CHOICE NOVELS, AND Amorous Tales, WRITTEN By the most Refined Wits OF ITALY.  
Newly translated into English.  
London, Printed by T.N. for Humphrey Moseley at the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1652.   

To the READER.  
THE Academici Incogniti are known to be of the best wits of Italy, who having published a Collection of their Novelle Amarose, easily persuaded a Gentleman, for his and thy divertisements to Translate some of the choicest; who is so far from being ashamed to be of the unknown, that 'tis his ambition; since the Illustrious Author, whose name thou shalt not be ignorant of glory's in the same Title, as Loredano, Pallavicino, etc. Boccace, and others, though they have written the same way before them, and have been universally received, may now give place and acknowledge themselves outgone. For the Subject, its Love, and so cannot but be grateful. Be but favourable, and enjoy in the reading but as much pleasure, as I am confident the Contrivers of them did in compiling them: And so farewell.   

A Table of the Novels, with the Names of the AUTHORS.  

OCtavio, the first Novel, written, by Signior Giovanni Croce Bianca.  
Aleria, the second Novel, by Signior Giovanni Francisco Loredano.  
Amasia, the third Novel, by the same Author.  
Leonora, the fourth Novel, written by Signior Pietro Pomo.  
Armidoro, the fifth Novel, written by Signior Girolamo Brusoni.  
Aurelia, the fixth Novel, written by Signior Giovanni Francisco Loredano.  
Niarpe, the seaventh Novel, by Signior Ferrante Pallavicino.  
Deadora, the eighth Novel, written by Signior Giovanni Francisco Loredano.  
Emilio, the ninth Novel, written by Signior Gio. Battista Fusconi.  
Limisinda, the tenth Novel, by Signior Gio. Battista Settimo.  
Irlando and Armando, the eleventh Novel, by Signior Ferrante Pallacino.  
Epidoro, the twelfth Novel, by Signior Gio. Francisco Loredano.    

OCTAVIO.  
NOVEL I.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Octavio finds an amorous correspondence in Florida, which his Father Odoardo perceiving, sends him to the University at Bologna: Horatio, Florida's Father in the mean time promiseth her in marriage to Don Fernando. The Lover being advertised, returns to Parthenope. They both confess their resolutions to their Fathers; whereupon Florida is imprisoned in a Monastery where her sister Bellaria was, who deceiving Octavio, instead of Florid, was ravished by Fernando, whose wife she became; as also Florida did Octavo ' s.  
PARTHENOPE being one of the principal Cities of Italy, enjoys a Heaven which is always so clement, that its neither vexed with the excesses of the Frosts in Winter, nor of the heats of the Summer: She kindly affords the Tyrene Sea her breasts, who being not ingrate makes profitable returns, and enricheth her with pleasures: Plenty feasts at all times in the fields of its territory, and delight, triumphs in such a manner, that Heaven, the Sea, and the Earth seem rivals in rendering this City beyond others incomparably wonderful. It's inhabited by very tractable people, yet cunning and of a quick wit for invention; It breeds a many Cavaliers, amongst whom one of the first was called Octavio Franci a noble man, conspicuous for wealth, and illustrious for his valour and person: He as the only One was brought up with carresses, which usually disposeth minds to the love of luxury, whence he hardly had completed his third lustre, but he submits himself to the Tyranny of Love. Florida Albinelli dwelled near his house, a Lady of a great birth, but of a slender fortune; her father loving appearance more than reality, having vainly consumed those riches which maintain titles and dignities. Florida was as liberally privileged by nature, as she was hardly persecuted by Fortune; She had such beauties, that the attributes of celestial and divine seemed rather proper than Hyperbole. With these prerogatives she daily acquired such a number of Suitors as Penelope never had so many wooers: Neither could any other Egyptian Lady boast of more lovers: but amongst the crowd of her servants none was more passionate, and more hearty than our Octavio. He a long while courted her as a neighbour, & then beholds her as the Paradise of his eyes, but at last she proves a hell to his mind, observing himself to be equally happy in beholding her, and tormented by desiring her. They legitimate their loves amongst themselves with promises of marriage: so that sense being incapable of a bridle to restrain it, raised them in a short time to a very high passion. Octavio frequented more than usually a Chamber which overlooked Florida's Chamber, where he often waited as full of thoughts, as he was often full of grief; yet he never missed an occasion, seeing her appear on the Balcony, silently to signify his affection to her, neither did she forbear watchfully to receive it with pleasure, but her discretion feigned it unawares, for that civility did not oblige her to show herself perverse: a thousand times was he about to speak to her, but never durst; possessed with a youthful bashfulness, at last after a great contest with himself he let fly a letter, the blackness of the ink hiding the blushes of his modesty: The letter succeeded well, since Florida gladly received it, graciously read it, and answered it (appearing at the window) with a kind smile; 'twas a lamp which like St. Hermo's fire cheered Octavio's heart, which beat on the Sea of his affection, whence taking a good omen he began easily to hope for the calm of his contentment: being fully pleased with a devout acknowledgement, he thanks his goddess who so kindly consolated him, the nearness of the dwelling so fully favouring him, to make himself readily understood. She already caught with the good qualities of Octavis, perceived herself to be a lover, before she knew she was so cordially loved, neither did she want the will to make it appear, so that from their mutual correspondence both their affections increased unmeasurably. The Lady gave way to the words of Octavio, she (having put by all other respects) received them the more gratefully, the more endearing they were. They vowed matrimony together with a mutual consent. Octavio thereby getting a glorious Alliance, and to Florida accrued the hopes of a great fortune. Besides they both begged Heaven for a happy conclusion of their Nuptials. When Odoardo (for so was Octavio's father called) observed his son's flames, which as its ordinary for young men, were hotter than they were wary. He greatly disdained it, not that she displeased him for his daughter in law, but that he was afraid of her parents, who from her Cradle had designed her for another. Yet without seeming to take notice of any of his son's practices, that he might not oblige himself to resent it unto him, he commands him to make ready to transfer himself to terminate his commenced studies at Bollogna.  
The Father hoping that Pallas being industrious, would there unloose that knot which had by Venus been knit in Parthenope. This paternal decree was a fatal blow to Octavio, who already conceived his departure as the passage from life to death: He afflicts himself, sighs, laments, curseth his Fortune, his studies, even his Father's Genius, finds a thousand excuses to delay his journey, but they nothing prevailed since our Lover must obey. Florida remained astonished at the news of this sad separation, and then burst forth into so high a resentment of grief which the tenderness of a Woman, and the folly of a lover could possibly suggest. She with a good will would have followed him, had she not feared to have ruined him by the ruins of herself in repute and honour: Yet she remained like the Heliotrope, altogether mortified, when the Evening divorceth it from the Rays of the Sun. Octavio being gone, who went away immerced with grief, bathing with his tears the earth he stamped on with his feet. Being arrived at Bologna, in the pleasing quiet of Letters, he finds the war of his affections still the more cruel; whence he concludes it false, That absence cures the infirmity of love. His own thoughts became his executioners, always martyrising him with the memory of his so much regretted felicity, than which nothing was more dear. The Lectures and Scholastic Conferences so grateful to the virtuous, to him who was oppressed with grief, and whose soul was in an agony, seemed like Funeral Songs, and study appeared truly the sepulture of the living. He tasted not the Nectar of Wisdom, since spirits weakened by dissoluteness, usually suffer the disrelish of all good things. He then remained in Bologna, and though in appearance he frequented the Schools, yet in effect he heard the Masters as an Asp, and profited like a stock: He lived a Scholar in name only amongst students without study, idle at their exercises, and so desperate that he even lost his life in that place where others render it immortal with the glory of Learning. Octavio was at last in the midst of so many afflictions, consolated by Fortune, who by the hands of certain Merchants caused his Father's liberality to fall into his hands, converted into showers of gold. So that being richly provided with money, he ravisheth himself to Parthenope to visit his Florida, the sweet cause of his cruel torments. Being arrived unknown without going to his Father, he so order the business, that she hath notice of his arrival, so that through the favourable darkness of the night, he came to adore her at a little window of her house. It's superfluous to relate the Compliments which past, or how many tears were shed out of tenderness, since any man knows what affections an unthought-of accident will raise in two hearts tenderly loving one the other, and so long tormented with such longing desires to review one another. But these pleasures lasted but a few nights, for that Octavio refused treacherously to tempt his Fortune, having already experimented, that with velocity she turns her wheel in felicity, but slowly in time of misery. He therefore parts burdened himself by this his new departure with new griefs, and being scarce come to Bologna, and having hardly furnished himself with necessaries, that the business might not be discovered, he retakes his journey back again to Parthenope. So that for the space of a whole year he alternatively travelling and resting, lived betwixt torments and contentments. The year being almost at an end, Octavio being at Bologna, falls sick of a Fever; which though it was without danger, yet was long, and many great perplexities of mind befell him, because it diverted him from his journey. In the mean time Horatio (for so was Florida's father called) concludes her marriage with Don Fernando Marquis of Tuedos, she having been from her infancy designed for him: He was of Arragon descended from Dukes, a Cavalier of a small Fortune, of great parentage, and for pretences at all. He presumed that he had a greater wealth then truly he possessed, that he was more valiant than indeed he was, and yet more Gentile than he seemed; of a short stature, of a proud port, of a brown complexion, and lame; so that to give the fair Florida to Fernando, was the same thing as afresh to grant a Venus to a Vulcan. This was the Bridegroom which Horatio had prepared not to accommodate his daughter, but to advantage himself in the Court of Castille. Cursed interest! cruel and perverse Numen! which necessitates men to sacrifice even their own children unto you. Florida having heard the conclusion of the marriage, became sad, yet seemed pleased to her Father, and dispensed tears, which seemed of joy, but were of grief. After a day she feigns herself ill, and begs that all public or private solemnity might be suspended till her recovery. In the mean time she dispatcheth a Letter to Octavio, which included this following sense.  
My Lord;  
MY Father's authority forceth me to break my faith with you, to violate my genius, and to be no more yours. He hath promised me to the Marquis Don Fernando a Cavalier, whom I wish a Monarch, that I might show myself the more constant to you by despising a Regal match for your sake. I fear my father's Anger will become murderous, when I shall have discovered him our loves: Therefore come my Octavio, but come quickly to see your Florida, who is inmoveably disposed either to live with you, or die for you. Come and hear my mournful Nenias instead of Epithalamium. And to see how contentedly I shall go to my grave, if Fate consents not to join me to your bed. Remember yourself then, my Lord, (if I shall see you no more) of your oaths and of our mutual affections, and live happy, since what ever happens, I shall be sure to die  
Your most faithful FLORIDA.  
THis Letter was an enchantment which would have ravished Octavio out of Hell aswel as from his bed. He who already was bettered in his health risen assoon as he had read it, and no sooner got to horse, but away for Parthenope, guided by fury and accompanied with despair. Sometimes with a raging heart he wished himself alive only to be revenged of his Rival, and sometimes with a desperate voice he begged Heaven to thunderstrike him, that he might not see Florida either subject to death, or Fernando's Spouse. But Fortune, which equally preserves both fools and desperate persons, happily brings this unhappy man to Parthenope; being arrived at his Father Odoardo's house; and before he lighted from his horse having seen the fair Florida appear at the Balcony, he salutes her with a joy mixed with grief of heart, as ignorant whether he honoured her as his own, or as the spouse of another man. Fortune would have it so, he finds his Father's house without his Father, who was newly parted for some Domestic occasion, whereby he had the opportunity to speak from his wont apartment to his dearest, who thereby testified inexplicable signs of contentment. The first compliment past, she confirms him the great danger of her life, how far greater her faith was, and that towards him her affection was supreme: She also added, my Octavio did you know with how much satisfaction for your sake I shall encounter death, perhaps without swearing you will believe me, that I pretend not thereby the least jot of merit towards you. So that if your civility in its own respect, affords me any power over you, I will not that it should extend itself farther than to beg of you that you should never suffer grief to afflict you, for whatever fatal accidents happen to me: Forasmuch as if the knowledge of the actions of the living is granted to the dead, believe me, that your torments will for ever be my hell. Octavio was violenced with so sensible an affection; but proffering an answer, he was hindered by his Father's arrival. So that he parted readily to meet him: Odoardo tenderly embraced his son, which being with excess it shall suffice to speak, it was fatherly: He doubly rejoiced to see his son recovered of his fever, and believing him wholly cured of his amorous passions, he esteemed himself the happiest that lived. Unsatisfied with kissing him, and ask him of his health and journey, related him the news of the City, amongst which he told him he was in good time come to enjoy the Festivals which were preparing for the marriage of Florida. Truly, Sir, answered Octavio, in the house of Horatio you perhaps may sooner see a Funeral then a Bridal; and thereupon discovered the whole success of his love, Florida's resolution, with his own intention to enjoy her, to the venture of his life and honour. The Father was astonished at so strange a relation, and bold a proposition, being afterwards quite enraged, he went about beating the ground with his feet, and wring his hands. Patience (exclaims he) O Fortune! I myself in begetting a son have provided myself an instrument of mortification to afflict me. Which having said, he retires himself into another Chamber, leaving Octavio alone in great confusion. If Odoardo's distemper were great, the fury of Horatio that very night was fare greater, forasmuch as Florida having been as much inspired by the presence of Octavio, as she had been disheartened by his absence, boldly confessed her amorous escapes. But what above measure enraged his paternal mind, was her sixth resolution never to have Fernando for her Husband. Horatio at that instant would have run her through, had he not thought to have pleased her, when she with artificial tears begged of him, rather to give her into the hands of Death, then into the Spaniards. He afterwards railed on her with a thousand injuries, and threatened to correct her as a Girl; but the remedy appeared too vulgar for so desperate a case, so that he the more laboured with disdain, by reason he found no means to qualify it. He consumed all the night in studying vengeance, which is the legitimate child of fury, and the illegitimate satisfaction of a generous spirit. The following day which succeeded this troubled night, he imprisons Florida in a Cloister, yet in the same where was her sister Bellaria, who was in time to be made a Nun, and be obedient to that vocation which her Father's avarice and cruelty had inspired. Octavio having heard the news of her imprisonment, he could neither retain his tears, nor remit his grief: The counsel of his friends, nor the prayers of his parents, were sufficient to consolate him, so that his unhappy Father confidently believed that his son's health would shipwreck on the rock of despair, yet did he not forbear to persuade him to desist from that passion with well-seasoned admonitions of wisdom; but he well perceived he had sown salt, since he reaped no fruit. Fernando on the other side rampant with rage, swore to be revenged of Octavio, threatens murders, marshals defies, and challenges Duels; but in such a manner, that that fury which ought to appear in action, vanished in words, imitating Heaven, which the more it thunders, it intends the less to lighten. Horatio who had truly bound the hopes of his advantages with the bond of this Marriage, seeing them fled away to his loss, in tends his revenge, providing a bravo snare to murder Octavio. But wiser advice restrained him, persuading him to make use of dissimulation, which is the ordinary net wherein without noise we may ensnare our enemies. Having therefore feigned it fit for him to change air, by reason of an accustomed indisposition which befell him, he parts from Parthenoye, having for a while suspended his intentions. In the mean time Odoardo, that he might not lose his son, who was already fallen into a high fit of melancholy, resolved to lose himself with him, promising all his endeavours for the success of his desires. With these promises Octavio respires again from his troubles, and having already provided himself of armed men to attend him, he gins to walk about the City, Fortune leads him to the encounter of Fernando, who at that time stirred not at all, whether it was that the poor Cavalier had forgot the oaths he had sworn, to be revenged, or that he remembered that Oaths of doing ill are not obligatory. Octavio thus seeing himself victorious without Fight, puts by all suspicion, and gins to frequent the Monastery of Florida, using a feigned Devotion, as if his Object were Idolatry, not Adoration. There he daily entertained himself to see the fair Prisoner, but she appeared not, being guarded by her Superiors; so that the miserable man would willingly have changed his Nature with that of the Lynx, so as he might have gotten Eyes whose looks would pierce the walls which hide his Fairest from Him. At last having tempted much, and desired more that he might but be introduced to speak with Bellaria, who being as 'twas thought within a while to be a Nun, had liberty to appear at the Grate to take her leave of the World: Octavio relates the series of his Love, and with so much passion exagerates his Affections, that the Maid was forced to show herself pitiful, lest she should discover Herself inhuman. She was of such corrected Manners, that she rather would have chosen death, than to engage Herself in an action any ways dishonest. Yet she thought that to serve Octavio in his Love, was the same thing as to serve Justice itself; since Florida appeared due to Him who had purchased her with so many Pearls of his Tears and Sweat. So that she modestly offers it; protesting. That it was as detestable for her to have Fernando for her brother-in-Law, as he was abominated by Florida for a Husband.  
Octavio thanks her, darting forth by a treacherous Joy a most affectionate sense of the obligation, but confused He then begs her to kiss for him his Florida's Hand; which being readily executed by Her, gave our Lover means afterward to trust her with his Letters, Ambassies, and Presents to her Sister.  
The curious Inquisitiors of Parthenope, discoursed the reasons of Florida's Imprisonment, to the wonder of all, and delight of those, who (always making an ill interpretation of other men's actions) use the least occasion they can to give cause of speaking ill, and to divulge Satyrs. But the common Friends of HORATIO and OCTAVIO, perceiving that there was a fire kindling betwixt the two Families, which without blood could not be quenched, thought to suppress it at its birth. Whereupon they wrote to Horatio, obliging him to return far sooner than he intended; and being come, they calmly treated a Reconciliation, and Horatio although He were very perverse was at last content. So as Octavio would renounce Florida to Fernando, & in her stead take Bellaria to Wife. The Party was proposed to Octavio, who discovering nothing, seemed well satisfied, as the only way whereby he hoped to release his Lady out of her Prison. The peace was thus concluded, and the Weddings appointed by the false promises of the Lover, who deferred not to come according to his Custom to the Monastery, to acquaint Florida with his incorrupted Faith; delivers a Letter to Bellaria; she, who was already advised of his promises upon the Treaty of Peace, believed herself to be his Spouse, denies the Delivery, desiring him to excuse her, for she resolved to serve him hereafter no longer then under the notion of his Wise. Octavio sighed, and esteemed himself unhappy at the news, but laments Florida as more unfortunate, believing herself betrayed, and supposing herself scorned by an Idolatrous Lover. Wherefore he despaired as one without a Remedy, forasmuch as 'twas impossible for him to speak with his cruel Dear, and to write to her was denied him by Bellaria, who was already become her Rival, diffident and jealous of her.  
Being thus at a loss, she went about the Cloisters, bewailing her desperate hopes, and cursing her own Fortune which had induced her to preserve her Life for so ungrateful a Person, and so long to lose her Liberty: But above all, the memory of her Octavio most of all tormented her; Dear, although she even esteemed him a Traitor. Fernando was then at Rome, when the reconcilement was made, which nevertheless was treated with his consent: So that when all men expected the solemnising of the Weddings, Octavio freely frequented Bellaria with his Visits, still importuning her with entreaties to induce her to favour him as she had formerly towards Florida. Nevertheless Bellaria resisted the temptation, for as much as her interest rendered her constant, although even she was a Woman. But at last, when she saw she could not with hers, resist the others perseverance, she changed her resolution; whence being become kind, she afresh carries his salutes to her sister, embassies and letters: the lover sweetly respired in this calm of fortune, which lasted no longer than the coming of Fernando to Parthenope; who being come, Bellaria in all haste sends for Octavio, and tells him; that Florida in despite of fortune, being resolved to have him only for her husband, prayed him to expect her that night near the gate of the Convent, for that she resolved that very night to fly away with him. The glad Lover, as any man may imagine, as he who had long expected happily to reap the fruits of his pains, parted, having trusted his design to a confident servant of his, with whom that night he comes to his determined post.  
It happened that Fernando that very day arrived in Town (the same which Bellaria had appointed) who had not visited his spouse, being hindered by Domestic affairs, and diverted by a kinsman, who forcibly led him away with him to dinner, and detained him even the supper; it being then late, and having taken leave of his kinsman; so that to guard himself from the sinister encounters of the night, for his own security he had with him a train of armed servants: His way necessarily was by this Convent, so that seeing Octavio stand  near the gate, he knew him, but was undiscovered by him: and then imgining that he stayed there for some amorous booty; he curious to know the truth, to that end watcheth behind the corner of the wall: He had not long with great silence expected, when he hears the door opened, and advancing a step or two he sees Octavio, who was coming away with the Lady; when with a raging fury having unsheathed his sword, he assails him treacherously, pursues him, so that the miserable man was forced to forsake his prey, that he might not lose his life. Fernando being very well pleased with the victory, follows his way being highly obliged by fortune who had brought him so happily to be revenged of his rival, by ravishing his pretended spouse, even out of his arms. But being come home, holding the Lady by the hand, who sad and pensive went along with him, he saw by the light of a torch, that he handed a deceit, forasmuch as it was Bellaria and not Florida which ne had gotten. He was astonished! Changed countenance! And with disdain having demanded the reason of her which obliged her to fly; She answered, That finding herself despised by Octavio, contrary to the obligation of his promise, she had endeavoured to gain by deceit what was denied her by his rigid obstinacy; whereupon she feigned herself the beloved Florida, and so was flying away with him. Fernando then answers, Madam, Revenge yourself once more of your despiser by despising him; and since Fortune hath given you, as a prey, into my hands, do you make a prey of me, binding me with the bonds of marriage and matrimonial faith: Bellaria thanked him, and (being uncertain of Octavio's life, and fearful to remain without a husband) she soon grants his offer, and the same night concludes the wedding, although without her Father's consent. Octavio on the other side being full of gref, and the fright being over, he finds his body without wounds, but his mind was doubly transfixd with jealousy & shame. What furies that night tormented him, his resolution may witness, which was to fly from Parthenope, that he might behold that heaven no more which had been so cruel to him in his loves: Florida, even she also having understood of her sister's departure, was already grown wild, holding it for undoubted that she was fled with her disloyal Octavio; So that abominating the fallacies and treacheries of this world, she resolved with herself to abandon it, and to become a Nun, and willingly would that very night have cut off her hair, but that the action required a public solemnity; but the succeeding day banished those shadows, from both Lovers, stopped their grief, and bridled their resolutions; the fame of the deceit being rumoured about the City, and withal of Fernando's Nuptials: Horatio to whom it equally imported to gain Fernando for his son in law, aswel by Bellaria's as Florida's means, was nothing moved at that night's accident: but accommodating himself to the necessity, granted Octavio his long lamented, and dearly beloved Florida; so that both Marriages were joyfully Solemnised. And Fate witnessed in the person of Octavio, that by unknown ways she directs Men to the acquest of those felicities, whereto they could never aim by the Conduct of humane prudence.   

