THE HISTORY OF THE LOVES OF LYSANDER AND SABINA; A NOVEL.  
LONDON, Printed, and are to be sold by J. Taylor, at the Ship in S. Paul's Churchyard, 1688.   

To the Deserving and Ingenious William Forester of Dottel Esq  
SIR,  
MY Lisander that never used to beg any body's Protection but that of the Ladies, now casts himself at your feet, and humbly sues for yours. If his English be none of the finest-spun, I desire you would remember he has been a Soldier and a Traveller: and if the mistakes in his Conduct cannot now and then escape without observation, I would have other men learn Wisdom at his expense, and make use of those Rocks whereon he split, for Sea-marks. I never designed to draw his Character so great, that like Pantagruel's Doublet it should fit no body else; it is far short of that which our men of Wit are used to give their brain-born Hero's, and therefore he thought it dangerous to Address himself to any but a very Candid Maecenas. Such, I am very well assured, you are, and for fear of being mistaken, I have all the Kingdom on my side.  
But your early Honours both Civil and Military have saved me the labour of a Panegyric, (the ordinary entertainment of Dedications) and only left me room to say, 'tis pity your Virtue is so singular, and that your merit has no more Emulators.  
〈…〉 ●●●●●●cation that ever I made, and it may be the first that ever you received; and if you chance to meet with any thing in these Maiden sheets that shall please, I shall think my pen has lost her Virginity with honour, and begin to arrogate to myself the Mighty Title of an Author, only for having the honour of so great a Patron.  
All that remains now Sir, is to beg your Pardon, for venturing to prefix your name to such a Trifle without your least knowledge or Consent: All the excuse I can make is this, I did it without making you acquainted, that you might hear it condemned without blushing, and never think yourself in the least concerned to defend the Errors of  
Your humble Servant T. S.   

LISANDER, Or the SOLDIER OF FORTUNE.  
THey that have taken pains to digest Moral Philosophy into a Body, or System of Precepts, have always assigned Virtue the middle place between two Extremes. And yet methinks, a very little Logic, more than what we suck from our Nurses, might show a man of Sense such knots, and difficulties in the assertion, as Aristotle himself (were he alive again) might find enough to do to resolve. For Example, Covetousness, and Prodigality are the Extremes of Liberality: and so are Cowardice and Fool-hardiness of Fortitude: and yet we must confess, that both these Excesses are the more easily corrected, and so nearer to the Mean than either of the contrary defects: Otherwise the terms of Magnificent, and Heroick (which in all Ages have met with such a profound respect) could never be either necessary, or suitable to the Character of a Great man. Were it not to give my Reader occasion of suspecting my own inclinations, I might say as much of the excess of Love, which though it have driven many out of the beaten paths, and methods which the severer precepts of our Grandfathers have designed, yet can the most of those Truants say, and the World will subscribe to them besides, that they have commonly been persons of the finest Spirits, and the greatest Souls, and have done such things, as may justly challenge an honourable remembrance, as long as brave Actions have any Golden Legends, and which it may be) they had never so much as enterprised, under any other Conduct, but that of the Blind God.  
I do not offer you this Preface, as an entire and absolute Vindication of all those extravagances, which the Gentleman, that furnishes the subject of this Story, may perhaps have been guilty of, but only to mitigate the severity of your censures, and to allay the rigour of your Justice, with a little generous tenderness, and compassion. I will urge this Address on his behalf with no other Argument, but that common Principle of Self-interest, which every one finds so deep engraven in his own breast. For how can any man think, if by chance he should be overtaken with the like surprise, to obtain that pity, and connivance himself, which he has discourteously denied to others: And if he shall tell me, he is in no danger, and that he is out of shot of those childish Arms, I dare say he does not consider in the mean while, what an untoward imputation he lays upon his good nature, or what an unmanly violence he does his Reason, while all the world must needs censure him for a desperate Opiniator, that will not believe his House is as combustible as his Neighbours, till he see it on fire about his ears.  
To keep you no longer in suspense, It shall suffice me to tell you, that our Adventurer (whom in this Relation we shall call Lisander) was a Gentleman of our own Country, of an Ancient, and honourable Family, and it may be the first of his House, that for four Generations had crossed the Seas without the leave of his Friends, and a competent Subsistence. The occasion of this bold Design has been something uncertainly reported, but they that were of his Secrets, (and he himself since) tell us, that meeting with some opposition in his Amours, which neither pleased his nor the Lady's Friends, after a tedious resistance of the two contrary Passions of Love and Anger, (between which his Soul was distracted, and torn in pieces) he found himself unequal to the burden, and therefore resolved to try, if crossing the Seas, he could leave his Cares on this side the water. His heart was too great to think of any other Employment, than the Sword; and so the War betwixt the House of Austria and France, gave him a fair opportunity. Lisander had I know not what natural Aversion to the French Nation, notwithstanding that Fortune and Victory at that time seemed to have undertaken the Conduct of their Arms; and therefore resolves to serve the Spaniard. The apprehensions of hard Duty, and bad Pay, and all those Difficulties, which one that has served there knows but too well, and a man in his Circumstances might very reasonably expect, had been enough to have deterred any body, but Lisander, from the enterprise: and yet the heat of his Youth, and the Greatness of his Mind, with the desire he had of scouring those honourable Arms, which one of his Ancestors had purchased against the French at the famous Battle of Agincourt, easily contemned, and surmounted these disadvantages.  
Thus he, and the Lady of his Vows, whose name was Sabina, (after a thousand Prayers, and Arguments to divert him from this rough, design lost, and thrown away) took leave one of another. They parted with the same painful Sighs, and troubled Silence, that Souls leave their Bodies in the Agony of their dissolution. Something they would both of them have said, but such was their surprising grief, that their Passion found no vent. Tears, and Embraces were the last, and only Rhetorical Expressions of their cross Love.  
Lisander when he divided himself, and went one half for the Spanish Netherlands, was about Twenty years old.  
His complexion was not quite so clear as that of a woman's, but the Features, and Lineaments of his face were pleasing, and Majestic to Admiration. Nature was so kind to him, that he neither wanted, nor wore a Periwig, for (as if she had fore-seen his Military design) She had given him a lovely head of brown Hair, curled all in such rings, as the Ladies of the last Generation called Heart-breakers. He was something taller than the ordinary sort of men, and so delicately well limbed, and shaped to his height, that you would have thought Nature had intended him only for a Pattern. His very Mien, and Presence had always something in them of Noble, and if ever he had denied his blood, would have been sure to have given him the lie. But which made every body wonder) he had a particular way of wearing his Clothes, though neither he, nor any body else knew where the secret lay; for whatever Suit he had on, became him a great deal better than richer Clothes did another man. He had already passed five years in one of the Inns of Court, where you may be sure he had learned to know which Pocket his money was in, and how many two and two are, without a Conjurer. His Natural Abilities (without which 'tis impossible to be excellent in any thing) were such, as drew every body's eyes upon him, whatever he did or said. He was of a strong, and piercing Judgement, a ready Wit, a most undaunted Constancy and Resolution, an indefatigable Diligence, and of a wonderful quick Dispatch. In a word, take him altogether, he was a man of a most becoming and Gentile Address, and all his Actions were accompanied with a certain fatal agreeableness, for which we have no name. Only his Disposition was a little too susceptible of that sweet Poison, that gentle Torment, that desirable Evil, and almost inseparable Plague of a great Mind, Love, which would now and then be a little too busy in his Management, often stealing some Minutes from a serious hour, and spoiling a good night's rest after a hard days labour.  
Heaven, and the Sea were loath to crush so brave a Spirit in the setting forth, and so he arrived at Dunkirk (once an English Garrison) in one Afternoon, where the next Morning he took leave of the Master of the Vessel, and with his Horse, and a hundred Broad-pieces, which was all his Stock, set forward towards Brussels, (where the General of the Spanish Forces was at that time) to lay the foundation of his Fortune of War.  
His arrival at the outguards before the Gates of the City, did him the Office of a Court Address, and without any of those preliminary Solemnities, which are ordinarily made use of to introduce men into the presence of a Prince, the custom of bringing Strangers to be examined whence they come, and what their business is, was his safe Conduct to the General. It happened, that the King of England's Resident at the Court was at that time attending the General about some business of his Masters, and so very opportunely served for Interpreter between the General and Lisander. It is strange to observe what a gentle influence Beauty has upon all men's affections, and how insensibly it makes itself 〈…〉 our wills, for no sooner had Lisander told him his inclinations, but the General was overjoyed to see a Gentleman of his Breeding, and appearance come to offer his Service in the War. And being well assured of his Parts and understanding, by the pertinence and good manage of his Address, received him with greater Demonstrations of Courtesy, and more Affability than the manner of that grave Nation, and the height of their Spirits does ordinarily vouchsafe. And as he was about to Consult with the Resident, which way, or what Method he should use to serve this Young Gentleman in his pretensions, (seeing he had never born Arms) A Spanish Maestro di Campo, or Colonel of the Army, that was just come from Gant, where his Regiment lay, and had heard all the Discourse, told his Excellence (not without some Passion) that there was an Alfier, or Ensigns Commission in his Regiment to dispose of, and if the Gentleman (in regard it was a proper and an honourable Office for a person of Quality to learn the Trade of War in) pleased to accept it, and his Excellence would give leave, he would think himself extremely honoured, and promised that he would take a most particular Charge of him, as if he were his own Son; such a mighty impression and prevalence had the very Presence, and Address of Lisander.  
The motion was very acceptable on all sides, only the General told Lisander, he was almost ashamed to make him so little an offer, but if he pleased to content himself till he was acquainted with the Spanish Tongue, and the Discipline of War, he doubted not but to find means to do something for him which might deserve his acceptance. Lisander made him a handsome and grave return of his Compliment, and told him that he was too sensible of his own want of merit, not to understand the honour he was pleased to do him, and that he would study to avoid the imputation of an ingrate, more than he would the preservation of his Life. That very night he accompanied his Colonel towards Gant, who was almost ecstasied with his good Fortune, and verily believed his good Angel had taken care to Conduct him into the General's presence in that lucky Conjuncture.  
Four whole years did Lisander serve in that Regiment, in which time (young as he was) he made a shift (almost without emulation) to run through all the Charges, and Offices from an Ensign, to a Lieutenant Colonel. And acquitted himself in them all with so much Integrity, Conduct, and Gallantry, that the whole Army was full of his name, and nothing troubled them so much, as that our Hero had not been born a Spaniard.  
When they lay in Winter-quarters, Lisander (who as I told you was Amorous enough, and the fittest man alive to be so) to divert the trouble which he conceived for the absence of his dear Mistress, did ordinarily pass a good part of his spare hours with the Ladies of the best Character, and Quality in the Town, and was every where so welcome, and his Company so much desired, that oftentimes it bred such little heats, and Animosities amongst them, as without doubt had been more public, and made more noise in the world, but for fear of doing violence to their Modesty. And by this means he never wanted the choicest Laces and Linen which the Country (famous for those Commodities) could afford, or any thing else (in reason) which the Ladies had to dispose of.  
And when Summer came, that the Army was to March into the Field, it would e'en have grieved any body's heart to see with what a Catholic sorrow (as if the Sun had gone the wrong way) they received the kill news of his departure. And which yet extremely aggravated the disaster, their Discretion durst not complain, or show their grievance in Public, though among Confidents, and in several little Cabals, his name was the ordinary Entertainment, both of Song, and Drink, and Company.  
And as often as any fair opportunity, and safe conveyance offered itself, it was ten to one he had some of their Billets douces and sure 'tis more than pity they are so many of them lost. I will only give you one in passing sent him by a Germane Lady (as you will see) upon some March or other, which I have accidentally recovered out of the merciless jaws of time, as well to testify my obligations to, as assert the honour of the Nation, and to convince you they were only French men that made Parlour comme un Alemàn to signify, to speak like a Fool. The lines are in effect these.  

