot blame your Covetousness in this particular; however you are bound to restore it us, for by right it is ours, and properly belongs to us. Madam (replied Prospero, with a great submission) what your Majesty has now Commanded, I am bound in Duty to obey; I confess my offence if it be one to have concealed this Treasure, that I might preserve it in that perfection, as was fitting to appear in your Majesty's presence; I must humbly confess, I thought to have much improved it, by craving your Majesty's leave in granting a contract between Philocles and Aurelia, and so to have presented to your Majesty, at once, in these two, all that I am able to bequeath you in this World.  
Her very Name gives us good content (replied the Queen) there could nothing have taken off from that perfection which is in her, but the want of that very name. But why! without our leave Prospero, have you proposed the Marriage of your Son? May it please your Majesty, (answered Prospero) I cannot deny but that I have made a Contract, but it was upon the Confidence that the many and noble Services which myself and my Ancestors have done this Crown, might obtain of your Majesty other more difficult Favours, and the rather for that my Son is not yet Married to her. Neither shall he (said the Queen) marry Aurelia, till he in his own proper person shall deserve her; our meaning is, that neither your own, or your Ancestors Services shall any way excuse him in this particular; but that he in his own person shall merit for himself, and acquire by his own Valour, this sweet pledge, whom we esteem, as if she were our own Daughter.  
Aurelia had scarce heard this last word delivered, when humbling herself on her Knees before the Queen; Madam (said she) since your Majesty has been pleased to Honour me with the name of Daughter; upon so great a Favour, what ill Fate can attend me? Or what good Fortune may I not hope to find, since your Majesty has received me under your gracious protection?  
Now whatever Aurelia uttered, came from her so gracefully, and so winningly, that the Queen was extremely affected with her; and commanded that she should remain at Court in her Service; recommending her to the care of one of the chiefest Ladies of her Bedchamber; the Enamoured Philocles fearing to be bereft of what he loved more passionately than his Life, was almost overcome with grief; but recollecting himself, and falling upon his Knees before the Queen, Madam (said he) to incite me to serve your Majesty, there needs no other reward than that which always attends on Loyalty: And therefore since it is your Majesty's Royal Will and Pleasure, that I should serve you more particularly, I most humbly beg that I may know in what capacity I may tender my Obedience to your Commands.  
The Queen answered that she was then putting out to Sea Four Ships of her Navy Royal, of which she intended to make the Baron of Lansac Admiral, and him Vice-Admiral, assuring herself, that the Noble Blood which ran in his Veins, would supply the defect of his years. She ●…id him consider the Favour which she did him in giving him an opportunity to serve her, for which he should receive the greatest reward his heart could wish or desire; and then told him, that she herself would be Aurelia's Guard, till his return. Philocles kissed the Queen's hand, and having returned her his most humble thanks, for the Favour she had done him, presently went from her to Aurelia, to whom he would feign have spoke, but could not; for Love and Grief had so tied up his Tongue, that had his Life depended on it, he could not utter one word. However the Tears stood in his Eyes, and were so brim full, that they began to run over, which he endeavoured to conceal as much as in him lay; but could not hide them from the Queen's observance, who thereupon took an occasion, and said to him;  
Think it no contemptible sight, Philocles, to weep, nor value yourself the lesle, for having given at this your farewell such tender demonstrations of your Affections; for there is difference, betwixt encountering with the Enemy, and of taking your leave as a passionate Lover; then proceeding, Aurelia (said she) embrace your Philocles, and give him your best wishes, for his generous kindness well deserves them. Aurelia who stood amazed and astonished, to see Philocles' tender affection, and with what reality he grieved for her sake, whom she loved as dearly as herself, minded not what the Queen had commanded her, but melted into Tears, and stood as motionless as if she had been a mere Statue. Which wonderful mutual Affection of these two, did not a little move the Compassion of the beholders; and so Philocles without speaking a word to Aurelia, or she to him they turned away one from the other, and so Prospero and his Friends, having made their obeisance to the Queen, departed her presence, variously distracted in their Thoughts and Imaginations.  
Thus Aurelia now remained at Court, and within two days after Philocles put forth to Sea, resolved to do some extraordinary piece of Service, to win him the Title of Aurelia's Deserver. Six days this Navy Sailed with a prosperous Gale of Wind, shaping their course for the Tercera Islands; a place where never are wanting, either Ships of Portugal, from the East-indieses, or others that come thither from the West-indieses. At six days end there arose such a cross wind full in their Teeth, which continued so long and so violent, that not being able to reach the Islands, they were enforced to make for Spain; near unto whose Coast, at the Mouth of the Straight of Gibraltar, they descried three Ships; one a very tall and goodly Vessel, the other two much lesle. Philocles made up to the Admiral for orders what to do; and at last coming so near he understood that the Admiral died suddenly the Night before of an Apoplexy.  
Philocles by Virtue of the Queen's Commission, being now Commander in chief, went aboard the Admiral's Ship; and now being at his own Liberty, he resolved to speak with those Vessels, which they had so lately discovered; and which after a short chase they found to be Turkish Galleys; 'twas Philocles' Policy at that time to carry Spanish Colours, so that the Pirates believing they had been Spanish Vessels, spent and worn with a long tedious Voyage, came up briskly; which Philocles observing, suffered them to come nearer and nearer, till he had them close within the Command of his Guns, and then letting fly a whole broadside, discharged with so much Fury, Shot one of the Galleys thorough and thorough; upon which the other Galley endeavoured to fly, but Philocles soon fetched her up, then Boarded her, and put all the Turks to the Sword, and by that means set at liberty a great number of Christians.  
Having thus mastered both the Galleys, he made up to the great Vessel, which proved to be a Portugese Prize, which the Turks had taken two days before, very richly laden, from the East-indieses; immediately, Philocles sent fifty Seamen on Board to take Possession of her; and for more security, put into her six great Guns out of his own Vessels. As for the Christian Captives who were most of them Spaniards, he gave them one of the Galleys, with Provision and Money to carry them on Shore: but before they were discharged, Philocles resolved to go on Board the Portugese Prize himself, to see what Condition she was in, and to take Care for the safety of the Goods, and partly out of Curiosity to view the Christian Slaves, and to have the Honour of disposing of his own Liberality. Of all which, when he had taken sufficient notice, the Christians were all put a-Board the Galley, with Provisions necessary for their Sustenance, and Money in their Pockets, saving only one, a Person somewhat Aged, and of a comely Aspect, who Addressed himself to Philocles in this manner:  
Valiant Sir, (said he) I should Esteem it a Happiness for me, amidst my many Misfortunes, that you would rather carry me along with you to Mundolin, than send me into Spain: For though it is my Native Country, and not above six days since I left it, yet can I find nothing there, but what is Instrumental to the reviving my former Sorrows and Afflictions. For know most (Noble Sir) that in the loss of Cadiz, which is now some Fifteen years since, I lost a Daughter, which some of the Conquerors carried away into their own Country; and with her, I lost the comfort of my Old Age, and the Light of my Eyes. And since that no Object yet, could be ever pleasing to them, she being gone, together with my Wealth, which was all at the same time taken from me; myself, and my Wife (which is that sorrowful Woman which sits there) resolved to go for the Indies, the common Refuge for decayed Persons; to which purpose, having embarked ourselves but six days since in a Ship of Advice, we had no sooner put out of Cadiz, but those Pirates took our Vessel, and we became their Slaves, whereupon our Misery was renewed, and our Misfortune corfirmed.  
Here Philocles interrupting him, asked what his Daughter's Name was? he answered, Aurelia; this confirmed Philocles in whatbefore he suspected; that he who told him the Story, was his belov'd Aurelia's Father; and so without giving him any Tidings of her, he told him, that very willingly he would carry him and his Wife to Mundolin, where happily they might hear some News of what they so much desired; and having so said, he presently conveyed them aboard his own Ship, and with a fair Gale of Wind, within nine days they came within sight of Mundolin; being entered the River, and being Landed, great Multitudes of People attended him; he went directly to the Court, where the Queen being in a Gallery, stood expecting the News of her Ships. There was, besides many other Ladies with the Queen, the Fair Aurelia, who seeing Philocles, began to change Colour, and look pale and wan; fear and hope of bad and good Success, distracting her Mind with various Thoughts.  
Being come into the Queen's Presence, he fell upon his Knees, and having kissed her Majesty's Hand, he gave her an account of the General's Death, of his Engagement with the Turks, of his releasing so many Christian Slaves, to whom he had given one of the Galleys in her Majesty's Name to carry them home, only that he had brought one Man and a Woman along with him, who chose rather to be conveyed into her Territories, that they might see the Grandeur of her Majesty's Court. And lastly, he gave her an Estimate of the Prize which he had taken, valued at a Million of Gold. Which done, he put her Majesty in mind of her Promise, in Reference to Aurelia.  
Rise, Philocles, (replied the Queen) I will give her you, not only because of my Promise, but by Reason, she is worthy of you, and you of her; and as you have preserved this Rich Prize, you have taken, for me, so I have likewise kept this Jewel for you; Aurelia, is yours, and when you please yourself may take Possession of her; and I dare say, you may have her Consent, for she is Prudent, and knows well how to value the Friendship which you have shown her; to Morrow wait upon us, and I will more particularly hear you relate unto us what you did in this Voyage, and how Valourously you behaved yourself; and bring those two Persons with you, who as you inform us, were so willing to come and behold our Court, that we may return them our Thanks for their Visiting us.  
Philocles in most humble manner returned her Majesty his hearty thanks for all the Favours she had bestowed upon him. The Queen retired; and then after he had stayed a while, to satisfy the Curiosity of some of the Court Ladies, went home to his Father's House, whither he had sent Aurelia's Father and Mother before, with a Desire to Prospero, not to discover any thing to Aurelia, till he should disclose it himself. The next day after, Philocles went to Court, carrying with him the Father and Mother of Aurelia, both of them newly Apparelled after the Fashion of Mundolin; they appeared all, where the Queen was sitting in the midst of her Ladies, expecting Philocles, whom she was willing to Grace and Favour, by placing Aurelia next to her, having on the same Attire, and Ornaments, which she wore, when she came first to the Court, appearing no lesle Beautiful now, than she did then. The Parents of Aurelia, were strucken with Wonder and Admiration, to behold so much Greatness and Splendour met together; but their Eyes were chiefly fixed upon Aurelia, though they knew her not: However, their Hearts, (as Presages of some good Fortune, being near at hand) began to leap in their Bosoms; not out of any sudden Passion, but of some Inspiration of Pleasure and Contentment, which they could not rightly be Apprehensive of.  
And now it was, that the Queen to divert the Company, commanded Philocles to relate the particulars of his Adventure, and the manner of his Engagement with the Turkish Pirates; which he did with that Prudence, that he gave to every one that had signalised themselves in that Service, their particular due, to the end, the Queen might take particlar notice of their Duty and Services. But when he began to speak of the Liberty, which in her Majesty's Name, he had given the Christians; Madam, (said he) those two Persons, a Gentleman and his Wife, which stand there (pointing to Aurelia's Parents) whom Yesterday I mentioned to your Majesty; who out of the great Desire which they had, to see the Greatness and Magnificence of your Court, did so earnestly entreat me, to bring them along with me. They are of Cadiz, and by their own Information, and my Observation of them, I know they are Persons of no ordinary Extraction, but of Worth and Quality.  
The Queen then commanded them to approach nearer to her; at what time, Aurelia lifted up her Eyes to take a view of those Persons; who were reported to be Spaniards', and more particularly of Cadiz; out of a Desire she had to learn if happily they knew her Parents; which Aurelia had no sooner done, but her Mother looked steadfastly upon her, and diligently observed her Countenance: On the other side, Aurelia began to consider that certainly she had formerly known that Gentlewoman which stood before her. Her Father was also in the like Confusion, yet durst not give Credit to the Truth, which his Eyes represented to him.  
Philocles was very attentive to observe the Motions of all three, whom he saw strangely perplexed, yet not able to disintrigue their Understandings. Nor was the Queen insensible of their Behaviour, Natural to Persons in such an Astonishment. Aurelia thus confused, desired nothing more than to hear the Gentlewoman speak, whom she imagined to be her Mother, hoping that her Ears would put her out of doubt, of what her Eyes suspected; which fell out according to her wish, the Queen commanding Aurelia to speak to the ancient Lady in her own Language, and to ask them the Occasion, that moved them to refuse the Liberty, which Philocles had offered them? All which, no sooner Aurelia had demanded, but her Mother on a sudden, and ready to stumble for haste, without any regard to Place or Person, with her hand lifted up Aurelia's right Ear, and having there discovered a black Mole; the Mark that confirmed her Suspicion, and plainly perceiving that it was her Daughter Aurelia, she could no longer contain herself, but embracing her, cried out abruptly, Daughter! Daughter! and not being able to utter a word more, her Speech failing, fell into a Swoon in Aurelia's Arms.  
Her Father no lesle Prudent than tender, gave manifest Signs how sensible he was of the Discovery; but with no other Demonstrations, than a silent shedding some few Tears, which were observed to trickle down his Cheeks, while Aurelia, who being busy in attending on her Mother, supporting her from falling, turning her Eyes towards him, gave him such an Affectionate Look, that thereby he might easily understand the Pleasure and Contentment her Soul took in seeing her Parents so near her. The Queen wondering at so rare and strange an Accident; this was some Contrivance of your laying, (said she) turning to Philocles: But I must tell you, I don't know whether it was so well done as you may imagine: For we find by Experience, that a sudden transport of Joy, as soon kills, as an overwhelming Grief. Soon after Aurelia's Mother coming to herself, besought her Majesty's Pardon for committing so much Rudeness in her Presence, but had not a sudden Passion of Excessive Joy arrested her Vitals, she had not appeared Guilty of so great an Offence; to whom the Queen made Answer, that such Accidents as these none could withstand, neither would extraordinary Transports of that Nature admit of any Ceremonies; but withal, she was very glad to see her recovered out of that Ecstasy.  
And thus it was that Aurelia came to the Knowledge of her Parents, and her Parents of her; whom the Queen commanded to reside in the Court, for the better Satisfaction of each other; wherewith Philocles was wonderful well pleased: and now Philocles laden with the Queen's Favours, wanted nothing but the Enjoyment of his Aurelia, to which purpose he humbly put the Queen once more in mind of her Promise; who being satisfied, that there needed no new Proofs of his Valour, told him, that after the Expiration of four days, she would deliver Aurelia to him, and confer upon them all the Honour, and Rewards she possibly could. Upon which, Philocles took his leave, being the most joyful Person in the World; for now he thought he had his Aurelia in his Power, without any fear of losing her, which is the last and utmost Desire of Lovers.  
But when Love and Fortune are at Variance, the Craftiness of Fortune is too hard for Love's Innocency; as now it happened to Philocles' Sorrow; for it so fell out at that time, that a great Court Lady, and Favourite to the Queen, to whose Charge Aurelia was committed, had a Son of the Age of two and twenty years called Endymion, being of an Arrogant, Haughty, and Extravagant Disposition; this Endymion then was enamoured of Aurelia, and so vehemently, that his very Soul parched within him; and though in Philocles' Absence, he had by some Signs discovered his Desires; yet he received the least Encouragement from Aurelia, which disdain of hers the more increased Endymion's Flame: in this Agony of Love he discovered his violent Affection to his Mother, acquainting her withal, that unless he enjoyed Aurelia, she must not expect long to enjoy her Son. The Mother admired and wondered to hear such Expressions fall from her Son; on the other side, well knowing the Obstinate Nature, and Eagerness of his Passion, she feared that Love once disappointed might produce some unhappy Accident; yet notwithstanding, as an Indulgent Mother, not willing to cross his Intentions, promised him to speak to the Queen about it; though not with any hopes of obtaining such an impossibility.  
In the mean time, the Morning appointed for solemnising the Nuptials, being come, the Ladies were not a little busy in attiring Aurelia at Court, and Philocles no lesle Diligently employed to Adorn himself at home; when Endymion's Mother coming hastily into the Queen's Presence, and falling upon her Knees, besought her to suspend the Ceremony for two days longer; the Queen wondering at the reason of her demand; whereupon the Lady declared to her Majesty, her Son's Affections for Aurelia, adding with the Fears she had, that if he did not obtain her, he would either grow desperate, or commit some unworthy Action to his own Destruction: The Queen made her this Answer, that she would neither break her Promise made to Aurelia, nor defraud Philocles of his, for all the Interest in the World. The Lady immediately went and acquainted her Son, with the Queen's Answer, and positive Resolution; Endymion flew instantly from his Mother, and in a fury heightened by Love and Jealousy, ran to Philocles' House, and there dressed up as he was in all his Wedding Gallantry and Bravery, challenged him the Field, as one that neither did, nor could deserve so fair a Lady, as he was going to Mary. Philocles preferring his Honour before his Love, accepted of the Challenge, very freely; and told him he had thought he would not have passed so harsh a Sentence upon him, as either to call his Affection or Courage in Question. Then he desired him to name his Place, (the time he supposed was present,) and he would readily attend him, with all the haste imaginable; so soon as he could privately withdraw himself from the Company.  
But the noise of this Challenge soon flew to Court; which so highly incensed the Queen, that she presently commanded the Captain of her Guard to go instantly and apprehend Endymion, who being brought into her Presence, she ordered his Sword to be taken from him, and to be confined close Prisoner to his Chamber during Pleasure. All these things tormented the Heart of Aurelia, and very much perplexed her Parents, who so suddenly saw the Sea of their quietness troubled: However this hurly burly occasioned the Nuptials to be deferred till the next day; which being but a short time, Endymion's Mother resolved to improve it to the best Advantage; and thereupon advised the Queen, that to remove the Quarrel betwixt her House, and that of Philocles, the only Remedy was to take away the Cause; which was Aurelia, by sending her into Spain, and so the Effects would cease; which now it was to be feared would not be easily suppressed. To which the Queen answered, that for the sending of her into Spain, she would hear no more of it, as being a Person in whom she took so much Delight; and that Doubtless, if not that very day, the next following, without all fail she would Mary her to Philocles according to the promise she had made him.  
With this Resolution of the Queens, Endymion's Mother was so disheartened, that she returned not so much as one Word in Answer; and therefore concluding there was no other way nor means left in the World to mollify that rigorous Condition of her Son, nor reduce Philocles to terms of Peace, but by taking away Aurelia, she determined to put in Practice one of the greatest Cruelties, that could ever enter into the thoughts of any Noble Lady, and especially so Principal a one as she was; which was to make away Aurelia by Poison. And because it is commonly the Condition, and Natural Inclination of Women to be speedy, and resolute in what they intent to go about; she made so quick a dispatch, that the same Evening she gave the Innocent Lady her Dose, in a certain Conserve, forcing her in a manner to take it, telling her it was Excellent good against those Passions of the Heart, wherewith she seemed to be troubled.  
Within a little while after Aurelia had taken this Hellish Electuary; her Tongue, and her Throat began to swell, and her Lips to grow black, her Voice hoarse, her Eyes troubled, and her Stomach and Bowels, tormented with Gripe, all manifest Symptoms that she was Poisoned. Presently the Ladies came to the Queen, and acquainted her Majesty, with Aurelia's Misfortune, and certified her that Endymion's Mother, was the Actress in this Scene of Cruelty. There did not need much pressing Arguments to induce the Queen to believe the verity of it, and therefore she went immediately to see Aurelia, who was almost breathing her last. The Queen commanded her Physicians should be sent for in all haste, and in the mean while, before they came, she caused a quantity of Unicorns-Horn to be given her, and some other Preservatives against Poison, which Great Princes have always ready at hand, upon the like Cases of Necessity. The Physicians came and applied their best Remedies, and Antidotes, but withal, besought her Majesty, that she would be pleased to command the Lady to be examined, of what Nature the Poison was she had given her; whereupon, she discovered her Infernal Secret, and the Physicians accordingly applied those Remedies pertinent to the Contagiousness of her Condition, that in few days there was hopes of Life left in her Recovery.  
She also commanded this Lady, Endymion's Mother to be apprehended, and confined to a Chamber in her Court, with an Intention to punish her, according to the Nature and Quality of her Crime. This sad News being brought to Philocles, made him almost in such a distracted Condition, that, he was ready to offer Violence to himself. In Conclusion, Aurelia did not lose her Life, yet such was the force of the Poison, that she lost the Hair of her Head, and her Eyebrows; her Face was strangely puffed up, the Grain of her Skin spoiled, her Complexion ruined, her whole Body mightily swelled, and her Eyes Distilling, ran with Water: In a word, she was grown so foul and ill favoured; that she who till then seemed a Miracle of Beauty, now seemed to be a Monster of Deformity. And they who knew her before held it the greater Misfortune of the two, that she remained in this unfortunate Condition, than if she had died of the Poison. Notwithstanding Philocles made a new Address to the Queen, and besought her Majesty, that he might obtain leave to convey Aurelia safe to his own House, supporting himself with this, that though Aurelia had lost her Beauty, yet could she not lose her infinite Virtues.  
Thou Judgest right, (replied the Queen,) your Request shall be granted, Philocles; and still make that Favourable Construction, that thou hast in thy Possession a Rich Diamond unpolished; I would freely have resigned her up as Beautiful to thee, as thou deliveredst her to me; but since it is impossible, and cannot be retrieved; what was wanting by me in Favour to you, in being overseen by differing it so long, I will make up in Justice Happily the Punishment I shall inflict upon the Criminals, may in part satisfy thy Desire of Revenge; Philocles did very often endeavour to enterceed with her Majesty to be graciously pleased to pardon Endymion's Mother, since the Reasons she alleged were sufficient Motives to embrace her Clemency; in Conclusion, Aurelia and her Parents, the Queen recommended to his Care, and Philocles immediately conducted them home to his Father's House; many rich Presents the Queen sent along with Aurelia of Jewels and Diamonds, which manifested her great Affection, and Love she had for her; she remained for the space of two Months, without being of ability to be restored to her former Beauty. But time flying away, her Skin began to fall and to peel of, and a smooth Grain appeared, and discovered itself.  
In this interval, Philocles' Parents, presuming it was not possible, that Aurelia should become the same Woman, which heretofore she was; resolved to send for that Northern Lady, with whom Philocles, by Agreement was to marry, before they knew of his Affection to Aurelia, and this resolve they put in Execution, without acquainting him with their Design; not doubting but that the present Beauty of this new Bride, would withdraw his Affection from Aurelia, whom they purposed, with her Father and Mother to send into Spain, and to gratify with such store of Wealth, as should fully recompense their former losses which they had received, and sustained.  
There passed not above six Weeks, when without Philocles' Knowledge, the new Bride arrived at his Father's House, with great Attendance, which accompanied her in her Journey; she was indeed a fair, and Beautiful Person, that next to Aurelia, when she was in her primitive Perfection; there was not her equal in all Mundolin. Philocles was infinitely amazed at the unexpected sight of the Lady, and so much fear immediately seized upon his Spirits, lest the suddainess of her coming, should surprise Aurelia, and create in her some violent Passion, and put a period to her Life; and therefore to remove this Obstacle of Fear by a timely Prevention, he went to the Bedside, where Aurelia lay; and finding only his Father and Mother in the Room, he sat down by her, and taking her by the hand.  
Aurelia (said he) my visit to thee at this time is, to inform thee of a very pretty passage, which indeed has created in me a Wonder and an Admiration, and by Reason I would not have you surprised, I come at this time to acquaint you with the pleasantness of the Intrigue; my Parents out of their great Love and tender Affection towards me, remaining as yet without full Satisfaction of being informed, of that extraordinary Passion of Love, which I ever had, and ever continue for thee, have brought a Lady hither, with whom they Design I shall Mary, not in the least ask my Gonsent, or enquiring into my Resolutions, nor having that Patience to expect thy Recovery; but I am apt to think, that their Conceptions are such, they believe, the great Beauty of this Lady, will induce me to relinquish you in this present Condition. But know, dear Aurelia, that your Perfections are so deeply imprinted in my Mind, that none but the Iron Teeth of time, with putting a period to my Life, can ever raze them out; from the first time I beheld thee, I admired and loved thee, and with so pure a flame, and free from all ends of sensuality, that I could have out-vied Plato, to enjoy thy Friendship. Though thy Beauteous Aspect did Captivated my Senses, yet thy infinite Virtues took my Soul Prisoner: So that being Beautiful I loved thee, now thou art Deformed I adore thee; and for a farther Testimony of this my real Affection, by this, and this, and this, (imprinting several Kisses on her Lips) I for ever vow myself yours, from this very hour, and nothing shall be wanting to complete our Happiness.  
Aurelia remained in some suspense upon these Words of Philocles; and knew not well what to say or do, but often kissed his Hand; till at last trembling, she told him with many Tears that she freely accepted of his Affection, and wholly resigned herself up to his Disposal. Her Parents were amazed and astonished at the passionate Expressions of these two Lovers, that they could not refrain from Weeping; Philocles desired them not to put on Grief, but told them withal, that he had never any Inclinations to the Northern Lady, neither would he withdraw his Affections from their Daughter, and if his Parents according to their Design should desire Aurelia's and their departure to Spain, that he would not have them decline it, but by all means accept of their proffer, and take the Voyage; and that they should certainly expect him within two years afterwards either at Cadiz or Sevil; assuring them upon the Word of a Gentleman, that e'er that time was expired, he would not fail to be with them if Heaven permitted him so long Life; but if the time perfixed should be preterlapsed, they should then rest assured that some great Misfortune or Death which was the more certain, had crossed his intended Journey.  
Aurelia told him, she would not only wait two years for him, but as long as she lived, till she heard the sorrowful News of his Death; and whenever that harsh Note should reach her Ears, it would prove Instrumental to finish her Days; with these kind Expressions fresh Tears sprung from the Fountains of all their Eyes; and Philocles went immediately to his Parents and informed them, that he could entertain no such thoughts as to accept of their Kindness, in Marrying the Northern Lady, till by a twelve months' Travel, he had qualified himself fit for a Matrimonial Life, farther telling them, that considering the solidity which belongs to that State, he would willingly make these Preparations to it, that nothing hereafter might disturb his Happiness. He used such Arguments, and laid down so good Reasons for what he said, to the Parents of Livia, (for that was the Lady's Name) that they were all very well satisfied, and Livia was contented to remain in her Father-in-Law's House, till Philocles returned after a year's Travel.  
This being thus concluded and agreed upon, Prospero told Philocles of his Resolution of sending Aurelia and her Parents to Spain, if the Queen would be pleased to grant him that Liberty to effect it, for (continued he) perhaps the Air of her own Country will hasten and facilitate her Health, which now she begins to recover. Philocles that he might not give the least Suspicion of his Design, answered (though but coldly) his Father, that he might use his own Discretion and Pleasure, only he besought him, not to take from Aurelia any of those Riches the Queen had bestowed upon her. Prospero did promise & engage to him, that he would not command any thing from her which was her own; the same day he went and waited upon the Queen, to ask her Majesty's Consent, as well for the matching of his Son to Livia, as for the sending of Aurelia, with her Father and Mother into Spain.  
The Queen was well pleased at both his Requests, and approved of Prospero's Determination; and the same day without calling Endymion's Mother in Question, she dismissed her from her place in her Bedchamber, and Fined her ten Thousand Crowns to be paid to Aurelia. As for Endymion she banished him for six years. Four days were scarce passed and gone, but that Endymion, began to take Order for his Banishment, having already given Directions for the returning of his Money.  
The Queen then sent and commanded a Rich Merchant that dwelled at Mundolin, to come to her, who had a very good Correspondency in France, Italy, and Spain; to whom she delivered ten thousand Crowns, and required of him Bills of Exchange, for the returning of 'em to Aurelia's Father in Sevil, or any other part of Spain. The Merchant discounting his Interest and Profit, told the Queen that he would make certain and sure Payment of them in Sevil, by Bills of Exchange upon another French Merchant, his Correspondent, in this manner and form, viz. That he would write to Paris, to the end, that the Bills might be made there by another Correspondent of his, because they would accept and allow of those that came from France, but not from this Island; by reason of the Prohibition, betwixt those two Kingdoms; and that a Letter of Advice from him should serve turn, by a private mark that passed between them two; and that without any more ado, the Merchant of Sevil, should pay him the Money by the Letter of Advice he would receive from Paris.  
In fine, the Queen took such good security of the Merchant, that she made no doubt of the true payment of it. And not contenting herself with this, she sent for the Master of a Flemish Ship that lay in the River, and was to put forth the day following for France, only to take Testimony thereof in some Port, that he might be the better able to pass into Spain, under the Title of coming from France, and not from the Island; whom she earnestly entreated to carry with him in his Vessel Aurelia, and her Parents, and that he should use them well and kindly, and Land them in Spain, at the very first place he should come at on that Coast. The Master who desired to give the Queen Content, told her Majestv that he would do it, and that he would Land them either in Lisbon, Cadiz, or Sevil; having taken sufficient security of the Merchant, and assurance from the Master, the Queen by way of Message, sent unto Prospero to forbid him the taking any thing away from Aurelia either of Jewels or clothes which she had given her.  
The next day Aurelia with her Father and Mother, went to Court to take their leaves of the Queen, who received them with a great deal of Love, and Favour: the Queen gave them the Merchant's Letter, and many other Gifts, as well in Money, as other Curious things for their Voyage. Aurelia with so much Elegancy expressed her thankfulness to her Majesty, for all Honours, and Favours received from her, that she Created in the Queen, fresh Obligations from her, to continue her Favours still towards her. She took her leave likewise of the Ladies; who now that she was grown disfigured, was very sorry she should leave them, seeing themselves free from that envy they had against her Beauty, and would have been very well contented, to have enjoyed her Gifts of Wit and Discretion; the Queen embraced all three of them, and recommending them to their good Fortune, and to the Master of the Ship; and laid her commands upon Aurelia to Advertise her of her safe arrival in Spain, and from time to time, of her welfare by the way, of the French Merchant; she took her leave of Aurelia, and her Parents, who that very Evening embarked themselves; Prospero and his Wife, with the whole Family shed many Tears, extremely troubled at her unfortunateness and departure.  
At this their taking their leaves Philocles was not present, but procured some Friends to go abroad with him that day a Hunting; the better to divert him from expressing his Grief, and giving demonstrations of his Sorrow; the Gifts which the Lady Sabina gave Aurelia at her Voyage were many, her Embraces infinite, and her Tears plenty; her earnest entreaties that she would often write to her were numerous; and the thanks rendered by Aurelia and her Parents where answerable thereunto; so that though weeping, they left each other very well satisfied.  
That night the Ship hoist Sail, and having with a prosperous Gale of Wind touched upon the Coast of France; and there taking in such fr●…sh provisions as were necessary for their Voyage into Spain: within thirty days after they entered into the B●…rr of Cadiz where Aurelia and her Parents disimbarqued themselves; and being known by all those of the City, they received them with Expressions of much joy; likewise they received a thousand praises, and thanksgivings which was invocated to Heaven for the finding out of their Daughter Aurelia and of their Liberty which they had obtained, being first Captivated by the Moors, and afterwards by the Northern Islanders; having been made acquainted with all the Transactions of their Affairs, by those Captives whom the liberality of Philocles had set free.  
And now Aurelia in the mean time began to give great hopes of returning to a speedy recovery of her former Beauty; however they remained but a little more than a Month in Cadiz to refresh themselves of their weariness after their long and tedious Voyage; but went from thence to Sevil, for to see whether the payment would prove good of the ten thousand Crowns, which were to be placed to the Account of the French-Merchant, who had undertaken for to see it disbursed. Two days after their arrival at Sevil, they enquired after him, and found him out, and gave him the French Merchants Letter, upon which he excepted of the Bill; but told them, that until he had received Letters from Paris, and a Letter of Advice, he could not pay them the Money, but withal he expected every moment to receive Advertisement of it.  
Aurelia's Parents had hired a very fair House, over against Santa Paula for the Conveniency of being near a Kinswoman of theirs, which was a Nun in that Monastery; and by reason Aurelia had informed Philocles, that if he made any enquiry after her, he should find her in Sevil; and that her Kinswoman a Nun of Sancta Paula would direct him to her House; and that for his better Information, and Knowledge; he needed give himself no farther trouble, than to inquire for that Nun which had the best voice in the Monastery; this being a very good token, and not easily to be forgotten; for indeed she had the rarest and sweetest Voice in all Spain.  
It was forty days, before Letters of Advice came from Paris, and within two days after they were come, the French Merchant paid the Ten thousand Crowns to Aurelia, and she delivered them to her Parents; and with them and some other which they had got together, with some of Aurelia's Jewels which they sold; her Father began again to follow his Trade of Merchandise, not without the admiration of those who knew his great losses. In short, within a few Months Aurelia's Father repaid his lost Credit, and Aurelia's Beauty returned to its former perfection: Insomuch, that when any discourse arise concerning fair Women, all of them gave the Laurel to the Northern Spaniard, who was as well known by this Name, as she was for her Beauty throughout the whole City.  
By the French Merchant of Sevil's Order, Aurelia and her Parents Writ Letters to the Queen of the Northern Isle, of their safe Arrival in Spain; but penned with such humble acknowledgements and submissions, as the many Favours received from her Majesty, did require; they likewise writ to Prospero and his Lady Sabina, Aurelia Complementing them with the Title of Father and Mother; and her Parents Stileing them their dearest and best Friends: From the Queen they received no Answer, but from Prospero and his Lady Sabina, they had a return, wherein they Congratulated their safe Arrival, certifying them, that their Son Philocles, the next day after their departure went for France, with an intention to visit some other parts of Christendom, being requisite and necessary for him to go, the better to ease his mind, which he confessed to them was so much disturbed; adding to these other discourses and Compliments of much Love, and Affection, besides many other fair and Friendly protestations; to which Letters of their●… they returned another in answer no lesle Courteous and Loving than Thankful.  
Aurelia presently imagined, that Philocles leaving his Country, was upon his Voyage into Spain, to find her out, and flattering herself with this fond hope, she began to lead the most contented Life in the World, and studied to live in such a serious manner, that when Philocles should come to Sevil he might soon hear the good report that went of her Virtues, then come to the knowledge of her House. Seldom or never did she go out of Doors, unless it were to the Monastery, but spent all her whole time in retiredness, and good desires waiting with Expectation the welcome news of the Arrival of Philocles.  
This her great retiredness did set on Fire and inflamed the Hearts and desires not only of the young Gallants of that Street where she dwelled, but of all those who but once had a sight of her; in the Night she was disturbed often with Music, serenading at her Window, and in the day careering with their Jennets, and from this her not suffering herself to be seen, and from others much desiring to see her en●…s'd, their finding out of cunning Bawds which were Mistresses in their Art, and promised no lesle to show themselves so, in soliciting Aurelia; and there were not some wanting, who endeavoured to bring this their wicked purpose to pass, by Witchcraft, Charms, Sorceries, Philters, and the like lewd Courses; but against all these Aurelia was like a Rock in the midst of the Sea, against which the Winds, and the Waves ●…eat, and dash against it to no purpose.  
A year and a half was now fully passed when the approaching hope of those two yea●…s promised by Philocles began with more earnestness than hitherto it had done, to vex and grieve the Heart of Aurelia; but whilst she was Contemplating with herself, that Philocles was come, and that she had her desired object before her eyes, parleying with, and questioning him of the occasion of delaying his coming, and of his keeping so long from her, and then imagining to herself the just excuses which Philocles pleaded for his long absence, and how willingly she believed and received them, and how lovingly and affectionately she embraced him in her Arms and hugged him in her Bosom, as being part of her own Soul; then, even then when she was in the height of all her hopes, a Letter came to her Hands from the Lady Sabina, baering date from Mundolin, some fifty days since, it was written in the Tongue of the Island, but she read it in Spanish as followeth.  
Sabina to Aurelia.  
DAughter of my Soul, Bilonio, Philocles' Page, accompanied his Master in his journey, and by a former Letter jadvertized you, that Philocles made for France, the second day after your Departure, and from thence was to Travel farther; we have received no News from him this Sixteen Months, but yesterday Bilonio the Page, came home, and brought with him these sorrowful tidings, That Endymion had by Treachery killed Philocles in France; therefore (Daughter) Consider in what a Deplorable Condition, his Father, myself, and Livia his Bride are upon the Arrival of this heavy Intelligence; the portent of it is such, that it has left no room for hope, but to entertain despair of ever overcomeing this our Misfortune. My earnest entreaties and best wishes are that you would still think of Philocles, who loved you with so real an Affection, and for the Sake of him, to invocate the Divine Powers to assist us in this Ex●…remity, and to grant us Patience, to our ●…ives end.  
Your disconsolate Mother, SABINA.  
By the Letter, Hand, and Seal, there ●…as not any the least doubt left to Aurelia ●…or not giving Credit to the Fatal News ●…f the Death of her dear Philocles. She ●…new very well his Page Bilonio was a 〈◊〉 true and faithful Servant, and no way ●…endaciously given, and that he had no ●…eason to forge this, as an Experiment to ●…ry her affection, and as little his Mother Sa●…ina; being it would import them nothing in ●…ending her news so sorrowful; in conclusion ●…he could no ways divert her imaginations, ●…r put out of her thoughts in the least, ●…he contradiction of this unfortunate News. After she had read the Letter, without shedding a Tear, and without showing any sym●…toms of Sorrow, with a Serene counte●…ance, and to appearance a quiet and con●…ented mind, she rose from the Couch where she sat, and kneeling down De●…outly, made a Solemn Vow to live a single Life all her days, since the God's ●…ad deprived her of her dear Philocles, and left her a Widow.  
Her Parents dissimulated their dolorous Grief, and covered their Sorrows with their discretion, which this sad news had occasioned in 'em, that they might be the better enabled to comfort their Daughter Aurelia in the anguish of her Affliction, who being now as it were fully satisfied o●… her Sorrow, moderating it with the resolution which she had put on, she fell to comforting of her Parents, to whom she discovered her intent; but they advised her that she should not put it in Excecution, but to stay till the two years were overpast which Philocles had limited for his coming; for thereupon much depended, the Confirmation of the verity of Philocles' death, and she might then with more safety and security change this her Estate and Condition.  
Aurelia followed their advice, and 〈◊〉 the remaining Six Months she spent them in the exercises of a Religious Virgin; and for the better preparing and fitting of herself, for her entering into the Monastery, having made choice of that of Sancta Paula where her Cousin resided; but now the term of the two years where expired, and the day approached wherein she was to take upon her the Religious Habit; the news whereof was soon spread throughout the whole City, not only amongst those who knew her by sight, but among those ●…lso that knew her only by report; now ●…n regard the Monastery stood not far off ●…rom Aurelia's House, and her Father invi●…ing his Friends, and Acquaintance, Aurelia ●…ad one of the noblest and most honoura●…le Trains to accompany her thither, as upon such occasions was ever seen in Sevil.  