ALERIA.  
NOVEL II.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Aleria being  to the prayers and services of the Marquis Arderico, was persuaded only to love him, by her husband's commendations. The Marquis on the other side, as he was going to reap the fruit of his Love; being assured thereof by her, leaves off his design.  
IN the noble City of Vicenza, amongst other Ladies which ravished the Eyes and Hearts of all Men, the beauty of Aleria, descended from the Counts of Malo, was singular amongst the rest, so that she gave way neither to flattery nor Envy. The fairest Fair yielded to the Charms of that Face which would have been believed Divine, and adored with continued devotions, had it not glorified her Humanity; So that being pretended to by those who despaired of gaining her; she obeying only those affections which yield only to desert, marries with the Count of Sancta Croce, who both by birth and Virtue was chief amongst the greatest. He had no Conditions, but those which were desirable; neither had He any thing in him which did not beget admiration.  
The Wedding was celebrated with as much solemnity as was requisite for their Nobility and Wealth. Those who in the common Joy lamented the Funerals of their own Hopes, did not forbear to come to the Wedding: They in the Joys of another saw their own Sorrows; Music and Dancing which have the power to ravish Hearts, even out of the hands of Melancholy itself, could not sweeten the Grief of those Minds which even lost the hopes of Life with the beauty of Aleria. Many submitting to the Laws of Necessity, according to the variety of their genius, when they could not resist their own affection, they dedicated it to other objects. Others knowing that their eyes were the instruments of their pleasure, would also oblige them to be the Messengers of the longing desires of their hearts. Some flew from that heaven, where the Sun shone but in favours of others; Others observing the precepts which the art of Love's remedy prescribes, they observed a heaven of beauty in her looks, which could not be without shadows. Arderico only the Marquis of Castel-Novo in the impossibility of the undertaking enlivening the more his hopes found in that day's solemnity, his flames increased, where others had found the remedy of their passion: He did I believe, stupefied with grief, assist at all the ceremonies, imitating the Fly, who to enjoy the light careth not to lose its own life. He suffers this torment with so much impatience, that his least dote were to forget himself. The feast ended, he found his fire more inflamed, absence from the beloved object exstinguisheth not love, but foments it. This Arderico proved his ardour being so much the more violent, when he could not recreate himself with the fight of his Aleria. She on the other side, so Idolised her husband's countenance with such continued demonstrations, that any hope would have despaired, but that of Arderico which was vowed to obstinacy. The more he was despised, the more he loved; He let slip no occasion to discover his wound; He being continually in her sight, assaulted her with sighs, and begged pity from her with his looks.  
In fine, following her every where, and waiting diligently upon her at the ball; no accident happened which he did not signalise with some show of respect and testimony of love.  
Aleria not believing, or not caring to be loved, never regarded him but with indifferent looks. And although the obligations of civility forced her to return him the favour of the ball, and to correspond by way of salutes, yet, did she never privilege his affection with the least token of acceptance; Arderico haveing no other means to insinuate his love into Aleria's mind, had recourse to the benefit of his pen; with much trouble he dictates this Letter his tears even washing away his ink.  
Fairest;  
I Should fear to deserve the rigours of your disdain, by discovering my flames, did I not know that all hearts are obliged to the love of divine things. The rays of your beauty have introduced such a fire in my breast, that I should rather think it an effect of stupidity then of virtue. Aleria, I love you, and if the laws of love were as powerful as those of Religion; I would say I adore you. But what the pen silenceth the heart licenceth, so as you will not disdain the obsequiousness of  
Your most humble servant ARDERICO.  
The letter being sealed, he sighs for the means how it might be securely conveyed to Aleria's hands. The servants although they were all gained by the excess of his liberalty durst not assault their Lady's affections, so much the chaster, for as yet she gave no leave to be tempted. To use other persons, might prove both scandalous and dangerous, so that he resolves to be himself the bearer: Having fitted a day when she was at Church, perhaps more prayed to then praying; getting near her, cheating the suspicion and observation of many, he puts his note in Aleria's Offices, when she casually had laid them behind her, to intent her mental private prayers. No body was ware of it. Aleria herself, although she took up her Offices, did not presently perceive it. Scarce did she find it, but she was presently overtaken with blushing, more disdained against herself, that she had given the boldness to any man to tempt her, then that she was displeased at the temptation. The prudence of this Lady knew well that she did not deserve the name of chaste, who did not resist the flatteries of Lovers; whoever is chaste out of necessity is unworthy the title. Aleria having quieted her mind from the first confusions, which had stolen the blood from her heart, and had left the Characters on her face: when she thought it fit overcoming her curiosity, which is natural to women, she tears the letter in a thousand pieces, as if that had been guilty of the fault, which his audacity deserved who had given it her. Ar. derico felt his own heart torn in pieces, with the tearing of the letter, despairing ever after of any invention, whereby he might make known his affection. He was lost in a confusion at her behaviour, who being adored, not only took it ungratefully, but seemed as if she would not know her adorer; yet the miserable man continues his servitude so much the more unhappy, as his hopes were far from their reward. It so happened that Aleria accompanied with her husband retires to a Villa to enjoy that season, which bearing more fruit than the rest, flatters with the more pleasure the gust of men: Arderico who was this Suns Heliotrope, follows her, not without hope that the pleasures of the Villa might bring him to what he was debarred off by the divertisement of the Town; he thought more easily to corrupt the people of the Villa; the minds of men being the more vile, the more they are interested. He was seen to come thither, but he gins to go the round about Aleria's house, feigning to plant nets to catch birds, and to hunt wild beasts; Whilst his heart was in the nets of love, and continually disturbed with the sense of his own passions. One day being carried either by chance or choice, he enters her Palace, pretending the recovery of a Hawk which he had lately set off his fist. The Count of Sancta Cr●ce, Aleria's husband, receives him with all kind of civility usual amongst Cavaliers; after having commanded his servants to look after the flight of the Hawk, he leads Arderico to his wife; I can say nothing of this encounter, but I remit it to your imagination; its sufficient that Arderico blushed, grew pale again, sweat, and freezed at the same time: He with a courteous violence was constrained to eat some fruit; but whilst his eyes fed on those beloved beauties, all other food was noisome. At last having recovered his Hawk, after some Compliments he parts with a greater passion than he brought: He never saw Aleria's looks so favourable, neither had he so experienced her so officious as then: Aleria being pleased with the fashion of Arderico, demands of her husband the Cavalier's name, who had deserved from him such a friendly treat. The Count smiled at the proposition, and says, What do you not know Arderico, the Marquis of Castel-Novo? Is it possible you should be so blind to the splendours of the Sun; Pardon me, if you trouble me not, passing by a subject so worthy to be known; one must necessarily judge, that your heart is hard, or your mind deviated, since you want eyes to know the deserts of such a Cavalier. Perfection, which in all other things regrets its wants, in this Lord all wishes are at full. Who with an unerring prudence causeth those to love, who even should hate him with a disinterested strength, never arms himself but in favour of what is just, with a moderation of practice he hath overcome envy: In fine he hath no equal in arms, no superior in letters, and in Nobility is without a fellow; he enjoys all privileges of the Mind and of Fortune; there is no Lady in Vicenza, who would not believe her beauty fortunate, were she honoured but with a look from that noble Cavalier; do not show yourself so careless in knowing the prerogatives of others, if you will have me have worthy thoughts of you. Aleria coldly excuseth herself, repenting in her own heart, that she had so long passed by the service of a man, who for his singular conditions deserved the affections of all: Being thus filled with his praise, she grows so fervently in love with Arderico, that she quite rebels against the laws of honesty. That honesty which could not be overcome by a continued obsequiousness, which awed the persuasions of her servants, and repugned the treacheries of her lover, the combats of sense, and the power of love, now postitutes itself to ordinary words, betrayed by his tongue who should have guarded it: That heart which could not be fully vanquished by the eyes, finds itself betrayed by the ears: Carried thus away with the furies which agitate the mind of one in love. The Count being called to Vicenza by the necessity of some affairs, she signs a paper with these Characters.  
Marquis ARDERICO;  
IF the demonstrations of your affection do not deceive the boldness of my desires, I resolve to hazard myself, that I may serve you; I must condemn so precipitate a resolution, but I desire reality, since my crime makes me yours; I would say more, but Love being a child cannot speak. At three this night I shall expect you in my Chamber near the Garden Gate, which you shall find open; consolate therefore with your presence  
Your most devouted servant ALERIA.  
She sends the letter by a girl whom she had exceedingly obliged, so that she no ways misdoubted her fidelity. She brings it to Arderice, who believing it the deceit of a dream, knew not what to answer. But at last he takes his pen and writes these words.  
Beloved ALERIA,  
I Should thank that benignity which hath enriched the poverty of my hopes, if divine favours did not rather oblige silence, than the return of thanks. I shall according to your appointment at three this night, sacrifice my heart to you; I am glad 'tis at night, the night magnifying all things, will perhaps greaten the smallness of my being, besides that in the dark the nakedness of my merit will pass undiscerned: Yet you may please to esteem me, what I am.  
Your most devouted and unboiveled Servant ARDERICO.  
Having dispatched the letter, he gins to long for the night, with those amorous desires which usually tyrannize lovers. He suffers not the appointed hour to pass one minute, but he moves presently to Aleria's house; Carresses and Compliments are remitted to the consideration of those who have been subject to the like accidents. Aleria was already got to bed, expecting the amorous wrestler to quench those desires which torment the minds of Lovers. Arderico ashamed to see her prevent him, gins quickly to unclothe himself; Whilst with an amorous impatience he pulls off his clothes, he demands the reason of Aleria, why after so many disdains against the proofs of his affection, she so unexpectedly condescended to his desires, at that very time, when he had resigned all his pretences to despair: My life answered Aleria, the praises of your merit so lively expressed by the tongue of my husband, did in such a manner wound my soul, that without having been yours, I believe I could not have lived; And thereupon relates all what her husband had spoken of him: Then replies Arderico, neither my affection, nor my service had the power to violence your heart, had not the Count your husband's voice by the sound of my praises enchanted your mind. 'Tis very true replies Aleria; God forbidden then says Arderico, re-aparelling himself, God forbidden that I should do an injury to him who favoured me with such worthy Characters, that I should violence the chastity of one most truly noble: Aleria, pardon me, I cannot prejudice his honour, who by his praises increaseth the merit of my condition. Having said so, he readily goes out of the Chamber, teaching worthy men by this action the bounds of true gentility; To husbands, that they ought not to fill their wife's ears with the commendation of other men; and instructing women, especially the married, not to trust the affections of man, who by the least occasion, may be in a moment changed.   

AMASIA.  
NOVEL III.  
The ARGUMENT.  
The Countess of castle Novo upon an urgent occasion of hers, hath recourse to the Marquis Oliverio, who was desperately in love with her, for her supply, which having obtained: with a handsome cheat in the darkness of the night, she saves her own honour, and satisfies the indiscretion of the Marquis.  
IN a City of Alexandria della Paglia, situate on the confines of Montferrat, was a generous Lady, whom I shall title Countess, who was so singular for beauty, that she caused love in all the men, and envy in all the women that beheld her. The contentment Lovers received to see those admirable graces in her countenance, they paid withusury, by the loss of their liberty. In fine, this Sun blinded hearts, no less than eyes, and he was rather esteemed stupid then prudent who could escape so sweet a Tyranny, and he was called sacrilegious, who sacrificed not his heart to the Idol of her Beauty. This treasury of Nature's richness was possessed by way of matrimony by the Count of Castel-Novo, a Cavalier endued with all the favours which Fortune could dispense, or Virtue merit. But he was thought not much beloved by the Countess, because he commonly was abroad in Prince's Courts, or in the wars, excercising himself in arms more than in love: Which was easily believed by the desires of many, who thought to subdue that Fort, which was only guarded with beauty, which was easily to be corrupted with presents, or overcome by the violence of services and entreaties, but they soon found themselves deceived, finding such opposition from the virtue and shamefacedness of the Lady, that some were forced quite to abandon the undertaking; others to raise the siege, and others to expect occasion, which is the daughter of time; only the Marquis Oliverio, the first amongst the proudest, both for Wealth and Nobility, abated nothing of his resolutions. But followed the assault with so much the greater ardour, by how much the more desperate he thought the Victory: He had overcome denials, repulses, and disdains, which instead to extinguish, made the fire of his heart still the greater: And although he hoped for no further advance in conquering the pudicity of that Lady, yet did he omit no means possible, which might make him deserve the title of a true Lover, since he could not prevail to be loved again; and so much the more, for that with gifts he had possessed himself of the good will of all those who served her, so that the poor Lady's ears were continually besieg'd with this Cavaliers praises, the whole Family being never weary of celebrating his valour; sometimes his birth, his bounty, his wealth, his person, and his magnanimity. And although these commendations being often repeated, moved her to admire such rare qualities, yet this obliged her to no other love, but that which virtue begets in a noble breast: But what Oliverio could not achieve with all his love, treacheries; he still did believe that in process of time a moment of Fortune would gain. The Countess had a young brother, and rich, which is sufficient to speak him insolent; There was no scandalous business in the City wherein he shared not, or was not principal; night which brings rest and quiet even to the insatiable fury of wild beasts disquieted him, than he usually went about the City offending equally all he met: but ill actions brings at last to a just punishment; when one night he would by force have entered the house of a Lady of honour, and already began to use violence on the doors and windows; whereupon being taken prisoner, by four Companions he had neither time nor boldness enough to resist; the threats wherewith he had also injured the Lady having also raised the neighbourhood against him. His imprisonment was no sooner known, but bills were so multiplied against him, that his life was even called in question. The Countess who loved him as being her brother, and could not endure to see him suffer a public punishment, having no money in a readiness, quickly procured from certain Merchants 1000 pistols, giving them the best part of her jewels in pawn; with this money she so deals with the Lord Governor, whose eyes being blinded with the splendour of the Gold, looked justice like. The young man with his Companions escapes by the conivence of the Commander, who fearing lest his avarice should be discovered, would have the guilty fly far away, to estrange those testimonies which might convince the Judge of guilt. The Countess enjoyed not much by her brother's deliverance, having received a letter from her husband which reduced her to despair; the Count commanding her that without delay she should with all her costliest apparel come to Milan, to wait on the Imperatrix, who was hourly expected to pass there. The poor Lady being agitated with many thoughts, knew not what resolution to take, which might neither be dishonourable, nor dangerous. To go to Milan without her Jewels which are so requisite in such occasions, it would very much have prejudiced the reputation of her greatness: To discover the freeing of her brother she could not without incurring her husband's anger, there being betwixt them particular digusts. After many things which floated about in her mind, she forceth her heart to the law of necessity; and taking her pen, she writes these Characters.  
Marquis OLIVERIO.  
SHould I say I did not love you, truly, I should lie, since the confidence I have in you, acknowledgeth itself the legitimate daughter of Love. I love you Marquis Oliverio, and so that with the blushes of my reputation, I have recourse to your favour. I want a thousand Pistols to release my Jewels, being obliged to go for Milan to wait on the Emperatrice; if you can furnish me till my return, my heart shall oblige it self to you by a perpetual correspondence. But Cavaliers like you move, but with gentleness, and then what can be promised from that heart, which till now was awed with the opinion of the World, and a Nuptial Faith; Besides, I assure myself that the greatness of you spirit will not disdain to give me leave to be  
Your most devouted servant. AMASIA.  
The letter being sealed she caused a Staffeer to carry it to the Marquis, feigning as if it had been sent from her Husband, unwilling by obliging any to silence, to venture herself on the fidelity of her servants. Oliverio had scarce looked over the paper, but he thought himself deluded by a dream. He could scarce believe himself, so much the greater a felicity, as it was less hoped for. His consolation was so great that confining with grief it fetched tears from his eyes. His first disturbance being past, in which a Man within himself is out of himself; he answers after this manner.  
Madam,  
I Would have the possession of a thousand souls, aswel as I have of a thousand pieces, that I might satisfy them all to pleasure you; I ought truly to thank you for the honour you do me, desiring with so much sweetness what is yours; but the confusion of my heart is so great, that I cannot express its joy, nor its obligations but by silence: Yet I rejoice with myself that you are pleased to cement my faith with gold, and so much the more, for that desiring the riches of the Earth, I hope the treasures of the Mind will be doubly grateful; I would that you should argument from these double Pistols, that my love is not double; and my only glory is, to be acknowledged.  
Your most humble and more obliged Servant OLIVERIO.  
Without delay he caused the Letter with the Money to be delivered into the hands of the Countess; who having recovered her Jewels presently goes for Milan; arriving just at the Emperatrix's coming, she made so pompous a show of her own beauty, that the Emperatrice thought her much self honoured by those people who had sent a Sun to meet her: The envy of the Ladies was changed into admiration, and it seemed as if Nature had robbed beauty from all other persons prodigally to bestow it only on her. The Emperatrice parts from Milan, having presented her with a very fair Necklace, and she presently returns into Alexandria, where Oliverio expected her with those impatiences, which are furies which continually agitate the Mind of Lovers. The Marquis would not appear in Milan at this occasion; that he might cause no suspicion to the observation of so many eyes, or to shun the obligation of serving the Emperatrice. He no sooner knew of her return, but he sent to congratulate her arrival, and to beg her favour. She gave him to understand, that that very evening after midnight she would be at a grate, which looked on a little unfrequented street; Oliverio obeys, and at the hour appointed hears himself called by the Countess: At this first meeting I cannot express the passions of Oliverio; he sweat and freezed in an instant; he in a manner confounded, praises with thanksgivings with so much change, that he was hardly to be understood. The Countess corresponded to all with such affectionate and discreet language, that at the same time she no less witnessed her discretion then her affection. All their thanks terminated in this Conclusion, that the next night he should enter by the Garden Gate, with an express condition, that he should be brought in without light: whereto the Marquis prettily returned, that there needed no light where his Sun did shine: Being gone, he spent the rest of the night with a thousand amorous passions; he no sooner sees the springing of the day, but he desires the night; he a thousand times accuseth the Sun of slowness, for that it accelerated not its course according to his wishes: He even blamed the shadows, disputing command, that they were so long before they occupied the dominion of the Air. At last the long sighed for hour came, when he softly comes to the Garden; finding the door open, he goes directly to the Countess' lodgings. She who expected him, taking him by the hand, tells him; Friend, if you love my reputation and my life, it will become you to sacrifice this night to silence: My women are so near my Chamber, that the least word would cause a high suspicion; neither is my love so unworthy, that I dare trust it to a servile maid; and the rather, because the greater enjoyments admit of no words; she permitted him no answer, but led him into a Chamber, and then having told him he might pull off his clothes and go to bed, whilst she would see whether her women slept. He was no sooner despoiled of his clothes, but he finds himself in the arms of a beauty, so much the more singular, as she was the less subject to the censure of the eyes. My pen dares not describe what they did, lest it should profane the secrets of the night; It's sufficient to say, that he being ravished with the sweetness of those embraces, blest all the labours, all the sights, and all the torments which he had till then suffered; since his past pains served for no other use, but to heighten his present contentment. Fearful lest the light should discover their amorous theft: Oliverio departs before the coming of Aurora; and being forbid to use words, he takes his leave with a multitude of kisses. Being retired to his own habitation, with rest and sleep he procures the release of his past labours, which yet had succeeded so sweetly, that he thought only how he might repeat them. Being risen about dinner time, one of his servants brings him a thousand Pistols with a letter, which having opened with a strange trouble, he sees these words.  
Marquis OLIVERIO;  
I Send back the money which out of your great civility you were pleased to lend me, having made use of it so long as I had need. I do not this to disoblige myself from your affection, but that I may not be wanting to myself: assure yourself therefore, that the obligation shall never terminate, but with my heart till the end of the last period of my life; it's for your glory, that you have introduced subjection into that spirit, which never before knew any; be pleased therefore with  
Your most affectionate and most obliged Servant. AMASIA.  
This letter did so distract the Marquis his Mind, that believing it a deception of his sight, he would often read it: he knew not what to think, forasmuch as the vivacity of kisses, and the embraces of the precedent night, ought not to beget such universal conceptions, nor such cold words. After a Chaos of agitations and thoughts, he writes this Letter.  
Fair,  
IT is with reason said, that money takes a way our rest; Your Pistols having reduced me to a mortal disquiet: you should not, Madam, have sent me what was yours, under pretence, that it had been mine: and if either my demerit or the slenderness of my Fortune required it: why do you not likewise send me back my heart, which I have sacrificed to your beauty. It a cruel liberality to send Gold, a vile excrement of the Earth, and retain the Soul which is the first Essence of Man. That I may lighten my grief, be pleased to take the pains, that I may find you at the grate, at the same hour as formerly. To conclude, forget not  
Your most humble and most obliged Servant OLIVERIO.  
Having sent the letter, and with a thousand imprecations having expected the night, he comes to the appointed place, where having found the Countess; after salutations past, the Marquis hegins to reprove her for sending the money; which he did with such a lively sense, that tears interrupted him, which permitted him not to evaporate his grief by his mouth & eyes. The Countess answers with a sweet smile; And why would you not have me restore what was yours? Because says Oliverio, after I had received the honour of your good graces; I have nothing which is not absolutely yours: Pray therefore bitter not our past sweets. And pray what sweets were those, replies the Countess? Is it possible, says Oliverio, that the interposition of a day only should have so eclipsed your memory, that you have forgotten those delights which were both given and received. Is it possible that those kisses which were altogether animated carrying continually love on the lips, should instil the water of Lethe in your heart; I should sooner lose the remembrance of myself, than the delight I have from the memory of such sweets as those. The Countess interrupted him, telling him, My Lord, I shall undeceive you, it being unreasonable, that your opinion should slain my honesty, which is hitherto no otherways guilty, but by what it may receive from your desires or belief. I thought to please you with a deceit, in some manner to correspond with my obligations, and your love. The love practices of the other night were with my Chambermaid Aleria, I being forbid both by the advantage of my birth, and my husband's honour: She is here present to give testimony of this truth. Oliverio expected not that she should proceed in her discourse; but full of malice, returned home machinating in his mind, a thousand precipices against the reputation and life of the Countess. At last reason having gained the field, admiring the prudence of the Lady, who without prejudice of her own honour had so prettily deceived her lover; he changed his sensuality into friendship and respect. Hence may Ladies of honour learn to shield themselves from the dangers of necessity, without hazarding their reputations. And Cavaliers may learn not to tempt the chastity of a prudent Lady, since they may gain only cheats, or reproaches: It being not blamable sometimes to use deceit, to shun the Tyranny of necessity.   

