Eromena: OR, THE NOBLE STRANGER. A NOVEL.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Pindar. 
LONDON, Printed for James Norris, at the Kings-Arms without Temple-Bar. 1683.   

TO Madam Sarah Monday.  
Madam,  
SInce it is not only usual, but necessary, to present things of this Nature to some Female Saint, under whose Patronage they may rest safe and secure from the severe Lash of detracting, censorious Tongues; I thought it my Duty, as well as Policy, to send the fair Eromena to bear yond Company.  
Tho she was a Princess endued with the greatest gifts of Fortune and Nature, (Wealth and Beauty) yet she resembles the Divine Nature in nothing more than a lowly Humility: and therefore, Madam, I have good Reason to presume, that she cannot deny you to be one of her Maids of Honour.  
As for the Noble Stranger, he desires to kiss your Hands with as great an Ardency as ever he did the lovely Eromena's; and the only Reason he can give, is, because you resemble her so well. He well knows what Altars ought to be erected to the Shrines of Wit and Beauty; and it would seem too much of Flattery in me to tell you how much you are Mistress of both: only Madam, be pleased to give them a candid and a gracious Entertainment. I dare be security enough, they'll be grateful and ingenious; and wherever they shall for the future happen to come, I doubt not but they will make good that of the incomparable Shakespeare; 
Not Marble, nor the gilded Monument  
Of Princes shall outlive this powerful Line;  
But you shall shine more bright in this Content,  
Than dusty Trophies soiled with sluttish Time.  
'Gainst Death and all oblivious Enmity,  
Still shall you live, your Praise shall still find room  
Even in the Eyes of all Posterity;  
Were this frail World sunk to its final Doom.  
So till in Judgement you again shall rise,  
You live in this, and dwell in Lovers Eyes.    

Eromena: OR, THE NOBLE STRANGER.  
WHen the Earth had long lain marbled up in Frosts, and grown weary of the white Livery of Nature, began to invest itself with the more pleasing Enamel of the verdant Spring; when a young Spartan Lord, attended with a noble and magnificent Train, had almost spent the Morning in the Chase of a stately Stag, which they had forced from the safer protection of the Forest, to the hazards and perils of a flowery Plain, till driven by his clamorous Persecutors to the horrid Ascent of a craggy Cliff; where, as it were grown proud to fall a Sacrifice, he sinks weeping, while the victorious shouts of his Hunter's echo the sad News of their Leader's Death to the distant Herds.  
So soon as their shrill Horns had performed his funeral Obsequies, their fight was entertained with a more startling and fatal prospect: from their lofty Station they behold a Ship, with Christian Colours, combating with an whole Squadron of Turkish Pirates; the Air had not the least Blast of Anger in her looks, nor the Clouds of Horror, when the merciless Turks, with their prevailing numbers, overpowered, and boarded the wretched Christians, to whom nothing could possibly afford any aid but only the prevalent Oratory of their Prayers; which propitious Heaven soon heard, and pitying their Miseries, commanded a Delivery.  
Presently the Clouds, big with impending Showers, loud Thunder roaring, and horrid Lightning roving through the darkened Air, proclaim a Tempest; Neptune rolls his watery Plains into transparent Mountains, and hurls them at the head of Jove; and Nature herself looked so affrighted, as if she would sink back into that matter that first covered the face of rude and undigested Chaos; straight the floating Castles are torn; among the towering Cliffs, the Sails and Masts rend by the angry Winds from the huge Hulk, gave as sad Groans as departing Souls from sinful Bodies. But the day beginning by degrees to recover her lost Light, made way for a more sad Discovery: Now the curled Waves begin to display the Trophies of their Cruelty in amazing funeral pomps and scattered ruins; here you might behold some wretched Objects, that having long struggled with the foaming Billows, sink and die; yonder a pair as constant in their Friendship as any whom the Poets have deified, meet their Fate both together, and die in each others Embraces: the Tritons ravish the beautiful and tender Virgins in their Lover's sight, and afterwards quench those bright Lamps their Eyes in a too certain and unlamented Destiny.  
Whiles such sad Spectacles drew pity from their Hearts and tears from their Eyes, a grating and surprising Noise assaulted their Ears, which in base, ignoble Cowards might have begot an extraordinary Fear, but in them stirred up a flame of Curiosity and Courage, when they beheld under the Rock a Company of those shipwrecked persons engaged in a desperate Combat; but when by a nearer approach every Individuum became more plain and obvious, from Surprise they were to such a Wonder in which Poets use to celebrate their Heroes, to see a noble Christian with every Blow expel a Turk's black Soul. Yet at length the number of his Foes blunted the edge of his Valour, and had made him stoop to an ignoble Conquest, had not the brave Thersander (followed by his small Retinue of Hunters) by a speedy Aid, crowned Christian Fortitude with the Laurel of Victory; which was so complete, that only one survived to be the unwelcome Messenger of their Ruin.  
