THE SIEGE OF MENTZ. OR, THE Germane Heroine, A NOVEL  
LONDON: Printed for Sam. Briscoe, over against Will's Coffeehouse, in Russel-Street, Covent-Garden, 1697.   

To the ever Honoured, Adam Felton, Knight Baronet.  
SIR,  
I Had no sooner dressed this Germane Heroine, in an English Habit, and taught her our Dialect, but that my high Obligations to you, brought you fresh into my Memory, with all the requisite Accomplishments, for the Protection of so brave a Stranger, against the most severe Insults, that Malice, and Envy, could produce; in which choice, Sir, I have been further encouraged by that singular Affability and Bounty, which renders you the Delights (of the most ingenious) of both Sexes. And though I was somewhat ashamed to prefix your Name to so mean a Subject, as these Results of some hours of my leisure; yet, I thought it much better, to take this opportunity, to write your Panegyric, having so large a Field, as your Merits to exercise in, then to appear wholly insensible of your generous Favours, till something more suitable to your noble Genius should offer itself. But then, reflecting on your Avertion, to all Encomiums (though never so justly due) obliges me to lay aside all other thoughts, than of craving your favourable Acceptance of this trifle, and of subscribing myself,  
Sir, Your most Humble Servant, P. B.   

THE SIEGE OF MENTZ. A NOVEL  
THERE is so great a disparity betwixt Mars and the God of Love, that one would imagine where the first did appear, the last should not presume to show his head: The one is all Fierceness Valour, and Undauntedness, which scorns all Advantages▪ but what are gained by Bravery and Courage: And the other is of so soft and delicate a F●ame, that it uses nothing but Policy and Stratagems to bring about its Amorous Intrigues and Designs. Yet, notwithstanding this vast difference, Mars is seldom seen to take the Field, but that Love is perceived to follow in the Rear, not without hopes of obtaining as considerable Conquests there, as the other can hope for in the first ranks of Honour. We are not without divers examples of this kind; but this which I here present to the public, is of so modern a date, and so remarkable in our days, that I thought I should not a little oblige the World in giving it this Piece of Gallantry, in which one of our own Nation, was one of the principal Heroes, both as to War and Love.  
We will disguise him under the Name of Peregrine, of a considerable Family in the North of England, though a younger Brother, who being come to London, (that famous place for framing of Youth to Virtue, as well as to Vice,) there he sell in Company with some Officers of the Confederates, who had left their Germane Winter-Quarters, to spend some days in seeing the English-Court.  
His natural tendency to Arms put him on the design of seeing a Campaigne, or two; and though he had some thoughts at first, to make his first Essay in Flanders, yet the Friendship which he contracted with these German-Officers, made him to proffer to accompany them back, to serve with them in quality of Volunteer in the Army of the Allies, in hopes they would continue their Friendship towards him. They readily embraced his offers, with assurances of not only their Services out of their Friendship; also, especially Count Zinzendorf, who had a considerable Post, took him into particular Protection, assuring him, That he would write to him, and send him word where he should find him at the opening of the Campaigne.  
Peregrine having laid so good a Foundation, to build his warlike Resolution upon, thinks of no more but getting, against the Season, such an Equipage as might suit with his Designs, and the quality of those that honoured him with their Friendship; wherefore so soon as these Germane Gentlemen had satisfied their Curiosities, in all that was remarkable in this great City, and the adjacent places to it, (in which Peregrine did assist them, not only with all his Interest, but that of his Friends also,) they took leave of him, and embarked for Holland, in order to their return in their own Country.  
Now is Peregrine busied to the utmost, to get himself provided with Horses, Servants, moneys, and other necessaries, to appear like a Gentleman, being resolved to signalise himself by some brave action to render himself worthy of the honour of these brave Strangers, who had so freely taken him into their Friendship.  
Peregrine had left in the Country, a young Gentlewoman, who was deeply in love with him; but his Mind having been for a considerable time, before he could perceive her affections, possessed with the desires of Travelling, he had avoided, as much as he could, her Company, for fear of being diverted by her from his beloved design. This Gentlewoman hearing of Peregrine's sudden leaving of England, writ to him a Letter, which was extraordinary full of Passion, which he received the day before his departure; the contents of which I shall have occasion to deliver, in the Thread of this following Discourse.  
There is nothing like a willing mind to dispatch Business; his desires were so great, that in a short time he had got ready an Equipage suitable to his worth; with which, after having taken leave of his particular Friends, in the Month of March he set forward for Harwich, where having found the Pacquet-Boat ready for sail, he went in it for Holland; where he safely arrived the third day after 〈…〉 Netherlands, 〈…〉 where nothing happened to him▪ 〈…〉 able, till he was got within a day 〈…〉 ncy of the City of Mentz, which was then in the possession of the French, who put all the Country thereabouts under Contribution, & took up such considerable Hostages as they could find, for security, which they carried with them into that place, threatening them with Death if the Contributions were not duly brought in.  
There had fallen such a vast quantity of Rain, during a whole day and night, that all the Roads were covered with Waters, and the small Rivers swollen into Torrents: He was to pass on through a Ford that was at a small distance from an ancient Castle, by whose Walls the River run, taring up, and hurrying along with its Streams, Trees, and pieces of Rocks.  
There was a Lady on the other side of the River, who leaning over some Rails on the Banks, beholding the strange consusion which this medley of things made; Peregrine having made an halt, while he had sent one of his Men for a Guide, he, mean time, had leisure to consider that Person, who with her sumptuous Dress, and delicate Beauty, had fixed his Eyes in admiration of her; when on the sudden, the Earth she stood upon, gave way, and she, with the Rails, fell headlong into the Torrent; she gave a most vehement outcry, which was seconded by Peregrine, and his Servants. He Presently set Spurs to his Horse, and having gone beyond where she was floating on the Currant, being buoyed up by her clothes, and the rapidness of the Stream, he plunged into the River, and with much ado, got hold of her; but finding his Horse might hurt her, while he dragged her along, he quitted him, not without receiving a hurt in the Leg, which made it the more difficult for him to reach the shore, with his drowning Prize: At last he got hold of some Roots of Trees, by which he hung, till he had recovered Breath, holding the Lady's Head, as much as possible he could, above Water, till his Man reaching some Branches to him, which they had hastily lopped off of Trees; he got hold of them, and was pulled to shore, with the Lady: She laid for dead, on the Grass; and he with small signs of life.  
By this time, the outcries that had been made at the Lady's fall in the Water, had brought some of the Servants of the Castle to the River's side, where having beheld the sad Spectacle, they renewed the outcries; but above all, Mariana, Clarinda's Kinswoman, transported beyond herself, at the sight of her dead Friend, did fling herself violently upon her Body, making the greatest Lamentations imaginable; at the shock of these two Bodies, Clarinda coming a little to herself, opened her Eyes, and fetching a short sigh, gave visible signs that there was some Life in her. Peregrine, who was come to himself a little before, began to give advice, (in French, for he could not speak one word of Germane, though his Groom could) That the Lady should instantly be carried into her Chamber, and there laid with her head downwards, to let out of her Stomach as much. Water as they could: This Language being understood by her who was come to them, it was presently done, with the assistance of two of Peregrine's Servants▪ who told them all the circum●●●ces of that sad accident.  
Clarinda▪ by these▪ and other means fallen into the River▪ but was wholly ignorant of all that had happened to he● after? Mariana took upon her to satisfy her dear Friend in that point, as well as ●he could, with the relation she had received from Peregrine's Groom. And what is become of my Deliverer? said Clarinda. Is he alive? We left him, replied Mariana▪ sitting on the Bank over the River. An ill place, answered Clarinda, for a Person that has taken somuch pains to lave my Life, with so great an hazard of his own: Go, continued she, let him be invited in, and provide a Chamber, and all things necessary for his reception: Let me not appear ungrateful to a Person so deserving my care, the rather to, because he is a Stranger, who has done these great ●●●●●…gs for me. This said, was soon obeyed, she being absolute Mistress in that Castle, by her Father's detention, her Brother's absence in the Wars of Hungary, and the Death of her Mother; 'tis true, there was an old Aunt lived with her, but so antiquated, that she was rather a burden, than an aid. Peregrine was presently laid in a good warm Bed, in a decent Apartment; great excuses made for having defered so long the performance of those things, so justly due to his Merits, laying the whole fault on the care they had taken of their young Mistress' recovery. Then inquiry was made how he felt his Leg: He told them, that he found he should want the use of some expert Chirurgeon, because he felt the pain to increase, and to spread itself upwards: there was presently a Chirurgeon sent for; as also a Physician to look to Clarinda's, as well as to Peregrine's Health; they were both blooded▪ to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 reyent Fevers; and with the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 some slight Remedies, Clarinda was in a short time perfectly recovered; but it was not so with Peregrine; for what with having his Contusion so long bathed in cold Water, at a Season when the Air was something sharp, there was some apprehension of a Gangrene, which showed itself by the lividity, and insensibility of the part. So soon as Clarinda understood the danger, she doubled her diligence in attending him: She was no longer contented to let him have all that the Castle and Neighbourhood could afford of comfort and refreshment, but she thought herself obliged to administer them herself: while Peregrine died for Love of Clarinda, and slighted his own illness.  
It is an old saying, That Love will creep where it cannot go; and it is as true as ancient. At first Clarinda did all these pieces of service to her Deliverer, as incumbent Duties on those Obligations she was engaged to him for her Life. But little, by little, she found that there was some other motive, though she knew nor what, that led her on; she was more concerned, and more inquisitive after Peregrine's welfare, every day, though he daily increased in health: She would frequently find herself in his Room, yet forget how she came there, and for what purpose; which would sometimes so discompose her, that Peregrine could not but observe it, and she perceiving his taking notice of it, that would put her in the greater disorder. Once, amongst the rest, Clarinda having entered his Chamber, with a preserving Pan, with young Chickens in it, did not know that she had mistaken his Room for hers, till Peregrine asked her aloud, Whether she had brought him a Pan full of Caudle for his Brakefast? That indeed put her into such a confusion, that not having a ready excuse, she speedily went▪ out of the Chamber again, without replying one word: whereupon Peregrine offered to rise, and run after her, but found he had attempted beyond the power of his Leg: I cannot follow you Madam, cried he, but it shall be for the next time. When she was got to her own Chamber, she began to consider her condition, and how insensibly Love had drawn her into his Net, was very much troubled at it, but much more, that she had given Peregrine so great an insight into the affairs▪ of her Heart: She endeavoured to frame some excuses a thousand ways, but all to no purpose; she could not find any thing in the whole Magazine of her Wit, that could atone for that Error▪ because she knew that Peregrine had taken particular notice of it, and that her sudden, and silent retreat, had confirmed him but too much of her mistake. In this great perplexity she abstained from visiting him all that day▪ and when it began to grow duskish, in hopes to conceal the disorders she should be in, at the sight of him, she adventured into his Chamber, not being able to abstain any longer from the sight of a Person who had made a greater progress in her Heart, than she expected. I come, Sir, said she, not to make an Applogy for entering your Chamber this Morning, but for my obrupt return, without showing you those pretty little Creatures I had in my Pan, and not so much as making any excuse for my rudeness. I had forgot to say something of moment to that Person who had presented me with them. Madam, replied Peregrine▪ who had a mind to reclaim her; It would be a great 〈◊〉 in me to control your Actions; all that I have to say, 〈◊〉 ●●●●y that you had any occasion obliged you to so sudden a return, to deprive me of your most charming Conversation; I have passed this redious long day like an Hermit in myself, or rather like a condemned Person, after the hopes of a Reprieve. Upon the fear, I have been in all this day, of having given you some distaste. Sir, you might, or you might nor, she replied, according as you may censure my Actions. I am all respect, Madam, said he, and if I had any thought in me otherwise, I should soon destroy them, as Rebels to my Heart. There she interrupted him, saying; Take heed, Sir, what you advance, for should it at any time, be contradicted, by Words or Actions, that would be sufficient to debase you in my good Opinion. These Words check the brisk thoughts which Clarinda's late Action, had raised in his mind, fearing that it was his offer to go after her in the morning, that had deprived him of her presence all that day; so that he presently turned the design he had made to rally her, into a profound respect. And silence, which gave opportunity to Clarinda, thus to continue, I know that you Men, are but too apt to flatter yourselves▪ and to construe the least of our inconsiderate Actions, to your best Advantages, though they were intended quite contrary. There he interrupted her, saying, when I look on all these Accomplishments of body and mind, which spoke you the most admirable Creature in the World, or that I turn back my Eyes on my own Unworthiness: How is it possible for me, Madam, to do more, than admire; and with trembling, frame answers to your demands, for fear of breaking that respect that is due to you from the whole World? Nay, Sir, she said, than I can take notice of what I owe you, which I must acknowledge to be great, being obliged to you for no less than my Life, with the addition of the great hazard you put yours in, in that worthy Action; and I am not so destitute of Gratitude, as not to own that I have nothing to present you with, proportionable to so signal a piece of Service; but when all is done, I can but offer you those small means that I have at present at my own disposal, being yet under the Tuition of a Father, and a Brother, both unfortunately absent now that I want them here, to add their Acknowledgements, where mine are deficient Oh! Madam, What have you named? Or rather, what have you endeavoured to conceal? Answered he, Are not you Mistress of the richest Jewel upon Earth? And can all the Fathers, Mothers, or brothers, in the World, dispose of the Treasure of your Heart? That, Madam, is certainly at your own disposal. That, Sir, replied Clarinda, what price so ever you are pleased to set upon it, is not of so much value in my esteem; though, I must confess, I should be unwilling, on the other hand, to cast it away; especially,— she was going on, when she was interrupted with the entering of a Gentleman of the Neighbourhood, who had the consent of her Father to Court her for a Wife, whom I shall call Count Mansfielt. Madam, said he, at the first news of your late disaster, I come to offer you my most humble Service, even with the hazard of my Life. Sir, answered Clarinda, I have no Enemy to fight, to take you for my Second, except you would call the two Elements of Earth and Water to an account, for having together conspired against my Life. But here's a Gentleman, continued she, presenting him to Peregrine, who has done that already, and rescued me from both their furies, to the hazard of his Life; at this the Count and Peregrine saluting one another, the first said, I envy your Happiness, Sir, in having been thought, by Fate, a worthy Instrument in the Preservation of this Lady; I might have challenged a Prerogative in that, even by the consent of those that may claim an Authority over her; but Fortune is blind▪ Sir, you know, and— I can not call her blind, Sir, upon these fortunate Occasions, said Clarinda, seeing that when I was destitute of all other helps, from Friends, she called this worthy Stranger 〈◊〉 my rescue. Madam, then, said Peri●●●ne, if there is any thing, in this late ●●tion, that is worthy your Record, I 〈◊〉 attribute it, but to my good Fortune, 〈◊〉 guided me hither; where the same ●●●●…g, might have been performed by 〈◊〉 wortheir Person, as this Gentleman, 〈…〉 e like: Yes, Sir, replied the young 〈◊〉, as being doubly engaged for my 〈◊〉 Interest as well as that Ladies. I hope, ●●●●ered Clarinda, in a little heat) that 〈◊〉 will not say, I ever gave you any In●●●●… me? And I am of Opinion, that ●●●…ever my Parents may have done▪ without my consent, of this nature, may be, by me altered as I shall▪ think 〈…〉 not so fast, Sir, she continued, lest you leave me behind; after which; she ●●●●ed a side, which being observed by Peregrine, it▪ put a new Life; into his d 〈…〉ing Spirits, which he ha● almost lost ●● this young Count's confident▪ Appius 〈…〉 〈◊〉 which made him venture to say▪ that 〈◊〉 Lady was ●● the right, and th●● 〈…〉 keeved most Persons would be of her 〈◊〉 adding▪ There 〈…〉 a force▪ 〈…〉 〈…〉 to 〈…〉 Count, and 〈…〉 wed to give their Advices a 〈…〉 Right Sir, answered Clarinda, and▪ 〈…〉 that we ought to receive them with Respect, as coming from them. You say well, Madam, said the young Count, and that was the Motive that induced me to proceed after the manner I have done, towards the honour of pleasing you. My Father and Mother, you mean, Sir, who from me are distinct Persons, so that you might apply yourself to them, and pour your whole Soul into their Bosoms▪ make them wholly yours, with your great Eloquence; and yet I might still be the same indifferent Person in all respects: Yet, Madam, replied the Count, I have had the Happiness of finding a favourable Reception at your Hands, which there Clarinda interrupted him, saying, In Obedience to my Mother's Advices; but she is no more, and what power soever she might have, as a Parent, yet she could not, nor never did offer, to have a Jurisdiction over my Mind, and Inclinations. You have a Father still, Madam, who was pleased to encourage my Addresses to your fair self; I'll plead his Authority, and Favour. Here Peregrine could not forbear, saying, With this Lady's leave, I'll venture to say, That durst I raise my Thoughts, towards so much Happiness, I should trust rather on Fortune, though blind, and my own Merits, though never so mean and unworthy, than on any other Cause whatsoever; Assidious Services, and a most Submissive Obedience, are great Advocates in matters of this weight. Pardon me, Sir, if I must tell you, added Clarinda, adressing to the Count, that this Gentleman has named, two of the chiefest means, to which I may add Fidelity and Perseverance: In opposition to all Trials▪ Madam, whatever you say, must be assented to, replied the Count, you are a Party concerned; but for this Gentleman to give his unasked for Advice, I think it very unnecessary. With that the Count looked very frowningly towards Perigrine; which Action, and Words, having the more nettled Clarinda, she in some kind of Emotion, returned, Sir, This Gentleman I look upon as the Preserver of my Life, which may have entitled him to some share▪ in the Care of me, as well as he may be in my Esteem. Though blind Fortune, said the Count, has brought this Gentleman to do you a piece of Service, of that Nature; yet I, with Justice, claim such a considerable Interest in you, as I must not suffer any Stranger to equal, or come near, without declaring him my Enemy. I am not an Enemy to any one, replied Peregrine; but I will die in maintaining, that all the World, aught to admire this Lady's Perfections, and not without vehement Desires. Clarinda finding, that the heat increased, betwixt those two Rivals, as she felt Love to glow more fiercely in her Breast, towards the worthy Stranger; she broke off the Discourse, or Dispute rather, by saying, the Count would oblige her much more, in letting fall that Discourse, which was very unpleasing to her, and to exercise his Talient on any other Subject; and turning towards Peregrine, she added, I fear, Sir, that my too long visit, may have caused some Disorder, which may retard your Health, towards which I ought rather to contribute. Then, turning again towards the Count, If you please, Sir, continued she, you and I will retire into 〈…〉 his Hand.  
