The Grand SCIPIO, An Excellent new ROMANCE.  
Written in French By Monsieur De VAUMORIERE.  
And Rendered into English by G. H.  
LONDON, Printed for H. Mosely, Tho. Dring, and Hen. Herringman, and are to be Sold at the Prince's Arms in St Paul's Churchyard, at the George in Fleetstreet near St Dunstan's Church, and at the Anchor in the lower Walk in the New-Exchange, 1660.   

To the RIGHT HONOURABLE, The Lady Martha Cary.  
Madam,  
THe Interest I have in the Book offered to your Honour, by transcribing it into English Language, has made me not less careful of its prosperous coming into the World, than the Author that gave it being. In order whereunto, I think I have addressed it to a Lady, so perfect a Parallel to his Princess, that if your Honour favour it, I shall not much apprehend the disadvantage it has received in the aversion, and consequently the more need it stands in of a great protection; I am not ignorant how severe a censure this sort of Writings undergoes from the rigid judgements of some seeming Sages, who look upon them no otherwise then as the Productions and Entertainments of Idleness. But, I confess with submission, I cannot understand with what equity Recreations are allowed to the Body, if those accommodated to the mind be condemned; nor why Music, Peniture, Statuary, Ornament, and Magnificence in Architecture, Gardening, and the like, which certainly in a great measure conduce only to Delight and gratify our Senses, should be plausibly judged of, if the innocent representations of noble Actions, and handsome Conversations, which afford infinite pleasure to the fancy, and extremely recreate the mind, be decried as noxious, or, at best, superfluous. Such Cynics may be pleased to remember that Socrates and Cato have been seen upon the Theatre. But it would be no difficult matter to evince against those morose persons, that Delight is the least advantage redounding from such compositions. For, not to say any thing concerning the Groundwork, which is generally some excellent piece of Ancient History, accurately collected out of the Records of the most eminent Writers of old, the knowledge of which is not to be misprised; the addition of fictitious adventures is so ingenious, the incident discourses so handsome, free, and fitted for the improvement of conversation (which is not undeservedly accounted of greatest importance to the contentment of humane life) the descriptions of the passions so lively & naturally set forth; yea, the Idea of virtue, generosity, and all the qualifications requisite to accomplish great persons, so tightly delineated, that I cannot content myself with giving the French that ordinary commendation of having freed this kind of Writings from the incongruous Chimaerical mixture of extravagancies and imposibilities; but I must also speak it, (though I believe with the envy or regret of many) that they have approved themselves the best Teachers of a noble and generous Morality that are to be met with; not presenting us with a Carcase or Skeleton, but with a living, active, and (as I may so speak) embodied virtue, as far transcending that which is held forth in the gravity and formality of Precepts and Definitions, as a living person does his own Picture, which is destitute of Motion, of which (as a great person observes) the better half of beauty consists, not to be expressed by the Art of the Pencil.  
Now whether the Piece I present to your Honour, deserves to be ranked in the number of those I have Characterised, whether the Author has done justice to SCIPIO, and whether I have been very much injurious to both, is humbly left to your Ladyship's Judgement, which is so authentic, that as all Books which come into your fair hands, find you an exact esteemer of their value; So this must receive its fate from your sentence, and accordingly be to other Readers acceptable, or otherwise. If the Dedication of it seem too presumptuous, I must acknowledge I was induced to it by a natural, and so not easily resistable, inclination; being as well led by an ardour to testify in some manner the generation and esteem I have for things that are excellent by testifying it for a person that is so, as by an Ambition to do the Book the greatest Honour I could by placing your Ladyship's Name before it, and myself by putting before my own, the Title of,  
Madam, Your Honour's most humble and most obedient Servant. G. H.   


The Grand SCIPIO.  
The First Part.  
BOOK I.  
THe emulous contest of Rome and Carthage had now brought the expectations of all the world to an equal balance. These two proud Republics were fight for the Empire of the Universe, whilst all the Nations of the same awaiting the decision of the important war, suspended their homages in the mean time, to render them afterwards to that of these two powers, with whom Victory should side. During this stand of affairs, the event hanging in the hands of Fortune, it happened that the Courts of Africa about Lephi were heard to Echo with Exclamations of joy, and there appeared between 10 and 12000 men approaching in haste and disorder towards the Seashore, and expressing the greatness of their jollity and impatience by such gestures as seemed at the same time very rude, and yet sufficiently becoming. They stretched forth their arms towards the Sea, and being driven by the impetuousness of their precipitant passions in this posture, seemed as if they endeavoured to embrace a Fleet of Ships, which nevertheless was at that time near four Leagues distant from them. But the wind and their Oars in a few moments overcame that way, and rendered them into the Road, where they presently cast anchor; which while they were doing, a person of a very high and martial aspect showed himself upon the prow of a stately Vessel, and this sight did not more quiet the impatience of the Africans, than it augmented their rejoicings. For they lift up their eyes and hands to heaven, and beholding that source of their happiness, they shouted out with one voice (rather by instinct then knowledge) That the Romans were no longer to be dreaded, nor their Scipio esteemed invincible. After which words they resounded forth the famous name of Hannibal, every one pressing forward to do reverence to this grand Personage as soon as ever he was disbarked, (for he it was that occasioned this agreeable confusion;) The eagerness of their great passions, which is always an enemy to order, confounded all such as was requisite to be observed in the reception of this Prince Bomilcar, who commanded the Africans, at length spoke to him; and after the first civilities which he could not perform but in tumult, endeavoured to express such respect to Prince Hannibal, as is patible to so considerable a person in the like occasions. The great Hannibal showed many tokens of friendship to Bomilcar, and having embraced him with a tenderness, whereof his ferocity was not oftentimes very capable, he advised with him concerning what was necessary to be done in order to the peace and glory of Carthage. My Lord (answered Bomilcar) I beseech you to afford me a more private audience, and it is possible (continued he with a lower tone) you will understand that we have been more unhappy than Fame hath given out of us, as accustomed as she is to amplify the things she reports. Upon this unpleasing Preface, Hannibal signified that his pleasure was to confer apart, and every one retired out of respect: When the Prince turning to Bomilcar, proceed (saith he) I beseech you, and being out of the reach of any other ears, unfold to me without any reservation the present estate of our Republics affairs. These words enforced a sigh from Bomilcar, who after a beginning which seemed to promise a sad Discourse, told him, that he was too good a Carthaginian to be able to describe the great Conquests of Scipio. I shall content myself (continued he) with informing you into how deplorable a condition they have reduced us, and struck such an astonishment into the spirits of the Africans, that all our Neighbours fled for Sanctuary to Carthage in such multitudes as represented that City rather a Rendezvous of all the whole affrighted world, than a secure refuge to distressed persons. Their multitude from which we might have expected some advantage by the increase of our Forces, in this occasion afforded us nothing but more trouble and perplexity, insomuch that even the presence of those, which was at other times wont to contribute to the public joy, had in the present conjunction somewhat of so doleful semblance, as served rather to redouble our consternation and fears. You may judge, My Lord, if these passions, which are but too contagious of themselves, did not receive new vigours by the concourse of persons already in●ected therewith. In a few words, I can aver, that they caused so profound a silence to reign in Carthage, that the poor City did in a manner appear as solitary and desert, as it was really populous. Moreover, these fatal passions had so strange and confused influences, that they caused us even to fear that which ought to have calmed our disquiets, and represented unto us the clemency of Scipio more dangerous, ●hen his valour formidable. For the general voice was, that this Roman had indeed approved him a most valiant man in the defeat of Hanno, Syphax, and Asdrubal; but they added, that his gentleness, moderation, and other virtues were such as raised him above the rank of men, and made the gods our Adversaries so long as Scipio was our Enemy▪ This is not all, My Lord (continued Bomilcar) the Ghost of King Syphax added new terrors to our forlorn estate, and that doleful spectre caused such fright and astonishment in the spirits of the Carthaginians, that we at length apprehended his design was to destroy us, either by the decree of the Gods, or to have associates in his misery. But My Lord (added he, beholding Prince Hannibal with a somewhat less sad countenance) I have not without reason presented you this ample description; and although it may seem I ought rather to have concealed our weaknesses and defects, yet I have been induced to use this opportunity to unfold them, and discover the greatness of our evils, to the end I might afterwards manifest the proportion of the remedy we have provided for them. This remedy is no other than the news of your return, which hath been published in our City, during the general dejectedness, as a means to reduce it to some order; and all our people terming your arrival the return of their happiness and glory, have enforced themselves to solemnise the day with sports and feast. Yes, my Lord, your only reputation hath wrought this change; nothing hath been heard since some days, in the mouth of the whole world but your name; and by a kind of transport, suitable to such conjectures, our women cried about the City, That now the whole Universe should be resolved whether the Romans were able to resist the renowned Hannibal of Tresbia, Thrasimene and Cannae. Behold, My Lord, the power of our reputation (added Bomilcar) and observe so great a change proceeding less from the ordinary levity of popular minds, then from the great assurance which our Citizens have in the valour of their illustrious Prince. Whereupon I am come hither by order of the Senate, who receiving certain intelligence of your affairs, and being informed that you would shortly arrive at Leptis, commanded me to take these Troops to augment yours, and assist you in landing, in case the Romans should take the opportunity to oppose it. But now as if Fortune were weary of persecuting us, we shall without obstacle recover the great prop of Africa, and with justice hope that Scipio as valiant as he is, will appear no more invincible before the illustrious Hannibal, than those known Captains his Predecessors, Flaminius, Aemilius and Marcellus have already done. Your Language is too obliging (answered Prince Hannibal) and the people attribute too much to my arm, Nevertheless, since pre-conception acts so strongly in their spirits: I shall leave them to their opinion; and I will either perish (added he with a tone somewhat more strong and savouring of his noble fierceness) but I will make good some part of their hopes by my actions. I am determined therefore to march against Scipio (continued he with the same air) as I have formerly marched against the gallantest Chiefs of his Nation, and it is possible it may appear that this Roman, whose name carries so much terror with it to the hearts of our people and Armies, will not always fight with favourable success, nor harrasse Africa so furiously, since the Sea is no longer between us. Scarce had Hannibal uttered these few words, but he dispatched Magar to Carthage, both to confirm the people's joy there, and to provide such things as were necessary to the accomplishment of the designs he had resolved on; And turning himself again towards Bomilcar, in the mean time that his Army unshipt, he continued conferring with Bomilcar to inform himself more exactly of the forces of Carthage, and those of the Enemy, and having learned from him all that could be known, he determined to encamp, the better to keep his army from being separated by quartering in several Villages; to which purpose he made choice of an advantageous place for the line and other conveniences, and began himself to remove the turf. This example was of so powerful incitement, that the works were suddenly advanced, and a large entrenchment being finished within a few days, afforded the Troops of Hannibal all the security which could be wished for in Towns, and restrained such Soldiers as he had brought out of Italy, from forsaking their colours, and withdrawing after the service of divers Campagnes. As soon as the circumvallations were completed, Hannibal was desirous to take a little repose in one of those Tents which were prepared for him; But when he earnestly inclined himself thereto, he was assaulted by so many violent inquietudes, that he was driven at length to bemoan the impetuous incursions of his anxious and pensive thoughts; and this grand personage, as fierce and haughty as he was, found himself capable of sighing in the presence of his beloved Aspar, whom he had retained alone with him in his Tent. Sometimes he expressed very tender and sensible regrets; and soon after following the notion of his insolent spirit, he thundered forth reproaches against a Princess of too great rigour; and endeavoured, as it were, to break those fetters which he felt so burdensome upon him; but within a small while love prevailed upon him to esteem and term them glorious; and he was even driven to calm his fierceness, and make it comply with that imperious passion which useth not to yield to any other. Alas! Aspar (said the Prince, as soon as his agitations permitted him) Thomira is in Africa; but do you believe she hath changed her former humour by being removed into another climate, and that those weak considerations you speak of can effect any thing upon a mind that hath resisted the rudest assaults of Fortune? No, No, Aspar, it is not possible: I shall meet with the same unmovable severity, which I attempted ineffectually both in Spain, and at Capua; My Princess will never suffer herself to become flexible, and I know but too well, that she will always continue to be disdainful, and thy Master be for ever miserable: Ah! Hannibal (proceeded the Prince) behold the worthy fruit of thy passion! Thou seest thyself constrained to come to be the defence of thy Country, after thou hast fallen short of becoming Master of the Universe: Thou oughtest to have marched to Rome after the battle of Cannae, instead of retiring to Capua; and rather have gone to give Laws in the Capitol, then to receive those of a woman, when Fortune had put the opportunity into thy hands of showing all the world, that it's entire conquest was destined to Hannibal. But how speakest thou, O Hannibal (said the Prince, checking himself the next moment) Is this the respect thou owest to the Princess Thomira? Knowest thou not well, that thy servitude is worthy to be preferred before that absolute Empire whereunto thy ambition caused thee to pretend, and that thy chains are of greater value than the most glorious Sceptres? Yes, divine Thomera, (proceeded he) I have done that which I ought to do, when I went to Capua, to adore you there; my affection was worthy of you, when it admitted no other consideration but you; and I could not give a fairer Testimony of the esteem which I have of the incomparable Thomira, then by preferring her above the Empire of the Universe: But further, Most excellent Princess, consider I beseech you, the greatness of my respects; I believed myself more glorious, when prostrate at your feet, then commanding in the head of a triumphant Army: I have never yielded to any but to you, O Thomira; and if I have given bounds to the extent of my glory, I have not done it but at your feet, my adorable Princess. But too severe Thomira (resumed this passionate Prince) I have brought my glory at your feet, without laying my Conquests there; I have sighed a thousand times without being able to mollify you, and having as often found you averse from compassion, obtained for recompense of all my pains, only the satisfaction of having suffered them for you. These and more