SInce Fate Commands and we must part,  
Farewell thou Conqueror of my heart,  
Farewell the Kindest Englishman  
That ever crosed the Ocean;  
Farewell that Face, that hath betrayed  
The Honour of a Germane Maid;  
Yet were't to do again, I know  
I had no power to say thee no.   

I tremble still at those Alarms  
That shook my Lover from my Arms,  
A Maiden's Curses be his doom  
That first invented Fife and Drum,  
Cursed be his Name, who ere begun  
This Quarrelling with Pike and Gun;  
Methinks a Trial at the Bar  
Were easier than this Trade of War.   

Cruel Bellona, now I guess  
Thou envied'st my happiness;  
The Gentle Youth thy Breast did move,  
And thou wast fallen thyself in Love:  
O use him well, and with thy Shield  
Protect his Person in the Field,  
For know dear Goddess if he fall  
The selfsame Wound kills me and all.   

What pity 'twere that Crimson juice  
Should only Plants and Flowers produce,  
Whose every drop might get a Line  
Of Nobler worthies than the Nine.  
How full of fear is Love! and yet  
If Beauty, Honour, Valour, Wit,  
Can save a man from Destiny,  
And brave the Fates, I'm sure 'tis he.   

Then let your Death-charged Engines fly,  
Let Ball, and Thunder fill the sky  
Let Rivers swell with showers of blood,  
The Earth grow drunk with th' purple flood,  
The God of War shall Guard his Son,  
Till these unfriendly days are done,  
And then we'll Sacrifice one Kiss  
To Venus' Health, and one to His.   