LEONORA.  
NOVEL IU.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Gernando and Anselmo love two Gentlewomen, whom after several accidents they enjoy; which their wives having discovered, occasion by their jealousy, an unhapy Tragedy.  
NAPLES is a City delightful in all seasons; the flattering accents of the inhabiting Sirens turns with the reeling lubricity of Fortune: if the truth prevail, their minds are to be preferred to all others, like those of Paradise. Many years since in that place, as in a Theatre amongst others, the chance of two most noble Cavaliers was presented; who qualified with that air, fruitful in titles, were called most excellent Princes: The one Gernando, the other Anselmo; the vicinity of their Palaces, the likeness of their years, the sympathy of their minds had in a manner so united their wills, that having inseparably engrafted their hearts, they possessed nothing amongst them imcommunicable, but their wives. Gernando was married with the Princess Leonora, who mixing in her most beautiful countenance, sweetness withseverity & majesty, represented only a lively transmutation taken from the most exquisite excellencies of Venus & Bellona. Anselmo was wedded to Celinda, a Lady, who with her sweet behaviour, and with her winning fashion, was thought worthy to be preferred to the Graces, to suckle and nourish most tender loves; Both the one and the other lived a whole age deliciating themselves with the legitimate sweets of exquisite pleasures; their world would have been believed a Heaven, had their happiness but constantly wheeled about; they often left the City to disport themselves amongst the delightful Groves of their pleasant Villas, where fully enjoying the prerogatives of a Golden age, each did enjoy in their own amorous possessions the redoubled contentment of the others legitimate enjoyments; jealousy did not sour their sweet, the least cloud of grief did not disturb the tranquillity of their contentment; They usually went out to enjoy the fresh air of the clear morning, and what beyond measure was Leonora's sport, which had a bizar capricio to shoot birds, incredibly bragging at every shot she made, of her prey, whilst Celinda intended more tender pastimes, gathering the Flowers of the field; she woven Garlands to crown the triumphs of her conquering companion; neither did they with less pleasure pass the remainder of the day, for Rosalba Celinda's Gentlewoman did harmoniously sing, whilst Do●illa Leonora's, sweetly played on her Lute: with their singing and playing making so ravishing a melody, that from the loving breast of their hearers, by the treachery of pleasure, their souls had fled away, could they but one moment have been released from their adored beauties. Amongst the rest, one day Rosalba having let lose her voice to the singing of a wanton song, she lighted on such affectionate notes, upon the lasciviousness of some amorous accident, that she awakened the soul of Gernando to admire her good grace and facility, he began like those who dote, accusing himself of sacrilege, for that till than he had not contemplated in that most beautiful singer, the excellency of the noblest Seraphin in Heaven; whereupon his heart being encouraged by the reverberation of murdering accents, he the more lively imprinted that likeness, which condemned him to the sufferance of such a grievous martyrdom: where the wretch at once being bloodless and liveless, his motion and speech being taken away, he lifts up a languishing look with a dying sigh, you would swear that he retained not the least spirit of life; the Lass observed it, and joggs Dorilla, perceiving that her finging had wounded his mind, and colouring her cheeks, with rosy blushes, with which she had bereft the miserable dying man, of accusing the murderous wound, yet she thereby forbore not the more spitefully to pursue it; so that with the tone of her voice lifting up the lamp of a smile, she lightened so sweet a look, that fascinating him with a wonderful Magic, she took him quite away from living any longer to Leonora, and brought him to live a fresh, but a painful life in her own bosom; from that time the unhapy man felt so unmesurable a fire to run about his heart, which inwardly burning him, sends up the ashes into his face to accuse the burning, as inextinguishable: Thus did this miserable man burn, and silence it three whole months. Being brought to Town he was visited by the Physicians, and afterwards forsaken; whose opinion was, that he was oppressed with an unknown disease, and that his ill was incurable; Leonora afflicted herself at the sickness of her beloved consort, and no less, amongst themselves suffering the like, did Anselmo and Celinda lament; so that daily frequenting visits, and Anselme with much familiarity did sometimes stay by the by, to jest with Dorlla, with cunning slights, who being taken I know not how with him, suffered not one to pass without giving him an answer; yet she one day resented a piece of pungent treachery: when Anselmo told her, I perceive very well now, Dorilla, why you are so coy towards me, why do you not love me; why do I not love you, said she, for my part I could wish to see you languishing as Gernando is; whereupon with a wink her cheeks blushing, she added, then should you not find me so cruel, as Rosalba is: these last words seemed to Anselmo as the words of an Oracle, revealing the secret of Gernando's hidden infirmity: whereupon without any more to do, running quickly to his bed, he finds him ravished in Rosalba's eyes, who stood by Leonora and Celinda, who were to no purpose on either side of him, comforting him to take away that strange melancholy from his heart, which for his unknown passion occasioned in them so manifest a grief, and attentively observing him, he clearly verified Dorilla's enigma: whereupon having made the motion that all should go out of the Chamber, he gins: Is the love then of Anselmo so little known to thee, that out of idle respects, thou doubtest to discover it to me; at last I have found it out, thy heart is wounded, the shaft comes from Resalba, and it shall be my care, that she who gave it shall cure thy wound: be comforted therefore my friend, restoring thee to thyself, keep us with you for your usual comfort: the soul of Gernando being vanished at his words, was in great danger to be drowned in love, which risen up from the bottom of his heart, swelling, and changing the languishing man's countenance. He blushes, grows pale, trembles, freezeth; but at last having recovered his spirits, he with a trembling voice answers. Out of respect that I would not violate, not even in my thoughts the Religious bonds of our friendship, I have thus silenced myself even to death. Why alas were you so scrupulous, replied Anselmo; Resalba is a servant, not a wife, and do you believe that I should take to heart a vain opinion of her honour, more than you, who are a part of myself, who perhaps with an imaginary fancy inwardly laughs at it. At a call Resalba comes in again with the Ladies, when he goes out purposely to bind the practice of his undertake with Dorilla the stronger and descending in short, to desire of her a proportionable help to the needs of Gernando; he had Dorilla's answer, that if another should languish for him, whether by another's persuasion would you yourself gratify her: well than replies he, I now understand thee, Dorilla, & find myself so obliged by the dear pawn of thy love to love thee, that I wish thy desire, so as Rosalba by thy means may but relieve Gernando. Thee, Dorilla resplendantly for the reward of her suffered love, every moment seemed to her an age, to cement the undertaking, to gain Rasalba's consent, that rock wherein she knew she should find the living life of her heart: So that having taking the first opportunity, she afar off, of herself gins to detest the miserable condition of their servitude, which destinated them to deny their own, for to follow the will of others, which not only the indiscreet commands of their Mistresses witnessed to them, but of others also, who would have precedence over them, and indeed ought rather to be their companions then servants; whereupon with disdain, she said, Anselmo, Anselmo thy Master, O Rosalba, rebelling yesterday against the obligations of due modesty, grew to that boldness as to desire me. And what weighs as much with me, he hath pressed me to pass civility with thee, forasmuch as forgetting thy honour, that thou thyself should give thyself to Gernando, who truly dies languishing for thee. God forbidden that I should ever do it, I would rather for ever part from this house. Thou growest angry, Dorilla, replies Rosalba, and art not ware that our Masters do it to try our constancies, they do it to make sport with us, and thus they treacherously pitch their nets to catch the foolishest, when they brag they suffer most, and die for love; when they intent to tyrannize it over another, they point the line another way, they countersigne with Characters of gold, the first expression of their loves, with griefs, O Dorilla, not with words, they give us an assured testimony of the gift which they say they have made of their hearts: & trust me sister, who gives not presents certainly he loves not. Upon this scandal Dorilla seemed for the time satisfied, as having steered to that port, where was the principal traffic of her hopes. And suddenly with Anselmo, who was at the catch, not far off; glowing with desire, she communicates the avaricious sense of Rosalba, with solid pretences, that she would be gotten with three hundred pieces of gold, for the first pawn of Gernando's amorous affection, and the sooner to gain her by example, she tells her from the beginning, the carriage of her loves with Anselmo: Rosalba seeing that she had already sold that at a great rate, which in her heart she very willingly would have given, gins by degrees to decline from her feigned rigour, and more freely to contract with Dorilla; the business of her love proposition, and covering with a cloak of charity the impurity of her affections, she protested she would come as a victim to the Altar, to expiate the crime, and implore his favour, whom she had so much offended for his loving of her. And having expressly made the agreement, there was no more to do. By this promised comfort, Gernando being recovered, they were so to order the business, that their amorous theft might be hid. Neither could Anselmo any ways fail to afford Dorilla her promised reward, that he might not lose his own satisfaction, who even also, longed to be in the lists of his hoped for delights. He at once was a lover, and a procurer; So that if by his means Gernando enjoyed the love of Rosalba his Gentlewoman, he by way of exchange was to enjoy Dorilla, Gentlewoman to Gernando: whereupon with their beloved taking advice, they consulted on the best means, what way they might the most secretly enjoy one another; several counsels intervened, but amongst others it was believed to be the best; that Anselmo and Gernando, feigning business or sport, should go out of Town, and at night secretly return, and changing the keys of their garden doors, should thereby get access into one the others house, & going up the back stairs to their loves, they every one, might happily enjoy till morning the fruits of their amorous conspiracy. At this only remedy (O the great miracle of love) Gernando grew quickly well, and went about this practice with so much wariness, that neither Leonora nor Celinda, although at the return of the day, they stole and took turns, yet they were not at all awares. At last their husband's new delights increased, in prejudice of their abandoned wives, and whether it be a defect of our humanity, that it prizeth not long, what it possesseth in abundance, or whether it be the vice of sense which finds a greater pleasure, where love hath more of the impudent. Their wives at last grew so disgustful to them, that when out of cunning they visited their marriage beds, yet they brought with them such a coldness, and inofficious conversation; which forced them to reflect on their great losses, they could not but at least be induced to believe that some impudent wenches, fascinating their husbands, had with their impure lasciviousness turned their hearts in their breasts; so much were they changed from their first loves: whereupon Leonora, who was of a more resenting and wary genius then Celinda, looking on it with a nearer application, first in all Gernando's actions, it seemed as if a certain treating or cipher, a kind of speaking by signs, which he daily held, under cover of a youthful familiarity with Dorilla, might if it were well understood, take away the Curtain from the Tragedy of all her contentment: whence one day observing, that according to his wont presence he was with Anselmo, to go out of Town, Gernando practised more than usually with Dorilla their mysterious language, whence presently entering into a high suspicion, she thereupon resolves to watch her all that night, carefully observing her ways, whose chamber by a narrow door communicated a passage into hers; having gotten that opportunity which she most desired, so that intending all her motions at the passage, she perceived that about midnight a person entering in the dark, was dearly, but silently received by Dorilla; attentively giving ear at the door, it seemed with an unhappy equivoke, she took it to be the voice by that amorous reception, although very low, of Gernando, and by the alternate murmur of kisses, and sighs, which by degrees from their more fervent carresses the lovers resounded, thinking she had sufficiently found out the thief, who unworthily robbing her of her husband's love, transfixed her through the most sensible part of her bowels, burning wholly with jealousy, the enraged woman sometimes raised herself against Gernando, and then against Derilla, machinating revenge. A thousand times she was going to discover them, and show forth their shame; but then again being counselled by all kinds of respects, she was disturbedly tormented, unresolved in the atrocity of the most desperate distractions; at last having not courage enough any longer to hear the others sports, to publish the loss and breath of her dearest joys. She went off confused and grieved, and fell on the neighbouring bed, where till morning precipitating herself like a fury, her agitation suffered her not to close her eyes, yet weariness had at last overcome her, had not Celinda unexpectedly knocked at the door, and called her afresh to the grievous sense of her first grief, with her accustomed familiarity, she enters the Chamber, and desires her not to stir from her bed, and withal entreats her kindly to admit of the importunity, which their mutual confidence emboldened her at that time to give her; and then gins, Madam, my heart is so full of horror, that did I not fly to clear my doubts to the tranquillity of your dear conversation, I believe truly my heart would have broken. But now sleeping, I dreamed, that as you were delighting yourself in a thick Forest, according to your custom with your gun, courted by your Gernando, and my Anselmo and myself, when with the greatest delight we applauded your triumphs: Behold! The heaven obscures itself in a tempest! And out of the shades, behold a Lion issues! And falling on my Anselmo, throws him down, whence turning to Gernando, who too, assaulting him, threatening to glory in his death, when you readily coming to his relief, struck boldly against the beast; but alas, yourself wounded Gernando to death; whereupon the fierce beast disdaining to fight with the dying, furiously assails, and kills you; So that whilst I smote my breast and was crying out for help, half dead I did awake. But so troubled and confused, that still floating betwixt truth and doubt of this unhappy success; I have been thus, and perhaps too importunately carried hither to you: Praised be Heaven O Celinda, answered Leoncra, that the slaughters are vanished, and pray God with them all sinister presages may do so too; but alas, there remains far more grievous images, more lively imprinted in my breast, than you ever had sleeping in your dreams, which I have had watching all night, and which I have heard with mine ears. We are betrayed, Celinda, I know that the impudent Dorilla ravisheth my Gernando from my bosom. As on the other side, I conclude that Rosalba takes away from you your Anselmo: Let's up and think of a remedy on some sharp revenge, and then from the beginning relating the History of her first suspicions, and the manner how she certified herself, of their practice she instilled so much disdain in Celinda's breast, that maturing it with judgement, she renders her an inseparable Companion to any undertaking: They went to very strict ways, and at last concluded that dissembling their inward rancour, they should both prepare at the first night of their husband's feigned departure, to change upon some colour their own beds with their shameless servants; not only that they might in the dark with the more savoury carresses enjoy by this innocent cheat their own husbands with the sweeter contentment; but that either of them at parting should gently discover themselves, convincing their disloyal husbands, with the like approved delights, that they had no reason to counterpoise by this amorous recreation, dearly obliging them thereby to cast off their injurious rivals. Five days were scarce passed, when the desired night came. The two Cavaliers parted that they might soon return to their appointments, when their wives pesently began to bring about their designs. Celinda commands Rosalba that changing beds for that night, she should go lie in hers, for that she being desirous of rest, intended to get far from the noise of the street, but finding some difficulty in being obeyed, she was feign to use her authority: Dorilla obeyed more than willingly too Leonora, arrogating so much to herself the affection of Anselmo, she doubted not at all to lose him for the love of another; but rather thought to legitimate her escape by her Lady's fault, and efficatiously went to effect it to that end, that at last being freed from fear of her reproofs, she might enjoy them under that protection. At midnight the Lovers according to their custom came, and believing as they conceived to enjoy their wont embraces, they found themselves after such a manner carressed with so much advantage that they found themselves obliged to correspond with far more expressions then usual. For that their wives knowing the persons they were to act, put by the seriousness of marriage, and let themselves lose to the excesses of an impudent lasciviousness, not only by not contradicting any amorous proposition, but by invitation, fore-runing every way what they thought would most augment the pleasure of their supposed Husbands. To conclude, they would give them proofs of the knowledge, that 'twas not the substance of truth, but an heretical opinion which persuaded them they found more pleasures in others, which made them transgress the legitimacy of their loves.  
Now the course of the hours towards morning run apace, when Gernando seeking on the white flank of Rosalba with his hand the rise of a certain pretty mole she had there, which was the incitement and delights of his highly prized pleasures; not finding it as he was wont, he awhile remained astonished with wonder, where revolving certain particulars in his mind, he thought that as it was, without a voluntary crime, if instead of Rosalba he might have enjoyed Celinda Anselmo 's wife; so Anselmo by a studied perfidiousness, instead of Dorilla, perhaps did enjoy his wife Leonora; whence upon the urgency of so weighty a suspicion, hardly suppressing the grinding of his disdain, without even bidding her farewell, he clothes himself and away; Celinda perceived it, but penetrates not the Occasion of his alteration whom she truly believed her husband, whence she thought it not much to hazard that office with him which Leonora and she had preordained, that they might regain their husbands lost affections. He quickly goes with his naked sword to the Chamber where Anselmo used to use Dorilla, and finding the door shut, stopped a while at the threshold to certify himself the better, the Chamber was enlightened with the full rays of the Moon, and sent forth such a doubtful light, acknowledging the pre-dominion of darkness, so that he could not so clearly see, but yet distinctly hear. Believing her husband sufficiently disposed, by her treatment amorously discovering her voice, she began; perhaps thou hast wanted nothing this night my dear that thou shouldest seek contentment abroad, I am thy Leonora. Gernando was no longer in doubt, but furiously precipitating himself in the Chamber, he cries; what am I thus betrayed? And at the same time with a furious thrust he runs Anselmo through, who till then was stupefied at Leonora's unexpected language, being risen up to sit on the bed, falls again, expiring on the ground; and whilst in the uncertainty of the shades he seeks to kill him; Behold! Leonora, who believing the wounded's voice, that of the wonder, and from the opinion she had, that she had certainly lain with Gernando, and that he was betrayed; having taken up a screwed gun, which was hung on a nail near the bed for their use, she strikes a fatal blow to revenge Gernando's death, and therewith kills even her Gernando: She strikes him to death in the midst of his forehead; They both suffered the pangs of death, and she remained bloodless and even without a soul. When Dorilla being awakened by the noise, takes the Candle which burned for an Offering before the improvident Tutelac Goddess, and running to the Chamber she shows out of the darkness to Leonora her complicated errors, which witnessed her that night both an Adulteress, a Murtheress, and Traiteress, although unvolontarily of the honour, of the Faith and Life of her dear Gernando. Being  at the horror of this Spectacle, as if she had been of Marble, retired into herself, that it might be Eternised with her; Her Grief and Lamentations filently meditated, and resolved I know not what of fierce and formidable: when on a sudden she takes, like Lightning, the Sword out of her dying Husbands hands, and laying the Pommel against the ground, furiously Crying out, O Gernando, Gernando! She falls on the Point, yet reaking with Anselmo's Blood, thus run through, she also expires.  
From this sad cause occasioned by the concourse of so many unhappy deceits. Celinda being imformed, she dies not of Grief; yet at least dies to all Comfort, leading still a most miserable life in Naples. And who knows, If Heaven by her long Agony would not still intimate to Mortal Men, That all Friendship, although bred from honest pleasures, ends in Tragedies, if it happen that passing the bonds of Virtue, it be but once accompanied with Vice.   

ARMIDORO.  
NOVEL V.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Armidoro being one night invited into a house, finds his life in danger, but having escaped it, meets another; valiantly defends himself, and afterwards becomes the means to make up a happy marriage betwixt Riccardo and Lisetta.  
ARMIDORO a young man of Palermo, was about some business of his own at Pisa, who upon an evening, it being the hottest season of the year, when men are forced to make day of night, goes abroad, taking a Spanish Guitar, playing upon it, according to the custom of his Country; having a while after this manner walked about the Town, at the head of a street which ended on the Banks of the Arno, he heard himself called from a house, with these words; Is it you? Armidoro, who was a capricious young man, and thought it might be some love trick; Yes that it is: then she entreated him to come up; the heedless young man without thinking of harm, comes to the door, which he finds open, enters the house, and being come up stairs into a great Hall, persently found himself encompassed by three young men, which were brethren, who assaulting him with their naked swords, said, O thou villain, now shall we reward thee for violating our sister's honour; Armidoro, although he was somewhat startled at so unlooked for an accident, yet perceiving that he was taken for another man, he takes heart and says: Hold! Sirs, for I am not the young man you seek: The young men thereupon withheld their hands; and one of them said, what art not thou he which didst come to shame our Family, introduced to serve our sister's lechery? I (replied Armidore) am a young Silician, who stay here for some affairs of mine, and am within a few days to return to my Country; I know not who you are, nor who is your sister, I came up here because I was called, and I thought I might with security come in a Country, where there is no wrong done to to any man. An old man coming hereupon in, the young men's Father; Let Lisetta says he, be called. She comes: She was a most beautiful young Lady, of about fifteen years of age. To whom the old man turned, saying, Is this that wicked fellow that lies with you? Lisetta at this question, her looks were inflamed like a burning firebrand, and looking steadfastly upon Armidoro, answered, that she had never seen him: whereupon the old man was going to make excuses and send away, Armidoro, but that one of the young men said, it ought not ways to be done: If says he, he goes alive from hence, he will discover our shame to the world; let him therefore die, and let his blood cover our fault: But the old man giving his son good words, said, that they could never cover their errors with the blood of innocents'; for that as many drops of blood as the innocent's wounds should bleed, they would prove as many tongues, which should call the Divine Justice to vengeance, and to the discovery of their wickedness: whereupon, Armidoro, without any more to do was licenc'd, being only persuaded to secrecy. The young man being come out of doors, and having perceived that he had escaped a great danger, was resolved for that night to adventure himself no more, taking his way to his own lodging; where being arrived, and his hand already on the door opening it to go in, he unexpectedly felt himself assaulted, by a blow behind, which hardly missed his head, followed with these words; Traitor, hold, Traitor. Armidoro, who was a resolute young man, and of a great courage, presently draws his sword, and turning upon him who had wounded him: Thou liest, he cries out, What Traitor was I ever? Thus the dispute began equally betwixt them. The unknown man happened to be deeply wounded in the throat, and in the flank, so that thinking himself dead, he cast away his arms, and begged Armidoro's pardon. He that knew not why they fought, not only gave it him, but desirous to know who he was, went himself to find the next Chirurgeon, to come to his cure. Now when the Chirurgeon was searching the wounds of this unknown Cavalier, he was found to be Riccardo, a noble young man of Pisa; Armidoro demanded him the reason, why he had after that manner provoked him? The reason was, replied Riccardo, an amorous Jealousy; I ought that night, says he, to have gone to the house where you were, for the interest of Love; by my Mistress' appointment I was to pass through the streets playing, after the same manner as you did; now having seen you pass before my house, out of curiosity I followed you, and seeing you enter and stay a good while in Lisetta's house, I thought you had enjoyed her; whereupon, being enraged, I resolved in my heat to murder you, but Fortune would not second the malignity of my will; forasmuch as you had reason on your side, every man having reason to take the good things which occasion offers. Armidoro knowing by Riccardo's discourse, the true occasion of what had befallen him, and thinking, that perhaps it might draw out of trouble a whole family, if he took the way which Fortune afforded him for its deliverance. He tells Riccardo, that if he loved Lisetta, as it seemed he did, why did he not ask her in marriage? Riccardo answered, that he thought to have done it, but since that she committed with other men, he would see her no more. Armidoro having handsomely got him to his home, which was not far from Lisetta's house, his wounds being already dressed, promising a sudden cure, he relates to him what had befallen him, and withal the danger wherein he had seen Lisetta, unless she were presently helped by some speedy resolution, and that if he thought well of it, hewould go and demand her of her parents for him to wife, which being granted, all occasions of distaste would immediately cease. Riccardo being very glad to hear, aswel that Lisetta had not falsified her faith, as above measure he was grieved at the discovery of his love practices, answered Armidoro, that he wholly remitted the whole managing of the business to him. Now as Armidoro was going his way to the house of Cosmo, for so was the old man Lisetta's father called, he meets a maid, who was secretly gotten out of the house, to find out Riccardo, to advertise him of Lisetta's danger, and to entreat him, as guilty of those practices, to relieve her. He knew from her that Lisetta's eldest brother, Anastasio, had that day entered her Chamber, and found her reading a letter, which he snatched out of her hand; wherein was written, as followeth.  
My Soul,  
YOu shall see me this night playing according to my custom; May it but please love, that this, as it is not the first, may not be the last of my felicities.  
Anastasio having showed this to his father, and to his brethren, they argued that Lisetta had fallen into the sweet sin of love, & were resolved to punish her with death, but when by neither threatening, nor flattering they could extort nothing from her, they resolved to expect till he came by playing, whom inviting up, they intended to kill; whereupon they were cheated by Fortune, who caused Armidoro to go by instead of Riccardo; so that they were all in a confusion, but that they were resolved to send the unhappy Lisetta out of this world. Armidoro being the more inflamed, hearing of the young Lady's danger to procure the reconciliation of this funeral broil, in four steps reached Cosmo's house, to whom in presence of his sons, he relates the accident happened to him with Riccardo, and in his name demands Lisetta for him to wife, which said he, if you do, you will take away all dangers wherewith this Family is threatened, and all blemishes which you can pretend might defile i●. Cosmo presently having called Lisetta, would from her know, whether Riccardo was truly the man that enjoyed her, which she being secured by Armidoro, at last confessed. Since there remains, says the old man, no other remedy to wash away this stain of dishonour from our blood, contracted by thy fault, I am content that Riccardo be thy husband. Armidoro having giving thanks to Cosmo, flies quickly back again to Riccardo, who in a Sedan was soon brought thither; for by any means he presently would be at Cosmo's house. To Lisetta, who was come from death to life, every moment seemed an age, till she saw her Riccardo; although hearing that he was grievously wounded, it very much disturbed her contentment. He at last being come, and after having begged pardon of Cosmo for his past errors, he espoused her in the presence of all her parents, changing the appearance of death into the pomps of jollity. After which these Lovers lived long, Felicitated by Heaven with a fair Progeny.   