were the complaints of this high-spirited Prince; in which he was sometimes gentle and submiss, and anon hurried by the impetuosity of his temper to reproaches and renuntiation of his bonds: Sometimes he accused and exclaimed against the Princess Thomira, but oftener protested himself her adorer, and it may be believed, that the mind of this great person wavering by so many divers motions, did not appear strong in this encounter but by the violence of its agitations. At length it became seasonable for Aspar to employ his tongue and endeavours in order to the calming of his Master's disquiets: My Lord, (said this faithful Attendant to the Prince of Carthage) I have had much difficulty to restrain myself from interrupting the course of your Speech: You have not yet seen the Princess Thomira in Africa, and nevertheless conclude with assured belief that she is still incompassionate. I confess I cannot in this occasion but dissent from you, and I crave your permission to tell you, that I am in no small admiration, that a great personage should be afflicted with evils, which he frames to himself to be persecuted by them. Ah Aspar (answered the Prince Hannibal) how little am I capable of this kind of weakness wherewith you charge me? My unhappinesses have a more real foundation, being the true effects of the obdurate, immovable humour of Thomira; I undergo them, because Thomira is insensible, or because perhaps she is only sensible for some other; and I believe her chains, which I will always wear (after all I have said of them) will be no other than my perpetual punishment. Under the allowance of your favour (replied Aspar) I am bold to assure you, that I expect some alteration in their fortune: A strong conceit, which I know not well how to express hath possessed me, that the Princess Thomira will render herself pliable, and recompense the greatness of your services, and to persuade me to this more effectually, it presents itself to my mind as a certain presage the Gods have sent me for the consolation of my Master. I forgive all to your zeal (answered the Prince) but you know well that I am an enemy to the lightness which induces to give credit to presages: Otherwise I believe the Gods would inspire them to the person concerned: And since you say it is for my consolation, do you conceive they are destitute of other means to give me enjoyment thereof entire? And this perhaps (interposed Aspar) is the reason that the Gods have not revealed the secret to you, because you would have been altogether incredulous; and therefore have judged your soul not capable of this sort of impressions: and if the God's cause advertisements to be given you, instead of effecting your absolute satisfaction, it is for that they would have you address to them, and bring you to confess, that all your grandeurs are too short to afford you contentment of themselves. In the mean time (added he) if it be your pleasure to be further lightened in the matter, we will go and consult at the Temple of the Sun, a few furlongs distant from our Camp, and perhaps you will see that their answer will confirm my good belief: The Prince Hannibal had no great inclination to trouble himself with superstitions, although he was otherwise no contemner of the worship which is due to the Independent powers; and if he gave not credit to certain divinations, which find admittance only in vulgar souls, yet (notwithstanding the misreport of Fame) he bore a veneration towards Oracles, and the admonitions delivered by them: Wherefore he determined to go to the Temple where Apollo rendered answers every day; and having spoken to Maharbal and Bomilcar, he went forth of the Camp, accompanied only with his Attendant, and took the way leading to the Temple, though he expected not much redress to his affairs. The Prince by the way mused upon the several accidents of his life, he recalled to memory some part of his Conquests: he saw himself victorious over the Olcadians, the Oretanians, Carpentanians, Illergetes, Bargusians, and Ausetanes, of Aquitane, and the Gauls upon the banks of the River Rhosne; he remembered his Umpirage between the Kings of the Allobroges, and considered his passage over the Alps, till at length he found himself victorious over the Romans near the Po at Tretia, at the Lake of Thrasimene, Cannae and Herdon. He farther seemed to behold his Army encamped before the proud Rome, and contemplated in his fancy, his being at the head of two thousand horse against the Gate Capena. But after having repassed over all these happy successes, he beheld all his affairs overturned at a blow, he durst not so much as think of the winning of Cities, but endeavoured to deface that of Saguntum out of his memory, contenting himself with considering this great revolution, to the end he might better judge of the greatness of the passion which hath caused it. This last thought was enough to have confounded a spirit less courageous; but ere it had no other effect then the rendering that of the haughty Carthaginian more stern and resolute, whose great heart invigorating itself to repel this semblance of reproach, promised him more by the winning one simple field in Africa then by all those battles he had gained in Italy. Whereupon he employed his fancy wholly upon the Idea of his Princess till he arrived at the gate of this proud Temple, whose magnificent Architecture deserved some moments from his eyes, had he not had a design which took him off from all other; Insomuch that he entered without taking any regard to the rich portal of the Temple, and going directly to the Altar, he prostrated himself before it with this prayer; Great Gods! I need not declare the occasion that brings me hither, since the profoundest secrets of my soul are open unto you. I am not come to supplicate any favours from you, being of belief that I ought not to beseech any from a Justice, which without expecting the discernment and prayer of mortals bestows them on such as merit to receive them. Nevertheless if the curiosity we have in those things which concern us be any wise pardonable, be pleased to let me know, whether the Princess which I serve, will ever become compassionate and sensible of my misery, and if I may at length hope to be happy after so long suffering for her. Hannibal having uttered this prayer aloud, held his peace, and a few moments after a dreadful voice delivered this obscure Oracle; 
Thy happiness shall bear its date,  
From the declining of thy fate.  Prince Hannibal was strangely surprised with this answer, and although he was no more knowing of his destiny then before, he nevertheless rendered thanks to the Sun, and went forth of the Temple, musing on the obscurity of his Oracle. But he had not proceeded many paces, when turning towards his attendant, he required his opinion concerning the interpretation of what they had heard; Aspar (said the Prince) do you observe, that instead of the ordinary obscurities there use to be in Oracles; Apollo hath delivered me one with a contradiction in it? The God hath well signified that I was unworthy of the favours I demanded, in that he hath rather perplexed my mind, than enlightened it by his answer. How do you expound it? 
Thy happiness shall bear its date,  
From the declining of thy fate.  Does he mean that the beginning and the end, which are two contraries, are the same thing in my happiness? or would he show, that I am to find my satisfactions at the same time that I shall lose them. This impossibility would put my mind upon the rack, did I consider it with that attentiveness and anxiety which is requisite to unfold it, or rather did I not remit the care of that life to Heaven, whereof it reserves the conduct to itself when it speaks so obscurely. It is very difficult, My Lord (answered Aspar) to consider unpassionately those things which concern ourselves; and it is so hard to see clear through those inquietudes which excite the passions, that I do not wonder you apprehend obscurity in this Oracle, being you judge of it, taking in the consideration of your own interest, and that we seldom are upright esteemers of those things wherein our particular concernments are included. Nevertheless (proceeded he) if you please to follow me to dilate a little upon its interpretation, you shall see that the intricacy of it is not so great as you believe, that it is far more advantageous to you, than it promises at the first thought: You know, My Lord (continued Aspar, perceiving his Master to favour him with audience) that we never taste happiness in its purity, that all things in the world have their mixture and allay; and we too much experience that Fortune, which is believed to preside over Events, bestows and takes back her benefits with the same perpetual levity; So that we never enjoy an entire and secure contentment. I shall pass yet further, and presume to affirm, That if we were arrived at the compleatest attainment of all those goods which compose that felicity men so much talk of, and never find; I say, I shall dare to affirm, That we should have such solicitous apprehensions of falling from that happy estate, as would make us capable of sighing in the midst of our delights; since the greatness of our satisfactions, would be in some sort, the measure of that fear we should have to lose them. But, My Lord, the revolutions which you fear are of a quality to afford you satisfaction, and make you pass for the least unhappy of men. Yes, My Lord, this Oracle is the most advantageous that could fall within your wishes; since it gives you assurance that the end of one happiness, shall be the beginning of another; whereas usually one misfortune is but the introduction to a greater, till we become at last precipitated into an abyss of miseries. You know also, My Lord (added he) that happiness hath different kinds of appearances, therefore why should you think it strange to gain one sort with the loss of another. Hannibal was either satisfied, or seemed to be so with this interpretation, but being as little instructed of the nature of the happiness he was to lose, as able to conjecture of what kind that was the fates had designed him, he resolved to await the explication from the event with patience; and being of an humour which did not permit him to fear much the assaults of fortune, he also was not very capable of expecting her favours with very eager inclinations. Having his mind possessed with this thought, there appeared to his sight something of a glittering brightness; Upon which turning his eye toward the way which crossed his, he beheld a Cavalier followed by four others, and advancing toward the place where the ways crossed; the first of these unknown persons did by a nobler air evidence himself the Master of the rest, rather than by the disparity of his Arms; which although of silver, enriched with scales of burnished gold, and beset with many jewels, did less draw the eyes of Hannibal by these ornaments, then by the fierceness of his countenance, and the gracefulness of his port. The Carthaginian Prince would have passed on after he had a little considered this stranger, but he was surprised when he saw himself accosted, and heard these words, I know by your Arms (said the stranger) that you are a Carthaginian; therefore inform me if it be true that Hannibal is encamped within a few furlongs of Leptis. The Carthaginian Prince who was accoutred with a very plain suit of Arms, the better to pass unknown in his short journey, ought not reasonably to have been surprised with this discourse of the stranger; but he was so notwithstanding in a great measure, and as he had not quitted the heart of Hannibal by laying aside his arms and harness, he could not suffer these words, which he esteemed not civil, and fiercely answered thereunto; If you are of the friends of that Prince, and would serve him, I will soon accord your demands in giving you the news of him: I will not receive them on those terms (replied the stranger) and I am— Show then (interrupted the impatient Carthaginian) if your valour be sufficient to merit this advantage, and know that a Prince that hath such friends as myself, would perhaps take little care to gain persons of your account. He said no more, but drawing his sword assailed the stranger, who had soon drawn his, and being not able to prevent him, contented himself to receive him with a very gallant and heroic firmness. The other four Cavaliers, knowing the generosity of their Master, were constrained to be spectators of the combat, and obliged Aspar to be so by their example. These two valiant warriors dealt great blows to one another; which they warded with their shields for a long time with much dexterity; till at length the stranger was wounded in the right arm, and having drawn blood from Hannibal by a hurt he gave him in the left, he received at the same time a stroke that proved the weakness of his cuirass. Whereupon the stranger, who was one of the bravest persons in the world, and had never been treated in this manner in his combats, perceiving his flux of blood, changed all his fierceness into fury, and flew upon his enemy with so impetuous a Violence, that the great Hannibal stood in need of his whole force and skill. But at length this haughty Prince being incensed to find a resistance he used not to meet with in his encounters, discharged from that arm (so dreadful to many Nations) such a heavy blow upon the head of the stranger, that it made him reel, and would without doubt have born him from his horse, had not two of his Cavaliers sped to his succour, while the other two run to revenge him; Of which the first that lifted up his sword to strike the Prince Hannibal, soon received his death as a punishment of his temerity in presuming to attaque this great man; and the other, whom Aspar engaged, would have perhaps followed the fate of his companion by a less honourable hand, had he not suddenly cried out for sparing his life, to go and provide with his companions for the preservation of that of his Master. The Prince Hannibal caused Aspar to retire, and went himself to see in what condition his enemy was, and to offer the strangers all manner of assistance. He found that they had taken off his Helmet, and perceived an aspect composed of fierce and comely with several marks of greatness. The stranger was not in so bad estate as was supposed, and seeing his Enemy approach, he endeavoured to reinforce himself to go against him, but was restrained by his attendants, and arrested himself when he understood the intention of the generous Hannibal. He was surprised with the good meene of this Prince, when he saw him lift up the Visor of his Casque, and remarked in his Visage so noble and great an air, that he was as much astonished therewith, as he had been ill-treated by his valour. Valiant Sir, (said the unknown person) I wonder not that you are friend to Hannibal, since there is so much resemblance between you in the most heroic of all qualities; but I believe that Prince loves little of the world, if he love not such persons as you▪ and I think if he had more friends of the like valour, he might promise himself success in Africa, more advantageous than those his arms have had in Italy. Hannibal is not so happy in friends as you imagine him (answered the Prince of Carthage) since you have refused to be of their number; but however, if you please to go to his Camp, you shall there receive such treatment as shall restrain you from hating a man who perhaps never offended you? Hate (said the stranger) I honour his person, and admire his high reputation too much to be guilty of such sentiments; but I told you before, I could not serve him, because I was engaged on the contrary side. Nevertheless, upon your word, I will go to the Camp of Hannibal, provided you promise me I shall leave it at my pleasure, and that neither the knowledge of my condition, nor that of my engagement for the Romans, shall be any cause to retain me in the Carthaginian Army, when it shall be fit for me to go serve against it. Hannibal accorded the stranger his desires, and having seen him mounted on his horse with one of his Attendants behind him to hold him up, they took the way to the Camp together. These great Persons had an extreme desire to know one the other, and viewed each other many times, to learn that which they durst not inquire of: but after they had marched some time without any speech at all, the stranger at length ended the silence to render thanks to his Conqueror, and to desire the knowledge of his Name, who had so generously obliged him. Scarce had he began to speak, when he spied a Body of Horse making toward them with a large trot, which he perceived were Carthaginians. Wherefore, to prevent being known by any of this Troop, he pulled down the visor of his helmet; but he no sooner understood that these Carthaginians came to attend their Prince as his guard, and that the person with whom he had encountered was the great Hannibal, but he approached with a very submiss action, and told him obligingly that his ignorance had made him guilty of a great mistake; and my Lord (said he) you could not have made yourself known in a more heroic manner; your great strokes sufficiently spoke you the famous Hannibal, and if your arms and habiliments caused you to be