Licenced Jan. 2. 1677.  
Roger L'Estrange.  
THE UNFORTUNATE HEROES: Or, The ADVENTURES OF TEN FAMOUS MEN, VIZ, 

Ovid,  
Lentullus,  
Hortensius,  
Herennius,  
Cepion,  
Horace,  
Virgil,  
Cornelius Gallus,  
Crassus,  
Agrippa.   Banished from the COURT of AUGUSTUS CAESAR.  
In Ten Novels.  
Composed by that Great Wit of France, Monsieur de Villa Dieu.  
Englished by a Gentleman for his Diversion.  
In the SAVOY: Printed by T. N. for Henry Herringman at the Blue Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange, 1679.   

THE UNFORTUNATE HEROES: OR, THE ILLUSTRIOUS EXILES OF The Court of AUGUSTUS. The First Part.  

THE famous Ovid, whose matchless Charms had rendered the Grand Master of the Universe jealous, as well of his Honour, as in his Amours, was sent into the Isle of Thalassia, to expiate a Crime, they had only made him guilty of. He much affected the Court, and its delights: And a Banishment was more cruel and insupportable to a person of his temper, than it would have been to any other of a more reserved converse. He vented his resentments in the deepest complaints, and most extravagant rave, his Soul was capable to express; and with a motion, whereby he would seem to measure the length of his misfortunes, hastily plunged himself into a thick Wood, which bordered upon the Coast, that respects Macedonia: when passing by a place, which Nature had seemed to have taken pleasure to make the seat of a vernant Palace, he cast a careless glance upon a Cloth, disorderly spread on a fragrant Bed of Camomile, which looked as if with a negligent curiosity it had been embroidered over with scattered flowers, first-fruits, empty dishes, and many other ruins of a noble Treat. He cast a quick eye round about him, to see if amongst the Trees he could retrieve some person, or other, that might give him an account of so unexpected an Adventure. At length he discovered two Women of excellent feature; who rushing suddenly into the darkest coverts of those Woods, made themselves a Screen, to rob their Beauties as well from the eyes of Titan, as his, of some Thickets, which Nature seemed with the interwoven branches of sweet blossoming Thorns and wild Roses to have formed for a withdrawing Room to the other, from whence the unseen Guests, had a little before departed. He made a sign to his Esquire, and two Slaves (who composed the whole Retinue of his Exile) not to follow him; and eagerly pursuing the fair Fugitives, he prepared himself to speak something of gallantry to them upon the first encounter, Fortune had so kindly offered him; when he thought his own name resounded in his ear: He made a halt; and lending a more diligent attention, he heard one of them, say to the other, How is it possible that a Passion so violent, should be so deeply engrafted in a heart, for a Person, whom one never saw? I understand well enough, that the sight of an object, which gives a kind of pleasing titillation to the senses, passes from thence into the cabinet of our hearts; and there creates that agreeable distemper, which the concurrence, or sympathy of humour, converts into Love; But upon the bore character, one receives either of the gaiety of, wit, or converse of an unknown, that one should nourish such desires, caresses such an unquiet Guest within their breasts; in a word, Love with such violence, as you love Ovid, is that, which never yet signalised any of your Sex, but yourself; and what Posterity will chronicle amongst her fabulous miracles, if she shall have the honour to writ your History.  
I do not fear that treachery on your part, replied the Lady, to whom this discourse was addressed, though you are the only person capable to effect it; since you are the only person in the world, to whom I have unbosomed the secrets of my heart. But, my dear one, if this misfortune should arrive me, I hope, the same Posterity, that shall be acquainted with my name, will not likewise be ignorant of that of Ovid; and in exposing to the view of the world my weakness for that great Personage, it will likewise, at the same time, convince it of my innocence. It is not the beauty of his Person that charms me; but those more powerful charms of his wit, which never yet any female ones could boast they were proof against. When I read those passionate expressions in his Elegies, wherein he so naturally delineates to our fancies the various characters of Love, with the divine Pencil of his admirable Muse, I am surprised with a sudden emotion of delight, that inflames me with a most impatient desire of seeing that more admirable Person, to whom I own it. I cannot forbear, methinks, to interest myself in all his Concerns, in gratitude to those agreeable Transpotts, his Verses inspire into my Soul: And as often as I make a reflection upon that felicity, which might have blest these eyes with so noble an object, as Ovid, in the Court of Caesar, in Rome, had Fortune treated me with lesle rigour, I heap as many imprecations upon her for this one circumstance of my misfortune, as for that obscurity, wherein she forces me to linger out the inglorious remnant of a vagabond life.  
This is call d, my sweet one, replied the other, interrupting her, a Love not of Ovid, but of his Verses, since you have yet seen no other part of him; but should Fortune, to regain your good opinion, present you together with the magic of his enchanting Muse, a sight of his Person, you would than become more enamoured of the Author, than you are now of his Works. Ovid's attention was so fixed to the discourse of those Women, that he was not sensible of the noise, which two men made in passing by him; who had the leisure to entertain him, as well in their embraces, as their knowledge, before he came to his own. Their caresses reduced him out of his ecstasy, and presented to his admiration Cornelius Lentulus, whose renowned Victories over the Scythians, and Dacians, had purchased him the fame of one of the greatest Captains in the world; and Hortensius Hortalus, the only surviving branch of the illustrious Race of the Hortensius'. But Ovid's surprise was not so great, at the encounter of him, (whom he knew Caesar had some three, or four years before banished into Thalassia, for having refused to receive an eminent Command, and a fair Wife from his hands,) as of Lentulus; who, he thought had been at the head of those Troops, which the Emperor had sent forth to chastise the late Revolt of the Geteses.  
Have the Rebels, said he to Lentulus, tamely submitted their obedience to your all-conquering fame? And your redoubted Name, and the memory of those splendid Actions, you performed once before in the reduction of those Barbarians, disarmed them of their natural fierceness and courage? Or has Caesar so unworthily forgotten himself, as to recompense the glorious services of Lentulus, with an unnatural Banishment? The Geteses, replied Lentulus, continued obstinate, and with a stiff neck refuse to receive again the yoke of their duty; And if Caesar has unworthily recompensed the zeal, I have ever had for his interests and glory, it is not now by confining me to this barbarous Climate; but a motive, not lesle powerful, than that of his Commands, has call d me hither; from whence it must be a greater, than the obedience I own them, that can recall me. This is a mystery, I shall declare to you at more leisure: In the mean time let us understand what rigorous Fate has hurried you hither, to breathe this inhuman air: for if you believe that Caesar has forgotten both himself and his honour, in confining me to it, I must judge, that he is guilty of a greater injustice, in treating the renowned Ovid with so much cruelty.  
The arrival of the two Ladies, who came forth of their flowery Cabinet, prevented Ovid from returning an answer: They heard some persons discoursing not far from them, and they came to inform themselves, who they were. Ovid asked Hortensius the names, and quality of those Ladies; who told him, that one of them was named Junia, daughter to the Triumvir Lepidus; and the other, said Lentulus interrupting him, calls herself Roselina, and makes a most inviolable secret both of her Birth and her Fortune: She speaks two or three Languages with that natural grace and eloquence, that no Man can judge, which of them is her native Tongue. But by the sweetness of her temper, and the gentle air of her deportment, I judge her to be of Roman extraction. Whether it were the beauty of this fair Stranger, that on the first prospect made a deeper impression in the soft breast of the amorous Ovid, than that of Junia, (over which notwithstanding the other could challenge no superiority) or that he thought, he discovered, in the eyes of Roselina, something which seemed more allied to the blind passion, he understood one of them had for him, than in the severe and majestic garb of the daughter of Lepidus, he sent a thousand silent wishes to Heaven, that Roselina might be that secret Amoreuse, he heard them discourse of. He could not rectify himself in his hopes by the knowledge of their voices; he had been so short a time their Auditor, that he could not distinguish them; and as they treated of private affairs, they spoke not so loud, as to tune them in their natural key. The different proceed of these two Ladies confirmed his suspicion. Junia remained not long in the company of Ovid, after they had acquainted him with their names; But Roselina on the other side, seemed fixed, as it were, by a secret charm, to the conversation of those three Romans: each action of hers was passionate, and her eyes expressed a trouble and confusion, which Ovid had in his Works presented the World too lively a draught of, to be ignorant of the character. He had scarce time to make his full Remark on this Subject; for Junia having proclaimed the arrival of this illustrious Man to all she met, obliged him to turn from Roselina, to repay the Civilities and generous Caresses of all the eminent People, who at that time did with their Residence illustrate the Isle of Thalassia. Their number was considerable, and that day Lentulus' invitation of them to a Collation, had assembled them. The two Friends of Ovid informed him of the quality, and name of each person, which composed that noble Convention. He saluted Tisienus Galius, but not without a blush. Hortensius' presented to him a fair Cousin of his, named Adiamante, who was Companion to Roselina. There were likewise two or three Inhabitants of Lesbos, who came every year about that season to furnish the Thalassian Exiles with what Commodities, they wanted. Many were curious to be informed from Ovid's mouth, of the cause of his visiting that Island; but he reserved that secret for his particular Friends; and only declared to others, that it was in obedience to the Emperor's Commands. He added moreover, that his Conscience could lay no crime to his charge, but that he could not pronounce himself wholly innocent neither, since Caesar had been pleased to pronounce him guilty. This modesty of his proved no example to be imitated, by those that were witnesses to it; for they fixed the Title of Cruelty and Injustice upon the Emperor's Commands; and following the Maxim of most of your Exiles, who do not perceive, that in darting such murmurs and reproaches at their rebounding miseries, they only administer fuel to those flames, they endeavour to extinguish. Our Malcontents indulged that liberty to their tongues, which the rest of their bodies could not command. Hortensius' engaged this new Guest to take his quarters with him. Lentulus would willingly have raised a friendly debate upon this occasion, had he not been obliged to another for his own.  
When Ovid saw himself alone with Hortensius, he thought he should do an injury to his friendship, if he should observe that precaution with him, which he practised towards persons, wholly indifferent to it. Hortensius had been a Friend of very ancient acquaintance; and he made no scruple to tell him, that the favours, wherewith the daughter of Augustus was pleased to honour him, had been whispered in the Emperor's ear, and occasioned his Banishment: you make me but half your Confident, says Hortensius, interrupting him: I have such correspondence at Rome, as will not suffer me to be ignorant of the circumstances of a misfortune, wherein I claim myself so near a concern. Confess the truth, my dear Ovid, cried he, with a smile; Caesar would have pardoned you the glorious attack, you made upon the heart of Julia, had you confined the lustre of your merit within the circumference of that orb; the Emperor aught to take satisfaction in the gallantries of his daughter; and his Court would become a Desert, should the honour to serve her, be adjudged a crime of State: But you have attacked that Prince in a more sensible part, and the fair Terentia was not able to resist the influence of so powerful a Planet.  
See, see here, cried Ovid, one of the most cruel darts malice can levelly at my disgrace. I received the sentence of my Banishment with constancy enough; but I am not able without transport to hear Terentia branded with a weakness, she is so little capable of. I will not endeavour, said Hortensius, to extort a more ingenuous confession from you: the method you take to vindicate the fair Terentia, satisfies me, to what degree you love her; and as I hold it for a circumstance of impossibility, that a Lady of capacity and judgement should be adored by you, without a reciprocal esteem and respect; I assure myself that my Agents have good correspondence, and I will sand them my thanks in my next Letters, for the faithful intelligence, they furnish me with. I call the gods to witness, replied Ovid ' that no report had ever so false a false a ground, to support its malice, as this of a Love-intrigue betwixt Terentia and myself: I cannot deny but that I have a veneration for her equal to her merit; She has the command of a clear and piercing judgement, and being affected with some places in my Write (where my Pen has been more industrious and luxuriant) than another woman possibly might be, I doubt not but she may have a more particular esteem for me than a person of lesle capacity: but whereas besides that she seemed to me not to be capable of a Passion for any other, but the Emperor; I am endeared to the brave Moecenae by obligations too straight, to make a criminal attempt upon the chastity of his Wife. Oh! said Hortensius, by what chains of merit and obligations is not Caesar bound to that illustrious Favourite? What does he not own to the zeal and prudence of that Great Man? What has not Moecenae acted to establish him in the Imperial Throne of the Universe? With what vigilance did he disarm the attempts, which were leveled at his life? With what fidelity does he assist him by his Counsels? And do we see Augustus make any scruple to ravish from him the heart and affections of his Wife? I do not think myself obliged, replied Ovid, to vindicate the Honour of Caesar; for the breast of a banished Man, is the natural seat of malice and revenge; and I have left behind me at Rome those concerns, which will always suggest to them a high resentment of those commands which cast me out of it. But if the lovely Terentia had practised as much art and diligence to endear me to her, as she has done to improve the Emperor's affections towards her, and Moecenae would have expressed the same compliance in my favour, as he did in his Masters, perhaps Ovid might have as much forgotten himself as Augustus has done. You cannot affirm, replied Hortensius, smiling, but Moecenae did express some in yours, otherwise young Crassus could not have surprised you one night-coming out of her Apartment. Since you have been made acquainted, said Ovid, with that encounter, I shall confided the secret to you: You are prudent, and my friend; make use of my confidence in you, as it becomes a man of honour, that professes he has espoused my Interests.   

THE HISTORY OF OVID.  
I Should in vain study to tender myself guilty of a black ingratitude, in going about to disown those generous favours, the glorious Daughter of Augustus has graced me with; which my banishment has caused the World to believe were so great, that I cannot think it will be interpreted a vanity, or indiscretion in me to represent them before it in their due character: wherefore I shall avow a truth, and confess, that that excellent Princess did treat me with a freedom and confidence, the memory whereof still is, and ever shall be, as precious to me, as my unfortunate life.  
She gave me the liberty to consecrated to her Idea all those passionate Poems, which I published under the name of Corinna. She was oftentimes pleased to answer the little Harangues of Love, the languishing Rhetoric of my eyes, made to her, with regards as full of sweetness, as mine were of passion; which gave encouragement to my presumption to make those attempts, which might with some reason be interpreted as criminal, in a simple Chevalier, since they had for their object the Daughter of his Emperor; but would have been judged innocent, had Julia been the Daughter only of a Roman Knight.  
Varnish that piece over, quoth Hortensius, I beseech you, with as light a hand as you can; I see the inclination you have to make a fair Apology for a fair friend; I am acquainted already with every circumstance of the Intrigue betwixt you and Julia, and I desire only an account of what relates to Terentia.  
You are in an error, replied Ovid, and to dispossess you of it, I must beg your patience to a Discourse, which may perhaps detain it longer than you desire The beginning of a Love-intrigue with the first Princess of the World you must apprehended, was sufficient to charm the spirit of an ambitious man with raptures, scarce comprehensible by imagination itself. I considered the preference she honoured me with in her esteem, before all others of my Rank in the Court, with a most ravishing satisfaction; and acting the part of a great Prince in the private Converses she was pleased to admit me to, I could fancy myself nothing lesle than one of the happiest in the Universe. I forgot the quality both of Julia, and myself; but as the Princess (let malice and detraction spend their mouths as loud as they will, to blemish her virtue) did always reserve to herself, as a Royal Prerogative of her Greatness, the power of repressing my audacity; all the little satisfactions she permitted me, served but to tantalise my vanity, and only entertained my Love with some slight Banquet of Sweatmeats, which thirsted after a more solid repast. Julia is one of the most charming Beauties of the Universe; and my desires, which had kindled a new Aetna within my breast, wanting the blessings of a gentle shower from her more substantial favours, to qualify its flames, converted all those flattering pleasures into an insupportable torment. Sulpicia, Wife to Tisienus Gallus, who is here in Thalassia, that than was Servant to the Princess, and to whom she unlocked the Cabinet of all her secrets, was a witness to the deplorable estate, those her half Bounties had reduced me to. Tisienus about that time was suspected to have been a Complice in the Conspiracy of Marcus Lepidus, and banished into this Island. His absence gave Sulpicia the freedom to exercise those liberties his morose humour retrenched her from, when he was with her. This generous person was touched with a compassion of my Sufferings, and was sparing neither of her advice, nor interest for the advancing of my felicity. This your manner of proceeding with Ovid, said she to the Princess, is as much opposite to the rules of Love, as Virtue; you suffer a person to expire at your feet, whom you love; because a little punctilio; perhaps, either of State, or Modesty, will not permit you to allow him the benefit of your Mercy; when you shall do them both but an equal injury, either by enslaving them to these terms of rigour and severity, or indulging them those liberties from which restrain them. Eeither assume the Character of the Daughter of Caesar, or with courage renounce the arbitrary Yoke it would impose upon your freedom. A Virtue that can admit of the lest allay of any other ignobler passion, is but the slave of irresolution and timidity; you aught either to banish him your presence for ever, or tender it lesle mortal to him. The Spirit of Julia could digest neither of those Propositions. My conversation was a diversion to her; the languishing countenance of my love raised a tender compassion in her breast; but her favours never extended themselves beyond the bounds of that compassion; and though she had an invincible repugnance to deprive herself of my sight, she had likewise no lesle to grant me the Suit, which Sulpicia was my Advocate in. She did testify the regret she had, for not being capable of doing me a more acceptable service in my affairs in terms so obliging, that I thought I was not able to retaliate her kindness no other way, than by making an offer to her of what remained of myself in my own disposal. If the lovely Sulpicia, said I to her, could be capable of that condescension, as to content herself with the second rank in a heart, where the Daughter of Caesar sits in Throne in the first; and that the illustrious Julia would not consider, as a treason committed again herself, that submission, which low prostrate at your feet, I would employ to pled the cause of my misfortunes; the deplorable state wherein you now behold me, and which has already excited compassion in your noble breast, would soon be sensible of a glorious alteration. Sulpicia burst forth into a loud fit of laughter at this proposition, and regarding me with no lesle surprise than disdain: Have you an art than, said she, to divide yourself so exactly, that neither the Princess, nor Sulpicia shall have cause to impeach you of partiality in the division? It is a secret I must confess, said I, I never yet put in practice; but a small condescension in the Soul of the Princess, and the like compassion in yours, would encourage me to make the experiment: For example, went I on, suppose your self wholly ignorant of the Amours betwixt the Princess and myself; and that retiring all inflames and transports from the Elysium of her private Caresses, I should throw at your feet a heart inspired with raptures and desires as violent, as love with all its Magic were able to raise in it, would you judge the victim unworthy of your acceptance? Not, replied Sulpicia, if the cause of these transports and desires were unknown to me, and I could flatter myself with the thought, that my Beauty had kindled the flames, I saw so visible an effect of. Oh! ye gods, cried I, presently, interrupting her, must I than be culpable and unfortunate, because the Princess has made you her Confident? You deny not, but that my love, in the same capacity I represent it you, both should, and aught, to be favourably embraced by a person; who could believe herself to be the only object of it: And what reason can there be than, that I should receive so severe correction for an indiscretion I never committed? Are my transports lesle transports for being the effects of the Princess, irresistible Charms? Or should I bring them with me into Sulpicia's Chamber heightened with all those raptures she knows them capable of, would my Passion be a lesle amorous Passion for having derived its birth from the divine eyes of the incomparable Julia?  
My way of reasoning was thought so pleasant by Sulpicia, that she suddenly left me, to run and make the Princess a Partaker in the gallantry of it: I endeavoured to dissuade her, but could not. I judged it convenient to make choice of a fit season to treat of so delicate and tender a subject; when I was most agreeably surprised to understand from the mouth of Sulpicia, that the singularity itself of my proposition had commended it to the Princess' favour, who expressed a great satisfacti- for the advancing an Intrigue so admirable, and new.  
About that time I had made a Poem, Entitled, THE GODDESS OF HEARTS; where feigning that Cupid seeing that his Mother Venus had a greater charge upon her hands than she could well manage, in charming Mortals, had thought it expedient for her to assume to her a Copartner in her Empire of Love, and by the name of The Goddess of Hearts, had created the Princess Julia, here Co-sovereign in swaying the AMOROUS Sceptre of the Universe.  
The Princess, through an indiscretion, which I never took the presumption to charge her with, showed this fancy of mine to Terentia. The name of Julia was disguised under that of Corinna; but the Character of Corinna did so perfectly illustrate the Daughter of Augustus, that Terentia had no difficulty to discover it. She drew me one evening apart in the Empresses Apartment, and showing me the Verses the Princess had delivered to her. Sold not one, said she, oblige you effectually, to present you with the Key of this Mysterious Work, and unlock the secret of it to the Emperor. This discourse put me into some disorder, but re-composing myself in the best manner I could: I cannot think, Madam, replied I, the Emperor will concern his high Thoughts with the humble Corinna of Ovid; and if he were pleased to stoop them so low to Earth, the Title of THE GODDESS OF HEARTS, so gloriously suits the Charms of the divine Terentia, that he might perhaps interpret her to be of the object of this fancy, and cast a kill eye upon Ovid, for presuming to bring the illustrious Wife of Maecenas upon the Theatre of an Amour. You have more ingenuity than sincerity, replied Terentia, and the artificial varnish you give your answer, aught to oblige me to repay treachery with treachery; but I have an esteem for you, and desire you to insert me in the first Rank of your friends. You may go on, and propose to your Muse the Idea of Julia, for her Goddess; but your love in her Mouth speaks intelligibly; and her language is easy to be understood by persons lesle discreet than myself, and who perhaps will not have so great a regard to the interests of Ovid, as Terentia has.  
This generous proceeding of a person, whom the credit of a grand Favourite, and the affections of the Emperor, had elevated to the highest sphere of authority and lustre in the Empire, did touch me with the sense of a deep acknowledgement, which I expressed in the most eloquent terms, my gratitude could prompt to me; and from that day I consecrated to her generosity all the Raptures of my Muse, which either my Passion for the Daughter of Augustus, or my esteem for Sulpicia would permit me to borrow from her more Amorous hours. About that time Crassus began to pay his Adorations to the Shrine of this resplendent Star. And this Amour scarce deceived the knowledge of any person in Rome, but the Emperors, and her brave Husbands. He had observed how this great Lady had called me aside; and it was easy to discover by the motion of her eyes, and her gesture, that she was saying some obliging thing unto me: He drew near, and lent his curious attention; but we spoke so low, that he could frame no connexion in any thing he heard us discourse of: He catched only at some scattered and broken words, as the Title of GODDESS OF HEARTS, and what I had replied to the first speech of Terentia; which being but an innocent piece of Gallantry, without design, I was not cautious to tender guilty by a whisper: And seeing, in fine, that I paid my thanks to her in the most humble posture, and the gratefull'st terms I was able to express, he presently apprehended, that I had entertained her with some private Love-adventure, which she gave a favourable ear to; and this fancy begot in him a furious jealousy: and some few days after presented him with an occasion to confirm it: I was walking in the beautiful Gardens of Lucullus, when a little after me came Terentia thither likewise, to make them more beautiful, led by the Great Agrippa, and followed by Crassus; who seemed to be a shadow inseparably annexed to each motion of her person. He ushered the young Heluidia, Niece to Maecenas, by the hand; and endeavoured to cast a blind before the eyes of the public, by persuading them, that it was either this Lady, or the young Aurelia, who were usually her Attendants, that with their Charms did daily attract him into the company of the fair Terentia; but more piercing sights did penetrate into the Mystery. Terentia by accident saw me cross the end of an Alley, where she was walking: She sent some of her Servants after me to call me: and as I approached her, Ovid, said she, inclining herself a little towards my Ear, offers a Sacrifice too remarkable to his Goddess, the Grand-Courtiers of Heaven begin to murmur at it, and Jupiter himself is offended. Can Sacrifice offend the God's Madam? said I, walking by her side; and are not those Holocausts, which preserve on Earth our respect and veneration to the Goddesses, sacred and pure enough to be offered publicly to them? I know not what you treat of, said Agrippa, smiling, but were I a Goddess, the extraordinary offers of men, would 'cause me to suspect some private interest, or design, in the intention of the ambitious offerer: And I do not found, that it is natural to Mortals of Ovid's merit, to make always pure devotion the object of their Sacrifices. I am of your opinion, replied Terentia, a person of Ovid's Principals will soon become as formidable to the Gods of the Earth, as the Giants were once to those of Heaven: wherefore if I were of his Council, I would advice him to be so cautious in paying his worship to a certain Deity, that none of the Imperial Court above, should be sensible of it, but herself.  
You will apprehended, by what you have heard before, that this discourse of Terentia, was only a prosecution of that she had began to me in the Empresses Apartment; and that by my Goddess, and the displeasure of Jupiter, she would privately suggest to me my love to Julia, and advertise me, that the Emperor was offended with my frequent visits, and familiarity with that Princess: But Crassus, who lent a diligent attention to our discourse, gave it another interpretation. I returned such answers as I thought most opposite to retort the flatteries they leveled at me. Our Promenade, extended itself to a more than ordinary length; which I supported with such expressions of gallantry and pleasant retorts, as merited to be honoured with many a glorious Compliment and Encomium by the fair Terentia, which, I must confess did bear the character of so much good will and kindness towards me, as would have startled the courage of any bashful Lover. The Emperor came in quest of his illustrious Mistress into the Walks; as soon as I saw him I retired: The whole Court was not ignorant that he desired always to entertain Terentia in private, and Crassus was obliged more than any other person, not to put himself in the circumstance, of being a witness to their Converse; he withdrew as well as I; and following me close at the heels, overtook me upon the Terrace that bounds the Gardens, towards the River Tiber. May a man aspire, said he, saluting me, without temerity, to a minute's discourse with the renowned Ovid? Does not the spiritual Terentia, and the great Agrippa, beget in you a loathing towards persons of Plebeian Capacities? 'Tis true, said I smiling, Ovid's spirit has an antipathy against all base and sordid conversation; and thence it proceeds, that he is so ambitious, of that of the noble Crassus. We measured the length of the Terrace, with such discourses as these. Crassus' gave them the first diversion, and talking a while of things indifferent, at length with a kind of affected cenfidence (he would seem to repose in me) he began to acquaint me with the design he had to gain some considerable employ in the Army, which was marching for Illyria. You do not deal with me, added he, with that candour, as I with you; you see my heart meets you barefaced and open breasted; and you have yet never honoured me with the confidence of the lest of your Secrets. My heart, said I, has hitherto been the Cabinet of very few Secrets: not has it ever been engaged in any Intrigue of State: The mystery of some youthful gallantry has yet been the highest Point, either in the wheel of fortune or ambition it has aspired to; and by a misfortune, which my fate, not designs have drawn upon me, my Love-adventures do tread the stage of the World so publicly, that it were a high piece of vanity in me, to go about to confided them, to a person of Crassus' intelligence. You are a grand dissembler, replied Crassus, and those Adventures you abandon to the public, are only cast before their eyes like a jugglers Mist, to dazzle them so, that they may not through that thick Cloud discern the real ones: nor do you doubt to sacrifice some credulous Dames, who are the Stales only to your designs, to the safety of your more effective Mistresses. And as we saw not long ago with what artifice you made young Valerius himself, for two years together, the Stalking-horse to his Sister's dishonour. I'll swear the open faint you make at Sulpicia must include a sublime and intricate Mystery. This discourse made me tremble, for the concern I had for Julia. What reason have you to deny, said I, that the beauty of Sulpicia aught not to challenge the whole Empire of a heart, though capable of never so boundless a Passion? I will not prove myself guilty of so great an arrogance, as to boast myself worthy to make love to the fair Sulpicia; but suppose I were, has not Sulpicia think you, Wit and Charms enough to satiate each appetite of my Soul? Let her have all the Wit and Beauty too in the World, if you please, said Crassus; I will not endeavour to convince your supposition; but I shall maintain, that Sulpicia is not the Goddess of Ovid; you understand too well to frame your applications, to give the title of Goddess to the Wife of Tisienus. Lovers, said I, interrupting him, attribute the name of Goddess, to all such Objects as receive from them the Sacrifice of sighs and vows; neither is it the Rank, nor the Quality of any of the Sex, that can snatch this Laurel out of the mouth of a Lover, and crown their own temples with it; but 'tis the suitable harmony and proportion which is found between the title of Goddess, and the adorations of the Heart, that does fix it there. When Paris made love to the Shepherdess of Oenona, he gave her the same title he afterwards gave to the Wife of the Spartan King. But you do not ascribe, said Crassus, interrupting him, the name of the same Goddess of Hearts to Sulpicia, as you do to a Person more eminent: you offer up your feigned devotions to the Wife of Tisienus, but your real adorations to the consort of Maecenas. This last word was the thread to guide me out of a Labyrinth of confusions; for all that Crassus imputed to Sulpicia, might so aptly be applied to the Daughter of Augustus, that till I heard the Consort of Maecenas named, I thought the whole Intrigue had been discovered. I assumed courage, when I saw my fears were deluded, and regarding Crassus with a brisk air in my countenance; I understand you very well, said I, you take pleasure to introduce a discourse of the subject you love: but you might have spared yourself the trouble, to derive its streams from so remote a head; I am complaisant to the desires of my friends, and we might have employed the time of our conversation to better advantage, if I had thought your design in entering into discourse with me, had been only to interweave it with that of the divine Terentia. The intervention of Domitius Aenobarbus, who walked likewise upon the same Terrace, prevented Crassus from making me an answer: he was upon us so unexpectedly, that we were forced to discontinue our Converse. You are acquainted with Domitius; he is one of the persons of greatest merit in the Court of Augustus; and had married one of the Daughters of the Princess Octavia. We could not decline his encounter as we might have done another of lesle consideration. He invited me to Sup with him; and as soon as the Moon should lend us her silver Torch, engaged me to wait upon him to a noble Palace he had built at Picene; I continued there three days, which my absence from Julia caused to appear three ages to me. Besides the pleasure such a ravishing object would have afforded me, I was impatient to communicate to her, the advice I had received from Terentia in the Gardens of Lucullus, and consult her about the best means to elude the Emperor's suspicion. As soon as I put foot out of stirrup, I hastened to her Apartment. She was in her Closet with Sulpicia; the door was shut, but I had ofttntimes before taken the liberty to interrupt them in their privacy, the Princess not disapproving it: Sulpicia came forth when she saw me; but Julia stood with her face turned from me towards the Window: I thought I discovered by the eyes of Sulpicia, that something of discontent hast passed betwixt the Princess and herself: Julia held some flowers in her hand, which she snapped of, and threw away, with an action full of passion and indignation: I approached her with all humility, and begged her to let me know wherein those innocent Flowers had displeased her. If you ever see her more, said she, without giving an answer to my demand, you must not expect to see me again as long as you live. How, replied I, in a strange surprise, must I never see my Princess more? What Devil shall have the power to deprive me of the adorable sight of my Goddess? The ill advised Sulpicia, said the Princess. It seems I renounced the whole stock of interest I had in you, when I gave her leave to claim a small branch in it; nor does she doubt to tell me to my face, that her share in you is more considerable than mine; but she shall not long have cause to boast of these advantages; for if I may pretend to any power over you, she shall soon see herself retrenched of all your other favours, but indifferent visits. I leave you to judge to what a pitch of joy this pretty jealous concern of the Princess did elevate my Soul. I was cautious not to impart to her the advice Terentia had given me; it had come seasonable to me; and to disoblige Sulpicia in a conjuncture wherein the Emperors emergent suspicions began to threaten danger to our affairs, had been to hazard a greater. But the interest of Love seldom complies with the rules of Prudence. I heaped a Million of Benedictions upon each syllable her indignation uttered; I limned to her a division in Love, in colours, which expressed it in all the shapes of horror and deformity; I complained of the injustice she had done all those faithful devoirs my love had rendered her by indulging it so much liberty; and I earnestly conjured her by a most strict Edict of her sovereign displeasure to repeal all those she had suffered me to tender to Sulpicia. The Princess gave attention to all I said, but answered me only in the language of a troubled Mien, which I did interpret as a good omen. I asked her divers questions touching the vanities of Sulpicia; she declared some of them to me, and jest me to divine the rest. I perceived that Sulpicia had done me greater services by her indiscretion, than her counsels; and by magnifying her own advantages and interest, had not a little advanced mine: I had hopes the Sun would have broken forth gloriously upon me, after these sweet dawnings of my Princess' constancy and favour towards me, had not the arrival of the Prince Marcellus, wholly eclipsed it; but I had the satisfaction to perceive, this disappointment was as unwelcome to the Princess, as myself; which she expressed with a gesture full of chagrin and discontent; and inclining herself towards my ear, she ordered me not to fail to attend her in the Flower-garden, which the windows of her apartment look d out upon, as soon as the Emperor was go to his repose. We will decide our controversy, said she aloud, at the hour appointed; this time is not proper for such disputes.  
Marcellus asked her, What the dispute was? Nothing, said Julia, but a small difficulty I have started to Ovid, touching his Treatise de Arte Amandi; and taking a Manuscript of it up in her hand, which by accident lay before her upon the Table in her Closet, she surprised me with the presence of her sudden wit and apprehension: And ex tempore form a dispute with such ingenuity and solidity of Reasons, as if she had dedicated the study and premeditation of many hours to the contexture of so elegant a discourse; and by uttering a thousand things, which plausibly suiting the Subject in question, did likewise suit with what had passed, before the Prince's arrival, she struck me into that admiration, that I was afraid, jest the unadvised Effects of it might have proved Traitors to their Sovereign Princess. I took my leave, and went to prepare the appetite of my Soul for that divine Treat, I hoped that night would afford it. I make this Relation to a person, who has declared himself to the World, a Nonconformist in the Religion of Love; and has rather chosen the barbarous Isle of Thalassia for a Mistress, than a beautiful Lady for a Wife; and therefore is incapable to judge of the state, my hope and impatience reduced me to. I was possessed with a kind of amorous distraction, which rendered both solitude and company equally burdensome to me. Each moment seemed an Age to me in my Chamber; and being impatient to deceive my impatience, going forth to divert it in Augustus' Palace, I kept continually in motion, and with large paces measuring the distance between one Apartment and another, I was not capable of making a serious reflection upon the subject, that might be the cause of so restless a distemper. This motion, at length, like all others, was terminated in its centre. The Emperor, at that time, was entered into a small course of Physic, which he used to observe every Spring. The Prince Marcellus, and Moecenae, came into Terentia's Chamber, where I was; and told her that Caesar was retir d. It was not yet the ordinary hour, the young Prince used to withdraw to his Repose: He made a Proposition to them of spending an hour or two at Play: Moecenae agreed to it; and a Concern either for one side, or other, had engaged all their idle Followers. I threw away a little time in looking upon them, not to tender the hastiness of my departure suspected; and thinking that I had observed all the necessary Rules of Policy, I took my time, and stole in all silence away from them; when, unexpectedly, one of Terentia's Women came after me, and told me, her Lady had some business with me, and desired me to walk into the next Room; I thought, at first, to have denied obedience to this order; but the fear I had, jest the cause of my disobedience might be suspected, joined to the sincere esteem and veneration I had for Terentia, caused me to yield an unwilling obedience to it. Terentia had a desire to impart to me the design of a piece of gallantry, she was preparing to solemnize on the birth day of Augustus, which was than near at hand. The thing intended required no great premeditation: and if my wits had been in my own possession▪ a quarter of an hour had been sufficient to have disposed the whole Scene; but I was so little myself, that I scarce took notice of what she said to me. I forced her to repeat one thing two or three times over. She was sensible of my distraction, and smiling, asked me, If I had not been that day at some Treat? You know, very well, Madam, answered I, that Bacchus is not my Deity; but I protest that my wits are at this present so far from home, that if you do not allow me this night to compose them, your Mask will be very ill regulated. Terentia is endowed with one of the sharpest apprehensions in the world; and unfortunately for me, was that night in a humour of Raillery. She conjectured what it was, that had put me of of the hinges, and proposing to me divers questions of Wit and Gallantry upon the subject of my Amours, which she thought would most oblige me, she detained me two long hours, maugre all the attempts I could make, to disengage myself, without rudeness, from her importunities. Crassus' was one of the Spectators, when Prince Marcellus, and Maecenas, began to set themselves to play; I could not divert his jealousy: For Domitius' arrival had prevented me, when I was going about to undeceive his ill opinion of me; and from that hour I had always been absent from Rome, or in some occasion or other, which gave me no opportunity to renew our discourse, or converse. He observed how one of Terentia's Women, had come to me, and commanded my stay, when I was going forth; he saw me direct my course, towards a Chamber, whither he had seen Terentia retire a little before; he stood Sentinel, with much impatience, to watch for my coming out, and was enraged, that I should be cloistered up two hours together with the person, to whom he had sacrificed his highest adorations. His jealousy transported his fury beyond his reason, which caused him to follow me out of Mecoenas' apartment; and to conceal the cause, as I conjecture, of his resentment, from those eyes, which were than upon him, he curbed the effects of it, till he saw me just at the Gate of Mecoenas' Baths, which opens into the Garden, where I was commanded to attend. Turn again, Ovid, said he, advancing towards me with his Sword in his hand; the Blessings Fortune showers down on thy glorious head, is worth a hazarding an inglorious life; for I knew the voice of Crassus, and apprehended his error; but it was impossible than, to convince him of it; he attacked me with a fury, which would not allow me time to open my lips to undeceive him. The Prince Marcellus arrived, just as we began to draw blood from each others veins; and separating us, expressed to us, in obliging terms, the concern he was in, to see two persons of so much honour, as either of us were, engaged in so desperate a quarrel. Whilst the Prince was endeavouring to part us, a Maid-slave of the Princess, who waited for me at the Garden-door, to conduct me to a close Arbour, whither her Lady was retired, hearing the clashing of our swords and voices, ran hastily to advertise her of our combat. The Princess imagined herself to be the cause of it; and thinking that this had been some ambush laid for me to chastise my audacity, she came running to the place, in a mortal distraction, betwixt love and fear. Her apprehension had rob d her of her judgement; and she let fall some unadvised words, which betrayed our intrigue; and being joined to the circumstance of that unseasonable hour, raised that suspicion in the breast of Augustus his Nephew, that no disguise could longer conceal from him. Marcellus was a Prince of great honour and virtue; but the hopes that did elevate him to the thoughts of aspiring to the Marriage of Julia, had stamped a new character upon the goodness of his nature. He address d his complaints to the Emperor, against the indiscretion and dishonourable carriage of his daughter; which so inflamed his indignation, that he presently sent the Princess away to Tusculum, where so watchful a Guard was set over her, that I durst not hazard any attempt either to purchase a sight of her, or convey a Letter to her; and in a short time after, I received the Order of my own Banishment. The generous Terentia employed her power with the Emperor, to qualify his displeasure; but the information, which the malice of some ill Men had whispered to him, forced him to return her a denial. In the mean time Crassus, (who being convinced by the resentments of Prince Marcellus, had the justice to think, that a person graced with that favour by the daughter of Augustus, as to obtain her compliance to such night-assignations, could not probably be embarked in any other adventure of the like nature) believed that he had attacked me without reason. He came to take his leave of me, the same morning, I was to take mine of Rome; when he informed me of those things, which you may imagine I could not by myself arrive to the knowledge of; and testified his trouble and grief to me in terms so passionate, that they wholly disarmed my indignation. But his too late repentanee could not restore me my Julia again: In adventures of this nature, an occasion once lost, is never to be retrieved more.  
Whilst Ovid was making this Relation of his secret intrigue with Julia, the Thalassian Lady, to whose heart the blind Archer had sent one of his most invisible darts, felt the real effects of her Friends predictions. Ovid's hopes had deceived him, when he was willing to believe, that the fair Roselina, was the private Inamorata: But the knavish Boy took delight to sport with the severe humour of the daughter of Lepidus, and it was she, who was become amorous of the reputation of the famous Ovid. Oh! cruel Friend, said she to Roselina, you have taught my heart a Lesson, it aught to have been ignorant of. It is too manifest a truth, that the person of Ovid has ravished from me that esteem, which I thought nothing, but his Works had been capable to challenge. There is a Magic in the air of his countenance, which has enchanted me at the first sight; and if I had not presently retired from the place, where we first saw him, I believe, I should not have been able to have concealed my surprise from the observation of the Company. Alas! went she on, with a sigh, Love takes now too cruel a revenge, of the contempt, I have always hitherto expressed for his power.  
I do not perceive, replied Roselina, that this god merits that character of Revenge, you impose upon him: Ovid bears not in the World the repute of a cruel person; and I am deceived, if he be of that inhuman temper, as to be insensible of a passion, which is dressed in so many Charms and Beauties, as Junia is Mistress of. Ah! replied Junia, my heart shall never betray that secret to him: Ovid is the wild Ranger of Cupid's Chases, and unconstant by profession, whom all the Charms, Venus herself is Mistress of, are not able to confine to one Object; and should mine, as inconsiderable, as they are, be endued with that miraculous power, as to influence a constancy upon him, Tisienus informs me, that the cause of his disgrace, is only a jealousy of Augustus: And Terentia's interest will quickly re-establish him in the Emperor's favour, and the Banishment of Ovid will have an end, as soon as she shall interpose her authority between him and Caesar's indignation. Do not you think me than most unfortunate in a Passion, which I am in danger to give entertainment to alone; and were its reciprocal, would be always exposed to the terror of an infallible separation? Arimant, unhappy Arimant, said she, letting some tears fall, I now undergo a rigorous chastisement for all the injuries, I have done thee.  
About this Season, Junia was accustomed to celebrated the Birthday of her Father: she had upon other Years invented divers sorts of Games and Recreations to honour that solemn day, and for this, she had designed a Consort of Music upon a Lake, which was one of the greatest Wonders, that illustrated that Island. Roselina, was her assistant in the design. She had acquaintance in Mitilena, the Metropolis of Lesbos, by means whereof, she had procured a Company of choice Musicians from thence. They came the same night, that Ovid arrived. Junia expressed all the diligences of a solicitous Lover, to regale her Ovid with a Banquet of Music, for his first welcome to Thalassia; and as the intent of this frolic had no other object, than Ovid, she gave order to the Musicians to tell all, that should examine them, that Ovid had set them on work. The Inhabitants were much surprised, when walking in the evening by the side of the Lake, they heard the noise of divers voices and instruments rebound from some Boats to the shore, which were purposely prepared for that Solemnity. Those, who understood not the mystery looked upon one another with astonishment, and enquired, Who amongst them were the Authors of this piece of Gallantry? Every one denied it; you will perceive presently, said Ovid smiling, that we aught to pay our thanks to Hortensius for it. He has an intention to chastise himself for a fault, which he is indebted to for his banishment, and repealing his Error, dedicates to some fair Ilandress this public testimony of his conversion. These false Eulogiums, replied Hortensius, cannot seduce my vanity; you must attack me by some more subtle stratagem, to make me imitate the Crow in Aesop: And I shall not only not tender myself guilty of dedicating a Treat to any Thalassian Lady, but shall esteem the suspicion, or thought of having done it, an injury, I will not say to the honour, but humour, of Hortensius. This is only a glory you have, said Junia, interrupting him, to make the vanity of your ill humour, more conspicuous. I do not think it worth my admiration, that there are so many Souls in the world incapable of that generous Passion; the Star, which governs the sublunary Empire of Love, is doubtless not without its oppositions; and the Heavens are of an extent vast enough to comprise two contrary influences within their circumference; but general divertisements are the innocent effects of a Gallantry, without design or interest, and like the Mottoes annexed to honourable Coats of Arms, may be practised as well by a heart wholly unconcerned, as that, which is most inflamed.  
The Spectacles, or Games, replied Hortensius, we exhibit to the People, or the Diversions and Recreations we present to our Friends, may bear that Motto of indifferency, you have charactered to us; but those which are wholly consecrated to the honour of Ladies, must necessarily include a design to please and oblige the Sex, which I never was, nor ever shall be, and am, at this moment, in despair of ever being capable of. I shall pay to it all the respects, a person of honour cannot acquit himself from without incivility; and if any one of them should be reduced to that straight or circumstance, which should call upon my assistance, I would afford it her with as much fidelity and zeal, as if I had been from my Cradle a professed Lover: But this I should perform, by a principle of natural compassion, which is capable of no partiality to either Sex; and would express itself with as much concern towards the most unworthy of all Men, as the fairest of all Women. I judge this indifferency of Hortensius, said Roselina, may be a vice of that ill temperament, which nature first seasoned him with: but I think I saw another way, to derive its pedigree: the aversion he has for our Sex, is too violent to be the effect only of an antipathy without any foundation: I am of opinion, it is the daughter rather of Revenge, than Nature; and if he will be so ingenious, as to avouch the truth, the Memory of some past injuries has imprinted this character in his Soul.  
I am not able, said Lentulus, taking up the discourse, to satisfy your doubts concerning Hortensius; but if you have a desire to be resolved of those concerning the Neptunian harmony, I can assure you, that Ovid is the Author of it, and that I received my intelligence from the Mouths of the Musicians themselves. This News surprised the Company with wonder, which could not sufficiently admire by what stratagem Ovid had been able in so short a time to assemble and unite, in one body, the various parts of so perfect a Consort. Some called him Enchanter, others desired him to impart some of his Magic to them, and every one rendered him the subject of his own confusion, and their astonishment. He had set foot in this Island, in a humour little suiting with such kind of diversions: He was scarce thrown ashore, when he encountered his two Friends, and since that Moment Hortensius had never been out of his company; he desired him to answer for his innocence, and free him from those undeserved praises, they charged him with. He complained of Lentulus for having been the Author of this distasteful Raillery, and conjured him, not without a little passion, to suppress a folly which had sported too long with his afflictions, and was so disagreeable a Companion for them. His Protestations, and his Complaints, were not regarded, but as the effects of his Modesty; and whatever he could allege in his excuse, the honour of the Pageant was fixed upon him. He was troubled to be made the Mask to another's disguise: which caused him to rise very early the next Morning, to found out the Merchants, who had sold their lies and labour at so cheap a rate: He could not speak with them the Evening before, for Lentulus had not published what they had told him; till after the Consort was ended. Ovid hoped to make them deny, what they had said, and discover the intrigue of this pleasant Mystery, but his most diligent search could not retrieve one of them in the whole Island. Junia took great pleasure in the success of her innocent Raillery and to give herself a little more diversion, had discharged them, and sent them away, who by break of day embarked themselves upon a Vessel which set Sail for Bisantinus. Their departure much displeased Ovid, who admired, that Fortune should express so much crossness to him of late, as to oppose most envious obstacles to the lest of his desires: and these reflections representing him to the feet of his divine Julia in her private Closet, brought such a Melancholy upon him, that he could not in that condition digest the thought of returning to Hortensius. He took his walk into a Meadow, which his wand'ring fancy conducted him to: where he had scarce measured four or five paces, when he perceived Roselina tripping over the farther end of it, towards a Grove of Cypress Trees; which some Outlaws, who had been formerly confined to the place, had probably taken pleasure to plant there. Ovid found this Stranger so charming, that though he had established Julia in the throne of his heart, for the sovereign Empress of his affections, yet he judged he should not turn Traitor to the principles of his sworn Loyalty, in giving a slight diversion to that Mortal discontent, which for her absence had invaded his Soul. He followed the tract of Roselina; the labyrinth, which she entered into, had been designed for a solitary retirement; where the paths, with a curious artifice interwoven into divers innocent knots, as well to confounded each other, as the unwary Stranger, were not very difficult to be traced through all their implicit Meanders. Ovid, with a little trouble, was guided by his cautious steps, to a green square, encompassed round with flowery banks, and other natural seats of fragrant verdure, which seemed to be the centre of this pleasant Wilderness: He found there, a Guittar and Books, in which, amongst some Musical Notes, that were blurred and torn, he read these following Verses. 
Shall I surrender? or stand to my arms?  
What power is able to resist such charms?  
Must I submit than tamely to my fate?  
Perhaps he'll such an easy conquest hate.  
Alas! poor heart, methinks I hear thee say,  
Despair to hopes has damned up every way!  
Whilst thou consultest, if thou ought'st to yield,  
Thou hast already yielded up the field.   
At the foot of these Verses, there were divers Ciphers, drawn with a Pencil, wherein the Letters, that composed the name of Ovid, were easy to be discerned. He flattered himself with a belief, that his secret Mistress, had in this place entertained her amorous Passion, and finding the method, by which she expressed it, very ingenious and elegant, he retorted them in this manner. 
You must surrender, and lay down your arms;  
You need to use no other, than your charms.  
you're young and fair; than doubt not but your fate  
Will make us a quick conquest love, not hate:  
And since my heart such tender things does say,  
To make't despair, were cruel every way:  
Whilst you're consulting, if you aught to yield,  

              
          has wholly yielded up the field.   
He left a blank for his name, as well not to hazard an indiscretion, as to oblige the Lady, to explain herself first; and skreening himself behind a bank, he presently saw Roselina enter. She took the Guittar, which she touched with admirable skill and sweetness; and in playing, cast her eyes upon the Books, and read that which was interlined betwixt the Notes, as one would read a thing, he had by rote before. She was present, when Junia made those Verses that morning; but by accident throwing down the Book, the Leaves turned, and Roselina discovered Ovid's answer to them. She read it over more than once, and stopping at the place, where Ovid had left the blank for his name, she seemed to be put to a puzzle, to found out something to fill it up, and suddenly casting up her eyes to Heaven, and clapping her hands one against the other, she run hastily towards the tract, which guided her out of the Labyrinth. She need not have done any more, to assure Ovid, that his desires and conjectures had not deluded him. He made not the lest scruple, but that Roselina was the Party, whose heart his Fame had led in triumph after him; and congratulating his happy Stars for this their benign influence, he resolved to make it the diversion of his banishment. Roselina might have been easily overtaken by a person, that would have pursued her; but Ovid, was an experienced Lover, and knew with what precaution and tenderness he aught to manage the bashful Modesty of young Ladies, and leave the impression of the first attacks, to receive its perfection from the stamp of more serious reflections. Roselina commanded as much liberty to retire, as she pleased: and Ovid quitted not his post, till he thought he had allowed her sufficient time to make an entire retreat: when all transported with joy, that he had made so happy an entrance into the Temple of Venus, he returned to Hortensius, where he found Lentulus, who willing to oblige his old Friend, invited him to dine with him. They fell again upon the discourse of the Music: Ovid renewed his complaints against Lentulus, for having made him the Subject of a Raillery, he was totally ignorant of. Lentulus' confirmed again, what he had affirmed the night before. Ovid seriously protested, that those Musicians had told him a great untruth; adding a solemn Oath, that he had not the lest concern, or knowledge of a consort, as miraculously vanished as at first assembled: which, at length, altered the opinion of Lentulus; and at the same time the gaiety, which appeared before, in his countenance. Ovid soon took notice of it, and asked him the cause of this sudden change? It is too manifest, replied Lentulus, that I am betrayed! OH ye gods, cried he, fetching a deep sigh, Is it possible that a person, who has so long commanded the highest adorations of my Soul, should be capable of so foul a treachery? We shall afford you our advice and consolation, said Hortensius interrupting him, as soon as we shall be informed of the cause of these extravagant Exclamations. Alas, said Lentulus, I need no entreaties to satisfy your curiosity: A person in my condition, feels a greater reluctancy in himself, to conceal a secret from his Friends, than to reveal it to them.   