Till then may Victory and Fate  
Conspire to make you Fortunate,  
And may bright Honour ever rest  
As in her Centre on your Crest,  
Nor shall a brazen Statue be  
Enough to tell Posterity  
Your Worth: a softer way shall raise  
A living Image to your praise.   
(like a man that wanted Lodging) from one house to another, as long as people were up, and then from one Guard to another, till day appeared, which drove him to his Quarters, lest the world should have taken notice of his disorder. He used all the means he thought safe, or proper, to inform himself who this Beauty might be, but all proved ineffectual. And now he began to repent he had not exchanged his Office, with the Spanish Lieutenant Colonel, that so he might have had time to find his new Mistress, and with his own diligence make himself amends for the rigour of his hard Fate. Restless, and full of thought as he was, he risen from his bed before he had well warmed it, changed his Clothes, and (under colour of taking leave) visited most of the Ladies in the Town, to see if he might find her in any of their Companies. But he bestowed all his labour in vain, and only wearied himself against his March, which was to begin the same Afternoon. About two of the Clock the Drums beat, and the Regiment drew up in the Marketplace. At length came the Lieutenant-Colonel attended with the Magistrates, and Gentry of the Town, to take a solemn leave. His trouble was such that it might easily be read in his very looks. And every body knowing he was a man of such Spirit, and Resolution, could not but wonder, that so small a matter, as changing the Country (which was his own Election besides) should affect him so much, without ever hitting, or so much as suspecting the true cause of his Discomposure. Sorry they were (though they loved no Soldiers) to part with Lisander, his temper had so little in it of the Spanish Insolence (though he had served long enough among them to have learned it,) and therefore to testify their respects they waited on him about a League out of Town, and then with a whole Volley of warm Prayers committed him to the Conduct, and favour of his good Fortune. He was glad they were gone. For, though their company would otherwise have been most grateful, and pleasing, yet as his heart beat at that time, the compliment was unnecessary, and the honour was troublesome. Solitude had been a fit Companion, and the shade of some ancient Wood or the bank of some considering Stream would better have suited the violence of his Grief, than a matter of Twenty starched Aldermen with Spanish-leather Boots, and Holland-boot-hose-tops, with every one a mouthful of Wind, and an old Beaver full of Smoak. In vain did his Officers strive to shorten the day with a Bottle, or a Song, or a Story, or any new Amours they met with in the March. He was never so much at his ease, as when he was alone, and could complain without being overheard. Many a time when he was a convenient space either before, or behind the Regiment, he would begin thus with himself. The Gods have seen, and revenged thy wrongs, and my Cruelty (My dear Sabina, the first, and only constant Mistress of my Vows, and Wishes,) making all those Wounds, which were given me by thy first Beauty, pain me, and bleed again by the guilty touch of this last. With what assurance, what Rhetoric, or excuses can I ever think of returning to thee, after the Errors, and voluntary Absence of four whole years?  
And, as if I had yet a mind in some measure to proportion the distance of place, to the length of time, I am now running two Kingdoms further from thee. Forgive me dear Sabina, this acknowledgement is but counterfeit, and I do but flatter both thee, and myself with a repentance which in spite of my resolution is but false and superficial. My Vows, my Virtue, my Faith, my Constancy, have all forsaken me. And (though Fate in pity to thee have removed the Object) yet have I no truce with my Passion. The Beauty of her Person, the Sharpness of her Wit, her becoming her Address, like so many Familiar Spirits have taken possession of my breast, and haunt my imagination day and night. But above all her Courtesy which (if one might interpet ambiguities to advantage) I should call Love, has pierced my very Soul, and has in it, such Charms as sure a colder constitution, and a severer virtue, than that of mine could never have been able to resist. Once indeed I thought I dreamed, I talked of nothing but Sabina; and vainly resolved in spite of all the little stops, and lets I might meet with in the way, to carry the respect I had for her, pure, and undivided to my Grave.  
But length of time (I see) and absence (which is my own sin) has almost obliterated those old Ideas. 'Tis this Stranger, this new Face, (which I, alas! must never, never see again) which has given me my mortal Wound. And yet I am resolved, that as soon as I have delivered the Regiment at Barcelona, and obtained my Discharge, I will, I must return to Flanders in quest of that Face, whose Smiles, and Frowns determine the issues of my life and death.  
These and such like were the pastimes of his Solitude. For as all other Melancholy in its deepest, and most retired speculations is not without some mixture of pleasure, and satisfaction; so especially in Love, the contemplation, and remembrance of a Beauty we have loved, (though unsuccessfully) fills, and extends the heart with warm blood, and fresh spirits even in Despair itself. And this was the only consolation, which never quitted the perplexed Lisander in all his march to Barcelona.  
The Colonel and Clarinda made several little stops in their Journey through France, but the Lovesick Lady found nothing there, that pleased her. Now and then she met with some Amorous Addresses, and those from Persons very considerable too, but they only served to fan, and blow the Fire which Lisander had kindled in her bosom, and which had now seized upon her very bones, and marrow. Every new City furnished her with new Admirers, but their Applications always recoiled into their own bosoms, and did them most mischief at the rebound. Clarinda stood like a Rock in vain importuned by the Waves, all the effect their fine speeches had with her, was only to teach her how to set a just value upon herself. Seven days after the Colonel's arrival at Barcelona, came Lisander with the weary Regiment.  
He was welcome to the Colonel as an Angel, and he deserved to be so indeed, not only for his former good Service, but for his ready compliance with him to leave Flanders, and the great discretion and diligence he had used in the March. The day that the Regiment arrived, the Lieutenant-Colonel, and some other of the Officers, dined with the Colonel, when after Dinner drinking a Glass of Wine (rather like Soldiers than Spaniards) Lisander (as if his good Angel had whispered him something in his Ear) was observed to be gayer, and liker himself than he had been all the March. Clarinda, according to the Ceremony of Spain, was not seen among the Gentlemen at Dinner, but eat in her own Chamber, where the Servants were so lavish in representing Lisander's Accomplishments, that the talk cast her into a deep sit of Melancholy, with bringing to her mind the Image of that man whom she could never forget. When the Company parted Lisander was invited to lodge there till he was provided of convenient Quarters; and you may easily believe that when he accepted the motion, Venus and her Son smiled at the Omen.  
Lisander had heard of Clarinda in Flanders, and understood that she was now at home with her Father, but little did he think, that she was the Lady, that had cost him all the quiet, and content he had in the World, for these last two months. However to do his breeding right, he resolved to Court the first opportunity, to bear up to her, and make her a Reverence. The next morning at a good hour (as if the Destinies had now repent of their anger, and were resolved to make our Lover's satisfaction for their past sufferings) Clarinda went to walk in the Garden, where Lisander, as he was dressing himself in his Chamber, was quickly ware of her. At another time he had needed no other admonisher to dispatch, and make himself ready for the encounter, than the warmth of his own temper, and inclination, though now, the last impression his heart had received, made him use the occasion with a great deal of indifference. As soon as ever Lisander entered the Garden, (says the Governante, who was waiting on Clarinda) Here's the Lieutenant-Colonel, (for she had seen him, and described him to the young Lady (as I was saying) the day before,) and as modesty and good manners obliged them, they walked softly into a by-Walk, as it had been on purpose to avoid him, for it was early, and the Lady was in her morning Dress. Lisander thought it no point of his civility to go directly the next way up to them, (as if he had had no other design in the Garden) but intended to drop on them, as it were by chance, and so he began to round them, as one would do a Covey of Partridge. He was just come so near, that Clarinda knew him to be the same Gentleman, she had seen at the Play at Brussels, though, by the favour of her morning Dress, he knew not her. And just as he pulled off his Hat, and said, Good morrow fair Ladies, the Colonel who had been taking the Fresco, steps forth of an Arbour at the end of the Walk, and saluted him, they two fell immediately into Discourse, which gave Clarinda a fair occasion to march off, without making him any answer, but a Courtesy. She was certainly much beholding to her morning , and more to the seasonable interruption of her Father, for the prevention of that surprise and disorder which must needs have attended the discovery on both sides, and infallibly have given the Governante who was well acquainted with the vanities of this wicked World) just occasion to suspect, even more than the very truth. As they walked off, the Governante asked Clarinda, What think you now of my judgement? Is it not as I told you? Is not the Lieutenant-Colonel a very fine man? Has he not a brave Port? And twenty other little Questions of the same sort, to which when she observed Clarinda made no answer, and seemed not to mind her: She went on laughing, I warrant your heart has taken wing already, and you are in love with him at first sight. Truly (says Clarinda) if one may be forgiven for falling in love with any man at first sight, this is he; for I think him the handsomest, and goodliest person of a man, that ever I saw in my life. You have reason, (says the Governante) and I must confess, that such sights to a young Lady in a morning next her heart, are oftentimes of very dangerous consequence. What dangerous consequence do you mean (says Clarinda)? As long as Ladies confine themselves within the Laws, and Obligations of their Sex, what danger can there be in an Honourable Love? The Governante presently fancied (and well she might) that Lisander's presence had a little moved the young Lady, but she never so much as dreamed of any former Acquaintance. For though she had been with her in Flanders, yet the night, that the young Lovers encountered one another at the Play, she was not with them, for she was busy putting things in readiness for the Journey. Though since their Arrival at Barcelona, (being well assured of the Governant's discretion, and finding some kind of ease in the bare Relation of her Love) Clarinda had told her the whole Story. When they were come into her Chamber, she bade the Governant shut the Door, and calling her to her, to the Bed side, with her face, as full of passion, and transport as her heart could hold, Dear Leonora, (says she) This is the Gentleman. And with that, a sudden shower of Tears, and an impetuous Storm of Sighs made her senses retire for shelter, and threw her tender Body pale, and breathless on the Bed, where there was neither help, nor company (the more the pity) but the frighted Leonora. She ran presently, and called two or three of the Maids, and by that time Clarinda was come to herself again. This was rather the transport, and excess of joy, than any thing else, for now the day began to break up, and she began to conceive fair hopes of that love which the Stars seemed to favour, as if they had moved by her direction. And therefore, as soon as she had taken a little Cordial Water, and the Maids were sent away, she began, and told her discreet Confident the Brussels Story (with all the circumstances she thought necessary to the management of the present business) over again. And now the matter is brought upon the Carpet, and a Consult is held, what is to be done, or what Measures are to be taken in their Proceed.  
The first thing they agreed on, was to pass an irrevocable sentence against rashness, and precipitancy in the case: And so they resolved, because (now there were no other Strangers, besides the Lieutenant-Colonel, who lodged there) she would be expected at Dinner, her indisposition should excuse her for that day. This was done on purpose that Lisander should not see her at unawares, but that they might have time enough to consider, what methods they should make use of for an Interview, lest the surprise might give the World some untoward apprehensions. All that day was wasted in uncertain Counsels, and nothing particular was determined, but that Clarinda should make use of the first proper opportunity to make herself known to him, and (since she was now in Spain, and thought she had him fast enough) it was resolved, she should treat him with more modesty, and greater reservation, than the first Encounter had promised, which (that she might stand fair in his opinion) was to be pretended only jest, and raillery.  
The Colonel, and Lisander in the Garden, discoursed the whole story of the March, wherein Lisander was observed to deliver himself all along with so much coldness, and indifference, that being modestly urged, he told the Colonel plainly, that he repent the Expedition, and had a design to pretend his Ben' Servito, or Discharge of his Majesty, and so return.  
The Colonel (as much as he could without entering into his secrets) endeavoured to dissuade him, striving to possess him with good thoughts of the Country, and laying before him the fair prospect he had of raising his Fortunes in Spain, whereas the Netherlands wanted that choice, and variety of great Employments either in Peace, or War. In short the Colonel laid before him so many reasons of weight, interwoven with such tokens of his good will, and so much passion for his conversation, that, before they parted, Lisander (though he was well enough resolved within himself) in complaisance to the Colonel (because he saw what trouble it gave him) was fain to tell him, he would consider of it. The Colonel had more than a hundred times in Flanders, and on his Journey too, thought of a Match betwixt the Lieutenant-Colonel, and his Daughter: And to say the truth, almost as oft as he looked upon her in the Coach, within himself, he could e'en have wished her fairly in Lisander's Arms. And now finding his inclination to return for Flanders, (though he thought it inconsistent with his gravity to be seen in it) yet he resolved to show him the fair Clarinda at the best advantage, and try whether flesh and blood (which were as warm in Lisander, as in another) could resist the powerful charms of her Youth, and Beauty.  