taken for a Carthaginian, yet I might have better known by your actions, that you were the illustrious Prince of Carthage. But, my Lord (added he) to take away a part of the regret which you may possibly have for drawing your sword against me, and to testify to you that I was not altogether unworthy to be treated favourably, I will decla●● to you that I am King of a Realm sufficiently large; and as soon as I shall have taken a little repose, I shall let you see by the story of my life, that the quality of King possibly is not the thing which will most affect you. Upon this Declaration Hannibal redoubled his civilities, and craved pardon of the stranger for that he had not treated him as he should have done, had he understood his true condition: My Lord (continued the Prince of Carthage) yourself only ought to have regreat for measuring the sword against a man that appeared no more than a simple Carthaginian; and if Fortune hath given me some advantage, she hath only played a new prank of her old game; and by a Caprichio ordinary with her inclined to be your enemy, because she delights to overturn the powerful, and to favour me, believing she should raise a man whom she took for an ordinary Native of Carthage. Your Victories (replied the stranger) have no dependence on her, and your valour does always so assuredly produce its effects, that it is easy to judge it holds nothing from the Empire of that inconstant Goddess. These two Princes continued on their conversation in very obliging terms, and ended not till they arrived at the Carthaginian Camp. There Hannibal took all possible care for the King whom he had wounded; he lodged him in one of his own Tents; and caused him to be presently dressed by his best Surgeons; by whom he was informed to his great joy of the curableness of the King's wounds: insomuch that he would go in person to give him assurance of the contentment he received thereby. Being there, he heard a noise in his Tent, which obliged him to turn his eye about to discover the cause; whereupon he saw Adherbal entering, who was a Carthaginian of quality, and in no mean esteem with him. The Prince had not time to demand the cause which had so much moved him; for Adherbal immediately as he entered testified his surprise and joy, and following the force of his impetuous humour: My Lord (cried he) To horse, Laelius is ours, with a thousand Talents, Hannibal could not contain from smiling at this strange introduction, and by and by looking seriously upon Adherbal, Recollect yourself (said the Prince) and speak more clearly if you would be understood. Although Adherbal was in favour enough with his Prince, yet he was sensible he had committed a miscarriage in not delivering himself but by a transport; and after having made a low reverence as to crave pardon for his fault, he offered a more particular discovery. Hannibal commanded him to speak aloud, not seeing any person in his Tent whom he might suspect. Whereupon Adherbal presented a Numidian, who came from the parts of Vermina, to advertise that Laelius was to pass within a hundred furlongs of Capsa, with only four thousand men; that with those few Forces he conveyed a magnificent Present, worth above two thousand Talents, which the Republic of Rome sent to Masinissa, and that this Numidian, very well knew where there was a convenient place to surprise the passage of the Romans: Hereupon the Carthaginian Prince discoursed with the Numidian and having received his advice, caused his Attendant Aspar to be called, and whispering something in his ear, he commanded him to go forth and use extreme diligence. This order being given, he turned himself towards this illustrious stranger, and protested that he could not resolve to leave him, were it not convenient to permit him to his quiet, and necessary for himself from time to time to take care for the affairs of his charge. After this compliment, he went forth of his Tent, and betook himself to choose out the best Horse which Bomilcar had brought, to whom he gave the command of them, and of several other Troops he added to form a body, being not willing to go himself in this expedition, either by reason of his hurt, or out of some other consideration. The Prince having given such orders as were necessary, retired to his Tent by the counsel of the Surgeons to take his rest. He passed the Evening, and almost the whole night with devising means to see his Princess, so that he could not sleep till about the break of day, and waked not till very late. Which he no sooner did, but he remembered the promise of the wounded ●ing, and deeming that he might take this occasion to learn his name and adventures, he sent to know in what condition he was. The messenger which went to that purpose returned presently with News that the King had passed the night with very great unquietness, that he had not fallen asleep but two or three hours since, and that the Surgeons thought it not fit he should be visited so soon. This answer obliged the Carthaginian Prince, to entertain himself a part of the day with Maharbal, and some eminent Officers who were present at his rising; and as he was telling them of the news he had received of Antiochus King of Syria, he saw Bomilcar enter accompanied by Adherbal, and the Numidian Courtier. Hannibal perceived a deep sadness in the countenance of Bomilcar, and being desirous to know the occasion, What (said he obligingly) can Bomilcar be sad when he comes from fight? I come not from fight, My Lord, answered Bomilcar, Laelius is retired to a fortress, which the Romans have possessed for about a month, and being not in a condition to go force it, I am returned, but less troubled for his retreat, then at the news which the Courtier of Vermina hath given me. But, My Lord (added Bomilcar) I most humbly beseech you to dispense with me for relating it to you this day▪ and to permit me to acquaint you as late as I can with a misfortune, whose greatness surpasses your power to redress it. These last words of Bomilcar amused Hannibal extremely, and as the Prince deliberated what resolution he should take, whether to be better informed, or to expect yet some time, there came one to tell him that the King requested him to take the pains to come to his Tent. Hannibal was glad of this means to break off his irresolution, and although he had inward sentiments of sorrow, yet he promised himself a kind of consolation from this visit, believing that the conversation of a sick person would be melancholic and suitable to the humour that had seized him. The wounded King was aware of the alteration of Hannibal, and interesting himself in that which afflicted this great man, he demanded of him with much civility the cause of his sadness. 'Tis not My Lord (continued he) the retreat of Laelius, I have been told, which afflicts you, if it were, I should be perhaps against myself, and partake in the ill success you have had, although I am extremely concerned in that affair▪ as you shall know more at large by and by. No, No, My Lord (answered Hannibal) 'tis not the retreat of Laelius that afflicts me, and since you deal so generously, and none else is privy to our discourse, I shall not scruple to tell you that Laelius is not in security but by my means; and to lay my thoughts open to you freely, I believe it is never fit to seek to fight with advantage in a single combat; also I conceive that slights and artifices cannot pass in such occasions but for props of weakness, and that generosity ought to esteem them either as a pitiful sort of assistance, or a means to steal a victory. But I reason after another manner (proceeded he) when it is requisite to preserve my Troops in a day of battle; and it suffices to tell you, that I have in a manner caused the retirement of Laelius, to show you that I have employed the sole means that was left me to preserve the most effective Troops of my Army. For in a word (added he) I should have infallibly lost those which I used in this service, and lost them even in gaining this small Victory, which in appearance I ought to have expected: for my soldiers being become rich by the booty of this great prize▪ would without doubt have deserted me, and being almost all of this Country, they are so well acquainted with the byways, that it would have been impossible for me to have pursued after them; and perhaps I should also have lost those I had sent to recover the others. Nevertheless, I confess, I should have weakened the forces of the Romans, but at the same time I aver, that it was not expedient to hazard my Troops to attaque some of theirs which were divided, and that it is better to preserve my strength entire, to the end I may be able to fight the grand Army of the Romans, and one single Victory render me Master of all the rest. This is, in few words, the reason which induced me to act after a fashion not ordinary, and which may make me pass either for a subtle Captain or a humorous contriver, according to the diversity of judgements which may reason upon my conduct. Your conduct My Lord (answered the wounded Prince) is not an ordinary conduct, and all the world knows, that your prudence hath caused you to be regarded in battles as the Father of your soldiers; so effectual hath it been to their preservation. In reality every one hath believed that your wit did not less triumph in Italy, than your courage, since it hath produced you many a Victory, and sometimes furnished you with means wholly extraordinary to avoid dangers, the eyes of all other mortals would have considered as inevitable. But, my Lord, when you acted like the General of an Army, it hath been in a gallant manner: for that is truly to overcome like a man, when prudence beareth a part in the victory, as it is to overcome after the manner of brutes, when force alone gives all the advantage. This prudence notwithstanding, hath acted less than your courage in particular engagements, wherein you have always behaved yourself with an ardour so noble, that the world hath oftentimes been induced to believe, that you designed no other end of your pains but the conservation of others. For, in short, to omit those actions whose glory dazzles the sight of the beholders, I will only mention your exploits of yesterday, and show you that the retreat of Laelius affords evidence that you know how to preserve an Army, as the combat you had with a Cavalier who might have been seconded by four others, shows that you go not with very great precaution at such time as only the safety of your own life is concerned: and nevertheless, the condition which I am in, manifests that you know how to overcome in all fashions. Ah! 'tis too much My Lord (interposed the Prince of Carthage) how do you treat Hannibal? Do you serve yourself of some preoccupation of sadness appearing upon his countenance, to continue a discourse which he ought not to permit? and would you have him render himself unworthy of your obliging expressions, if he should show himself capable of hearing them? If your actions had less splendour (replied the King) you would have reason to interrupt my discourse, and your modesty might with justice be offended: But My Lord in the estate wherein you are (continued he with an obliging smile) you would have more difficulty to silence those tongues that are employed in your praises, than you have had to perform those fair actions which make them speak. The King proceeded no further, because he saw Aspar was entered into the Tent, and drawing towards his Master to speak to him. This person judging that he ought to lose no time, My Lord (said he presently to the Prince Hannibal) I shall not render you account of what I have done, since the success hath manifested that I have fortunately discharged my commission which you gave me; but it is fit that I present you with news that will afford you joy, and tell you that our Republic hath made alliance with Syria, Macedonia, Bythinia, that levies have been made for us in these three Kingdoms, that King Antiochus the Great, with the Prince Persius, and the young Prince Nicomedas, have dis-engaged themselves from their Troops to be rather with you, and to lose no opportunity of fight. I have met Magar, who came with all speed to give you this advertisement, but being his horse began to be no longer able to serve him, and mine was yet fresh, he charged me to come with diligence to assure you that those Princes would be here within two or three hours, and that their Troops which compose between sixty and eighty thousand men, and are commanded by the Kings, Philip and Prusia's, will reach Carthage within five or six days. The Prince Hannibal was extremely satisfied with this News, and having made his compliment to the sick King, took horse notwithstanding his wound, and went to meet Antiochus, Nicomedes and Perseus, being accompanied by Maharbal▪ Bomilcar, and the most considerable Officers of his Army. He met the Princes about seven or eight furlongs from his intrenchments, and first embraced the King of Syria with great protestations, and then also carried the Prince of Macedonia, and the young Prince of Bythinia, Maharbal and Bomilcar took their turn to make their compliments, and the Officers of each part saluted one another very civilly, but with address, out of the respect which they owed to the presence of so great Princes, Hannibal, the King of Syria, Nicomedes, Perseus, Maharbal and Bomilcar remounted their horses, and putting themselves at the head of above a thousand Officers, took the way towards the Camp. They had scarce marched a few moments, but Antiochus told the illustrious Hannibal, that Asia would not less interest itself in the important war of Carthage and Rome, than Europe and Africa; and the desire which I have had to be concerned in a quarrel of so great extent, hath brought me to the famous Hannibal, under whom I shall venture my fortune and receive his orders. Hannibal will receive yours, My Lord, (answered the Carthaginian Prince) and the great conquests you have made, and the name of Great, the world hath given you, teach me sufficiently that I ought to follow the King of Syria to be conducted to victory; and if all that you have done in Asia (continued he) should not evince you a transcendent Martialist, yet that which you do in this conjuncture is so glorious to you, and advantageous for me, that I am to seek for terms to express my resentment of it. For, My Lord, you take arms, without that the necessity of your affairs obliges you to do so; you pass the sea to seek war, and choose a side that is weak, and seems to have been abandoned by Fortune. How therefore shall I style these actions? Our enemies themselves, what can they say of them? Will not they be constrained to acknowledge, that the Virtues are not always Romans, and that the Nations, whom they call barbarous, know how to practise the most heroic? What I do My Lord (modestly replied Antiochus) may be very differently interpreted, and not only our enemies, but the most disinterested people from both parties may say, that my proceeding is more politic than generous. 