But when Thersander and Horatio (for so was the noble Christian named) took a serious view of their pitied dead, they found one worthy Soul that had not yet disserted the tottering habitation of Life, though his Wounds were so numerous and dangerous that his Friend, the Noble Horatio, took the greatest Care imaginable to restore his just expiring Spirits, to gather strength sufficient to get to Thersander's Palace; to which, he of his own innate Goodness (and their necessity prompting) invited them to repose, making his Dwelling at once both a Sanctuary and the Throne of Charity to necessitous Strangers. 'Twas now in the cool time of the Evening, when Phoebus was reposed in the lap of Thetis, when they arrived at the Castle  
And here the extraordinary Splendour of the Palace, and the Commodiousness of its Situation, are sufficient to commend themselves. It was loftily seated on the Ascent of a stately Hill, whose Basis was well fringed with long-lived Oaks and princely Cedars, which sweetly shaded the adjacent fragrant Meadows, through which a spacious River smoothly glided to enrich the flowery Valleys, and render them both pleasing and profitable.  
Here the Noble Thersander chose rather to make his Residence than in the lazy Greatness and idle Trifles of the glittering Court: here it is that he is now grown old in Virtue, and begins to bow under the weight of Time; and since all the Glories of his younger days, now in the Calm of his Age, had left him nothing to embalm his Name but Virtue, he strives in that to be at once the greatest Wonder and the best example to his Posterity, the least of his Actions being filled with a Goodness so sweet and amiable, that like the ruins of once flourishing Temples▪ sacred to the Gods, the adoring Vulgar reverence their Memory, and think nothing more sacred than the demolished Monuments of never-dying Antiquity.  
In his Hall hung no Pictures representing the wanton embraces of an obscene Venus; nor indeed any thing that had the least resemblance of Softness or Effeminacy; the Walls were all adorned with useful and shining Armour, which his own Servants, valiant and loyal, managed when ever his Prince and Country required their Assistance, and never made use of them against either in a popular Faction, whose cursed Seeds were first engendered by Hell, and maintained by Ambition.  
His Friend Aphron being recovered of his Wounds, and Horatio's Discontent being quite lost in the splendour and pleasure of the Palace, they had no Remora to stay them, but only to pay those Acknowledgements which the Gratitude and Generosity of Thersander required them. They were just preparing to take their leaves, when a Messenger brings in a Packet to Thersander, containing a Mandate from his Royal Master, to attend him the next day; and that his Appearance at Court might be the more splendid and illustrious by such Attendants, he incites in them a strong desire to view the Royal Divertisements of the Court, by a Story, the fatal Truth of which hath often transferred the Spartans' Glory to the utmost Confines of the Universe.  
It was my Fate Sirs (said he) to be then an Attendant on my Prince, when the same occasion that draws him to this place now, proved at once the Cause of Joy and Grief. Not far from hence lies the Vale of Ceres, where his belov'd Eromena resides, a Lady that Nature only created for Man to wonder at; and when created, she broke her Mould, so that since she has not been able to produce her equal: she was not more the comfort of his Age than the glory of her Sex. But I engage myself in a too tedious Relation, which in brief take thus.  
When Beauty was first enriched by Youth, with manly strength; her Royal Mother was the happy Partner of his Bed, who kept up a flame of Virtue in her Soul that gave light to a Beauty, truly great and excellent. Some years had now past over 'em since they were first acquainted with those private Pleasures that every the Nuptial Bed, 'ere she made her Offerings at Lucina's Temple. Both their good Angels sat in Council for her safety, and an universal Joy filled the Breasts of both Parents with big and pregnant hopes of a Boy to be the Spartan Heir; while the Subjects express theirs in exalted Io's, and sounds of Triumph.  
But when the preceding Pains told the fair Queen that the imprisoned Infant longed to be delivered, all the Gravest Ladies were called to her Assistance, who afforded Nature all the help of Art, but in despair of safety, send their Prayers to win relief from Heaven, which it soon sent by Harbingers, who carried the fair Queen to Heaven with them, whilst her Body only adorns the silent Mansions of the dead: for, no sooner had the unhappy Babe breathed its first Salutes to the World, 'ere the dying Queen bids it farewell, and whiles her languishing Spirit expired with every Word, she bequeathed this her last Legacy in these Words; Receive this young and tender Infant from thy dying Queen; name her Eromena. Here! Oh here! I conjure you by all our mutual Vows, let this sweet Babe preserve my Memory within thy Thoughts; and since the Powers above, within the dark Registers of Fate, have ordained it that I no sooner am a Mother but must cease to be so, I once more request, that she may never be under any other Commands than what bear an equal Poise to your Paternal Care and fatherly Affection. This! this is all that can be left thee of thy dear Lucasia. Here in this shall you see my living Picture, whilst I, putting off the frail Robes of Mortality, take my Passage through the cold Grave, to mount and mingle with the shining Stars. O my Lord! Death would be all Charms and seem to me as the Smiles of Fate, and I with Pleasure should embrace it, would the fatal Sisters but spin the Thread of my Life to a little longer Date, that I might see this Infant grow a Woman: but, oh! I feel my dying Heartstrings break, and Life bids adieu to my dear Lord, and all the various Business of the World, to view what Changes lie hid in the Womh of Eternity.  