The next morning going to see his Daughter at her Chamber, and finding her pretty cheerful and hearty, he bid her dress herself that day, and come to Dinner. She did so, and about an hour before Noon, either to get her an appetite, or to give Lisander time and place to accost her before Dinner, she walked out into the Garden. As if every thing had conspired to further her design, it happened to be Post-day, and so the Colonel having some Dispatches to make, kept his Closet the most part of the forenoon. Lisander having the opportunity in his hands, went to congratulate the young Lady's Recovery, and give her the rest of that Address, which the Colonel had interrupted in the beginning. As he came up to her, Clarinda (who was alone) was stooping down, and either gathering, or pretended to be gathering Flowers, with her back towards him. Madam (says Lisander when he was come within four or five paces of her) I am glad to— whereupon Clarinda turning her head about, and looking on him, he could go no farther, but stood like one of the Statues in the Garden, that had stepped from the Pedestal. He knew her (such an impression her face had made in his soul) as well as if he had never left her company, since the first time he had seen her, and was so thunderstruck with the surprise, that except she had pitied his disorder, and asked him how he did, he had certainly remained longer in the Ecstasy. As soon as he came a little to himself, he offered to kiss her hand, but she, who had already resolved to make him believe, she did but railly him at the Play, drew back, and denied it, telling him with a smile, that the customs of Spain and Flanders were different. Though the Countries be different, (Madam says he) I hope your goodness is still the same, and that your Ladyship cannot differ from yourself. No otherwise Sir (says she) than what jest, and earnest make the same Person differ. I remember I saw you at a Play at Brussels, and had a mind to make myself merry with you, but, if that liberty of jest shall any ways influence your Addresses here in Spain, you must not take it ill, if you see me very seldom. Alas! (Madam says he) how disproportionate is it to the tenderness of your Sex, to make yourself sport at the expense of another's ruin. For that jesting (if you call it so) has undone me. And if your jest have such power, and charms in it, what mortal strength can resist, or human force oppose itself to your earnest. The wound which that fatal Edge-tool gave me at that time, had certainly killed me before this, but that Fortune (I see) has kept me alive to make herself sport. Sir (says she smiling) I think she has chosen a proper person for the Province, for you do it to a miracle, and 'tis pity, but we were in some such place, as we first met, that the happy Company might partake with us, and I not blush with laughing at you thus alone. And that's my grief, (Madam says he) but when I have told you, with a Soldier's freedom, that I love you, that I have done so ever since I first saw you, and that I cannot choose but do so, as long as I live, laugh on in the name of Merriment, and know that my Passion is not the less serious for your turning it into Ridicule. These last words she thought were a little Choleric, and Savoured of the Soldier, and therefore to let him see he had met with his match: Pray Sir (says she, blushing to think how she played the Hypocrite) if you have any kindness for me, let me never hear one word more of it. You cannot choose but think, that at the Play, I had been told your Character, and who you were, and I hope you had wit enough to understand the Irony: But if you are not convinced of your folly with a jest, yet pray be so, when I have told you, you are to blame in good earnest, and so fare-ye-well. With that she mended her pace, and walked very fast towards the house, and he to keep himself in countenance (if any body should by chance have seen them) marched along with her, crying all the way (like an importunate Beggar) Nay dear Madam, Sweet Madam, I beseech you Madam, But one word Madam: What's that Sir (says she?) That you would forgive (says he) what's past, and take no advantage of Poor Lisander's weakness. It is your future behaviour (says she) that must obtain your pardon, and your better Conduct in time to come, that must Apologise for your past weakness. Just as they came into the Hall, the Colonel (who was coming down to Dinner) met them, and so she left them two together, and ran to her Chamber to tell the Governante the success of the Encounter, and how she had much ado to contain herself, and forbear laughing in his face, to see him run along with her, like a Lackey, Dear Madam, sweet Madam, and so on.  
The Discourse at Table was divided between the Colonel, and Lisander. The young Lady (which would have seemed a little strange to one that had heard her in the Garden, and were not well acquainted with the Customs of the Country) only filled a mute place, and gave a negligent Audience. Lisander was that day a little more Airy than he had been since his Arrival, and the Colonel was well enough pleased to imagine, he was a little influenced by the Conversation of his Daughter. And resolved from that very moment, to give her more Liberty, than the Conduct of that wary Nation would allow, rather than Lisander should want any honourable occasion of cherishing the tender Sentiments he might begin to have for the Beautiful Clarinda.  
That evening our Amoroso took a walk all alone about the Town-walls, where his Encounter in the Garden with all its Circumstances (as far as his confusion gave him leave to remember) came fresh into his thoughts. Clarinda he knew had the better of it, and yet he found himself well enough satisfied for the Defeat, with the unexpected retrieve of the Lady, whose loss had almost made him desperate. He was not used to be nonsuited in Addresses of that kind, which made him bear this with a great deal the more impatience. And (though he had Conduct enough to dissemble it in Public) her Spanish virtue, and severity did but serve to Fan the fire, and make his Passion grow the more impetuous, and unruly.  
It was never so troublesome to him, as when he was alone, and yet (which is none of the least Plagues of an unfortunate Lover) he always studied to avoid Company. This desire of Solitude, and some little indisposition which his Melancholy had procured, kept him two, or three days in his Chamber, where 'tis impossible any man should tell you how he passed his time, or what he endured, but he, that has rowed in the same Galley.  
Sometimes he would lay the fault upon his own bad manage, sometimes upon the iron Manners of the Country, sometimes upon his own easy inclinations, sometimes upon the case-hardened temper of the young Lady, and by and by lost, and confounded with the trouble, (like other miserable men) he would cry out, and complain of (I know not what) Stars, and Influences, and Conjunctions, and Aspects, which (I dare say) knew no more of the matter, than the Man in the Moon. Sometimes he fancied he had let slip the Fatal moment, the Critical minute in Flanders, and that now it was irrecoverable, and yet when he called to mind her present rigour, and severity, his reason told him, that that liberty was only sport, and Burlesque. And when he was once about to flatter himself with her sudden indisposition after she had seen him the first time in the Garden, being told upon enquiry, she had had more of those fits, and remembering how coldly, and unconcernedly she had entertained him upon the Discovery, all those thoughts abandoned, and left him full of suspense and irresolution. While he kept his Chamber, Clarinda (for more reasons than he knew) sent the Governante to make him several Visits, though the only way to cure him had been to have come herself. Once as she had delivered her Lady's Compliment (which was brisk, and Gentile enough) he told her smiling, that he found so much ease, and benefit in every-one of these welcome Messages, that he did really believe, that if her Lady were pleased to make a Truce with the Spanish Ceremonies, and make him one Visit herself, her presence would work a Miracle, and set him on his feet again in spite of his Distemper. As soon as Clarinda had received this pleasant Address from her Patient, she (who had no mind he should be lost for want of so small a Favour) went presently to his Chamber, and with a look full of freedom, and Gallantry told him, that since he had desired it, she was come to be his Physician. Madam (says he,) if you have but brought the will of healing along with you, I shall never doubt the cure. Indeed Sir (says she,) but I shall: For I myself know, that I want one of those two main things, which make a Physician complete, That is Skill, and you suppose me to want the other, which is Honesty, and it may be you want that necessary qualification of a hopeful Patiented Faith, so that, methinks, we have a great deal of reason to distrust the success. By your pardon, Madam (says he,) I can see none at all. For if it be true (which they say,) that every observing man (though no professed Physician) knows readily what ails him, where his Grief lies, and what will do him good, then am I confident of your Ladyship's Ability in my case, And then for my Faith, I am afraid I shall carry, but too much of it, to my very Grave. But now, if you should (like some of the Faculty, Pardon the Comparison) keep a body in hand, and retard the Cure, either for the advance of some secret Interest, or the trial of some curious Experiment, I know not whether I should have more cause to complain of you, for the Cure, or the Wound. So Sir (says she) now it's out. Still the old Song, Flames, and Fires, and Darts, and Arrows: If you have nothing else to say I must leave you, lest instead of my curing you, you should infect me, and so, Adieu. With that she stepped to the door, and without any parting Solemnity, left the Distressed Lisander studying a Rejoinder. This haughty Carriage of hers brought him a little to himself. For now he began to consider, that 'tis the Adorer makes the Lady a Deity, that a pitiful crouching, and submission, only serves to make the Ambitious insolent, and where it does not meet with a true Generosity, (such as is almost inconsistent with the weakness of a woman) does but expose the devout to the greater Rigour, and Contempt. These, and some other thoughts of the same kind, put the Cane into his hand and led him, as it were in spite of Nature, and his indisposition to take a turn in the Garden. Where he no sooner set his eyes on that Fatal turf, where he discovered his dear Clarinda, but the very imagination of her Person, her Wit, and her Address, called him Traitor to his face, and made all this mighty Resolution vanish in an Amorous thought.  
He found something within him that rebelled against his reason, and easily softened, and overcame his most manly, and best advised determinations. His Soul was (on the sudden) once again all Love, and Ecstasy, and something he resolved to do in the prosecution of it, though he knew not what. And though the Enterprise every way showed itself very difficult, yet the greatness of his Spirit, which could not be baffled with Trifles, and the violence of his Love which was deaf to all denials, prompted him to go on and prosper, or at worst to fall and die bravely. He kept his Chamber no longer, though for several days Clarinda gave him no occasion to see her but at the Table, where he could say nothing to her, but what the Colonel might hear. Though indeed all this aversion was but deep Hopocrisie, for she was affected (what pity it was he had not known it) with every word he spoke, and every breath he drew, and what ever the subject was, he always discoursed so well, and so pertinently that every sentence was his Advocate, and made an impression in her very heart.  
The first thing he resolved on was to dispossess that unfamiliar Spirit of strangeness, which she hugged so close, and made so much of, as well to assure herself of the Constancy, and Sincerity of his Love, as to convince him of the Candour, and integrity of her own Honour. The fittest means, he could think of to this purpose, was an Intrigue with the Governante, whom he met almost every day in the Garden. For I must acquaint you by the way, that Clarinda had hired her with a new Gown, and Petticoat, only to appear now and then where he was, in hopes of receiving some dear Compliment, or other from him, though but at second hand. The Governante, that very well knew both their minds, chanced to be one day in the Garden, where Lisander, after a little sweetening Discourse for a Preface, and her Confidence bought, and paid for with five double Pistols, acquaints her with his Love to Clarinda, and his earnest desire of some proper juncture to wait upon her alone.  
She seemed to be in a little Disorder at the first hearing of that, (which indeed was no News to her) but the Almighty Gold soon composed her Spirit, and made her promise him her utmost assistance in any honourable Design, though she were sure to incur the eternal displeasure of her Lady. Of such sovereign use, and virtue is this Omnipotent Ore in the closing of all breaches, and healing all differences between the two Blind Deities of Love, and Fortune. Hereupon Clarinda resolves, the next day after Dinner, to walk about half a League out of the City to a Countryhouse of her Fathers, and the Governante privately acquaints Lisander with it in the morning (who had been there two or three times with the Colonel. As soon as Dinner was done, he takes a birding Gun in his hand, and about half a mile from the Town (as if it had been by mere accident) he encounters Clarinda, and the Governante walking toward the Countryhouse. They were both veiled as the Spanish Custom is; and though Clarinda passed by him without showing herself, yet the Governante (whom that office better became) uncovered her face, and Saluted him, which obliged Clarinda in Civility (since they were known) to do so too. He offered her his Attendance in the Walk, and that in such a powerful form of words, that a Lady (less inclinable than she) could scarce have refused him without the imputation of Discourteous, and in fine was accepted for their Salva Guardia. The Governante presently put herself (as Gold, and good Clothes, and good Manners obliged her) into the Vanguard, and gave our Lovers all the occasion of Dialogue they could wish.  