THE HISTORY OF Lentulus.  
WHen I received the Emperor's Orders to march the second time against the Geteses, and reduce them to their Obedience; he considered this Expedition, as a Work only of some few Months: and I assure you, I myself thought it not of that importance, as the sequel declared it. I was acquainted with the manner of fight, the military Laws and Stratagems of that People: This experience gave me great advantages over them. Their Revolt was yet so young, and so newly crept out of the shell of Sedition, that it wanted growth and age to establish it with firmity; and the Troops, which Caesar committed to my conduct, were all of choice and select men. In the mean while the almost inexpugnable obstinacy of this Nation, gave me more trouble and laborious exercise, than I could have imagined: and prolonged a War for two whole years, which I hoped to have concluded in lesle than one Campagne. This repugnance provoked me to those acts of severity, which my ordinary temper is naturally averse from. I sent away the chief Magistrates of some of their Cities, to plant Colonies in the desert Islands of the frozen Sea; and running a great danger of my life in an Encounter, from whence the Romans were forced to retire with loss and dishonour, I culled out of the Prisoners, we took, those of the best shapes, and extraction amongst them; and sent them, as a Present, to the Officer, who had the charge of the Gladiators. This revenge was the most rigorous, that I could inflict upon those obstinate Geteses: which transported them to that rage and despair, that a few days after I had taken this course, the sentines, who were placed round my Tent, took a young Man attempting to force his entrance into it, who being searched, was found to carry a dagger concealed about him. He was brought before me; when the first view I took of him, did not more surprise, than charm my admiration. He seemed not to be above sixteen, or seventeen years of age. His stature scarce reached the middle size of Men, and wanted the addition of some years to give it its just proportion: but yet it was noble and of generous deportment; and each action of his person did bear the stamp and character of a charming greatness. His first aspect seemed, by a secret Magic, to disarm my resolution of a Revenge, to the rage whereof, I was fully bend to sacrifice him, and all, that bore the name of Get. I asked him, with a great deal of sweetness, what design had brought him into my Camp? and for what intent he would have forced an entrance into my Pavilion?  
To have killed thee, if it had been possible, replied the fierce Youth; my rage is too just, to be disowned; and the only regret, which shall attend my wretched life unto those infamous tortures, to which I know, thy cruelty will soon expose it, is to outlive the effects of so glorious an attempt. Alas, my Friend, said I, what injustice have I committed against thee, that should inspire thy fury with resentments so barbarous and so criminal? Thou hast practised, said he, against me, one of the most sensible acts of barbarism, which was in thy power to execute upon me; I am descended of a blood, that aught to be of some consideration amongst the Romans. Death deprived me of a Father and a Mother, at an age, when I was only capable of acknowledging one only Brother for all my Relations and Parents: and Barbarian, him thou hast robbed me of; and being insensible of the charms of that Youth, who was born with all the advantages, wherewith nature and education could accomplish him, hast barbarously added him to the number of the Gladiators, for a worthy spectacle to entertain the effeminacy and cruelty of the Tyrant of Rome: and the first, perhaps, wherewith he designs to regale the lusts of the Adultress Livia, shall be exhibited at the precious expense of my Brother's life. O ye gods, went he on, (whose fury this reflection had inflamed,) is it possible, that after an act of such inhumanity, I should tamely look upon thee with calmness, speak to thee, and not revenge upon thy loathed person, the injury thou hast perpetrated against the blood of Herennius? In pronouncing these last words, with a savage fury he would have darted himself in my face: which second attempt, having turned the points of more than twenty javelins upon his breast, had soon received its due chastisement, had not I interposed myself betwixt him and the indiscreet zeal of those, that were ready at so many gaps to let forth his desperate life. I pretended, I would wheedle out of him some discoveries, which might concern my own safety; and I gave order, he should be kept under a strict Guard, in a Chamber near mine. This command wanted not an appearance of reason; because it was not improbable, but that he might have some Complices: And supposing I had an intent to put him to death, it aught to be such a death, as might strike a terror, into all such, as might be engaged with him in the same design. But these considerations were not the Motives of my preserving his life: another more unknown and secret instinct rendered it as dear to me, as my own. I was more surprised, than he himself, when they presented their Javelins to his throat; and if my voice had not been sufficient to avert the danger, which threatened him, I think I should have opposed my own breast for a buckler, to have defended his. When I found myself alone, and entered into a serious reflection upon the subject of these extravagant sentiments, which so insensibly encroached upon my reason, I impeached it of weakness and effeminacy; and was ready to open my mouth a thousand times, to give command to have an object, which with so infamous a distemper infected my judgement, removed out of the world by most exquisite tortures, but I had never the power, to pronounce the sentence, which hung upon my lips. Some Daemon, or other enemy to my repose and glory, had charmed my tongue, and allowed me only the use of it, to give order to have the Criminal brought again to my presence. I said, and believed too at that time, that I had no other intent in causing him to be arraigned before me, than by some curious questions, to extort an humble confession from him: But as soon as I cast my eyes upon him, so sudden a fear possessed me, jest he should answer like a desperate and stubborn wretch, and by that obstinacy provoke me to a necessity of inflicting death upon him even against my will, that I did not dare to propose one question to him: I pretended generosity; and told some Officers, whom the report of this accident had brought to my Tent, that if the attempt of the Get had aimed at any of their persons, he should have received his due punishment, at the same Moment I had been made acquainted with it; but since it was only levelled at mine, I would willingly force my own resentments to subscribe to the ambition I had, to try all manner of ways to conquer the rigour and obdurateness of that stiff Nation. We aught to make an experiment, said I, whether these People may not be more sensible of our generosity, than severity. I will give this young Fellow his life, restore to him his Brother, oblige him with Presents, and sand him away with his liberty, to proclaim amongst his Countrymen, that the Romans never exercise their rigour, but upon the obstinate and incorrigible; and that when the fortune only of Mars renders them Masters of their Enemies, they treat them, like Brothers. This opinion of mine found but few assenters amongst them; and those, who opposed it, were doubtless endued with most judgement and reason: But I did not propose it to them, as if I asked their advice in the case, but as if I had done them the favour to communicate it to them, as a resolution already fixed and established. I made a sign to the Prisoner to draw nearer to me; who approaching, I exhorted him never to attempt base and indirect ways, to revenge himself of his Enemies; and after a long discourse, wherewith the standers by seemed to be more moved, than the sullen Get, I concluded by declaring to him, that I granted him a life, his treason had forfeited, together with the liberty of his Brother.  
The Youth seemed to be transported beyond himself with a rapture of joy at this generous effect of my clemency; and casting himself at my feet, with a stream of tears, (which seemed even thorough my breast to have found a channel to convey themselves to my heart) purling down his cheeks ah! Lentulus, said he, a Person truly worthy to bear the name of Roman; thou hast this day purchased a fame, which shall make more Nations bow to the Sceptre of Caesar, than thy most victorious Arms could ever pretend to. My Brother shall employ that life and honour, thou hast here preserved, to tender himself worthy of thy matchless generosity. As for myself, I am only capable of offering up vows and orisons to Heaven for the augmentation of thy glory, and the preservation of thy precious life. This hand the gods never shaped for Sword or Lance, it was fury only that armed it; and to disguise nothing from a Person, to whom I own all, know I am a Woman, and that thou hast preserved the blood of a renowned Roman, in preservation of my Brother, and myself. Imagine in your thoughts the surprise, I was in, at this attestation: I had before a blind inclination to protect the life of that audacious Youth, but when this inclination saw itself in a capacity to be owned as a legitimate Love, it grew like a Giant, as I may say, in the Cradle, and in a Moment attained to that Maturity and Strength, that as no eloquence in the Mouth of another was able to confute it, so none in my own, is capable to give it its due character. I hastily raised the fair Counterfeit, I a thousand times begged her pardon for the ill treatment she had received both from me, and my People: The confusion of my countenance and discourse, more clearly discovered to her, what was agitated at the Counsel-Table of my heart, than the most flourishing Rhetoric, was able to have expressed. She soon perceived it; and if I may allow credit to the asseveration of a Woman, a sense of gratitude wrought the same effects in her fair Soul, as her beauty did in mine. I understood from her, that she was called Herennia, and descended from that famous Herennius, who followed Sertorius into Spain at the time of the Tyrannous Reign of Sylla. Herennia was not the own proper daughter of that Herennius, she was too young; but she was the daughter of a son of that illustrious Proscript: who, after his Father's death, having scattered the miserable Relics both of his own, and his Father's wand'ring Errors over most Parts of the Universe, at last fixed his Residence amongst the Geteses; and had by a Lady, of an incomparable beauty, whom he had espoused, this Herennia, and the young Herennius. They were Twins, and were left Orphans, almost as soon as they fell into the arms of the wide World; and had had their Education under a Roman, a Domestic of their Grandfather, who had instructed them in the Latin Tongue. Old Herennius did after the death of Sertorius retire into the Baleare Islands, whither the Tutor to the two young Infants followed him, and there learned the Spanish Tongue, which he afterwards taught his Pupils. He was a great Master in divers Arts and Sciences, which were requisite for the accomplishment of People of Quality; nor had he been a Niggard in imparting them to the two Herennian Orphans; and finding them richly endued with natural capacities, had rendered them two Prodigies, of Learning, Wit and Education.  
These things did she recount to me with an excellent grace, and testified an impatient desire of seeing the Native Country of her Ancestors. I promised her to conduct her thither, as soon as the War was ended; and ever after I caused her to be treated like a Roman of Quality, whose Renowned Predecessors Fortune had before as unjustly ravished from, as now again it had miraculously restored to Italy. I reinvested her likewise in those Lands, which belonged to her in the Territories of the Geteses; all which were than lately fallen into the power of the Romans: I made a distinction betwixt those, and our other Conquests; and appointed certain Troops to guard them, as if they had been a part of the Patrimony of the Empire. The young Herennius was set at liberty by the Captain of the Gladiators, and honoured with such Charges, as his age was capable of, in our Army; but he did not continued long in them, for he left the Camp by stealth, and since his departure, we could never gain any intelligence of him. The favours I conferred upon Herennius, and those wherewith I daily studied to oblige his Sister, did purchase me her entire good will, and as she was of a candid integrity, and her intentions sincere, she made no scruple to declare to me, the real sentiments she had for me. That Summer Campania was drawing to an end, and my Troops began to look towards their Winter-quarters; Herennia made her ordinary Residence in a House, not far distant from the Camp. I entertained all the leisure my duty would permit me to steal from my charge, in her conversation: I promised you, said she to me one day, if you remember, only orisons and vows in exchange, for the life you gave me, and the liberty you promised my Brother: And since your generosity has not confined itself to the limits of your bore word, my gratitude thinks itself obliged too, not to contain itself within the bounds of a single acknowledgement; I challenge, methinks, a more sensible interest in all that relates to you, than a bore sense of a favour is capable of producing. I aught to pay you a respect, as to the General of the Romans; and though I had no other interest in your Concerns, than what the Memory of the Obligations I own you begets in me, your preservation and felicity aught to be held by me in the same rank with mine own: But when I consider you within the reach of any danger, those Obligations present themselves not more to my thoughts, but the preservation only of the person of Lentulus, which I prefer before the devoir of an acknowledgement; and if interest moved you to act, as you have done, you aught to repent yourself, that you have obliged me: for, methinks, the sense of your favours, have no alliance at all with the sentiments, I found in my breast for you.  
O! Adorable Herennia, cried I, may you ever forget in that manner the Obligations, for which you think yourself redevable to me: they are but acts of justice, which merit not a place in your thoughts, and can only charge me with the praise of having performed my devoir: But may you ever, ever remember, that Lentulus adores you; that the terrible shape, wherein you first presented yourself to his view, could not defend his heart against the effects of your charms; and that he shall love you to the last Moment of his Life with a Passion, no Lovers heart was ever yet capable of. That which you would have me forget, said Herennia interrupting me, aught perhaps with more Reason to challenge a place in my Memory, than that which you desire I should retain. You have effectually snatched me out of the jaws of death, into which my fury would have precipitated me: the Liberty of my Brother, is an essential favour; the Obligations, you have heaped upon me, are real Obligations, and your Love, perhaps, may not have the same solidity: It is a Chimaera, which time will dissipate without your permission; but yet by a Magic, which my strongest Resolutions cannot conquer, this Chimaera charms my Soul with a more real delight, than a Verity would do of more importance. There is no necessity that I should farther enlarge myself upon this subject, added Lentulus, the indifferent Hortensius will dispense with a more tedious recital of such delicate circumstances; and the Amorous Ovid comprehends as well as myself, the Raptures they infused into my Soul, which did banquet upon them in all peace and tranquillity, till Tiberius came like an intruding Guest, and entrenched upon the bounds of my felicity: He envied the credit and favour of Marcellus; and the prudent Livia fearing the ill consequences of his Malice, had persuaded the Emperor to dispatch him away towards me, with some new Levies he had made, to reinforce the Getish War; the Orders of Tiberius, were nothing different from those, I had received from Caesar; and it appeared by the limitations of them, that Tiberius was sent to me rather as a Colleague, than a General: But I in him regarded the Son of an ambitious Empress, and without any repugnance resigned to him the honour of the Supreme Command; which he managed at first with moderation enough. And if the attempt of Herennia had never been known to him, I believe we might have at this hour held a fair correspondence together: but the report of it being conveyed to him, by one of those Tale-brokers which follow Camps, as well as Courts, he considered it as an Adventure so singular and admirable, that he would needs see her. A secret presage within my Soul rendered this curiosity suspected to it; I endeavoured to divert it with all the arguments my jealousy suggested to me but being able to frame none, but what his obstinacy was resolved to confute. Tiberius would not be convinced▪ nor could I excuse myself from conducting him to the house were she was.  
I will declare so much in the honour of the beautiful Herennia; she observed those precautions in all her actions before him, that I could not have exacted from her. She suppressed part of the natural vivacity of her Spirit, and only suffered him to discover, what was impossible for her to disguise from him; whilst her deportment was wholly divested of that gaiety and all which gave it at other times a most charming grace: her regards were modest and constrained: in a word, Hirennia, that offered herself than to the eyes of Tiberius, was not the same Herennia, that in our private Converse used to present herself to mine; but yet though she affected to appear so wholly altered from herself, she had not the power not to charm Tiberius. This Prince is one of the greatest dissemblers in the Universe; for a while he disguised his thought; but perceiving, in some visits he afterwards made to Herennia, that I had a Passion for her, and she some appearance of good will for me, his jealousy for that time become his Master, and transported him beyond the Politics of his dissimulation; you have taken your leave of a fair opportunity, said he to me one day, of making your court to Caesar, by giving liberty to a Daughter of the Herennius'; you might have made a onsiderable Present to the Emperor in the person of this Slave; and if you will bestow her upon me to make one to the Empress, you shall in exchange command any thing of me, that lies in my power to oblige you. I Sir, cried I, all surprised, Can I deliver up to you, in the quality of a Slave, a young Daughter of the Blood of Herennius? O Sir! said I, are you ignorant of the Prerogatives which like so many Gems in an Imperial Diadem, encircle the glorious name of a Roman? Herennia is your Compatriot as well as mine; if the Caprice of fortune has for some time deprived her of the advantages her birth gave her, it could not deprive her of the Rights of it: and instead of rendering a service to the Emperor, in detaining Herennia in slavery, I am convinced, that Caesar would enter into Arms to protect her from it, if any one should be so presumptuous as to attempt to impose unworthy Chains upon her liberty. The Blood of Herennius, replied Tiberius, is not so recommmendable to Caesar, as you seem to persuade yourself: he was one of those Rebels disguised, who under pretence of establishing Rome in a liberty which she is too fortunate to have forfeited now to so glorious a Change, did miserably dilaniate the State by their divisions; and sacrificed the chief of the Roman Nobility to their private Lusts and Interests. The persons you mention Sir, said I, were never branded with that Title, but by the enemies of the public Liberty. None dare deny but that the Reign of Augustus aught to be preferred before that Liberty, which Sertorius and the Grandfather of Herennia did with such pertinacy defend. But Sir, when they declared themselves the Protectors of it, it was not Caesar that invaded it. And I doubt not but they would have unanimously deferred it to the high merit of Augustus, what they disputed with the tyrannous ambition of Sylla: And though Caesar should consider them not otherwise than as the second causes, which Heaven employed to wrist the Empire out of the hands of a bloody Marius, and Sylla, to conserve it for the Caesarian Race, I assure myself he would have no dis-esteem for their memory.  
The Emperor has too much reason, replied Tiberius, not to entertain a just resentment for all such, as opposed the establishment of the Sovereign Power; he is sensible that the same persons, who ran counter to the designs of Sylla, would have gloried to have been the Assassins' of the Great Julius, had they lived in his Age. They were a company of opiniatre and ambitious Spirits, who judging that the World could not discover sufficient merit in them to elevate them to the Throne of Sovereign Authority, would like so many bloody Anatomists, dissect it into variety of parts, that each one might possess a parcell'd Empire for his share. The person of Marius, or that of Sylla, or that of Augustus, would have challenged the same Rank in their levelling thoughts. It is a Maxim of State to destroy all the young Sciens of that Seditious Race: If Herennia had been the only remaining Branch of the rebellious Stock of Herennius, something might have been allowed to her Sex; but she has a Brother, who has lately by a surreptitious attempt conveyed himself out of the reach of our Power; and therefore is but justice, that his Sister should remain a Pledge for him; and if you persist in 〈◊〉 defence, I shall be forced to advertise the Emperor of your obstinacy, and 'cause her to be secured till I receive farther Orders from Caesar. Upon this discovery of the ill intentions of Tiberius. I thought to have made my resentments whisper a harsh language in his ear; but I was afraid to created any division in the Army. I imposed a great constraint upon myself, to avoid an inconvenience of that importance; and protesting that the Person of Herennia was wholly indifferent to me, I only represented to Tiberius, that he aught to consult the opinion of the chief Officers, touching the regard due to the sacred name of a Roman. Tiberius' readily assented to this proposition: he doubted not, but that the title of the Son of Livia would captivated the suffrages of the whole Council to his own desires. And to speak the truth, the credit of the Empress was so formidable to the greatest part of the Romans, that Tiberius had perhaps succeeded in his design, had I allowed him the leisure to proceed in it. I went the same night to Herennia, and giving her a brief account of what had happened, I possessed her with such an horror of Tiberius' intentions, that she protested to me, she was resolved to run all hazards, to conserve her liberty. I provided her a faithful guide, a Captain of a Cohort, in whom I could repose at entire confidence; to him I committed her conduct; and allowing her only one of her Relations to accompany her, who was desirous to share in her fortune, I conveyed her into this Island, to attend here under the name of Roselina, a more favourable destiny, than that the Getish Camp presented to her.  
How, said Ovid, interrupting Lentulus, is Roselina that same Herennia, whose History you here recount to us? And is it Roselina, of whose affections, you so confidently assure yourself?  
Roselina, replied Lentulus, is the very same person, who captivated my affections, the first minute I beheld her under the name of Herennia, and shall command them to the last moment of my life, under what title soever she shall be pleased to honour the World with her disguise: But o! ye gods, she is now not longer that Herennia, from whom amongst the Geteses I received such tender demonstrations of her affection. Tiberius was not advertised of the departure of our Fugitives, but when it was not possible for him to retrieve them: which transported him to the highest degree of rage; but thinking it safe for him directly to attack my Person, which he knew was in good esteem with the Soldiery, he vented his fury upon some of the Cavalry, whom I had made choice of for her Convoy. He laid to their charge the Crime of Desertion, and proceeded against them as Criminals convicted. I vigorously opposed myself against a course of so much injustice, and declared, that they had not left the Camp, but by my leave. This it was, which gave him a fair ope at me, as he imagined: whereupon he published a Remonstrance against my Conduct; charged me with holding intelligence with some principal Geteses, imputed the protraction of the War to the private employs, upon which I put the Imperial Forces, and dispatching away his accusations to the Emperor, he engaged the credit of Livia so powerfully against me, that Augustus caused me to be cited before the Senate, to tender an account of my proceed. The whole Army can testify my fidelity; and though the reduction of the Geteses required more time than I at first apprehended, yet the services I performed against those Rebels, are not perhaps unworthy that reputation the World does flatter me with: But the favour of Livia was not to be balanced, either with evidence, or justice. I left the Camp, as if I had addressed my journey towards Rome; but as it is never safe for a Subject to lay his head at the foot of his Sovereign, neither was it any longer in my power, to live without the sight of Herennia, I resolved to dedicated all the time my friends judged necessary for the qualifying the indignation of Caesar, to my charming Amour. Cepion only, who is my particular friend, is acquainted with the place of my retreat: he remains still in the Camp, from whence he advertises me, of what is acted against my interest there; and by a Correspondent which I have at Lesbos, I receive certain intelligence what state my affairs are in at Rome. The reception I have hitherto received from Roselina, has been conformable to the Sentiments I have always observed in Herennia; till some few days since, I was sensible of an alteration. I have two or three times surprised her reading some Love-verses, whereof she refused to discover the Author. She has daily some secret or other to impart to Junia, wherein she will not do me the honour to be her Confident. The night before yesterday, a little after your arrival, she dropped some Tablets, filled with the amorous Complaints of a Heart, forced 〈◊〉 to tender itself to the violence of an imperious Passion; she found me perusing them; and perceiving they gave me a sensible disquiet, instead of endeavouring to calm it, she strove to laugh me out of it, and told me with a brisk air in her countenance (which had almost plunged me into the deepest precipice of despair) that the assurance of a reciprocal love, transported Lovers into an Elysium of Joy and Content; and that it was no small satisfaction to her, to see that mine was capable of fear and apprehension. When I desired her to inform me who it was, that Presented her with those amorous Lines, I daily observed in her hands; she answered me, I was too inquisitive, and protesting that she could not impart the Secret to me, without rendering herself unworthy of my esteem, she always tyrannically treats me with a scornful reserve, Yesterday, when I came to inform the Company, what I had learned from the mouths of the Musicians themselves, she cast her eyes upon Junia: when presently with their wanton smiles they began a Dialogue betwixt each other, in a language none could interpret but themselves: I perceived they made a raillery of my error, and understood by some broken words they whispered to each other, that that Musical Consort included a Mystery, we were ignorant of. I am doubtless betrayed; Roselina is inconstant; but o! I know not upon whom to fix the suspicion of her infidelity. I see no person in this Island, who deserves the character of my Rival. Tisienus is an ambitious Reserve, whose proceed pretend to no conformity with the effects of Love. Hortensius is a declared Enemy to that Passion. Ovid, whom I should fear more than all the World besides, has been embarked but two days in this our Society. All others who inhabit this wild Solitude, are either employed in concerns of another nature, or else not worthy to have any with Roselina; yet in the mean time there is some person, or other within it, whom she affects. I have a Rival, but cannot found him; and the more trouble I give myself to discover him, the more concealled he remains from me.  
Ovid, with a great deal of delight gave ear to the complaints of Lentulus, he doubted not, but that he himself was the secret cause of this alteration of Roselina, and tickling his imagination with the pleasing fancy of being made the Confident of his Rival, there was no kind of malicious question, wherewith, as with a picquant sauce, he did not endeavour to season the Banquet, which fortune, as he thought, had prepared to regale his wanton palate. But, said he to Lentulus, do not suffer yourself to be abus d by a groundless nicety. Roselina is perhaps the same person here, as Herennia was amongst the Geteses: It is nothing, but a caprice of jealousy, which presents her now to your thought in another shape. Oh! cried Lentulus, I am neither jealous, nor capricious; I enjoyed so sweet a satisfaction in the thoughts of being loved by Herennia, that if my heart had cause to fear a surprise, it would have been from too great a confidence, not a groundless jealousy, of the affections of the divine Roselina. I have an inclination to suffer myself to be deceived, and was willing that she should put the cheat upon me; but the ingrateful One will not afford me the pity to be cheated by her. I met her yesterday coming forth of an artificial Wilderness, which is in this Island, and which doubtless (said he, looking upon Ovid) you have not yet had the time to visits she held some Papers in her hand, wherein I saw her read something; I asked her what it was: she might, if she had pleased, have answered, that it was a trifle not worth my perusal; for the lest syllable she could have pronounced, might have challenged an absolute authority over my Soul, and I never found myself more disposed, than at that time, to give credit to what she said: but she told me laughing, that it was a Mystery of Love, which she could not than explain to me; and leaving me suddenly, she gave me cause to apprehended, that she had some affairs in hand, which were to be preferred before the obligation of giving me satisfaction. Have you not perceived heretofore, said Ovid, that her levity has been guilty of any extravagant or chimerical Passion? History informs us, that a certain Lady become enamoured of Alexander, only upon the fame and reputation of his great Actions, and sacrificed the life of her Husband to this frenzy. Men of this age are framed of the same Ingredients which composed those of the former; and the imbecilities as well of the one Sex, as the other, which were practised in the time of Alexander, may descend to the Reign of Augustus. Herennia has a solid Judgement, replied Lentulus, and a Soul above those Chimeras: which she rarely applies to the cultivating of her Beauty, that care she casts aside amongst the most unregarded pieces of her curiosity; and the ordinary affectations of other women, attract her contempt, not esteem: And though I am sensible that she once affected me with a Passion full of ardour and sincerity, yet my most passionate endeavours were never able to debauch it to the lest degree of levity, or weakness. A Soul of this temper is scarce susceptible of the impressions of an irregular imagination. But, added he, checking himself suddenly, your discourse recalls to my memory, that some days since, speaking of the extravagant effects of Love, she maintained it might take birth in a heart, and be inflamed of an object it never saw; and that she could allege an example of what she asserted: And may not she be that example herself? Oh! ye gods, Can it be possible, that a heart of such proof against the attacks of Tiberius, should suffer itself to be seduced by the flatteries of a Rhyming Sophister? The arrival of Tisienus, prevented Ovid from proceeding farther in his malicious design: there had been no great correspondence betwixt him and Tisienus, whilst they were in Rome; but people of the same Country willingly consort together, when they meet in a strange Climate. Tisienus had not been informed of the cause of Ovid's disgrace, but by the relation of persons of bad intelligence: he thought that the too eminent favour of Terentia had drawn it upon him; and whereas Maecenas had discovered the Conspiracy of Marcus Lepidus, in which Tisienus was involved, he had no good thoughts for that worthy Favourite. He would seem in a Satirical Note to deplore his misfortune, in having so unfaithful a Wife; Must Caesar have Partners, said he, in the Empire of Love? It is glorious for a Subject to share stakes in any thing, with his Sovereign; but for Crassus, for Ovid, and perhaps for some body else too; when a heart has made the first step upon the course of this gallantry, it seldom stops in so fair a road. To speak the truth, this is to put the Philosophy of Maecenas to too severe a Test; I wonder that a Man of so powerful a credit, does not 'cause a new Tribunal to be erected, for the Trial of the bold Usurpers of Matrimonial Rights. This raillery was very pleasant in the mouth of Tisienus: Ovid was so much taken with it, that he could not suffer it to pass without a repartee. Husbands, said he, whose Merits, might claim oftentimes chaster Wives, than Heaven has joined them to, own grand obligations to you, for the charitable complaints, you make of their misfortunes. A person aught to be assured of the virtue of his own Wife, who so freely glosses upon another; and if you were not convinced of the fidelity of Sulpicia, you would not so liberally attack that of Terentia. I must confess, replied Tisienus, that I am out of the reach of out of those forked Darts myself, which I levelly at the Brows of others; for Sulpicia, thanks to the heavens, is endued with a Virtue, impregnable to all attempts; but though I were myself in the same predicament with Maecenas, I could not forbear to rally at the adventure of so eminent a Politician. That grand Statesman, whose vigilance, like the Monoculus of the World, at one view comprises the Empire of the Universe, who with a perspicacious and faithful inspection, penetrates into the secrets of Hearts; and discovers Conspiracies against Caesar, before they are in Rerum Naturâ, is insensible of those which are daily projected against himself: he sleeps in a high security, when he aught to awake for the defence of his own Honour; and wakes with an indefatigable activity, to terminate the affairs of Illiria. That is, replied Hortensius, because he is convinced, that a man should wake in vain, to divert a woman, from what she is resolved to do. The care and vigilance Maecenas dedicates to the Illirian War, may perhaps be crowned with a glorious success; but had he as many Spies, as Argus' Eyes, he could not prevent the fortune his Wife threatened him with when she had once designed it in her pleasing imagination. I am not convinced with what you say, replied Tisienus, the care of a Husband contributes much to the prudent conduct of a Wife: when he carries a vigilant eye over his Family; confines the exorbitant desires of a young person within the bounds of moderation; obliges her to be at home at good hours; weans her with prudence and sweetness from such company, as may corrupt her innocence: By this means a man may dissolve the Gordian Knot of all ill habits; and placing only before the eyes of her curiosity a Mirror of good example, preserve her frailty from the danger of all dishonourable condescensions and lapses.  
Behold, said Ovid, with a grave look, the fair documents Tisienus has used to make his fair Wife so great a Tygress as she is. I thought that she had owed her virtue to the excellence of her temper; but now I perceive by the Maxims Tisienus delivers us, that she derives it from another source; and doubtless she would not be what she is, had she not had a person of such excellent Principles to her Husband. Hortensius was scarce able to contain himself from bursting forth into an open laughter at this reply of Ovid; and fearing he should not be able to be the Master of himself, if the Converse continued any longer, he made a proposition to them, to go and take a walk in a pleasant Garden he had lately made. The Isle of Thalassia was not so populous, as many others, wherewith the Egean Sea is enriched: yet it was not wholly destitute of necessaries for the support of human life. The neighbourhood of Lesbos did furnish it with all sorts of skilful Artificers, and Hortensius, had employed them, to charm the tedious hours of his Exile: his house, though Countrybuilt, was uniform and regular, and many artificial Walks, formed with an elaborate curisioty, which encompassed it, seemed to correct the natural wildeness of the situation.  
Whilst Hortensius was entertaining the three Romans with the Beauty of his little Thalassian Villa; Roselina, who naturally affected company, being dissatisfied with their long absence, made a proposal to her fair Companions to go and surprise them, where they were. Junia expressed a coyness at the motion, for fear it might blemish her modesty. But Roselina calling her a formal impertinent, and telling her she would take upon herself the boldness of the Visit, took the Daughter of Lepidus in one hand, and Adiamante in the other, and drew them after her towards Hortensius his Garden. He was than busy in showing his friends some rare Simples, which an Arab, who passed by Thalassia, had made him a present of. These Plants grew within a private square; and the Servants of Hortensius, who went to advertise their Master of the Lady's arrival, forgot to look there for him: they hastily run over all the Walks examined each corner of a Grove of Fir-trees, wherein they all centred; and believing that Hortensius was go out at another door, which opened towards the Lake, they came and gave this imaginary information to the three Ladies; they were not much concerned at it, for they had found an employment, to divertise themselves in the place, where they were; which was the Room where Ovid was lodged: he had forgot to shut a little Cabinet, which stood upon the Table; and their curiosity invited them, to take an Inventory of what was in it: The first thing they laid their hands upon, was a Picture of Julia, wherein she was Pourtrated under the Figure of Venus. A little Love god was presenting a great number of Hearts to her; and the Goddess was weaving Chains with the Tresses of her Hair, to captive them; some Links whereof, which seemed by their colour to be borrowed from that fair Venus, served instead of a Ribon, to hung a rich Carcanet of Hearts at, which were set within a sparkling Case of Carbuncles; round the Borders whereof, a glorious Devise was engraven. Many Letters of different Characters were in the same Drawer with this Picture, Roselina opened one, and read it. When I could not comprehend, how there could be a division in your Adorations and your Desires, I was ignorant of the intention of those unusual Sacrifices: I thought you had only offered to my sincere Passion a slight one of roving Thoughts, which like wand'ring Pilgrims, made every Saint the object of their devotion, and wherein each common Goddess, might claim a share as well as Sulpicia; which fluttering abroad into every place upon the wings of Levity, or Complaisance, are rather Antidotes against Love, than a sovereign Cordial for it. But I must now confess, I have committed an injustice both against your transports & my own charms. Offer up your adorations daily to the Princess; charm her with your tender and delicate discourses; dedicated the raptures of your Muse to her Shrine, and still make love to Sulpicia, in the manner you have begun; I shall not impeach the division you make in your addresses, of infidelity; for I have so firm an assurance of your integrity, that I persuade myself Julia will have the greatest cause to complain of it.  
See here an incomparable Epistle, said Roselina, bursting forth into a loud laughter, to entertain a Lady, whose Stars should destiny her to love Ovid. I have some Verses here too, cried Junia, which will not be improper for the entertainment you speak of: Roselina cast her eyes upon them, and found the following Stanza. 
Dull constancy I hate, which cools our fires,  
And only blunts the edge of brisk desires;  
Love does to friendship soon degenerate,  
When custom once its pleasures does rebate.  
My frolic love, which glories still to be  
The Ape of Nature's Wise Inconstancy,  
That with such rich variety does grace  
Of Beauty-spots, each Seasons altered face,  
Does love with it to change her own. The Rose  
Her beauty does each day reveal and close;  
Th'enameled Fields each year spring, and decay;  
Leaves drop in Autumn, and revive in May;  
Choice Beauties, like the Clouds, do fleet away.  
What would my Love not give the gods t'inspire  
It with immortal, but no constant fire?   
I do not understand the Latin Tongue so well, said Adiamante, to explicate word by word the Verses, which are fallen to my share; but interpreting them, according to what I am capable to comprehend of the sense, I judge them to be a counter-charm against those you have already read; Junia received them from the hands of Adiamante, and found them thus expressed. 
Would you reclaim my wand'ring Heart? Learn here  
A way to keep in the out-lying Deer.  
Love me without self-interest, or art,  
Love me, like some innocent striplings heart:  
Which loves, 'cause it in love delight does take,  
And only loves to love, for lovings sake  
What can You more, or Love, require of me,  
To make me love with faithful constancy?  
But o! Corinna, you a Woman are,  
And though a Woman, All-divine, I fear,  
You so much kindness ne'er will have for mine,  
As home the wand'ring Pilgrim to confine.   
This is an admirable piece of Courtship of Ovid to our Sex, said Roselina, when Junia had read out the Verses, to impute all his own crimes to us, and not to be satisfied only to betray us, unless he likewise rendered us guilty of his own treasons. Is not this kind of injustice, replied Junia, common to all men? They love by fancy, and change through levity. When they have made us the subject of their inconstancy, and perceive that our just indignation looks with a scornful eye of a regardless insensibility upon their treacheries, they presently slander it with the title of levity, or infidelity; and seem to accuse us for plucking some laurels from their triumphs, when we gain so glorious a conquest over ourselves, as not to deplore our misfortunes. And as if it were too little for us to be despised, to enhance their vanity, the Ingrates envy us even the slight satisfaction of concealing from the Public, the effects of their inhumanity. It cannot be denied, said Roselina, casting up her eyes to Heaven, that this wicked kind of creature, Man, is an enemy to our repose; but such as they are, we have a natural inclination, to wish them better, than they deserve. Experience has many Ages laboured in vain to infuse wisdom into us; the Examples of so many Women trepan'd, proves no caution to us, not to expose our weakness to the like danger; and he that should bring us all to our Affidavits, would found, that we had rather run the hazard, of being deceived ten times over in our lives, than to be debarred from the converse of those Infidels. Whilst Junia and Roselina were discoursing, Adiamante was busy in examining all the Avenues of the Cabinet: she found there Verses of different measures, and characters; and an Elegy, which she laid aside, because she could not understand it; she also encountered with a noted Song, and amongst all this, some fragments of that famous piece, entitled, The Goddess of Hearts, which Ovid mentioned in his own History. Roselina's eye was upon Adiamante, when she opened the Papers, and taking that, out of her hand, wherein those fragments were contained, she found, it began in this manner. 
One day of the Spring so pleasant, so fair,  
When Love all in smiles arrayed, did repair  
The face of Nature with new life, and taught  
The amorous winds a gentle Lovers Note;  
The god perceiving that the single care  
To charm Mankind, a task was too severe  
And weighty for his Mother, did resolve—   
Go on, said Junia, seeing Roselina make a stop at that place: so excellent a beginning, inflames me with an impatience to hear the conclusion. The conclusion shall be what you please, replied Roselina smiling, the Author has allowed you the liberty of adding what conclusion, you think fitting, to it. Junia would not be convinced, but by her own eyes, of what her companion told her, and taking the Paper from her, with some difficulty picked out the following Verses, disorderly scattered, betwixt the razed, and blotted lines. 
Severe Philosophy did heretofore  
Oppose her rigid Maxims 'gainst my Power;  
The itch of Science did mine quite expel,  
And made all hearts against my Laws rebel.  
In an old Stoics breast in vain I strove  
T'imprint the character of tender Love;  
In vain I strained my utmost diligence,  
To captivated his Reason to his Sense;  
Which Reason still out-braving all my power,  
Fresh courage to th' half vanquished did restore;  
And from my own attacks advantage take,  
And vanquishers did of the vanquished make.  
My Mother than had all her practice lossed,  
Laws, Science, Arts, and Politics engrossed  
All Vows, and Worship to my Altars due,  
And after them the chief of Mortals drew.  
But new those days, blessed be the Fates, are go,  
And Royal sloth does re-ascend her Throne;  
The Ignorant assume the Stoics place,  
And now the World's not more, what once it was.   
Junia could collect but these few Verses out of her blurred and scribbled Papers, when they heard a noise in the Hall near them, which made them judge, that the Romans were returned from their Walk: They hastily placed all things again in the same order, as they had found them, in the Cabinet; and all advancing together to meet Hortensius, and his Friends, Roselina briskly taxed them for the little respect they had shown, in leaving them all that day to themselves. Their company was diminished by the retreat of the not lesle jealous, than amorous Lentulus, whose absence was not displeasing to Ovid. He spoke to the Ladies a thousand delicate and ingenious things upon the Prerogatives of Necessity. If the Daughter of Lepidus, said he, were now in Rome in that splendour and lustre, wherewith the Empire of the Universe beheld not long ago her glorious Family invested, and that Roselina and her fair Cousin were now with their beauty illustrating another part of the World, which, we are not ignorant, paid not long since a due homage to their glorious Merit, the Exiles of the Thalassian Island, would not be regarded, as capable to afford them any diversion; Junia's would be, to see her Father distribute Crowns; and provide Governors for the third part of the Universe: And Roselina would take delight, to see her Charms captivated the heart of one of the greatest Princes of the World. I know not what Roselina thinks of what you say, replied Junia, but as to myself, the satisfaction of enjoying the company of the famous Ovid, seems to merit a preference before all those splendid diversions, wherewith you would flatter my vanity. I never had yet any experience, what pleasure the dignity of Lepidus could afford me; I came not into the World, till after he had made his retreat out of it; nor was I ever acquainted with the ancient splendour of our Family, but by the loud report the World gives of it. But with what regard soever I consider the lustre of it, there's nothing in it, that offers itself to my Ambition, which I should not be ready to sacrifice to the satisfaction, I found in your converse.  
Oh! Madam, said Ovid, now I perceive my company is not so agreeable to you, as you declare; if it were, you would not be so prodigal in scattering those flowers upon me, which with their flatteries have sealed up my lips; I dare not longer regard you, not longer discourse you; the too meritorious expressions, you have pronounced in my favour, have involved me in a confusion, which must tender me a Mute for ever in your presence. I will be her Avoucher, replied Roselina interrupting him, that no expression of hers, has scattered a flattery upon you; and that the desire to see you, has not of late usurped the last place in her ambition; and I can testify, that one of the chiefest regrets; which invaded her, at the fall of her illustrious house, took its birth from the impossibility she conceived, of ever seeing the renowned Ovid, but at the Court of Caesar. Ovid was surprised at this testimony of Roselina; he remembered, that he had heard almost the same words, at the private Colloquy, he had not long before been a stolen witness to; but he attributed them to the daughter of Herennius, though they might as well suit with that of Lepidus. They were both of Roman extraction; both had cause to deplore the ruin of a Noble Family, and both might have had an opportunity of seeing Ovid in Rome, had not the fatal destiny of their Parents expelled them, and all their glories out of the remotest Territories of its Dominions.  
What you relate, Madam, said he to Roselina does not surprise me with its Novelty; a certain Familiar Genius, which always prompts me with intelligence relating to my destiny, informed me not many days since, that a beautiful Person did honour me with some good will, who never saw me, but did with impatience desire to see me; and testified a regret, very consonant to those, you have expressed: But if my officious inteligencer has given me a faithful account, this good effect of my Stars does not make its point towards Junia. The Familiar you speak of, replied Junia smiling, has had his Memory charged with such variety of Historical Remarks, since he came to your service, that it is no wonder, if he has confounded the circumstances of some of them. Princesses, Lady-Favorites, Senators daughters, Courtesans, and Rural Beauties, have had the honour (and often too) in their turns, to be the objects of your gallantry. How can the little Genius than, who Registers all your happy Adventures, keep an exact account, think you, in a Mass of such confusions? Whilst Ovid and the Ladies were diverting themselves with such like gallantries, Hortensius was giving Orders to his Family for the entertainment of his Noble Guests, who did his little Villa so much honour; and Tisienus was busy in perusing some of Homer's Odes, which he found upon the Table. Out curious Searchers of Ovid's Cabinet, had replaced what they had taken out of it, and shut it again with so much haste and confusion, that one of the Papers, which they had read, was left sticking half in, half out, betwixt the shutters. Tisienus, by accident, cast his eye upon it, and without being perceived by the company, drew it quite out. It was folded up like a Letter, and Tisienus knew the Cabinet belonged to Ovid, as having seen it at his first landing in the hand of one of his Slaves. He imagined, it was a Letter from Terentia, but it had no superscription; which is the most usual way of writing a Billet Doux. Tisienus thought he had encountered now a fair occasion of exercising those resentments, he had long fomented against Maecenas. He hastily pocketed the Paper, with a resolution to examine it in private; and had scarce disposed of it out of sight, when Hortensius came into the room; he had prepared a Collation, as noble, as either the straitness of the place or the time could allow, which he had ordered to be served up in a Gallery, adjoining to Ovid's chamber, whither he invited the Ladies.  
This Gallery was adorned with many excellent pieces, which represented the memorable Gests of the most Renowned Graecian Heroes; you might there behold the triumph of Ulysses over Ajax, upon the dispute of Achilles' Arms. That exultancy of joy, which attends a triumphant success, was lively expressed in the haughty mien of Ulysses; Ajax, on the contrary, bore all the marks of a furious despair, which wildly stared out at the wide casements of his rolling eyes. His cheeks were swollen big with rage, his brows 〈◊〉 clouded, as it were, with a sullen Mist, his eyes sparkling, and unfetled: and at a distant prospect in the same table, you might see him spend his revengeful fury upon a poor tame sheep; whose innocence the ingenious Pencil had so lively expressed, that you would have thought, you had heard her in a mournful accent implore your succour, whilst the butcherly Ajax tearing her bowels out of her body, did barbarously revenge upon this guiltless Animal, an outrage, it had never committed. Consider, I pray, these illustrious Heroes said Ovid, whom Antiquity has commended to us, for no lesle than illustrious Deities. The refusal of a dead Man's Arms, an adverse success of a combat, a slight check of fortune, a small contradiction, deprived them at once both of judgement and sense; and made them convert the points of their Swords upon their own breasts; which they should have turned upon their Enemies. I must confess, that the titles of Divinity, were pure hased good cheap in those days; and that the Demigods in the Fable were very happy, they entered the World before us; for few of them, I suppose, would have received from us the honours, our Forefathers so liberally entailed upon them. See here a Man, said Tisienus, pointing to the Picture of Cymon, who, in what Age soever he had lived, would have attracted to himself the admiration of it. His bravery, his magnificence, and his virtue, was the wonder of all the precedent. And do you seriously believe, said Ovid, interrupting him in an ironical tone, that this virtue, this bravery, this magnificence, was such in effect, as Histories report it. Those, who chronicled the actions of these Heroes, were their own Countrymen; and the glory of their Country, was inseparably annexed to that of the Hero, they would blazon; And the relation of their Jests was rather, an exercise of wit and eloquence, than a sincere and faithful Narration. But if we would take a clear prospect of things, let us consider, what Greece was; it was divided into 10 or 12 Monarchies, and 5 or 6 Republics. The taking of a Town had amongst them the reputation of the conquest of a Kingdom; And a Man that was so brave, as to march half a score Miles, to invade the Territory of his Neighbour; and by surprise, or force, sacked a small Hamlet or Village, had presently the honour of a triumph and title of Conqueror, given him. The same Hyperboles did often likewise elevate their virtue to that admired height, you speak of. Epuminondus was impeached before the Senate of Thebes, for giving the Government of Myoenas, contrary to the express commands of the Republic, to young Calist benes his Favourite; and yet he was esteemed a Person of the greatest virtue amongst the Grecians. The Spartan Laws, which purchased such a reputation to Lycurgus, contain more Precepts, relating to the ease and convenience of human life, than the Libertines of Rome did ever practise. The chiefest care of the Spartans', was to make their Republic populous; and if a feeble and decrepit husband found himself overmatched in a young and sprightly wife, he was obliged to provide a brisk Gallant for her, and own all the children of so excellent a commerce for legitimate, and of his own blood. You make us new Laws for Sparta, cried Tisienus, this pernicious Maxim, was never yet established in any civilised Nation. What I have told you, replied Ovid, with a serious countenance, is a real truth; and the only inducement for me to believe, that the first Lacedæmonians might with some justice pretend to the title of the most wise and judicious Nation of the World. The Collation was brought in just as Ovid had pronounced these last words. If you will take my Advice, said Hortensius, as he was placing the Ladies, let us harken not longer to this eloquent Sophister, he will impose a new sense upon the best established Laws; and I know not whether he will not found out a way, ere it belong, by his subtle chemistry, to extract the principle of a secret Passion, out of the indifferency, I profess. Ovid reserved till another time, the liberty of making an Answer to his Friend; and seating himself next to Roselina, he applied himself, during the repast, to take his measures from the regards of that fair one, and Junia, to discover, which of the two, was the Person, that had those concealed inclinations for him.   
The End of the First Part.   