What various and different Motions did animate those three Persons Breasts: Peregrine was all Respect and Love; the Count Interest and Revenge, mixed with some grounds of Affection; and Clarinda, full of Gratitude, which was almost all turned into Passion. Peregrine, who before had had divers opportunities to observe a worthy Gratitude in Clarinda's Breast, was ravished to find that by degrees it grow up into an Affection: That Noble Vigour, with which she had maintained his Interest against the Count, had almost wholly convinced his Modesty, that he was perfectly happy in her Bo●ome? but still he feared he had reason to: apprehend the Opposition of a powerful Rival, but then he hoped that the Count's own Rashness would work him out a shorter way to his Happiness, than he might expect, by the due Methods in Love. He therefore contributed all he could towards his Recovery, and in that Resolution, his Spirits being raised above their ordinary pitch, by the thoughts of Conquest, he forced himself out of his Seat, by the aid of a Staff, and getting into the Room, where he expected to have found Clarinda and the Count together. He was strangely, surprised to find Clarinda alone, imerged in Tears▪ under a gale of Sighs, which she was not able to suppress so suddenly, but that Peregrine overheard; he found of some of them, she had covered her Face all over with her Handkerchief, so that Peregrine came up close to her, and stood some time before her, ere she could perceive him; besides, she little expected his coming, and knew no Body but her dear Mariana was permitted▪ to enter where she was; if she heard any noise, she believed it to proceed from her: Wherefore, as soon as her Sighs would permit her to make use of her Speech, remaining still in the same posture, Let us, dear Mariana, said she, Let us prevent, if we can possible, the dangerous effects of the Count's fury and power, over a Stranger, to whom I owe so much, and whom thou knowest I love. With that uncovering her Face, and perceiving Peregrine standing before her, she gave a shriek, and presently clouding her Countenance with some marks of Displeasure, in another Accent, she said; It was not fair, Sir, thus to intrude upon my Retirement, and become a spy to my most secret Actions; it must needs lessen you in my thoughts, and that which mere Gratitude had made me to express to your Advantage, may by such proceedings tu●n to your Prejudice. Peregrine, perceiving his Error, flung himself on his Knees before her, saying, I own my fault, Madam, and thus so I beg your pardon, but be so just as to hear my excuse; I have accused myself of a Crime, which I have committed without design, therefore I hope the easier to be pardoned; but if I must incur your Displeasure, doom me to Death, command my Rival to chastise that Presumption, which lead me to inquire after his Behaviour towards so much worth; 'twas the Apprehensions of his want of respect towards you, that forced me out of my Chamber, to be a bridle to his rugged Temper, which I fear, Madam, has been the Cause of these Disorders, I unhappily find you in. The Count, who Peregrine had thought to be gone, was returning again upon his steps, but was met by Mariana at the Chamber Door, who having seen the posture of these two Lovers, judged it convenient to prevent the Count from the same Spectacle; but yet not so well but that he had time to perceive, as she was shutting the Door, how Courteously Clarinda was raising Peregrine from the Floor. Hell and Confusion, cried the Count, Can I see this tamely? It must not, it shall not be, one of us two must yield to the other, by a sudden Death; with that he went hastily out again, grumbling to himself. Mariana did attempt to appease him, and called to him, but he had no Ears left but for revenge, which pressed him forward to some fatal Enterprise.  
The noise the Count had made, had reached the Lover's ●●●s; and Peregrine was earnestly persuading Clarinda, to permit him to go and correct his Insolence; but she retained him by the Hand, telling him she knew better how to allay his passion, as being better acquainted with it▪ I'll take my 〈◊〉 to do it, continued she, mean time, I must dissuade you, from so much Presumption as to believe that if ● mentioned Love, as you have intimated, I thought then of you; I must confess you have a great share in my Gratitude, and some Progress you may have made in my Esteem, by your obliging Behaviour; yet not so firmly establish, but that, the least, Presumption in your very▪ Thoughts, would beat down all the Fabric, your modesty had raised, should it come to my Knowledge▪ Madam, replied Pere●●●ne, I am nothing ●●● what you would have me to b●, and I will never presume to think▪ to speak, or to act, but what shall ●● correspondent to your Will and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 replied Clarinda, I will 〈…〉 believe that I ha●● some 〈…〉 you, but let that be the 〈…〉 of your Ambition. I am all Obedience, Madam, replied Peregrine; and in order to bring myself to this frame of Temper, I will have the vilest Thoughts of myself, and the most honourable of the Count, that I can conceive in my Imagination: as for your Excellencies, I am already satisfied, that they put you above the aspiring of the most accomplished Monarches on Earth. Mariana's coming in to acquaint them with what the Count had seen, and said, made them to change their Discourse; and some time after, Peregrine seeing it grow late, took his leave of Clarinda, in order to go to his Bed; at which Clarinda thought fit (to sweeten his relish after the bitter Potion she had given him,) with some kindnesses, to say, that she had a great desire to see his Leg, which she feared was not so well as she could wish, by his favouring it so much. I have attained, added she, to some skill in Wounds and Bruises, from some observations which I have made in my Mother's, and my Aunt's charitable practice amongst the Poor of the Neighbourhood. Peregrine would have excused himself from giving her that trouble.  
But Clarinda, who designed to sweeten him again, ordered Mariana to send for those things with which he dressed his Leg, that she might see it opened herself.  
Peregrine must have been more than blind, not to discern that all Clarinda's pretended actions of gratitude, were the mere effects of Love. But notwithstanding all his knowledge, he was to seem ignorant: He therefore consented to all her desires, and permitted his Leg to be dressed by his two new Surgeons. Clarinda perceiving some blackness still remaining on the bruised part, appeared much concerned at it, and said, she feared very much that he was not yet past all danger. Peregrine protested all was well; that he felt no other inconveniency at that present, but a little weakness which attended his Ankle, which he attributed to the want of using his Leg, and the fall of some humours upon that part. Mariana, who knew it would please Clarinda, did second her in what she said, and added, it was fit to send for the Chirurgeon very early in the Morning, before he should be gone forth: so that Peregrine, for fear of offending, had not a word to reply. This being concluded on, and Peregrine's Leg swaddled up again, he took his leave once more of his two Doctresses, and by the aid of one of his Servants, retired to his own Chamber.  
Peregrine was no sooner got thither, but Clarinda went into hers, attended by her Faithful Mariana; where, while Clarinda was undressing, they had a large discant upon that Evenings Transactions; wherein Mariana endeavoured to convince Clarinda, That seeing she herself was grown to that pass, as not to be capable of concealing her Passion towards Peregrine, she ought to take other methods with him, and not deny so absolutely, that which she could not conceal from him in the day, and from her at night, in her Dreams and passionate Transports, at her awaking. Clarinda confessed, that she could not well palliate her Passion much longer, it was grown to such a height, but that she was resolved not wholly to declare in favour of Peregrine neither, till she had got her Father's consent to disengage herself from the Count; and that she would lose no time, nor leave no means unattempted to accomplish her designs; wherefore she had designed the next Morning to send an Express to her Father about it. These Resolutions being taken, they went to their repose,  
The young Count, who had but very little rest all that Night, and that found himself the next Morning very indisposed, designed to prevent a Fever, by a bleeding in the Arm; he thereunto employed the same Chirurgeon that had been sent for that very Morning by Clarinda to Peregrine, because he lived near him, and was constantly made use of on any occasion by the whole Family, as those kind of Persons affect to make themselves busy in their employ: he told the Count, that he was presently to go to the Lady Clarinda's, to look on a strange Gentleman's Leg, who he had in hand before, and had left, as believing him quite out of danger. The Count hearing of this, caused the Chirurgeon to bleed him in the left Arm; after which he took the opportunity of this Messenger to convey a Challenge into Peregrine's hand, and to receive an answer by the same way, unknown, and unsuspected by any Person of the Castle. He then writ as follows.  
SIR,  
MY Right to fair Clarinda is so substantial and solid, that you must resolve to quit all your imaginary Claims to her, under your hand, or be ready to maintain your weak pretensions, with your Sword in hand, to Morrow, at Five in the Morning, in the Gravel Pits, about the midway, betwixt the Castle and the Habitation of  
Your Humble Servant Count Man●fi●●●▪ The least Child will show you the place.  
He delivered this Paper, sealed up, to the Chirurgeon, giving him strict charge to convey into that Gentleman's own hands, unperceived of any Person whatsoever, and to require an answer, and bring it as secretly back to him again. The Chirurgeon promised to perform his commands to a tittle, and upon that went his way to the Castle. He was presently admitted into Peregrine's Chamber, where, not long after, Clarinda and Mariana appeared also; they enquired after his Health, which he owned to be perfect, and that it was merely to condescend to others desires, that he admitted of this unnecessary visit from the Chirurgeon. The Chirurgeon did not think fit to deliver the Letter, while they were in the Room, wherefore he employed himself in pulling out his Pocket, all the Instruments he had, which were not a few, though he had no occasion for any; and with searching all his Pockets, he at last let drop the Letter by accident, which being perceived by Mariana, she took it up, and conveyed it into Clarinda's hands, who went out to read. Mean time, the Leg was taken into Examination, and after all adjudged by the Leech-Oracle, to be as the owner of it had certified. Now he had no more to do, but to deliver the Letter, but still is very uneasy at the Woman's presence; he tumbles all over himself, to have it in readiness to deliver, with the first opportunity; frets within himself that he cannot find it, at last perceives it on the Table, where Clarinda had laid it, after she had read, and sealed it up again: He greedily snatches it up; and Clarinda perceiving he had found it, retires with Mariana, to give him the opportunity of delivery: He presently conveys it into Peregrine's hands, and waits for an answer: Peregrine reads it, and instantly sends him back with these following Lines.  
SIR,  
HAD you said, That neither you, nor I, nor none else, had any right in that Lady, more than she is pleased herself to dispose of to any Person she judges worthy of that Honour, I had joined with you▪ in opposition to all Contradictions. But because I am of Opinion, you ground your right on a false bottom, I am willing to inform you, I shall not fail to meet you, at the time and place appointed▪ with my Sword in hand, to let you know ●● what right I ground my pretensions in that fair person; till then, I am  
Your Humble Servant Peregrine.  
Now are all parties very well pleased with their cunning contrivances, though every one in a distinct respect; Peregrine appeared all that day more gay and pleasant than ever, walking up and down, and would willingly have taken the Air out of Doors, but that he could not obtain of his courteous Guardian; when he found that by no means he could not get out, to see himself where was the place of Rendezvous, being so narrowly watched by all the Family, he sent one of his Servants to inquire the way to the Count's, and then to follow that Road, till he found some Gravel Pits about the midway; after that, he gave order to another of his, to keep all the Horses, and all things else, in a readiness, as if to depart the next Morning; but that they should do it very privately, and not go about it till all the Servants were in Bed. After this, he applied himself to the composing of this following Letter.  
I Fly, Madam, to inform the Count, with the point of my Sword, that you are a fuel I can yield to no Man, but accompanied with my Life; not Madam, that I dare presume to think any thing in me, worthy so rich a prize. But I am so vain as to assert, That none can love you better, and that none dare do for you more, than I am ready to perform at all times, and yet attribute to myself no Merits in the least, on that account. I go with that confidence, that I repose on the advantage of your Esteem and Friendship, that makes me sure of the Victory. If I live, it will be but to continue your Slave all the days of my Life. If I fall, and you afford but one kind thought to accompany me to my Grave, I shall rest in peace; but either in Life or Death, I am, and shall ever be  
Your most humble Servant Peregrine.  
This Letter was to be left, sealed up, on his Pillow, that it might not so readily be sound, and that he might first have time to dispose of himself, according to the Event of the Combat; he still, by intervals, mixed himself with Clarinda and Mariana, who had other Thoughts in their Heads, and Peregrine perceiving them to be something more pensive than ordinarily, did all he could to divert them; all this did but still more, and more ensnare Clarinda, who could not but be highly pleased at her Lover's great Passion and Bravery, which very much ficted her Masculine Spirit; but she had designed to prevent all mischief, for this time, with a resolution to give herself to him, so soon as the Messenger she had sent to her Father, were returned, what answer soever he brought, in order to prevent all future quarrels, in the opinion, that being once his, all other pretensions would be at an end, and fall of themselves,  
The Day drawing to an end, Clarinda pretended herself somewhat indisposed, that she might the sooner retire to perfect the design, which she, and Mariana had laid, to disappoint Peregrine of his Intentions: Peregrine also, to take time to pack up all things, without noise, was glad of that opportunity to retire.  
He had not been long alone in his Chamber, but he thought he heard the sound of some Instrument, at a distance, which made him give an Attention to it; he shifted to all sides of the Room, to find from whence it came; at last, having opened a Closet Door, he was sensible that it proceeded from behind that Wall: He laid his Ear as close as he could to it, and discerned 'twas a Lute; after which he heard some body say, Here, take this Instrument, it suits not now my too distracted Thoughts, come le's to rest: I think 'twill be convenient, answered another, that we may not fail of encountering the Count early enough, to defeat his Designs. 'Twill be a strange Surprisal, answered the other, to him, and to our Guests, who little think how fast he is secure. After this, there was a silence which made him give over harkening, to break their Measures, not doubting but 'twas Clarinda and Mariana, who had had some Intelligence of the Duel: He was alone in his Chamber, having ordered his Servants to their rest; he went to open his Chamber-Door, to call one of them, but found he was double locked in. This made him to distrust the more, but knew not how to remedy it; in this perplexity walking up and down, he at last thought of getting out at the Window; he takes what he thought fit with him, looks every where for his Sword, but finds it not; so gets out of the Window without it, and finds himself near to the Stable-Yard, he makes towards the Stables, where he finds his Man getting the Horses in a readiness, according to order, inquires after his Sword, but no News of it, so was forced to take one of his Servants Weapons, and that he might not be followed by Clarinda, causes his Servants, to turn all the Horses loose, out of the Stable, except his own, believing it too far a Journey for her to walk. Now, he grows very impatient, thinks the time long, returns not to his Chamber, but waits for the tedious hour by his Horses; and so soon as day began to peep, he gets his Horses saddled our, without noise, and he follows himself, without being discovered. That Servant who had been sent to find where the Gravel pits were, leads the Van, Peregrine followed; after Five or Six Miles riding, the Guide told his Master, that they were within half a Mile of the Pits; there Peregrine makes a halt, and perceicing a thick Wood, on the right, commands his Men to go wait for him there; after which, he rides on with his Guide, who leads him to the Pits; there he order his Man, that so soon as he should see a Gentleman appear, he should retire homewards, in the Road, at some convenient distance, a little out of the way, not to be seen, and there wait his coming.  
Clarinda, full of Thoughts and Fears, could not Sleep, nor suffer Mariana to take rest; but so soon as Day began to appear, they did arise, and calling up some Servants, gave Orders to have three Horses saddled, her own, and Mariana's, and another for a Groom, and they went about to get themselves ready. The Messenger presently returned, saying, That there was not an Horse in the Stable; this did alarm Clarinda: What, said she, are not our Guest's Horses there neither? The Person answered, that there was not one; this put Clarinda in a great plunge, and Mariana was sent immediately down, with the Key of Peregrine's Chamber-Door, to see after him; she passing by that Window, out of which Peregrine had got, perceiving it open, and something white lying on the ground, she took it up, and feared he had got out that way, she hastily run to his Chamber-Door, and having opened it, found that the Bird was flown; she immediately run back to acquaint Clarinda of it, and both in great surprise, run to the Stables, half dressed, and half undressed; there Clarinda met a Groom, leading her own Pad, who said, He, nor his Fellows, could find no more Horses, as yet, she caused him immediately to be saddled, mean time, sends Mariana for Peregrine's Sword, which she had laid out of the way; and so soon as her Horse was ready, gets up, order Mariana to follow her, so soon as possible she could, and rides towards the Pits, as fast as her Horse could carry her.  
