DELIGHTFUL NOVELS Exemplifyed in Eight CHOICE and ELEGANT HISTORIES Lately Related by the most REFINED WITS; With INTERLUDES. In which are Comprised The Gallant Adventures, Amorous Intrigues, and Famous Erterprises of several ENGLISH GENTRY. With the most Pathetic Oratory and Subtle Stratagems used in LOVE-AFFAIRS. The Fourth Impression, Enlarged with the Addition of Two New Novels. LONDON, Printed for Benjamin Crayle, at the Lamb in Fle●●street, near White-Friers-Ga●e. 1686. Advertisement of some BOOKS Lately Printed for and Sold by Benjamin Crayle, at the Lamb in Fleetstreet, next White-Friers-Gate. 1. THE Beauty of Holiness, written by the Author of the Whole Duty of Man, etc. To which is Added Holy Devotions on several Occasions, Fitted to the main Uses of a Christian Life. The fourth Impression in Octavo. 2. The Christians Companion, or a Guide to the Holy Scriptures, discovering the Hidden Treasures contained in the New Testament, and explaining the difficult and intricate Texts throughout every Chapter. By a Reverend Divine of the Church of England, in a small Vol. Octavo. 3. The Queen's Closet Opened, Comprehending several Hundreds of Experienced Receipts, and Incomparable Secrets in Physic, Chirurgery, Preserving, Cookery, etc. which were presented to the Queen by the most Eminent Doctors in Physic, Surgeons, Oculists, and divers Persons of Honour, whose Names are Fixed to their several Receipts, The Last Edition Corrected and Enlarged with many New and Late Additions. 12●. price 2 s. 4. The Glory of God's Revenge against the Bloody and Detestable Sins of Murder and Adultery, Expressed in Thirty Modern Tragical Histories. To which are Annexed, the Triumphs of Friendship and Chastity, in some Illustrious Examples. By Tho. Wrig●t. M. A. Octavo, price 2 s 6 d. 5. Cocker's Morals, or The Muse's Spring-Garden, adorned with many Sententious Distiches and Poems, in Alphabetical Order, for the Use of Writing-Schools, etc. 4 to. price 6 d. 6. Delightful Novels, Exemplifyed in Eight Choice and Elegant Histories, lately Related by the most Refined Wits, with Interludes, 12o. price bound 1 s. The BOOKSELLER to the READER. Courteous Reader, THou art here presented with a Novel Banquet, which in the pleasantness and Variety of the Subject, and the several Comical and surprising Circumstances, I am confident will be no less Grateful to Thee than I intent it. I must confess, the Critical Palates of the Age have been too much Nauseated with lean and Jejune Discourses of this Nature, especially when the Regalio has been prepared by unskilful Hands; But this being both the Business and Diversion of a Person eminent at Court for Wit and Parts; I dare Promise Thee th● Polynant Relish, which will not ● but satisfy the most Curious or 〈◊〉 severest Judge. These ensuing Histories were writ by a Worthy and Learned Pen, at the Request of some Gentlemen and Ladies, and now Published from his own Manuscript, that the more Ingenious Part of the World may share in that Recreation, which was at first designed for the private Entertainment of some Persons of Honour. The Stories are here told under feigned Names, that we might preserve that Respect and Reverence due to their Title and Grandeur. But I shall no farther enhance thy Expectation of the following Treatise; An Invitation is Civil and Modish, and so far I only offer it, though I do 〈◊〉 Question but every Guest will meet ●●●●h a Dish will give him some obliging Gusto. B. ●. THE INTRODUCTION THe Noble Melintus, whose Arms abroad had been no less Successful than his Amours at Court, the one Rendering his Name equally terrible to his Foes, as the other did his Person, Lovely to those Beauteous Ladies his Generous Addresses had Acquainted him with; On a sudden forsook the Court, and Sighed away his bitter Hours in a Solitary Retirement. When the News was Spread, the Noble Melintus was withdrawn, it Raised a Wonder in all; His own Merits having Gained him more than Ordinary favour from his Prince, and his Courtly presence, and Obliging Mean Won a respect from all that knew him. The Count his Uncle more particularly Enquired the Reason of his present discontent, from whom at length with much difficulty, he Forced a discovery. I must, my Lord, (says Melintus) Bless that Happy Minute when first I saw the Matchless Corinna, and Curse the Severity of my Stars whose kinder Influence ought to have given Her more constancy, or me less concern, for that Loss, I now but in vain Lament, she's gone! My Lord, she's lost to Me for ever! My hated Rival now Surfeits with delights in those Curling Arms I once thought mine; Every kiss he takes is a Blessing stolen from Me, nor has He Honour enough to pity, but Scorns, laughs at my Miseries, and with the Memory of my sufferings, whets his Cloyd Appetite to fresh Enjoyments, Melintus would have proceeded, but the Count hav●ng now the true Cause of his Melancholy, chose rather to divert his Passion then Encourage it by a further discourse upon the same Unhappy Subject; And like a subtle rhetorician with undiscerned Charms, led his heedless Auditor wide from his present Theme of Sorrow, to a more Soft and Comical Entertainment: And when he took leave promised to send Geronto, his old witty Companion, and some others of his Friends, both Gentlemen and Ladies, the next Afternoon to Visit him; Wh●se facetious Humours, and pleasant Conversation would divert his Melanchely, and prove the most powerful Cordial to recover a despairing Lover. Accordingly the next day, Geronto, Lysander, Florimell and Aurelia, went over to Barn-Elms, where Melintus had for some days passed Concealed himself, that he might more luxuriously Indulge his discontented thoughts free from the Trouble of Ceremonious Visitants. No sooner had they saluted Melintus, whose Cloudy Forehead spoke the present Anguish of his Soul; But in came Parmenio and Philotas, each leading his Mistress, the fair Evadne and Beautiful Theodosia. Melintus was not a little Surprised to see his Friends Crowd in so fast upon him, when Geronto (their Mutual Civilities being past began to Rally Melintus with such sharp Excursions as his great Wit had always privileged him to at Court, and his Intimate acquaintance might now more freely Challenge from his Friend, the little bicker with Repartees being over, in which the Ladies, especially Florimell, lost no advantage, they fell upon more Composed Discourses, and as nothing could be more agreeable to the Company, nor any Subject more proper than that of Love, Geronto whose Talon was great that way, first broke the Ice, and began with this Harangue, NOVEL the First. By GERONTO. A Gentleman, younger Brother of a very good Family in the West of England, having had the advantage of a Liberal Education at the University of Cambridge, left those happy Walls, esteeming that sort of Colleg●ate Imprisonment too narrow for his more aspiring and ambitious Thoughts, which now began to feel the heats of Love, and Warmer desires of attaining that pitch of Honour and Reputation his Ancestors had Arrived to. Having thus taken leave of his Studies, he returned into the Country to receive the plentiful provision his Father had by Will assigned him, which amounted to 4000 li. on which foundation (tho' Inconsiderable to what his elder Brother enjoyed) he doubted not to raise as Substantial a fortune by his Industrious Improvement as his Birthright had denied him: With this Intention, knowing the Barren Soil of a Country Life, was not so fit to accomplish his designs as the more fruitful employments that attende● a Court and City, he repaired to London: But bringing with him a Temper too Generous to Flatter, and too Gentile to Cousin, he quickly found without the first he must expect no preferment at Court, and wanting the Second it was Impossible to advantage himself amid a Crowd, whose only patrimony was their craft. In the midst of these Thoughts he had often resolved to return to the more innocent diversions of the Country; But finding himself entangled in his Affairs, and engaged in the acquaintance of the Town Gallants, who at first had insensibly wrought him into their Society, by those Nets and Subtletys' they Spread to catch the heedless and Unwary; And being softened by the charms and allurements of the fairer Sex, to whose Visits he was every day enticed, he found it impossible to discharge himself of these Inconveniences, tho' he had before his Eyes the most dismal prospect of misery, and inevitable Ruin of his Fortune's which now beg●n to consume a pace, an● in three years' time the whole Treasure was quite Exhausted. His Companions who had so often been relieved by his Generous kindness were so far from pitying or Assisting him in these distresses, that like the Summer Birds, they left his Wintered Quarters to seek a Spring in some warmer Climate, without the least Gratitude or kind remembrance of those Lavish kindnesses with which they had been so often refreshed? In thi● Condition, Repentance, the usual Comrade of distress, presented her wrinkled Face to the poor undone Youth, and brought into his Thoughts his f●rm●r miscarriges, but with all left him destitute of any obliging Clue to Extricate himself fr●m the Labyrinth his follies and Misfortunes had Ensnared him in. How ready he then was to curse the Influence of those Stars that frowned at his Birth, and Raised in his own Breast an Enemy against himself; To blame his past Improvidence, and all the Obliquityes of his former Conduct; They can best Judge who have seen and known how few Friend's adversity affords, and how the pleasures of former prosperity are the bitterest Ingredients of present Calamity. In this deplorable Estate after that by renewed solicitations he had wearied all his Friends, Poverty began to grow Shameful, his wont Embroideryes were now worn into Rags, the Treats and Regalios ' with which he had tired out the day, and Stole from the Hours of Rest to Solace himself with, now Tantalised his present Hunger; His Beds of Down and softer Companions of Nightly Amours, were now no more, a Numerous concourse of Dunns with their Loud Alarms broke his Rest, and like Hornets with their Stinging Demands, perpetually tormented him, and he who but a little before was the Court and admiration of every Flattering Sycophant, is now their Scorn and Laughter. Instead of his Liveryed Attendants, the Staff Officers w●tch his Steps, and nothing but the infamy of a Prison and the Gripes of penury, are the thoughts with which he Entertains himself; So that being forced to the utmost Extremity, he resolved rather with the Prodigal, to return to his Father's House, than feed upon Husks amongst the London Swine; To which End, having Raised as much Money as the remains of his Movables would pledge for, he began his Journey for the West, hoping his Friends would Commiserate his indigent Condition, however one Blessing he was sure of, to be out of the Noise and Clamour of his Ravenous Creditors. His Money being short he was forced to Travel on Foot, nor had he hopes it could carry him to his Journey End, but resolving to trust his better fortune he set forward; And having Traveled three days saw the last penny disposed of. The Evening now drew on apace, and he found himself Extremely wearied, no prospect of a Town to lodge at, or Money to pay for't, or other necessaries he had occasion for, going heavily on under so great a load of trouble and discontent, and pondering with himself, if it was altogether impossible for the wit of Man to find out a Remedy for these present Evils, lifting up his eyes, at a distance espied a Country Village half a Mile before him, which as soon as he had overtaken, he fate down under a Hedge which belonged to a Neighbouring House, to consider what course to take to relieve his present want: Upon this Hedge there were several pieces of Linen hung out to dry, and tho' it was now late in the Evening, yet such was their Security and so great the Honesty of those Country Hobbs, that they feared no filching hand to Thieve them away; the full Moon which with her Silver Beams supplied the Brightness of the Golden day, discovered the Temptation to him, nor could he observe any Person near to Guard the Hedge: But being never used to Steal, he was very loath to begin now, nor was he less Averse to Beg; But urged by his extremities he was about to bear away some of the Linen; when putting his Hand into his Pocket he found a pair of Dice; Are you here still? Said he, here still? To torment, but not assist Me! Oh base and bewitching Tools, the Wiseman's scorn Charms to the fool, and Panders to the Knave! here still; To refresh my Memory how you Ruined and deceived Me! I have heard amongst your friends you have been Styled, the substance of hope, the miserable Man's last relief, and is it possible to find one sitter to receive your favours then myself; Assist me then, and Umpire between my necessity and Honesty, whilst I pursue my Intentions to play fairly with this Hedge for the Linen it is Clothed with, and less needs then my distressed Shoulders, which want a Covering. Y●t am I resolved, if you cross my hopes, I will yet be Just to my Losses and pay what you decree against me, and i you strip me I shall then forswear your Assistance for the Future, and trust myself Naked to the Charity of well disposed Christians, from whom I will hope for that good fortune and Reasonable relief which you deny me, Come then and let's try the Chances; Here Mr. Hedge, my Hat against that shirt: 7 is the Main, have at it; 12, Pox ont', out at the first Throw! There't goes again, my Coat against those two Handkerchiefs and four Aprons, 6 is the Main, now 12 good Dice, or I'm undone, ha'! 5 to 6, I've the worst on't, b●t away, now Cater Ace, Tra Deuce, what are you? Cater Deuce, the Devils in the Dice, than I must strip, Curse on ill Luck! But ne'er be faint hearted; come, nay Breeches you must go to, 9 is the main, have at it: what now, Deuce Ace? The Devil take all ill Luck, well, here's stockings and Shoes yet, what's there 8? Now good sweet Honey. Dice be kind, Pox on't, (4) to 8, it's two to one against me humph! Sice Deuce, I've lost it, there's no hopes, Ruin is my portion, well I have nothing left now but my Shirt, and so farewell all; Here the Dice began to Repent, and the Spark won back his Clothes, and as much Linen from the Hedge as was necessary to supply his present Occasions, nor was he covetous of more, which he Packed up into a Bundle and Trudged forward thanking his Stars for his good Success. But not many paces was he gone before he was pursued by the Owner, (who standing undiscovered behind a Tree was an Eye witness of this strange Adventure,) and easily overtaken, by whom being questioned about the Linen, he no ways Endeavoured to Conceal, but Justified himself in the Fact, telling him he came honestly by them, and would keep them, and make good his Title before any Magistrate in England. Enraged with this Answer, the Countryman with Loud Outcries rai●'d the Neighbourhood, who passed their Censure and with words and blows both threatened and punished him: In so much that he was fo●c'd to desire a Truce and entreat a hearing but had he s●oke loud as the Northwind the Women would have Silenced him; O Rogue, says On●, I'm glad we have found you, now I know how my Peu●trey went, which I charged on the more innocent Fox, 'tis you Sirrah had them, and you shall pay for them. W●ll ●aid, Neighbour, says another, let's make ●n example of him, this is the Rascal, I believe, ●ame a begging t'other day, and whilst I was gathering sticks Stole the Beef out of my P●t, and had like to have Ravished my D●ughter▪ Ha●g him: Hang him, Thief: Scolds the Chorus. He endeavoured to lay this Storm by mild excuses, t●lling them he was a Gentleman and aught to Answer what he had done before a Magistrate, all which did but the more incense the Rabble, who had certainly torn him in pieces, had not a Farmer's Daughter, taken with his Shape and port, persuaded her Sweetheart Richard to use his Oratory for the Gentleman's safety, which he not at all Curious in, did it to this ●ffect. Fie, Neighbours, I think the Devil's in you, won't you hear a man speak, let Me tell you, it doth not become us to be Executioners to a Thief, that's the Hangman's Work. If he has been a Rogue let the Jailor ●ave him, and the Rope Throttle him, but why should our Hands save them a labour, our Landlord's a Wise Man and a Justice, let's carry him thither, and I warrant you Mr. George his Clerk will quickly take Care to send him where he best deserves. Away with him, Away with him replied the rest, which was no Unwelcome News to Honoriu●, (for so let us henceforth call the Unfortunate Youth) hoping he should find a Gentleman of those Generous Sentiments, who upon the Relation of all Circumstances would Commiserate his Condition and assist his necessities, they carried him to the House of a very Worthy Gentlem●n, to whom they represented th● Crime with all the complaints and aggravations their Country Rhetoric could advance, entreating his Worship to make a public example of so Notorious an Offender. To which Accusation, the Justice demanded of Honorius what he had to say fo● himself; Who Replied, I shall not Worthy Sir, go about to deny or Evade what I am Charged with, as to the taking away the Goods my Accusers Claim, but as a Stranger and a Gentleman (however I appear under this disguise of habit) I humbly Entreat your Favour to hear me a few words in private, and I do not doubt but your Worship will then think me not so heinously Guilty as my Accusers would persuade you to. The Port and demeanour of Honorius, together w●th the gracefulness of his Elocution, so far wrought upon the Justice as to dismiss the Crowd, Restoring to the party his Goods, and giving them his promises that he would take care o● the Criminal. No sooner were they departed, but Honorius proceeded to acquaint the Justice with his condition in every point, and how, u●g'd to what he did by the force of Necessity, which he hoped his goodness a●d Charity would rather pity, then punish with the Severity of Law. The Justice extremely taken with the pleasantness of the Relation, told Honorius he was fallen into such Hands as would not Injure him, rather Contribute to his Relief: But since, pursues he, you are Charged with a Crime of this Nature, think not but I will Inflict a punishment on you, and as your Crime is Venial, your punish-shall not exceed it. All that I require of you is that you lie in my House this Night, and take that Accommodations the same can afford you, as to my Table and Cellar, or what else you please to Command; Yet your Lodging must be in a Chamber which has been haunted for these three years passed with the Apparition of a Ch● st, and so frighted those who have seen it, that no Person yet was ever so hardy to speak to it. If on these Condition's you like to be my Guest, you shall find a hearty welcome and a supply to carry you to the place you determine. Hono●ius with a grateful acknowledgement received the offer, and humbly thanked the Gentleman for his great favour to him, Telling him he was now doubly Obliged to his Misfortunes, as well that he had the Honour of knowing so Worthy a Person, as by this Adventure he might possibly make an Improvement in the Experimental part of Spectrism, which in his younger years he had only Read at the University; These and other Complyments m●ch pleased the Justice, who led him into the parlour, where wa● his Wife and Daughter, a Person ●f ●ncomparable Beauty and richly Furnished with all the Ornaments of Body and Mind, to whom after he had recounted how the Gentleman had promised him to ●ye in the Haunted Room, and speak to the G●ost if it did appear; He ordered his Servants to prepare Supper, and in the Interim called for Wine to entertain the stranger who thought himself extremely happy; The time passed away in a very agreeable Conversation, and the Justice was not a little pleased with the Modest behaviour of Honorius, nor did the young Lad● his Daughter less admire his person, ●h● vivacity of his Wit and the quaintness of his discourse, which tho' she end●avor'● to hid, plainly appeared in her kind and Obliging Glances, which Honorius soon perceived, and had taken further Encouragement had not the meaness of his present appearance dampt his aspiring T●ought●. But to shorten the Relation, Supper was ended, and the Ladies withdrew to their Chambers, at such time as the old Gentleman conducted Honorius to an exc●llent Room well Furnished with all things convenient and Ornamental, telling him Jocosely. That must be his Prison for this Night, and as many more as he Thought fit. And w●shing him good Night, Withdrew. The Complyment was returned by Honorius who was well provided with Fire and Candle, and Bottles of Wine, that the Devil might have the less power over him. Being now alone he had leisure to consider his present Circumstances, when reflecting on the Beauty of the young Lady, and the kind looks she bestowed on him, he began to hope they might be the presages of his better fortune, which now seemed once again to Smile upon him. With these Thoughts he went to Bed not much Concerned with the apprehensions of what had been told him, yet not altogether slighting the danger he might be in, kept his Candle burning; and being re●dy to take the Sweets of Rest the Clock struck one, at which time the whole House was very quiet, and not the least Noise to disturb him. Musing with himself about his present fortune, he thought he heard something Trip along the Gallery before his Chamber, whilst more regardfully attending he saw his Chamber door open, and in a Night dress he perceived a Person as he thought enter and take two or three Rounds about the Room, and at length open a Closet door. This Apparition tho' it seemed not so dismally frightful, yet struck him with a present horror, which whilst he was more seriously considering, came out of the Closet and took a Second walk in the Chamber, and by degrees came nearer and nearer to his Bedside, which he diligently observing, his apprehensions of the danger grew stronger upon him, but taking courage was resolv●d to speak to it. With this intent looking steadfastly upon it, he thought he beheld the same face of the Young Lady he ha● se●n but ●ome few hours before, this abated his fears and Encouraged his Resolution. Rising out of his Bed he approached it, which se●m'd no h ng Shy of his advance, and drawing nearer took it by the hand, which h● found Soft and warm, an● as tru● Flesh and Blood as his own, and more curiously viewing the Face saw it to be the real Person of th● Young Lady, whose Body waked whilst all her Senses were fast locked up in the profoundest Sleep. His thoughts were now again at the same puzzle between his own desire's a●d th● Lady's Honour, as b●fore th●y had b●en between his necessity and Honesty, but the Temptation proved too strong for the tender Virtue of Vigorous Youth to withstand. Leading her to his Bedside he Softly laid her down and placed himself by her. But here should I recount the bold Trespass of his Hands, which found nothing of a Ghost about her, or the more daring attempts of his succeeding pleasures, my own Cheeks would blush at the Confidence of my Tongue; Nor is it possible to speak the Transports Honorius felt, I hope your kinder Imagination will supply the defects of my Expression. It is enough, that whilst Honorius was Revelling in the midst of that Garden of pleasure and stealing the forbidden fruit, the Lady Awaked. She had now be●n sensible of those delights from the o●l ging Embraces of her New Bedfellow, a●d t●ose kind Car●ss●s her waking fan y had presented her with, which she had n●ver found from the Cold Arms of her confident Sylvia; Whilst she lay thus considering what this strange Dream should be, or if a truth, what it meant; Her Senses being now more perfectly her own, she discovered herself in another Bed, when hearing her Lover's excuses and the many pardons he begged, She was ready to Swoon away at so strange a Surprisal, Oh Heaven's! Says She, what hast thou done? Oh Ravisher base and Unworthy Guest; Are t●ese thy acknowledgements of my Father's kindness: With Charms and Philtres to bewitch my Innocency, hadst thou no more regard to my spotless honour then thus betray me to perpetual Shame and Ignominy●; Dearest Madam, replied Honorius, if the Arraigned have leave to offer aught to arrest their Sentence, by the powers of Love, by all that's Sacred to you, Fly not from me before you hear my Defence. Think not, sweet Lady, that to Satisfy the rage of my burning lust or to Grasp such infinite happiness I would us● unworthy means; 'twas fortune gave you to m● Arms, and as well might the Sun disclose his Summer Beams, and the Earth refuse his Bounty, as I Shut my eyes against those glorious Beauties, whose Charms fired my heart, and ravished all my Senses; I saw you, Madam, walking in your Sleep, I saw your Naked Beauties, whose powers even Age itself though proud of its beasted abstinence could not resist; and may not youth be pardoned? If not, Let lose your anger, wrinkle your brow into a Frown, and assure yourself it shall be as mortal as the most venomed or pointed weapon death itself makes use of to destroy the guilty; or if this punishment be too flow for your fleet Revenge, plunge a Dagger in my Breast, which I had rather feel then once hear the dismal sound of that single word, Farewell; Yours Madam, let me Live for ever, or fall this minute a welcome Sacrifice to your injured Fame, 'tis I, Madam, I confess it, that Violated your unspotted Innocence, pure as the Mountain's Snow, & as the Winter's Ice, whom if your Mercy cannot pardon, let your Severest Justice Carve a Satisfaction from this offending Breast. With these and many other the like expressions did the Amorous Youth soothe the disconsolate Lady, till at last, overcome with his Importunities, with Tears of Joy She embraced the gladded Lover, and consented he Should live● Live then, says She, and let the same bright witnesser of your Trespass and my dishonour; hear our Marriage Vows, and see this Sacred Tie by which I am ever yours.