THE ILLUSTRIOUS EXILES. The Second Part.  

TIsienus, with impatience, attended the end of the Collation, that he might have the freedom to read the Letter, he had drawn out of Ovid's Cabinet, which caused him to steal privately away from the Company; and going forth at the door, which opened towards the Lake, he pulled the Letter out of his Pocket, and fixed his eye upon it with a curiosity, suitable to his resentments against Maecenas: But he was strangely surprised, when he beheld the hand and character of Sulpicia; he raged, he rubbed his eyes as if there had been a Cloud, or thick Mist, before them; he read, and read over again this terrible Letter, before he could be convinced of the truth of what he saw: but he found it one, still as constant, as cruel. This Letter was the same, which Roselina had read some hours before; and there was not a line, or scarce a word in it, which did not bring, or confirm, to the unfortunate Tisienus, the most unpleasing News his Stars could sand him; that distinction of Ovid's desires, and adorations, did aggravate the crime of Sulpicia. Oh! infamous Strumpet, cried Tisienus, transported to the highest rage, no other Amour will satisfy her, than that she robs another of! Ovid has not seduced her by any finery, or stratagem; but has engaged her to be a second to his Treason, without disguising the lest circumstance from her. From this Reflection, passing to that of the Argument, he had so lately held with the Paramour of his Wife, that malicious joy represented itself to his imagination, which he thought Ovid might conceive, when he heard him speak those things of Maecenas, which he might have applied to himself; especially, when he expressed such a confidence of the virtue of Sulpicia, before a person, who was able to have produced convincing proofs to the contrary. The Ironical Repartees, wherewith Ovid retorted the Raileries Tisienus had made upon Maecenas, recurred word by word to his Memory. He shall dye, said he, that infamous Instrument of my dishonour, shall dye. Lentulus, who not long before had absented himself from the Company, in Hortensius' Garden, happened to walk, to divert his Melancholy, near the place, where Tisienus did form his fatal Resolutions; he heard the sentence, he had pronounced; he knew his voice, and fetching a tour about a small plat of bushes, which was betwixt them, Who is that, said he, to Tisienus, whom you have condemned to dye? Have you any Enemies in this Island? Or have you received any News lately, which gives you hopes, you may shortly have the satisfaction of exercising your Revenge, upon those you have in Rome? I was Musing, said Tisienus, (all in a confusion,) upon a place of Homer's Iliads, and recollecting in my fancy, the words, which he makes Menelaus speak, when Paris ravished Helena from him, the force of my imagination caused me to break forth aloud into some of those expressions. The Misfortune of Menelaus, replied Lentulus with a smile, aught to have made a strong impression upon your fancy, since it has made so great an alteration in your countenance, I believe it is rather a prosecution, of what you so lately delivered to us, upon the destiny of Maecenas; you are sensible of the dishonour of abused Husbands. The enraged Tisienus finding these expressions gave a fresh alarm to his disgrace, and not being able to stand his ground to receive a second, left Lentulus abruptly; and directing his hasty steps towards his his own house, made such a precipitate speed in his walk, that Lentulus thought himself not obliged to follow him. His sudden departure struck him with admiration, he could not apprehended the cause of it; he knew Tisienus had not been present at the recital, Ovid had made of his Love-adventures: whereupon he took a resolution to go and re-visit Hortensius, to inform himself if any thing had happened in his absence, which had caused this disorder in Tisienus; but he was prevented by one of his servants, who sought him, and brought him some news, which caused him to return home in haste; it came seasonably to favour Ovid's designs. He led Roselina, who with her Companions was taking a walk towards the Firr-tree Grove, and after he had discovered to her the passage, he had been a private Witness to, at his first landing in Thalassia, the Adventure in the Labyrinth, and many other remarkable Encounters, she was concerned in, he endeavoured to persuade her, that he had, the first Moment he saw her, entertained a passion for her, not inferior to that, which he believed she had allowed a place to in her breast for him, before ever she saw him.  
Roselina was faithful as well to her Lover, as her Friend; and had no design to advantage herself by this Error of Ovid, but only as far as it might give her an innocent diversion. Methinks, said she, you have reason to be satisfied with the hopeful progress, your Merit has already made; you have not been here above five or six days, and you are not ignorant, that there are those, who caress you not in the meanest of their thoughts; you have written Love Verses, which you are assured, have been read; and if it may oblige you, you may perhaps assure yourself too, that those, who have read them, have taken pleasure in reading them, and could wish, that they contained as much Sincerity, as Eloquence. What can your desires aspire to more? you must allow time to perfect the rest. Time, replied Ovid, can claim no title to any Adventure, but where a heart is to be besieged by the slow Approaches of long services, and dull constancy; but when mutual sympathy has already made the breach, and levelled all obstacles, the first Moment, that Lovers see each other, aught to be the last of all diffidence and scrupulosity.  
How? said Roselina, Do you think it than a matter of so slight a consequence, to wave all scruples in favour of a Lover, of Ovid's temper? The History of whose Life, is nothing but a contexture of Love gallantries; whose heart has been a Rover even from the Sceptre, to the Sheep-crook. What caution, or security, would you give a Lady, that she should not be put into the Catalogue with Sulpicia, Virginia, Terentia, Julia, and many more. Oh! Madam, cried the brave Roman, I shall ask not more, whether it be yourself, or Junia, who honours me with the glory of some good wishes; you could not have been so well versed in the whole course of my life, had you not had a curiosity to be instructed in it; and I may with some justice presume, that this curiosity is the Herald, to blazon that disguised Passion, which I am assured a Lady of Thalassia had for me, before she knew me. Whereupon being fully convinced that Roselina was the Party, of whom he was affected, he spoke a thousand tender and passionate things, to obtain of her a private Interview. Love, is not capable of expressing itself but by halves, said he, before Witnesses, grant mine, I beseech you, that liberty it stands in need of, to make its entire declaration; my transports shall give you the caution, you demand; which will express themselves with such ardour, that it would be an injustice to you, to demand a farther security. It is either Fortune or Inconstancy, which you aught to impute the multiplicity of my Intriqus too: I never had had but one in the whole series of my life, if I had obeyed the natural inclinations of my heart; Pardon those few extravagant courses, which necessity forced it to take, and you shall not found it has been guilty of being common; it is the same it was, when the first Princess of the Universe did not disdain the humble Sacrifices, it daily offered to her Divinity; And I hope, that because it has been so much consecrated to Love, you will not allow it the lesle esteem in your thoughts; since it will prove the glory of your Beauty, to triumph over such multitudes of others.  
Junia, who accompanied by Adiamante, and led by Hortensius, followed Roselina at a little distance, was something concerned at the long converse, her Friend held with Ovid. Do you think, said she to Roselina, that the Destinies have sent Ovid into this Island, for your conversation only? Can you pretend to any Prerogative over him, more than others? And do you think it a piece of justice, to engross him wholly to yourself, and allow us no share in him?  
You must pardon the fault, replied Roselina, if the Rules of Equity are forgotten, when Ovid is present; but I shall return to my Devoir, said she, making a stop, as soon as I am admonished of it; and I here resign to you this noble Person, more complacent, and more agreeable, than I received him. These last words did strongly confirm the presumptive hopes of our Illustrious Exile; he repeated them more than once, in his fancy; and could allow them no other interpretation, but what did flatter his desires; and finding Roselina most infinitely amiable, he perceived, that the raptures her presence inspired him with, began insensibly to deface out of his Memory all the vanishing Ideas of the Court of Augustus. The confidence, which Lentulus had testified to him in acquainting him with his Engagements with Herennia, did sometimes intrude a small scruple amongst his pleasing transports: But, besides that your Amorists by profession are not very scrupulous in entrenching upon the borders of friendship, Ovid was not unfurnished with reasons, to authorise his proceed. He knew, a Lady in Thalassia had a passion for him, before he knew Lentulus had one for Roselina; it was no design in himself, but the capriciousness of his Stars, which had rendered him his Rival; if his reputation had acquired him a Mistress, could he prevent it? Was there any obligation lay upon him, to sacrifice this Mistress, to the confidence of a Friend, since he had never endeavoured to force out of his Mouth the secret of his Love? And aught he to refuse this glorious Present Fortune now makes him, because Lentulus is guilty of an indiscretion? This reasoning having embroiled the fancy of Ovid most part of the night, and at last calmed those storms, (which he concluded a virtue out of season had raised) he resolved to bend all his endeavours to the accomplishing his desires. He had observed, that from the Gallery, where the Collation was held the night before, there was a fair descent by a pair of stony Stairs down into the terrace Walk in the Garden: This he judged was the most compendious and most commodious passage to Roselina's Lodgings; and with this intention he came out of his Chamber; when passing through the same Gallery, he perceived Hortensius, with his hands crossed over his breast, with large and hasty steps measuring the length of it. Is it you, Hortensius, said Ovid, who walk at so large a rate? I had thought that your solitude, and this manner of walking, had not agreed with the indifferency you profess. Ha! my dear Ovid, replied Hortensius, with a voice quite altered from its usual tone, I am plunged into the deepest Abyss of Despair: you believe, doubtless, with all the World, that by a principle of indifferency, I refused from the hand of Caesar the Wife, he had designed me. I believed indeed, replied Ovid, that either having an aversion for the person of Aurelia, or against Marriage in general, you had preferred your liberty before all the Advantages, which were proposed to you. This Maxim of Independency is commendable amongst the ancient Stoics, but amongst us Modern Romans is a perfect Fanaticism. If you had had any pre-engagements, to which the offers of Caesar were either repugnant, or destructive, the consideration of your fidelity might perhaps fix a moderate censure upon your proceed; but that without any other cause, but out of a mere capricio of fancy, you should reject such considerable Advantages; attract the indignation of Caesar by your refusals, abandon your Native Soil, to inhabit Rocks and Deserts, is that, which with all your Friends, I must impute to you as a Problem of unanswerable folly; and that, which I should be glad, you were able to justify to the World. I am able to justify it most assuredly, replied Hortensius, and with more facility to a person, who is not insensible of the effects of Love, than to any other. Give Attention than to a Secret, which is more really a Secret, than that you have confided to me. I have a most sincere kindness for you, and I found my grief too weighty, to neglect an occasion to discharge a part of it, into the bosom of the best of my Friends.   

THE HISTORY OF Hortensius.  
THE Mother of the great Julius, whose Niece Aurelia is, and whose Name she bears, was descended, as without doubt you have heard, of the Race of the Hortensiuses. This Alliance did allow me a familiarity with Aurelia from my infancy: And whereas this familiarity has been censured by some, to have been the Mother of that Antipathy, which the World judges is engrafted in my nature against the person of Aurelia, it has on the contrary proved the ground of a most immovable and a most violent passion. I may presume to publish it, without the fear of a displeasure. Aurelia expressed a tender respect, and confidence towards me; and I assured myself, that her Relations would embrace my honourable Suit; but my Love was of no vulgar stamp, and character: It ambitioned to bind the heart of Aurelia to its faithful services, and her own choice, rather than to the Laws of her Duty. My ready obedience did attend each nod of her head, each motion of her person; which I disguised, under the notion of a respect and diligence, our Alliance might challenge from me; but which were really services, that claimed a near Alliance to Love. I found they were understood in their right sense by Aurelia; And believing, that the happy Moment to second them was arrived, I went to seek her with that intention; when at my entrance into Lucullus' Garden, where I heard she was, I found some Tablets dropped, which I knew belonged to her: I opened them with that impatient curiosity, which every one has for the concerns of the person, they love, where I found these Verses: 
Draw to the life the Love-blind god; his face,  
His hair, his feature, lineaments, and grace;  
Add to these Charms a fierce and noble air,  
Than you'll, th' ingrate, I love, found present there.  
Imagine how just hopes do my desires inflame;  
Resign my reason than to those desires, I name;  
Oppose to both a Soul as fierce, as cold,  
And you'll the mystery of my sighs unfold.   
These Verses raised a tempest in my thoughts, though I knew no cause for it. Aurelia commanded as great a liberty, as she pleased; her Mother had been dead a long time, and she was under the tuition of an Aunt, a person of a sweet disposition, who had an entire confidence in the virtue of her Niece. By this her manner of living, Aurelia attracted to her all the youthful Gallantry of the Court; but I could not perceive, that any of those, who visited her, did by any particular services endeavour to oblige her esteem. She was neither of that rank, nor merit, to created an indifferency in the object of her desires; in fine, I could see no cause to make an application of those Verses to Aurelia: yet notwithstanding they charged my thoughts with an unusual trouble and perplexity, I sought her company, to dissipate it; and having in vain made a diligent inquest in every place, where I hoped to found it, I was guided, at length, by my roving thoughts, into that part of the Cypress Grove, which borders upon the Labyrinth of Myrtles. I was scarce entered two or three paces into one of the Walks, when I thought I heard the voice of Aurelia from an Arbour not far distant from me; I gave a diligent attention: for there is no Lover, who would not be desirous to rob his Mistress of a secret, if he could do it so, as the Theft might not be discovered.  
Those, who attribute such an unlimited power to Virtue, said Aurelia to another person, are as ignorant of the effects of that, as of Love. Virtue is capable to give a bridle to our passions, but not stifle them in their birth; it has forced me to dissemble those sentiments, I caress for my Ingrate, but it cannot effect, that this Ingrate should not be the most amiable of all Men; that my eyes should not think him so, and that maugre his indifferency, he should not be the only person in the Universe, which I am destined to love. Oh! ye Gods, what shape of rage and jealousy did not this discourse transform me into? I thought my life would have expired betwixt them; but bridling the effects of both, that I might live to gain a perfect knowledge of all the circumstances of my Misfortune, I heard a person, whom, by the sound of her voice, I conjectured to be Helvidia, Mecoenas' Niece, make this Answer: Is it possible that a person of so much reason and discretion, should suffer herself to be charmed by the eye? Cepion is a person, I must confess, of a good presence and mien, but the superficial parts of a Man, shall never ensnare my heart; if I must surrender my liberty, it should be to a noble passion, and to the languishing sighs and vows of a not lesle noble Lover, and not to his good looks, or modish postures. Were he Master of all the beauties and charms, which Painters with their luxuriant Pencils have bestowed upon Adonis; if he were not passionate, humble, and faithful, I should regard those other exterior varnishes, not more than that of a beautiful Picture; and all, which that artificial Magic should be able to charm from the sense of my tenderest affectation, would be at most but a favourable look, or smile. And what I have hitherto indulged to the charms of Cepion, replied Aurelia, has been no more: And so much they are able to command from all, that see him. I thought to have allowed him not more, than what the most indifferent might grant him; but I perceived, that the Ideas, which entered at the casements of my eyes, did insensibly penetrate into the cabinet of my heart. I oftentimes imagined I saw the figure of Cepion a long time present before my eyes, after they had lost the noble Object: He was all day the business of my thoughts, all night the labour of my fancy. I suffered these slight Preludium's to gather strength, by reposing an over-confidence in those Maxims, you just now delivered: for how could I suspect, my heart should be guilty of such a folly, as to have a Passion for a Man, that had none for me? I believed with you, that a woman endued with common sense, could never be capable of yielding up her Reason to the Attacks of the Senses: But yet I did so; and though I perceived by what Arts they betrayed me, yet I found it was not in my power to resist the effects of their Treason. Oh! just Heavens! cried I out aloud, is it possible that this should be Aurelia, who speaks what I hear, and that Hortensius should be so unfortunate to hear, what she speaks? This Exclamation of mine, caused them to come suddenly forth of the Arbour, where they were. I leave you to judge, what a look Aurelia darted at me, when she saw her secret was discovered: Too curious, and ill-advised Hortensius, said she, with an inflamed countenance, thou hast, against my consent, stolen from me the confession of a weakness, which I would have concealed from the whole World: But, if thy looks do not deceive me, I shall found a means to chastise thy indiscretion. I command thee never to set foot more within my Apartment, and I shall take such caution to avoid thy Encounter in places indifferent, that thou shalt not often have the pleasure to upbraid my blusher with the imbecility of my Actions. Having said this, she fling away from me, and left me in a confusion, I am not able to express. I had scarce recovered the first Fit of this Ecstasy, when I saw Cepion approach me; we were very familiar, he came often to visit Aurelia, and it was my custom to spend six or seven hours every day in her company. What makes Hortensius in this solitary place and posture, said he to me? Is he musing upon his Amorous Adventures? Does he solace his thoughts with the pleasure of some fortunate Encounter? Or put them into Mourning, for the loss of his Mistress? I believe Cepion had no other intention in his Raillery, than to make it the Subject of a youthful discourse; and that he knew not, how near it lanced me to the quick; but presuming to fix such an interpretation upon his words, as I borrowed from the circumstance of what had lately happened, it becomes you well, Cepion, said I, to insult thus over my Misfortunes; hug yourself with that fancy: But, perhaps, you may be defective in some Article of your conceited felicity, if thinking to rob me of the heart of Aurelia, you shall not long enjoy the satisfaction of glorying in my disgrace! I? cried Cepion, I rob you of the heart of Aurelia? Not, said I, in a rage, you do not rob me of it; for she bestows it as a free gift upon you, and this is a conquest too inglorious to boast of.  
The conquest, replied Cepion something coldly, would be too glorious for Cepion; and I must avow, that Aurelia is capable to charm the whole World: but yet avouch too, that the heart of Cepion is uncapable to receive the impression, which the Merit of Aurelia, has power to dilate through the Universe. The charms of that incomparable beauty, would require a heart, pregnant with fidelity and constancy; desires, which can acknowledge no other Deity, but herself, for their object, and many other perfections of an accomplished Lover, which my Genius was never endued with: when I love, I love only for myself; and the Passion, I entertain for Ladies, may be more properly called a youthful diversion, than a real Love.  
I am not so credulous, said I, interrupting him, to take for granted, what you affirm. You act a subtle part, under the disguise of the indifferent one, whilst I am assured, that Aurelia complains of your ingratitude; and that the excess of her love, or jealousy, presents you to her eyes in the shape of that ungrateful one she accuses: But it is not possible you should be so, towards a person of her Merit, and that you should not love her, that loves you. You surprise me with Wonder, said Cepion smiling, to see you take so much pains to persuade me I love Aurelia, which you aught to take to dissuade me from the thoughts of it, if I had so much presumption, as to entertain any to that effect. This remark of his, began a little to recall me to myself; I was sensible, that I was guilty of an Act of high imprudence, in endeavouring thus to convince my Rival of his good fortune. I suddenly pretended business with young Paulus Aemilius, who crossed the end of the Walk, we were in; and being much dissatisfied with my Mistress, Cepion, and myself, I hastily retired home to my house.  
Though I ever regarded with an eye of scorn and contempt the servile homage, the greatest part of your Courtiers, pay to the Favourites of Princes, yet I would not do the glory of the great Agrippa that injustice, as to rank those offices, the Court of Augustus rendered him, in the same form. I saw that his virtue purchased him his favour; and I endeavoured, by all the services I was capable of, to convince him, that I had a most real and candid esteem for his Merits; and I am assured, he held me in the number of his most particular Friends; he gave me a signal testimony of it, at that time, I mention: which you are not a stranger to, though perhaps, you may be, to the circumstances. A deep Melancholy had seized me, caused by the unprosperous success of my amorous designs, and converted all the gaiety of my humour into a sullen chagrin, when one day I was advertised, the Emperor commanded my presence; I yielded a ready obedience to his commands. As soon as he saw me, he led me into his Closet; and after he had extolled the Nobility of my Extraction, and the Merit of many illustrious Heroes, it had presented to the Empire; I consider, said he, that Fortune treats you, as she uses to treat persons of higher Virtue; she belies you to be so rich in your own, that the thinks she should offer you an affront, to make you a Present of any of her favours. I see many Families in Rome, which aught to acknowledge an inferiosity to yours; whose Wealth or prosperous Suits, have elevated them to the highest Dignities. I will not suffer this injustice to insult longer over you. The Praetor, who held the Government of Egypt, is lately dead, which I confer upon you, with the Praetorship for the first year. I cast myself at the feet of Caesar, to tender him thanks for a grace so unexpected, and lesle merited by me. Hold, said Caesar, this is not the sole one, Intent you; Princes are accountable to none but the gods, for their Actions; though we see the best and the greatest stand in need of the suffrages and affections of the meanest of their Subjects to support their Sovereignty. There is not one of all my Followers, who can aspire with more justice than yourself to the employ I design you; but there are few amongst them who will do my judgement that right as to assent to it; for every one is apt to think, that what is not bestowed upon himself, is detracted from his merit.  
But I will remove this stumbling Block out of their way, by colouring the Present, I shall make you, with the title of Alliance. Aurelia is Niece to the Mother of the Great Julius, my Father; and an obligation lies upon me, to make a provision for her establishment; wherefore I bestow her upon you in Marriage; tender your thanks for both these favours to Agrippa; for he is the person who has revived in my memory the character of the brave Race of the Hortensiuses.  
Consider with yourself, I beseech you, as well the trouble, as surprise, this Proposal of Caesar brought to my already distracted thoughts: If he had declared it but three or four days before, he had rendered me the most fortunate person of the Universe: I passionately loved Aurelia; and this passion was the first impression that Love ever stamped upon my heart. I was ready to make my acknowledgements to the Emperor, and offer up at his feet all the thanks so unexampled a Grace could challenge from me: but a second consideration represented to my confused thoughts the violence I should impose upon Aurelia, if being wholly preingaged in the favour of my Rival, I should be an envious Instrument in compelling her to receive me for her Husband. This imagination raised a civil war in my breast; I could not resolve to own a Concern of so precious a value, to any other Orders, than those of Love. I told the Emperor, that I could not tell with what resentment Aurelia would receive the honour, his bounty was pleased to confer upon me; that I was sensible of its just estimate; and that I should be prodigal both of my services, and my blood, to tender myself worthy of it; but withal, that if with the Government of Egypt he should offer me the moiety of his Empire, I should refuse it, rather than hazard to force the inclinations of a Lady allied to the Blood of Caesar.  
The Emperor commended as well my discretion, as modesty; and telling me he would take upon himself the charge of obtaining Aurelia's consent to what he desired, he left me, and went towards the Empresses Apartment. As I was coming out of Caesar's Closet, I met Cepion at the door; and well, said he to me, drawing me aside to a window, Are you yet of the opinion, that I am your Rival? Know it is I, who this day surrenders the possession of Aurelia into your hands. I waited last night upon Agrippa in his Chamber, when he declared to divers persons there present, the glorious fortune the Emperor had designed you: I privately informed him of the condition, Caesar was obliged to add to the rest of his favours, if he intended to complete your felicity: And is this a service consistent with the designs of a Man, that had an intention to rob you of the heart of your Mistress? All that you have done, answered I, and all that Caesar is able to do, cannot assure me, but that you are yet my Rival: That assurance is only lodged in the heart of Aurelia; and it is from thence, that I must draw it; But since I shall not be capable to obtain her, without committing a Rape upon her inclination, she shall remain the Mistress of Cepion for ever, and Hortensius shall never be her Husband: you express a great weakness, replied Cepion, in harbouring thus an imagination, that Aurelia has that kindness for me, which I could never yet perceive the lest symptom of; and whereof I do not desire a clearer evidence: for were it true, that she should honour me with some good wishes, a necessity would enforce me to requited them with an ingrateful insensibility: but though I glory in the expression, I do not desire to purchase amongst Women, the Title of Cruel, or Ingrate. Repeal this fanatical opinion, I conjure you, and believe, that there is no person in the Court of Augustus, who shall make you a more sincere Congratulation upon your glorious Marriage, than that you shall receive from Cepion.  
A great Concourse of my friends, who came pay their Congratulations to me, upon the report of those honours, Caesar had heaped upon me, interrupted our longer Converse. He assured himself of the obedience of Aurelia, and discoursed publicly of our Marriage before the Empress, and the Charge he had annexed to it, as of a thing firmly ratified and concluded. I leave you to judge what a distraction I was in, when I was forced on all sides to receive the Compliments of Mars and Hymen: I was sensible of an obstacle that intercepted the way to my felicity, which none of them had a jealousy of; which caused me to receive them with that coldness, which drew admiration from all that knew me whilst every one by way of a serious kind of raillery, told me, I was not as sensible as I aught to be, of the Blessings Heaven had showered upon me. I was exposed to this persecution all the rest of the day; and as I walked forth in the evening, to disengage myself from so many troublesome Visitants, I met one of Aurelia's Slaves, who came from her Lady to tell me, that she had some business with me, and desired my company. I had never seen her since the day she had forbidden me her house. I ran to present myself unto her with that confusion and haste, as your fancy will easily comprehend. You have done this morning, said she to me, as I approached her, an act of the highest generosity, that ever man could yet boast of: I am acquainted with all the circumstances of so glorious an action; It is not sufficient to say a man loves, to convince the World that he does so; Effects are more expressive than Words, and I do not doubt but that you have a real passion for me; yet notwithstanding you have rejected the offers of Caesar; taken into your compassionate consideration my preingagements; and renouncing the title another would have given you over my Heart, sacrificed your most passionate desires to a generous despair, for fear of imposing a violence upon my inclinations: Ha! Hortensius, what aught not my gratitude to enterprise, to compensate thy generosity? I could quarrel with my Stars for your sake, in being so unkind to give me such fatal inclinations. Lend me your assistance to conquer them; redeem my heart out of the power of that Ingrate, who detains it prisoner against my consent; you have a spacious field granted you, to draw up all your forces in, to attack his unworthiness; compel my Soul to do that through gratitude, which through the influence of my unfortunate Stars it is not capable to do by inclination.  
After divers expressions to this effect, which I answered by submissive regards, and deep sighs more sensibly than by words; we agreed, that to indulge me time to induce her to that, which her goodness was than pleased to style her duty, I should make it my request to Agrippa, to supplicate Caesar to allow me a short space to consider the Proposals, he had made me. Agrippa was surprised when he heard me; You do not seriously reflect upon what you say, replied Agrippa: the Government of Egypt is the most considerable that Caesar has in his power to dispose of; it is ambitioned by the most illustrious Pretenders about the Court; and although the apprehensions of seeing it devolved into other hands should not oblige you to press the Emperor to the execution of his promise, yet the possession of Aurelia, should methinks, excite you to prosecute all advantages, with a most restless impatience. The possession of Aurelia, my Lord, said I, would not be the same to me, which perhaps it might be to another. I must be excused if I declare not more to you at present; but without examining, whether I have reason on my side or not, I humbly beg in the name of that friendship you are pleased to honour me with, that you would endeavour to retard for a while the effects of Caesar's generosity towards me. Agrippa might with ease, satisfy my request; for news came that same day, that the Praetor, who commanded in Egypt, was not dead; that he was past hopes of recovery, and that his distemper was accompanied with symptoms, which were judged to be mortal, but that he was yet alive.  
I had now as much time, as Aurelia could hope for, to accomplish the cure, she desired me to undertake. I left no stone unmoved to effect a work of such importance; and Cepion seemed to second me with his faithful endeavours. He uttered things in the presence of Aurelia, which touch me sometimes with real resentments against his ingratitude. I thank Heaven, said he, one day, discoursing upon the subject of the deaths of Antony and Cleopatra, that I was not born to be commended to Posterity for one of those memorable examples: I am incapable of that honour; and what would be a glorious fortune another, would prove to me the greatest of misfortune. The Ladies are so fully convinced of this truth in me, that they think it not worth their pains to levelly their Darts at so impenetrable a Mark, as my Heart; and I am much obliged to them for their discretion; for if any one of them should either out of inclination, or any other motive, testify the least good will for me, I should fly her company, as one would fly the encounter of his greatest Enemy.  
These discourses did oftentimes produce their effect: The Curtain is drawn from before my Eyes, said Aurelia to me, Cepion is not so worthy of my affection, as his flattering appearances would falsely persuade me. I must aver, for the credit of my own judgement, that there are few men in the World, in whom the exterior Characters shine with a nobler lustre than in his; but do you observe the pride and audacity, which usurps a prerogative over all his other qualifications. He has such a respect for himself, as begets in him a contempt and disrespect of all others. He looks as if he conceited no person but himself were worthy of his own esteem. This self-love from his person, passes to his Spirit and Wit; he is enamoured of his own opinions; and esteems it a point of honour to enter the Lists, and sustain them against Opponents; our Sex is not thought worthy to have the liberty of offering an argument in its own defence; the lest condescension in favour of it, he accounts a blemish to his high erudition, and thinks he should wound his reputation, to admit a Woman to enterprise her verdict in any of his disputes. Ha! generous Hortensius, did I own you no other acknowledgements than for the cure you have effected upon those contagious errors, wherewith that arrogant person had infected my judgement, I should die deeply in your debt. Madam, said I, the best expedient to complete the cure you mention, is to proscribe that Ingrate both from your thoughts and lips; I believe you do not name him, but to accuse his miscarriages; yet this is always to entertain him in your thoughts; and what pretence soever it be, that revokes him to your memory, aught to be suspected to have a tincture of love in it. That tincture, thanks to the gods, said Aurelia, my Soul is now free from, and I blush to think it should ever have received so ignoble an impression. I was enchanted without doubt, and the Passion I had for a man who requited it with so little respect, or complaisance, could not be but the effect of a magical operation.  
Aurelia was not long fixed to this opinion; one obliging expression, one civil regard of Cepion, would re-entangle her again as fast as ever in the snares of her old Amour. Sometimes she would commend the noble part of his person: sometimes the colour and elegancy of his hair; when any one discourses before her of any features or charms, which were remarkable in the face of another, and had a resemblace of those in Cepion's; those graces, would she say to me, with a sigh, can pretend in no other person in the World to those advantages, they found in my Ingrate. Did you ever see a blue eye sparkle like his? Nature has mixed in his complexion all her richest colours. The whiteness of his teeth, makes Ivory itself look pale for envy; his mouth, though large, includes in its circumference a thousand charms; and his mien breathes I know not what; so gentle and noble, that it commands both respect and admiration, from all that behold him.  
This levity and constancy of humour, did more than half distracted me; I resolved a thousand times to make a private retreat out of Rome, and fly so far from the noise of misfortunes, that I should never hear more the names of Cepion and Aurelia. But at length my perseverance seemed to attract upon my sufferings some compassion from Heaven; Aurelia solemnly protested to me, that she perceived the hour was near at hand, wherein her distemper should receive a perfect cure; and all her actions avoucht her expressions. She could see Cepion without changing colour; she testified no regard of any thing, he affected to say to her. She scarce took notice he was in any place, where she was. I believe this alteration in Aurelia produced the same effect in the Soul of my Rival, as the like might do in the thoughts of most men; I observed that he followed Aurelia with more assiduity and ardour than before; he was always whispering some little secret in her ear, and I oftentimes discovered them making to each other private signs of intelligence. This new intrigue involved me in a new perplexity, and I could not conceal it from Aurelia. You do my sincerity an injury, said she to me; I have ingenuously confessed to you all the errors of my weakness; which you aught to believe I have long since repealed, since you have my solemn protestation for it; Indulge a peace to your troubled thoughts; Cepion shall never be the object of my love, his triumphs have seen their most glorious days. Why than, Madam, said I, are there so many visible marks daily given of a secret combination, to alarm my jealousy? That which alarms your suspicion, replied Aurelia, aught to assure you of my integrity; the hatred of that, which once one tenderly affected, is a kind of destruction, which wears the Vizard Mask of a kindness. I will not suffer one spark of that fire to harbour itself any longer in my heart; and Cepion is now grown indifferent to me, to that degree, that I shall always place him in the first rank of my Friends, and the last of my Lovers.  
This kind of indifferency did not at all relish to the palate of my Love; I conjured Aurelia to confine her disingagements within the beaten tract of others; and not expose herself to those dangerous precipices, to the brink whereof her nice distinctions must necessarily reduce her. She spoke many passionate things to me, which in appearance aught to have convinced my jealousy; but they could not calm it: I observed daily the familiar carriage of her, and my Rival; but too much for my repose. As I was coming one night out of Paulus Aemilius his house, when I had Supped, (which is seated, as you know, in a place of little Concourse) and crossing a passage, which leads from the Garden down to the River Tiber, I discovered by the Moonshine, the glimpse of a person, which seemed to me to wear the Liverty of Aurelia. I stopped to see how he would dispose of himself; when presently I saw him go directy to a Man, who about thirty paces from thence, stood waiting among some Trees; they went both of them together from that place, and directed their course towards a private door, which opened into Maecenas his Gardens, and there went in. I had a curiosity to be informed of their design, which caused me to follow them. I had scarce got into one of the Allies, which first offered itself to my silent steps, when I thought I heard Cepion's Voice from the other side of a Quickset-hedge, next to me.  
Didst thou take good notice of the place where thou didst leave her? said he, Yes, my Lord, replied another man; she waits for you in the Arbour, at the end of the great Terrace, which is covered over with those yellow Flowers which came out of Spain. My dear Boy, said Cepion, what rewards do I not own thy zeal and fidelity? besides thy freedom, which I am assured I can beg of Aurelia, I have nothing in the World that I think a recompense equal to this service, thou hast done me.  
Cepion kept walking on, as he talked, and I kept at an even distance with him; but stopped a little before I came to the end of the Walk, for fear of meeting him; I saw him cross over a green square, and perceived distinctly from the place where I stood, that it was the same person, I had seen before amongst the trees, and that the Slave that followed him, belonged to Aurelia.  
I am able to convince the World, that never man yet died of grief or jealousy, since I survived that fatal sight. Shaking and trembling I crept along under the shelter of a Pomegranatehedge, that bordered one side of the Terrace, which my Rival ascended; and stealing softly round the Arbour the Slave had described, I applied my ear to that part of it, which was thickest shaded, with the over-hanging leaves and curling flowers. Dispense with me, my dear Ovid, from relating to you what I than heard, I am distracted with rage and jealousy, as often as I think upon this abhorred encounter. I was resolved to interrupt the felicity of this too happy Rival, and had in my fury washed away the stains of the affront, he offered my love, with his Blood; but my Sword being entangled in some of the boughs, forced me to make some noise to disengage it; which struck a sudden terror into the fortunate Lovers. The Lady committed her hasty flight to the dark shades; and Cepion leaping of from the Terrace into the Walk under it, conveyed himself away with such speed, that it was impossible for me to retrieve him amongst those intricate Meanders. My greedy eye made a strict search after my unfaithful one, to charge her treachery with my just reproaches; but all I could recover of her was a glimpse at a great distance, as she ran into the house, with her Slave at her heels. I went to the door to wait for her coming forth, with a resolution to impeach her of her Treason; but she returned not that night to her own Lodgings; and I was informed by her Coachman, who drove home her Chariot, that she intended to lodge with Heluidia.  
You are a Master in the Art of Love, my dear Ovid, and do doubtless comprehend, what the most significant expressions, would be too dull a Pencil to depaint to you. I passed the whole night in measuring the length of my Chamber over and over with my large paces; and next morning Agrippa did me the honour to give me a visit. I know not what more, said he, approaching me, to allege to Caesar, for the farther retardment of his Commands. Our Praetor is now infallibly dead; and last night Aurelia advertised the Emperor by Terentia, that his designs and commands in your favour, were entirely conformable to her own desires. Do you tell me, my Lord, said I, interterrupting his discourse, that Aurelia has assured the Emperor, she gives her free consent to our Marriage? Yes certainly, said Agrippa; and does likewise press the accomplishment of it with all the earnestness, her modesty can dispense with. I am much obliged to her, answered I, for so generous a complaisance; but she may honour some other with it, if she pleases; for Aurelia shall never be the Wife of Hortensius. You are not, I fear, in your right understanding, replied Agrippa, astonished at my repartee, What can you desire in a a Woman, which you cannot found in Aurelia? She is full of Youth, Beauty, Wit, and allied to Caesar, who presents her to you with his own hand, and for a Portion, the most eminent Charge in the whole Empire. The Emperor may Portion her with the whole Empire itself, if he pleases, said I, but Hortensius shall never share any part in his Bounty.  
Heavens! What can I allege in your justification, replied Agrippa, when the Emperor shall justly resent this unexampled contempt of his most gracious favours? I will tell him, said I, that I am resolved never to marry; that I have a natural antipathy against the Sex; and that nothing aught to be more free to a Man than the resignation of his liberty. You aught to have declared so much before, said Agrippa, displeased with my discourse, and not to expose a Cousin-german of the Great Julius to the public scandal of an open repulse. This manner of proceeding is not capable of any excuse; your friends will all disown your interests, if you do not speedily return to yourself; and do that with a ready complaisance, which you cannot refuse to do, without drawing upon yourself, together with an inevitable ruin, the indignation of an incensed Emperor. I was furnished, but with too many and too convincing reasons, which I might have offered in my own defence, but a too just respect for that ingrateful one; for whom I ever had, and still retain an honourable Passion, hindered me from publishing her infamy. She thought perhaps to put this consideration to the extremity of the Test; or whether it were that she imagined it was not in my power to withdraw it, from the object, it had been so long settled upon, or that being really ignorant of the true cause of my resentments, she was desirous to clap a specious Mask over the visage of her foul faced Intrigue, she counterfeited a most extreme grief, for the repulse, I had given her solemn declarations. She sent me Letters, to confute that Capricio of mine, as she termed it, sugared over with expressions, as would certainly have seduced me, had it been possible for artifice to have done it. I was transported beyond all patience at this last testimony of her treachery; and I think I should scarce have commanded the impetuosity of my rage, had I had an opportunity to have vented it; but Caesar, discovering nothing in my proceed, but what bore the character of Arrogance and Ingratitude, sent a party of his Guards to me, with a Commission to Convoy me out of Italy, and an express command likewise to forbidden me to return, till he was pleased to recall me.  
You are now acquainted with the secret of that Adventure, which with so much injustice, has fixed upon me the title of Indifferent. But, my dear Ovid, see the capriciousness of my destiny: the Image of Aurelia is scarce yet defaced out of my Soul; rage and contempt aught to have banished it out of all her dominion, the very instant I discovered her Treasons; but a heart condemned by heaven to a rigorous fate of constancy, is deaf to all admonitions, and insensible of all advantages, which are offered for its disingagement. I must avouch, to the shame of my judgement, that I am not yet possessed with a due resentment of Aureliaes' ingratitude; I conserve neither a Love, nor an esteem for her; but that despite, which now usurps the place of both, is a greater Tyrant to my repose, than those ever were: And could you imagine what object malicious fortune should now present to this despite? Cepion, that very Cepion, who is the Author of all my misfortunes, and from whom I have derived so many fatal injuries, is at this hour in the Isle of Thalassia.  
You tell me a wonder, said Ovid, What design has invited him to visit this inhuman Climate? I know not, replied Hortensius, but he landed yesterday in the evening; and lodged last night at Lentulus his quarters; I fancied I saw Cepion afar of walking with him, as I returned from waiting upon Ladies to their Lodgings; but the little probability of such a truth lessening the credit of my eyes at such a distance, I could allow none to so strange a Vision. Whereupon I sent one of my Servants to be informed of the reality of it, who affirms that which my eyes did make a doubt of; Cepion is in this Island, and I must either be forced to endure the sight of a person I hate above all the World, or desert a Solitude, which I begin to take delight in, and have expended too much cost and time in cultivating it, to leave it without a sensible regret.  
As Hortensius was speaking this, he espied Lentulus at the other end of the Gallery, and with him his Rival, whose sight he so much abhorred. Hortensius could not Master the first motions of his horror; he owed a respect to the place, which something reflected upon the person, who was in his own house; and never did man more religiously maintain the Laws of hospitality, or the devoirs of civility; but at this time, being incapable of observing either, he hastily rushed into Ovid's Chamber, and shut the door after him. Lentulus had a particular kindness for Cepion, from whom he had received an important advice, which nearly concerned his safety; & this sole motive had brought him into Thalassia. Lentulus was touched to the Soul, to see in what manner he was treated by Hortensius, What frenzy has invaded your friend? said he to Ovid: Is he subject to these distempers? Or is it our fight, that has brought them upon him?  
Cepion is able to resolve your doubt, replied Ovid, smiling upon Lentulus: he of the three is the person, whom this proceeding, I presume, does lest surprise. I swear to you, said Cepion, I am no lesle surprised at it, than either of you can be. Hortensius has been formerly of an opinion, that a certain person expressed too great a kindness for me in a circumstance he was not capable to digest: I thought I had not omitted any thing to undeceive him of his error: But he has since testified so scornful a contempt for the Lady, who was the subject of that contest, that though he thought himself not obliged to credit my proceed, yet his own mutability in deserting his Mistress, aught to have dissipated those clouds of jealousy, which hung so long over his head. You relate to us nothing but false appearances, said Ovid; he that would satisfy his credulity with them, would conclude Hortensius were in a fault; you could not prevent any persons having a kindness for you; you did not endeavour to improve that kindness; nay you contributed all that lay in your power to extinguish it. But Cepion, but the Moonlight Adventure in the Garden of Maecenas; the Assignation in the Arbour at the end of the Great Terrace, pray tell us, does it deserve in your opinion the thanks, or embraces of Hortensius? Cepion stood mute for a while at this reproach of Ovid; than suddenly lifting up his hands and eyes to Heaven; Oh! ye just gods, cried he out, What is this, I hear? How? said he, fixing his eyes intentively upon Ovid; Is Hortensius acquainted with the Encounter of the Grand Terrace? So well, replied Ovid, that he was even an earwitness to it. It was he who made that noise, and gave you the Alarm, that forced you to leap over the Terrace; and it was that assurance of your felicity, which caused him to judge it would not be any discretion in him, to disturb it, by marrying the person, who was proposed to him.  
With that Cepion walked towards the door, whereat he had seen Hortensius enter. Grant me the liberty, I beseech you, said he, to confute the most unjust opinion that ever suspicion yet harboured in her jealous Brain. Aurelia's virtue is unblemished with the crimes with which you charge it; she affects you most passionately; and supports all your reproaches with a goodness, that merits your highest adorations.  
Ovid wisely imagined that Hortensius would be desirous to convince Cepion of an error, or be convinced by him of his own; and judging that Lentulus would be a sufficient Umpire in the case, he silently stole from them, and slipped undiscovered out at the door, which descends into the Garden. He was scarce out of the house when a young Slave, who waited on Roselina, came from his Mistress to inquire for him. Lentulus' spied the Boy, at the entrance of a door, which Hortensius his Servants had opened. to look into the Room for Ovid. He run to him, to ask him his business. I have brought a Note from Roselina, said the Slave, to a Roman, who lodges here. Give it me, said Lentulus, and I will deliver it to Ovid. The Boy knowing that Lentulus was a particular friend of his Mistress, made no difficulty to give him the Ticket he brought. Lentulus walked a little aside, that the Slave might not see him open it, and with an earnest curiosity casting his eyes upon it, he found these expressions. Your Thalassian Mistress is resolved to grant you the private interview, you begged of her. Fail not to tender yourself this night at the same Wilderness where you writ the Verses, you know of; all things shall be so disposed, that you shall enjoy your desired satisfaction without disturbance.  
Herennia did not declare herself in the Billet to be the Lover, it spoke of; but jealousy would not suffer Lentulus to doubt it could be any other. He saw her, as she came out of the Wilderness, which the Ticket made mention of; and found her reading something, which he judged to be the Verses, it specified; and she herself had told him, that what she was reading, did treat of a Love-intrigue.  
He is now fully convinced, that Herennia is not only unfaithful, but that Ovid too is the secret Rival, he seeks after. Whereupon he resolves to tender himself at the appointed Rendezvous, instead of the new Lover; and after he had returned an answer to the Slave, by one of Hortensius' Servants, That Ovid would not fail to obey the orders which were sent him, he went forth in a furious rage, and left Cepion and Aureliaes' Lover the liberty to entertain each other without Witnesses, or constraint. The amorous Ovid had nothing lesle in his thoughts, than what was projecting against him. He was ignorant of the Rape, Tisienus had committed upon the Letter of Sulpicia; he knew not what a Monster was hatching in the jealous breast of Lentulus, and thinking upon nothing but the charms of Roselina, and the pleasant Intrigue he was like to be embarked in, he sacrificed to this Divinity all his designs and adorations. He found not his fair Goddess at her own Temple, and was told by her Servants, that she was go forth to take the Air in the Wood, which bordered upon: the shore. He run thither with all the speed, the Wings of his desires could carry him, that he might not lose the opportunity of Lentulus his absence. He searched all the beaten tracts, nor left he those unvisited, which were lest frequented, but could not retrieve the fair Game: He hunted back again upon the foil; and despairing at last to gain a view of it, he was ready to return to Roselinaes' Lodgings, to see whether she were to come back thither, or no; when several loud cries gave his astonished ears the alarm from the neighbouring shore. He run with a precipitate haste to the place, from whence he thought those cries were sent; where he saw a young Lady of exquisite Beauty, struggling by violence to disengage herself from a man in whose Arms she was detained an unwilling prisoner; who, having perforce gained her liberty, came running to Ovid for succour: he interposed himself immediately betwixt the Lady, and the man that pursued her, and catching him by the Arm; Whatever you are, said he to him, who offer this unmanly violence to this young Lady; you have made choice of an ill place to execute your foul designs in. This Island is inhabited by many noble Heroes, who have an entire veneration for this fair Sex; and will all sacrifice their lives at their feet, before any one of them should suffer the lest injury  
The unknown employed no other language than a profound sigh, to return an answer to Ovid's discourse, and sinking down upon the Sands, gave cause to the Roman to judge, both by the paleness of his countenance, and the tracts of blood, which in divers places distained his clothes, that he had received some dangerous wound. Whereupon Ovid changed his design from the opposing, to the relieving a person in so ill a condition. He ran towards the Sea for some Water to refresh him; when a little farther he discovered two men more, engaged in a mortal Combat, whereof one, before he could come to them, fell dead at the feet of the other. He that remained victorious, appeared so charming to the eyes of Ovid, that he considered him as something more than Mortal. He retired a pace or two backwards, and surveying him with admiration, he was going to express the wonder of his thoughts in the best of his language; but the fierce unknown would not allow him the time; and not so much as vouchsafing him a look, rudely lanced himself forth in the pursuit of the fair Fugitive. Ovid thought himself not obliged to interrupt his pious intent, to follow a Man of so little civility; wherefore he continued on his course towards the Sea; where he found a Shallop anchored on the shore, and in her a Man, who seemed to be her Pilot. Ovid asked him, if he could not furnish him out of some of his Casks with a little fresh Water, to relieve a person, who lay gasping for breath, at the entrance of the next Wood The Mariner gave him to understand by signs, that he was both deaf and dumb; but by a quick guess comprehended his demands, drew a little Bottle out of his Pocket, filled it with water, and followed him to the place, Ovid had endeavoured by signs likewise to describe to him. They both employed their utmost skill to recall the Soul back again of the breathless Youth; which was fled from its ancient Harbour; but what Ovid at first thought only to be a swooning Fit, proved in the end, a real Death.  
The Mute made a horrid kind of bellowing and confused noise at the sight of so dismal an object. Ovid pointed to the place likewise, where the other dead Man lay, and leaving him to exercise his charity about their Corpse, was resolved to gain some clearer evidence of so strange an Encounter: and pursuing the tract, he had seen the unknown Lady take, he discovered her in the great Road, which passed through the midst of the Wood; and the strange Youth, whose excellent Mien had surprised him so much before, upon his knees at her feet; who by the signs, he saw him express at a distance, seemed to be an earnest Suitor to her for her stay: But she seemed neither to be moved with his Charms, nor his Entreaties, and angrily flinging out of his Arms, kept on her way upon the Road she was in. Ovid by a cross cut gained the advantage of her speed, and overtook her, just as her weariness forced her to fit down upon the ground, to ease her delicate limbs. Forbear, sweet Stranger, said he to her, to afflict yourself in this manner; you are here in a Sanctuary of safety; and you shall found in this Island four or five Romans, who will as freely lay down their lives, if an honourable occasion shall call upon them, in your defence, as in their own; I am very much obliged to your generosity, replied the Lady, in a kind of corrupt Latin; I have no more Enemies, whose violence I fear; and though the persecution I now sustain, environs my Soul with greater horror, than that the Heavens have so lately delivered me from, yet I do not think that it will compel me to have recourse to the famous Arms of the Romans. Not, Divine Agaritha, (said the beautiful Youth following the Lady at a distance, who fled from him) you need employ no other Arms, than your inflamed eyes, to destroy the unfortunate Herennius. Ovid fixed his eyes intentively upon him, when he heard him pronounce the name of Herennius; are you, said he, the Son of Herennius, who followed Sertorius into Spain, at the time of Sylla's tyranny? Yes, Sir, replied the Youth, I am the same, you mention. Do you know Lentulus, said Ovid, who commanded the Roman Forces in the last Expedition against the Geteses? I have great reason to know the person, you name, answered Herennius, since he may challenge not the lest share in the first misfortunes of my life. You are arrived in a place, where you have more friends perhaps, than you imagine, replied Ovid; give me leave to be your Guide to a House not far distant from hence, where I shall present you with a view of some persons, whose sight, I suppose, may requited the pains you shall take in going to them. He requested the fair Stranger, to give them the favour of her company too; which she granted, Ovid lent her his hand to raise her from her humble Seat, and to conduct her likewise towards the house of Hortensius: The brave Herennius offered to take her by the other hand; but she rudely thrusting him aside, How darest thou approach me Traitor? said she; aspire no more to the honour of touching that hand, which I have given thee but too often for my repose, and thy glory. Is it possible, Agaritha, replied Herennius, that so many humble Petitions for a Pardon offered up, so many Tears shed at your feet, so many times my Life hazarded in your service, and this day especially against your most mortal Enemies, should not have the power to deface out of your thoughts, the memory of a weakness, so often expiated by an unfeigned repentance? Is it a Crime unpardonable in a person of my age, to give ear or credit to the flattering discourses of the first Princess of the Universe; which to have entertained with scorn, would certainly have been judged an unpardonable rudeness in me? I believed (though too soon) you were dead: and my submission to the Charms of a Princess, who subjugates to her Laws all Hearts, that dare approach her, cannot properly be termed an inconstancy, but, in the worst sense; a too hasty oblivion only of your Death. Go perfidious wretch, said the enraged fair One, interrupting him, excuse not thy levity in the opinion of my death; the solemn protestations of thy Love, and the memory of thy infinite misfortunes fortunes that treacherous Love has involved me in, aught to have induced thee to examine strictly each particular of a report, which aught so nearly to have concerned thee. But thou wert pleased doubt of my life, because it opposed an obstacle to thy new Amours: thou didst fear my reproaches would have alarmed thee, from which my death would have secured thee; and thou didst flatter thyself with the pleasing thoughts of that, which thy inconstancy persuaded thee to hope for. The name of the first Princess of the Universe, had raised a Contest betwixt a paleness and a blush in Ovid's Face; he thought no person had any right to that Title, but the Daughter of Augustus. He was about to ask Herennius, who that Princess was, he spoke of; but the fear of rendering his curiosity too remarkable, caused him to defer it to a fit opportunity. Whilst Ovid was framing a thousand conceits to himself in his suspicious fancy upon the Words of Herennius, and the young Lover by an ingenious confession and submission excusing his error to his incensed and irreconcilable Mistress; Hortensius received from the Mouth of Cepion the Relation of a Mystery, which after the turbulent agitation of so long a storm, brought a gentle calm to his thoughts.   