Thus died the Queen.—  
Presently Grief and Convulsions seized the good King, and had certainly shaken him from the Throne of Life, if the cheerful smiles and the pretty innocent looks of his Souls Darling had not recovered his long-lost Mirth; and stealing through all the Guards of Grief, with Joy renewed her Mother's Image in her smiles.  
But now the Royal Princess having out-grown her tender Infancy, needed no other Guardian to steer the Course of her Life than her own innate Virtue, which filled her Thoughts with heavenly seed, and so disposed her to all Good, that every Action of her Life proclaimed her Worth, and was an admirable Copy for the rest of the Court-Ladies to imitate.  
The King her Father, to add Majesty and Splendour to her Virtue, assigned an hundred of the noblest Youths of Sparta for her Guard: but (Princes are so sacred that their Actions are not in the least censurable by Subjects) it was some occult cause that moved the Prince to commit so select a Party to the Conduct of one that so ill deserved it; his Merits bore not the least proportion with his Birth; his Thoughts were ever high and soaring, beyond the sphere in which it had placed him; some seeds of Goodness lay here and there scattered in his Breast, which the Soil, too hot with Ambition, choked and withered: now he would seem to covet the Acquaintance and Company of the best, anon he is easily seduced to the Cabals and factious Associations of the worst of Mankind; his Valour has for a long time filled the mouth of Fame, and born him up on the Wings of popular Applause, insomuch that that which has often proved the terror of his pale Foes, might be justly feared he designs to turn to the Ruin of his Friends.  
But that which will screw up your desire to a greater height than the wished society of Valour, is a Custom in this Court, which some Nations in the World have abrogated and exploded, which the excessive love of her Royal Father had raised beyond all parallel, that as long as this Place is graced by his Residence, no Cause, although Capital, but is heard and judged by the Royal Princess, whose Mercy, when Despair has shrunk up the Spirits of the Oppressed, has been their safest Refuge and Asylum.  
But, that I might give you a more full and manifest Illustration of her excelling Virtues, I would not have any Adventure whatsoever take you off, and hinder your progess to the Court, whose Glories are too large and ample for Report to build on.  
The noble Youths wondering to hear so much of Virtue, with Joy prepare to attend on the noble Thersander; when Fate, to show her power, unhappily crossed the expectation of the brave Strangers by a very unlucky accident, to discover how much the Resolves of the best of Mankind truckle, and submit to the mysterious Commands of invisible Destiny.  
For Aphron, that was lately recovered of his Wounds, met with a more dangerous and fatal Relapse; as soon as the blushing Aurora ushered in the Morn, which he with painful expectation waited for, complained of a shivering Benumb'dness in all his Limbs; his Reason long oppressed, and haunted with his Sufferings, disserted her feeble Mansion, in whose Room it entertains only the wild Chimaeras of a sickly Fancy.  
But the Paroxysms of that sharp Calenture being somewhat abated, his Spirits retreated to a sweet slumber; which Horatio perceiving, takes a short Noon-tide Walk to divert his troubled Mind, and contemplate the pleasing variety of Nature.  
Who, to this end, seated himself in the obscure shady Recesses of an aged Oak; near which, two Virgins, bright as the Morn and fresh as the Spring-glories of the flowery Meadows, had retired to cool their wearied Bodies, and preserve their blooming Beauties from the ravishing Beams of the scorching Sun; the pleasing Airs of their well-tuned Songs charmed Horatio into a sweet sleep, while Fate soon contrived by an unlucky Accident to unravel all their mirth, by turning the sweet Harmony of their Voices into doleful Shriecks and a dismal Separation.  
For, by chance some of the young Lords, willing to partake of the pleasures of the morning, had removed themselves some few miles from the Court; and to avoid the heat of the too prevalent Sun, betook themselves to the cool protection of a Wood; in which Retreat, the proud Almanzor (Captain of the Princess' Guard) wand'ring too great a distance from the rest, happened to enter the same Grove where the two unhappy Virgins were retired; whom, as soon as he espied, he directs his steps towards 'em with so eager a pace that it justly gave them cause of flight; a startling Fury in his face betrayed the unruly Passion that was hid within: he seizes Floridella, and with impious Rhetoric and hot smothering Kisses, strives to assault the guarded Castle of her Virtue; in vain she used her weak Force, and her Prayers and Tears were as little prevalent as that; now he summons up all the choice of Eloquence, anon he thinks threatenings the only way to make her surrender; Base and Unworthy Whore (quoth the lustful Ravisher) that out of hate to Virtue deniest me that which thou freely grantest to every dull rude Swain, think not that these false and hypocritical Tears shall deprive me of a Pleasure which the opportunity both of Time and Place tells me I am Master of, whilst I offer to stoop thus low as to make thee Mother of a Son that might deservedly be the Glory of thy Family; nor art thou thyself ignorant that there is so great a disproportion between us as between Men and Gods.  