'Tis not unknown (pursued he) that your Republic, and that of Rome are the two greatest powers upon earth, and that the greatest part of Kings cannot subsist but by protection of one of them, and consequently that it is necessary to contribute to the rendering their strength equal; since by that means Carthage will always bound the ambition of Rome, and Rome balance the arms of Carthage. If one of these Republics (proceeded Antiochus) were not a powerful obstacle to the other, who would be able to withstand that which were Victorious? Who could bear up against the force of Rome, if Carthage were overcome, or oppose Carthage, if Rome were subdued? Should this happen, I believe few Princes could preserve their States. Wherefore it is requisite that they league with one of the sides as soon as it grows weak, and contribute to that mutual resistance wherein consists all their security. You see My Lord (added the King of Syria) what judgement may be made of my proceedings by those which do not know Antiochus; but I am satisfied that I come to serve 〈◊〉 Prince who will judge more favourably of things, and have the generosity to believe it's no fear that makes me act in this conjuncture, and that the breast of Antiochus is not very capable of giving entrance to that passion: Rather (replied the Prince Hannibal) 'tis your own generosity that convinces him; and the King of Syria acts in a manner so noble, that that conduct, which divers may term a Maxim of state, cannot pass in his esteem for a sentiment unworthy the greatness of his courage. Hannibal ending these words turned himself towards Perseus, and gave him many Testimonies of his acknowledgement, and protested to him that the obligation which Carthage had to the King his Father was double, since he had broken the alliance wherewith he stood engaged to the people of Rome, and enter into confederacy with the Republic of Carthage. My Lord (answered Prince Perseus) the Romans are so puffed up by the Victories of Scipio, that their pride seems to be insupportable. The King my Father hath thereupon conceived an aversion from them, and being unwilling to partake as an Ally in the tyrannical design of a people which affects a universal Empire, he hath forsaken the league he had with them, and contracted one with Carthage. Nevertheless he could not satisfy himself with this naked confederation, unless he raised auxiliaries to his confederates, and the esteem he bears of the great Hannibal hath induced him to come into Africa, to join himself in the war, and serve him with his person. The Prince of Carthage rendered thanks to him of Macedonia by bowing of his body, when the Prince of Bythinia, who all this while viewed the great Hannibal with attention, began to speak to him as soon as he saw he might do it without interruption. My Lord, said the young Nicomedes, I do not so well understand the design of the King of Bythinia, as the Prince Perseus doth the thoughts of the King of Macedonia: but if I m●ght presume to declare mine, after such discourses as persons of my age are not capable of, I could protest to you that I have so much admired the high renown of Hannibal, that the esteem I have for that illustrious Prince hath brought me to his side and Army to learn the Rudiments therein of a profession, of which he is so excellent a Master. But My Lord (continued the young Nicomedes) I am come only by inclination, and without other reasoning then what I have drawn from an internal motion: I have believed that I ought to esteem the Prince Hannibal, without conceiving a hatred against the Romans, which might be suspected, and my heart one day reproach me as an effect of my fear. The young Nicomedes pronounced these words with so pleasing ferocity, that the Prince Hannibal was charmed therewith, and instantly felt that inclination towards the Prince of Bythinia spring up in his breast, which he preserved and cherished there all the rest of his life. Was it not generous enough Nicomedes (answered the Prince of the Carthaginians) to have benevolence for me, without ratifying it to me by so fair effects, in forsaking the pleasures o● Cities, to expose your youth to the travels and dangers of war? How do you treat me, My Lord! (interrupted Nicomedes) would you have me be of a party, and do as they, which daring not declare themselves, are contented to assist the persons whom they love only by secret vows and wishes? No, No, My Lord, Nicomedes is none of those word-friends, he will make his actions speak the sense of his mind; and if he leaves Bythinia in his fifteenth year, 'tis for that he believes the residence in Towns not honourable, when all the world is in the field: besides the age I am of (continued Nicomedes) being apt to receive impressions, hath caused me to come to the great Hannibal to receive good ones from him. Scarce had the Prince of Bythinia ended these words, but they were just at the outguards of the Camp. Into which being entered, Hannibal received these generous confederates in the most magnificent of his Tents, where he made them be served with a very noble collation; During which they entertained themselves with variety of discourse, which at length insensibly came to be concerning the wounded King. Antiochus, Perseus, and Nicomedes signified their desire to go visit him, and the Prince of Carthage being informed that they might do it without incommoding him, himself conducted them towards the generous stranger. The first compliments were very short and conformable to the nature of the place, and the profession of the persons that made them: After which the wounded King addressing to the King of Syria: You may judge (said he) My Lord, of the treatment which the friends of the Prince Hannibal may hope, since his enemies receive so good. Yes, My Lord, I am an enemy of the Prince Hannibal, because I am engaged with his enemies; nor am I much troubled to make an avowance thereof unto you, which may speak my ingratitude, So that at the same time I advantage the glory of my Benefactor. Enemies of your quality (answered Antiochus) will without question be always well treated by such persons as Hannibal; and this Prince is so great a lover of virtue, that he testifies his esteem of it, wherever he meets it! I know not what Hannibal hath done (interposed the Prince of Carthage) to be treated in this manner, and as little whether you— He hath done such brave things (interrupted the Syrian King instantly without suffering Hannibal to continue) that we should be ravished to know all he hath done: Ah! my Lord (added the wounded King) I should be more particularly obliged to you then these Princes, if you would do us the grace to cause the History of your life to be recounted unto us; since having been so frequent a Victor, I should have the consolation to observe some occurrence, semblable to my late one, in that recital. Oh, my Lord (cried Nicomedes with a pleasing transport) make me know fully, that which I have so often admired. And if I might be permitted, said the Prince of Macedon, to add my prayers to those which ought to be more prevalent, I should request the same favour, My Lords, (answered the Prince Hannibal, you demand so small a thing that I wonder you should ask it with so much instance: Nevertheless you shall be satisfied, and Aspar shall relate you what he knows of my life. After these words the Prince of Carthage commanded his Attendant to be called, and in the mean while continuing the conversation with the Princes, he told them, that in a little time they would perceive that that Hannibal, who was so much talked of, was perhaps but little known; and soon know the difference there is between the Hannibal of Carthage and the Hannibal of the Princess Thomira: O believe notwithstanding, answered Antiochus, that the first, which is he you speak of, is sufficiently known: and since few persons know what is that renders him different from the other, I conceive the impatience is reasonable which I have to know it. Yet I would not (replied Hannibal) that the particularities of my life should come to the knowledge of the people: there is a certain stupidity reigning amongst them, which hinders them from judging truly of things, and makes them condemn all they understand not; and therefore it is not fit to discover that to them which they cannot know but imperfectly; and since the loss of our liberty passes with them for a weakness, and it is not necessary to encounter their Sentiments, how unjust soever, I conceive it not within the rule of prudence to let the multitude know what passes in the breasts of great men who are separated from the crowd: Let them therefore only understand, if a man hath Ambition, since that passion is not noble when it is not known, and aught to produce effects of gallantry to be commendable. But the case of Love is far different; this passion pleasing itself with making a secret of every thing; and it would be to commit a profanation to divulge its secrets to persons who are incapable to gust them in their purity. So that there is I know not what of mysterious in it, which loses its value as soon as it becomes too much discovered; besides that this fair passion not acting but according to the disposition of the persons it subdues, it is difficult for vulgar souls to believe that it can inspire others with noble sentiments, at the same time that it inspires them with low, and oftentimes criminal conceptions. In which regard as I am very well pleased that Hannibal passes in the apprehension of the people for only an Inamorato of glory; so I am glad on the contrary that amongst you, My Lords, he is known to be the slave of the most excellent Thomira. Yes, My Lords, I am not unwilling to let you know all the particularities of my engagement, and although it renders me unhappy, yet I so much esteem the fair cause of that unhappiness, that I account it my glory to have it known to such persons as you; and I shall even find consolation, if you measure by what I suffer, the greatness of the respects I have for a Princess who ought infinitely to be honoured. The Princess of Castulon is so reasonable, answered Perseus, and I have heard speak so advantageously of the beauties of her soul, that it is passed my comprehension how she could refuse her esteem to the Prince of Carthage: and I comprehend less (interrupted the young Nicomedes) how she hath been able to retain that esteem without proceeding to something more tender. You are too obliging, answered Hannibal to the Prince of Bythinia, and I believe it not difficult to comprehend, for what cause the Princess Thomira could never resolve to render Hannibal happy; since the first impression she received of me was an impression of hatred; and when I have endeavoured by my services to root out of her breast the aversion she had against me, I have perceived in this fair Princess so profound a sadness, that I believed her own grief would employ her enough to divert her from taking care for that of another. But, My Lord, said the wounded King, this profound sadness ought not to discourage you; for certainly the Princess of Castulon could not appear sad before you, if she had only hatred for you; and the presence of an enemy, of whom she might revenge herself by making him suffer, would not only not render her sad, but be a means to moderate all her disturbances. Yet I proceed further, and believe that Thomira is not sad, but for that she feels in her breast something for you very contrary to hatred, and is not afflicted but by the combat which is in her spirit between a kind of seemliness which acts against you, and certain inclinations which are favourable unto you. Besides I have heard from the mouth of this fair Princess (by an adventure which I shall recount to you hereafter) some complaints which had something of so sweet, something of so tender, and something so sensible and touching, that I could not but accompany the tears I saw fall from the fair eyes of this amiable mourner with my own. But My Lord, continued he, seeing Aspar enter, you may please to permit me to make that rehearsal, after we have heard that which we expect from your attendant: And for the present, no more to misdoubt the sadness of Thomira, you may believe, that since the heart of this fair Princess gives entry to troublesome passions, it will not refuse it to those which enter with sweetness and pleasingness, and even without any one's taking heed unto them. I shall do all that pleases you, answered Hannibal with an air wholly changed, and a countenance which the Idea of Thomira afflicted had rendered extremely sad: Yes, I shall do whatever pleases you, and cause all the particularities of my life to be related to you, and will learn no more than what you please to let me know, whenever you think it seasonable to inform me. Aspar (continued he, turning to his Attendant) relate to the Princes all you know of my life; but remember, that it is not fit your zeal should transport you in speaking of your Master, and I forbid you all exaggerations whereinto you are sometimes carried. The Prince of Carthage went forth at these words making a low reverence to the four Princes. After which Aspar approached his illustrious Auditors, and having observed their silence, himself also continued a few moments without speaking to recollect his Ideas, and put a kind of order into his memory according to the diversity of times and the importance of the principal evincements he was to relate, and then began his story in these words.  

The History of Hannibal.  
THe Prince whose life I am to represent unto you, hath achieved such excellent exploits, and so little ordinary to the rest of men, that my recital would seem prodigious, and filled with the exaggerations which are forbidden me, did not you already know that I am to speak of the famous Hannibal: The praises which I am obliged to express of this great person, would appear with reason suspected in the mouth of a Domestic, if all the world did not authorize them by the remarkable interest it hath taken in the victories of my Master. The command therefore which I have received is very well pleasing to me, My Lords, since it gives me place to make the Elogium of Hannibal (so I call the story of his life.) But how agreeable soever the matter be which I undertake, it nevertheless seems to me so great and difficult, that I may with justice fear lest my expression be inferior to it, and do not cloud the lustre of those actions it would discover. But it is necessary that I obey, whatever the event be. Yet before I enter upon my Subject, I conceive it to the purpose, to tell you something by the way, concerning the illustrious house of Barsa, from which my Master is descended; as also necessary to declare unto you how justly that house possesses the Sovereign authority it hath in Carthage, and let you see he hath not without powerful inducements broken the alliance which we had made with the Republic of Rome. For in truth I am obliged to convince the error of those Nations, who would make Hannibal pass for an Usurper of the power he hath in Carthage: and I ought also to show that this Prince hath made war upon the Romans more out of justice then ambition, to the end my Discourse may at least set forth the equity of my Master, if it cannot sufficiently represent both all his fair actions and illustrious qualities. To speak therefore of the establishment of the house of Barsa in Africa, it is convenient that by the way I speak of the foundation of Carthage, since this puissant Republic is not more ancient than the illustrious Family of the Barsins. You know, My Lords, that the fair Dido, daughter of Belus King of the Tyrians, was constrained to fly from Tyre, to escape the cruelty of her Brother Pygmalcon, who had treacherously murdered her Husband Sichaeus; so that happening to arrive at this part of Africa, which was called Zeugitana, she bought of Jarbas King of Getulia as much land as could be encompassed with the Hide of an Ox: whereupon causing the same to be cut into small thongs, it was very easy to enclose a considerable circuit, wherein she made a City to be built which she called Carthage, and in the middle thereof raised that fair Citadel, which we rightly call Byrsa, the word signifying a Hide, The Government of this Citadel was given to a great Lord, who had refused to abandon the Princess Dido; upon which occasion the Africans not knowing the surname of that illustrious Tyrian, called him the Lord of Barsa, finding this pronunciation more conformable to their language then that of the word Byrsa, which being Greek was uncouth to them. But afterwards this illustrious name became greatly extended, since no small part of Africa bears it. Behold therefore, in a few words the original of the name of Barsa, but I humbly beg your permission to dilate a little more that which I have to speak, and to draw from the end of the first Punic war the true causes of this second, and the lawful authority of the Barsins. Nevertheless I shall not relate the particulars of that first war, the people and Nations that were concerned in it, the several fields and battles, and the time it lasted, have rendered it sufficiently known to all the world: It suffices to say that the Carthaginians, the Romans, Hiero King of Syracuse, and divers other of their Confederates waged it in Africa and in Sicily, and continued it four and twenty years: You know also that it was composed after the defeat of Hanno who commanded our Navy by a Peace, and an Alliance, which Amilcar and Lutatius made between the Carthaginians and the Romans, whose Generals they were, comprising therein the King of Sicily, and the Allies of either Republic. The Senate of Rome in stead of giving their consent, sent ten Delagates; who adding hard conditions to the Treaty of Peace, would oblige Carthage to pay a thousand Talents above what had been agreed between Amilcar and Lutatius, and stood upon great advantages to themselves concerning Articles of Navigation and commerce. Amilcar could not suffer this oppression, and having still at Eryx his Army which they could not yet overcome, put himself in a posture to impose the same condition on the Romans by a way more glorious. But at the same time he received News that there was great troubles at Carthage, that he was enjoined to yield to the times, and to close up a peace rather necessary then advantageous. Whereupon Amilcar was constrained to finish the Treaty with Lutatius, and to undergo after the conclusion of this peace a war in his breast more cruel and insupportable. He saw that the honour of Carthage received a blot which seemed inextinguishable; he knew the treasure of this Republic was exhausted, and perceived himself constrained to live in peace with a people that caused these mischiefs which he was to suffer, without daring to pretend to bring a remedy unto them after having signed the Articles. This was not because the heart of Amilcar had consented to this peace; but that Prince knew that in an affair of this nature, there is always some party discontented, and that it is enough that Treaties be made according to the accustomed formalities, without that one be obliged to know the inside of the persons that make them. After he had ended this Negotiation, he passed with very great disquiet a part of the Night which followed that accord, till at length Nature would repair the strength which the agitations of Amilcar had dissipated, and cause this Prince to taste a Dream more pleasing than the troubles