AURELIA.  
NOVEL VI  
The ARGUMENT.  
Aurelia carefully observeth the behaviour of her daughter the love sick Ermelina; and at last finding a love letter about her, falls in love with her Lover, whom (feigning herself Ermelina) she invites to her bed; but deceived by another, giveth way to her daughters, being enjoyed; whereupon, finally they both marry.  
AURELIA was daughter to the Prince of Ancastle, and so highly endued with the goods of the Mind, of the Body, and of Fortune; that she scarce attained to her thirteenth year, but she raised the hopes of many, who pretended to aspire to the possession of so great a treasure: And although her Father's wealth, moved the avarice of some to seek her in marriage; besides the beauty of her countenance, which tiranized over the affections of all, so that favoured by all the Graces, she was reckoned their inferior in nothing but number.  
The ascension to this amorous heaven was granted to Edoardo, the noblest, but oldest of all her pretenders. The fate of those Aurora's, who are only possessed by the Titons. This union appeared to the world monstrous, which did believe Edoardo fit for his grave, than a Nuptial bed. He was in his three and fiftieth year, which with the winter, which he wore in the wrinkles of his face, and on the snow of his hair, to the belief or all, rendered this union necessarily harsh with this spring of beauty, which was without fruit or flower. Aurelia readily applies herself to the cold embraces of an old man, and their age affording them no higher desires, she placed the comforts of her marriage in the riches of her habit, the choice of her jewels, the abundance of her treasure, and number of her servants, with her continual attendance on her husband. Who already grown jealous, thought himself never secure of her, when she was but out of sight. This continual practice obliged Edoardo to many, and often endeavours, and tasks beyond his strength and age; so that the consummation of his marriage terminated with that of his funeral. Edoardo's death was accompanied with such sensible expressions of his loving wife, that weeping, sighing, mourning, and tearing her hair, were the least arguments of her grief. She would even have gone with him to the grave, had she not been conscious, how near she was to the time of her delivery, which flattered her with the hopes to revive him again in the birth of a son. But her desires were betrayed by the birth of a girl, who yet (in her very swath-bands) forced all who beheld her to a height and singular opinion of a threatening beauty. Aurelia would not so much as give ear to any, so far was her heart, from believing, but that all those who could ever felicitate her, were dead with her Edoardo. She voluntarily buried herself in her house, intending nothing but the instruction of her daughter, but with so strict a discipline, that she was already advanced to the thirteenth of her age, and could not yet brag to have seen, or to have been seen by any other men, but those who were of the Family. She never went abroad but twice or thrice in a year, and then so covered and watched with such a care, lest even the air only might ravish her. Her chamber scarce gave admittance to the Sun, so far was it from the eyes of mortal men. And then the continual company of her mother, permitted no other divertisement, but some sometimes childish pastimes.  
Fortune the ordinary helper of Lovers, operated so, that Aurelia and Ermelina, for so was the daughter called, were violently carried to the window, by a great noise, which by how much the more violent it was, by so much it rendered them the more curious. They saw the life of Alexio their neighbour assascinated by the swords of many, whilst he defended himself with a courage far beyond his age. The youth and beauty of Alexio moved a fudden pity in the breast of Aurelia; so that commanding her servants to let him in, they freed him from the hands of the others; who having wounded him in one hand, and grievously in the flank, were even ready to murder him.  
Alexio after some short compliments, was easily invited to rest himself in bed. Hither was his mother brought to attend his recovery; the Physicians denying him to stir from that house, lest motion and air might the more exasperate his wounds.  
Ermelina altogether ignorant of love, whose name was even unknown to her; lost herself at the first sight of Alexio; being altogether ignorant of love, she falls in love; neither could she contend against the first struggle of love; so that now with a curious ear she attends the discourse of the Physician, and now she inquires of the servants; and sometimes, though very often reproved by her Mother; she slips into the Chamber, masking under pretty pretences, the desire she had to see him. The nights increased her disquiets, sleep wanting strength to still her agitations; that at last her mind is tirannized by a confusion of thoughts; and if at any time, her eyes overcome with watching, not with sleep yielded, they presently opened to them other phantasms, which tormented her even more slumbering than waking. Ermelina entertains herself for some days in this amorous frenzy, till Alexio upon his recovery, recovers his own house. He had often observed in the Girl's eyes some pretty testimony, rather of love, then of Pity. But being little practised, he condemned all those thoughts as suspected, which persuaded him he was beloved. But fed with the incitements of that beauty, which would render all undertake excusable, and keeping house the better to confirm his recovery, he continually recreated himself at a Window, which answered Ermelina's Chamber. There she readily discovered, how he moved by a thousand impatiences, made no other vows, but to see her: Finding a way to open a window opposite to her lovers, which had been advisedly shut up by her Mother's jealousy, she took occasion to see him at her pleasure; but was forbid to speak with him, either by her own modesty, or the fear of her Mother. He also by his treacherous love, being rendered mute, gave his eyes theliberty of all the functions of his tongue. At last overcoming himself; he in Paper exhales his Passions: Thus expressing himself.  
Lady,  
LOVE who violently ties my tongue, with the same tyranny moves my hand, and forceth me by these Characters to acknowledge the vassalage of my heart, already contracted and sworn by my eyes: These violences were very necessary to oblige me to this testimony, which in respect to your singular merit cannot be but temerous: Beauty which is the splendour of Divine light, disdains to be adored and worshipped with ordinary terms of humanity. I know it well; yet can I practise no other way: Let these expressions, fairest Fair, be grateful to you, which issues from a soul, which glories more in being subject to you, then in its own being Refresh these hopes with your Answer, which is only able to save the life of  
Your most devoted and most obliged ALEXIO.  
This letter was convoyed to Ermelina without difficulty, for having expected the occasion, as she was looking out of the Window he darted it gently to her breast. The Girl no less curious than amorous, took liberty, and straight her eyes ran to the reading of it; whilst her soul was ravished with these Characters, she minds not her Mother's observing her, who every moment examined and censured the actions and passages of her daughter. The first effect of Aurelia's despite, was, to snatch the letter out of her hand, adding so many injuries and threaten, that tears and sighs were the least witnesses of Ermelina's sufferings. The loss of her Letter, prognosticating the shipwreck of her love and hopes the greatest of her passion. Aurelia leaving her in a deluge of tears, withdraws herself into another Chamber to read the Letter, and to discover how it had been conveyed. Scarce did she know it to be Alexio's, but her mind was agitated with a thousand thoughts. Youth and Beauty made way for desire to gain possession. Repentance assaulted her, to have so many years neglected her life from the enjoyment thereof; all other pleasures were too apparent, besides those which a conjugal love produceth. On the other side, she misdoubted the free censure of the world, in taking such a resolution, after thirteen years' stay; She feared her daughter's temerity, and the tender youth of Alexio; and considered that a second Marriage, after having so long regretted the first, was but to incur the bold censure of fame, and a voluntary losing of her liberty. That part prevails in our affection over which sense is most predominant; she resolves to lose all, rather than the love of Alexio. Taking her Pen; in her daughter's name, she thus invites him.  
ALEXIO,  
WHo yield at the first encounter, discovers the more weakness, and cannot shun the censure of base, and rather deserve hate then love. But for all this, who loves ought not at all to disemble: Love is a fire, the more it is suppressed, opperates with the greater force: These therefore come to assure you that I hearty love you; and had I not been moved by the doubt that I should have incurred your disdain; your letter should not have prevented mine. Now if you have a thought to legitimate our love by matrimony; I shall this night expect you at our garden gate, which you shall find open: Otherwise, condemn your affection as temerous, and put far from you the hopes ever to possess  
ERMELINA.  
This letter having been subtly conveyed to the hands of Alexio, instead to rejoice him, raised a confusion of thoughts in his mind and bereft him of his rest, were it either out of his little practice in love matters, or that he saw the possession of the fair so easily granted him, which he valued by so much the more, as he supposed the access difficult, he confessed himself penitent to have advanced so far. Whilst without resolution he was thus solicited with a thousand doubts, the Count of Bellombra came to visit and entertain himself with him, a youth of a great birth but of a mean fortune; at first encounter having discovered Alexio agitated with some passion, he with some resentment and extraordinary commotion inquires the cause. Alexio with a like facility both in being disturbed, and in discovering of it, communicates all the motives to the Count, which engaged him in those troubles of his mind, desiring him as a friend by his advice to reduce him to the best resolution. The Count persuading himself that it was a good occasion to better his own condition, and coveting that for himself which was offered to another, admonisheth Alexio not to venture on the invitation of a child, rather deserving disdain then love, since with so much facility she prostituted herself to the will of a lover; that to introduce one at night, whom she intends for a husband, gave an evident sign that she had admitted others: Besides he being not assured of the i'll which might happen, he run the hazard to lose himself, if following the lusts of his sense he should accept of the offer: he added thereunto so many considerations, which meeting with Alexio's little courage, easily persuaded him to resolve absolutely to abandon the enterprise; and so much the more for that with so much difficulty and displeasure her mother had denied him leave to go from thence. The Count a while after taking leave pretending some employment, and the night being come he goes to Aurelia's Garden door, who received him with open arms believing it to be Alexio; he being no less deceived, supposing her to be Ermelina; after some short compliments with a low voice, both fearing to be discovered, without light they retired themselves to a ground Chamber, where on a narrow pillow they gave their senses liberty to enjoy the fruits of love. At last Ermelina believing her mother drowned, not in pleasures, but in sleep, gets out of her loathed bed, by reason of her struggle for sleep, and goes to the window at the very same time when Alexio was come thither, disturbed with no less agitations. Ermelina sometimes sighed both for the injuries she had received from her mother, and for that she despaired the end of her loves, since they had had so unfortunate a beginning. Alexio persuaded himself that these sighs proceeded cause he had not answered her desires, & not without violence to himself, told her, Madam, I know not whether I should complain of Fortune or of my little merit which renders me unworthy to receive the favours of love. Ermelina thinking he reproved her for not having sent him an answer, replies; Love is the greatest of all things, and since for my satisfaction he is unlike himself, I know not what to criminate but destiny, which will that I should love without hopes. He answers, there is no love without hopes, since from them alone he acknowledgeth the true substance of his being. And what would you, says she, have me hope, since all accidents conspire my mischief to render me desperate. He replies, to be fully answeredin love, is it not then enough to quit you here in a full calm. But who assures methat, says she, the promises of Lovers are the frisks of the wind. I, replies Alexio, who dedicate myself unto you. These, said Ermelina, are words which lose themselves in the air where they are fomred. You shall see the effect, says he, did I not fear to be too temerous. And what would you do said she. I would get into your Chamber, and there conclude our loves, and save my heart from the shipwreck of hopes and fears. Hereat Ermelina paused a while, doubtful whether she should refuse or receive this offer, and then she tells him, to so great a proposition I have not courage enough at this time to answer. He who by the virtue of love had cast off all fear, and clothing himself with boldness, which was the more heightened perceiving himself passionately loved, Answers her. Who will be wary, loves, not love admits of no consults, and in love matters all that is deferred is lost: there was no way left, either she must grant his demand, or confess she loved him not. Ermelina answered, although my desire to be yours is far beyond my expression, I can never consent that you should resolve to enter this casement to bring equally your reputation and my life in danger. Alexio considering these words were rather injurious, although they seemed denials; by the help of a stool climbed to Ermelina's window, and so enters the Chamber: there after some feigned disdains and repulses, which the more incited him, Ermelina was content he should reap those fruits which Lovers most desire.  
In the mean time Aurelia had partly satisfied those itchings, which proceed from no other reason but that of fence, when fearing lest her action might be discovered; leaving the Count to his rest, she softly visits the house, at last she arrived at the furthest parts, which was her daughter's Chamber, at that time when with a struggling murmur of kisses the Lovers were preparing themselves to new amorous assaults. It seemed strange to her that her daughter being in so tender an age durst be so bold as to give herself up to the embraces of a lover: But considering that errors of love deserved all indulgence, and also knowing herself guilty of the same escapes, she resolved in herself, to dissemble the faults of others, that she might not discover her own: Yet for all this she would needs know who was her daughter's choice, whether with a fit election she in some sort civilised her bold resolution. Scarce did she perceive him to be Alexio, when being deceived, believing him her Lover, she sacrificed herself to fury, rendering herself like those who are tormented with a legion of Spirits; she tears her hair, beats herself, strikes her breast, neglects no demonstration to discover her disdain and express her grief; and at last with injuries and reproofs she thus declares her passion.  
Perfidious man! After having enjoyed the mother, must thou contaminate also the daughter's innocency. Why did Nature or Fortune render this wicked deceiver so lovely. Are these the promises of the love you made me, but now are these treacheries, the testimonies of thy Faith. O Heavens! I shall believe your motions insensible, and your influences hid if you do not thunderstrike this wicked & sacrilegious fellow. Ermelina at the hearing of her mother's words, and believing herself abused by Alexio; gives herself over to tears, and crying with such lively declarations of grief, that it would even have entroduced pity into insensible things, saying.  
Why, O cruel man! Hast thou betrayed the simplicity and innocency of a girl? Why didst thou deceive me with a treachery, so much the more execrable, as being masked with love? When, where, O wicked wretch, hast thou learned these inhuman manners, not used even by those creatures which heaven endued not with reason. Pardon these effects, dear Mother, where sensuality did never believ it should have offended the reason of nature, and hindered the satisfaction of her who gave me my being.  
She would have continued, had not Alexio, who till then remained, like a stone, , interrupred her: My Ermelina, who misdoubts my Faith, may as well doubt whether I live or no: I declare myself thine, and offer myself ready to authenticate the promise of this vow by marriage, where I will make no delay, but what may arise from your want of courage. The disdain of Aurelia increased the more at these words, whence redoubling her cries, with her hands she flew to satisfy the desire of her passion. Ermelina's love permitted her not so much forbearance to see Alexio injured without defending him, interposeth herself to quiet her mother, but she at every moment receiving new alterations, was ready to take some strange resolution, had not the Count's unexpected arrival stopped and silenced them. He having stayed with impatience a long while the return of his mistress, but not seeing her appear, he went out of the Chamber to meet her, not without some doubt that her stay portended him some disaster: scarce did he hear the outcry, but he the more credited the suspicion; whereupon with celerity he came where Aurelia with tooth and nail vented the fury of her disdain. All were amazed at the sight of him, and the Count terrified at that of Alexio. Whence Aurelia took time to ask him how he came into the house: He answered, invited by Ermelina. It's a lie, answered the Girl; and besides Alexio, there is none can boast either of my love, or of the loss of my honesty. The lie in the mouth of a Girl, replies he, injures not: Besides the characters declare you guilty. Saying so, he draws out the letter, and beginning to read it, was interrupted by Alexio; who told him, faithless friend that letter is mine, It's true said the Count; but you refusing to come, I came in your steed and have enjoyed her with promise of Marriage. Then answers Alexio, must Ermelina have two husbands; having been upon the same pretence enjoyed by me. Aurelia finding that she had been deceived, intending to deceive, and unwilling that the publication of this accident should serve for the idle entertainment of public discourse, tells the Count and Alexio; Sirs, if with actions worthy of Cavaliers you will keep your words to marry, I will do so, that who you have enjoyed shall be yours. I replied the Count, confirm what I have promised, and esteem it as an honour. Alexio said the same. Yet with change of countenance in both, knowing that Ermelina could belong but to one. The wonder ceased when Aurelia discovered that she had writ the letter, and been enjoyed by the Count supposing him to have been Alexi●. The Count pursuing his end which was to enrich himself, made no distintion between the mother and the daughter, and so was satisfied. Thus the weddings were with a common joy concluded; making them know, that the love of sense, when it surpasseth not the confines of what is just, hath always a good end.   

NIARPE.  
NOVEL VII.  
The ARGUMENT.  
A Dream imprints in the mind of Euridea, that Niarpe attempted to murder her; whereupon she changed the love she bore him into hatred. He exposing himself to death to deliver Euridea, makes himself found guiltless, and so he is received again into her favour.  
ON The River of Genuoa, there dwelled a Lady of a mean beauty, but endued with so many good graces, and such sweetness of manners, that she ravished the affections of all who beheld her, together with their liberties. She was wooed and courted by many Cavaliers, which if they were not satisfied with a complete correspondence, yet were they answered with a discreet rigour: she rendered herself even lovely in her refusals, her severity being clothed with so gracious a modesty, obliged minds, even in tormenting them.  
Niarpe only, a youth of a most lively spirit, and of high blood, was favoured by heaven to deserve her love, which was longed for by many, even with Idolatry. Whether it were his happy destiny, or the sweet violence of the sympathy of his Genius: he at first, scarce without seeking it, gained the reciprocal affection of Euridea, for so was the Lady called. Sighs lasted not long, their air wanted none, since he scarce entered the Sea of Love, but he happily arrives at the port: He was raised to pleasures before he was sensible of pain, tasting honey without wormwood, which usually prevents or accompanies the contentment of Lovers. A long time was spent whilst he deliciated himself, causing the envious to murmur at his fortune, and at the partiality of Love, who directly contrary appeared so cruel towards them. Now they being guided by prosperity, so ordered their days, that with extraordinary delights their life did flow away in amorous dalliance.  
But at last Fortune who is Love's companion, to give trial of her wont changeableness, with an unthought of accident, disturbed the happiest peace of these blessed Lovers. Whilst one night amongst others they slept together, having buried their senses in so much the more profound a rest, the satisfaction of their desires had the more opened their breasts to enjoy a most sweet repose, the phantasms of Euridea were disturbed by melancholy humours which engaged her mind in the horrors of a dream.  
Which presented her with a frightful treachery, which made one appear before her, who with his Steel threatened to murder her; all was troubled in her spirit, which easily gave credit to those shadows of terror, which solicited her tongue to call for help with outcries. Aloud she casts forth these accents.  
Alas, I am betrayed. Who will help me? Her Lover being suddenly wakened with the noise, yet his waking gave him not leave so well to discern the original of these complaints, but he quickly obeys his affection, which was the life of his motion; now by the vigour thereof, having even sleeping known the voice of his beloved, so that at first impulse he was only solicited to her defence, he takes up his Dagger which always lay at his bed's head.  
At which very instant the Lady distracted with the fright, whilst at first she could not distinguish whether the accident were true or a dream, casts her eyes on her beloved, & seeing him by the light of a little lamp, which was in the Chamber, with his naked Dagger, which he held in his hand as to strike a blow towards her, it being suggested her by the deceit of the dream, she believes it a vision rather than the fright of an immaginary appearance. His words, which might have discovered the fraud, saying; What troubles thee O my dear, were not heard by her, or if heard, not observed, or believed effects of his dissimulation, wherewith he thought to hid the discovered perfidiousness of his treachery.  
At last with a sudden fury intoxicated with prejudiced thoughts, which persuaded her that her Love had an intention to murder her. She raging throws herself out of her bed, and with a cruel disdain seems greedy to tear him in pieces with the same hands wherewith formerly she thought she could never be satisfied to embrace him; and then with her tongue she sends forth her shrieks, exagerating her exclamations against Niarpe. Perfideou, perverse, and horrid mutherer, couldst thou find no better way to despise the faith of a Lady besotted with thy fictions; hadst thou no other means to bring thy treacheries to pass, but in the current of my blood; with thy Dagger didst thou intent to imprint the Characters of the disdain wherewith thou loathest me, perhaps, for being too faithful, and therein unlike unto thee; wouldst thou thus felicitate our love, and remunerate my fidelity, ungrateful Traitor, fiercer than furies, inhumanity in human likeness! What! Assault a woman with such Arms; a woman sleeping, thinking she might securely rest in her Lover's arms; a woman who loved and served thee, thinking to discover the value, or at least to deserve a reward for so much love. Whence, where hast thou learned examples of such cruelty? Who hath prescribed rules of so much ingratitude? Tell me cruel Infidel infamous that thou art, when did I ever offend, but in loving thee too much, whereby have I acquired the proofs of so great a treachery, unless for being too kind to thee? I thank the Gods that by an opportune advice they have delivered me from thy wounds, if on the other side I should not wish to have lost my life, that I might not outlive so high an impiety.  
The young man was confused, astonished, nay, confounded at this accident, and both in his colour and immobility seemed of Marble; but that someimes he would open his mouth to make his excuses, and with truth undeceive those false conceptions. But the unbridled rage of Euridea, tenacious of the conceived belief forbade it him; ever when he endeavoured to licence his accents out of the prison of his lips. Peace she cries out thou base man, dare no more to profanate me with thy lying words; in vain thou seekest a cloak for thy fraud, thy treachery can no longer be hid.  
Those of the house were already come at her outcry, to them she relates the occasion of her complaints. He hath attempted quoth she to kill me whilst I slept, the hand of heaven hath only delivered and defended me from death. At last cries out upon Niarpe, get thee thou wretch out of these gates contaminated with excecrable mischief; out of this house, and never even with thy imagination persuade thyself thou shalt be suffered to re-enter; be perpetually banished my presence, and may thy exile be punishment enough for thy perfidiousness.  
And redoubling these orders, commands him away, while he either heard not, being stupefied, or disliked, as contrary to his hopes. The Assistants observed how Euridea grew more furious in her rage, her fires increasing which inflamed her, as the others ashes reduced him pale; so that to shun worse encounters they led her to the remotest rooms of the house, that she might neither hear nor see the object of her fury, which formerly had been the subject of her love delights.  
Thus the poor Lover remained I know not with what a sentiment, if the effect of so strange a success rendered him not insensible, it must be thought impossible in a heart which was not petrified. In an act of ready defence, thinking to deserve well, he saw the Catastrophe of his fortune, to the ruin of his felicity, even where otherwise he thought to secure himself. He could not hate the Lady, since she was guiltless only in being tenacious to such false suspicions, a want to be ascribed to the imperfection of her sex; so that he durst not vindicate himself against that disdain, which though unjust did in appearance partly justify her. After many thoughts, at last that he might not raise higher outcries to raise the neighbourhood, he resolves to obey Euridea's fury: He departs, hoping that the knowledge of the truth would quickly reconcile him with his beloved.  
In this condion he expected; two days banished by this unlucky accident, confused and stupefied with this addition, that he despaired to receive any relief. At last the thoughts of belief being risen up, the fervour of anger being abated; he tempts her by means of a message, with a letter which bore this sense.  
Dearest MADAM,  
GIVE me leave to believe that your mind being cleared, I shall be free from fearing the thunder which your rigour threatens me withal, I desire to be absolved from the duty of obeying your commands, which you prescribe me to absent myself from your sight, that is to say, from my Paradise, from Justice if not from Pity; I pretend leave to present myself to you, to witness the reasons I have, why I may still pretend to enjoy your favours: I expect an opportunity to abolish the conceits of sacrilege, which thought as if I had intended to offend that Deity, which I always adored; give me leave only to speak with you, that I may but discover unto you in what manner Fortune was pleased to deceive you, and betray me. Then I assure myself that my incorrupted faith will regain your lost affection; which is most ardently regreted by  
Your most Faithful Lover NIARPF.  
At the only sight of the subscription, Euridea renews in her looks the pomps of disdain, and her heats makes proof thereof. Faithful and Lover, she exclaims: What Faith, what Love dares this impious fellow yet boast of! Whereupon quickly tearing the paper, wherewith her madness was not content, but with despite she must even tread it under her feet: an ill presage for the young man, who could not hope that his desires should be granted, that paper being kicked away wherein all his hopes were included: as under a torch he receives the characters of a new impression, wherein he reads the sentence of an unretractable refusal. Running afterwards over a flood of reproofs against the woman who carried the letter, he gins to believ that he was only to condemn that fate which had imbarrassed him in such an undertaking. After repeated injuries which he loaded the poor woman withal, she returns to tempt, if at least she might procure some ease to the fury of his distracted passions; relating the passages, she tells him of the immutable state of her cruelty, despairing of any more procuring any means able to relieve his desires, and secure him in his urgency, whence consequences of death were like to succeed. Yet he again tempts by other letters to make his reasons appear, which by several deceits he gets delivered into the hands of Euridea. But she being deluded by appearances, judged him the more inexcusable, and the treachery the more true, refusing for ever to admit of any excuse of his, in his behalf; on such terms, that she refused all letters whatsoever, or receives them with great wariness, lest they should come from him, that she might not be troubled with his noisome importunities: she even hated his name with the sinister thought of a Traitor; and her soul being free by the frauds of deceit, she forbore not to love him, abhorring those violences which obliged her to disdain. Whence her mind was plagued, leaving no remembrance which subjected her not to double torments; the one of the remembrance of his perfidiousness, the other of her impossibility of hating him, who still appeared lovely.  
The afflicted Lover got persons of her familiar acquaintance, which undertook to undeceive her. To them he so expressed his grief, that he even violenced them to compassionate him, and urged his entreaties with so much efficacy, that he obliged them to grant his requests. The restraint of his prayers was the compendium of his desires, to clear his innocency, the witness was sufficient, showing himself still so passionate a Lover, that they could not imagine him a Villainous Homicide. They all promised to move for him, to insinuate in their discourses intercessions in his favour, which might prove grateful: yet were the issues of his hopes vain, the Lady remaining pertinacious in her rage, who at the least word at a suspicion only which her imagnation suggested in favour of Niarpe, denied to hearken to it, and flew away that she might not hear it; so that she obliged them all to silence: so that in conclusion she would admit of none to come in her presence, whose first protestations were not absolute promises, never to speak of him; crying out of him always with the title of ungrateful, with attributes of treachery. You may imagine to what a condition of sufferings the miserable man was reduced, meeting so obstinate a fierceness: The state of the damned, as inferior judgeth the right of this, describing the tortures of that scorned soul, by such an accident which pricking him to the life, made the most spiritual part of his heart resent it. In this desperate condition he would a thousand times have died, had not even death appeared horrible, not as to other miserable persons , since it must have been accompanied with the unabolished thought of his infidelity. He forced himself to live, because he hoped to see Fortune once glutted with her pastimes, when that tempestuous sea would become calm, wherein there now appeared nothing but rocks and wracks. Two months were passed, the greatest part whereof was spent in fruitless endeavours, which opened the gate to a total despair. Heaven at last commiserated the extremity of his torments, subministring an occasion and a way to discover the unchangeable purity of his affections, as far from treachery, as they were truly near the extremity of love.  
There dined with Euridea a Lady, a familiar friend of hers, with the height of all the delights which usually second conversation, especially at meals. The table was not costly, yet full served with all sorts of meat, exceeding the terms of ordinary moderation, although they out went them not in ceremony. The courses of fish and flesh were double, in respect that its the custom of some who observe such a day, with a particular devotion, to abstain from all but lent meats. Euridea was so accustomed, and therefore did not accompany her friend in tasting of every dish, who indifferently fed on all: but most of all fed upon a dish of Mushrooms, which that very noon were (as he who brought them said) sent by some Nuns. In that Country they dress them several ways, as if a great quantity privileged with a singular goodness, were not sufficient, unless the diversity of sauces did not change their forms, and render them grateful to the . These were dressed with eggs and cheese, and such like things, which caused Euridea to forbear them: the chance was that they had an inward malign quality which produced strange effects in this Lady's stomach. A while after dinner being come home, she was assaulted with mortal pains, gripping of the guts, oppression of the heart, which sent forth over her body a cold sweat, which usually denotes the last endeavours wherewith Nature resists the violences of death: the tumultuous humours of her stomach swelled up her belly, caused her eyes to stare, made her lips pale, and her mouth foam; all usual effects of venomous food, she being unable to speak, could not express the truth, nor the suspicion of her unexpected sickness. The women about her giving her remedies, as against poisons, forced down her throat Treackle dissolved in Wine.  
The remedy operated according to its proper virtue expelling the matter which burdens the complexion, by drawing it to the last centre of its corruption. The women cry out the louder that their Mistress was poisoned, inculcating the same opinion in her, who approved it as true. Being stupefied with faintings, occasioned by the excess of her disease, she till then was exempt from thought; the mind easily admits of false suspicions upon such an occasion. So that condemning Euridea, as she who would have poisoned her; not distinctly remembering what the meat was, she only sensibly found herself offended, remembering also, that she had not accompanied her in the eating of that dish, although she had fed on many others, although it were under pretence of a fast. Her mind did not forbear to suggest some woman quarrels which happened betwixt them, although of slight concernment, yet of much force in her thoughts, which resolved her to vengeance, to enforce her suspicions, her observation concurred in marking divers gestures, and some words she then remembered, as discoveries of a hidden dissimulation; and testimonies of an ill affected mind. Being at last forcibly enough confirmed by the assurance of the women about her, of all the effects of most powerful poison, and finding her agony continue, it rendered her belief unchangeable.  
Being herewith enraged, she breaks forth into exaggerations, fit to thunder out her disdain against a Traitress, who under colour of disguised friendship, had made her prove such grievous torments. That she might not aggravate her grief, the agitation of the humours being not yet settled, she was desired not to disturb herself more, but quiet her offended heart, by making a victim of her treacherous enemy to her revenge. In conformity to the advice, they accuse her of the crime to the Justice, informing him of the fact, and soliciting her deserved punishment. The cause being heard by the Magistrate, Euridea was by his order imprisoned in a dark Dungeon, that there she might be proceeded against, and receive the sentence which the Judges should decree against her: she in vain demands the cause of her imprisonment, in vain she witnessed her own innocency, since where its necessary to obey the violence of so many, 'tis bootless to produce excuses for her deliverance. The fame was soon spread abroad, that Euridea was imprisoned for poisoning this Lady at her table; the public voice added that she was already condemned to death, as that liar when it cannot offend truth, in the substance of the fact, yet at least it will prejudice it with false additions. Niarpe heard of this accident, more confusedly then others; so that in repeating it, he even confounded it in himself, by reason of the dangers wherein his beloved enemy was.  
This, says he to himself, is the time to terminate thy pains; here is the opportunity of a certain death, together with a most endearing deceit to make my faith and affection appear; let me but encounter this capital sentence, instead of my Mistress, and I shall make it appear that the intention was always impossible in me of killing her when we loved, when even now, when I ought to hate her, by my own life I shall free her from losing of hers. Arise O my heart, run boldly in this occasion to witness thy fidelity; to live is no ways desirable, since a fallacious dream alone, is able to disturb thy contentment, even to despair: Hast thou suffered so many torments, not to yield to be thought an unhappy Traitor: unloose thyself from these bonds, that thy soul may be at liberty, and happily fly away without the weight of such grievous passions which clog it.  
He consulted in this manner with his own thoughts, without being ware to what end these counsels directed his resolutions. He confounded himself in the vehemency of his desire, which aspired to repacifie him with his beloved, which inconsiderately precipitated him in the arms of every occasion which his hopes represented . He goes to Euridea's house with these revolved thoughts in his stupefied mind, to gain a perfect notice of the fact: the servants were astonished, no less in seeing, then in hearing him so perplexed for their Mistress' deliverance; they knowing of his former passages, esteemed him as a perfidious enemy. They which served her said in confirmation of the relation, which he had already heard, adding with multiplied oaths that she was innocent of the imputed crime: that they had seasoned all the meat without the least poisonous ingredient, or their being any ways offended by the taste thereof; were the accusation true, they doubted only of the dish which was sent for a present, yet that excluded the fault from those of the house, as being a recevied deceit. They the more provoked him, lamenting the sudden and eminent danger of their Lady, since, without defence, she was to maintain all what her incensed Accuser did instance; they thought they might move Niarpe out of pity to afford her some assistance; although they durst not entreat it, believing his disdain against Euridea, to have been equal with what she did believe of his cruelty; observing besides, that her safety was urgent; they solicited him further, telling him, that all remedy would be fruitless, unless suddenly undertaken. And according to the property of women, easy of belief, when moved by fear, they thought even that their Lady was already brought to the Scaffold, and her head was cutting off by the Executioner.  
The distempered mind of the young man could no longer hold at that impression; taking the danger far greater than in truth it was; and so ravished, away he runs to the Tribunal, where his love was to be condemned, and according to his belief unquestionably to be executed. Presenting himself to the Judge; I am come, says he, to deliver the innocent from death; the poison which criminates Euridea, as that she had prepared it for her friend, was sent by me in the meat, which (as I perceive) was brought to her table at dinner, I sent it to intoxicate Euridea herself, but baffled by Fortune, I see myself betrayed by my own designs: repenting to have machinated her death, I correct my error, neither will I double the crime, unjustly suffering that which now lies on her by virtue of a false accusation.  
What sayest thou, O foolish Niarpe? Thou hazardest thyself to regain the affection of thy dear, and to abolish the thought of being a Traitor, thou accusest thyself that thou wouldst have poisoned her? Dost thou think to discriminate thyself by a sinister belief, with this fraud of thine thou castest down thy hopes, and rather confirmest her belief, by confessing to have endeavoured to poison her? The more envenomed against thee, at this thy redoubled attempt, instead of a lover, thou wilt render her a fury; thou shalt die infamous, hated by her, detested with perpetual ignominy, which will follow the assurance of thy twice repeated treachery; a wise resolution, a prudent counsel! What thou didst design to shun, thou estrangest thyself from the end which thou didst prescribe to thy amorous resolution.  
But 'tis no wonder that he should do thus who trusted a blind guide; spurred on by love to this action, he went on without thinking what would become of the business, weaving a black mantle of guiltiness for his own innocency; wherein, in speaking, he made his tongue the nurse of his love, as he had before followed his steps. The Judge admits of his voluntary accusation, exchanging the Accuser for the Lady whom he declares innocent, and taking her out of prison, satisfied her curiosity, by relating the success which was the occasion of her unlooked for deliverance. She at first wondered at the guilty persons true heart; but afterwards understanding that it was Niarpe, who had confessed that that poison had been designed for her death; those affections then preceding it, which will suffer no bridle, to wit, disdain; she exclaims against his perfidiousness, who the second time discovered his designs of treachery against her life.  
Assuredly, said she, remorse of conscience hath forced thee for such treacheries to condemn thyself? O God, how can a soul, although perverse, conceive a hatred against me, which seems insatiable, even to my death? I who loved him with so sincere a heart, answered him with such a ready compliance, and so courteously, that (I dare swear) I never had but amorous desires for him. Let Ladies learn to be free to their young Lovers, that they may gain so grateful a reward, even for the testimonies of tolerable cruelty. Believe not now, that if there were a man more faithful than he, that even I could procure myself, to overcome the inconstancy of my sex, to parralel him in affection.  
Exaggerating after this manner her passion she comes to the presence of the Judge, and doubly makes Niarpe guilty, discovering his former attempt to kill her in her sweetest rest, in her quiet sleep. One fault confirms another; Euridea having aggravated his fault, departs assured that he should be severely punished by a mortal sentence: she gladly returns home, no less for her own liberty, then for her assured revenge.  
Amongst the encounters and affectionate congratulations of her servants, she was advised by their discourses with Niarpe of the information he had taken, and the reason of her imprisonment: but above all of his anguish, and how grievously he took her danger. The Lady having heard, though unwillingly, these expressions, contrary to her will, which was intoxicated with finister thoughts; yet she began to reflect on her thoughts, how he by his own election had exchanged himself to suffer her danger, which did no ways confirm a perverse intention, but a constant affection. She observed what was said, being obliged to believe him guiltless of any crime in this accident, which before he had had no notice of; she could not judge herself desirous of his death, who had discovered himself, by what was told her, in danger for her deliverance.  
Nevertheless, this was not sufficient to remove from her mind the remembrance which the first impression made, which was rendered indelible, if her eyes did not lie, which had seen him with his unsheth'd steel armed against her breast.  
The words of a Lady, with whom she had many contests, cooperated to introduce a contrary belief; Niarpe's resentment being by Euridea's fury heightened, who refused to hear his excuses: being at that time to give her a visit, from her astonishment bred from the confusion of her thoughts, she took occasion to insinuate in her discourse Niarpe's constancy, fomented only by an indiscreet rigour, witnessing, she had seen him despair at her feet, for the loss of her good graces, and a supplicant, with prayers, to regain them; she forms a distinct Narration of all his words, his sighs, and his desires to undeceive the fraud of a simple dream, with the continued attestations of an exviscerated passion, making the truth appear by reason of the accident, which that night happened unhappy to their loves, which still had been hid under the obscurity of a mistake: she remembers the precedent proofs of his singular faith, with the following testimonies; following it with an extreme grief of heart, as with an uninterrupted care to pacify her anger; and then this last action confirmed the immutability of his extraordinary affection, since he hazarded his own innocency and his life, to deliver her from an imaginary danger.  
Say no more, say no more, said Euridea, whose heart was already awakened with the knowledge which arose from these discourses, that she had unjustly ill used her lover; yet she persevered in her contest, the obstinacy of her old belief; till at last she was cast down by the testimony which Niarpe witnessed, even to the hazard of his life, by a voluntary accusation made by himself, to afford her the means to get out of the labyrinth of her prison, the centre whereof perhaps was death. He said, he had sent the poison, with the meat which arrived at dinner time. Now whether whilst she was pondering in her mind, either of the felicities, or the despair of her Lover, he comes who had brought her that meat, to fetch back the dish; from this distinct information, she got full notice of the fact, knowing that the present came from the civility of certain Nuns; (as he related it) and not corrupted by the fidelity of the messenger, who carried it. The ground of the design failed whereupon Niarpe had made himself guilty: The building fell which his sinister Fortune had built under the credit of treachery. Amongst a thousand troubles his Lady bitterly repent hereof, for having unreasonably punished him with so much fierceness. Doubting to be the cause of his death, she saw the despair interchanged, whereto the necessity of her indiscreet rigours had often reduced him; but being blinded by the fury of the deceit, not discerning his faith, so blind did love make her, that she was heedless of her own sufferings.  
She returns to the Tribunal, and as carried away with doting, she demands the restoration of her Lover, that Niarpe should be set at liberty; if justice required a victim, she alone was fit for the Executioner's hands, since she had been sacrilegious, having violenced the temple of Faith and Love. Those who not long before had heard her enraged against the same person, begging cruelty for his punishments, were astonished to see such a change; she who had accused him of double treacheries, now with so much vehemency, endeavoured to cry him up as innocent: The Judge had a competent satisfaction for his curiosity in the relation made of the success, which might decipher the enigmas of so unlooked for a change. They who admired Euridea, related the whole business, who from her stupidity being reconcentrated in herself, discovered no less her own confusion in her very accent; yet from time to time she replicated her instance for the recovery of her Lover.  
They witnessed the countersigns given of the unvariable affection of the one, and of the innocency of the others deceived belief; so that the cause was suspended with the deliverance of either, till the Judge had more apparent motives to satisfy the demands of the Accuser, who complained as having been poisoned. She was yet kept in her bed by reason of her weakness, which followed the violence of the accident more than the necessity of any ill. Skilful Physicians were sent, who by a diligent disquisition of all what she had eat that day, and weighing the effects flowing from thence which she called poison, they made a punctual scrutiny in search of the truth, and from one head to another, they concluded the original of this agitation, which they did believe came from nothing, but the malign quality of the Mushrooms, which being not well purged, had the force not only to weaken, but even to have killed her. A particular reflection having denied the first impulses of grief or disdain, which inforc'd them to hear, that all of the family had cried out that she had been poisoned, now made the sick Lady of their opinion; she perceived that all her suspicions were groundless, since neither in Euridea, who was accused, nor in Niarpe, who had made himself guilty, she could find any occasion for such a treachery. So that from the satisfaction of the one, and the sworn testimony of the Physicians, a Decree of liberty was granted to our lovers. This revolution of Fortune was unexpected by the young man, who betwixt the thoughts of death, could not promise himself the enjoyment of so much felicity, unless by being so near death, he might promise himself a future beatitude. He saw himself in his beloved's arms, when he thought to go to his execution, and receive amorous kisses from her lips, when he thought to hear the rigorous sentence of his death. He knew not who to thank for such a happiness, unless that very hour which had occasioned all his torments. His heart being restored into its former sweet ardours, softly melts itself away, to make an inextinguishable lamp for the light of his joys.  
The Scene being thus changed in his belov'd, there only appeared representations of tenderness, who repent not only her own mistake, but also the torments she had occasioned: when she had reheated him, so that he could no more be changed, as she thought by the cold of her rigorous correspondence, she resolved on an amorous peace, and invites him to negotiate it himself with greater advantage of his gust, than he possibly could have desired.  
Were we not, said she, subject to fail, we should not remember our humanity; and were we not subject to obey our passions, our souls would soar up too high, were they not depressed by that tyranny; yet shall I not blush to confess my fault, for having thought you unfaithful I will with a sincere chastisement correct it if you please; I shall alone punish myself, did I not think to offend your love, which I have experienced so constant, with my death, or with my torments. Return therefore to my house, that between your arms I may know your will either to enjoy or destroy me, as it shall be your pleasure, with a dominion over me gained by the merit of your unchangeable constancy, you shall have the liberty to follow what you shall think most agradible.  
Our Lover would have answered these kind invitations, or rather loving mistrusts; but she hindered him, saying, It is no time nor fit place for amorous expressions, otherwise superfluous, when the testimonies of love were so quick, it concerns me to witness my gratitude, and it's my obligation to exviscerate myself to correspond with your affection; It's I ought to die, either for the delight I shall take to please you, or by the excess of my pains in chastisement of your so ill rewarded a desert.  
Niarpe held his peace at her command, and his debility being reinforced preparing his arms to cement their joys; He goes with Euridea to her house, and with embraces and kisses the peace was concluded, before it was treated by words of mouth. They lived afterwards regretting only their lost and fled delights, confirming by experience; that the Water of Disdain sprinkled on the Furnace of Love, reinvigorates its ardour instead of extinguishing it.   