Trembling Floridella's Fears gave her just Strength enough to answer him.  
The Powers above (the Guardians of Virgin-Innocence) that with allseeing eyes look into the inmost Receptacles of our Thoughts, know you wrong me: Never the lest extravagant Thought or unlawful Desire found entertainment in my spotless Breast: I know the difference of our Births, but the poor name of Chastity exceeds all the splendid Titles of a glorious Whore, who turns the sweet Paradise of her Beauty into a thorny Wilderness, or a loathsome Dunghill. Think! Oh think! when Time shall be no more, at the last dismal Day (if our sacred Laws are more than Fables) the loss of Honour will be the loss of my Heaven, which if preserved, our spotless Souls converse with Angels, and our Bodies become Temples, fit for none but Deities to inhabit. But neither Prayers nor Tears could divert his unruly Passion: all strength of Oratory was in vain, and the poor breathless Nymph was brought to so low an Ebb, even almost beneath the power of Resistance, had not a young Swain (named Menalcas, whom the force of Love did often cause to frequent these Groves) brought her a timely▪ and unexpected Aid: he neither disputes with fear nor policy, but with his Sword endeavours the Rescue of the unhappy Virgin, till the fatal hand of the proud Almanzor made him fall a Sacrifice to her Chastity.  
Now her Prayers and Shrieks fill all the ambient Air; at which Horatio (whom Floridella's voice had before charmed into a sweet slumber) startled, and directed by the sound, hasted to discover what the Uncouthness of the noise might be; where when he came, he saw poor Menalcas wallowing in his own Blood, and trembling Floridella bathed in her own tears, ready to sacrifice her Life with her Virginity; Almanzor presently assails the noble Stranger, whom true Valour and the Justice of his Cause obliged to retaliate; here equal Valour bred in both a doubtful hope; Victory hovered long over their heads, till it descended, and crowned the righteous Cause, which the rest of Almanzor's Followers (that came from the next Grove seeing) endeavour to revenge his Dishonour, by seizing the noble Stranger, and imputing Menalca's Death to the wronged Horatio.  
They bring him to the Prince's Palace, where the Seat of Justice was erected, the terror of whose Sword could never wrinkle the smoothest Brow, since it was guided by the hand of a Princess, the frowns of whose eyes struck more Astonishment than the famed Draco's Laws, though writ in blood.  
She sat in purple Robes on a Throne of Ebony, interlayed with plates of Silver; which appeared so mournfully pleasant, that it seemed to delight those sable Souls whom the pale terrors of approaching Death had prepossessed: on each side sat a stern Minister of Fate, an impartial Judge, whose different Habits represented the lively Hieroglyphics of Mercy and Justice.  
Silence commanded, the undaunted Prisoner was brought forth, whose Looks, in such a low Ebb of Fortune, did discover a Soul fraught with such Virtues as come near the excellence of Angels, and such religious hopes and firm confidence, that whom Heaven knew innocent it would never fail to relieve.  
But the Friends of the cursed Almanzor, and wronged Menalcas, were so importunate Clamourers, that not all his Virtue could protect him; he must fall an innocent Sacrifice, to atone for no other Crime than their envenomed hate.  
An ominous silence presently struck the pitying Court, just before the fatal Sentence was pronounced, whilst the Royal Eromena strove to stifle her Tears with her Passion; it was then that the unseen Engine of mysterious Love first moved within her; 'twas first infused in the Embryo, which soon formed a divine Idea subsisting in the highest sphere of harmonious Nature.  
Now the Noble Horatio stands on the Precipice of Fate, and with an equal calm Mind embraces his Destiny. No disorderly fears ruffled his Fancy, nor domestic Wars raged within him; sometimes he gazed on the majestic Beauty of the Royal Princess, as an Emblem of greater glories than ever Earth afforded, whilst Reason guarded his Innocence, which controlled all ignoble Passions, and made Christian Fortitude and a Roman Valour kiss each other.  
The Judges having pronounced the fatal Sentence, the undaunted Prisoner is presently hurried from the Bar, when before the fair Princess was departed, Thersander, in obedience to the Royal Mandate, comes to Court, and understanding the imminent danger of the distressed Horatio, giveth Eromena a full Relation how he happened to meet him, and therefore, on his knees, entreats her to let Mercy triumph over her Justice, till Truth might be made more apparent by a clearer Inquisition: the Princess, who was much more forward to pardon than he to beg, was easily won to be his pitying Mediatrix, and immediately procured a Reprieve for three days, notwithstanding the severe Clamours of his implacable Enemies.  
Two of the three days were quite expired ere Heaven sent the happy means of Delivery, by the injured Floridella, to whose Ears Fame had brought the amazing Tidings of Horatio's Danger; she comes to Court with an haste in her looks, which imported somewhat extraordinary, and flies to Eromena, and tells her the tragic Story of Almanzor's Villainy, and her happy Delivery by that condemned unfortunate Stranger.  