— Honorius his best Expressions were now too poor to speak the Raptures of his Soul, nor certainly was ever Bridal Night passed over with greater pleasure and delight then this between the two Enamorists, in so much that the Shrill Messenger of the Morn had given Notice o● its approach their thought● strayed from their Enjoyments: But being apprehensive of a discovery, which was not yet ripe for the Father's Ear with aparting kiss they took leave of each other, she Engaging Honorius to make some excuse to prolong his stay, promised to return the next night to his Bed; which he received with all the Gratitude he could express for so great a favour. The Lady was now gone to her own Chamber, and Honorius was at leisure to consider the present state of his affairs, how his Shattered fortunes were now repaired, by an Extraordinary providence, beyond all hope or Expectation. This Lady was the only Child of her Parents, and Heiress to a very considerable Estate, and as Valuable for her Virtue, Beauty and all other accomplishments that might Complete the Happiness of a Lover, as any of her Sex. Whilst his thought● were employed in these ravishing Contemplations, his Senses began to t●re, and he fell asleep at the same time when the Justice and his Lady came into his Chamber, to Inquire how he had passed the Night, hearing the door open he Awakened, and after he had feigned himself discomposed, he acquainted them it was a real truth the Room was haunted, and that he had seen a Spirit, but he supposed t e same so far from Evil, that if ever Angels left their Heavenly abodes to come upon Earth, such was this and no worse; for tho' he had seen and Conversed with it, yet was he not in the least affrighted, nor did its discourse import any thing of harm to himself or the family, but what it had said he had been by Sacred Vow obliged not to discover, till such time as he had seen it again, for the too early Cock had Summoned it back to its unknown Mansions it had finished the Secret it came to discover. The gladded Justice embraced his Welcome Guest, and with the kindest words he could express himself, entreated his stay the following N●ght, & that he would make him happy in his farther Acquaintance; Less powerful Oratory would have persuaded Honorius to accept of that he so much coveted; however thankfully returning the Justice's Compliments he soon after Rose, and Spent the day in the Conversation of his New Friends. Nor was the Lady ever from his thoughts, or her blushes from her Cheeks, whenever sho Surprised his Strolling Eyes, catching Glances from hers at a distance. In short, the Second Night came, and the long expected hour of Meeting brought our Lovers to each others Arms; the Happy Minutes fled fast in their Mutual Embraces, whilst the Lazy intervals were Spent in contrivance how they should Gain her Parents consent to finish their Vowed Espousals. This the Lady undertook: It was now day break when Aemilia retired to Her Chamber, and taking a convenient opportunity that Morning in private, discovered to her Mother the w●ole Intrigue of her fortunes, and told her, it being usual with Her to repair to that Chamber in the day time to dress herself, and having often Spent her Hours in Reading in the Closet, being more particularly delighted with the prospect, she believed it had been Customary with Her for several years to walk this there in her Sleep, tho' it was never known till this Lucky Stranger h●d made the discovery. Nor did she Conceal the Important truth with all the Naked Circumstances, then praising the Generous Education and Endearing Carriage of Honorius begged her Mother with all the Pathetical Expressions of Love and tenderness, to intercede with her Father on his behalf; which sheet last promised. The old Gentleman was much Surprised at the Relation and severely blamed her unlawful Loves, but at the same time considering the Violence of his Daughter's affection, and the Honour of his Family, consented to Her Wishes, and went with them to Honorius his Chamber, whom he Saluted his Son in Law, and soon after Ordered the Consummation of their Nuptials, which were Celebrated with all Imaginable Joy and Splendour. About a Month after, Honorius and his Lady in a Coach and six Horses went down to Visit his Relations, who all Congratulated his Happy fortunes, which were soon after increased to a very great Estate by the unexpected Death of hss Elder Brother. Geronto having thus Finished his Relation the whole Company, especially Florimell, seemed extremely pleased with it; For indeed it was hardly possible for him to speak to any Subject, tho' never so mean and Trivial, but what his great Wit would always Beautify with those Charming Graces which won the constant Applause of his Auditors, an Excellence peculiar to himself in which few could ever Tolerably Imitate him. Melintus Thanked him for his pleasant Fancy as he called it, and told him a discourse of so much Mirth and Humour might have been better bestowed for his part, Melancholy had of late so prevailed upon him that all Comedy was as Harsh to his Ears, as the Clicking of a Death Watch to a Hoarding Miser. But Madam says he to Aurelia, if you please to Circulate the discourse as of Right it belongs to you, I remember a Story I have formerly had the Honour to hear you tell which if I mistake not was Tragically Unhappy, but as it then pleased with the Sadness of it, I am sure it would much more now, since my Vitiated Relishes nothing but what is Compounded of the bitterest Ingredients. Sir says Aurelia, I presume you meant the Story of Amasius and Ortelia, but I am afraid I shall unpardonably Transgress the Commands of my Lord your Uncle, and the passion of the Relation will affect you too ●e●r●y; Tho' who knows but Melancholy, which is only a more Natural poison, may be easiest Expelled by an Application of its own Temperament, however, Sir, your Commands will Apologise for me, which I thus Obey. NOVEL the Second. By AURELIA. A Young Gentleman whose Name was Amasi●●s, the only Son of an Opulent and well known Merchant of the City of London, after he had been furnished with a Competent Sharr of Learning, to Qualify him for the study of the Law, was placed at the Inns of Court, where the Advantages of his Fortunes and his own Modest behaviour gave him a Welcome reception amongst all his fellow Students. However after he had Spent two years there, his mind inclined to Travel, and Communicating his design to his Father, easily obtained his consent. After he had seen France and Italy he came to Brussels, and Spent about four Months in Flanders, and then removed to Amsterdam, where Lived a Gentleman who was his Father's correspondent, and an Eminent Merchant, at whose House he was invited to Lodge during his Residence there. This Gentleman who was of considerable Estate and quality, had great Resort of Company to his House, with whom Amasius soon acquainted himself, his Generous conversation and affable Temper rendered him Courted and beloved by all: He was likewise the Happy Father of three Daughters of so Incomparable Beauty that the whole Country could not produce their equals, nor were they less praised for a prudent Conduct, and Virtuous Education. With the youngest of these called Ortelia, it was the fortune of Amasius to fall in Love, and as if the same Loadstone had Attracted both their Hearts, the same passionate desires, warmed Ortelia's Breast, and t●o ' both of them were Shy of discovering their affections to one another, ●et no opportunity was missed in which by all the little Arts of Obligation an● kindness they strove to advance themselves in each others favour, his Courtship was most particularly to her, and her regards and Eye always upon him. If Amasius happened to sigh, Ortelia would turn her Face to hid her reply in the same Note; In this Condition for some Months did they live, whilst by degrees all the diversions of the Country, the Visits of Friends, Balls and Entertainments grew Nauseous to the Lover, and a settled Melancholy seized his Spirits. This was Observed by all his Acquaintance, but particularly by the compassionate Eyes of tender Ortelia, who seemed very much concerned lest the same (probably) might be for some more Happy Mistress he had l●ft in England, Under this anxiety and disquietude she had suffered some Weeks, which perhaps had wrought more effectual to her disadvantage, had not Amasius one day took an opportunity when she was alone in her Chamber, employed upon a piece of curious Needlework, wherein she had drawn the little God smiling at a disconsolate Lady whose Heart he had, newly struck with one of his Feathered Weapon's, prostrate at his Feet, as if she seemed by her tears and piteous looks to beg his Mercy. Taking notice of the fancy. Is it possible my dearest Ortelia, says he, you should be such an Artist in your Draughts of this God of love, and never feel a Dart from his quiver? How know you Sir, replied the Fair One, but what you have seen may have a nearer Relation to Me then you are pleased to Imagine, and that this wounded Lady may be a proper device to represent my Unfortunate self; That Madam is Impossible (pursues Amasius) for than should I view you in another posture, I should see you Seated on a Throne with Crowns and Sceptres at your Feet, an Imperial Canopy above your Head, supported by admiring Angels, disposing of bleeding hearts and my own amongst the Fatal Number. Oh Fie! replied she, you Compliment me Amasius, as if I were that Object of your happiest desires the Seas now part you from, and I cannot but believe at the same time you address your Commendations to Ortelia, you intent them to one more Lovely in your Esteem. I did not think Madam, replies Amasius, you was so much a Stranger to your own perfections, to believe these Eyes could be so much deceived, as to place my respects on any other Object; Oh no assure yourself that if Amasius must not be admitted to admire his Ortelia to steal a kiss, and Imprint his Lips on those fair Hands, to Languish at your Feet, and beg your Compassion, the grave shall have my Courtship, and for ever will I bid Adieu to all the empty pleasures on this side the Dust. With these and such like Courtly Expressions as opportunity would give leave, did our Enamoured Pair pass away the Hours, and give each other the assurance of as strong and lasting an Affection as Love itself could implant in the minds of the most passionate; Nor was the same so secretly cautioned, but that the Parents of Ortelia took Notice of its Growth, which as they saw no reason to discourage, so neither would they give Licence to the continuance of it, till such ●ime as Anasius his Father was acquainted with it and they had obtained his consent. To which purpose th● Dutch Merchant discoursed Amasius, te●ling him, that he was on his part ready to give Ortelia a proportionable fortune to what his Father should settle on him, and was no ways averse to his Marriage with his Daughter. Amasius with tears of Joy returned his acknowledgements; and Entreated him by all the Endearments Imaginable, 〈◊〉 the next Packet to acquaint his Father with it, and beg his leave that it might be forthwith Consummated, this he promised, and accordingly did; This Letter Amasius, Seconded with one of his own, wherein he described the Virtues and agreeable sweetness of Ortelia's temper, begging pardon that without his leave his thoughts had been fixed upon her, which he believed were directed by the Hand of providence, and designed by Heaven for the Establishment of his future happiness. The Father was well pleased with the proposals made by his Correspondent, and in a short time after returned his consent. This was certainly welcomed with no inconsiderable Joy by the Lovers, who had Spent the last month in fear that some cross accident might Obviate their expectations, or at least procrastinate their Nuptials, which they so earnestly wished for, But having now the Consent of their Parents Concurrent with their own desires, the day o● Marriage was agreed upon to be within a fortnight, and all necessary preparations taken care of, to render it as Splendid as public. The pulses of our Lovers be at nothing but desire, 〈◊〉 the Minutes seemed to Travel on Crutches and the Hours with a snails place followed after. Ten days were now past and the Eleventh had showed his Face, when early in the Morning a Letter came by a particular Hand to Amasius from his Father, the Contents were in these words. My Dear Amasius, If ever thou intendest to see thy Living Father, and as thou tenderest my Blessing upon Sight of this, without any delay make all possible haste to Thy Loving and Dying Father. R. A. Never did the young Swain with greater Horror s●e the Enlightened thy Da t out a growing Thunderbolt amidst his harmless flock, than did Amasius receive this kill Message which struck his Enlivened Joy into Mortal apprehensions. A Command so peremptory admitted no excuse nor can I relate with how great a discontent, he was forced to obey the Mandate, or in the least proportion express the sad Farewell, he w●s constrained to take of his weeping Ort●●lia. The tears they Shed or ●he Sighs that broke prison from their Breasts, were as innumerable as the tears of Autumn, or the drops that f● l ●he Ocean; yet obedience was indisputable, and his dolatory and unwilling departure Criminal; in short, he Sighed and vowed Eternal Love, promised his return, & almost dying on her Lips in his last salute, took leave & repaired to his Ship which waited for him. The willing winds wafted him unwillingly from the Joy of his Soul, and in a few Hours he lost fight of shore, where he had continually fixed his Eyes, and left his dearest treasure; In every blast he thought he heard Ortelias' lamentation, and grew angry with the Churlish winds that they would not do him the s●me kind Office and return his Sighs to Her. His Voyage was but too prosperous in Conveying him thence, though in some measure he was pleased therewith in that it gave him hopes he should be the less while from the Mistress of his affections, with whom he had left his heart the pledge of his resolved return. In a few days he arrived at London where he found his Father upon recovery from a dangerous sickness in w●ich hi● Physicians had dispaired of his Life. The old Gentleman welcomed his beloved Am●sius with the hearty affections of an Indulgent Father, whilst he Congratulated his escape from the Grave with all the Transports of a dutiful Son; After a little time he recovered a good state of hea●t●, and received the Visits of his Friends and Neighbours. The General Accomplishments of Am●sius his affable discourse and Courteous behaviour were observed by all, who Commended him for the most complete Gentleman they had ever seen, amongst others an Ancient Gentleman, Master of a great Estate and Father of one only Daughter to inherit it; proposed her to Amasius his Father as a convenient Match for his Son, at such time as he had procured his leave to departed and Consummate his Bliss with the Beauteous Ortelio. This o●d Fox knowing that her fortune would triple what was offered with Ortelia, greedily devoured the bait, and Commanded Am●sius to forget his first, and apply his Addresses to this Second Mystress, which tho' he refused with all the prayers and Gentle Arguments Love could Muster on his behalf, by the recital of those many and Sacred Vows he had p●ss'd, and the miseries he must certainly meet in the Violation of that Troth wh●c Heaven itself had been witness to, yet the passionate Father, wholly devoted to his Interest, would by no means be prevailed upon, but enjoined him by his Paternal Authority and as h● hoped to heir his Favour and fortune●, to obey his Command wretchedly miserable was the Condition of Amasius, but complaints were in Vain, the old Men w●re agreed and he must submit or incur his Father's utmost displeasure. However not all their Art or Industry could over alienate his thoughts from his dear Ortelia. She was constantly in his Eye and the Subject of every Melancholy Soliloquy that he rep ated to the careless winds and unanswering Groves, where he Sighed away his tedious Hours. In Memory of her the tender Trees were wounded to Carve her Name, and every kind Turf that used to be his Couch was Nourished by the dew that fell from his Eyes; The Bir●s forgot their Notes, and learned to Sympathise with him, and Echo itself repeated nothing but Ortelia's Name. Every one Compassionated the unhappy Youth; but the Cruel Father, who seeing all things in the Mirror of his own Sordid Interest forced Amasius to Visit h●s designed Wise; but how Cold and unlike a Lover his Addresses were, the young Lady quickly took Notice of, and acquainted her Parents with it, which was not long before it came to his Father's ears, who the more he found him Averse to his Humour, the more did he press th● same, and charged him as undutiful and Rebellious to his Commands, which by all that was Sacred he Vowed he should perform. To this end he forthwith enjoined a Second Visit which disconsolate Am●sius obeyed and having the opportunity of private discourse with the young Lady, who was a Person o●●qual discretion and Beauty he resolved to deal generously wi●h her, and lay his present Condition naked b fore her. To this end after some short discourse leading to his purpose he told her he was infinitely troubled that he had not a heart▪ that he could ●ntirely devote to her Service, but that the same was possessed by another whose Charms not long before had made an absolute Conquest over him, and to whom by all the Vows and promises that Lovers make, he was in the strictest sort obliged; So that should he go about to deceive h●r by Counterfeiting a passion that could never be real, he should play the Traitor with a Lady, who had for●er Virtues and Incomparable deserts so mu●h of his esteem, that he could never pardon himself so great a crime. The young Lady was extremely pleased with his Ingenious Confession, and promised she would on her part never go about to make him guilty of the br●a●h of those Vow, she looked upon above all o●h●rs, to have som● th●ng more awful and Religious in them and exacted the most sincere observance: But on the contrary she would endeavour what lay in her power to divert her Father from his design. Ah Madam! replied the gladded A●asius, and can you be so kind, so forgetful of my faults, and give me your pardon, then may I hope once more to be happy. You have it Sir, says the Lady, and an Esteem with it Suitable to your Merits, for surely there is none who knows your Circumstances but must Commend you, and to Evince to the World, I am one of that Number, the blame shall be mine; and if you please, in Obedience to your Father's Commands, to pursue your Courtship, the Breach shall appear on my part. It's Heaven! Heaven Madam! Replied the overjoyed Am●sius, that must repay this favour, which all my Stock of Gratitude is too poor to Answer in the least degree. These and such like discourses were the Entertainment of the Second Meeting wherein it was resolved Amasius should carry on his seeming Addresses, and the refusal to be on the Lady's side, this he so lively personated, that in the eye of the World, he was loo●'d upon as absolutely Enamoured of her excellencyes as if the same had been real, upon which his Father received him with a double return of his respect and kindness to him. The old Gentleman having settled the whole affair between themselves, agreed the time and place to finish the Espousals, under which apprehension, let us change the Scene ●o Holland, where during the time of Amasius absence, the disconsolate Ortelia like the Mourning Turtle on her Melancholy perch, Sighed out her Sorrows in the longing expectation of her D●ar Amasius his return, but having by the miscarriage of his Letter for two Months heard nothing from him, began to think him unkind and forgetful of his Vows; when it happened an English Gentleman Travelling into those parts, and invited to her Father's House with other Friends one day to Dinner, amongst the variety of their discourse of England, and of their several acquaintance there, it was asked if he ●new Amasius his Father, how he did, and if perfectly recovered from his late Sickness, which he told them he was, and that his Son, the young Gentleman, was to be suddenly Married with a Lady to whom he had been some time Engaged. This unexpected News Surprised the whole Family, but especially Ortelia, who trembled and changed Colour at it; the question was renewed by Ortelias' Father, Sir, says he, I have some knowledge of the young Gentleman, and should be very glad to hear of his prosperity, and I entreat you, Sir, if you can to tell me more particularly the Person to whom, and the Grounds of your assurance that he is so soon to Change his Condition. In answer to which, the Gentleman told him her Name, described her Person and fortune, and withal gave her a very advantageous Character, as to her Virtues, her Beauty and excellent Temper▪ adding that be●ore he left England the day had been appointed; which he supposed wo●ld hap two days following, that he was with Amasi●s, and his Father when the Wedding Cloth●s were bo●ght, and other provisions made for the Solemnity. And is, pursues one of Orteli●● Sisters, Amasius as accomplished a Lover a● he seems a Gentleman; Doubtless Madam, sa●es the stranger, he wants nothing to Commend him to the World in all respects, and I have observed, (for I live near him) his Visits to be v●ry assiduous, his mean and address Vigorous and Courtly; The day I came for Holl●nd he waited upon her in a New Chariot Richly guilt, in which they both went to a play together. Perfidious Wretch! says O●telia to herself am I so soon forgotten!