Thus has the Story brought this poor distressed Lady to the very brink of theprecipice; she that thought she had a loving Husband alive, being now deceived and frustrated of all her hopes, is now going to renounce the World, and dedicate herself to a retired Life remote from those pleasures which she thought to have enjoyed. Now in the manner of the Ceremony, there accompanied her the Assistant, the Dean of the Church, and the Vicar-General to the Archbishop, with all the Ladies and Gentlemen of Title, and Quality, or Eminent Note that were in the City; so great was the desire which all of 'em had to behold the resplendent rays of Aurelia's Beauty, which had so many Months suffered an Eclipse; and by reason it is the Custom, and fashion of those Virgins, which take upon 'em the religious Habit, to deck and adorn them selves, as bravely and as gallantly as they possibly can device, who as one, that ever after, from that instant, sets up her rest, and takes her leave and farewell of all bravery, and wholly discards it. Aurelia was willing (that she might not break so Ancient a Custom) to attire and set forth herself in the best and most curious manner, that possibly she could invent; and therefore she arrayed herself in the same Gown and Girdle, and those rich dress which she had on when she went to Court, with all those other ornaments of Pearls and Diamonds which the Northern Queen bestowed upon her.  
Aurelia went out of her House on Foot; for her being so near unto the Monastery excused Coaches, though they repented afterwards they did not take them; for the concourse of the People was so great, that they would scarce give them way to get to the Monastery. Some showered Blessings on her Parents, others thanked Heaven for enriching her with so much Beauty, some stood on tiptoe for to view her, others having had a Prospect of her, ran to get before that they might satisfy the curiosity of their Eyes to see her again; but he that showed himself most solicitous in this Multitude, and in so extraordinary a manner, that many took great notice of him; was a person clad in a Slave's Habit, which they commonly wear, when they are redeemed and return home from their Captivity; this Captive then at that very juncture of time that Aurelia had set one Foot within the porch of the Covent, as the Prioress and the Nuns were come forth to receive her; with a loud Voice, he cried out, Stay, Aurelia, stay; for whilst I am a live thou canst not enter into any Religious Order; at the hearing of these words, Aurelia and her Parents looked back, and espied a Person forcing his way through the thickest of the throng; which was the Captive making towards them; in the crowd his Fur Cap which he wore, was lost off his Head, which made a discovery of a confused and entangled skein of Golden wired Hairs, curling themselves into Rings, and a Countenance intermixed with Snow and a Vermilion Colour, so pure Red and White was his Complexion, having withal a curious Aspect; all which gave them such assured signal demonstrations, that induced them to believe he was a Stranger.  
In short by pressing through the people with such haste, he received many falls by the way; but having as nimbly recovered himself, he came at last where Aurelia was, and taking her by the Hand, Dost thou not know me Aurelia, (said he?) Behold, and view me well! I am thy dear Philocles. Yes I know thee (replied Aurelia) if thou art not a walking Spirit, or some false assumed Apparition, that is come to disturb my repose. With that Philocles with Tears in his Eyes, besought her that the strangeness of that Garb, wherein she now beheld him; might not prove any bar or hindrance to her better knowledge of him, and that this his mean and dejected Condition might not be any stop to the fulfilling of those Vows and faithful Promises, which they had so solemnly given to each other. Her Parents drew by degrees nearer to him, and viewing him very narrowly, in conclusion came certainly to know him: Aurelia notwithstanding the news of his death, chose rather to give more Credit to her Eyes, by the object which she had present before her, than to trouble herself to make any further needless enquiry, and therefore kindly Embracing the Captive; You are doubtless (said she) the person who can only hinder my determination, as being really my Husband, and can be no lesle than the better part of my Soul; and though thou hast been absent from thy Aurelia so long, yet I have thee Imprinted in my Memory, and have fixed thee so firm in my Heart, by so true an Affection, that no Object in this World can undermine it. Turn therefore, dear Philocles, to my Father's House, which is wholly at your Command, and there take possession of your faithful Aurelia.  
At the hearing whereof the standers by, where all of 'em struck with admiration, and stood amazed as people astonished; and nothing would serve them but a present satisfaction of their Curiosities, by hearing a relation of the whole Trasactions: Whereupon Aurelia's Father told them, that the History required another place, and more time, to unfold it in, than opportunity at that present offered itself; and therefore besought them, since they were so willing and eager to understand it, that they would be pleased to return back with him to his House, and there he would give them a true and perfect Account, to their full satisfaction. This was no sooner said, to appease the People, but a blunt Fellow among the Crowd cried out, gentlemans this man is a great Pirate, for I know him well enough, though he it may be thinks I done't; this is he whom some two years since, and somewhat more; took from the Pirates of Algiers, a Portugal Ship, which came from the Indies: Ye need not doubt, but that this is the same Man, for I confidently tell you that I know him; for he gave me my Liberty, and Money to bring me home to Spain; therefore Neighbours I tell you, I know him: And at that time, he did not only free me, but three hundred Captives more besides, furnishing them with Victuals, and Money. With these Words the Vulgar were in an uproar, and the desire afresh revived, which all of them were possessed of, to know, and see such Intricate Riddles as these to be clearly Explained.  
In short, the Persons of more especial Rank, and Quality, returned back to accompany Aurelia to her House, leaving the Nun's sorrowsul, and weeping, that they had lost so fair a Sister, and Companion, as Aurelia; who arriving at home, she brought the Gentlemen into a spacious large Hall, and entreated them to sit down; and although Philocles was willing enough to take upon him to give the Relation, yet notwithstanding, he chose rather to trust Aurelia's Tongue, and Discretion with it, than his own: All that were present were in a still silence, and having their Ears, and Hearts ready prepared to be Aurelia's Auditors, she began to relate the Story, which I abbreviate to this: She delivered an account of all that had happened from the very day that Prospero, by Stealth, carried her away from Cadiz, till her return thither again; not omitting the Battle which Philocles fought with the Turks, and the Liberality, and Bounty which he had used towards the Christians; and the Solemn Vows which both of them had engaged each to other, to be Husband and Wife; the Promise of two Years, the News which she had received of his Death, and that so certain, as she apparently thought, that as a Motive it induced her to that Estate which so lately they had seen her, of professing herself a Nun: She likewise acquainted them with the Northern Queen's Bounty towards her; also of Philocles, and his Parent's Affection towards her: So ending her Relation, she desired Philocles that he would relate what had befallen him from the time that he left Mundolin, until this very present.  
Which done, Philocles likewise made a short Relation of what had happened to him since Aurelia's Voyage for Spain, telling them how he had been pursued by his Rival Endymion; who with four others, set upon him, and Shot him into the Body with four Pistols, leaving him for dead; and that his Servant, awakened with the Noise, out of fear, leaped down from a Window, and hied him out of the Inn with such fear, and haste, that he did not so much as look back, or make any stay till he came to Mundolin; so that he might well bring the News of his Death; and that it was two Months, and better, before he was able to Travel; at the end of which he came to Genoa, where he found no other Passage, save two small Boats, which he, and two other principal Spaniards hired; that as they were coming for Spain, they were taken by the Turks, and stripped of all that they had, even to their naked Skins; and that the Turks carried him to Algiers, where he found the Fathers of the Order of the Blessed Trinity, treating about the redeeming of Christian Captives, with whom he discoursed; and that they, moved out of Charity, though he was a Stranger to them, redeemed him for three hundred Ducats.  
In conclusion, (said he) I came to Spain, with fifty redeemed Captives: In Valen●…ia, we made a general Procession, and from thence, every one went his own way which he liked best, with these Ensigns, and Tokens of their Liberty, which are these poor kind of Habits. This day I entered this City, with so great, and earnest a desire to see my Dear Aurelia, to whom I was engaged; that without any other things detaining me, I enquired for this Monastery, where I was to receive intelligence of her; for further Confirmation of what Philocles had already said, Heaven had so ordained it, that a Florentine Merchant was present at all this, who was to pay him ten thousand Ducats, upon a Bill of Exchange, which escaped the Turks Hands, which he presently showed, to the Admiration, and Amazement of them all.  
Supper time being not yet come, Philocles told Aurelia, that he had heard a Story, coming home from his Captivity, which made him Weep, and think of his poor Aurelia, calling often to remembrance her languishing at his Father's House in that Deplorable Condition, the Poison had brought her to. Aurelia desired him to relate it; but Philocles being somewhat weary, desired Brisac, his Companion which came with him, to relate the Story of the Platonic Lover, whereupon, the Company being all silent, he began.  
In Florence, there lived a Gentleman more rich in Virtue, Beauty, and in Courtesy, than in the Goods of Fortune, who most entirely loved a Young Gentlewoman, whose Name I will not rehearse, in respect unto her Kindred, who are descended of good, and great Families; but you may assure yourselves, that the Story is most true; and because he was not descended of as great a House as she was, he durst not discover his Affection to her; for the extreme Love he had for her, was so absolute, and perfect, that he chose rather to embrace Death, than the Entertainments of any thing that might prejudice her Honour; and seeing himself in so low a Condition, in comparison of her, he could not entertain the least hopes to espouse her; wherefore his Love was grounded on no other end, but only with all his power, to love her as perfectly as possibly he could, of which at last she received some Intelligence; and seeing the honest Affection, which he had for her, was so full of Virtue, and Civility, she thought herself happy to be esteemed, and beloved by so worthy a Person, and made so much of him, that he who could not have wished for more, was greatly contented at it.  
But Malice, the Enemy to all quiet, could not long suffer the continuance of a Life so happy, for some Informers whispered in the Mother's Ear, that they much wondered, that this Gentleman was of such power in her House, and that they suspected, the Beauty of her Daughter to be the only occasion of it, with whom they oftentimes observed him to be very Conversant. The Mother, who no ways doubted the Honesty of the Gentleman, but assumed to herself as much assurance of him, as she did of any of her own Children, was very sorry that there was spread abroad such an uncharitable Opinion of him; but fearing that some Scandal might arise, by the malice of bad Tongues, she entreated him at last, that for a certain time he would not come so frequently to her House, as he was accustomed to do. This was hard of digestion to him, knowing that the civil Discourse which he had always with her Daughter, did not deserve that restraint. Nevertheless, to stop the Report of all ill Tongues, he retired for a time, until that Report was silenced, and afterwards returned, as he had been accustomed to do.  
His Absence had no ways diminished his Affection; being in the House, he understood the young Lady was to be Married to a Gentleman, who in his Opinion was not of that great Estate, but that his own Service might be as well entertained, and be as acceptable as his: He therefore began to reassume Courage, and employ his Friends to speak on his behalf, supposing that if the Choice were offered to the young Lady, that she would prefer him before the other. Nevertheless, her Mother, and her Kindred, did make choice of the other Person, because he was far more rich; whereat the Gentleman was extremely melancholy, knowing that his Mistress would lose in that Enterprise as much Contentment as himself. Whereupon, by degrees, without any other Sickness, he began to consume away, and in a short time, was so much changed, that it had clouded the Beauty of his Countenance, with the shadow of Death, to which, day succeeding day, and hour following hour, he did joyfully repair.  
In this Extremity he could not forbear, sometimes for speaking to her whom he loved so entirely: But at last his Strength failed him, and he was reduced to keep his Bed, of which he would not advice her whom he loved so entirely, because he was unwilling, that she should partake in his Affliction: And suffering himself to sink into despair, he at last could neither Eat, Drink, Sleep, or take any rest; insomuch, that it was impossible to know him, by reason of his Leanness, and the strange, and sharp Countenance which he had. Some there were who advertised the Mother of his Mistress, of it, who was a Woman full of Pity, and loved the Gentleman so well, that if all her Kindred, and Confidents had been of the same Opinion as herself was, and her Daughter, they had preferred his Virtue, and fair Deportment, above all the others Wealth, and Riches; but the Kindred, who were on the Father's side, would not adhere to it: Nevertheless, she resorted with her Daughter to visit the poor Gentleman, whom they found rather dead, than alive; and perceiving the end of his Life did approach, he endeavoured to put himself in a posture to bid adieu to the World, thinking to have died without seeing any one.  
But being ready to obey Death's Summons, and descend into his last Sleep, unexpectedly beholding her, who was both his Life and Resurrection, he found himself so fortified, that he arise up in his Bed, and directed himself unto the old Lady; Madam (said he) some Occasion I presume hath brought you hither, to give a visit unto him who hath already one Foot in his Grave, and of whose Death you are the Occasion. The Lady made answer, how can that possible be; that he whom we love so well can receive his Death by our neglect? Pray, inform me, Sir, upon what grounds of Reason you pronounce so hard a Sentence? Madam, (said he) although as much as it was possible for me, I have concealed that Love which I most faithfully have born unto Mademoiselle your Daughter, until my Friends (have motioned the Marriage between her and myself) have been more Zealous upon it than I desired, perceiving thereby I have received the Misfortune of having all my hopes frustrated; neither doth it so much afflict me for my own particular, but my prophetic Spirit tells me with an assurance, she can never be so well respected by any other, nor will be so well beloved as by me. The Observation which I make, that she shall lose the best, and most affectionate Friend and Servant that she hath in the World, doth more afflict me than the loss of my own Life, which only for her alone I would preserve; but because I find it cannot be serviceable any ways to her, it is an Advantage to me to lose it.  
The Mother and the Daughter hearing these Words, did do the best they could to comfort him; Sir, said the Mother to him, take Courage I beseech you, and I here solemnly promise to you, that if the Divine Powers restore you to your former Health, my Daughter shall have no other Husband but yourself. She is now here present before you, and I command her upon the Obligation of her Duty to make the same promise to you. Her Daughter melting into Tears, did the best that she could to give him an assurance of that which her Mother had promised; but he apprehending, that if he were recovered he should not enjoy his Mistress, and that the good Words that were given him were only by Degrees to restore him unto his lost Health, did say to them, That if these Words had been spoken to him but three Months ago, he had been the most Healthful, and the most Happy Man in the World, but this relief came so late to him, that it could neither be believed, nor hoped. And when he observed that, they did endeavour to enforce a belief into him of what they promised, he said to them since so faithfully you have promised that great Happiness which can never arrive unto me, (though now you both consent to it) by reason of the great weakness which is upon me, I shall crave a far lesle Favour, which as yet I have not had the boldness to demand. Immediately, they both solemnly made Protestations, that it should be performed, and desired him with Confidence to demand it; whereupon, he said unto the young Lady's Mother, I earnestly beseech you that you would place her in my Arms, whom you promise shall be my Wife, and that you command her to embrace and kiss me.  
The young Lady, who was not accustomed to such familiarities, made some difficulty of it, but her Mother expressly did command her, seeing that he had lost both the understanding and force of a living Man. On that command the Daughter did advance herself upon the Bed of the poor sick Gentleman, and said to him, Sir, pray be Amorous; the poor Gentleman, languishing in his extreme weakness, stretched forth his Arms, which were only Skin and Bones, and withal the force of his Body embraced the Cause of his Death, and kissing her with his pale and cold Lips, held her close to him as long as possible he could, and said to her, the Love which I have ever had for you hath been so great and virtuous, that Marriage excepted. I never desired of you any other Happiness than what I now enjoy, for the event whereof, and in this Possession of it, I with Joy shall entertain Death as the most welco●…est Friend, after receiving so great a Satisfaction of having now my Desires in my Arms.  
And having spoke those Words he took her again into his Arms, and with so much vehemence, that his weak Heart could not endure the strength of his Love, which was immediately abandoned of all the Faculties of Life, for his Joy was so much dilated, that the seat of the Soul failed, and although the poor Body continued a long time without Life, and therefore could no longer possess the rich Prize it so lately gained, yet the Love which the young Lady had till than concealed, did now so violently declare itself, that the Mother of the Living, and the Servants of the Dead had much to do to separate the Union, and were at last enforced, to pull the Living almost Dead, from him who was already Dead, whom they did honourably inter; but the greatest Triumph of his Obsequies, were the Tears, the Sighs, and the Complaints of this poor young Lady, who declared herself as much after his Death, as she concealed herself in his Life, and now as it were satisfied for the Injury she had done him. And since (as I have heard it reported) the Husband she was married to (to take off from himself thoughts of Melancholy) could never be entertained with any true Joy or Comfort of Heart.  
Brisac having ended his Story, Supper came in, and several sorts of Instruments played the while, several Healths went round, especially the Northern Queen's, Philocles and Aurelia's; they earnestly besought the Assistant, that he would honour their Wedding, which some eight Days hence they did purpose to Celebrate. The Assistant was very well pleased with the Motion, and within eight days after, accompanied with all the Highest and Principal Persons of the City, he waited on them to the Church. By these turnings and windings, and by these Circumstances, Aurelia's Parents recovered their Daughter, and were restored to their former Wealth; and she assisted by her many Virtues, in despite of so many Inconveniences lighted on a Husband, of such especial Rank and Quality as Philocles, in whose Company she lived many years in great Amity and Splendour, leaving behind them Heirs to uphold the Names of Philocles and Aurelia.   

THE Perfidious Mistress: A NOVEL.  
VAlentia, one of the most Eminent Cities of Spain, the Nurse of so many Families, the Centre of Ingenious Spirits, and the sacred Receptacle of the Bodies of divers Saints, gave Birth unto Don Principio, a Person of Noble Extraction, Young, and Master of all those Excellent Qualities, for which Men are either loved or admired. Having left his Country about twelve years before in the Company of an Uncle of his, who had the Command of a Troop of Horse in Flanders, he behaved himself with so much Gallantry in those Parts, that he was in a short time advanced to be Cornet, under his Uncle, who dying, he supplied his place, and so continued twelve years in the Service of his Catholic Majesty, Philip the Third, against the revolted Provinces of the Low-countrieses. He was at last in Compensation of his Services, Honoured with the Order of St. james, with the ordinary Allowances belonging thereto.  
During that part of the year, which makes a kind of Cessation of Arms in those colder Countries, his abode was in the City of Antwerp, where, by certain Letters from Valentia, he received the News of his Father's Death, which made him, being the Eldest, Heir of a very considerable Estate. He might indeed now have lived plentifully on his own, and pursued his Pleasures, as many other young Cavaliers did, who place all the Felicity of this Life in the Infamous Enjoyments thereof: But he, a Dutiful Son of Honour, chose rather to continue the Exercises of War, and serve his Country, than by a sudden Exchange of Enjoyments, blast his Reputation, and incur the Reproach of a Person impatient of hardship, and guilty of effeminacy. This Consideration discovers him to be much more stayed than those young Gentlemen, who prefer whole Skins, the shameful Blandishments of ease, and the warmth of their own Fires; before the Honour, which a Person truly deserving that Name should endeavour to purchase in the Service of his Prince.  
But Don Principio considering withal, that he could not, upon this News of his Father's Death avoid taking a Journey to Valentia, to order the Disposal of his Estate, he desired leave to do it, of his most serene Highness the Archduke Albert, who finding the just Occasion he had to go, easily condescended, proffering him, at his return, what Advancement he could reasonably expect; which obliged him to make the more earnest Promises to come back into Flanders, contrary to the Presumptions of many, who imagined that he had made an exit from the Military Stage, thenceforward to follow the more pleasant Divertisements of a Civil Life.  
Being come to Valentia, where his Relations and Friends kindly entertained him, he began to order the Management of his Affairs, not trifling away his time in unprofitable Diversions, whereto young Men, are but too much addicted. For though he were a Soldier, yet was he no Lover of gaming, a Disposition for which he was much to be commended, considering his Age and Quality: inasmuch as gaming Occasions a thousand Misfortunes, and unhappy Accidents, whereof there had happened not a few at Valentia. Nor was Don Principio as yet any way inclined to Love, though he could not want Occasions to express his Courtship, and how far he had studied the Mysteries of Love and Eloquence, since what added much to the Lustre of that City, was the great number of fair Ladies, shining in it like so many Stars; but his most ordinary Employment was the Exercising of his Horses. Of these he had four Excellent ones, extremely well managed which he had bought in Andaluzia, and one which he road a hunting the Bulls, according to the Custom of the Country, showing himself, at that sport, more dextrous than all those, who were accounted the Bravoes of the City.  
'Tis a Custom in Valentia, that in the beginning of the Spring, for the space of about fifteen days together, most of the Families of the City go about the Silk Husbandry, which they have in the adjacent Villages. One day, Don Principio rid abroad into the Country, through that Delightful plain, which is near a Garden not far from Valentia, known by the Name of the Monastery of our Lady of Hope, and having spent the whole Afternoon about those pleasant Gardens, refreshing himself with the sweet scent of the Flowers of the Orange-Trees, whereof there is good store there abouts, (the Sun being so far declined, that it seemed to be equally divided between us and our Antipodes) he passed by a Country House, not far from the pleasant River of Turia, where he heard, at a small distance, one playing on a Lute, so well, that he thought he had not heard any Music comparable to it before. He stopped his Horse, imagining the Person playing on that Instrument so excellently, might also sing to it. He expected awhile with much Impatience; but the Musicianess putting the Instrument into several different Tunes, did not what he so much desired, which was, to hear her Voice. In the mean time Night came on, and Don Principio extremely delighted with the place he was in, gave his Horse to his Lackey, and commanding him a little distance off, he stayed alone, under the green Balcony, whence the Music came, to find out who made it. But he had not waited long, ere he could perceive, by the light of the Moon, that it was a Lady, who being got into that Balcony to take the Advantage of a gentle Wind then blowing, began afresh her delightful Music on the Lute, whereto she joined that of an admirable Voice, singing an Air, which made an absolute Conquest of that Heart, wherein all the hardships of War had not made the least breach. Whence we may deduce this Remark, that Cupid can do more in a Minute, than Mars in a Troy-Siege.  
To say the same thing again in other Words, the Excellency of the Voice, and the transcendent Nimbleness of the Hand, the Compliance and Competition between them, so ravished our young Gallant, that he wished she might never give over, at least not till he were satiated with that Pleasure. But the Lady laid by her Instrument, and leaning her Breast on the Balcony, though 'twere Night, made a shift to see the young Gallant, whom her Music had charmed so long his Ears; who also perceiving her, would needs make his Advantage of so blest an opportunity. So that getting as near as he could, he broke forth into this Compliment.  
How infinitely happy must that absent Gentleman be, Madam, (for in the Verses she had sung, she bemoaned the absence of a certain Person) who deserves so Excellent a Voice to bemoan his Absence. I should be extremely glad of his Acquaintance, that I might give him that Accounted of this good News, that he is so obligingly bemoaned by so deserving a Lady as you seem to be. The Lady wondered to find herself surprised, but recovering out of her Astonishment, though she knew not the Person who had spoken to her, yet she gave him this answer. As to the Song you heard, Sir, you are not to imagine it Sung out of any Tenderness I have for some Person now far from me, and therefore you may spare yourself that trouble of making any enquiry who it is, and consequently of informing him how highly he is in my Favour, as you imagine. What Assurance can I have of that, (says Principio) knowing, by what I have heard from your own Mouth, the predominant Passion of your Soul? How, I pray Sir, may you be concerned in that, (said she to him?) Very much, (replied he) for the Enchantment of your Voice hath been so powerful over him who hath heard it, that it is not without Reason he requires Assurances of what he asks you, to prevent the disquiet, which he must otherwise expect.  
She could not forbear laughing at this Discourse of Don Principio's, and telling him withal, that Women do prudently, when they are flattered, not to believe any thing that Men say to them, in regard they never speak truth, representing things, not as they really are, but as they appear to their beguiled Imaginations. Wherein, I beseech you, (says Principio) do you think, Madam, that I have told you any thing short of truth? Mistake me not, (replied she,) I don't charge you with a coming short, but going much beyond it, for you are so Prodigal of your Commendations of a Person you are very little acquainted with, nay, have not so much as well viewed, that you must either laugh at my simplicity, or think me a great admirer of myself, if I should credit what you say. To convince you of either your Error or palpable Flattery, of many, I need only give you this one Instance, that, when I myself, and others whose Judgements I dare trust, think I do not sing tolerably well, you would make me believe, that my Voice hath raised you into Ecstasies, when another would not have a Minute's Patience to hear me. Nay, Madam, (replies Principio) take heed your Reproaches rebound not upon yourself, disparage not yourself so far, and slight not truth so much as to call her by any other Name than her own; you have an admirable Voice, and the Subject of the Words you sung must needs be such, since it is not to be imagined you sung them in vain; to make them perfect, there needs only the mixture of a little Jealousy, were it not that the happy Man, upon whose account those Words were made, knowing your Worth, cannot give you any.  
Upon this, the Lady removed from the place where she was, that she might more commodiously proceed in her Discourse with Don Principio, (though she knew him not) for she imagined he could not talk at that rate without some ground; which made her say to him, If you make any comparison between that Enchantment you speak of, and the suspicion you seem to have, I can assure you, that you are very well read in the Art of Flattery; and therefore, I beseech you, attribute not a Melancholy Humour, I am subject to, to any Regret occasioned by the absence of any Person, for I was never yet troubled with any such thing, and I think, shall not as long as I live. I would give all I am worth in the World, (says he) conditionally, what you say were true. Would your hazard be very great in that, (replied she)? Very little, (said he) considering the account upon which I proffer it; but I should say no lesle, were I possessed of all the World, and think it well bestowed. I am extremely happy, (answers the Lady) to hear things so highly spoken to my advantage; but I should be transcendently vain, to imagine I should raise Love in any Person, before I am seen by him: Nay, I dare promise you, that if you had seen my Face, you would not, perhaps, be so resolute. My hearing cannot deceive me; (replies he) and I presume, that the Person, who is so excellent to satisfy that auricular part, may be the like in other Curiosities, which the envious Night permits me not a view of at present. And when you consider, that in the Discourse I have had with you, I have not talked of Beams, nor Splendour, nor used those Expressions, which they seem to have studied, who with affected Hyperboles, make it their business to flatter, and abuse Ladies, you should in some measure assure yourself, that I begin to conceive an unfeigned Passion for you.  
Well, to humour you a little, (says she) I have some Inclination to believe you, which will be much confirmed, if you tell me who you are. I have a desire, (said he to her) first to deserve it by my Services, that in case there may be any thing wanting in me, as to quality, those I hope to render you, may supply the Defect. Nay, than I am satisfied, (said she) that you are a Person of Quality, when you have such a distrust of yourself. Pardon me, that I am forced to leave you, for I hear myself called to receive some Company newly come into the House, and if I should not immediately be gone, some would come and find me here: Do me the favour then (says Principio) to give me leave to wait on you here to Morrow at this time. I know not whether it may be in my power, (said she to him) however, do you not fail to come hither; and though something may prevent my giving you the Meeting, yet shall I think myself very much obliged to you. I shall infallibly expect you, (replies the Enamoured Gallant) more fixed in my Resolution, than the Stars, you see, are in the Firmament. Your last Words, (replied she) if I cannot sleep to Night, will find my Thoughts a Diversion to deceive the dull Season; but when you come next, I beseech you, be not so liberal of your Hyperboles, methinks they grate the Ear, and I think all that use them great Flatterers, and consequently, no great Honourers of truth; especially considering, how meanly I deserve.  
Having said thus, and given him a very obliging Salute, she got out of the Balcony, leaving Principio in a little disturbance, to see that she left him so soon, for he was extremely taken, as well with the Excellency of her Voice, as that of her Discourse: He had a great desire to know who she was, and she had the same Curiosity concerning him, for she immediately commanded a Servant to follow him, and not to return till he had discovered who he was; which he did, without much trouble; inasmuch, as not far from thence, he saw him get up on Horseback, and knew him, and presently returned with News to his Mistress, who was overjoyed to hear it was Don Principio; of whom she had heard such noble things, and seen behave himself so gallantly, at the Hunting of the Bulls.  
Don Principio being come home, enquired of a Neighbour of his, who that Lady might be, to whom he had spoken and describing to him the place where she lived, he understood, her Name was Donna julietta, (the Surname for some reason I shall omit) a Lady of great repute in the City, and of extraordinary Endowments, whose Understanding was equal to her Beauty, Daughter to one Don Speranza Lopez, a Person of great Fame, for his long Services in the Wars; who having quitted the Military Life, and Married, well advanced in Years, had left that Fair Daughter, who was then Fatherless, and Motherless, with a very inconsiderable Fortune; in regard her Father's Estate consisted most in Pensions bestowed on him by King Philip the Second, in requital of his Services. This Lady lived with an Aunt of hers, an Ancient Gentlewoman, who for the most part kept her Bed, and was then retired to that Country House, to look after her Silk Husbandry.  
Thus was Principio fully informed of all he desired to know; though he had a particular account of the Perfections, which made the City of Valentia full of Discourses of her Beauty, and Wit, which was such, that she had the reputation of Writing good Verses, a Property very recommendable in a Person of her Sex, and Quality. Principio had never seen her, and understanding she lived at that Countryhouse, his desire was the more inflamed; which made him ride abroad the oftener, hoping to be favoured with such another Opportunity, as he had met with before; but he had not that Happiness a good while, her Aunt being so sick, that she could not stir out of the Room where she lay. About fifteen days afterwards, the Old Gentlewoman being a little recovered, she had the liberty to go and see the Processio●… of a Nun, at the Royal Monastery of Zaida, which was not far from the Country House; at which Ceremony all the Gallantry of Valentia, of both Sexes, was present. Donna julietta came thither also, but having her Face covered with her Mantle, and attended only by one of her Women, she got into a little obscure Chapel.  
Principio on the other side, who failed not to be there, hoping to meet her, on whom he had fastened his Affections, wondered very much that he found her not among the other Ladies; and suspecting she might be one of those who were retired into the Chapel, and had their Faces covered with their Mantles, he went in to them, with two other Friends, to whom he said, (presuming it was she as soon as he saw her) the new-made Nun is not much obliged to these Ladies, who retire to a place, where they cannot see those Ceremonies which all the rest are so desirous to behold: But I attribute this indifference to the little inclination they have to become Nuns. Iuli●… was not a little pleased to see 〈◊〉, whom she had before observed in the Church, and wished not so well attended as he then was. However, changing her Voice, she returned him this Answer.  
Being not invited to this Festival, we cannot expect the same welcome as those that are; and for the little Curiosity we discover to see the Ceremonies used, at the reception of a Nun, having seen the like several times before, we do not much mind this in regard the seeing of it but once▪ is enough to satisfy a person inclinable to be a Nun. Nay, than I see, (says one of Principio's Friends) you are not one of their number, who have a desire to enter into that Profession. I have no answer to make to you as to that, (replied she) only to give you my Sentiments; that a Person cannot enter into this State of Life, unless they are qualified for it; a Favour I do not yet find in myself to be worthy of. We may then (replies Principio) infer from this Discourse of yours, that you are not Married, but desirous to be so: What my Inclinations are, as to Marriage, (said she) I am not obliged to give you an account, who are very far from being related to me so nearly, as that I should acquaint you with my Resolution in a business of that Concernment: However, you may satisfy us so far, Madam, (says Principio) as to let us know, which condition of Life you would rather choose. Which, I pray, Sir, would you advice me to, (said she to him?) That of Matrimony, (says Principio.) What, Whether I have the Accommodations requisite to enter into that State, or not, (replied s●…e)? If all be wanting, (says he to her) you must endeavour to forget yourself, for she who is not born to be a Nun, and cannot be Married, must remain Neuter, as being uncapable of both. I could very well follow that advice, (said she.) But if you please, Madam, (says Principio) to discover what your Mantle permits us not to see, I will give you better Advice.  
Coming up nearer to her, as if he were confident of that favour, she met his desires, and purposely gave him a full view of one of her fair Eyes, which Principio's two Friends also took notice of; if the advice you intent to give me, (said she) should prove to my disadvantage, 'twere better, I should still continue undiscovered, though to hear your advice, I should not think it much to answer your Expectation. That can do you no prejudice, (says Principio to her) in regard we have observed some things which assure us, that you ought to choose the State of Matrimony, in which you would make the Person you should think worthy your Enjoyments, the happiest man in the World: Nay, ere I know any more of you than I do already, I wish myself the Person, for whom that Felicity is reserved. His two Friends affirmed the same thing on their own behalf, being extremely satisfied with her Wit, and the little they had seen of her Face. Can there be any happiness comparable to mine, (said she) who have three such handsome Persons at my Devotion, of whom it is in my power to make one the happiest Man in the World? Well, Gentlemen, since you cannot expect I should make a sudden choice in a business of this concern, you will give me leave to examine your several Perfections, that I may pitch upon him, who, in my Judgement, may pretend to most.  
Upon that every one began to celebrate his own worth, and undervalue his Competitors: They passed away some time in that pleasant Discourse, without any offence taken, though the place they were in should have minded them, that some other Conversation would have been more suitable: But the Lady having had the Patience to hear what every one had to say on his own behalf; she answered them all together, thus: I am fully informed of the Qualities, and Deserts of Persons every way so excellent: I am now to advice with my Pillow, which of the three I should prefer; though, to tell you the truth, I have, in a manner resolved upon my choice already, finding in myself a stronger inclination for one of the three, than for either of the other two. The Person I mean, hath many excellent Qualities, but the particular inducement I have to think him worthy my Approbation, is, that I know him to be a very great Wit; all I have to object against him, is, that he fears I am already engaged to some other, whence I infer he is Jealous, and consequently of an ill Nature,  
Principio immediately apprehended she spoke of him, reflecting on what had passed in their Discourse the first time he had seen her. The time being come for people to go out of the Church, the three Lovers out-vy'd one the other, to find out passionate Compliments to take leave of the Lady: Principio purposely staying to be the last, only to whisper these Words to her. 'Tis too great a Tyranny, Madam, towards a Servant so passionately yours, in so long a time, not to vouchsafe him a full sight of you. I beseech you, be more kind to him hereafter, lest your further disdain may have some fatal effects on him; the indisposition of an Aunt, (replied she) whom I must constantly attend, I hope, you will think an allowable excuse; and what I tell you is much more true, than the Expressions you make to me of your Love; but I will endeavour your satisfaction, and put a Period to your complaints, when, possibly, y●…u least expect it; Principio had not the time to return her any answer, and so he parted from her, leaving her deeply in Love, and extremely desirous to discourse with him more at Leisure.  
Some few days after Fortune favoured her with an opportunity to her own wishes, at the same Balcony where he had spoken to her the first time; as soon as she perceived Principio, she came down, and they discoursed a long time together, without any Interruption. The Effect of this interview and long Conference, upon Principio, was, that his Love, which before was little better than kindled, now broke forth into a Flame. julietta came not much behind him, yet had that command of her Passion, as not to grant him the greatest kindness that can happen between persons of different Sexes, though it were out of this only reflection, that to have done it, at the first interview, would have argued such a Compliance and easiness of Nature as no violence of affection should ever be able to excuse.  
Principio, being now fully satisfied that julietta was both a great Wit and a great Beauty, writ several Love Letters to her, and the better to Express his Passion, he also sent her some Verses of his own Composure. julietta knew, that Principio among so many other qualities he had acquired, was also skilful in Poetry, and consequently was the more surprised and satisfied therewith: Some of his missives she very modestly answered in these terms.  
The Letter.  
THose Commendations which transcend the Merit of the person on whom they are bestowed, do rather injure than oblige, and disparage the judgement of the giver, inasmuch as the receiver, thinking herself unworthy the Honour, justly takes the Elegy for a satire. I am not so much a stranger to myself but that I can distinguish between flattery and truth; nor am I so poorly conceited of myself, but that I think I deserve somewhat of the Praises you give me. I shall think it an Obligation, if you abate some part of what you tell me, and find out a mean between excessive Praise and Contempt, for the former my own imperfections advice me to look on as an abuse: I have no great Experience of your disposition, and therefore think it not strange, if I give not the Credit you expect to your Poetry, because it is the Language of fiction; nor yet to your prose, because it proceeds from the same Author, who, 'tis very likely hath read Romances. Whether they were the Dictates of a sincere Affection, or an Obliging Compliment, it is only in the power of time to discover, and withal to assure me, whether I am to acknowledge your Civilities, or resent the injuries you have done me.  
The Fair julietta found out an expedient to convey this Letter into the Hands of Don Principio, her newly caught Gallant, who, desirous to set himself right in the opinion of his Mistress, and assure her of the Fluency of his Style in things of this kind, caused the Messenger to stay, and take along with him this Answer.  
The Answer.  
I See then, Madam, so that you procure your own satisfaction, you care not what inconveniences I may run into; since that to be more moderate in your praises (as you seem to desire) cannot be without so much the greater prejudice to my reputation, in that I think myself far short of transcendency, in that particular, and I am forced to bring in the excess of my Love, to supply the defects of my Poetry; that I may therefore be no more guilty of such a Crime, I will henceforth express myself in Prose, and in some measure do what you Command me in your Letter; you will find it no great difficulty to believe me, if you were sensible what I feel; nay though out of modestly you pretend to be Ignorant of it, I de●…ie you to do it; unless withal you resolve never to Consult your Glass any more. Well, Madam, it may be the time of your Conversion is not yet come; when it shall, your Eyes will be opened, and you shall find, that of all the Hearts, subdued by the Charms of your Beauty, mine perhaps may be the least, but withal the most passionate Captive. Time, which gives all things their Birth, Perfection, and Period, shall be the Touchstone to try whether this be truth or a fiction; nay I leave it to the same old Gentleman to assure you of a thing, you yet pretend to be ignorant of, which is, That, while I live, you shall be sole Sovereign Mistress and Directress of my Inclinations; and then perhaps good Nature, Gratitude, and Generosity will rather advice you to acknowledgements of the Love I bear you, than a resentment of the injuries you charge me withal.  
This Letter gave julietta that satisfaction concerning her new Gallant, which she expected; the frequent Visits where continued on Principio's side, and the Epistolary Correspondence on both sides: so that the inclinations they had one to another were, by these degrees heightened into a noble Flame of Mutual Love; his Mistress commanded him above all things to keep his pretensions to her, very Secret, which he inviolably promised to do; nay she was so scrupulous, as to that particular, that if in the Church, or some other public place, her Gallant did so much as cast his Eye on her, in the Company of some Friend, she immediately imagined, that he acquainted him with his Passion; and as if she had heard all their discourse, she failed not to send him a Letter concerning it, if she could not see him time enough, that he might receive her reproaches himself. Principio cleared himself the best he could, still assuring her of the contrary; and inflamed with Love and Indignation, all he could do was to dispel that diffidence, which troubled him extremely; but the sameLove, which is wont to reconcile the lesser differences and dissatisfactions, that hap between Lovers, helps them also out of the greatest and most difficult; 'twas Principio's design to marry this Lady, though her Fortunes were very low: but he delayed the doing of it, till he had affected a business he was then engaged to prosecute. His Uncle and himself had done the King very considerable Services in Flanders, for many years together, and he was then making his applications to his Majesty for some Command in Compensation thereof; and the obstructions and delays he met with in that affair contributed more to his after-happiness, than the Expedition could have done, as will appear anon.  
julietta had taken order that he should not be seen in the Street where she lived, much lesle look up to her Window to be seen by her, and it was puctually observed by Principio, who was not known to have given her a meeting any where; but she herself was the first that forgot what she had enjoined; it happened thus: During the time of the Carnival, which in Valentia, is Celebrated with Masquerades, Balls, Tilt and Disguises, Principio had in some of these met with his Mistress, yet without discovery of more than ordinary kindness between them, though they had talked, and danced together; one Evening after the Ball, there was to be a meeting of certain Ladies, at the House of a Friend of Iulietta's, to which she with some others had been invited: Principio and some other Friends of his were to be there, not in order to any Ball, but only to discourse; julietta came there betimes before any of the rest, and soon after her a Woman, very sumptuously attired, attended by two Gentlemen Ushers of her own retinue, whom her Mother had ordered to wait on her to that Neighbour's House, who was very much her Friend. Principio coming into the Room, was very kindly received by the Ladies then present, whom he endeavoured to entertain the most lovingly he could, till the rest of the Company were come in.  