The surprising Story being known to the whole Court, soon became the Object of Wonder and Admiration: now it was that Truth and Innocence smelled sweet and grateful in the Nostrils of all; now a sudden Joy seized the wondering Princess, to hear how lovely Valour and Innocence appeared in the despairing Stranger: the Scene of Fate was now changed, the Chains and Fetters of a loathsome Prison are now metamorphosed to the ravishing pleasures of a Royal Palace.  
The Spartan Prince, who had a Soul filled with Love and Gratitude, where he see Desert, reflecting on the horrid Attempt of the lustful Almanzor, by his Banishment made Virtue and Innocence appear more illustrious in the Noble Horatio; and as a Reward and Honour due to his Valour, made him Commander of his Royal Daughter's Guard.  
And now it was that the Divine Eromena began to place a secret Love, and a private Adoration in every Action he performs; in every thing he does she beholds a shining Majesty beneath a Cloud, or as Books wherein Heaven displays its sacred Oracles, in unknown and illegible Characters: her flames were not such as are kindled in every vulgar Breast, but the bright Stars of her Love sat enthroned so high, and shone so pure and spotless, that none but one endued with such Divine Beauty, could be endued with the like  
On the contrary, her Actions in his sight appeared like her form all heavenly and glorious; every Gesture carried a shining Majesty within it; and it would not be poetical to imagine that she was some She-Deity, disguised with Mortality, that forsook the crystal Arch to converse with Mankind.  
Her free Soul, disrobed of all low and terrestrial Thoughts, aimed at nothing now but the imperial Crown of mighty Love, whilst she, striving to repair the wakeful ruins of the Day within her Bed, a Dream, ominous and prophetic, lay long hover on the Wings of her Fancy, which discovered a bright Beam of pure Divinity, whose Rays so far transcended those of humane Reason, as the vast mass of Eternity doth a day or a year.  
She beholds a City paved all with Adamant, framed to survive the universal Conflagration, and outlive Doomsday, inhabited by none but our good Genius's, placed there to govern all our Actions, as a Medium betwixt us and Eternity.  
On each side of this large Structure was placed a Gate, between which was a Labyrinth, in whose Meanders the Vanities of Life sat attempting to stay the pale Harbingers of Death, but in vain; for, the impartial Tyrant conveys all down a dark Hill, at the foot of which runs a dismal Lake. On the black surface of the Water lie an infinite multitude of Boats filled with Passengers, whose pale, meager Aspects discover to the trembling Spectators that there's no Age nor Degrees of Mankind can be exempted from that powerful Tyranny.  
A Tide, which never shall know a Reflux, conveys each Passenger to a gloomy Strand, circled with Obscurity, where Eternity reigns, and swallows up the finite terms of Days and Years.  
The Princess having seen the various Scenes of Life, turns aside, and on a high Rock beholds the house of Fate; in it was a Quadrangle, and within that a Triangle, and both these encompassed with a Circle; this was its form, but what its matter was is too dangerous to inquire, but is left for us and our Posterity to admire: in every Corner stands a Tower, where inhabit the impartial, unrepenting Parcae; the first she cast her eyes on was Clotho, the kindest of the three, who chooses out the Seeds of Life from immaterial Essences, and disposes them to a Wool for her Sister Lachesis to spin, Myriad of Souls lie swarming about her shivering, naked, and without the frail covering of flesh, which by degrees ripens Mankind for his misery when he first enters on the stage of Life.  
The next she beheld was the Tower of Lachesis, whose swift Fingers draw the mysterious threads of Life in several lengths; some she extends to the weary Beds of decrepit Age, whilst others are broke off in Infancy, before they know what 'tis to live.  
Some she saw destined to the mourning Robes of heavy Afflictions, whilst purple Pleasures, gaudy Plumes, and glittering Trifles, were the lot of others; but among all, there was no one thread altogether free from the knots of Care; even Crowns sit heavy on the heads of Princes, and the glorious Titles of a far fetched Nobility are very ponderous, though honourable Burdens.  
Next to this was placed the dark Abyss of dismal Atropos: Here Death and Horror sat on their gloomy Thrones; every Room was filled with loud Groans, and the sad sight of pale, grim Ghosts: this was the last Stage, at which, all, sooner or later, shall be forced to arrive.  
Above all these was erected the lofty Pyramid of Fame, which was filled with the empty Sounds and big swelling Names of those whose threads of Life the Destinies pleased to wove in a finer Loom: here all the Whimsies of Report fly on feeble Wings, which not being able longer to support them, stick on the slimy Wall, till the curious Antiquary causes them to live in monuments of Paper, in whose Records they are still preserved to be the various Censures of succeeding Generations.  