— Oh Am●si●s! and blushed and could scarce refrain her Eyes from expressing the Violenc● of her passion, which her Friends taking Notice of, diverted the discourse and Dinner being ended; She slipped from the Company to her Chamber, where after she had given her passion its full rage against the false Amasius, she fla●g herself down upon the Bed, where she lay till her Sisters came up to comfort her. But alas! too late, for the Torrent of her Griefs had already put a f●tal period to her life, and her Soul was fled to those Mansions of Bliss which she missed of here, so strange were their Surprise at so sudden a Disaster, that they could sca●ce believe their eyes, their loud shrieks and cries called up the House, and so excessive was the general Lamentation that it is b●yond the power of my expression to d●scribe it. I will now l●ave this House of Mourning and return to Amasi●s, who all this t●me h●● lived upon the Rack, and was against his will obliged to Act a part so directly contrary to his Inclinations and the ingenuity of his Temper; But this being at the Lady's request and known to her, it did the less concern him: On the other Hand ●he young Lady had used all her endeavours with her Father to put off the Match, alleging in herself a present indisposition o● health, and unwillingness so hastily to change her Condition, nor could she d scover, (whatever the world might see,) those Graces in Amasius his Person, or that agreeable humour in his conservation, that should tempt her to Marry him, and Hazard her future ●appiness in the Choice of a Husband she could never entirely Love. But all her arguments were in Vain, her perverse Father would permit no dispu●es, but sharply reproved her, Saying, not her Eyes should be the guide of her Choice, that should depend on his pleasure, that he was very well satisfied in Amasius, an● did expect nothing from her but a due Compliance to his Will. In this state their affairs stood ●ll the very Night was come which preceded the Morning of their Nuptials, on which a● they were discoursing together, Amasi●s on his knees begged her pardon that he must unwillingly take some other course to avoid that, which to any other man in the World would be the greatest Blessing his Soul could wish to enjoy on this side Heaven; But what the same should be he was not yet determined, but impossible it was, that he could be ever forced to betray his vows to Ortelia. The good Lady pitied his Condition, and begged him by no desperate Act to urge his Fate, telling him she would be ready to share his misfortunes, & equally suffer with h●m. The Evening grew on apace and Amasius with a Thousand thanks to the Generous Lady took leave, no ways resolved what to do, his wand'ring thoughts fell upon several Stratagems to defer the Wedding, but none of them pleased him, the Obstinacy of his Father was not to be remo●ed by all his prayers an● Entreaties. At last he resigned himself to his Pillow, and recommended the success of this great affair to the care and Conduct of his better Genius; however this point he fixed, that rather than break his Vows he would Venture the displeasure of his Father, and if no Mediation would reconcile him, he resolved for H●lland to l●ve and die with his Dear Ortelia. Often did he endeavour to Compose himself to rest, but the Troubles of his mind kept his Eyes open, nor had he slept a wink when the clock struck two, the Moon shone full upon the Window, and his Melancholy fancy was shaping the several Shadows into various representations and figures, when he t●ought he heard his door open, and turning his Eye he saw the Appearance of a Woman with a Mournful and pale look, enter his Chambers, startled at the Phantasm as he at first supposed it to be, after a little time he recovered himself & observing the figure more nearly, he thought he beheld the very Person of Ortelia, Clad all in white with her Hair disshrevelled, and at the End of every Lock a drop of Blood, which hung round her Shoulders like a Chain of Rubies, On her head she seemed to have a Crown of Gold set round with diamonds, Emeralds, Saphires, and other precious Stones of different Colour's whose Dazzling rays his weaker eyes could no more behold then the Sun in his Meridian Glory, thi● surprising Vision struck a sacred horror through every part, tho' the strangeness of the Apparition did not so much ass●ight as the Majestic Port and radiant Graces' pleased his admiting fancy: It moved in a gentle pace towards the Bed, and drawing the Curtains in a pleasing but hollow voice▪ spoke to him. Fear not, Amasius, for I am now too late satisfied of thy Fidelity to the Mistaken Ortelia, nor do I come from the Shades of Death, to reproach thy unconstant Love, it hath been the Misfortune of my Credulity, not thy Disloyalty, too late I knew it, to Remedy the dissolution I suffered; but the powers amongst whom I am, have since revealed the truth and tho' I can never be thine. Not mine, replied the trembling Amasias, not mine, Ortelia? Think not those Shades sh●ll ever hid thee, no Ortelia; if really thou art my Ortelia, surely thou couldst not think so hardly of me, but even amidst those dark Shadess below Amasius would seek thee out; and since our Destinies have forbid us to abide on Earth, is there no Society beneath it? thither I will follow thee, and Trac● every step of thine till I have wearied thy Fleeting Man●s and forced thee to repose, w●ere I will rest in thy bosom a●d enjoy the happiness of being ever with thee, Alas Amasius! Replied the Mournful Shade, little art thou learned in what we know, nor dare I tell thee what we are Subject to, who Travel in that great Abyss. Live therefore, Amasius, 'tis Heaven enjoins it, Heaven (to which in a short time my andring spirit must take its everlasting flight) bids thee not shake the Sands of life which in a short time will of themselves run out, much les● break the precious Christ all that contains them; long it will not he e'er we shall meet again and be for ever joined by Ties more Sacred than Flesh and Blood can admit of here. Oh Amasius, we shall be infinitely happy, but we must wait the leisure of Heaven to make us so. May that time quickly come, cries the passionate Amasius, move faster, O ye Sluggish Hours and huddle into days, ye days into years to accomplish that Happy period. 'Twill not be long first, said Ortelia, but in the mean time observe my Request, and do no Violence to yourself, nor ever consent to Marry the Person designed nor any other, and if you can possibly prevent it, never reveal one Syllable of this discourse, nor let the World know I have now appeared to you, for if you do, my restless Ghost will ever haunt you. I dare promise any thing thy Blessed Shade desires me, Replied Amasius, but to live is a punishment too intolerable for f●ail Mortality to bear, I'll cast off my hated Life w th' all the Gilded vanities that attend it, to be Blest amongst the N●mber of the dead, with the Sight of my Ortelia We must not, said She, Carve out our own desires, if we should, our unskilful Hand would oft mistake the Poison for the Antidote, but as thou Tenderest the Prayers and Entreaties of dead Ortelia, patiently attend thy Fate. At which word the Shrill Harbinger of the Morn gave Notice of the approach of day, and Summoned all wand'ring Ghosts to their dark abode; when Ortelia contracting her scattered Rays into one Glorious Beam of Light, cried Farewell! Farewell! My Dear Amasius, and vanished in a Minute. Amasius, seeing that Ortelia was now gone beyond recall, fell into these passionate Complaints, Oh kind Death, if ever thou hadst pity for the Miserable, suffer thyself this once to be entreated, discharge me from this Clog of earth which still sinks my aspiring Soul; See here a Resistless breast which begs but one single Shaft, and hast thou none at leisure? Insulting Tyrant to keep the wretched in Chains, and like the Conquered B●jazet make me the Gazing Stock of Fools, whilst I am imprisoned in this Cage of Flesh, but Oh! that like him, I could dash out life, against those Bars that hold me! Oh sad parting, Oh Dear O●telia! and art thou gone so soon from me, who perhaps may never see thee more? Come death and ease me, Oh cruel fate obey! No! no! I am condemned to Linger out a miserable life in pains, more Exquisite than the sharpest Martyrdoms, but thou dear Soul hast told me it shall not be long. Oh remember but thy last promise, and I will ask no more to complete me happy; with these and other dolorous Expression● did the Unhappy Amasius Vent his sorrows, whilst excess of passion had thrown him into a Violent Fever. In the Morn●ng early, his Friends came Crowding to his Chamber to bid good Morrow to the Bridegroom, and finding him in Bed yet, one of them began to Rally his Sluggishness, who on a Wedding-day when all the preparations for the Nuptials waited for him, and his Friends were Met to welcome the Happy Hour, was the greatest Loiterer himself: To whom Amasius only answered with a deep Sigh, which was followed by Showers of Tears, the most pathetic Oratory of a troubled Mind: what weeping, Amasius? says another, sye for shame, let the old and impotent who have worn out Youth, and are now cursed with the miseries of Age bewail the loss of those pleasures they once did Revel in; but thou art now in full possession of those riper Joys, and thy happier fortune speaks nothing but Mirth and Jollity. Pray forbear Sir, your Jests and spare your Raillery, at this time said Amasius, the Grave mu be my Marriage Bed, and Oh that I were now to dress myself, and be th●re undressed at N ght, with what cheerfulness should you then see m● c nsummate those wished for Espousals. But G ntl m●n, as you are my Friends let me beg of you to give me no farther disturbance, my thought are otherways disposed of then you imagine, and the greatest kindness you can do me is to leave me to my own Meditations. In so disconsolate a tone did Amas●us deliver himself, that he strangely Surprised the hearers with pity for his Condition, the reason of which they could not possibly imagine. His Father was immediately acquainted with it, who coming to his Bedside found him extremely ill, and fit for the Advice of the Physicians than the Entertainment of his Frien●s, or the intended Solemnity. The Doctors were sent for to consult of his present Distemper, who all agreed he was in a High Fever, but th●t the cause thereof was not External, but from some extraordinary grief which oppressed his Spirits, and was not to be removed by al● their Learned prescriptions, nor could they advise a more proper Cure then what they endeavoured to prevent his Death. For some week's in this miserable Condition, did he linger out the tedious Hours, to the great trouble and discomfort of his Relations, who daily Visited him, and as often pressed to know the cause of his present affliction, which he the more carefully strove to hid, nor could they Guess at any probable cause, but as they observed his deep Sighs, and then of a sudden his passionate and abrupt expressions of O dear O●telia, happy Ort●lia, but lost, but gone for ever O miserable wretch, miserable Amasius, I come, I come, my ●oy, my Dear Saint, I come, from whence they all concluded nothing but the Hand of Heaven could work a Cure on his Distempered mind, whilst his Body only Sympathized with the anguish of his Soul; in the mean time, his Father heard from his Dutch correspondent, how fatal his unkindness had been to his Family, who now began to see his own Error, and blame himself as the only cause of those Misfortunes in which they had both so great a Share; and that by crossing the Established Loves of Amasius and Ortelia (which received their Life an● vigour from his encouragement) he had occasioned the death of Beautiful Ortelia, and reduced his Son into those miseries and discontents from which he had but small hopes to recover him. However after six weeks Languishing under his illness, he began to grow into a better State of health, but his Melancholy increased upon him; Though his Father endeavoured by all imag●neable diversions to drive it from his wounded mind, and supposing he yet knew nothing of O●telia's Death, resolved to Conceal it from him, till he had in some measure Estranged his Affect●ons from her, which he hoped in time to Effect. But after two Months were passed, and Amasius was rather worse then better, he began to think that if his Son, knew of Ortelia's death an● the impossibility of ever enjoying her, it might by degrees quiet his troubled mind, and put him upon s●me thoughts of perfecting the Match he had designed him with much advantage. Accordingly one Evening he took an opportunity to disclose Ortelia's Death to him omitting those Circumstances that more particularly concerned her love to him, which would rather aggravate then allay his passion, Alas Sir! said Amasius, I have long since known more of that affair than you are pleased to Communicate to me now; I know that Ortelia is dead, and that Amasius can never be happy till he is so too; But for this I must blame the weakness of my Love, that what a Woman could do for me, I cannot for her, nor dare not, Since I am forbid all violent Remedies, which adds to my affliction, and prevents that Cure, which otherwise I would soon accomplish. His Father was strangely Surprised to see himself prevented in his discovery, and commanded Amasius to tell him how he came by his Intelligence, supposing that contrary to his order some of his Friends had acquainted him with it. Amasius humbly begged his Pardon, and assured him, it was not from his Relations or any Person else he had Entrusted with the Secret, that he came by the knowledge of it, and earnestly prayed him not to press that question any farther, which if in Obedience to his Commands he should be obliged to Answer, would yet add more to that weight of sorrow he so miserably laboured under. This made the old Gentleman his Father the more Inquisitive, who conjured him by that respect and duty he owed him as his Father, to give him a plain and Satisfactory account, which without any excuse he immediately expected from him. Well Sir, said Amasius, since you will extort a Secret from me, which of all things can only make me more Unhappy, take it, and Judge if my Duty to you is not above all regard to myself— Here Amasius acquainted his Father how he had s●en Ortelia, and the discourse he had with her, the Night before his intended Nuptials, Adding withal, that in declaring what he had forced him to, he should be the most miserable of Men, as the Sequel of his Unhappy Life approved him to be. Some time after his Father by the Advice of his Friends, removed Amasius into the Country, and having several Relations and acquaintance near York, that place was fixed upon, hoping that Change of Air and variety of Company might be of advantage to his Health, and a diversion to his Melancholy. But Alas! He never Enjoyed a Minute free from the thoughts of his fair deceased Ortelia, the only Intervals of pleasure he had, were when the kind Ghost of Ortetelia came to visit him, which she was often wont to do, or at least his deluded Fancy Imagined so, from that time (when by the Severity of his Father he was forced to discover that he had both seen and discoursed with her the Night before the intended Marriage.) At several times would he start upon a sudden from his Company, saying, do you not hear Ortelia's voice? I come, I come, my Dear, Ah there she is, pray do but observe how kindly the poor Ortelia looks on her Amasius, see how Melancholy and pale she is, how beautifully sorrowful she Glances at me, Oh my Dear I come, but when shall I come, never to part from thee more? Oh that this was that blessed Hour that would make me for ever happy with thee! And then retireing into the next Room, would talk with the same passionate Expressions of Love and tenderness to her, as if he did really Converse with her in the visible form of Flesh and Blood. Thus did he pass away about half a year, when one Night after he had been walking and discoursing with her for at least two Hours (tho' at all these several times she was never seen by any Person but himself, sometimes indeed they could distinguish two several Voices) when returning to his Friends more pleasant and Merry then ever he had been before, I thank Heaven, says he, my sorrows have now found a period; I have but few nights more to repose on Earth, and then shall I live with my Ortelia, and enjoy Eternal Rest of Body and Tranquillity of mind. That Night he Slept hearty and next Morning arose early in a most Serene and Composed Temper, at which his Friends were extremely pleased, and tho' they were much Surprised at the discourse of his approaching Death, yet seeing him continue so well for three days, they began to forget their fears, and please themselves with the vain hopes of his perfect recovery. The next day being Thursday, and Bowling-day, it was agreed they should take their Horses and Ride to the Green, and there Dine with other Gentlemen who usually Met there once a Week: Amasius cheerfully consented to it, which was the more taken Notice of, it being the first time they could ever prevail with him to go into a public Company, or divert himself with any Sociable Recreation. After Dinner they Bowled again, when a dispute arising about a Cast, Amasius took his friend's part, at which his Adversary was so Incensed (being a Choleric Person) that he struck him with his fist, but the Gentlemen who were present interposeing they prevented any farther Mischief. Amasius, who disdained to receive so public an Injury with the patience of a coward, withdrew into the Garden, and privately sent a note to the Gentleman to let him know, he there expected with his Sword in his Hand Satisfaction for the Affront he had put upon him. His adversary came, and after some few passes ran Amafius through the heart, of which he immediately died, and went with Joy to meet his Dear Ortelia in the Shades below, to the great Grief of his Father and all his friends, who had known his Virtuous and Honourable Accomplishments. Aurelia having thus Finished her Tragical Relation, Melintus paid her his more particular acknowledgements, nor did the Rest of the Company forget their Respects, tho' all thought it an unreasonable Entertainment for a Gentleman, whose present Distemper had too much affinity to Honorius his Melancholy passion, and were not a little apprehensive of the ill Effects it might produce. However to prevent his being too serious and considerate upon it, Lysander, who was next in the Rota, took his turn and thus addressed to the Company. NOVEL the Third. By LYSANDER. IT was the unhappiness of Cratander, whose Generosity very often outstripped his prudence, and his Natural Bounty the Narrow Confines of his Estate, to be at last reduced to great necessity, his Friends Commiserating his Condition advised how they might best assist his present distress, and prevent his own and the dishonour of his family. They resolved at last upon a friendly Contribution to raise some Moneys, and present him with a good Gelding, and proposed to him the going up to London, where he might put himself into some employ and particularly that of the King's Guards, which would afford him a Gentile and competent Support. Cratander was easily persuaded to embrace the Council of his friends, and not long after left the North his Native Country, and took his Journey to London. After he had spent some Months there in vain, either through his own ill Conduct, the Modesty of his Temper which could not Sue for favours with that Confidence which others succeed by, or that his Stars had designed him for some greater end, having almost Spent the little Stock he had, he saw he should be soon forced to Sell his Horse to buy Hay, and to Live longer there at so great Expense, woul● most certainly involve him in Debt and Misery. In the midst of these distracted thoughts he resolved to quit the Town, and make a Visit to an old Acquaintance who was Master of a plentiful Estate, and lived in the West of England, and accordingly did so. The next Morning he set out early, and Travelled almost fifty Miles, when Night coming upon him hastily he lost his way upon a great Common, and not knowing the Coast of the Country wandered up and down, till at last he spied a Candle at a Shepherds Cott about half a Mile, distance, which he steered up to. Hallowing to know who lived there, the Shepherd came out, of whom he Enquired the way to the Town he intended to Lodge at that Night, the Shepherd told him he was five Miles off, and the way difficult to find, if he was a stranger in the Country, Cratander told him he was, and had already lost his way and tired his Horse, and if he would be so kind to give him Accommodation for that night, he would gratify him to his Content. The Shepherd told him his was a House but of one Room, tho' plentifully Furnished with Inhabitants, that besides his Wife and himself he had Six Children, and but one Bed, and a Matress, and not so much as a hovel to put his Horse in. Cratander then enquired if there was no neighbouring Village could give h●m a Reception for one night, the Shepherd told him a mile off there was one, and if he pleased he would be his Guide, which Crata●der accepted of wh●n they were Arrived at it, they found but one Alehouse in the Town, and ●hat afforded no better Accommodation than the Shepherds Hutt; Cratander in this distress, asked if there was no Gentleman or Farmer in the Town would be so kind to Entertain him for a Night, the Shepherd told him it was a very poor Village, but there was a Manor House in it, at which a Gentlewoman now l●v'd who was Daughter to the Lord of the Manor, who died six Months ago, that she probably might be so kind to him as a stranger, when others for the same reason would distrust and refuse him so Charitable a favour. Cratander, with the directions of the Shepherd, went up to the Hall, the Shepherd knocked at the