The Lady who came in last rose from her Seat to go and look upon a piece of Tapstery, that was in the Room, wherein there were represented lighted Torches; the Admiration she expressed at the Excellency of the Work-man-ship, obliged Principio to come also to see it; there was Pen, Ink, and Paper upon the Table; Lucretia (so was the Lady called) took the Pen in her Hand, and drew several strokes upon the Paper; Principio took occasion to commend all she did with such high Compliments, that his Mistress, who was already possessed with a Jealousy, to see him so near her, was almost ready to burst with indignation to hear them; he minding only his own diversion in all he did, took no notice of it; nay on the contrary, being acquainted with Lucretia, through her Brother's means, whom he often visited, and a person of much Freedom in his Behaviour, he continued his Gamesome Humour, and snatched out of her Hand a Pen she was making to Write withal; after which having dashed a little Ink upon her Hand, he jestingly told her, that the blackness of the Ink never appeared lesle than it did then; she pretending to be displeased at that Freedom gave him a clap upon his Shoulder with he●… Hand, to get off the Ink; but perceiving h●… laughed at the revenge she had taken, sh●… gave him another harder than the former. julietta who minded their Jesting mor●… than what was said to her by the Mistress o●… the House, (with whom she was then discoursing) starts like a Fury from her seat, and not considering what she was doing▪ gave Principio such a blow over the Face▪ that his Nose bled; the poor Gentleman wa●… extremely startled at it, and all he could do was to take a Handkerchief out of his Pocket, to receive the Blood; telling his Mistress, very Coldly, Well, Madam you see 〈◊〉 have kept the Secret Committed to my trust▪ you have first revealed it and transgressed th●… Law you have made yourself; concluding this reproach with a low Congee, he quitted the Room, and went home.  
julietta had no sooner given the blow, but she was infinitely troubled at it, not so much out of the respect she bore to the Mistress of the House, who was her intimate Friend, as for her, who had occasioned her Jealousy; in this interval, her Sisters, upon whose account this meeting had been appointed, coming into the House, julietta had the opportunity to retire with her Friends into another Room.  
Being got together, only they two, my dearest julietta, (says her Friend to her) What do you think of? How are you grown another Person than what I have ever known you? I have hitherto admired your Modesty and Reservedness; how you should now be Guilty of such a miscarriage in Behaviour, is the Matter of my Astonishment; the Action you have done, assures me, without your speaking, what, in many Words, you should hardly have persuaded me to. I was ignorant of this Affection of yours, because you ever kept it secret; and since I know it by this discovery, I am more obliged to your Jealousy, than your Friendship. Principio is a person of Worth and Quality; I am very glad he is your Servant, you may henceforward publicly own him, for it is to no purpose to dissemble.  
julietta was at such a loss, that she knew not what to answer; but having a little recovered herself, I must acknowledge, dear Madam, (replied she) since this Eruption of my Jealousy and Indignation hath betrayed me, that Principio is my humble Servant; my inconsiderate Passion, hath, to my Shame, discovered what I kept not only from your knowledge, but that of all others. I must acknowledge, I say, that Principio serves me with a violent Passion, which yet exceeds not the Affection I have for him. I never saw him so indifferent, as he discovered himself in this last Action; his familiarity with Lucretia touched me to the quick. That short fury, which we commonly call Jealousy, forced me to that extravagant discovery of my Love. Since what is passed cannot be recalled, (said her Friend to her) let us find out some Remedy, to alleviate the Inconvenience, for it is not fit we should be deprived of Principio's good Company, nor he of the Pleasure of this meeting. Besides, we should not give Lucretia the time to make any Reflection on this Accident, or conceive Apprehensions which would prove Disadvantageous to you. What is to be done in this Conjuncture, (replied the Jealous Lady?) The only way I can think of, (says her Friend) is, immediately to write to him. She followed her Advice, and sent him these Lines.  
The Letter.  
JEalousies, when they are really the Effects of Love, though expressed with some harshness, are rather to be accounted Favours than Afronts, by a Lover, whose Soul exhales a sincere Passion towards his Mistress. The Injury I have done myself in wounding my Reservedness, is greater than the Violence you will do yourself in passing by what is now past. It much concerns my Reputation, that you immediately return to the meeting. But if you persist in your Resentment, you will have farther Occasion, if the loss of my Favour may give you any.  
A Messenger was immediately sent with this Letter to Principio, who expressed much gladness at the Receipt of it; and, without any Recollection, obeyed his Mistress, as being satisfied in Mind, that nothing discovers a real Passion, more than Jealousy. He comes very gaily into the Room where the Ladies were, which ●…cretia perceiving was not a little troubled, for she doubted not of his being in Love with julietta, though she thought so well of him as to wish he had rather ●…ddress'd his Affections to herself.  
Principio finding himself in the presence of julietta, thought it not requisite to speak to any other, ere he had first assured her of his Compliance with her Desires. Approaching her with a Graceful Smile, he made her this Compliment, Madam, I have considered this Room with as much Respect as if it had been a Temple, and your Person no lesle; since it not only kept me from profaning the one, and offering any violence to the other, but also from revenging by that kind of Duel, which the Law permits between Gallants and their Mistresses. (julietta replied) being so much, as I am, a Servant to Madam Lucretia, I have taken upon my Account the Affront you have done her, when she would have shown you a Kindness, never thinking of any Law that permits a Man to revenge himself of a Lady by way of duelling.  
Lucretia knowing that that indiscreet Action of Iulietta's proceeded merely from her Jealousy, would not be engaged in her excuse, so that she very confidently made answer thus. There was never so great a Familiarity between us, Madam, as might oblige you to take my part with so much Passion, in an Occasion wherein I should not have wanted Confidence to revenge myself. But not knowing any thing that sho●… oblige me to Jealousy, and thinking not the affront done to me so great as you would persuade me it were, my Precipitation was not accordingly so great as yours. I am very glad you make me the Riddle of your Interpretations; let them be thought such by whom you please, but for my part, I have already given them an easy Solution, such as none in the Company can be ignorant of. julietta, not a little moved at the freedom of that Discourse, would have replied; but the Gentlewoman of the House unwilling the Difference should go any further, interrupted them, and obliged them to sit down, for several other Ladies were coming into the Room.  
Principio was, that Night, not only very sumptuous in his Apparel, but also full of Excellent Discourses, insomuch that there were few Ladies in the Company, who were not much taken with him, among whom Lucretia was the most concerned of any. Her thoughts were full of what had happened between her and julietta, and she was now resolved to use all the Artifices she could, to get away that Gallant from her; wherein at last she had her Desire, as the Story hereafter mentions.  
All the Favours which Principio received of his Mistress, were paid by her with extraordinary Demonstrations of Affection; for indeed the Lady had a greater Kindness for him than any other, though at that very time she loved another absent Gentleman, whom she had granted more particular Favours than ever she had Principio's. For the Gallant then absent had received of her by way of Kindness, what in Matrimony is called due Benevolence, and consequently had she not been lost to all Modesty, she would have kept the promise she had made him, since the breaking of that and her own Reputation were not distinct Actions.  
This Gallant of hers, whose Name was Don Frederick Dorella, had made a Journey to Madrid, to prosecute a Suit at Law against the Count of Boceyna, his Uncle, for a considerable Estate in Lands, which at last was decided in a Sovereign Council of Arragon. He was returned to Valentia, with a Decree to put him into Possession of the said Estate which amounted to two Thousand Crowns per Annum. julietta was extremely put to her Shifts, not knowing how she should keep in with both these Gallants, and satisfy them at the same time. She considered that her Honour was engaged with Don Frederick, and her Love with Principio: Her Affections being so much the more heightened towards the latter in requital of his assiduou●… Att●…ndances, as it was remitted towards the f●…er, by Reason of his Absence. So that it is as much a Miracle to see some Women forget their Engagements, (when they to whom they are made, are once out of their sight) and mind only the present Enjoyments, as to see Geese go barefoot.  
But as drowning Persons will catch at any thing, and the distressed are commonly glad of any Advice, this Lady whom we represented before, one of the greatest Wits of her Nation, reduced to this extremity, must needs advice with a Maid, whose Fidelity and Secrecy she had great Assurances of, resolving in herself to find out some Expedient, whereby she might make sure of the one and not lose the other. She received Don Frederick into the House, in the Night, thinking she could not civilly deny him the Reiteration of a Kindness she had once granted him: and she kept the other in hand with Love Letters, allowing him not to see her as often as he desired, as well to add fuel to his Love, as that the other, whom she was more obliged to favour, might have the freer Access. Her excuse to Principio was, that she wanted not Overseers, that her Friends were very shy in point of Honour, that one of them watched her Day and Night, and that the greatest Pleasure he could do her, was, to forbear passing through the Street where she lived, till she had assured him that the Coast was clear. Principio who had really loved her, and suspected nothing of the Imposture, easily credited all she said and punctually obeyed her.  
Don Frederick was willing to requite the Kindness he had received from her, by marrying her; but having a Mother alive, who would not have been well pleased with that Marriage, he took Occasion to put it off, hoping it would not be long ere she were removed out of the way, as being very ancient. So that he passed away the time very jocundly with his Mistress, whilst she by her cunning Insinuation and Artifices, endeavoured to bring Principio into a Fool's Paradise, and make him believe all proceeded from Affection.  
There happened about this time a Difference between Principio, and another Gentleman, of the most eminent about the City, whose Name was Don Renatus, as they were playing at Tennis. Some Friends interposed between them, and 'twas conceived they were made Friends; but the Reconciliation proved such as neither was satisfied. Principio was a Person of a Generous open Nature, grounding his Gallantry on the Employments he had in Flanders, and imagining that no Man, having any thing to say to him, would do it otherwise than by the ways of Honour. But his Adversary, conceiving he had more reason to be offended than the other, who had not expressed so much Resentment, smothered his Malice, in hopes of an opportunity, wherein he might revenge himself with Advantage.  
Don Frederick was gone to a certain place in the Country, where he stayed three or four days. julietta who had a great Kindness for Principio, sent him word to come to her House in the Night, but so secretly and with such Caution that none might perceive it, inasmuch as the freedom she gave him, concerned her Reputation in the highest Degree. The Amorous Cavalier obeyed her in this, as he had done in many other things she had commanded him, coming thither at such hours as it was not likely any should see him. Thus by his Credulity he promoted the Designs of this Deceitful Woman, who would craftily make the most of both her Gallants; so that, preventing their being Jealous of one another, nay, knowing that they were Rivals, she gulled them both. Had she been free to make her own choice, no doubt she would have pitched upon Principio for her Husband. But Frederick being aforehand with her, she could do no lesle, though 'twere only out of a fear to lose him, and prevent the Reproaches he might make her, than keep him still in play, and expect the Performance of the Promise he had made to Mary her, as soon as his Mother were marched off. But out of an Apprehension that even than he might possibly break his Word with her, she thought it Prudence to give Principio also a little more Line. Upon these Considerations, she suffered herself to be Courted by both.  
Principio being now more kindly entertained by his Mistress than he had been, began to conceive a hope to obtain of her, within a short time, the Grand Favour can be expected from a Woman. But he reckoned without his Hostess; for it was her fear, that if she obliged him in what he so much desired, he might become absolute Master of those Inclinations, which she had so dexterously divided between them both. However, Principio passed away the time pleasantly enough, during the absence of Frederick; but as soon as he was returned to Valentia, julietta began to put on a greater Reservedness, and would not be so much as seen by Principio. She made him such plausible Excuses for it, that he, loving her as he did, believed all she said, though not without some Suspicion, that there might be something else in the Wind: Upon which account he often disguised himself, that he might, undiscovered, visit the Street where she lived, in the Night. But he never could meet with any Person, of whom, he might conceive any Jealousy; yet that Disguise did him a Courtesy; for by that means he escaped being discovered by the Cavalier who sought to be revenged of him. That he met not with Frederick in that Street, proceeded hence, that julietta, foreseeing all Inconveniences, had ordered, that Frederick should come to her House, through that of a She-Friends of hers, which was another Street, and had a backdoor, leading into a Garden joining unto Iulietta's, in whose Embraces she spent the whole Night.  
It happened, one Night, that Principio being in the Street where his Mistress lived, his Adversary, Don Renatus, attended by two of his Servants, comes into it by another way, being not well assured it was he, they followed him at a Distance, being loath to do another that Mischief which they only intended him. Principio at last observed them, and finding himself unfurnished with Pistols, to deal with Persons who never went without them, as having only his Sword to defend himself, he besought him to make the Signal he was wont at Iulietta's Door, who as good luck would have it, was come down Stairs, after she had put Frederick into Bed. She looks out at the Window, to see what her second Gallant would have, who, as soon as he perceived her, desired her immediately to open the Door, otherwise he was a dead Man, in regard Renatus his Enemy followed him, and he was destitute of Weapons to defend himself. The Lady imagined that Principio would only have put a trick upon her, and only said so, that he might be the sooner admitted in: But Principio, with many Oaths, affirmed he said nothing but the truth, and that Renatus, with two others, were comi●…g upon him.  
julietta was extremely troubled at his Discourse, and for answer, told him, that a certain Gentlewoman of her Acquaintance was come to see her, and to be her Bed-fellow that Night, and that she durst not open the Door, lest she should see him. Principio pressed her the more to do it, aggravating the danger he was in, and charging her that she had little love for him, when she denied him entrance into her House in so great an Extremity, which the greatest Stranger in the World would not have denied him. julietta told him again, that she could not do it without prejudice to her Reputation. That as to the love she bore him, he needed not doubt of it, since it could not be greater than it was, and called Heaven to Witness, that she was extremely perplexed, that she could not satisfy his Desires. Principio told her, that since her Friend was in a Room above-Stairs, she might without any scruple open the Door, and let him stay below, till such time as he might retire with safety.  
julietta seeing him so importunate, imagined it proceeded from some Suspicion he had conceived of her, and that he had seen Frederick coming into the House. To be assured whether it were so or no, she looked into the Street, and saw the three Men who pursued him, and whispering one to another, as being in some uncertainty whether it were the Person they looked for. These Circumstances fully satisfied her, that Principio was in very great danger; and to find some Expedient to give him entrance, she bid him expect a little with Patience, and she would see whether she could open the Door. She went up Stairs to see Frederick, who, wondering at her stay, asked her what occasioned her going down. She told him her Aunt was not fallen a Sleep, and that she could not come to Bed, till she were. Desiring him to have a little Patience.  
Having thus satisfied him, she went into another Room, to consider with herself what might be done in such an Extremity. On the one side she saw Frederick posses●…'d of her Bed, a Person of a Fantastic Humour, yet one whom she was engaged to, and had made Master of the most precious thing she had, and still humoured out of a hope to be one day his Wife; so that her Honour was on his part. On the other, the Love she bore Principio would have prevailed with her, not to suffer him to be assassinated by his Enemies, which he must run the hazard of, if she relieved him not, it being in her power to do it: So that she was strangely distracted, not knowing whether she should follow the Dictates of Honour, or those of Love. At last, after divers Considerations, that of Honour prevailed with her, and obliged her not to receive Principio into the House. For if she did, she reflected that her Reputation would be endangered two ways; one, that it could not be done without Fredericks' hearing of it, who would thence take Occasion to break his Promise; another that if Princi●…io were pursued by his Enemy, and that he should see him come into her House, he would be apt to make an ill Construction of it, and that might come to the Ears of Frederick, even though he saw him not.  
Having thus resolved to stick to the surer ●…ide, she went down stairs, and finding Principio still at the Door, my dearest Love, (said ●…he to him) Heaven's my Witness, how wil●…ing I am to satisfy your Desires, by giving ●…ou Entrance, not only into my House, but even into my Heart, which is absolutely at ●…our Disposal. I see you are pursued, as you ●…old me, but it would be too great an Incon●…enience to me, that you should be seen co●…ing into my House at such an unseasonable ●…our, being a Person yet so unblemished in my ●…eputation as I am. I beseech you consider with yourself what Discourses it might Oc●…asion; besides my Friend, who is my Bed●…ellow this Night, is awake, and, as Women ●…re extremely inquisitive, she will be desirous ●…o know the Occasion of my stay, and who ●…ath kept me so long from her, for there is a ●…ery great familiarity between us. Pardon ●…e therefore, that I cannot grant your de●…ire; it is the greatest Affliction imaginable ●…o me, that I must leave you in such a dan●…er, but reflecting on that of my Reputa●…ion, I know you would not have me to ha●…ard it, since I doubt not but you are so ge●…erous, as to prefer my Honour before your own Life.  
This unworthy Treatment of his Mistress, in so pressing an Extremity, went to the very Heart of Principio; nay he was so startled to find himself thus deceived, that it would not have troubled him much if Renatus had set upon him, that he might be revenged of the affront done him by julietta, by dying before her Eyes. I should never have imagined, (said he parting from her) that you could have been so Barbarous, as to put me off so poorly in so dangerous an Exigency, or so inexorable, upon the entreaties of so faithful a Servant. If you ever had any real Kindness for me, that Reputation you stand so nicely upon, would have run no hazard, either as to your Friend, or my Enemy, by your receiving me as a Husband, upon which account only I made my Addresses to you: upon which if you, ungrateful Woman, had entertained me, and not insisted on frivolous Respect grounded on such Maxims as I cannot like, my Heart had at this time been absolutely at your Disposal. To make it deservedly such, hath been the main end of all my Courtship●… and Services, but Heaven would not permit it; and since I could find no Compassion in your Heart, I will go and try what I may expect from my Enemy, with a Resolution never to forget a procedure I am so much astonished at.  
julietta would have made him some answer, and, extremely moved at his Discourse, was resolved to hazard all, to assure him of her Affection. But when she went to call him, he was got a great way downthe Street, pursued by Renatus, who being assured he was the Person he looked for, was going to set upon him. His Resentment of her Unkindness, considering the Imminency of the danger, seemed just to her, and being extremely troubled thereat, after she had blamed herself, she quarrelled at Heaven, which in the mean time secured her Lover from Danger, and resérved him for happier Adventures. Renatus coming within Pistol-Shot of Principio, perceived that he had met with his Friend Don Alonzo, who with his Servant, was going home to his Lodging, which prevented him from executing his Design. For Renatus being, in appearance, and that before several Persons, reconciled with him, all would have blamed him, had he assaulted him upon the old account, especially at Advantage, and with Fire-arms. So that seeing he had lost such a fair opportunity to revenge himself, he slipped aside, to avoid being known, imagining he had not been discovered. Principio related the whole Story to his Friend, and how he had been pursued thither; which he much wo●…dred at, seeing Renatus so little minded the Engagement he had made before so many Persons of Quality, and that so slight a Business should stick so close to his Heart.  
It was by this time very late, and as well for that Reason, as to be satisfied of what he suspected, Principio being near to Don Alonzo's Lodging, resolved to take part of it that Night, which his Friend was very glad of. They got in, and ere they lay down, they fell into Discourse about what had passed Principio opened himself to Don Alonzo, and acquainted him how Affairs stood between him and julietta. Don Alonzo had heard somewhat of the mutual Love there was between her and Frederick, and was vexed to see his Friend had so far misplaced his Affections, and particularly at the Resolution he had made to marry her: whereupon he could not forbear telling him what he heard of her and Frederick; which Principio understanding, he immediately presumed, that the reason why she opened not the Door, must needs be, that her former Gallant was with her. A thousand Passages came into his Mind, but he particularly reflected on the Prohibition, which the crafty Gentlewoman had made him▪ of speaking to her in the Night, and that it was only since Frederick's return from Madrid: upon which communicating his Thoughts to his Friend, they jointly concluded, that Frederick must needs be in the House with her. To be fully assured of it, they ordered a Servant of Don Alonzo's to examine the Business, and to continue in the Street, till it were day: and for further certainty, another Servant was appointed to stand Sentry in the other Street, by which Frederick was wont to get in at a Back Door. With this Precaution they went to Bed together; but Principio was in such a Disturbance, that he could not sleep a wink. About half an hour before day, one of the Servants brought Intelligence that he had seen Don Frederick going out of the House belonging to Iulietta's Friend, and that about the same time, he had seen julietta in one of the Windows that looked into that Street, looking on him as he went out, and that he was sure it was no other than she herself. This Accounted satisfied Principio so fully, that all the Love he formerly bore that impudent Woman, immediately vanished. 'Twas not imaginable, that Frederick frequented that House upon the account of the Mistress of it, who being turned of fifty, could not be courted by any Gallants. Besides, she had the Reputation of being a very Charitable Person in Love-Affairs, and was wont to promote the Enjoyments of younger People, and to give Excellent Directions how they might most Cautiously accomplish their Desires.  
The Night following, Principio would himself, from the House of a certain Friend of his, see Frederick getting into the Sanctuary of that Charitable Sollicitress; and for his further Assurance, he lay perdue upon the Roof, whence he discovered. That that favoured Gallant continued there, till word was brought him that he might make his Entrance into Iulietta's that very Night. The dissembling Gossip, would needs endeavour to satisfy her Lover, as to the Dissatisfaction he might justly have conceived of her: To leave nothing unattempted, and to keep in as near as might be withal, she sent Principio a Letter by her Servant-Maid in whom she reposed great Trust, and who was not a Stranger to the Loves of both the Gallants, and promoted the Design of her Mistress in abusing them, for the Advantage she reaped thereby. Hearing she stayed to speak with him, he called her up, and received from her a Paper containing these Words.  
julietta to Principio.  
I Should not think the Resentment you justly have against me so great as I do, were I able to express the Trouble I am in to have been the Occasion of it. That I have not been so Compassionate, as the Exigency required, be pleased to attribute to the Tenderness I had for my own Honour, the Consideration whereof made me inexorable. I love you beyond my own Life; but one of my Birth and Sex may be pard●…n'd, if she Sacrifice all things to the security of her Reputation, rather than expose herself to the Censures of ill Tongues. You may well imagine, when I denied you entrance into my House, that my good Name must run a strange hazard with that troublesome Bedfellow, whom, to my unhappiness, I was then forced to entertain. Notwithstanding the Resentment wherewith you left me, you could not but observe the Distraction I was in: whence you may infer, how thankfully I have since acknowledged the Indulgence of those higher Powers, who rescued you out of a Danger, which I thought unavoidable. You could not have lost your Life in that Adventure, but mine must have run the same hazard, and I do not know any thing but Honour which I should prefer before two things I accounted so precious. Let me therefore Conjure you, to smother your Resentment of it, and to appease your Indignation: which if I may obtain of you, I shall think all the Devoirs your Love may require little enough to requite it. Your Compliance with my Desires herein will inform me, what Tenderness you have for her Satisfaction and Life, who prays Heaven to preserve yours, as she wishes it may here's, who loves you with all her Soul.  
JULIETTA.  
Principio was extremely incensed at this Letter, and though he did all he could to dissemble it, yet the Maid looking on him very earnestly during the perusal, sufficiently observed it in his Gestures. He entreated her to walk into the Garden, and stay for an answer; which was this.  
To Julietta.  
YOur Satisfactions, hitherto, have ever heightened my Love, but this last has wrought in me a quite contrary effect, for I know it to be as far from Truth, as I am from Dissimulation, I never thought myself a Person to be entertained only to pass away the tedious Interval of another Man's Absence, nor to act the ridiculous part you have put me upon, only to come upon the Stage, between the several Acts of your Secret Prostitutions. If it be any Satisfaction to you, know, I have disengaged all Resentments of your Hypocrisy, and shall never complain of the frivolous Elusions, wherein y●…u suffered my Love to Languish: No, I am more obliged to your Denials, than ever I should have been to your Caresses. My Life indeed would have been secured, if you had received me into your House; but my Honour would have been irrevocably lost, if, without my Discovery of it, you could have exercised your Charity on two several Persons, the sanie Night. 'Tis very probable you loved me beyond your own Life, when, being so closely engaged to another, you thought me the fittest Person in the World to make your Diversion. I am really obliged to those who intended to be my Murderers, since by their means I came to discover your Imposture: Make sure of that Fortunate Gallant, whom your Charitable Neighbour was ushering to your Bed, while I was knocking at your Door. Make sure of him, perfidious Woman, and henceforth, keep all your Cares, and all your Caresses only for him. Live as happily with him as the Conscience of your inhumanity towards me will permit, and never think more of Principio, who for his part, disclaims all future thoughts of you.  
It was not long ere this Letter came to the hands of julietta, whom the Maid found in that Neighbour's House of hers, through which Frederick had access to her. She received it with some Disturbance; and ask the Maid, what Humour she found him in, she told her, that he had made her a very cold Reception, and that he expressed nothing of the Kindness he was wont to do at other times. julietta a little cast down at that Discourse, it seems then, (said she) I am not to promise myself any great Satisfaction from this Letter. Having opened and read it, she was like one put into a fright, not able to speak. Her Friend asked her what it contained? She thinking it too great a burden, to acquaint her by Word of Mouth, gave her the Letter to peruse. The old Croney no lesle disturbed than the young Mistress, found, that Frederick's Love was discovered, to the great Disadvantage of her Reputation, inasmuch as it clearly expressed, that it was through her House, Frederick made his Approaches to her Friend, whereat she was extremely afflicted. julietta was so troubled at the Contents of that Letter, that she cursed the day and hour she had suffered Principio to Court her; the only Comfort she could raise to herself, was, that she knew him to be of so generous a Disposition, that, though he had a just Occasion to be incensed against her, yet would he conceal her weakness, and not publish the Correspondence there had been between them.  
But Iulietta's Unhappiness was not come to its full height, and the Malice of her ill Fortune thought not this Affliction heavy enough. When the Wheel of that Vagabund-Goddess begins to turn, every Spoke of it brings anew  
Misfortune, one Disgrace coming still on the Neck of another. It happened then, that as the Maid was coming out of Principio's Lodging, to bring the Letter to her Mistress, Frederick saw her with it in her Hand, she having been careless to hide it, because she was dissatisfied with Principio, who had only that time omitted to make her some Present. Frederick immediately began to suspect somewhat, and, undiscovered, followed her to the House where julietta was, and got into one of the upper Rooms, without any one's taking notice of it; the Maid by a second oversight, having left the Door open: He easily saw what passed, he heard the Letter read from one end to the other, and withal, their several Discourses and Comments upon it; the afflicted Lady bursting forth into Indignation at every Word, and not imagining she was overheard, she sufficiently expressed her Resentment of so pressing a Misfortune.  
The Gentleman in the next Room, who would have been glad of any Occasion to break the promise he had made to Mary her, (for a Lover once admitted to Enjoyment hath other-guise thoughts than he who is still kept in hope) hearing all these things, conceived them a very fair pretence to disengage himself. He therefore goes very confidently into the Room where they were, and addressing himself to julietta, who was most startled at his presence; I expected, (said he) considering the mutual Obligations between us, that you would have corresponded thereto, with a sincerity suitable to my Desires, which aimed only at this, to see us one day united by Marriage, and to enjoy those Pleasures lawfully, and without any sting or remorse, which we have, upon hopes of the Accomplishment of that sacred tye, presumed to anticipate. But since, ungrateful Creature, I find you lost to all Modesty, and have entertained new Gallants, I am free, to dispose of myself as I shall think most convenient, since it were neither just, nor rational I should be inseparably bound to a Person, destitute of all Conduct and Honour, and so live the rest of my days in perpetual Jealousies and Distrust. Having so said, he left the Room, a little troubled at the Distraction of the Woman; but well satisfied in his own thoughts, that he had drawn his Neck out of the ●…ollar, that is, shifted himself out of an Affair, which bred him a great deal of Trouble, since his Prosecution of it to that point had been with the dis-Approbation of his Mother.  
'Tis not to be imagined, that the Constancy of any Woman, should be able to endure so great a shock of Misfortune. julietta fell into a Swoon between the Arms of her Friend, and continued in it a long time; but at last being come to herself again, she spoke such things as raised a great Compassion in her who heard them. She sought for Remedies to her Misery, and not finding any strong enough to re-engage Principio, who was acquainted with her former Engagement, nor yet to bring back Frederick, whom she knew she had offended, she was not able to smother the Grief she conceived to find herself so justly slighted by both. She imputed all her Misfortune to her own Misgovernment of herself. Whereupon she fell a tearing of her Hair, and spoke what ever rage could inspire into a Woman exasperated in the highest Degree.  
She passed away the rest of the Afternoon in continual disquiet, not finding any Comfort in either her Friends Discourses, or her own. In the Evening, she went to her own House, but her Distractions went along with her, so that it is not to be imagined but the Night proved as Restless, as the Day had been Unfortunate. Let us a while leave her in her Bed, formerly the Receptacle, but now the secret Remembrancer of her former Miscarriages, in the midst of her Troubles and Transportations, and give an Account what became of Principio.  
As soon as he had dispatched away the Maid with his Letter to julietta, he sat down a while to consider with himself what course he should take, for he saw there was nothing to be expected there, and that it was not for his reputation, to continue his visits any longer; he had always had a great inclination for the Fair Lucretia, ever since she had occasioned julietta to break forth into that extravagant discovery of her Jealousy; he considered she was a Gentlewoman well descended, and of a great Fortune; and thereupon he resolved to make his addresses publicly to her, by demanding her in Marriage of her Father and Brother, which they, upon the first motion, very willingly granted, even with great demonstrations of Gladness, inasmuch as Principio was a person generally beloved in his Country, as being endued with those qualities, which deserved the respects and esteem of all: The Contract of Marriage was soon drawn up, and the business immediately spread over the whole City of Valentia.  
But when this News came to the Ears of julietta, imagine whether she were not extremely troubled thereat; nay so much the more, in that he pitched on the Person, whom of all the World she had most reason to hate, ever since that fatal meeting, wherein she had expressed so much indiscretion. She said a thousand things against her, and made many imprecations against him and herself, charging Heaven with injustice, and sometimes bemoaning herself, and sometimes Cursing her misfortune. But it was not only one she had to Curse; for the very same day it was seconded by another, yet greater, inasmuch as Fredrick having had a plausible occasion to break the promise he had made to her, treated about a Marriage, with another Fair and Rich young Lady, whom his Mother had long before recommended to him; the Contract was in a few days drawn up, and though done as secretly as could be, yet was it soon known all over the City, and it was not long ere the news came to the Ears of julietta. She still retained a slender shadow of confidence in the Love of Fredrick, which made her imagine he would not break the promise he had made to her, conceiving she had sufficiently obliged him thereto by the highest Demonstrations of Love and Tenderness.  
Thus she flattered herself, till the very day that she was clearly convinced of the contrary, by seeing his Marriage concluded, and herself absolutely forsaken; but reflecting on the other side, what an unworthy breach of trust she was Guilty of, towards him, to whom she had devoted her Honour, how could she imagine he should not leave her in the lurch? How could she expect, if they Intermarried, he should be able to live with her in perpetual Disturbances and Alarms? The very day that certain News was brought her of this Gentleman's being Married, she fell into such extravagance, that she would be revenged of her beautiful Face; she gave herself several blows, tore her Hair, and did all the Actions, which could only proceed from Madness and Dispair; her fair Eyes became two Fountains, perpetually running; and when her Sighs and Grief gave her a little freedom of speech, Wretched Woman that I am, (would she say) of whom all good Fortune hath taken its last leave; how deservedly is thy ingratitude required with ingratitude? How justly art thou punished, for having kept thy Faith to a base, treacherous, and perfidious Person, after thou hadst entrusted him with the disposal of the dearest thing thou hadst in the World? Thou seest, he denies the debt; thou see'st, he pays it with inconstancy and oblivion; let all easie-natured, and inconsiderate Women take example by me; let those, who, deluded by Flatteries and fair Caresses, are drawn in to lose what they shall never recover again, cast their eyes on my Misery, and then consider whether there be any other in the World, whose Affliction may be compared to mine. I wish for what all others abhor, Death; but it is deaf and inexorable, nay slights me, and will not come and put a Period to my Trouble.  
Having thus bemoaned herself into some Remission of her Grief, she went to see her Friend, through whose House Frederick came into here's; who though she endeavoured all that lay in her power to comfort her, yet was her trouble so great, the cause of it so pressing, and so little hope of any Remedy, that all her Remonstrances prevailed nothing; the only Expedient that seemed then to offer itself, was, to forbid the Banes, since there was some ground to do it; but what proof could be made of so secret a Love, without any promise of Marriage in Writing, or any Testimony, but that of a Servant-maid, who belonging to her, would not have been so easily credited? The last and surest expedient this unfortunate Woman could pitch upon, was to become a Nun, upon which Account she was received into the Royal Monastery of Z●…ida, three days after the Marriage of Frederick had been fully concluded.  
This sudden change occasioned a great deal of noise and discourse in Valentia; all wondered at it, especially those who knew her to be one of the handsomest, and the most desirous to be Courted of any Lady in Valentia. It was indeed a kind of Miracle, to see a young Lady; who spent her time so passionately at Balls, Plays, and other public Meetings, exchange all those nobler enjoyments of Life, for the imaginary felicity of Mortification and Retir'dness; this sudden resolution was attributed, at first, not to the true cause thereof, for things were carried so closely that very few knew it; but to the secret inspirations of that Wind, which bloweth where it listeth, and is pleased to amuse mankind with the strange ways it takes, to transplant the affections of such as are ordained to Eternal bliss, from the transient Vanities of this World, to the Constant pursuance of the perpetual joys of a better.  
Thus this Lady met with a kinder Spouse than she could have expected elsewhere, and spent the rest of her time with great Content, Blessing her former Afflictions and the crosses of her Love, which had brought her to the tranquillity she now enjoyed; she frequently used this Expression, that in that House wherein there are many mansions, she hoped there was one for such penitent magdalen's a●… she, who by timely Repentance, expiate the follies of their greener years. Nor was this Acknowledgement of hers, unrewarded even in this Life; for she became the Oracle and Spiritual Directress of all those, whose Lovemisfortunes reduced them to any Extremity, especially those of her own Sex, of whom she so effectually convinced many, that, disgusting the World, they embraced a Religious Life. At Valentia, the Sanctity of her Life, and her Charitable Directions to such as had Occasion to Address themselves to her, were the Admiration of all, insomuch that she was reputed a Saint, even while she lived.  
Frederick, had a Wife, but Heaven was pleased to punish his Perfidiousness with her Barrenness, for she bore him no Children; and instead of the great Fortunes he expected with her, he had many Bags, full of Lawsuits, Troubles, and Differences with other People, and not a few Discontents with his Wife. He wished, but too late that he had chose rather to have entered into a Monastery, than into Matrimony, the Inconveniences whereof sufficiently convinced him, that julietta had made the better choice. He visited her often, and was obliged to her for her Prudent and Pious Admonitions.  
On the contrary, Principio was the happiest Man in the World in his disposal of himself; his Lucretia brought him many fine Children, and, by the Death of some Friends, a far greater Fortune than he could have expected. They also visited their old Acquaintance julietta, who received them kindly, and gave them Occasion to admire the strange Attractions of Divine Love in that Person, and the Esteem they had before for the Excellency of her Endowments, was now converted into a Reverence of her Sanctity, and an Admiration of her Conduct.   

THE Metamorphosed Lover: A NOVEL.  
DON Philip, a Gentleman of very high Quality, was Born at Villefranche, an Ancient City upon the Confines of Galicia; he was descended from a very Noble Family, and was brought up in his own Country, with his Elder Brother Don Lodowick, and a Sister called Donna Cornelia: But his Father and Mother leaving this World ere he was full fifteen Years of Age, he was forced into that Course of Life, which is commonly taken by the younger Brothers of Noble Houses, who have not much left them, and with the little Money he could get together, he went to Trail a Pike in Flanders. He behaved himself so gallantly there upon several occasions, that he got the Colours of a Company of Foot, and after other successful Encounters against the Dutch, he was advanced to the Command of the same Company. Having afterwards, in that Charge, made yet greater Demonstrations of his Conduct, and Valour, he Achieved at length, the Order of the Knights of Alcantara, with an assurance of the first Commandry, that should be void, belonging to that Order.  
Having obtained that, he still continued his Military Employments, till such time as there was a Cessation of Arms made between the King and his Enemies of the Low-countrieses, to last a Year and a Day. This Opportunity, together with the News he received out of Spain, of his Elder Brother's Death, obliged him to desire leave to make a Journey into his Country, where two Children his Brother had left, and his own Sister, stood in need of his presence; the former to be protected by him, the latter to be disposed of in Marriage. Don Philip arrived at Villefranche, fifteen days after his Sister's departure to Villadolid, where the Court was then, with an Aunt of his, a Widow, his Father's Sister, who would needs have her along with her; this old Lady, who had a great kindness for her, having resolved to leave her all she had at her Death, in hopes she might, with those Advantages, meet with a better Match.  
As soon as Don Philip was come into his Country, he took order about his Brother's Estate, and the Tuition of his Nephews, whom he left in the Custody of an Ancient Kinsman of his, whom having entrusted with the care of their Education and Maintenance, he resolved to go and Visit his Sister at Villadolid. As he was setting things in order for his Journey, passing through the broad place of Villefranche, he saw abundance of people going towards an Inn, which was at the end of it, accompanying two Litters, in one whereof, there was an Old Gentleman; and in that which followed, a Young Lady, whose Transcendent Beauty, heightened by the sumptuousness of her Attire, ravished the Eyes, and Hearts of all that beheld her, but above all those of Don Philip; he was so inflamed by that Transient Sight of her, that, covering with his Cloak the order he was of, he followed the Litter, so transported out of himself, that he reflected not on what those who observed him might say of his Demeanour. He saw her lighting at the Inn-Gate; and if he was before raised into a kind of Astonishment at the Beauty of her Face, he was now no lesle, at the handsomeness of her Body, the Magnificence of her Apparel, and the Sweetness of her Complexion. In a word, he was reduced to such an Extremity, by the Passion he immediately felt in himself for her, that he made enquiry, and set himself to find out, who that Miracle of Perfections might be, which had so of a sudden surprised his Heart, and attained so absolute a disposal of his Liberty.  