which preceded it had seemed to promise; which dream was continued without interruption till the approach of day. The fair Queen Dido appeared in the Chamber of Amilcar, but so as she seemed all clothed with light, and showing a countenance satisfied and smiling, convinced the Prince that all apparitions are not always dreadful. This agreeable Spectre, did not less evidence its joy by its words, then by its gesture. Amilcar, said she presently to the Carthaginian General (as we have since understood) Amilcar, chase away all that pensiveness and gloomy melancholy that afflicts thee; Thy wife hath this night made thee Father of a Son, who will be the glory and stay of Carthage. Yes, Amilcar, thy illustrious Son shall revenge our losses, and make the Romans feel, that Tyrants are not always secure; and that the revolt of Sardinia will supply a mean to break the peace of Sicily. Beside the interest of my City (continued this bright Queen) I am to consider that of my reputation, which the Romans must endeavour to raze out of the minds of Posterity, to augment that of a Vagabond. These malicious flatterers of a miserable Trojan (proceeded Dido) will assault my glory; and which is more, dare to aver that I did not cast myself into the flames, but through an excess of love which I had for a stupid insensible person; although all the world knows that I did that action, which will be ever deemed glorious, only to avoid the pursuits of Hyarbas King of Getulia, who was importunate to receive that faith, which I yet reserved for the unhappy Sychaeus. Amilcar started and awaked at this part of the discourse, and thinking to return an answer to this great Queen, he perceived she was vanished; although he believed he saw still some glimpses of fading light in his chamber. This Prince being ravished with joy, instantly caused himself to be made ready, to go and give orders for the embarking of his Troops, and having already prepared all that was necessary thereunto, when he treated the peace with Lutatius, he was quickly in a posture to set fail; which he did within a few days, and by a favourable wind came happily to the Port of Carthage. All our principal Citizens repaired immediately to him to testify their partaking in his satisfaction; they congratulated the happy delivery of the Princess his Wife, and manifested for the birth of Hannibal (for this was the Prince of whom the Queen Dido spoke) as much joy as the present estate of public affairs could permit. The Prince and they which saw the admirable Infant, were astonished at the sight, and presaged such great things from him, that even without design they made the horoscope of this young Prince by such exclamations. The little Hannibal did not weep as other Infants of that age use to do, but fixedly beheld all those which stood about him, which raised a conceit in those that saw him, that even his first Infancy was fierce: After the first transport of joy for the birth of Hannibal, and the sight of the fair Princess Asdrubelea, and Magarisbe▪ Daughters of Amilcar, the Prince was ●nformed of a strange multitude of Mutineers, of the remnant of Hanno's Army was at Sica and the Villages thereabouts; that their number increased prodigiously every day, and that they demanded the Arrear that was due to them; that Carthage not being in a condition to pay them, it was to be feared ●est some greater disorder might arise. He learned moreover, that those Troops were composed of Africans, Gauls, Spaniards, Greeks, Lygurians and Baleares; as also that their Leaders were Spendius a Campanian, Matho a Lybian, and Autharic a Gaul; Nevertheless he believed it no difficult matter to calm this Tempest. Whereupon he he determined to act like a Noble Patriot, and sold all that he had of value to discharge these malcontents, and by that means to appease the troubles in their birth. In order whereunto, there was one Giscon deputed to go to them, being a person well respected by those Troops which he had sometimes commanded under Hanno: he was impower'd to act according as he should see requisite, to grant the factious all they pretended to be their due, and also whatsoever they demanded; So that the Carthaginians hoped a happy procedure of this affair, and conceived they should at length have respite after a war which had not permitted them any in four and twenty years. But alas, how appearances did abuse use and we soon found how lightly men embrace those conceits which flatter them: The offers of the Carthaginians increased the insolence of the seditious, who believed Carthage was fearful when she became indulgent, and demanded the prices of those horses which they had lost in Sicily, that of corn which was formerly promised should be sent to the Army, and a thousand other things which were till then unthought of by them. Giscon conceded them according to the order which he had received, and as he was upon the point of settling these hot spirits, Spendius whom I before mentioned, the privy Leader of this pernicious Ligue, broke off all negotiation with Giscon and African, and began that irreconcilable war. This perfidious Spendius was once Servant to a Roman Citizen, but had quitted his Master, and listed himself in our Troops: Upon which account he believed if the peace with Giscon treated took effect, it would be necessary to deliver him up, according to the Agreement between the Carthaginians and Romans, and that so he should be punished after the rigour or the Laws as a Fugitive slave. This Consideration moved him to ward off his own unhappiness with ours; and mounting upon a raised Turf to be the better seen and heard, he suddenly uttered these words to the Troops which were thronged together to hear him. My Companions, behold the day which promises you all the advantages which you can wish: 'Tis endeavoured to appease you with a pittance of money, after you have been enforced to undergo the greatest rudeness; Accept of this money since it is in your power, and to get more let us march to Carthage as the source of riches. 'Tis thither, My Companions, we must go to get support to live in quiet the rest of our days; 'Tis there where Africa will style you her Deliverers, when we shall have overcome that City, which would be her Sovereign Mistress; In a word, that's the place where we shall evidence that 'tis not safe to provoke a— Soldiery. There is no doubt to be made of the success of this Enterprise, I will undertake for the Event; It is enough to tell you, that you are feared, to let you see at the same time that you are Victorious. Take therefore this money of Giscon, since it is due to you; seize his person, and all his train of Carthaginians, lest they give our Tyrant's notice of our design; and let us go carry them the Tidings thereof ourselves, effecting it with sixty thousand men. The Discourse of the perfidious Spendius had but too much power upon the minds of this rebellious multitude, insomuch that Giscon was immediately clapped under a Guard, with seven hundred Carthaginians who had convoyed him; and the Law of Nations was violated in the person of a Delegate, and such a Delegate, who had not repaired towards them but to give them satisfaction. Spendius being unwilling to lose this occasion which he had so much desired, divided his Troops into three bodies, making the first of Lybians and Baleares, which was commanded by Matho, the second consisted of Gauls and Spaniards, of whom Autharic was Leader; the third, which Spendius chose to command himself, was composed of Greeks and Ligurians. This division was but too well contrived, and it suffices only to know the Situation of Carthage to conceive the pitiful estate whereunto we were reduced, I believe, you know, My Lords, that our City is built upon a Cape, and consequently is advanced something into the Sea; that it is on one side environed with the waters thereof, and on the other side with a Lake, which together almost give it the form of an Island: So that it adheres to the Continent of Africa only by a tongue of Land; on one side of which Tunis is seated which looks towards the Lake, and on the other is seen the City of Utica upon the Seashore. About the middle of this tongue of Land slow the streams of Mach●ra, whose discharging is not much remote from the Port of Carthage. This River is not altogether fordeable, nor wholly Navigable, and the only passage is at the Bridge of the City Sephira, which is further advanced into Africa. Spendius marched towards Utica, with his forces, who were much augmented by the way; and immediately took order for drawing of a Trench, whilst Autharic made preparations for the winning of Sephira, and Matho betook himself to besiege Tunis. Behold all our Revenues debarred by the siege of these three Cities; Behold also our Enemies possessing this tongue of Land I spoke of, which only affords commerce with Africa, and three armies ready to be united according as any enterprise should require. But it is better to unwind myself from this part of the story, and silently pass over all the cruelties which the seditious exercised during the war. It suffices to tell you, that this irreconcilable war was more bloody than can be imagined, the Rebels gave no Quarter; they stoned all the prisoners, and put to death all the Officers considerable they took, with excessive torments upon the Cross: In a word, this cruel war was remarkable for more inhuman actions, then ordinary war are eminent for generous Achievements. The great conduct of Amilcar and Hannibal was no advantage in this conjuncture, and these two Heroes being destitute of Forces proportionable to those of the Revolted, were constrained to attend some succours from Sardinia; when (in the mean time News was brought, that all the Garrisons of the Carthaginians in that Island were cut in pieces, and the Romans received into the most considerable holds. With this News was joined that of the loss of Tunis, Utica and Sephira, it was also said that Hippo, which had been always faithful to us, during the war of Agathocles, and that of the Romans, had opened its gates to the seditious; and for a completing of our misfortunes, two days after we beheld from the tops of our Towers an Army of about fourscore or a hundred thousand men coming to besiege us. Then it was that despair possessed the hearts of the Carthaginians, and this poor people resolved to abandon the City, since they had the Sea free to save themselves, But Amilcar, whose heart was invincible, detained them, and told them, that affairs were not come to so deplorable an extremity as to have recourse to remedies of that nature. He showed them that they might receive succours from Sea; that they knew that Naura Prince of Numidia had fifteen or sixteen thousand men beyond Sephyra, with which he designed every day to break through the Enemies and put them into Carthage; and at last (added he) they should always have the same opportunity of embarking, since the enemies had no shipping. The Senate and the people were immediately instant with Amilcar to take upon him the care of this important affair, and all with a common consent put the Sovereign authority into his hands, choosing rather to give their City to an illustrious Citizen, then to abandon it to the Barbarians. The Prince Amilcar was in great thoughtfulness, framing and quashing designs in his mind, and felt inquietudes conformable to the miseries of his Country; insomuch that I think in this distressed conjunction any other spirit would have been broken but his. But at length this great man, to whom nothing seemed impossible, took a resolution to deliver Carthage; but such a resolution as was not less extraordinary than the soul that framed it, or the miseries unto which our City was reduced. The Prince caused a Muster to be made of all their Troops, and found that the Soldiers and the Inhabitants could not furnish more than thirty thousand fight men, of which he drew off twenty thousand and embarked them, leaving the other ten thousand to guard the City. Amilcar had observed that there was a very strong wind up, and thereupon judged that that wind entering upon the mouth of the River Machaera, did there increase its violence; being straitened and enclosed; so that by reason thereof, the current of the River being in some measure repelled, the tumultuous waves recoiling into the River, and driving back the Channel, made the River Navigable. Wherefore the same night the wind arose, he put his men upon the River, and went to unship his Army beyond the Enemy's Camp in a place secure from discovery, from whence he sped one to Narva, to enjoin him to come to Sephira, whence he was not far distant, assuring him by his Messenger, that himself would be at the foot of the walls of that City in the head of twenty thousand men about break of day, Narva could not at first give credit to what the envoy related, and if any other but Adherbal, whom he knew full well had brought him these surprising tidings, he would not perhaps have believed him; but at length he credited the message and exactly obeyed the Orders of Amilcar. These two Princes lost no time, and determined to carry Sephira by surprise; in order to which they immediately caused Blinds to be provided, under which they advanced Rams to batter the City; and they managed their enterprise with so good success, that the Garrison being terrified by their attempt which they conceived miraculous, betook themselves to flight at the first appearance of a breach, and ran to give the Alarm to the Camp before Carthage: whereupon Amilcar and Narva entered Sephira without opposition; and after they had disposed a Garrison in it of about four thousand men, they advanced towards the Rebels Camp. The young Narva put himself in the Head of a thousand Numidian Horse, whom he chose out to go and face the Enemy, & to endeavour to draw him out of his entrenchments to some skirmishings. But as he advanced directly towards the Camp, he met Spendius followed by three or four thousand men, whom a different design had lead towards Sephira. Narva was extremely glad of this occasion, and turning himself to speak to the Numidians which he conducted. My friends (said the Prince, with an air that breathed nothing but encounter) you see we shall meet with what we go to seek after; let us charge the Rebels, and make me know that 'tis not without cause that I have chosen you forth, as the bravest courages of my Troops. After these few words, Narva cast his eye toward the side of Carthage, and as if that sight had more powerfully animated him, he incontinently defied Spendius with a great cry, and ran up to him with his Sword in his hand, but with so much fierceness, that the enemies were daunted with it. Spendius notwithstanding endeavoured to reassure both by words and actions, and received Narva with a boldness greater than his crime could have permitted. So there became a bloody combat, and sufficiently obstinate and resolved. Spendius was wounded on the thigh; and the sight of his blood augmenting his rage, he laid upon the generous Narva with such fury as would have been insupportable to an ordinary valour: this of Narva's was of another nature then to see itself surmounted, and the Prince so well redoubled his efforts at the same rate the Rebel renewed his, which drew blood from the Traitor Spendius by two wounds in his right arm, and evidenced the remarkable difference there is between actions of generosity, and those which are animated only by despair. At length, Spendius, whom rage began to blind, and betray, took no further ●eed to his guard or the defect of his Arms, but incessantly assailing, and spending his fury, gave place to the Prince Narva, to preserve his judgement at the measure he lost his own. The generous Numidian was slightly hurt, but he enforced Spendius to disengage himself from the Combat, and with such valour continued on fight, and was so vigorously seconded by his own Troops, that the Enemies gave back, as soon as they had brought off their perfidious General. Narva pursued them for some time, and made three hundred of them prisoners, besides that the appearance of the dead seemed to show that he had slain five or six hundred Rebels, and had only lost about four and twenty of his own Cavalry. Soon after he caused those of his own, or the Enemies which were capable of succour, to be raised up and taken care for; the prisoners he gave order to be guarded by some of his Troops, and went to join with Amilcar, who received him with great acknowledgements and affection. The Numidian Prince rendered him account of that which had passed, and modestly mentioning his own actions, contented himself with telling him that Fortune had not favoured Rebellion, and that the little he came from performing, might in some manner serve for a successful presage. Amilcar, notwithstanding, soon understood how the affair was managed from the mouths of the Numidians, and even from those of the Prisoners: upon which having embraced Narva, and styled him the generous Deliverer of the Carthaginians; Ah, My Lord (answered the Numidian Prince) I am but little qualified for the bearing of that glorious Title, and you have too much goodness to receive a relation favourably, which the Numidians have not been able to make without the transport of that zeal