THE RELATION OF Cepion.  
YOU made a right judgement, said Cepion to Hortensius, my insensibility was nothing but a dexterous faint; but this faint had not for its object, the person, you ascribed to it. I have loved Helvidia since the first hour, my Soul was capable of an impression of love; and I got a particular friend of mine to sound the intentions of Maecenas concerning the disposal of his Niece, whose beauty began to eclipse the lustre of the resplendent Terentia, who much desired to see her cloistered up in a Convent of Vestals.  
Helvidia is not designed for Marriage, (replied Maecenas to my friend, who, without naming me, endeavoured to gain a clear intelligence of his resolves) and whosoever shall go about to inspire her with contrary sentiments, shall not at all oblige me. Your resolution surprises me, said my friend, I see all other persons, whom their Prince's favour has placed in an eminent Orb, aspire to contract themselves alliances, whilst is in its Zenith, to support their interest in the World, if it should hap to decline. My Maxims are opposite to those of ordinary Favourites, replied Maecenas, I am not ambitious to receive for the full benefit of Caesar's favour towards me, the pleasure only of flattering myself with the fancy of it: A Roman, who perhaps on terms of equality would esteem himself honoured by my alliance, will think he offers a glorious Sacrifice to my favour, in demanding my Niece of me. I will not charge my honour with so scrupulous a vanity, and that I may not tender myself suspected of an ambition or forecast, whereof my soul is uncapable, I would remove from the Court, or enclose within the grates of a vestal Cloister, all such young Ladies as shall be under my protection.  
This Declaration produced, in the heart of Helvidia, those effects in my favour, which many years' services might have despaired of meriting: It mutinyed, and thought it lawful to revolt against the tyranny which was imposed upon its liberty; and as I am naturally bold, and ambitious of enterprizing difficulties, that which rendered Helvidia propitious to my desires, made them soar a pitch likewise above the highest flight of ordinary Lovers. Yet we judged it a part of discretion, to conceal our Amour under the securest disguise we could invent for it. Mecoenas' credit commanded a great power with the Emperor, and he might have suppressed me by open force, had I attempted to justle it. We agreed, the better to delude the Argus-eyed. World, to make Love, as I may say, by cross purposes: And than I began to affect that insensibility, wherewith a long time Aurelia herself was deceived she was than a friend of Helvidia, but not her confident: And Helvidia was used to say, that the infallible way to preserve a secret from being betrayed, was always to be the Mistress of it herself: I saw her oftener at Aurelia's apartment, than Mecoenas'; and this private disguise I put upon my visits, allowed me the liberty to make them with more frequency and security. I was much indebted at that time to the generous proceed of Aurelia; she was ignorant of the cause that so often invited me to her Lodgings, and she is naturally of a sweet and affable disposition; but I perceived, that this sweetness and this affability, insensibly gave place to their opposite qualities. Helvidia perceived it, as well as I; and without seeming to take a particular notice of it, she asked her the cause. Can you ask me such a question, said Aurelia? Have you eyes, and do not see, after what manner that young Insolent treats me? He seems to have made choice of me for a Subject, to exercise all his incivilities on; he disdains to give me his hand to lead me in public; he opposes all I say, or do; and it is sufficient to cast him into a humour of contradiction, if I but open my mouth in any place, where he is. Helvidia gave me information of the complaints were framed against me; but though I could not allow them to be just, yet I began to carry myself with that respect towards Aurelia, as I was accustomed to do, when she was best satisfied with my proceed.  
You must force yourself, said Helvidia, in a circumstance of this importance, to act a part contrary to your inclination. We must make use of the house of Aurelia, for the place of our interviews: affect a complaisance to all her desires, speak all the obliging things to her, a real Amour could dictate. Oh! Madam, said I, interrupting her, you do not well consider what you command me; it so ill becomes a person of honour to act the Lover, when he is nothing lesle, that I know not how to express the disorder of my thoughts to you; and you are sensible, that the same disorder in the thoughts of another, generally derives its source from the Motions of the heart; and all reasonable creatures, have not always the reason to be the Masters of them. Helvidia laughed at my suspicions, and gave me a little check for the presumption I had of my own Merits. My Friend, said she, is too prudent to love first; and that which I interpreted a disorder in the heart, was only a point of nicety, which she conjured me to wave, and satisfy her request; I obeyed it, and endeavoured to make the will of Aurelia, the square of all my actions. I was diligent in paying all those little services to her commands, which can bear the construction of nothing but ordinary civilities towards a person, one has not a passion for; but do assume another character, when Love enters on the Theatre. I applauded all she said, I often took occasion to extol her beauty. About this time the Emperor took a progress to Tusculum, and as Terentia was always the glorious Planet, which was fixed to the motion of the Court, Helvidia was obliged to attend her. I discontinued my usual visits to Aurelia's apartment in its absence; but one evening having the honour to conduct some young Ladies, and Aurelia amongst them, to take the air on the pleasant banks of Tiber, they began to reproach me with my pretended insensibility; and this raillery was the subject of the greatest part of our conversation. I took great pleasure in acting the part of a faithful Lover, under the person of the indifferent; which seemed to be a private sacrifice offered up to the shrine of my absent Mistress; I perceived that Aurelia did often change colour, and when I presented her my hand to conduct her to her chariot, she seemed as if she had taken no notice of my civility, and so in a regardless manner refused me hers: But I judged it no policy to draw upon me the indignation of more than Aurelia, at that time, for having unadvisedly declared before, that I suspected Aurelia had had a kindness for me, I had been reviled by them, as a young Fellow puffed up with vanity and self-conceit; I durst not discover my thoughts, but endeavoured to seem satisfied, that Aurelia had not really seen me, when I offered her my hand. The Emperor returned to Rome the day after. Helvidia came to visit Aurelia, as soon as she was disengaged from Terentia; she found her in her Bed, and her voice so altered, that she judged her to be dangerously ill; which put her into such a fright, that she was scarce able to ask her, what her distemper was? The effect, said Aurelia, of the most malign influence, that ever the Heavens produced. Ask me not more, for I will rather dye, than make a larger confession of my Misfortunes. How? my Dear, replied Helvidia, can Aurelia keep any secret from Helvidia? Can you offer so unkind an injury to our friendship?  
I deal with our friendship, said Aurelia, as I wish I could deal with myself; would the Gods were pleased, that at the expense of my life, I could conceal that from myself, which I refuse to reveal to you; let it suffice, that I am the most unfortunate of Women. Helvidia could gain no other answer from her that day, but one or two after she conjured her with such vehemency to confided a secret to her, which so much perplexed her thoughts, that Aurelia suffered her obstinacy to be conquered by it. You will doubtless accuse Helvidia of some injustice, seeing with what earnestness she urged a freedom from Aurelia, which she refused to practise herself; but she had violent presumptions of the truth, and supposing them to be well grounded, they might authorise a small dissimulation. Aurelia drew some Tablets out of her Pocket, and having studied a little time to digest her conceit, she writ the Verses I shall here recite to you.  
Cepion began to repeat the same Verses, which Hortensius had found before in the Gardens of Lucullus; but Hortensius interrupting him after two or three words, I am as well acquainted with those Verses, as yourself, said he, and I think I have them still in my possession.  
You have them not, said Cepion: Oh! would it had so pleased the Gods, that you had kept them. Helvidia had a strong presumption, that I was the Ingrate, those Verses deciphered; they gave a character of my person, such as it could not merit; but the esteem, wherewith the goodness of Aurelia was pleased to honour me, did doubtless tender her too partial a Judge in my favour. She proposed a thousand questions to Aurelia, to draw from her a clear confirmation of her suspicions. Aurelia's amorous distractions had reduced her to that critical minute, (so famed amongst Lovers) wherein the high swelling tide of Passion, will not suffer the heart to keep any thing concealed within its centre. She made to her a sincere declaration of the Love she had for me, and in terms so passionate, that the heart of Helvidia was transfixed with a tender compassion of her sufferings. She gave me an account of their converse the same day, in a Garden, where she was waiting upon the Empress, as she was taking the air, when I was so happy to receive her hand; and as nothing can compare with the sweetness of her nature, it is a great trouble to me, said she, to see this poor Lady in that condition you have reduced her to: what she has told me, even pierces my very Soul; and I conjure you, by that respect you protest you have for me, to afford some relief to the afflictions she labours under. How? Madam, said I, not a little surprised and startled, at her expression, are you weary of my heart, and willing to turn it out of your service? Will you transfer to Aurelia, the title and right you have acquired over it? I have no such intention, replied Helvidia, your heart is, and ever shall be most precious to Helvidia; but if without infringing my right to that heart, you could by some small compliances flatter a little the passion of Aurelia, I assure you, you would lay a sensible obligation upon me. Ha! Madam, said I, disturbed with the thoughts of such an obligation, I have expressed already but too much of that compliance, you would now again condemn me to. If from the first Moment, I was sensible of the weakness of Aurelia, I had combated it with all my power, whilst it was young, I had doubtless suppressed it; but your commands compelled me to caress, and suffer it to gather strength; the services, your orders enjoined me to tender her, have given that encouragement to her distempered fancy, that she doubted not, as you know, to express it under her own hand. To violent diseases your Physicians are used to apply remedies of the same nature. I think, I understand Aurelia perfectly well; she has a heart susceptible of the tenderest impressions of an amorous Passion; she has courage, and firmity of resolution; and if once the first has taken a full possession of her Soul, it will be impossible to remove it; and therefore the best expedient would be, to pluck it up, and crush it, before it has taken too deep a root. Do not think upon so violent a course, said Helvidia; time will cure Aurelia's distemper, without the help of so rough a Physician. She has virtue; she understands, that from Caesar she must expect a husband; and I do not desire you, to flatter her Passion out of any doubt I have, that she will not be able to surmount it without your assistance; but because I apprehended, the visible marks of your neglect do inflame and exasperated the wound, she has unfortunately received. I would have you allow her virtue time to act according to its own dictates, and own the conquest to its self. I objected many things more to Helvidia, to make her sensible of the danger, to which her compassion exposed us, but all my remonstrances were to no effect: She carried me the next day to Aurelia, and charged me with greater apprehensions of her danger, than I had conceived before; she made a sign to me with her eye, to maintain that in my discourse, which she thought convenient to advance in hers; and when she perceived I was refractory to her commands, she testified, by the sudden alteration of her countenance, a displeasure, which had almost congealed my blood within my veins; and like a sullen cloud, totally eclipsed the usual serenity of her smiling affability even to the very day, you had that long conference with the Emperor. You may judge by what I tell you to day, that I told you no untruth than, when I assured you, that I had employed my utmost endeavours to invest you in the possession of Aurelia. I was so persecuted with the importune compassion of Helvidia, that I could have given any thing that was most dear to me in the world, besides herself, to have purchased a short truce from it. It was from the Mouth of Helvidia, that your Mistress first understood that act of generosity your expressed in her favour to the Emperor, Helvidia being than with Terentia, when Caesar reported it to her. Oh! cruel Gods! exclaimed Aurelia, in a dolorous Note (when the Niece of Mecoen●s informed her of your proceed) is it not enough to satiate the cruelty of my destiny, that I am forced to love that, I aught to hate; but that I must likewise be guilty of an inexpiable ingratitude towards that, I aught to love? Oh! cruel Hortensius, (went she on, with a torrent of tears flowing from her eyes) why art thou so unkind, to intrude such bitter resentments in amongst those insupportable afflictions, which already overcharge me? These resentments may not be unprofitable, replied Helvidia, if you would but a little consult your reason, Hortensius is a person, in whom Merit and Love contend for the nobler title; and if the generous resignation, he has made of his own desires unto yours, has on his part protected you from a husband, opposite to the inclinations of your own will, you will not be able to protect yourself long from one, whom another's will shall impose upon them. Caesar is obliged to offer a husband to the Cousin German of the great Julius, and it is not probable, that he will cast his regards upon Cepion, to honour him with that alliance. The charges and dignities, which he will annex to the possession of your person, will require a Man of more experience to support their weight and lustre, than the Ingrate, you love, is capable of. Aught not the violence, you will be forced sooner or later to impose upon your inclinations, to seem lesle cruel to you on the part of a generous person, whose adorations you have often before received at your feet, than on that of some proud morose stranger, you never saw? Go on, my Dear, said, the languishing Aurelia to Helvidia, go on, and made me understand what I own to the generosity of Hortensius: I with scorn entertained that Love, he has given me so many glorious proofs of; I forbidden him my house, and in the height of all these ill treats he has received from me, he has refused to take a just revenge of my abuses: make me sensible what care and regard he had of my honour, when I had so little for it myself. He might have discovered to the Emperor, the passion I had for his Rival; he knew it, and my carriage towards him, did not oblige him to conceal it, yet he never gave him the lest intimation of it.  
Ovid came in, as Cepion was in this part of his Relation; See, said he to Hortensius, presenting to him the two strangers, if I do not deserve the honour of being sent forth upon all expeditions for discoveries? Have you ever seen a nobler couple, than here I bring before you? Hortensius, with much impatience, desired to hear the end of Cepion's discourse, and Ovid had not obliged him, by coming to interrupt it: But as he was a person of the greatest civility in the world to strangers, and those which were presented to him being of that quality, as to attract his chiefest consideration, he received them with all the demonstrations of a courteous welcome. You observe, and doubtless not without admiration, said Ovid to Hortensius, addressing a Salute to the Brother of Roselina, that this young unknown is a Masculine Beauty in our Sex: you need but cast your eyes upon him, to confirm your remark; for the first fight of him was like to have made me turn Idolater, and offer incense to an unknown Deity. But your admiration will be greater, when I shall tell you, that it is not his person only which aught to tender him thus worthy of your consideration; you behold in him that young Herennius, the apprehension of whose ignominy, caused the fair Herennia to attempt so audacious an enterprise. Cepion presently knew Herennius to be the same, whom Ovid spoke of, he gave him a thousand caresses; and the three Romans thought it convenient to sand for Lentulus, to take his part in so fortunate an encounter. Hertensius ordered a Servant to go to him, and to inquire privately likewise, if Roselina were at home. I shall be ashamed to look that great General in the face, said Herennius to Cepion; the manner whereby I rebed him by my flight of a Prisoner, (whom the Laws of Mars had consigned into his power, and his generosity accumulated with his favours) carries with it the too just Marks of an ingratitude; which would environ me with shame and confusion, did not the cause of my offence pled its own excuse. Behold there, Sir, said he, showing him the fair stranger, behold the Motive, which summoned me from your Camp, to give my attendance in another place; my first chains discharged me of your second; and I had a Master to whose commands my liberty was engaged, before the fortune of War had captivated it to yours. I must be forced to acknowledge before this company, said the Lady, interrupting him, that thou hast a great opinion of my discretion, or a very small one of thy own, since thou dost presume with such confidence to boast of the injuries I have received from thee. Thou hopest perhaps that the presence of these persons, whom I know all to be Romans, will impose a constraint upon my just resentments, but when they know their character, as well as thou dost, they will conclude them to be too full of equity, to bear a Moderation. I will speak, I will utter all that a just despite can prompt to the Soul of a Lover unworthily betrayed; and violating the Laws of silence, as thou hast done those of honour and fidelity, I shall be more excusable, as a Graecian, in publishing to the World the shame of Caesar, than thou, as a Roman by extraction, in dishonouring the house of thy Emperor. These words were like so many fiery darts, that carried flames of jealousy and distraction into the breast of Ovid; his suspicions would indulge no quiet to his restless thoughts; I am better read in Love, than you, said he to Herennius, (who was ready to reply to the reproaches of the fair Greek;) you aught never to attempt to conquer the rigour of your Mistress by a contentious dispute, we must allow all Women in general the liberty of their smart Repartees, and to those, we love, a prerogative in that nature, above those, who are indifferent to us. Give me leave to give some instructions to the beauteous Agaritha, and do you second them by a respectful silence, which perhaps may prove a better Orator in your cause, than your tongue. In saying this, he took Agaritha's hand, and led her up to a Terrace, which afforded a pleasant prospect to the Sea, hoping by some curious questions to gain from her a discovery of the subject of her indignation; but Herennius understanding from the two Romans, that the person who had made that discourse to him, was the famous Ovid, he foliowed him up to the Terrace. You are a Judge too renowned in the case of Love-differences, said he to him, not to be feared by the guilty; and therefore I cannot give my consent, that my fair Enemy should preingage you in favour of her cause; but if you must understand what the crimes are wherewith the charges, me, and whereof in effect I am partly chargeable, I had rather make an ingenuous confession of them myself, than suffer her to aggravate them in the recital. That which you are now going to make, said Ovid, is too criminal a secret, I fear, to found a favourable Judge. Sat you down upon that stony bench, (added he, in causing him to sit) and make a sincere confession to us of all your faults, and perhaps we may prove so fortunate Advocates for you to this fair one, as to obtain your pardon; and your story will be the most agreeable diversion, we can pass the time with, till the arrival of those persons, whose company we have sent to beg, to honour yours. Herennius would not give them the trouble of an important entreaty, and Hortensius thinking that his Relation would be soon interrupted by the coming of Lentulus, was satisfied to defer the sequel of Cepion's till a little longer time; the company being all placed upon the Terrace, the charming Herennius began his discourse in this manner.   

THE HISTORY OF Herennius and Agaritha.  
THis illustrious Lady, said he, pointing to Agaritha, has honoured the Isle of Lesbos with her birth, and is descended in a direct masculine Line from the first Princes of Greece. I learned my exercises in the Capitol City of this Island, where the Father of Agaritha made his ordinary residence. I saw Agaritha, and as it is scarce possible to see her, and not love her, my youthful heart without resistance yielded up its liberty to the first of her regards. The Nobility of her descent borrows no support from the favours of Fortune, which has endowed it but with small possessions, and this did facilitate the Suit I made to her Parents for their consent. Our Marriage was concluded, and my felicity was not longer to be deferred, than to the happy Minute, I should be able to make good what I had proposed. I took one of Agaritha's chief Relations along with me to the Frontiers of the Geteses, where the scattered relics of all that small wealth, the Misfortunes of our House had left me, was deposited. I fell sick in this journey, but as I had proposed nothing, but what truth could attest for me, the Parents of Agaritha thought her so well bestowed upon me, that they employed all imaginable diligence to hasten the consummation of my felicity. The weakness my sickness had left upon me, would not permit me to return to Lesbos, as soon as the impatience of my love desired; whereupon the Graecian, I had in my company, seeing the will of the Gods themselves, had dispensed with my duty in so fatal an occasion, conjured by my ardent entreaties, engaged his faith to me, to reinstate me in the possession of my Mistress: she had been solemnly betrothed to me before; and I on my part renewed to him all the most sacred assurances, I was in that circumstance capable to make. Upon this intelligence, my Mistress did me the honour to leave Lesbos, to come to the place where the Malice of my distemper forced me to attend her. Her short Sea-Voyage was fortunate; I advanced, as well as I was able to meet her, and hoped in a few days to join her; when I understood that a Party of the Roman Army had surprised her, and carried her away Prisoner amongst many others, on whom they impose the infamous title of Slaves. I leave you to judge, what a relapse this news reduced me to. I sent to the Captain of the Slaves, to petition him that Agaritha might be exposed to ransom, and I would have redeemed her at the expense of all that Fortune had left me in the world. But my Mistress was a treasure above a ransom; she was designed for the Emperor, and a Convoy was ready to conduct her to Rome. This barbarous inhumanity heightened my former distemper to a perfect frenzy. I put myself in the head of some revolted Geteses, and forgetting I was of Roman blood, I achieved such honour against the Army, Lentulus commanded, that I rendered the name of Roselin, (which I assumed, and was the name of my Uncle by my Mother's side, I both famous, and redoubted to the Romans. Love and Revenge inspiring me with courage, I outbraved temerity itself. I attempted to set the Prisoners at liberty, they were hurrying away to Rome; in which audacious enterprise, I was taken myself, and designed for one of those memorable Examples by which Lentulus hoped to conquer the obstinacy of the rebellious Geteses. You have heard by what means I was delivered from that danger; and how Lentulus, who is really endued with a brave Soul, vigorously embraced that opportunity, to reduce those Opiniatres by the principles of a generous Magnanimity. He restored to me the name of my Ancestors, to extinguish that of a Gladiator out of my thoughts, which I was ready to be branded with. He offered me Employs in his Army; and if I had been only a Rebel, I might have been the inseparable companion of his fortune and glory; but I was a Lover, and resolved to sacrifice a thousand Lives, had I been Master of them, or free Agarithas from the ignominious chains of her slavery. I durst not impart my design to Lentulus, who pretended a great respect for my sister; and I was afraid, that the kindness he expressed to me, would have caused him to have opposed a bar against my dangerous resolutions. Whereupon I privately deluded the obliging care, Lentulus had of me, and stealing in disguise out of his Camp, sometimes committing my flight to Sea, sometimes to Land, according to the best conveniences I could meet with for speedy travel, I at length arrived at the Suburbs of Rome, and had by my diligence prevented the slow Motions of the Slaves, who were not yet come; nor suffered to take long Journeys, for fear of impairing their Beauty, and Complexions, by the laborious toils of his disorderly Travel. The name of Herennius was not yet defaced out of the memory of true Romans, and I had Relations in Italy, who I hoped, would not disown their own Blood; I besides reposed great confidence in the favour of Lentulus, if I should have occasion to make use of it; and above all, I assured myself of the Justice and Equity of Caesar. I entertained myself with these pleasing fancies all the way betwixt Tusculum and Rome, which was the Road, by which the Slaves were to make their triumphal Entry into the City; when I discovered coming forth of the Suburbs thereof a rich and magnificent Chariot, with a proud Guard attending it: I stopped to take a view of it, when a glorious young Lady, who was seated in it, putting her Head by accident out of the door, on the side that I was of, happened to cast her eye upon me from whence she did not remove it in a good space; and than expressing a gesture of admiration, I assure you, said she to another Lady, who was with her, that this is the original of my excellent Peice, I value so much. At these words she commanded, the Chariot to stop, and making me a Sign to come to her, asked me who I was. I am a Roman, Madam, said I, though fortune has made me and my Country long Strangers to each other. What profession are you of? replied she. I aught to profess the Honour of a Roman Knight, said I, but through some misfortunes, the recital whereof would require too long an Audience; my profession at present is that of a Knight really Errand, who fears he shall never arrive to a happy end of his Adventures.  
A Cavalier, who seemed to have the conduct of the party that convoyed her, approached the Chariot with a low and respectful bow, and humbly entreated the Lady who spoke to me, to consider, that he should incur the Emperor's displeasure, if he did not conduct her to Tusculum in good time; whereupon, with an obliging bow of her head, taking as it were her leave of me, she commanded her Coachman to drive on. I went to some Slaves, who run by the Chariot side, to inform myself who the Lady was, that had discoursed with me. Who is she? answered they, with looks expressing an admiration of my ignorance; Do you not know the Emperor's Daughter? you have all seen the Princess Julia; you know what dazzling Rays she darts from her eyes into those of all such as behold her; the complaisant sweetness of her carriage, and the mellifluous Charms which with her Words flow from her Lips. What concern, said I to myself, can the Daughter of Caesar, have with thee, a Passenger, whom she accidentally meets upon a common Road? Why should she make a stop to talk to thee? Why should she ask what Country or Profession thou wert of? It was not Julia certainly, thou didst see, it was a Vision without doubt; and what thou didst take to be a real Encounter, was nothing but a deluding Dream. I understood by mine Host where I lodged, that the Emperor had commanded the Princess his Daughter to retire to Tusculum upon a difference, which she had had with the Prince Marcellus, whom both himself and the whole Empire designed for her Husband. And a few days after I was informed by common report, that the same Prince had cast himself at Augustus his Feet, to obtain a repeal of those Commands; and that the same day the Princess was to return to the Court. I had a desire to see her make her entry, and out of an itch of vanity, or more properly infidelity, which I have a thousand times since accused with an unfeigned grief and repentance, I took care to appear more splendid and conspicuous than ordinary. As she alighted out of her Chariot, the Prince Marcellus gave her his hand, to conduct her to her Chamber. I pressed amongst others to see her; she again took notice of me, and made the like Sign to me, as she had done before, upon the Road to Tusculum.  
This excess of Civility in the first Princess of the Universe, and towards a person of no Consideration, nor Note, struck me with an admiration, I am not capable to express. I insinuated myself into the acquaintance of one of her Attendants, who was a Kinsman of mine Host, and he promised me to admit me to to the sight of the Princess, at the next convenient opportunity: and one day, when she was walking by the River Tiber, with no other Company than her Maids of Honour, he came and advertised me of it. I hastened thither with speed, and used all my endeavours to tender myself remarkable to her; which was not difficult to be effected. Julia, as you know, has an action very airy and free, and her eyes, like Harbingers to her Greatness, take up all places where she is, for their entertainment: They had soon found me, and their Princess asked me, if I were not the person, whom she had seen upon the way, as she was going to Tusculum. Yes, Madam, said I, I am the same, who charmed with your Bounties All-divine, would willingly sacrifice my despicable life to the just acknowledgements, my meanness shall always be obliged to pay to them. Preserve your life for some worthier occasion, replied the Princess, smiling upon me, I am no lover of bloody Sacrifices, and it would be a great loss to the World, that a person of your Mien and Composure, should be snatched out of it in the flower of his Youth. She seemed to be sensibly touched with all the passionate passages of my Relation, and interrupting me, as I was repeating that of my Sisters bold Enterprise; I cannot applaud, said she, this Masculine Bravery in Women; it is so just a Propriety of the other Sex, that methinks, it is always an unnatural usurpation in ours, what pretence soever you colour it with. But, I cannot deny, but the action of Herennia has I know not what of heroic in it, which infinitely pleases me; and I will serve you for your Sister's sake. Come see me to morrow, added she, seeing the Prince Marcellus at a distance, who was coming to wait upon her. I solemnly protest, and too often have I made this solemn protestation to the jealous and revengeful Agaritha, that the supernatural Graces of that Princess, did with their lustre, dazzle and charm all the faculties of my Soul. But I call the Divinity of Love to witness, who is, and ever was, my most adored Deity, that all the time I mention, I never had any other regard for this Princess, but as I hoped by her favour to arrive at a means to obtain the liberty of Agaritha; but I oon had cause to believe, that the Heavens envied me the pleasure I took in the thoughts of that hopeful design; for I was told at the Slave-Office, which I visited every hour of the day and night, that those which were expected from the Getish Camp, were Shipwrackt; and that so inconsiderable a number of them had escaped, that it was not thought worth the trouble of sending them to Rome. I asked with symtoms of a deathful despair in my countenance, whether a beautiful Graecian, named Agaritha, were in the Catalogue of the living, of the dead. The names are not yet known of the ●ne, nor the other, replied a person, who belonged to the Office; but if that Agaritha, you mention, be handsome, as you say, she is certainly perished. I thought this dismal News would have put a period to my life; the conformation whereof a day or two after, had almost induced me to employ my Sword to effect what my grief was too slow in executing. This fatal accident had totally raised the character of Juliaes' Charms out of my memory; I had no other thoughts than of restoring to my Sister an unfortunate Brother, who was now the sole support and Guardian of her Orphan Beauty, and I left my melancholy quarters to seek a convenience for my journey, when passing through the Piazza, which is before the Pantheon, I saw the Princess, who was than come out of that Temple, walking under some Trees, which in pleasant Walks, are ranged before it. She discovered me almost, as soon as I had her; and commanding her Servants to call me unto her; What is the reason, said she, you did not come to me, as I ordered you? Alas, Madam, answered I, with tears ready to start out of my eyes, I have no more need of the protection, you did me the honour to promise' me; Agaritha, for whom alone I thought to have taken the presumption to have begged it, is no longer in the World. Is it possible, replied the Princess, that any body should be so much concerned for the death of a person, they defigned for a Wife? You have not had time to practice with Agaritha one of those Intriqus, which gives Love that firmity of settlement in the Soul of Lovers; you demanded her in Marriage upon the very first motions of your Love; and obtained her upon the first of your demands, did you not, of her Parents? Yes, Madam, said I, interrupting her, with more transport than respect; but the injurious Heaven forbidden the Banes of my felicity. That's nothing, said the Princess, you have not had sufficient proof, or knowledge of her, to desire her possession with that vehemency and ardour, you pretend; Do not leave Rome, for Heaven seemed to charge me with your protection and conduct, when it offered you to my view upon the Road to Tusculum; we want not fair Ladies here, to whom you may devote yourself, without the consent or displeasure of Hymen. But, Madam, said I, if I may dare to presume to be of an opinion repugnant to yours, I should affirm, that you impose upon me the most rigorous Law, that Man is capable of being bound to: For can a Lover be confined to a destiny more severe, than an irrefragable despair, of ever possessing his Mistress? You are dull of apprehension, said Julia, I wish you nothing lesle, than a rigorous destiny; stay in Rome, I tell you; and if you please, you may add yourself to the number of divers young Gentlemen, who without the stipend of a mercenary Service, are entertained in my Family. I embraced the offer, she made me, with all the ●…arks of an humble joy and respect; and the chiefest employ of those places, was to exhibit an obsequious diligence and assidnity towards her person. The first day that I was to give my attendance, I was struck with wonder to found in the Princess' Closet the Portraiture of a Cupid, which I had procured to be drawn by an exquisite hand at Lesbos, and delivered to my Mistresses. She observed my admiration; you know this Piece, I see, said she to me; and I believed the first moment I saw you, that you could not be a Stranger to it. I know it most assuredly, Madam, said I, but cannot imagine how it should come to the honour of being in the place, where I see it. If the person that placed it here, said a Lady, interrupting our discourse (whom the Princess had a particular respect for, and I knew afterwards to be Sulpicia) had imagined it would have produced the effects it has done, would have been better advised, than to have brought it hither. These words died the Princess Cheeks with a scarlet blush, and casting an angry look upon her, Must you always be talking of that Man? said she to her; are you not satisfied, that he has occasioned a quarrel already? But you will have him as well present as absent, created a new one betwixt us. Ha! my dear Princess, replied Sulpicia, in a rallying tone, if that which I say to day, attracts your displeasure upon me, it must be for some cause far different from that, which would have attracted it some days ago. Who can forbear, went she on smiling, to smile a little sometimes at the pleasant manner, whereby we see Love play with the Policy of Lovers? This person of so eminent experience makes you a present of a Picture of Love, to the end, says he, that the representation of the God of Love, should preserve in your thoughts the memory of the Lover: And for this cause he conjures you to cast your eyes often upon the Picture; and because you have too often complied with his desires, you how grow quarrelsome with me. You will never leave this idle raillery, said Julia, clapping her hand before Sulpiciaes' Mouth; let us talk not more neither of the effects it has produced, nor the party that gave it us.  
The Relation of Herennius was here interrupted by one of Ovid's Slaves, who came running up the Terrace with a more than ordinary speed. Oh! ye good and mighty gods, cried he out, I give you thanks, that the News is not true— Of what News talk you? said Ovid; and what makes you interrupt us in this rude manner? Sir, replied the Slave, pardon me, for I am yet quite besides myself. I went along close by the Seashore, to see if I could discover any Marks of a Combat, which I was told, had been newly fought there; where I found Tisienus, who, methoughts had something of dismal and horrid in his countenance; he knew me to belong to you. Go boy, said he, and bury thy Master's body, who has now received the just r ward of all his Crimes. I was not able for a while to stir any limb I had, at the apprehension of these mournful words, and seeing Tisienus make hastily away from me, after he had spoke them, I endeavoured to follow him, to gain a clearer understanding of them; but he went so fast, and my surprise had so disarmed my legs of their strength, that I could not possibly overtake him. Fortune guided me hither, where, thanks to Heaven, I found, that Tisienus has only made a trial of my love to my Master. Hortensius and Ovid looked one upon another at this Relation of the Slave; which included more than one Mystery, but they could not on a sudden penetrate into the consequence; for one of Hortensius his Servants came all in a fright, to tell him, that Lentulus was newly murdered in one of the Walks of the Wilderness, and carried home to his house. Cepion ran thither, and the rest of the Company followed him; where they found Herennia, Adiamante, and Junia, at the foot of the Stairs. The young Herennius knew his Sister by the light of the Torches, which displayed a glorious day over all the house; he was agreeably surprised at so much a desired, but little expected Encounter. He ran to her with open Arms, and encircling her in his tender embraces: Herennia, said he, my dear Sister, have I found you in this barbarous Island! Herennia was startled at the action of her Brother, but coming to know him, and the name of Sister, which he pronounced, confirming the report of her eyes, Ah! Herennius! Oh! my dear Brother, said she, bedewing his Cheeks with her overflowing Tears, in what a deplorable condition do you found me? Her redoubled fighs would not suffer her to utter a word more. They all went up together to the Chamber of the wounded Lentulus. He had than fortunately with him a very skilful Surgeon, whom he had brought from the Getish Camp: This man with such good success employed his Art, that in a short time he reduced him out of an (almost) mortal swound, into which his great loss of blood had cast him. He searched a deep wound, which he had a little above his Heart, and was judged by him to have been given with a Poniard, Herennia assisted his labour with a sorrowful diligence, which reduced her to a weakness almost equal, to that, of the expiring Lentulus; and thinking that in the countenance of the Surgeon, she had discovered the wound to be mortal, she gave a loud shriek, and was dropping in a swound into the Arms of Adiamante. Lentulus' turned his languishing eyes towards the place, from whence the cry was sent; and seeing Herennia ready to drown her labouring Soul in a torrent of her own tears; It is not to me, Madam, said he, with a feeble Voice, that you sacrifice those precious tears, but to the despite of having been disappointed of a more precious assignation. Herennia redoubled her cries at this reproach of her Lover, and turning herself towards Junia, see, said she, at how dear a rate I purchase your friendship. When I understood by the return of my Slave, that the Ticket, I writ to Ovid, came to Lentulus his hand, I apprehended some dismal effect of our folly. I sought after Lentulus all day, to free him from the disquiet, I feared that Billet would beget in him: But alas! I could not found him, till his fury had forestalled my designed prevention. But tell me, cruel one, said she, casting a tender regard upon her wounded Lover, tell me, has the character of my Love left no impression in thy Heart, able to balance this weak shadow of an infidelity? What have I done? What have I said, since the first moment thou hast known me, that should induce thee to believe, that it is so easy for my heart to turn Traitor, and abjure its first principles? Ovid, who as soon as he heard himself named, had advanced towards them, to inform himself on what occasion his name was introduced into the Scene, addressed his Suit to the disconsolate Herennia; but she turning her head away on the other side, and thrusting him from her with her hand, retire out of my sight, I beseech you, Ovid, said she; your presence does exasperated my afflictions; ask Junia an account of what you desire to know.  
Lentulus' Surgeon finding that these discourses disturbed that repose, which was necessary for him, desir d those, that were engaged in them, to defer them to a more seasonable opportunity. All on a sudden were silent, and withdrew into another Chamber, where they resolved to spend the night, being unwilling to remove farther from the brave Lentulus in the condition they saw him.   
The end of the Second Part.   

THE ILLUSTRIOUS EXILES. The Third Part.  