He was soon satisfied, as to that Particular; for, meeting with one of her Servants, going from the Inn towards the Marketplace, he with much Civility asked him, who that Old Gentleman was, and whither he was then going? The other, who understood Civility well enough, returned him this Answer: The Gentleman, whose Name you are so desirous to know, and who is my Master, is called the Marquis Grimani, a Person of the highest Rank next to Sovereign Princes, who comes into Spain, an ordinary Ambassador, from the Emperor of Germany, to his most Catholic Majesty: He brings along with him his Beautiful Daughter, the Lady Eleanora, to be Married to Henricus, his Excellency's Nephew, who is at the present at Villadolid, a Gentleman of extraordinary worth, who in the Flower of his Youth left Germany to go and see Foreign Countries. He has travelled all over Europe, and is now resolved to make his Abode in Spain, having already continued some time at Court, with a very great Train, and is very highly in Favour with his Catholic Majesty, and well respected by all the Nobility about the Court; nay his Generosity and excellent Conversation have acquired him the Esteem of all the greatest Persons in this Country. This Marriage of Signior Henrick had been treated of in Germany with this Lady Eleanora, the only Daughter of my Master, who leaving his Country upon the being Honoured by the Emperor with the present Embassy, hath solicited the Business with greater earnestness; So that his Imperial Majesty seems Desirous that this Match should go forward. We came by Sea, but had such distress of Wether, that we were like to be cast away several times. While we were in that danger, my Master, a Gentleman much inclined to Devotion, made a vow that if he escaped, through the Intercession of the Glorious Patron of Spain, he would visit the place where his sacred Body lies buried, so well known all over the World, for the great Miracles daily done there. Being come to Villadolid, my Master continued there fifteen days, during which time, all things were agreed upon, in order to the Marriage. That great Affair being concluded, he would needs perform his Vow, and go to Saint James'. His Nephew Henrick is not come along with him, but stays at Villadolid, to send to Rome for the Dispensation, for the Lady Eleanora, and Signior Henrick are Cousin- Germans, thus Sir, I think I have satisfied your Desire, as to the Question you put to me.  
Don Philip gave the Servant very great thanks for the account he had given him of his Master, and assured him he would requite his Kindness, if it lay in his Power, and so took leave. This Discourse happened after Night, as they walked over the Marketplace, it being so dark as that the Marquess' Servant could not take any particular notice of Don Philip, who did all he could to avoid being discovered. The account he had received, that the Beauty, which had stolen away his Heart at the first sight, was already engaged, and, within a short time to be Married, caused him to return home a much sadder Man than he had left it. This Affliction, with the Love which he already had for her, bereaved him of all rest. That very Night, he would needs go and see the Marquis and his Daughter at Supper, yet so as he might not be perceived by them. The Master of the House placed him so as that he might see all at his ease, yet not be seen himself; and this was to leap out of the Frying-Pan into the Fire. The next day, the Marquis went thence, so as that Don Philip saw not the Lady Eleanorae any more that time: Nor was he much troubled at it, for having in the Night advised with his Pillow, to find out some Remedy for his disquiet, he found it necessary, that he should not be seen, either by the Marquis, or his Daughter, or any one belonging to them, that he might the better compass a Design which only Love could inspire him withal.  
The Kingdom of Galicia is very full of Mountains, and consequently the way to St. James' must be troublesome to Travel, so that the Marquis could make but short Journeys, whence Don Philip inferred, that he could not be back in lesle than twenty days, presuming he would make some abode at Compostella, to do his Devotions, and refresh himself, ere he set out for his return. Accordingly, he disposed of his Affairs in order to the Design he had bethought himself of, and, taking leave of all his Acquaintance, he went to Pontferrada, a Town which lay four Leagues further from the Court, than Villefranche. He took up his Quarters at an Inn, whence he stirred not in the daytime, but only took the Air a little in the Night, yet with such a Caution not to be known to any, he discovered himself to none of the Inhabitants; but only his Landlord, whom he acquainted with his Quality, and the Design had brought him thither. He was attended only by one Servant, whose Fidelity and Courage he had many years Experienced; for he had served him as a Soldier, and waited on him, from the time of his first departure from Villefranche. Marco (so was this faithful Servant named) perceiving his Master more Melancholy than he had been wont to be, and that somewhat kept him from resting in the Night, for he heard him disquietly turning in his Bed, and sighing ever and anon, he imagined that the Cause of his Disturbance was not at Pontferrada, inasmuch as if it had been, he would not have failed, Night or Day, to discover by his Visits, what could not be known by his Disquiets and Sighs. Thus this discreet Lover not discovering any thing of his secret Passion, Marco, could not guests at the Occasions which bred such a Distraction in his Mind: Nay, though he did all lay in his Power to pry into it, yet could he never meet with any Satisfaction. One day, finding his Master all alone, and not able to endure that Reservedness in him any longer, he thus spoke to him.  
I should never have imagined, Sir, that you could be guilty of so great a closeness towards a Servant, whom you have ever found faithful, and to love you even beyond his own Life. You have heretofore thought me worthy the Knowledge of your most importunate Secrets; Pardon me, if I presume to tell you, that your silence now gives me just cause to conceive, that you have not the same thoughts of me, and that I must be guilty of some Crime, whereof I have not myself the least Apprehension; Wherein, I pray, Sir, have I offended you? You must needs harbour some ill thoughts of me, since you conceal from me the Disquiets which deprive you of all Appetite or Rest. Sure they proceed from Love, or I am mightily mistaken. You close not your Eyes all Night, and spend the day in Retirement, avoiding all Society, and giving yourself up to perpetual Solitude, and Melancholy; which I am extremely troubled to see. You have left your Country, telling your Friends that you were going to Court; whereas you continue in an obscure place, where you are afraid to be known! 'tis impossible for me to forbear grieving at it, as long as I am Ignorant of the Cause: Pardon my Curiosity, Sir, which however impertinent, is an Argument of my Fidelity, and Readiness to serve you. I know it is the Duty of a good and faithful Servant, punctually and implicitly to obey the Commands of his Master, without insinuating himself further into his Secrets, than he is willing he should be acquainted therewith. I have hitherto kept myself within those bounds, and have so lived with you as that I fear not any reproach you can make me. But now at last, my ancient Fidelity gives me the boldness to ask you, what Business may have brought you to this place; what occasions your Disquiet, and what you intent to do in this obscure Inn, where you admit not of any Enjoyments? Have you a greater Confidence of the happy Master of this House, whom you have known but within this four days, than of an old Servant, of whose Zeal and Fidelity you have had so many Experiences? You have hitherto thought my Advice worth the ask, nay have followed it, in things, for aught I know, of as great importance as this.  
Marco having thus ended his Complaint, his Master conceived himself obliged to make him some answer, which was this: Marco, I must confess, I have looked on thee, and that justly as my Friend; a Title I may well allow one who hath shared with me, in War the Dangers, in Peace the Enjoyments I have been engaged in. It is a very hard thing, not to say impossible, that any man should, in the disposal of himself, take a Course contrary to that intended him by Heaven; though it be said, that a Wise Man shall have dominion over the Stars: That is, (as Astrologers expound it) Human Prudence shall elude the Decrees of Fate. I am born to love a Beauty, which surprising my Heart, hath withal possessed itself of all the Faculties of my Soul. I find myself no longer Master of my own Liberty, that I am not able to make the least disposal of my Will, and so it were a madness for me, to oppose the inclination, whereto the Sovereign Powers have made me subject. I suffer myself to be foolishly carried away by my Passion, though I know well enough that I attempt a thing absolutely impossible, and beyond my strength: This is the cause of my disquiet, musing, and melancholy, spending the Nights without rest, and the Day in Solitude, suffering a thousand Afflictions, which I cannot express; and loving where I am not to hope the least return of Love, by reason of an Invincible Obstacle that lies in my way. This is that which destroys my Enjoyments, and poisons all my Joy.  
I have seen that Divine Beauty, that Mortal Angel, that Prodigy of Miracles, who passed through our Town with her Father the Marquis Grimani: The excellent Endowments she is Mistress of, and, which thou may'st have admired as well as myself, are all the Excuses I can allege for the blindness of my Passion; but they feed it not with any hope. There is an Obstacle lies between me, and the possession of her, which I shall find it impossible to remove. This Transcendent Beauty is already made sure to a Gentleman of great Worth, who is her Cousin-German, named Henrick; and methinks, I see her ready to join Hands with him. I hear such high Commendations of his Excellent Parts, that I find the little hope I had, ready to leave me. I Love her, or to say better, I Adore her; and if I may judge by the present Agitations of my Heart, I may say, it will never be disengaged from the Passion I have for her. I know it is madness in me to think of her, and that I cannot without Extravagance, ever hope she may be mine, to the disappointment of a young Lord, who, with the advantages of Blood, hath all those of Nature: Nay, I think it almost impossible, to find out some means to acquaint her with my Love, and to get a Letter conveyed to her. I know that the Houses, whence I derive my Extraction, are not inferior to those of Grimani and Henrick; and consequently, that I am as Nobly descended as she is; that would not be the greatest Obstacle, if I could but make myself known at Court. I hear that she intends thither, when she returns from her Pilgrimage; I have but three Months to carry on this Business, which is the time requisite to get the Dispensation from Rome.  
I have a long time considered with myself of the means, how I might get access to her; and that I conceive the most likely to take, is to sergeant, what indeed is but too real, a certain distraction of Mind: By acting the Mad Man's Part, I might so disguise my Extravagances, as that the Father, pleased with my Humour, may perhaps carry me along with him to the Court. This certainly, is a design Fantastic enough, and not only contrary to my Quality, but absolutely opposite to the Opinion I should endeavour to raise myself in the World. I have a great confidence, that at Court I shall be known to very few, because I have been a long time out of Spain. Besides these Considerations, the Habit I will put on, being altogether extravagant, I shall be so disguised, that my nearest Friends and Relations will hardly know me. If, by this means, I can get into the Marquess' House, I shall hope the Plot will take: For I have heard this Lady is not fully satisfied with the Marriage, having understood that her Cousin is a Person of a Debauched Life, and inclined to Women; and that she admits of his Addresses only out of obedience to her Father. I have communicated my design to the Master of the House, as being a discreet Person, who may serve me, and puts me in hopes to get me into the Marquess' Service, when he comes to give him an account of my pleasant Extravagances, as we have already agreed together. Thus my dear Marco, have I given thee a faithful Character of myself; thou knowst now as much as I do, as well of my Affliction, as my Love; mistrust not the Confidence I have of thee, and assist me with all thy Wit and Industry, or expect ere long to be a Witness of my departure out of this World.  
Marco out of Compliance with his Master, approved of the Project, though he doubted much the success of it. He saw his Master was too far transported to receive any prudent Advice; so that he promised to assist him according to the Design he had laid to get access to his Mistress, and troubled not his thoughts with any thing but how to compass it. It was his Business therefore to get clothes made for Don Philip, suitable to his Extravagance. He put him into a Cassock after the old Fashion, with puffs at the Sleeves of Green Satin, and large Skirts, a Cloak somewhat like a Rocket, very short, and a Milan Cap., of green Plush. Being thus disguised, he changed his Quarters, and went to the Host's Brother's House, who also must of necessity be acquainted with the Secret. All this could not be done without some yellow pieces, whereof he had brought good store out of Flanders, with some Jewels of value he had gotten by gaming, at which he was very fortunate.  
About this time the Marquis, with the Beautiful Lady his Daughter, were upon their return from their Pilgrimage. Before they got to Pontferrada, the Beams of his litter-broke, so that he was forced to come to the Town on Horseback, and to stay there two days, while the Litter was mended. The Marquis took up the same Inn where Don Philip had lodged, as being the best in the Town. The Host being taught what he had to say to the Marquis, for the furtherance of Don Philip's Design, soon met with an opportunity to do it. For, as most Persons of Quality, when they Travel, are very inquisitive to know what is rare or Remark●…ble at the places through which they pass, ●…he Marquis Desirous to hear what there ●…ight be at Pontferrada, called for the Host. Having travelled several times before into Spain, he spoke the Language very well, was a very sociable Person, and glad of Company.  
The Host being come into the Room, he began to ask him concerning the Antiquities of the Town, the Illustrious Families that had lived in it, the Disposition of the Inhabitants, the Beauty of the Ladies, and such Particulars: Wherein the Host satisfied him, giving him a very exact account of all he knew. Among the Antiquities, and remarkable things of the Town, he came to speak of Don Philip, telling such Stories of him as might raise a desire in the Marquis to see him. There is come, (said he to him) within these fifteen days, a very rare Person to this Town, Fantastically clad in green Stuff; but there is a greater Extravagance in his Behaviour than there is in his clothes, and yet in the height of his Distraction, there may be observed certain Shadows of Understanding and Staidness, which renders him excellent good Company. Being asked by some o●… our Inhabitants, who he was, I am (said he) Son to the River Sill, which passes by th●… Walls of this Town, and descended from one of the most Illustrious Families of Gal●…cia. He expects to be Treated with you●… Honour, and your Lordship, in Discourse though he is known by the Title of Knig●… of the Noble Order of Prim roses.  
The Fooleries he tells to make good th●… Title he assumes, are so ridiculous, that the●… force Laughter from the most Melancholy. He seldom comes out of his Lodging, Feeds high, and we cannot imagine whence he should have means to live at that Rate. He hath a Servant to wait on him, who knows the length of his Foot, and complies with him in his Madness, either for his advantage, or else he has a soft place in his Head, as well as his Master; and I think 'em both very well worth your Observation. I wonder the Knight hath not been yet to wait on your Excellency, for he is mighty desirous to Converse with Strangers, and finds them out as soon as he hears of their Arrival.  
The Marquis was much pleased with this Relation of the Host, and desired him to bring him acquainted with that Noble Knight. The Fair Lady Eleanora expressed also a desire to see him, for she had been present at the Host's Discourse. He gladly satisfied them, being overjoyed the Prologue of the Design had taken so well. He went to his Brother's to fetch him, having before told the Ambassador, that he must Treat him Honourably, if he expected to make any Sport with him; inasmuch, as being extremely self-conceited in his Madness, he would be put out of all Humour, if he were entertained with any disrespect, or indifference.  
The Marquis, who was a Person naturally inclined to Mirth and Civility, promised him he would observe his Directions. Whereupon, the Host marches away for Don Philip, who came into the Room very humorously in his Fool's Coat, making wry Mouths, and some Fantastic Gestures, the Introduction to his future Extravagance. The Ambassador, how serious soever he would appear, as being obliged by his Quality to dissemble, could not forbear Laughing, to see him in that Equipage, attended by Marco, who, on the other side, acted very well the Part that had been given him. He went to receive him at the Chamber door, with this Compliment: Welcome to the Noblest piece of Gallantry that ever Spain saw: Welcome the Mirror of all the brave Knights that ever were Celebrated for their Heroic Actions. The News your Excellency tells me, (replies Don Philip) deserv●… not the reward that may be expected for it▪ You are extremely mistaken, if you think yourself the first of those who have admired Nature's Prodigality towards me in Excellent Parts and Endowments. Give me th●… favour at least, (answers the Marquis) to b●… one of the most faithful Witnesses thereof, which no doubt I shall, ●…f you please but to honour me a while with your sweet Company. For, as a rich Diamond pleases all the World, so the Attractions of your Countenance, and the Transcendent Insinuation of your Behaviour forces the Admiration of all that see you.  
Don Philip was by this time got near the fair Lady Eleanora, whereupon looking with a certain Astonishment on her Miraculous Beauty, my Lord Marquis, (said he to him) I beseech you forbear at present the praises you are pleased to give me, for it were to profane those which are due to this Excellent Creature. I pray let me know whether she be your Daughter, for if she be, you will be much concerned in the Eulogies I shall give this— this— this— (well) Miracle. Her coming into the World was to Embellish our Hemisphere, to supply Cupid with fresh Darts, to become the Loadstone of Hearts, the Delight of the Eyes, the Astonishment of the Universe, the Masterpiece of Heaven, and the Miracle of Nature: By the Noble Order of Knighthood I am of, I swear, that the very Minute I first cast my Eye on this Accomplished Beauty, I found my Heart was grown rebellious, and no longer mine; my will bereaved of all freedom; and my Soul become absolutely her Slave. In a Word, Sir, I think myself somewhat different from what I was before, and the more I feel my self, the more I am astonished at the strange Metamorphosis.  
The Commendations you give me renowned Knight, (replies the Lady) smell too much of flattery, I am confident you do not yourself believe one half of what you have said, and therefore it will be hard for you to persuade me to it. You consider not that you act against your own sentiment, when you speak against your Conscience. I should never advice a Gallant, who would raise himself an esteem with the Ladies, to hazard his own disappointment by so ill a Prologue; for to give undeserved praises breeds a suspicion of imperfections; and to be forced to the belief of falsehood brings truth into question. The truth I tell you, (replies the Amorous Extravagant) is such, so pure, so clear, and so far from all suspicion of being otherwise, that you shall ever find it as plainly in my Mouth as in your own Looking-glass; be not so hasty, Honourable Knight, (says the Lady to him) be pleased to take a Chair, for we desire to discourse with you at leisure: were it Heaven's pleasure, Madam, (says Don Philip, as soon as he was sat) that I might ever continue near you! But I see the Honour you are pleased to do me will be but short, and my Joy soon be over, for I understand, that within two days you leave this place, and if you go without me, I shall dye out of pure Grief; in the mean time, give me leave to look on this Mansion as the Imperial Heaven, since so great a Deity hath Honoured it with her presence. We forget all Civility, (says the Marquis) when we fall into other discourse, before you have first entertained us with your own noble adventures, that we may thereby know what respects we ought to pay your worth. There is not any due to me, Sir, (replies the disguised Cavalier) but that the service I have vowed you, may be the better received, I will give you an account of my Extraction, and relate to you the perfect History of my Life hitherto; be pleased to afford your Attention to what I shall say.  
The Kingdom of Galicia was heretofore Governed by Counts, and afterwards by Kings. Gondamor Reigned in that time, and continued a Widower after the Burial of his first Wife, by whom he had no other Children but the Infanta Theodomira, who coming to Reign after him was called the Wenching-Queen; she fell in Love with the Gallant Cialto, one of the richest and properest Persons in the Kingdom; he ever kept about the Court, and was a Kinsman, tho' somewhat a far off to the King, but his principal Favourite, by which means he had access into the Queen's Chamber, and got of her that Favour whereby mankind is propagated. I proved to be the Issue of that Amorous Union; and the good hour of my Birth happened at a time that the King chanced to be at his Daughter's Lodging; the pains of Childbirth surprised her, and being a Novice in such adventures, she could not dissemble her Labour, even in the presence of her Father, who imagined it was some other Accident had happened to her; her Women helped her to Bed, not knowing the Disease that troubled her; but not long after I came into the World, it seems, to run through all the misfortunes that have happened to me since.  
Being received into the World by a faithful Servant, who knew of my Mother's Amours, she took me in her lap, to be delivered to a Brother of hers, who was also acquainted with the business. As she went out of the Infanta's Lodging, she meets with the King, going to visit his Daughter. She was afraid his Curiosity would have prompted him to examine what she had in her Lap; which made her turn back of a sudden, and, by a secret Pair of Stairs, go down into the Garden, where having disposed of me into a little Wicker Basket, she put me into the River Sill, which ran by the Wall thereof, and told the Infanta that she had delivered me to her Brother, as they had resolved. I was carried awhile on the Crystal Waves of that clear River; but at last, the Water growing somewhat rough, I sunk, and was received into the Arms of the God of that River, who encompassed by his Fair Nymphs, conducted me into his own Crystal Palace. You may perhaps imagine this Discourse a feigned Story taken out of the Inventions of the Poets; but give me leave to assure you, that the business happened no otherwise than as I tell you.  
I was brought up by the Nymphs in that secret Mansion, and instructed by the God of the River, who wished I might prove worthy so Noble an Education. He caused me to be instructed in all manner of Sciences, and spared no pains to make me an Accomplished Person. I learned three or four Languages, but particularly the Latin above any of the other. Being arrived to the twentieth Year of my Age, Love, to show his Omnipotency, and that all places are under his Jurisdiction, caused his Flames to fasten on me even through the Water. In that Virginal Company of Nymphs, there was one, for whom the God of that Watery Habitation had a particular Esteem; and she deserved it, for she very much excelled all her Companions; her Name was Anacarsia. Her Endowments were extraordinary, and her Beauty beyond all Comparison. In Complexion and Stature she came somewhat near this fair Lady your Daughter, and had the same Advantage over the rest of the Nymphs, as the Delphick-Torch hath over the other Planets. She played excellently well on all kinds of Instruments; to sum up all in a Word, she was a prodigy of all Perfections. I fell so passionately in Love with this Beauty that I had not a Minute's rest, from the time that little Deity had wounded my Heart, with the Mortal Darts of her sparkling Eyes.  
I found it a hard business to discover my Love to her, in regard I could never meet her alone; she was perpetually haunted by some of those who lived in that Crystal Palace; they followed her every where, and would never be out of her sight. But one Day, when all the other Nymphs were gone to a Musick-meeting, at which were also to be read certain Lectures of Poesy, being the ordinary Divertisements of the God of that River, the Divine Anacarsia purposely pretended some Indisposition, to give me an opportunity to speak with her. She sent me notice of it, by one who came to tell me from her, that she kept her Bed only for my sake, than which I could not have expected a kinder Compliment from one of her Sex. I went to her Chamber, and found her carelessly laid on a Bed of Moss, exceeding in Whiteness the fine Sheets she lay on, and disputing as to Splendour and Light, with the Sun, who then beheld her. I was startled at the sight of so many Charms, and was upon the point of lo●…ing all Sentiments, an Effect Natural enough in those who are truly touched with Love. But recovering myself a while, though still much troubled, and my Tongue but as it were newly loosened, I took the Confidence to make this Discourse to her.  
Adorable Nymph, the glory of these deep Habitations, but the unavoidable rack of those Hearts, which are captivated by your Beauty, my Soul, since the first time I saw you, is absolutely disposed to serve you; I have no power over her, she is wholly yours, and glories in her Slavery. Treat her as a thing belongs to you, and as I have vowed her to you with an inviolable Fidelity. You have done me an extraordinary Favour in allowing me to declare the Amorous Passion I have for you: May I further hope, that you will allay it, and if I should be admitted to that Degree of Felicity, should I not be the Happiest and most Glorious of all Men?  
The fair Anacarsia, infinitely pleased with so obliging a Discourse, and the Worth she observed in me, highly honoured me with her Affection, and complied with my Amorous Desires, in such sweet and melting Expressions, as put me in hopes of the happy Accomplishment of my Love. But it was not long ere our Discourse was interrupted by the God of the River, who finding neither of us at the meeting, came straight to her Chamber, and slunk in so softly, that he overheard some part of our Amorous Conference; which so incensed him against me, that he immediately resolved to give a check to my Presumption. He laid Siege, with his clear Waters, to the Chamber of Anacarsia, and ere he had quite damned up the Door, he cast me out with such violence, that I was got to the Bank of the River. I presently heard a voice saying unto me, Guadomarus, thou art descended from Kings, though it be a long time since they have had Sceptres in their Hands; Princes of another Family have displaced them. Thou art born a Pagan, choose what Law thou thinkest best; if thou wilt follow my Advice, take that which is observed in this Kingdom, under which lived thy Illustrious Ancestors. I have justly banished thee out of my Dominions, because it was not fit I should suffer profane Love to be made to a Nymph who had vowed her Chastity to me as I had mine to her. I have promised her my Protection and Assistance in all things. Keep henceforward within thy Kingdom, and assure thyself I wish thy good and advancement, so far am I from doing thee any prejudice. Whithersoever Fortune shall dispose of thee, be Confident, thou wilt not be out of the reach of my Care.  
With those Words the waters of the River, seemed to stir themselves into a gentle curl, which being presently laid, it became as smooth as it had been before. I immediately found myself (by what Adventure I know not) in a pleasant Garden, in the midst of a Bed of fine Prim-roses, which I looked on as a good Omen, and thought myself obliged to derive my Name thence. Afterwards at my Baptism, I took the Name of Peter Blasco of Galicia, taking the surname from the Kingdom which had been heretofore in the Possession of my Predecessors, who have been dead this four hundred years, as I have found in History. Besides that Name, I have taken an Additional Title, that of Knight of the noble Order of Prim-roses. I have assumed it myself; for an Illustrious Hero, as I am, may be his own Herald, and by what Appellations he pleases raise himself above the sphere of the common sort of People.  
Thus have I given your Excellency an account who I am, and discovered to you my true Original. If the Qualities and Endowments I own, deserve the Honour to be received into your Alliance, Give me leave, O most Illustrious Marquis, to make my Addresses to this Supercoelestial Beauty, this Miracle of our Age, whom Nature was humorously pleased to frame for the delight of the Eyes, and Torment of Hearts. I only expect your good Will, give it me, I beseech you, and thereby satisfy my extraordinary Passion. I think you so generous, that you will not deny it me, if you consider, that granting it not, you bereave me of my Life, which you know is the most Illustrious of any in Europe; and are consequently satisfied, that the World, losing in me, the most Renowned Knight it ever had, must withal lose the worthiest Kinsman of his Catholic Majesty.  
He delivered these last Words with such pleasant Gestures, the better to express the Violence of his Passion, that both the Marquis and his Daughter had much ado to forbear Laughing. Marco was astonished to see the force of that Passion, which, of an Accomplished Gentleman made a Ridiculous Laughingstock; and could turn a Person of Eminent Parts and Judgement, into a Counterfeit Extravagant: For if he had not pretended the loss of his Wits, he had lost all the hopes of his Love; and he could not have gotten near so Fair a Lady, upon any account but that of Madness.  
The Marquis composing his Countenance to more seriousness, returned him this Answer. Signior Don Pedro Blasco, the most Illustrious, and only Knight of the most Noble Order of Prim-roses, I am extremely pleased with the knowledge you have given me of your Person, and the accounted you have entertained me with of your Miraculous Birth, ●…nd Noble Education: Had a Person, lesle Illustrious than yourself, acquainted me therewith, I should have mistrusted his Discourse, and imagined he told me Fables: But 〈◊〉 Person of your Worth and Quality ought to be credited in all things. What further confirms me in the truth thereof, is, that he is no lesle than a Prince who speaks to me. Believe me, I have a great respect for your ●…are Qualities, and such an Honour for your Person, that I would assure you my own is wholly at your Service. I have that esteem ●…or your Friendship, that I shall endeavour the continuance of it while I live. I wish myself a natural Inhabitant of this Kingdom, that I might have the greater Opportunities ●…o further your satisfaction. I shall stay here but till such time as his Imperial Majesty shall send order for my return; but during the abode I shall make here, command me in any thing that lies in my power: As for the permission you desire, to make your Addresses to my Daughter, I from this time give it you, and I allow her to accept of it, and to entertain you kindly; but she is already made sure to a Cousin of hers, and I have sent to Rome for a Dispensation, which once come, the Marriage will be concluded: This Obstacle lies in your way, and you will find it a hard matter to remove it. I am sorry I had not the happiness of your Acquaintance before; for how gladly would I have embraced the honour of having a Son-in-Law of your Worth and Quality, and to see my Family allied to the Blood-royal of Galicia? The end of most Courtships is Marriage; of yours you see it cannot be: To address yourself to my Daughter upon any other account, I know you would not; the Husband she expects is a person of so much Gallantry, as not to receive any such Affront.  
The disguised Extravagant broke forth into great Resentments upon his obliging Discourse, which made excellent sport for all that were present. But having laughed their fill, the Marquis and his Daughter could not forbear making Charitable Reflections on that strange kind of Distraction. It pitied them to see a Gentleman every way so Accomplished, fallen into such unheard of Extravagances, as to allege himself descended from a River, and brought up in it five hundred Years before: While some that were present, purposely to urge him to speak, opposed the Stories he had told them, and he endeavoured to give them satisfaction. The Marquis acquainted his Daughter with a design that came into his mind, which was to carry Don Pedro along with him to the Court, it being likely he would find them excellent sport by the way: They resolved to treat him as a Person of Eminent Quality, having understood by his Servant, that he was really such, and that upon his recovery out of a great sickness, that Madness had seized him. The Lady Eleanora was very well content, leaving it to some other time to acquaint him therewith. Don Pedro Blasco coming to take his leave of the Marquis said to him, that since he was so unhappy as not to deserve his Fair Daughter's Hand, in the Quality of a Husband, he would allow him to Love her with a Virtuous Love, such as even her Husband should not disapprove: The Marquis gave way, desiring him to honour him with his Company at Supper that Night, by reason he had somewhat to Communicate unto him. Don Philip gladly excepted the Proffer, and thereupon they parted.  
The Marquis and his Company talked very much of Don Pedro, wondering at the strange kind of Madness he was fallen into. He acquainted them with the design he had to take him along with him to the Court. The Master of the House where he was Lodged happening to be then present, told him, that he doubted, Don Pedro Blasco would hardly be persuaded thereto, if the Marquis treated him as an Inferior; for he was mighty self-conceited, and stood much upon his Honour; but if he were willing, there would arise another difficulty in the manner of his Travelling: In regard, (said he to him) your Excellency going by Litter, I think he would be loath to go by Horse: We'll find an Expedient for that, (says the Marquis) which is, that my Daughter, as his Mistress, shall command him to entertain her at the side of her Litter; for if his Love continues, he will be glad of the opportunity; and he shall have an excellent Horse, richly Harnessed, which I have led after me, to ride on when I am a weary of the Litter.  
Don Philip, who had been acquainted with all these Discourses, failed not to come to Supper, to which he had been Invited. The Marquis received him very civilly, and caused a Chair to be set for him, near his Daughter, which he thought a very signal Favour. They Talked of divers things, the Marquis finding he had an excellent Wit in his Intervals, which he ever closed with some pleasant Extravagance. They were very Merry at Supper, and were obliged for their Diversion, to the Merry Discourses of Don Philip. At last, the Cloth being taken away, the Marquis broke his Mind to him in these Words.  
'Tis a thousand Pities, most Renowned Knight, that a Person so Accomplished as you are, and one furnished with all the Excellent Endowments that recommend men to the Favour and Esteem of Princes, should as it were defy their Courts, and spend your time and Talents in such an obscure place as this is. I have heard that the reason of this your Retirement is, that you have not means to live suitably to your Condition, and the Rank you should maintain. If it be so, give me leave to propose an Expedient to you, out of the particular Esteem I have for your signory. I shall take it for a very great favour, if you will be pleased to go along with me to Villadolid, where you shall be treated, in my Quarters, with all the Submissions and Respects due to a Person of your Quality, yet so as that it shall not cost you any thing. By this means coming to be known, and your Worth spreading itself, you may meet with a rich Wife, of some Illustrious Family; wherein my Daughter may do you a kindness, in regard she having occasion to see many of them, will advance you into her favour, for whom you have most Inclination: Let me obtain of your Knighthood, the Favour I desire of you: Live freely with us, since you would have me believe, that the Love you bear my Daughter is pure and sincere; I will undertake it shall be kindly taken by the Husband she hopes to have: I expect your Answer to this particular, and I desire it may be Consonant to the Esteem I have for your Worth.  
Don Philip was extremely satisfied, that the Imposture had taken so well, and immediately apprehended, that, living in the House with the Marquis, he should be near her whom he Adored, which was the main end of his Desires; whereupon he returned him this Answer. No Temptation in the World should have forced my Removal from this place, but the extraordinary Civilities I have received from your Excellency. I had resolved to spend the rest of my days in this Retirement, as conceiving it the best course for a Person of my Quality, whose Revenues are much below his Honour, to confine himself to some Place, where he is not much known, and so avoid the charge of Servants and clothes. But the Respects you are pleased to have for me, together with this transcendent Beauty, who by the forcible Attractions of her Divine Countenance, draws Hearts after her, as the Thracian Orpheus did living Creatures, Stones and Plants, by the Harmonious sound of his Harp, have made me wholly at your service. I shall not trouble either you or myself to tell you how Persons of my Quality ought to be treated, as thinking it enough, that I have already acquainted you with my Titles, and particularly that I am of the Blood-Royal. The greatest Favour you can ever do me, is, that you command me to wait on your Daughter, which if you do, I shall the more willingly accept of the proffer you are pleased to make me.  
The Marquis finding him willing to go along with them, all that remained to be done was to persuade him to do it on Horseback, which he was content to do, that he might the better entertain his Mistress at the side of the Litter. Don Philip helped the Lady into her Litter, being proud in his Mind at that Introduction of his Service to her, and that he had the Happiness to take her by the fair hand, continuing his Attendance on her from their departure from Pontferrada, till they came to Villadolid. All the way along, he entertained her with pleasant Discourses, intermixed with Amorous Expressions, and at every Inn they came to, she failed not to give her Father an Account of the divertive Discourses she had with Don Philip.  
The last day of their Journey, Don Philip would needs feel the Pulse of his Mistress as to her intended Marriage, and endeavoured to discover how she was inclined thereto. He brought the Business upon the Stage so dexterously, as that she might not suspect him guilty of any impertinent Curiosity. It is commonly observed that Persons any way afflicted are apt to break their minds to any People, but especially to those with whom they are familiarly acquainted. Accordingly, to ease her own thoughts, and satisfy Don Philip, she made him this answer. Worthy Knight of the most Honourable Order of Prim-roses, I must needs acknowledge, that my Cousin Henrick is a Person endowed with all the Qualities, capable to raise a Woman's Love to the highest pitch, but I have withal discovered him to be so fickle, and one so naturally inclined to address himself to all sorts of Women, not regarding whether they be nobly or meanly descended, that it very much cools my Affection towards him, and makes me fear his Alliance, though I find my self sufficiently inclined thereto, could I perceive any likelihood of his reforming himself of that insufferable humour; but, far from that, since my coming into Spain, when he should have endeavoured to give me greater assurances of his Affection, I find him as indifferent as to my satisfaction as ever; and Heaven knows with what apprehensions I am induced to condescend to this match; for if I am now frighted at the thoughts of his miscarriages, what must I not fear, when he obtains the Superiority? the obedience I owe my Father, and the necessity I find that this Marriage should be concluded, for the Composure of some differences in our Family, make me wholly passive in the business, and so content it should go forward. I admit of his Addresses not without some violence to my own inclination, and all I can do, is to pray Heaven, that it would inspire him with better resolutions.  
Don Philip could have wished that she had not been so resolute, as she seemed to be; he therefore, though then personating a Fool, answered her as a Wise man, and advised her to bear a while with the failings of her Cousin. Despair not, Madam, (said he to her) but Don Henrick may become another Man, and that if he be such as you describe him now, that volatile Humour will be fixed in him, when he comes to be possessed of so fair and accomplished a Lady; but he resolved, upon the first opportunity should present itself, to express his mind to her in other terms; and to make a full discovery of himself to his Mistress.  
They came that day to Villadolid, and Henrick met them half a days Journey short of it; he was very kindly received, both of the Marquis and his Daughter, whereat the disguised Don Philip was not a little troubled; for finding Don Henrick a very graceful Person, he began to entertain some doubts of the success of his enterprise; the Marquis thought to make him acquainted with Don Philip, that, by the Character he gave him, he might accordingly treat him. Nephew, (said he to him) I pray take notice of this Noble Cavalier, who hath Honoured us with his Company from Galicia, for his person, and the rare qualities he is Master of, are such as deserve the highest esteem. I desire you to respect him accordingly, and assure yourself all you do will be below his Merit, not only upon the Account of the Royal-Blood from which he is descended, but also the Romantic Title he assumes to himself, of Knight of the Honourable Order of Primroses: He pretends a Jurisdiction over all those places where ever any of that Flower grows, and never sees it, but he thinks of the Complexion of a Mistress he once had, who spent most of her time in Gardens, in one whereof it was Love's Pleasure to make him a Captive to her Beauty, as she was gathering some Prim-roses.  
This Description made Don Henrick take a particular notice of Don Philip, and he doubted not, as well by his Accoutrements, as by the Fantastic Title he had taken to himself, to conclude him a most transcendent Extravagant, and that, as such, they had entertained him into their Company. Accordingly, to comply with his Uncle, he made this Compliment to Don Philip, Most Honourable Knight of the Order of Prim-roses, I shall receive your Acquaintance with as great Satisfaction as I should do that of the greatest Monarch in the World, and think myself infinitely obliged to you, that, being a Person of such extraordinary Parts, you were pleased to honour the Marquis my Uncle, and my Cousin, with your Company so far out of your own Territories. In Acknowledgement of that Noble Favour, be pleased to accept the proffer I make to you of ever being your most affectionate and most humble Servant, than which I cannot expect a higher Relation to you, when I consider the Character my Uncle hath been pleased to give you.  
Don Philip returned him most humble thanks, and said to him, I have so high an esteem for whatsoever this fair Lady is concerned in, that I shall make it my Business to Sacrifice all you think most Excellent in me to her Satisfaction and yours, as long as it shall please his Excellency to give me leave to be of his retinue. How, (replies Henrick) may we expect that farther Happiness as to enjoy your Company for some time? I see no Reason you have to be so glad of it, (replies the Marquis) for you must know, that Don Peter Blasco is fallen deeply in Love with your Cousin, and that it is his Affection hath occasioned this Acquaintance, though he hath assured me, that, since he understood she was designed for you, that Love is turned into a pure fraternal Friendship, and under that Innocent Passion he endeavours to oblige her what lies in his Power. Be pleased to take my further Assurance of it, says Don Philip, that no thought of that may break your rest; for that Consideration laid aside, I should think myself capable to raise a Jealousy even in Narcissus himself, were he now alive: For I dare, without any vanity, affirm it, that there is not a Person in the World may be compared to me either as to Gracefulness of Body, or Accomplishments of Mind. I am sufficiently convinced of the Truth of what you say, (says Henrick) though I have not known you long: And therefore wholly relying on the promise you make me, I shall fear nothing as to your Pretensions, which were they any other Persons, I should not be guilty of so great an Indifference.  
With these Discourses, they got to the Court, and the Ambassador being alighted at his House, he there found many Ladies, impatiently expecting the Arrival of the fair Lady Eleanora, who was received out of her Litter into the Arms of her designed Husband, whereat Don Philip could do no lesle than conceive a little Jealousy. Henrick, to begin the Demonstrations of his Love, had prepared a magnificent Supper, to which were invited all those, of both Sexes, who were come thither to receive the Ambassador and his Daughter.  
Don Philip went to Bed presently after Supper, extremely troubled in mind, that he had engaged himself in an Enterprise, wherein he found so great difficulties. He could not imagine any means to bring it about, so that as that he might come off with Credit; he met with too many Obstacles, and what afflicted him most of all, was, the Resolution the Lady had taken to satisfy her Father's Desire, who was desirous the Marriage should be concluded with Henrick, though he had been acquainted, as well as she, with his Miscarriages. Marco could not forbear grumbling at the Resolution of his Master, which must have ended amidst those Difficulties. He exposed himself as an Extravagant Person in a Court where he might have raised himself into Esteem, and out of a hope not likely to be brought to any Effect, he ran himself daily into new Inconveniences. The Master and Servant spent some part of the Night in discoursing about the Business, till at last Don Philip fell a sleep, with a Resolution to discover himself to his Mistress, and, if his Addresses were not well entertained by her, to return immediately into Galicia.  
The visits of the Cavaliers and Ladies, continued six days, during which time the Marquis and his Daughter were often seen, both of them taking much Pleasure in the pleasant Demeanour of Don Philip, who acted the part he had undertaken so admirably well, that his Extravagances became the Discourse of the whole Court, all speaking of him as one of the most Humorous Fools that had come upon the Stage of a long time; insomuch that some advised the Ambassador to bring him to the Palace, assuring him the King would be much pleased with his Behaviour. Don Philip coming to hear of it, seemed to be very angry, and excused himself, out of a fear his Majesty might not entertain him, suitably to his Quality and Extraction; that he would not run the hazard of receiving an affront, and that the least disrespect shown him would force him to violent Resentments thereof. The Ambassador pressed him no further, lest he might put him out of Humour, perceiving he liked not the Proposal, and put it off to some other time, when perhaps he might find him more inclined to Compliance.  