gate, and told the servant a Gentleman desired to speak with her Mistress, who immediately sent to Invite him in, Cratander excused himself, that it would be too great a boldness in h●m who was a stranger to the Lady, but he would wait as a beggar at her Gate to entreat a Boon from her Hands. The Maid carried back this answer, which surprised the Young Lady, especially when her Servant told her he was a Gentleman on Horseback well accoutred, and Robin who was her Shepherd was with him, the Lady came presently to the Gate to whom Cratander with all Modesty and respect addressed himself. I am, Madam, tho' a Stranger to you, forced to presume upon your Favour, that you will please to give leave to a Traveller who has lost his way to beg a Lodging for himself and Horse, the same Stable shall Entertain us both, nor should any thing but downright necessity oblige me to this Confident Petition. The Lady who was of a most affable and sweet Temper told him readily he was most hearty Welcome, and she only wished her present Hospitality could answer the Merits of her Guest; upon this invitation Cratander alighted, whom the Lady Conducted into the House and ordered his Horse to the Stable. He was Entertained in the principal Room with a plentiful Supper, which being ended, Cratander in the most Obliging Expressions paid his thanks to the Generous Lady, and taking up his Sword and Pistol, which lay upon the Table, now Madam if you please, I will walk into the Stable and repose myself by my Horse, for this day, Journey has made me both weary and Sleepy; The Lady at these words seemed extremely Surprised, and with a graceful sharpness told him, She was very sorry that the Cordial Welcome She better designed him, than was able to express upon so sudden an Occasion should be so far mistaken; That she hoped her House, how meanly soever Furnished, might afford him a better Lodging than her Stable, which she desired he would believe by accepting of it. Cratander was much out of Countenance at this reprimand, but recovering himself, Modestly replied, Dear Madam, you have already so infinitely obliged me that I had not Confidence enough to Trespass farther upon so Generous a Temper, especially when at the same time I consider myself an absolute stranger to you, which perhaps may create some fears and Jealousies in your Family, though your Noble Breast which knows no Gild in itself, can Harbour no suspicion of others. The Lady Blushed and told him, She saw too much Honour in his Person and demean to Judge so unworthily of him, and desired he would please to take his Chair and pass away half an Hour, till his Chamber was prepared for him. Cratander had observed that both before and at Supper the Maid that waited had her eye constantly fixed upon him, and with a look that spoke Horror and Consternation, as if she suspected him for a Person who had some Villainous design brooding in his heart, which his being so well Armed gave occasion for, Nor was he mistaken for she had several times pressed her Mistress that the stranger might lie in the Stable with his Horse as he himself requested, That it happened out very oddly that this stranger should come this very Night upon those pretensions when no such accident ever was before, a Night when all the Men-Servants, ●ad leave to be abroad at a Country Wake and none but Women and a poor Boy who belonged to the Stables left at home, her Mi●●ress heard her reasons and inclined to her O●●n on, ●ut considering what a reflection it would ●e upon her, if this stranger was really that worthy ●●ntleman he appeared to be, she resolved to run all risks rather than be guilty of so base and degenerous an Action. The Gentleman and Lady had passed away the time in variety of discourse, by wh●ch she was now fixed in a good Opinion of him, and had fu●ly banished those fears and apprehensions her Maid had whispered in her Ear, when the Servant came down and told her the Chamber was ready, if the Gentleman pleased to go to Bed, upon which h●r Mistress ordered her to take the Candle and wait upon him to his Lodging. The Lady attended him to his Chamber, and smilingly told him, Sir, pray Command whatever you want, and my house affords, I wish you good Rest and hope your Lodging will be as pleasant here as in the Stable— Cratander would have replied, but the Lady was gone. The Maid having left the Gentleman to his rest, went to her Mistress' Chamber, wh●re she began a fresh to discourse her form r Suspicions, but the Lady with a frown bid her be Silent and make hast to Bed; those Jealousies were idle fancies only, and should never discompose her rest whatever should be the issue of them, The Maid went to her Chamber, put out the Candle and laid herself upon the Bed, wishing for the Morning, which would dispel those Melancholy thoughts that now oppressed her mind. Her present fears banished all Sleep from her Eyes, and the Clock had now struck One, when she heard a Noise in the Court-yard, starting up she ran to the window, where she saw four Men at the door, who first Tried the Latch to see if it was open, and finding it fast Bolted and Locked, they endeavoured by main strength to force their Entrance, the Maid frighted out of her wits, ran to her Mistress' Chamber, where with her passionate Out cries, She awakened her, and told her, There were four Robbers in the yard breaking into the House, who would certainly Murder them all, and the Person She had Entertained was no doubt of their Gang▪ The Lady Alarmed at this unexpected News, half distracted flew to Cratander's Chamber, who was fast asleep and loudly Snoreing, but she soon awakened him with her loud complaints, and upon her Knees with all the passion, and moving Rhetoric her fears could inspire her with. Begged her Life and Honour of him, and the preservation of her Family, and She would immediately deliver him all her Money, Plate, Jewels, or whatever else he thought worth his acceptance; And in the same Breath repeated, but pray Sir Spare my Life, Spare my Honour, and I shall think myself indebted to you for whatever I part with besides. Cratander, whose thoughts at the lowest Ebb of fortune could never Entertain a base design, was no less Surprised than the Lady, and told her. Madam, I understand not your meaning, but if you please to be plain in your Expressions, I will defend both your Life and Honour with the utmost hazard of my own. Oh Sir, says the Lady, there are Theives breaking into my House, and pardon me if I mistake you for one of their Confederates. Il●e convince you presently, replied Cratander, and leaping out of Bed Slipped on his Clothes, and with his Sword and Pistols, by the Maid's direction, made to that part of the House they first attempted, Cratander had the fortune to have just got to the door, when they forced it open, and discharging one of his Pistols amongst them, he saw a Person drop, upon which they gave back; but he with his Sword in Hand, advanced two or three Steps, and by the opposition he met with, from one of them received a 'Slight Wound upon his Breast, which he revenged by another upon his Adversary's right Arm, which so disabled him that he gave back, and Cratander retreated to the door for fear their odds might oppress him, whose safety depended only on his single Courage. The Thiefs seemed to go off, and left one of their Companions bleeding upon the Ground, which Cratander (by his Groans) supposed to be dying, but not knowing what reserve of strength they might have, he made fast the door and went up to his Chamber, where he had left the Lady half dead with fear. Madam, says he, was it not for what your Lady ship has suffered in the affright I am hearty glad of this opportunity, which has I hope in some measure made me Serviceable to your Ladyship, and given a Testimony of that Honour and Justice which before as a stranger might be questioned in me. The Lady with tears in her Eyes, which stood ready to sal●y out either with Joy or sorrow, returned her thanks in the most grateful Sense her words could express, called him the Preserver of her Life, Honour and Fortune, who certainly was s●nt from Heaven, like a Guardian Angel, to defend her from the rapine and Violence of Theives and Murderers. After some care taken of his wound, which was not deep, they resolved not to go to Bed for fear of a Second Attaque, but in Cratander's Chamber spent the remainder of the Night, wishing for the Morning light, that they might safely discover the Person who was left behind dead upon the Spot; Assoon as the day appeared, Cratander, the Lady, and the rest of the Family opened the door, and in the yard found a great quantity of blood spilt upon the Ground, but the Body was conveyed away, whi●h they could trace no farther than the outward Gate, which was left open, and the loc● broke off; Cratander stayed two days till his wound was Closed, and the Lady recovered from that Consternation she was under, when ready on the third day to take his leave against all those arguments of kindness and respect the Lady could press upon him, a Servant came over to invite her to the Funeral of her Uncle, a Gentleman of Competent Estate who lived ten miles off. The Lady was very much Surprised to hear of her Uncles so sudden death, whom she had not known to be ill, and particularly enquired the cause, to whom the Servant could give no other Answer, but that going to Bed something indisposed, he was found dead in the Morning, the Lady was now Furnished with fresh occasion of Grief, which she made use of as a powerful reason to persuade Cratander to stay one day longer, and particularly desired him to bear her Company to that mournful Solemnity. Cratander told her he was extremely sorry for her loss of so near a Relation— Alas Sir, says she, it is not that alone, I have a second loss in a good Friend, to whose Care and Advice my dying Father recommended me, and I have been sufficiently sensible of his kindness in the management of those worldly affairs Women are generally bor● strangers to. The next day being that of his Funeral, Cratander promised to wait upon her, and in the Interim endeavoured to cheer up her drooping Spirits with a Suitable Conversation to her Solemn grief. Being arrived at the House the Lady was earnest to know what sudden Distemper was the cause of her Uncle's death, her Aunt told her she supposed an Apoplexy, but desiring to see the Corpse, she answered that being a Corpulent Fat Man the Coffin was nailed up early in the Morning for fear the Body, which began already to Corrupt, should be offensive to the Company. The Lady was very well Satisfied with the answer, and led by Cratander, attended the Corpse to the Grave. At their return home discoursing of the Funeral, Cratander asked who that Gentleman was in the Brown Periwig that assisted at the Interment, The Lady told him, he was a Gentleman of intimate acquaintance with her Uncle, who had formerly a fair Estate, but his too lavish Hand had now forced him to receive his Support from the kindness of hi● more familiar and Charitable Friends. Madam, says Cratander, did you not observe a black Ribbon tied about the wrist of his Right Hand; yes Sir, says she, I did so, he is a Gentleman who drinks high and is often in Broils, I wish Madam, says Crata●der, he was guilty of no other fault, tho' I cannot comm●nd a quarrelsome Temper in my b●st Friends; but proceeds he, would you please to Seal my pardon beforehand, I would make one step farther, which I shall do with all respect to the Memory or reputation of any Gentleman alive or dead. Sir, says she, I am altogether in the dark, and cannot Guess at your meaning, b●●●ssure yourself it is not in your power to disoblige me: Madam says Cratand r, wh●n 'twas my good fortune the other Night to engage the Thieve● who had broke into your House, after the fall of one of them I pressed forward with my Sword & received the hurt upon my Breast from another, which by that glimmering light of the Moon we then had bo●e the perfect Shape and likeness of this Gentleman who at the same time received a hurt on his right Hand, which this Person seems to have; Sir, (says the Lady, a little warmly) pray what do you infer, Madam, says he, I ●o suspect this Gentlem●n to have been in the Company and I should be very glad to be satisfied in it. Sir, says she you seem to hint something more than I am willing to believe you do. Madam, replied Cratander, I shall make no reserves in your Ladyship's Company, but I hearty wish this Hand did not Contribute more to your Uncle's death than I ever designed it should. Sir, says she, 'tis impossible I dare acquit you, and do at this Minute, and pray let us discourse no farther on so unpleasant a Subject. Madam, says he, I will Trespass but in one word more, my Suspicion commenced when I first saw that Gentleman at the House, before I ever knew he had any hurt on his Hand, for I observed I could never fix my Eye upon him but either through shame or Gild he avoided the Test of my looks, and either changed Countenance, or Showed some inward emotion of Spirit, which they who are better Read in the lines of Nature, and more Critically observe her Rules, would Construe in the same Sense that I do. Sir, says the Lady, I am no ways averse to your Satisfaction in that point, but I would at the same time have a due regard to my Name and Family. Madam, replied Cratander, I will proceed by such wary Methods as you yourself shall approve of; I will go to some Chirurgeon thereabouts, and complain the wound I received on my Breast Festers within, and advise with him for the Cure, and so from one to another; and if this Gentleman's wound appears to be so, and no strain, in all probability he applied himself to some Neighbouring Chirurgeon, and by him may receive some leading Circumstances to confirm or abate my Suspicion. Sir, says the Lady, upon the Terms I before mentioned, you may use your pleasure. Cratander accordingly the next day took his Horse, and at a public Inn near the Town wh●re the Uncle lived, desired to know if there was ever a Chirurgeon in that part of the Country, whom he might safely intrust. The Landlord directed him to one at the next Town, to whom Cratander Showed his wound, which was not perfectly Cured, and in discourse, was ask if he had much practice in the Country for green Wounds, the Chirurgeon told him every tittle, and that by accident the other day, a Gentleman who had been engaged in a quarrel received a Cut on his Right Hand, whom he now had under Cure, which had it not slanted a little had certainly Cut all his Muscles in two and for ever disabled him. The Person & Circumstance of time he more particularly urged, but at that distance, as if rather for discourse sake then Enquiry, and found them all Correspond with his first Suspicion. At Night he acquainted the Lady with the particulars, and prevailed with her, that he might get a Justice of Peace's Warrant to apprehend him, and oblige him upon his Examination to give a Satisfactory account where and when he received that wound. This was done and the Gentleman taken into Custody, who giving only Evasive Answers, was told if he would not be more positive and direct, they should be forced to charge him more Criminally, which an ingenious Confession m●ght prevent o● in some measure atone. The Gentleman was in great confusion what to say, but at last fully Confessed the whole matter, that he with two more whom he Named, were won by the Uncle upon the promise of a Considerable reward to assist him in this Enterprise, that they pitched upon that Night rather than any ot●er, because the Men-Servants would be abroad, and the House defenceless, that they had resolved to Murder the Young Lady and all the Family, for f●ar they should hereafter tell any Tales, that the Uncle was Shot at the door where he received his hurt by Cratander, and afterwards they came back and brought of his Body for fear of a discovery. Upon this the Gentleman was committed to Winchester Gaol, the other Two having some Notice of it fled. The Body of the Uncle was taken up and found to be Shot into the Heart with a Pistol Bullet which was there found, the Motive to so bloody and barbarous a design, (besides the instigation of the Devil and his own Covetousness) was generally supposed to be the Estate of the Young Lady which descended to him, who was her Father's Younger Brother, and she the only Child he left behind. The Young Lady considering how miraculously she had been preserved, and that next to Heaven she owed her Life to the Courage and Gallantry of Cratander, Franckly told him. Sir, I never yet Enquired whether you was Married or no, nor was it a question ever in my Thoughts before, if you are not and will accept of my Person with the Fortune that attends it, I hope to be Happy in your Embraces. Cratander, who little Expected that Fortune who had been always a niggard to him, should now pour down her Blessings with so Lavish a Hand, in a Rapture of Bliss, cried out, O happy Cratander, for ever happy, Dear Madam I am yours for ever, and let the declining Sun tell the other part of the Globe how happy his Fellow Traveller is made to day; which she readily consented to, and they were immediately Married▪ within a Month after the Aunt died for grief, and that Estate fell to Cratander in Right of his wife who was next heir at Law; Thus Lives he Master of a fair Estate which his courage and generosity most worthily deserves. Lysander ended his Story with the applause of the whole Company, and Melintus himself Smiled at the Close, and said th● Lady could do no less than Crown her Champion with the full Enjoyment of her Estate and Person. Florimell whose turn it was to lead, desired to be Excus d, that she had never a Story fit for such sober Company, but Melintus told her he would admit no Excuse, She was not so Airy, but She had some more serious Intervals, and he hoped this was one of them. Well Sir, says Florimell, I'll take my Course and you must take your Chance. NOVEL the Fourth, By FLORIMELL. CHarilus, (for under that Title I intent to disguise his proper English Name, out of respect to his Person and quality) was the Eldest Son of a Worthy Gentleman in Oxfordshire, and Heir to a fair Estate. His Father took particular care in his Education, to furnish him with all the Accomplishments Suitable to his parts and Character, for Nature had been prodigal to him in all the gifts of mind, which she inchas'd in a Body of Elegant Composure and perfect Symmetry. After he was arrived to more Natural years, his Father brought him up to London, and entered him into the Society of Grayes-Inn, where he not so much designed him for a profound Lawyer, as to be Capable to serve his Country in that Station and Quality he was born in. For the first two years he wa● observed by all, for a Sedulous Student, and knew no other pleasures or diversions of the Town, than those of the playhouse or Dancing-School, both which he rarely frequented, and then rather out of Complaisance to his Friends then Inclination in himself. It fortuned one day he was Invited abroad by some of his acquaintance to an Entertainment of the Spring-Gardens, where they were Engaged to Meet some Ladies, to whom the last Night they had lost a Collation at a Game at C●rds. Charilus who knew nothing of the design, was very ready to accept the Treat, and promis d his Company, The Gentlemen and Ladies met accordingly, the Entertainment was Noble and Costly, the Gentlemen Generous and Frank, and the Ladies fair and Obliging. Charilus whose heart was yet a stranger to Love, began of a sudden to feel its warmer powers, and himself discomposed that he resolved all happiness into that of Love, and Condemned the ignorance of his past Life, who had only Studied Men and Books to know the worst half of Mankind, and neglected the faire● Sex, the Beauty and Glory of the whole Creation. Having thus but dipped his Foot in the water he found it so refreshing he resolved to wade farther and plunge himself into that Abyss of pleasures his Thirsty Soul so eagerly Coveted. These Ladies brought him into the Acquaintance of others, which they enlarged to their own Friends, till in a short time the day was not long enough for him to pay his Visits (which he punctually observed) to each expecting Mistress. About this time his Father died and left him a plent●full Estate with a considerable Sum of ready Money, which he improved to the better Conduct and more easy Management of his Amorous Intrigues, Numerous were the Female Clients of this young Lawyer, and the rather because he gave, but received no Fees, except those in Tail, besides ●he great advantage he had of other Gentlemen in his comely personage and courteous behaviour, that he wounded more hearts in a week than he could Cure in a Month with his best performances. It Chanced one Evening being at a Ball in Leicester-Feilds he saw the Beauteous Bellinda, whose powerful Charms would have Conquered a more stubborn heart than Charilus wore, which by its frequent wounds was now grown soft and tender, and easily received the lightest Impression. Bellinda was now the only game Charilus pursued, which he did so Vigorously, that he lost no opportunity he could improve, to render himself respected by her; He danced with her, and afterwards obtained the favour to wait upon her home in his own Coach, which he looked upon as a promising earnest of a more ample reward in future. But after several Visits made with all passion and diligence as the Devil would have it, Bellinda proved of a different mould from other Ladies of her Sex, and Virtue had been Regent at her Nativity, above Beauty or pleasure. Charilus who had never met a repulse like this in the whole Career of his hot desires; Entreated, Treated, presented, which the Lady still accepted upon honourable terms. When he found these Bait● would not take, he offered Marriage as the last and most prevailing argument. Bellinda told him, She was under no Vow to a single Life, but could dispose of her Person and Fortune as best pleased herself. Charilus told her that was the only happiness he aimed at, and would complete immediately, but that he was under a Sacred Obligation not to Marry for some time which was now Expired to Six Months, that he did believe a contract in the Eye of Heaven, was as Obliging as the public Solemnisation of the Wedding, which was only required by Law for the more known and certain descent of Estates, that if she pleased to consent to a Contract now he would m●st assuredly Consummate the Marriage Six Months after. With these and other arguments and the most Solemn protestations his quick Invention, could Furnish his Expressions with, he won the credul ●us Bellinda, who without any tedious or formal Ceremony of contract, took his word Charilus immediately ordered private Lodgings for himself and Bellinda, where they lived with the highest content and Satisfaction, the six Months being expired, Bellinda remembered him of his promise; which he excused at that time, as a thing t●at might be done any day, for that he was engaged in some Affairs of great Importance. Thus from time to time he had always some Studied Answer to divert the discourse, which at last she found had no place in his intentions, and pressed no farther. However no Persons lived more amicably and Friendly