IT was not only in Thalassia, where the famous Ovid had an influence over all the great Concurrents, which ennobled that before inhospitable Climate; but the Court of Augustus itself was governed by his Genius, and though an Exile, as he was, and like a Planet shot from his glorious Orb, there were few actions of importance exhibited upon that grand Theatre, wherein Fortune did not assign him one of the principal Parts.  
The Emperor had for some days so totally dedicated his disquiet thoughts to his resentments against his Daughter Julia, that he had not time to make any serious reflection upon the Combat of Crassus and Ovid. He regarded it at first, as the effect only of some private quarrel; but a more intense consideration afterwards representing to his memory the hour and place of that nocturnal Encounter, persuaded him, that nothing but Love could have so ill contrived the circumstances thereof.  
These thoughts possessed him with a furious indignation; for he imagined, that if Love obliged them both to draw their Swords, both were equally guilty of an audacious presumption, in making love to the Daughter of their Emperor: And not being able to digest the affront, a Subject should put upon him, in daring to cross a design, he had formed in favour of Marcellus: he gave command that Crassus should be secured, and all his Papers and Write seized, and brought to him: They gave him no information of what he thought to have found in them; but they discovered some other things of an equal concernment to his repose.  
Among a great many Papers of Love-verses, which Crassus had dedicated to Terentia, he found some fragments of a Letter, wherein he read the following Lines. Employ all your possible endeavours to cure your friend of his Passion; The Heart of Terentia is fixed upon an object, from which no power is able to remove it. I dare not commit his name, to the hazard of Paper; but let it satisfy you, that though I do not declare him to be the party you suspect, it is one than whom the Earth cannot present a worthier to her affection.  
The Emperor was highly inflamed at the sight of these Lines; he could not apply to himself the expression of a Lover, or worthy to be beloved: for his Passion for Terentia was now no Secret; and it could not be said of him, that he was not one of those Lovers, which might be suspected.  
He went musing, and biting the Lip into one of the Gardens of his Palace, whither he commanded Agrippa to follow him; and after some moments of a silence, which seemed to bespeak an awful attention, Did you never love any thing, Agrippa, said he; and is the indifference, you profess towards Women, as sincere, as you pretend? Agrippa blushed, and willing to divert the discourse, The care of the Universe, Sir, said he, employs your great thoughts too much, to leave a place there to entertain such a curiosity: Judea and Capadocia petition you for Kings; Armenia is dissatisfied with theirs; and we are informed by the Parthian Ambassadors— Let us refer the Affairs of the Empire to another season, replied Caesar, interrupting him, Terentia has betrayed me. Some young fellow or other, who brings no other Charms with him, than the variety of a new Lover, has made this ingrateful One forget what she owes to the Master of the World; which corrodes my Heart with mortal resentments; and it is a second trouble to me to be destitute of a person, to whom I may communicate them; and I could wish to found in Agrippa a Soul so sensible of the Passion, his Emperor labours under, that he might judge him worthy of that confidence, he is willing to repose in him I hope, Sir, replied Agrippa, that it is not so absolutely necessary for Agrippa to be versed in all the Mysteries of Love, that without those Maxims his Emperor cannot judge him worthy of any confidence: But, Great Sir, grant me your permission to tell you, that you do an injustice to the Wife of Maecenas; that she never loved any person but Caesar; and that all appearances opposite to her fidelity, are either Chimeras, or Forgeries. Read this, said the Emperor, giving Agrippa the Paper, which had so much embroiled his thoughts; and when you have perused it, tell me, if I have done Terentia an injury in suspecting her fidelity.  
The sight of it put Agrippa to the blush the second time, who standing a while, as if he had been in suspense what to answer; but at last assuming courage, I am entering perhaps into a way, Sir, said he, to hazard the total ruin of that credit, you are pleased to honour me with: for the Hearts of Sovereign's, are places so tender and delicate, that he that presumes to touch them, incurs an eminent danger of his own head; but Agrippa will rather renounce his life, than behold his Emperor involved in a perplexity, which in a few syllables he is able to dissipate; I must therefore beg your pardon, Sir, a second time, to tell you, that you unjustly suspect the loyalty of Terentia. And that you may not doubt the reality of what I aver, I am the person whom this Paper advises to cure himself of his Passion. You the person? said the Emperor. Yes, Sir, replied Agrippa, I am the same person; And perhaps this temerity may pled before your Greatness, its justification in a moment's discourse, if you shall be pleased not to disdain it an Audience; Which was of too sensible a concern to Caesar to be deferred. Wherhfore entering into a Grot that was near him, he signified to Agrippa, that he could not too soon dissipate the sullen Cloud, which hung over him; when Agrippa began his discourse in this manner.   

THE HISTORY OF Agrippa.  
I Shall not, Sir, justify before you my Passion for the Wife of Maecenas: he is my friend; he merits the particular esteem of all whom he honours with his friendship; and though nothing could tender him worthy of it, but the favour, wherewith you dignify him, that alone aught to attract to him the respect and veneration of the whole Empire: But, Sir, you are sensible yourself of the Charms of Terentia, you are not ignorant of the effects they produce, and how much a Miracle it would be not to forget in her presence all considerations that aught to balance the power of her Beauty.  
Ovid first caused my Soul to take a particular cognisance of that, which it had always endeavoured to conceal from itself. We were one evening walkking by the Tiber side, where Ovid produced a new Work of his composure, and was reading it to me; when Terentia, who with divers other Ladies, had made choice likewise of her Walk on the same side, past by us.  
Oh! that divine Creature, said Ovid, transfixed as it were with admiration, those enchanting eyes, that sweet air, those tempting lips, that charming countenance, in fine, that perfect contexture, and epitome of all Beauty. You pay but half a Sacrifice to that Divinity, said I, interrupting him, you aught to have spoken of the vivacity of her Wit, that ingenious and pleasant raillery, wherewith she seasons the most serious Affairs; that elegance of Speech, and that Eloquence, which without study, and sometimes her own knowledge, flows from her lips, with that natural grace, that our greatest Orators may gather from them the chiefest Flowers, which embellish their Art It is very pleasant methinks, said Ovid, smiling in my face, to see you add so glorious a varnish to the first draught of my rude Pencil; and I have believed a long time, that a person of the temper of Agrippa, could not every day converse with the Wife of Maecenas, and not resign to her Charms the greatest part of his liberty. You let your suspicions fly too far at random, said I, I am so sensible that Terentia is the Wife of Maecenas, that I dare not be sensible of any Charm in her, inconsistent with that quality. The same reason, replied Ovid, which you oppose to your love of Terentia, would be the chiefest motive to induce me to attempt it. Maecenas is a person worthy of Love, he married Terentia for Love, and he is most passionately enamoured of her; And these, upon a just balance, are the true dispositions, which a Man of Merit aught to desire in a Mistress; and methinks a temptation should invade the sacred Augustus himself, whose Soul is so susceptible of the impressions of Love, to experience the pleasures of unthroning a Subject of Maecenas his Merit. Let us speak of Caesar, said I, interrupting his bold discourse, but with that veneration we speak of the Gods, without all profane applications. The inclinations we remark in him, agreed so well with the characters of an heroic virtue, that we aught to reverence them in him, as some of its noblest Properties; but that which oftentimes in a Subject may pass for a blameless action, in a Prince assumes another Character; and for the former to contain himself within the bounds of security, he aught not to suffer his Tongue to touch any action of his Sovereign, which it may profane by an irreverence of expression.  
Ovid had too much apprehension to prosecute a discourse any farther, which I had given such a check to; and so for a while, we diverted it to another subject, and ended our conversation for that day; but my thoughts remained so full of those Ideas, his discourse had imprinted in them, that it was impossible for me to banish them from thence. The great Merit of Maecenas, which had served till than for a Bridle to kerb the exorbitancy of my desires, did now begin to spur them on, and indulge them a lose Rhine. I with impatience expected the hour, wherein I might see Terentia, and having by chance surprised her, as she was bestowing some Caresses upon her Husband, who left her, and was going forth, to wait upon your Majesty; I grew so jealous, that I could not forbear to begin a quarrel with her upon it.  
You do not consider, with what you reproach me, said she, smiling upon me; A Woman is so unfortunate, when she is forced to sergeant a Love, she is not really sensible of; that for her own interest, she aught to strain all the powers of her Soul, to engraft that real sensibility in it. Why sergeant Love, Madam, said I, wise Ladies exempt themselves from that trouble, and confine the duty they own their husbands, within the bounds of an honourable complaisance. A complaisance! said Terentia, what than without Love, and out of the sole compliment of a pure complaisance, must a Woman tranfact all the precious Minutes of her Life with a Man, receive his Caresses, and— Not, not, Agrippa, these thoughts diffuse horror through all my veins; a Woman must either have a Love for her husband, or resolve to sacrifice the whole content of her life, to the tortures of a racking despair and inquietude. These two extremes, Madam, said I, may have a medium; a Wife places an esteem upon that, in a husband, which may really challenge her esteem: she may allow him a Love too, if you will, such as we attribute to the Merits of a faithful Friend: But as that kind of friendship does generally leave a vacuum in the heart, she may make choice of a discreet and prudent Lover to fill it up, who balancing all concerns betwixt her and her husband, may convert that ceremonious complaisance, you made so ingenious an observation upon, into another species; and though different from Love, yet bearing as near a resemblance to it, as it acts without constraint, or repugnance. Madam, I speak of the heart only, said I, seeing Terentia in some concern; and when one assigns that for the limit of his conceptions, he may without temerity allow them a large Field to expatiate in.  
The arrival of some Ladies interrupted our farther converse, but Terentia gave me to understand two days after in the Princess Julia's apartment; that she had revolved the effects of it in her curious thoughts. Some People were pleased to think well of the endeavours I employed for the reinstating the Princess Scribonia in the good grace of the Empress. I told them, they deserved as little praise, as they had cost me trouble. A little counsel, which the Princess did me the honour to believe, was faithful and sincere, had accomplished that great work. Your counsels, said Terentia, are of great force, and Heaven seems to entail success upon them. That same Heaven, Madam, I fear, replied I, fixing an intentive regard upon her, would check my vanity, should I presume to entail a belief upon your curious remarks. For is it possible, that my counsels are capable of the effects, you attribute to them? I know not, replied Terentia, if in all other things besides, your endeavours may be so happy, as they have been in reconciling the Empress to Scribonia; but be it fortune, or design, I know by my own experience, that your counsels imprint a deep character in some hearts, that give ear to them.  
Who would not have believed, Sir, that these words were designed to encourage my hopes? I retired myself, to digest them at liberty, into the Gardens of Lucullus, where I found Ovid, who asked me, if I had not encountered some Ladies in my walk. I had not seen any; and instead of an answer, I asked him the reason of his question; The reason is, said he, because I have just now found a Letter in the Cittron-Grove, which some Lady or other has dropped; and in saying so he gave it me, where I read the following Lines: The more I combat my Enemy, the more I despair of Victory, my dear Tullia; The reflections, which aught to infuse courage into my Soul, disarm it of all resolution; and if the arrival of some Ladies had not interrupted the converse, which I had yesterday with Agrippa, I bade revealed to him all the secrets of my heart. I must abandon it to its own inclination, which proposes nothing to me but a glorious fall; but yet I hope to preserve myself so secure from the danger of the real Precipice, that I shall need to fear no other reproaches, than those which my virtue or loyalty shall raise against me; And if those should be seconded at last by a just remorse, could that give me more distraction or trouble, than the resistance I have hitherto made with so much glory and fidelity?  
Judge, Sir, I beseech you, what the imaginations were, that invaded my thoughts, at the sight of this Paper. I had oftentimes seen Terentia's writing, and I believed it was her character. Are you, said Ovid, who perceived a disturbance in my countenance, the Party, who sustain the attacks of the combat, this Letter mentions? Or had it already succeeded to your glory? I know not, my dear Ovid, replied I; but the Party, who writ it, is the only Person in the Universe, I ever loved, or ever shall love. I do not ask you, who that Person is, said Ovid with a smile, for I know you will name her to me without my importunity, and not deprive a friend of so slight a satisfaction. I am endued with all the qualifications, requisite in a real Confident; I am inur'd to all the most delicate intriqus of Love; I participate in the sufferings of Lovers, and my brains are luxuriant in invention. Why do you therefore scruple to acquaint me with the secret? I know not how to set an estimate upon myself, and I expect you should make it your request to me, to lend my attention to the curiosity you have to impart to me.  
It is hard for a Lover, Sir, to wave the occasion of discoursing of his Love: I discovered to Ovid all the Cabinet-counsels of my heart. Your condition is more happy, said he, than you apprehended it to be; Tullia entertains some good will for me; and since it appears by this Letter, she is a Confident of Terentia's, I dare promise' you an assurance of a faithful intelligence. Let us first said I, in order to the intelligence you mention, endeavour to discover who that fortunate Lover may be, in whose favour Terentia declares herself.  
Ovid would persuade me, it was myself; but I durst not flatter my hopes with so erroneous a presumption. We recalled to our thoughts each individual, person, that seemed to affect a diligence or devotion to the service of Maecenas; and not being able to fix our judgements upon any one in particular, I referred the resolution of our incertitude to the reports of Tullia. I conjured Ovid to give her a visit the same day, and went myself to give order for the Just, which about that time I caused to be solemnised in memory of your Victories over the bloody Assassins' of the great Julius.  
The Victor was to receive the prize of the Course from the fair hand of Terentia, by the order of Maecenas, by whom all occasions of signalizing your glory, were not lesle ambitioned, than by myself: Never did his divine spoil charm the eyes of Rome with so dazzling a lustre. Diverse Kings, and Sons of Kings, who assisted at that Triumph, cried out aloud, That the sole wonder of Rome, was the glorious Wife of Maecenas. I had the honour to reconduct her back to her Apartment, charged with all the Transports of Love and Lovers Raptures, and at my coming forth, I met Ovid. Methought he endeavoured to avoid me, and seemed troubled at my encounter. How now? Ovid, what means this strangeness, said I, presenting myself to him. Have you any bad news, of which you fear to be the Author? Neither good, nor bad, answered he, but only that Tullia and myself have had a small quarrel; and I cannot wheedle the secret out of her, wherein you are concerned. You have begun this quarrel very unseasonably, said I; And if you had had any respect for me, you would have managed a Person with more prudence, on whose interest, you know, mine have so necessary a dependence. I must confess, I am in a fault, replied Ovid, and that was the reason, I was desirous to eat you; but you now begin to have a sensible apprehension of Love, I have a most passionate one for the daughter of Cicero, and I suspect her to be guilty of a treachery towards me; and you cannot be so voided of judgement yourself, as not to comprehend, that such a suspicion is able to deprive me of it.  
I was forced to take this excuse for full payment, and content myself with casting some reproaches upon my destiny. But the next day after the Empress gave a Ball, which was treated with a Noble Collation; where I perceived that Ovid was not upon such ill terms with Tullia, as he had persuaded me. I discovered them making Love to each other by private signs; Tullia passing by him, gave him a secret pinch on the arm; which Ovid observing I had taken notice of, took notice himself of the stolen favour; but in a Moment after, his subtlety gave place to his Love; for when Tullia came to take him out to dance, he could not forbear, by a passionate gesture, to return her thanks for the honour of that obliging expression of her kindness towards him.  
I could refrain not longer, than at the end of the Assembly, to exhibit unto him, the Indictment I had drawn up in my distracted thoughts, against his treason. I did not importune you for your assistance, said I to Ovid; it was you yourself, who without my solicitation, made a voluntary offer of it to me. If you had had any private reason to repent yourself of so generous an action, you might with the same freedom have repealed it, and I would have returned it back again to you, and not imposed upon you a necessity, of offering me so unworthy an abuse; but I fathom the Mystery. You have taken yourself the advice, you not long since so frankly gave me, to love Terentia; Her charms have made a conquest of your heart, and for that reason alone you have thought fit to make a friend of my integrity, the subject of your Perfidy. You do me a great deal of honour, replied Ovid, with a flattering kind of smile, to regard me with an eye of jealousy; but yet as great as it is, it cannot seduce my vanity, I am in despair of ever meriting it; and for no other cause did I pretend a quarrel with Tullia, than that I might not be the Herald of such unwelcome News, as I assured myself that would be, which should denounce to you an Emperor for your Rival. An Emperor? cried I, starting back. Yes, said Ovid, an Emperor; Augustus' greatness is enthroned in the centre of Terentia's heart; and you have not a Man for your Rival, who would sacrifice his life at your feet, rather than dispute that glory with you. But, Ovid, said I, has Augustus ever expressed any inclinations for the Wife of Maecenas? All Rome is informed, he has fixed them in another place. The Emperor, replied Ovid, owes only to his own Merit the Passion, he has given birth to; which he has neither improved, nor cultivated yet by any particular address; nay, he is wholly ignorant of its effects, and it is believed that Terentia herself would more than half die with confusion, did she suspect, he were the least sensible of them. See here what Tullia writ to me the same day, you sent me to employ her to gain the secret from Terentia. The Letter, which I found in the Gardens of Lucullus, and you read, was lost by Cicero's daughter; and since this other, which you may here peruse, I have had some converse with her, who gave me a full account of all I have here represented to you; having said this, he produced a Letter, of which the fragment that fell into your hands, Sir, was a part.  
You great Gods! What do you tell me? said Caesar, Can I believe you? And can it be possible, that I made myself the object of my own jealousy? You may judge, Sir, replied Agrippa, by the sequel of what I have to say, of the truth of my report. I could not acquiesce in the sole testimony of Tullia; and as I endeavoured to purchase a clearer evidence of my Misfortune, I am able to tender your greatness a clearer assurance of your felicity.  
Revolve in your Royal imagination, I beseech you, Sir, the deplorable condition, the discourse of Ovid reduced me to: I considered you as my Master, and glorious Patron, but still as an envied Rival in my Mistress' favour: And as under one of these forms you might with Justice command me to revoke my presumptuous Love; under the other you banished out of my thoughts the Memory of all respect and obligations I owed you, I darted a thousand reproaches, a thousand imprecations at my Stars, ten thousand Murmurs against Heaven for having formed you so amiable: I do not fear to declare these extravagances to you, since I have now surmounted them; and the more violent my transports were, the duty which triumphed over them, will, I hope, merit a more favourable censure in your August thoughts.  
Ovid would not leave me all that night; and though he were most sensibly touched with my afflictions, yet he did combat them with such discourses, that it might be wished for the delight of Rome, that he had still conserved a due Respect and Memory of them. What do you think, said he, to oppose against the Merit of your Emperor the coldness, which he yet entertains for the beauty of Terentia? Alas! do you imagine, that this coldness will be still proof against that tender Passion, which Terentia will not be able long to disguise under the Mask of so violent a Constraint? She is the admired beauty of the Empire, and Caesar has a piercing judgement; she cannot long remain exposed to the destiny of loving by herself: And perhaps, at this very Moment, we are now discoursing, the cloud, which must of necessity be shortly transparent, may be removed from Caesar's eyes. He tells her the Universe has no fit object for Caesar's Love, than the immortal charms of the Divine Terentia: Than your designs, which hitherto may pass only for innocent attempts, will become unpardonable crimes. Be advised in time, and do not dispute the title of Terentia's Love, with the Master of the Universe, whose heart aught to be sacred to you, since it is stamped with the image of Caesar; and the lest forfeit you shall make of that obedience you own him, will be chastised as a criminal ingratitude in a person of Agrippa's quality.  
Ovid showed himself but too true a Prophet in his Predictions; you have been pleased to tell me since, that it was at that Just, where Terentia first began to charm you: but as I was ignorant of any such matter, and my wound too new, to receive a cure from the hand of reason, I had no regard to his too real Divinations.  
I tormented myself all night with such restless distractions, and being informed the next day, by some Spies, which I always maintained about Terentia, that she was to go to the Temple, you gave me leave to dedicated unto Neptune, I posted thither with an impatient speed. The Sacrifice was not begun, and whilst it was preparing, Terentia diverted herself by a walk under the Trees, which in many pleasant Groves are ranked about that Fane.  
You need not ask, said she, as soon as she saw me, what kind of devotion has invited Agrippa hither; he knew that Caesar is preparing for his Voyage into Asia, and is come to offer Sacrifice to the God of the Caerulean Empire, to purchase calm weather for his own Emperor. And, Madam, said I, are you come to purchase Storms and Tempests! I am too good a Roman, replied she with a surprising blush, to offer up to the Gods such sacrilegious Vows. And too clearsighted, Madam, said I, to regard the glory of Caesar with ah eye of that indifferency, as perhaps some other good Romans do.  
Terentia was so discomposed with this little reproach, that it was a long time before she could frame an Answer; but at length recomposing her self, you have attacked me more than once, replied she, with such mysterious discourses: your Advice against what I own to Maecenas, your flattering character, and your diligence, 'cause me to suspect, some private end is the Mark, they are levelled at. You now make your reflections upon Augustus, and may it not be possible, that great Caesar may honour with a generous compassion the innocent inclinations of his humble Handmaid?  
I was now so disordered myself at this question, that for a quarter of an hour, I lost the total use of my tongue, when Terentia with a serious look making a descant upon the distraction, she saw me in, you are surprised, I see, said she, to hear me propose, so unexpected a Problem to you. And perhaps you will say, that my late Manner of conversing with you, has not prepared you to entertain it: But Agrippa, the Passion I have for Augustus, has something in it of so noble and so pure, that I can own it without the reproach of a guilty blush: And I shall confess that my heart received the image of Caesar from my tender years, that this impression has grown with me, and that the Emperor has no engagements either in War, or Love, wherein it does not challenge a private concern. And does he entertain the like for me? Speak, and do not keep my Soul any longer in suspense; The purity of my intentions aught to leave no impure suspicions in yours. I love Caesar, as we love the Gods; and I should believe, I should be guilty of an impiety against them, should I love him otherways. Speak, Agrippa, and give me a clear explanation of that which the muteness of your tongue, and the eloquence of your eyes, gives me some apprehensions of. Oh! Madam, cried I, my eyes and my tongue are but the too fatal interpreters of my thoughts.  
Terentia did without doubt penetrate the sense of this Exclamation; she blushed, and pretending the Sacrifice was ready to begin, she took the occasion, and entered briskly into the Temple, leaving me without the power to follow her. I had discovered in her eyes, a kind of, I know not what despite; mixed with a reservedness and disdain, which I was not longer able to support. I went home to my house, where I found your Orders to summon me to your presence; With a feeble and languishing motion I paid obedience to your commands, and I thought that day would have put a mortal period to the cause of it; for, Sir, you commanded my attendance for no other, than to confided to me the secret of your new Amour.  
I did not tender myself guilty of a treasonable Crime in opposing it, but I told you at the same time, that I was deceived, if Terentia did not embrace it with all the concerns of a reciprocal Passion: But this constraint was so repugnant to my nature, that it ever apprehended with horror the necessity of often renewing it. A little after I made my Expedition into Sicily, on which the contemplative Judges of other Man's Actions took the liberty to spend their verdicts at their pleasure; And I am returned, thanks to the great Gods, so perfectly cured of my folly, that I hope they will inspire more dutiful principles into me, than to dispute the Justice or Merits of my Cause, with my glorious Emperor.  
I had several times resolved to declare to you the secret Crime, my Love tempted me to commit against you; but as that declaration would have only served to have assured you of your felicity, (and that I found you had an undoubted assurance of before) I judged it unnecessary. My Crime, Sir, is now ceased with my Love, and therefore they both cease to be longer silent; and here you have the whole secret of that fragment, which so much disquieted your Royal thoughts, most faithfully unmasked before you. Judge now, Sir, I beseech you, if your reason tells you, you have done Terentia justice, in suspecting her of infidelity.  
The Emperor attributed an entire confidence to the Relation of Agrippa, which perfectly reconciled his jealousy to his doubts concerning the Paper, which had come to his hand; but there was another, not lesle important, still inherent in his inquiet imagination. The discovery of a new Rival ever begets a new trouble in our fancy; and though in the height of its capriciousness he exhaled complaints, when suited only with the resentments of a Lover abused, yet he was not assured if he had not, since the first birth of his jealousy, some just grounds to harbour a contrary belief. He imparted all his thoughts to Agrippa, who endeavoured to calm them, with the best arguments he was capable of, he had made a most diligent inspection into all the concerns of Terentia, from the first Minute he had entertained any for her himself; And the love of Crassus had not deluded it, and therefore he conjured Caesar to believe, that he had purchased no other advantage with all his assiduities, than a disdainful repulse of his rejected suit. The Emperor, whose Love, was as unquiet, as passionate, and desired only to found repose, was willing, to be convinced by the reasoning of Agrippa: and testified no lesle acknowledgements to him, for this conquest he had made of his jealousy, than he had done before, when by those he had made of his most redoubted Enemies, he had established him in the Imperial Throne of the Universe: And hastening to the Apartment of Terentia, he was inflamed with impatience, till he had forced his unjust suspicions to beg a submissive pardon of her injured Loyalty; but he was disappointed of his design, for she was go to visit Tullia, at her delicate Villa, which her Father Cicero had left her near Tuseulum.  
When these two Confidents saw themselves in a, capacity of enjoying each other's conversation with freedom, Terentia declared to Tullia the disgrace of Crassus; and that she was informed by some persons, whom she privately entertained near the Emperor, that he had uttered some expressions before them, which his jealousy seemed to have forced from him. You know, said she, whether this jealousy has any solid ground, or not to support itself; and whether I am not able to apply an infallible remedy to his imaginary distemper, but he will not vouchsafe to have recourse to it. He caused Crassus to be arrested; he commanded all his Papers to be brought to him, and examined them, without imparting to me the lest inkling of his designs. What could he have done more, had I been convicted of a criminal compliance? Oh! how unjust are Men? The most accomplished among them become either Ingrates, or Tyrants, as soon as they imagine they have gained the lest interest in our affections, you do not consider, said Tullia, interrupting her, at what Mark you levelly your complaints. Jealousy is the infallible Herald of a violent Passion, and I should have had a greater for Ovid, than I now have, if when I put his to the test, I had found it of the same temper with Caesar's. I must confess, replied Terentia, that a little jealousy is inseparable from a great love; but do you understand, with what kind of jealousy I would have Augustus possessed? I would have him jealous of his own Imperial Grandeur; that he should fear, jest that should have a more powerful influence upon my inclinations, than the Merits of his Person; and that being exagitated without intermission by that active suspicion, he should employ the greatness itself, as an humble Suitor to me, to lend him my assistance to destroy it: yet all this should not make me forget the respect I own to the grandeur of his Soul, and the illustrious character of his generosity; but elevating my own Meanness to meet his Greatness at the point, to which he should be pleased to debase himself be low his own sphere, we would form a concurrence of spiritual desires, that should prevent the Lethargy of long and languishing Passions. But alas! it is not this noble kind of jealousy, but a sordid and injurious one, which Caesar is guilty of, and with which he has already alarmed the ears of the World, without vouchsafing to think mine worthy to receive from him the lest whisper of it, and believing me to be light, ingrateful, treacherous— He believes you to be no such thing, replied the daughter of Cicero, interrupting her, he only fears jest the Merit; or Assiduities of a new Lover should make a breach in your heart; and as it is to that heart only, to which he has confined his pretensions, the lest impression, any other should make there, he interprets, as an usurpation upon his own Prerogative. If you had not limited your favours to so narrow a circumference, Augustus would have thought himself more secure. There are certain Marks and Pledges of Love, after which a Lover cannot suspect his Mistress of unconstancy, without committing a mortal offence against her: But the gift of the heart, is not of that number; there is no particular value to be set upon it, but in the fancy of the Lover only, who thinks himself possessed of it; and as a Woman is seldom tempted more than once, to make a free donation thereof, and seldom wants the temptation of often violating it, she leaves always an apprehension in a sensible Lover, jest she should be moved by some powerful Motive, to embrace the latter, as being most obvious. Oh! Tullia, cried the Wife of Maecenas, I could be angry to see you frame such gross conceits on so delicate a Subject; the gift of the heart is so far from leaving any just scruple in the Souls of those that love, that it is only capable to assure their repose. All Pledges of Love, which are not included within it, are the effects of a weakness, which I think none aught to be guilty of, if they can avoid it, and that one may be guilty of more than once, since it is not voluntary and unconstrained. But that Love, whereof all the Passions acknowledge the Empire of reason, has I know not what in it of so noble, and so pure, that it will not admit the allay of any base or ignoble thought, and would make a greater scruple of the lest infidelity, than your Libertine Ladies do of the greatest Crimes.  
As Terentia had with these last words concluded her delicate distinctions, a Servant came and advertised Tullia, that Varentilla and Fulvia, attended by Horace, Virgil, and Cornelius Gallus, the Praetor of Egypt, were come from Rome to wait on her. Terentia was come thither to entertain her unquiet thoughts with that pleasant solitude, and was not than in a fit humour for a general converse. But the Train was composed of too many illustrious People, not to be received with all the demonstrations of an obliging respect and welcome. Fulvia was daughter to that renowned Tutor of Augustus, whose glories with himself were buried in the common ruins of the bloody Triumvirate: And the Emperor desirous to repair in her the Misfortunes of her Father, made but little difference in appearance betwixt her, and the Princess his daughter. Varentilla was her Kinswoman, and had married the Head of the Claudian Family, which has since given Caesar's to the Empire; and it is thought, that she preceded Terentia in the heart of Augustus. The two Friends went forth of their flowery Cabinet, where their converse was, and advanced to give a reception to the noble company.  
They found them in a Basse-Gallery, which opened with a stately Portal, and was wainscoted with cedar, and hung round with divers rich pieces, representing the most Memorable Actions of her Father's life. His famous pleading for Roscius, which obliged him to fly into Greece, to subtract himself from the fury of Sylla; the applauses and congratulationss, he received at Athens; his triumphant return into his own Country, and his honour for preserving it from the bloody attempts of Catiline: His journey towards Pompey, and that barbarous death he sustained, which branded with an eternal ignominy the Posterity of those that inflicted it.  
Had the Painter, said Virgil, upon the survey of those pieces, consulted my Memoires, he had not omitted the adventure of Milo. I caused it not to be here inserted, replied Tullia, because I have heard some reports, that in that encounter, the artifice of Hortensius triumphed over the eloquence of my Father. It is a Fiction, said Virgil, he did not gain that cause, though he gained no small honour by it; you were not in the World, when it was a witness to that grand trial; and therefore you are ignorant doubtless, of the circumstances of it; which I shall give you a faithful account of, when you please to command it; and by it convince you, that your renowned Father, never did any thing more remarkable and glorious.  
The time was never unseasonable to lend attention to what Virgil had to say. Terentia, with an obliging expostulation, complained of his unkindness, for designing to reserve that Relation for Tullia only. And Virgil, who understood very well the extent of that complaisance, we aught to exhibit to our Sovereign's in the person of those, they have an esteem for, told her she might command what she pleased, and he was ready to obey. The Company moved towards a Walk, which represented a continued Arbour, or green Umbrella, under which in the most scorching heats of Summer, you could not be incommoded by the Sun. Virgil placed himself betwixt the four Ladies: And Horace and Cornelius guarded the end of each Wing, and so marching all abreast, Virgil began his recital in this manner.   

A MEMORABLE ACT OF Cicero.  
IT is not so long, since the famous Cicero died, but that his glorious Memory may be yet present, to the thoughts, and almost the eyes, of the persons, that honour me with their attention. Few are ignorant, I suppose, how Claudius having been surprised in a female disguise in the Palace of the great Julius, Cicero publicly censured this licentious Audacity; and that Claudius being since elected Consul, omitted no occasion to exercise a Mortal Revenge upon him for this Affront. He persecuted him both in his estate and reputation, forced him to turn Exile, and fly to Dirachium, and had perhaps made his Fury the bloody Executioner of his Malice, had not Milo put a period to his rage, by putting one to his life.  
Milo had committed this Homicide in the just defence of his own Life, and the Laws of all Nations, pleaded a Pardon for him; and to support the justice of his Cause, he had made it a Client to Cicero. At that time there was in Rome a fair Athenian, celebrated there under the name of Plautia, to whom the Orator Hortensius dedicated both his love and eloquence; and who by the excellence of her wit, and a thousand other admirable qualities and charms, had purchased the Fame of a matchless Prodigy in her Sex.  
Hortensius told her, for a piece of pleasing News, that he was chosen to sustain the Accusation against Milo. Do you not tremble, said Plautia to him, at the thoughts of encountering an eloquence, which has so often been victorious? It is not the first time, replied Hortensius, that I have entered the Lists against it. There are few causes of note, which are not divided betwixt Cicero and myself; I pleaded against him for Antony, for Asinius-Pollio, and divers others. We were Antagonists in the Trials of Lucius-Murena, and if I may without the opinion of vanity, repeat what Rome herself has published, it was not Cicero, whom her loud acclamations proclaimed the Victor. That was, replied Plautia, because in those encounters, you did not pled for the condemnation of the Murderer of Claudius. Cicero will paramount himself, and think it a supreme glory, to wrist out of the hands of Justice so notorious a Criminal; and if you will be advised by a Friend, wave, if you can, so hazardous an engagement.  
I neither can, nor aught to wave it, replied Hortensius; I am chosen to demand satisfaction for the blood of Claudius, I should betray it if I should be silent; and besides, our profession has that advantage over all others, that it may gain reputation, but loose none, though it loose a cause. If I should surmount the eloquence of Cicero, I should purchase immortal honour; and should mine receive a foil from his, it would receive no blemish in the overthrow; our ardour and zeal supply the place of a prosperous success, and never Orator yet was charged with the partiality or petulancy of a biased Judge. I am not of that opinion, replied Plautia, there are some qualities, which a person of honest principles aught to dedicated his whole life to the acquisition of; the labour they cost, aught not to deter us from the pursuit of them; and it is more glorious to miscarry in that, than to think we can live with honour without them. But Eloquence is not of that predicament, which has no motives to compel us to addict ourselves to its profession. It neither inspires us with honesty, nor equitable thoughts, nor constancy or resolution in Adversities; but on the contrary, it may corrupt and vitiate the candid temper of an ingenuous Soul. For an Orator does oftentimes make it his sport and recreation to patronise an unjust cause, and hopes he may easily persuade others to believe, what he seems to believe himself. It is therefore nothing, but the choice of the Will; and when it turns to the confusion of him that made it, it leaves him convinced of his own ignorance, the baseness of his spirit, and the weakness of his judgement.  
These words, pronounced by a person Hortensius most ardently affected, made so strong an impression in his thoughts, that leaving Plautia, he went in haste to found out Cicero. You are a Person of too honourable Principles, said he to him, not to approve of the preference of Justice, before all the advantages one might hope to obtain by force of a vigorous Eloquence. And it is a glorious one for me, to be thought worthy of the honour of arguing an opinion against you: If mine should be convincing, what immortal Laurels would Fame plant upon my Temples? And should you refute it, I should learn by my defeat, to assure myself of Victory in other encounters with the same arms which gave it me. But Cicero, the advantageous success wherewith you see, I might flatter my thoughts, aught not to efface out of them that just remorse, which would certainly attend it. Claudius was a vicious Man, and Milo has obliged all good Men, by freeing Rome from so corrupt a Member, by an action he was forced to commit in the just defence of his life. I will not pled for his condemnation; and either the error or partiality of the Judges, may, perhaps, overrule the force of your reasons: I would not have you therefore expose Milo to that danger; he stands justified already in my thoughts, and I shall be ready to declare, that on the examination of the Fact, Justice obliged me to pronounce him innocent.  
The Enemies of Cicero pretend, that an itch of Ambition would not suffer him to embrace this offer. He had already made some laborious reflections upon th● Cause, and assured himself of a victorious success; and would not, say they, loose neither his labour, nor the first-fruits he expected to reap from it. But I know, that was not the Motive; he apprehended, that he might be accused of some juggle, or underhand dealing, if in the face of Justice, where the Murderer of Claudius was brought to a public Trial, the Advocate for the dead Person, should observe a wilful and suspected silence; and therefore he was resolved to pled; and Hortensius, who feared the reproaches of Plautia, and saw himself supported by the credit of Cato, to whom the dead Person was Nephew, used so much artifice, that, as Tullia expressed it, he triumphed that day over the Eloquence of Cicero. He caused false informations to be given to the Senate, which obliged them to sand some armed Bands to keep the People within the bounds of their duty: These Soldiers being gained by Hortensius, did by their insolences so disturb and interrupt Cicero in the most material parts of the cause, that Milo was not only condemned to banishment, and a severe mulct set upon his head, but likewise exposed to an eminent danger of his life.  
I made my return just about that time from Sicily, where the generous bounty of the illustrious Maecenas had graced me with a considerable Employ. The reputation of Cicero was not unknown to me, I had an ardent ambition to have the honour of being enrolled in the number of his Friends, and Manlius presented me to him the very same day, wherein he had lost his cause for Milo.  
Whence come you? said he to me, as soon as he understood who I was; Go build yourself a Cabin upon the ruins of Mantua, and turn Herdsman there to some wealth Grazier, if you want ability to keep one yourself; and bury your glory in the smoking ruins of your Country, rather than breathe the corrupted Air of this pernicious City; which triumphs now in nothing, but treachery and injustice. The Senate, that once renowned Assembly, now tamely receives its decrees from the Usurpers of Supreme Authority, wherewith it oppresses the innocent, and justifies the guilty: Fly, fly, wise stranger, from a Climate so barbarous and inhuman.  
Manlius had heard what had arrived to him; what? Cicero, said he, does your animosity against Claudius, survive the date of his life? And do you imprecate Rome, because an unexpected revenge has honourably entombed his ashes in the Urn? It is not Claudius, when I now consider, replied Cicero; for had he been the dearest of my friends, the revenge of his death notwithstanding would never have appeared to me the lesle unjust.  
Than he briefly summoned up to us the Points upon which the justification of Milo aught to have been established, and how Hortensius himself made a scruple to sustain the Accusation against him: What! said Cicero, the Accuser of the pretended Criminal declares him innocent, and shall the authority of Cato have the power to pronounce him Guilty? Hortensius could not found amongst all the quirks and jingles of his profession, a pretence sufficient to tender the death of Claudius' punishable: And because he was Nephew to Cato, the Senate denounces itself the mortal Enemy of his Murderer? Ha! my dear Manlius, what Age do we live in? I have just now sent Milo a Sum to discharge the weight of his unreasonable Fine: which honour obliges me to pay, since he owes his condemnation to the sole ambition I had to expose the equity of his cause to the judgement of the world. Had I been silent, he had been free; and the ardour, I expressed, to vindicate his innocence, has condemned it. I will retire to some Desert, to expiate amongst dumb Animals, the crime of my Loquacity; and Rome shall not more behold me in her Pulpits, till she become again what she was in the days of our Fathers, which is as much as to say, she shall never behold me more. Our Vices have exasperated Heaven; it has averted from us these benign influences, which formerly rendered us virtuous, just and sincere; desolate Rome draws near her ruin, since the Gods permit her to draw upon her crimes their indignation; and I shall speedily prepare an Elegy to deplore her Catastrophe with more reason, than Virgil has at this day to deplore the desolation of his Mantua.  
Manlius combated, with all the Arguments he could frame, this obstinate resolution of his Friend; and though I was not so well known to him, to assume the presumption of giving him counsel, yet I could not forbear to use these expressions; Sir, said I, the more vicious you judge Rome, the more reason you have to make yourself a Precedent not to abandon her. What will become of her, if all the brave and honest Romans you are acquainted with, should put on the same resolutions as you do, to proscribe themselves from their Country, and leave her a prey to so many devouring Monsters? It is the duty of the virtuous, to protect her, when public Vices attack her; and you must give an account to the Gods for the impunity, to which your absence shall expose the crime of Libertines.  
Cicero was pleased to accept in good part my Remonstrances, and honour them too with expressions they could not merit. But besides, that he was immoveably fixed to his resolutions, he had so much incommoded himself by the liberal disbursement he had made for Milo, that he had reduced his condition to a necessity of spending some time in a Country retirement. He withdrew to this place, which was not than what his own industry, and the curiosity of his worthy daughter have rendered it since. Alas! I had cause to oppose my most powerful reasons against this retreat, which has cost me so many sighs, and melancholy hours; and my divining Soul seemed beforehand, to give me an ill-relishing taste of the various misfortunes it prepared for me.  
These last words of Virgil inflamed the curiosity and attention of those that heard him, which would have obliged him to a second Relation, had they not seen appear at the end of the Walk, the Emperor, the Princess Julia, the Prince Marcellus, and the Illustrious Agrippa.  
Tullia hastened to present herself unto them; and wholly surprised with that unexpected honour, testified her acknowledgements by a confusion in her countenance, which expressed as much eloquence, as one of her Father's most studied Orations could have done. The Emperor was naturally affable and courteous, and had his thoughts been lesle perplexed and encumbered, would, in obliging terms, have retaliated that obliging Air of satisfaction and joy, which Tullia expressed in his reception. But they were wholly fixed upon the Wife of Maecenas; when discovering her at the farther end of the Walk, who partly out of surprise, and partly disdain, had not advanced to receive him, he left Julia with the Daughter of Cicero, and like a complaisant Lover, moved his condescending Greatness towards her. The Air of the Campagne, Madam, said he, approaching her, has already, methinks, rendered you singular, you take no delight to follow the company; and had I followed your example, I had this day in vain left Rome, to purchase yours. I know, the duty and distance I own my Emperor, replied Terentia coldly; and I shall not assume the confidence to approach him, without his special command. Ha! Madam, said Caesar, interrupting her, it is not such a cold respect you own him, but one of a little more love, and a little more sincerity. Forget he is Master of the Universe, but remember that he has given you his whole heart, that you own him all yours; and that you cannot acquit yourself of your obligations towards him, as long as you entertain the addresses of Crassus, and encourage them by constituting him the Guardian of your choicest secrets. I never considered the addresses of Crassus, replied Terentia, but as an office of friendship, whereof your bounteous favours for Maecenas, and myself, have given Precedents to the whole Empire; and if they are levelled at any other mark, I scorn to give them entertainment in my thoughts. You are the most spiritual of all Women, Madam, replied the Emperor; and it is not hard for you to captivated as well the understanding, as you have done the heart, of a Prince, over whom you reign as Sovereign Empress. But, Madam, said he, (showing her the Verses he had taken from Crassus) were these confecrated to you without your knowledge? and if you accepted the Sacrifice, could you without a crime flatter the audacious fancy of a Rival to Caesar?  
Terentia was surprised at the view of these effects of Crassus' love: she thought it had not been so durable, as to 'cause him to make such passionate reflections. I know not, said she, whither these Verses were composed for me, I never saw them before; and I really believe, some other Person to be the Subject of them. But, Sir, though it were true, that a young inconsiderate Person should be guilty of the folly of entertaining a Passion for me, could Caesar fear a Rival of so small consideration? Upon what grounds, Sir, do you raise your apprehensions? Upon the preference, the Merits of Crassus may challenge over Caesar's? Upon the propensity, you have found in me, to violate either my word, or my duty? Upon my natural levity, or the character of my amorous inclinations? Oh! Sir, can you know me, can you esteem me, and yet be capable of such injurious suspicions?  
Caesar was willing to be convinced of his error, and hastily gave credit to all, Terentia was pleased to have him believe: and whilst he was pleading a Pardon for the injustice he had committed against her innocence, in framing an unworthy suspicion of it, Agrippa was retired into the same Grove, where a little before Terentia and Tullia had entertained their private converse. There he broke open a Letter, which was delivered him upon the Road, and he knew to come from Ovid. Horace, who had followed him, found him reading the Contents of it, which advised him to an action which he had often had a design to execute.  
A Man may know that Tullia is taken up with some extraordinary affairs, said he to Horace; if you could have commanded the freedom of her conversation, you would not have done me the honour, at this present, to have sought after any other. I apprehended you, replied Horace; you railly me upon my libertine humour; and you ingeniously reproach me, that Love is not the Divinity I sacrifice to. A Person, replied Agrippa, who should only become acquainted with you by the voice of public Error, would be apt, perhaps, to cast that reproach upon you; but an intimate Friend to Ovid, knows how to give you your due character. I am not ignorant of any of your Triumphs, and I can testify, that you are not lesle favoured by Love, than any other of the Deity. Ovid is a great Master in the Art of Metamorphosing, replied Horace with a smile, and doubtless he took me for the River Alpheus, or the Nymph Salmacis, when he charactered me for an Amorist. He took you, said Agrippa, for his dangerous Rival, and he has found so few that merit that title, that he could not confounded them in summing them up. I know you have stolen from him the heart of Tullia, and that she being seduced by the gaiety of your humour, has made the charming Ovid understand, that he was not born to be always the first to dissolve the bands of an amorous intrigue. You relate to me a pleasant Fable, Sir, replied Horace; and you doubtless forget, that it is a famous debauch, who has the honour to talk to you. To punish you for your dissimulation, said Agrippa, making him sit down by him, you shall recount to me without excuse, or delay, the particulars of your Amour, which I was never perfectly informed of by Ovid; who, I observed, could never discourse of it without trouble; and therefore I was willing to indulge his vanity that satisfaction, as not to press him to so unpleasing a recital: But since I know, you are able to surmount all troubles incident to tender Lovers, I shall not observe that Punctilio with you. I know upon what occasion the Emperor is come hither, and we may have the liberty of discoursing above an hour without interruption.  
Agrippa's Merits might so justly challenge the respect of the whole Empire, and Horace stood indebted to them for so many favours, that it would have been a piece of rude ingratitude in him, to have opposed the lest delay to his desires. He told him by way of a gallantry, that he was so inur'd to Victory, that he conquered all he attacked; and by the command of Agrippa, keeping the Seat he had placed him in, he began in this manner.   