Henrick, who was also lodged in the Ambassadour's House, had only two Servants to wait on him, whom he trusted with the Knowledge of all his Love Adventures. It happened that both these fell sick at the same time, a time when he should have shown more Reservedness in his Amours, to raise himself into a better Esteem with his Mistress; but he on the contrary, minded his own Enjoyments above all things, and never considering the present posture of his Affairs, he continued his Night-Visits, as he was wont to do before her Arrival. Being thus disappointed of their Attendance, who were best acquainted with his Humours, he conceived he could not pitch upon a fitter Person to accompany him than Marco, who, with the leave of his Master Don Philip, went along with him, finding him a subtle Fellow, and experienced in such Affairs, he thought him a Person fit for his Purpose, and accordingly that he might trust him with any thing. He took him along with him three or four Nights together to a certain House, out of which he came at a very unseasonable hour. Though Marco went in with him, yet durst he not be so impertinently inquisitive, as to ask who was the Mistress of the House, till the third or fourth Night that he had accompanied him thither; and then being alone with the Servant-Maid (who taking Example by her Mistress began to express some Kindness towards Marco) he asked her whose House that was, and to whom Henrick made his Visits.  
Love and Secrecy are seldom found in the same Lodging. She was a Servant, and in Love with Marco; there needs no more to be said, to make it appear, that she satisfied him in whatever he desired to know. Marco understood from her, that that House belonged to his Master Don Philip's Aunt, and that his own Sister was the Person whom Henrick had at rack and manger, upon a Promise of Marriage, she had gotten from him a little before under his hand, she by reason of her Retiredness, being innocently Ignorant of the Treaty of Marriage between him and his Cousin the Lady Eleanora.  
Marco having pumped out all these particulars, failed not to give his Master an account thereof the next day. Don Philip was extremely surprised thereat; not without Indignation against his Sister, though that procedure of Henrick raised him into some hopes of effecting his Design, presuming the more upon it, in that being equal, as to Birth, to Henrick, he was resolved he should never Mary any other, than her whom he had so highly dishonoured. He thereupon commanded Marco to acquaint the Maid who had made those discoveries to him, that the Marriage of Henrick and his Cousin was agreed upon, and that a Messenger was sent to Rome for the Dispensation, not forgetting the rare accomplishments of the Lady Eleanora; to the end she might acquaint his Sister therewith, to see what Course she would take, and how she would Remedy the affront intended her.  
He punctually executed the Orders he had received from Don Philip, so that the Night following Donna Cornelia (so was Don Philip's Sister called) was acquainted with the whole Business. She thereupon had a great Contestation with Don Henrick, who impudently denied that he had any thing to do, as to Marriage, with his Cousin. In fi●…e, having done all he could to vindicate himself, and appease Donna Cornelia, she pretended to be satisfied with him, provided he more fully justified his Innocence the next Morning. So she dismissed Henrick, who went away well satisfied, imagining her to be so too, but resolving with himself not to give her any Visit awhile, he pretended some Indisposition. Don Philip understood that Night from Marco all that had passed between Don Henrick and his Sister, and was extremely incensed against her, that she had given Credit to the deceitful Words of a Perfidious Man. However, he thought fit to let pass two days, to see what Course his Sister would take in that time, commanding Marco to prosecute his Discoveries.  
The next day, Don Henrick not coming to clear himself, as he had promised, Donna Cornelia was so enraged, that she would stay no longer, but resolved to be satisfied from the Mouth of the Ambassador, of the affront intended to be done her. She took a Coach, and veiling her Face, came to his House, but at such an unfortunate time, that she met Don Henrick at the Door, who, discovering who she was, presently imagined what might Occasion that Visit, and that her coming thither was to acquaint the Ambassador how he was engaged to her, and to show him that promise of Marriage. Don Henrick received her with extraordinary Kindness, which she ●…aking otherwise than he expected, added the more to his Suspicion. He told her, he had something particular to acquaint her with, ●…nd entreated her to go along with him to a Room at some distance from his Uncle's Lodg●…ngs. Donna Cornelia would not be persuaded a good while to give him that Satisfaction, telling him, that she must first speak with the Ambassador, and that afterwards he should talk with her as long as he pleased. That Don Henrick endeavoured to prevent, ●…ssuring her, that he was at that time, very ●…usie, looking over a packet of Letters he had received from the Emperor. He was ●…o importunate with her, that she would hear him before she spoke with the Ambassador, ●…hat at last he prevailed. Whereupon conducting her to Don Philip's Chamber, he en●…reated him to bear her Company, till he came back to speak with her.  
Cornelia having her Face veiled all this time, Don Philip knew her not, but by the discoveries he had received, he suspected her to ●…e his Sister; on the other side, he was so transformed by the Extravagance of his clothes, and, what added much to his disguise, his perpetual wearing of Spectacles, that she could not have the least imagination of his being her Brother. Don Philip kept her Company a while, without enquiring into the occasion of her coming thither, and at last, leaving her locked up in the Room, he went to look for Don Henrick; to know how he would have him dispose of her; he was then busy with his Uncle, but sent one to desire Don Philip, to entertain that Lady a while, with this excuse, that, as soon as he could, he would come and dispatch her, Don Philip returning to his Chamber, immediately locked the door.  
In the mean time the Lady Eleanora had understood, that her Cousin had spoken to a Woman with her Face Veiled, in one of the walks leading to the Ambassadour's house, and desired Don Philip to conduct her to his Chamber; the jealousy she conceived thereat raised in her a desire to know who she might be, which she might easily discover, by reason there was a passage from her lodgings to Don Philip's Chamber, and at the end of it a door, whereof she had the Key, she opened it very softly, lest she might be perceived, and that just as Don Philip, coming into the Room, found his Sister with her Face Unveiled, expecting to be seen only by Don Henrick, whom only she stayed for; as soon as he had taken a slight view of her, he applied this discourse to her.  
Ungracious and unhappy Woman, unworthy of the House out of which thou are descended, and that I should call thee my Sister! is it possible thou shouldst be Guilty of so strange an Oblivion of thyself, as relying on the vain promises of a treacherous Person to come into this House to seek him who hath abused thee, and to whom thou hast impudently prostituted thyself? Comest thou to importune a Man that hath forgotten thee, and to Court him who hath so palpably deceived thee? If, besotted with a fond Love, it be thy design to be Married to him, thou hast Friends to whom thou mightst have Communicated thy desires, rather than have abandoned thyself to a Man who treats thee with so much contempt; and, notwithstanding all his Caresses, laughs at thee in his Sleeve; he is upon the point of Marriage with his Cousin; art thou so simple, as that thou only shouldst be ignorant of what is known all over the Court? Had I not a respect for the place where thou art, this Sword should dispatch thy Criminal Soul into the other World, that thou mightst be an example to all such simple Gull's as thou art; hast thou so far forgotten the respect due to thy Aunt, as to profane her house, by assigning Henrick his Nocturnal meetings in it? Thou shouldst have bethought thyself who thou art, that he is of no better house than thy ●…elf, and that thy quality is as high as his. 'Tis a great happiness to thee, that an humour took me to come into this Court, though thou seest me in this ridiculous Habit, to prevent, what lies in my power, Henrick's further abuse of thee; which I will do with the hazard of my Life; tell me, infamous Woman, what hath passed between you, that I may take some course therein, and dissemble not the truth in any thing, for it concerns thee no lesle than Honour and Life.  
The Disconsolate Donna Cornelia heard this discourse with her Eyes fastened on the Ground and flowing with Tears, without giving him the least interruption; but at last, to obey her Brother, whose indignation she saw justy grounded, she told him in few words, how Henrick had seen her at a certain public Meeting, that he liked her, and, having enquired out her Lodgings, he had sent her several Letters; that having continued his Addresses to her with great demonstrations of affection, she had granted him entrance into the House, and that upon a promise of Marriage under his hand (which she had about her) she had permitted him to dispose of her as he pleased; in fine she gave him a particular account of all that happened between them; whereupon he, to add no more to her affliction, put her in some hope ' that Henrick should be forced to perform the promise he had made to her.  
The fair Lady Eleanora had heard all this discourse at the Door, which was between her Lodgings and Don Philip's Chamber, extremely astonished how a Person of Quality (such as she found Don Philip to be by his discourse) and one of such an excellent Wit, could put on a Fool's Coat, and behave himself as an Extravagant in their House, and all about the Court. She was ignorant of the cause of that strange Metamorphosis, and yet she had a certain suspicion, that it might be upon her account; on the other side, she reflected on the double Treachery of her Cousin Don Henrick, in treating of a Marriage with her, having given a promise of the same thing to another, and to a person so highly qualified as Dona Cornelia seemed to be.  
Being fully satisfied as to those two things, she would not stand to hear them any longer, but rushed into the Room so of a sudden, as that she had not the time to put any thing over her Face, nor he to dissemble his indignation. Seeing her coming towards them, Ah Madam, (said he to her) what mean these Ambushes? What's your Design therein, Sovereign Princess of my Soul, and absolute Directress of my Inclinations? Do you use such a Treachery against those who could not so much as imagine you guilty of any such thing? I wish so great a Beauty would not give me any more such Apprehensions, for another surprise of this Nature would make me die out of pure Joy, as it hath been the Fortunes of others to die out of an excess of Grief. There is no Dissembling any longer, (replies the Lady) for I am fully assured that you are not the Person you seem to us to be, and that the Affliction you are in requires rather secret and real Resentments, than personated Extravagances. My Curiosity heightened by a little Jealousy, procured me the Discovery of more than you imagine, I have found the Perfidiousness of my Cousin Don Henrick; greater towards me than I could have expected, considering his pretended Kindnesses. I would fain be delivered out of the Confusion I am in, and I earnestly entreat you to resolve me this Riddle, for its Obscurity Perplexes me very much: But before you take that Trouble upon you, give me leave to carry this Lady your Sister to my Lodgings, and if my Cousin comes in the mean time to inquire after her, you may tell him, that she went away much displeased at his long stay, and leave the rest to me.  
Having so said, she took Donna Cornelia along with her, assuring her she would do all lay in her Power to serve her, which put her in hope of a better Success in her affairs, than she could have derived from either her Brother's Indignation, or Henrick's Treachery. The Lady Eleanora left Donna Cornelia among her Women, and returns to Don Philip; who though at first surprised at the sight of her, and the thought of her having overheard the Infamy of his Sister; yet was he withal glad of it, since her Jealousy and Curiosity had discovered his Transformation, and the unhandsome Carriage of her Cousin. Don Philip therefore was very glad to see his Mistress returned as might be seen by the Cheerfulness of his Countenance. She desired him to take a Chair, and doing the like herself, she opened her mind to him in these Words.  
I have been in an extraordinary Confusion for some days past, and so incensed against my Cousin Don Henrick, to see the strangeness of his Behaviour towards me, that I come to receive your Advice how far I ought to resent it, and withal to be satisfied in some things, whereof I must yet Acknowledge myself Ignorant. One is, and that much raises my wonder, to see you counterfeiting the Fool and Extravagant, in a Court, where you might rather act the Part of a Person of Honour and Gallantry, as having the advantage of being Brother to so fair a Lady as Donna Cornelia, who, besides the Recommendation of Beauty, seems to be Mistress of many other good Qualities. You may infer from my Discourse, that being of the Quality I suppose you to be, you dishonour yourself in representing the Natural and Ridiculous Person, as well in regard of the Habit you have assumed, as the extravagant Actions wherewith you amuse the World. Which since I cannot imagine you would do but that there must be some Mystery in it, I am the more desirous to know your Motives thereto, in that I conceive it will be a means to clear my mind of certain doubts which now lie somewhat heavy upon it.  
Having delivered this with the best grace in the World, the fair Lady was silent, and left Don Philip the Liberty to make this reply. If you find me at any loss, Madam, in satisfying your Desires as to this particular, I question not but you will have the goodness to attribute it, to that Distraction poor Mortals are Subject to, when they Address themselves to the Objects of their Vows and Adorations. You cannot be Ignorant, (though you knew it not by Experience) that Love is a powerful Divinity, to whom Men Sacrifice all things; no Intriqus but he is Author of; no Difficulties but he overcomes, to compass his Designs. This premised, I am in the next place freely to acknowledge, that the day you passed through Villefranche, which is the place of my Birth, I found myself wounded by the Lightning of your fair Eyes. I did all lay in my Power to oppose that Passion; but it still proved predominant, and the Engagement I knew there was between you and your Cousin Don Henrick could not abate on tittle of it. Nay, though I knew all the particulars of that Engagement, wherein you rather complied with the Commands of a Father than your own Inclinations, inasmuch as you looked on that too happy Kinsman, as a fickle Person, unworthy your Affection, a truth I have since heard confirmed by yourself; nay, though I saw the Marriage in a manner concluded, yet all could not break the Resolution I had taken to disguise myself as you have seen to traverse it, and Fortune now seems to Favour my Design.  
I am not therefore, Madam, to repent me of the slur I may have put upon my Blood, and the Noble House from which I am descended, in acting the Fool's part in yours, into which it was my Business to introduce myself by all means imaginable, since the imposture hath proved so fortunate, and that I begin to conceive some hope of attaining my Desires. You know, Madam, that I durst not have presumed to make you a real Discovery of myself, for besides that I should run the hazard of not finding credit with you, I came in at a time when your Marriage was in too great forwardness to be easily crossed by after Applications. In fine, it was Heaven's Pleasure, that a strange Conjunction of my Sister's Misfortune, and your own just Jealousies, should give you a discovery of what, perhaps, I should yet a while have kept from your Knowledge. My true Name is Don Philip de Gamboa and Toledo, and consequently I may affirm myself to be of the most eminent Families of Spain, since I am descended from the Signors of Villefranche and Astorga. I have the Honour to be Knight of the Order of Alcantara, and I have acquired it by some years' Services done his Majesty in Flanders, with hopes, ere long, to be gratified with an Advantageous Commandry. I have given you an Account of my Quality, and have not concealed from you my Presumption. All I have now to Apologise for, is, my Love; and, I am the more confident of your pardon as to that, if you but ever so little consider the unavoidable Influence of your own Attractions. Nay, I cannot but accounted it a happy Offence, since it hath proved the occasion of your being undeceived; and when I make a joint reflection on my own happiness, and my Sister's Credulity, I cannot repent me of a disguise, whereof the satisfaction infinitely exceeds the Shame, for it is in your power to restore me the Honour I have deprived myself of, only for your sake; and I shall force him, who hath cajoled my Sister out of her Honour to perform the promise he hath made her, or it shall cost him his Life.  
The Fair Lady was Ravished to hear these words from her disguised Lover, and thought herself obliged to make an extraordinary return to so extraordinàry a demonstration of Affection; and being now fully undeceived as to the Sycophancy of her Cousin Don Henrick, she made him this answer. Signior Don Philip that you have, upon so slight a ground as the little Beauty I can pretend to, engaged yourself in an enterprise so prejudicial to your reputation and descent, I cannot but look on, as a transcendent Expression of your Love; though I do not excuse you as to this, that the Noble Accomplishments you are Master of, might no doubt have more happily and more worthily been otherwise employed. I have resented, as I ought, the little respect my Cousin expressed towards me, and therefore it is but just he should not enjoy me, since it may be inferred from the forwardness of his matching with another, that he never truly intended it. It must needs be an extraordinary joy to me, that I am undeceived before we were joined by that tye which only death can dissolve: I am satisfied as to the little affection he had for me, and I do yours but justice, when I assure you, that I shall be so far from forgetting it, that I shall endeavour all lies in my power to requite it.  
This was delivered with so obliging an accent, that the Amorous Cavalier would have cast himself at her Feet, would she have permitted it; he returned her his thanks with a thousand submissions for so extraordinary a Favour, and the sweet encouragement she was pleased to give his Love; it was not now a seasonable time to expatiate into Compliments; Donna Cornelia was left in the Lady Eleanora's Lodgings, whose return she expected, and Don Philip looked for Don Henrick, to inquire after the Lady he had recommended to his Custody; the Lady Eleanora went to comfort her whom she had left among her Women, and to put in Excecution, what had been resolved, between her and Don Philip. About half an hour after her departure thence, comes Don Henrick to his Chamber, to look after the Lady he had left there: Don Philip told him, that he could stay her no longer, that she was gone, thinking he would not have come to her again: Nay then, I am glad I stayed so long, (says Henrick) since my stay hath occasioned her to do as I would have had her, which was that she might be gone out of the House. This Woman Plagues me extremely, and it was no small happiness to me, that she met not with my Uncle; for I should have been much troubled had she had any discourse with him. Don Philip asked him some odd questions, as he was wont to do, to sift something further out of him; but Don Henrick would discover no more, the other easily apprehended, by the little had fallen from him, what course he intended to take, and the indignation he conceived at his slighting of his Sister was so great, that it was not without much violence done himself, he forbore calling him to accounted for it.  
In the mean time the Lady Eleanora had visited Donna Cornelia, of whom she had received a punctual Relation of her Amours, which were but too much confirmed to her by the promise of Marriage she had brought with her; and after she had entered into a second admiration at the double perfidiousness of her Cousin Don Henrick, she sent to desire her Father to come to her, who being alone with her, she entertained him, with this following Discourse.  
Sir, it hath ever been a laudable Custom, that Fathers should dispose of their Daughters in Marriage, as they either pleased themselves, or found most convenient for their Affairs; but with this Caution, That it should not be absolutely done contrary to their Wills and Inclinations; many are yet willing to do so, out of a presumption, that Matrimony will change Man's Humours; but it is seldom found to work that effect: Those therefore may be said to do well, who, referring the Success to the higher Powers, by an implicit obedience, comply with the disposal of their Parents; but those in my Judgement do better, who use some precaution, and endeavour to prevent the inconveniences, which they must otherwise fall into. I have ever been ready, Sir, to do whatever you commanded me, especially in the business now in agitation, though I have found my Cousin Don Henrick to be of a disposition so contrary to mine, that I promised myself little satisfaction from our being joined together in the inseparable Estate you intended. I have endeavoured to obey you, tho' with some violence to my own inclinations, which directed my Affection to other persons not inferior to him, either in Quality or Estate. I consented to this Marriage because you seemed so much to desire it. When it was fully concluded, there was a person sent to Rome for the dispensation; and even during that time, when I expected my Cousin should have expressed most Love to me, I have found he hath done quite contrary, for he hath given a promise of Marriage to another Lady, whom you shall presently see.  
She thereupon called for Donna Cornelia, whom she had left in her own Chamber, and who immediately came before the Ambassador; having disposed her into a Chair, the Lady Eleanora continued her discourse: This, Sir, is the Lady I spoke of, to whom my Cousin hath given a promise of Marriage under his hand, which she now hath about her, and you shall see, how this perfidious Person became thereby Master of her Honour. Coming hither to speak with you, and Complain of the affront intended her, she met him, who, giving her fair words, locked her into Don Philip's Chamber, under pretence that you were busy, and that it would require some time to stay ere she could see you; some little curiosity occasioned my mies going to that door, which is between my Lodgings and his, and there I came to the knowledge of this Business, having overheard some part of their discourse. I thought fit to bring this Lady to my Chamber, to give you further satisfaction of so pressing a truth; her quality is great, since she is of the House of Gamboa and Toledo, two of the most Illustrious Families in Spain: She is resolved to make the Case known to her Friends, who are very Noble, and of great Credit in this Court, that they may oppose my Marriage and prevent our common Affront. I have hitherto obeyed you as a Father, I now appeal to you my Judge, and I beseech you discharge me of so unjust an obedience for the future; for I am resolved rather to confine myself the remainder of my days, in the most Austere Monastery about this City, than ever be Wife to a man so insensible of Worth and Honour.  
The Ambassador was extremely astonished at both what he saw, and what he had heard; he examined the promise made to Donna Cornelia, and found that that discovery alone was sufficient to prevent his Daughter's Marriage with Henrick; he immediately resolved to break all to pieces, and to dismiss his Nephew, that there might be no more talk of the business; he caused the Ladies to withdraw, and sent for his Nephew, whom he showed the Schedule he had made to Donna Cornelia, ask him whether he knew the Hand; he not a little troubled, and changing Colour, began to deny it; but the Ambassador told him, that as he could not do it sincerely, so it would be very unhandsomely proffered, since the truth would be proved by several of his Letters written with the same hand; at last Don Henrick, not without extreme Confusion, acknowledged, that blinded by Love, he had indeed made that promise, but he would lose his Life ere he performed it.  
Don Philip having quitted his Fool's Coat, and put on a very rich suit, with the Cross of Alcantara on his Coat, and Cloak, heard this Discourse from a corner of the Room, where he was disposed, and not able to contain himself any longer; Signior Henrick, (said he coming up to him) have a better care what you say, and consider her quality whom you injure; her Birth is at least as Noble as yours: she is my Sister, and, as such, I am obliged to vindicate and protect her; if you perform not the promise you have made her, I wear a Sword by my side, which shall force you to do it, if Honour will not. I have already considered what I am in Duty obliged too, as to that point, (replies Don Henrick) and no Man shall force me, by menaces, to do any thing against my Will: This so enraged Don Philip, that he gave Don Henrick a Challenge; the Dispute grew higher and higher, which obliged the Ladies to come in between them, and to give orders the doors should be shut, lest they should put the Challenge in Execution.  
While these things passed, the Ambassador minded not the Person of Don Philip, but imagined him some other Person come thither after his Sister; for, seeing him so well habited with the Cross of Alcantara and without Spectacles, which he constantly wore, he knew him not; but having considered him better, he found that he who challenged his Nephew was the same person, who, by his pleasant Extravagances, had found him so much sport; the Lady Eleanora perceiving her Father had his Eyes fastened on him, with some astonishment, imagined the cause of it; and gave it a check in these Words: He, Sir, whom you see in a Habit so different from that he was wont to wear, and who seemed so ridiculous to you, is Don Philip de Gamboa and Toledo; when this dispute is over, you shall know the motives obliged him to that disguise.  
The Ambassador was the more astonished at that, and would have pressed his Daughter to make a further discovery of that Secret, had he not seen the two Cavaliers, with Swords drawn, ready to make that Room the place of their Duel; he ran in between them, and endeavoured by mildness to persuade his Nephew, not to contest in a business, which was not to his advantage; that if he satisfied not the injured Cavalier, mischief would attend it; that he should not rely on any protection he might hope for from him, inasmuch as seeing the little reason he had on his side, and the affront he intended that Lady, he should rather be against him, by assisting his adversary, than countenance him in so unjust a Cause; that as to his Daughter, he might quit all hope of her, that he should never be her Husband, and that it would discover a great poorness of Spirit in her, if she had any thoughts of kindness for him, after he had so unworthily treated her.  
Don Henrick, finding himself pressed, with reproaches on all sides, and withal harkening to the Advice of his Conscience, thought it best to follow his Uncle's Counsel, he thereupon went with open Arms to his true Wife, to whom he once more gave his Hand as a Husband, and then Embraced his Brother-in-Law, whom he yet knew not: the Lady Eleanora thought it a good opportunity, before the whole Company, to give her Father an Account, how Don Philip had fallen in Love with her, how he got into his retinue in the Quality of a Jester; that she conceived herself obliged to requite the Extraordinary demonstration of his Affection to her, by an Exchange of hers to him, if her Father approved of it; the Old Gentleman had so much Mettle left, as to admire the strange Conducts of Love in all its Operations; and particularly, how it made the wisest Man Mad, and the Mad Wise, making its Advantages of Extravagance itself, to compass its design; without any further demurring, he gave his Consent. Whereupon the Lady Eleanora took him by the hand, and Don Philip was so happy, as, by odd and unlikely means to see all his desires accomplished.  
The Solemnities of both the Marriages were put off till eight days after; all the Grandees about the Court came to them; the Balls thereat, and the Tilt were Extraordinary; but what more nearly touches the Story, is, that the King Honoured these two Cavaliers with great advantages, wherewith Don Philip had also those of a numerous Issue; for which Don Henrick needed not much to have envied him, being the most satisfied man in the World with his choice, whom he infinitely Loved, and thereby made it appear, that the inclinations of two person, before they are United by Matrimony, though by some intervening Occurrences somewhat remitted, may yet, by that sacred tie, be heightened into a Noble and vigorous Flame of perfect Love.   

THE Impostor Out-Witted: A NOVEL.  
IN the great and famous City of Sevil, the Metropolis of Andaluzia, Mother of so many Noble Families, and Excellent Wits, the Treasury of all the Wealth, which flows into Spain from the West-indieses, was Born Don Antonio de Mendoza, a very Accomplished Cavalier, of the Illustrious Family of the Dukes of Alcala, so highly esteemed all over the Kingdom. By their Death, from whom he derived his being in this World, there fell to him an Estate of four Thousand Crowns Annual Rent, upon which he lived very nobly at Sevil, being the most Remarkable Person at all public Actions done about the City. He had at Madrid a Cousin-German who followed the Spanish Court, and was gone thither about some Affairs of great Importance, which he had brought to a happy Issue. Having lived there awhile, he liked it, and the Conversation of the Cavaliers inhabiting it, so well, that he Exchanged the place of his Birth for that Illustrious City. He there became intimately acquainted with an Old Cavalier, whose Name was Don Alonzo de Castiza, a Person who had raised himself into a general Esteem, by the Excellent Endowments he had. Besides which, he was honoured with the Illustrious Order of the Patron of Spain, with a Commandery of two Thousand Ducats of Annual Rent.  
This old Gentleman was a Widower, having but one only Daughter, to whom all his vast Estate was to fall at his Death. Nature it seems had made it her particular concern to enrich this young Lady, with all the Graces and Perfections to be wished in one of her Sex. Which occasioned the envy of all the Ladies about the Court towards her, since she had, in point of Beauty, the same Advantages over them, as the Sun hath over all the rest of the Planets. Her Father, Don Alonzo, wished her well Married to his Mind, that is, one equal to her, in Estate and Extraction. Don Martinio de Mendoza (so was called Don Antonio's Cousin whom I spoke of first) might have aspired to the Honour of making his Addresses to her, as well upon account of the House, from which he was descended, as the Familiar Acquaintance there was between him and her Father Don Alonzo.  
But being a Younger Brother, he thought himself too low, in point of Estate, to pretend to so Advantageous a Match. However, he thought fit to make some Proposals to the Old Gentleman, on the behalf of his Cousin Don Antonio, who lived at Sevil, whom he highly recommended to him for his Excellent Qualities, and the greatness of his Estate; for he was the only Son of a Noble House. Don Alonzo took it very kindly from him, but thought it withal, Prudence, to make further enquiry into the Business, knowing that Persons speaking for their own Relations, are commonly very partial, and think it no mortal Sin to exceed the Truth. So that Don Alonzo, immediately writ to a particular Friend at Sevil, earnestly desiring him to give him an account of the Person and Estate of Don Antonio de Mendoza, inasmuch as it highly concerned the Honour of his House, to meet with a Cavalier Worthy his Alliance, to be Husband to his only Daughter, Donna Catharina.  
'Twas not long ere he received an answer, wherein his Friend confirmed all that Don Martinio had said of his Kinsman, with somewhat more, protesting in the Conclusion, that he was so far from being partial or insincere, in the account he had sent him, that he rather told lesle than truth. He thereupon went to Don Martinio, and told him, that he might write to his Cousin, and assure him he should be very welcome, if he had any Inclinations for his Daughter. He made him answer that he would, and Don Alonzo, as a further Obligation, would have his Daughter's Picture, sent him, that he might therein find some of the rare Qualities that were in her, permitting his Cousin, to be present at the taking of it, that he might assure Don Antonio, the Painter had not flattered her, and that the Copy was below the Original.  
Don Martinio failed not to write to his Cousin, to whom he also sent the Picture, celebrating the Virtues of that Amiable Person, which the Painter could not represent, as he had done the Lineaments of her Beautiful Countenance. His Cousin Don Antonio was extremely satisfied therewith, and referred to him to make some Overtures in the Treaty of Marriage, till he came thither himself, for the further Prosecution whereof, he sent him a full Procuration.  
In the mean time, Don Antonio was preparing for his Journey to Madrid, to wait on his Mistress, who, having received his Picture, was as much taken with it, as he had been with hers, leaving his retinue at Sevil, till a rich Livery, then making, was finished, he began his Journey, having only one Person to wait on him, and a Groom to look to their Mules, who followed them at a little distance. Don Antonio carried always about him his Mistress' Picture enclosed in the same Letter, wherein his Cousin had sent it him. Being come within half a days Journey of Toledo he sent away the Groom, to provide Lodgings for them in the City. He had entertained at a Dinner some of the Inhabitants of Orgaz, which was the place where they had baited. The Cloth being taken away, they fell to Cards; he lost his Money, and was vexed, which occasioned their playing on till he had recovered his Losses, and by that time it was grown later than he could have wished. Being horsed, he and his Man put forward, but ere they had rode a League, Night surprised them, so that they made ashift to lose their way, and got in among certain Olive-Trees, about half a League short of Toledo. Not knowing where they were, and fearing to go too far out of their way, they thought it their best Course to alight, and rest themselves under one of the Olive-Trees, till it were day. They accommodated themselves the best they could, and weariness soon laid them asleep, yet little dreamt of the Misfortune which was to happen to them. Being in their first Sleep, which is commonly the soundest, four Men came to the place, very softly, for the Noise of their Mules brought them thither; and these were of a Profession, which for the most part finds those that are of it more Work by Night than by day. They had been upon a Design which had not taken, and so they were returning very disconsolate with empty Pockets to Toledo.  
Coming up to them, and finding them both asleep, they tied their Hands behind them, and took away all they had, but their Waistcoats and Drawers, and, to get off with more speed and safety, they made use of their Mules. Don Antonio, being thus basely surprised, was exasperated at the Misfortune; but his Man told him that it had happened to them through his fault, because he had not given over playing sooner. They discoursed of it, till the Birds gave them notice of the approach of Aurora. Soon after, hearing the noise of some dattle not far from them, they called to him that looked after them, very much bemoaning the Condition they were in. They asked him, how far it was to Toledo, and he told them it was not quite half a League, but if they would go along with him to a Countryhouse hard by, he would gladly show them the way, and that he doubted not, but the Lady, who lived in it, would relieve them in that extremity.  
They took his Advice, and he brought them to a very fair House. Having knocked at the Gate, it was immediately opened by an old Man, who was Steward to the Lady, and had the oversight of the Shepherds, and the Profits arising from the Sheep. The Shepherd who brought them thither went in to the Lady, and in few Words gave her an account of the Misfortune that happened to those Strangers, and the Condition he had found them in, whereupon she ordered them to be brought up to her Chamber. Don Antonio presented himself to her, very much out of Countenance to see himself almost naked, having upon him only an old Coat, which the Shepherd had lent him. He told her that his Journey was for Madrid, about a Lawsuit of great Importance, not discovering who he was, but only that he was a Gentleman of Sevil, named Don Torpino de Hezzo. The Lady whose Name was Donna Olivia, was much troubled to see him in that deplorable Condition. There were in the House two Chests full of clothes, which had been a Brother's of hers, who died not long before. She ordered two Suits to be brought out, which they put on, that which Don Antonio had proving so fit, that the Lady was much taken with his Person, and had her Eyes always fastened on him. She invited Don Antonio to Dine with her, which he did, taking Occasion ever and anon, to make extraordinary Acknowledgements of the Favours he had received from her.  
They continued two days in that Countryhouse, ere the Lady made any discovery of the Affections she had for Don Antonio, save only what she did with her Eyes, which were the silent Interpreters of the Trouble she was in. Don Antonio was not insensible of it, and had some Discourse concerning it with his Man; yet had he not the Confidence to tell him what he really thought of it, being (as he was) upon the point of disposing himself otherwise. The Servant advised him not to let slip so fair an opportunity, and told him he should not be so hard-hearted, towards a Lady of so great Worth, and one that had so highly obliged them. The Solitude of the place, the Beauty of the Lady, and the silent Discoveries she made him by her Gestures, obliged Don Antonio to answer her Affection. He entered into some Love Discourses with her; but though she were really in Love with him, yet would she not grant him any particular Favour, unless he first assured her she should be his Wife, and that she had a Promise of it under his hand.  
Don Antonio, on the other side, had so great a Kindness for her, that he had in a manner forgot the Mistress, whose Picture he had carried about him, and advising with his Servant, (who was a dangerous Confident, and a subtle Fellow) what he should do; he told him very roundly, that he ought not to let slip so sweet and favourable an opportunity; that he might easily have the Enjoyment of her, and withal give her the Promise of Marriage she desired, provided he put not into it his own Name, but filled it with the Supposititious Name he had assumed, since she knew neither his Country nor Extraction. Don Antonio followed his Advice, and thereupon had his Desires of Donna Olivia, who having made the Blot, could do no lesle than give him leave to enter. He continued there four days, at the end whereof, acquainting the Lady that his Business at Madrid was of such Importance as required his Personal Attendance there, she consented to his departure, on Condition he would return again as soon as he could; which he with Oaths, promised to do.  
The next Morning betimes, he departed, leaving the Lady o're-flown with Tears; he was somewhat troubled, or at least pretended it. The Lady having furnished him with all things necessary, he put forward; but ere he had gone far, he received some part of the Chastisement which he deserved for his Perfidiousness, for the Mule he was mounted on, being apt to start, gave him a fall, whereby he so sprained one Foot, that he was forced to make some stay at Illescas, a place half way between Toledo and Madrid, and to send for Surgeons to set all things right again.  
Leaving him there confined to his Chamber for some days; let us return to Donna Olivia, who very much bewailed the absence of her Gallant, the very thought of whom caused her no small Affliction. A Servant of hers who had made the Bed where he lay, found, under the Bolster, a Picture of the Lady whom Don Antonio was to be married to, folded up in a Letter which his Cousin had writ to him from Madrid, which she delivered to her Mistress, who opening the Paper, saw the Picture, whereat she was much disquieted; but she was much more astonished, when she cast her Eye on the ensuing Letter, which contained these Words:  
Dearest Cousin,  
YOU will receive herein enclosed the Picture of the Lady Donna Catharina de Castiza, which is very exactly taken from the Original; I doubt not but the charms of her Beauty will oblige you to hasten your journey. Her Father, Don Alonza de Castiza, expects you with great Impatience. In the mean time, the Contract of Marriage is a drawing up, and will be ready, before you be here to Sign it. Assure yourself you will be extremely satisfied, that you have found so Excellent a Wife. I am  
Your Affectionate Cousin, Don Martinio de Mendoza.  
Donna Olivia had scarcely come to the period of this Letter, but, through the Trouble she received at the reading of it, she fell into a Swoon, and continued therein above half an hour, in the Arms of her Maid. At last she came to herself, bursting into Sighs and Tears; she railed at the Sevillian Impostor, but much more at her own simplicity, that she had so lightly prostituted her Honour to an unknown Person, whom so strange an Adventure had brought to her House. She spent that wholeday in weeping and bemoaning her Misfortune: But considering withal, what hazard her Reputation was in, she resolved it should not be said of her, that she had been so basely affronted by any Man. Whereupon, with the light she received from the Letter, of the Occasion of his Journey, and the Person to whom he was to be Married, she put things in Order to her Removal to Madrid; which she might better do than any other, in regard she had not any Kinsman near enough to whom she might Communicate her Intention. She Communicated her Design to Dilario, an old Servant of hers, who had brought her up from the Cradle, and was very glad to wait on her.  
Upon this Resolution, she caused two Wagons to be loaden with all things necessary to furnish a House fit to receive a Person of Quality, and took her way towards Madrid. Being come thither, she commanded her Servant Dilario, to inquire where abouts lived Don Alonzo de Castiza, and whether the young Cavalier, whom he intended to make his Son-in-Law, were come from Sevil. She understood by him, that he was not yet come, but that they expected him, which much troubled the Lady, who knew nothing of the Accident had happened to him near Illescas.  
The first thing this affronted Lady did, was to take a House for herself near that of Don Alonzo de Castiza, and ordered Dilario to live in it as Master thereof, that done, she sent him to Don Alonzo's, to inquire whether she wanted a waiting-Gentlewoman, for she would disguise herself, that she might not be known by Don Antonio. The Business had the effect she desired, for Donna Catharina was then enquiring for a Widow to wait on her, a Custom much practised in Spain, where Ladies of Quality have several of them, whom, being Widows, they call Duenna's. When this was proposed by Dilario, who went under the Name of Father to his Mistress, Donna Catharina not only received her into her Service, but her Father, Dilario, was entertained into Don Alonzo's. Dilario gave his Mistress an account of his Negotiation, whereat she was extremely satisfied: So that having put herself into the habit of a Duenna, she went the next day to present herself to Donna Catharina, conducted by her pretended Father, Dilario. They were both very kindly entertained by Don Alonzo de Castiza and his Daughter. Donna Olivia wished she had not been so handsome, that the Suitor she expected might be the lesle taken with her; however, she Courageously resolved to prosecute the Impostor she was engaged in. Donna Catharina asked Dilario what Countryman he was. He told her that he was born at a place called Utrera, near Sevil; that his Name was jacob de Granatus (by which we shall henceforth call him) that his Daughter had been Married to a Merchant of that City, who died as he was going for the West-indieses, leaving so great Debts behind him, that all his Estate went to satisfy his Creditors.  
Don Alonzo hearing that Granatus was of Andaluzia, asked him, whether he had lived any time at Sevil. He told him that he had often been in that City, but that his Daughter had lived there. Don Alonzo would not at that time inquire any farther, nor enter into any Discourse with him concerning Don Antonio de Mendoza. Donna Olivia was entertained as Duenna to Donna Catharina, who took such an Affection to her, that she trusted her with all her Keys, to the great discontent of her other Servants, who had lived with her many years. Granatus told them that he had a House of his own, not far from Don Alonzo's, and a Wife (for Flora an ancient Maid of Donna Catharina's, was to act that part) whereupon he had no Lodgings assigned him in Don Alonzo's.  
It is now time we return to Don Antonio de Mendoza, who being recovered of his fall, came to Madrid, and lighted at the House of his Cousin Martinio, who was much troubled that he had not been there sooner. He told him the Cause of it, and gave him a particular account of all had passed in Donna Olivia's Countryhouse, even to the promise he had made her, under a feigned Name. Don Martinio asked him, what Quality the Lady was of: whereto he answered, that her Name was Donna Olivia de Priola, and that she was of one of the most Noble Families of Toledo. Don Martinio, was very much dissatisfied with his procedure, reprehending him with the unworthy Action he had committed in abusing and dishonouring that Lady, and that it was to be feared, she might hear of his coming to Madrid, in order to a Marriage to another, and find means to be revenged for that affront.  