By this the Count was come, Peregrine had left him for dead, and at his fall, having perceived a blue Ribbon hang out of his Pocket, he had the Curiosity to pluck it out, at the end of which, he found a Picture, which perceiving to be Clarindas', he put it in his own Pocket, and run back to find his Man and Horse, to make his escape. He had not gone far, before he met with an Horse, on which hung Clarinda, by the Foot in the Stirrup, and her Head dragging on the ground, crying out for help. He presently knew her by her voice, and perceiving that the Horse was frighted, he gently drew near him till he got hold of the Bridle; and by that means was a second time the Preserver of his dear Mistress' Life. He disengaged her, and knowing he could not be far from his Servant, he whistled, at which he presently came: Clarinda had been cruelly bruised, all about the Head and Shoulders, and received a dangerous Wound, on her Arm, with a tread of the Horse, which caused her to swoon, so soon as she had been laid in Peregrine's Lap, who with both his Hands, hilled her Head, and endeavoured to stop the Blood which ran very fast. He was in this posture, when Mariana came full speed, who perceiving the Disaster, leapt off of her Horse, and ran to Clarinda, who she found coming to herself; and who began to return thanks to Peregrine for his timely Assistance. He presently enquired how she found herself, which was seconded by Mariana. Clarinda, not sensible then of her pain, told them, She hoped it would be nothing, and that the fright was the most: But Peregrine, who knew better than herself, in what a Condition she was, desired that she should immediately be carried back to her Bed, and Surgeons sent for to take Care of her Wounds, and Bruises; she would not consent to be removed, till she had enquired whether Peregrine had any hurt? And what was become of the Count? He answered, He was perfectly well, except the grief that he conceived at her disaster; she asked him again earnestly, What is become of the Count? You have not killed him, I hope? Added she, I know not what he is, Madam, replied Peregrine, I left him unable to pursue my retreat. If he's in danger, replied Clarinda, there's no staying here; he has powerful Friends, that will revenge his Death: Fly Peregrine, added she, and preserve that Life, which twice has saved mine: This is no place for us to stay in any longer; Let us, at least, retire from the Road: And are you sure, you are not hurt? Continued she, looking on Peragrine with a passionate air. With that, not staying for his Answer, she made offer to rise, which with the aid of Peregrine, and Mariana, she performed: They led her into a thick Wood, which was close by, where they set her down; and she having once more inquired whether Peregrine was not hurt, and he assured her no; she related, how galloping down a Hill, her Horse had stumbled, flung her over his Head, and dragged her all along, and had undoubtedly killed her, had not the Heavens sent him to her Relief. Peregrine knew well in what danger he stayed there, but could not leave his dear Clarinda, all wounded as she was, which made him very Restless; she soon perceived it, and dreading the worst; I fear, said she, you have more cause to fly, than to stay here; 'twas my Misfortune, and your too great Rashness, has brought you into danger: Fly, Sir, to save that Life, which I must prise above my own Content. Where e'er you go, think of Clarinda, Sir; She's yours by Acquisition, The Heavens will have it so; but when you're safe, fail not to let me know where e'er you are; my Prayers to Heaven shall be to keep you safe, as safe as I shall keep you in my Thoughts. Peregrine was going to reply, but hearing a great noise of Horse passing by; and Mariana having perceived some of the Count's Liveries, they guest it was in pursuit of Peregrine; he therefore had no longer time, then to kneel, take her Hand, and kiss it; Adieu sweet Angel, said he to Clarinda, Death only shall drive thee out of my Thoughts; I am, forever thine: Adieu, kind Mariana, added he, supply my place in the Preservation of this fair one, I may live to return to see you both. This Farewell drew Tears from all their Eyes; he got on Horseback, and with his Man, went to seek after the rest of his Equipage, still looking behind him, going with a slow pace, and heavy Heart, till he had lost the sight of them. He met with his other Servants, with whom he got into a cross Road, with all the speed he could.  
Those who had passed by in such haste, were pursuers of Peregrine, who having found the Count, as they thought, expiring, followed him, while the rest were conveying the poor Count home, in whom, they had found some signs of Life. They were running with all speed towards the Castle, where not being contented to inquire after the Stranger (whom they believed had done the Deed, by what they had gathered from the Chirurgeon, who had begun to suspect the Contents of those Letters he had carried,) they also search all over the Castle, but finding nothing, were returning home; (not knowing which way to go,) when they were met by Clarinda, on her Horse, supported by Mariana, on one side, and by the Groom, on the other, who had followed as fast as he could get a Horse, and make him go; they knew her, though muffled up, and all in Blood; but the Business they had been about, and their rude Behaviour in the Castle, made them unwilling to take notice of her, so they posted by, without any further notice.  
Poor Clarinda was thus brought home, laid in her Bed, her Heart more full of Grief for Peregrine's Absence, though necessary for the safety of his Life, than her Body was of pain, by the Wounds she had received; they were soon made whole again, by the Care and Diligence of her Physicians, and Surgeons; but it was not so with that of her Heart, no Physician was capable of curing those Wounds which Peregrine's Dangers and Absence had made there; nothing but time, and his dear Presence, could be a fit Salve for those great Evils. As she lay pensive in her Bed, after she had been dressed, a Servant brought in the Letter which she had found upon Peregrine's Pillow; she bid Mariana open it, and read it to her, which drew Tears from her Eyes; and this having put Mariana in mind of the Papers she had found in the morning, she pulled them out of her Pocket, told Clarinda how she had found them, and then read as follows,  

Verses for a Song.  

WHile Beauteous Cloris, on the Waters lay,  
Panting for Life, Damon wandered that way;  
He 'spi'd, plunged, seized, and to the desired Shore,  
His expiring fair Prize, in triumph bore;  
But when his Purchase, he had laid,  
And saw no signs of Life, he said,  
Why made I not more hash, to set thee free?  
Or, being too late, Why died I not with thee?   

The charming Nymph, after some moment's rest,  
Gave signs, some Life still harboured in her Breast;  
She sighed, she groaned, she opened both her Eyes,  
She struggled hard, but yet, she could not rise,   

Till Damon giving her some ease,  
Her helpless Hand did gently cease;  
Which having warmed with Kisses, down he laid,  
And cried, Heaven pity this poor dying Maid.   

At this her Eyes, which she again had closed,  
Were lifted up; on his Breast she reposed  
Her wearied Head, looked ghastly on the Youth,  
Not knowing whither 'twas a Dream, or Truth;  
Till he be sought her to declare,  
How she, within herself did far;  
To which, with languid Looks, she did reply,  
'Tis too late Shepherd, Cloris, now must die.   

These Words did so transpierce the poor Youth's Heart,  
(Who first had wounded been with Cupid's Dart,)  
That to cold Death he was resigning all,  
When the fair Nymph, from Death thus did him call,  
Do not die, said she, and I'll live,  
And straight her gentle hand did give;  
So were they heard no longer to complain;  
But lived to Love, and loved to live again.    
These things did but add fuel to that amorous Fire, which flamed in the afflicted Clarinda's Breast. Why were the Heavens so kind, said she, to provide so worthy a Preserver of my Life, and so cruel again, as to snatch him from me, before I could let him know the gratitude of my Heart! His first brave action had sufficiently engaged me to him, without being twice made beholden for my Life; but, as if that was not yet enough, to make me his Debtor beyond hopes of redemption, he also cruel proves in his passionate Expressions, and brave Performances. Mariana, who did all she could to divert her from those Reflections, told her, that she had a great fancy to give the Verses to set, to her Master of the Lute, the next time he should come, that she might sing and play them both together. Clarinda said, that would but increase her sorrow for the absence of the Composer; yet do, continued she, since I cannot have his sweet presence, let me enjoy what I can, of the Fruits of his Love; my greatest comfort, in all my afflictions is, to find he loves me. No, said she again, that is rather grief upon affliction; as circumstances are, it had been better had he prove unkind. Thus was poor Clarinda afflicting herself, and her dear Mariana comforting of her, when news were brought, her Musick-Master waited in the Parlour. Clarinda would have him sent back, saying, she was not in condition to hear Music; but Mariana did so strongly plead, in hopes it would aid to compose her Spirits, that he was sent for up, and part of the accident that had befallen her, related to him, as it had been to the rest of the Household, to put a stop to their overcurious Inquisitions. He took up her Lute, which having tuned, he played on it such Lessons as used to delight her most; but she seemed not to hearken to them. Ask of Mariana the Verses which she began to read; then returning them to her again, there, said she, do what you will with them. Mariana taking this as a tacit consent, to what she had proposed, showed them to the Musick-Master, and desired him to set them to a Tune, so as that they might be sung, and played upon the Lute; he promised so to do, and to bring them with him the next day; and having played two or three Tunes more, he took his leave, and retired.  
Then had Mariana leisure, and not before, to unfold the other Paper which she had taken up; but she found it written in a Language she did not understand. Here is, I know not what, said she to Clarinda, giving her the Paper; (which was that Letter which Peregrine received from that Lady I mentioned before, the day before he left England:) Clarinda was as far to seek, as Mariana; she fancied it to be a Woman's hand, and was confirmed in that Opinion, so soon as she had read at the bottom of it, the word Isabel; her Heart started at it, as a presage of the sorrows which it would cause her; she dreaded the contents, yet was impatient to know them; she doubted not but this was a Letter to him from some English Woman, writ in that Language, and therefore was the less in hopes of having it deciphered: they both beat their Heads very much about it, but to no purpose; till at last it came into Clarinda's mind, that she had heard her old Aunt say, That presently upon the death of her Husband, who had died at London, she had been forced to go thither, to recover some considerable Sums of Money, that were due to her Husband, which she could not recover but by long and costly Suits at Law, which had caused her to remain in that Kingdom, near two years, in which time, she had got some imperfect knowledge of that Language. Clarinda sent Mariana immediately with the Letter to her Aunt, to desire her that she would Translate it for her, as well as she could possible. The old Gentlewoman was very unwilling to undertake such a Task, pleading her long discontinuance in that Tongue; but being overpersuaded by her Neice's, and Mariana's Importunities, she writ out of it that which follows, picked out here and there, as well as she could gather it, without any coherence.  
The despair of ever seen you more, has— my Passion was too great, not to be— to bestow on others, that which by my— so Cruel to one, who never— but in loving you— my Death a salve to all— Peregrine hear— of the unfortunate  
Isabel.  
The old Lady had required time, till Night, for the unravelling of those Mysteries, which Mariana was forced to allow her, but through Clarinda's Impatience she was frequently interrupted by Mariana, which caused the old Lady to lock herself up, till she had done, to avoid any further Disturbance; at last, the Business was Accomplished, as well as could be done by her, and Mariana called up, to whom it was delivered, not without being asked by the old Gentlewoman, how she had come by that Letter, adding that that was all she could make of it▪ Mariana, told her she had found it by chance, so run down immediately to show it to the impatient Clarinda.  
Heavens, What do I see? Said Clarinda, after she had read a little. How's this? Cried she again, reading on; What read I more? Continued she, here is his Name, and that also of that unfortunate Woman, whom he has rendered Miserable; See, see Mariana, continued she, Peregrine is false; Oh Heavens! What will become of me? Mariana, having read 〈◊〉, said, I perceive a complaint made by one Isabel; at Peregrine's depart, she ●eems to tax him with cruelty, and owns ●he loves him, but in all this, I do not find that she calls him Unconstant, Infidel, Perjured, Deceitful, or the like: No, replied Clarinda, but all that, and a great deal more does follow. Those Inferences may easily be drawn from what I have seen; Oh! Unfortunate Clarinda, and False Peregrine; with that she gave her ●elf over to Unconsolable Grief. Mariana did all she could to comfort her, but ●ll in vain, she represented to her, that though all was true which she but surmised at most; yet, this was before he had ●een her, and that she believed the very Heavens had contributed by strange Accidents to make him constant to her. A ●alse Man minds not Heaven, answered Clarinda, Oh! that I had seen but this before he had gone, I had commanded him never more to see my Face. In ●hort, Clarinda was in such a fury, that Mariana thought it Prudence, not to insist any longer on Peregrine's Justification, ●t that present, but rather to divert her from the Thoughts of him, by raising of some other Discourse, not questioning but that in time Peregrine would be able to justify himself; for Mariana had entertained so good an Opinion of him, that she would believe all things else, rather than that he should be false. The Messenger, which Clarinda had sent to her Father at Mentz, being just at that time returned, he brought her the sad News of her Father's desperate Illness. This Addition of Grief, made her resolve to leave the Castle, that place which had lately proved so fatal to her, and to go and tend her Father in the Town of Mentz, without any further Desires to hear of Peregrine's safe Retreat. She began from that time, to gather all that she thought convenient to carry with her, as Money, Plate, and Jewels, the rather to, because the Servant had told her that there was great Apprehensions in Mentz, of the Confederate Troops speedy Approaches, and that no doubt they would ravage the Country: Wherefore, partly her own safety, and partly in a despair, she took that Resolution, designing to put in Execution, with the earliest haste, and to leave Mariana, in the Castle, to attend ●er old Aunt, who kept continually Cloistered up in her Chamber, and to send ●er News, by some means or other, of that Perfidious Man, in Case she had any to send, that she might inform him, she now knew him: This was a hard Pill for Mariana to swallow, but finding she might ●o Peregrine a great piece of Service, in ●ending Clarinda News of him, from whom she did not question but to hear, so soon as he was got in a place of security; she consented to Clarindas' request.  
The earnest Desires Clarinda had to be gone, hastened in some measure her Cure; so that the third day, after her Disaster, she was fit to get on Horse back; but having been further informed that all the Roads were full of the Confederate's Forces, she thought it would be dangerous for her to adventure in her own Apparel, for fear of being met by some rude party▪ she therefore put on one of her Brother's Suits, assuming his Name, and being fitted with all things else, to make her a complete Cavalier; she set forward in the close of the Evening, with three of her Men Servants, designing to be so near Mentz by Morning, that the Confederates should not prevent her getting in▪  
Fortune did so favour her Enterprise, that by the next Morning, she got safe into Montz, but it was not without riding very hard, having been pursued for two Miles, even to the very Gates of the Town; there (for Addition to her Grief) she learned the Death of her Father, and that he had been buried the day before her coming: Those who had seen the Servant that had been sent before, returning with her, who now went under the Notion of Frederick, (which was her Brother's Name,) and Son and Air to the Deceased, did not in the least question the truth thereof; wherefore, they delivered to Frederick, all that his Father had left; but he disliking his Lodgings, he took one up in a more convenient place, and presently sent back all three of his Servants, giving them charge to put his dear Mariana in mind, of what she had promised to do.  
Peregrine, mean time, as he was making his escape, fell into a Party of the Confederates, who took him Prisoner, and brought him where he was most desirous to be, in the Absence of his charming Clarinda. He presently made inquiry after his worthy Friend, Count Zinzerdorf, and was not long after brought to his Quarters, where he was received with all the Caresses imaginable. He came into the Camp, about the beginning of July, having been taken by a Party of Foot, the Evening before, who were Convey to the Baggage and Artillery. The Camp being on one Line, and the Regiments of Horse and Foot being intermixed, it was late the next Morning, before he was surrendered into the Count's Hands. He being thus safe, his next Care was to give notice to Clarinda of his safety, which he conceived in these Terms.  
If there was any perfect felicity to be had, where the charming Clarinda is not, I might think myself not far from attaining it. I am with my Friends, in an Army that fronts, and threatens the Enemy's Destruction; and I have that particular and vast Advantage over the rest, of having you, Madam, for my Guardian Angel; but when I reflect on the Condition, in which my hard Fate, forced me to leave you; especially, considering that I am to place all your Misfortunes on the account of my perverse Stars, all my great prospect of Contentedness is reduced into a black Cloud of Dispair; I earnestly entreat the most obliging Mariana to let me know whether I stand for Life or Death, for both depend so absolutely upon Clarindas' State, that according to my Information, I am prepared to live, or die an eternal Votary to that fair Saint.  
With this Letter he dispatched one of his Servants, who spoke German, to convey it to the Castle, and got a Pass that he might not be hindered in his going or coming back. This Messenger, who was his Groom, made a shift to lose himself, in the dark of the Evening, betwixt the Camp and the Town, in a Vale, near a Mill, where some of the Army of Lorraine had orders to post themselves. This made the Groom to avoid them (not knowing who they were) to get betwixt them and the Town, with a Design, so soon as any light did appear, never so little, to get from amongst them as fast as ever he could, and so inquire out the way to the Castle: But he failed in his Measures, for the French sallied out, which gave an alarm to the Germans, who soon drove back the Salliers, who took but one Man Prisoner, that proved to be Peregrine's Groom. He was brought into the Town, and some would have made him pass for a Spy, but that the Fellow had so much wit as to call himself a Deserter, who being sent with a Letter, from a Gentleman, came but the day before into the Camp, of the Confederates, to a Lady that lived in a Castle, about a days Journey from thence, he had taken that opportunity of escaping into the Town, and that he was waiting for some opportunity of doing so, when he was luckily brought in; this and the Fellow's Readiness to produce the Letter, soon gained Credit, so that he was released, and the Letter, after read, returned to him.  
Amongst those who were present at the Fellow's Examination; a person who lived in the same House where Frederick ●ay, had been a Spectator, and being asked, at his return, what news from the Party that had sallied out that Night, he said, they had lost three or four Men, but had got but one Prisoner, who it seems was a Deserter, than he told them the whole Story; this having been related just by Frederick's Chamber Door, so that he had over heard all; he began to fancy, that he might be something concerned in this Business more than ordinary; he therefore enquired, where he might see this Deserter, and what Livery he had on? But could learn neither, he only was offered by the Fellow to go seek after him, and bring him to him, if he would consider him for his pains; Frederick having promised the Fellow a good reward, and given him a small advance, he went his ways to seek after Peregrine's Groom, who he found about some two Hours after drinking with some Soldiers; but he scarce knew him again, because the Soldiers had taken the pains to ease him of his upward Garment, which was Peregrine's Livery. But hearing him say that the Lady must excuse him, if he made bold to light his Pipe, with some of these Compliments which his Master sent to her; that made the Fellow confident it was the same Person, he stopped his Hand, and told him there was a young Gentleman, in the Town, that had something to say to him: The Groom presently put up the Letter again, with his Pipe, and said, he was ready to follow him, desiring his Comrades to forbore drinking the rest of his Coat, till he returned to have his share of it; with that he followed his Guide, who soon brought him to Frederick.  