together, th●t I much question (were there not other more Substantial reasons to be given) whether an indisso●veable Tie of two Persons, does not render their Converse more uneasy, and their whole Lives more querulous, then if it was only a Knot which each Person▪ might unloose at pleasure. Char●les who was always of a Generous and Noble Temper (nor was Bellinda parcemonious) having one day an Occasion for two hundred pounds, b●gan to consider his present Circumstances and inspect his accounts for the last seven years, when first his Acquaintance commenced widow h Bellinda; He sound his Estate mu●h impaired by the negligence of Tenants, his Rent fallen one third, and the Body of the Estate sunk under a weighty Mortgage, whi●h still preyed upon the Vitals, besides several Debts abroad, which would grow Clamorous and disreputable to him, and fif●een Hundred pounds, which he had received as Bellinda's Portion, was sometime since spent and forgotten, the Unwelcome prospect he now had of his Shattered Fortunes, raised different passions in his Labouring Breast, which after he had singly examined, he found himself only to blame, who either by his own Inadvertency or too much Confidence in others, had suffered h●s Estate to steal from him, without that prudent observance wh●ch might only preserve it. At last he resolved to disentangle himself from the trouble of Lands and Mortgages and part with all for a valuable consideration in Money over which he would keep a strike Eye, This he resolved and in part performed. He sold the whole Estate paid all his Debts, preserved his Reputation with the world, and had two Thousand pounds' Overplus, to lay the foundation of a New fortune, which he promised himself might be easily done. But being naturally averse to business, & unwilling to descend below his former Grandeur, he so long deferred it, that there was not Room left for that consideration, and Calling Bellinda one Morning into his Closet he showed her a draught of his present Misfortunes and withal told her there was but Three hundred left of the last two Thousand pounds, that tho' he never was Ceremoniously Married to her, yet he looked upon himself as obliged to provide for her; and not for that respect only, but as he ever had a most Sincere Love for her and that whatever distresses should befall him, her Share should be ●he least in them. She began to Lam●nt her gr●at Unhappiness, who must shortly be Exposed to he injuries of the World, and the inclemency of Friend's, when Char●●us prayed her patienc● to hea● him a few wo●●s My Dear Bellinda, says Charilus, that my Off ctio●s have bee● hearty and unfeigned you you● self shall Judge, and think not that those v●go●ous Flames, hich were first enkindled between u● shall ●ver know decay or Period. Di tress if rightly used, is but a poignant Saw to whet our Cloyed Appetites; Loves fire may be as intense in the heat, 't●o the Flames are not so active, but affliction Rouses up the Sleeping Embers and seems to give N●w Life and heat. But this I only speak as Conselatory, now to the point I intent; There is but one way to retrieve our drooping fortune's, and that with your approbation, I am resolved to prosecute, which is this, I have an Acquaintance in the City, a Person of Eminent Reputation, and my particular Friend, whose Assistance I am assured of in this affair; You shall take two hundred and fifty pounds of this Money, a Footman and Two Maids to wait upon you, and assume a Name both honourable and well known in the West of England, and pass for a Gentlewoman of the same Name, of a very considerable Fortune and at her own disposal. My Friend I spoke of, shall take you fair Lodgings in a Merchant's House, give you the Character I mentioned, and assist you in the whole Conduct of this design. Very well, says Bellinda, now you have reduced me to nothing, you intent to set me up for a Fortune, like a Gilt of the Town— Soft! says Charilus, you are too quick upon Me and overshoot the mark this being done I'll go down into the Country, and reconcile myself to my Uncle, (who has a fair Estate, which I am next heir at Law to, if he don't Cut of the Entail) and make use of my Courtship to you, and the hopes I have of your Favour to Cement the difference between us, and Engage his Interest for the obtaining your Love, of which I know how to make good Advantage. Well then, and what must be the Issue of this? Why nothing Child but an Established Felicity to us both in Matrimony, and the Securing my Uncle's Estate, when ever Heaven shall call him into a better World. I know not how (says Bellinda) to trust any affair where there is Matrimony in it, it is a word so abused upon all Occasions, and I myself have had some little Experirience of it— but I forbear, that's a tender part. But do what you please you shall always find me of the same obsequious humour. Charilus having fixed this point, and seen Bellinda placed at a Merchant's House, (where she had the Reputation of a Fortune of Eight Thousand pounds a●d five Hundred li. per An.) and made some Visits to ●er, he went down into the Country where his Uncle received him as a Gentleman and a stranger, of whom he had not heard a word this seven years, bu● as Common fame reported him to his disadvantage. After he had Spent two days there, his Uncle came to a more easy familiarity, and enquir'd of his affairs blameing his Imprudent management of his Estate and Riotous Expenses, which Charilus in part Confessed, and laid his finger where he thought his Uncle's Eye had not yet discovered the blemish▪ this he thought a proper Season to discourse him, of his Courtship to Bellinda (whose Name we w●ll preserve tho' her Character's altered) he assured him of her fortune and his Interest with her, and that if he would please to afford him, the least Umbrage of his favour he did not question Success, and that he should be not only able to repair the Breaches in his Estate, but considerably advance it by this plentiful Addition. His Uncle told him he had in so high a Measure forfeited his Esteem with him, that he might reasonably imagine he suffered as much in the Opinion of others; That this would be a work of great difficulty, and beside fortunes now a days were grown so common and Cunning, that very often the most Judicious Eye, could not distinguish the real from the Counterfeit. After other reasonings on both sides the Uncle seemed to be satisfied with. Charilus his discourse of the fortune, and told him that if he would stay with him till Term which was not long, he would consider farther of it, and then he had business at London. During his stay in the Country, he wrote two Letters to Bellinda, which he Showed his Uncle and the Answers he received, by which he abated the difficulty of the Courtship so that now the great Q●●a●e was the certainty of the Estate an● Money. At the beginning of Easter Term they both came up to Lond●n, and Charilus would have made a Visi● the next Afternoon to his Mistress, but his Uncle told him the Tailor had been with him in the Morning, and promised him to bring his Clothes by twelve the next day, and that he had a mind to go along with him, if he would defer it to the next Afternoon, which Charilus consented to, and they accordingly went together. At the door he met with one of Bellinda'● Maids, and asked if her Lady was within, who Answered, yes, pray Sweet heart, says he Present my very humble Service to her, and let her Ladyship know my Name is Charisus, who beg the Honour to kiss her Hand. The Maid went up with the Message, and presently down came her Woman with this Answer. Sir, my Lady presents her Service to you, She's something indisposed at this time and begs your pardon. Upon which Charilus and his Uncle returned to their Lodging. Where the Uncle Umphed, and Umphed! And told Charilus, this was a Sort of a cold indifferent Compliment, which he excused, that Ladies of that quality and fortune did often put on State to give a greater value and Esteem to their Character. However the Uncle was much dissatisfied to see his Nephew thus Slighted and urged, that they should make a Second Visit by Nine next Morning, which he Excused as not the Mode of the Town to Visit Ladies, but in the Afternoon. Next day he was Impatient till the Clock had struck Three, that he might have a Sight of this Lady, after thre● they made a Second attempt to a V●●●, an● sent up the same Message as before, but the Uncle for fear of some excuse pulled Charilus by the Sleeve and followed the Servant up stairs, where they met her returning to Invite them up. At th●ir entrance into the Dining Room, they saw the Lady at the Table talking with a Gentleman, and a great heap of writings and parchments before them, upon which Charilus step● back, but the Lady very familiarly called him in, and desired his Friend would please to walk in too, which Invitation the Uncle had already prevented out of his great Curiosity to see the Lady; Charilus saluted her with all imaginable respect and asked pardon for interrupting of her in the midst of Business. She answered, it was no great Business, this Gentleman was her Lawyer, and they had been looking over some lose papers, at which she turned the Carpet gently over them, and told the Gentleman if he pleased to come at Ten in the Morning they would Inspect the rest, upon which he took his jeave. Then she particularly apologized for yesterday rudeness as she pleased to call it, that indeed she had been busy all day with her Lawyer, was undressed, and understanding there was a stranger with you Sir, to Charilus, I was forced to use the frequent exc●se of our Sex, which I beg this Gentleman's pardon for— to the Uncle, which Compliment after he had taken care to Answer— She invited them to sit down, and put on a most facetious and obliging Countenance. Amongst other discourse Charilus asked if the Painter had finished her Ladyship's Picture yet, yes Sir, says she, it hangs in the withdrawing Room— and rising up, pray Sir, says she, give me your Opinion, whether it is like or No, with that Charilus waited upon her into the Room, and the Uncle (thinking it but common manners to let the Lovers be private at their first Interview after so long a Vacation) stayed behind; Charilus gently putting the door too, which the Uncle observing b●gan to peep under the Carpet, wh re he saw several Bonds, Letters, and one Mortgage for four Thousand pounds. After half an Hours stay the Lovers returned, and the Lady afresh excused the incivility of her absence, to a Gentleman of his quality, whom she now understood to be a near Relation to this Worthy Gentleman her Friend; Mutual Compliments having passed between the Uncle and Lady they sat down, and fell upon other discourses. After half an Hours stay longer Charilus and his Uncle took leave of the Lady, and in the next street parted; his Uncle telling him he would make a particular Enquiry for his own Satisfaction, and within two days he would resolve him what he would do. Two days after he came early into his Chamber with a Letter in his Hand and told him he had weighed all Circumstances of Truth and improbability, had made a most particular Scrutiny into the Lady's fortune, her Relations, and whatever was to be considered upon that point, and did agree with him, that she was a most Beautiful Virtuous Lady and Mistress of the same Estate in Money and Land (if not more) as he first reported to him. That he was withal very sensible that she had more than ordinary Reflect for him by those familiar kindnesses she Expressed, that delay was the greatest Enemy he could have in this affair, and whatever was resolved must be with Expedition. I do withal think it proper, says he, you should make her some Handsome present as either a Locket of Diamonds, a fair Necklace of Pearl, or what you think is most Modish and acceptable, Sir, says Charilus, I humbly thank you, you certainly advise the best Method that can be; yes, says the Uncle, interrupting of him, and you ought likewise to appear in a fine Gilt Chariot drawn by two Flanders, these are very taking with Young Ladies, they were so in my time, yes Sir, says Charilus, but my present Stock of Money will not reach so far, and I am unwilling to run in debt to Tradesmen it may prove a disadvantage to me, if known, you are in the right says his Uncle, and I did fear as much, and for that reason I have here writ a Letter to Badley my Steward, to furnish you with Eight Hundred, or a Thousand pounds▪ which you would rather have, and do you take it, and go down into the Country with all speed, if he has not so much in his Hands let him raise it of the Tenants, but I expect, Nephew, you shall return it to me Six Months after Marriage: which Charilus submissively promised to do, and to take Post immediately into the Country. Charilus overjoyed at this great Blessing of fortune beyond his utmost Expectation, Stole a Visit first to Bellinda, and told her all his Uncle had said, shown the Letter, and after they had Congratulated each other in this happy Success, took leave for the Country promising all speed in his return. In the Afternoon the Uncle made a Visit to the Lady, and talking Jocosely of Marriage, made his address to her, & told her, if she could comply with a little disproportion of Age, no Person had more Vigorous Flames, or a more passionate affection to her Service then himself, that as for his Nephew, to whom he believed she had some respect, he was a wild Extravagant Young Man, that he who had already ruined his own fortune, would be unsafely trusted with another's, and an Empire in the Cup of a Voluptuary would be assoon quaffed of, as that Narrow Spot left by paternal care, which his Riotous humour had already Spent, and yet not quenched his Thirst. The Lady was very much Surprised at his discourse, and told him she rather expected he would have been an Advocate in his Nephew's behalf, then have Furnished her with such powerful Arguments o● disesteem. The Uncle made his Attaqus so close and quick, that she began seriously to consider of her own Circumstances, and at last told him, it was a matter of so great Moment he could not reasonably expect a present Answer. After some other discourses to the same purpose the Uncle took his leave, prom sing to wait u●on her the next day. Upon the Second visit he presented her with a Necklace of Pearl, and a Gold Watch studded with diamonds, which he begged of her to accept, and in the close of all told her he had a clear Estate of a Thousand pounds per Annum besides Money abroad, that he would settle Six Hundred pounds a year in Jointure, and what more she pleased of her own fortune. The Lady thanked him for his great Respects to her, and those Generous offers he was pleased to make, that was she determined, as she was yet no ways inclined to Marry; She should Entertain as worthy and deserving thoughts of himself as of any other Gentleman in England. The Esquire, for to that Title his Character is now grown up, looking upon this last Answer to be as absolute a Surrender as would Consist with her Modesty, told her that from the first Minute he had the happiness to see her, he was struck with Love and admiration, that he designedly sent his Nephew into the Country upon an April Errand, that he might have the freer access to her Person, and then earnestly pressed the Wedding might be over before his return. At last She told him, within two days He should have the Result of her more serious Consideration. B●l●inda was now more posed then ever which way to Steer, the Uncle's great kindness to Char●lus was but Counterfeit, but to her real, that it was much better to save one, then that they both should perish, nay, this might preserve both for upon this Marriage she hoped to be in a Condition to serve him; Nor was she so much too blame who had been ruined by one Branch of the Family, if she prudently Endeavoured her safety by another, and the Uncle repair those Breaches the Nephew had made, Thus she pondered the Morning before she expected his return, and at last resolved to Marry him, but first secure the Jointure. In the Afternoon came the Esquire, and after a Cunning Harangue of reason all in his own Commendation why she should Marry him, she declared her consent, That as to matter of Jointure, She was well satisfied with the six Hundred pounds a year at present, and what part of her own fortune he would put into her Hands, should be as he pleased at his own time. Thus the Bargain was made, and her Lawyer who was prepared before Hand, sent for and ordered to make the Jointure upon such particulars and to be ready upon Thursday Morning by Eight, when the Jointure was Sealed and the Espousals Consummated. Charilus came late to Town the same Night to his Uncle's Lodgings, with a return of Eight Hundred pounds, and waiting his coming in till it grew late, went to Bed, in the Morning early he asked what time his Uncle came in, and if he was yet stirring. The Servant told him he did not come in all Night, nor had he seen or heard from him since he last went out the Morning befor●. Charilus was very much troubled at this, fearing some Misfortune had befallen him (which w●s true enough, tho' not in his Sense) but not knowing where readily to find him, he went first to give Bellinda a Visit, and acquaint her w●th the Joyful News of the Eight Hundred pounds, when offering to go into the Bedchamber her Maid would have stopped him, which be took little Notice of, but pressed in, and saw some Body in Bed with the Lady, Upon which in the greatest rage and fury he drew his Sword, and Swore he would be the death of that Villain who had thus abused him. The Uncle crept under the sheet for fear expecting the Sword either in his heart or Guts at each Oath he Swore, Bellinda was strangely Surprised, and Shrieked out for help, whilst Charilus discharged whole Valleys of Oaths and Curses on those two miserable Wretches, and violently pulling down the , discovered his own Dear Uncle in B d with his Mistress. Charilus at this was no less astonished, then th●y affrighted, when Bellinda interposed, and desired his patience but for two words; Sir, says she, I beseech you Compose yourself, and be not angry with this Gentleman or myself, for we are Man and Wife. This was so amazing a Story he did not know what to answer to it, but after a little pause, considering it as a truth, there might be a good improvement made of it, he fell into a violent passion with his Uncle, called him all the infamous Names he could invent, and with the point of his Sword threatened immediate Vengeance upon that false Heart, which had so basely and Treacherously supplanted him, After his passion was grown more cool, the Uncle offered terms of reconciliation, and acknowledged the heinousness of his crime in betraying that trust he had reposed in him and Robbing him of a Mistress of so considerable a Fortune, for all which he was ready to make present Satisfaction. The terms agreed upon were these, that Charilus should have the Eight Hundred pounds now in his Hands, and his Uncle make over to him four Hundred pounds a year out of his Estate, and put him into immediate possession of it, in consideration of the Injury he had done him in the loss of his Mistress, all which the Uncle performed that day according to the Tenor of the Articles. Within a Month after he discovered some part of his own Error, as to the mistake of the Fortune, but nothing farther, however they went down into Oxfordshire together, where in less than a Twelvemonth he died, and Bellinda's Jointure being an Entailed Estate came into Charilus his Hands, who ●n Memory of former kindnesses was highly Generous and Noble to her. Here Sir, says Florimell, should I conclude with my Story, but that I have something to say by way of Consolation to you Melintus, and therefore beg leave to carry on Bellinda's Character one step farther. This Lady Sir, after the death of her Husband came up to London, and ' tho she had for some years of her acquaintance with Charilus resided here, yet was she seldom abroad, and not at all known to the Gallants of the Town, so that upon her return she passed for a New Face, and was generally thought to be a Maid. Amongst other Sparks who made search up and down for fresh Beauties, that Matchless piece of Chivalry, Sir— was one, you all know, who was the Person that first discovered that Notable way of affronting Ladies of Quality by breaking their Windows with Crown pieces; It was his fortune to Meet with this Lady and after some necessary Treats to introduce a more familiar acquaintance, he fell Smart upon her, but all in vain, her Honour was Lodged in an impregnable Fortress; when that would not do, he betook himself to his last Remedy, Marriage; Offered a fair Jointure and whatever else should be thought convenient, this at last was approved of, but the Knight was mistaken in his Measures she would yield up no part of the premises till the Jointure was Sealed, and the Marriage completed; which, rather than lose his longing he consented to. A short time after the Wedding, he asked her what reason she imagined more particularly Influenced him to Love her, when she could not Guess, he told her, it was for her strict Virtue and Chastity, for he had made a Resolution never to Marry any whom he could prevail upon without it, and that is the reason that tho' I have Courted Hundreds I was never Married till now; Why look you Sir says she, I had that Trick put upon me once too, but I was resolved I would never be Catched Twice with the same Bait. Now Sir, as to the application, why should you be in the Dumps and Melancholy; hid yourself from your Friends, and call those Stars, you ought to Bless by all the Naughty Names you can think of, when who knows but that beloved she might have proved another Bellinda, and take her at the best— but with your permission I have done Sir. The Company all Laughed hearty, and Melintus could not forbear a public Smile, I knew says he, we should have one Roguish Story or another, I expected it Florimell, but above all commend me to your close, where you come off with a Relish indeed— Parmenio, says Melintus, I think it now falls into your division, pray will you oblige us with a Story that may Temper the heat and passion of Florimels', and Compose us to our wont Gravity. NOVEL the Fifth, By PARMENIO. A Gentleman who had been formerly a Merchant in the City of London, and acquired a considerable Estate, withdrew into the Country, having Spent his younger years in the Noise and hurry of Business, resolved now to enjoy the fruits of his Labours in quiet, and Gratify himself with Solitude and Retirement; having a fair House in Hartfords●ire he inclined to fix there, where he was eminently hospitable to the Gentry, and Charitable to the poor. But that he might not be out of all concern of business in the world like an idle pe●son, he still kept some Ventures a broad, which he called the poors Stock, in which and all other his endeavours, providence blest his Industry with that constant success, that he used familiarly to say he grew Rich in spite of his Teeth, for if he shut Money out at the door, it would come in at the Window. This Gentleman at his death left only one Child a Daughter called Joanna, to whom he gave a very great Fortune, and committed the care of her