Next she beheld the happy, peaceful Mansion of the Poets, only rich in Fancy, (as if that Poverty and Poetry, like Democritus' Twins, were inseparable) here the blessed Spirits of the incomparable Johnson and Cowley, reap the plentiful Harvest of all their Labours, and are framing ever verdant Laurels to crown their own never-dying Dust. Now they sing somewhat more lofty and sublime, and they leave the more low Themes of Wars and Men to write Odes and Anthems fit only for the tongues of Angels.  
Beneath them were placed the Historians, whose long-lived Works have erected for them so high and firm a Monument of Fame, as neither Men nor Eternity itself shall ever demolish.  
All which, the Genius of the Princes ran over with an heedless Haste, until obstructed by a more mysterious Vision that fixed her wand'ring Fancy.  
A Light, bright as the Sun, directs her where she beholds the better Genius of Sicilia, mounted on a stately Throne, whose proud State was supported by three noble Knights, who equally aimed at the Royal Seat; which since they could not attain to, was equally divided 'twixt her three fair Daughters: When the divided Throne had fixed a Diadem on each Angle, the royal Stem that bore her Father's Crown, brings to her View its glorious Race of Kings, whose Rear was led up by her Royal Father. Next came those that bore the honoured▪ Arms of Epirus, the Royal Train concluding in Zoranza. Next followed those Princes that had svvayed the Sceptre of Horatio, till stopped by Zoranza, the Diadem dropped from the hoary Head of Royal Gelon: this raised her Admiration to an extraordinary height, but much more when she saw the aged Prince appear again dressed in a poor Pilgrim's Weed, leading a lovely Boy, in whose innocent Looks she reads the soft Lectures of Pity and Compassion: but while she stood gazing on the sweet Youth, by a sudden and invisible Fate, he seemed transformed to the Person of the Noble Horatio: with Astonishment she beheld him, offering the Sacrifice of his Heart to her fair Idea: there the excess of Joy had robbed her of her sweet Slumbers, had not a sudden black Cloud of fear obscured the glorious dream; presently a dreadful Mist, black as the Vapours of the Stygian flood, filled the place with a quick, but horrid Darkness; and to increase its terror, 'twas followed by loud Claps of Thunder, charged with Volleys of amazing Lightning, which gave the Princess light enough to behold the Idea of Horatio grovelling in his Blood; which she no sooner saw but she ceased to be the Mistress of her Passions, and burst forth into ineffable Shrieks and passionate Invocations. Nothing founded in her Ears but his hollow expiring Groans, which bathed her in a cold Sweat of tears.  
But now a second Flash of Lightning, attended with a wild Horror, presented the pale form of her Royal Father; which no sooner vanished, but a Troop of Ghosts seemed to descend from the dark Prison of the cold grave, endeavoured to seize her, and bear her to the gloomy Confines of that sad abode; when just as she appeared to sink, lo! a resplendent Cloud bowed from the fair Arch of Heaven, which discovered the Noble Horatio clad in bright Armour, who immediately redeemed her from the threatening danger: which done, the horrid Darkness vanished, and the welcome Sun of glorious Comfort, displayed its Beams, by whose Light she beholds a Throne somewhat resembling the former, but far more rich and stately, on which the good Genius's (ministering Angels) placed her and her loved Horatio; in which ecstasy of Joy she awakes, and with a pleasing Rapture descants on the particulars of her Dream; the memory of which shall live so long within her thoughts, until Fate fulfil those illegible Mysteries of the dark Predictions.  
Soon as the Morning dawn'd, the Princess rose, and immediately withdrew from all burdensome Society to improve her Joy in the private shadows of a silent Grove; in which pleasing and delightful task whilst her Fancy was enriched by her Memory, Horatio enters with so great an haste, as discovered some great diligence to some supreme Commander; but when he arrived so near as to discern how privately she had retired, a reverend fear stops his progress, lest so sudden an Intrusion might disturb her Passions, which now lay at Anchor in a safe Haven of serene Thoughts: He stays so long till her Commands made him enter; on his Knees he presents her with a Packet from her Royal Father, the Contents of which (if it be possible that Love can groan under a greater Curse than Desperation) made her Sufferings infinitely more intolerable than the pencil of Fear could represent them: the Style was such, as that it did not altogether command nor entreat, but only declare his Royal Will and Pleasure, and the paternal Affection he bore to the safety of the Kingdom, which could no otherwise be confirmed but in an affinity with the Prince of Lacedaemon, the splendour of whose Name stood exalted on the highest pyramid of Honour: the neighbour Countries have bowed their servile Necks beneath his Sword, and now humbly offers both it and them at her Royal Feet; but too late did that second Mars bend his Forces to storm that fair Virgin Citadel, which she designed to surrender to a more lovely and powerful Commander.  
Long her confused thoughts hovered between fear and passion; her denial to her Royal Father must of Necessity incur his Displeasure; but to run counter to the Current of her own Love, would inevitably plunge her in the Ocean of Misery, and make her commence her Hell here by depriving her of her Heaven, her loved Horatio.  