Lisander who had suffered enough for one, and now was jealous of losing another Opportunity, began to tell the Lady that he believed Fortune both without his knowledge, and merit, had done him this Honour to make him satisfaction for all the Torments he had endured for her sake. If Fortune have made you satisfaction (says she) then have you nothing to pretend of me. And except you have a mind to make me bad Company, and yourself troublesome, Pray let me hear no more of this whining, puling-Love, that makes a man look like one of those Hero's, that is just come from killing of a Giant, to lay himself down and die, for the frown of a Mistress. For this will never take among people that know the World, and what it is to live, I'll assure you. Why then Madam (says he) let me tell you once again in the Rhetoric of a Man of War, I am in Love. And in haste too (says she) methinks, But pray take me along with you, and tell me, whereupon is this Love of yours (that you talk so much of) grounded? What do you see in this Face, that should make you think me such a Fool, as to believe you can have any real affection for one that has so little Merit, and is so much a Stranger to you? Madam (says he) the subject of your Merit is a very large field, and the prospect is very fair; but because it wants not my Praises, and because every man else might as well pretend he Loves you for the same Cause, I will pass it by only in a silent Admiration. But when you ask me how I can Love a Stranger, there you do but beg the Question, and command Reason from him, that for your sake has entirely lost it. A very fair Confession, Sir, upon my word, (says she.) And can you think, that a Young Lady so Fair, as you say, and of such expectation as others say I am, should ever be persuaded to throw herself away upon one that plainly Confesses he has lost his Reason? And then to say you lost it for my sake is an Argument in the same mood, and figure with his, that, because he had been Trappaned for a wound he received in his Majesty's Service, pretended to be made one of his Privy Council, or another's, who having lost his Leg in a Sea-fight against the Turk, came to Madrid hopping, and hoping to be made one of the King's Footmen. This will never do your business, Sir, and till you have more Reason, let me entreat you to trouble me with none at all. Lisander was almost Mad (and it would have made any body so) that a man, that wore a Sword, should be run down, at this rate, with a Distaff. And (stareing her full in the Face) Madam (says he with some little heat) you may as well Command me not to breathe, or bid my Pulse stand still, as hinder me from Loving, where I see I must needs repent, though (alas!) too late. A certain Demonstration I have yet Reason enough left me to see I am miserable. Thus dull, and insipid were the poor Lisander's applications, and he was never in his life known to have so little Wit, as now, when he stood most in need of it. As it often happens to men of good sense, that, when they have a mind to speak best, and deliver their minds in the most proper, and apposite words, have many times enough to do, to keep themselves clear of Nonsense, and Solaecism. Clarinda knew well enough, it was the trouble of his mind that made his Wit run so muddy, for she had often heard him play the Orator, and speak fluently on a dry Subject. At last his Passion quite stopped his Mouth, she had the field to herself, and now she talked without an Answer. It had certainly been a very pleasant Entertainment to see the Ingenious Lieutenant Colonel March on, like one of Pythagoras' Undergraduates, all Ears, and no Mouth, and the Lady all the while Philosophising to him. Sir (says she) (for she never designed he should despair) if you be not happy it is your own fault. A wise man has more influence upon his own Fortune and content, than all the Constellations of the Firmament, as well those that have beards as those that have none. For where he cannot form his Fortune to his mind, he forms his mind to his Fortune. Thus Happiness has oftentimes its foundation in the Opinion, or Desire, so that Desire without hopes becomes a Disease, To desire, or take a fancy for what we cannot obtain, is to lay Snares for ourselves, and to be Authors of our own misery. When she had finished this Harangue, says Lisander, like a man that's going to take leave of the World before his time; Let every body take warning by my Example, and may Heaven, and good Fortune defend all honest Gentlemen from those Ladies, that have been bred in Cloisters. With this, and such like Discourse, they passed the time, till they came to the Countryhouse, where they had a neat Collation, and a glass of Wine in Ice, and so home again. All the way homewards Lisander's Love was the Lady's Game. It was well for him that Jeers do not go through ones Clothes, otherwise he had (at that time) received more Wounds, than Julius Caesar in the Senate. I will not undertake to tell you how he found himself all this while, I refer you to those Gentlemen, that have smarted under the same lash. When they were within half a mile of the City, comes a Gentleman (as if he had been sent from Heaven for Lisander's Deliverance) in his Boots, and Riding-dress, and presents him a Paper. Which when he had opened proved a Commission from the King for him to go to Sea. Now it is the Custom of Spain, for some three Months every Summer, to send five, or six Galleys, to scour the Coasts, and secure the Kingdoms of Naples, and Sicily, and the Places thereabout, from the Corsairs, or Turkish Pirates. It was for this Service that four Companies were Ordered to be drawn out of that Regiment, and the Lieutenant Colonel to Command them. Lisander (whose will never disputed with the King's Service) was well enough satisfied with the Honour, though it may be, another, that had Loved, as he did, would have received the Message with some surprise. He was glad to be delivered a while from Clarinda's Tyranny, and he hoped that two, or three months' absence (which has a wonderful Ascendant over young Lovers) might favour both his Love, and Fortune. As soon as they heard Lisander, and the Gentleman discoursing the Affair, Clarinda turned herself round about upon the Governante, and looked like Death. The Governante who was afraid she should have fallen down, immediately whispered in her Ear, that she was sure it was a Design, and a Trick only to discover her Inclinations. This Invention of the Governante's was very sudden, and seasonable; for had she scratched her head for it never so little, her Lady had miscarried, and the Secret had taken Air. But, as soon as she heard this, she presently recovered the trouble, without the least notice, the Discourse was so earnest between Lisander, and the Gentleman. As soon as they came into the House, the Governante hastened Clarinda to her Chamber, for fear she should have met the News again, before she came there. As soon as ever they were alone, and the door shut, Dear Madam (says the Governante) be not supprised, but the News is most true, that the Lieutenant Colonel is to go to Sea, but I persuaded you in the field, it was not so, for fear you should have discovered your weakness, and he have gone away with the Triumph. The Roses of Clarinda's cheeks crept into their Beds, and all the time of the Governante's Relation, she stood still, and said nothing; but as soon as the Governante had done, she fell a crying, and taking on, like a Woman that had Buried her only Son. Had not the Governante held her, she would have run directly to find her Lisander, so furious was her Love, notwithstanding all her Coy pretences, and dissimulation.  
The Governante used all the Arguments, that the Affair in that conjuncture would admit, and all little enough too, to keep her from betraying the violence of her Love, by ways most monstrous and ridiculous. At last (when Clarinda could hear) and the Governante came to tell her, that it was but for two or three months, she was a little better composed, and begged the Governante to help her to Bed. That night the Governante went to Lisander (who was to go about his Commission very early next morning) in her Lady's name, to wish him a good Voyage, and a safe Return; and told him she was weary with the walk, and in Bed, or she would have waited upon him herself. This was all to dissemble Clarinda's disorder, and keep it secret between them two. All that night she never laid her eyes together. She risen more than twenty times, to look for that sorrowful day, which she feared might be the last she was ever to see her beloved Lisander. At length the day broke, and about Sunrising the Colonel, and Lisander were both before the Gate under Clarinda's Window taking leave. They embraced one another, and parted (as they were wont upon such occasions) like good Soldiers full of joy, and warm hopes. For Lisander was going on an Errand, which was like to bring him both Money and Honour, and for the Dangers he might meet with, he never thought of them before they came, nor talked of them when they were once passed. Clarinda was waiting in her Window, and though it did not become her to speak, yet she bowed herself, and sent him away with such passionate Wishes, as no heart, but one as warm as hers, can ever conceive.  
All the time of his absence she pleased herself with nothing, but thinking and speaking of Lisander. She, and the Governante would (I know not how many times a day) be calculating, how far he might be off, how long he had been absent, and when they might expect his Return. Sometimes they would be mustering up their pretty Remarks upon his Actions, as his Walking, his Speaking, his Saluting, his Laughing and his Frowning; and another while they would be talking of his Person, his Face, his Eyes, his Hair, his Waste, his Arms, his Hands, his Legs, his Feet, and what not. When they had spent something above two months in these little Entertainments, News came, that the King's Galleys were in sight of Barcelona, and homewards bound. They had taken more Prizes, and Prisoners that Summer, than they had in seven Summers before, in which Honour Lisander had the greatest share, besides a Dividend of fifty thousand pieces of Eight. That part of the Regiment, which stayed behind, was drawn down to the Shore, and received the Companies on board with three Volleys of Shot, who returned the Compliment with three more. And thence, as soon as they were landed, Lisander led them into the Town, which bade them welcomer than ever they had done any Soldiers in then lives, because they brought Money with them. There was, as much (and more) crowding to see Lisander, as if they had never seen him in their lives. And as he marched through the Streets, in the head of the Regiment, there was as many Windows open, as it had been at a Coronation. The Colonel was at that time at Madrid, and was to stay there five or six weeks to receive Instructions and Money for Recruiting his Regiment, which had suffered great loss in the Wars of Flanders. So that Lisander chose rather to provide himself Quarters in another House, than to give the World the least occasion to censure, either his Prudence, or the young Ladies Conduct in her Father's absence. Clarinda was more sensible of Lisander's Honour, and affected with his good Fortune, than he was himself; and therefore the Governante advised her to keep her Chamber, as well for fear of being abroad when he came to Visit, as for fear of discovering the Fire in her Heart, by the light of her Countenance. And yet it was resolved between them, either because they knew they had him fast, or to see how much a great Spirit could bear, she should show him but just the same Curtezy, and receive him with the very same Civility that she would do a mere Stranger. Alas, that any honest man's Quiet and Satisfaction should be determined by the false weights, and measures, by the Hypocrisy, and Dissimulation of a cruel, and ill-natured Woman!  
Every body that knocked at the Gate alarmed Clarinda with the same transport, and surprise, as if it had been Lisander himself, for, whoever knocked, she still fancied it was he. The next day, about two of the Clock, when he thought no body could either suspect, or observe his haste, he went to make his dear Clarinda a Visit. She had already resolved the manner of his Entertainment, which was this: She met, and received him in her Antichamber, suffered him to kiss her hand, and so led him into her Chamber. After she had discoursed him a while, she sat her down upon her Estrado, and left this Child of Fortune to Court her standing upon his feet, with his Hat under his Arm.  
After he had signified his sense of the Colonel's Absence, and then Comforted both her, and himself with the great necessity, and advantage of it, he began by gentle degrees, to make her new Tenders of his old Services. The Fame, and Success of his Voyage, and his fair reception inspired him with mighty hopes, that now his hand was in, he should carry his Mistress too. The torrent of his words was brisker, and more luxuriant, than it used to be, and one would have thought, he had reserved the choice Meditations of two whole Months, and more, for this very occasion. I need not tell you what effect his Rhetoric had upon Clarinda's Spirit, but certainly it was such, as no Lady in the world, but herself, could have dissembled. The moment of Lisander's happiness, and her yielding was not yet come, and therefore with three, or four Sentences, and as many grave Regards she Answered him, That she was very sensible he was a person every way complete, and handsome, and that his Character, and Employment had been always such, as might render any man considerable. That his late Naval Service had won him old Gold, and new Laurels, and for ever enroled his Name among the Favourites of Fame, and Fortune. That for these reasons, he would do well to think of some Amours, that might be more to his advantage, and if these considerations would not prevail with him to desist, she assured him, that besides the inequality of their Fortunes, she had already disposed of her Heart, and could not by any means think of altering her Resolutions. Lisander heard all this with the very same looks, that a Convicted Prisoner receives the Sentence of his Death. Little did he think where she had disposed her heart, nor would the Agony give him leave, so much as once to imagine, it might fall to his share. But as soon, as his cold fit was over, he told her suddenly, and with a heat little less than that of Anger, how ill she had requited all his past Services; and that if his Despair did not prove Mortal, he would hereafter study to take such measures, as might give neither of them so much trouble, or disquiet. Sir (says she) I do extremely applaud your Resolution, and I know no other Expedient that can restore the great Opinion, I have always had, of your Conduct, and discretion. Thus did Lisander take his leave, resolving to maintain no other Familiarity with her, for the future, than what might just vindicate him from the imputation of ill breeding.  
That same night, that he might seem to take his leave Gently, he brought two, or three of his Officers, who were excellent Musicians, and his Confidents, before Clarinda's Lodgings, to give her this parting Serenade under the name of Chloris.  