Person and management of her Estate to two Gentlemen her Guardians. She was now about Eight years old when she desired she might (as she usually did once a year) go see her Uncle, a Gentleman of fair Reputation and good Estate in Ess●x, which they granted, and s●nt her over attended with two Servants. After she had been there a Month, her Uncle wh● was a passionate Man, catching her in some fault threatened to whip her; She farther provoking him with some Scurvy reply, he d●d so, at which time as she cried out, was heard to say by some of the Neighbours, O pray Uncle don't kill Me, which neither he or any of the Family took much Notice of at that time. The next Morning early she stole out of the House, and after she had wandered some Hours not knowing whether to go, met with a Company of Gipsies who took her up, made much of her, changing her and staining her Complexion, brought her with them in few days to Lo●don, and from thence went their Rounds into Hampsh re, Wiltshire, and about the Country. The Uncle missing his Niece next day, made all possible Enquiry after her, sent to all the Neighbouring Villages, searched all the public Roads, but could not receive any account of her. He next sent into Hartfordshire to her Guardians to know if she was returned home, but meeting with no satisfaction, concluded that some young Gentleman who knew she would be a great fortune had Stole her, and carried her far away to some distant County where she lay concealed. This the Guardians believed too, till some of the Neighbours at their gossiping, were prattling what they heard others say, and began to wish seriously that it was not too true, especially when they considered that if the Child died in her Minority, the whole Estate would descend to the Uncle. This was buzzed about till at last it reached the Guardians Ears, who making more particular enquiry into the truth of it, were informed by some of the Neighbours that the Night before the Child was missing, they heard her cry out most lamentably, pray Uncle don't kill Me, this they considered as an odd Circumstance to happen just the Night before, an● asked the Persons who thus informed, if they could safely take their Oaths of it, and would do so before a Magistrate, who said, yes, it was all true and nothing but the truth. After some delibe atio● they acquainted the Uncle what the N● ghb●●rs said, and how nearly it did touch his ●●putation now, and might his Life hereafter, if his Niece was not found. He told them he was altogether innocent of any Injury done to her, nor did he remember that ever she sa●d so, tho' he owned he whipped her severely▪ which was for telling a notorious Lie, and using some other indecent expressions, which he thought she deserved to be Corrected for. Upon this all the ponds and Rivers were searched, and a considerable reward promised to any Person, who could give an account of her alive or dead. No News being heard of her, the Neighbours b●gan to Grumble and said, that the Guardians and Uncle had Complotted to Murder the Child and Share her Estate: This being now grown a public discourse in the Country to the great disadvantage of their Reputation, who before were Esteemed a● Gentlemen of Honour and integrity; They resolved to probe the bottom of this cause, and prosecute the Uncle as far as the Law directed them. Accordingly they went over into Essex, and s●n● for him to a Gentleman's House who was his Neighbour, and a Justice of the peace. Being altogether, the Guardians complained to the Justice of this report, and desired him that he would take Cognizance of it as far as the Law required, that if possible their Reputations, and the Gentlemen might be preserve● free from such an undeserved calumny. The Justice sent for the witnesses, who Swore positively that on such a Night, which was the immediate Night before she was missing, they heard her cry out with a lamentable voice, pray Uncle don't kill Me. Upon which the Justice bound the Uncle in a Recognizance of two Thousand pounds to appear at the next Assize, and the Guardians in a bond of five Hundred to prosecute the Uncle. In this Interval the Uncle having used all the probable means for a discovery that humane Wit could imagine, but not being able to make any, began to think what was to be done, the time of the Assize drew on, and then he should certainly be Indicted for the Murder of Joanna, nor had he any way to clear his Innocence against such Circumstantial Evidence, but by a downright Negation, which though some of his Friends might Credit, would yet take no place in a Court of Judicature. Having thus considered the difficulty of his Case, he at last resolved thus. In his search after Joanna, he had found a poor Man's Daughter in another County, who both in Age, Features▪ and Complexion, so much resembled her that at first sight he thought she had been the real same, now says he to himself, if I can get this Girl of her Parents, and dress her up in the same habit, Joanna wore, the very Guardians shall not distinguish her from their own Pupil, she will appear so like the very same, nor have I any other course but this to preserve myself, he accordingly did so, and for a Sum of Money bought the Girl of her poor Relations, diligently instructed her in the part she was to act, who being of a ripe Wit and very apprehensive had her Lesson to a hair. A day or two before the Assize, he gave out he had by great fortune found his Niece, brings her home to his House with her real Father and Mother, who gave a Satisfactory account to all persons how accidently they found her in a wood almost Starved, and She not remembering from whence She had wandered they Entertained her amongst their own Children. The Girl owned how she Stole away for fear her Uncle should whip her again as he threatened, all which Romance hung so well together, that the Guardians believed her the same, and no body questioned the truth. At the Assize he was called to appear which accordingly he did, the Judge asked him for his Niece Joanna if she was found yet, Yes, my Lord, says the Gentleman, she is in Court, Ve●y well, says my Lord, produce her, and bid the Guardians appear, accordingly they did, and the Counterfeit Joanna, Are you satisfied, to the Guardians says the Judge, that this is your Pupil, the Daughter of Mr.— with whom you were left in trust? Yes, my Lord, said the Guardians, After a farther account how she was found the Judge ordered their Recognizance should be withdrawn, and the Uncle discharged. It happened that an old Woman who was in Court about other business, hearing what a Bustle had been made about her young Mistress, and that she was found again, as they came out of Court crowded to see her, and looking full upon her, believed it to be the same, but the Girl not taking Notice of her, She cried out, O Mistress you don't know Me, upon which She answered presently, no, what says She, don't you know old Nurse? I am sure you are not the same then, upon this the Girl was startled, the Guardians made a stop and asked her how she came to forget Nurse so soon, she not giving a present answer, they began to suspect something and brought her again into Court and Nurse with her. The old Woman said, She did believe it had been the same at first, but upon review she much questioned it, that she herself had Nursed her till she was almost four years old, and if it was her Mistress she had a Scar upon her left Arm above the Elbow. The Judge ordered they should look upon her Arm, which they did, and reported there was no Scar above but one below the Elbow, upon this it was generally believed she was the lame, and all things set right again. However the Judge seemed more dissatisfied then before, ordered the Uncle to withdraw, and examined the Girl, Afterwards the Man apart, who said he had found her in a Wood, and then the woman, and here he found they all disagreed in one point or other, at length by crossing the account of the Man and Wife, and then considering that both the Guardians and Nurse agreed the true Joanna, must needs have remembered her Nurse, since it was not a Twelvemonth ago since she saw and particularly knew her, they agreed it was yet a Cheat, which the Woman for fear of punishment, first Confessed, and then her husband owned it, and lastly the Girl; They proved the Receipt of so much Money at such a time, proved by several neighbours, who had known this Girl for five or six years together, that she always was looked upon and reputed as their own Child and always lived with them. Upon this discovery an Indictment was preferred against the Uncle, for the Murder of his Niece Joanna, but he having no proof to clear himself by, and this appearing with so foul a Face against him, he was Condemned to be hanged, and was within a Week after Executed. It fortuned about nine years after at the Summer Assize at Nottingham, two young Gentlemen who were lately called to the Bar, whereof the Judge's Son was one, walking out early one Morning in the fields they saw a whole Covey of Gipsies under a Hedge, when they came near, two of them stepped out, and in their Cant told them a great deal of good fortune by looking into their Hands, and viewing the lines of the Face as they pretend, upon which one Gentleman threw them a Shilling, the other called them idle Whores, and said they deserved to be whipped for public Cheats, upon which one of them a tall black Girl told him, he ought not to despise a Gipsy for he should Marry one before he was Three Months older, at this the Gentlemen fell a laughing and entertained them with other like discourse; when they came home one of them missed his gold Watch, and another had lost all his Money. They began to grow angry to be thus Cheated, and getting a Constable very luckily, met with these two going off another way; They charged them with the Watch and Money, which they as peremptorily denied, upon which the Constable brought them along into open Court which was then sitting, upon Examination they denied the Fact, nor could they upon search find either about them. However, the Judge ordered them to be sound lashed for Vagrants, and sent out of Town, as the Constable was taking them away, the Gentleman who was the Judge's Son, called out Jocosely to the Constable, pray favour the black-woman, for she tells me, I shall Marry a Gipsy within these three Months; which his Father overhearing called them back again, and asked them▪ How long they had pretended to telling of Fortunes, I had thought, says the Judge, all your Trade had been Picking of Pockets; No, and please you my Lord says the black-Woman, my profession is only telling of Fortunes, I never understood nor practised such unlawful Arts, at which the Court laughed 〈◊〉 My Lord then asked (seeing her a good favoured young Woman, and so quick in her Answers) what Countrywoman she was, to which she said, she thought Hartfordshire. Then he asked, if she was born a Gipsy; She said No, but She was as good, for She had been Nine years' Apprentice to a Gipsy. At which he asked her, if she had e'er a Christian Name, yes, my Lord, says she, I think so, for my Name is Joanna, the Judge hearing the Name Joanna recollected himself, and remembered the Story of the Essex Gentleman, who was by him Condemned for Murdering his Niece of that Name. He then asked her, if she had ever been in Essex, or had any Relations there; She said, not since she was very Young, which was at the time she met with the Gipsys first, and then She had an Uncle there, who used her very hardly, and so she ran away from him, and was never there since, nor never Enquired after him. Upon this he concluded her to be the same Person, and called to the Constable and told him, he should not let them be whipped, but carry them home to his own House and Entertain them there, till the Court was up, and then he should receive farther Orders. The whole Court at this began to Wonder, and believe one or both of them to be Gentlewomen of good Families, nor did they spare telling the young Gentleman that for aught they knew it might be his Fortune indeed to Marry a Gipsy, if this Young Woman should prove to be a Person of Quality and Estate, which fell out even so, for the Assizes being over, the Judge who had a Seat in Hartfordshire, and had known her Father formerly, brought her up in his Coach, and presented her to the Guardians who owned her to be the same Person, which the Nurse and all her Surviving Relations Confirmed. At the same time his Lordship, who knew her to be a very great Fortune, proposed a Match between his Son and her which she Frankly consented to, and was presently after Solemnised. Thus ended Parmenio when the whole Company Bowed their respects, and were all extremely pleased with the fortune of the Gipsy, But Sir, says Melintus, I could have wished you had carried a lighter Hand over the hard fate of the Uncle, whom I pity with all my Heart. Sir, says Parmenio, I could have wished it had not been true, but as it is so under unquestionable Evidence, I durst not give my Hand the Liberty of one Sweetening Stroke. Now, Madam, says Melintus to Evadne, we must beg the next favour from your fair Hands, No Sir, said she, your power with me always Commands. NOVEL the Sixth By EVADNE. ORithia the Beauty of her Sex and Glory of her Age, was the Daughter of an English Earl, of an Ancient Family, whose Noble Acts in Chivalry stands first upon Record in our most early Histories, Her great Wit and Excellent Sweetness of Temper obliged all who had the Honour of her Acquaintance, which every Gentleman both Courted, and admired. And if amongst those Thousands who were ready to Sacrifice their bleeding hearts to the fair Orithia, any was thought to have a more particular interest in her Favour, it was the Lovely Philanthus, who was only able to make a reprisal of Hearts amongst the Ladies, for those Orithia Captivated from the Men. Philanthus his Family was somewhat inferior, but much more Opulent, he being the Eldest Branch of it, who for the great Service of his Father, (who lost his Life in the Wars against the French) had the Honour of Knighthood Conferred upon him, whilst yet a Schoolboy, by his Gracious Prince. The Assiduous Address of Philanthus, his kind Reception, and more intimate familiarity obliged us all to believe he would be that happy Conqueror, who should carry off this Noble prize from the Rest of the despairing world. But amongst those Stars which influence the great affairs of Love, some are kind and propitious, whilst others infect their good intents by their poisonous Neighbourhood, some such unhappy Conjunction there was which suddenly blasted Philanthus his blooming hopes, robbed him of all his Glorious Expectations and left him the Pity or the Scorn of his Rivals. The Count de Montallo who was Ambassador from the Duke of Savoy, at the English Court, being shortly to return, and having often admired the Beautiful Orithia, as the most lovely Creature his Eyes yet beheld, made his private Addresses to her, and without the knowledge or Consent of her Relations was Married to her. My Lord, her Father, and all her Friends were extremely concerned at it, there not being any but who gave Philanthus the Encouragement to hope he should be that happy Person, nor had he any reason to question Orithia's Favour, till the Count made his applications, and then the Ambition of being so great a Countess soon prevailed over the more easy powers of Love. Within four days after, Orithia went along with the Count her Husband for Savoy, without seeing or taking leave of any of her Friends or Relations. This sudden Marriage with the Count had at first extremely incensed my Lord her Father, but considering she had Honourably disposed herself, without the Charge of a weighty portion, which his Circumstances could not so conveniently spare, he now called that prudence and discretion, which before he thought a rash and inconsiderable Action. After her Arrival at Savoy, for three years she lived as happy & as great as heart could wish, the Count her Husband loved her above all the World, and his Estate, which was very considerable, was absolutely at her Command. No Empress, tho' she might have more large Dominions, was better beloved, or more willingly obeyed than she was. It happened that the Duke of Savoy making Wars upon some of the Neighbouring Princes appointed the Count de Montallo General of his Army, which was an Honour he could not refuse, though with some regret he parted from the Arms of his beloved Orithia. That he might leave the affairs of his Family under the better Government, he appointed three of his Friends as Commissioners to take an account of his Rents, assist the Countess upon all occasion with their Advice, and manage all his business to his greatest advantage and reputation. To these he added one more, who was the honest Sabrino as he used to call him, a Gentleman of some Relation to the Count, but his intimate Friend and Confident. The Duke being now with his Army, and not expected back till a peace was concluded, which was yet but uncertainly discoursed; Sabrino, who had the largest Commission of any of the rest, and much more respected, considered that this was the only opportunity his heart could wish for, to complete those desires he had so long languished under. Accordingly one day coming up to the Countess, as if upon some Urgent business, he found her alone in her Closet, where without any regard to the Honour of the Count, the Virtue of the Lady, which he had no reason to suspect, or to the Modesty and good manners in himself, of which he ought to have had some share, he discovered his unlawful passion, which she received with that abhorrence and detestation that he was well assured he was now undone for ever, if he did not preserve himself by being the first Accuser, tho' he had nothing to Charge the spotless Orithia with, but what was false as Hell or Devils could invent. However envenomed malice will want neither Instruments or Methods to perfect its Revenge; tho' what wrong had Sabrino received? He first gives the affront, and then demands Satisfaction, and first Tempts the Lady with his lascivious address●, then calls himself injured, so great a Crime is it to be good and Virtuous in the prospect of those who are wicked and debauched. Sabrino, that he might lose no opportunity, sent presently to the three Commissioners to meet him at his own Chamber, where he told them, He had a secret of that importance to communicate to them and of that strange Surprise, that he wanted words to express the present Horror of his thoughts; I have for some time suspected, and I wish I could say I did yet but suspect, Oh shall I speak it! The Fidelity and Chastity of the Countess— upon which one of them told him, Sir, I will as soon believe, the Glorious Cherubins may be tainted in their pure Angelic Natures, as that any Temptation of dishonesty hath or ever shall assoil the Virtue of that immaculate Lady. Oh Sir, says Sabrino, be not too forward I once thought so too, but I am afraid I shall be able to convince you sooner than you or I could wish for. In the Interim pray make your own Observations, and let this pass no farther. Sabrino had a Nephew a proper young Gentleman, who had been Page to the Count in England, and since his return, was preferred to be Gentleman Usher to the Countess; This Gentleman he sent for privately to his Chamber, and told him he understood what a particular kindness the Countess had for him, and that now was the time for him to make his fortunes in the absence of his Lord The young Gentleman told him he did not understand his meaning; O Nephew (said he) are you so short sighted, why the Countess is in love with you above all the World, and wants nothing but an opportunity, to complete yours and her own happiness in Bed, which I have promised her this Night: Wherefore you must in the Evening pretend to go Sick to Bed, and then undress to you● Gown, and Steal into the Countess' Chamber, and lie under the Bed till she gives you Notice to come forth, but be sure no Body sees you enter her Chamber, if they do, make some excuse and go out again and so wait till you have an opportunity: pray Uncle, (says he young Gentleman) did the Countess herself bid you tell me thus? I, I, She herself bid me, and said that very suddenly she would make you Gentleman of the Horse The innocent Gentleman discovered not the Snares his Uncle had laid for him, but in the Evening accordingly did so: after Sabrino had been at his Chamber and found him not there, nor about the House, he concluded he was then safe●y Lodged under the Bed, and a little before the Countess went to her Chamber, sent for the Commissioners, and told them, he was informed that the Countess' Gallant was to be with her that Night, but who he was that he could not tell; Sabrino and the rest concluded to pretend some extraordinary business, to be dispatched that Night and to desire to speak with her as soon as her Women had left her, and then if there was any Gallant, they should certainly discover him, if not give the Countess no reason to suspect their design, Accordingly they did so, and coming softly up stairs knocked at her Chamber door, an old Gentlewoman (who had formerly been her Nurse) lay in the Chamber with her and was going in to Bed, when she heard some Body knock at the Chamber door, She asked who was there, And their business, to which one of them answered, we are the Commissioners and want to speak one word with her Honour upon Urgent business, which was forgot before, and must be dispatched this Night. She acquainted the Countess with what they said, who ordered her to let them in. As they were by her Bedside discoursing with her, Sabrino cries out, I, here he is, here's the Rogue, and pulls his Nephew by the heels from under the Bed, and calling him Rogue, Villain and Traitor, to abuse so good a Lord, struck him through the heart with his Sword, before he could speak one word to Vindicate himself or his Lady's Honour. It was now in vain for the Countess to Endeavour to purge herself from a Crime which appeared against her by so Notorious an Evidence, tho' she did in the presence of several Worthy persons take the Sacrament upon it, that as she never had been Guilty against her Husband's Bed, so she knew nothing of that Persons being there; that it was all the malicious Contrivance of Sabrino (whose unlawful desires she had refused with Scorn and contempt) that had now plotted this Revenge to Rob her of her life and Honour at the same time. This some believed, who thought the Countess to be as uncorrupt as Virtue itself. But others said here's plain demonstration against her, and she who dares commit Adultery, will not stick at a lie to defend her Gild. The Commissioners writ a Letter to the Count to acquaint him with this unhappy News, in which they gave a most particular account, and in the Close highly Commended the Fidelity and Justice of Sabrino, who seeing his Honour abused, would not spare his nearest Relation. The Count was astonished at the News above any Misfortune that could have happened, and notwithstanding this demonstration, as they called it in their Letter, he put a greater Confidence in the Justice and integrity of the Countess, then in all their Solemn protestations. And as he sent them word