THE HISTORY OF Horace.  
THE World has incurred an error in judgement, my Lord, in that it has made of me; which believes that good cheer is the sole Deity I idolise: who have neither gust, nor desires, but to delicious Novels; and only regard Love, as an intermesses, or preparative to quicken their appetite for the better relishing voluptuous varieties of a luxurious Table. This draught does nothing at all resemble me. Liberty is that I seek at Feasts, more than the delicacies of their entertainments; and if a Man in the whole course of his life were endued with a Soul so brutish, that it were capable of no other inclinations, than what a gourmandizing appetite should inspire into it, I should be found oftener at the private Tables of my Friends, than in their Halls at their public Banquets.  
These practices may divert a Man's thoughts from more serious Reflections, or Employs, but cannot divest them of all propensity to generous actions, or noble and tender Passions: And his reason is the more refined by them, since he does not associate himself with his Friends, but to make a more open profession of it: And a Man is so far from falling into those Vices, which infect his nature with brutality, by this frank overture, that a Man is really more a Man, when his Soul is totally unmasked of that dissimulation, which is generally practised by People of a more reserved converse.  
I had made some remarks upon these distinctions in an Ode I composed in the praise of a magnificent Banquet, made by the generous Maecenas; and this Poem was received with so much applause, that a Critic aught to have been very audacious, that durst have censured it. Ovid gloried to be that audacious One; and being one day in the presence of the Princess Julia, he omitted no kind of Raillery wherewith he did not play upon me, for dedicating my genius wholly to Bacchanalian Revels and Triumphs.  
What do you found in it so ridiculous, said I to him? Is not the fertile Vine, which is Mother to the delicious Falernian Grape, as worthy of the noblest Ideas of a Poet, as the Flowers, you combine into an odoriferous Posy, and therein present us with a Clita, or an Hippolita? This Allegory, replied Ovid, has relation to a passion of the Soul, much nobler than that of a gluttonous appetite; and it is more glorious for a Poet to teach Lovers the gentle Art of Loving, than Debauchees, the most ingenious method of improving their Debaucheries. Love, said I, surprises the frolic spirit amidst the jollity of his Cups and Banquets, as it attacks the Melancholy in his solitary and sullen retirements. The delight a boon Companion takes in being regaled, and a Lover in being loved, have nothing of incompatibility betwixt them. It is only a going in quest after Pleasure more than one way, and arriving at it by two different Roads. They are two different Roads indeed, replied Ovid, and no Man can ever so deceive himself, as to believe, that to arrive at the Elysium of Love, he must travel through the sordid Veil of a brutish voluptuousness. It is a rare way indeed to charm a Lady, to accost her with those nauseous and brainsick Raptures, wherewith the drowsy Souls of the boon Companions, you mention, are always intoxicated? Would it not be a commendable excuse, think ye, when a Lady should desire her servant to pay a double assiduity and diligence to her service, to oppose to her commands, a necessity of going to a Bacchanalian Rendezvouz? And do you think, she would not have great reason to be highly satisfied with this obliging Compliment, I shall not see you to morrow; I must spend the whole day in drinking with my Friends: where I shall encounter a thousand pleasures, which as you are not capable to give me, you are not like to share with me; and some pleasant Table discourse, or other diversions, will abundantly supply the want of your company.  
This satirical raillery of Ovid, which he heightened by his drolling way of delivering it, and the Princess Julia's seeming passionately to espouse his quarrel against me, did so nettle me, that I was resolved to study a revenge. I knew he affected Tullia, and I found her a Person most worthy to be affected. I designed, if it were possible, to disappoint him of the heart of that fair one. I was not ignorant how sensible he would be of such a loss; and I was ambitious to demonstrate to him by convincing reasons, that ingenious Debauchery is not inconsistent with the charms of Love.  
I was acquainted with the Daughter of Cicero, as one is acquainted with People of Quality, whom they see in the Court either about the Empress, or the Princesses. I applied myself with all diligence to gain a more particular acquaintance with her. I endeavoured to oblige her by my ready services, and the first occasion I encountered, was at the Feast of the Bacchanales, which was that year governed by my directions; I made all the Parts of it allude to that Proverb of Cicero, 
Sine Baccho Friget Venus;  
Without the help of lusty Bacchus, Love  
Grows cold, and cannot our dull spirits move.   
And allegorising to the sense of the Proverb, I caused a Cupid to be placed upon one side of Bacchus his Statue, and both of them to be mounted upon one triumphal Chariot. They seemed to have made mutual Presents to each other; Cupid was crowned with clusters of Grapes, and carried a great Glass in his hand, instead of his Bow; and a great-bellied Bottle served him for a Quiver, for his Arrows, and Bacchus wore the Quiver and Bow, which Cupid wanted. Diverse young Maids, habited like Painters, representing the Maenads and Graces, mixed one among another, followed the Chariot, and with a disorderly kind of order exchanged employs with each other. The Maenads distributed amongst the People, those Gallantries, which it only belonged to Love to bestow; and the Graces, officiously offered, to fill up full Glasses to any, that would receive them.  
You were than upon your Voyage towards Sicily, my Lord, and since Ovid has not related to you the particulars of our Corrivallship, you are ignorant perhaps of that, which happened at that Feast. Tullia publicly declared, that she was obliged to me, for giving so glorious a revive to the memory of her Father; and whether Ovid was desirous to put a flurr upon this favour of hers towards me or not, or only to railly me, I know not, but he composed a Poem, entitled, LOVE IN A RAGE. Where feigning, that that God had framed Complaints against my Sacrilege, he made him thunder out severe Menaces and Imprecations against me.  
He had carried this piece of Gallantry to Tullia's house, when she happened not to be at home; and had left it upon a Table in her Chamber, that she might found it at her return. I came thither a little after Ovid was go; a young Slave, whom I had gained to my interests, told me, he had lately been there, and showed me the Paper he had left behind him. The indignation I conceived to see myself so much abused, raised the choler of my Muse, and snatching up Pen and Paper, upon the same Title of Love in a Rage, I drew a draught of Ovid's inconstancies. I folded up my satire, in the same form he had done his; I laid it upon the same Table; and just as I had finished my Cheat, Tullia came in.  
Ovid ushered her, and had told her by the way, as they came, that he had left in her Chamber, a new emergency of his extravagant fancy. She thought to have found, what he spoke of, in the Paper, which lay in the place of the other, and snatching it up hastily, began to read, 

Love in a Rage,  
Come Rage and Fury, bring your flaming darts,  
Your Chains, your Arrows died in bleeding hearts,  
All the immortal Tortures, which you forge  
In your dire Shops, the Crimes of Men to scourge,  
And armed with all th' offensive tools of Fate,  
The honour of my Altars vindicate.  
A thousand just complaints each hour invade  
My tender ears, by youthful Beauties made  
Against th' Ingrate—    
These first seven Verses were copied word by word out of Ovid's Paper, which he quietly gave attention to, but interrupted her at the eighth. You do not read right, Madam, said he, it is not 
My tender ears by youthful Beauties made,  It is, 
My ears, and Heavens', by Youth and Beauty made,  
To see themselves a Homage forced to pay  
To Bacchus, and his Rendezvouz obey.   
Read it yourself, said Tullia interrupting him, and tell me, which most needs correction, your Memory, or my Eyes. He took the Paper, and finding the Verses changed, was so surprised, that he knew not what to say. Are you now satisfied, said Tullia, whether your Memory or my Eyes are most treacherous? Your Eyes are faithful Judges, replied Ovid, and my Memory has not betrayed me; but here is a Mystery, which I cannot unriddle. These words inflamed the curiosity of Tullia, and taking the Paper out of his hand, she began again to read: 
Come Rage and Fury, bring your flaming darts,  
Your chains, your arrows, died in bleeding hearts,  
All the immortal tortures, which you forge  
In your dire shops, the crimes of Men to scourge,  
And armed with all th' offensive tools of Fate,  
The honour of my Altars vindicate.  
A thousand just complaints each hour invade  
My tender ears by youthful Beauties made  
Against th' Ingrate; who being the forlorn  
And doleful Objects of his treacherous scorn,  
Do 'fore my Altars the sad victim lie  
Of broken Vows, and martyred Constancy:  
So many powerful Charms did I impart  
To this Ingrate, that the most stony heart  
Was forced with melting sighs and flames to meet  
The perjured Vows, he laid down at its feet.  
The doctrine of my School refined his wit,  
And in his Soul engrafted Maxims, fit  
To make it capable to be the Owner  
Of all true principles of Love and Honour:  
The pleasure of the senses, the transports  
Of wit and mirth, the smartness of retorts;  
An endless Mine of amorous desires,  
A flame, to light, and quench, a Vestal's fires:  
In fine I all my talents to him lent;  
And how has he so vast a treasure spent?  
He by his black Inconstancy has made  
A thousand false Apostates in the Trade;  
A thousand wavering hearts revolt from me,  
By the example of his treachery.  
Each injured Beauty now does fearful grow,  
And every Lover for a Traitor go.  
My name itself a terror does infuse.  
How did not his disloyalty abuse?  
The matchless bounties of a glorious Belle,  
Whose name I for some reasons shall conceal.  [The Princess Julia, 
What have not Fulvia, Corynna, rare  
Floricia, and Emilia the Fair;  
Valeriu's two Sisters, Creon the Slave,  
Done to oblige this most perfidious—?  
Who catched all in the snares of harmless Love,  
Did the effects of his foul treason prove.  
When to an object (he designs t'ensnare)  
Such solemn Vows he of his Faith does swear,  
Of Homage, and of Love, that you would say,  
Eternity, before it, would decay,  
As if of Janus, or of Proteu's race,  
Into two different shapes he parts his face.  
One side does represent unto your eye  
The zealous Picture of sincerity.  
The other, like sly Renard, on you smiles,  
To see what Fools Love catches in his toils.  
Than in the cheat he triumphs, and his wit;  
Nor fearing my scorned power, does judge it fit,  
(As well as us) for nothing but to be  
The scourge of Amorous Credulity.  
Oh! worthy to the Rack to be condemned,  
To which I all unworthy Lovers sand:  
May Malice, Rage, and Jealousy invent  
Daily new tortures for his punishment.  
May he lie languishing, and ever mourn  
At Beauty's feet, for nothing, but its scorn.  
May nothing, but deluding hopes control  
His best designs, and tantalise his Soul:  
And to complete all his misfortunes, may  
All Objects, which his smooth-tongued baits betray,  
Knowing their error, break th' enslaving chain,  
And nothing ever from this hour retain  
For the Ingrate, but horror and disdain.   
It is not without cause, said I, when Tullia had finished the reading the Verses, that Love is so much enraged against that Lover, since he appears to be guilty of so many enormous crimes. Those, replied Ovid, briskly intertupting me, who impose this Rage upon Love, are so little capable of understanding him, that none aught to judge of his opinion upon their inconsiderable testimonies. They were without doubt in an elevated vein, when they belched forth this satire, which is the froth rather of the giddy fumes of a stummed bottle, than a just reproach to Love. I know not what the persons are, you speak of, said I, without seeming at all to be moved, but methinks they have delineated so lively a draught of ingratitude, that they cannot be ignorant of the opposite virtue, that they have Souls capable of noble passions; and that if they have found so ingenious a way to divert a Mistress, and destroy a Rival, the froth of the bottle, which has inspired this Art into them, seems to me to deserve a place amongst the most politic stratagems of Love. To divert a Mistress, and destroy a Rival? said Ovid, Heavens! Can that sort of People aspire to so vainglorious a conceit? Do they not understand, that living only for themselves, Women know not whether there are any such Animals in the World or no: That they regard their pretensions to Gallantry, but like vanishing Dreams hatched in the capricio of an elevated brain; and that a tender Lover, would think he could not injure his Mistress more, than to suspect, she could have the lest complaisance for a person of that stamp. Be he of that stamp, or any other, said Tullia interrupting him, I agreed with you, that a Lady, who has a pre-engagement upon her, will not easily yield a complaisance to a new Amour; but if I had a Lover, I should not love to see him so much an Opiniator, as to think, nothing else could please me: I would have him suspicious of every thing, be jealous of the ingenuity of these Verses, apprehensive of some secret design in them, and in fine created to himself a thousand little cares and dangers upon Subjects of the lest moment or probability. No Man upon earth, Madam, replied Ovid, comprehends the use and force of the cares and inquietudes you mention, better than myself. But a Lover, Madam, becomes oftentimes more criminal, in applying them ill, than in not resenting them at all. We aught to understand the temper of the heart, we endeavour to charm; and if it be true, that Love derives its generous birth from the sympathy of Souls, the Person I suspect to be the Author of those Verses, I shall never triumph over a passionate and sensible Lover.  
I could than neither refute this Prophecy, nor comprehend what Tullia thought of it; two or three of the Ladies, who were cited in the Verses, came to give Tullia a visit, who made an earnest sign to us, not to mention a word of the premises before them. But the day after, my little Intelligencer came and brought me a Letter, which she had gained by surprise from a young Graecian, who served Tullia, and by whom she sent it to Ovid; I opened it, and read the following Contents. I begin now to be enrolled in the number of your Cast Mistresses, your inconstancy makes those ordinary towers; and you cannot longer love me, since Horace cannot make you jealous. My Women informed you, that he was two hours alone in my Chamber during my absence; and you aught to have suspected, that he employed them in changing your Verses; and so apparent a design to undermine you in your negligent security you regard only as a Poetical vanity. Was it your part to make so weak a remark? and are you not ashamed to be fooled into so easy a persuasion of that, which it is mine, to employ a thousand cares and stratagems to beget in you?  
I thought it not expedient to allow Tullia the leisure of making in Person these Reproaches to my Rival; I was doubtful of the success. Whereupon I begged the favour of Cepion, who was our common Friend, but much more mine, than Ovid's, to take him along with him to Domitius' house, where he had designed a Treat both of Munificence and Pleasure to entertain his Friends: and at this time, Tullia leaving Rome to spend some days at this Villa where now we are, I seconded the resentments which she had already conceived against him, with a declaration of my own Passion for her. I had by a small gift or two above a month before, engaged the Artificer to me, that made her Chariots; and I had experience of his Fidelity not long after; for, by design, her Chariot broke at the entrance into the Wood, which lies upon the right hand, as you come hither. I had caused a commodious Tent to be pitched in that Wood, and prepared a Treat in readiness not improper for the occasion, which was attended with a Set of choice Music; and all things falling out as successfully as I could desire, I was there at hand to help Tullia out of the perplexity she was embroiled in. She was surprised to meet on the Road with so unexpected an assistance. I told her, this was a preparation for one of those pleasant Debauches, which Ovid so often upbraided me with, that I waited for some of my Friends, with whom I had designed to recreate myself that day; but that I was highly obliged to them for their negligence, since the Gods had sent me now much more agreeable company to supply their places; and just as I uttered these last words, the Collation was served in.  
Tullia commended the elegancy of it, and told me, that if we made no other Debauches than those, Ladies might be proud to participate of them; we pretend, Madam, said I, so much to the honour of their companies at them, that they can afford us no real satisfaction, or gust, without them. But Ovid is an Heretic in our Mysteries, who never understood them in their purity. I have an ambition to present you with a true draught of them, which you will found far different from that you have already received from him. I gave a sign to the Music to strike up; which they obeyed by an harmonious, yet brisk praeludium, that much revived the spirits of Tullia, after her little disaster upon the Road, and was followed with a Consort of divers voices, which sung these Verses: 
A train of Servants trouble does created,  
Who with their eyes devour us, and our meat,  
Staring upon us like starved Harpy-Elves;  
Be go, and let us eat our meat ourselves.  
What? think ye, cannot we without a Spy  
Upon us, eat, or drink? Avaunt, for I  
Love Secrecy as much at boards, as beds;  
Bacchus, as well as Love, makes jealous heads.   
My Servants were ordered before to retire upon this Sign, and the Music went on: 
Oh! how their absence, does our hearts revive!  
Their greedy eyes, which looked, as they'rd etrieve  
Each bit we eat, devoured us up alive.  
Let's speak, we are alone, let's freely vent  
Our thoughts, our secret Love, or Discontent,  
And banish Fear; for Bacchus must excuse  
All those, who frolic at his Rendezvouz.   
Tullia seemed to be a little startled, when she saw all my Servants withdraw, and the sense of the last two couplets confirming her surprise; Oh! cried she out, I have now a clear prospect of your intentions; the hazard I now run of my reputation, and the breaking of my chariot, are too much to be suspected, not to give me a just apprehension of some design. Oh! Madam, suspected of what? said I, of an innocent design, of making you a passionate declaration of Love: Is this an attempt, which you aught to have a fearful apprehension of? You abuse the confidence, Horace, said Tullia, I was willing to repose in your Generosity; and had not I ingeniously suffered myself to be deceived, when I was brought hither, you had not had now the opportunity of making Discourses to me, so voided of discretion, or sincerity. Madam, I call the Gods to witness, said I, I never made any in my life, so full of ingenuity and candour; and if you vouchsafe not to understand them so, you will do their Author a great injustice, who loves you more, than ever any person yet could pretend to love you. Neither the Corrivallship of so famed an Opposite, as Ovid, nor the Prerogative he may pled to Antiquity, have power to discourage me in so glorious an attempt. It is a whole Month, since I have snatched at all opportunities of opening this presumptuous Declaration at your feet; but the assiduity of my Rival has always countermined mine: till now Fortune has at last be-friended my languishing impatience, with this blessed one out of his presence. Receive than the humble Petition of my Love, without rigour, or disdain; my Rival only comes to make repetitions with you, of what he has preached in the Closets of all the Ladies of Rome. His method of making Love can pretend now not longer to the charms of a surprise, or the glory of a first offering, which are advantages mine comes attended with into your service; and though you had no other design in allowing it a small apartment in some bie-corner of your heart, than presenting an Associate, to Love, of my qualifications, he has presented you with Graces enough, to merit from you so generous an acknowledgement.  
Just as I had ended my Discourse, Ovid surprised us with his unexpected arrival, who having met (as he was coming from Domitius') Tullia's Coachman, who was returned to Rome to provide another Carriage (for that which was broken) for his Coach, was informed by him of the accident which had happened to his Mistress, and he was now come to compliment her escape. The circumstances he found her in, could not choose but give him an unkind welcome. The Pavilion, under which we were, seemed to be embossed all over with the embroidery of diverse-coloured flowers; which joining their natural Perfumes with many other rich essences, wherewith divers curious Jars and Caskets were filled, and placed in odoriferous ranks about it, seemed to tender it an Elysium, almost equal to that he had in his own Wo●ks prepared for happy Lovers. The Music was some of the choicest, that belonged to the Emperor; and the relics of our Collation declared, that without vanity it might pretend both to Magnificence and Curiosity. But Ovid, who was not accustomed to loose the possession of a heart, wherein he once had gained an interest, imagined that the passion he had for Tullia, was a sufficient security to assure him of the right he claimed in hers: And when he understood she had received no hurt by the accident of her Chariot, he seemed to have not more concern for any thing else, than when he used to found her alone in her Chamber: I was not wanting to make Tullia sensible of this coldness and insensibility of his; you see, Madam, said I softly in her ear, that the Protestations of Love, which are rendered you at a Debauch, are more sincere than those you are want ro receive in your private Closet; your Chariot broke by an accident, which only exposed you to the hazard of honouring this place a few hours with your glorious presence; and the Gods, by a special Providence, designed me for your assistance. Ovid has surprised us together, and is not jealous; but I, Madam, I am of his shadow only; and would willingly purchase at the too inconsiderable value of all that I am worth, the felicity of entertaining you one moment longer without such envious witnesses. Be you than, Madam, an impartial Judge, and declare, which in your opinion, merits the character of the most sincere and the most passionate Lover.  
This discourse exasperated the thoughts of Tullia, which were already disposed to harbour a prejudice against Ovid, who had returned no answer to her last Letter; and as she was ignorant of the cause, she imputed that to him as a crime, which was only an artifice of my Love. She beg●n to railly upon him after a manner, which could not choose but trouble him, and I perceived at that instant he was scarce able to digest it with patience. But he has since told Cepion (who related it to me again) that he conquered that impulse of his disdain, as a frenzy, which he thought would call his reason in question, to have shown himself capable of it. How? said he to my Friend, could I imagine that a Soul, who had been trained up by my Maxims to the Mysteries of Love, should be debauched by Horace? The Gods seemed never to suffer me to awake in a Morning, but to recount to my Mistress the dreams they inspired into my fancy at Night, she finds that the devotion I have for her, causes me to pay a daily one to the temple she frequents. She neither makes a visit, nor takes walk, whereat my diligent observance does not attend her. My regards, my discourses, the happy raptures of my Muse, all offer sacrifice to my Love; I neither think, nor act, but to improve its interest with her. Horace is a Libertine, whose whole life, like a Comical Representation, is divided only into divers Scenes, of Play, Banquets, Revels, Public Spectacles, and other lewd diversions. What leisure could he found to cultivate a Love-intrigue? or what frenzy or capricio could invade Tullia, to prefer such a Rival before me? This capricio, if it might be called one, derived its birth from the converse of that day, I now mention. Tullia has told me since, that she found the declaration of my Love very singular; which I found means afterwards likewise to illustrate, with two or three Gallantries more, as unexpected, as the Treat in the Wood We accompanied Tullia home to this Villa; for I understood, that her Chariot would return so late from home, that such a Convoy would not be unwelcome to her. At a convenient place upon the Road, she was encountered with a Troop of sergeant Shepherds and Shepherdesses, with the sound of divers Country Instruments, with a kind of rustic triumph, conducted her home to her house; and some of them disguised like Gypsies, danced before her after the Gypsie-manner; and these divertisements employing her time before Supper, a Set of Comedians, who pretended they had lost their way, and begged entertainment there that night, took up most part of it, in representing the furies of Ajax.  
I counterfeited the ignorant, and made protestations that I was surprised at these comic Novelties; but this was too course a spun web, to delude a judgement of Ovid's perspicacity. He raged, he reproached Tullia, and interpreting her denial of having given the lest consent, or encouragement to these rustical diversions a criminal dissimulation, he was almost arrived to that point of jealousy, as Tullia's wishes could have exacted from him; but as her innocence was wholly unworthy of his accusations, and he thought he discovered the real marks of it in the motions of her countenance, he relapsed into his old Lethargy, of a calm security and repose.  
We returned both together to Rome, where some commands of Maecenas detained him much against his will, at the time of Tullia's sojourn in the Country. My diligence was not wanting to give that the colour of a negligence, which I knew to be a bore necessity; and redoubling my bounty and instructions to the Slave I had gained to my devotion, I played my game so well, that Ovid had no opportunity of justifying his long absence, nor Tullia of receiving any Letter from him; but was absolutely convinced, that he was the most cold and tepid Lover in the world. As this error and remissness of Ovid's Love gained strength daily in the imagination of Tullia to his prejudice, I endeavoured as firmly to fix in it an opposite character of my own. There did not a day pass, during her absence from Rome, wherein I did not regale her with some novel diversion, or other. I found out a young Graecian, who had a most excellent voice and method in singing, and I presented her to her. I understood she had designed a day of hunting with two or three Ladies more her Neighbours, I met them, as by accident, at their Rendezvouz, with a Pack of Hounds, whose beauty and harmony far excelled any they had with them; and having entertained them with that sport, in a greater perfection than they expected, I gave them a noble Treat, to refresh the pleasant toils they had undergone in the pursuit of it. These obliging Services, my Letters, my discourses, and the resentments of Tullia, which neither the presence, nor diligence of Ovid endeavoured to qualify, wrought the effect I desired. In fine, my Lord, my suit was not displeasing to her; and the first alarm Ovid took of it, was from two or three Strophes, I had composed in the transports of a little debauch, which Tullia was pleased to honour with her presence. I shall repeat them to you, and you shall judge whither he had not some cause to be disturbed. 
Enchanting Circe, Bacchus' Queen divine,  
In whose fair hand a sparkling glass of Wine  
Such charms creates, as ravish with delight  
The glutted sense of human appetite.  
What a rich tincture (that does far outvie  
The Ostrean purple, or the Tyrian die)  
The juice of the Falernian Grape does fix  
Upon the lustre of those glorious cheeks!  
Oh! how those Eyes out-sparkle that? And dart  
Two flaming Globes into my scorch'd-up heart!  
And teach us too that Bacchus has his Charms,  
As well as Love; and does with powerful Arms  
In his Debauches, frolic Beauty store,  
To conquer what, it but attacked before.   
I could wish, my Lord, you had been an eye-witness of the astonishment of Ovid, when by the indiscretion of one of my Guests, he arrived to the knowledge of these Verses, and that Tullia was the Subject of them. He went immediately to give her a visit, and being neither able to give credit to the report of his own senses, nor even the testimony itself of our Mistress; How, Madam? said he to her, Is Tullia the Object of Horace's intoxicated fancies? Did she command him to writ Madrigals for her? Was she sent, at the Bacchanalian Ceremony, when his Goodfellow Muse was dubbed her Laureate? In a word, Does she love Horace? What Mystery have you discovered in this adventure, so worthy your admiration, replied Tullia? Have not the Gods been prodigal enough of their bounties towards Horace, to tender him an Object amiable in the eye of our Sex? And am I the first of Women, whom his charms have surprised? But, Madam, replied my Rival, I have long loved the adorable Tullia, and you have given me leave to believe, that I was not hated of her: But, said Tullia, you neither expressed a concern, nor jealousy towards your Rival; and Love cannot lodge in a breast, out of which those two sensible Guests are banished. Ah! Madam, exclaimed that afflicted Lover, if that were the only reason you could allege for a ground of this extravagant severity, it would have long since vented itself in a thousand reproaches, and so ill-humored a converse have had its abortive birth long before this unhappy Minute: But you never loved me, a real Love does never terminate in so eccentric a Point; not, not, you are not unconstant, this pretended levity, is only the vizard-mark to your real dissimulation. What? have I studied hearts so long, to be ignorant of their character? Can a Mistress, like a Bird out of its Cage, fly from me, and I not see which way she takes her flight? Love, ungrateful Love, get thee another Panegyrist, provide thee another Historian, I am no longer able to trace thee through thy mysterious Meanders, which are as blind as thyself; or, I should more properly say, that thy chiefest Mysteries, are nothing now, but mystic Chimeras. It is in Horace's power to leave Ovid destitute of a Mistress; thou hast not longer established Laws to govern by, since Fortune sits at the Helm, and steers at her pleasure the Fate of Mortals.  
Agrippa found this Exclamation so pleasant, that he was forced to interrupt Horace with a loud Fit of laughter; I am so well acquainted, said he, with Ovid's transports, that, as much a Friend as I am to his concerns, I believe, as you say, his affliction would have proved my diversion, had I been a witness to it.  
It is not possible, my Lord, replied Horace, to represent to you the pleasant extravagancy of it. He thought that the whole Adventure, had been only the abortion of a delusive Dream; he came to me, and asked me seriously, if it were true, that Tullia loved me; and whether it were not only a Project to tender me more obsequious and circumspect for the future; but when, by the air of my countenance, and the cold reception he found from her, he was convinced, that I had usurped the Throne, he had been so long in possession of, he vented his rage in such volleys of imprecations, as better deserved to be inserted in his Work, than all his Elegies.  
Horace could not longer dilate himself on the circumstances of his triumphs; for one of Agrippa's Servants came to advertise his Lord, that he thought the Emperor expected his attendance. They found him with the Ladies in a spacious Meadow, whose flowery head reposing itself betwixt two crystal Arms of Tiber, was crowned with a rich Ballister of white Marble. The Emperor had purposely drawn all the company to that place, to the end they might not discover, that which was preparing to entertain them in another; and having detained them there until the evening, he on a sudden surprised them with the most delightful object their eyes were capable of.  
All Tullia's house seemed to be enclosed in a case of stars, composed by an infinite number of torches, which covered it over, that it resembled a Flaming Castle, raised there extempore, by the force of some Magical Enchantment. The inter-spaces betwixt the lights were formed with read canvas, stamped with divers figures, which by the reflection of torches placed behind it, represented so many flaming Prospects. The Walk of the Gardens were filled with Pyramids, and Figures, raised by the same artifice. And from the top of a high Turret, which crowned the House, at a certain sign the Emperor caused to be given, a thousand hissing Dragons and Serpents took their flight into the clouds, which on every side presented, to the astonished eyes of the Spectators, the glorious name of Terentia in characters of fire and flames.  
But yet this Wonder was no Miracle. The power of Monarches, as great as it is, must subscribe to the Laws of Impossibility: For Caesar had only applied that to this occasion, which he had long before prepared for another; But the Mystery being unknown to the Ladies, Oh! Sir, cried Terentia, the Heavens employ themselves on all occasions to work Miracles for you, and they have certainly some supernatural design in this they here represent unto us. It is rather you, Madam, replied the amorous Caesar, who are so precious to the care of the Gods, as being the greatest Miracle in the whole Catalogue of their Works, who has obliged them to Present us with this Scene of Wonders. The Gods, replied Terentia, do indeed accumulate with their favours, when the hands of the mighty Caesar vouchsafe to distribute them to me.  
These discourses, or the like, having entertained them, till they came to a large Portal, which conducted them into a fair Hall, they passed into it under an odoriferous Arch framed with the beautifullest Flowers, and richest Greene's the Universe could afford, where a Table attended them, laden with the variety of the choicest rarities, wherewith nature could furnish it. A Ball, worthy the Magnificence of Caesar, concluded this Royal Treat, performed by that illustrious Company in a Room wainscoted all round with Looking-glasses of the purest Crystal, which multiplying the Gallantry of so many noble Objects, exhibited divers representations of that, which at that time was singular in the Universe.  
The unexpected Arrival of Aurora, who, ambitious to be a Spectatrix of so glorious a Triumph, peeped in upon them at the Window, prorogued this illustrious Convention: Ten or twelve light Chariots richly gilded and figured, conveyed them back to Rome; Caesar and Terentia mounted one: The Princess and Marcellus, by his command, were placed in another: Tullia, (who would wait upon her noble Guests to the Gates of the City) Fulvia, Varentilla, Agrippa, Horace, the Princess' Maids of Honour, and the Officers of Caesar's Train, sorted themselves, either according to their quality or inclination, whilst Virgil alone, preferring the devoires of an entire friendship, before all the triumphs and delights Tullia's house could satiate him with, followed Cornelius to Tusculum, whither the presence of Caesar had obliged him to retire.  
He was fallen into disgrace with Caesar, and had received a command from him, to absent himself from his presence for ever. He went to Rome to make an humble Address, and was desirous to interest Terentia in his Suit: And to confer with her, he had followed her to Tullia's Villa; but the Emperor's Arrival had prevented his design; and obliged him, as I said before, to retire to some neighbouring place.  
When he saw Virgil, he began to oppose himself, as earnestly as he could, against this demonstration of his generosity and friendship. Return, return, said he, my dear Virgil, to the place where I thought I had left you; and affect not the company of an unfortunate Wretch, whose disgrace may prove contagious. Sovereign's love to see the Acts of their Indignation authorised by the Suffrages of People of Honesty and Honour; and you cast a reproach upon Caesar, when you conserve a kindness for a Man, whom his displeasure has condemned to his eternal hatred. Virgil is not a person so considerable in the Empire, replied Virgil, as to deserve to have Spies to attend his Actions, or Excursions. The Policy, you speak of, concerns only such, as either by their Birth, or Employs, are destined to stand, as living Examples, before the People. And what in a Person of that Remark and Quality would be held for a necessary Prudence, would be condemned as a ridiculous Vanity in one of mine. Your Honour is dazzled by your Modesty, said Cornelius, and you are doubtless more considerable in the Opinion of Caesar, than your own. The Fame of a Poet is oftentimes as necessary to signalise the glory of Heroes, as their own virtue; And those, who now admire the Valour of Achilles, had perhaps never heard of his Name, had not the Pen of Homer eternised it. These kind of Flatteries, said Virgil, intoxicate the Reason, and by asses the Pens of the greatest part of Authors; who fancy themselves to be the Authors indeed of the Fate and Destiny of Heroes and Princes, and murmur against the small regard the World has of their Merits, as a most criminal Injustice. But to frame a right judgement of things, what do we serve for? In what are Princes obliged to us? There was never yet a Poet so audacious, as to arraign the Vices of his Prince living, and with his Sceptre in his hand, at the Bar of Parnassus; and the justest Praises he bestows upon him, are suspected of flattery and vainglory. The contempt, or approbation of great One's, does either depress, or elevate our works; and we sing in vain their glorious Gests, if the Public Memoires give us the Lye. These considerations alone, aught in my judgement, to degrade a flattering Scribbler of all Favour with his Prince, who may acquire more true glory, than his purest Ink can fix upon him, by rewarding him for those good intentions he stands in no need of. I would have a Person of Integrity be just to himself in the first place, give each action its due character, and without shaping one, as much for his own advantage, as his Princes, consider, that he stands accountable for the Power, the Gods have invested him with, to none but themselves, from the first Minute they ranked him amongst Crowned Heads. Would it had pleased Heaven, cried Cornelius, to have imprinted this Maxim in my Soul! I had than still been in possession of my Emperors good grace, and the Government he honoured me with. But the lustre of my place, from whence I stood towering over the heads of other Mortals, did so dazzle the eyes of my understanding, that I could not discern the tract, by which I climbed the dangerous Precipice: and without considering, that not like the Sun, I was myself the Author of those Rays, which my Greatness darted from its glorious Orb, it appeared so boundless to me, that I persuaded myself it was absolute and independent. And whilst a just apprehension contained me within the limits of my duty, I set such a value upon my services, and esteemed them so important, that I fancied they might challenge that injustice for their reward, which was the sole effect of Caesar's bounty. But, said Virgil, interrupting him, what caused you to commit so grand an oversight? The Emperor has always testified so great a kindness for you, that though the Gods had not destined him both for yours, and the World's Master, a Maxim of pure gratitude only aught to have fixed all your endeavours to his service.   

THE HISTORY OF CORNELIUS GALLUS.  
LOVE, my dear Virgil, replied Cornelius, is a weakness, which has always triumphed over the strongest resolutions of the greatest Heroes: That alone has been the Author of my Crime; and from what alone I hope a pardon. You have heard me discourse formerly of a fair Slave, which belonged to the Philosopher Volumnius, and was made free by him, named Cytheris, whom you celebrated, in one of your Ecclogues, under the name of Licoris; and who, I told you, accompanied Mark Antony, when the Malcontent took his last farewell of Rome.  
I have often since declared to you, with what an incredible grief I entertain'n the news of her flight; and you yourself were so sensibly touched therewith, that in one of your Poems, you made your Muse the chief Mourner of the dolorous obsequies of my Love; which aught not in justice to have been so effeminate, since I was only deprived of the sight of an Object, which I could not choose, but adore; for as to a passion, or inclination towards any other person, she was wholly incapable of it; and her Soul was as insensible of the Flames of Antony, as of mine.  
But yet my jealousy could not be convinced of the contrary; and the scorn and indignation, I conceived at the thoughts of another's being preferred before me, joined to the busy Employs of the charge Caesar had conferred upon me, in a short time banished the Idea of Cytheris so perfectly out of my breast, that methought no part of it lurked behind to keep an unquiet possession.  
She was now longer the grief of my eyes, or of my thoughts. I eagerly followed my Sports and Recreations, and without distraction, dedicated myself to the employs of my Charge. Which one day obliged me to assist in person at a Survey, which was taken along the Nilus, for the the facilitating the famous inundation of its fertile Streams: when one of my people came to me, and told me, that in one of the inhabitable Islands, with which that River is chequered all over, was heard the accent of an human Voice; and asked me if it were my pleasure, that some one or other, should go and inform himself of the truth of it.  
The person that brought me this intelligence, wanted not ability for a more important employ; but a secret curiosity, the cause whereof I was ignorant of, possessed me with a desire, to go and make it myself. I took a Bark, and boarded the Island; when I was strangely surprised, for the first Object my eyes were fixed on, was to encounter that same Cytheris, for whom I had had so ardent and so ineffectual a Passion.  
She was a little impaired in her Beauty; and five or six years' space, wherein I had not seen here, is able to change the air of any countenance; but my Heart, through my eclipsed Eyes, discovered her. A sudden transport of joy and fear, which at the same moment invaded my Soul, suggested to me, that it was Cytheris, whom I beheld.  
What new Theseus? cried I out, or rather what inhuman Tiger, has abandoned you in this inhospitable Desert? Dared Mark Antony commit so barbarous a Crime? Or Cleopatra so imperious a cruelty, as to lay such commands upon her effeminate Paramour. And could the tame Gods hold their revengeful Thunder in their hands, and behold the Sacrilege? Mark Antony, replied Cytheris, interrupting me with a fair look, has not been the Arbiter of my destiny; I effected it myself, and shall pursue it to the uttermost period of my life. Ah! Cytheris, said I, ingratude never merited before such glorious expressions. It was enough for you to play the cruel thief, to rob me of my Heart, and carry it in triumph after that Ingrate, without interdicting me the just liberty of reproaching his infidelity. Yqu never had a perfect knowledge of me, replied Cytheris coldly; and your suspicions now are as imperfect, as that was before. I did not follow Mark Antony; he did not abandon me; and if I had been capable of such a weakness for one of the two, perhaps I should not have manifested it in his favour: But a certain repugnance, which at first seemed to have no real foundation, and which since I have discovered too just grounds for, caused me to regard the prosecution of your Amour, as a most troublesome persecution. It was that I fled from; against that did I endeavour to found a Sanctuary. Come, my Lord, Come and take a view of that, the gods have here assigned me, and suffer me quietly to enjoy without the distra●…ion, or turbulent cares of the restless World; which consideration may perhaps convince you, that the love of Wisdom is the sole Passion my Soul has been sensible of.  
As she uttered these last words, she conducted me by a little path, to the most pleasant solitude I ever beheld. The Trees of one continued Wood, which extending their spacious Arms to each other, like one large Umbrella, cover over the surface of the whole Island, seem on purpose to open them in in this place, to frame a delightful Walk for Nature's diversion; which declining by an insensible descent, invites you into a pleasant Meadow, equally divided in the middle by the rapid streams of a Crystal Torrent. Flora, which seemed to have chosen it for her rustic Nursery, had enamell'd it all over with a sort of wild, yet beautiful Flowers, not common in those parts of Egypt; and the industry of a certain old Man, who with Cytheris, and one person more, were both the Subjects, and Sovereign of this charming Desert, had furnished it with all necessaries for the support of human life. There were two or three Cabins, which seeming to be built, more by advice of Nature than Art, with green Boughs and Branches, made but a weak resistance against the inclemency of the Air. There were likewise Beasts both wild and domestic; and a small Tract of Land, which cleansed from Weeds, and other trash, furnished this little Family with Corn, and all other Field, and Garden Provisions.  
I fancied myself to be in one of those enchanted places, described by the Poets; and looking sometimes upon Cytheris, and than upon the old Man (who taking no notice of me, followed, I know not what pudling employment he was than about) I began to rub my eyes, like one, who would endeavour to clear them of some cloud or mist, that was before them.  
You seem to be surprised, my Lord, said Cytheris, observing my astonishment, to see that a treasure as this, lying even in the centre of your Government, and almost at the Gates of Alexandria, should escape your knowledge; To enjoy this without disturbance or contradiction, was it, that I renounced the pompous slavery, you offered me at Rome, and not to follow your Rival. Here neither the rise nor the fall of Empires, creates in my Soul the passions of joy or sadness. Here my liberty is neither attacked by fortune, nor love, and I breathe the air of this ●nhospitable Climate, perhaps with more true satisfaction, than you in all your glory, do that of Alexandria. Here I make a sweet experiment, that the Gods with a prodigal hand shower down all those blessings upon Man, that may tender him happy, when man is so prudent, as to limit his desires within the bounds of of their liberality.  
This excellent discourse begat in me such transports of love and admiration, that I had not the power to Master them. I gave her a thousand tender embraces within my encircling Arms; And o! most divine Creature, said I, worthy the adorations of the whole Universe, Come and restore to it that Miracle, this solitude has unjustly robbed it of. You merit all the Empires of the World, but the Emperor, who has the power to Enthrone you in them, wanting the perfect knowledge of that Virtue, which may entitle you to them; Come at lest and represent in Alexandria the person of a glorious Empress; Come and reign an absolute Sovereign over him, who reigns with absolute authority over the Subjects of the Ptolemy's. Not, not, said Cytheris to me, thrusting me from her with her hand, If the pleasure of the gods had designed me for the place, you propose, they would have elevated me to it themselves; and so established my Ancestors in it, that a just descent should have conferred it upon me, had they not judged this condition more happy for me, to which they have now reduced me. I have spoken to you only yet in the quality of a Lover, answered I, but now you compel me to speak to you, in the quality of the Praetor of Egypt; which obliges me to see Justice duly executed in this Province; and I should infringe this duty, should I suffer a barbarous Island to entomb alive a person, whose virtues declare to me, that she came into the World only to command it. Both as a Lover and a Praetor, said Cytheris, interrupting me, you aught to submit to my william. Love is never unaccompanied with submission, and the Praetor of Egypt has no jurisdiction over a person of my Birth.  
I was very importunate with Cytheris to draw her out of her Solitude, or at lest a clearer discovery out of her, of her intentions. But I was not able to move her to grant either of my requests: she desired me to return again to Alexandria, whither I carried my new re-inkindled Flame, which broke forth with such violence, out of the embers it had bhen so long smothered in, that it was impossible for me to stay there above a day or two, without taking a second Voyage to see her. She showed me all the ordinary employs with which she did divert herself. Volumnius, as you know, is a person generally accomplished with all Sciences: who finding the Soul of Cytheris capable to receive all those noble tinctures, he had a desire to infuse into it, he had rendered her an absolute Mistress in all Philosophical erudition. It was this, which I found so charming in her, when first I began to have a passion for her; and which obliged Volumnius to enfranchise her. To this excellent ornament she had many others; and had as great a care of her education, as if her Birth had been known to him. She spoke naturally the Greek Tongue; played gracefully upon two or three instruments; limned and embroidered in perfection; And the old Man that was with her, had procured all necessaries for her, to keep those admirable Talents in practice.  
Do you not think, said she to me, that these employs are sufficient to entertain with satisfaction and delight the whole course of that momentary being, allowed us here on Earth? And do you believe, that the glories and pleasures of your Rome, or Alexandria, are more really pleasures and glories, than those I enjoy in this solitude? Worldly diversions are the same to the Soul, that shows, or spectacles are to the Eyes. They draw it after them, tyre it, but not revive it; they always leave a vacuum in it, which they cannot fill; and as they continually distracted it with new desires, so do they banish from it all peace and tranquillity. But, Cytheris, cried I, transported with an admiration of her virtue, how could you, being both of a Sex and Age so tender, arrive so early to considerations so solid? And having attained them, cultivate them in so wild a School as this is? Every person, replied the discreet Cytheris, has inherent in himself those necessary principles, by which he may attain to Wisdom. The skilfullest Artificer commits faults enough in his Art, to convince him, he is not infallible; yet those faults themselves lead him to perfection. Allow a man of that degree, modesty, and a desire of knowledge, and you shall tender him wise in his Element. All other sttates of life, furnish those, that are in them, with the like advantages. For my own particular, I have experienced two or three different conditions; I was born a Slave, nor knew I, till after my Enfranchisement, hue far my birth aught to have been removed from so inglorious an obscurity. From whence I learned, that slavery is no real evil, since I supported it without regret; and an illustrious descent no real good, since I possessed it, and yet was not sensible of it. Antony's love was a long time the sole felicity of Cleopatra, but not of Cytheris: And why? because that kind of love has no real commerce with true felicity: if it had, it would have wrought its effects in me, as well as in the Egyptian Queen; but the extravagant imagination and fancy of that Princess, caused her to regard that, as a great good, which mine represented to me, as a greater evil; and those kind of imaginations do created the greatest part of the felicity, or infelicity incident to Mortals. Possess them with the charming sweetness of a private life, and this▪ mediocrity shall tender them more happy than the dazzling lustre of Crowns and Sceptres: Place before them for their Object, Honours and Dignities, and they shall become the prey of an insatiable Ambition. I have made it a long time my chief study, to combat within myself this capricious folly, and I found, that a Sovereign Power, is not so real a felicity, as a power within ones self, to regard the loss of it without regret. Ah! Madam, said I, (for I made no scruple now to give her that title) tell me I beseech you, from what glorious height you have stooped to this humble disguise, that I may pay my due adorations to that virtue, which causes you to despise it. The state of my present being, is subject to great revolutions; fortify it therefore with some eminent example, that if occasion should require, may prove an Antidote for me against the envious Malice of never constant fortune.  
I judged by the motion of Cytheris her countenance, that she was about to satisfy my curiosity, when her companion came in haste to tell her, that Ambiorix (which was the old Man's name) was stung with a venomous Serpent: and that from the knowledge he had of such kind of wounds, he concluded he had not two hours to live. Cytheris grew pale, and running with great distraction to the Cabin of Ambiorix (whither I followed her) Oh! my dear Father, said she to him, What misfortune has arrived to you? Is it as fatal as Phila causes me to apprehended? And is it possible the gods will deprive me of your assistance and conduct? What name was that I heard you pronounce, my Lord? said Virgil, interrupting him; Was it not the name of Phila? I, replied Cornelius, the person, who together with Cytheris and Ambiorix, inhabited that Island, was so called. Oh! my Lord, added Virgil, speak I beseech you, Was not this Maid an Athenian? And did not the Orator Antiochus her Father, to elude the effect of some predictions, which were denounced to him, 'cause her to be privately conveyed into Sicily; And did she not under the name of Plautia, make some sojourn in Rome?  
She is the same, you speak of, replied Cornelius, and whom you so lately mentioned in your recital of Milo's Adventure. She gained an acquaintance with Cytheris in the house, from whence we lately came; where Cicero detained her, as a prisoner, to force her consent to marry him; and near which, his neighbour Volumnius had another. Cytheris putting on resolutions, to quit Rome, for the considerations beforenamed; Plautia conjured her to give her leave to accompany her. They came into Egypt; and this conformity of their fortunes, has combined them together in the bonds of so firm an Amity, that they are still together in some part of the World, which my most curious search cannot discover.  
Oh! my Lord, cried Virgil, let us travel the whole Universe in quest of this place. I can not longer lend attention to your discourse; and can enjoy no felicity in any part of my life, but that I shall dedicated to the search of Phila.  
Would it might please the Gods, said Cornelius, pursuing his discourse, that at the expense of never seeing myself more in the good grace of Caesar, I might hope for a fortunate success of so glorious a quest: I would this very minute commence it; but it has cost me already so many toilsome and unprofitable steps, that I dare not any more attempt it. Yet I request you, not to defer to declare the reasons you have to express so tender a concern for Phila; and I shall willingly refer the rest of my Relation to another season.  
Finish it, I pray you, my Lord, replied Virgil, I beg your pardon for having interrupted it; I was not Master of my sudden transport; but my reason has now re-assumed its Seat, and I entreat you to tell me, what become of the wound of Ambiorix. It proved mortal, as he himself foresaw, said Cornelius; and before it wrought its last inevitable effect, he made a declaration to Cytheris, which, though it charmed not my Love, yet it charmed my Ears: I shall not represent to you, Madam, said he, that your birth challenged for your Grandfather, the renowned King Viridomare, which so long defended the liberty of the Gauls, against the usurpation of the Roman Tyranny: These considerations infuse generally more vanity than true wisdom; and he can entitle himself to essential Virtue, that can only claim it from his Ancestors. But I conjure you to remember, that the Gods have endued you with a firmity of courage, and a solidity of judgement above the ordinary capacity of your Sex: That they have bestowed this Blessing upon you, not without mystery or design; and that they will exact from you a severe account of the Talents, they have given you. I made a faithful promise to the last of the Race, of the Viridomares, your Father, and my Master, to instill into your tender Soul, these laudable Principles. And now I shall dye with satisfaction, since I have so fortunately acquitted myself of my devoir; but yet I have done nothing, unless you crown it with a glorious perseverence. Establish the repose of my Soul after my death, by an invincible magnanimity; conserve yourself always in such a state of Virtue, that you may be always a glory and satisfaction to yourself; And above above all, Remember to keep this Maxim for ever engraved in the centre of your Heart, that you aught to be the Heir of the Sacred, and inveterate hatred of the Viridomares against the barbarous Romans; and that upon this condition, and no other, you received from your dying Father, that Benediction, which Heaven has decreed should propagate the felicity of Children upon Earth.  
These last words concluded his life, and cast Cytheris into an affliction, scarce to be imagined, much lesle expressed. The eminent danger to which this misfortune exposed her, alone, destitute of all relief, or succour, in a wild Desert; and the suggestions of Phila, who represented to her, that after the death of Ambiorix, she aught not to make a longer sojourn in it, without calling her discretion and honour in question, caused her to embrace a resolution of seeking another Sanctuary. I invited her to a house of pleasure, which some of the Ptolemean Kings had built some few miles distant from Alexandria, and the Governors of Egypt had preserved for their own. There I learned of her, that after the death of King Viridomare, who was slain by Marcellus in a single Combat, the Prince his Son, whose Daughter she was, had roved a long time from Kingdom to Kingdom, to implore their aid to recover his own; and seeing that he courted it in vain, he had, contrary to the custom of that Nation, applied himself to the study of Philosophy; That he had made choice of Egypt for his retirement; because learning flourished not where than, but in Greece and Egypt, and he was too well known in the first of the two. That his Queen, who was than great with Child, travelling under the Conduct of Ambiorix, to found him out, had been encountered by a party of the Roman Troops, who made her a Slave, and sold her to Volumnius. That her Father had arrived to the knowledge of her death, without knowing any thing of her being safely discharged of the Burden she went with; and that being most most sensibly touched with this last misfortune, he had confined the mournful Relics of his life to that Solitude, from whence I had lately drawn Cytheris. That a few days before his death, he had been informed by a Slave, which Volumnius used oftentimes to sand to search the Islands of Nilus, for Plants, whose Virtue he was desirous to experiment, That his Wife had left a Daughter behind her, and that Volumnus had caused her to be educated with great care and affection; and that dying, he had strictly charged Ambiorix to omit no endeavours for the regaining his Daughter out of the power of the Romans.  
Ambiorix had with fidelity acquitted himself of this Commission, as I have told you; and fortune so ordering it, that Cytheris should take her secret flight out of Rome, the same day that Mark Antony left it, swelling with revenge and discontent, I was possessed with a jealousy, that Cytheris had accompanied. I am obliged hourly to pay the Gods a million of thanks, Madam, said I to her, when she had ended her discourse, that the veneration and zeal, you express for executing the last commands of your Father, has conducted you into a Province, where my duty obliges me to reside, and gives me now the opportunity to beg your leave to make a new Present to you of that fidelity and service, I devoted to you from the first minute I beheld you. The veneration, said Cytheris, which you interpret to be so favourable to you, includes more than one consideration; and if that which chased me out of Rome, flatters your desires; that which fixes me to a due resentment of my Father's Commands, forbids me to accept the faith of a Roman. You have made too admired a progress, Madam, said I, in the School of Science, to be ignorant, that such resentments are unjust. Hate the memory of Marcellus, who, in giving that mortal wound to the King your Grandfather, gave the first to your dishonour: Hate the name of Julius Caesar, who in conquering the Gauls, deprived you of the succour of all your Allies. But what Crime have I perpetrated? I that was not in being, when those Wars began, & who have ever adored you with a most pure and ardent Passion? This Passion, replied Cytheris, cannot work a Miracle, and make you no Roman, nor me not a Princess of the Gauls; these two qualifications include a formal contradiction to all your desires. The same contempt your Senate affects for the alliance of Queens, do I harbour for all that is not of a Blood Royal. The contempt you harbour, answered I, aught now to be extinct, in all the Nations of the earth. For as now there are none, that do not acknowledge the Power of the Roman Eagles, there are none, that have not espoused the Maxims of their Empire, and we see more Kings solicit now for the honour of her Adoption, than we saw before dispute her Sovereignty. Those Kings did not descend from Viridomare, said Cytheris; if they had, they would have held their Authority and Honour more sacred. And if you desire from me a sincere declaration of my thoughts, I have always had an esteem for your person; I am not insensible of the proofs and marks of your affection; and but too sensible of the despicable state, to which Fortune has reduced me, to fancy myself in a capacity to reject the meanest dignity; yet Royal Blood can never forget the channel from whence it flows; and I should disdain the Nephew of Augustus himself, should he be offered me, under the title of a simple Citizen.  
These words, were so many mortal wounds, both to my Fortune, and my Reason; and though Cytheris pronounced them, to no other end, than to extinguish my ambitious hopes, yet I imagined they taught me the infallible way to triumph over her. I caused myself to be served in the same state, as formerly the ancient Kings of Egypt had been; I assumed their Habit, I commanded my Statue to be erected in divers places of the City, and in fine, committed all those Follies, which have so justly irritated Caesar's indignation against me.  
Cytheris beheld the first Sallies of my extravagancies with grief, and employed all her power to restrain them. But the first error was succeeded by a second. I saw her so sensible of the danger, into which I precipitated myself, that I hoped she would endeavour its prevention, by favouring my desires: and intoxicated with this frenzy, I gave an effuse rein to my criminal audacities. Cytheris observing how I daily run from one extravagancy into another, was willing, I suppose, to stop the mouth of all censures, that might impeach her, of having contributed to them; and so stole one night privately away with Phila, and left me plunged into the deepest abyss of despair.  
I demanded her from those that could not restore her, and threatened such as I suspected, had conveyed her away. I employed in her quest that diligence and authority, Caesar himself would not have made use of, but on some special occasion for the service of the Empire; I exercised unjust cruelties upon such, as I sent after her, and did not bring her back to me. What shall I express more to you, my dear Virgil? I loved even to distraction, and I have lost for ever the glorious object of my hopes. My passion is not unknown to Caesar, and perhaps when he shall understand by Terentia, that Love alone has been the Author of my Offences, he may grant it a Pardon, for what a formal and designed Rebellion could not expect one.  
The end of Cornelius' Relation, had brought them just to the Gates of Tusculum; where he importunately solicited Virgil to acquaint him with the cause of that transport he had observed in him, when he named Phila in his discourse. But such important Concerns occur to us in Rome, that they summon us thither; and we must awhile defer to make it appear, that Virgil did not discourse of Love with such eloquence, without having had some experience of its effects.   
The End of the Third Part.   