which they have for their Prince, and to give belief to the discourse of a few Prisoners, who to excuse their defeat, choose rather to represent me as valiant, then to pass themselves for cowards. Nevertheless these considerations do not so far remove me from the quality of a Deliverer, as (that which myself have of being a slave. Yes, my Lord (continued he) I am a slave, but 'tis to the fair Princess Asdrulia. So that, My Lord, you perceive Narva is unworthy of your Caresses, you see that he does more against you, than he is able to do for you, since the whole Republic partakes in the little services I render you, and that you alone are concerned in the offence and presumption I have been guilty of in casting my eyes upon the divine Princess Asdrulia. This crime hath notwithstanding seemed not to me unhandsome; and I should not have confessed it in any other occasion, having only declared it in this, because your affairs are in no condition to give me hopes of a long life. So that I have thought fit to beg my pardon, upon a belief that I had not altogether bad grounds to desire it, and was loath to carry a crime longer about me, which I am upon the point of washing away with my blood. Narva, in the close of these words, was casting himself at the feet of Amilcar; but the Prince prevented him, and having embraced him with greater tenderness than before; Generous Prince (answered he) I am perfectly obliged to you, both for the important services which you render to Carthage, and the esteem wherewith you honour Asdrulia. This latter Obligation, which is particular to myself, produces more powerful resentments in me; and as I have no partaker in it, I am sorry it is not in my power alone to satisfy you, and that Asdrulia does not so absolutely depend upon me, as to dispose of her in your favour, If the first words of Amilcar were pleasing to the Numidian Prince, the last seemed to him so surprising and fatal, that he changed colour, and exclaimed with a tone that testified his sadness and despair: Ah! My Lord, you ought for my satisfaction to have better disguised this refusal, and preserved the life of Narva yet a little longer, since you have judged it not unprofitable to your affairs. I do not conceive (answered Amilcar, that you have reason to be affected as you seem, nor that my expressions ought to have caused that alteration which I remarked in your countenance. It is true, My Lord (replied Narva) that I ought not to be surprised when you refuse me a Treasure which I ought not to have obtained; but it is also true, that the manner wherewith you have refused me is not very ordinary; and I believe, if the Prince Amilcar hath not power over the Princess Asdrulia, it is very difficult for him to tell on whom she depends. On the sword of Narva (interposed the prince Amilcar) 'tis that which hath this day began to break the fetters of Asdrulia; 'tis that which shall defeat those Troops which appear to treat her like a slave: in a word, it is that sword which shall with more glory win Asdrulia, then if he obtained her only by the consentment of Amilcar. For I could not justly affirm, that Asdrulia depended absolutely on me, since she is in a City besieged, and that your valour hath even acquired this day a new right over all the Carthaginians. The passionate Numidian could not hear these words without casting himself at the feet of Amilcar, to render him thanks; and the joy which possessed him, carried him beyond the bounds of moderation: he believed that an Army of fourscore thousand men was not at all formidable, he termed them a flock of feeble sheep which he would dissipate; and his choler adding flame to his love, joy, and hope, he was so much transported, that the blood broke forth of his wound with violence: which Amilcar observing, he instantly caused the hurt of the brave Numidian to be searched, and appointing him to be removed to bed, began to exercise such an authority as infinitely charmed the Generous Narva. The Chirurgeons assured him that the wound of the Numidian Prince was not at all dangerous, and being but in his left arm, was no hindrance to the Princes from deliberating concerning their affairs. They determined therefore to grant both life and liberty to the Prisoners, judging it only then fit to employ violent remedies when gentle were unprofitable, and that clemency and hope of pardon might melt and reduce the spirits of the most rebellious. Whereupon they declared to the Prisoners, that they were at liberty, that they might retire where it seemed best to them; and that the Carthaginians did not fight but to defend themselves, not to cruelly massacre the Troops which had been dear unto them. The Prisoners ravished with this so agreeable and little expected sentence, testified their resentment of it by a great shout of joy, protesting that if they returned to their Army, it should not be but to speak to the advantage of the Carthaginians, and to solicit their Companions, there to make peace with a people so courteous and noble. To this effect they undertook the enterprise with success enough, and had undoubtedly brought the whole Army to have recourse to the Amnesty which Amilcar offered, had Spurius interposed an obstacle thereunto by a wickedness worthy of its Author. This Traitor judging that the clemency of Amilcar might withdraw the Rebels, cast about to engage them in the perpetration of a great crime, to raise in their spirits a perpetual despair of pardon, and to fight like men that expect no quarter. Wherefore he caused a kind of Tribunal to be brought, which was provided for that purpose, and beholding all the Officers which he had summoned about him, he spoke to them in this manner; My Companions, I esteem you too much, to be able to suffer to the prejudice of your Glory, a certain report which is blown about the Army; I have, notwithstanding my wounds, enforced myself to come and advertise you of it, and to furnish you with an expedient to teach all Africa, that they which are engaged for its liberty, are not capable of a sordid thought. I have been told (but I crave your pardon if I dare to speak it as of myself) I have, I say, been told (●since it is necessary you should know it to suppress the imposture) that you were upon the point not to quit your glorious undertaking, or retire home to your Houses: but, that which is now stranger than these, to deliver yourselves up into the hands of your enemies. Yes, my Companions, I have been told it more than once; and moreover, I have been credibly assured, that a counterfeit goodness of Amilcar had induced you to take up this resolution, and that the mercy he had shown to some of our Soldiers, was an invitation to this design: Do not you see, my Companions (continued the Traitor) that this pardon is an effect of the weakness, rather than of the Generosity of our Enemies? They give the same thing to day which they intent to take to morrow, and teach us that they dare not injure those of our party for fear of provoking us: in a word, not being able to conquer by open force, they pretend accommodation & peace which would be at length more dangerous to us, than a cruel War. This artifice is too course for your understanding, and your courage is too great to permit you to employ the pity, rather than the strength of your Enemies: You will, I question not, be shortly in a condition to Pardon yourselves, and to punish, and rule in Carthage in your turn. It is fit therefore that you demonstrate yourselves not base enough to hope in the clemency of another: it is fit to offend our enemies, that they may see that we fear not such persons as we provoke. You have Giscon in prison, one of your Tyrants; punish him and all the Carthaginians that you have with him; revenge yourselves for the miseries they have formerly made you undergo, and preserve the right which force hath given you to do justice, and to condemn your persecutors.  
This discourse of the inhuman Spendius was followed with a confused muttering of voices, which seemed to be divided: but at last these perfidious Auditors having given a cruel applause, ran instantly to se●se on Giscon, and the seven hundred Carthaginians above mentioned, and loading them with strong fetters, they lead them forth of the Camp into a little valley. Ah, My Lord (said Asper sighing) how cruel is my memory in representing to me again the inhumanity of these revolters? yet I will not describe it to you, that I leave not an unpleasing Idea in your minds, but content myself to tell you that they stoned all the Carthaginians after they had first cut off their hands, and crucified their unfortunate Leader, whereby he endured the most cruel torments that rage could possibly suggest to Barbarians. Amilcar quickly received the news of this cruelty, together with the particularities thereof, which I have passed over in silence; and desiring to render the last duties to the Carthaginians, he dispatched a Messenger toward Spendius to demand their bodies. This Traitor, either to follow his own perverse inclination, or to yet more inflame their spirits, answered that he would not render them: that all the Carthaginians should be always treated in the same fashion; that there should not be security so much as for Envoyes and Messengers; and for what concerned the Allies of Carthage, they should be sent back after, only their hands were cut off. This answer provoked Amilcar and Narva in such manner, that these two Princes put themselves at the Head of their Army, to march directly against the Enemies, and to draw them out to fight; for the Prince Narva was now perfectly cured: and I have made (proceeded Asper) my relation without distinction of times, to avoid being troublesome by endeavouring to be circumspect. The Princes had not long marched, but they received intelligence that Matho & Authoric were advancing with forty thousand men; which news giving more joy than fear to the Carthaginians and Numidians, Amilcar and Narva, hoped a very advantageous success. The Armies were no sooner in sight, but the Princes omitted nothing of that which experienced Generals ought to do in the marshalling and disposing of their Troops, and contenting themselves to speak in few words to those whom they lead: Let us on my friends (said they) and revenge our Comrades; you are not going to fight with valiant Enemies, you are going to charge base Murderers: but do not flatter yourselves, they are of those base ones that give no quarter, and so ought to oblige you either to die or overcome, and to choose death in the heat of a battle, not to suffer it afterwards by the tortures of Barbarians. The Carthaginians and Numidians answered with a great shout, that joy and undauntedness made them rush forwards; and they went against the enemy with countenances that promised nothing but Victories, and fought very valiantly. If the passionate Narva performed brave actions, the Prince Amilcar also, though somewhat more advanced in years, discharged his part so well, that the Enemies were wholly defeated, Autharic slain by the hand of Narva, and Matho made prisoner by Amilcar. At the same time Hanno, who commanded within the Town, made a sally out upon the quarters of Spendius, where he got very great advantage, in so much that the Carthaginians were upon the point to march directly to the Rebel's Camp to force their Trenches. But Amilcar restrained them, & determined to call a Council of War, wherein it was resolved by the advice of the Prince, to withhold the Carthaginians, and not to enterprise so suddenly the raising of the siege; but to entrench themselves near the enemy's Camp, and cut off all their Avenues. There was no delay to put this design in execution, so that within a few days the Barbarians saw themselves enclosed between the City and Amilcar's Camp; and though on the other two sides they had only the Sea and a Lake, yet they were destitute of Ships and Boats to do themselves any benefit by them, whereby they were reduced in a short time to a strange extremity, for refusing with an inconceivable obstinacy the peace which was offered them, there became so great a famine in their Camp, that they were constrained to kill and eat all their Horses of service; they even eat those which were slain at the assaults which were made at several times. There cruelty rested not here, they murdered divers of their Companions which were wounded, instead of succouring them, and were brought at length to cut the throats of their slaves and eat them. Amilcar intended to let them perish by little and little; but the impatient Numidian, who desired with all speed to see the Princess Asdrulia, was in the mind to attempt their lives, which he did with so great valour, that being backed by Amilcar, and assisted by a sally which Hanno made at the same time, there was a complete Victory obtained. Spendius was taken prisoner, all his Troops cut in pieces, except a few Soldiers that were drowned in the Sea and the Lake, by which they endeavoured to save themselves. After this defeat, the Conquerors entered into the City, where they were received with all the joy and acclamations wherewith important actions are wont to be solemnised. And as they beheld Spendius and Matho who were led after the Princes, they fell upon the Traitors, and tearing them in a thousand pieces, punished them for some part of their crimes. On the morning after, there was a great Sacrifice celebrated to render thanks to the Gods. After which Amilcar intended to recompense the Numidian Prince, by giving him his Daughter the fair Princess Asdrulia. I will not entertain you with the description of the Feasts and public rejoicings, nor hold you with discourse of Narva's joy, or that of the Princess Asdrulia, nor of their loves which preceded that Declaration which the Numidian Prince made to the Prince Amilcar, as being not much to my story. I shall only tell you, that upon the end of this War, which was termed Irreconcilable, because it could never have ended but with the total ruin of one party, Hippo, Ulica, and Tunis, put all their Garrison to the sword, and deputed some of their prime Citizens to Carthage, to declare their return under its Government. Soon after the Assembly of the Estates General was holden, wherein it was ordained (that seeing the Prince Amilcar had always very well served the Republic, had sold all his goods to discharge the debts of the public, that he had even bestowed the Princess Asdrulia his Daughter to acquit Carthage, of the services it had received from Narva; It was ordained, I say, that the Prince Amilcar should be confirmed in the charge of Prince of the Senate which had been formerly given him, and which he had made no use of, but to the quiet and advantage of the City, even with the peril of his own life. After which the affair of Sardinia was deliberated upon, it was believed, there could have been no commotion in this Island without some foreign Abetters; and so that it must needs be that the Romans had stirred up the Rebellion, which they had made sufficiently apparent, when they put themselves into the best of its fortresses. And being it was not permitted to abet the Rebellious subjects of a Republic that was in league with them, the injustice of the Roman proceedings was laid open; but without clear examination of the nature of the offence which Carthage received thereby, because she was not yet in a condition to demand reason of them for it. You see therefore, My Lords, how the Illustrious Amilcar obtained the charge which is so worthily executed by the Prince Hannibal at this day; and you also understand the reasons which have obliged my Master to make War upon the Romans; and that this is enough to authorise a digression in some measure, which possibly may have seemed too tedious. Now whereas I have neglected to observe the difference of times, you will not wonder if I tell you, that the little Hannibal was now grown to be capable of receiving some instructions, and that his excellent genius supplying the defect of his age, he so well seconded the care of his Masters, that he gained the admiration of all the City. The Prince Amilcar beheld these fair beginnings with some pleasure, and not wholly relying in the esteem of the people, who too forwardly admire any thing they find in persons raised above them, he designed to educate the young Hannibal after a clearly particular fashion, and to lead him to the Army as into an Illustrious Academy, where he might learn and practise the exercises which should be appointed him. Occasion was not slow to present itself: for the young Prince had scarce completed his ninth year, when news was brought to Carthage, that in Spain the Victones were revolted, and that not content to refuse the payment of the ordinary Tribute, they had slain those that were to exact it, and used all the Carthaginians in the same sort, who had put themselves into a posture to maintain them. The Prince Amilcar determined to go and ●ame these Rebels, and when all things were in readiness for this expedition; he would not set forth from Carthage till he had first rendered the Gods propitious. Wherefore he repaired to the Temple to Sacrifice, and as he prayed to the Gods to protect the interests of a just Dominion, and to give Carthage good success in the War which he