He was extremely troubled for the Countess ●hat she should lie under so heavy an Aspersion, which if he did not believe the World would, and therefore with prayers for her deliverance (if Innocent) did resign her up to the Law, so he should have been much better Satisfied in the Gild of his Wife, if Sabrino had Spared his Kinsman's Life, in that Transport of rage in which he killed him. Upon the Receipt of this Letter the Commissioners, (as the Custom is there) disposed the Countess into a Nunnery, where She is to continue a year and a day, and if in that time no Champion appears to justify her Innocence against her Accuser, She is upon the last day brought into the List appointed for the Combatants (if there be any) and there burnt at a Stake, which death she Legally suffers if her Champion has the worst of it. The Countess was highly sensible of this as the greatest affliction that ever befell her, yet her own Innocence, and the Satisfaction that arose from thence made the distress much more easy and supportable. The Count was st●●l Engaged in the Wars, and the Countess had now been three quarters of a year a Prisoner in the Nunnery, and no Person appeared in her behalf to Vindicate her Honour and Virtue. She now considered that the small remainder of her Life would soon be gone, and unless some Gentleman would Entertain such Honourable thoughts of her, as to believe her Guiltless, and Engage his Life to preserve hers, she must certainly suffer, and as no Person had yet offered himself, so was she altogether at a loss where to find that Gallant Friend. At last amongst other English Gentlemen who had been formerly her Friends and Acquaintance, She fixed upon Philanthus, but at the same time Corrected her Error in thinking that he who believed himself the most disobliged of all Mankind, should now hazard his Life to Vindicate her Reputation, No, certainly he would be pleased to hear of her Miseries, and rejoice to see her proud heart now humbled under the deepest afflictions, but on the other Hand considering him as a Gentleman, a Person of unquestionable Courage and Gallantry, and one whose former affections were most sincerely devoted to her Service, he would rather Court such an opportunity to lay an everlasting obligation on her which all her Treasury of thanks and Gratitude should be too poor to recompense. And this took place in her resolution; Accordingly She writ a Letter to Philanthus, and sent it by a Gentleman who had been formerly her Servant, with orders where to find or Inquire for him at London, and to deliver him that Letter, receive his Answer, and return with all speed. Philanthus who had still the same respect and love for Orithia as would consist with Honour, having read the Letter, was extremely troubled at it, but at the same time being Ruined himself in his Fortunes, his mind sunk under the load of miseries which oppressed him, writ back a most passionate Letter of excuse, with wh●ch she was no less affected as well for his as her own sake. Orithia Spent her short time (which now wanted but a week of the fatal day) in recommending her Soul to Heaven, wholly despairing of any relief on Earth. Philanthus having since seriously considered the present distress of the Countess, and that she must for ever suffer in her Memory, which to all Noble Spirits is Ten times worse than a Thousand deaths, and that though in his excuse to her he had not put his own interest or business into the Scale to balance against her Life and Honour; But that strange and unexpected disasters had reduced him to that mean degree of want that he was not able to Equip himself for the Service; Yet this from a Generous Spirit was mean and pitiful, that however his Friends would not assist him here, he could want nothing there of Horse or Arms a Cavalier could ask. After he had pondered a while on this thought he went to a Gentleman of his intimate acquaintance, showed him the Letter, and begged of him to furnish him with Moneys for that design which he did, and Philanthus a short time after went privately over to Savoy. Being arrived at Turenne he Enquired at what Nunnery the Countess de Montallo was, and what the general opinion were concerning her Gild or Innocence's; Understanding the Nunnery wa● Thirty Miles from Turenne, and that all Persons spoke well of her & did believe her falsely accused, he went directly thither. Being come within Four Miles of the Nunnery, by the side of a great Wood, he spied a Hermit's Cell, at which alighting, he asked of the Holy Father, what the discourse was about the Countess, he told him that in a fair Plain before the Nunnery, She was to suffer to Morrow Morning before Eleven of the Clock, if there was no Person f●u●d so hardy to fight her Accuser, nor did he yet hear of any Champion who had appeared in her behalf. Upon which he told him, he had a very great desire to see her before she suffered, but he supposed it would b● very difficult to obtain that Favour unless he had on a Religious habit, and if he would do him that kindness to lend him his Weeds, he would wa●k over that Afternoon and return in the Evening, and leave his Horse and Armour there till he came back; the Herm●t very readily agreed to it, than Philanthus (who spoke Italian well) put on his Weeds, and in all Respects appeared to be a grave Religious Hermit, having a long Beard and all things answerable. He was now Arrived at the Nunnery, and out of Respect to his habit (for Hermits are there had in great Veneration) was immediately conducted into the Countess' Chamber, where entering, those Nuns who were attending upon her withdrew, that she might have the more freedom of discourse with this Religious Father. He stayed with her three Hours, and was as well satisfied of her Innocency and Sabrino's Roguery as his heart could wish. Ask her, if she had no hopes of any Friend to appear in the Lists to Morrow on her behalf, She said, No, She never sent but to One English Gentleman, and his Misfortunes happened at the same time to be almost as great as her own. When he took his leave of the Countess, she pulled off a Diamond Ring from her Finger, and told him, Holy Father, I am obliged to you above what I am able to Express for your Prayers, and good Advice, I have nothing of Worldly Goods left Me to dispose of but this Ring, which was given Me by my Brother in England, a little before I Married into this Country, I pray accept it, and keep it for my sake. The Hermit received it with all Thankfulness, and taking his leave, burst out into tears to see so great a Beauty reduced to those thin meager looks, and that Virtue of which she had so large a portion should be Triumphed over by wickedness and Villainy. At parting the Countess shook him by the Hand and cheerfully b●d him not weep, this was the last day she could be miserable. Philanthus returned to the Cell where he again put on his own Habit, and told the Hermit what he thought of the Innocency of the Countess. The next Morning at Nine of the Clock the Countess all in white, was brought from the Nunnery into a fair adjacent plain, in the middle of which was fixed a Stake, with a great deal of dried Wood and other Combustible Matter. On a large Scaffold on one side was a Chair placed for the Countess, and at the other end a Tribunal Erected for those who were appointed to see the Execution performed, and if there should happen to be any Combatants, to determine any matter of difference that should arise. The Judges being Seated on the Tribunal and the Countess in the Chair, Proclamation was made, that if any Person would Venture to Wage War in defence of the Countess de Montallo's Innocency, Signior Sabrino the Accuser was ready to Answer him at single Combat. Before this Proclamation was made, all the Drums, Trumpets, Clarions and Instruments of field Music first sounded, & then the principal of the Judges gave order for the first Proclamation, and so for the Second, when being ready to give the last Summons, at a distance appeared a Champion who by the waving of his Sword, gave Notice what he intended, he was Mounted on a Milk white Courser in black Mourning Armour, his Beaver fast locked down, his Device, the Sun Shining gloriously from a Cloud upon distressed Innocence, which was a Virgin habited all in white. As soon as this strange Champion was Entered the Lists, a Herald demanded of him who he was that came thus Armed? he told him, he came to lose his Life or Vindicate the Honour of the Countess of Montallo, who was unjustly accused by a Rogue a Liar and a Villain; and that he would prove him to be. Upon this the Herald demanded of the Countess, if she was willing to Venture her Life and Honour upon the Success of her Champion, to which she answered, yes, I pray God prosper him. Immediately after upon the Sound of the Trumpets, the two Warriors set Spurs to their Horses, and in the first Career, the Lady's Champion had the worst, and lost one of his Stirrups, when recovering himself he redoubled that disadvantage upon his Enemy, having broke their Spears they fell to their Swords, when Philanthus lent him such a blow on the Helmet, that one half of it fell down upon his Shoulders upon which followed whole streams of Blood; At this the whole Cirque (which consisted of Thousands of Spectators) gave a loud Shout, Sabrino being Cut deep into the Scull, and having lost a great quantity of Blood, in the middle of the next Course fell headlong from his Horse. Philanthus leapt readily down and putting the point of his Sword to his Throat, bid him ask his Life, 'tis too late, says Sabrino, But I'll clear my Soul from all filthy Sin b●fore I die, Upon which a Confessor was called, to whom he publicly Confessed his unjust Accusation of the Countess, and the reason that put him upon such a Bloody Revenge, so long as he had Breath he called often upon her to forgive him, which was not long, for his Wound was past Cure, and in less than half an Hour he died. I shall forbear to mention the loud shouts and acclamations of the people, for the Countess' deliverance, and that her Innocency was cleared in the Face of the whole World; In the midst of all this Joy and Triumph, Philanthus stole privately away without being known by any Person who he was, and came over to England, where he never discovered the least Syllable of what he had done to any of her own Relations. The Countess was now led back in Triumph, and Complemented with the Visits of all Persons of Quality, and Congratulations of all her Friends, when every one Enquired of her, this Gentleman's Name and Country who was her Champion, She told them, at the place of death she expected none, nor knew of any, that as he came from Heaven for aught She knew he was returned thither again, for notwithstanding the strictest Enquiry She could make, she heard no account of him. A Courser was immediately dispatched with Letters to give the Count a Relation of this great News, who was so extremely Transported with it, that being but lately recocovered from a dangerous Fever, it threw him into a Relapse of which within few days he died. But before his death, in his Cooler fits he ordered his Secretary to write a most kind and passionate Letter to the Countess to rejoice with her for her Miraculous preservation, which afterwards she received, he made his Will and left her all his whole Estate for Life, besides Jewels Plate and Money to a very great Value. Soon after his death she parted with all the Land to the next heir, for a Valuable consideration in Money, and returned to England after She had been five years and three Months absent. Philanthus went as other Gentlemen and Ladies did to give their Service and Welcome to Orithia, and Fortuned to find her in the Dining Room all alone, who received him with all Respects, but upon discourse of the Letters extremely blamed his unkindness and degenerous Spirit, that could value any thing to the World above the Honour and Life of a Lady for whom once he had some regard. Philanthus endeavoured to Excuse himself from the great necessity and distress he was then under, that tho' when her Ladyship left England he was Master of a fair Estate, yet since by some extraordinary Losses he had received, and Charges in Law-Suits he was at this present reduced to down Right poverty and want. She told him she was hearty sorry for it, but that Fate and Chance ran through the whole World. Company coming in, Dinner was placed upon the Table, and when it was almost over, Philanthus put on the Ring and presented his Service to the Countess in a Glass of Wine, She presently saw the Ring and Changed Colour, which was taken Notice of by my Lord her Brother, and all the Company, who asked if she was not well, at that she blushed again, and said yes my Lord, indifferent, however th●y perceived some sudden alteration which they could not Guess the reason of. Af●er Dinner was done she stepped to Philanthus, and taking him on one side, desired to know from whence he had that Ring. Madam, says he I had it from a Lady f●r whose sake I will never part with it. Sir, sa●d she, I presume I know it, yes, Madam, y●u do so, and gave it to a Hermit on the Evening before you was to suffer. I, Madam. was that Hermit, and next day your, Champion. Upon which the Countess gave th● whole Relation of it to the Comp●ny, and promised Philanthus in Gratitude to him, she would make him M●ster of h●r self and all her Fortune next Morning, which was accordingly done, and the Marriage Celebrated with all pomp and Solemnity. Evadne having thus Finished her Relation, the whole Company bowed their respects, and were all extremely pleased with it, especially Melintus, who Styled it a most pleasant and divertive Story; and Philotas being next in turn, Melintus told him he remembered a Story he had formerly the happiness to hear him relate, which (if he mistook not) was the unhappy History of Leander and Clitia, and as it pleased then, if he would now Oblige the Company with a Recital of it, he questioned not but it would be ●o their entire Satisfaction, accordingly Philotas thus began. NOVEL the Seventh. By PHILOTAS. THe vast Number of Candles, that in the Winter Quarter are hung out every Night, and serve as an Ornament to the streets of London, began to light those who walk late without Torches, when one of the most Famous Surgeons of that populous City was sent for in great haste, and his Assistance desired at a House not far distant from his own, where he was immediately conducted, and there found a very Handsome Young Gentleman, (whom the Company called Leander) very desperately wounded, and upon search found, he had receiv●d two dangerous pricks from a Sword; He heard those about him whispering that he had given himself those Wounds, so unexpectedly that none could divert the evil consequence of so bloody an Enterprise: The Surg●on would have applied the first dressing to his Wounds, but Leander would not permit him, saying, that he did not deserve longer to live on the Earth, and desired therefore that death might put a period to his Life; This gave occasion for some of the Company to Entertain an opinion that he was somewhat distempered in mind, whilst the rest did really believe him to be distracted, which he perceiving did earnestly desire their silence, and he would give them a Recital of his Misfortunes, accordingly he began his discourse in this manner. My Wife being some Months since g●ne to divert herself at a Countryhouse belonging to some of her Kindred, I had the Misfortune to happen into the Company of a Young Person, whose beauty might claim precedence ●o're her whole Sex. The charming Features of her Face, and deluding witchcraft of her Tongue, had such a powerful Influence o'er my Spirits that my Heart was suddenly Fired with the wanton desires of an unlawful passion and an amorous inclination dunwarily stole upon me. Her Lodging being in a quarter of the City remote from mine, I thought I might easily bring her into an opinion that I was a Bachelor, which I Endeavoured to persuade her to, as knowing such most acceptable to them, the quality of Husband in such case being no ways pleasing to them, by reason they cannot hope (if occasion should so require) to obtain them for their own; I had wrought myself in a short time into her favour and good opinion, that all outward appearances persuaded me that nothing was wanting on my behalf, but a good courage and confidence to render me happy and contented, I resolved therefore vigorously to put the Lady to it, but though I made a good attaque, she made no worse a defence, and told me, that unless it were in the way of Marriage, I must expect no favour from her. I was surprised at the resistance she made, whereby I learned that outward appearances are often deceitful, and that those Women which seem most complying by the manner of their carriage and conversation are quite otherwise then what we take them for, when they are pressed to any thing beyond the bounds of an honest Affection. The resistance of that Lovely Maid who was called Clitia, did but the more inflame me, but it also greatly perplexed me, for (in short) I was Married to a P●rson of whom I had no reason to complain, and whose return from the Country I daily expected; All the protestations of Marriage which I made to this beautiful Maid availed me nothing, and all my Prayers and entreats stood me in little stead, neither would the Finest arguments I could invent to persuade her to yield to my desires win any thing upon her, she still stood firm to her first design. This Counterfeit modesty and Virtue charmed me with the more love, which seemed to me as the greatest Marks of the entire Affection and she bore me; not in the least perceiving that she Entertained a Gallant Named Clitophon, who was of Intelligence with her, to draw me into the snare of Matrimony with her, so that I must be the Husband, and he the Gallant who would continue his Pastime at my Cost. Leander beginning to grow weak, by reason of the great Loss of Blood he had sustained, was Interrupted in this part of his Story, that care might be taken of his Wounds, but he would not suffer their endeavours, notwirhstanding whatsoever Entreaties they made him, or whatsoever Efforts they used to Cure him, even against his Will; All the Compliance they could obtain of him was, that he would suffer himself to be succoured so soon as he had Finished his Discourse, but was sensible all their Endeavours would come too late, for he was certain that Death (which he so much desired) would quickly put a Period to his days, they were forced to grant his Demand, though not without some Reluctancy, and then he pursued his Discourse after the Manner following, My Perplexity having continued some time and not having yet Fixed upon any Resolution, I Received a Letter from my Wife, wherein she gave an Account what day she would Arrive at London. After the Reading of her Letter, I went to Clitia, and found her that day so Beautiful and Charming (in my Imagination) that forthwith there was Framed in my Mind this horrible Design, which I am about to Relate, and which Caused me to Promise Clitia, that within a short time I would Espouse her, I then took my leave, my Mind being Fixed upon the damnable Resolution I had Pitched upon before; So soon as I Arrived at my own Lodging I Resisted this Devilish Enterprise, and took up Resolutions quite contrary to the former, but the next day making another visit to Clitia, my depraved mind reassumed its first wicked Sentiment? and I fully determined within myself, to go in disguise and Kill my Wife in her way home, which bloody Enterprise I had no sooner Executed and returned free from discovery, but I went immediately to her House who had first inspired my Evil Genius with the wicked Sentiments of so Horrid a Murder, but Oh! the admirable Justice of Heaven? I found her dead and was informed that she was with Child by the Gallant, who had hitherto con●e●l'd himself from my taking Notice of him, and that she had used violent means upon her Body to force an abortion, after that I had promised her Marriage, which precipitate and cruel procedure had been the cause of her Death. Immediately my Crime returned into my remembrance and it presented itself with such Horror to my imagination, that I could not endure to think of so vile a wretch as myself, than it was that I Framed a design to Kill myself, which just now I have put in Execution. Now that you know my Crime (added he) I cannot believe you so cruel to bestow your care in preserving a Life, which within a short time would be forced from me by the Hangman. In Finishing these words he was Seized with a great weakness, and died in a short time after. The Company (being his Friends) desired the Surgeon not to discover any thing of the matter; and the Confession he had made of his Crimes did greatly surprise and astonish the whole Company. The whole Company were extremely pleased with the Recital of this Tragical History by Philotas, which they Expressed by a grateful acknowledgement, but the Misfortune of Leander moved compassion in the minds of the Auditors, Theodosia then knowing it to be her place to conclude, declared to the Company that part of the Stories already Recited, had made an alteration in her mind, that she must of necessity pass by that she intended next, having so near affinity to the former, and proceed to another, which she began in this manner. NOVEL the Eighth. By THEODOSIA. IN the Late Reign of Queen Mary; Baldwin a Swedish Gentleman by Birth (being Younger Brother to the Count de Walbourgh) espoused an English Lady, and was on his return from Canterbury in the County of Kent, to his own House not far distant from an adjacent River; It was in the long days of Summer, when the greatest heats make the Shades to be most affected; His Man who carried his Male, and his two Footmen, being more thirsty than their Master, were stayed at a Tavern to drink and refresh themselves, whilst Baldwin went leisurely on dreaming, and arrived alone at the River side; as he stayed there for his Men to pass over with him, there came a handsome Young Man reasonably well Clothed, who proffered to take the Bridle of his Horse, the comely aspect of this Youth caused him to commiserate his Fortune, when questioning him what he was, the Youth with a Voice able to inchant the Rocks; said, I am an Orphan having neither Father or Mother, my Country is the Northern part of England right to the borders of Scotland, forsaken by all there, and am going towards Normandy, to find out ●n Uncle of mine, Brother to my Mother, and see if he will take pity on me, or find me out some place whereby serving I may get my Living; Youth, said Baldwin, it is easy to be seen that you have not been brought up to serve, at least wise in painful Offices, it is true, Replied he, if it had pleased God to have spared me my Father, who was an Honest Merchant, I should not be reduced to this misery, but Merchants are not known till they die, his Shop was fair, and his Credit great, but at his death all failed, and his debts were found far greater th●n all he had; So that being destitute of all means, I must make a Virtue of necessity, and seek to eat my Bread by the Swe●t of my Brow. Baldwins heart was mollifyed at this Youth's Disaster, and he resolved to r●t●in him