CHloris your Rigour was to blame,  
Your Ice hath chilled, and quenched my flame;  
Your Anger hath my heat allayed,  
Your Scorn hath cured the wound your Beauty made,  
I'll Sigh, and Vow no more in vain,  
've freed a Captive by too straight a Chain.   

I can your Pride no longer bear,  
No longer hope, no longer fear,  
The Arrow's fallen from my side,  
Despair has done, what Love, and You denied,  
My Passion's Murdered in your hate,  
And though you'd Love me now, yet 'tis too late.   
This was the pleasantest Scene in the world to Clarinda, and the Governante, who were well acquainted with Lisander's Passion, and knew it was not in his power to stay away above two, or three days at most. They were ready to fall down with laughing to see him Cock his Hat, and act the Cruel, that, for all this appearance, would at the same time have fallen down on both his knees for a Pardon, and have broke all the Instruments to boot, with all his heart, for consenting to the Song.  
However, to make her believe he was in good earnest, and to try whether he could make Clarinda jealous, the very next night he went, and made Love in another place. It was a Spanish Address to a young Lady of Quality, performed upon the Street (as the manner is) just before her Lodgings. He measured the ground, more than a hundred times backward, and forward, with many a false, languishing look toward the poor abused Lady in the Window. He had two of the hardest parts to Act, at that time, that ever any man in the world undertook, to pretend a false Passion, and dissemble a true one. The poor Lady was so pleased with Lisander's Service (for all the Town knew him) that had not Modesty, and the Custom of the Nation restrained her, she could never have stood to make more than two words to the bargain, here's the one, here's the other, and e'en have let him in to rights.  
She began in the space of two, or three night's application, to value herself, not so much upon her own, as upon the merit of Lisander, and made no more difficulty of entertaining his Love, than one, that had fasted three days, would to go to dinner.  
In the mean while Clarinda who had still the news of all that passed, was resolved to sail with the same wind, to entertain another servant, and see whether he, or she could brook a Rival with less impatience. Having resolved on the Design she communicated it to the Governante, who was the best Manager of such an Intrigue, that could be, and so they presently pitched upon the Gentleman. There was a Gentleman, you must know, that in Lisander's absence, had made two, or three attempts to no purpose, to insinuate himself into Clarinda's service, and growing choleric with the disappointment (which is the most unpardonable weakness a man can be guilty of) was bold to name the Lady, without that respect, and tenderness which were the unquestionable deuce of her Virtue, and Discretion. The words in the proper and usual sense signified well enough, but, because they were ambiguous, and capable of a bad Construction (which it may be he designed) he was thought the fittest man in the World to be Lisander's Rival. For they could not but suspect, that when Lisander came to understand his pretensions, he would certainly grow impatient, and his Passion might at once revenge his own, and Clarinda's wrongs, in giving his Rival the Bastinado. The Design being thus laid, the next morning they met the Cavalier at Mass where (never dreaming that she knew how he had injured her) he was almost ravished, to See Clarinda cast now, and then an amorous Glance upon him, as it were by stealth, and as if she were afraid to be seen. He began to consider whether he had altered his Garb, or she her mind, but wherever the Secret lay, he was sure she had conceived some advantageous sentiments of his Person, and therefore his Wisdom thought it fit to push his good fortune, and strike while the Iron was hot. As they were coming out of the Church, she looked back upon him again, which sufficiently confirmed his opinion, and made him resolve to go Serenade her that very night. The good Gentleman spent the whole day in providing himself of four of the best Musicians, that were to be had in the City, to grace the solemnity. And, at night, full of expectation, he made a fine Parade with his Fiddlers before her window, where he began to Sing her such a parcel of doggerel Couplet, of his own making, as might very well have given him a right to a good drubbing, though he had never done any thing else amiss in all his life. Lisander, who had his Spies abroad, presently got notice of it, as he was practising Love in the next street, Sacrificing whole Hecatombs of flying Kisses, and paying a thousand silent speaking Reverences to his new Saint. You must pardon him, if he took his leave a little abruptly; for the counterfeit Passion, he had for his new Mistress, easily gave place to the true one he had for his Rival. Lest the Serenaders should have lost their labour, away he goes in all haste, attended only by two of his own Soldiers, that brought him the intelligence, who were trusty fellows, and excellent company in a doubtful occasion. As soon as ever they came up with the Music, without any other greeting, at a matter of half a dozen blows, they broke two fiddles, and as many heads, whereof his Rival's chanced to be one. This Adventure was one of the stillest (of a rough one) that ever I heard of. The Enemy took the retreat without so much as saying, what's the meaning of this? So that there was not one word of complaint, or controversy, nor the least noise in the World, besides that of the staves. For Lisander came not to fight and quarrel, but to correct, and chastise, and the poor Fiddlers were so frighted with the surprise, that they quite forgot they had any swords on. Clarinda, who was a party in the action and saw all the circumstances of it, from her window, better than they that performed it, was better pleased than ever she was with any thing in all her life. And as soon as she could for laughing, she vowed to the Governante, that the Gentleman's Dishonour should for ever excuse her from showing him the least favour. But she might have spared that breath, for Don was a Spaniard, and was so much ashamed to have suffered such an affront, and so tamely before his Mistress, that he durst sooner thought of dying, than of ever coming in to her sight again.  
Lisander having by this action confessed the power of his Love, and his impotence to dissemble it, presented himself the next day to Clarinda, made a profound submission, and begged her pardon. She found her own strength, and his weakness, and intending to make her own use of both, she told him, that his relation to the Colonel, and his own merit, should at any seasonable hours open him the doors of that House, and make him welcome as a Friend; But if he still persisted to pretend any farther, she must be forced to make use of those Expedients, which she was not willing to think of. Lisander had enough to say, but durst not answer one word at that time, for fear of moving her displeasure, which was more terrible to him, than a Cannon in a breach, charged with small shot. However he still frequented the House, and was as familiar there as if he had been at home. And though it was directly forbidden him, yet when he found Clarinda in a good humour, he could not choose but give the old string now and then a gentle touch, and let her see by Some passing Trope that his Love was above her rigour. When he spoke so plain that she was obliged to take notice of it, he was sure to lose her Company for that time, which made him day, and night beat his brains, and weary himself to find out some desperate Remedy, that might either kill, or cure; Some Expedient to set Clarinda on the rack, and force her with one breath to determine the success of his weary Love. For a downright Despair, he knew could make him die but once, whereas, that doubtful hope, that tempered Cruelty, those corrected Poisons, made him ready to give up the Ghost once, or twice a day. And what gave him very wonderful apprehensions, his utmost diligence could never yet learn, who (as she told him) she had disposed of her Heart; for he never heard, that she entertained any Gentleman, but himself. In the midst of this perplexity, Love, and Fortune, who had long pitied his sufferings laid their heads together, and undertook his Deliverance, which was thus.  
Lisander having a mind to see the Regiment together, and exercise them, Commanded them to be in Arms by the Seashore next morning at the opening of the Gates. It happened the same Evening, that four tall Ships were come to anchor near the shore to take in fresh water, and as soon as ever it was light in the morning, loosed their foretop-sails, and were weighing anchor, intending within two hours to be under Sail again. Lisander who was upon the shore with the Regiment, gave his Captain Commandant instructions what to do, till he came back, and went privately into the City to try his last practice upon Clarinda. He came up to her Chamber door, and knocked in more haste than he used to do, and the Governante opened him the door; for her Lady was just up. As soon as he entered the room, the Governante withdrew, imagining he might have some extraordinary business, because it was so early, and he seemed to be in such haste. Now Madam (says he) to Clarinda, I am come to take my leave of you, and (as I have often done in jest) bid you Farewell for ever, in good earnest. And with that he led her to the window, showed her the Regiment on the Shore, the Ships with their fore-topsails lose, and their anchors on peak. And then told her, that, last night late, he had received News, that there were great appearances of another War with France, and an Order to embark, in those Ships with the Regiment for Flanders again, where the Colonel was to meet them.  