THE ILLUSTRIOUS EXILES. The Fourth Part.  

Sovereign's are no lesle sensible of the offences, which touch the Heart, than of those, which wound their Honour, and Authority: And Crassus was as criminal in the eye of Caesar, as the Lover of Terentia, as he would have been, as a Lover of Julia.  
He banished him out of all places, his presence was required in; and that he might not want a pretence to leave Maecenas behind him at Rome, whilst he went to visit Tullia at her Country Villa, he commanded him to see Crassus departed the City, before he returned to it.  
Maecenas was naturally obliging, and he received Caesar's Command with an inward repugnancy; but not daring to disobey it, he endeavoured the best he could to sweeten the bitterness of it. He went himself to found him out, with an intention to comfort him with all the real assurances of his faithful service. But Crassus, whose breast was the Aetna of its own flames, attributing the sight of Maecenas to another cause, prevented his civility by this rough Preface.  
You may spare yourself the trouble, my Lord, said he to him, to declare to me the reasons of this visit, my small skill in Augury can divine them. Caesar, who designs to give me a severe chastisement, for the presumptuous Crime I have committed, in aspiring to the Love of Terentia, has commissioned you to be my Judge. But, my Lord, when you shall understand, by what artifice I was trepan'd, and by what an Ignis Fatuus led to the top of this lubricious Precipice, on which I now stand, you will doubtless express more Compassion, than Passion, for my deluded indiscretion; I must avow, I had not the power not to adore an Object, the Gods had made so Adorable, that this Passion inspired me with desires, that these desires were to be read in my languishing eyes; and that both my eyes, and my tongue, have often pleaded the cause of my Love before her. But I should have confined it within these limits, and perhaps have conquered it too, had not some encouraged it by the flattery of vain hopes and assurances.  
Maecenas was extremely surprised with this discourse; The Emperor had not told him any thing positively of Crassus' Love for Terentia, doubting he might have too jealous an apprehension for the Concern he should express for it, but had made only some slight reflections upon the circumstances of the Combat betwixt him and Ovid.  
He changed colour, when through the indiscretion of Crassus, he came to understand, that either Caesar had been misinformed, or deluded his credulous sincerity. And not knowing on the sudden how to deport himself, whether he had best, like a prudent Husband, to pretend he did not well apprehended him, or else to take the advantage of his error, and endeavour to draw a clearer discovery out of it, of what so nearly concerned him, he continued silent for a while; but at last his curiosity surmounting all other considerations, he suffered this anxious Lover to believe, that in effect the Emperor had totally resigned him up to his just resentments, and that nothing but a candid and ingenuous declaration could qualify them.   

THE HISTORY OF Crassus.  
YOU need not employ either Promises, or Menaces, replied Crassus, to oblige me to make the Declaration you desire; for perhaps my concern and impatience is no lesle to publish it, than yours to hear it.  
I shall not entertain you, with the repetition of the first beginnings of my Love, which is as ancient, as my Reason, and has been devoted to Terentia from the first moment my eyes, or it, were capable of being Judges of Beauty: but my Admiration never took its just Measures, till at the Marriage of Domitius.  
You remember, doubtless, that it was celebrated at Preneste, where the Emperor treated the whole Court three days together: you withdrew yourself one evening from the rest of the Company, and came to take the Air with Terentia into a Garden, where, of one of the closest Walks I was possessed before your Arrival, I did not understand your first discourse, but as you passed under a thick quickset, which did separate us, I heard you say to Terentia.  
You do me wrong, I never loved you more, than at this present; but do you not know that all things have their season? This, too day, is justly due to the visible transports of Domitius: and he would commit an offence both against Caesar, and common custom, should he on the day of his Marriage with the Daughter of Octavia, express a coldness or indifferency. A few days hence the same custom will oblige him to another deportment, not but that he might be the Master hereafter of as much real Love, as at the present, but he could not again have the same opportunity to signalise and applaud the manifestation of it; And nothing is more scandalous to the eyes of indifferent People, than to see a Husband, who might command all seasons to testify his kindness to his Wife, affect to make choice of the Public. Why this Policy, and why these Precautions, said Terentia, interrupting him; Is Conjugal Love a Monster? And is it not a Crime that deserves the loudest reproach, to see a Husband draw a Curtain betwixt the eyes of the World, and his kindness for his Wife, and open it to let in that of another's? And aught that Love, which both Heaven and Honour tender legitimate, to be more shamefaced, than that which both Honour and Heaven declare to be impudent? Not, not, Maecenas, we aught not to accuse Custom for so grand an Abuse: The levity of Husbands is fed from a Spring, which 〈◊〉 within the Confines of their own Lewdness; and 〈◊〉 they establish those Laws at one time, which they abolish at another, it is because their imaginations inspire them with those Ideas before possession, which vanish as soon as their appetites are surfeited.  
You laboured, as I remember, by a thousand endearing Arguments to refute her jealousy, and using a thousand Caresses to pled for you, that her reproaches were unjust, you drew from her expressions so tender, and so passionate, that like Parthian Darts, flying backwards, they wounded the heart they were not levelled at. I felt unusual motions, and being seized at the same instant both with a trouble and transport, I had never been acquainted with before, I stayed a long time after you in the Garden, out of which I came the most Amorous of all Men living.  
You encouraged this Frenzy the next day, in a Treat you dedicated to the same Domitius, and the most noble of the young Roman Knights; I was one of the number, and I could not forbear to express my admiration, that Terentia had the goodness to honour it and us with her presence. Pray do not name a Wife, at this time, said you to me, and call to our Memory those Devoirs, which the liberty of this Assembly aught to efface out of it. When I am amongst you, I imagine, that what is permitted you, is not prohibited me. I give the rain to my Frolicks, I speak and act without constraint: And your expressions admonish me, that I aught to be more reserved. What injury does my Mirth do you? Alas! why do you endeavour to put it out of humour, by upbraiding it with the names of Husband and Wife?  
●…was not the sole Person in the Company, that ●…us'd her quarrel against you, and told you, that such a Wife as Terentia, aught always to be the fixed Object of your thoughts. This opposition exasperated you, and you made a Satirical Invective against Marriage and its dependences. Not one of your Arguments escaped my memory; and the next day I framed a Dialogue in Verse, which I entitled, THE JVSTIFIYED WIFE; wherein I demonstrated, that the tepidity of Husbands did authorise and justify the levity and infidelity of their Wives towards them. I never pretended to a Talon in writing, but that of Poetry, is one of the first Miracles, Love works in us. Terentia finding these Verses in one of her Pockets, into which I had privately conveyed them, and reflecting that Ovid had the day before sustained the same Maxims at Sulpicia's, conceited him to be the Author of them. She found him at the Princess Julia's Apartment, whither I had the honour to wait upon her; where she told him railingly, that he was formidable enough to Husbands in the merit of his own Person, without the addition of his poisonous Maxims. Ovid, who called to mind the late conversation he held at Sulpicia's, was obliged to make a direct Answer to Terentia's imputation: which, the more it was pressed upon him, the greater confusion it involved him in: For the same Morning he had sent Sulpicia a Copy of Verses on the same Subject. And thinking that she had lent them to Terentia, satisfied himself to tell her pleasantly, that he was glad to see Ladies applaud Lovers in the method of their Addresses. This owning of a Work, which I thought Ovid was obliged to deny, filled me with indignation. May a Man presume, Madam, said I to Terentia, to beg a sight of Ovid's Maxims? I am yet but a Novice in the Art of Persuasion, and should be happy to receive the first Rudiments of that glorious Science, from so famous a Master. Let Ovid, said Terentia interrupting me, give you what instructions he pleases; but you must excuse me, if you receive them not from my hands; and I have put myself out of a capacity of committing the obligation you desire; for I have committed the Verses already to flames, you beg the sight of. You must give me leave, Madam, replied Ovid, to doubt the reality of what you express; for had you destined them to that punishment, you would have inflicted another upon yourself, which was not to divulge it; and one is seldom guilty of burning that, which he religiously cherishes in his thoughts and memory.  
This conversation was urged so far, and its intricate obscurity found my spirit so ill disposed, that it extracted poison out of every flower of it. I fancied Ovid was my Rival; and that he had prevented me in my design of persuading Terentia to turn a fair Rebel to conjugal Sovereignty. A thousand actions, which till than I regarded with an eye of indifferency, and in effect were no other, now represented themselves to me in another shape. Ovid could not exhibit her the lest testimony of a respect, which I did not interpret as a testimony of Love: nor could she allow him a favourable word, which I did not construe for a remarkable favour, one day in the grand Cirque he dropped a piece of a Letter, which I catched up; wherein I imagined I read that, which certainly was not there, I could not disguise the rage this error engrafted in my jealous thoughts. I become his opposite in all things; I spoke as little good of him, as ill will could afford: And when I raillied him, I did it with that vehemency and roughness, which failed but little sometimes of being the rude Ushers of a quarrel. Terentia took notice of it; and one day coming forth of the Empresses Apartment, as I was leading her to her Chariot, Are you, said she to me, Ovid's Rival? Or is there some other cause for the animosity, I observe, you have, for him? You pike him upon things the most indifferent; and always make your contradictions, the answer to all his assertions. I beg your pardon, Madam, said I, there is one assertion I never yet durst contradict, and we both agreed that you are the most glorious beauty of the Universe. It was not a piece of Gallantry, I demanded of you, replied Terentia, but the cause of your contests with Ovid. You have divined it, Madam, said I, we are Rivals. And may one make so bold, as to ask, replied Terentia, who this beauty is, that is worthy to be the object of so noble a Rivalship? The most glorious of the Universe, Madam, said I This phrase is familiar to all Lovers, answered your beautiful Spouse, who persuade themselves, that the common opinion aught to be led in triumph after theirs; and ascribe the highest attributes of beauty, to that, which they Idolise in their own imaginations. But that I may be the more capable of judging, whether your Mistress does really merit that title, or whether you do not take a prospect of her perfections through the optic of fancy only, I pray acquaint me with her name. I have named her already, Madam, said I; and the distinction I made of that, wherein I agreed or disagreed with Ovid, has imparted you the whole secret. Terentia had a piercing judgement and my languishing regards were no fit Sophisters, to delude it, She on a sudden eclipsed the lustre of those divine looks with a frown, which as often yet as I think upon it, darts a horror thorough all my veins; and briskly mounting into her Chariot, left me in such an agony and confusion, that I had not the power to move out of the place. You came a little after, and surprised me in my ecstasy: and seeing me in that posture, leaning against a Pillar, my countenance changed, and my body almost as immovable as the Marble, that supported me. You did me the honour to ask me, what it was, that had reduced me to that condition. I know not what answer I made you, but it was doubtless a very extravagant one; for you presently burst forth into a loud laughter, and asked of some persons about you, if you had not the Mine of a very cruel Lady. These words recalled my reason; and fearing I had inconsiderately divulged the whole secret, I followed you towards the Emperor's Lodgings, with an intent, if possible, to repair so dangerous a fault: when I soon perceived by the air of your countenance, that you had not discovered it. You began to raillie me with a liberty, you could not have dispensed with, had my indiscretion betrayed my offence to you, and in obliging terms begging the honour, that I would make you my Confident, you made me a tender of your faithful service. Alas! I had need enough of it; for never Lover was treated with such rigour, as I experienced from the incomparable Terentia: She intercepted from me all opportunities of speaking to her; she avoided all occasions of giving me her hand. I followed her to the Temples, to the Gardens, to the Empresses, to the Princess' Apartments. I could not surprise one regard from her; and if at any time forgetting herself, she so much relaxed of her severity, as to suffer her eyes to bestow a glance upon me, she would dart such flashes of indignation and disdain from them into mine, that now the best of my hopes wandered but like wild Borderers, on the brinks of despair. Phedra perceived the visible marks of it, and gave me to understand, they had not escaped her curiosity. She would put her hand before my eyes, when she saw them too intentively fixed upon her fair Mistress. She would speak things before me, which I might apply, as counsels to myself. One night Terentia having lost at the Princess Octavia's Lodgings a Diamond-button, which her train hung in; Restore it, if you have it, said Phedro to me in my ear; every thing that belongs to Terentia, participates of the Magic of her eyes; and you need not add another dose, to the effects of their powerful charms. These overtures of an ingenuous confidence, engaged mine. I was one day in the Temple of Concordia, where your fair Spouse did offer Sacrifice. Phedra, who attended her, pretending that the Sun incommoded her, came and placed herself by me, and asked me softly, If I were come thither to supplicate the Goddess, to reconcile the difference which was betwixt my heart and my reason. They are not at variance, said I: And my reason is so far from controlling the desires of my hear, that it daily more and more convinces me, that the glorious Terentia is the only person in the world, worthy of its Adorations. These are glorious words, replied Phedra with a smile; but amongst persons of sound judgement, they weigh but little. When a Love disquiets the repose, changes the countenance, and may, perhaps, ruin the Fortune of a Man, Reason does not approve it. Alas! How ●…ould it? Are you ignorant, what Terentia is? What the Merit? What the Credit of Maecenas? Ovid is ignorant of none of this, said I interrupting her, and yet he presumes to love Terentia; and, if I am not deceived, is not hated by her. Ovid? replied Phedra, surprised with a seeming astonishment. I, Ovid, said I, Lovers are linx-eyed; and the felicity of that Rival may triumph over my stars, but not my knowledge: It is for him, that I am despised; it is to him, that my despair is sacrificed.  
I could not proceed any farther in my complaints, the Ceremony ended, and Phedra was obliged to attend Terentia; but I retrieved her again the same evening upon the banks of Tiber, where the Empress, and the whole Court, were diverting themselves, for the benefit of the fresh air.  
Your jealousy is not without reason, said she to me, as soon as I approached her. Ovid is beloved of Terentia, and this obstacle will accompany all others, your Love shall encounter. I thought this morning to have acquainted you with some circumstances, but since you could reap no advantage by them, I forbore to mention them: serve yourself of this, I now offer you; and handle it, as the most useful weapon, to vanquish your Passion. Vanquish it! said I, Oh? Phedra, it is invincible. I have not delayed till now, I have long since summoned all my Forces together to combat it; there is nothing another could say to me, which I have not said to myself. But after a thousand attempts, a thousand effects upon myself, one look, one word, one thought of Terentia, has in an instant baffled all my strongest resolutions. And I found, that the Gods have given me a Soul to no other end, than to make it her Slave and Vassal to the last moment of my 〈◊〉. Has Terentia than, said Phedra, ingross'd to herself alone all the charms of her Sex! She has beauty; and he that should deny it, would forfeit his reason: But do you think, that agreeableness of humour, vivacity of wit, and gaiety of converse, are to be found in none of the Sex but her? I know not, said I, what may be found in another, but in Terentia alone my heart expects to found its entire repose and felicity. Assist it, generous Phedra, assist it, to achieve it, added I, pressing her hand tenderly betwixt mine; you have both address and credit, employ them, I, beseech you, to save the life of an unfortunate, wretch, who resigns himself up wholly to the auspiciousness of your conduct. All that I sue for at the Shrine of that adorable Deity, is only a permission to Love, and to declare it. Let her confine this Love to the most scrupulous terms, the narrowest bounds, rigour can invent. Let it lie and languish at her feet in vain, after the meanest favours; it shall consent to any thing, so it may be licenced only to own itself before her. Is this a grace of too high a merit, to be implored? And must I despair ever to obtain it?  
I observed that Phedra changed colour oftentimes during my discourse, which at this place she interrupted with a deep sigh, and not able to suppress some rebellious tears, which against her consent started in a shower of Pearls out of her eyes; you are an Ingrate, said she to me, with a voice quite altered from its ordinary accent; and you might have perceived, how improper a person I am for the Employ you design me. I should not have presumed to have pried into your Love for Terentia, nor endeavoured to have gained the opinion of deserving to be made your Confident, had you been so indifferent to me, as to oblige me to have lent you the assistance you desired. Recall to your memory my words and my actions; take a re-survey of my languishing eyes, and my distracted countenance; and reflecting with shame upon your past insensibility, employ me not more, but in what you may oblige me, as I have endeavoured to oblige you.  
How? cried Maecenas aloud, was it Phedra that made you these forward overtures of Love? do you not misname her for another? and may I give an entire credit to your words?  
Reserve your admiration, my Lord, said Crassus, for its due season and place; you are not yet arrived to that, which aught more justly to challenge your exclamations. These astonishing expressions, which I could not in reason be accused for not foreseeing, surprised me with so much confusion, that it imprinted its lively effects in Phedra's cheeks, who observed it in mine.  
She left me with eyes inflamed with shame and despite too, as I imagined; and adding herself to the company of some Ladies of the Empresses train, abandoned me to the liberty of ruminating upon my adventure: which I considered as environed with so many perplexities and dangers, that I knew not what course to steer, to avoid the rocks that threatened my shipwreck. I was not ignorant either of the credit, Phedra held in your Family, or what a monstrous species of fury, a Woman's malice, that sees her Love despised, does swell to. I apprehended some funest effect of her revenge; and yet I was neither capable to entertain, or sergeant a passion, that might secure me from it: These various reflections did for four or five days tyrannize over my distracted Soul. And seeing Terentia's cruelty and disdain daily increase, I had a desire to try, if absence might not prove a cure, or at lest an antidote, against so many contagious evils. This design was not sooner framed, but assaulted on all sides with mournful suggestions, doubts, and incertitudes. My reason had not sooner said, I will, but my heart answered, I will not. I could harbour no rest in my eyes, no quiet in my breast: But reason at length triumphed over irresolution, and I gave the necessary Orders for my departure; when, as I was going to beg the Emperors leave to accompany Lentulus to the Getish War, a Moorish Slave, who I knew belonged to Phedra, came and delivered me a Billet from her. I imagined it had been fraught with new and troublesome declarations of her Passion; and not willing to answer it, I thought to have returned it, without reading: But a consideration of the respect which was due to a person of Phedra's Sex, qualifying all others, I opened it, and found these Lines. Will you go, you too hardhearted, and too charming Ingrate? Is neither the consideration of my tender passion of the pleasures it is capable to afford you, nor that of my death, which shall certainly follow you, able to divert your sullen resolutions? Alas! I must change my bottom, and steer a new course. I promise' you all my interest, all my credit, with Terentia. Allow them that time only, which shall be necessary for them to operate their effects in. This will be a dangerous enterprise, and cost me dear, but yet your absence would be a much dearer purchase to me. And I had rather for ever endure the malignant aspects of your ingratitude with the enjoyment of your sight, than hope to forget them, by being deprived of it.  
Was there ever any resolution, my Lord, so firm, that such an attach would not shake the foundation of? I ran to the chamber of Phedra, and said to her, all that either my Love, or my Acknowlegments could dictate: I cannot promise' you said I, that your rare goodness has conquered my passion; I should be guilty of a grand untruth, should I flatter you with the hopes of such a Miracle: But I assure you of a friendship so pure and so tender, that were there a veil drawn before the secrets of my heart, you would mistake it for Love. The amorous heats of persons of my age, are generally, like Passengers, fixed no where; and draw after them a train of more real discontents, than pleasures. Let you and I combine our hearts in the solid link of a more durable union. You shall ever be the object of my whole esteem, and honour me always with yours. This is the only Love, which is neither subject to discontent, or change. Phedra blushed, and with her languishing eyes seemed to beg another kind of union; but again confirmed the promises, she had made me in the Ticket she sent me, and I had a few days after some ground to believe, that she was just both to them, and me.  
I found Terentia's eyes disarmed of their flaming darts; she suffered me to pay my attendance on her in the Gardens of Lucullus: she addressed some discourse to me, which though it treated only of things indifferent, did transport me beyond myself with joy and content. What Miracles have you wrought already? My dear Phedra, said I, when I had the opportunity to discourse her in private: The Gods have blest your generous designs, and the most obdurate rigour of Terentia, is not able to hold out a two day's siege against your batteries. What am I able to perform, that may merit a service of this importance? Do not intercept from me the means of continuing it, replied Phedra; you were never yet well acquainted with the humour of Terentia; it includes as many Mysteries, as her Person Beauties: you must discover nothing to her, but give her leave to conjecture your intentions. And this was the tract, by which Ovid arrived at that favour, he aspired too: which you must likewise take, if you hope to attain to it: Let your Love employ all its faculties, but its tongue, and leave to me the care of interpreting your silence not to your disadvantage.  
This counsel was the more difficult for me to obey, in regard Terentia reassuming her former frankness and gaiety of humour in conversing with me, furnished me with a thousand occasions of breaking the uneasy bonds of my imposed silence. But Phedra, whose eyes were two watchful Spies over me, disappointed them all. She would cast terrible frowns at me; she would interrupt me, upon a bore apprehension, that I was going to give my tongue liberty to discover my thoughts; and never suffering me to be the Master of my own conduct, would force me to observe the Laws she had prescribed me, maugre all my attempts to violate them.  
I framed a complaint one day of the violence she offered me in a passionate Letter to Terentia, which I delivered to Phedra for her, which she assured me she had obliged her to read; I seconded that with another, to which I received a Billet of three or four lines in answer. Phedra promised me, that in a little time she would effect greater things for me. And a little after, a Ticket was directed to me, which summoned me to a nocturnal assignation. Phedra brought it, and when I had read it, Well, said she, have I not now, think you, dearly purchased your stay in Rome? And do you not comprehend, that at the rate I have bought it, how precious a value I have for it? I never yet doubted your goodness, my dear Phedra, answered I; and I conjure you to believe, that there are no acknowledgements within my power, which I shall not sacrifice to it. Dispose of my life and fortune; exact the strongest proof imaginable from a friendship, which ambitions nothing more, than so glorious a test. But, my Lord, replied she, interrupting me with a languishing look, do you think that this friendship, as perfect as you decipher it, is capable to enable me to serve you, as I do, with tranquillity and repose? You employ my diligence, you require convincing proofs of it; and from my hand you receive an assignation, from her you adore; what could your revenge, or your hatred, commit more barbarous, or more cruel? My dear Phedra, said I, sensibly touched with this reproach, Would Heaven had given me the same command of my heart, as it has given you of yours, I should than have sacrificed it to the same Deity you do. But alas! I am an unfortunate wretch, who has no power left him, but to fill your ears with complaints against the severity of his destiny; to arraign himself before you of ingratitude, and offer up his life too, if you require it, in expiation of his crime. You offer but little, replied Phedra, with a sigh, in offering so much; and you are assured, that your life is but in small danger, if that be the only sacrifice you intent to offer to the Deity you mention.  
In saying this, she led me to the Cypress Walk; into one end whereof, there is a private descent by a back pair of Stairs out of Terentia's Closet. She told me, that when you were go at night to wait upon the Emperor in his Bedchamber, one should come for me, when she left me; and by the Stairs I named, conduct me to the Room, where Terentia should honour me with the interview, I so much desired.  
Do not disturb yourself, my Lord, said Crassus, seeing Maecenas change colour; for nothing was performed, of what was promised. I stood Sentinel two long hours at the foot of a Cypress Tree; the lest motion whereof, made me shake, like the trembling leaves over my head, and struck a panic terror into my Soul: when at length there came one to me, and told me, that you were engaged at Play with Prince Marcellus; that you did not go that night to wait upon the Emperor, and that our Assignment was to be adjourned to the next day. I laid a thousand imprecations upon the first Inventors of Gaming, and the practice of it. I threw as many more at my Stars, and went raving towards the place, where you were at play, hoping at lest to purchase a view of Terentia in public, which was denied me in private. This expectation was no more successful, than the former. Terentia was retired, and I was scarce entered, when one of her Slaves came, and whispering Ovid aside, who was looking upon the Gamesters, conducted him to her Lady's Chamber.  
I am well acquainted with all the transactions of that night, replied Maecenas; and if you take your measures from thence, your suspicions are chimerical, and you aught to efface them out of your thoughts.  
They are effaced already, my Lord, said Crassus, and I am as well satisfied at the present, as yourself, touching the design for which Terentia sent that night for Ovid; but I was than ignorant of it; and only apprehended, that he was favoured with the Assignation, which was promised me: that the appointment was broken with me, to befriend him; and that my just resentments of so inhuman an affront was designed only to advance the triumph of my Rival. I went to seek out Phedra, to make my complaint to her; but I could found her neither in her own Chamber, nor in any of her Companions; I thought she might have been go into the Garden, to look after me, and advertise me of what had fallen out. I hastened thither, after I had made many turns in vain about it, at last I perceived Ovid descending by those Stairs, which I had been told, was the private Road of favoured Lovers.  
Can you wonder, my Lord, if I retained not the lest spark of sound judgement or reason, in a circumstance so capable to deprive me of it; and if I endeavoured to revenge upon Ovid, a treachery, which I could not call Terentia to an account for.  
Phedra writ to me the next morning, and highly blaming me for the rude alarm, I had given her Lady's honour, assured me that it would utterly ruin me in her good opinion; and that I should despair hereafter of ever receiving the lest favour from her: Did it not become me, either to cast out Complaints, or Menaces? That a real Love was always attended with a zealous fear and submission. I ran to Phedra's Chamber, to conjure her either to obtain a pardon for me, or a sentence of death: She was go to Helvidia's, and her Moorish Slave left me in hers, whilst she went to call her. I was not than in an humour to delude either my time or thoughts, with the search after Curiosities; but, I know not what secret impulse moved me to cast my eyes upon an Escritoire, which stood open by me; I examined it, and found in it a Letter, which at the first sight, I imagined to be Terentia's writing. I opened it: But my Lord, How great was my astonishment, when by the Style, and the Subscription, I found it to be Phedra's. She gave therein an account of a Suit the Lacedæmonians had than depending at Court, which I knew, had been recommended to her. She magnified it in the favours you honoured her with, her credit, her expectations; and in fine, gave herself so natural a character, that I had never known her before, but through a disguise. I pulled the Ticket and Letter out of my Pocket, which I imagined Terentia had sent me, I compared it with that I had in my hand. The Writing was much like; and to evince all my scruples, I found in the same Cabinet, an Order to Phedra, written with your Wives own hand, which spoke in the language of a Mistress to a Servant, and convinced me by the difference of the Character, that it was none but Phedra, who had written to me. What a Thunderclap was this to a man, who was totally absorbed in a deluge of Love, and believed himsef to be fixed in his Mistress' favour. Oh! Phedra, cried I, as soon as I saw her enter, you have trepan'd me, by a horrid act of treachery. See here irrefragable testimonies to cast you; that under a pretence of an unfeigned Passion, which you suborned to delude me, have exposed my credulity to the rude treats of your Malice.  
I was able to say no more to her; for the confusion I saw her in, had converted all my suspicions into certitude; which raised mine own to such an height, that it even conglutinated my Tongue to the Palate of my Mouth. When the first pangs of this Agony were passed, and from a Marble Pillar that propped me up, I cast a glance upon the eyes of Phedra, which by the torrent of their tears, and their dejected bashfulness, confirmed the Sentence of my misfortune; False and ingrateful Phedra, said I to her, outraged with grief, What inhuman crime am I guilty of towards you, that you should reduce me to the most deplorable state, that humanity itself was ever forced to groan under? Was I culpable, because your eyes thought me charming? Did I abuse your facility? Did I encourage your passion, or expose it to public scorn? In fine, What barbarism have I committed, that could induce you to commit so many Treasons against me? You would have left me, replied she, and I had not resolution enough to support your absence. I borrowed the credit of Terentia, where I saw mine own insufficient. The invisible Powers above, are my Witnesses, that I have not been wanting to any one particular of those devoirs, I engaged to you; and that repugnant to the impulse of my own forcible inclinations, I would have sacrificed them to your felicity, had it centred in me. But Terentia was inexorable, and you resolved to leave Rome: What could an unfortunate Woman do? who, influenced by the fatality of her Stars, regarded your absence as the most cruel of all torments. But, said I, Terentia's rigour is mollifyed, she speaks to me, and denies me no marks of a visible esteem. To what Magic, or Fancy, do I own this? To a Fancy, replied Phedra, I have suggested to her, that you had withdrawn your love, and rendering yourself to my importunities, addressed those Vows to me, which were so displeasing to her. And I myself conceived the vain hope to induce you one day to approve so chimerical a change. I flattered myself with the thoughts of obtaining that by a sense of gratitude and compassion, which your inclination could not grant me; and to gain time to accomplish my design, I made use of the dexterity, I have, in writing two different hands. And seeing the more Sacrifice my Love offered to you, the lesle sensible you were of it, I resolved to own that to a Stratagem, which I could arrive to by no other means. I would have supplied the place of Terentia, at the appointed Assignation, and in order to it, had disposed all things for the best advantage to deceive you. I would have spoken to you from within a Glass Alcove; from which you should have been placed at such a distance, that you should not have been sensible of the cheat. But Love, tyrannic Love, denied me even that imaginary satisfaction, of raising your transports under the notion of another. For Terentia had cloistered herself up all the time in that unlucky Closet, which I had designed for our Converse. What severer punishment could you wish Heaven to inflict upon me, than that whereof I myself am the fatal Instrument? I love, without hopes of being loved again. I have betrayed the confidence of a Lady, which has highly obliged me. I have hazarded her reputatition, the honour of Maecenas, your own life and fortune. And I have purchased nothing in compensation of so many Crimes, but the assurance of being loathsome and odious to you. Cruel one! can you so much forget Man, and receive a Tiger in your Bosom, as to object to me yet your unworthy reproaches? And is the antipathy, you have conceived against me, so inveterate, that the sense of my sufferings will never be able to extinguish it? I scarce heard these last passionate expressions, for I turned hastily away from her, to go seek out Terentia: and imagining that nothing could be of more tragical consequence to me, than the errors, Phedra had treacherously involved her in, I would have run all hazards, to have dispossed her of it. But since my encounter with Ovid, she has always so sedulously addicted herself to Caesar, to calm his indignation, that I could never gain a moment's time to entertain her, I judge that Phedra has not neglected, that, that I allowed her; and considering, what an opportunity, I had to ruin her, has prevented me. But, my Lord, let her not triumph over my misfortune, and in her glorious Treason. Alas! without its artifice, I had designed to remove myself from Terentia's presence; and to go into the Field, and there oppose the effeminate attacks of Venus with the rough Arms of Bellona; nor ever to see Rome more, till Mars had been my Physician, and cured my distemper. But the fraudulent Phedra has traversed my design; and to satisfy the fancy of her capricious Love, which her Reason aught to have surmounted, gave the occasion of that tumult and disorder, you saw the Court in. It was she, who by fomenting my jealousy against Ovid, was the instrument of that great People banishment. But time has at length convinced me, that my suspicions were groundless, and that Phedra did only raise them, to be an obstacle to my Passion: But had they not been unfortunately confined by my encountering Ovid in the Garden, that Noble Personage might have been at this hour in Rome; Caesar free from all resentments of jealousy, or revenge, and Marcellus in repose; and you, yourself, my Lord, ignorant perhaps of the secret designs, I formed, to attack the Royal Fort of Terentia's heart. Guard yourself from a fury so fertile in fatal inventions, and assuring yourself, that she may act one day as much against your interest, as you see, she has done of late against mine, preserve Terentia and yourself from the Artifices of so deluding a Sorceress.  
This discovery and preadmonition had already produced the most cruel effects in the heart of Maecenas, as it was capable to comprehend. He passionately affected Phedra; and his Love was the more violent, in that he concealed it as a secret, from the eyes of the world. He resented with an incredible dissatisfaction, the injury his Passion had received from the ingratitude of this false one. And more enraged against Crassus, for the innocent attempt he had made upon the heart of his Mistress, than the criminal one he had formed against that of his Wife, he executed Caesar's Orders with a rigour not suitable to the sweetness of his natural temper. Crassus' was astonished, and could not forbear to tell him, that he aught either to treat him with lesle mildness, or execute his Commission with lesle authority. Maecenas would not vouchsafe to return him an answer; and understanding that Phedra had not accompanied Terentia to Tullia's Villa, he ran, transported with jealousy, towards the Chamber of that ungrateful one; but was intercepted by the way by the Philosopher Volumnius, who was a Man in high reputation for his learning and wisdom, and in particular esteem with Maecenas, whom he acquainted, that he was come not only to wait upon him, but likewise to entertain him with a Novelty of importance. They retired together into a Closet, and when they were alone, what an Age do we live in? My Lord, said the Philosopher, the debauchery of Wit and Manners, triumphs over all Laws, contemns the counsels and advice of wisdom, and converts into tears of compassion the unregarded documents of Prudence. Ovid, who has received so many graces both from Caesar, and you; Ovid so capable of all excellent notions and knowledge, if he would apply himself to them; Ovid, in a word, to whom I have been so prodigal of my richest instructions, has betrayed both Nature's designs, and mine. Behold here, my Lord the Legacy he bequeathed me some few days before his Thalassian journey, and banishing all spirits of this character from the Court, acquit yourself with honour of the trust, Caesar has reposed in yours. Finishing these words, he put into Mecoenas' hand a little Cabinet of Cedar, which Ovid, coming from Domitius' house had left behind him, rather through oblivion, than design of his. Maecenas opened it, and the first Paper that came to his hand, contained the following Verses. 

An Explication of the Pictures which adorn the Gallery of Domitius.  

For LIVIA.  
Out-braving Marriage-Faith, and Sacred Laws,  
I triumph over Hymen with applause,  
And with the reinss of an unbridled Power  
Commanding Rome, and Rome's great Emperor,  
What she, though ne'er so virtuous, or so fair,  
Is that, who dares herself with Me compare?   

For JULIA.  
You see in Livia, what Grandeur can do;  
Commit grand faults, and justify them too.  
But Fate, whose maxims ne'er comply with time,  
Has new State-principles for me in store,  
And has decreed it for my greatest crime,  
To be the Daughter of an Emperor.   

For TERENTIA.  
Sculptors, Historians, Painters, Poets, cease  
TO employ your Pens, or Pencils, to express  
My Fortune, Charms, or Life: the world you know,  
Does seldom prove so just, as to bestow  
An equal character, on what so rare,  
And worthy of its envy, does appear.   

For VARENTILLA.  
My Charms were once so powerful, and my Wit,  
I hoped t' have made the Universe submit  
Unto my Laws; but those I'd heretofore,  
Have now not more their lustre, nor their power.   

For TULLIA.  
The Author nothing has to say of me,  
But that for to be brief, he'll silent be.   

For SULPICIA.  
Spectator, if thou dost desire to see  
The Portraiture of Rome's austerity,  
Cast on some other, and not this, thy eye;  
But if thou hast the curiosity,  
To found the Soul here of a Man of honour,  
This is the piece: fix thy regards upon her.     
What manner of speaking is this, said Volumnius? Is the Soul of a Man of Honour capable to make a Woman of Honour? That which the World entitles a Man of Honour, does glory to be gallant, and favoured of Ladies; but contrariwise, a Woman of Honour declines the intriqus of Gallantry, and regards Chastity and Modesty as the two Pillars that support all the other virtues of her Sex. What can Ovid mean by the expression than? but that Sulpicia ambitioning only the qualities of a Man of Honour, did not pretend to those of a Woman of Honor. What Licentiousness? What Malice is this? I will wager, that Ovid would not have said this of the Wife of Tisienus, but in revenge of that severity, which of all virtues in a Woman, he ever expressed the lest esteem for.  
Whilst Volumnius was intent upon his Philosophical Ratiocinations, Maecenas was not lesle on his Poetical diversions: And after divers Copies of Verses of the same character, he lighted upon a piece of Prose, the first leaf whereof he could not read without smiling, and asked Volumnius whether he had well examined the Papers he had brought him. I examine them? My Lord, replied the Philosopher, the Gods defend me from blasting my soul or my eyes, with reading such not lesle dangerous, than scurrilous vanities; I only lightly perused the Verses which concerned the Empress, and seized with the horror of their blasphemies, came in haste to deliver the Criminals up into your hands. I have supplied the defect of your curiosity, replied Maecenas, smiling all the time; and that your zeal may not want its just recompense, I will teach you how far it has transported you: and in saying this, he began to read the Paper out aloud.   