DEADORA.  
NOVEL VIII.  
The ARGUMENT.  
At the burning of a house the love of Lovanio to Deadora commenced, who gratefully corresponds with his Love, and to give herself the more freely to him, she suffers her husband to enjoy her Maid Aleria, whilst she enjoys her friend; the Maid falls in love with Lovanio, betrays her Mistress, whose jealousy causeth the ruin of them all.  
IN the most noble City of Bologna, pretending his studies, lived Lovanio, the Count of Roccabruna's son, a youth, who with the comeliness of his person, and the affability of his manners, won the love of all those who had the happiness of his acquaintance. As he was one day going towards the walls to take the air, he was stopped by the voices of some, who crying out Fire, fire, pitifully begged help; amongst others who despairing out of fear, had bedewed her cheeks with her tears, was a Lady, although the roses of her face were fled, yet she might brag it still enclosed a Garden of beauties; who although with the greatest despite of danger, she nothing lost her courage; yet unable to remedy the business, and abandoned of all help, was obliged to fear; Lovanio observing that no body moved, the neighbouring houses being empty of inhabitants; there being some few poor little untoward women, who multiplying their outcries, increased but the fright and confusion. He resolves to go himself with his servants to quench the fire; which already in triumph had raised itself up to heaven: Entering the palace where the flames furiously turned about, after having wished Deadora, for so was the Lady called, that she should quiet her fears, whilst he would endeavour to secure her from danger, he with his servants and some others, who came at the cry, went up to the top of the house, and there labours so with his hands and orders, that the fire was in a short time buried in a thick cloud of smoke: He scarce was come down, when Gelasio the Lady's husband meets him, who having had notice of the danger, was come running thither. Their words were many, & full of civility, Gelasio even offering him the house as Padron, since he had saved it from the fire; Deadora came also to these thanksgivings, with so charming a behaviour, that Lovanio finds his heart inflamed with worse fires, than those he had lately quenched. He had seen her at first with a sense of pity, when oppressed with fear, she could do nothing, but weep and cry, the extinguished colours of her face had not then the power to inflame a mind. Her heart having now restored the honours it had rob from her face, and the beauty of her eyes being no more troubled with her tears, his pity was raised to love; Lovanio vowing all his affection to the fair Deadora, who soon observed it, and the more, for that at his leave he sent her his soul in a sigh: Yet she faigns herself careless, whether to set the higher value on her honesty, or that she would not so soon venture on the faith of a man; and although Lovanio continued to serve her, both at Church, and at Balls, yet he gained nothing but salutes and indifferent looks, which signify no more, as may be thought, than obligation, and not Love. The young man when he could no longer resist the violence which tormented his mind, sends out his passions on his paper, after this manner.  
Madam,  
THE flames which burned your house, were destinated to torment my mind: I would hid them, but the fire being shut up tears me with the greater violence, and renders my relief untimely: I would extinguish it, but being supernatural, my tears have the power only to render my grief the more sensible. I therefore beg of you, O my fair, to quench my ardours, with a like compassion, as my heart was filled withal at your first call; you have reason to pity me, knowing by experience the hurt and danger of fire; I hope that a Lady of your conditions would not offend her good name with the stain of ingratitude. Help me then, if for no other cause, yet that you may not lose a servant, who loves you as much, as he can, and as much as he knows, if not as much as you deserve. The honour of your answer is the hopes of my life; the nourishment of my Being, is the favour of your good Graces.  
The letter being written and sealed, he solicited Fortune to favour him in the delivery. He thought in himself that the most resolute means would prove most dangerous: to use women of that profession were to slain the reputation of the Lady, and would provoke her disdain, instead of procuring her affection: at last that he might overcome all hindrances which resisted his desires with a bold action; he comes one day to Church, when Deadora intended the Divine service, and wrapping up the letter in a round, he so prettily casts it into her bosom, that no body observed it. Deadora taking it unawares, and perceiving that to make show of it, were but to publish her own shame, having dextrously hidden the letter, goes home agitated with a thousand thoughts. She was no sooner alone but her curiosity, or perhaps even her affection sent her looks to the reading of the note; before she had made an end of it she gave herself for lost: those characters were too powerful against the weakness of a woman's heart, which is soft to all expressions. Being tyrannised by amorous affections, she found no rest, but in her disquiets. She brought all her affections to confult in her mind, which at last gave sentence in favour of Lovanio: Whereupon being forced by the power which knows not reason, and operates with the greater impetuosity, the greater refistance it sindes, she commits her thoughts to the paper, which contained these conceits.  
LOVANIO,  
DID I not believe I should move your despite by declaring myself so easily overcome by your entreaties, I would freely tell you I love you, and that I am yours: but because I know the inconstancy of humane minds, which nothing esteems what is gotten with ease and possessed without pains; I resolve to entreat you to forbear your undertaking, which can never succeed without the hazard of life and reputation. I have a soul so full of gratitude, that I could not but venture myself for the satisfaction of one who with so much civility was not wanting to help me in my need. I therefore assure myself, that so worthy a Cavalier, who hath merited all the favours of Nature and Fortune, would not disquiet the repose of my heart, nor torment the affection of a woman, who in despite of herself must yet confess herself to be yours. You are with so much tenderness interessed to quench fire, which excerciseth its fury on senseless things; That you ought not now to nourish it in my mind, lest it consume my life and reputation; could I have shaken off this so grievous a yoke, which proceeds rather from my destiny, them my will, your letters should not have prevented mine. Pardon me, if I unhandsomely trample on the honesty I own my sex, and the laws of marriage, since the first thing which Love cancels is reason. But I have discovered myself too much, to one, who perhaps laughs at my infirmity.  
This letter being secretly conveyed into Lovanio's hands, fills him with so much joy, that he could scarce contain himself, knowing that Deadera would not belie these characters, these repulses being invitations, and these doubts assurances of love. Whence argumenting that the Lady's affection was greater than he ever hoped, he so operates, that without communicating his affections to paper, he gets the opportunity to speak to her at a little grate, and there to concert the accomplishment of their amorous pretensions. Gelasio, Deadora's husband, was so given to all kind of love, that with the Chameleon, who assumes all the colours which comes near it, he at ever object changed his love and affection. To satisfy the vanity of his lust, he made no distinction of nobility or beauty; He confessed himself as well enchained with silver hairs, as with golden looks; and was equally tyrannised over by a Lady of honour, and a common Courtesan. His affection triumphs as much over that fair one, who was without blemish, even from the observation of envy, as over that beauty which was offended with a thousand, and metamorphosed by an infinity of imperfections. Deadora, who knew her husband's genius, thinks on a means to enjoy her Lover: she knew that her Chamber maid Aleria was solicited by him with promises, gifts, and often with threats to satisfy his lustful desires; whereto occurred that Aleria was naturally tormented with all kind of dishonest desires, so that nothing bridled her, but the fear of her mistress: who with Argus' eyes watched Gelasio's immoderate affections. Deadora therefore, that she might accommodate herself with her Lover, was content that Aleria, in the mean time, should entertain her husband: which very often happily succeeded, the warm season of the year concurring in favour of their loves. Gelasio and Deadora slept in two several Chambers, so that Lovanio being let into a ground Chamber, whilst Gelasio enjoyed Aleria, who at the same time guarded her mistress, satisfied her master, and recreated herself: But because the felicities of love are but as flies, which live and die in a day, Fortune with the same facility would precipitate those she had lifted up. Lovanio was one evening let in by Aleria, somewhat sooner than was usual: She after having received him with a thousand caresses, expresses of love, which her breast nourished, tells him, that Deadora would be a while busy, having not yet ended her supper, and that in the mean time she had commission to entertain him. Lovanio kindly thanks her, saying; That it was not the first of his obligations to her. Aleria suffered him not to proceed, but taking him by the hand, she says, Signior Lovanio, There can be no greater infelicity, then to see others reap the fruits of one's pain: I have suffered so much that at last I might get your love, and I have gained nothing but dangers and fears. Is it possible, that least out of gratitude, if not out of love, I may deserve the favour of your good Graces? Truly, I do not so much envy my mistress in possessing your whole heart; I only lament the miseries of my fortune, which hath placed me in a condition to be despised, even by those whom I continually pleasure: which having said, she gins to kiss his hand, which she held fast in her own, with so many tears, that Lovanio, who at first laughed at her folly, being unable to resist, gave himself over to sense: The more readily, because the beauties of Aleria were so singular, that he would rather have deserved the title of stupid, had he not taken the occasion of enjoying her. Lovanio and Aleria were ingulf'd in the sweets of Love, when Deadora grew impatient that she was not called, and perhaps not without jealousy (since 'tis the usury of the pleasure of those that love) having seen her husband in bed, she silently comes down into the ground chamber; and there having found her Lover in the amorous lists, carried away with an unspeakable impetuosity, without considering the danger of her life and honour, she at once furiously gins to move both her hands and her tongue, saying, Traitor, do you thus triumph over my shame? Is this the reward of my confidence, and of my faith; I will so treat you, that I shall rejoice to see you buried in my precipice, that my ruin may not be the more funeral by your laughter or lasciviousness. She accompanies these words with so many blows and bitings, that Aleria bled in several places; Lovanio, in the mean time, casting himself at her feet, begged of her with the sweetest words, which would have introduced pity, even into insensible sensible stones. Sometimes remembering her of the danger their lives were in; sometimes excusing his own error, promising repentance; sometimes protesting his body had sinned without the consent of his heart. Deadora being deaf to his entreaties and humiliation, continued to injure them both in word and deed. When with a face which carried horror and terror in his eyes, Gelasio appeared; who without sleeping, had long heard Aleria, and rising to seek her, he comes to a place where he hears, although indistinctly, Deadora's rage, Aleria's tears, and Lovanio's requests. Gelasio having taken a Dagger, furiously runs to the noise: Scarce sees he Lovanio embracing his wife's knees, but he knew him guilty of having ravished the honesty and reputation of his house; whereupon he runs to him, and strikes him such a blow on the head, that he being disabled to sustain himself, falls to the ground with the pangs of death, which were more terrible than ordinary, seeing that his sensuality had prepared a sepulchre as well for Deadora, as for himself; Gelasio observing Lovanio in a dying condition, unable to defend himself. turning to his wife with a tone of voice, which would have begot horror in a breast of Marble, tells her; Woman, thy crime is so great, that to pass by it without punishment, would rather be an effect of weakness then of mercy: yet since I preserve in my mind the characters of my first affection; I shall pardon thee; but on this condition, that this Adulterer, having thy heart, thou shalt herewith stab him in the breast. Deadora having taken the Dagger, with a greater undauntedness, then is to be found in a feminine heart, says; Sir, The sins of love deserve some pardon, because they oftener come from destiny, then from eslection, Yet I confess myself unworthy of it, for that I could not regulate my dissoluteness. Saying these words, and feigning to strike Lovanio, she sheaths the Dagger in her husband's bosom; who scarce could say, Cursed, woman, thus at once to rob me of my life and honour; but he lost his speech with a many lowings, as if he would rather threaten death then die, so he unhappily ended his days. Deadora having executed that endeavour, with but too much courage, and but too little justice; runs to fetch the last breath from the soul of Lovanio; who having violenced himself, said; My dear, Deadora, I die content, since I die not unrevenged: Pardon me, and suffer that the chastisement of a humane error may terminate with him who committed it: I beg of you, that with your disdain, you make not my ashes unhappy. But, alas, this is the last period of my life: Consolate, O my dear, the miseries of its passage, with the last of thy kisses. At the end of these words he ceased to live. Deadora stupefied with grief, was rendered , like a Statue; after she had said, crying out with a deluge of tears. Stay, O the Soul of my Dearest beloved Lovanio: It's not fit that thou shouldst go to the Shades alone. Which having said, she strikes the Dagger through her own Heart; whence her Soul soon issues with her blood.  
Aleria, who in the representation of this Tragedy, had suffered the torments of a thousand deaths, flying from the sight and enquiry of those, who in great numbers came to the noise: hating at the same time the light and herself, retired into the uppermost parts of the House; and there having fastened a Halter, she miserably throws away her life, giving a just reward to her own dishonesty.  
Hence may be comprehended, That all the Pleasures of unlawful Loves finally terminate Tragedies; and that impudent Affections can have no other but an unhappy end.   