The Groom having never seen Frederick before, no not in his former Apparel, nor Frederick him; he was obliged to interogate him the more strictly, and the Groom gave Frederick such satisfactory Answers, that when he was presented with the open Letter, all rompled, he soon knew the Character, and remained well satisfied of the truth of all the rest; he gratified both the Fellows, and bid the Groom come to him the next day, than he retired to his own Chamber, to read with the greater leisure, and privacy, that which he thought most concerned him in this World; he could not but reflect at Fortune's fegaries, who had misled this Fellow, by which means he had come the sooner to hear of that false Man, to whom he was resolved to send a severe Epistle. Frederick read, but did not; kissed those Lines which Peregrine had writ, an Hundred times over, as he had done before, when he was still Clarinda, and finding so much Passion in them, he thought he could not dispute them too much. He was impatient of the Groom's return, that he might further examine him, and find whither he might intrust him with his Designs; in the mean time, he busied himself in reading all Peregrine's Writings; after which, he took his Lute, Played and Song to it those Verses, which his Musick-Master had given him, that same day he had set forth for Mentz, which he had got very perfect, with repeating them continually, as he daily did, but not with that pleasure he had formerly done. Of Truth, this had been the greatest of his Diversion ever since his coming to that place, where he had lived retire, without any Communication even at his Meals, so that he passed under the Notion of the Woman hater, because there were divers Gentlewomen in the same House, Boarders, whose Company Frederick did avoid, as if they had had the Plague; and when any one came to make his Bed, or clean his Chamber, he would all that time retire into a Closet, at the further end of his Chamber, which contained all his Trunks, Boxes and Chests, and where he would frequently retire to play on the Lute, or to meditate on those Writings once so precious to him, that he might still be the less heard, and thought on. There he began to think in what perplexities Peregrine would have been in, had he been true, at his not hearing any News from him, which made him think the time very long before the Groom's return, who at last came. Frederick brought him into his Closet; after he had shut the Chamber Door, where he examined so closely the Groom, that he confessed to him, he had pretended to be a Deserter, when he had been taken by the Enemy, only that he might have the better opportunity to get to that Castle, where they had been made so much on by the good Lady of that place, on his Master's Account, he was sure; for he had heard his Fellow-Servants, who were oftener within Door, than he, whose whole Business was in the Stable, talk strange things of them: And do they believe, said Frederick, that your Master does really Love that Gentlewoman? Love her, answered the Groom, dotes upon her, ay, and will even run statk-staring Mad for her, to, it's believed; for a does neither eat, drink, nor sleep; but all Night he's a sighing and sobbing, as if his own Heart's Blood and Guts, would burst asunder: By'r Lady, I could not live so, for my part, continued he. Well, honest Friend, replied Frederick, since thou hast been so faithful to thy Master, and dost design to continue so, here is to encourage thee to go on, in serving him truly; and now I will tell thee that I am nearly related to that Lady, to whom thou were going with the Letter, and that if thou wilt venture to carry back a Letter to thy Master, I shall reward thee well for thy pains: Odds-buds, Master, answered the honest blunt Groom, I did fancy so much so soon as I saw you, though I never saw her, and might my Girdle never hold, if I do not venture my Whizle, at any time for any of you Three; try me else, continued he, do ye but contrive, and drive me forwards, and try if I don't go. This hearty proffer from so blunt a Fellow, could not but highly please Frederick, who resolved to take this opportunity to make a Trial of Peregrine's Constancy, beginning to hearken to his Love, who very much inclined him to clear Peregrine in his Thoughts, ever since he had, without passion or prejudice read over and over, those broken Fragments which did pretend a passionate Love, from the Woman, but no Perfidiousness in the Man, who after all might never have loved her. However, he was resolved to put Peregrine on very severe Trials, that should throughly confirm him of his constancy towards him, before he would admit him again, to the same place, he before that discovery possessed in his Heart; to that purpose, Frederick resolved to conceal himself, under the Character of a Friend of the Counts, and in that Humour, writ the following Lines.  
If all the Men in your Armies were as expert as you are, at killing of both Sexes, we should have reason not to fear for ourselves only, but for our Wives and Daughters also; you are not contented with those Murders which you have committed at home, but wearied there, with Blood, you are come to exercise your Talient amongst us, also; we have had but too woeful Examples of it, in the late unfortunate Count Mansfielt, and since that, in the much to be lamented Clarinda, whose knowledge of your Domestic Perfidiousness, has untimely snatched away from us. As a Friend to both these, I declare myself your Mortal Enemy, who will never have quiet till I have washed, with your Blood, those stains which must render you odious to all Mankind.  
This short but smart Epistle being sealed up, he gave it without Superscription to the Groom, with some Gold, and bid him to get himself in a Readiness, to Sally out the next Night with a Party that was appointed to that purpose, and gave him one of the Soldier's Coats to conceal himself under, which he might well enough do in the dark; then giving him an handful of Silver, he thus dismissed him.  
The following Night, the Garrison made four false Sallies, in one of which, the trusty Groom made a shift to get out of the Town, and return to his Master, to whom, having given the Letter, he related all that had happened to him since his Absence. You may imagine into what surprising terror, a Letter so filled with horror, did put him; he was for a long time mute, and as stiff as a Stake, without the least Motion, out of which he suddenly starred, ask the Groom if he had brought him ere a Letter? There 'tis in your hand, said the Fellow, Thou liest, Villain, replied distracted Peregrine; then looking on the Letter, See, added he, Is this directed to me? Holding it to the poor trembling Fellow; Alack, Sir, I cannot read, not I, said the Groom, but I am sure that he who gave it me, bid me to deliver it into your own hands. Why, who am I, Dog? Said poor Peregrine; my Master, Sir, I think, answered the Fellow, but I think strangely changed. I'll go ask what is the matter, added he, with that he slipped out of the Chamber, and left Peregrine alone, to descant upon that severe Letter, where we will leave him for some small space, to inform you of what was become of the Count, and of Mariana.  
As for the Count he had been so carefully looked after, that he was perfectly recovered of his Wound, but not of that extreme Weakness, which that vast quantity of Blood he had lost, had brought upon him; he, and his Friends, were resolved not to give over that Business so, but to have a full revenge, so soon as they could but hear where Peregrine was retired; to that purpose, they had made all the inquiries they could possible, from the Servants at the Castle; as also, of the Chirurgeon. They had learned, that he was an English Man, Peregrine by Name, that he designed to pass the Campaign, in the Confederates Army, and they believed, that without doubt, he was retired there; but they would not attempt any thing against him, to the prejudice of the Count's Honour; wherefore, they but stayed till the Count was in Condition to call Peregrine to an Account himself.  
As for Mariana, she had been so affrighted, and the old Lady also, by a Party from the Confederates, who had committed a world of Rudeness, that they were retired, Servants and all, to a place Twenty Miles off of the Castle; Mariana having concluded that it would be as impossible to send any News to Clarinda, as she feared Peregrine had found it difficult to send to her, at the Castle; she still continuing in that Confidence, she had of Peregrine's Virtues; wherefore, was willing to attribute his silence, to any other Cause than his Inconstancy.  
Things were at that pass, amongst the Lover's Conserns, when that the Confederate's Army had made their Approaches, very near to the Town, at 450 Paces from the Counterscarp, where the Saxons, (amongst which, Peregrine was a Voluntiere) had taken their Post, on which the Enemy did Fire continually all that day; and one of their Shot, out of a Falcon, unfortunately killed, the Prince Palatine, Frederick William, who was come, as a Voluntiere, in the Camp; and was, that day, with Peregrine, at the head of the French; where, also, were the Prince Elector, his Brother, and the Grand Master of the Tutonick Order. The Body of that unfortunate Prince was carried to Francfort, there to be embalmed.  
Peregrine, who notwithstanding all his Afflictions and Grief, would not let pass any opportunity of showing that he was not come so far only to see, and to be seen, did not omit this occasion of waiting on the Prince, at the head of the French, but did wish, a thousand times, that the Bullet had met with his Head, in lieu of the Princes; since he had received that fatal Letter, there had not been any dangerous Enterprise, but he had been in it, with a purpose Design of not out-living his dear Clarinda, whom he concluded Dead, of which, he counted himself the Cause; but still he did come off with Honour, his better Fortune reserving him to enjoy his Heart's Desires: How often did he call himself negligent Fool, for not having burnt that fatal English Letter, to which he attributed all his Misfortunes, as was intimated, in that which he had received, from an unknown Hand? He was resolved, with the first opportunity, to get into the Town, to inform himself, more at large, and to find out that unknown Person, who had been so severe in his Censure of him. That, of Truth, had been the Occasion of his going on all Parties; but, as yet, he had not met with any opportunity, of accomplishing his Design, which still did distract him more, and more, in so much, that his Friends, and especially, the Count Zinzendorf, had divers times inquired what was the matter with him? What Cause of Discontent he had had, which appeared so visibly in his Countenance? And that made him so desperately throw himself into all kind of Dangers? Desiring him to manage himself a little better? But to all these Interrogatories, and Advices, he would make no Answer, nor give his Friends (who were really highly concerned for him) any Satisfaction, so that they were forced to let him take his own Course, giving him over for a lost Man. He still continued deaf, to all their Advices; and he, most impatiently, watched for an opportunity of deserting, with a Resolution, in case he found Clarinda gone, to throw himself head long, amongst the Enemies, and there be sacrificed, a Victim to her Memory.  
Clarinda, or Frederick, rather, on the other hand, had a thousand times wished he had not sent so severe a Letter, which he feared would produce Peregrine's death, his Innocence daily getting ground over Frederick's Indignation; at last, not hearing from him, it brought Frederick into such an impatiency, that he could no longer rest, without learning something of his once so dearly beloved Preserver; he had been brought into that violent desire by the frequent Reflections he had made, on Peregrine's Bravery; concluding with himself, that it was impossible so gallant a Person, who had done so much for him, could be guilty of so horrid a Crime, as he had taxed him with, in his Passion: He had tried all means imaginable to send some body to him, but had found it impossible, which had made him take up the brave Resolution to join in the next Party that should go out, and to get over to the Army, or perish in the attempt. To accomplish this, he went a Voluntiere, and joined himself to the Horse-Guard, that the Town had sent forth to front that of the Confederates; and there being no other Action, on that time, on the Confederates side; Peregrine, rather than do nothing at all, was got amongst their Horse Guard. Towards Night, there were some Pickeering, in which divers were killed, on both side, amongst which was one D' Andlau, Captain in Palfe's Regiment, and divers made Prisoners, on both sides, amongst which, Frederick was the best pleased.  
It proved luckily for Frederick, that he was the Prisoner of one of Peregrine's intimate Friends. For this Gentleman, having not heard what was become of Peregrine, had sent to inquire after him; News was brought that he was supposed to be killed, for his Horse was found dead, which was known again by his own Groom, but his Body was not yet to be found; so it was concluded, that he had quitted his Horse, and having fought on Foot, and that he might be dropped amongst the Enemies. This having been told in the presence of Frederick, it caused such a sudden change in him, that notice was taken of it; and presently after, he retired into that Room which had been allotted for him (for his Ransom had already been set to an hundred Pistols, to which he had readily agreed,) where having flung himself upon a Couch, he gave way to all that passion could move in a sensible Breast. He called himself, a thousand times, a Murderer, in having writ that cruel Letter, which doubtless, was the cause of his becoming so Careless of his Life, as he was reported to be; some Servants having taken notice of this great passion, in the young Prisoner, they went and acquainted the Officer with it, who, coming near to the Tent Door, heard Frederick say, unfortunate Woman. The Officer entered hastily, and going to the Bed, What Woman do you mean? Said he, And what is the cause of that great Passion you have fallen into, since the News of my worthy Friend's Death?  
Frederick thought himself now absolutely ruined, and remained silent for a considerable time, not knowing what to say. This made the Officer to add, were you acquainted with him? If so, let me know it? If he was a Friend of yours, I assure you, you shall far the better for it? Frederick, that desired no longer to live, now he thought Peregrine was dead; with a design to urge the Officer to do him some Mischief, thus answered, If you was Peregrine's Friend, you can not do his Memory a greater piece of Service, than to Sacrifice me to it? For, I declare, I was his mortal Enemy, that I writ to him a Letter, which put him into that Dispair, which made him so little to manage his Life, to which I add, that I let myself be taken Prisoner, (as the posture I was found in, might easily show), being alighted, and amongst your own Party, that I might have his Blood, for having been the Death of a Gentlewoman to whom I am related. Now, Sir, continued he, If you have any respect for your Friend's memory, do what he himself would have done to me, or I had been his Executioner? And seeing the Officer stand as amazed, he added, If it is the loss of my Ransom, detains you from doing that piece of Justice, to your Friend, here is that which will be worth better than an 100 Pistols to you? And with that drew a Jewel out of his Bosom, which he presented to the Officer, but he refused it; and being still more and more surprised, at these strange things, knew not what to think, and after he had remained a little silent, he thus said, I know not, Young Man, what to think of you; I find you are in a kind of Despair, which makes you seek for relief, in Death, but I am not a Person to take Advantage of any-one's Misfortunes. I do not know but that my Friend may have been taken Prisoner, seeing, that though his Horse has been found slain, his body has not been yet discovered; wherefore, I would have you manage yourself, till we have a certainty of the matter; not doubting, but that if my Friend lives, he will give you all the Satisfaction that you can receive from a gallant Person: forbear but speaking ill of my worthy Friend, and enjoy here all the conveniencies that my Quarters will afford; I will leave you to yourself, a dieu, with that the Officer went out of the Tent.  
Thus was the poor afflicted Frederick left, a Prev to all his Sorrows, with the only small glimpse, which Peregrine's Friend had left him, by saying, he might be made a Prisoner; Frederick, resolved to know the truth of it, out of hand, by escaping into the City, though with the hazard of his Life; with a firm Resolution, to die, if he found not Peregrine there a live; he began to be extraordinary sensible of the evil Effects of his Rashness, in sending that fatal Letter, which had been the certain cause of all the Evils that followed upon it, so accounted himself the Murderer of him, who had twice preserved his Life, and whom he now verily believed to be true, and constant, by the strange effects which those cursed Lines had wrought in him, which made him so carelessly to prostitute his Life, in the greatest dangers, as believing it not worth preserving, after the loss of his Clarinda; thus did Frederick's Bosom declare in favour of the unfortunate Peregrine, which made him to conclude to kill himself, if he found him not in Mentz, designing to get thither the next Night, or to die in the attempt; but the Heavens had ordained otherwise of him, as I am going to relate.  
The Confederates did throw abundance of Bombs, every Night, into the City, which fired many Houses; that in which poor wounded Prisoners lay, having been set on Fire, they were forced to be removed, as fast as they could, and they put a wounded Gentleman into a Chamber, at the very next House, which pro●ed to be in Frederick's own Chamber, ●ill they had found some other conveniency for him. Frederick having given ●ut, when he left his Lodgings, that he ●hould not return in three or four days, because he was to go to the other end of ●he Town, about earnest business; he ●ad taken the Key of his large Closet ●ith him, but had left his Chamber ●oor open; and this Fire happening in ●he Night, they had carried the wounded Gentleman in there, as being nearest at ●and, with a design to remove him a●ain, so soon as the owner of the Cham●er should return. That Night divers ●eserters got into the Town, and Frede●ick heard that two or three French Officeers had gotten in at noon day, that ●ave him hopes of having as good a success in his attempt; in these hopes he ●alks out to take a little Air, as he pre●ended, but it was to observe which way ●e should attempt to put in Execution his ●esign.  
As he was thus walking pensive alone, ●● perceived a small Party, riding up towards him; he, who had no mind to be ●en, stepped a little out of the way, that they might pass him unregarded; but, as the company▪ was got close to him, he thought he knew one of their Voices, he looked suddenly up, and perceiving that it was Count Mansfeilt, he presently turned his Head another way, and observed which way they were marching, and saw them go into that Tent which belonged to the Officer that had taken him. The Count being now perfectly recovered of his Wounds, and Weakness, and having learned where Peregrine was entertained, had been with his Kinsman, Count Zinzendorf, to demand Justice of him, against a Stranger, who had wronged him, and taken something from him, whom he protected. The Count, who was related to Mansfeilt, received him very Courteously, and assured him of all the Services that lay in his power; but told him, withal, that he had had so many Proofs of that Gentleman's bravery, and generous Temper, whom he accused, that none but his Kinsman could suspect, without offending him; that he hoped he was mistaken in the Person, and that to be satisfied in that, he himself would conduct his Kinsman, to his Friends Quarters, having not heard of him in two days: They were going to seek after Peregrine, when Frederick did take notice of them. It entered into Frederick's Head, that the Count came not there for any good to Peregrine, which made him (though Peregrine was far from thence, if he was at all) to have a Desire of knowing the nature of the Count's Business. He therefore walks back, ●o●●ly after, and getting in by the back way of the Tent, waited to hear what would be said.  