That he had not a moment to stay, but begged her a thousand pardons for all the indiscretions, which his passionate Love might ever have been guilty of, and wished her all the satisfaction she could ever hope, or promise herself in her own unmovable Inclinations. Clarinda during this Narration, turned her eyes, I know not how many times, from Lisander to the Ships, and from the Ships to Lisander. And seeing the trouble, and confusion he was in, (which indeed was for fear his Project should have miscarried) She threw her arms about his neck, and fell on weeping most pitifully. Had it been to save both their lives, She could not have spoken one word; but with the same hold, She kissed him a thousand times, and wet all his face with her tears. Lisander seeing the fury of her Passion, began to mistrust the Effects of it, and was ready to repent the Experiment. And though he knew there was no reason for it, yet he could almost have found in his heart to have wept for company. Dear Madam (says he) speak, and let me go. Never, Never, my dear Lisander (says she,) and so she fell on weeping again with that violence that she could not get out another word. As soon as she was come a little to herself, False, and perfidious man (says she) could thy Cruelty find no other way to put an end to this miserable life of mine? Is this the fruit of all your Vows, and Oaths? Is this indeed the end of all your pretended Love, and Constancy? Dear Lisander let me in pity die by your hand to prevent that more cruel, and unfortunate death, which I shall meet in your absence. Madam (says he, with no little amazement,) If all this be Love, it is either very young, or you have been extremely in the wrong to dissemble it all this while. For now, Dear Madam I must tell you, the time is passed, and 'tis too late to recall it. Bear your fate, as well as you may, though I am sure in a very little time to sink under mine. And whereas a seasonable freedom might have made us both happy, this ill-timed Love of yours, worse than Disdain, shows itself too late, like a flash of Gunpowder after the Execution is done. May my grief, and hard fate (says she) light on them, that first imposed this uneasy modesty, this self-murdering reservation upon the frailty of our Sex. I have loved you, my Dear Lisander, as my own Soul, ever since the first time I saw you; it is to you I have disposed my Heart, and methinks a man of your reason, might have read as much in my very Eyes. Dear Lisander, either stay here, or take me with you, or do something— and then her sorrow interrupted her again, that she could go no farther. Madam (says he) I had been the happiest of all mortal men, had I but known you Inclinations a little sooner; but it's now to late. I can neither take you along with me, nor yet disobey the King's Order, and stay here. All I can say, is this, If I have but one half hours leisure, before we set Sail, I will wait upon you again to receive your last Commands. With that they kissed, and Embraced one another once again, and so they parted. As soon as Lisander was gone the Governante came in, and found the sorrowful Lady grovelling upon the bed, with her face towards the pillow, striving in vain to stifle that Grief, which was now grown stubborn, and unruly. She was a good while before she could tell her the sad tidings, which when she had ended, she fell on raving, and cursing the advice, and conduct of all such Governantes. Poor Leonora knew not what to say or do. She would have told her, as she did the last time in the field, that it was all mere design, and fiction, but she foresaw, that Wheadle was not like to pass twice. And finding her Lady utterly incapable both of comfort, and counsel, she told her, she would step down to the shore, and inform herself better. That it may be, things were not altogether so desperate, as she fancied them; and if there were any thing left to hope, they would leave nothing unattempted, that might contribute to her satisfaction. Drowning men catch at any thing. And seeing the Governante had yet some little heart, Clarinda raised her face a little from the Pillow, and bade her go. The Governante made fewer strides to to the shore, than ever she did in her life (though it were to an Assignation.) And finding a huge crowd of people there (who were come to see the Regiment Exercise) and seeing Mariners so busy at work she never so much as doubted the truth of Lisander's Relation. As soon as ever an occasion presented itself, she saluted one of those Officers, which I was telling you were Lisander's Confidents, and wished him a fair Wind and a good voyage. What do ye mean Madam (says he?) I mean to Flanders Sir (says she.) Not this year I hope (says he) Madam, we were there but too lately. Pray Sir (says she) whither are you bound then? No whither Madam (says he) that I know, but to Exercise. And just then the Lieutenant Colonel called him to his command. This Officer presently imagined there was something in the bottom of the Governantes' discourse, but he thought it inconsistent with his discretion to sound her, or inquire any further. The Governante run home again like lightning, and by the way two or three of her acquaintance asked her, if she had been to see the Regiment Exercise, which confirmed her, that the Story of returning to Flanders was but one of Lisander's Practices upon the Lady. The good News drove her home again in as much haste, as the fright had driven her abroad, and had it not been for drawing the boys after her, I believe she had gone faster. As soon as ever she came into the Chamber, Courage Madam (says she) Courage, And when she had breath enough, She told her, We are abused, Madam. There is no such thing. The Regiment is not going on board: It is only exercising upon the shore. And if you please to come to the window here, you may see them, (For till then she durst scarce have looked out, though a look would have stayed the Regiment.) It was then, that Clarinda first began to reflect upon Lisander's Policy, and her own weakness. And going to the window, she saw the Ships sail, and the Regiment continue their Exercise upon the shore. The  shame, and sense of her dishonour was almost as troublesome, as if the Regiment had sailed indeed. Sometimes she fancied it a Judgement upon her from the God of Love, (if there be any such Deity) for her hypocrisy in his service and her bad usage of Lisander. Sometimes she thought Lisander had but paid her her own, and that his Revenge was but just. And sometimes she was in pain to think, how she should receive him the next time he came. When the Exercise was done, and Lisander had led the Regiment to the Marketplace, and discharged them, they saw him give his Pike to his servant, and come directly towards her Lodgings. She bade the Governante step to the door, and tell him, her Lady was not well. The Governante did so; to whom he made no other reply, but, that he was sorry for it, and sent her his service, and so marched off. This Excuse (as he looked upon it) of her indisposition, madded him to the very heart, and made him resolve, now he knew her secret, that he would never see her again, till he was sent for. Three days, and three nights did these Lovers keep their points, each of them expecting the other should address first. In the end Lisander had the better of it, and let her see what it was for a Woman to slight a Person whom she loved. She could endure no longer than the fourth day, and then she sent the Governante early in the morning, to meet him at Mass, and invite him to her Lodgings. The Governante did so, and he promised he would come, though he told her it could not be till afternoon, for he was engaged to dine with a Friend.  
This was a little strange ta Clarinda, for she had known the time when he would not have deferred the favour, to have dined with an Emperor. About four of the Clock he came, and the Governante (as she was Commanded) went forth of the Chamber, as she let him in. Clarinda was sitting upon her Estrado at her Needle, where Lisander with a Smile marched up to her, and Saluted her, which she returned with a grave, and Modest regard. She had not yet determined what to do, or how to behave herself, but looked very Pensive and Melancholy, and whatever he said, she Answered him all along with a Monosyllable, and Sennor. At length Madam (says he) if I thought my Presence made your Ladyship uneasy, I would take my leave. With that she stuck her needle in her Work, and looking him full in the face. Sir (says she) Wherein have I deserved to be used so like one of your Gallina's? Or what have I done, that you could think of exposing my weakness thus? What is become of all that pretended Passion, and counterfeit Tenderness of yours? Or where is that respect, and Civility, which in Justice all Gentlemen of your Character own the Ladies? But I Confess it is too good for me. My easiness at the first Interview, made you think me fit to receive impressions, and all my severity, since that minute, could never set me right again in your Opinion. In vain, Alas! were the holy Sisters so many years in building, and adorning a Structure, which this false Ingrate has in a moment ruined, and laid in the dust. In vain have they inculcated the obligations of our Sex, and read me so many Lectures of Decency, and Modesty, which were all but like words written on a Wave, or like the Faith, and Promises of this Wretch, whose Deceit, and Treachery has taken, and demolished all the Outworks of my Honour, and left me nothing (Alas!) which I can call my own, but the Maiden-Castle. And then she fell a weeping, which gave Lisander time to Answer. Madam (says he) when you have heard me speak, if you think it fit, it will be time enough to Condemn me. What Error have I Committed, in making you Confess a truth, the concealment whereof (for aught I know) might have proved Fatal to us both, and have cost us much dearer, than the Discovery? And as long as I am just, and honourable (that is as long as I live) how can I think of exposing your weakness? The Secret is among ourselves, and, without you shall think meet to Discover it, is like to remain so. And now you see how forced, and unnatural the Sister's Breeding is: How insupportable those Customs are, that oblige us to dissemble our strongest desires, to slight what we Love, and run away from our own Happiness.  
And whereas, Madam, you seem to find yourself afflicted, for the indecency (as you are pleased to call it) of this last Accident, and may suspect it may have some untoward Influence upon my Love, I will tell you, Madam, that whereas my Passion was always true, and sincere, yet before, it wanted this to make it complete, to know I was beloved. And now, Madam (that you have seen the vanity of it) if you please to set aside all starched Behaviour, and Spanish Formality, Let us be friends, and never fall out again; for I Love you better than ever I did, and will do so whilst I breath.  
At these words she threw down her seam, and rising up hastily, she threw her Arms about his Neck, and Kissed him with as much tenderness, as she had done when he pretended to return for Flanders. My dear Lisander (says she) we have escaped the Storm, and are now in safe Harbour, where we may securely pity, or laugh at the Distress of those, that must yet make sport for Neptune, and the Winds. We have nothing left us now to do, but to Enjoy one another, and be Happy. And so she took the willing Lisander by the hand, and made him sit down by her upon her Estrado. I shall (for good Considerations) take no notice what farther Endearments might pass between this happy Pair. Nor would I have any longing Lover so much as desire to know. They were both persons, that understood themselves well, and therefore it would be rude to doubt, or inquire into their Conduct. Lisander continued his Visits, just as he used to do, and yet when there happened to be any Strangers by, he kept as great a distance, and used as much caution, and diligence in his Behaviour, as he did in the first of their Acquaintance. But when they were alone. their Conversation was free, and Gallant, and had no reservation in it, but such as served to heighten their Pleasures.  
Sometimes they entertained one another with the curious Story of their Amours. Sometimes he frighted her into his Arms, with the terrible Relation of some desperate Adventure in the War. And sometimes she drew him into hers, with some soft, and melting Air upon the Lute, which she touched to Admiration, and Charmed him with some Passionate Song.  
I cannot omit to give you one of them, wherein she does most excellently Paint her own Passion, and (as far as the Cause would bear it) Apologise for her own Infirmity. It was performed one calm Evening in a close Walk in the Garden, when she had called for her Lute, and dismissed the Servants. The words were these: 