EMILIO.  
NOVEL IX.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Emilio a Genuoess retires to Lucca, where using to hunt together, he contracts a friendship with Hippolito, and afterwards with his wife. Hippolito grows jealous, and becomes his enemy; but being assured that Emilio declared himself servant to Silvia, and repenting himself of his jealousy, he causeth his wife to lead him into a Chamber to reconcile them; His wife obeys, and enjoys Emilio, Hippolito knows it, and being discovered, and threatened, is pacified.  
GENUOA was the place where Emilio was born, whose unprosperous successes, confirm the opinion, That a man's natural Climate is commonly most unhappy. He observed how the treacheries of hidden enemies plotted his death, in conformity with his malignant destiny; whereupon he retires to Lucca, where his passions had no other release from his estrangment, from that heaven, where that star shone, which was the very Sun of his felicity, but the pleasure of hunting; spending the greatest part of his time amongst those Hills which surrounded the City; he rendered himself as formidable to the wild beasts, as he was pleasing and grateful to the Ladies and Cavaliers, who in those Villas enjoy the delights of the Autumn: According to the custom of Hunters, he often frequented a Coppice which extended itself over a little Hill, which the thicker it was, appeared the more delightful. He never entered it without bringing away store of game. In those parts there was one, who being invited by the delights of the situation and civility of the Inhabitants, whose name was Hippolito, being a lover of the sport, professed a singular friendship to Emilio; So that Cleria, Hippolito's wife contracted also so great a familiarity with him, that upon all occasions of invitation, he discoursed, and past the time with her, with such sports as the diversity of the season and place afforded; so that Cleria and Emilio were the promoters of all pastimes. The modesty and civility of Emilio, although a stranger, made way for him to any kind of familiar conversation. He so served the Ladies, that there appeared no partiality in him, more towards the one than the other; Cleria, above all, was endued by Nature with all those good Graces which are desirable in a Lady; besides, she was singularly courted by Emilio, and differently from the rest; acknowledged with a particular affections not only for her qualities, but also for the obligations he professed in consequence of the favours he had received, and for the strict friendship he had with her husband. Emilio, amongst these delights, enjoyed a calm life, which was afterwards troubled by Love, the occasion of all ill, which was raised in Cleria towards him. Emilio being given to hunting and other honest sports, thought those demonstrations, which upon many occasions Cleria used in her discourse, which her flames sent forth, sprightly jests from the familiarity of their conversation.  
Now it happened, that a day being appointed when the Cavaliers and Ladies were to meet at a Feast in a place, somewhat distant, whereby the Lovers had leave, modestly, to make the resentments of their minds appear.  
On that day's morning, the youth appeared in extravagant habits, and various desires, to witness by those colours the secrets of their hearts. Emilio, on the other side, despoiled himself of all which might seem to show any partiality in his thoughts: The Company having met at Hippolito's house; Cleria being full of caresses, began to discourse now with one, and then with another, turning to Emilio, she favours him with a smile, and says; It displeaseth me, to see that your Lady suffers you to appear so poor in favours. Emilio answered, That he wanted one; but the following day he hoped to make prize of one; and showing the manner how he intended to pursue his design, he shows her the gun he had one his shoulder. Then says Cleria, you would have a dead Lady. To whom Emilio replies, That he followed his deer, but to cast her down: Cleria adds, That since he had such thoughts; there was no Lady but would be proud of his service. I know very well, replies Emilio, That a Lady hath no greater pleasure, then to fall before those who desire her, and though she flees, she desires to be taken and overcome. I says Cleria, but by other means. For me, replies Emilio, at this time I know no other more proportionable means, than this for to compass my ends. At this answer, Hippolito, jestingly, says, Signior Emili, I shall resign you my wife for your Lady, assuring me that you will willingly quit me of the trouble; Cleria turning to her husband with a disdainful smile, says; I thank you with so good a heart, that perhaps you may repent it. They fell upon other discourse, till they all took their way towards the appointed place: Emilio walked along with Cleria, and led her by the hand, introducing by this opportunity, several discourses, whereto Cleria always concluded, That she indeed was his Mistress. Hippolito hath given me to you, now it belongs to you to cast me down, but believe me, I will not die alone; and at last, she said, she resolved to live hereafter, but only in and for him. These discourses assured Emilio of Cleria's heart, to his great displeasure; forasmuch, as her husband's friendship permitted him not so maliciously to offend him in his reputation. He answered her with ceremony, seeming not to understand the end she aimed at. The day passed with infinite solace; Emilio was only troubled, that he could not correspond with the Love of Cleria, whose beauty forced all hearts to adore her. After a few days, winter drawing near, Hippolito retreats to the Town to the great grief of Cleria, who thereby was deprived of the opportunity, so frequently and familiarly to commerce with her Dear. Before her departure she importunately exacted from him promises, with oaths, whereby she obliged him every day to let her see him in that street, where she lived, that at least she might be consolated with the sight of him. Emilio inviolably observes his promise, and thence forward, about the shutting up of the evening, his ordinary walk was by Cleria's window, who constantly expected him, giving him multiplied signs of Love; which being observed by many (neither can it happen otherwise, in what public place soever) raised the general opinion: That although very secretly, yet Emilio and Cleria were contented Lovers.  
There lived in Lucca, banished from his Country, Milan, one called Diego, a Gentleman of Spanish blood, who having observed the mutual looks which passed betwixt Cleria and Emilio, and concluding, that they secretly enjoyed the fruits of Love, he resolved to tempt his fortune with the Lady. And giving way to such thoughts, flies out in words; saying; that he even also would enjoy her, since she felicitated Emilio with an amorous correspondence. A Cavalier hears these words, and answers him: You have a very base esteem of Emilio; I know that he is not of such a humour, that he will either suffer a rival in love, or abandon the Lady. If he forsakes not his beloved, answers Diego, he must abandon his life. This his arrogancy displeased the Gentleman, so that he could not at least, but discover it to his friend, who, burning with disdain, was resolved to make trial of his pride. He prays his friend that he might do it alone; and presently going towards Cleria's street. He went not far, but Diego comes thither; Emilio order it so, that he meets him under the window where Cleria was; and with a loud voice, says, Signior Diego, this is the place where one of us must leave his life, or his Lady, and his hand accompanying his tongue, he at the same time draws his sword. Diego does the like, who although he behaved himself gallantly, yet he remains mortally wounded, and his death had suddenly followed, had not Cleria with her crying out, obliged Emilio to retire: Diego was carried home, and knowing that himself had been the cause of his mischance, was easily reconciled; so that their peace was soon made. The success was divul●'d in Lucca. The love of Cleria was found guilty, who by her husband who threatened to kill her, was sent away to his Country house. This opinion was noised about the Town, struck Emilio to the heart, since it covered her with shame, who was the soul of his soul, and that himself was accused, as having broken his faith with his friend Hippolito. He was afflicted so that he gave all up to despair, and thought on nothing, but to find out a way to undeceive the people, and recover the Lady her honour, and restore his own reputation. Being thus agitated in a Sea of trouble, he continued his accustomed walk through Cleria's street, to show that he had not yielded to Diego. Fortune had obliged Leonello, a Neapolitan Gentleman to love Silvia, by way of marriage, who lived just over against Cleria's house; He began to frequent that street, which suggested to Emilio's mind, that he might take this occasion to abolish the suspicion of those who persuaded themselves, that he for love of Cleria had fought with Diego. He hereupon resolves to quarrel with Leonello, and brings his intention to pass at such a time when Hippolito was looking out of the Window: and stopping him there; Emilio says to the other, with a lofty voice: That if he valued his own life, he should voluntarily banish himseelf from that street; nor any longer pretend to Silvia: Leonello, although a youth, encouraged by the presence of his Lady, who then looked on him, made ready to answer him with his sword, and boldly defends himself against Emilio: Yet he remains wounded, the other being a perfect good sword man, and at that time seconded with his own natural fury, reduced Leonello to beg his life of him, who as he was retiring wraps himself in his own cloak and falls. Emilio gets him up and leads him to his house, where, by the intercession of friends, they were soon pacified.  
Hippolito, who had seen all, was confused, and divulging the sequel about the City, firmly concluding, that both disputes had been for the love of Silvia; neither was there any who now doubted otherwise; forasmuch, as in both the written agreements, which were already published in Lucca, Emilio had always declared, how he drew his sword, out of his jealousy, for Silvia. Hippolito had no sooner thought himself an Actaeon, but he had shunned the company of the Hunter, and fled from Emilio, as a Buck from a Hound; speaking ill of him, and covertly threatening revenge. Emilio slighting his disdain, began to think, since he was free from the laws of friendship, how he might pursue his loves with Cleria, being continually sensible of the flames her beauty had caused, which obliged all his thoughts.  
Hippolito, on the other side, repenting his past suspicions, every hour condemning his folly, for having yielded to so self a belief; he resolves to bring his wife to Town again; who had notice of all what had passed in Lucca; whereupon she conceived so great a hatred against Emilio, that her desires machinated nothing but his ruin, as absolutely believing Emilio enamoured of Silvia; Hippolito endeavours to reconcile their former friendship, refused by the other, who now aspired to be of his kindred. Emilio continued to pass before Cleria's house, feigning always to court Silvia, who giving credit to the appearances, with an amorous correspondence favoured the demonstrations of his affection, as far as the terms and limits of civility permitted her. Hippolito at last thought on all those means which might be fit to procure Emilio to be again friendly with him, and to that end, commands his wife to do the best offices she could possibly in his favour towards Silvia. It being Carnevale time, he appoints a ball to be danced in his own house, whereto he also invites Silvia, hoping that the love of her, would likewise bring thither Emilio So it was, taking the opportunity of disguising himself in a masking habit, he embraceth the party and comes: He was known by Hippolito, who order Cleria, who was masked, to speak to him of Silvia, offering her assistance, kindly forcing him to enter into a certain chamber to drink, imposing on her, besides, that she would not suffer him to departed before she had pacified him, and reconciled them as they were before, familiar friends. Cleria quickly executes her husband's commands, and going out of the Feastival Room, invites Emilio to dance, and danceth with him after the custom of Lucca. She gins to discourse with him, and asks him of his Mistress; Emilio foons discovers her, and with a languishing sigh answered her, That from her alone, he could hear the most desirable news. They both pressed on the others hands, speaking rather with their sighs, then with their words. The Ball being ended, Cleria goes out, having Emilio by the hand, and brings him into a Chamber joining to the Hall, under pretence, that who she had with her would unmasked themselves to drink, but would not be known, and therefore sends away the servant, who kept it. The door being shut, and she alone with Emilio, presently takes off the vizard from both their faces. Then she draws out a Dagger, and tells him; To vindicate the injuries of thy perfidiousness, Traitor, I should sheathe this in thy heart, but that I know one death is not sufficient to revenge the outrages thou hast done me. At these words Emilio kneeling down opens his naked breast, saying; Satisfy then, O my dearest, thy desires, although I have erred in nothing, but in loving thee too much. Thou liest, says she; Thou hast to my shame and despite loved Silvia. Kill me then, replies Emilio, that in those characters engraven in my heart, you may have a sufficient testimony, that I always adored none but you. Would you have me then kill you, replies Cleria? so I resolve; arise, and come with me, for even now I will deliciate myself in thy death; which having said, she opens the door of another little Chamber, wherein there was a bed, and there knitting her arms about his neck, she unloosed them not, till she breathed her soul into him. Hippolito expecting to know to what end his wife had brought her undertake, thought well of her stay: and with this hope he went merrily and boldly about, believing that his desires would be felicitated by his reconciliation with Emilio. The good man knew not that his Ascendant was then entering into Cupricorn by means of Gemini. Cleria and Emilio at last retired to the dancing Room, diverting the toilsome pastimes of the others, in comparison of the private dance they had had. He dancing with Silvia, whilst retiring aside, she sets herself down. None observed Emilio's return, but Hippolito, who being curious to know what had been done, quickly accosts his wife, enquiring of the success: She remits the relation to a fit time; tells him only, That if another night she might repeat the endeavours she had made on Emilio's stubbornness, she was confident she should gain him. He was pleased at the motion of another feast for the following night, the better to effect the business which was advanced, being already disposed. Hippolito gladly appoints it, and thereupon they renew the invitation. All succeeding according to what had been ordered the precedent night. Cleria invites Emilio into the Chamber, which was the Theatre of their delights. But before them, Hippolito, to secure himself how his wife managed the business, retired secretly into the little Chamber, hiding himself under the bed. Without any suspicion, the Lovers shut the door, and on the Down they solace themselves, with the sweetest expressions of their loves. Hippolito being astonished at so unexpected a success, durst even scarce breath; He was disarmed, and on the otherside, saw Emilio well provided with Pistols; so that he thought, if he should discover himself he should certainly expose himself to death: What his sense was in so rude a necessity, to be a witness of the sports and pleasures of the Lovers, let him imagine, who can believe that he was not confounded with various passions. At last the amorous wrestlers being weary, aband on'd the Field, and going out of the Room, they heard I know not what rustling under the bed. Cleria being curious to know what it was, finds that it was her husband who was there; then she cries out, Alas, O Emilio, we are lost; The Lover moved at these words, and animated at the accident grew bold, and with his Pistol in his hand, he commands Hippolito to come forth, who, being afraid, would not raise his knees from the ground, before he was secured they would not take away his life, which he submissively begged from Emilio. He freely offered, both to him and to his wife, pardon for the injuries they had done his reputation. Cleria observing her husband's cowardliness, took heart, and interposeth her intercessions to divert the other, who always shown himself unresolved in the thought of killing him: he faigns to yield to her prayers; and deposing his disdain, he accepts the oblation of Cleria's pardon, praising Hippolito's prudence, for that resolution; showing, that such like errors are the more compatible; forasmuch, as there are commonly but few women, who inviolably observe the faith they owe their husbands. He said that silence and carelessness were forms fit in such matters, that a man need not be obliged to live continually disquieted with his arms in his hand, that in this present exigent all should sleep in perpetual oblivion; that even himself, as he had judged this occasion as a dream, so he should put it out of his remembrance. He promised that he would never commit the like with his wife; which she for her part also authenticates, assuring him, that she intended ever hereafter to live according to the laws of honour. Afterwards he protests with threats, that if for this occasion he should ever disgust Cleria, with the least sign of remembering this escape, he would reserve to himself a notable revenge. The other promiseth what was required of him, with the greatest Oaths and Assurances that his Mind could think; Obliging himself never more to trouble his thoughts with the remembrance thereof.  
With the truest Acts of a sincere affection this Agreement was made, of a peaceable Union: Neither was the peace ever broken; neither did they fail in their promises. Hippolito was obliged by the natural baseness of his mind, and the fear he conceived from the Lovers threaten; Cleria being warned by this danger, was persuaded to keep her replicated faith, knowing that it is always dangerous to violate it. And Emilio returning to his own Country, opposed absence to Love, whose Laws otherwise, perhaps, would have forced him to despise all other obligations.   

LIMISINDA.  
NOVEL X.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Gelindo to gain the love of Limifinda, secretly kills her husband; she suspecting it, and desirous to revenge it, invites Gelindo to lie with her; and instead of enjoyment, sacrificeth him to her disdain.  
WOMEN have not always, as some would persuade, been unfaithful to their Husbands; many examples are read of their imprudence, and very many may be related, which serve for Rules of Chastity; one among others which comes in my mind to discourse, certainly, may be numbered amongst the most laudable, worthy to be recommended to Posterity.  
In that City which after the destruction of Troy was built by Antenore, on the most famous River of Brent, after that Limisinda and Eusebio had loved with a singular correspondence of affection; They attained from the courteous favour of the Stars, and from the concordant will of their parents the desired end of their Loves: Being both bound together in the bonds of Matrimony, their affectionate union was not diminished, but so powerfully day by day increased, that they were singularly admired by all good husbands, and by all kind wives, but paralleled by none; although many at that time, by their example, obliged themselves to illustrate their marriage, with an access of affection. But Heaven is not always Serene; neither do Rivers always run with pure water. The beauty of Limisinda was of such a temper, that it made even such as Senocrates know themselves to be men, although without ornaments borrowed from Art, although seldom seen, although looked upon with curiosity by those eyes which beheld them, and desired by all hearts, innocently murderous they bond to themselves, amongst others, the good will of Gelindo; a youth to be respected amongst the first of his Country, both for the Nobility of his Blood, and for the Gentility of his Manners. He so fiercely loved the Lady, that he gave himself over to pursue her, with all manner of serviceable diligence. After a long succession of time, Limisinda was at last ware of the importunate solicitation, wherewith her new Lover pursued her; nevertheless, either she would not see, or cared not for him, but so despised him, that the miserable man, by reason of her honest behaviour, was often falling through despair into an excess of frenzy; he tempts by the force of prayers and presents, to possess himself of her servants, that at least he might procure them to present her with his service, or his letters; but none of them (knowing the Lady's disposition) durst take the boldness to offer it, being confident to incur only shame, and perhaps danger. The poor young Gentleman knew not what to do; he did his best to free himself from those chains; but all his endeavours were vain; Many many months were passed, yet in vain, he could not dispense with his love, having not, as yet, received the least sign, upon which he might ground the least hope, at any time of being loved again. Being agitated with all, and the greatest furies which can overwhelm the mind of a desperate Lover, The miserable man often thought even to bereave himself of his own life, that withal he might free himself from his torments. In these perturbations of mind he grew so weak, that every man thought he was even at death's door, and that with his loves he would cease to live. He had not, although he had a long time been a lover of Limisinda, discovered to any the secret of his heart: but seeing himself reduced to such a condition, that he had no more hope of safety, he resolved to desposit it in the bosom of a friend of his, whom, before others, from his childhood he had singularly preferred. To him he discovered what had been so long time hid in his breast, and in his words fell even to these expressions, that his ill was derived from no other cause, but from his love, and that he could attribute his death to nothing but the cruelty of Limisinda, thus being blinded with passion, did he wrongfully call the Lady's chastity, cruelty: not knowing that a man cannot die unless at the fatality of the determined time, he should believe that his death was caused by the beauty of a woman's face. His friend, who cordially loved him, and who would not have spared his own life to preserve Gelindo's, having reproved him, that he had not before discovered this secret to him; comforts him, persuading him to expect the health of his body, if he did but intent his cure, and so find a certain remedy for the sickness of his mind. Our Lover having received some ease from his friends words, and hoping that some time or other he would tell him some easy and secure way to gain the end of his desires; he with patience received the application of remedies for his disease, and after a few days (although his infirmity passed) slowly, yet he found himself freed of his indisposition, and scarce had he recovered but a part of his strength, when he had recourse to his friend, that the hopes which from him he had conceived in his mind might not be defrauded, desiring him to teach him the easiest way he could devise, whereby he might enjoy his Limisinda. His friend, who knew the Lady's virtue to be such, that it admitted of no parallel, and discovering in Gelindo an excess which might rather be called a foolish fury, than an amorous affection, with a free discourse seeks to reclaim him; showing him, that in following the vanity of his Cappricio's, or rather in persecuting the praise worthy constancy of Limisinda, he behaved himself like a mad man, who would plough the Sea, and catch the Wind in a Net; and finally, after a long discourse, concludes, That if he would not retire from his undertaking some ill accident would certainly befall him; That the Lady would either resolve to put him from his importunity, either accusing of him to her husband, or making it known to her kindred, who assuredly would not let pass unpunished so foolish a temerity, which endeavoured to slain, with notes of infamy, the honest reputation of another man's Family: Love admits of no advice; he acknowledgeth the truth of reason in his friends words, but it being not possessed by him, the words were but cast into the air; & with this answer, only, leaves he him. You shall soon see, saith he, whether I, or who else it is that shall be lost. His friend was astonished and afflicted, that he could nothing move him from avoiding those dangers, which threatened him if he should obstinately pursue his intentions. Many days were not past, when Eusebio going to a Villa of his, was shot in the flank with a brace of bullets, he knew not from whence; and having enmity with no man, he could not imagine from whom it should come. This hurt made him fall to the ground from his horse, so that he could not help himself, till some Country men passing by, who knew him, put him on their Cart, which was loaded with Corn, going for the City, and brought him home to his wife, who for the disaster which had befallen him, was unmeasurably afflicted. The Physicians and Chirurgeons were sent for, who knowing the wound to be mortal, gave him over; yet they did not forbear to apply the best remedies they knew, which were but all in vain; the miserable man, at the end of the seventh day, was forced to leave his life and his wife; I should say his wife first, since by him she was preferred before it. What sighs and complaints she made; how she toar with her white hands her golden locks, and beat her candent breast, cannot be expressed; the excess of them was so great, that men would hardly find faith to believe the truth of them. The last day of the month was scarce at an end, the fair having performed the obsequies of her deceased Husband, when Gelindo was observed, more than he was wont, frequently to go about the Lady's house, and with words and gestures to discover himself more inflamed then ever with her unparalleled beauty. He often tempts by means of a neighbour of hers, that she might procure her for him to wife; causing her in his name to make as generous offers, as could be made from a heart which loves immoderately. But all vainly succeeds, for she was resolved never to consent to any: the rather, for that, although she was not assured, yet she very much doubted, that her husband's death had been effected by none, but by Gelindo; so that she did not only deny to exchange love, but she returned him one of the fiercest hatreds that ever woman bore a man. Women as well in hatred, as in love, have no bridle but have both in excess. The most beautiful Widow nourishing the fire of this disdain within her heart, against Gelindo who adored her, often meditates to revenge her wronged and murdered husband: and because she could find out no way more secure, than one, which was to execute it with her own hands, she deliberates with herself, to dispatch it after this manner. It was about the end of the year of her mourning widowhood; when on a day she calls one of the most faithful amongst her maids, and having shut themselves up together in a secret Chamber, she speaks to her after this manner. Fosca, for so was her name, My long experience of thy fidelity towards my person assures me that I may confide in thee, even one of the highest resolutions which I ever made in the whole course of my life: but before I discover it, think well upon it, whether you can be sure to keep it secret, for if you find that you have not resolution enough to silence it, tell me that I may not speak it, and I shall take another expedient for to accomplish my thought. It's needless to relate what Fosca answered, it's enough that her words were such; that Limisinda pursued her already began discourse. I have always heard say, that its impossible for a young woman that's handsome, and that hath tasted the delights of her husband's embraces, to live long after his death without the company of a man; I have proved the truth thereof from the affections of my mind: I have endeavoured a long time since the death of my dear Eusebio (who is now amongst the Stars) to violence myself, and to repress the heat of youth, which a fresh fomented my desires of those amorous pleasures: but because I perceive it impossible any longer to overcome the force thereof, I have taken a resolution, that I will not live altogether the rest of my life, unaccompanied of a man: It's true, I would not subject myself to that Noose which is not to be unloosed betwixt man and woman, unless by the death of the one or other of them: Other thoughts, & other desires possess my mind. The Maid remained a while suspended at these words of her Mistress, who observing it, continued, Wonder not, my Fosca, at what I am to tell thee, and if you see me changed in my opinion, which in the esteem of all was of an unparalleled honesty, I must hereafter live otherwise. Resolve therefore on what I shall impose upon thee, for I am confident you will one day praise me, when you shall entirely know the end of these thoughts which revolve in my mind. Servitude, fidelity, and the importunity of a Lover, with the time, overcomes the most obstinate rigour of a woman's breast: I am not the first who have been subdued: If thou hadst ever found thyself in the like case, thou wouldst compassionate & help me, so that what thou art to execute may be effected with all possible secrecy, that it at no time may be known by any, but by us two and Gelindo, whom at the shutting in of the Evening thou art to expect at a window of the lower room; and when he according to his custom passeth by, cast him out this paper, wrapped up in this sarsenet, and then presently retire thyself, that he reading it, may think upon what he is to do. The wench takes the letter from her Mistress, and full of astonishment, by reason of the novelty of the accident, wonders at so unexpected a resolution: Yet she promiseth diligently to perform what was commanded her, and so departs to go about her other house affairs, till the hour come wherein she was to execute it.  
The Evening being come, Gelindo passeth the street, and whilst he cast his eyes towards the uppermost windows of Limisinda's house, where sometimes he had had the fortune to see her, there comes to him, thrown by the Maid, who stood hid behind the glass of a Balcony, in the lowermost part of the house, this letter involved; and having observed him to take it, she presently returns to her Mistress, to acquaint her with the success. The discreet widow showed some tokens of joy in her countenance, (women can feign at pleasure) and a fresh commands Fosca, that she should go into one of the lower Rooms and prepare a convenient bed, for that she was confident her Lover would that very night come to find her alone, and there she intended their amorous enjoyments. All was executed. Gelindo having opened the letter, reads it, and finds these words.  
GELINDO,  
BECAVSE it often happens that those women who easily give themselves in prey to young Lovers, find themselves quickly deceived and penitent: I, that I might not fall into the like error, would from length of time have experience of your faith, and affection; whereof being assured, I cannot deny you the reward of the excess of the love which I know you bear me. If it please you therefore about midnight to come to my house, where my Maid shall expect you, to let you in to the place where you may be happy: we will either contract marriage, or otherwise, as you shall think fit; Since I desire nothing more, then to be for ever  
Your Servant LIMISINDA.  
He was astonished at the reading of this Letter, and gave Love and Fortune thanks, that they had showed themselves so favourable towards him: Retiring himself full of thoughts to the others dwelling, expecting with impatience, & grievously sighing after that midnight, which was to be the last of his life. The hour came, and he departs, and alone goes to Limisinda's house; behind the door, which was half open, he finds Fosca, who with a small light in a little Lantern, stood there expecting him. He enters, and is presently led into the Chamber, which he fancied should be the Theatre of his Pleasures, but proved afterwards that of his Tragedy. O how ill doth a man oppose himself to what must happen! Alas, with what blind steps Love guides us to precipices.  
The Maid leaves him in the Chamber with some Candles lighted, and goes up Stairs to give notice to her Mistress. She having taken some Comfits, and some costly Wines, though sleepy; sends back the Maid, telling her; Bid Gelindo, from me, refresh himself with these Junkets, the better to prepare himself for those delights, and then come back and I will presently come to him. Fosca goes, and returns. The lovesick Gelindo, forced himself although against his will, to taste a part of them, and having taken a cup of Wine, he sends it down his breast, sending to his heart the advertisement of his own death. He had scarce drunk, but he finds his eyes out of measure possessed with a heavy sleep. He sits himself down on a Chair, and scarce was settled, but he falls profoundly asleep.  
When Limisinda imagined that the Poison began to work, she comes down Stairs, and enters the Room where Gelindo was asleep. The young Lady was in a confusion, and almost repent that she had before taken such a resolution: Nevertheless taking up her Heart with a Courage, and although she had hid a Dagger in a Corner of the Chamber, yet would she not take it; but takes from the young man that which he wore by his side, and striking it often through his throat, he not stirring at all, otherwise then stretching out his last with his Legs and his Arms.  
Thus died this unhappy man; and thus she sacrificed his Soul to the Soul of her dead Husband. Having executed this, she goes up and brings Fosca with her to terrify her with the horror of this miserable Spectacle. The Maid says twice or thrice with a loud voice, and with actions as of a desperate person. Alas, O God Alas! And had follwed it with other words, had not Limisinda cried out, and threatened to call out for the Neighbourhood, reversing all the crime on her. Poor Fosca was thus forced to be quiet, to fly her own shame, and the danger of punishment, which the Justice might have inflicted. And being helped by her Mistress, they silently carried the body to a place; where they buried it, that none ever knew any thing of the Fact, till many years after it was known from Limisinda herself a while before the hour of her death.  
Let the unwary Youth learn by this History to Regulate his Immoderate Affections: Nor so much trust Women, as to believe they may not at last be deceived.   