He had looked on the young Count, as the first Cause of all his, and of Peregrine's Misfortunes, and even of his Death, if he was slain: This had bred such an hatred in his Breast, rowards the Count, that he wished he could be the Death of him; wherefore, very far from ever receiving him into Favour again. Being thus prepossessed, he heard the Officer relate how Peregrine had been lost, and that he had a young Prisoner, who he had taken that Night, that had declared he had permitted himself to be taken, but to be brought where Peregrine was, that he might kill him, for being the Death of a Kinswoman of his. He is very desperate, added the Officer, and Careless of his Life, expresses much Courage, though very young. Upon this, the Count said, That it was not he alone who complained of Peregrine's Unworthiness; and that besides that Gentlewoman, for whose Death he was accused, he believed, that the Death of another Lady might be laid to his Charge also, of whom no News was to be had, and who doubtless he had made away, it may be, after he had had his Pleasure of her. Here, Frederick could not any longer forbear, but rushing into the Tent, addressed himself to the Count, with a stern Countenance, and his Hand upon his Sword. Thou liest Count, cried he, aloud, in the Relation thou givest of Peregrine, and because he is not here to justify himself of those base and false Accusations, I come to vindicate him in the presence of all these; therefore draw, added he, and with that, drew his Sword, and run at the Count: The Count had but time to draw, and making a pass, gave a slight Wound to Frederick's Hand, and disarmed him, before any could come into them. They were parted, and Frederick put out of the Tent, and every Body remained in a maze, at the rash, and desperate Actions, of so young a Youth; but, above all, the Officer was strangely surprised to see one who had declared was come to kill Peregrine, espouse, with so much fierceness, his Interest, in so rashly exposing his Life to maintain Peregrine's Reputation.  
Mean time, Frederick was glad he had been put out, before he had been discovered by any there; and for fear of being called to an account, for this Action, before the Count, who might, at last, know him, he went his way, telling some Servants, he met, that he was going to seek some Chirurgeon to dress his Hand. Of Truth, the Count began to entertain some Ideas of that Face, which persuaded him he had seen it somewhere before; and upon that he had desired that Person should be brought in again, that he might have a more full view of him; but he was gone, and was not found by any at that time. All this did still breed more Suspicion in the Count, and Wonders in the Beholders; he, at last, with pondering much upon the knowledge of that Face, did really conclude, that this was none but Clarinda, in a Disguise; but, on what account, could not imagine; he had but too well found that Peregrine had rendered himself absolute Master of Clarindas' Heart, he feared, beyond all the Art he had to reclaim it again; yet, he was loath to absolutely give over the pursuit; he found he still had the same Love and Affection for her, but had great reason to believe she hated him, witness her late Action; in this Agitation of Spirit, he knew not what to resolve, nor indeed, what to say to his Friends: He thought that if he could but once more set his Eye upon her, he would haunt her Day and Night, rather than not receive some favourable answer from her: In this Resolution, he takes his leave of Count Zinzendorf, and of the other Officer, and with those Friends that he had brought along with him, returns, with a design to separate, and all go in search after her, several ways, and in case Peregrine was dead (as it was believed) never to abandon her, till he had gained her good Will; but in case he should still be living, either to kill, or be killed, by him, finding it impossible for him to live, without the Possession of Clarinda. He thus sent his Friends several ways to seek her, amongst her own Relations, and at the Castle, but reserves to himself, to search the whole Camp after her.  
Frederick having got as far as the Lorraine Attack, he perceived a French Party, of about 400 Foot, that appeared within a mile of the Trenches, he designed, at first, to have run amongst them, but they presently disappeared again, so remained frustrated of that design; some time after, it reigned very hard, which made Frederisk to seek for some shelter; as he was so doing, he perceived a Woman, at some distance, that crept on all four, whom he concluded to be some Spy, or some Carrier of Intelligence; he, after the same manner, got to her, before she had espied him; when, finding it was too late for her to endeavour her escape, she turned towards him, fell on her Knees, and besought him to spare her Life, promising that she would never more stir out of the Town; this she did, believing verily that she was discovered to be a Spy, and that Frederick had come that way, and had ventured so near the Shot of the Town, but to seize on her. Some few Shots, indeed, were made at them, while Frederick bid her not to fear, that he would do her no hurt. So soon as she had his promise, she called to a black Dog of hers, that was not far from thence, which being perceived by those on the Ramparts, that had Shot at them before, they presently ceased firing. Frederick asked the Woman how he might get into the Town, she judging, by that, that he was some Deserter, plucked up a good Heart, and told him, that if he pleased to have patience a while, he should see her get in, and-that he might after do the like, if he pleased; all this time they being got into a little hollow, that covered them from the Camp, though not from the Town; she told him that she had used this Trade daily, ever since the Town had been Besieged, and that she had never been surprised; that in case she should be at any time taken, that nothing might be found about her, that could prejudice her, she rolled up her Intelligence, in a piece of Parchment, and put that Parchment in a piece of Gut, which she gave to her Dog to carry, and that he had been used to follow her, at a great distance; that when she came near the Gate, she would slip herself into her little H●t, that was close by the Sentry, by the back Door, and open the fore Door, in which her Dog would come; that so soon as he was got in, she would lock him up, feed him well, and then would go, and deliver her Intelligence to the Governor; and that, by so doing, she had got the Character of being a Witch, that used to go in, and out of the Town, in the shape of a black Dog; that she had a Pistol every time, and that all that mounted the Guard, had Orders not to Shoot any Dog. Not long after this, at a sign that was given, she went sidling towards the Town, her Dog still remaining in the same place; she bid Frederick to follow the Dog, who would not go fast, so soon as he should see him move. It proved as the Woman had said, when she was got about an hundred yards, from the Dog, the Dog took up the piece of Gut, which lay by him, and followed the Woman, still keeping the same distance behind her. Frederick, perceiving this, began to follow the Dog, thereby, exposing himself wholly to the Towns Shot, but there was not one made at him; thus little by little, taking a small compass, still tending towards the Gate Gaw; where, at last, being come, they were both let in; at the Foot of the Rampart, she had made a halt, at which the Dog had done the like; but Frederick advanced, after she had given him a sign. Thus did Frederick get into the Town again, without any great hazard; he gave the Woman a Pistol, and then went towards his old Lodgings, which were almost at the other end of the Town: They had seen six or seven French Officers, well mounted, who had endeavoured to get into the Town, at a considerable distance from them; Frederick, at first, though on Foot, wished himself amongst them, but seeing two of them drop, he took the Woman's Advice, and did not follow the rest, who got safe in.  
Frederick, after his wont Custom, so soon as he got into that House, where he lodged, was going into his Chamber, without speaking to any body; but his Landlady called, and told him, that his Chamber was taken up, by such an Accident, which she related to him, but that the Party should presently be removed; mean time, a Servant was gone to bid the wounded Gentleman prepare to be removed, which News he received with much disgust, fearing the prejudice which another disturbance would produce to his Wound; he desired therefore, that he might first speak with the Gentleman that owned the Chamber; Frederick, hearing that, went in▪ Sir, said the Sick Man, to him, You see, a poor wounded Prisoner; I am a Gentleman, continued he, and if, besides the Ransom I am to pay, I can purchase my stay here, till I am in a better Condition to remove, spoke but your demands, and I will procure it you. Frederick, pitying the poor Gentleman's Condition, whom he guest to be very ill, by the faintness of his Voice, made answer, that he knew how to be civil even to his Enemies, that he should remain there so long as he pleased, and trouble himself no further; with that, Frederick, shutting the Bed-curtaines close, bid him take his rest, and went immediately out of the House again, in the design of employing some Persons, to go in every part of the Town, and inquire after a Gentleman Prisoner, taken such a day, and supposed to be brought in wounded, his Horse having been shot under him. Frederick having resolved to remain in the Closet, all that day, and the next, where there was a little Couch; he got a Bottle of Wine, another of Water, and some Biscuit, with which he retired into the Closet, without having been perceived of any Body, no not so much as by the Sick Man, who knew of no Closet, and when he heard any noise, supposed it to be some Servant, who was going in and out; thus did Frederick lock himself into his Closet, for that time, having told the Persons whom he had employed, on the search after Peregrine, that he would meet them, at such a certain place, two days after.  
In the Night time, as Frederick lay on his Couch, he heard great complaints, and having harkened to them, he found it was the Sick Man, who was lamenting his hard Fate. What vast difference, said he, do I find, betwixt the Wounds of the Body, and those of the Mind! How insensible I am of the first, when, my Miseries present themselves to my thoughts! And, what Balm have I to allay the smart of the last, but this poor Relic of that fair Saint, which my Soul did Adore! How dare I look on it? What Advantage can I expect from it? After what I have made the Original to suffer; Thou sweet representer of all my past Joys, I would not part with thee for less than the Original; the whole World is of less value to me, than this dead Idea of that which with me was all in all. Why do I live still, so long as she's no more? Well, a short time shall put an end to all my Miseries; I will follow in death, she who I have sent before, by my inconsiderateness; and seeing I am deprived of her dear Conversation in this Life, I will endeavour to enjoy it in the next, so soon as my slight Wound will but permit me to sacrifice my life to those dear Ashes; mean time I must continue miserable. Oh Heavens! After this there was a great silence, which continuing, Frederick opened the Closet Door, without the least noise, and approaching little by little, towards the Bed, and finding that the Gentleman was fallen fast asleep, he ventured to search upon it for the Picture that had lately been mentioned; but hearing some noise at the Chamber-Door, that made him to retire again, to lock himself up, and to defer his curiosity, till some other convenient time.  
It was that Officer who had taken Peregrine Prisoner, who having learned that day, by a Deserter, that the Besiegers designed very suddenly to give a general Assault, was come to bid his Prisoner provide the 100 Pistoles for his Ransom: To which the Chirurgeon that was with him, added, That now he was almost well, he desired he should also send for Money to pay his Charges. This was something surprising to Peregrine, who made no answer; which made the Quartermaster say, That he did not know how Fortune might order the day; and that he was loath to lose so much Money, which might serve for a Ransom for himself, should he have the Fortune to be made a Prisoner; and bidding Peregrine employ some body about it, the next day at the farthest, he went huffing out of the Chamber. Peregrine, who had not spoke one Word all the while, but answered with Sighs, then said, Here is some comfort yet, this want of a Ransom may invite this greedy man to send me to my dear Clarinda. Oh! that Name has still such Charms in it, that it puts life in me when I hear it sound: She was too forward, too credulous, too— Ah! Fatal Isabel; Thou hast carried home thy Revenge against me, for slighting of thy Love; my time to Love was not yet come; Clarinda was ●●●●g●●● to gather the first Fruits of my Affections; but how dear she has paid for it, is the subject of my eternal Grief. After these, and divers others regrets, he remained silent.  
Frederick, who had heard all, being now entirely convinced, that this Person was her dear Peregrine, and that he was blameless, and never loved any other but him, he resolved to put an end to both their Afflictions in a short time, but would do it with the greatest surprise that could be imagined, having so fair an opportunity to do it; and to begin, he rolled up two several Papers, containing each an hundred Pistoles, then writ what follows.  
Your good Angel, to preserve your Life, and compose your Spirits, has provided what Gold you have occasion for; and in requital of it, has deprived you of the renewer of your grief. Still live in hope it is Clarinda's Ghost will have it so.  
After this, having watched till he was asleep, he came softly to the Bedside, and having laid the two Papers of Gold close to his Pillow, was groping for the ●●●tu●e, he felt him to move, than heard him sigh, which had put him by from seeking any farther, for fear of being discovered; but as he was taking up his hand, he found his Fingers entangled, which proved to be the Ribbon belonging to the Picture; he presently took it up, and retired softly, unperceived, and just as he was getting into the Closet, he heard Peregrine say, Divine Clarinda; at which he could not forbear answering, in a low voice, Constant Peregrine. Ha! What's that I hear? cried out Peregrine, in a strange surprise, having he knew not how got sitting in the Bed, which he had not done e'er since his Wound before; the● he harkened very attentively for a time; after which he laid himself down again, saying, with a great sigh, 'twas but a Dream, but very pleasing to me; after which, he again remained silent. So soon as Day began to permit him to see, he was again at his exercise of sighing, and going to order his Pillow, he felt something heavy, lie close to his Head; he laid his hand upon it, took it up, and found it to be the rolls of Gold, leapt up in a sheet of Paper, in which Frederick had writ those few Lines. Peregrine, in great surprise, opened the sheet of Paper, and there read what had been writ: This did wonderfully amaze him; he could not imagine how this relief should come so unexpected to him; he busied his Thoughts a thousand ways to find out the right cause; and all he could imagine that came nearest to it was, that Count Zinzendorf, having sound out that he was a Prisoner in Mentz, had (he knew not how) conveyed that Relief to him: But then, how should he come to the knowledge of his concerns with Clarinda, and that he had her Picture, he having never discovered to any Person one title of the whole Transaction, that he could not dive into; he only conjectured that Mariana might have sent a Letter to him, which mentioned all those particulars; and that in his absence his Friends might have opened it, to learn how far it concerned him: then feeling for the Picture, and finding it gone, he was in as great a concern at all these surprising things unknown to him, admiring how it was possible he should be seized with so profound a Sleep, as not to be awakened; then sure, said he, these People will come again when I am not asleep, and give me some Information of the whole Event: He was thus canvasing the business in his Mind, when he heard the tuning of an Instrument, as it were in some other Room of the House; he listened, and was surprised more than ever, to hear those Verses he had made on his accidental saving of Clarinda, sung to a Theorbo-Lute. These were all Enchantments to him; and the most probable conjecture he could make of it, was that certainly it was Mariana who had done all this; but how she should come there, find him out, learn his particular wants, and all the rest, was a Miracle to him. So soon as the Song was ended, he strove so much that he reached a Shoe, with which he made a shift to knock so loud, that some of the Servants came to him. He asked them who had been there? They answered him, they were certain no body had been in the Chamber since the Quartermaster and the Chirurgeon had been there; because the last going out had double-locked the Door, and given the Key to his Mistress, from whom he had just now received it, to come into him.  
This could not but strangely disorder Peregrine, who asked the Fellow whether there was not some other way into his Chamber. The Fellow, who was but newly in that service, answered, he knew not, that he did not believe there was, and that he would see: with that he walked round the Chamber, than told him he could see no other Door: with which answer poor Peregrine was forced to rest satisfied; and the Servant having asked him what he wanted; Peregrine told him, He wanted now the Quartermaster to pay him his Ransom, and the Chirurgeon also, to discharge him, and all the rest of his Engagements; for I have been sufficiently supplied this Night, continued he, but by what means. Then he pursued, Has no Gentleman been lately entertained in this House? No, answered the Servant; but there were two went yesterday away. So Peregrine finding himself, after all these Interrogations, as much in the dark as ever, he sent the Servant away.  
Frederick was once giving himself to be plainly discovered, and was in great fears when the Fellow walked about the Chamber, but when he found he was gone, he resolved to pursue his design to the last: he, upon that, concluded to continue one Night longer in his concealment, though he began to be very weary of living on Biscuit and Sweet▪ Meats, which was all the Food he had had since his retirement, with the addition of a Glass of Wine, with which he sometimes refreshed himself.  
Some time after, the Quarter Master returned with the Chirurgeon, and were encountered by the Mistress of the House, who giving them the Key of Peregrine's Chamber, told them, That now they needed not to fear the Prisoner, for he had Gold enough to satisfy all demands, as the Servant had informed her, but that no body knew how it came to him, seeing he had been locked up ever since they had last been there. The Quartermaster began to prick up his Ears, and said, all that is mine; for when I took him, all he had was mine, and he must needs have concealed all that Gold about him: He must provide for another Ransom besides this, continued he, for this I will seize on as my due. Hold there, replied the Chirurgeon, I will not lose my share of it, be he ten times your Prisoner; while he has Money I will be satisfied for my Pains, Cares, and all the Charges I have been at. And why should I lose any thing, said the Landlady, he has had attendance, and all the House could afford, I am sure, ever since he was removed here; and it is but reasonable I should be paid. The Quartermaster, to avoid those broils, being greedy of the Money, went into Peregrine's Chamber, but was followed close at the Heels by the Chirurgeon, and the Landlady. I am glad, cried Peregrine, (seeing them come in,) that you are here, for now I have wherewith to satisfy you all. Hold a little, pray not so fast, said the Quartermaster, all you have is mine, continued he, as being concealed about you, when I made you Prisoner. If you could prove that, said Peregrine, it were something, though not quite as you would have it neither; for there has an agreement passed since betwixt us, that I should have my full liberty in paying you an hundred Pistoles, which I am now ready to do; but beside, I can assure you, that I have received it of late. You could not, since I was here, said the Quartermaster; you did not mention yesterday that you had any such thing in readiness: How came you by this Money? To which Peregrine made Answer, that he had parted with a Rich Picture, for that Money, that he might be set at Liberty; which Picture, you have several times seen me sigh over, added he, addressing to the Chirurgeon, and which I prised much more than all this Gold. I remember, said the Chirurgeon, that I have often chid you, for putting yourself into passions, with gazing too much on it; and really, in my opinion, seeing it was left you so long after you had been here, I think you may in Justice make the best Advantage you can of it. The Quartermaster, perceiving that they were all against him, yielded, for the present, and was contented to receive the hundred Pistols, but not without giving a Discharge to his Prisoner, which he did at last, with great difficulty; that being done, Peregrine paid off his Chirurgeon, upon Condition, that he should, from time to time, visit him, and furnish him with such Plasters and Salves, as he should want, till he was able to return to the Camp; this was freely assented to: Next, the Landlady was sattisfied, in all she demanded, and Peregrine enquiring after the Gentleman, who had so generously quitted his Chamber to him. The Woman told him, she had not heard from him since, but that she knew he would return again, because he had a great many Goods still in the House. Peregrine said, he longed to return him Thanks; and asked the Chirurgeon how long it would be before he might rise, and set His Foot to the Ground. I was going to tell you Sir, replied he, That if you find yourself without great pain when you move it in Bed, or when you feel it with your hand, you may venture to rise, and for some time keep it upon a Stool, sometimes resting it on the Floor. Very well, replied Peregrine; upon which they all took leave of him, and left him to himself.  