HOw oft have I vowed, that no Mortal should move  
The pitiless Heart of Clarinda to Love?  
Yet in spite of my peevish Aversion, I see  
That in vain we resist, what the Gods do decree.   

How many Brisk Gallants, both in earnest, and jest,  
In vain have pretended a room in this Breast,  
Which a Soldier of Fortune, assisted by none  
But his Valour, and Fate, has eternally won.   

No Laurels, O Cupid, to your Conquering Bow,  
'Tis Mars, and not you, that has given me the blow,  
Nor am I the first, that has opened her Arms,  
Great Venus thou knowst, to a Warriors Charms.   

I acknowledge, Lisander, 'tis too late for the Town  
To treat of Conditions, now the Walls are your own,  
Yet the ruins of my vanquished Virtue still cry,  
Use your Conquest with Honour, or know I can die.    
But the Heaven was too clear, and the Wether too calm to continue long so, And when their Bliss had once arrived at its Meridian, you cannot but expect it should decline again. Within the space of one Month the Honey began to lose its Taste, and both their Passions began to lose something of their Warmth, and Vigour. There was neither of them so fond of the others Company, as they used to be, though they were both willing to Conceal it. I know not whether they had surfeited of their own Happiness, or whether some secret Gild, or remorse made their Love irksome, and imbittered the fruition; but certain it is, that the Familiarity they had Contracted by these tedious, and difficult Methods, did (like a Rivulet exhausted by the Summer Sun) insensibly begin to fail, and resolve its self into its first Elements of Strangeness; so that neither of them cared, how seldom they met, but for fear of disobliging the other. It chanced in the mean time that an English Seaman brought Lisander a Letter, of some eight months' date, from his Dear, and Virtuous Sabina, to whom he had plighted his first Vows, and whom in all his Gallantries he had never forgot. The Contents were these:  
Sabina to Lisander.  
My Dear Lisander,  
IF this Paper should chance to come to your hand, believe it when it tells you, your Sabina is weary of the world, and would hate the very Light, but that she flatters herself, it will once again show her her Beloved Lisander: If it never reach you, it does but follow the Fate of a hundred of its Brethren, who (I know by your delays) have lost themselves (as well as I) in the enquiry, and furnished matter of laughter, to those they were never intended for. Too too fatal Emblems (alas!) of my Misfortune, and full of Love, and Impatience, as any thing in the world but the poor Heart of  
Your Distressed Sabina.  
In the same Moment that he read this Letter, he resolved upon his return, and began to think of an excuse for his long Absence. And calling for Pen, and Ink, he delivered the Seaman (who was homeward bound) this Answer:  
Lisander to Sabina.  
My own Dear Sabina.  
AS soon as I had opened yours, I found my own thoughts so well Expressed, that I had like to have Transcribed it, and (having changed only the name) sent it back again in Answer. I will only add, that Love, and Impatience have made me resolve, to tell you very speedily in Person, that it is not in the power of Seas and Mountains any longer to separate, and keep alive two Bodies, that have but one Soul. Courage (my dear Sabina) and the joy which sparkles in your Eyes, shall like some propitious Star, serve to light me back again through the Ocean, and forever after influence all the Happiness of.  
Your own Lisander.  
Immediately in order to his Departure, he dispatched another Letter to the Colonel, to satisfy him of his Resolution, and desire him to procure him his Majesties Discharge, and for some Considerations of his own enjoined him all the Secrecy, the Affair was capable of. The Colonel (having lost all hopes of having Lisander his Son-in-Law.) wrote Clarinda word, that he had provided her a Husband at Madrid, and Commanded her to prepare for her Journey thither, within fourteen days.  
These two Letters of the Colonel, and Sabina were received by our Lovers with equal joy, and concealed from one another with equal industry; and both of them make private preparations for their several Journeys. Clarinda presently wrote to her Father, that he would take no notice to any body of the Match, because the event was yet uncertain, and so he never so much as mentioned it in his Letter to Lisander. About fourteen days afterwards, in the same Packet (Directed to Lisander) came the Kings Discharge, and the Ladies Commands to set forth for Madrid. They both began their Journey on the same day, and both under false Colours, and Pretences. And though they had been both very well content with the whole truth, yet neither of them durst begin to declare. They were each of them very sparing in ask Questions about the others Journey, for fear of being obliged to Answer some about their own.  
At parting they took a very Formal, and Composed leave without the least Transport or Passion, at which they both extremely wondered. After parting the only thing they were each of them very solicitous about, was the great trouble, and perplexity which would seize upon the other, when the Mystery came to be revealed. Lisander doubted how poor Clarinda would receive the News of his Departure for England, and her greatest affliction was, to think how he would endure to hear of her Marriage.  
When Lisander came to Paris, he was informed by Letters in the Post-office from the Colonel (for all things were now concluded, and made Public) that his Daughter was happily Married, which made Lisander finish his Journey to London with great satisfaction. And the Colonel had told Clarinda upon her Arrival, that Lisander had got his Discharge and was gone for England, which removed the Secret grief, and trouble which would otherwise have been part of the furniture of her Marriagebed. He was not many days before he Landed at Dover, with about threescore thousand pieces of Eight in Bills of Exchange, and Spanish Gold, a Gentleman, Four men in Livery, and Seven Chosen Spanish Horses. He was received at Dover, by several both of his own, and Sabina's Friends who had notice of his Resolution by the Post, and were well agreed on all sides about the Marriage, which now wanted nothing, but the Consummation.  
When he came to London, he was Conducted to Sabina's Lodging, and very splendidly Entertained, where the overjoyed Lady threw herself into his Arms, and in the Ecstasy could not speak one word beside, Welcome, my Dear Lisander.  
FINIS.   

A Catalogue of some Books Printed for, and Sold by Henry Faithorne, and John Kersey, at the Rose in St. Paul's Churchyard.  
THe Case of the Church of England briefly and truly Stated, in the three first and fundamental Principles of a Christian Church: I. The obligation of Christianity, by Divine Right. II. The Jurisdiction of the Church, by Divine Right. III. The Institution of Episcopal Superiority, by Divine Right. By S. P. a Presbyter of the Church of England, in 80.  
Summum Bonum, seu vera, atque Unica Beatitudo Hominibus per Christum Communicanda, Sex Dissertationibus aliquatenus explicata: Per Edmundum Elysium, Ecclesiae Anglicanae Presbyterum. 80. Price Bound 1 s.  
Solomon's Song paraphrased: a Pindaric Poem. 40. Price Stitched 6 d.  
Ephemeri Vita, or the Natural History and Anatomy of the Ephemeron, a Fly that lives but five hours. Written originally in Low-Dutch by Jo. Swammerdam, M. D. of Amsterdam in 40.  
Mathematical Magic: or the Wonders that may be performed by Mechanical Geometry, In two Books, Concerning Mechan. 

Powers,  
Motions,   being one of the most easy, pleasant, useful (and yet most neglected) part of Mathematics. Not before Treated of in this Language. By J. Wilkins, late Lord Bishop of Chester. 80.