in his Service, imagining that he had on h●s Forehead a certain R●y of 〈◊〉 and ●id●dity, w●ary with staying for his Men, he entered the ●oat with this Youth, who Named himself Gervase, Baldwins Habitation was from thence about three short English miles; wherein Gervase found himself but a bad Footman, yet on the way he entertained his new Master with such good discourse that the time seemed not long. Being arrived home, and saluting his Wife, he said unto her, Madam, I bring to you a new Guest, whose good Countenance serves for Letters of Credence, I have destinated him to wait on our Son (this was a Child of some Nine or Ten years of Age,) his Lady looking on Gervase found hi● to be perfectly acceptable, and praised her Husband's judgement, for applying him so worthily as to wait on their Son. Vincent (for that was the child's Name) was in a short time so taken with the Conversation of Gervase, and Gervase betook himself with so much care and diligence to tend and serve him, that Father Mother and Son, were equally satisfied therewith, the whole Family taking extreme delight in the modest behaviour, gentle disposition and charming Conversation of this Beautiful Young Man, which could not but Charm the most Savage Spirits. But, Alas! Beauty that acceptable Gift of Heaven, as 'tis a pleasing illusion of the Sense, so 'tis a Snare to the Soul, it Tyrannically extendeth its power over the heart of Aurelia, Baldwins Lady, insomuch that Love and Honour are at strife which shall most predominate, the one striking her Soul with a cold fear, the other with a burning desire; but all the efforts of honour were vain, Love usurping Sole Dominion over her heart; When having made choice of one of her Maids (Named Judith) for her Confident, She made known to her with what Disease she was infected, and how she was forced to seek Remedy from the Serpent that had bit her, Judith promiseth her Mistress to assist her with the utmost of her endeavours, although her thoughts were quite contrary to what her Mouth uttered for she was struck with the same Dart herself, however she thinking it a probable means to oblige Gervase, that he might no longer continue the disdain wherewith he had hitherto repaid her Love, she declared to him the passion and affection of Aurelia towards him, Gervase who had divers times showed unto Judith that those discourses were no ways pleasing to him, rejected this also; Judith finding she could not obtain Credence in his mind, Counselled her Mistress to speak herself, if she would be understood, this froward Youth having no Ears to her persuasions; What Grief felt Aurelia to find she had in vain declared herself to this Maid, whose Answer was a sad presage of the small hopes she might have to bring Gervase to her desire, what new pains took she to pluck this Thorn out of her Soul, but at the first Sight of this fair Object, all these Endeavours vanished into Smoak, and new fires took possession of her Heart; Judith had brought them together, and to give her Mistress more freedom, retired herself into another Chamber, Aurelia then talks to Gervase with Stuttering Language, and with anxious fears, like unto those of a Guilty Person before a Judge, she Labours to make him Susceptible of her Torment. Fair Gervase is Amazed to find himself alone without a Witness, by a Woman which uttered unto him such Language, as he could not hear without Extreme perplexity, the different Charges of his Colour, sufficiently witnessed by h●s Face the inward Resentments of his mind, his Eyes b●nd●d to the Ground, his Silence, and his Countenance gave Aurelia an Answer which was not pleasing; Her presents were Liberal, her promises large, her intreatyes unseemly, her Sighs Vehement, her tears in abundance, but these Winds and these Waters were as Storms against a Rock; Gervase appeared insensible like the Statue Pygmalion fell in Love withal; The heat of Love pierced by a bloody contempt, commonly turns into a ●u●ious Wrath, Aurelia was upon the point of this Change, when Gervase to conjure this Tempest, and cut out the Root of this Disease at its first breeding, resolves to Unmask the Counterfeit, and cause pity of himself in her, who Craved it of him. Madam, (said he, unbuttoning his Doublet) behold these Breasts, and ask no Answer, except you will see me die at your Feet with shame; Men are not better known by the Beard than Women by their Breasts; This sight left no manner of doubt in the Soul of Aurelia, but that Gervase was a Woman, and as it is said, that Thunder falling upon a Serpent, in lieu of taking away life, doth but take away his Venom, so this sudden Clap rooting out of this Woman's Heart all the poison of her bad desires, took not away her Love to Gervase, but left it there with pity, and this pity bred a desire to know the fortune of this Man-Maid, that she might seek to yield her some Assistance in her Disaster, and with this intent said, since Heaven hath made me Fortunate by this knowledge, and changed the Rock whereon I would have made Shipwreck, into a Haven of safety for mine Honour, I do promise you for your freeness towards me, to conceal your Sex as long as you please, and if you desire any help, you may as freely discover the cause of your being in this State, assuring you that you shall find in me all the Assistance which you can Expect from a Woman desirous of the preservation both of your Honour and of your Person. Madam, Replied Gervase, mischiefs are so contagious, that the very Recital of them doth ever breed some Alteration, even in the calmest Spirits: Let me therefore Groan under the burden of my Misfortunes, and suffer not your Felicity to be troubled by the Recital of them; Rest contented to take Pity on a Poor Maid, who puts her Honour and her Life into your Protection: This Evasion did but whet in Aurelia that Curiosity so Natural in Women, and gave her occasion to reply thus, as physicians heal no Diseases, but those they know, so likewise cannot I assist you in your Misfortunes, if you discover not unto me the cause thereof, to the End that knowing who you are, and in what manner you came to be in this disguise, I may behave myself towards you, as I ought, and since there is a Remedy for all things but Death, strive to re-establish yourself in the degree from whence Fortune it seems hath made you fall, for you have a Ray of Nobility on your Brow shines through the Clouds of your present Condition, and makes it appear even to the weakest understanding, that you have not been bred after a common manner; Madam Replied Gervase, my woes are past Recovery, since they proceed from a Death, and therefore being my miseries ought to be put among incurable Maladies, let me entreat you to cast away that Needless Care which you take to Cure me, and let me pass away under your Protection my small remainder of Life, as well I feel that Sorrow and Grief for my Fault do undermine it by degrees, and will not let me long Survive him, without whom the Fairest days are to me as darkest, and like a Linger Death, in saying this, Gervase let fall from his Eyes, tears resembling those Drops of Rain which the ardent Heat of the Sun doth Squeeze out in the fairest days of Summer; but so far was Aurelia's curious desire from being quenched, that this Water resembled that which Smiths put on th' it Cinders, whereby the Fire is increased and not put out; Therefore extraordinarily pressing Gervase to disclose unto her his Adventures, he was constrained to satisfy her, when having dried his Eyes, and obtained a Truce from his Sighs, he began in this manner. I am Daughter to a Cambridg●shire Gentleman, of the Ancient order of Knighthood, he hath divers Children, and I am the Second of his Daughters, and the cause of this dishonour, and trouble of his House, Baptism Named me, Sophronia, which was the Name of my Mother who died when I was but Six Years of Age; When my Sister and myself were grown up to some years of Maturity, Love assailed us and made a Conquest ●●re our Hearts, My Eldest Sister loved a Young Gentleman whom she Wedded not; But to obey the Will of our Father She Wedded an Old Gentleman whom she never affected: She made me such strange Complaints of being Tied to a Man she loved not, that it seemed she endured the Torment which that Tyrant inflicted, who fastened dead Bodies to the Loving, till they died 〈◊〉 this Cruel languishing manner; Nay, she described to me, her Torment to be equal ●nto that which is suffered in Hell. And indeed such may one call a Marriage wherein the parties do neither agree in the Wills of the Heart, nor the delights of the Body, this misery which I considered in her, made me resolve to avoid the like, how dear soever it cost me. But, Aias! to shun one G●●f, I cast myself into another, and I may say, if my Sister's Marriage were a Hell, the E●rics carried the Torches at mine, and conducted me to a Disaster worse than Hell. Valerius a Young Gentleman, but a Younger Brother of our Neighbourhood, had my first, and shall have my last affection: He was placed at the University to Study the Law and Cambridge not being many miles distant from my Father's House he made me fre●●ent Visits, and we lived some years in so perfect a Correspondence; That if my Father would have Matched us together, the Elysian Fields could never have equalled our Felicity. But b●cause this Young Man could not make so large a Jointure as he required, my Father would never consent to our Union: But I fearing a Lot like my Sisters, would needs Spin my destinies with my own Hands, and so have I fashioned the Cord which hath dragged me to the misfortune wherein I am, Valerius ever behaved himself towards me with a very incomparable modesty, so that it was not so much by his Solicitation, as by my own proper inclination, that we made reciprocal promises of Marriage, accompanied with so many Solemn Oaths, and such horrible Execrations against the party that should violate the same, that if I had had but the least thought of breaking the same, I should not have believed Heaven sufficiently furnished with Thunders to strike me according to my desert. After some time we Consummated our Clandestine Marriage, and resolved whensoever I should find myself loaden with the Fruits of Lucina, to take Flight with my Husband rather than undergo the Thunder of my Father's anger. This happened not but a more terrible Tempest o●ertook us, which brought me to the wrack wherein you see me, Sir G— a Yorkshire Knight who had been in Marriage but Three years, and was then lately become a Widower being about Thirty five years of Age, happened to Lodge at my Fathers in his Journey to London being an acquaintance of my Fathers formerly in his Travels, he found I know not what in my Face that liked him, he was a Match so advantageous, that to see me, to desire me in Marriage of my Father, and obtain me, were all such sudden Blows, that I had neither time to foresee them, nor to shield myself from them. My Father (without consulting my will) told me that he had disposed of me to Sir G— and that I must dispose myself to receive him for my Husband in some few days, if a Thunderbolt had fallen at my Heels I could not have been more astonished; I made no Answer to my Father for what could I have said that would have pleased him, and oppose Cold Excuses to his resolutions, had been of no more Effect than Bullets of Snow against the Sunbeams, I resolved suddenly to make Effects speak, and that was all that I could in so pressing a necessity, my Father took my Silence for consent. Next day my amorous Widower came to see me, and after the first Compliments of a first interview, he would have offered me his Service, under the Allowance (said he) of my Father, my Father (said I) hath not willed me to receive your Service, but your Commands, obliging me to behold you as a Master, this proceeding is to be admired thus to give away free Persons without their own consent, I am born his Daughter, and not his Slave: However I declare to you that I belong ●o a gre●t●r Master, having made a Vow 〈…〉 that made Heaven and Earth, ne● 〈…〉 any ●odi●● b●t his: If it had 〈◊〉 you to have seen me before you had 〈◊〉 to my Father, I had saved you the Labour 〈◊〉 ask a thing which you cannot Lawfully get nor possess without Sac●il●●ge: Never did I behold a Man more Amazed than he, when by this fr●● declaration he saw his hopes undermined to the very Foundation, he feared God, and therefore I co●ld not oppose any thing of more force to stay his desires, for Answer I ●ad none other, but that he was sorry to have been troublesome to my designs, yet he believed a Dispensation might Remedy all this, if I would give Ear thereto, I told him a dispensation presupposed some reasonable cause, and that I saw no necessity to ●e●oke a Vow which I had made without necessity. He sees my Father, and communicates my Answer to him: Who instantly falls into anger, and from thence into injurious words and Threats. He had once gotten knowledge of my affection to Valerius, and had interdicted me the commerce thereof, and now presently believes. That in despite of that, I had made this Vow, and (such is the Tyranny of Paternal Authority) he imagined that I could not Vow without his consent, he immediately consults a Civilian, who gave him to understand that nothing was more easy, than to get a Dispensation of this Vow, he who was no less desirous to have Sir G— for his Son in Law, than Sir G.— to have me for his Wife, gets a Dispensation, and all preparations being made for our public betrothing, and the Articles signed between Sir G.— and my Father, what should I have done? declare my Clandestine marriage Consummated with Valerius, no, I had not Brass enough in my Face, to undergo so much shame, besides I should have Exposed my Husband's Life to manifest danger; The Council we took was to retire disguised from the Country to London, and from thence to France, he had for some time born Arms under a Prince of the house of Austria in the Wars betwixt the French and the Spaniards, in which he always behaved himself with that Skill and Valour that he had gained acquaintance with the most Noted Officers of the Army, and there we thought we might Live in Shelter, and in Case of pursuit that we might Sail from thence into Holland and hid ourselves from the fury of my Father, he Clothed me in Man's Apparel as you see, and in this manner we lest Cambridgeshire, passing through London, we were on our journey towards Dover, where we designed to take Shipping for France. But Fortune my Capital Enemy, to end on me the last Stroke of her Vengeance, permitted that as we crossed a Forest, we were set upon by four Theives, who had given Valerius two Wounds before he could put himself in a Posture of defence, as soon as he had drawn his Sword he ran him through who had first Wounded him, the others to revenge the Death of their Fellow made an end of him presently, affrighted as I was and dazzled with the Glittering o● so many Swords, I fled into the Thick of the W●od, where turning my Horse lose I remained till midnight with dolours of fears, at last under the Moon's pail Light, I began to seek what I feared to meet with; alas, I found Valerius naked (for these Theives had taken away his very Shirt, and pierced him through in so many places, that I believe their Rage extended to give him many thrusts after his Death, at hi● Feet lay also their Fellow stretched along N●ked, whose Face they had mangled that he might not be Known, I was so overcome with sorrow, that had it not been for a secret fear of Eternal Damnation which Seized my Soul, I had a Thousand times struck a Knife into my Heart, I passed the rest of the Night in Griefs which cannott be imagined, and in troubles unconceivable, for me to return to my Friends after so Gross a fault, was a thing whereunto I could not resolve, nor on which side to turn, in a Country altogether unknown to me; At last I resolved to give my sel● over unto Divine Providence, and to tend towards those in France, whereof my Husband had so much told me; And after I had wet him with tears, I fled from this infamous Wood for fear of being apprehended as Guilty, having passed along till I had lost Sight of the Forest, I happened I know not how to be at the River, when my Master arrived there to pass, I helped him down from his Horse, and afterwards to get up again when we were on the other side, he asked me who I was, I made him believe what I would to cover my true disgrace, under a feigned History, he took me to serve your Son, a place proportionable to my strength, and wherein I intended to expect with patience how God would dispose of me, but you would needs with pity take some part in my pain, but I humbly entreat you, Madam, let that pity be to keep close that Secret which you have Commanded me to discover to you, and to be careful in preserving that small remainder of Honour i● this miserable Creature whom Excessive, but Lawful Love of a Husband hath born into extremities whereunto you see her now reduced; Gervase Ended in this manner the Recital of her Fortune, falling down on her Knees before Aurelia, who in Compassion mingled her tears with the tears of this disconsolate Woman, and Kissing and Embracing her, promised never to forsake her, and to have the same care of her as if she were her own Daughter. After that time reason took place in the affection of A●relia, from whence it had been drawn by passion, her actions were better ordered, her frame Sweeter and more Moderate; it was not so with Judith whose passion augmented daily by the Shunnings, Refusals, and contempt of Gervase, which this Foolish Wench attributed unto the pride which she thought he took in the Enjoyment of his Mistress, and though A●relia (without discovering the Secret of G●rvase) assured her that h●r Love was converted into Friendship, and Gervase was the most and Virtuous Youth in the World, this Maid heated by another Fire▪ imagined that A●●elia held this discourse, but t● cover her Game, whilst she possessed her Adonis, and truly Judith's Suspit●o●s w●re not without some show or likelihood of Ground, for Aurelia now beholding Gervase but as a Woman, used so much freedom with him, and made him come into her Chamber at such Suspicions Hours, that the least Credulous would h●ve been tempted to take it 〈◊〉 this was that put J●dith into a desperate jealousy, which peevish Humour made ho● do a base, and Treacherous Act, that caused a Tragical Event, and a Misfortune which gave birth unto a prosperity, and thus it was: After she saw that all her Solicitations to fair Gervase were lost Labours, and imagining that the Refusals were disdains, being stung with anger at th●se imaginary contempts, she resolved seeing she could not content her Love, to satisfy her Revenge, and undo her Rival Mistress, together with him that would not correspond unto her affections, it was by an Advertisement she gave her Master of the bad deal of Aurelia and Gervase, whereof she shown such apparent Colours, that Baldwin nothing doubted but that he was dishonoured by his Wife. Immediately then how to Revenge it at full, he makes show of lying forth, and by the help of Judith hides himself in a Closet near Aurelia's Bedchamber, this Lady who took extreme delight in Gervase, and in making him relate the particularities of his House and Country, of his Love and Fortune, failed not to make him come at Night, when she would put him into his discourse, and fall a sleep thereon, but whilst she is in Bed and Gervase sitting at her Beds-Head talking to her, Baldwin is preparing Fire and Sword to revenge the injury, which he believes to be but too Apparent, he starts forth of his Ambuscado, and comes with his Pistol in Hand, crying with full Mouth, Ha'? Accursed Woman now is the time that thou shalt Wash my Spotted Honour with thy Blood, and that both yourself and your Adulterer shall pay interest for the wrongs you have done me, and without hearing any Answer shoots of his Pistol, thinking to dash out Aurelia's brains, but she turning her Head aside, the shot went into the Feathers without doing any other Effect, only that it burned the Cheek of this poor Lady, who in this trouble misdoubted the cause of her Husband's Wrath, but had no more leisure than to cry out, O Sir, Gervase is a Woman, wherein Baldwin whose Sword was already drawn to end therewith what the Fire had spared, as if a flash of Lightning had dazzled his eyes, stood in Suspense at these words, when Gervase more dead than Alive, cast herself at his feet, and with the discovery of her Breasts assured him that Aurelia's Words were but too true; And presently to clear his understanding, of so many confusion's wherewith his Soul was troubled, Gervase though tremling, related to him the whole History, as you have heard of her Misfortune, which drew tears from the Eyes of Baldwin, and made him infinitely repent what he had done; m●an time Remedies were applied to the burn on A●relia's face which beside the pain threatened her with a great deformity, but whether▪ it were the inclamation that redoubled, or through the extreme terror which she had felt in hearing a Pistol Thunder at her Ear, and see herself near losing her Life, she fell into a strong Fever, which in three days laid her in her Grave; Baldwin lamented much for her, both because he truly Loved h●r, and for that he saw himself to be the cause of her death, he had almost discharged the burden of his Wrath on Judith and Sacrificed her to the Manes of her Mistress, but when he knew that she herself had been deceived, and that the Conjectures of the Evil had been so strong, he was contented only to discharge her his House. Mean time Gervase having changed her habit and being become Sophronia, appeared so fair in the Eyes of Baldwin, that Love being Entered into his Soul, by the two Gates of Beauty and pity, he resolved to Marry her as being a Gentlewoman of good descent, and the Widow of a Gentleman; Sophronia perceiving her Fortune to be desperate if she with ope● A●mes re●●ived not this occasional proffer, immediately consented to Baldwins proposition by a Solemn Marriage; and since h●ving advice that Sophr●nia's Father was dead: Baldwin had that part of the inheritance that fell to her thereby, which amounted to as good a portion as he could have had with a Wife chosen out of his own Country. Th●t Sophronia's Misfortune was by Divine Providence changed into a good Fortune, and that moment of tim● intended for her Death, was to her a beginning of a Happier Life, it may be that the patience which she shown in that extreme adversity, for the loss of Vale●ius, and her Wise Carriage and behaviour in the Government of Baldwin's Son, brought her to this felicity not without great wonder to little Vincent, who saw his Tutor in a short time changed to his Mother in Law. As Theodosia had concluded her Story, in came Count Melintus his Uncle and some other Persons of Honour from Court to give him a Visit upon which the Company broke up M●lintus p●ying his more particular thanks to Theodosia for her Delightful Story, which was Seconded by all the Gentlemen and Ladies, and as they took ●●ave Melintus told the Company he was in Arrears himself, but must b●g Pardon till their next Meeting, when he did not question but he should discharge himself to their Satisfaction. FINIS.