OVID's Apology.  
I here pronounce the Sentence of Condemnation upon all, the Public lays to my charge. I ingenuously confess, that I have always abandoned my Soul to its own licentious inclinations, dedicated all the faculties thereof to the enjoyment of the voluptuous pleasures of Love: And as the full satisfaction of the senses does smother and extinguish the light of reason, the charms of Love caused me to forget and slight the due consideration I aught to have had of the indispensable Laws: but nature and myself are not guilty alone of this crime, Men have contributed more to it than the Stars; and the false wisdom of Volumnius did inoculate the first grafts of this folly into my Soul.  
How? my Lord, interrupted Volumnius, has that scandalous Satirist assigned me a place too in his Sessions? What matter is't, answered Maecenas gravely, a great Philosopher as you are, aught not to be moved at the liberty of a Poetical extravagance, and continuing his reading,  
All the world, (went he on) knows this Volumnius: I entertained an esteem for him upon the report Fame published of his wisdom; and being prepossessed with his character, I had a sensible esteem likewise for all, that he expressed in relation to me. I could not without trouble digest his Censures upon my Treatise, de Arte Amandi: I went to visit him, with design to have some conference with him. What would you have with me, said he, as soon as he knew my name: I am the scourge of the voluptuous, the censurer of worldlings, and the confounder of the proud. Have these qualities any Alliance with yours? And can it be possible, that one Bond of commerce or friendship, can combine Ovid and Volumnius together? It is so possible, replied I, without seeming to be moved, that if you were not what you are, and that I were not what I am, I would have nothing to do with you; what need have those, who are in perfect health, of a Physician? And who would address himself to the wise, if he could furnish himself with those Maxims and Instructions he comes to demand of them? It is my part, who am wholly destitute of those Goods and Richeses, to beg a supply of them from you. Vouchsafe than to impart some of them to me, and declare to me, if you please, by what Arguments you pretend to extirpate Pride and Voluptuousness out of the World. By reason, replied Volumnius with a serious gravity, I shall need to borrow none but from her, to convince a reasonable Creature of their brutality; and that alone I grounded my Thesis on, when I demonstrated, that your Art of Loving, was a contexture of pernicious Maxims, an Academy of all Vice, and a visible depravation of the Faculties of the Soul.  
I raised my voice at this definition, and looking upon Volumnius with an eye of admiration, how? said I, Is the Art of reducing into practice the reason of a Man, an Art opposite to reason? And do I deprave the Faculties of the Soul, when I teach Men the perfect practice of that, which is the visible mark of their Being? The visible mark of their Being, exclaimed Volumnius: Do you call that a Being, which according to your own Maxims, has no existence but in another? Do not you engage a Lover to live more in that, which inspires him with a Passion, than in that, which inspires him with a Being? Do not you make his health, his joy, his repose, and oftentimes his honour, to depend upon the person he loves? And has not a Being a more noble dependence than this? And have not I than reason to conclude, that your Art of Loving, teaches a Man the Art to return again to his first Nothing, from whence the Gods have been pleased to draw and extract him?  
This way of reasoning, as extravagant as it was, seemed to me very pleasant and subtle; and caused me to have an esteem for his wit, though I could not relish his Maxims. I prayed him to infuse into me as sensible a gust of his Maxims, as they had done already an esteem of his Learning. But I am afraid you will found it, said I ingenuously, a talk of more difficulty than you apprehended; for I never yet found any solid pleasure or satisfaction in any thing, but a reciprocal Love, which hitherto I have only regarded, as a subject worthy to captivated all the Faculties of a Soul the Gods have accomplished with the greatest perfections. I beseech you to manage this passion by your prudence for my best advantage: And since it is not capable to bias my Soul, and divert it from the secret inclination it has to Love, let it endeavour to choose objects for it most worthy its consideration.  
Volumnius was ready to caper for joy, when he heard me make this Proposition, and promised me to sacrifice all his elucubrations for a happy success; and I, for my own part, assured him of all the assiduity and diligence he could require of me. In fine, we become inseparable. And the beginning of this Amity charmed my Soul with a thousand pleasures and delights. He has a spirit embellished with all curious literature: And does not affect the common method of teaching, practised in the Schools, but aspires to a more noble one. Her reasons upon the principles of things, has made divers experiments of curiosity, and did discover to me a thousand new secrets in Philosophy, and the Liberal Sciences: But when from these artificial qualifications, we descended to the reason upon those of Nature; Alas! how great Strangers did I found the sophystical Subtleties of this sage one, to these Notions? And how great a grief did I conceive in my mind, that I had sacrificed so much time and study to so empty a vanity? We one day, I know not how, fell into a discourse of the Reign of Augustus, and the merit of his Favourites. Are you one of those Sycophants too, said he, who are accountable to the Gods for the dissoluteness of the Age? And encourage it by your Applause. What do you found so dissolute in the Age, said I, interrupting him, Men labour to live with convenience and satisfaction in it. Will you not allow, that every one aught to tender to the Gods an Account of those Goods he has received from their liberal hands? And if you had given one of your servants a piece of Land to improve, would you be pleased if he should leave one half of it covered over with bushes and briars, and other trumpery? Men are properly the trusties of Nature. It is for them, that she daily labours, and is, as I may say, brought to Bed of such variety of Productions: And they aught to use them with all grateful moderation. The Sea offers us Fish, and we must employ our industry to catch it; the Earth presents us with Fruits, and we must take the pains to gather them. Every Element, every Season furnishes a Man with varieties, to tender his life pleasant and delicious. Behold the Maxims, cried out Volumnius in a passion, upon which the vanity and gluttony of the Age are established. From the source of such Epicurean Arguments, spring so many unbridled desires, so many licentious debaucheries.  
It is by this fanatical pretence of indulging themselves the use of Nature's bounty, that Men would oblige the Gods to created every day a new Sea, and a new Earth, if the insatiability of Worldlings, were as omnipotent, as it is boundless.  
Here throwing the lose reinss on the neck of his satirical humour, he committed more unpardonable Errors in one hours' discourse, than one of Venus' professed Idolaters would have done in a ten years Love-intrigue. No state, no condition of life escaped the lash of his rage. He taxed the Senate of remissness, the People of blindness, the Court of debauchery, and the Soldiers of effeminacy. There was nothing so sacred, which his tongue did not profane; Ladies of the severest virtue were accused by him of dissimulation, the Priests of hypocrisy, and even the purity itself of Vestals, blemished by the imparity of his Censures.  
What, said I to him, Are these the first-fruits of that wisdom you make so glorious a profession of? Are detraction, disrespect and contempt of your Neighbour, the Basis, on which you have raised to yourself that splendid Title of a Reverend Sage? And to demonstrate yourself to be a reasonable Animal, do you accuse all the rest of the World of brutality and folly? Ho! What is the World, replied he, but a confused Mass, and contexture of brainsick follies? Does the Lawyer, who consumes his litigious days in deciding Controversies, wherein he is seldom concerned, merit the Title of a wise Man? Does not the Courtier, who makes himself the Ape of all new fashions, and sacrifices his repose, his health, and his estate, to the capricio of every new Mode, deserve to be enroled in the Catalogue of Fools? Does not the Madam, who by a thousand affected vanities spins herself the web, wherein the painted Butterfly ensnares her own liberty and honour, deserve to be called a Madam, or Mad Soul indeed? And is not the Lover, who lies whining at the feet of this Lady Foolish, as great a Fool himself? Who is than, said I, interrupting him, a wise Man in your opinion? Myself, replied Volumnius, with a starched gravity of countenance; who free from the engagements and tumults of the world, centre in myself my own repose, and my own felicity: Alas, said I, do you call that chagrin and those virulent dregss of a phlegmatic Soul, which you so peevishly vent against all other Men, a true repose? Does that satirical humour, which has even devoured up in you all sense of humanity; which will not suffer my Muse quietly to addict herself to the Noble Art of Loving, without attacking her with loud reproaches, which represents the Universe to you, in the shape of a Monster, composed of nothing but honour and deformity; and which under the pretence of a petulant censure, does, without intermission, hound you on upon all Mankind, does all this, I say, deserve the name of a calm tranquillity of spirit? Not, not, Volumnius, you do not carry a calm, but a tempest in your breast; and the frothy effects of it fly up into your brain, and intoxicate your reason. The opinion, you cherish, of your own wisdom, is an Arrogance, more insupportable than that, of which you impeach the proudest Worldlings; and they need not so strong an Antidote to preserve themselves from the dangerous contagion of those soft pleasures, to which you declare yourself a mortal enemy, as they do from the venom of your injurious Censures. A Lover concerns himself with nothing but what concerns his Love. All the Evils, which his Passion is the Author of, flow both to and from himself; And he esteems himself so much obliged to those, who give no disturbance to his innocent Amours, that in recompense of the obligation, he gives a free pardon to all the miscarriages of the Age; you on the contrary, being partial to yourself, and obnoxious to all others, think to avoid the imputation of a private ignominy and weakness, by a licentious inveighing against the glory and authority of other Men. Believe me, Volumnius, you were never wise. Wisdom is more modest, and more prudent. You are more a slave to your passion, than the voluptuous Man, whose scourge you glory to call yourself, is to his: And to obey their peevish instigations, you brand the Actions of Virtue and Innocence itself; and repose that pleasure and satisfaction in this, which another finds in the regaling of his senses.  
Volumnius confirmed all by his ungoverned passion, that I had alleged against him: and scorning to acknowledge himself convinced, he broke out of the lists of the dispute, and launching himself forth into a wild Ocean of bitter invectives, he possessed me with a greater contempt of his vanity, than report had done before, with an esteem for his virtue. We parted ill satisfied with one another. And ever since that day, he has used so zealous a diligence in snatching at all opportunities of doing me an injury, employed in the effecting it, Instruments so base and unworthy, and I have found his Soul so susceptible of all sordid and mechanical impressions, that he has convinced me, that a truly wise Man, is one diametrically opposite to Voluminus. I have always professed as great a respect and esteem for the counsels of my Friends, as he has obstinacy to have fixed me to his blind Errors: He has endeavoured to make me feel the malicious effects of his revenge, and I have generously pardoned all his mischievous intentions: He thinks himself the only person in the world, worthy of its admiration and praise, and I receive those, as a favour, it flatters me with; and so by a consequent series of the like oppositions, I have consecrated all the Faculties of my Soul, to the charms of that divine passion, against which Volumnius professes so inhuman an antipathy and horror.  
It was to have been wished for the diversion of Maecenas, that this Comic Scene had preceded the Tragical Relation of Crassus; it would have afforded a very pleasant one to any person whose thoughts had not been embarased with other cares and distractions. The mistaken Saga swelling with inward rage and despite, and not daring to give them vent, changed his colour as often, as the Apology did its stile. He gave himself some secret Applauses, for having forced Ovid to attribute a few to him in his discourse, and died his flaming cheeks in their own blushes, when he considered in others, how severely he was handled by him: And conjecturing by the frequent smiles of Maecenas, which he could not retain, that his shame was his diversion, he would suddenly grow as pale, as Envy could paint him, with grief and confusion. But the illustrious witness of these reciprocal Agitations, was scarce in a capacity to remark them. His Soul, which like a Shipwrackt Vessel, was sinking in the turbulent billows of its own cares, had no leisure to interest it self in the concerns of another. He took his leave of Volumnius, and telling him, in an ironical compliment, that he would acquaint the Emperor with the promptitude and parity of his zeal to serve him, he went hastily to the Chamber of Phedra.  
He found her in a condition capable to disarm his choler: she had been informed of Crassus' disgrace; she accused herself of being the chief instrument of it: And this grief being joined to that of seeing her Love disdained, involved her in a deluge of mortal resentments. Her eyes, whose lively sparkling is generally one of the most powerful charms of beauty, were seized with a languishing dulness, and seemed to implore the compassion of all they were fixed upon. Her body, whose elegant proportion might challenge the title of one of the most beautiful Structures in the world, was negligently extended upon a Couch; which by her posture and dejectedness, she seemed to have chosen for her tomb. Maecenas regarded her awhile, without being discovered; and his heart, which Nature had made the seat of compassion, not able long to harbour so unnatural a Guest, as his new-conceived indignation, he began insensibly to yield to the soft impressions of the first: But than again in the same instant recollecting his thoughts, and reflecting, that it was a consideration for his Rival, and not for himself, that had reduced her to that condition, unfaithful one, cried he out aloud, how darest thou testify so many visible marks of an affection, which both a just gratitude, and the solemn engagement of so many perjured vows, aught to have surmounted, or at lest concealed from the surmises of the whole world. Phedra turning her languishing eyes to that side, from whence the voice came, and considering Maecenas lesle, as an exasperated Lover, than a powful Favourite of Caesar. Ha! my Lord, said she to him, What will you do with Crassus? Shall he be banished, imprisoned, or treated with more rigour? He shall not want punishment, since thou hast so much ingratitude, replied Maecenas, Thy love has pronounced his condemnation; and thou wouldst doubt whither ever I loved thee, or not, if after what I know, and what I am able to do, the Crime of Crassus should scape unpunished. He has received the punishment, he merits, in me already, replied the weeping Phedra, and the Gods could not make me more unhappy, than in having made me the unhappy instrument of your revenge.  
Consider me, my Lord, both as what I am, and what I aught to be; you love me, you are one of the most charming, and most eminent persons of the Empire: To you I own my liberty, and to you I might have owed all, that your high credit commands all within the extent of its Dominions: I do not love you; and I love an Ingrate, who draws upon me as many malign effects of your favour, as I might have hoped for benign ones from it. What can your revenge ambition more? Am I not punished enough in my own person, but I must suffer too in that of Crassus? But unjust and treacherous Phedra interrupted Maecenas, What services, what obligations have engrafted Crassus so deeply in your Soul? How has he merited, to see himself the object of all your love, whilst I am the subject of all you ingratitude? How, has Terentia, merited my Lord, answered Phedra, to be only the subject of your cold Caresses, whilst a poor Bondslave is the object of all your real Flames? You have not always had these considerations, ingrateful one, replied Maecenas: I have not always loved Crassus, my Lord, said Phedra, and as long as this Passion did not combat that, I nourished for you, my devoir obliged me to observe all your desires, as a most inviolable Law; but since I have changed the prospect, and with other eyes regard them, I found them not more legal and just than my own. What reproach can you object to me for loving Crassus? You that impute none to yourself, for preferring me before the most resplendent Beauty of the Empire? Oh! ingrateful Creature, said Maecenas, interrupting her, you turn those weapons upon me, which you aught to convert upon yourself: for since I have preferred you before Terentia, you aught to have preferred me before all the persons in the World. And calling to mind the Sacrifices, I have formerly offered to all your desires, they aught to convince you of the injustice of these, you now cherish in opposition to me. Alas! my Lord, replied the amorous Phedra, as they were too powerful to be convinced by me, so the power they acted by they did not derive from me. And do you think, that I expected a detachement from your reproaches, before I summoned all the forces of my Devoir into the Field? Not, my Lord, if the strongest opposition could have conquered this Passion, it should not have led the unfortunate Slave Phedra through Rome in triumph after it. I have represented all the engagements, I have to you, with all their heightening circumstances, to the consideration of my gratitude; and scorning to entertain such mean thoughts of your love, as to believe that that forced you to do for me, what you did, I stamped the character of an obligation upon the lest of your favours. But, my Lord, the most endearing obligations cannot altar Decrees of the Stars; and though I must always acknowledge you for a most illustrious Benefactor, yet cannot cherish the same tender esteem for you, as I do for the the too ingrateful and too charming Crassus.  
This discourse forced so many mournful complaints from the amorous Maecenas, that he had not ended them before he was informed of the Emperor's return: and being unwilling to be surprised in Phedra's Chamber, he retired out of it in as much confusion as he had first entered into it: he could not resolve to digest the bitter Pill, he had been forced to swallow; nor so far renounce all his hopes of reducing the ingrateful false One back to her devoir, as to alarm the Court with the so exotic a Novelty. He calmed, as well as he could, his thoughts, and his countenance: gave some minute's attendance upon Augustus in his Chamber; and not judging it seasonable to publish yet the secret of this Intrigue, he retired to his own Apartment; where leaving him and the rest of the Court to their repose, we will return again to Tusculum, to examine what passes there betwixt the disgraced Cornelius, and his noble friend Virgil.  
They were not sooner in a capacity to unbosom with freedom their thoughts to each other, when Cornelius calling the beautiful Phila to his remembrance, conjured Virgil to relate to him the particulars of the Intrigue, which had been betwixt them. Lovers use willingly to talk of their amorous Advenventures; wherefore Virgil suffered no long importuning; and deducing his discourse from a somewhat remote head.   

THE HISTORY OF Virgil.  
AN illustrious descent, said he, is a gift of Fortune, which entails no hereditary glory upon the receivers; it costs them neither study, nor labour, and it is so far from deserving the title of Merit, that it is oftentimes an obstacle to the acquiring it: But yet, my Lord, it aught to be confessed, that though it be not the reward, it is the lustre of Virtue, and that illustrious qualities shine not in their native splendour and orb, but in a Subject of an illustrious Title.  
I laboured a long time under this injustice of Fate, and it was that which caused me to take my leave of my Country, more than the flaming ruins of delightful Mantua. It's destruction destroyed none of my richeses, nor my dignities: My losses by the Fire were not so great, but that a small Cott was able to repair them: But the obscurity of my birth, eclipse d all the lustre of my Talents; and as I valued myself more upon the nobleness of my deserts, than of my descent, I was very willing to exchange my native Air for any other, where my person might be better known, than my extraction.  
You know, my Lord, how this design succeeded; I was favoured by Maecenas, and presented by him to the Emperor; and within a short time, obtained the place of Supervisor, for the transportation of wheat, and all other grain, wherewith the Isle of Sicily supplies Rome. I was ambitious to show myself worthy of the Employ I was honoured with; and I not only dedicated all my cares and diligence to advance the fruitful harvests of every season, but likewise to improve them to an advantage, that Island had never before been sensible of. I taught the Inhabitants a new, and more beneficial way of tillage; I gave them many wholesome Precepts for the increase of the health and fecundity of their Cattles: This method, which no man had taught, or practised before me in that place, rendered me familiar and in high esteem with persons of that calling. They would come and consult me upon all their affairs, and I have a thousand times admired, to see what pleasure Nature takes to repair in them by ingenuity and industry, the injustice Fortune has done them by a blind partiality. My Lord, says an old Man, in whose innocent converse I took great delight, one day to me, What is this Fortune, of which I have heard you discourse so often; you call Her sometimes unjust and capricious, and at other times you reverence Her, as a Goddess; and, in effect, you have enrolled her in the Catalogue of your Deities, and dedicated Temples to Her in Rome? Tell me, I pray you what Authority has She over Mortals? Does She sand them into the world? Can She take them out of it? Or maintain them in health in it? She does not do any of all this, said I, she cann●… destroy the World; but she furnishes it with Commodities, without which, it would be lesle to be desired, than death itself. But, replied the old man, she has furnished me with none of the Commodities, you speak of; my labour, is the only Commodity, I subsist by; which is scarce able to feed and clothe me, and yet I live contented. If you live contented, said I, you are one of fortunes Favourites, and she has given you all that she can give you. But, replied he, all that she has given me, would not tender another perhaps, so contented, as I am. Young Coridon, who is so handsome, and who has so many Commodities, is always mumuring against Fortune. His rich Uncle Melibeus, dotes on him, and maintains him like a Lord; and yet how comes it to pass, that he, who has every thing that I have, should continually be making complaints; and that I, who have not half of what he has, should live contented with my condition? How? said I, From hence that he to the abundance, he has, covets more; and that the little you have does fully satisfy your desires. It is not fortune than, replied the old man, which is able to created either out discontents, or our joys; we need not court her either in Heaven, or upon Earth; we need not raise Altars, or Temples to her; since all our felicity consists in being contented, with what the Gods have bestowed upon us. I am glad I have learned so excellent a Lesson to day: I shall remember it, when I hear Coridon make his complaints, and I shall not fail to tell him, that he aught to attribute to himself, not to fortune, the dissatisfaction he finds in his condition.  
This Coridon had addicted himself to a very solitary course of life; and though he lived in a near neighbouring Village to my house, I had never seen him. I had a curiosity to understand, what it was, that obliged him, to frame those continual complaints. He came one evening with some of his Companions into a Meadow, where I was walking: and as soon as I saw him, I was convinced, that it was not without reason, that they called him, Coridon the Fair; for I had never beheld a more charming Beauty. I asked him, that since he was only born a Peasant, and yet commanded all conveniences such a life could furnish him with, Why he was always railing against Fortune? You ask me a great Secret, my Lord, said he, fetching a deep sigh, and if I could impart it to you, it would much lighten the burden of these afflictions, I groan under.  
His Uncle came to us, as he had finished those last words; and desiring me not to give ear to his idle discourse, made a sign to him, to retire: Why do you chase him away? said I to Melibeus; you should have suffered him to tell me, what it is that troubles him. Perhaps I could administer him some wholesome Physic for his distemper: Alas! my Lord, replied his Uncle, What can he tell you? He is a Lunatic, who is neither capable of declaring to you the cause of his complaint, nor of any advice that can be given to moderate them. He spent his first years at Athens, where he applied himself to nothing but the reading of Fables and Romances, which have depraved his judgement. He hatches strange Chimeras in his fancy, and nourishes them up in his folly; and seeing me refuse to flatter his brainsick humours, he will oftentimes go and address his complaints to Rocks and Trees, as if they were capable to understand and relieve him.  
This frenzy of this beautiful Youth, moved me to compassionate him. I sent to a famous Graecian, who professed Physic in Syracuse, for his advice, and desired him to employ the best of his skill, to reduce his distempered Brain to its native strength and vivacity. The Graecian returned me a learned and satisfactory answer; prescribed the use of certain Simples, and assured me of a favourable success. I went to found Melibeus, to communicate his advice to him; and as I was in the midst of a little Wood, which I was to pass thorough to go to the house of that good man; I thought I heard myself named; I lent a diligent attention, and heard one say;  
Consider into what a gulf of dangers you would have precipitated yourself, had not I, by the suborned disguise of an imaginary folly, found a means to preserve you from it. Virgil has a curious and piercing judgement; he would have soon discovered the secret, you are so much obliged to conceal: And that perhaps may be the misfortune, which they have possessed your Father with so strong an apprehension of: And if Heaven had not opportunely sent me to your relief, one moment of indiscretion might have rendered the precautions and care of eight entire years, wholly ineffectual, Oh! cruel precautions, answered the person, to whom the other spoke; I am able not longer to enslave myself to them. This base disguise, the prolongation of my banishment, the rustic employment to which I am forced to apply myself, and the secret repugnance and antipathy I have against them, accomplish the the Prophecy, which they endeavour to avert from me; they advanced it, in seeking thus to preserve me from the menaces of it; and the disasters, which the Stars threaten me, are not so much to be apprehended by me, as those, wherein the provident care, as you term it, of Antiochus, does daily involve me.  
It is strange, replied he, who had begun the discourse, that the prudence and affection of a tender Father, such as Antiochus is, should be suspected by you, of cruelty, and indiscretion. Do you think, that he has not maturely weighed the reasons and consequences of his proceed? Your resignation has hitherto been his joy and his glory; And I wonder, that having not above five or six months to suffer, those should become more insupportable to you, than all the former years of your confinement.  
My tender age, replied this person, and the hopes I had to enjoy in a short time my enlargement, did, as it were, screen its horror from my eyes; but since Antiochus declared to me in his last Voyage, that it was to be continued to the seventeenth year of my age, I was seized with such violent transports of grief and impatience, as my firmest constancy, was not able to triumph over. The liberty which the young Shepherds, with whom I am forced to consort, licentiously indulge themselves; the amorous persecutions of old Nerysa, and the tender complaints of young Daphne, expose it every moment to the extremest Test. I am not able Melibeus, any longer to keep my tongue prisoner, as you keep my person; and it is time now that the World should hear me speak that under the notion of Phila, which you force me oftentimes to utter amongst our Shepherds under the name of Corydon.  
I was so attentive to this discourse, that the same Nerysa, which Corydon had just than spoken of, came to the place where I stood, and was within two or three paces of me, before I discovered her. I laugh oftentimes, when I think of this Creature. She was the Widow of Pollio, whom you knew, at your first coming into the World; and having retired herself into Sicily, where she had a fair Dowry, she become so besotted with the Charms of Corydon, that she both forgot her age and her honour, to become a young Votary of Cupid. She went dressed like a young Country Girl. She made one at all youthful Sports and Pastimes of the Shepherds and Shepherdesses: and crowning with Garlands of Flowers that head, which she had thatched for many years with purchased Hair: She would play as wantonly with little Dogs and Monkeys, as if she were just than stepped into that age, wherein such childish gallantries may pass for an ornament. She asked me what curiosity had invited me thither, and what it was that I leaned so diligent an ear to? To your praises, Madam, said I, which declare, that in this Habit, you would force the youthful Paris to pay a homage to your Charms; and serve for an original to copy forth the beautiful Shepherdess Enona by. You are a Flatterer, said she, with a smile (which envy would have been apt to call a grin) I do not aim by this dress, to attract the admiration, or envy of my neighbours; but one knows not otherways, how to divert themselves in the Country; and besides, I own this slight complaisance, to the kindness of the Shepherds, I live amongst, who with so much care and respect, solemnize yearly the day of my birth. So giving me her hand, and leading me to a Castle, towards which the Wood, we were than in, by a pleasant Walk conducted us, she entreated me to stay, and be a witness of the innocent diversions, which her neighbours were preparing for her. We entered into a Hall, which was suddenly filled with young Fellows, and Country-wenches, who brought every one a small Present, suitable to his ability; and attended with divers rustical instruments, presented us with a very pleasant Ball after their Country fashion. The young Daphne, Niece to Nerysa, (whom Corydon had mentioned before in the discourse, I had overheard) had by the command of her Aunt, ranked herself amongst them, and chosen two or three young Girls for her Companions, whose pretty simplicity and innocence, might have raised emulation even in the most admired Beauties of Augustus his Court; but both my eyes and my attention were so eager'y fixed upon the sergeant Corydon, that I had not more left me, to bestow upon any other Object.  
Never did Beauty receive lesle advantage by address, nor address more glory from Beauty, than in this incomparable person. I admired, how that being a Girl, she was able with such dexterity to perform the exercises of the contrary Sex: and in a moment after, I wondered as much, how in the disguise of a Boy, she could preserve the glory of her own, with so much sweetness and modesty. The old Nerysa devoured her with her eyes; and pregnant with a Passion, that every action seemed to labour to be delivered of; she asked me with a transported countenance, if that Youth did not merit a Fortune more noble, than his birth; and what I would say of that person, who to repair the injustice, fate had done him, should raise him to one worthy of himself? I would say, said I, that that person would give a most excellent testimony of his judgement; and that if I were born a Prince, and could found a simple Shepherdess, accomplished with so many Charms and Perfections in her Sex, as Corydon is in his, I should make no scruple, to make her a Princess. Nerysa hugged me in her Arms for this answer, and highly extolling it, for a rare principle of equity in me; I have the same sentiments, said she, as you have; and were it not out of a chimerical apprehension, that I should incur the censure of the scandalous World, I swear, I had long since invested him with all my possessions. It shall be so yet, went she on; as if she had finally determined it: your learned discourses have quite none plused all my scruples; and you shall see in a short time what a veneration and respect, I have for them: Not that I was ever fond of Marriage from a Girl; nor had I ever entered into it, but by the express command of my Father; and I had a natural aversion to cohabit with Pollio in any other way than as a Sister with a Brother; But I make a conscience of suffering Corydon to be buried in the obscurity, wherein he was born; and I shall hereby demonstrate to the World, that it is oblige men to the practice of such acts of justice, that the Gods have created such differences in their fortunes.  
I could have derived a pleasant diversion from her extravagant follies, had not I began to feel in myself an encroaching Passion, which filled my Breast with chagrin and disquiet. I attempted several times, dancing the Dance, to draw the sergeant Corydon aside, and discover some of my thoughts to her; but old Melibeus, did watch her so narrowly, that I could gain no opportunity of speaking to her, but in his presence. I fetched many a deep sigh for grief; and seeing all the rural Squadron retire, and I not able to effect my design, I returned in a melancholy humour towards my own House, through the same Wood, by which I had come before; when I could hear old Nerysa in a furious tone, thundering out terrible menaces against her young Niece Daphne. I desired her to tell me what it was, that had provoked her to so much indignation. What is it? said she, staring upon me, like a Woman half distracted, this young Slut, which I have bred up from the Cradle, as tenderly as if she had been a Daughter of my own, and to whom, thanks to the Gods, I have ever given nothing, but examples of virtue, prefers her own giddy-brained inclinations, before my virtuous Precepts. I found her just now making a thousand Caresses to Melibeus his young Nephew. For Heaven's sake tell me my Joy, went she on, giving the Girl no time to make her an answer, which of my actions does authorise you to live with me in this debauchery? I do not disallow of innocent Recreations; and being not yet arrived to those years of gravity, as to renounce the pleasures of Society, I profess, I cannot reconcile the gaiety of my humour to that air of severity, which entombs many women alive at the age of four times ten within their own houses, as in a Vestal Cloister; but Virtue, you know, my Lord, will shine in what Orb soever you fix it. I consecrated myself wholly to solid and essential diversions: Take example by me, foolish Girl, to comport yourself, and force me not by your impudence to sand you back again to the Wilderness, from whence I took you. I endeavoured the best I could to appease the fury of this old Tygress, and being conscious to myself that Daphne could not be guilty, but in intention only; I desired, Nerysa not to suffer her affection to her Niece to be seduced by vain surmises. Vain surmises! cried she out; I am neither distracted, nor blind. I saw with these eyes this young Minion follow Corydon, as he went out of my house; I had a curiosity to see what they intended; I stole softly after them; and I heard Daphne reproach him, because in the Dance he had not vouchsafed to cast one look upon her; call him ingrateful, and beg his Heart of him, with expressions, that cause me to blush at the very thoughts of them. That famous Fabler, had a great deal of reason on his side, when by his tale of the Cat transformed into a Woman, he demonstrated to us, that Nature will be always Mistress. Corydon was born upon the Dunghill of a Country Village, and will smell of it as long as he lives: He has no sense of a generous ambition, and instead of endeavouring to please me, or reach at Richeses, Glory, or Dignities, he runs creeping after this young Slattertaile, which has not a penny, but what my charity will bestow upon her. It is not for her Beauty, (run she on, giving a fresh lose in the fury of her Career) set aside a little snoutfair Paint of youth, which will sooner or later decay, and a little breeding and bonne grace, which my care and charges have purchased her, I have without vanity a more mature judgement, and am more desirable than she.  
I applauded all she said, and being touched with compassion for poor Daphne, who was with so much injustice suspected of a crime, she was not capable of committing, I offered all the reasons to the rage of the old Vixon, which I thought might appease it. Corydon came to understand what I had done, and acknowledging my generosity, came to give me thanks for the good office.  
It was not a bore point of generosity, lovely Shepherd, said I to her, but a Motive more powerful, that commanded those small services, you set so high a value on; and I shall expect for all others, I shall consecrated to you hereafter, a recompense worthy of their Merit. Alas! My Lord, replied the pretended Corydon, with a sigh, what recompense can you expect from a poor Shepherd, which Fortune has chosen to be the object of her scorn, and who being as destitute of wealth, as of credit, is capable to pay no other recompense for a favour received, than that of impotent vows and acknowledgements? The acknowledgement you offer, fair Corydon, said I, is not so inconsiderable, as you imagine it; you have a heart in your power to dispose of, and I would purchase it at the whole price of my Soul, if you would impose not higher upon it.  
The fair disguised, died her cheeks in scarlet, and stepping back two or three paces, seemed by that eloquent motion to tell me I had forgot, to whom I addressed my discourse. Moderate your astonishment, said I, Beauty can challenge no particular Sex for its object; and though you really were, what you seem to be, I might usurp the privilege without exception, to admire that, which Nature has framed so admirable. But, charming Corydon, you are conscious to yourself, that I have a more solid foundation to raise a Temple on to the Divinity of Love: and without giving a clearer explanation to my thoughts, I constitute yourself the Judge to denounce, whether the Divinity, I mentioned, may not claim the sacrifice of my heart, with as much justice, as if he were the most resplendent Beauty of the Graecian Empire.  
A Courier arriving from Maecenas with private Orders, whom I was obliged to dispatch in haste, interrupted our longer converse; but I omitted no stratagem, nor assiduity, for the renewing it again with the first opportunity. Love is a subtle poison, which in a moment passes through our senses to our heart. I spoke, I urged, I discovered to her what I knew of her condition, and how miraculously I came to the knowledge of it. In fine Corydon, or I should rather now say, Phila, told me, that a learned ginger came to Athens, when she was not above seven years old, had gained the acquaintance of her father, and assured him, that if he did not conceal her from the eyes of the whole world, till she had attained to the 17th year of her age, her life should be unfortunate, and environed with innumerous disasters; and on the contrary, if he observed the precaution he gave him, he should see his daughter one of the most fortunate persons that ever came into the world.  
Antiochus persuading himself that these Predictions were infallible, (added the fair Phila) caused a rumour to be spread abroad of my death; and having committed me to the charge of old Melibeus, who had formerly been one of his Servants, he has concealed me for these nine years in this Island, in the disguise you now see me: And I, perhaps, should have supported it with more constancy, if the loathed caresses of old Nerisa, and the continual expostulations of young Daphne, had not quite exhausted my patience. I abhor that old amorous piece of decrepidness, and I tenderly affect her deluded Niece. Hatred and disdain solicit me to expose one to open confusion, and love and friendship privately to undeceive the other: But I dare not obey either of these temptations. Melibeus is continually suggesting to me, that the felicity, or infelicity of my life, depends upon my secrecy: he has so often inculcated this to me, that I have now no power to doubt it; and I give as sacred a belief to the predictions of that ginger, as I should do to the voice of Jupiter himself: And I tremble with ho●…or, to think, that as I am now speaking to you with so much frankness, I perhaps advance that cruel destiny, which they so carefully study to avert from me.  
I encouraged Phila against the vanity of her apprehensions, and finding a heart in her, which as unpractised and as young as it was, might easily be induced to receive the impressions of a passion, I endeavoured to manage this favourable conjuncture of Beauty and innocence to the best advantage. I insinuated myself into the good opinion of Melibeus. I never spoke to his Nephew in his presence, but my discourse was an absolute harangue of virtue, and obedience to Parents; And though I oftentimes took up this theme as much by accident, as design, it so strongly enchanted the fancy of the old Man, that he would sand Phila purposely to me for my instructions; and assured himself that she was in as great security under my conduct and charge, as in his own.  
Oh! ye Gods! what an age of felicity did every moment than of my life include! It was in those auspicious days, that I composed those passionate Eglogues, which you took so much delight to read; the laws of my duty complied than with the desires of my heart; and I received as much applause from Maecenas, for my Government in Sicily, as I did satisfaction in the actions by which I purchased it. The day approached, when the disguised Phila was to pull of that Vizard-Mask, which had so long clouded from the eyes of the world her native splendour; and my estate, I now thought, was grown considerable enough, to challenge the assent of Antiochus. But blind Love does oftentimes want the foreseeing eyes of prudence; and we did not weigh in her impartial scales, the dangers to which the vigilance of our watchful Spies might expose us.  
The flames of Nerisa seemed to borrow new supplies daily from the coldness of Corydon: she persecuted him with a Love, that at length degenerated into an open fury; and finding that he grew every day more and more rebellious to her raging desires, she imagined that my counsels blew the coals both of his disdain, and her own shame. I carried myself, as a person indifferent, towards the rural Beauties of our Neighbourhood: And as none could divine, that the sergeant Corydon had caused in me this indifferency, all interpreted that a default of Love in me, which was properly the excess of it. Nerisa believed that I instilled pernicious Maxims into the Soul of Corydon; and acting the old Dragon, who was the Keeper of the Hesperian Garden, she with never-sleeping eyes watched this golden fruit of her heart; and one evening surprised us at a private Cabal, which we held under the overspreading Canopy of a thick quickset Hedge, that proved a treacherous Screen, to intercept from us the sight of that old  
Dragoness: Ha! my Lord, What think you, was the discourse, we entertained those few blessed minutes with, of such importance, that Nerysa could not have expected any of so great? I was blaming Phila, for not forcing her inclination to express a little more complaisance for the error, she saw her involved in.  
She may do us a displeasure, said I to her; she has a great interest in this place; and Melibeus Rents the Estate of her, he lives in; for which you aught to pay her the small acknowledgement of a little feigned complaisance. Make all her fantastic discourses and addresses, your sport and diversion. Ha! Virgil, said she, I shall never be able to extort from myself that complaisance, you pled for. I could heretofore with more equity, and lesle trouble, digest the follies of Nerisa; and as long as her discourses, only invaded my modesty, and reason, I suffered them with patience enough: But since now they begin to invade the confines too of my fidelity, they are become wholly insupportable to me. I know, that my heart is not suspected to be what it is; and if you frame a right judgement of the state of it, Nerysa cannot properly be called your Rival; but she is really so in intention, though not in effect: and mine are so pure and so delicate, that even the blind error Nerysa cherishes in her abused thoughts, seems to blemish and asperse them.  
Would to the Gods, it were lawful for the World, said I, most beautiful Shepherd (for I would not use myself to call her Phila in private, for fear of being surprised with the mistake in public) to pay to your Idea, the homage and adorations, it owes it, under what form soever, it shall design to represent itself: The excess of your fidelity, give me leave, to call my injury; since my whole stock of love is incapacitated thereby, to repay one half of the debt, it imposes upon me; and should Cupid Mortgage all his Demains to supply my inability, I should still be in arrear to so matchless a Bounty. Converse with Nerisa with the same innocence, you did, before I knew you. And the minutes of bliss, she will rob me of, shall furnish me with a sum of vexations, that I beg you to accept in part of payment of that infinite one, for which I stand indebted to you; and as than you shall take care not to decline all diversions, to enjoy my company alone, I shall be able to impute a tender reproach to you, that you did not that for me, which I would have done for you. Oh! most ingrateful person, replied the generous Phila, Do you think, that those vexations, which you accounted to me in part of payment of the debt you boast of, will cost me nothing? Is not your absence, think you, as insupportable to Corydon, as Corydon's is to you? And do you judge, though the unequal temper of our hearts should not tender us both of one weight in those Scales, that the company of Nerisa aught to be obtruded on me, for a diversion? This Nerisa, I say, who many lustres ago pruned up with all the advantages and charms of youth, durst scarce pretend to the title of Tolerable; and who at an age; wherein the most radiant Beauties suffer a total Eclipse, and become types of ugliness and horror, imagines Heaven has blest her with the supernatural Gift of enchanting all that look on her. Did you ever behold anything more extravagant, than the Habits and Dresses she affects?  
I am ready to fancy sometimes, that those insensible things are endued with reason; and to be revenged of her for depriving them of that right and privilege, they enjoy in all others, by a malicious kind of artifice increase her natural deformity. Are the apish toys and vanities, wherewith she endeavours to disguise her decripedness; the scandalous inclination of her heart, which ready to take leave of the World, and drop into the Urn, cannot yet take leave of youthful desires; and that insatiable rage, which causing her to forget the respect she owes to the memory of Pollio, makes her stoop to her own disgrace, and in the face of the whole World, infamously court a poor contemptible Shepherd? Are these, I say, qualities, to induce me to regard these hours, as a pleasure and diversion, I should dedicated to the loathed Amour of Nerisa?  
Phila had scarce pronounced these last words, when I thought I heard a noise very near us, and indeed it was Nerisa; who having listened to our discourse, and not able any longer to be Mistress of her patience, fling away in a fury; which alarmed us with the effects of it. I made haste to discover, what it was; but being forced to fetch a great circumference round, before I could found a place to look over the Hedge, Nerisa had conveyed herself away with such speed, that I could not catch a sight of her. She sent that very day for Melibeus; and having severely checked him for a criminal negligence, or consent, related to him the amorous Dialogue, which had passed betwixt us. This intelligence did not produce in the spirit of Melibeus the effect she expected; He knew, I might love Corydon without violating the laws of nature; but judging that I could not be enamoured with the sergeant Shepherd, but I must be made acquainted with the secret, which so much concerned her, and by that means frustrate all the precautions of Antiochus, he dispatched away an Express to advertise him of what had happened. Antiochus made all hast imaginable to come and snatched his daughter out of the jaws of those imminent disasters, which he apprehended her to be threatened with: He arrived privately at the house of the old Shepherd; and whilst I was taking a progress to Syracuse, whither Caesar's orders had commanded me, he robbed me of my felicity, and Sicily of its glory, by conveying her out of it. Consider the destruction I was seized with, when I was informed of this cruel Rape, which Antiochus had committed more upon my repose, than the inclinations of his Daughter. I presently sent for Melibeus, and omitted neither entreaties, nor menaces, to extort a real confession of the truth from him: But he with with an obstinate loyalty concealled the fatal secret, and making several solemn protestations, with a dissembled frankness which deluded me, that he was both innocent, and ignorant of any design relating to Phila, possessed me with a strong apprehension, that Nerisa, had by violence secured her in some place or other. I run to her, and demanded her of her, in terms that neither had respect to her Sex nor Quality; and arraigning her lustful Ardours, and Designs, before the Tribunal of her Modesty and Honour, I raised her impatience to the highest pitch of fury. She had the same jealousy and suspicion of me, as I had of her; and thundering them forth in my ears in volleys of reproaches, as extravagant, as unjust, upbraided me with that, which none was able to do, but herself. Melibeus, said she, has doubtless checked his Nephew for effecting so unnatural a correspondence with thee, and thou fearing that his sharp reprehensions should dissolve that shameful Intrigue, has conveyed him away thyself; and in the mean time with an audacity and impudence, which merits the chastisement of the Gods, does charge me with a violence, infinitely more justifiable on my side, than on thine.  
This erroneous frenzy of Nerisa, drew some sighs from me; and I had suddenly after a fresh subject to renew them. Melibeus received intelligence that Antiochus died in his return with his Daughter to Athens; and his death having advanced on him with such speed and violence, that it allowed him not the time to writ to Melibeus, he knew not in what part of the World to begin his search for her. This misfortune triumphed over all the glory of his former discretion and prudence; he complained of the cruelty of his destiny, and made an open declaration of that, he had till than concealed with so much care, and fidelity. This Novelty surprised all Sicily, and attracted upon me so many mournful condolements, that I was not able to support them, whereupon I resolved to exchange that now unpleasing Climate, for another, that might not recall the memory of Phila so often to my thoughts, as the objects would do, that I should behold there.  
I came to Rome, where I grew familiar with Cicero, as I told Tullia yesterday: He was well pleased I should come and visit him in his voluntary Exile, I came one day to see him, and being told by his Servants, that he was go forth to take a walk in that same Wood, out of which you saw his Daughter and Terentia come to receive us, I hastened thither; and with an eager curiosity, examining all places to found him, I happened to cast an accidental glance upon a young Pinetree, as I passed by it; and fixing my eye more intentively upon it, I discovered some Ciphers engraved on the Bark of it, which were, methought, of too youthful and too amorous a character, to intrude themselves into the solitude of Cicero. I read them, and as soon as I had found him, I begin now to believe, said I to him, that the reports which fly about Rome, have something of truth in them, and that you do not court this Retirement for your Mistress, but in reference to some other. Cicero seemed to be a little troubled at my Compliment; but presently recomposing himself; These are Fables of my Wife's invention, said he; who willing to cast a blemish upon the just reasons, I had to repudiate her, alledges a chimerical Amour for the ground and colour of her reproaches. Was it to give a colour to this Fable? answered I, smiling, that your Wife came hither privately to carve Ciphers upon your Trees, intermixed with crossed Darts, and other Gallantries, which I found so ingenuously flourished upon your young Pines? Cicero seeming to take no notice of what I shown him, confessed his guilt by a sudden blush; and this second surprise, confirming what the first had hinted to me, he thought, I believe, that it would be to no purpose for his lips to deny that, which his eyes had declared to me already.  
It is not to be denied, Virgil, said he, with as much tenderness as confusion, that my age, study, and my vexatious resentments for the public disorders, have not the power to secure from me the invasions of that passion, wherewith you reproach me. Love neither respects the gravity of years, nor the juncture of affairs; and as long as we possess Hearts animated by Life, we aught to fear, that we may be robbed of them by Love. I reposed a most entire presumption in the Maxims of Nature; nor could I believe, that at the years of that discretion, wherewith the number of them aught to have inspired me, I could have been capable of the wanton flames of Youth. But I found that the Politics of age, transcend those of Eloquence; which causes the Soul to participate of the weakness of the Body: And methought, that in the vigour of my youthful years, I had one of greater courage and proof, than I have now, against the attack of that Passion.  
I was too sensible myself of the power of Love, to wonder at the effects it produced in Cicero. I attributed all the applauses, he could desire, to his aged frenzy; and this approbation winning his confidence, he invited me to see his Mistress. But, my Lord, how incredible do you think, was my astonishment, when I saw it was the same Phila, whom I so passionately affected? The ripest wisdom, or the firmest courage would have wanted resolution to encounter such a surprise. I made a loud exclamation, which was able to make a clear discovery of my heart. Phila's admiration was not inferior to mine, and Cicero's being as great, as that of either of us both, he gave us the liberty of entertaining one another with a long discourse, not having the power to interrupt us.  
How Phila? said I to her; Are you become the absolute Mistress of your own disposal? Is the prolongation of your disguise expired? Were you not informed I was in Rome? Were you so near it, and would not sand to acquaint me with the place of your residence? I neither knew of your being in Rome, replied the fair Phila; nor, had I imagined it, would it have been possible for me to have sent to you. The restraint I am confined to will scarce suffer me to believe, that there is any such place as Rome in the World: and you aught to acknowledge that Love has wrought a great Miracle in your favour, that you have obtained the privilege of seeing me, or speaking to me. It shall never work such another, since this is so little in mine, interrupted Cicero; and whereas this first intrigue of my confidence, has proved so fatal, I renounce for ever all temptations of exposing it to a second: And having said this, he made a sign to an old Woman, who was Guardian over her, to withdraw her into an Arbour, which was near us; and measuring the Walks with long and hasty paces, expressed so much grief and vexation in all the motions of his person and countenance, that I began to fear some funest effect of his rage.  
How? Cicero, said I, is it you that inveigh with such zeal and violence against all invasions of the public liberty, and commit one of such horror and barbarism yourself? What prerogative can you challenge over this person? And by what authority do you pretend to usurp a right to enslave her to this unworthy condition? By the authority, which Parents may usurp over their Children, replied Cicero: Antiochus dying, with his last breath, bequeathed me all he was ever Master of: and since the Prerogative, he has given me over her, is become so incompatible with your desires, I advice you, as a friend, to use your early endeavours to suppress them. Phila is my right only; I received her as a Legacy from her Father; and that you may not suspect, that I tyrannically usurp a power, which I have no title to, see here, said he, drawing a Paper out of his Pocket, the last Will and Desires of that good man. I read the Writing he put into my hands, and found that Antiochus, after he had magnified by many endearing expressions, the friendship contracted betwixt himself and Cicero, during his sojourn in Athens, in the time of Sylla's Tyranny, declared, That he consigned wholly to him the tuition and guardianship of his only Daughter; advertised him where he should found her in Rome under the name of Plautia, and desired him to take her to Wife, since his divorce from his own, gave him the liberty of a second Marriage; or else to choose a Husband for her, with the same freedom and authority, as he should have used himself, had Heaven conserved his life. Do you judge now, went he on, that whither after what I told you, at the beginning of our converse, I shall not take care to see the last Will of my dying Friend executed with all fidelity? Can you be so vain, to conceive any hopes of ravishing Phila out of my hands, or the power of my desires? And do you imagine, that if I could have been able to have subdued them, I would not have done it long since for my own consideration, rather than now for yours.  
I combated the design of Cicero, with all the vehemency, and all the eloquence, love could inspire me with; and not that day only, but many more following also. I omitted neither entreaties, nor arguments to oblige him to restore Phila to her native liberty, and that of choosing a Husband for herself. Methought, they began to make some impression upon his relenting obstinacy; Great Souls will always at last reassume their own character; and the first weakness, they are capable of, are but, as sudden storms, which as suddenly pass. But the flight of Phila destroyed in a moment all these glorious hopes; and though, to do Cicero justice, I am obliged to say, that he was ready in favour of my inclinations to impose a violence upon his own, yet I must likewise declare, that he has been the fatal author of all the calamities and discontents, my life has ever since been forced to groan under.  
It is not Cicero alone, whom you aught to make the subject of your accusations, said Cornelius, I am acquainted with all the particulars of Phila's flight; and though she always conserved that which concerned you, as a most nice secret, from my knowledge, I have some cause to apprehended, that a Rival who lay concealled, has done you more injury, than that which openly professed himself to be so.  
Cornelius could not have the opportunity of explaining this Mystery to Virgil; for the arrival of Crassus (who having taken his last leave of Rome, and understanding that this Praetor, who was his particular friend, was to lodge in Tusculum that night, had taken it in his way) interrupted their farther discourse. They comforted each other in their disgrace and sufferings; and projected those designs, which a little after sent them both away to visit their Fellow-Heroes in the Isle of Thalassia.   
FINIS.   

Books Printed for Henry Herringman.  

Folio, Large.  
SIr William Dugdale's Baronage of England, 

His Origines Judiciales.  
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Beaumond and Fletcher's Plays, all that were formerly Quarto and Folio put together into one Volume.  
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Sir William D'avenants' Works.  
Dr. William Howells History of the World to Constantine the Great.  
Henry the Eighth, Written by the Lord Herbert.  
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howel's History of Venice.  
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The Fair Favourite.  
Man's the Master.  
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News from Plymouth.  
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Pelius and Thetis.   

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Don Carlos, Prince of Spain  
Prince of Conde.   
FINIS.