Of all the Lords of the Court, Horatio was by the King thought the best and fittest to go this Embassy to the Prince of Lacedaemon: You cannot imagine with what Reluctancy and Grief the unhappy Horatio received his Order; but yet he resolved neither to prove disloyal to his Prince, nor a delinquent to his Love; he strove what in him lay to defer the Prince's Intentions; and pretending himself unworthy of the Honour he was pleased to confer on him, when many of a much higher Rank were disregarded. But this did not in the least divert the Intentions of his Royal Master; he thought him too worthy to bestow it on any other, and that the Words he had spoken were only the effects of his Modesty.  
But Love, Almighty-Love, made him thus struggle with his Duty: now he must go, and be exposed to the Hazards of the Ocean, and at last solicit another to be made miserable himself.  
But when the sweet Eromena knew this, that the only person she adored and loved was commanded to be her unhappy Solicitor, and that no means imaginable could hinder or prevent it, she retired into the secretest Arbour of the Garden, near which the perplexed Horatio retreated a little before to give some Vent to his Passions, and pass an hour away in condoling his Misfortunes, and the mischievous Honour conferred upon him▪ the Princess came too for the same Intent; and having seated herself in a very melancholy posture, began to recollect what fatal Consequence and Effects might attend their Separation.  
She was ever Mistress and Empress of her Passions till this Hour: never before now did she give Love the Reins, and vent her sorrowful Passions in such lamentable Tones: 'tis impossible to express what Raptures she breathed forth, how her very Soul went out with her Words, and were both drowned in their own Tears. Ah, Cruel Father! (said the languishing Princess) thus to rob me of the only Object of my Pleasure and Delight. My only Heaven upon Earth is in the Sight and Enjoyment of my dear Horatio; and my future Heaven would not be Heaven entire without him too. O Pleasures! Oh majestic Royalty! farewell, since he must go without whom all the Pleasures and Pomp's of Courts are dull and insipid. I ever before accounted Love but the blind Deity of a vulgar Error; but I find now, That the Voice of Mankind is the Voice of Heaven. No, Lacedaemonian! wert thou the Emperor, nay, God of the Universe, that hadst more Charms than Subjects, thou wouldst never be capable in the least to vie with my poor loved Horatio. 'Tis true, he is a Prince born high, fitted for Greatness, and created for Command; a Soul, as great as ever y●t informed an humane Body: yet, were he the poorest Subject, had he the same Virtues, by all the Powers above I should still have the same Love.  
Horatio (who had before absconded himself in an adjoining Arbour) with astonishment heard the passionate discoveries of the languishing Princess. She never discovered her Amour to him before but only in speaking Sighs, and the pleasing Rhetoric of extraordinary Looks: but now he heard the surprising Story from her own Lips, a sudden startling Joy presently seized him, but 'twas soon converted into a more startling Grief, because he was so soon to leave her: No, My▪ Eromena, before, I viewed thee with eyes of Wonder and Astonishment, (Burst forth Horatio in an ecstasy) and still I think thee the very Phoenix of Nature: Never was Sparta 'ere now blest with so great a prodigy of Virtue. With such an abrupt rhapsody of Words the transported Horatio presently discovered himself; and presently a shower of Blushes fell upon her fair Cheeks: Ah! Horatio (said she) what cursed Fate has hitherto attended us? What cross Stars shone at our Births, and had so ill an Influence upon both our Lives? I know not what of us is registered in the Book of Fate; but sure I am, (if my late Dream be true) the Gods have yet some greater Happiness in store for us. Horatio was as inquisitive as his Place and Condition would permit him, to know what it was. She who could deny nothing in honour to one whom she so dearly loved, gave a true Relation of her mysterious Dream. With Wonder he heard so strange a Story, and gathered very good Omens from its strange Conclusion. But still the fatal Worm gnawed within 'em both: Horatio's Departure was the Sting within 'em: he only expected the pleasure of his Prince when to depart; which not long after was brought to his Apartment by a Messenger, to have time of Preparation for three Days; in which space, he received Orders and Dispatches from his Royal Master for the Management of his Affair.  
The time was come, when the mournful Horatio took his leave of the King and Court to set Sail for Lacedaemon.  
But above all, the mutual Sighs and passionate Expressions of the Royal Lovers, were inexpressible: Rivers of Tears fell from her fair eyes; Grief, ineffable Grief, only permitted her to bid him adieu. Never a sinful Soul parted from a Body with more heavy Pangs and irresistible Reluctancy than these two almost despairing Lovers: all her Time and Thoughts were taken up and employed in Prayers to Heaven for his safe Arrival; nor was it in the least deaf or froward; the Rhetoric of her prevailing Oratory caused the kind Gods to convey him to his desired Port in two days. He was very nobly and magnificently conducted by the choice of all the Lacedaemonian Nobility to the Prince's Palace, where when he came, he found all the Court in a profound melancholy: a Cloud of Grief had drawn its fable Aspect over all their Faces. He wondered at first what it meant, but was soon acquainted by the Prince's Ministers, that their Royal Master lay very sick of a very dangerous Disease, and that there was very little Room left for of his Recovery.  