They afterwards fell into Discourse concerning Donna Catharina, and Don Antonio told him, he extremely fancied the Picture he had seen of her, but that, with the other things he had been robbed of, he had lost it: though he knew well enough, he had left it under the Beds-Head at Donna Olivia's, which troubled him not a little, however he dissembled it. Don Martinio told Don Antonio, that it were requisite he put himself into other Apparel, before he waited on his Mistress, and that he must keep within Doors till they were ready. Within two days a very fair Riding-Suit was brought him, wherein; pretending he was but newly come to Town, he goes to the House of Don Alonzo de Castiza, by whom he was received with great Demonstrations of Kindness. Notice was immediately carried up to Donna Catharina that the Person designed to be her Husband was coming up to her Chamber, where she was with her Maids about her, who had just made an end of dressing her. Don Antonio coming in, conducted by Don Alonzo and Do●… Martinio, was infinitely satisfied at the sight of his Mistress, whom he very civilly and discreetly saluted, for he was a Person of an Excellent Wit, and a Confident Carriage and Demeanour. He found by the Original of Donna Catharina, that the Painter had done his Work very faithfully, a Virtue not much practised by Painters, especially upon such Occasions as that was. He was ravished to see so great a Beauty, and she on the other side was wel●… satisfied with the handsome Personage of Don Antonio.  
There were yet some things to be done in order to the absolute Conclusion of the Marriage, at which there was a necessity of Don Antonio's Presence; whereupon he, Don Alonzo and Don Martinio withdrew into another Room, where they locked themselves in with a Notary, and some Friends, who were to be Witnesses at the Articles of the Agreement. Donna Catharina continued all that time in her Chamber, with her Servants talking of Don Antonio, her Husband to be, every one congratulating her good Fortune, save only Donna Olivia, who saying nothing at all, her Mistress observed it, and being all alone with her, Donna Artimisa, (said she to her, for that was the Name she had assumed) whence comes it, that, while all the rest celebrate the Happiness of my choice, you only are silent? Methinks you might have contributed somewhat to the public Congratulation, though you had done it only out of Complaisance. I pray give me some Reason for it. Donna Olivia had done it purposely, in Prosecution of her Design, and this Question came as seasonably as she could have wished it, so that she made her this answer. As to the Person of Don Antonio, Madam, there is not any thing to be said against it, nay he is so accomplished that there is not any thing to be wished in him, which he is not already possessed of. My silence proceeds hence, that I had a particular Knowledge of him at Sevil, for I lived in a quarter of the City, which he much frequented. I neither will, nor aught to conceal from you the Occasion of his so often coming thither; for it is my Duty to be faithful to you, as having no other Design than to serve you, and endeavour your quiet, so as that you may not live in a perpetual dis-enjoynment of yourself all the rest of your days; know then, Madam, that if you Match yourself with Don Antonio you will be brought to a kind of Civil death, instead of receiving the satisfaction of Wedlock. Donna Catharina was much astonished at this discourse, and pressed her Duenna, to discover to her more clearly, what she had but too great a desire to tell her: Whereupon entreating her to retire into a more secret place, where they might not be observed by her other Women, Donna Olivia gave her this Malicious account of the perfidious Don Antonio.  
I should not live with the respect and duty I owe you, as my Mistress, nor according to the Affection I bear you, if I expressed not myself clearly to you, in a business wherein you are so highly concerned, and on which depends your greatest Felicity in this World; know then, Madam, that Don Antonio fell in Love with a Lady at Sevil, one very handsome and well descended, in a word wanting nothing but a Fortune Suitable to her Quality; he Courted her so earnestly, that she, finding herself obliged by so great demonstrations of affection-Letters, and continual Embassies, attended with Presents, from Don Antonio, satisfied his desires, upon a promise that he would make her his Wife, whereof there are many Witnesses; but the business was to be kept secret for a time; for Don Antonio's Father was then a live, who, having received some Intelligence of that Love, endeavoured all he could to prevent Don Antonio's Marriage with Donna Marcellina de Loprezza; (so was the Lady called.) The continuance of his Visits to her produced living proofs, which were two Son's and a Daughter, who were at that time with the Mother; when Don Antonio's Father was removed out of the way, (which happened not long after) Donna Marcellina expected he should make good his promise, and Mary her, but he, for some time, came not so much as to see her; what Inconveniences she was put to from the time of their acquaintance she knows to her Sorrow, and I am not Ignorant thereof, for I lived near her, and went often to her Hou●…e.  
Being now convinced that he intended to leave her in the Lurch, she discovered the business to two Cousin- Germans of hers, who were so ●…nrag'd thereat, that they immediately resolved to oblige Don Antonio, by force, to perform the promise he had made to their Kinswoman. Don Antonio went to a certain Farm he had, not far from Sevil, to avoid his adversaries, who, knowing he went out of the way purposely because he would not satisfy their Cousin, resolved to be the Death of him: things were in this posture when my Father brought me to Madrid, where I have been about this six Weeks; this is the Account I can give you of Don Antonio, who must not think himself secure in this Court; for the Lady's Kinsmen, whom I know to be Gallant and Stout Persons, as soon as they hear of his being here, will be sure to attend his Motion, and revenge the aff●…ont done to their Cousin; nay it will be easier for them to do it here than at Sevil.  
DonnaCatharina heard very attentively the Story told her by the Duenna, and was extremely troubled, to find Don Antonio so far engaged with another. She asked her a thousand questions, among others, whether he was much in Love with that Mistress, whether that Donna Marcellina was very handsome, etc. Whereto she made such Answers as were suitable to her design, which was to put Don Antonio clearly out of her favour. Donna Catharina resolved to give her Father an Account of all, and leave it to him to inform himself more fully of the business. She immediately went to the Room where he was to speak to him, for all things were concluded as to the Marriage.  
In the mean time Donna Olivia was left in the outer-room, where the Women and Duenna's are wont to wait, there came in to them a Servant of Don Antonio's, whom he had sent to the Post for Letters from Sevil; enquiring for his Master, to give him the Packet. Donna Olivia told him, that he was within, but that as soon as he came out, she would deliver it to him; having opened the Packet; she put into it a Letter, which she immediately writ, and, Sealing it up again, came where her Mistress was; she asked her whither she was going with those Letters? The other answered without the least discovery of any Malice, that they were directed to Signior Don Antonio, and had been brought thither a little before by one of his Servants from the Sevil Post. Curiosity was an ingredient of the first Woman, and it is very fruitfully spread through the whole Sex. Donna Catharina showed herself not free from it on this Occasion, and she was the more excusable considering the Story had been told her by the subtle Duenna; she was tempted to open the Packet, wherein finding one Letter Written with a Woman's hand, (which was that, Written, by Donna Olivia) she could do no lesle than open it, and directing her Eye down to the bottom of it found it subscribed by one Donna Marcellina de Loprezza; she read it, and was confirmed in what before she not fully credited.  
The Letter.  
My Dearest,  
YOUR Absence and my Indisposition have reduced me to such an Extremity, that I cannot imagine I have any long time to live, it being impossible I should hold out, after the News I have heard of your Resolution to be Married at Madrid, which cannot easily be done, without a transcendent Baseness, by a Person so nearly engaged to me as you are. You know that you cannot bestow on another what is so Lawfully due to me, especially if you make the least Reflection on the precious Pledges there are between us thereof. I have no other Advice to give you, as things now stand, but that, if you are at such a loss of all Shame and Conscience, there is a Deity, who sees our most secret Thoughts, and passes a just judgement on them; and that I have many Noble Friends, who measuring the small Account you make of them by your slighting of me, will not fail to revenge the affront done to us all. I hope we shall not be forced to those Extremities, considering how highly you are obliged to do things suitably to the Nobleness of your Birth, and to Acknowledge, as you ought, her, whom, while we, both Live, you must look on, as  
Your Lawful Wife, Donna Marcellina de Loprezza.  
This Letter fully satisfied Donna Catharina, that all she had heard from the malicious Duenna was true; her Father coming into the Room as she had done reading it, she acquainted him with all that concerned Don Antonio, showing him the Letter from Donna Marcellina; he was extremely astonished, to find that a Cavalier of so noble a Family, had abused a Lady of such Quality, and that having Children by her, he should be so impudent as to make his Addresses to his Daughter; he forbore reproaching him therewith, till he had better informed himself from a Friend of his of Sevil, then at Madrid, whom he immediately went to look for.  
Don Alonzo was hardly got out of doors, but Don Antonio and his man came in, for his man having told him that he had delivered the Packet to one of DonnaCatharina's Women, he was come to receive it from her, since it was not brought to his Cousin's, whither all his Letters were directed; it was his Fortune to meet with Donna Catharina in the Outer-room, where her Father had left her; I should not have returned so soon, my dearest Lady, (said he to her) had not somewhat extraordinary obliged me thereto; it is to receive some Letters, which my Man tells me he delivered to one of your Women. She thought (says Donna Catharina) that you had been still with my Father: I casually meeting her as she was coming into the Room, asked her what she came for; she answering, it was to deliver you the Packet, I took it from her and (presuming that a Cavalier of your Age and Complexion could not have lived to this time in Sevil, and not have an inclination for some Lady) a certain Conjunction of Curiosity and Jealousy persuaded me to open it. That Curiosity hath done me a Courtesy, and hath satisfied me in some things which before I only suspected; and therefore I forbear desiring your excuse, since I have received so good an Information, before I was any further engaged with you; for had it come too late, I had been ruined: Here's a Letter from a Person you should be well acquainted with; this would have been enough to undeceive me, but it only confirms a relation I had received before, upon which I was almost resolved to put such a Check to your pretensions to me, as that you should have but little encouragement to continue them. Farewell, my presence will but trouble you, this Letter will acquaint you with what you are not Ignorant of.  
Don Antonio receiving the Letter out of her hand was not a little surprised, not imagining what might have happened to him. He read it, and presently inferred, that it was a trick put upon him by some envious Person, who was desirous to obstruct his happiness. Meeting with Donna Olivia, (whom, as we said before, he knew not in her Widow's Habit) ah Madam, (said he to her) what Forgeries are these? I a Mistress at Sevil, and of this Name? I Children by her, and that upon a Promise of Marriage? If it be not the greatest Untruth that ever Human Malice invented, let me never look Man in the Face again. (For my part, replies the subtle Duenna) I find myself inclined to believe, that what you say may be true; but your main Concernment is to bring my Lady to that Persuasion. I know her to be of such an Humour as not easily to quit a Resentment, which she entertains upon just Grounds; and I much Question, whether she will admit your Addresses any further, for I know she hath acquainted her Father with all, and he is gone to a Gentleman of Sevil, an intimate Friend of his, who is now in this City. I am very glad of it, (says Don Antonio) for he will find it to be an absolute Impostor, and that there is not any Lady in Sevil that goes under the Name of Donna Marcellina de Loprezza.  
But I beseech you tell me, Madam, whether your intimacy be very great with the Lady Donna Catharina; so great (replied she) that I am the only person in her favour, and to whom she is pleased to communitate her thoughts; if it be so, (says Don Antonio) it's possible you may procure me the favour from her, that I may vindicate myself. I much question whether she will ever speak to you again, (said she) for she is extremely incensed against you, and when once angry, if justly, she is the hardest to be appeased that ever I knew; but, (said he) if you are so much in her Favour, you may prevail somewhat with her, by representing to her the Extraordinary affection I have for her. It is in my power, (said she) to do with her what you desire; but what will you give me if I can procure you a favourable Audience from her? any thing you can desire, (said he to her) if you mind only matter of advantage. You see I am very young, (said she) and consequently may hope to be Married again, Money is the only principal Verb, which I have occasion for; if I answer your Expectation, may I rely on your Liberality for my Reward. That you may know how earnestly I desire it, (says, he) do what I require, and I will make your Fortune heavier by five hundred Crowns than it is. I most humbly thank you, (replies she) but I must tell you, Sir, that I have been so deluded by the verbal promises sometimes made me by a Person of your Quality, that I have reason to mistrust whatever is promised, ●…f I have it not in writing; you will be pleas●…d to excuse me, Sir, if my Fear to be de●…eiv'd as I have been, force me to these Pre●…autions, and to assure yourself, that those ●…atisfied, I will endeavour to serve you to the ●…tmost of my Power. To give you absolute ●…atisfaction, as to that point, Madam, (said ●…e) help me with Pen, Ink and Paper, and ●…ou shall have what security you Desire your ●…elf.  
Donna Olivia would see the Issue of it, and ●…o brought him what he desired. Don Anto●…io kept his Word with her; nay, either out ●…f Ignorance, of the Form of such Obliga●…ions, or to make a greater Expression of his Earnestness that she should assist him, he pro●…ed so Liberal, as to give her a Blank Signed ●…nd Sealed, not mentioning the Sum where●…o he obliged himself, telling her he had not ●…pecified it, out of a Design to requite her ●…eyond his Promises, proportionably to the Service she should do him, in the Recovery of his Mistress' Favour. She saw this happened according to her Wishes, so that acknowledging the Favour Don Antonio had done her, she promised him her utmost endeavours to deserve it, by recovering him into the Favour of his Mistress. The Amorous Cavalier believed her, and took his leave. Dilario, coming in soon after, Olivia gave him an account of what Progress she had made, and putting into his Hands the Blank Signed by Don Antonio, bid him write abov●… his Name a formal Promise of Marriage, dating it about the time of his being at her Countryhouse near Toledo, with two Witnesses●… which Dilario did, imitating as near as he coul●… Don Antonio's Hand.  
That day, Don Alonzo failed to meet the Gentleman of Sevil, and put of the visit he intended him till the next. In the mean time, Donna Olivia understood from Donna Catharina, that she was resolved to lead Ape's i●… Hell, rather than have Don Antonio to he●… Husband. Having already trusted her Duenna with some of her Secrets, she though●… she might make an absolute discovery of herself to her, and thereupon told her, how that before her Father had treated of a Marriage between her and Don Antonio, she had been Courted by a Person of Honour, named Don Valerio de Merdea, that she had some Inclination towards him; and that the Persuasions of her Father, had prevailed with her to entertain the Applications of Don Antonio; but having discovered his Unworthiness, she was resolved to re-address her Affection to Don Valerio.  
Donna Olivia was almost out of herself for Joy to hear that News, for it put her into a Confidence, that her Design would take; ●…nd the more to promote it, she disposed Donna Catharina as much as lay in her Power ●…o favour Don Valerio. He must needs be dis●…leased with me, (says she to her) yet I ●…oubt not but a Letter from me will re-ingage him my humble Servant. The crafty ●…uenna, proffered to be the Bearer of it, on Condition she might do it by Coach. Don●…a Catharina was very glad to find her Wo●…an so ready to serve her, especially in a Bu●…ness which she was so much pleased with; ●…nd so she commanded a Coach to be made ●…eady, and that she should go immediately to ●…e Don Valerio, to whom she writ a Letter. Donna Olivia took Coach, pretending to go to Don Valerio's House, but she went to her own, ●…nd bid the Coachman return to Donna Ca●…arina, and tell her, that for fear notice ●…ight be taken of the Coach, she would go ●…foot to the Place where she had sent her, ●…onducted by Granatus her pretended Father. ●…rom that House, she writ two Letters, one, ●…o Don Alonzo, desiring him to come to her; ●…he other to Don Valerio, to the same Effect, with Directions to find the House.  
While the Letters were carried abroad, she put off her Widow's Habit, and put on that of a Person of the highest Quality, expecting these two Visits with the accustomed Ceremonies of Spain. Don Valerio de Merde●… was not long a coming, though he knew nothing of the Person who had written to him. There had not past many Compliments between him and Donna Olivia, but word wa●… brought her that Don Alonzo de Castiza was alighted out of his Coach, and was coming into the House. Sir, (said she to Don Valerio) I am obliged to speak with the Person who is coming up, all alone. Not but that you may hear the Discourse we shall have together; and therefore let me entreat you to stand behind this Curtain, whence you will hear all we say, for it concerns you more than you imagine, and will prove to your Advantage. Don Valerio complied, not knowing what might be the issue of this Precaution.  
Don Alonzo came in, and having taken a Seat, Donna Olivia (whom he knew not as she was then dressed) Addressed herself to him with this Discourse. I doubt not, Sir, but you somewhat wonder, you should be entreated hither by a Letter, and that from a Person not known to you. To recover you from that Confusion, I will give you an account of myself. I was Born in the Imperial City of Toledo, the only Daughter of the House from which I am descended, and Heir thereof. I am of the Family of Priola, so well known all over Spain, that I need say nothing of it. As to my Quality, I am to tell you farther, that my Father was, in his time, honoured with the Order of St. james, and my Brother of that of Alcantara, with the Command of a Troop of Horse under his Majesty in Flanders, upon his Death I retired to a Countryhouse I have near Toledo, where I lived privately, contenting myself with the Innocent Enjoyments of a Country Life, without the least Acquaintance of any thing of Love, till that, one Morning a Shepherd of mine brought to my House, two Men, who had been robbed, and stripped the Night before by certain High-way-Men. I took Compassion of them, especially him who by his Demeanour seemed to be the Master, and out of two Chests of clothes my Brother had left, I furnished them with two Suits, wherewith they covered their Nakedness. They seemed to be very thankful for so seasonable a Favour; but the more considerable of the two hath treated me very ungratefully, which is the ordinary stile of Courtiers, and hath requited my Charitable Offices only with Flatteries and Deceit.  
I was so simple as to be cajoled, by the Caresses he made me, during four days that I kept him at my House, and he prevailed so far with me, that I was no longer at my own Disposal. The reiterated Oaths and Protestations of a Person of that Worth, raised me into a Persuasion that he really loved me, and that induced me to love him again; to be short, upon a Promise he made me of Marriage, he got me in a Humour to grant him the greatest of Favours. He made me believe that his going to Court was for the Prosecution of some Law-Business that concerned him very highly. He desired my leave to go to Madrid, promising to return again in a short time, but with such Demonstrations of Love as might easily have prevailed with one who had not fancied him so affectionately as I had done. I supplied him with all things necessary, and he left me extremely troubled at his departure. Now, by a Picture and Letter he left behind him under the Bolster, I found that the Occasion of his coming to this Court was in Order to a Marriage between him, and that Miracle of Beauty Donna Catharina, your Daughter. Now, our Honour being the most considerable thing we ought to be tender of, I could do no lesle, upon the procedure of Don Antonio, than resolve to come to this Court, and to apply myself to my Friends, that, by their Favour, I might cross the Marriage he is about, and you will find, that I may easily do it, if you but see what Cards I have to play.  
I conceived my first overture should be to acquaint you with my Disgrace, the Dishonour I have run into by the Acquaintance of Don Antonio, and his Treachery towards me, that receiving it from my own Mouth, you may not be too forward to conclude what is already resolved between you, as I have understood. With the Paper I have here in my Hand, I will prosecute him to the utmost; it is under his own Hand and Seal, and Witnesses to it: be pleased, Sir, to peruse it, and see whether I have not Reason to prosecute this Ungrateful and Perjured Man, and to force him to a performance of the Promise he hath made me.  
Don Alonzo was astonished at this Relation of Donna Olivia's, and, by what was put into his Hands, found out the Disposition of Don Antonio, and concluded him a fickle imprudent Person, who pursued his Enjoyments, without any thought of the Consequences thereof, and thereupon he resolved there should be no farther talk of any Marriage between him and his Daughter. Opening the Paper which Donna Olivia had given him, he found in it these Words.  
THis present Writing, written with my own Hind, and Sealed with my Seal, Witnesseth, that I, Don Antonio de Mendoza, an Inhabitant of Sevil, acknowledge myself to be the Lawful Husband of Donna Olivia de Priola, an Inhabitant of Toledo, and that I will perform the present Promise I make her of Marriage whensoever I shall be, by her, thereto required. Signed and Sealed in the presence of Dilario and Flora, Servants to the said Donna Olivia.  
Don Antonio de Mendoza.  
Having read this promise, and knowing the Hand and Seal of Don Antonio, Don Alonzo said to her, Madam, I am very much troubled, that Don Antonio (a Person so well descended as he is) should be guilty of so unworthy an Action, and a Demeanour so full of Treachery; for at the time when he gave you this Writing, he was coming hither purposely to be Married to my Daughter. But the Accounted you have given me of him is such, that I assure you, I will have no more to do with him, since you have so much Reason to oppose it. Prosecute your own Right, and leave him not till you have obtained your Desires, and be assured I shall assist you to the utmost of my Power, since I find your Honour so highly concerned in it. I have some Friends here, and those powerful, I will engage them all to serve you, that you may find I am a Person, who prefers a just Cause before all Self-Interest.  
Donna Olivia gave him very humble thanks for so great a Favour, and the Tears that fell from her at the close of her Discourse, heightened his Zeal and Tenderness towards her. Don Alonzo took along with him the Writing which Donna Olivia had shown him, that he might thereby induce Don Antonio to an Acknowledgement of his Fault. With those Protestations he took leave of Donna Olivia, promising to see her again within a short time, and to return the promise of Marriage, reiterating the Desires he had to serve her. He thereupon left her, giving Don Valerio the Liberty to come upon the Stage. As soon as he had taken his seat, you have understood, (says Donna Olivia, to him) if so be you have heard the Discourse between Don Alonzo and myself, what hath passed between me and Don Antonio. Upon which account, (as you have heard from her Father) you find he is never like to be Husband to the fair Donna Catharina. She sent me hither to acquaint you, that what hath been done on her part in order to the Marriage between her and Don Antonio was purely out of Compliance with the Commands of her Father, and that she is glad of the Occasion she now hath to quit him, and reassume that Kindness and Affection she ever had for you. What I say, you will find in Writing under her Hand, when you have perused this Letter. Don Valerio having read it, was the most satisfied Man in the World, to find his blasted hopes now beginning to spring again.  
Donna Olivia perceiving it, to confirm his Satisfaction, continued her Discourse to him thus: I know Signior Don Valerio, you will be astonished in yourself, how this Letter should fall into my Hands, it is myself only can unriddle it. Being in Love, as you are, you know that that little Divinity is the Author of many Disguises and Transformations, as you are taught by Ovid in his Metamorphosis, and consequently you doubt not, but that I, Loving an Unconstant Person, who had had such precious Pledges of my Affection, should leave nothing unattempted to recover my Honour, and oblige him to the Satisfaction of what he owes me. I am come to this Court, with a Design, being what I am, to get into the Service of Donna Catharina, and have effected it. For though you see me in this House, (which was taken upon my account) I live in hers, waiting on her in the Quality of a Duenna, a part I have assumed, the better to elude Don Antonio, and to do all lay in my Power to put him out of my Mistress' Favour; and I have also brought that so far about, that I am Confident there will never be any Marriage between them, and she is wholly inclined to Favour you. Now consider with yourself what you would have me to say to your Mistress, for I am just going to put on my Widow's Habit, and I must return presently, and am afraid she will think I have stayed too long. If you will return her an answer, you have here all things requisite to do it. I think it necessary you should, that Donna Catharina may see, I have punctually obeyed her Commands. As to the secret of my Disguise, I pray keep it such, for it concerns me, that it should not be discovered a while. I rely on your Discretion, and, knowing you to be a Person of Honour and Worth, I presume you will not discover it.  
This Discourse very much surprised Don Valerio, who took Occasion to commend her Courage and Generosity, and returned her his most humble thanks, for the Favour she had done him, in entrusting him with the secret of her Love, and prayed Heaven to give him Life to acknowledge and requite so great an Obligation. He promised her not to discover any thing till she commanded him to do it; and thereupon, seeing her in haste to be gone, he writ a Letter in answer to what he had received from his Mistress, full of Amorous Compliments, and Protestations of Fidelity to the last gasp. While he was Writing Donna Catharina put on her Widow's Habit, and made all the hast she could to Don Alonzo's.  
In the mean time Don Antonio, extremely resenting the Impostor put upon him, acquainted his Cousin, Don Martinio with it, whereupon they went both together to Don Alonzo's. He not being within, they asked for Donna Catharina, who came out without any Ceremony to receive their Visit, that it might be the shorter; for she had no great mind to see Don Antonio. The poor Gentleman endeavoured to vindicate himself, swearing a thousand Oaths, that he never heard of any Lady in Sevil, of the name mentioned in the Letter, and that no doubt some envious Person had put this trick upon him; and that if Don Alonzo should upon enquiry find it to be true, he would be content to lose his Honour and Life, nay more, the hopes of ever enjoying her.  
The earnestness of his Discourse put Donna Catharina into some doubt, that what she had heard was some Impostor advanced purposely to obstruct his Pretensions, and referred it to her Father to make a full discovery thereof. Her answer to them was, that she was not at her own disposal, that it was her duty, to comply with that of her Father, and consequently, she could not quit the Ill-impression she had received of Don Antonio, till she were better informed of the truth; that her Father would come in ere long, and she could take no resolution without his Orders, in a business of so great importance.  
While they were engaged in this discourse, Don Alonzo comes in from the visit he had made to Donna Olivia. Don Martinio made him a short relation of what had happened, and renewed to him the just complaint which his Cousin had reason to make of the Crime laid to his charge. Whereupon both desiring him to hold his hand, at least till there were an Exact enquiry made into the business, he desired them to sit down, and gave them this Answer.  
Gentlemen, I went out in hopes to be informed by some Friends of Sevil, now here, whether that which is imputed to Don Antonio were true, and I could not meet with them; but if I had found them, it's possible they might know nothing of the business, for Sevil is a great City, and some parts of it lie at such a distance from others, that they may well be accounted different places. What I found most certain is, that Don Antonio hath made a promise of Marriage to a Lady of Toledo, who entertained him at a Countryhouse of here's, after he had been Robbed by certain Thiefs; and what is yet more to be considered, she thought it not much to secure his affection by the forfeiture of her Honor. I have it from the Lady herself, who sent for me, and showed me the promise under his Hand, which since we all know, there can be no evasion.  
He thereupon showed it both the Cousins, who were both at such a loss that they knew not what to say, especially Don Antonio, who sufficiently betrayed his guilt by his astonishment, but swore withal that he had not made that promise under his own Name, but under a feigned. But Don Martinio knowing all the Circumstance of the business, was most Liberal of his reproaches to his Cousin, which raising a certain compassion in Don Alonzo, forced this Discourse from him.  
Signior Don Antonio, we find by many Experiences, that a young man, once fallen in Love, will do any thing to obtain his desires; that Love should overcome you, I wonder not at all; but what occasions my astonishment, is, that you should have the confidence to Address yourself to a Person of the Quality, this Lady is of, and dishonour her, without ever considering, that, in time, she might acquaint her Friends therewith, who would be sure to revenge the affront; and what adds to this astonishment, is, that you durst do such an Action when you were coming hither purposely in order to your matching with my Daughter, for whom, if any credit may be given to your Letters, you pretended to have a passionate affection. I see not how your Heart could be capable of such a Competition of Passions, that you should pretend the greatest inclinations imaginable for one, and treat of a Marriage with another; being a Person of Honour, I doubt not but you will make it appear in you Actions, and that is, that you stand to the Promise you made to the Lady Olivia, though it were only out of this Consideration, that it argues a more Generous Nature to do that willingly, which must otherwise unwillingly be done. The Lady is not so destitute of Friends, as you perhaps imagine; she is now at Madrid, come expressly to recover her debt, which no doubt she will; and her cause being so just, 'tis not likely she will want Assistance. My Advice is, that you endeavour to prevent the ill reports which the business must raise of you; perform what you have promised, and let not your Love to my Daughter blind you any further, for I am resolved to shut her up in a Cloister, for the remainder of her Life, rather than she shall ever be your Wife.  
With that he rose up, and, without any Compliments, went into another Room. Donna Catharina followed him, and the two Cousins, without so much as a word exchanged, went home, where Don Martinio fell into bitter expostulations with his Cousin, for his engaging himself in so unworthy an Action. Don Antonio had nothing to reply, but that he was astonished how that promise came to be signed with his own Name, having made it only out of a supposititious.  
Leaving them in that Confusion, making several Reflections on the Adventure, let us return to the feigned Waiting-woman, who was got back to Don Alonzo's, and had delivered Don Valerio's Letter to Donna Catharina. She was infinitely satisfied with it, as fearing he would not have been so easily retrieved into her Service. Donna Catharina acquainted her, how that Don Antonio and his Cousin had been there; what had passed between them and her Father; and that he had absolutely dismissed them, it being discovered, that Don Antonio had committed another impertinence, and had made a promise of Marriage to a Lady of Toledo, who was come express to Madrid, to obstruct his pretensions to her. Donna Olivia pretended the greatest astonishment in the World, and burst forth into imprecations against Don Antonio.  
In the mean time there came a Message to Donna Catharina from a She-Cousin of hers, ●…nviting her to a Comedy which was to be ●…epresented at her House, that Night, where●…o she sent Answer, that she would come; Donna Olivia having made so successful a progress in her business, bethought herself of an ●…nvention that should bring it to an absolute Period, for she had the Management of all. She told Donna Catharina, that if she pleased ●…o wave her going to the Comedy she might ●…ave a meeting that Night with Don Valerio ●…n a secure place, to wit at her Father's House ●…here she might do what she pleased herself; ●…he Lady had a great kindness for Don Vale●…io, and was desirous to prevent the reproaches he might make upon her former discard●…ng of him, and so she accepted the proffer made by her Woman. She immediately sent for Granatus, and gave him a Letter for Don Valerio, whereby he was desired to come that Night at Eight to Donna Olivia's House. He was sent with another to Don Antonio de Mendoza acquainting him that Donna Catha●…ina, notwithstanding the Indignation of her Father, and what she herself had said, was resolved secretly to Mary him, and desired to meet him that Night, at a house, whither the Bearer would bring him, and that he should not fail to be there at Nine. The two Cavaliers kindly received their Letters, especially Don Antonio, who being but a little before dismissed, was recalled to join Hands with Donna Catharina, and imagined it done by the intercession of the Waiting-Gentlewoman, to whom he thought himself infinitely obliged, and the present he had made her well bestowed; the two Gallants failed not to be there at the time appointed, and in the mean Donna Catharina and her Woman took Coach, leaving Don Alonzo at home, ready to go to Bed; they went to Donna Olivia's House, which seemed to be that of Granatus, where they were received by Flora, Olivia's Maid, who went under the name of her Stepmother; while Donna Catharina was expecting the Arrival of Don Valerio, she sent Dilario with a Letter to Don Alonzo containing these words.  
To Don Alonzo de Castiza.  
SIR,  
MY Lady Donna Catharina, Father's House, with a Resolution to be secretly Married to Don Antonio, notwithstanding your prohibition to the contrary, I conceived it my duty to give you notice thereof, it is your Work to take what course you think fit to prevent it: for my part I have done what lay in me, and I shall not need to fear any reproach from you, since I have sent you timely Notice of her intentions.  
Donna Artimiza.  
Granatus was dispatched away with this Letter, and ordered not to deliver it till half an hour after Nine, which he did. In the mean time Don Valerio failed not to come, precisely at his time, and was directed to his Mistress, who gave him such satisfaction as silenced all his Complaints. Olivia left them together in a Room, where she locked them in; not long after came Don Antonio, according to the time appointed him, and was received by Olivia, who disposed him into a Room, without light, alleging it concerned him, that he were not seen; that he should forbear making any Noise, and that it would not be long ere his Mistress came to him, he promised to obey her in all things, and stayed there so long as that Olivia might shifted herself into clothes suitable to her quality, that done, she went into the Room, and speaking very low, it was no hard matter for her to deceive Don Antonio, and to make him believe he was very much in his Mistress' Favour.  
Leaving these young People thus matched, let us return to Don Alonzo, who received the Letter from the Duenna just as he was getting into Bed; the Old Gentleman was extremely surprised thereat, and going out of doors, attended by Dilario, he went to the Commissary's House, which was hard by; the afflicted man acquainted him what posture things were in; whereupon the Commissary taking some of his People about him, they went to Dilario's house, where, after some knocking, they were let in; they had luckily a Lantern with them, and it did them good Service, for they found the House without any Light, they lighted a Torch, and went into several Rooms, in one whereof finding Don Valerio and Donna Catharina, the Commissary asked them, what they did there? Don Valerio told him he was there with his Wife, which was confirmed by Donna Catharina. Don Alonzo would have run him through; but the Commissary telling him she was not with the Person he imagined, that that Gentleman was DonValerio de Merdea, a Person of great Quality and well known about the Court, Don Alonzo could do no lesle than approve of their Marriage, though 'twere only out of a satisfaction, that she was not fallen into the hands of Don Antonio, whom he hated extremely, for the strange Pranks he had played.  
They went thence unto another Room, which they found locked, and thereupon threatening to break open the Door. Don Antonio opened it within, and comes out telling them that he was there with Donna Catharina his Wife, and that it was with her Consent, he was come into that House to Mary her. Upon that discourse Donna Olivia came out of the Room and said to him, you are deceived, sweet Signior Don Antonio, I am not the Woman you think me, but Donna Olivia de Priolo, who expects from you the Reparation of her Honour; the recovery whereof obliged me to enter into the Service of Donna Catharina, serving her in the Quality of a Waiting-woman. Don Alonzo de Castiza looking on her a little more attentively than he had done, knew her, as also did the fair Lady Donna Catharina; both of them reflecting on the disguises she had run through to retrieve her Honour, very seriously commended her Courage and Contrivances, and as much blamed Don Antonio, who finding himself Convinced, and Condemned of all, ratified once more the promise he had made her. Don Valerio and his Mistress were insured one to the other, and the solemnity of their Marriage ordered to be Eight days after; they proved both very happy in their Wives, of whom they had many Children, who were the Comfort and Felicity of their Parents; but particularly for Don Antonio, when he reflected on the strange Adventures whereby Donna Olivia, engaged him to his Duty, he looked on all as so many Extraordinary Demonstrations of her Affection, towards him, which occasioned his to be Multiplied towards her, besides the kindness he had for her upon the Account of her Ingenuity; for Wit in a Woman is a great inflamer of Love, especially that Woman's Wit which is ever best at a dead lift.   

THE Amorous Miser: A NOVEL.  
AT Sevil in Spain, a Lady, being young, and having lately buried her Husband; resolved to remove into another quarter of the City: and being sumptuous in clothes, and perfectly handsome, did not as many other Widows are wont to do, who, as soon as their Husbands are marched off, dress themselves as fine as Hands can make them, and deriving a little advantage from their Mourning seek out opportunity to show themselves to the Gallants purely out of a Design to get other Husbands. But ours, though young, had had so great Experience, that she resolved to play a game and that no small one.  
There was come into the Fleet from Peru, a Man Born amidst the Mountains of Leon, who had begun his Fortune by the Relation of a Servant to a Merchant of Sevil, and one who, upon his Master's Cost, and some little Trading into the Indies was grown Rich, insomuch that in few Years, he was accounted one of the ablest Merchants that traded to Peru. He makes another Voyage thither, being advanced to a certain public Employment, and having thereby added much to his Wealth, he was returned again to Sevil, in that years' Fleet, where he sold the Commodities he had brought over at double what they had cost him; so fortunate was he in all his Ventures.  
Mercator (so was this lucky Merchant called) was a Person of about fifty years of Age; the most Covetous and wretchedst natured Fellow that ever was. He grudged himself what he eat and drunk, though even below Moderation; nay he many times fasted purposely to spare so much. He had no more Servants than he needed; his whole Train consisted in a Factor, a Lackey, a Moor-Slave, who looked to his Mule, and a Maid to dress his pitiful Commons. He kept his Family so ●…ort in point of Victuals, that it was wondered any one would serve him; his Miserly Disposi●… found the whole City Discourse; another would have been ashamed of it, but he only laughed at it, applauding himself, and making it his whole Business to heap up Wealth, whereof he had abundance.  
Corrina (so was this Designess called) hearing this account of him, began to consider, and weigh all the Circumstances, and after she had a little reflected thereon, she concluded, that he might be made an excellent Cully, whom if she could smite, as she expected, her Condition would be better than ever it had been. Mercator lived without the City, in a little Tenement he had purchased of one who owed him some Money, which he knew not well how to get in otherwise; for he was naturally so perfect a Slave to his Profit, that he little minded his Pleasures. So that he got that Tenement, with a neat House on it, very cheap, and in Satisfaction for his dept; it stood near St. Bernard's Monastery, in the midst of a pleasant Valley. He lived there to spare the Rent of a House in the City; he had so fortified it, that no Thiefs, either by Day or Night, could make any breach into it; all the Doors were of extraordinary thickness, the Windows had Bars and Grates, the Walls very high and very strong. He had secured the place within with many Fire-Arms, which he always kept Charged, and many Halberds and Partisans which were disposed of near the Gate. He was forced to take one Person more into his Retinue, to wit, a Fellow to order his Garden, and to make the best Advantage he could of it, a married Man, who should carry the Fruits and other things to the Market to make the best of them, so vigilant was his Avarice. His Treasure was disposed into a secret place behind his Bed where he lay himself, in strong Iron-Chests; and every Night before he went to Bed, he, like an overdoing Constable, searched all the Rooms in the House. Thus did this wretched Fellow live, though he had no Children to succeed him, for he had never been married, nor intended to be, though very Advantageous Matches were daily proffered him.  
Corrina had laid her Design to bring in this Covetous Merchant into the Noose, and to effect it, she communicated it to a Person who was excellent at such things; this Man had played some pranks at Madrid, which had occasioned his Removal thence to Cadiz, and his Achievements there, his departure thence to Sevil, where he went lurking up and down, and spending some Money, which it cost him more hazard than pains to get. He was one of the most Accomplished Men in point of Thievery of his time, but very fearful of falling into the hands of Justice, lest there might rise up in Judgement against him some of his former Offences; which were such as had preferred him to the Galleys. This Person (whose Name was Vasquez,) Corrina took to assist her in the compassing her Design. Having given him Instructions what he was to do, and told him, that Mercator returned not to his House, till about Sunset, as he was wont to do, they both passed by Mercator's Garden, he on a Mule, and she on a good Horse. She had put off her Mourning, and put on another Dress, with a Hat and Feather, as the Sevil Ladies are wont to go, when they are in the Country.  
They passed by the Garden, just as the Gardener was opening the Door. Vasquez, coming up to him, Friend, said he, here is a Lady would not willingly go into the City to day. If you will afford her entertainment this Night, I will satisfy you to your own Desires; besides that you will do us an extraordinary Kindness, for you will thereby prevent a great Misfortune, which she cannot otherwise avoid. The Gardener, who was afraid of his Master's Displeasure, told him that he durst not be so bold, as to receive any Person into his House, without his Knowledge, though he had not expressly forbid him the doing of any such thing. But Vasquez, who knew the Virtue and Power of many, took a considerable Sum out of his Pocket, and giving it to the Gardener, here, Friend, (said he) take this in earnest of more. The Gardener's Wife longing to know what Business they might have with her Husband, comes up to them, and seeing the proffers were made him, undertook to lodge the Gentlewoman in her own Room, making it appear to her Husband, that their Master should never come to the Knowledge of it, in regard their Houses were at a good distance one from the other, and that they should not be so unhappy, being certain, that that Night he would not search the whole House, as many times a toy took him in the Head to do.  
In short the Wife's Arguments prevailed, so that the Gardener was content the Gentlewoman should Lodge secretly that Night at his House, upon the receipt of six Royals which Vasquez gave him as an earnest of a greater Sum promised him. He thereupon took Corrina off the Horse, and brought her into the Garden, where she took leave of Vasquez, who had already received the Orders whereof we shall give an account hereafter.  