I told you how the young Count Mansfeilt had separated himself from all the rest of his Friends, in order to search the whole Camp after Clarinda; for he concluded that she must needs be there; he thought she could not be far neither, because he had unfortunately wounded her. He therefore designed to act as a Volunteer, and to engage in some warm Action. He was in some despair also, since he had seen with what fierceness Clarinda had taken Peregrine's Interest; he was vexed for having spoken ill of him before her. The hurt he had given her was not much to his advantage neither; he had no other hopes therefore, but in what the Officer had related; That his young Prisoner confessed he hated Peregrine, and was come into the Camp, on purpose to kill him: He built his hopes barely upon that weak bottom, which in time he hoped might again reclaim her.  
The whole Army was getting in a readiness for a general Assault, which they designed to begin at the covered way; the signal being given by the discharge of three Canons, and one Bomb that broke in the Air. The young Count took this opportunity to do some Action worthy himself, and the fair Clarinda; so he put himself amongst the Volunteers: They all March to the Assault, with that undauntedness end courage, that the Enemy not being able to endure the onset, immediately gave way, at the Imperial, the Saxon, and the Bavarian Attacks. The Enemy, a while after, having rallied, and taken new Posts on both sides, as well as in Front, their Firing was so great and continual, during some Hours, that it is impossible to apprehend the least Idea of it. The Confederate Army was near two Hours exposed to all their Enemies Shot, without any covering on the Glacis, joining to the Pallisadoes, not being able to shelter itself, by reason of the Enemies continual Firing upon them, which they endured with a world of bravery; till at last, the Besieged being broken, and pressed upon on all sides, they were forced to give way, but not till they had sprung a Mine, which involved a great number of Men, and four Colours in its Mines; whereupon the Besiegers took their Post on the very brink of the Ditch.  
All the following Night was taken up in continual Skirmishes; the Count had behaved himself so bravely, that particular notice had been taken of him, but he was not to be found neither amongst the living nor the dead: He was changing Ground to come where the warmest Skirmishes was, he over-took two Horsemen that were running from him towards the Gate Altmunster; he dismounted the one, and took the other Prisoner, who readily yielded upon Quarters for Life. The Count was going to deliver his Prisoner into Custody, that he might have some more Skirmishes, when he was surrounded with a small party of Horse, that were getting into the Town, who took him along with them, and his Prisoner also, and bestowed them both safe for the rest of that Night.  
The Count had not been much troubled, had he had the charming Clarinda with him: But the other Prisoner seemed very much concerned, and did all he could not to be seen; they had a Room allotted them, with a Bed in it, and a Sentry sat over them. The Count threw himself on the Bed, and asked his Fellow Prisoner, whither he would do the same, adding, that if he had not been retaken from him, he had found him a Generous Enemy; the other returned him thanks, saying, he had more a mind to sit up, still turning his Face, that the Count might not see it. The Count, a while after, cried out, ha! dear Clarinda, that you were but here safe and well. Those Words confirmed the other Prisoner, in the opinion, that he knew the Count, so that afterwards he was more shy than ever of showing his Face; there we will leave them for a short time, to return to the amazed Peregrine, that could not yet reconcile himself to those surprising Accidents, that so lately had happened to him; still did his mind run on Mariana's being there, concealed, unwilling he should know of her, concluding, that none but she, or his dear Clarinda, returned from the dead, could act as had been done. Clarinda, dear Clarinda▪ then cried he out, If it is thy Spirit that is still so Officious to me after Death, bless me but with one short sight of thee, I am sure thou canst not assume any shape can affright thy distracted Peregrine; but if I could behold thee with all those real Charms about thee, which thou once wore, though they were now but mere Delusions, I should die with Excess of Joy! Thus was he continuing in his Transports, when News was brought him that divers Prisoners had been taken in the last Assault, but that the Enemy had posted themselves very Advantageous, and had repulsed the besieged very far. Peregrine, who had given those Orders, that when they heard of any Prisoners, they should give him notice; sent the Servant to make inquiry of their Names, as well as he could, and that to oblige them to declare their Names, they should say it was one Peregrine desired it.  
Amongst the other places, that this Messenger was at, he came to that, where the Count was, with his Fellow Prisoner, where he found them both very unwilling to tell their Names, till after he had named Peregrine, he observed the Count to rise off of the Bed, and say, how, Peregrine? Where is that Person? Who answered, not far in the Town, and then began to tell the Count all that he knew of him, adding, that certainly he was a Devil, or some Conjurer, for, said he, when he was locked up in his Chamber, without one farthing towards his Ransom of an hundred Pistols. The next Morning, when the Door was opened, he had two hundred Pistols, with which he discharged all he owed, and now remains full of Gold, which it is thought the Devil brings to him, by the Window, or down the Chimney. This did not a little trouble the Count, but the other Prisoner, was not less concerned at this Narrative, yet would not discover his Surprisal before the Count, but taking the opportunity, when the Messenger was going out, he desired him to tell the Gentleman, that there was a Prisoner, who belonged to a Lady, named Clarinda, that would be glad to see him, if he could contrive it. The Messenger, well satisfied with what he had done, returned home, and gave Peregrine an Account of his discovery: Peregrine, had no sooner heard the charming word Clarinda, but he immediately sent back the Messenger, rewarding him well, and charged him to know what Ransom was set upon that Prisoner; he went, and returned not long after, to tell Peregrine, that fifty Pistols, paid presently, would set him free; they were immediately sent, and the Prisoner set at Liberty, to go where he pleased, who went along with the Messenger, to Peregrine's Lodging; and the Count having lost his Companion, was left Disconsolate, all alone. The fear of having the Town taken by Storm, was the Cause of this Prisoner's going off with ready Money; for it was verily believed that such another Assault would certainly carry it.  
The late Prisoner being brought into Peregrine's Chamber, he got to his Bedside, and began to return him thanks, for the Ransom he had been so kind to pay for him; assuring him, that so soon as Clarinda should come to the knowledge of it, she would return it him with hearty thanks, because he was a Servant, for whom Clarinda had always a particular Kindness. At this, Peregrine, fetching a deep sigh from the bottom of his Heart, answered, Then do your Office, repay me of your Ransom, in sending me immediately to wait on that fair Saint, you just now named; and to invite you the more to do that piece of singular Service, to the Memory of your dear Mistress, know, I have murdered her, at that the Person started, and cried, Heavens forbid! Yes, replied Peregrine, I am an expert Murderer, I need no Weapons, nor Poisons, to act with all, I can do it with a bare Letter, nay, even when I have no such Thoughts, Mischief is so natural to me. Pray recollect yourself, replied Clarindas' Servant, you speak as if you were not well, in your Mind; Whence do you derive that fancy of Clarindas' Death? Is it because you have not heard from her lately? Or, do you believe that you are dead in her Heart, and that consequently she may be counted dead as to you? If any such thing were, I yet might live and hope; Peregrine answered, but she is really: dead; Oh, unspeakable Grief! I have it from good Hands, a Friend of the unfortunate Count; therefore, an Enemy to me, has certified it to me; and, upon that, has vowed my Death, but is not so kind as to come and give it me; but now, you are here, do that which Justice, Revenge, and Duty, aught to prompt you to, Kill, kill, that miserable Wretch, that has had the Confidence to survive her so long. Clarindas' Servant, at these Words, let himself fall upon the Bed, saying, in a low voice, unfortunate Clarinda, and miserable Mariana; Die Mariana, why shouldst thou live to hear such doleful News, with that, he sounded quite away; at those last Words, Peregrine, who was set up, in his Bed, looking steadfast on the Person's Face, Mariana, said he, take a little of this to stay thee, till thou takest me along with thee, giving her a little Cordial, out of a Bottle, which he had by him; after which, he did all he could besides, to recover her, without the Assistance of any body else, because of her Sex. Frederick had overheard all, and was so moved at his dear Mariana's Trouble, that he was coming out to discover himself, when he heard her fetch a great sigh; after which, she came to herself again, saying, Pray Heavens you may have been abused; that Happiness cannot be hoped for, replied Peregrine, I should certainly have heard of her, I that have sought her in all places. At this, Mariana did shed a flood of Tears, and Peregrine sent forth whole gales of Sighs; after which, Peregrine gave Mariana an Account of all his Actions, since his Absence; and how oft he had sought Death, but was not so happy as to meet with it: Heavens forbid, said Mariana, poor Clarindas' Death, added she, is more to be attributed to her Passion, and Rashness, than to your Cruelty; and I must confess, that my Imprudence, has been Instrumental also; with that, she gave him an Account of all that had happened to Clarinda, and to herself, since Clarindas' departure. Thus, after a long Discourse, what with Grief, and Weariness, poor Mariana, fell a sleep, at Peregrine's Beds Feet, which obliged him to do the like, not long after.  
This silence did somewhat appease Frederick's disturbed Mind, at both those dear Friends Afflictions: He was very desirous to Accomplish what he had begun, and did hope that they would continue their Sleep, till Night, at which time, he intended to perform the last act of his Tragicomedy; and from that time, he began to prepare himself for it, and it luckily happened that they both did sleep, till there was Candles brought into the Chamber, that did awake Peregrine, who gave order that no noise should be made, and that a Fowl should be got ready for Supper; as for Mariana, she slept on till Supper was brought up, she having had no sleep, in two Nights before; and Peregrine would by no means disturb her, but let her awake of herself. He invited her to cat, but she excused herself, telling him, that she never more should enjoy herself; he could not so much as make her drink a Glass of Wine; thus they both sat, Peregrine, in the Bed, and Mariana, on the side of it, looking dolefully, on each other, not knowing what to say; Ah! That my dear Clarinda was here at last, said Mariana, than you would have no cause to invite me to eat, or drink; that is a bit she used to love, added she, pointing at some part of the Fowl; her Ghost, would suffice me, said Peregrine, or, at least, that sweet Picture, which is vanished from me. Frederick, hearing this, came softly, and laid the Picture upon the Bed; a little while after, Peregrine, having leaned towards Mariana, till his Arm ached, turned, to sit up, and saw the Picture lie before him; he takes it up, kisses it, and cried, see Mariana, the Heavens grow kind, and have sent me my Desires: Heavens! How comes this to pass? Replied, poor Mariana, as affrighted, sure, you had not looked for it well! 'Tis like, it has never been off of the Bed, but engaged in some of the foldings of the Bed-Cloths; none of all that, dear Mariana, replied Peregrine, this Paper left in the room of it, with the Gold, expresses otherwise, read it; he gave her the Paper, in which she read, as he had done before; then, she added, sure, this is her own hand, or I am the most mistaken in the World! Why may not her Hand be imitated, added Peregrine, as well as Bodies be assumed by kind obliging Spirits, and appear? The one is as feasible, as the other; those are strange things, Mariana, continued he: they much surprise me, said Mariana, who stood in a kind of Amazement; How would you be then, said Peregrine, if her sweet Ghost, should instantly appear? Ah! would it would; yet, no, added he, it would affright you too much: No, I believe not, answered Mariana, I know not what it might do, if I was alone, but you being here:— Drink to me, Mariana, drink her Health, I'll pledge it, though 'twas Poison, said Peregrine,— He was going to proceed, when Clarinda, appeared, coming up close to the little Table, by the Bedside, on which the Supper was laid.  
She had put a Linen Cloth, over her Head, which hung over her Face, down to her upper Lip; and she had put over that, a large white Sheet, which she had tied of a bunch, at the top of her Head, which covered her all over, but the Face; she had, besides, a Glass of Wine, in each Hand; she stood a while, without moving, before them, at which, Mariana, wrapped herself round, in the Curtain, making a great shriek; but Peregrine sat gazing, with a Countenance that expressed a great disorder; after that, Clarinda, who had stood without motion, stooped towards Peregrine, offering one of the Glasses of Wine, which he refused to take, pulling himself back; with that, she sat one of the Glasses on the Table, then standing up straight, Is this the Man, said she, would drink my Health, in Poison? Why have I disturbed my sweet rest, in hopes to see such constancy, after Death, in one I loved, and be thus disappointed? I must return again, with this certain Truth, there is no Faith in Man; Adieu, fond Morals, adieu, for ever more; at these last Words, as she was turning, Hold, cried Peregrine, Though thou canst not be Clarindas' Ghost, for that would know me better, I will drink the Poison, give me the Glass; Ghost, stay, added he, and take me with you, or go tell Divine Clarinda, how thou seest me take that Pass which is to convey me to her; with saying this, he took the Glass from Clarinda, and raising his voice, Here's to Clarinda, whom I still Adore, said he, and drank up the Wine. I should not have pronounced that Name, continued he, after drinking, it may prove an Antidote, beyond the power of the most virulent Poison, and prevent my flight to her; it has, for certain, much bettered the Taste. Clarinda,— added he, at which, she lifting off the Sheet, and Cloth, which covered her Face, she appeared, in a Dress, which Peregrine had formerly seen. Constant, and Faithful, Peregrine, here is thy Clarinda, she is wholly thine, said Clarinda; with that, inclining on the Bed, she took him by the Hand, pressing it hard, and kissed his frighted Cheeks; feel, said she, I am thy warm Clarinda, living still, to die in thy sweet Bosom: But where's dear Mariana? Alas, poor Soul, frighted, I fear, too much; Come, my dèar Mariana, and enjoy, once again, thy poor Clarinda. Fear not, I am really she, with that, she unfolded the Curtains, which Mariana, held no longer so hard: Mariana; it is she, cried out Peregrine, the living Clarinda; What Wonders do I see! What Joys possess my Heart! They crowd in here too fast, with that, he sunk down in a swoon: Clarinda having embraced her dear Mariana, and assured her of her life, with a thousand warm Kisses, which the still discomposed Girl, returned again, so well as her late fears would permit her: Clarinda, casting an Eye, on Peregrine, and perceiving him fallen backwards, with his Eyes closed, help, Mariana, cried she, assist me to preserve my second Life, Peregrine is not well; they both busied themselves, to raise him up again, at which, he came to himself: That Men should die, with too much Joy, said he.  
I beg your Pardon my dear Peregrine, said Clarinda, for that great share I have had in producing all your Sorrows and Griefs, when you'll please to consider 'twas the effects of my Passions towards you, which plunged me into a severe Jealousy, and deep Despair, at the sight of that fatal English Letter: You will, I know, be so good as to pardon the results of that Rage, which had so entirely possessed me. Peregrine made answer, That his imprudence in keeping that Letter, (which he ought to have burnt, since he valued it not,) being the first cause of all those Miseries he had suffered since, he ought to pass by other lesser Errors. But, added he, How came you to the understanding of it? Who was your Interpreter? I fear he did not do me Justice. Clarinda answered, When I have eat and drank with you, to confirm you further I am no Ghost, (though I have almost lived like one these two Days,) than I shall give my Peregrine that satisfaction, with a full account of all has happened to me since you went from us: With that they sat themselves to eat, which Clarinda did very heartily. They had several little pickeering of Wit with one another, which diverted them during Supper; after which, Peregrine, contriving within himself how Clarinda and Mariana should be disposed on that Night, Clarinda took notice of his musing; What possesses your Thoughts now? said she; To know where you and Mariana shall lie this Night; or rather where I shall retire, answered Peregrine, for i'll quit you my Bed, I find it now grows late. It does, said Clarinda; wherefore I shall leave my Narrative till Morning. Mariana and I, will leave you to your Repose, which I hope will now be sweet and long to you; and we will retire to that Elysium, where I kept, while thought dead; there is a little Couch will hold us both. Not so, replied Mariana; do you go into Bed, and i'll sit up: But where is this Enchanted place, so near, yet so invisible? Here, said Clarinda, (stepping towards the Closet, and taking up the Hanging,) within the reach of all you said: Come Mariana, added she, and see the Grave in which I was buried alive: They both went into the Closet, where after they had remained a while, Peregrine having slipped on his Gown, and leaning on a Stick, came halting in, saying, He was resolved that Night to lie in Clarinda's Grave: with that he laid himself down on the Couch, and by no entreats nor persuasions could be got off again; telling them, That he would pass the rest of that Night in that place. Clarinda finding him obstinate, took out of the Closet all that was convenient for her and Mariana, that Night, with a Nightgown for Mariana, and one of her Mantua's for her to put on the next Morning.  
No Servants had come near them all that Evening and Night, because Peregrine had frequently given strict Orders that no body should come to him, except they heard him knock; so that they had no disturbance on that side; and having took leave of one another, they all composed themselves to sleep.  