IRLANDO and ARMANDO.  
NOVEL XI.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Irlando and Armando love Rosalia, and Rosalia and Emilia love Irlando, and after many various deceits and turns of Fortune: finding fidelity in their Lovers, the Ladies fix a constant and sincere affection.  
IN Milan, a City the more noble, by how much the more ancient, the compendium of beauty was to be seen in the likeness of a most graceful Lady, who might have boasted to have debauched the graces from Venus, to get a glorious train for herself: Whensoever she made show of herself to the eyes of others, 'twas necessary to believe, that heaven keeping open Court did abundantly disperse its splendours. Who with a chance look could steal away pledges of Love, she had a perpetual light in her mind, which rallied up in the thoughts of all the height of the greatest beauties which possibly could be admired in a created object: Glances need not be repeated in that face, which lightning with Majesty, obliged the errors of a timorous boldness to correct themselves with modesty. Sitting sometimes at a window, she sent abroad Love her son to hunt after hearts, born from her eyes, and bred in the cradle of her lips, and reigning in the throne of her countenance. There were bound with the chains of her looks the souls of a thousand Lovers: With an extraordinary violence, being so near the sun, every one was constrained either to have the tenderness of his heart melted, or burnt with the bait of affections. In fine, the rays of Divinity could find no fit sphere, than that most beautiful face, when it would make itself visible to mortal eyes. It was once gazed on by two Cavaliers, born in France, but following their studies, inhabitants of that City.  
The conjunction of their minds had unanimously led them out of their Native Kingdom, and indissolvably linked them together with the tye of a singular friendship; inviolably observing the laws thereof, they never suffered their always regulated affections to disturb their mutual contentment. They were unanimous in their apparel and diet, inseparable in conversation, and indivisable in love; so that they it seemed agree● together to lose their liberties, the soul willingly following the looks, fled away to imprison itself (if we may call Heaven a prison) in the bosom of so eminent a beauty. They unanimously Courted the Idol, who on the Altar of her Window, received the victims of their hearts: they sometimes fixed their eyes on one another; I know not whether to move a mutual pity towards either's ardours, and to testify the excess of that beauty, which silencing the tongue, rendered the eyes talkative: yet was it superfluous for the eyes to speak the language of admiration, since all the visible species which that face represented, were as many Characters, which circumscribed the necessity of astonishment.  
It was needless also for them to communicate alternatively the kindled flames of their inward affections; since either of them had in him a living fire, wherein the most vital spirits of the mind were cousumed. But perhaps those looks were with more truth to be called effects of the already conceived jealousy of their hearts, for those beloved beauties, so that they would spy one the others countersigns parallel with their own, whereby they might conjecture the others love.  
The wind of a concordant sigh at last blows away the ashes which hide the fire of love; whereupon not to belie the truth, they both confessed themselves to be Lovers. A remedy for ills, which might have been bred with the discontent of their wills, in consideration of their ancient friendship, which ought not to suffer prejudice by this improvident fury, rather than affection; both of them did glory to yield this object to the other, which the more estimable it showed itself, it so much the more authenticated the excess of their faith, whereby they corresponded with a voluntary privation to felicitate his friend with the possession; with the touches of a gentle affection, they mutually consecrated to either's contentment; the enjoyment of that beauty, which although it was the life of their hearts, was willingly renounced by them, whose minds were the will and pleasure of his friends; this strife lasted long, till by an absolute protestation they both denied themselves to be Lovers.  
The like contest at the same time happened with the beloved Lady & a neighbour and friend of hers, who by accident was there at the same time when the two Cavaliers were looking on them. The beauties of her face were not despicable, but worthy of a public esteem, had they not been prejudiced by the vicinity of those which exceeded in beauty, even the ordinary power of Nature. They both observed the Cavaliers looks, wherein they saw the sparks of Love's fire, which cannot be hid when they transmit flames from the heart to the eyes. They were both also only pleased with Irlando, who was inferior in age, though superior in that desert, which by youth and beauty prevails with Ladies. In the course of their praises, they discovered either of them unawares their inward affections the more freely, having as yet not known the knot of their rivalship: but they were no sooner advised of the consent of their thoughts, which harmoniously agreed to the love of the only beauty, but they obliged themselves to repentance, lest they should go too far in their discourse. Emilia most of all, fearing a treacherous prejudice to her practices, being inferior to the other in beauty, thought to dissemble the inclination of her mind, absolutely denying to love Irlando, to retreeve the error she had before committed by the liberty of her discourse; yet within herself she resolves to outgo her with excess of favours, & forerun the others endeavours, who presumed the victory from the excess of her beauty. After some discourses, she taking leave, seeks to confound the remembrance of Love; yet with a solicitous diligence by countersigns, she sends to inquire that Cavalier's lodging, and writes him a letter to this purpose.  
SIR,  
I Cannot withhold myself from acquainting you that I am your Lover: 'twere to offend the singular merit of your condition, to think it hard for you to believe yourself adoreable, even from one who hath learned it but by the knowledge of a look only: I invite you to enjoy me, not to return me your love, for I dare not pretend such a reward, being obliged to sacrifice myself, since my affections have already destined me your victim; Besides, that I know no qualities in me worthy of you, I hope only that I may acquire with a flood of delights, the fertility of your love. I shall this night expect you, preparing a Room for you in my besom, where you shall receive the Caresses of that heart, which to please you would exviscerate your  
EMILIA.  
With these invitations she thought to catch the young man, who commonly loves but to enjoy. Sense predominating, causeth that violence with is attributed to affection: The end of his amorous thoughts are a bed, although he fancy a Celestial beauty for the Sphere. The offer of enjoyment was the fittest bait to make a prey of his heart, which sooner might be caught by the hook of once delights, then coloured appearances. Emilia being thus persuaded, resolves to be thus prodigal, to triumph over the other, whom she supposed to preserve the pride of her beauty in its height, would be more moderate of her favours, yet it even subdues the pride of that love which suppresseth Majesty, as contrary to its laws. She acknowledgeth the necessity of submitting to that power, which bragging of his triumphs over the Gods themselves, it might more reasonably carry away trophies from her, although she had a part of Divinity in her looks.  
Having long struggled with her thoughts, she at last yields, giving way to a wounded quill to distil floods of ink, with the like sentiment of her heart.  
SIR,  
THAT heart which persuades me that it was no temerity to love you, hath emboldened me to discover myself your Lover: I shall not multiply attestations to make you believe the truth of my Affection? My sudden resolution is a sufficient testimony with your singular desert: Your being a man, and in the quality of a Cavalier prescribes you the duty tomake you know this love I shall expect effects rather than promises; Resolve to answer me with your sight, & consent but to will what ought secretly to be approved by the desires of your  
ROSALIA.  
This Letter Rosalia writes, for so was her name, she using Emilia's messenger, who was also to deliver the other, wherewith she was already trusted: Their express charge to bury in silence these loves, woven the net, the business chief consisting on the mutual secrecy of these Lovers. They were Rivals without discordity, concurring even to prevail by the same means, which they had one way commenced, and on the other estranged themselves, from the pretended end.  
The like in the mean time happened to the two beforenamed Cavaliers. The revolution of thoughts dissolved, the promises they had made to love the Lady no more, lest their concurrence might break the union of their amity; either of them being assaulted with an army of passions, which warred under the same Ensign of that admired Beauty, was forced to hazard their friendship, that they might not vilify their love. Their inseparable conservation gave them no other means, but that of letters to instance their affections to their beloved, which required for their servitude the reward only of their Mistress' graces. So that unanimously, although disjunctively they resolve to put their hopes in byways, that the tract of their Characters might secure the following steps of their hopes. Irlando writes thus.  
Fairest Lady,  
I Cannot exaggerate the quality of my ardours, which are even extinguished by the ink, discredited by the Hiperboles which a pen can afford: Prohibit but these, and I am denied to express the truth of my affections; yet nevertheless, if the reflection of your countenance will illuminate the obscurity of these Characters, you will know what the fire is, which is enlightened by the rays of so much beauty. Admit me but to your presence, the tongues of my flames shall speak in my eyes, to witness that my heart is a living furnace; my blood shall assure you, that the wound of my affections is made by your looks; so that as its usual, in presence of my Murtheress, my face will show you a blushing mantle, to testify it worthy of a kiss; Besides, I shall show my heart not only wounded, but torn; whereby you cannot but be obliged out of pity to the duty of a civil correspondence.  
Your Servant and Lover IRLANDO.  
To testify his amorous thoughts he recommends this Letter, having sealed it up, to a faithful servant of his; commanding him to conceal, especially from his friend this love negotiation, affirming that secrecy was the chiefest part of his hopes. Who in the same manner, and with the same orders had received a Letter from Armando, for so was the other Cavalier called; In which, this was written.  
Fairest Lady,  
AFfection hath no bridle to restrain it within those limits, which bond the knowledge of my small merit unruly in Love's career from that point where it received the impulse of its violence, which being from your beauty, it's now at last reduced to this resolution; considering that all wills guided by reason are obliged to love what's fair; whereupon I ought not to fear the discovery of the excessive love of this heart, which were guilty, if it should not love you; If it act then conformable to its duty, it deserves no punishmen: forbidden your cruelty therefore to punish me with rigour, since I love you, and rather let it acquit me the reward of an amorous correspondence, obliging me to serve your merit with the weight of those sufferings which love begets; which you yourself knowing, may assure yourself that my affections lie not, but you ought also to consider it injust to suffer for me the fallacy of my hopes. It's sufficient, I say I love you, for your knowing what your beauty deserves, will also know what your affection owes to  
Your Servant in Love ARMANDO.  
Both these Letters come to Rosalia's hands almost at the same time, when those of their Messengers were delivered Irlando from the two Ladies. The soul of this Cavalier ran with its most vital spirits, to honour with gratitude that of his beloved. In the tenderness of his highest Jubily the affections extended themselves, that they might the more actively rise to the Sphere of so much contentment, and to shun the necessity of being carried away by the violence of so great a joy. Finding himself gratified with a correspondence which he desired, he thought he might presage, that his love would most happily succeed, when graces ran before the very flight of his desires, 'Twas fit for him to moderate the effects of so much sweetness in reading Emilia's Letter, whose civility rather invited, then enticed, that heart which rejoiced only in its effects, for the beauty of the other.  
Armando comes in when his eyes and his mind were attentively examining those Characters; to whom, smiling, he shows the Letter, discovering those heedless loves; but hides Rosalia's, esteeming, that confidence without judgement, might ruin the interest of his felicity. When Love will be alone, all his laws are contrary to those precepts which conversation or friendship hath established. The remembrance of Love raiseth suspicions, original even in him from his own knowledge, they having unanimously adored that Lady. But although they had had no occasion to doubt rivality, yet he might fear lest he might fail of such a beauty, who was so apt to afford favours and love: So that in discoursing of Emilia, he showed himself, even in his memory far from thinking on the other, naming her only when it was necessary to circumscribe this comparison of hers. The Gentleman, who thought this occasion fit to felicitate his thoughts, used all the efficacy possible to persuade his his friend not to refuse the favours of so loving a Lady; which if he could have obliged him to, he pretended that it would be free for him to seek Rosalia's love.  
Extending his discourse in her praise, celebrating her singular merit to show him how unjust the refusal of his affection would be. He tells him, that the fairer a woman is, she is so much the prouder, and less tractable than another, who being inferior in beauty, would be wanting as much of pride, which usually checks the delights of love. In a fair woman, quarrels and contests were ordinary, forasmuch as knowing the power her looks have over hearts, she always pretends such an Empire over her Lovers, that it often deserves the title of Tyranny. He added, that it was the common course of Nature, that where beauty was wanting, she supplied it with abundance of graces, which give the best relishes to amorous delights. At last he concluded; That when we aspire to the highest pitch of prosperity in love, a man never ought to make choice of a Lady of excessive beauty. It being sufficient, so she be not deformed to that heart which seeks true and continued enjoyments: In obliging them by the interest of higher contents, a man might perhaps presume to make the observance of that duty inevitable, whereby he was bound not to refuse the invitation of so much civility. And in fine, That his persuasions were not ill grounded: That as Emilia's beauty was not in excess, yet was it not far short. Yet all this could not pervert Irlando's thoughts, who treacherously glorious, applauded in himself how he was lifted up by his towering hopes to a heaven far more sublime: He could not have prejudiced his fortune by changing his proposed election for all the treasures of the world: yet on the other side, he fancies, thinking he might gain a greater liberty in his love with Rosalia, could his dissimulations but be credited, as made to Emilia. The other remains so fully deceived in believing these appearances; whence concluding that he could not offend their friendship, he designs to follow the ways of love with that Lady who wholly possessed his mind.  
Nevertheless Irlando advanceth to enjoyment, before the other procures himself to be loved. He writes back to both the Ladies with a divers sense, according to the pleasure of his affections, or according to the little correspondence of his mind. Those he sent to Rosalia were thus expressed.  
Fairest Lady,  
THE showers of your civilities, which dissolves in deluges of grace, might justly threaten tempests of disdain, should I not come to enjoy the presence of that sun, from which there distils a dew of delights. To night I shall come to sacrifice my life with a sweet death on the Altar of your breast. I beseech you to appoint the shelter of my felicity in your friends and neighbour's house, retiring yourself thither for this night, I have already understood by your Messenger, that there is a door which affords the commanding of a mutual passage, whereby it will without difficulty succeed. You shall from me understand the reasons hereof: Expect till I authenticate with more devout obsequiousness the excess of my affection and obligations, who now only reverently incline to that heaven, which so prodigiously hath dispensed the influence of so many favours.  
He gave another form to the Letter directed to Emilia; wherein he thus writ.  
A Treacherous liberty makes a man sometimes believe himself abused, even when he is favoured; so that the excess of your civility in loving me, being superior to any desert of mine, is esteemed by me as the pleasant sport of your affection; and for such I receive them, so that I esteem myself disobliged to a true correspondence in Love: besides, that I am altogether incapable of such a Lady's favour, which being so ill placed, would on the one side be too much slighted, or being on the other side too heavy, would oppress me: Besides, I refuse not your favours to withdraw myself from the burden of your obligations, but that I may not appear a Monster by the union of so much grace with so little merit. Reserve those Treasures to honour more worthy Subjects, since from the obligation only, I am already gained to your service; I shall indelibly preserve my part of such a debt to repay it, by serving, if not by loving you.  
These Letters being sealed, he distinguished them only with a mark, of which he gave the bearer notice which he was to give Rosalia, and which to Emilia. The chance was, that the servant either forgetting the marks, or mistaken in the knowledge, in the delivery, betrays his Master's will, yet not Fortune. Emilia looking on the letters which were written to Rosalia, presenting the readiness of an affectionate correspondence, was possessed with the extremities of an unspeakable joy; the satisfaction of her desires, was the height of her greatest contentments which she presumed she could taste at the table of earthly delights, with a perfect complacency, thinking she had gotten her own will, she rejoiced in herself in the sublimity of those conceits which might cause her to see herself no less fortunate, than she was reverenced.  
Rosalia's thoughts were otherwise divided, disdaining those refusals which she thought impossible for any who had eyes to see her beauty. Her fury machinated a rigorous revenge; but her pride commanded her to vindicate herself by disdain only. That beauty which presumed itself envied by heaven, provoked her to treachery, seeing itself slighted by a man; yet could she not contain herself from witnessing the sense of her mind, which committing to paper, in these words she presents to the knowledge of Irlando.  
HE knows not how to adjust himself to receive favours, who knows not how to deserve them: He who will not receive from heaven the fecondity of Rain, let him expect the cruelty of Thunder. I condemn you to a perpetual exile from my presence, from the place where I dwell; you shall know me for an Enemy, since you would not enjoy me as a Lover; Thus I intent not to punish you, but to correct my own error, which was committed, in loving you, by  
ROSAlIA.  
These Characters had been much more grateful to the Gentleman, if as they were a bar to the felicity of his contentment, they had brought with them the end of his life; grief wrought not his death, it went farther, it stupefied him. He esteemed this torment a punishment, for having treacherously been lifted up with boldness on the foundations of her civility; knowing no other crime in him, but his speed to run to the offered bait: He judged that this sudden rigour, was a penance for having been contrary to the condition of her sex, too liberal of her favours: He considers that the efficacy of humility, the force of prayers and of conspiracies might remove the sinister influence of this his Star. Whereupon he resolves, either with art, or with the importunity of prayers to gain admittance into her presence, and then his tongue being animated with accents from the interest of his heart, would move the instances of an affectionate pity. That very night he resolves to have recourse to the Tribunal of Love, where the justice of Reason would not be excluded; if they were not exalted.  
Emilia in the mean time, by the stealth of chance, enjoyed that prosperity which was the others due. In conformity to the order received in her Lover's Letter, she entreats Rosalia for that night to change houses with her, and civilizeth the demand with the excuse of an abusive deceit happened to a Maid of hers. She obtains her desire without opposition, which their friendship prohibited and the opportunity of gratifying required. In these walls she fancies that height of enjoyment which her thoughts expected from the embraces of a young Lover. All her Affections were vows directed to the Temple of Love, in gratitude for that prosperity which so singularly favoured her. Had time moved according to her importunity, hours would have fled like minutes rendered swift by the wings of her desire.  
Irlando also with the air of his sighs solicited the Sun to take his lodging in the Sea, so that the succeeding obscurity of the night might favourably bring him to Rosalia to quench her disdain. He had a thousand Chimeras of punishments, fancied new forms of humiliations, extraordinary sings of penance, that he might last of all conceive the request of her lost favour. He pants to get to that gate, on the threshold whereof he resolved to terminate the course of his life, could he not find means for his hoped for pardon. He goes to the very house of Rosalia, thinking that her disdain would not have suffered her to second his demands, by the change he had intimated in his Letter.  
He was little less than stupefied, when in appearance he seemed deluded from the like fear, seeing himself courteously introduced by the servants, who as it seemed had stayed long waiting for him, and hearing his name they presently freely admitted him: which was by Emilia's order, who impatient of delay, had sent them to meet and receive him. He could not believe that such like honours proceeded by their error of not knowing him; It being so, that the more they confirmed themselves in knowing him to be Irlando, with so much the more courteous obsequiousness was he respected. At the inquiries he made of the Lady, under the name of their Mistress, he was answered, that she expected him with troubles, for his stay had been intolerable, had he prolonged the enjoyment of his presence. He was astonished within himself unable to conceive affections of wonder equal to that accident, hearing attestations of love, when to himself he had only received Characters of assurances of hatred.  
He then would by several replies be certified, whether that were Rosalia's house, he could not but believe himself deceived, thinking it impossible, that he should be come thither to receive favours, when he purposely came to beg pardon. When at last he was undeceived of all error, either from himself, or the servants, he gins to doubt least those incitements of security were not directed only to betray him: He suspects least snares to revenge herself were hidden under that feigned appearance of love, and that heaven appeared serene the more grievously to punish him with the thunder of her disdain. Having pulled up his courage, he went up the stairs, considering, that he ought not to abhor to fall a victim immerced in his own blood in her house whom he had adored.  
Being come to the top he meets Emilia, who taking him fast by the right hand, without saying any thing to him, leads him alone with her into a Chamber. At this action the Gentleman had a greater occasion to ground his suspicions. He with reason doubted, that she being offended by his refusals, and thereupon out of disdain had with the other conspired his ruin. He condemns the fallacy of such thoughts; when the door being shut, Emilia gins with sweet kisses and affectionate embraces to express the tenderness of her exviscerated passion. His civility was confounded with these replicated encomiums, professing to gratify his favours; so much the more did these move Irlando to astonishment, not knowing what obligation of gratitude she could have, unless she was of his race, who esteemed offences, and slights favours. The Lady seeing this sullen starchness in her Lover, and appropriating the cause to a coldness of Nature, even to a chillness, she thought to warm him with using the more carresses and courtships, the exhalations of an amorous fire. Yet he stifning himself the more at this heat, instead to liquifie a sweet tenderness of heart, she toucheth him with the iron of reproof to try of what stuff he was made, since he obstinately resisted the flames, which every way issued to fire him; since he neither restrained the knot of her embraces, nor returned the strokes of her kisses, nor counterchanged the words of her carresses. Perhaps, says she, I am a Medusa, since with the shield of my looks I change them who look upon me into stones? What novelty renders you insensible? What change renders you  to my amorous effects? Did you then so courteously consent to my invitation, and do you now despise the gift: Did you admit into the breast of your civility my offers, and now do you refuse the favours.  
Let it not invigorate your passion (answered Irlando) that you see yourself deprived of your preceded contents, since your hopes are unjustly clothed with the spoils of my affection; I am astonished, that the denials I sent you in my Letters, advised you not what a correspondence you might expect in the most evident expressions of love.  
What denials, says she, (with the signs of astonishment) do you speak of? what Letters? Rather because I credited yours now I may say scorns, which before I thought the acts of a Gentleman, whom I have but too much favoured. In saying so, she shows him the Letter, which discovers the deceit to his understanding. In looking over those lines, which were paths of love, made for his heart to make way to Rosalia. Do you call these, said the Lady, denials? Are these demonstrations of love importunate and unfit? Alas, either the remembrance betrays the intention to have scorned me, or the pen in writing betrays the heart which refuseth me.  
Afflict not yourself, Madam, says Irlando, as despised by me, who may rather complain as having been abused by Fortune. There is no crime in this, that your hopes should rise where the accomplishment cannot succeed. Mine was to give flight to these amorous Characters, that they might nest my affections in Rosalia bosom. Chance brought them to yours, which was his mistake to whom I trusted my Letters for their safe delivery. You are not therefore to think yourself offended, since he doth not despise the desert of a Lady whom he cannot love, chief because his affections are obliged to another. This passion naturally knowing no curb or rule, thinks it its property to run whether its genius or sense inclines it: I am forced by your civility and love to be obliged to you, though I cannot be a Lover. Love, as an act of free will, knows no other laws but election. If this gratify not your desires, condemn Destiny or Cupid, and not me who respect and admire in you your admirable qualities.  
Emilia's thoughts being undeceived, she obliged them to aspire to another sphere, for that there they could not fix the Centre of their felicities. She lets him go, feigning a disdain with all possible appearance, that she might not be seen in a necessity to beg a man's love. The Gentleman goes out of the house, thinking he went out of hell, where his stay every moment had increased new griefs. The cause being already understood of the revolution of Rosalia's affections, had fixed in his thoughts the recovering of the loss of her love, by assuring her, that not his own despite, but the abuse of Fortune had provoked his disdain. He assured himself of regaining her favour, when from the quality of the accident she should acknowledge the bonds of his sincerity. Her fury not suffering her to attend to words, he determines to discriminate himself in a Letter, wherein he described what happened by another's, and not by his fault.  
Yet they came not in a prosperous time according to his desires; Rosalia being solicited by these recriminations to her believed disdain, at the coming of Armando's Letter, she was persuaded to give herself with her affections to him; since by his refusal, Irlando had already rendered himself undeserving. To oblige these, she considered, that there resplended more in him the conditions of a complete Cavalier, and consequently, that he more deserved to be loved. Resolving at last to employ her thoughts, which being kept idle, might perhaps reconcentrate again in Irlando, she wrote for an answer to his, as followeth.  
SIR,  
BEing honoured by your favours, I ought to be grateful by my correspondence. Should I refuse to be loved by you, I should prejudice myself by depriving myself of a greater glory than I can pretend to deserve. If even it were grateful to me to be beleved without returning you love, it would be unjustly to enjoy those graces without exchange of obligation. Be therefore assured of my affection, for a pledge of which, I to night invite you to the Chamber of Emilia my Neighbour, where the comfort of your presence shall be expected by  
ROSALIA.  
The news of so much felicity came late to Armando, yet he speedily transports himself to take possession. Whereupon at the same time, wherein Irlando contested with Emilia, he enjoyed his practice with Rosulia: Being pleased with her fashions, he long entertains himself with her, who flattering him with the others refufal, which had necessitated her, to apply her affections in such a change, to so worthy a Cavalier. Taking leave, he returns home, commencing to prove those impatient long, which obliged him to expect the evening of the following day, when he was to continue his amorous conversation. He runs quickly to his friend, to whom he imparts the excess of his joy, relating the fortunate success of his loves. He a great while holds him doubtful, jestingly relating him, how kind and courteous the Lady was, till at last he discovers her to be Rosalia, courted and admired mutually by them but a few days before. He shows the Letter wherein he received the invitation, conformable to which he swore the effects of her civility were.  
It's easier to fancy then to describe, what conceits this relation produced in Irlando's mind. It's to be believed that the grief of his heart corroded his bowels, aswel as it desperately tore his heart in pieces. Knowing that the occasion of all this, was only the miscarriage of the Letter, cursing him that had been the cause of his torment. The certainty, which on the otherside, his beloved enjoyed, was not an ordinary vexation, for one who excessively loved. He protested he was troubled with an inward grief of heart, that he might take himself off from the necessity of an affectionate congratulation, for the contentment of so good a friend. No less could feigning form effects of joy, where the heart was over whelmed with the abundance of intolerable grief: His bed was all that night a hell, his soul being distracted in the confusion of his turbulent thoughts, shipwrecked his quiet, even in the depths of despair.  
The next day he resolves to send a Letter, the contents whereof were to signify the injustice of those chastisements which the cruelty of his beloved inflicted; when he had never the least way undeserved her good graces. He was glad to make the sincerity of his soul, appear in hope, that upon the knowledge of the truth, her affections would change. So it happened, because that by the mistaken countersignes, Rosalia was assured that there was no fault in Irlando deserving her disdain; she soon changeth her hatred into love, priding of it to have reacquired that happiness which she thought she had lost by his discourteous rigour. This change was nothing difficult, besides, being necessitated by the proper volubility of her sex, she took occasion not to be buried, but only asleep towards him in affection. To have loved Armando, as they say, for a divertisement, which yet hindered not the inclination of her heart, to him who first was possessed of the Centre. Whereupon she thus writes.  
YOU and I being equally deceived, we can convert our reproofs and complaints against none but Fortune. I perceiving myself scorned, was obliged to vindicate myself with rigour. Now being undeceived, I restore you to the place, even to the throne of my affections, where your desert rules and commands; I shall be so much the more affectionate in rewarding your faith, as I was rigid in cashiering you out of my breast; Come therefore this night to my house, to reap the fruits of your sufferings, and of my repentance, to your  
ROSALIA.  
He who carried this Letter, had withal order to give into Armando's hands a note, in which the same Lady had thus written.  
FOR what happened happily for you yesterday you are obliged to Fortune and not to love. Now being to obey him, I am obliged to please others. I forbidden you therefore to pretend to me any more, retracting all promises, whereon you might build your hopes: Remember no more what's past, and think no more of me for the future.  
I am no more yours, 'Tis sufficient to let you understand, that you may live content with what Fortune hath already given you, without seeking any longer what you cannot obtain.  
ROSALIA.  
These Characters changed the Scene both in the mind and countenance of the two Gentlemen, Armando, who gloried to have surmounted such a felicity, seeing himself at once cast down from that height whence he thought he could not have been removed, never thrown down, changed his mirth into an equal grief of heart and vexation; Irlando, on the other side, who being afflicted, tormented himself for having been too severely used from her, who had authority to condemn his heart by a mortal sentence; seeing himself invited to enjoyments, clears up with the splendour of so much contentment the heaven of his offuscated mind, from the clouds of his grievous torments. A man might read in both their faces this change unexpectedly cast about, not known by what accident.  
Armando could not conceal his complaints, which proceeded from a mind full of grief; there came to light from his tongue, which feeding with a friendly confidence, with a long discourse in dispraise of the inconstancy of women, he gins to publish the arms which had wounded him, till at last he discovers the wound which was the original of his grief. He shows those Characters the unhappy messengers of his infelicity, and the foundation of his grief. He vehemently exaggerates against the treacheries of women, who feigning high excesses of love, at last discovered frauds and snares. Being at last carried away with the current of a grievous heart breaking, he flew into words, which came from the predominancy of his passion, till at last he concluded, that he would go to her house and reprove her for her treacheries, if by the justice of his complaints he could not obtain the turn of her affection.  
These last words the fortunate Gentleman particularly observed; whereupon, that he might have no disturbance in his enjoyment, he advised his beloved of his rivals intention, ordering her to expect his coming in Emilia's house.  
Rosalia at last relates to that friend of hers the entertainment she had the night before with Armando, adding singular encomiums of his grateful behaviour, which invited even hearts of stone to love him. Emilia, whose memory represented to her the proofs of a rigorous severity in Irlando, was quickly taken with such like informations. Her desires approved those effects, to felicitate themselves with a most civil correspondence, which supposing out of her former experience of the other, would surely be in Armando. The buds of such a desire could not but disclose themselves in her words; whereupon Rosalia making use of the occasion, yielded him for her satisfaction for that night. The terms of ceremony wherewith she refused that too courteous offer, could not stop the way of executing the others thoughts, who feigning to satisfy her gust, served also her own interest. She brought her to the change again of houses, as where she might enjoy him, who was by her commands obliged to come thither about two of the clock at night. She finally fits every thing in hope to make way to the despite of Irlando, by the favour of the other Gentleman, from whose civility she pretended her heartburning love would be assuaged.  
With these imaginary comforts she solaced her grief, whilst with the assurance of real contentment, the other confirmed her mind with her desired consolations. Irlando at last goes to her enjoyment; Armando, at least as he thought, to contention. Both were civilly admitted, not without the astonishment of the one, who thought his admittance prohibited by disdain; seeing his way made plain by love. His heart leapt at this incredible novelty, which before was sunk with despair: Fancying a happy omen to himself, he thought to resolve those words in thanksgivings, which like clouds thickened with fury, threatened to fulminate reproofs. The reception of Emilia forewarning him of a cheat renewed the tumult of his thoughts; which afterwards conspired to torment him; when having enquired after Rosalia, she answered him, That she was there in her steed, she herself having made the change. Hence she went to speak of love, promising to act that person in all degrees of complacency which might satisfy a Lover. And thereupon with carresses and other love tricks, she began to wove those delights, which alone captivate the sense.  
Yet did his affection spume away, even those powerful motives of sense, obstinately obliging him to continue his vassaladge to the others beauty, who although she was ungrateful, yet she did not forbear to be adoreable; nevertheless the bridle of consideration imposed rules to this disorder, suggesting as unreasonable to despise the favours of so kind a Lady, in hope to aspire to the others favours, who even loathed him. So that with his genius, and with his consent, he inclined to that part, which with reason predominated even to enjoyment. He was not inferior to his friend in running through the lists of delight, whose bounds and career, were her fair breasts. These two fortunate couple of Lovers will have no cause to envy one the other, both being equally in the road of contentemnt, if not of old of newer loves, and far more vehement affections. Thus Emilia and Armando revolved the sails of their thoughts fitted to the wind, their hopes being already undeceived to find harbour whereto their desires had at first steered. The dispute of Rivalship being thus taken away, the practice of these Lover was free, between whom mutually there was a straight knot of friendship. Yet the flight of this liberty a fresh transports the affections to the shunned post of their election, Irlando loves Emilia, and Rosalia Armando. The cause of this change was, either the usual property, to find that loathsome which we have long enjoyed, or the ordinary condition of our desires, which always more ardently aspires to the possession of that, which we may acquire by depriving ourselves of the other. Others things seem always better to us then our own; forasmuch, as being obliged by our being to be always content its necessary, that not vallewing what we enjoy, we desire what we see another possess; principally in love, which the likeness of fire shows whose common condition is to aspire to new objects.  
This element the greater nourishment it receives, as it were to glut the pride of its ardours, raising its flames so much the higher seems to demonstrate the voracity of its appetite, greedy of making new prey.  
As novelties most delight, so the thoughts began to suggest hopes of more grateful felicities in these new Lovers. Irlando to whom these desires shut the fight to the beauties of Rosalia, considered in the other the excess of such a good grace, that it engraved in his heart the adorable idol of his affections. The Lady also who saw that Emilia was had in greater esteem of Armando, whom she thought far inferior to her in desert, resolved presently subjection of love to him, who could acknowledge it with the greater tribute of reverence.  
This change of their own wills was conceited with looks, carresses, and jests, which being the effect of a friendly union, degenerate into affectionate accents. Emilia was satisfied with the behaviour of her Lover, and gave way to no thoughts which bore not the marks of her being consecrated to him. Even Armando also remembering the great kindness, with which his Lady at first confirmed the excess of love before she revealed it, had obliged his heart to preserve his affections, that he could not mix them with those which carried any other image but that of Emilia. So that those two lost the field, being excluded from any correspondency, who first of all entered loves Capital in triumph. To continue it amongst themselves, it seemed impossible, for their lukewarmness was soon converted into coldness, and that into ice, so that at last disdain and loathe sprung from corrupt dispositions, each of them thinking themselves obliged to revenge the others infidelity, or at least inconstancy, which begot an exceeding hatred to parallel the punishment with the crime.  
The assaults were revolved against the true Lovers, who in opposition to their discord rendered the indissolveable union of their affections the more strongly fortified: mutually confessing their genius transported out of the centre of themselves, and locked up within the circumference of their amorous wills, agreeing to cast off the love of their two friends, although to their disgust. With feigned fictions they persuaded the more highly to fix these roots in their hearts, which used to breed affectionate correspondence, that jealousy might not move the others to suspend or prohibit them this commerce, wherein these rivals equally found acquest of enjoyments. Familiarity sometimes permitted a kiss to be snatched, whereof these Lovers took an usurious interest, considering the penury of other pleasures. The occasion of a jest obliged a caress, and those endearments without offending those minds with suspicions, who thinking even that the others hearts were interchangeably knit, they doubted not that aspiring to any other object, they would by their rivalship disturb their contentment.  
Rosalia at last being importuned by accidity, with the more pleasure to terminate these deceits, renders her friend jealous, with a feigned jealousy of her own. She seems to doubt that the Lovers being tired with their long possession, were equally traitors of their obliged faith. She said, that she knew very well, that Armando's mind was inclined towards her, as one the other side, she perceived her Lover's heart aspire towards her. Being thus persuaded to discover the proof of this truth, they should one evening fraudulently exchange the Gentlemen: and by this occasion, the liberty of amorous demonstrations would discover to whom their affections most inclined. They promised one the other to revenge the the others offended faith with rigorous reproofs; when the vail of dissimulation was taken off, and the stains of treachery appeared. The other being after this manner imbued with suspicions, consents to the experiment, to assure herself of this relation, of her pretended faithful friend.  
Thus Rosalia with Armando, and Irlando with Emilia were in posture to complete the web of their own contentments, brought about by this cheat. The two Ladies one evening invited their two Lovers to a private treat every one at her own house. And afterwards by the ordinary change they betrayed the effects of their promise, whereupon the success answered the design. The true Lovers being disturbed at the change, Emilia and Armando, with signs but little grateful, soon stifled the others hopes. And made it appear, that the contentment of the mind was not pleased to change its sphere, that it might not vary the motion of affections. At last with all the art they could use, they could never stir that constancy, which being rendered invariable, knew no accident whereby it might overturn or overthrow itself; So that least these temptations might be converted into fury, against her or of disdain against themselves, they protested it was only a mistrust of faith, exposed to the cement for that they doubted they wanted the triumphs of perseverance.  
The beauties of Rosalia blushed, finding that being prostrate, they could not obtain love: Besides, these blushes were acknowledged for signs, that her mind was wounded with remorse, for a punishment of her being so changeable, when another by the force of her beauty, and violenc of her carresses could not be persuaded to be inconstant. Warned of her error she recollects her thoughts and refixeth them on Irlando to preserve the quiet of her mind, by the immutability of her will. She considered that the election made at another time on the value of his grateful qualities, confirmed by his not loving her, that she was rather insatiable then voluble. Having at last fixed her resolution, she resolves never to be moved by the impulse of unbridled desires. Irlando being assured of these thoughts, resolves to keep her as the only miror of his felicities, from whose looks alone he drew the image of his contentment. He could not but glory in the possession of so fair a Lady, the life of whose glory drew breath from the air of the sighs of those who desired her; correcting the error of his corrupted gust, for having not esteemed what others Idolised; he afresh obligeth himself to her in an amorous conjunction, with oaths to maintain the knot undissolveable. Thus both these two couple of Friends and Lovers, happily hung the vows of their own affections in the Temple of Faith, and erected an Altar to Love on the Pillar of Constancy.   