Being come into the Gardener's Room, she took off what covered her Face, and astonished the Gardener and his Wife at the sight of her Beauty, though she seemed to be very Melancholy, as if some great Misfortune had happened to her, to wit, that which she had ready to relate to Mercator, in Case she might come to Discourse with him. The Sun was hardly set, but he came into the Garden: The Negro entering a little before to have the Door opened, which he himself locked on the inside, and carried the Key along with him. He chanced to be that Night a little more weary than ordinary, which occasioned his going to Bed very betimes, after he had eaten a piece of Bread, and some of his own Garden-Fruits, and washed them down with a Glass of Spring-Water. He only visited that part of the House where he lodged himself, and came not down to the Gardeners, which never escaped his privy-search, when he thought of. His Family, who kept more Fasting-days in the Year than the Church herself had appointed, Supped that Night, in Imitation of the Master very soberly.  
Mercator gets up the next Morning betimes, and gives the Slave Money, to go to the Market, while, he went about his Affairs in the City, with order to have Dinner ready against his return. Corrina was at a loss how to compass her Design, finding things fell not out according to her Expectation: But still waiting the opportunity, she told her Entertainers that she was extremely troubled at her Uncle's stay (so she called Vasquez) and that all her sadness proceeded thence. The Gardener's Wife, who was a good hearty Woman, found her all the Diversion she could.  
Mercator comes home at Noon, with an Intention to Dine in his Garden, and before he sat down, he would needs take a turn about it, to see if any thing were wanting; and he observed that there wanted some pieces of Wood for the more convenient watering of the several knots. As he was going to the Gardeners to see if he had any fit for that purpose, the Wife perceiving him coming, very hastily shuffled Corrina into a little back Room, where she was wont to lie: But in regard it could not be done so suddenly, but that Mercator coming in might hear the ruffling of the Silks, and see Corrina's shadow, he steps into the Room where she was retired, and having found her, he led her out by the Hand and bringing her out to the Light, he found her so Beautiful, that he was astonished thereat. The Gardener's Wife wondered, that her Master, instead of chiding her, as she expected, only asked her who the Lady was; she answered, that the Night before, passing by their door with an Ancient Gentleman, who seemed as sad as herself, they had very earnestly entreated she might be lodged there but that Night, to avoid a great Misfortune, which would have happened to them, if they had gone any further.  
While the Gardener's Wife was giving Mercator this account, he very attentively considered the strange Lady, who seemed to be extremely troubled in mind, which added to the attractions of her Beauty. Mercator was so taken with her, that discharging his unsociable and Covetous Humour, he told the Gardener's Wife that she had done very well, in entertaining that Lady, though contrary to his Orders, which in such a Case were not to be observed, where Compassion and Charity pled for the relief of those that are in Trouble. This Lady, (said he) deserves a better reception than she hath sound in your poor Lodgings, I heartily proffer her my House, if she will but honour it with her presence. Corrina thanked him very civilly for his obliging proffers, and entreated him to allow her the privacy of some other Lodging, for the little time she had to stay there, in regard she expected an Uncle of hers to come and fetch her away that Night.  
Mercator, who began to be inflamed, was sorry to hear that her stay at his House would be so short, but after a little pause, he told her, that though it were but for an hour, she would infinitely oblige him, in the acceptation of the proffer he made her with so much Affection. She, who expected that lieu all the while, told him, that, to make some return to so great Civilities, she was ready to wait on him: with that she went to Mercator's Apartment, whither he led her by the Hand, to the great satisfaction of the Gardener's Wife, who extremely wondered to see her Master, contrary to his Custom, of a Civil and Obliging Humour; as she passed through the Rooms, she took particular notice of all things; for though Mercator, were Naturally a very covetous Person; yet, as to the Furniture of his House, he was otherwise, he had very rich Tapstery, Chairs suitable thereto, and Cabinets of Ivory, and Ebony; nay indeed many things brought out of the Indies, which though they cost him not much there, are here of very great price, he immediately commanded his Slave to prepare an excellent Dinner, an Employment he undertook with great alacrity, as knowing he might reap some advantage of that extraordinary Liberality of his Master. Corrina dined with him, who treated her still with the best the Table afforded, with importunate Excuses that there were no better for her.  
As soon as they had dined, he conducted her into a Chamber, set forth with a great number of curious Pictures, and also a sumptuous Bed of China-Work, where he entreated her to repose herself on it, a Custom the Spaniards have in Summer, as soon as they have dined, by reason of the Sultriness of the Country. He entreated her also to give her disquiet some Remission, out of an Assurance; that she should be as safe in his House as in any Sanctuary, and that she should not want any thing which lay in his Power. She again returned him her most affectionate thanks, and complying with his Desires, she stayed alone in the Room, which was the same where Mercator took his repose every day. He went into another, where he laid himself down, much troubled and disquieted, as being fallen deeply in Love with his fair Guest, and not knowing by what means he might induce her to favour him in what he desired of her, which if he could effect, he concluded himself the happiest Man in the World. Before he acquainted her with his Design, he was Desirous to know the Cause, and what might occasion her stopping at his Garden, and thereby find whether there were any Obstruction that might oppose his Desires to serve her. To be satisfied in this, it was requisite he stayed till she awoke; but she slept not at all, for she spent the time in considering, what answer she should make him, when he came to question her.  
Mercator thinking it now high time to speak to her, in order to the Satisfaction of his Curiosity, goes into her Chamber, telling her it was a close day, and that he was afraid she might over-sleep herself, and craving her Pardon that he had taken the Boldness to give her that Caution. She thanked him for the Tenderness he had for her Health, and assured him, that she had not refreshed herself at all, the trouble she was in not permitting her to take any rest. He begged of her that she would no longer smother the Cause of her Disquiet, and renewed the proffers he had made to serve her to the utmost of his Power. Having returned him her thanks, and thinking it now time to make some Progress in her Design, she gave him this Relation of her Adventures.  
Granada, one of the most Famous and Eminent Cities of Spain, is the place of my Birth; my Parents (there's no Necessity I should Name them) are of the most Ancient and most Noble Families of any in all the Mountains of old Casteel, and the whole Issue of their Matrimony was only a Brother of mine and myself. My Brother spent the Youthful part of his Age in Courting Ladies, and, among other young Persons like himself, he played some mad pranks of Youth, which obliged him, for fear of falling into the Hands of Justice, to absent himself from Granada; and for my part, I made it my only Business to serve and humour those who had brought me into the World. I spent whole days at my Needle, not taking Example from my Companions, who only minded their Divertisements; nay, I was so Ignorant what love meant, that I laughed at what ever related thereto, and thought those, who spent their time in Courtships and entertaining those they called their Gallants, little better than so many distracted Persons.  
But love it seems would punish this contempt of mine, and you shall see how he did it. My Father and Mother being one day gone to visit a Friend of theirs in the Country, who had buried his Wife not long before, I heard in the Street the clashing of Swords, as if some People had been fight; and looked out at the Window to see what might be the matter. I had never been guilty of such a Curiosity before, and had it been Heaven's Pleasure I might have shunned it then, I should not now be telling you my Misfortunes, which are such, that I shall never think on them without Tears. I there saw, to my sorrow, three Men with their Swords drawn, fight against one, who defended himself with so great Courage, that he not only made his party good along time against so many Enemies, but also hurt two of them in the Head, he himself having received only a slight Wound. These three Hectors finding themselves so worsted by one Person, resolved to do their utmost to take away his Life; so that exasperated by their Wounds, they pressed upon him so much, that he was forced to retreat within our Gates where they gave him two several thrusts into the Breast, upon which he fell, and was left for dead. Moved with Compassion to see so proper a young Man so disadvantageously engaged, I came down to the Gate, calling my Maids about me, to see what might be done for him. (Our House being in a lone-Street) for those who were come upon the noise we made, were so few, and those unarmed, that they were not able to part them. We locked the Doors and brought him in, and a Chirurgeon was immediately sent for. His Wounds were so great, that we thought fit to dispose him into a Bed, in a Ground-Room, where my Brother was wont to lie.  
The young Man hanked me very civilly for the Favour he received from me; but alas! that good Office began with Compassion, but ended in Love. The Chirurgeon viewed his Wounds, but could not presently give any certain Judgement of them, though he whispered me in the Ear, that he thought they might cost him his Life. That account of him struck me to the Heart, for having seen him sight so gallantly, I must needs acknowledge, that I had even then conceived an Inclination for him. But his kind Expression afterwards, and his thanking me so genteel for the Obligations he said I had put upon him, raised it into a perfect Love. My Father and Mother returned from their visit, and, ere they were got to our House, were told by one of the Neighbours, a Person of some Quality, what had happened in their Absence, and how that I had put a period to a Quarrel, by entertaining the wounded Party into their House, out of Compassion and a Fear that he might be killed; whereat they were well satisfied, and commended the Charitable Office I had done in such an Extremity; for they were Persons who gladly embraced any opportunity to Exercise their Charity. They visited the wounded, encouraged him to take Heart, assuring him he should want nothing, their House could afford, and acknowledged it well done by me, that I had so rescued him; upon which I took Occasion to spend most of my time in waiting on him; him, I say, who is the Cause of all the Troubles and Afflictions which lie so heavy upon me. At the second dressing, the Chirurgeon assured us that his Wounds were not Mortal; which caused much Joy in our House, particularly to me, who became every day more and more passionately in Love with him. As often as I could get out of my Father and Mother's sight, I went to pass away the time in his Chamber, for which Kindness he made me extraordinary Acknowledgements.  
This young Cavalier was Born at Barcelona, and one of the most Eminent in that City. His Business at Granada was to prosecute a Lawsuit, against a very powerful Person, who finding but little Justice of his side, that the Cause was of great Importance, and that notwithstanding the Favour he had in Court, the Judges must pass Sentence against him, and would put a period to the Suit by a shorter cut, and rid himself of his Adversary, by Employing three Men to Murder him, who were his own menial Servants. A Month slipped away, ●…ere Calphorus (so was the wounded Person named) got out of his Bed having all that time been attended with as much Care as might be. The second day after his getting up, he had the opportunity to see me, for my Mother was gone abroad upon a visit, wherein I accompanied her not, because I had a greater mind to be alone with my young Gallant. He discovered himself to me so opportunely, and gave me such sensible Assurances of his Affection that it raised a no lesle, in me towards him, insomuch that there past mutual Promises of Fidelity between us. I knew nothing all this time that my Father was upon a treaty of Marriage between me and a Gentleman of Granada, who was infinitely Desirous to enter into our Alliance, while I was very well satisfied, with the choice I had made myself. Calphorus, coming to hear of the other's Pretensions to me, was not a little troubled at it; but the only remedy was Patience, in regard he would make no Discovery of his Estate, till his Law Suit were ended, which he hoped would be in a short time, and I in the mean time kept my Father in play with Persuasions, that he would not be overhasty in concluding my Marriage with the Granadine.  
Calphorus, being perfectly cured, and requiting the Kindness and Noble Entertainment he had received at our House, with many considerable presents, returned to his own quarters, to bring his Business to a final end. For my part, my Troubles increased more and more upon me; for my Father, never giving me any notice of it, as if I had been a Person not at all concerned, concluded the Contract with the Granadine, and passed his Word he should have me; which when I came to understand, I was so surprised, that I minded not what I did. This new Servant of mine, who expected ere long to be my Master came to give me a visit: But I soon satisfied him, that he had reckoned without his Hostess, for whereas he had flattered himself into a foolish Imagination that he should have found the kindest Reception in the World from me, he met with such a Repulse, as he himself concluded, must rather proceed from the Aversion, than any Indifference I had for him. In a word, being not one of Fortune's Favourites, who promise themselves the Attainment of things impossible, he easily discovered, that my Refusal was the effect of some other Cause, than the Modesty, which a young Maid ought at least to pretend, upon such Occasions: and knowing withal that the wounded Calphorus had lodged sometime in our House, he presumed, that my disdain towards him was occasioned by the Love I had for the other, and thence inferred, that having not been so happy as to prevent him in the Acquisition of my Favour, he had, at best, but a hazardous aftergame to recover it. The Jealousy he conceived upon this Presumption, obliged him to make trial of all the ways he could imagine, to be assured of it, so as that he might not do any thing, that should cause him afterwards to repent of.  
I was in an extraordinary Confusion during these overtures; I acquainted Calphorus with my Condition; he came to see me that very Night, and we agreed, the next, to leave my Father's House, and to go to some of his Relations, where we might be secretly Married. The expected hour being come (unhappy hour to me, considering the Misfortunes I have run through since!) as my Dearest and I were going out of the House and crossing into another Street, my Jealous Servant (who spent the Nights to be assured of his Suspicion, which he now found to be too true) presently knew us, and, attended by two Servants, he set upon Calphorus, who never thought of any such surprise; so that ere he had the time to draw his Sword, he received three Mortal Wounds, and fell down dead, without uttering one Word. The little noise which the Murderers had made, occasioned the Neighbours to come out with Lights, upon the appearance whereof they ran away, fearing they might be discovered. By this time there was a great uproar at my Father's, that I could not be found, while I was in a manner dead, to see my Dearest lying Breathless at my Feet. Having recovered myself, I considered it was to little Purpose for me to stay in the Street, after such an Accident, so that gathering up my clothes, I hasted away as fast as I could, to a Friend's House of my Father's, an aged Person and very Poor, to whom I told what had happened to me, and how much it concerned me not to stay any longer at Granada. Whereupon taking a Horse, he set me on him, and brought me to the next Village, where we took up another for him, and thence we are come hither, to avoid my Father, who accompanied by Officers, makes a search after me, as I have understood by the way. For that Reason I thought it not safe, that we should go into Sevil as soon as we came hither, but that it was better I concealed myself in some place near it. It was the Pleasure of Fortune to direct me to this Habitation of yours, into which, upon extraordinary entreaties your Gardener ventured to receive me for this last Night.  
Thus Sir, have you the story of a wretched Maid, (if there were ever any such) whose only Comfort now is in the good Entertainment you are pleased to afford her. May Heaven requite your Charity, since there cannot be a greater than to relieve such as are afflicted and persecuted to that extremity as I am.  
The Conclusion of this dismal story, which Corrina had had the time to invent and study so well, was a shower of Crocodile-Tears, which raised such a Compassion in Mercator, that he could not forbear them himself. The cunning Gipsy, who notwithstanding her Counterfeit-Tears, observed all the Actions of Mercator, perceived that he gave Credit to her feigned story, and that love began to enter at that breach which Compassion had made in his Heart. This encouraged Corrina to prosecute her Impostor, being now in a manner Confident to bring it to some effect. They continued a good while together, she weeping as if she had done it for a Wager, and he endeavouring all that he could do to Comfort her: but that Comfort came not up to the height of offering her the Remedy she could have wished, for he had not yet overcome his Covetous Humour.  
Having with great Attention considered the great Beauty of Corrina, her Affliction, and strange Adventures, and that his Happiness was as it were fallen into his Mouth, he inferred that Heaven, as a signal Addition to his former Happiness, had directed her to his House. This was the first Love that had ever moved Mercator's Heart, and, in all sorts of Persons that first Passion ever acts violently. Is Mercator fallen in Love? He must needs then be Liberal. Hath he entertained Corrina into his House? That Kindness will be the dearest to him that ever he expressed. O Love! O insinuating Passion, who dost bewitch the World, who dost ruin and beset Men! what Metamorphoses in them dost thou not Operate? What Dispositions dost thou not change? What Resolutions dost thou not dispense with? What Felicities dost thou not disturb? And what Hearts is it not in thy power to soften? That of this insatiable Miser, which had cast off all sense of Humanity towards his nearest Relations, Love hath changed; so that he hath transformed a Covetous and Sordid Person into a Liberal and Magnificent. He is extremely taken with Corrina; he is passionately in Love with her; she will ere long be Mistress of his Heart and Wealth. She said many things in her Relation, which might have betrayed her, had not the Affection, wherewith Mercator harkened to her, closed both his Eyes and Ears: Nay, he was so prepossessed with his Passion that he would have believed many other things from her, though they had been more improbable than they were.  
The effect of this sad Narration of Corrina, was, that Mercator proffered her all the Favour and Assistance she could expect from him, his Estate, Life, Heart and Soul, giving her the Title of Absolute Mistress of all he was possessed of, further entreating her, of all Love to give over thinking of her Misfortunes, and assure herself that she was in a House where she might command, and that whatever she desired, her orders should be obeyed, as far as it lay in his Power; Corrina very kindly thanked him for so many generous proffers, concluding her Compliment with a fresh shower of Tears, a kind of Tempest she could raise, whenever she either pleased, or had occasion.  
With this Artifice, she became Mistress of Mercator, and all he had, so as that she might dispose of him and it, as she pleased; her Beauty had given him a kind of Itch, and he was mighty desirous to try whether she would be as willing to Cure him of it; but he knew not well how to acquaint her with his indisposition; he resolved at last, in case he could do no good upon her by his submissions and presents, to use the last Remedy, which was to Mary her. This is a bait that many times takes the shiest of that deluded Sex; but when they are so taken, he that does it is commonly snapped himself; for Corrina had no other design than to examine the Chests of the greedy Merchant, and that she would not be any way engaged till she were secure of her prize; for she had heard that many of her calling had been shown slippery Tricks, which made her extremely Distrustful.  
Mercator stayed all that day in his Garden, and neglected his business in the City; but the next Morning betimes, leaving his guest asleep, he takes his Mule, and goes about his Ordinary occasions, having charged the Gardener's Wife, to get a good Breakfast for the Lady, as soon as she were awake, and to have a care of the House; he locked the Chamber Door where his Money was, and as he went out, charged the Gardener not to suffer any to come into his Garden, but the Old man who had brought Artemiza thither, for that was the name the dissembling Corrina went by.  
That done he went about his Business, attended by the little Negro, whom he gave Money to Buy Provisions for a good Dinner. Corrina got up and the Gardeners Wife punctually obeyed the Orders she had received from her Master, treating her the best she could, out of this respect, that all the Domestics made their advantage of those magnificences. Corrina comes down into the Garden where she took occasion to commend the Walks, and contrivances of it; for the Gardener kept it in very good order, and well supplied with Herbs, Fruits, and Flowers; finding the Sun beginning to grow hot, she went into the House, where casually meeting with a Lute, on which Mercator's Factor was wont to play, she set it in Tune, and made her entertainment, till such time as Mercator returned from the City, who hearing her at it, was not a little glad to find that perfection in her more than he knew before; perceiving that Mercator harkened to her Music, she joined her Voice to the Instrument, to breed one Maggot more in his Brain than he had already; and so Sung these following Stanza's.  

While on those lovely looks I gaze,  
To see a Wretch pursuing;  
In Raptures of a blessed amaze,  
And pleasing Happy ruin.   

'Tis not for pity that I move,  
His Fate is too aspering;  
Whose Heart, broke with a Load of Love,  
Dyes., Wishing and Admiring.   

But if this Murder you'd forego,  
Your Slave from Death removing;  
Let me your Art of Charming know,  
Or learn you mine of Loving.   

But whether Life or Death betid,  
In Love, 'tis equal Measure;  
The Victor Lives with empty Pride,  
The Vanquished dye with Pleasure.   
She Sung so excellently, that Mercator was ravished at the Melody, and acknowledged that it was not a voice of a Mortal Creature, but an Angel come down from Heaven; he continued his attention a while, imagining she would have begun another Song; but perceiving she laid by the Lute, he comes into the Room, and, transported with joy, how hath this poor Habitation been felicifyed, (said he to her) by your retirement into it, most adorable Artemiza? What happiness did the Hour of your Arrival here, bring me, who never had known any before? What Honour have I received in beholding your transcendent Beauty, and to obscure in you from time to time, a thousand unknown excellencies; which are not discovered at the first sight? This house may, no doubt, enter into Competition with Heaven itself, since such an Angel Honours it with her divine presence; what I say, Madam, is but little, in Comparison of the passion I have for your worth, which were it to be ●…ommended proportionably to the appre●…ension I have of it, I think the most Elo●…uent Persons that ever were, would be at 〈◊〉 loss for expressions suitable to so adorable a ●…ubject.  
You press too hard upon me, Dear Sir, (re●…lies the Counterfeit Artemiza, seeming to ●…lush at those excessive praises) I am not such 〈◊〉 stranger to myself, but that I know it ar●…ues excess in the highest degree to bestow ●…uch extraordinary Commendations, on a ●…erson that deserves so little; had I mistrust●…d your being within hearing, I would have ●…ut off my diversion to another time, since ●…tis not unlikely my voice may seem harsh to you, compared to the excellent ones of this City, which you often hear, unless it be, that generous Natures have an inclination to favour Persons of mean parts, by flattering them by their praises, into an Imagination, that their Edowments are greater than indeed they are. No more Compliments, I beseech you, (replies Mercator, raised up to the highest pitch of ●…esotted Love,) my words come short of my Faith, and I am to assure you withal, Madam, that though I have heard excellent voices in Sevil, (for I must confess there are some such) yet yours is infinitely beyond any of them. Your most humble Servant, Sir, (says Corrina) your Commendations, are infinitely beyond my deserts, and the Honour you do me can do no lesle then raise in me a hearty wish that my poor abilities might find you some further diversion with this Instrument, since you are pleased to acknowledge yourself so much satisfied therewith; but my troubles are so great and pressing, that in what I did, I mended only my own. I must see them at an end, ere you leave this House, (says Mercator to her) and therefore let me entreat you, if you cannot conclude an absolute peace with your afflictions, at least Condescend to a short cessation of Arms.  
These reiterations of your Favours must needs extremely oblige me, (replies Corrina) and consequently force me to a grateful compliance with your Commands, as far as lies in my Power, but I cannot promise it you so fully as I wish, finding the Person who brought me hither, hath forgotten he did it, otherwise he would have found some means to have given me a visit once in three days; let not that create you any trouble, (replies the Amorous Miser) but rather imagine there may be some Cause for his neglect. I have some apprehensions, (said she) that he may be returned to Granada, out of a fear, that, being missed there, he might be questioned as a Complice of my Escape; and this would prove the greatest of my misfortunes, for if he be gone, he hath carried all I had along with him. Never fear it, (says Mercator) for he must have more Compassion than to forsake you in so great an extremity; but though he and all else fail you, assure yourself, I shall not, whereof I cannot give you a greater assurance, than you may derive from this sincere protestation, of my being so passionately your Servant, that I imagine not myself to be the same Person I was before I saw you; this transformation is wholly to be attributed to your Divinity, and thence you may infer the influence you have over me.  
Having so said, Mercator made an absolute discovery of his Love; the cunning Gipsy pretending she understood not his meaning, returned civil answers to the proffers he made her, acknowledging herself extremely obliged to him for his kindness, and that she doubted not of the performance of what he was pleased, out of his own good Nature to promise. By this time Dinner was set on the Table; they both sat down, and the entertainment was very noble, suitable to the Love of the Founder; for where that little Deity comes once to reign, the first Act he makes, is for the banishment of all baseness and avarice.  
Corrina and Vasquez had agreed together, that he should come to her, when he were sure the Old Merchant was abroad, and that he should disguise himself like a Beggar, that he might not be known, nor any suspicion be conceived of him; she had studied several ways to chouse the Miser of some part of his Treasure, but could not fix on any one she thought might prove effectual, the Chamber where it was locked being extremely fortified; she had continued there 3 days ere she had either seen or heard from Vasquez, and during the time, she expressed so great a discontent, as put Mercator to much trouble, in regard it kept him from making those free discoveries of his Love, which he would otherwise have done; in the mean time Corrina, who watched all occasions, cunningly discovered the place where the old Man hid the Keys of his Iron-Chests.  
Mercator went, according to his Custom, into the City, which being observed by Vasquez, he comes to his House in Beggars weeds, as they had agreed together, with two Crutches; being got under the Window, at which Corrina was looking out, he Begged an Alms of her; she threw him down something, and asked him whence he came, whereto Vasquez answering that he was of Granada, she seemed to be extremely glad, and thereupon turning to the Gardeners Wife, let us go down a little into the Garden, (said she to her) this poor fellow is come out of my Country, I would fain have some discourse with him, to know what News he hath brought thence; the poor Woman suspecting nothing, made no difficulty to let him into the Garden. Corrina asked him how long it was since he had left Granada, whereto he answering about nine or ten days, she continued her questions so long, that the Gardener's Wife weary of their discourse, and having something else to do, left them. Being rid of her, they considered what was to be put in execution the Night following, and agreed upon the course they were to take, to possess themselves of Mercator's Treasure.  
That done, Vasquez departed, and Corrina went up to her Chamber, telling the Gardener's Wife, she had understood so much from that poor Fellow, concerning her Affairs, that it would not be long ere she returned into her Country. The Gardener's Wife, and Maid were little pleased to hear that News, as fearing their Master would, upon her departure, reassume his niggardly Humour, and keep as miserable a House as he had done before, nay perhaps put himself and all the Servants to a greater penance in their Diet, to get up what had been squandered away, during her abode there.  
Mercator being come home found Corrina that Night more cheerful than at any time before; which gave him the Confidence to acquaint her more freely with his Love then he had done, and to assure her of the disquiet he was in upon her Account. Corrina seemed not to take it amiss, nay by a greater Familiarity than she had expressed towards him before, she raised in him some hopes of seeing his desires satisfied. Whence the Old Dotard began to presume, that the Fort would in a short time be taken, upon reasonable terms; upon this presumption, he bestowed on her a Ring, which he had purposely bought for her, wherein was a Diamond worth about an Hundred Crowns, set about with little Rubies; the Lady gave him many thanks for so noble a present, and in requital promised him a Lesson on the Lute, to which she Sung some new Airs, though she quarrelled at the dulness of the Instrument. Mercator promised her a better the next day; they parted for that time, but with differrent thoughts, Mercator desirous to obtain those Favours he expected from Corrina, and to oblige her thereto by presents, which overcome the greatest difficulties; and Corrina contriving how to compass the Robbery she intended.  
The next day, Vasquez (a Person of great experience in such designs) got some others of the same profession to carry on the Work; and having observed Mercator going into his House, they stayed till he were gone to Bed, which was somewhat late; for Corrina, who held a Correspondence with them, had purposely kept him up. About midnight, Vasquez and his Comrades brought a thing that had the Figure of a Man, stuffed with Straw, having about him a Cloak, which cast over his Shoulder, covered his Face, and pitched over against the principal Window towards the Garden, which was that part of the House where Mercator Lodged, and left it there fastened to a S●…ake they had thrust into the Ground. The Night was somewhat dark, and so more proper for their Design. Having placed that Figure, as I told you, they knocked at the Door so loud that it might have been heard from one end of the Garden to the other. Mercator awakened thereby leaps out of 〈◊〉 Bed, it being so strange to him to hear such knocking at his Garden Door, at such an unseasonable time, as being a thing had never happened to him before; he called up his Servant and bid him see who knocked at the Door; the Servant went out between sleeping and waking to see what the matter was, calling as loud as he could, who knocks there? but no Body answering, and he not minding the Figure that stood in the Garden, told his Master that there was not any body.  
Mercator upon that got into Bed again and composed himself to rest, but it was soon Interrupted, for Vasquez knocked more violently than he had done before, which astonished him the more, and obliged him to send down his Man a second time, to see what the matter was. Bringing his Master the same Account he had done before, he got up himself, puts his Cloak about him, and calls at the Window, Who knocks at my Door thus unseasonably? Where to no answer being made, he grew the more enraged, but looking a little more earnestly about the House than his man had done, he perceived the Figure planted before his Windows. Mercator was extremely afraid, at the sight of a Person, who, as he thought, knocked at his door, yet made him no answer, and assuming more, Courage than he was naturally Master of, he said to him very loud: 'Tis basely done of you, Sir, to abuse me thus, you shall find I am not a person to suffer it; pray keep on your way, and disturb not my rest any more if you think not you're invulnerable, and that a brace of good Bullets will make no impression in your enchanted Skin.  
Having made that bravado, he shut to the Window and went to Bed; but he was hardly got warm in it, ere they began to knock more violently than they had done before; which obliged him to take a firelock, which he always kept ready charged for the security of his Money. Opening the Window, he found him still in the same posture, who would not have stirred out of it, had he not been forced out of it by some other means. What obstinacy of Impudence is it in you (said he to him, very much incensed) to Authorise a Mischief, you are nothing the better for, in thus disturbing my Rest? 'Tis impardonable, and deserves an Exemplary Chastisement; be gone immediately from my Door, or I shall send you going the next way. Whereupon, cocking the firelock, and aiming at him, and the other never stirring, as it were out of a Presumption, that he believing he had not any Fire-Arms, whereby he might make good his Threats, he gave him notice the third time, that he would not oblige him to offer a Violence which he was very unwilling to do. At last perceiving he minded not any thing, he said, but as it were defied him, he resolved to give Fire, not only to fright him, but if he could, to hurt him. He discharged off his Piece and shot the Figure, which fell to the Ground; upon which Vasquez, who was not far off, cries out with a doleful tone, O God I am killed, and immediately he and his Comrades made a great noise at the sight of a Man so unfortunately Murdered.  
Mercator was extremely troubled at what he had done, it being observed, that Covetous Persons are for the most part Cowardly, and very much fear whatever may Occasion their Losses. He shut the Window, and in a great fright awaking Corrina (who had greater things to mind than Sleeping) told her what he had done. She seemed to be extremely troubled at it, and much blamed him, that he had executed so cruel a Resolution. For since he knew himself to be safe enough in his own House, he might have suffered them to knock at his Door, till they had been weary; that he had better have endured that Noise, and lost a little of his Rest, than be in the Trouble he was in, to be the Occasion of a Man's Death. She added several other Reasons, which so confounded poor Mercator, that he knew not what to do. She advised him for his safety, to go immediately and take Refuge in the Monastery of St. Bernard, it being certain, that if the Dead Person were found there the next Morning, he would be carried to Prison, as being Murdered so near his House.  
Mercator was so perplexed, that he wished he had never been born; and it is to be imagined, that if Corrina had not been very highly concerned to Dissemble upon this Occasion, she would have died with laughing. He raised up all his People, and told them what had happened, and all blamed him, for his being so forward to commit such an Action, which made the poor old Dotard almost mad. He imagined himself already apprehended, his Money carried away, and but a small matter between him and Hanging, at least if he were obliged by Tortures to Acknowledge his Crime, never considering that it was pardonable for one Man to kill another in his own Defence. At last he resolved to go to Saint Bernard's Monastery; but knew not how to dispose of his Money. He thought it no Prudence to leave it at the Discretion of his Servants; to carry it to a Friend's House (in case he had any, for Persons of his Humour have very few) he had not time. In this Distraction he desired Corrina to advice him; she seeming very much troubled, and no lesle fearful than he, pretended she could not give him any; but after a little pause she gave him that Advice, which she had prepared long before, and he followed it. She asked him what Money he might have in the House? He ingeniously confessed that he had about four thousand Crowns in Gold, and somewhat better than half the said Sum in Silver.  
I tell you what I would do, were I in your Case, (says the cunning Gipsy) (since it cannot be carried to a Friend's House without being seen) I would bury it in the Garden, in some place, where you may afterwards find it, by some mark you shall set to that purpose. This you must do yourself, so as that your very Servants may not know any thing of it, lest they be tempted to prove false to you; for the times are such now, that a Man must have a Care whom he trusts. I would assist you herein, and keep your Counsel, were it not that I am afraid, when the search comes to be made, and I be left here, I shall be the first taken; and I would be loath to run myself into that hazard, having but just escaped those I have acquainted you with. In the midst of his Affliction, Mercator was troubled to perceive by his Guest's Discourse, the Disturbance she was in upon his Account; and what struck him most to the Heart, was, that he saw himself upon the point of losing her. This Consideration forced from him not only Tears, but also bitter Exclamations, against the Malicious Crossness of his Fortune. Corrina desired him to be of good Courage, persuading him to do as she advised him, and hope the best. So that having commanded all his Servants to go to their several Chambers, and not to stir thence, he and Corrina, whom only he durst trust, went to the place where the Money was. It lay in a huge Chest, covered all over with Iron-Bars, and the Keys were so extraordinary, that it was impossible to Counterfeit them, or to get a piece thence by any other wile than what was invented by our subtle Ferret.  
They first took out all the Silver, and then put the Gold into a little Box, and, having brought all into the Garden, they made two holes, at some distance one from the other, in one whereof they put the Silver, and in the other the Gold, setting a mark that they might find the place again. Mercator took along with him two hundred Crowns in Gold, and gave Corrina fifty, to shifted for herself, till the Business were over.  
That done, they went up into the House, whence they might see several Persons walking with a Light; 'twas Vasquez and his Comrades, who represented the Magistrate, which Corrina showing him, advised him to make all the hast he could to Saint Bernard's. To do that, they got over the Garden-Wall, as being afraid to open the Door, for they perceived the Actors of this Comedy kept a Watch there, with such Authority, as if they had been really the Officers of Justice. All Mercator's Family followed him over the Wall, fearing they might come into Trouble for their Master's Fault. Mercator and his Mistress lurked somewhere there abouts, till it was day, that they might have the Church-Door open, to get into the Monastery. Vasquez was hard by, to see what became of Mercator, and his People. Finding he had left his House, and got into the Monastery with Corrina, he went about an hour after Sunrising to Saint Bernard's in the Habit of a Secular Priest, that he might the better speak to Corrina. She told him how things stood, and how they had buried the Money in the Garden, and that it was all in Silver, intending to reserve all the Gold for herself.  
About Midnight, Vasquez and one of his Comrades went along with Corrina, disguized in Man's clothes to the Garden. They helped her over first, to go and see whether there might be any Body in the House, but all were vanished as if the House had been visited. She thereupon called Vasquez and his Companions, and, having taken up the Money, they carried it away, and took up their Quarters at one of the farthest Inns of the Suburbs. Having been merry a while, and drunk their own Healths, and to the good Success of their future Designs, they went all to Bed, the two Men together, and Corrina by herself. As soon as she found they were asleep, she puts on the same Habit, and returns to the Garden. Where, being come, she took up the little Box of Gold, and, without any disaster, got safe to the Inn before her Companions awaked.  
The next day, having divided the Silver, whereof she and Vasquez had the best part, and sowed up the Gold in her clothes, she left Sevil, taking Vasquez along with her, who, finding what Advantages he might make of her Company, resolved to run Fortunes with her. They took their way towards Madrid, to which place they will not be long a going, and now let us see what is become of Mercator, whom we lest in Saint Bernard's Monastery.  
Having continued there four days after Corrina's departure from him, he knew not what to think of her that she came not again, as she had promised. He addressed himself to one of the Monks, who had great Acquaintances in the City, and entreated him to inquire, what Proceedings there might be against him, upon the Murder he had committed. The Religious Man promised him an account of it; but having enquired at those places where he thought he might most probably hear, but no body could give him any Satisfaction. He thereupon told Mercator, that he might safely go abroad, and needed not to fear any thing. He went out one Night to a Friends of his, whom he acquainted with all that had passed, as also the great perplexity he was in, desiring him to make a more particular enquiry into the Business, than he thought the Religious Man had done. He did so, and gave him the same Account as the other. Yet would not that satisfy him, but he must Desire his Friend to go to his House, whereof he gave him the Mistriss-Key. At his Request he went, and found it without any Body in it, and his Mule being Dead for want of Meat, and Attendance. His Friend returned to him with this News, and advised him to come out of the Monastery, and go home, and thence about the City, as he was wont to do.  
The Death of his Mule troubled him not much, so glad was he to find himself once more at Liberty: The only thing gave him any Disquiet, was, that his Artemiza (under which Name Corrina went) came not to see him. But he imagined the Occasion of it might be, that being a young Maid, she had sheltered herself somewhere, to keep out of the hands of Justice, or that perhaps she might have been met with by her Father, who, as she had told him, sought after her. He went to his House, whither, soon after, came the Gardener and his Wife, and his other Servants. He goes into the Garden, and, notwithstanding all the Fear and Distraction he had been in, remembered the place where he had hid his Money, and was not a little glad to find the Mark where he had set it; so that before he went to Bed, he resolved to secure his Treasure in its former Garrison. As soon as it was dark, he takes the Gardener with him, and a Lantern and Candle, and goes first to the place, where the Silver was, and bids him dig. He did so, but there was nothing to be found, whereat, Mercator was extremely surprised. He went thence to the place where they had laid the Gold, and there they found as little, only Corrina knew what was become of all. He walked several turns about the Garden, with much Vexation, imagining the marks might be misplaced; but what in looking after the marks, and what in digging, the Night slipped away, so that at last despairing to find any thing that Night, he behaved himself like a Person distracted. The Gardener knew not what he looked for, nor for what Reason he had brought him thither. The poor Man resolved to have a little Patience till the next Morning, being still in some hopes to find what he had hidden.  
He went to Bed, or rather to spend the Night in insufferrable Torments; but as soon as it began to dawn, he got up, and having called up the Gardener, they returned to the work they had been at the Night before. Having digged again at those places, where he was Confident he had laid the Money, all they could find was, that there had been two holes made there before, and that Money or something else had been hidden there, but all was removed. This Assurance made him run stark mad, throwing himself on the Ground, running his Head against the Wall, and doing such things as raised a Compassion in his Servants, who thence concluded that he had lost his Money, and suspected the feigned Artemiza, to have robbed him, by the Orders he gave them to search after her all over the City. But she was far enough out of his reach, and had so well secured his Money, that it was not likely it would come into his Chests any more. He kept his Bed a good while, out of a pure Madness, that he had so soon lost, what had cost him many Years Trouble, and Pains to get together. The Robbery was soon divulged all over the City; some, who knew not his Humour, pitied his Misfortune, but such as had Experience of his insatiable Avarice, were not a little pleased to find him so justly punished.   

THE Pretended Alchemist: A NOVEL.  
AS soon as Corrina had done her Work at Mercator's, and had made a broken Merchant of one, who was accounted the Wealthiest about Sevil, she thought it not Prudence to make any long stay, for fear of falling into the Hands of Justice, whose Officer's would be abroad, upon the Solicitations of the Party robbed. She was gone far enough out of the way, ere he was sensible of his loss; for the next Night after they had taken away the Money, she and Vasquez hired two Mules, upon which they came to Carmona, which lies about half a days Journey from Sevil. They had taken up two places in the Madrid-Coach, which was to pass through that City, and take them up as it went. They alighted, at Carmona, at one of the best Inns, where Corrina, keeping out of sight, was resolved to expect the Coach, considering with herself, what she might come to in time, seeing, she was now already Mistress of four thousand Crowns in Gold, in good double Pistols and Quadruples, which was all that penurious Merchant had gotten together, during his whole Life, with much pains taking, and many a hazardous Venture into the most remote Climates. And herein, you may behold, the exemplary punishment, which many times happens to those Miserable Wretches, who become the Slaves of their own Wealth. And what infinitely adds to their Misfortune, is, that People are more apt to congratulate than bemoan it: For how can they expect that others should entertain any Kindness for them, when they themselves have not any but for what they lay up in their Chests?  
The Coach which our Fortunate Adventurers expected to carry them to Madrid, came at its usual time to Carmona. There were in it already six Persons, a Gentleman, and his Lady, a Priest, two University-Scholars, and a Servant belonging to the Priest, a young Lad about fifteen Years of Age. They all knew, that there were two Persons to be taken in at Carmona, who had paid some what extraordinary for the best Places: They accordingly Resigned them, as soon as they perceived their coming towards the Coach: But Vasquez, who was a very Civil, and Obliging Person, would needs recommend his interest in the place to the Gentleman's Lady, whom he seated on the lift side of Corrina, and sat himself in the forepart of the Coach with her Husband.  