The next Morning, Clarinda and Mariana being up, and in their Night-Dresses, went to see how Peregrine had past the Night; they found by his cheerful looks, and hearty answer, that he was much improved as to his Health and Strength. How could I do amiss, said he, having my Titular Angel so near me; and lying in my Clarinda's sweet Monument? After a while, as they were returning into the Chamber, Mariana making a false step, fell down, but did not hurt herself; one of the Servants hearing the noise, and believing Peregrine knocked, came into the Chamber, where espying no Man in Bed, and two Gentlewomen dressing themselves, he presently run down again; telling the Mistress, that certainly the Devil haunted that Chamber; for in lieu of finding a Lame▪ Man in Bed, there was two fine Gentlewomen dressing themselves at their Glasses; let who will go there for me hereafter, added he, i'll not go to the Devil so often. A while after, the Ladies wanting Water, knock in good earnest, but no body came to them; they repeated the knocking, and finding it was to no purpose, Mariana stepped to the Stair-head, and aloud asked, Whether there was no body in the House? At which the People below Stairs were all mute, but one Maid bolder than the rest, said, she would see these Hobgobling, at what rate soever, so went up Stairs, and Mariana returning into the Chamber, where the Maid following her, she was told they wanted Water, and desired they should be a little better attended, assuring her, the Servants should not lose their labour. The Maid made her excuses, and laid the fault upon the impertinency of a silly Fellow in the House, who ever since the Gentleman that lay there before, had the Gold brought to him so strangely, did take all that was done in that Room for Enchantments; that he had run down Stayrs, so soon as he had peeped into the Chamber, and said, he had seen there, he knew not how many Devils in Woman's Apparel, dressing themselves: which made Clarinda smile to herself: Then did the Maid tell them, that at the least Call she would run up to wait on them, or the Gentleman either, if he was there still, as she supposed he was not, there being but one Bed. Clarinda, to undeceive her, and to take away all suspicions, brought her to the Closet, where she showed her Peregrine in Bed: This is the place, said she, out of which came the Gold, and all the other Enchantments, I being in it all that while, who came here at first, in the habit of a Gentleman, to pass with more safety through the Army, that then was gathering about this place: Pray satisfy your Mistress, and all other Persons of this Truth. The Maid, making a Courtesy, went away well satisfied, and did according as Clarinda had commanded her; so that the next time they knocked for any thing, they were waited upon by the Mistress of the House, who made a great many Apologies, and gave great Assurances of her future attendance. Clarinda informed her of all she thought fit she should know, and so dismissed her.  
The Confederates great advantage which they had got over the Besieged, in the late Assault, caused the Governor, who was the Marquis of Vxelles, to call a grand Council of War; in which it was concluded, That considering the great loss which they had sustained in this last Attack, the great Advantages with which the Enemies had posted themselves, which was very difficult to regain, and the great want of Ammunition they were in, having not above 4 C▪ weight of Powder left, together with the great number of Sick and Wounded, and the small hopes of Relief, that the white Flag should be hung out, which was done that very Morning, about eight of the Clock, and a Parley was beaten, in order to Capitulate. Prince Albert of Saxe-Cornbourg, who Commanded that Day in the Trenches, on the side of the Imperial Attack, sent a Trumpet to the Besieged, to know their meaning. To which was answered, That the Governor was inclined to give up the Garrison; that if the Duke of Lorraine would be pleased to send the Governor a lieutenant-colonel, with an other Officer; to discourse with them about Conditions, he would send into their Camp Hostages of the same quality. Whereupon the Prince sent his aid Major to consult with the Duke of Lorraine, and they agreed to the governor's desires, upon condition, that he should first send his two Officers. Whereupon the Duke of Lorraine sent into the City the Prince de Commercy, and Lieutenant Colonel Princj; after which there was a Cessation of Arms betwixt both-Parties, and the Treaty fully concluded before Night.  
Count Mansfeilt all this while had not remained Idle, by the aid of divers Messengers he had found out Peregrine's Lodgings, and had got the Servant, who was with him before, to come to him again: He inquired of him how Peregrine did? What Company he had with him? And whether he stirred abroad yet? The Fellow, who was the same that had been so frighted, told him, That now all the Devils which haunted him before, were all turned into Gentlewomen, that were very tame and gentle indeed, wondrous fine and handsome; and that, that very Prisoner, whose Ransom he had paid, by the wounded Gentleman's Orders, was turned to a Gentlewoman also. This account gave the Count cause to consider, he apprehended that this was Clarinda, who he had taken, which he had not known in the dark; he began to think how shy that Person was of showing his Face, how he refused lying down with him, with abundance more; from all which he fully concluded it was Clarinda, that he had so tamely parted with, to his Mortal Enemy; this put him into such a rage, that he was almost distracted; he lay continually sighing and groaning on the Bed, and would neither eat nor drink. While the Fellow was still with him, the Person who had took him, came to tell him, He must find out a sudden way to pay his Ransom, which he resolved not to lose. To which the Count made no answer, but that he was his Prisoner, he might do what he pleased with him. That gave but little satisfaction to the Officer, who was grumbling very hard; which made the Fellow run home as fast as he could; he told his Mistress, that the other Prisoner that had been taken with the Man-Gentlewoman, that was above Stairs, was like to be killed by him who had taken him, for want of his Ransom. The Mistress of the House, fancying that he might be known by the Gentlewoman, went up Stairs to give notice of it: At which Mariana cried out, alas! this is the Count, who I told you was taken with me. How, a Count, said the Landlady, that will bring a good lump of Mony. No, no, replied Clarinda, it is a Volunteer, whose Name is le Count: so it was turned off, and the Landlady was desired to know what Ransom was demanded for him. Mean time Clarinda and Mariana went into the Closet to consult about it with Peregrine, saying, now you have a fair opportunity to rid yourself of your Rival, the Count; so told him to what a sad condition he was reduced. Why sends he not to his Friends in the Camp, to let them know his condition, said Peregrine. There's the mischief of it, said Mariana, with what this Fellow has put in his Head, that the Person he had taken was a Woman in man's Apparel, and believing it was you doubtless, (speaking to Clarinda) he is in a Despair, for having parted so tamely with you. Heavens forbid, that we should not assist him, if we can, said Peregrine; though he will not help himself, the more need has he of our aid. Still spoken like generous Peregrine. He shall be releaved, and presently too, said Clarinda, since my dear Friend has said it. Some time after the Fellow returned, saying, he refused all aid, assistance, or comfort, except he knew from whom it came. This made Peregrine say, unfortunate Gentleman! There is nothing but this rich Jewel, but I would part with, added he, taking Clarinda by the hand, to serve him with: But what is his Ransom? The Fellow said, The Office● had told him something was better than nothing; and that seeing the Article● would be signed that Night for the delivery of the Town, in which might be comprised the releasing of all Prisoner's o● both sides, he would be contented with what he could get. Then said Clarinda I must get you Mariana to go with Forty Pistoles, which I will give you; and give twenty for his Ransom, and give him the rest to defray his present Necessities, as if all this came from yourself, taking no notice in the least of us two▪ otherwise, peradventure he would refuse it. Mariana readily accepted the Commission, and prepared to go with the Fellow, after Clarinda had given her the Gold. Mean time did Clarinda give Peregrine an account of all her misfortunes, since they had been separated, not forgetting his Friend's Civility towards her, and her Rancounter with the Count  
While she was thus relating her Story to him, News was brought that there was one below, who would spoke with Peregrine; he ordered him to be brought up, and it proved to be his honest Groom. So soon as the Articles had been signed, inquiry had been made about the Prisoners of Note, and Count Zinzendorf, having notice thereof, had sent this Fellow to learn News of his Master: The Fellow being come, and perceiving his Master smile; 'Tis well you're found, at last, Master, said he, there has been a foul stir about you, no body knew what was become of you; and after I told your Friends how I had found poor Crop, meat for Crows, they all concluded you dead; dead, said I, he has other Fish to fry, I warrant you; D'ye think that a Man has nothing else to do, that has a Sweetheart? He's gone to Ferret her out, I'll warrant you; and now I find I guessed well, faith Master, or she has serrited you out. Well, I'm glad to see thee again, old Boy, answered Peregrine; How does all things whence you come? With that, he gave him this Account; Your three Horses, and three Servants, are all well, as you see, at this present, and all present their Service to you; and Count Zinzendorf send me to tell you, that you should send him word, whither you were dead or alive; is so, that he would order all your Trinckoms to be sent to you; for now the Rogues are weary of fight, Honest Folks may go about their Business again: Well, continued he, I am woundely mistaken, if this Gentlewoman-Gentleman, was not the same body that gave me that plaguy Letter (a Pox on't) that made you run out of your Wits; if the truth was known, has played more tricks than are good, I'll warrant you, and I fear 'tis for no good he's here; pray let's search him, Master: Clarinda, and Peregrine, could not but laugh, at the Fellows Bluntness: Come, come, let's see your Hand, added he, I'll tell you your Fortune, she pulled off her Glove, and showed the Palm of her Hand, thinking he would tell her Fortune; but the Fellow presently said, I'll a none of your tricks put upon me; let see the backside of it? She having turned it, and he having espied the Plaster; there's the mark of the Beast, cried he, that's he (though now turned to a Woman) that let himself be taken, on purpose, as he declared, to cut your Throat, as I have been well informed, by the Officer's Man; and for rage, he could not find you, had like to have made a Scieve, of a Count's Belly, but that a was a little too nimble for him, and gave him that Remembrance, which he carries yet; Pray Master, let's search him, I say? No, no, replied Peregrine, I'll engage this Lady is no Man, but thou hast guessed pretty right, as to the rest: Nay, nay, if you have searched her, you know better than I, I am sattisfied: Well then, added he, What shall I say to the Count, and the rest of your Friends: Tell them, answered Peregrine, that I am well; and that the desperate young Gentleman is well also, added Clarinda; at Clarindas' speaking, let your betters be first served, said the Fellow, my Master began first; this was very pleasant to them: Well, go thy ways, added Peregrine, tell all my Friends, I hope to see them here▪ in good Health; and do you, and your Comrades, return to me again, presently, with my Equipage, if it will be permitted. You'll give me leave to drink a Pot of Wine first, said the Fellow; two and thou wilt, answered Peregrine, but be not drunk▪ There honest Fellow, said Clarinda, giving him Money, go drink thy Master's Health, and mine, I love thee for being honest and true to thy Master, with that, the Fellow made a Leg, and went his way, telling his Master, he'd go dispatch his Business.  
Mariana, mean time, was come to the Count, who was much surprised at the sight of her; he forced himself to be civil to her; she told him, she had heard of his Misfortune, and was come to offer him all the aid, and assistance, that lay in her Power; he thanked her, coldly, and told her, he should not be long there; for either, in the Capitulations, the Prisoners would be exchanged, or released, on both sides, or a Ransom paid for him; mean time, that he was resolved to suffer, for he did not care what became of him; this he concluded, with a deep sigh, which drew Tears from Mariana's Eves. But, Sir, said she, I come with a Ransom, from the Person you had taken, who thinks it due to you, though he was after that retaken with you also: I know, I had Clarinda in my Possession, but not so fortunate as to keep her; the Crossness of my Stars, do still pursue me, and interpose their fatal Influences, 'twixt me, and my Happiness. In that particular, you are mistaken, Sir, you never had her in your Power, 'twas I, Sir, you pursued, took, and then lost again: How! said the Count, and was it not Clarinda? No Count, answered Mariana, I can give you such an exact account of every particular of the Business (besides the kill of her Servant) as would convince you: And is she not in Mentz? Answered the Count: Sir, I say not so:— There he interrupted her, saying, and in my happy Rivals Possession: No, I assure you Count, answered Mariana, she is absolute Mistress of herself still: If I was sure of that,— he there was interrupted, by the insolent Officer, who had taken him, who came to insult over-him▪ with two or three more, like himself: I come for Money, Sir, said he, going up to the Count: Prithee Friend, take my Life, thou wouldst do me a Kindness, for 'tis a Burden to me, so heavy, as I am not able any longer to bear: Mariana, seeing the 〈…〉 ere going to apply themselves to the Count, she pulled the Officer by the Sleeve; and having told him, it did not become him, nor those others, to insult so, over a Person in Affliction: What will content you? Here, said she, take this, and deliver me your Prisoner: The Officer (having felt in his Hand the weight and bulk of twenty Pistols) made no answer, but coming up to the Count, Sir, you are free, said he, and I am your humble Servant: Come, added he, to his Friends, I have no longer any concern with him; let us depart, and let him go where he pleases, with that they went their way. You, Mariana, are kind, said the Count, but much more you would be, in letting me have a sight of fair Clarinda. Sir, all that is in my Power, you may command, answered Mariana; Clarinda is Mistress of her own Actions, and of so good a temper, that I'll engage, she will do you all the Justice she can possible, so soon as things are settled; mean time, Sir, I earnestly entreat you to take Care of yourself; and, in order to that, be pleased to make use of those few Pistols; with that, for fear of farther Interrogations▪ she went her ways, giving the Count▪ Compassionate Look, and left the Pistols on the Table, and the Count to do what he pleased with them.  
The Count, so soon as Mariana was gone, took the Gold, and with it went to an Inn, where he got a Messenger to go to Count Zinzendorf in the Camp. He after that, began to reflect with a more composed mind, than ever he had done before, on all his Concerns; he dwelled much on Mariana's kindness to him; he believed that she had all along been his Friend; he fancied he could make that out from her Actions, and something in her looks: Of truth, Mariana was of a very compassionate Temper, apt to side with any Person in Affliction; she had looked on the Count, when she left him, with a Countenance full of tenderness, in the Opinion that the Count had no hopes left now of ever possessing Clarinda; for though she had said true, that she was still at her own disposal, yet she knew her thoughts so well, that she was certain none but Peregrine would carry her. Clarinda and she were near related, had been brought up, and Educated together; and her Portion, which had been left in Clarinda's Father's hands, at the Death of her Father and Mother, while she was yet very young, had increased to very near the Sum of Clarinda's, and her Beauty not much inferior; so that she was as Clarinda's Companion, and they loved one another intimately. All these things running in the Count's mind, he thought himself obliged to Mariana's Bounty, and that he ought to requite all her Favours in an handsome manner, and in that resolution he remained, till the Town was Surrendered.  
The Articles were; That the next day the Confederates should have possession given them of St. Jacob's Tower, and of the Gau-Gate; that they should send five thousand Men to possess themselves of it; that the next Day after, early in the Morning, the French Garrison should march out of the place, with six pieces of Cannon, two Mortars, with the Arms of France, and as many Carts and Wagons as were necessary to carry their Baggage, with their Colours flying, Drums beating, lighted Matches, and to be guarded to Landau, with a Convoy of ten Thousand Men of the Imperialists.  
These Articles did very much displease the Soldiers, who had all along been very desirous to take the City by Storm, to be revenged of those perfidious Incendiaries the French, as they termed them.  
Peregrine's Men were got into the Town, and had given an account of these things to him from Count Zinzendorf, who had sent him word also, that he should be with him the next day: whereupon Peregrine fearing some Disorders might happen, as there is usually in such Affairs, so soon as Mariana was returned, he caused the Chamber-Door to be continually locked, and his Three Men to be in constant waiting at it. He after that endeavoured all he could to stand upon his Leg, and he found that he gathered much strength by it, so that by the next day he was able to walk, with the aid of a Staff. Both he and Clarinda inquired of Mariana, how the Count did, and how he had received their Civilities, or yours rather, said Clarinda: very indifferently, answered Mariana; I was forced to leave the Gold on the Table before him, and to go abruptly from him, for fear he should have returned it me: How does he look? Said Peregrine; very dismayed, answered Mariana, full of trouble, so that I could not but pity him very much: I wish, said Clarinda, you had the Power, dear Mariana, to change all his Sorrows into Love, of thee I mean: I fear, said Peregrine, that who ever has once loved Clarinda, can never be capable of any other Love: I am of your mind, replied Mariana: I am not, said Clarinda; he never loved to an excess; and I believe there has been more of Obstinacy and Revenge, in his Conduct towards me, than o● sincere Affection, so that he will easily be diverted by some other Object, when he is once passed all hopes: Pray wave this Discourse, replied Mariana, and let us speak of other things: Agreed, said Peregrine; but first give me leave to say, that next to seeing my dear Clarinda entirely mine, past all Disputes, I heartily could wish, the Count so happy as to be in full Possession of the obliging Mariana; from this they fell into various Discourses, with which they passed the rest of that Morning: After Dinner, they desired Mariana to give them, in a continued Story, the Course of her Life, since they had been separated, which they had not heard yet, but by pieces; Mariana, having assented to their Request, thus began.  