EPIDORO.  
NOVEL XII.  
The ARGUMENT.  
Epidoro a young Florentine, being deceived by a Masker, whom he believed to be Leena a Lady of honour, is found in the embraces of her Chambermaid, and for his own safety is forced to marry her.  
TO enjoy the delights of the Carneval there resided in Venice, Epidoro a young Florentine of a very mean birth, but his father's avarice had gained him a kind of reputation. He by the death of his progenitors was gotten into an estate, which did not only enlighten the obscurity of his birth, but moved his desires to the prosecution of those pleasures which are often longed for by great ones. So that in Venice there was no public feast, game, or recreation, whereto he did not come. One evening his heart was ravished by an imaginary, the dress and behaviour of a Masker represented such fancies to his imagination, that he confessed himself the lover of a face, before he had seen it; and the follies of his mind ended not there, so that having warily followed her as she parted from the ball, he saw her go into the house of one of the prime Gentlemen of the City, to whom amongst other things, which concurred to make him humanely happy, his wife's beauty not a little contributed: It fell out in his thoughts, that the Masker must be Leena, forso the Lady was called, which the more inflamed him, and which the more invigorated his new desires, he the next day knew Leena with some of the same garments, wherewith he had seen the Masker adorned. The difficulty of the enterprise heightened his spirits which encouraged him to tempt all means; neither was Fortune wanting in showing her to him; when the same evening the Masker came to the Ball; he having been very officious, seeing no small correspondence in her looks, the concourse of the people not giving way to observation; tells her; Madam, Did not my tongue fear the crime of temerity, I durst dicover the fire which is nourished in my bosom, and should offer you the use of that love, which is the greater, the more hid it is. Did you know, answered the Masker, who was hid under this habit, your heart would repent what your tongue foments. My heart, Madam, replies Epidoro, bears no desires, but from the knowledge of the desert which your singular beauty hath begot. To gain the name of lover, then says the Masker, you care not to have the repute of a Glazier. Tell me, How can you form a judgement on the beauties of that face, which you never saw but hid under a vizard. A man may, replies afresh Epidoro, make a judgement of the Sun's splendour although it be covered with a cloud. But my eyes too much force myheart to sacrilege, by introducing therein the image of your beauty. Madam Leena, is it possible to hid the affection of a Lover who hath Arus his eyes, To say, I adore you, is the greatest testimony that a mouth can utter, but the lest resentmenta heart can express. It's you may felicitate me; great undertake are not without great difficulties. Love who can snatch the thunder, even from the hands of Jupiter himself, can make plain the very mountains of impossibility. He would have said more had not the Masker, with some trouble, cut off his discourse, by telling him, When you spoke to me without knowing me, I bore with your ignorance, now knowing me with the greater presumption of your boldness to tempt me, I cannot but blame your insolence; Did I not fear to prejudice mine own honour, by having been a subject to subminister such thoughts, so inferior to my condition, I would cause your penance to be the least ill you should suffer for you temerity. But whilst she uttered these words, her hand and her eyes betrayed her tongue, and assured Epidoro, by all possible favours, that those resentments were endeavours of civility, and not effects of disdain. Thus the Feastival ended, so that Epidoro was forced to retire with all the disturbance which assault the youth and indiscretion of a Lover. Having expected the following night, which was the last of the Carneval, with all those vows which use to accompany the impatience of an amorous heart. Scarce did the stars begin to glory of the light which they borrowed from the Sun, but he came to the accustomed Ball: Not far from thence he meets the well known Masker, although with all art she had thought to hid herself from the curiosity of Epidoro. He taking her by the hand endeavours by these words to make her believe his affection. Fair Leena, you may by your change of habit deceive the eyes of other men, but never my heart, which by united means, and diffused heat to all my parts acknowledgeth, and adores you as a Divinity. I wish that with last night's garments, you may have deposed some of your coyness, which rendered you so adverse to my love: Know besides, that cruelty is an improper attribute to the Divinity of your beauty, and beauty which is not communicable to all, opposeth itself directly to the will of Heaven. Should Heaven replies the Masker, command me to love you, perhaps the laws of honesty the danger of my life, and the inconstancy of men would not be bridle sufficient to the debility of my affections. The beauty of your looks, answers Epidoro, is a record of Heaven; which admonisheth you not to be avaricious of its favours, when enriching you with beauty, it hath impoverished of praise the Fairest conceptions. Let's forbear hiperbolies, replies the Masker; I as I know, I am not fair, so I could wish myself so, that I might be the more grateful to those that love me: but your craft, and my simplicity have made me deposit my secrets in the heart of a person, who laughing at my folly, perhaps meditates how to deceive the felicity of my thoughts. I ought not to hazard my reputation to so evident a danger. I have spoken too much, were my face discovered, my blood should bear witness by my grief and repentance; the blushing my heart hath sent thither are the reproofs of my soul, which threaten the seerity of those chastisements, the thought alone of which terrifies me. Saying so, she retires amongst the Maskers, leaving Epidoro in the height of his thoughts, where a long while he would not have been removed, if Love, who commonly is not wanting to the necessities of Lovers had not relieved him: so that having again taken the Masker by the hand, he so much entreated her, so much promised, that at last he gets leave to speak with her the following night, which was the beginning of Lent, at a little window which looked on an unfrequented street. With this hope he pleasantly passeth the rest of the night, expecting the other with a thousand imprecations against the stars for staying so long from celebrating the obsequies of the day. Scarce had the light given place to the dark, but he comes to the appointed window; although he thought he had anticipated the hour, he finds himself prevented, his beloved expecting him, accusing him in herself for want of love, that he had not prevented her. The compliments which passed amongst them were many, and the amorous conceits numberless. They discoursed of constancy, fidelity, and severity with so great an insatiety, that the darkness seemed weary to hear them, which even for the cause invited the light. The day coming they part, with promise to meet every time when Epidoro should see a cloth hang at the grate, which succeeded twice or thrice a week, with so great a contentment to Epidoro, that in respect of that, all other entertainment seemed but his annoyance: and then thinking that felicity full without participating the rest, he grew to that impudence, to trust the mouth of many with the secret of his loves; he bragged that he possessed Leena's heart, who had made the patience and love of a thousand Lovers despair. He vaunted himself a possessor of that fair one, who had obliged to adoration, even those minds which were incapable of love, unless it were that of themselves. This rumour passed from the ears of one, who filled with incredulity and envy would spy Epidoro. He hearkens to him one night, when he had appointed to get the possession of the fruits of love. Having no patience to suffer the felicities of one, who was no ways his superior, by the favour of Fortune; carried by envy, which conspires always against the satisfaction of men, he vomits forth in a paper the effects of his madness, conveying it afterwards to Leena's husbands hands. Opening the Note, he saw this written.  
CORDELIO,  
NOT to discover to you treachery, is to be a complice in the guilt; I who by the excess of your favours, and by the obligations of my heart am called to the protection of your honour, cannot filence it in the hands of dishonesty. The night when the infamy of your reputation is to be practised, hath not darkness to hid your shame: My zeal implores the testimony of your eyes, which confess Leena unchaste, and myself a loyal friend; I remit to you the discovery of the truth. It troubles me to disquiet the repose of your mind, with so unthought of an advice. But he deserves praise only, who discovering it, leaves you the means to think on the remedy.  
Your faithful Friend.  
This raised an infinite many thoughts in the mind of Cordelio, and all cruel; nothing was in his heart but blood, slaughters, and murders; yet being persuaded by the love he bore Leena, and like a wise man, knowing the fruits of malice, he condemned all other testimony, but that of his own eyes. He faigns that he was hastily called away by his business into the Country, and parts not without Leena's tears, who regreeted for every moment of his absence. Cordelio lay hid all the remainder of the day, and at night he goes to observe who it was that betrayed his honour. Leena in the mean time had given herself in prey to a most sweet sleep, not without being disturbed by her Nurse's voice; who told her, that Cordelio was to return in a short time to the embraces of Cinissa her Chambermaid, and that she herself had told her so, that she would not be her hindrance. Leena's mind soon gave credit thereto; knowing her husband's genius, and her servants little honesty; and the sooner, having been before jealous, not without some affliction. She quickly clothes herself, and would not be followed by the Nurse, that with the more liberty she might blame Cordelio's inconstancy. She goes near her servant's Chamber; and there she meets her husband, who with naked sword in hand, came against her to kill her: He did it not, either that she might first see her Lover's death, or the pity of Heaven permitted not that her innocency, although suspected guilty should suffer: Leena, though full of disdain, yet thought entreaties fit than reproofs for her own safety. Casting herself at his feet, mixing her words with her tears, she thus bespoke him. Sir, If the dishonest embraces of a servant please you more than those of your wife, I oppose not myself against your pleasure, I would offer myself to procure your pleasures, would you but do me the honour but to command it me: but when with the loss of my own due, I see myself in danger of my life, I cannot but complain at the rigour of my destiny, which hath caused me to be born unhappy. The unbeseeming dishonesty of a wench can then do more than the chaste delights of a wife, who hath no other desires but those which are subject to your beck. Alas, how hath Cordelio forgot himself? Alas, how hath Heaven, to torment me, changed the temper of the man? Cordelio interrupting her, telling her, The falseness of thy lips and tears, O thou impudent woman, would have introduced some persuasion in my heart, had not these eyes been witnesses of thy dishonesty: Prepare therefore to die, for 'tis unreasonable that she should live, who hath prepared the funerals of my reputation. But first of all tell me, Where hast thou hid that wicked wretch, who had the boldness to defile my bed. Leena being unable to suffer such words as those, which wounded the most sensible part of her soul. Sir, To excuse your amorous thefts make not my honesty guilty with feigned pretences; 'tis unbecoming your prudence, and my love; I am yours, and I am chaste; Malignity and Envy can find no colour to criminate my thoughts, so far are my actions from wronging your honour. I appeal to yourself, whether the treacherous desire of enjoying a servant, or the displeasure of having been interrupted, have not now the possession of your mind. Cordelio grew the more disturbed, and with violence asks her, of what maid, or of what love she talked. Whereto Leena answered all what her Nurse had told her, and having understood as much from her mouth also, he runs without delay to seek the Chambermaid, and finds her in the wrestlings of love, fast clasped with Epidoro: He was going to sacrifice them to his fury, but his wife's persuasions diverted him. So that at last he was content, that Epidoro should marry Cinissa, who was a servant, rather by the injury of Fortune, then by the condition of her birth. Whereto Epidoro without more to do consents, the fear of death making him yield to any agreement. Cordelio then embraces Leena; excusing himself of what he had done out of zeal to his own honour; having heard Epidoro called with a whistle from the grate, and seeing him afterwards introduced his house. Leena's discretion was satisfied with these justifications, glad to have escaped the danger, which was the greater being hid, which at the same time threatened both her life and reputation. This may serve to warn husbands not to run precipitously to suspect their wives of unchastity. And to teach wives not to allow a treacherous liberty to their maids. And finally its an example to all those who voluntarily seek to betray the honesty of other men's wives.  
FINIS.