undertook; At this word of War, the little Hannibal, who had followed his Father, interrupted him, and by a young transport which made him lose all considerations: How? to the War? (said he with eagerness) I will go to it. Amilcar, notwithstanding his attention at his prayers, was touched with this distraction, which appeared to him as charming, as it was extraordinary, and thereupon calling to mind the apparition of Queen Dido, with what she had foretold of Hannibal, and thinking on the loss of a part of Sicily, and the usurpation of Sardinia by the Romans, he conceived that it would give a strong impression of hatred to his Son towards a people with whom he had in appearance made a Peace, which he had very great cause to break. Whereupon he took the hand of the little Hannibal, and causing him to lay it upon the Altar (as all the world hath known since) Hannibal (said he to him, will you swear before the Immortal Gods to be an Enemy to the Romans who have taken Sicily and Sardinia from us? I will do it (answered Hannibal, with a countenance beyond one of his age) and I swear by the great Gods, (cried he, turning his face towards the Altar) that I will be an enemy to the Romans to my last breath. Amilcar, after this Oath, and some prayers which he made besides, went forth of the Temple and retired to his Palace. He was ravished with having seen in his Hannibal so fair tokens of future greatness, and to enjoy the pleasure yet more, wherewith he could not be satisfied, he caused him to be brought to him to consider him attentively. But he was strangely surprised, when he saw that sadness had chased from the visage of Hannibal, that young fierceness which was wont to animate him, and observed a melancholy in it, of which he could not have been capable of in the tenderness of his years. Amilcar caressed the little Prince, and demanded the cause of his discontent; to which he urged him so pressingly, that the generous youth answered him; Ah, My Lord! I am an enemy to the Romans, and do not yet make War upon them. Amilcar was transported with joy at these words, he kissed his dear Hannibal a thousand times, and told him to comfort him, that he was not yet in a condition to make War; that neither his Oath nor his Honour did oblige him to an impossibility; and that he must expect strength from time to execute his generous designs. But, My Lord, (answered Hannibal) why do you delay to do it? I wait (replied the Prince Amilcar seriously) till the troubles of Spain be composed. After which I intent to go into Italy, and I promise you to carry you thither. Soon after the Prince Amilcar performed what he had promised to the little Prince; he lead him into Spain with him, to render him known and dear to all the Troops which he commanded: and although the little Hannibal was yet uncapable to serve in Armies, and that some friends represented to his Father that that was not a fitting place to breed and frame the manners of a young Prince; nevertheless, Amilcar liked better that Hannibal should acquire an air and deportment too free and fierce in an Army, then to be accomplished in the delicate politeness of Carthage: Beside this consideration which Amilcar had to render him wholly a Warrior, because he knew him completely generous, the tenderness of paternal love was so prevalent in this regard, that would not permit Amilcar to be separated from his dear Child, for whom he had an affection as extraordinary as his hopes. I will not trouble you, My Lords, with relating the imbarkement of the Prince Amilcar, or his voyage, seeing he arrived at Spain without any remarkable adventure: Nor will I detain you with the conversations he took delight to make with Hannibal, & the agreeable answers made therein by this little Prince; having so great matters to rehearse, that to avoid being extremely prolix, I am constrained to pass over the pleasant in silence. You shall only know (continued Aspar) that the Prince Amilcar defeated the Rebel Victones, and reduced them under the Carthaginians obedience; and likewise that he governed the affairs of Spain in sufficient peace during some years. It was about this time that I was given to the Prince Hannibal, and at the same, that with all the Carthaginians, I admired the brave qualities of my Master. The aspect of this Prince began to seem very high, his eyes were filled with a fire that may be truly termed Martial, his stature was comely, his genius solid, although very active; but it may be justly said, that all these qualities gave place to the greatness of his courage, of which he gave so glorious proofs, and his valour, although in the blossom was so much admired, that Amilcar did not consider him, but with greater transports of joy than I am able to express. For the Vectones having not continued in their duty, but for want of power to quit it with strength enough, had always in their hearts the seeds of Rebellion: and as people which are tainted with this kind of malady; are like ordinary sick persons, who seek rest by tossing up and down; so the Vectones stirred again, without considering that they did in effect lose that quiet by their revolts which they imagined they should obtain. Advertisement was given Amilcar, that within three or four principal Cities they had began to proclaim Liberty; and being this word is apt to touch the hearts of people, and that example is very powerful in this sort of conjunctures, eighteen or twenty of the best Cities of Spain did the same thing; so that in a short while after Amilcar saw an Army of forty thousand men upon him. Wherefore the Prince took the Campagne with all the forces he could assemble, intending not to give the enemy's time to understand their own and increase them, but resolved forthwith to present them battle. It was in this occasion where Hannibal signalised himself by a hundred gallant actions which he performed at the Head of the Volunteirs. But I should never come to an end, if I should reckon up all the places where he fought. Therefore to be brief, I must assure you that he fought every where, where his presence was necessary; and that wheresoever he fought, he animated his party both by his voice and by his example, and beat down all his enemies that made head against him. At length the Prince Hannibal put the Rebels to slight, after he had slain fifteen thousand of them. I say the Prince Hannibal, My Lords, since it is certain that he carried this Victory by his conduct, and by his great courage. The Rebels rallied again, and fought several times after, but the advantage continued always entire with us. During this war it may be said, that my Master began to discover those fair accomplishments and habitudes which now fill the mouths of the whole world. He never thought upon himself till he had put every thing else in order; he neither eat nor slept, but when time and the exigence of affairs permitted him: he oftentimes lay in the Corpse du Guard, but that which hath been observed for the most generous and singular in this Prince, is, that in this War, and in all others, as without doubt you all know, My Lords, he hath been always the first to charge, and the last to make the retreat. But, My Lords, I come at length to give you an account of that bloody battle of Castel-alto, where the Vectones were absolutely defeated: but, alas! where we finished the Victory with the loss of the great Amilcar: This Prince not being able to suffer that Hannibal should be exposed to so great dangers, rushed forward to partake with him who was figting on all sides; and after he had performed all that a valiant man, and of an age less declining could have done, he was dispatched with three or four wounds which he received at the same instant, and could utter only these words; Ah, Hannibal! I leave thee in danger! My Master, who had never cast eye upon his enemies but to beat them, knowing the sound of this voice, turned his head, and seeing the great Amil●ar fall under the Horse's feet, whom he loved and honoured infinitely, he cast himself upon the ground to embrace him, and perceiving that he was dead, he uttered all the resenting words that tenderness could inspire a Son with, and afterwards betook himself to do all that rage could enforce to, when in its greatest extent. For having caused the body of Amilcar to be carried to the Camp, and being become more terrible, and covered all over with blood, he remounted his Horse, and soon carried terror and death to every place, where he discharged his dreadful blows. It is impossible, My Lords, to represent unto you, all that he did in this fury; it is enough to let you know, that never any enraged Lion in our Africa did so much as our provoked Prince did in this occasion. At length our enemies were cut in pieces, and the Prince Hannibal, who had committed nothing that a man resolved to perish could attempt, found himself but lightly wounded in three places of his body. After this general defeat of the Vectones, which cost us so dear, my Master caused the body of Amilcar to be interred, with all the military pomp that could be imagined. But the tears of the Carthaginians were more glorious to the deceased Prince, than any ceremony whatsoever; and 'tis credible this death did so sensible touch our Soldiers, that it might have been conceived by our Army, that the loss of Carthage was involved in that of Amilcar, if that Prince had not repaired it in leaving us the great Hannibal. For all the Commanders and Soldiers remarked in my Master all the accomplishments of Amilcar, and had then saluted him General, if at Carthage it had not been deemed convenient to make a kind of interraign by putting the sovereign authority into the hands of the Prince Asdrubal, who was Brother-in-law to Hannibal, by marrying the Princess Magarisbe: for my Master was looked upon as too young to manage the affairs of our Empire You know without doubt, My Lords, that Asdrubal was slain three years after his advancement, and that the Prince Hannibal was declared Prince, of the Republic of Carthage, and Generallissimo of all its Armies, notwithstanding the canvasing of Hanno, who was head of a contrary party. My Master was no sooner raised to this great dignity, but he framed a design not less noble and eminent, than the condition he was in, for not contenting himself to go into Sicily or Sardinia to recover them, he determined to carry the War into Italy & gain a conquest worthy of his courage in marching against the proud Rome. But being of a deep entendment, he would not enterprise this War but upon reasonable grounds, because his late Brother-in-law Asdrubal, had also made an alliance with the Romans, of which the principal Article was, that the River Iberus should part both the Empires, and that the Saguntines should be Neuters. Hannibal, to the end he might be better served by his Soldiers, and not incur the hatred of the people, made it evident that he had cause to complain of the Saguntines, who had joined themselves to the interests of Rome, contrary to what had been agreed, and drew forth his Army to march against the Sag●ntines, declaring it his purpose rather to revenge the outrage, then to possess himself of the Territories of another: he saw notwithstanding that Rome would declare herself for a people that had declared for her, and that so the Romans appearing invaders of the Carthaginians, he might represent them odious to the Nations which should be infested with this War, and might fight his Enemies with the aid and assistance of several people, who would look upon him as a Prince injustly attaqued. But in the first place, before he set upon the Saguntines, he marched against the Olcades, who are situated on this side the River Iberus. I shall not recite you the particular adventures of this War; but only tell you, that Hannibal in four months conquered this Province, and took the rich City Carteia, which was the Metropolis of it. From Carteia he went to take up his winter quarters at New Carthage, where he caressed all the Commanders and Soldiers of his Army, commending the vivacity and greatness of their courage; and thereupon making a division to them of all the spoils, he yet more satisfied them then by all his Eulogiums. As soon as the Sun by his approaches began to chase away the cold, which is wont to incommodate Armies: Hannibal took the field, and caused his to march against the Vacceans. This Prince was too valiant to meet with any great resistance; so that he overcame the Vacceans, besieged and took the great Cities of Hermandica and Arbacala; and after so good success, attaqued also the Carpen aines; But it was not without pains that my Master achieved this last enterprise; for their Army▪ which consisted of a hundred thousand men, was yet extremely engrossed by the Soldiers, which were saved of the Olcades, and by very many others which had fled from Hermandica and Arbacala. The Prince Hannibal intended to refresh and recruit his Army which was weakened by several battles, and the Garrisons which he was enforced to draw out of it: whereupon he designed to divide this Victory between his wit and his courage; For making semblance to avoid the encounter, he passed the Tagus unawares to the Carpentaines who were asleep; and so well managed his affairs, that about break of day the Enemies perceiving our flight, cast themselves immediately into the Tagus all in disorder, to pursue the Troops which seemed to fear them, and not to lose this occasion of beating the great Hannibal. But if they deceived themselves, when they judged we had taken flight to avoid the combat, they did so much more, when they believed themselves able to overcome the famous Prince of Carthage. For, my valiant Master no sooner observed the Carpentains disorderly fording the River Tagus, but he placed forty Elephants upon the bank to crush such as should endeavour to gain it: after which he entered into the Tagus at the head of all his Cavalry, and suddenly died the waters with the blood of his enemies: He beat down and trampled on every thing that opposed him, and showed that he was not less invincible in this kind of field then in the ordinary. Nevertheless to have one more solid, he gained the other bank of the River; and there it was that he performed actions wholly miraculous, for he slew the General of the Enemies, and at length completed the entire overthrow of the Carpentains, whilst the Tagus wafted with its waters, the first effects of his valour, and first marks of his Victory. Upon so many glorious successes, the Prince Hannibal saw himself absolute. Master of all that part of Spain which is on this side of Iberus, except the strong City of Saguntum, and that which belonged to their Jurisdiction: wherefore he resolved no longer to defer the siege of this City, but advancing his victorious Army towards it, he caused a Line and a ●rench to be drawn about it. He determined to storm this City in three places, and accordingly appointed Quarters. My Master himself would command on that side of the plain where the walls were weakest, because he knew that all the choice of the youth of Saguntnm would be placed to fight there, being commanded by valiant persons, who had put themselves into the City, & as the Prince Hannibal prefers the fight at hand blows before all other; he hoped they would make sallies out at his place; and also that having more easily made a breach in the walls which were not regularly fortified, nor flanked but upon one side with a great Tower, he might soon obtain his enterprise by entering into the City. Maharbal, Son of Himilcon, first Lieutenant-General, commanded on that side which was next the Sea: for you know, My Lords, that Saguntum is not very remote from it, and that the Saguntines who came from the Island of Zacynthus, being mingled with the people descended from the Rutilians, chose this situation as the fairest and most advantageous that could be desired, wherein he built a City. If I may be permitted to speak a few words on this subject, I shall tell you, that Saguntum was become extremely puissant in a short time: for if on one side it had a most fertile plain, and of great extent; on the other side the Sea supplied it every day with new riches; besides, that this Town after its establishment, drew all the good Houses of the Vicinage to it, who were glad to go live with a people which had the reputation of being well governed, and the urbanity of whose manners was according to fame, in very great esteem. But I must reassume my story, and tell you, that Anno second lieutenant-general, and Attains King of the Turdetaines, commanded the third quarter, which was on the side of the mountain which separates Spain from the Celtiberians; and that we understood by some Prisoners we took, that Lucius, Prince of the Celtiberians, had put himself into Saguntum with some Troops. We also afterwards learned, that there was entered into it a young Roman of great quality, and very much courage, whom we were told was Regulus. I shall not need to tell you that Lucius commanded the Quarter, which my Master was to attaque; that the Prince of Castulon who was Prince of the Senate of Saguntum, was to oppose Maharbal; and that Regulus his command was to resist Anno. If you please, all but the particularities which concern my Master shall be omitted, since