After you had been two days gone, and that the Servants you had sent back, had assured me of your safe getting into the Town, and of your Father's Death, and Burial; I every moment expected, with great impatiency, to hear from Peregrine, in what place of safety he was retired, that I might send you word, if possible, which I much dispaired to do, when I heard how difficult it was for any one to get into the Town, since the Confederates had laid a formal Siege before it. I was out of all hopes of hearing from him also, and was very willing to lay the fault on any thing else, than on his neglect, though I believed it more easily to have heard from him, than to have sent to you; this made me apprehend that he might have fallen into some Disaster. I was in those fears, when a Party of the Imperialists, came to the Castle, where they acted a great deal of Rudeness, not only towards my old Aunt, and myself, but every one of the Servants were made sensible of their Insolences; and the worst was, that when I had made my Complaints to the Officer, under pretence of taking me into his Protection; he offered things to me, beyond what I could tamely endure, so that I was forced to Repulse him with fury: mean time: the Soldiers did ransack all the Castle, taking what they thought convenient to carry along with them, not sparing my poor Aunt's Chamber, which put her into such a fright, that I verily believe much contributed to her Death presently after. They were not contented with that, but went to the Stables, where they exchanged their worse Horses for ours, and took away the rest. When they had done all the mischief they could, except firing, they left us to condole our Misfortunes; I found my poor Aunt in so lamentable a Condition, that she looked then as if she had been dead; so soon as she was recovered from her fright, so much as would permit her to speak, she said, Let us begun, good Niece, as far as we can from these merciless Devils, before another Party of them come to make an end of us; Where shall we go, dear Aunt? I answered her; to my Farm, said she, which is Twenty miles further from Mentz; I told her she would scarce be able to endure the fatigue of so long a Journey, especially on Horseback, and there was then no other conveniency to be had; but she said, she had rather choose to die by the way, than be again frighted, as she had been before, which would certainly procure her Death: We therefore, the very next morning, very early, set forwards, with all they had left us, that was carriable; but though we went but slowly, considering we fled, my poor Aunt was so much fatigated, that she fell sick of a Fever, of which she died, the day after we came to the Farm; she by her Will, parted all she had betwixt us two; she left to my Cousin, your Brother, a Legacy, in case he were alive, which, if he was not, was to return to us. I took Care to have her decently buried, according to her Quality, as well as I could; after which, I gave myself up to lament her loss, and your Absence. I remained so, till hearing no News of either of you, and being in Despair of having any, I inquired of all the Men Servants, which would be so Courageous, as to attempt the getting into Mentz, with me, to learn what was become of their young Mistress; your own Groom was the readiest to answer, but your Brother's Falconer was the most forward to attend me; he only asked, When I would set forward? I told him, the next day; he said no more, but got all things in Readiness, both for me, and himself, and coming to me the next morning: Are you ready, Madam? Said he: Why? Answered I, Have you got every thing, as it should be? Every thing, answered he, even to one, of my young Master's Suits, which he was pleased to bestow on me, when he went into Hungary; for I believe it impossible for a Woman to get through so many rude Men, without receiving some Affronts: I readily accepted his Kindness, assuring him I should gratify, him for that, and all his other Troubles and Civilities; and in Conclusion, I goton Horseback, accoutred like an absolute Cadett, and he like my Servant, both well provided with Arms.  
Our Design was to get into the Camp, where we were to inquire after Peregrine, and so to have conversed with him, how to have proceeded; but when, after a long search, we had no other News of him, but that it was believed he was killed, because his Horse had been found dead, with a Shot; we then resolved to attempt the getting into the Town, as Deserters, so soon as possible we could; to that purpose, we were in the Night time, getting as close as we could to the Wall, when we were espied by a single Horseman, who making after us, shot at us, and killed the poor Falconer; I perceiving him fall, fearing that my turn would be next, slacked my pace, and turning my Horse, cried, I yield, save my Life, and you shall have a Ransom; my pursuer seemed satisfied with that, and was going to secure me, from an escape, when we were presently surrounded with a Party of Horse, that was retiring into the Town, which took us along with them. You have heard since, how it proved to be the Count, that had taken me Prisoner, but how he happened on me, or what he was doing there, I am still to learn.  
Thus did Mariana put an end to her Narrative; they spent the rest of the day, in contriving how Peregrine should meet with his Friends, and how they shall dispose of themselves, after things were setiled again in the Town; Mariana said, That she longed to see them all safe returned to their own homes: What say you to it, Madam, said Peregrine, Must I return to my own home also? That would be too far a Journey for you to perform at once, replied Clarinda; you shall rest yourself some time, at the Castle; and then I must begun, added Peregrine: Goodness, cried Clarinda, you are such a troublesome Man, you shall stay there till you are sent away: That may be the next day after, Madam, answered Peregrine, or so soon as your Brother returns, if you do not anticipate him in that employ: Shall I propose an expedient, said Mariana, that will salve all? Let's hear it, answered Clarinda: Nay, will you stand to it, added Mariana, I assure you, before hand, it shall be to both your Like, and Advantages? I will stand to it, cried Peregrine, irrevocably: What say you, Madam? added he, to Clarinda: Upon Mariana's assurance, I care not if I do: Give me your Hands to the Bargain, said Mariana; with that she took both their Hands, and joined them together, saying, Marry, without delay: Spoken like an Angel, cried out Peregrine, with Joy; and finding Clarinda to pull back her Hand, and to look surprised: Nay, Madam, added he, it is too late to draw back, we have your consent: I did not think, said Clarinda, that Mariana would have served me so; I believed her more firm to my Interests: Can I be more firm to Clarindas' Interest, answered Mariana, than to promote them to the outmost of my Power? What can be more your Interest, than to be inseparably united to what you Love; What is there more Advantageous for you, than to once be fixed in Peregrine's Arms? So fixed, as not to be removed but by Death: All this is true, Madam, added Peregrine, If your Heart does not gainsay your Mouth, add the last of your Blessings, in assenting to what our dear Mariana has so justly proposed? Nay, she cannot deny me for shame, said Mariana; of she should, I should for ever dis-own her for my Friend; but I know she will not, she has too much of Justice, of Sense, and of Love for me, besides what she has for you, Sir, to act against her own Satisfaction, and Quiet; Come, I must have it so, added she, bringing Clarinda, near to Peregrine, and giving her Hand to him once more; Tell him, you are his, and that you will confirm it, by Marriage, with the first opportunity: Well, replied Clarinda, on Condition that you shall not refuse to do that which I shall propose to you, Mariana, I will: Then spoke Clarinda, answered Mariana; spoke to Peregrine, than next to me: Well then, said Clarinda, with a soft sigh, since it must be so, Clarinda is yours, Sir, here is my Hand to it, and so soon as opportunity shall offer itself, I will be Married to you: I leave you to guests at Peregrine's Transports, for I cannot express them: Now, added Clarinda; let me speak to you, Mariana, Love the Count, and endeavour to make him yours: Very well repartied, I'll swear, said Peregrine; and I add, may you by that means be the cause of our perfect Reconciliation: Amen, said Clarinda; nay, if you will all have it so, I say Amen too. After this, Supper was served in; they cat and drank, and were merry; Peregrine walked about the Chamber; and after they had tired themselves, with Mirth, Clarinda, at Peregrine's request, took her Lute, and Sung those Lines, which Peregrine had made; and when it came to the two last, they all in Consort Sang,  

So were they heard, no longer to complain;  
But lived to Love, and loved to Live again.   
Thus they concluded the Evening, after which, they went to their Repose.  
The next Morning, was the Day appointed for the Garrison to March out, and the Confederates to March in, according to the Capitulation that had been made: The imperialists drew up their Army, in two Ranks, by Six in the Morning, to receive their Enemies; divers of the Imperial Cavalry, posted themselves, on the Right of the Gaw-Gate; on the Left side, were chiefly to be seen, the Guards du Corpse, of the Duke of Bavaria; and next to them, those of the Duke of Saxony, with some other Troops of the Imperial Cavalry, and Dragoons; after which, the French began to March out of the City, to the number of 6690 Men, with 572 loaded Horses, 334 Carts, 31 Mules, 43 Light Horsemen, 6 Chairs, 2 Coaches, 1 Litter, 36 Colours, and 10 Standards.  
Besides, there were put into Boats, which had been sent from Strasbourg, with Ammunition for the French, 6 Pieces of Cannon, 2 Mortars, 2 Hawbitz, and 1500 Sick, whereof, some died continually, which they threw over into the Rhine. As the Marquis D'Vxelles marched out of the Garrison, he took his leave of the Duke of Lorraine, of the Elector of Saxony, and of that of Bavaria; as also, of all the rest of the Princes, and Generals; The French declared, that before the Siege, the Garrison consisted of 11000 Men. The time of their March out of the Garrison, was from Seven in the Morning, till Three in the Afternoon; after which, the Allies took Possession of the City. Upon the French marching out, Peregrine, and the two Ladies, got at the top of the House, whence they could very distinctly see the whole Garrison March.  
The Count, on the other hand, upon mature Considerations, had taken now Measures; he was resolved to slight those who slighed him, and to esteem those who valued him; so that now his whole designs were altered, which put him upon writing this Letter to Mariana.  
It has always been counted an ill thing to strive against a too rapid stream; I have too long done so, while I might have swom down easily, with the currant; I have at last found out my obstinacy, in endeavouring to compel Love, not considering that it is as tameless as it is blind; henceforwards, I will endeavour to Love, where I have hopes to be beloved again. I humbly require the beauteous Mariana's Advice, on this point, she being a Person, to whom I acknowledge myself infinitely obliged, and of so sweet a Disposition, as not to refuse her Counsel, to the Unfortunate  
Count Mansfeilt.  
This Letter was, by his Direction, privately conveyed into Mariana's own Hands, by a Maid Servant of the House, who promised to return an Answer safe, if she pleased to give her one: Mariana was strangely surprised, at the reading of this Letter, she did not know well what to make of it, she was loath to flatter herself too much, and as unwilling to take advice of her best Friends, for fear they should think her too conceited of herself, and apt to receive Amorous Impressions; she therefore concluded to consider very maturely on the Business, and then send an Answer as suitable, as she could, to her Modesty, and her Desires; she fancied that her Kindness towards the Count, when abandoned of all, and the commiserating Looks, she cast on him, when she left him last, might have had some kind Influence over his Mind, that seeing he had resolved to take off his Affections from Clarinda, as he seemed to intimate, he might as well have some Thoughts of her, as he had had of Clarinda, to whom, she thought not herself Inferior in Birth, nor not much in Estate, except her Brother should chance to die: These, and many more Thoughts, of the like nature running in her Mind, she resolved to send the Count an Answer, as Modest as she could, which she conceived in these Terms.  
I have always professed myself, a Friend to the afflicted, and so long as I have thought you so, I have been made sensible of your Troubles; but now I find you are in the right way of getting out of your Adversities, I withdraw my pity, you having no further occasion for it; What need a Man ask the way that is in the right road? You have a sufficient Esiate, not to confine you to Match for Riches only, and you want not Sense, to prefer Discretion, good Nature, and Comeliness, to the bare shadow of Beauty. I can therefore contribute no more, than my Wishes for your Happiness, which I desire, as I do that of your humble Servant,  
Mariana.  
When the Count received this, he was in a great perplexity, as to the Nature of Mariana's Answer, till he had read it; he opened it, and read, with that Satisfaction, that made him repeat it over again, though he saw a world of good Nature in it; and he resolved by one Letter more to know the bottom of Mariana's Heart; he was in haste, because he believed that his late Mistress, and his Rival, was so to; and he designed to be before hand with them, that his new choice might appear as a contempt; not doubting of Mariana's Discretion, in keeping the Business Secret, at the least notice, that he desired it should be so; he therefore, gratifying well the Messenger for what he had already done, and promising him a farther Bounty, he sent him immediately back, with this Answer.  
If the obliging Mariana would but nominate any Person, whom she thought would be a proper Subject for my Love, I should think myself extremely obliged to her; but how surprised should I be, with a transport of joy, should she vouchsafe to name herself. My Design is to anticipate Clarindas', and my late Rivals haste, and to be fixed in my choice, before they have concluded theirs: Let my dear Mariana, be so kind, as not to delay sending me word, whether she will accept of my Person and Fortune, that I may thereby be in hopes of possessing her; this requires such haste, and secrecy, as begs for a sudden definitive Answer, to the most impatient  
Count Mansfeilt.  
This was sufficient to inform Mariana, in every particular Circumstance, of the Count's Design; she could not but see that this fit, was the effects of a Contempt and Revenge; she had no time to lose, knowing how forward Clarinda and Peregrine were in their Concerns; she was pleased with the Surprisal, and knew beforehand, that her dear Clarinda, would be exceedingly pleased with it; she verily believed the Count to be Worthy and Just, wherefore, she thought she had no more to do, but to throw herself on his Honour, and to readily embrace the offer; she therefore sent him presently back, this short Answer.  
I put such Confidence in your Word and Honour, that though I might think myself, unworthy your choice, I wholly rely on them both; I therefore resign myself to be your Wife, when e'er you shall think fit to bestow that Honour on,  
Your Humble Servant, Mariana.  
The Count was so fully satisfied, with this short, but full Answer, from Mariana, that he now went about to contrive how he should make this Secret March break out to his greater Credit and Advantage, as well as to his Antagonists Surprisal; so soon as his Kinsman▪ Count Zinzendorf, was marched into the Town, he repaired to him, and the better to disguise his Intentions, he began to harp again on the Picture, which he believed Peregrine had taken from him; Zinzendorf told him, that he had found out where Peregrine lay, that he would go and acquaint Peregrine with what he had said, and he would bring him back his Answer, being very desirous to make a thorough Reconciliation bet wixt them, as being Friend to both, telling him besides, he thought that the best expedient to appease all disputes, between them, concerning Clarinda, would be to have them both stand to her Decision, in making choice of whom she liked best: The Count seemed to give his consent, by saying, Do what you please: So Count Zinzendorf went immediately to find out Peregrine, and to discourse the business with him; he found his Friend in company with Clarinda and Mariana: After the first Embraces and Compliments to the Ladies, as well as to his Friend, who had acquainted him with their Qualities, he took Peregrine aside, to let him understand what Count Mansfeilt had said to him. As for the Picture, said Peregrine, I own I took it from him, and shall restore it him again, when e'er he requires it; but I know of no wrong I ever did him; I had engaged my Affections to this Lady, added he, before I knew any thing of his pretensions, and had had obliging returns from her; and therefore I find not in what I have incurred his displeasure; but if he is pleased to let the Lady decide our difference, I shall readily submit to it: If you please to press the Business to him, that our differences may be ended forthwith, I shall be infinitely obliged to you. Count Zinzendorf, whose business in settling his Quarters, called him another way, made what hast he could back to Count Mansfeilt, and acquainted him with Peregrine's Answer, and did further bring the Count to pitch on a certain Hour the next Day, to meet all together, and there make up all Discords. The Count, who thought himself sure of Mariana, agreed to all; whereupon Count Zinzendorf left him, to send an account to Peregrine of the Hour and Place the Count had named for the Rendezvouz.  
The next Day, at the Hour appointed, all Parties met at Count Zinzendorf's Quarters, where Mariana was sure to make one. Count Zinzendorf broke the Ice, saying, That seeing both Parties were agreed to stand to the Lady's Decision, he humbly entreated her to determine, which of those Gentlemen she would please to make choice of for her Husband. At this Count Mansfeilt cried out, Which Lady do you mean? And stepping up to Mariana, taking her by the Hand, This is the only Lady I desire should speak that Decree. What say you Madam, will you make me so happy, as to make choice of me for your Husband? This he said, looking fixedly on Mariana, and expecting her answer. Yes Sir, answered Mariana, if you please to consent to my choice. With that, the Count kissed her, and said, Bear Witness all, that I take this Gentlewoman, my dear Mariana, to be my Wife; and that I will Marry her so soon as I can get any one to do that Office for us: And now Madam, said he, addressing himself to Clarinda, I have been beforehand with you, you may now make choice of whom you please. Count Zinzendorf, after this, said, All things go very well hitherto; I should be glad to see the rest prosper so well also: My Friend Peregrine, you are now to expect what that Lady will declare. He need not, Sir, answered Clarinda, I have already given myself to him; and now I ratify it before all this Company. At which Peregrine returned her his most humble Thanks.  
There are but two things more to be done, said Count Zinzendorf; you Sir, are to make Restitution of that Picture, which once ●ell to your Lot: Let him keep it, with the Original, now, if he pleases, said Count Mansfeilt, interupting him; I am entirely satisfied, with this Jewel, added he, pressing Mariana by the Hand: Now, for the last, said Count Zinzendorf, I would gladly see a through Reconciliation betwixt you, both my worthy Friends, such as may be as durable as your Lives: It shall not be my fault, I assure you, said Peregrine, offering forwards, towards the Count: Count Mansfeilt, who would not be behind him, in point of good Nature, as the Cause of our Differences is now taken away; I am desirous, that what has passed between us, of Jars, and Animosities, should be forgotten; with that, they both embraced; and, after felicitating one another's Happiness, they all retired to Peregrine's Lodgings, till they had time to get some more convenient for them all.  
FINIS.   

Books newly Printed for Sam. Briscoe, over against Will's Coffee House, in Russel▪ Street, in Covent-Garden.  

1. Wife's Excuse, or Cuckolds make themselves, a Comedy, by Mr. Southern; with a Copy of Verses on the Play, by Mr. Driden.  
2. The Marriage-Hater matched; a Comedy, by Mr. Durfey.  
3. Traitor, a Tragedy; newly revived; Written by Mr. Rivers.  
4. The true Widow, a Comedy; Written by Thomaes Shandwell. Lauri.—  
5. The Lives of the 12 Caesars, the first Emperors of Rome: Written in Latin, by C. Suetonius Tranquillius, and done into English by several Gentlemen of the University of Oxford.  
6. Advice to a young Lord; written by his Father, under these following Heads; Religion, Study and Exercise, Travel, Marriage, House-keeping and Hospitality, of the Court, of Friendship, of Pleasure, and Idleness, of Conversation.  
7. Sir William Temple's Essays.  
8. Ovid's Epistles, Translated by several Hands, adorned with Cuts.  
9 The Works of Horace, Translated by Mr. Creech, of Oxford.  
10. The London-Jilt; or the Female Cuckolds a new Novel.