All being placed to their Content, they left Carmona on the Monday Morning, it being in September, when most Fruits are ripe. All thought it a great happiness, that they had met so good Company; but Corrina, and Vasquez had another secret satisfaction, arising from the thought of the good Prize that had brought them into that good Company. The Gentleman was a Person of Excellent Discourse, the Priest, of a very Sociable, and Conversative Humour, and the two Young Scholars made it appear, that they had not misspent their time at the University, every one being desirous to make the best discovery he could of his Abilities. The Priest took occasion to inform them that he was going to Court, to get a Privilege, to put two little Pieces of his into the Press, being such as (some Friends of his had assured him) he should oblige the World in the Publication of them. The Gentleman, who sat next him, was a Person acquainted with Letters, and expressed a great Curiosity to know what they might treat of. Doctor Berilliere (so was the Priest called) told him they were Books of Discourses, and Divertisements; representing to him, that things of that kind, were kindly received at Court; that one of them contained several Novels, and the other a Collection of Poems Written by him, during his Residence at Salamanca. He told them withal, that, if they thought it not tedious, he would entertain them with somewhat out of the former, whenever they should be at leisure to give him Attention.  
Corrina, who was a great Lover, and Reader of such Treatises, entreated the Doctor, if it were no trouble to him, to read one of his Novels, promising herself, from the assurance she had of his Excellent Parts, that the Style, and Conceptions would be answerable to the Worthiness of the Author. I have endeavoured all I could, Madam, (says the Doctor to her) to conform myself to the Style now used at Court; my Prose is free from Affectation, and consequently, will not weary the Reader, nor are the Conceits so flat as to produce the same Effect. I make it my business to give my Writings a little Life, and Smartness, which may raise in the Reader an Earnestness to know the Period of the Adventures. I Write as I speak, because I see Men love those things that are Natural, better than those which smell of too much Study, and Affectation; and take it from me as a thing very certain, that it requires a certain measure of Confidence for any Man to Write, as the Times go now; which proceeds hence, That so many Excellent Wits busy themselves in Writing, and Publish things as Admirable as Ingenious, and not only Men, who profess Letters, but also some Women. The Doctor having ended this Discourse, he took out his Book of Novels, and the Company having Composed themselves to Silence, and Attention, he entertained them with that which follows.  
There was an Ancient Gentleman, who had lost one of his Eyes; and was Married to a Wife far younger than himself: His Business lay much abroad, which was the occasion that he could not see his Wife so often as he would. She in his Absence did so much forget her Honour, and her Conscience, that she fell in Love with a young Gentleman: In Process of time, which brings all things to Maturity, and Perfection, the Report was so hot, and so current, that her Husband was Advertised of it, who could not be induced to believe it, by reason of the great Affection she always expressed towards him. Nevertheless, one day he determined with himself to make Experience of it, and, if he could, to revenge himself upon that Person who had thus dishonoured him.  
To accomplish his Design, he pretended Business to a certain place, not far from home, for three or four days. He was no sooner departed, but his Wife sent to her Friend to acquaint him with it, whereupon he immediately came to pay those Assignations of Love which she expected. He had not been with her above half an Hour, but, behold! her Husband was returned, and knocked aloud at the Gate. She who knew him, told her Gallant of it, who was so amazed, and put into such a Fright, that he wished himself safe at home, and Imprecated both her, and her Love, who had brought him into so much danger; but she assured him, that he need not perplex himself, for she would contrive 〈◊〉 means to convey him safe forth without being discovered, and desired him to put on his clothes with what speed he could, Dur●…g this Interval, her Husband continued knocking at the Gate, and called upon his Wife as loud as he could, but she seemed not to take notice that it was he, but spoke aloud to a Servant that lay above Stairs, Why don't you Rise, and Answer that rude Person, whoever it is, which makes such a Noise at the Gate? Is this a seasonable Hour of the Night for any one to come into a Civil House? If my Husband were at Home, I'm sure you du●…st not do so.  
The Husband hearing the Voice of his Wife, called to her as loud as he could, Wife open the Door, will you have me stay here until Morning? When she perceived her Gallant dressed, and ready to go, she opened the Door, and ran to Embrace her Husband, saying to him, Dear Husband, How glad am I of your coming? For I was in a Curious Dream, and was so well pleased, better than ever I was in my Life before: For methought, you had recovered the Sight of your other Eye; whereupon, Kissing of him, she clapped her Hand upon the Speculative Eye, and asked him whether he did not see much better than he used to do? In the mean time, whilst she had blinded him, her Friend slipped out of Doors, of which her Husband immediately mistrusted, and told her, By Heavens, Wife, i'll never Watch you any more; for thinking to Catch you, I have had the finest Trick put upon me by you, that I think ever was invented: I see it is not in the power of any Man to put any Stop to a Woman's Proceedings, unless he should Kill her, or Burn her; for a Lewd Woman nothing can Refine, or Purge her, but Fire: Therefore, since the good Entertainment, I have given you, cannot conduce to reclaim you, I shall henceforth study for some Chastisement, whereby you may be better Disciplined. This said, he departed from her into another Room, leaving her perplexed, and Disconsolate enough, who by the means of her Friends, and Kindred, and by her Tears, and Excuses, was afterwards reconciled to him.  
This Pleasant Novel entertained the Company till they came to their Inn that Night. Every one took occasion to commend Doctor Berilliere, as well for the smartness of his Invention, as for the Excellency of his Style. The Old Gentleman told him, that if the whole Piece were answerable to the Pattern he had shown them of it, no doubt, but his Novels would be very well received in the World, and that he would gain as much Reputation by them, as they had had Pleasure. And thereupon, he earnestly Entreated him to Communicate somewhat of the others to them, that so their Travelling might be the lesle Tedious. The Doctor gave him, and all the rest of the Company his very hearty Thanks for the good Opinion they had of him, and proffered them, when they should be weary of Discoursing, to divert them with some of the other Novels, till they came to their Journeys end, provided they thought them not Tedious. They all, with much Gladness and Thanks, accepted of his proffer.  
Being come within a Musquet-shot of the Ancient City of Corduba, heretofore the chiefest of the Kingdom, while the Moors were possessed of all Spain, after Sunset, an unexpected Accident caused them to make a little halt. Two Gentlemen being come out into the Fields, upon a Challenge, which one had sent to the other, and having Fought, one of them was worsted, being run through the Body in two several places; which had obliged his Adversary to make his Escape, to get into some place of Sanctuary. The Wounded Person cried out for some Body to receive his Confession, just as the Coach passed by: Which being heard by the Company, Doctor Berilliere, who was a Priest, and a Confessor, could do no lesle than get out, accompanied by Vasquez, and Mistress Corrina, who had a great desire to see the Wounded Man. They came to him, and as soon as the Doctor had received his Confession, and given him Absolution, he lost his Speech, being supported by Vasquez. The Doctor returned to the Coach, and having called several times upon Corrina, who pretended she could not get away Vasquez, the Coachman perceiving it began to grow Dark, put on the Horses, having sent them Word what Inn they should take up. Corrina was much troubled to see the Coach gone, having left her, and Vasquez behind, Charitably Exhorting the Dying Person to recommend himself as much to the Mercy of Heaven; but he was so far gone, that, to spare them further Exhortation he gave up the Ghost.  
They were much troubled, what they should do with the Body, when certain Officers of Justice came in, who, having at a distance seen the dead Person in the Arms of Vasquez, and a Woman standing by, and had notice before that two Men were seen going out of the City, with a design to fight a Duel, presently imagined that Vasquez was one of them, and consequently the Murderer of the other; upon which Presumption, he was sent to Prison, and order given to the Jailor to put him fast enough. Corrina had more favour, being confined in the House of one of the Officers, who was to have a care of her forthcoming. They both used all the Arguments they could to clear themselves, from having any thing to do with the Murder, alleging upon what occasion they came to the Body: But their own Words would not be taken, and it was presumed, the Duel had been upon the account of Corrina. The Judge ordered her to be brought to his own House to be further Examined, which was accordingly done. When she came thither, there were in the Room several Gentlemen, and among others, a Florentine, a very Rich Merchant, whom some business of his own had brought thither: They had no sooner seen Corrina, but they all admired her Beauty, and the Majesty of her Air, but the most satisfied of any was the Florentine, who, to give him his due, was of a very Amorous Constitution. Corrina was extremely troubled that such an Affront should be done her by the way, as perceiving, that if they were stayed the next day, they should lose the opportunity of continuing their Journey.  
The Judge put several Questions to her, concerning the Duel, and the Gentleman's Death; whereto she answered, that she knew nothing of it, and that she was coming in the Sevil Coach, to go for Madrid, accompanied by some other Persons then in the Inn, whom she Named; that as the Coach passed by, a certain Person, who had been Wounded upon the Highway, not far from them, called out for some Body to receive his Confession, and that a Priest, who was with them in the Coach, went out to do it, with whom also she went out of Curiosity, accompanied by an Uncle of hers, who came along with her. They ordered, in regard it was grown late, to Adjourn the Business till the next day, that a more exact Enquiry might be made into it; and, in the mean time, that all who came along with the Coach, should not stir from Corduba, without Permission. This done, Corrina was brought back to the Officer's House, where she was to continue that Night. The Florentine, who lived not far from it, accompanied her; but though he had lived at a far greater distance, he would have thought it no great way to wait on a Lady, with whom he was already over Head and Ears in Love. Taking leave of her at the Officer's House, he proffered her all the Services lay in his Power, for which she thanked him, yet taking it for no more than a Compliment▪ The Vexation she conceived at her being thus unexpectedly stayed, brought her into some Fits of a Fever, the first, of a Tertian, which she afterwards fell into.  
The next day, all the Persons who came in the Coach, being Examined, gave the same account as Corrina had done before; whereupon, Vasquez was set at Liberty. Other Witnesses also, who knew somewhat concerning the Duel, were heard, and gave the Judges a perf●…ct knowledge of the Murder. Vasquez went immediately to visit Corrina, expressing himself extremely troubled at her Indisposition; he did all he could to cheer her up, that they might prosecute their Journey: But the Physician, who had visited her, advised her not to remove thence, till she had recovered her Fever, and told her, that she could not Travel any further, without hazard of her Life; which being so, the Coachman was forced to leave them behind, but they were adjudged to defray the Charges of their stay, and he to deliver up what they had in the Coach. The Florentine came often to see the Fair Traveller, at the Officer's House, and began to Treat her very Nobly, an Humour the more remarkable in him, who, for sordid Niggardliness might be compared to the Covetous Mercator; but Love, though but a small Deity, yet many times does very great Miracles, turning Avarice into Prodigality, and Cowardice into Courage.  
Corrina kept her Bed fifteen days, during which time, she was constantly visited by Signior Nicola (so was called the Amorous Florentine) and after the Visit, came in a Servant with a Treat of Sweetmeats, and Wildfowl, which the Officer and his Wife were glad to see, for the best share fell to them. At last, the Lady, with her Health, recovered also her good Complexion, and her Beauty, and the Florentine continuing his Civilities, proffered her a House with a Fair Garden, which he had on the side of a pleasant River. Vasquez, whom she called her Uncle, advised her not to refuse that proffer, for he had discovered the Man to be extremely in Love with her, that he was very rich, and that they might get as much out of the Florentine, as they had out of the Covetous Mercator. Corrina accepted the proffer, and set things in order to go to the Florentine's, and to continue there till she had recovered herself so well, as that she might prosecute her Journey. The Florentine would not have it known at Corduba, that he had brought her to his Countryhouse, to prevent People's Talk, and other Inconveniences that might have ensued. So that, with the Consent of Corrina, he gave out, that she had left the City in order to the Prosecution of her Journey. Accordingly there were two Mules brought for her, and Vasquez, and two others to carry their Luggage, and having left Corduba, towards the Evening, to blind the Eyes of the Inquisitive, they kept on their way towards Madrid: But having rid about half a League, they turned back again, and took up their Quarters at Signior Nicola's, which was not above two slight Shots from the City. There he expected her, with a Magnificent Supper, which he had provided. Here the Florentine discovered his Love to her more freely than he had done before.  
As to his Person, his Age was about Forty and of a good manly Countenance, having Buried his Wife some two years before, by whom he had no Children; he was a wholesale Merchant, and traded in all sorts of Commodities, insomuch that all the other Merchants, not only of the City, but also of other places there abouts came to him, for he held Correspondences in all parts; he was a very thrif●…y Person, nay, to give him his due Character, I should use other expressions: He had some yearly revenue, besides twenty thousand Crowns in ready Money, and sixty thousand in Credit, and his own Trading, which was very great; he was a great Student, and had Studied at Pavia and Bologna, before he became Heir to his Brother, who died a very Rich Man in Spain, and that Inheritance it was, that occasioned his Marriage at Corduba; he had so passionate an Affection for Corrina, that he used all the ways he could imagine to insinuate himself into her Favour. Upon that account it was that he proffered her the use of his Countryhouse, to take the Air, and recover her indisposition; conceiving, that, being at his own House, it would be the more easy for him to compass his desires. She had been told by Vasquez, that this Merchant was a well Feathered Fowl, and might be easily plucked, and since this good luck had fallen to them by Chance, they should make the best advantage they could of it.  
That night they only Supped, and every one went to his rest, for it was very late; the Florentine made as if he would have returned to the City, and lie there; but his Servants, whom he had before instructed, persuaded him not to go abroad at that unseasonable time of the Night, for fear of meeting with any Thiefs; besides, there being a Press in the City, where many young men presumed to do mischief in the Night, and Robbed all they met: At last, being persuaded not to stir out, he was glad to pass away some part of the Night in discoursing with Corrina, and being got to Bed, his business was to consider, by what means, and with least charge, he might obtain his desires of her. Several things came into his mind, but the easiest he could find, suitably to his Humour, was to forget her, and never think of her any more; for he knew the Age we live in to be such, that it is a Miracle to get any kindness in Love, without Liberality.  
The next Morning he commanded somewhat should be made ready for her Breakfast, not Imagining she was up: but when word was brought him that she was out of Bed, the Florentine would needs go into her Chamber, to chide her for rising so soon, and by that means to see whether Corrina's Beauty were any way obliged to Artifice; he found her a Combing her Head, and so he had a full sight of her Hair, which was of a great length, and of a Chest-nut Colour; the Florentine gave Heaven thanks, who, with so many other perfections, had bestowed on her such an excellent Head of Hair: but he was much more astonished, when, upon her dividing it into two parts, to make him an answer, he saw her Face, as Beautiful as it had appeared to him when she went to Bed; a thing able to inflame a Person lesle inclined to Love and more to avarice than he was, inasmuch as there is not a greater Charm, to secure a Lover's Heart, that to see than the Beauty of his Mistress is Natural, and scorns to borrow any thing of Art. Corrina indeed was not much troubled to look after Waters, Paints, Pomatums, Unguents, and such things, wherewith such Women, who stand in need of them, hasten on their Age with their wrinkles, and lose their Youth ere they are aware; she only washed herself in fair Water, and needed no other Vermilion to heighten the Beauty of her Face, than that of her own lively Complexion; the Merchant asked whether she would be pleased to see the Garden? She made answer, that she was extremely obliged to him for the trouble he gave himself to divert her; and to satisfy him how kindly she took that Favour at his Hands; she went along with him just as she was, without putting up her Hair, which hanging down over her Shoulders, added much to her Beauty, and it is not much to be doubted, but she had a design in it. She went down with this new Gallant of hers, who thought it an extraordinary pleasure to have her by the Hand; and in that posture she saw the whole Garden, seeming to be much taken with the delightfulness of it.  
Having recreated herself with him, till the Sun began to be somewhat hot, she returned into the House, and broke her Fast, after which, having discoursed of several things, she desired to see the whole House. The Amorous Florentine desiring nothing so much as that she might see his Wealth, shows her a great number of excellent Pictures, done by the best Painters in Europe, some very rich pieces of Tapestry, Cabinets of Ebony, of several Fashions, Embroidered Beds, and all Sorts of Householdstuff of great Value, in a word, there wanted not any of those things requisite for the furnishing of a House fit for a Nobleman. Having seen all the Rooms, he opened a curious Closet, near which there was a little Oratory, and in that Closet there were a great many Pieces of Painting, done at Rome, of extraordinary Value, Agnus Dei's of Gold and Silver Gilt, and Flowers done as near the Life as could be imagined. The Closet was full of Books, very richly Bound, and neatly disposed into Gilt Drawers. Vasquez who was a curious Person, and had read much, was looking very earnestly on the Titles of the Books, which were in one Drawer, and having put that into its place, he took out another, wherein there were others very curiously Bound, but had no Titles on the Backs. Vasquez opens one of them, and finds the Author of it to be Arnaldus de villa Nova, and near that were the Works of Rosino, Alquindus, Raymond Lullius, Cornelius Agrippa, and Doctor Dee's Actions with Spirits.  
The Merchant perceiving him so taken up with the Perusal of those Books, asked him what he looked on so attentively. I find here, Sir, (replies Vasquez,) a great many Books of Chemistry, and, from the curiosity I observe in your Collection of Treatises of that kind, I infer, that you have Studied that Science: 'Tis true, (says the Florentine,) I have spent some time in the Perusal of those Authors; but how far, I pray, are you acquainted with them? Only so far, (replies the other) that I have spent the best part of my Life in that Study. Nay then, (says the Florentine) you must needs be a very great Chemist. I am not to acknowledge what I am, (replies Vasquez,) we will discourse another time of these things more at large; for the present, I shall only tell you, that, besides these Authors, I have read all I could ever meet with that treated of this Science; I have turned over the Works of Avicenna, Albertus Magnus, Terno, Pythagorus; the Secrets of Callidus, the Book of the Allegory of Morillus, that of the Secret Stone, and that Entitled, de Tribus Verbis; besides many Manuscripts, which I never showed any man; the Florentine was almost out of himself for joy to hear these things; I am extremely glad, (said he to him) that this Science pleases you, for I have a particular inclination for it. I know it very well (replies Vasquez,) (which he said, having already resolved how to put a slur upon him,) but in regard I place a great confidence in you, I will tell you a thing in your ear, which you will be much astonished at; it is this (whispering him in the Ear) that my Niece knows, without any Study, in a manner as much as I do of this Art, and is very Fortunate in the Practic part of it, as you shall see by experience; but I entreat you not to speak to her of it at this time, for she would not have it known to any, nay would not take it well. Vasquez could not have pitched upon a more likely way to bring the Florentine into the Gin; for his avarice was such, that he would, have parted with his Soul to find out the Philosopher's Stone, hoping, if he once got that Secret, ever afterwards to swim in Gold.  
Corrina busied herself at the other end of the Closet, while Vasquez made this Discourse to the Florentine, and was looking upon some other Curious and Pleasant Books, for there were of all sorts; yet was she not so attentive, but she heard somewhat of Vasquez's Discourse concerning Chemistry, and perceived the Merchant was much taken with it; the Truth is Vasquez had some knowledge in that Science, and had spent a considerable Sum of Money, to find out the Philosopher's Stone, which though many had sought, yet could not any affirm they had met with it; the success he had had in that business only satisfied him of their folly, who spent their time and Estates in so ridiculous a disquisition, and he was glad to meet with so good an opportunity, to recover some part of the Money he had squandered away in the search after it: for the Florentine, crediting what was told him by Vasquez, imagined himself somewhat above a Prince; he told him, that, in that very House, he had all things requisite to make the experiment; and thereupon brought him into a Room full of Furnaces, Alembics, Glasses, and Crucibles, with all the Instruments used by the Chemists, and good store of Char-coal. Vasquez seeing that, concluded the Merchant would be easily taken, and what made him the more confident was, that he imagined he understood all those Books, whereas Vasquez was satisfied he knew only so much of them, as would serve to bring him into the Noose: In fine, they gave over talking of it any further at that time, though the Florentine was unwilling to quit the discourse; they went down thence into a Ground-Room, the Windows whereof looked into the Fairest part of the Garden, where Dinner expected them. After Dinner, Vasquez pretending it was his Custom to take a Nap, left the Merchant alone with Corrina, to whom he took occasion to make a full discovery of his Love, assuring her, that all he had was at her Service, and desiring her to dispose of it as she pleased. She seemed to entertain the proffers of his affection with much kindness, yet at that time she only raised him into a slight hope, showing herself very pleasant to him.  
Having seen a Lute, in one of the Rooms above Stairs, she desired it might be brought down for her Music, at which she was excellent, and contributed much to bringing about of her designs; the Merchant, who had a little skill at that Instrument himself, was very glad to hear that she used it, and caused it to be immediately fetched, saying that his Deceased Wife played excellently well upon it, and that about a Seven-night before, having entertained some of his Friends with a Collation, they had set it in Tune. The Lute being come, Corrina began to play, and made it appear, that there were very few that could excel her at that Instrument: the Florentine was astonished at her dexterity, and to bring him absolutely to her lure, she Sung an Air to it, but with such a grace, that he was at a loss, whether he should more admire her Hand, or her Voice; the truth is, she had a particular excellency in both, so that his excessive Commendations of them; were not so full of flattery as might be expected from a person passionately in Love; with a modest blush, which spread itself gently over her face (a thing she could command, tho' never acquainted with shame) she seemed to express a certain bashfulness, and ere it was quite dispelled, Signior Nicola, (said she to him) What I have done was only for your diversion, be pleased to receive it with some regard to the desire I had to endeavour your satisfaction; which yet I have not done without much temerity, before a Person of so delicate an Ear as you are Master of, and one, no doubt, wont to hear the best Voices in the World. I never heard any, (replies Nicola) that came near yours, and therefore I beseech you, let not your Modesty occasion you any prejudice; nay rather be proud, Madam, of the excellent endowments you have so liberally received from Heaven, and acknowledge the Favours it hath done you; be more sensible of your own worth, and think my approbation below it; and yet when I was a young Man, I was much addicted to Music, and some would needs persuade me that my time was well bestowed in it. I must confess the Spanish Tongue comes not so natural to me as the Italian, the Graces and Beauties whereof, I have better Studied upon the Theorbo, which I am so far Master of, as in some Measure I may satisfy the Hearer. Whereupon perceiving that Corrina would have laid by the Lute, he desired her to make use of it a little longer, and to Sing one Air more, which she, to Honour him, did.  
Nicola took occasion to give his dear Corrina greater Commendations for the excellency of her Voice than he had done before, and she, to renew her thanks to him, for the Favour he did her; he thought it time to give her leave to take a little rest, and he went himself into another Room to do the like. Vasquez on the other side, instead o●… Sleeping, was contriving how to get the Philosopher's Stone, not for the Credulous Florentine, but out of him; he had so persuaded him of his abilities, in that Science, that he desired nothing so much as to be as knowing in it as he was, but all out of no other design than to satisfy his own insatiable avarice; he imagined that if he could find the Philosopher's Stone (a Rock rather, against which so many have wracked themselves) all his Householdstuff should be of Gold, that he should be as Rich as Croesus, and that the Wealthiest about the City, compared to him, would be little better than Beggars.  
Vasquez had also along discourse with Corrina, about the means how they should get the Gudgeon into the Net; he gave her some instructions in Writing, that the Florentine might find she knew something of the Science, at least the Terms of it: Corrina got them by Heart, and, to begin the Cheat, Vasquez asked for some Links of a Gold Chain, she had brought from Sevil; it was a large one, and if there were a Dozen Links taken from it, they would not have been missed; being come into the City, he goes into a Gold-Smith's Shop to melt down those Links into an Ingot, which he brought back to the House, and communicated his Design to Corrina.  
Nicola, who had slept all this while as sound as if he had not been in Love, comes in to them, and they began to talk of several things, far from having any Relation to the Business he had been about, which Vasquez did purposely to engage the other to fall first into that Discourse, and indeed within a quarter of an hour, he was gotten into the Subject of Chemistry. Vasquez discoursed of it after the rate of a Man that had spent his whole Estate in the Work; insomuch that Nicola was astonished thereat, for though he pretended much skill in the Science, yet could he not but acknowledge himself much inferior to the other. Vasquez Desirous to give the Merchant all the Satisfaction he could Desire, told him, that he could turn what Metal he pleased into Gold. The Florentine was ravished at the proposal, and earnestly entreated him that he might see it done. Vasquez asked him whether there were any Char-Coal in the House; the Florentine told him there was good store, for he had had the Curiosity to make some trials thereof himself.  
They went up both into the Room where they had been before, and finding it full of Furnaces, Creusets, Alembics, and other Chemical Instruments, Vasquez said to him, Here we have all things requisite for the present. He caused some Fire to be brought, and having put a little Copper into a Creuset to melt, the Florentine saw it melting: Vasquez took a Box out of his Pocket, wherein there was a Paper full of Powder, which he said was the most Principal Ingredient in the whole Work. He put it into the Creuset, which having brought as cleverly as he could to the Window, he poured out the melted Copper, and put in the Ingot of Gold into its place, and when he had covered it, he told the Florentine, that it should not be stirred thence for half an hour. That time they spent in Discoursing of several things in Chemistry, wherein Nicola desired to make some further Progress. At last, Vasquez thought it time to show him what he had done, and so opening the Creuset, he took out the Ingot and showed it him. The Covetous Miser was transported with Joy to see it, though he were not fully satisfied of its being perfect Gold. Vasquez wished him to have it tried by a Goldsmith; which trouble he would needs take upon himself, and having found that it was very fine Gold, of twenty two Carats, he returns extraordinarily well satisfied. While he was gone out, Vasquez instructed Corrina, how to effect their Design upon Nicola, who being more Covetous than Amorous, would have them immediately to begin the great Work of finding the Philosopher's Stone. He promised Vasquez extraordinary Recompenses, and told him, that he would be at the whole Charge, though it should amount to twenty thousand Crowns.  
Vasquez, who had contrived how he intended to gull the Merchant, returned this answer to the great proffers he had made him. Signior Nicola (said he,) I am now gone almost seven years beyond the grand Climacterical Year of my Life, which is as much as to tell you, that I have passed the greatest and best part of it. It were no hard matter for me, with the help of the Science I am now Master of, to spend the little which is yet to come, at my ease, and it may be more plentifully, than some of the Wealthiest Grandees of Spain; and that I can be without any Man's Favour or Assistance, I think you may have observed yourself. And in regard I have no Children, to inherit my Estate, which, I thank Heaven, is somewhat considerable also in Lands, the main concernment I have in this World, is to look after this young Woman, my Niece. She is already but too Rich, in that she hath all I have, though her Father, who was my Elder Brother, left her no mean Fortune. She might, had she a mind to it, be as Nobly Married as she was before, for her late Husband was descended from the Noblest Houses in Andaluzia. Nor were it hard for me to add to her Wealth, you know it; but such is my Confidence in you, that I will tell you the Reason why I do not.  
That I am the Ablest Alchemist in all Spain, is known to many, which being also come to the Ears of his Majesty, I am sought after every where; but I have hitherto had the Happiness to keep out of their Clutches who are perpetually employed to find me out, having spread a report, that I was gone for England. It is not out of any contempt of the Honours and Wealth of this World, that I avoid the searches of those, whom his Majesty hath enjoined to bring me to him, but out of this Consideration, that I would not purchase any favour with the loss of my Liberty, for I must expect no lesle, than to spend the rest of my days in a Noble kind of Captivity. I will express myself more clearly to you. His Majesty hath at the present very great Armies on Foot in several parts, which put him to a vast Expense, such as his own Revenue, and what comes from the Indies are not able to defray: So that, to satisfy his Ambition, he is forced to make use of the Industry of his Subjects. Now were it my hard Fortune, to be found by those who so narrowly search after me, the King, knowing that, with the Assistance of my Art, he might easily recruit the Charge he is at, and would immediately dispose of me into some Fortress, where being confined for the rest of my days, I should be perpetually kept at Work, to augment his Treasures, and supply his pressing Exigencies. I should not think it much to do it once or twice, but the Avarice of Men is grown to that height, that they are not satisfied with abundance, if they have the least Apprehension, that the source of it may ever be dried up. This is the true Reason, Signior Nicola, which obliges me to keep out of my own Country, and to play least in sight; and therefore receive what I have told you as a great Secret, such as I should not have communicated to my own Brother, had he been in the World: But I have that Confidence of you, that you will never reveal it.  
Nicola returned Vasquez his most affectionate thanks for the great Trust he reposed in him, and thought himself so happy in the discovery he had made to him, that he conceived the greatest Nobles might justly envy him. His answer to him, was, That the Grounds and Motives, on which he concealed the excellent knowledge he had acquired, were just and rational, since that no doubt but he would be confined, though for no other reason than this, to prevent his carrying over such a secret into another Country, to serve a King that were an Enemy to his Catholic Majesty. He acknowledged himself infinitely obliged to him, and wished it were in his power to serve him; but having only the Wealth he was possessed of to proffer him, he entreated him to dispose of it as freely as if it were his own, and since he had shown him a trial of his Abilities, that he would not think that enough, but ere he left Corduba, would give him such further Instructions, as, being observed, he should not miscarry in the great Work. Vasquez promised to satisfy his Desires, telling him withal, that so precious a thing as Gold could not be gotten but with Gold, and that the Foundations of all Designs require Charge; that the Philosopher's Stone could not be found without cost and much pains; that if he were resolved, he should attempt the doing of it, he must be at the whole Charge, and that afterwards the profit should be equally divided, and that in a short time he would be glutted with Wealth.  
The Florentine, ravished at that Proposal, proffered to spend all he was worth upon that Account. Corrina promised to assist them. Nay, (says Vasquez to her,) there is such a Necessity of your Assistance; that we shall not be able to do so well without it. They thereupon resolved, that within two days they should begin the great Work. Vasquez told him, that the Principal of the Divine Elixir, (so the Chemists call the Perfection of their Work) was form out of the solidity of Mercury, and other things which he named to him, together with the Urine and Excrement of a Redhaired Child; that all was to be put into an Alembick, with Powder of Aloes, the Infusion of Opium, Toads-Grease, Arsenic, and Salt-Peter: But he hoped to do it chiefly with the Urine, and Excrements aforesaid, which he ordered Nicola by all means to procure, as being the most necessary ingredient of all.  
He promised to find it; and, to begin the Work, the Merchant delivered him five hundred Crowns in Gold, to buy certain precious Drugs, which he said were necessary; and this the Florentine did the more willingly, as well out of the Confidence he had to receive them multiplied into so many thousands, as o●…t of a Design he had thought on the Night before, of making Corrina his Wife, and by that means assuring himself of Vasquez. Whereupon that very Evening after Supper, he took Occasion to carry Vasquez along with him into the Garden, and acquainted him with his Resolution. The Alchemist thought it a good way to further his Work, and accordingly he approved of his Intention, and acknowledged it would be a great Honour to his Niece to meet with so worthy a Person; but that there was one Obstacle to be first removed. What may that be (says the other?) Vasquez told him, that his Niece could not be Married, till a Dispensation were first obtained from Rome, in regard, that out of the extraordinary regret she conceived at the loss of her late Husband, she made a vow to enter into a Religious Life; that the Occasion of their going to Madrid, was to receive six years' Arrearages of a Rent due to them from a Person of Quality, who was very backward in paying, in Order to her Reception into a Nunnery; but that as soon as the Dispensation were come from Room, they would conclude the Marriage, which he doubted not but she would accept, not only out of the Compliance she had ever expressed towards him, but also out of this Consideration, that she was to match herself with a Person inclined to the study of a Science, wherein she had naturally attained so great Perfection. Nicola was the most satisfied Man in the World to have such a parcel of good Words given him, insomuch that from that very hour, Vasquez became absolute Master of all he was possessed of,  
Vasquez and Corrina having conferred Notes upon this new overture, were more Confident than ever to Compass their Design. He freely laid out the Money received of Nicola, in Drugs, persuading him they were not to be had under such and such Rates. He also furnished himself with new Furnaces, Creusets and Alembics, pretending that those in the House before, were not for his Purpose. In the mean time, the silly Merchant was enquiring up and down where he might have the Urine of a Redheaded Child, Which he had much ado to get; for the Mother's fearing it was to be used in some Operation of Witchcraft, would not easily let him have it; but Money is Omnipotent, and can do any thing. Vasquez could have done as much in one day as in a hundred, as to the performance of what he had promised, but the poor Merchant must be fooled some way or an other, till he met with an opportunity to smite him, and take a Dogg's leave of Corduba, with as much as he could shifted away on two good Horses, which lay leaguer in a secret place for that Purpose.  
He disposed all the Destillations into the Furnaces, in the presence of Nicola; he bought some Metals, as Brass, Copper, and Tin, several sorts of. Salts, and other things commonly used by Chemists; and setting Fire to the Furnaces, they destilled what had been put into them, but contributing nothing to the Business, and only to abuse him, who was the Charge of all the Foolery. As to Nicola's Love, he was much better treated than he was before; inasmuch as since the Proposal of Marriage, Corrina, the better to carry on the main Design, grew more kind to him, especially in Vasquez's Absence, which the besotted Coxcomb was so transported with, that he knew not whether his Head or his Heels were on the Ground.  
About this time Nicola received a Bill of Exchange of a considerable Sum, to be paid within twenty days after sight. This, with the breaking of some of his Debtors in other Countries, put him into some fear of doing the like, if his Attempts in Chemistry proved not successful. But to prevent all inconveniences, he did what most of his Quality and Kidney are wont to do, who being upon the point of Breaking, secure what they can of their Estates, that they may afterwards the more Commodiously remove into some other Country. So our Merchant, finding himself within some distance of Breaking, provided for the Misfortune, in case it should happen, and so promoted the mischievous Plot of Vasquez, and Corrina, whom he truly acquainted how Affairs stood with him, as if they had been his most Faithful Relations. Vasquez had left in the Custody of a certain Friend of the Merchant's, a good Sum of Money, and some Jewels of great Value, with order they should not be delivered to any, but to one of them two. Besides which, he brought some to his Countryhouse, and hid them in a secret place, in the presence of Corrina, of whom he had a Confidence, as if she had really been his Wife, Vasquez, who was still busy about his Destillations, put him into good hope, that within twenty days he should see the end of the great Work, and his House full of Gold, to recover the loss he had received by his Debtors.  
About this time, there happened a business which obliged the Merchant to take a Journey, to advice with a Correspondent of his, how to prevent the misfortune he saw coming upon him. Vasquez, and Corrina being entrusted with the House, thought it a fair opportunity to dislodge, and make the best they could of the present Game. They secured all the Money, and Jewels they could come at, and left the Plate and some other things, they could not so conveniently carry away, behind them, though with some regret, thinking it more prudence to make a safe retreat with what were considerable, than to hazard all, by grasping at too much. Having therefore loaden themselves with what was most precious, they left the Furnaces, and the Alembics, which made the Philosopher's Stone, at the cost of the absent Merchant, and took Horse while the People of the House were fast asleep. They took their way towards Malaga, and travelled all Night, having about them above six thousand Crowns in Money and Jewels, and left upon a Table near the Furnaces, a Paper of Verses, to hasten the Credulous Merchant to hang himself.  
Two days after their departure he returns home, very ill satisfied with his Journey, in that he had not done any thing in the business which occasioned it. All the hope he now had, was in his Uncle, Vasquez, imagining, by his means, he should yet be able to show his Head, and not only keep up his Reputation, but also be richer than ever he had been, such a strange Mist had the Witchcraft of Chemistry cast before his Eyes.  
He came not to his Countryhouse till after Night, where he found the Servant whom he had left with Vasquez and Corrina, for the rest of his People were in the City. The Servant received him with a sad Countenance, and being got up Stairs, he asked him (fearing somewhat were amiss) where his Guests were, of whom the Servant could give him no account, as having not seen them when they went out, and could only say, That two Nights before, they had Locked him in at two Room where he lay, which he had been forced to break open, because he could no otherwise get out. They searched up and down, and found that the Chests had been opened, and all the Money Conveyed away. This was not the worst the Merchant feared, but that they had also been with him, in whose Custody he had greater Sums of Money, and the most precious of his Householdstuff. It being too late to make any enquiry that Night, he thought it his best Course to go to Bed; but desirous to visit the Furnaces once more, he finds on the Table the Paper, left there by Vasquez, which having opened, he found in it these Lines.  
Signior Nicola,  
IT is the just Reward of those who attempt things impossible, to be shamefully disappointed. Many of your Profession have been ruin'd by their Faith, in things relating to their Trade; it was therefore but fit you should repent your Credulity, in a business you understood not. It was indeed impardonable, to expect to see that done by any Man, in a few days, which the Sun, who hath a greater power over the Metal you were so Covetous of, cannot perfect under four or five hundred Years. Your loss, I must confess, is great, but you have this comfortable Consideration, that you may now defy Chemistry, and all its Cheating Professors, to show you such another Trick as we have done. But, to avoid all future Temptations, take this hearty Advice from two dear Friends of yours; put all the fine Treatises you have of that Pernicious Art, into your Furnaces, and having set fire to them, and your House together, fairly run away by the Light of it.  
The poor Merchant had no sooner read them, ere he was Convinced, they were his kind Guests who had robbed him, and Extracted what he had in his Chests and Cabinets, with more ease than he had infused it into them. How he spent the Night, is only to be imagined, being just upon the Point of breaking, and not knowing any means to remedy it. All the hope he had, was, that the Money, and Jewels which he had left in a Friend's Hands, were safe enough; nay, he despaired not to find out those, who had done him the mischief. He turned himself from one ●…ide to another, not out of any disturbance, occasioned by his Love to the Crafty Corrina, (for that was absolutely lost with his Money) but that he had been so basely trepanned by a Beggarly Rascal. Then did he begin to Curse Chemistry, and all the Authors that ever Writ of it, whereas he should rather have given Heaven thanks, who, by the Cheat which was put upon him, had prevented the Prosecution of his Design, which might have absolutely ruin'd him.  
As soon as he perceived any appearance of day, he got up, and went into the City, to his House, whom he had entrusted with the keeping of his Money, and other things. He asked him whether Vasquez had been with him? The other answered that he had, and had taken away whatever he had in his Custody, and that therein he had followed his own Orders. The Word struck him almost dead; nay, the Resentments he expressed of that loss were so great, that if the other had not known the cause of it, he would have thought him out of his Wits. He Comforted him the best he could, and told him, that his only Course was to make a speedy search for the Robbers. He did all he could to that purpose, sending Officers, and others several ways; but that which Vasquez and Corrina had taken, was so extraordinary, that they could never meet with them. So they returned to Corduba, to be paid for their fruitless Pursuit, by him who had sent them, which, as his Affairs stood then, added not a little to this Affliction.  
This Adventure was soon known all over the City; and the Florentine, not able to except of another Bill of Exchange that had been sent him, was forced to absent himself, and to return to Florence, with what he could make by the Sale of his Goods. By this means he turned Bankrupt, and defied his Creditors, who could not find any thing he had left behind him. The same things happens many times to those, who, with small Estates, engage themselves in too great Affairs, presuming upon this, that if it comes to the worst, they can secure themselves by an Escape.  
FINIS.