HORATIO immediately thought of the Royal Princess' Dream, and began impatiently to reflect on its Conclusion; when a Messenger the next Morning came to his Lodging, and acquainted him of the Death of the Lacedaemonian Prince: Horatio presently prepared to condole the loss of the Court in the Death of their Master: here the Fates proved very propitious to his Love; now he was assured that the Dream was more than humane, and not the vain Chimaeras of a troubled Fancy: he saw now, That even Dreams likewise are from above, and that Fate intended some extraordinary Revolution to make him happy by the Death of his too potent and formidable Rival.  
Presently he dispatches away Letters to the King his Master, to give him advice of the frustration of his Embassy by the Prince's Death. This News was very surprising to the King, who immediately thereupon dispatched Orders for his coming home. This likewise was soon known to the Royal Princess, who was now altogether so much transported with Joy, as she was before with grief. Every minute with Impatience she expected her wished Horatio: all her Thoughts ran on him; his Idea was always in her Fancy, as the only Object she adored and loved. He on the other side was no less ravished with the pleasing Remembrance of his former Misfortunes, and the eager expectation of the Society▪ and Converse of his Soul's Darling, the admired Eromena.  
No sooner had he received his Orders, but impatient of delay, he summons all his Retinue on Board, and with prosperous Sails in few days arrived at his wished for Haven. Now Love once more resumed it's proper Seat and Throne: all the Faculties of his Soul were now employed in its sublime Mysteries: nothing but the loved Society of his dear Eromena could content him; which he did not long securely enjoy, before some, too maliciously inquisitive into their Amours, envied their happiness, and discovered the whole Intrigue, and represented it too obscure and odious in the eyes of the King: at first he seemed very averse to every of the least Intimation of it; but then recollecting of what a noble and antique Extraction Horatio was, and how much he had deserved for his signal Services, began to be more calm and serene.  
Now the brave Horatio became a greater Favourite than ever, though the Princess for a while dissembled her Passion from the eyes of the Court; yet the King, to make him the more illustrious, still caressed him with new Favours, and honoured him with fresh Titles and new budding Glories. All the eyes of the Court were now set on him; they all knew his Worth, but wondered from what Source this Stream and Deluge of Honours might flow: they thought that this sudden Exaltation on the Wheel of Fortune was only to give him the greater Fall, and render his Ruin the more plain and obvious. They little considered that the Gods sell nothing to Men but only for Labour and Desert: and how great the Merits of Horatio were, his Royal Master sufficiently knew, and that all the Honours he could confer on him would not be in the least answerable, unless the inestimable Gift of his Royal Daughter.  
One day seeing her all alone, and pensive, he thus accosts her; My dear Eromena, I have often wondered that in the midst of a Palace, so fully fraught with Delights, and so great a Crowd of Pleasures, (where you are as much Mistress as I Master) you should so far abandon your Royal self, as wholly to be given up to Grief and Cares. This Posture, in this Place, must needs be much taken notice of; and I know not what cause you might have for such a Behaviour. You know, all the Pomp and Splendour of the Court attend your Beck, and that all the Laws of Nature constrain me (since my Life is bound up in yours) to give you all the Pleasures and Satisfaction imaginable.  
You need not, Sir, (said she) much admire at my Retiredness, (since the best of Princes are not free from the censorious Tongues of their Inferiors) I suppose Sir, (but I blush in the Relation) that the inquisitive Eyes, and the more envious Tongues of some, have represented the innocent, harmless Friendship of Horatio and Me in very dark and odious Characters. 'Tis true, Sir, I have seen such matchless Worth in that brave Stranger, that I cannot only love but admire him.  
As for his Merits (replied the Prince) I cannot in the least detract from them; but, you know that you are the only Heir to my Crown and Dignity, and that the only means to preserve them is by an Alliance with some foreign Prince.  
Oh Sir! (said she) is it possible to choose a stronger Prop for a Crown than the brave Horatio? Though he be but a Stranger at our Court, yet his Virtues deserve not to be a Stranger to a Crown. Pardon, Sir, the Excursions of my Passion, since I can no longer hide it: all the Happiness and Felicity I desire in this Life, is, that Horatio might be the sole Partner and Companion of it.  
The Prince knowing the several Inconveniencies that attend forced Marriage, and still ruminating on the Merits of the brave Horatio, confirmed her Choice, and praised her Constancy; and as soon as ever the Tide of Business that he was then cumbered with, was abated, he gave their Loves the wished-for Exit; where we now leave them; the Wonder and Glory of the present, and the best Example for future Ages to imitate.  
FINIS.   

ADVERTISEMENT.  
THere is lately published a satire, called Massinello, against the Association, and the Guild-Hall Riot. in Quarto.  
Also, a Pindaric Ode on the Martyrdom of King Charles I. By the same Author.  
In the Press there is an eminent Treatise, in Latin, concerning Free Will, in Opposition to the Calvinists against Predestination: which will be shortly published with the Author's Name.