it is his life that I am recounting to you; and I conceive that it suffices to tell you, that during the length of the siege, Maharbal and Anno fought very valiantly, and with success as various. Sometimes there was a breach made in the walls of Saguntum, and the Citizens were closely assaulted; but soon after, the Saguntines having repaired their walls, issued forth with great alacrity and bravery, and attempted even to burn the Engines of the Carthaginians, after they had also beat them back to their Trenches. But all these efforts were nothing to those which passed between the great Hannibal and the valiant Lucius; for I believe, never was any Quarter seen either more boldly assaulted, or more vigorously defended. My Master conceived much choler to find this resistance; and to the end he might mate the Saguntines even in their own City, he caused a prodigious Mactrine to be framed, which might overpower all the defences of Saguntum, & which was to be impelled against the walls. While this movable Tower was finishing, the Prince Lucius sallied forth in the Head of five or six thousand men, and came to defy my Master with a confidence very warlike. The hearse Carthaginian presently put himself in the Head of a number of his own, which was within a little equal to that which Lucius had; and these two generous Princes soon began a combat with such valour, that their Troops remained almost unmovable to regard them with attention. Hannibal! (cried the Prince of Celtiberia) you must either perish or make Lucius perish, to facilitate the winning of Saguntum. I do not find much appearance of the former (answered the Prince of Carthage fiercely) and my sword shall soon declare the rest. They were too eager to continue longer, and lose the time they meant to employ in fight and victory. The Spears which they made use of in the first brunt, were immediately broken in a thousand pieces, and their Horses, although very strong and robust, were scarce able to hold up the first charge; that of the Prince Lucius was a horse of Lucitania, and that of my Master of Carthage. The valour of the Celtiberian Prince was indeed remarkable, but it was not wholly equal to that of my Master; for after their mutual resistance had dured some time, Hannibal hurt Lucius in the right arm, avoiding all his blows with an admirable address. Nevertheless, the Prince of Celtiberia, who had designed to perish or conquer, and spoke accordingly at the beginning of the encounter, dealt his enemy so great a stroke that it pierced his thigh, and even nailed it, as I may say, to the bow of his saddle, wherein the sword of the Celtiberian remained fixed, the Prince not having force to draw it forth; for at the same moment, my Master gave him such a thrust with so great address, that his sword meeting with the defect of his cuirace, was sheathed in the body of the Prince of Celtiberia, and was also fastened there either by the closure of his arms, or the force of the pass, that my Master abandoned it, being not willing to lose time in drawing it ●orth. But on the other side, encouraging his Horse with his voice and his spur, he embraced his enemy, and shook him so rudely, that he caused him at length to tumble between the feet of the Horses, where presently there were seen issuing from him two or three rivulets of blood. Upon this ill fortune of Lucius, the Saguntines and Celtiberians assailed the Carthaginians vigorously; and either party having put themselves in order for the ready succour of their Prince, there immediately began a most bloody encounter. You wonder, perhaps, My Lords, how these Troops could continue in sight thus with fight; but your wonder will cease, when you know that Lucius (according as we learned of a Saguntine prisoner) had promised that day the Princess of Castulon, daughter to the Prince of Saguntum, to fight with Hannibal, and that to show that it was he that combated the Prince of Carthage, he had prohibited all his Troops to set upon those of Hannibal, and enjoined them to be contented with defending themselves in this occasion. My generous Master had no sooner observed the countenance of Lucius, and that of the Saguntines, but in a manner he judged of their design; and therefore giving order to the Carthaginians, little different from that of Lucius, he began the fight which I have related to you. This particularity, which was perhaps hitherto unknown to you, is not the only one of remark in this adventure; but that which was somewhat more extraordinary was, that the Prince Hannibal bore away the sword of Lucius, the guard of which was enriched with Rubies, as that of my Master, which Lucius carried with him, had the guard covered with Diamonds. In the Camp and the City the wounds of these two generous Princes were so resented, that in a manner there was nothing done during two months, and Saguntum was rather enclosed then besieged: not but the Carthaginians did continually labour against the wall with the movable Tower I spoke of, or in preparing battering Rams, and all kind or Engines necessary to batter a City. The Saguntines on their part, forgot not to repair their walls, and also to forge a sort of weapon which I had never till then heard of. For they invented a kind of Dart, which they termed Falarick, the Spear of which was square like that of a Javelin; but that which was most admirable, was, that they covered the point of the Falarick with certain Materials extremely combustible; to which they gave fire when they cast them forth, whereby the motion augmenting it into flame, they almost burned all the Engines on which the fire could lay hold. But this is not all the power of a Falarick, for the Spear of it being three feet in length, it easily pierced the arms and bodies of the Soldiers, and did not less amuse them when it lighted only upon their bucklers: for the fire seized on them in such sort, that the soldiers were enforced to quit them: and they did not only in this condition remain exposed to the blows of their enemies, but likewise caused terror in their companions. After these two months were passed, during which there was nothing but some slight on-sets made, Hannibal began to be in a state to mount his Horse: wherefore he resolved to press the City vigorously, and caused a rolling Tower which was new made to be advanced against the walls, placing in the highest story thereof Catapults and Balists, and began to fight the Saguntines in their own City, and showed them a dreadful fortress which overawed all their fortifications. The Saguntines were astonished at the sight of this formidable Machine▪ so that not daring to appear upon the walls, they afforded time to the Prince Hannibal to execute his enterprise. For he sent five hundred Africans with Pix-axes and Mattocks to demolish a pane of old wall which was not built with lime, but only cemented with a kind of mortar made of earth. At the same time advertisement was given my Master of two Ambassadors which were coming to him from Rome. Hannibal immediately sent some persons to the Seashore, there to attend their arrival, and to denounce to them not to hazard themselves to pass into the Camp of the Carthaginians; for perhaps it would be dangerous for them, since they were to traverse a Country which was universally in combustion. This is the naked verity of this affair, although some have presumed to say that my Master gave them audience. Nevertheless it is true, that however the business was carried, the Roman Ambassadors had no satisfaction from the Prince Hannibal, and were constrained to go to Carthage to endeavour to speed better there. In the mean time, my Master, who would lose no time, caused his Rams to be drawn against another pane of the wall, and battered it in such manner, that it fell at length about the same time that the five hundred Africans beat down theirs. Then the Carthaginians seeing the City open, shouted forth with so great a cry as might have struck dread and terror into the Saguntines. But it must be confessed that they fought with greater valour than before: and I know not whether despair augmented their courage, or necessity caused them to employ their utmost powers; but however it were, I assure you they did things beyond belief. Lucius, although yet feeble, appeared in the head of them; Regulus hastened to his aid; and these two valiant persons beating down the ruins of the walls and houses, performed such gallant actions, as it may be thought that never in the like occasions was ground disputed with more generosity. But at last the Saguntines perceiving that their efforts did but defer the taking of their City without being able to hinder it, they took so strange a resolution, that all Posterity will be astonished at it: For they separated themselves into two Troops, whereof one did still make some resistance to my Master, while the other repaired to the great Court of the Palace, to prepare a great pile of wood wherewith to burn whatsoever was precious in Saguntine. These wretched men carried on their resolution yet further, and not content to burn their richest moveables, they cast themselves into the fire, being driven either out of excessive generosity, or extreme despair. This rage of the Saguntines (if I may so call the passion which animated them) increased that of the Carthaginians, who saw themselves deprived of the booty which they had hoped; but it increased it in such sort, that never was there seen so great a desolation in a like rancounter. The Prince Hannibal was constrained during three or four hours, to behold many excesses, which he could not hinder, but at length after he had put some order in the City, he advanced to the Palace, whose Gates were thrown down, whereby many Carthaginians crowded in. But scarce had they made a few paces in the first hall, but there was presented two Prisoners of a very noble aspect, which it was said were Lucius and Regulus. Hannibal suddenly caused the Soldiers which environed them to retire; and beholding the Prince of Celtiberia attentively, he asked him what he could expect from an enemy whose life he had attempted, and who by the fortune of War had now an absolute power over his? I expect (answered the generous Prince) with sufficient indifferency, any thing that can possibly befall me; & without pretending to a favourable treatment, I conceive I have deserved death, in that I have not given it to the destroyer of Saguntum. Nevertheless (added he) if I may be permitted to make one request after this free confession, I should presume. O Hannibal, to beseech your care of the fair Princess Thomira, and not to suffer a person wholly adorable to be treated without respect. She is in a Chamber under the guard of an Officer whom I heard called by the name of Magar, and whither she was conducted by me, after I had restrained her from the death she would have inflicted upon herself. Behold all that I request (continued he) to die entirely satisfied, as indeed I shall do, if I learn before hand that Hannibal is not less generous toward the Princess of Castulon, than he hath been valiant against the Saguntines, and against a Prince who tenderly loved that poor people, My Master, who is of a haughty humour, had much regret to suffer the former words of Lucius, and not being able to conceive that such language ought to be used before Hannibal, he was at the point of falling upon the Prince of Celtiberia. But this Illustrious Carthaginian moderated his choler, to which his temper so much disposed him by his generosity, and considering the young Prince, unfortunate, a prisoner, and withal generous, he esteemed him the more for it, and would not condemn in L●cius such sentiments as aught to be generally approved. Moreover, he knew that a Prince who was destinated to a Throne, ought never to act otherwise then nobly; and that since Lucius gave marks of his great courage even in his bad fortune, it was fitting to preserve him to reign one day in Celtiberia as a Prince truly worthy to govern so Warlike a Nation. Whereupon after a little musing, he was about to speak to Lucius and Regulu●; but observing suddenly that they were all covered with blood, and wounded in three or four places, he was sensibly touched with it, and so putting them under the guard of A●herbal, he commanded that a particular care should be had of them. Scarce had my Master given this Order to Adherbal, but Magar came to tell him that he had seven or eight fair prisoners in a Chamber, where he had left the Captain of the Guard to the King of the Turdetanes; but that amongst those Prisoners there was the fairest person that ever eye beheld, and that she was said to be the daughter of the Prince of Castulon, perfect of Saguntum, who was miserably slain. Besides (added he, with a transport which he could not contain) I have seen this admirable Person; but I dare assure you, My Lord, that I never saw any thing so fair, and that I do not except even our fair Princess Saphonisba. After this advantageous relation of Lucius and Magar, the prince Hannibal intended to go to the Chamber where the fair princess of Castulon was, to endeavour to administer some consolation to the misfortunes he had caused. But scarce had the Guard opened the door, but my Master was surprised when he saw the Chamber so splendidly beset, and understood that the King of the Turdetanes had sent his Guards to the Palace, as soon as Saguntum was taken to secure the retreat of the fair Thomira from the insolence of the Soldier. The prince of Carthage advanced a few steps in the Chamber; but as soon as the prisoner-Ladies learned who he was, the principal of them came to cast themselves at his feet. My Master soon put himself to the trouble of raising them up, and perceiving the tears of these fair Captives, he resented (at least as he told us afterwards) I know not what agreeable emotion, which made him find more sweetness in the winning of Saguntum, than he had tasted in all his Victories. It is true, this thought was of no long continuance; for casting his eyes to the b●d, on which the princess Thomira was, he became as it were immovable by a sudden astonishment, or by I know not what kind of ecstasy which seized upon him. This bed was covered with a pavilion of cloth of Gold and silk, the colour of which was extremely glittering, and approaching to that of fire: but Thomira so powerfully drew the eyes of the standers by upon herself, that they could not be diverted to the regarding of the richness of this Furniture. This fair princess was carelessly laid upon the bed; and if we could conjecture that her stature was comely, her countenance, which we saw without obstacle, appeared incomparably more lovely. Her colour was extremely clear and delicate, her hair as black as Ebenie, her eyes large and well fashioned, very pleasing, and of the colour of her Hair: and although Thomira held them open, yet thy seemed to have their sight retired into themselves, either by reason of a profound sadness, or that they might behold nothing, because they could not see any thing but objects of sorrow. If tears did not fall from these fair eyes, no more did sighs break forth of the fair mouth of Thomira; but this afflicted beauty disdained both sighs and tears, as Tokens too conformable to vulgar sorrow. Besides, these Graces which I have mentioned in brief, chance contribute something to augment her comeliness, as if it had been designed my Master should see it in its perfection; there was so agreeable a reflection of the colour of the Pavilion, and the Pillow on which she supported herself, upon the cheeks of this fair princess, that it seemed as if they received by an innocent loan, a vivacity which they could not have naturally in the condition this afflicted fair was in. In a word, this admirable beauty of Thomira was not that which moved most resentment; but there was observed upon the divine countenance of a princess, of sixteen or seventeen years, so languishing an air, and so sweet and charming a sadness, that all the hearts of the beholders were melted with the spectacle, and possessed with a compassion more strong and unquiet then is ordinarily felt in cases of moving pity! Nevertheless we soon remarked the difference between the deportment of my Master towards this charming object, and the attention of the Carthaginians which followed their Prince. For the illustrious Hannibal fixed his view so firmly upon the countenance of the Princess Thomira, that he was not able to turn it aside; and although he was several times advertised of some small disorders amongst the Soldiers which his presence might quiet, yet he could never resolve to leave the room, but answering as briefly as he could, he remitted all affairs to Maharbal. But soon after notice was brought him, that Regulus would not suffer his wounds to be searched, and protested confidently that the Son of the unfortunate Atilius liked better to die, then to receive his cure from Carthaginian Chirurgeons. Let others be appointed then to do it (answered the Prince Hannibal) and as he who spoke to him was exaggerating the aversion which that Roman had against all Carthaginians, my Master commanded him silence in a way sufficiently rough, and gave us to know, that he considered all these informations and discourses but as troublesome distractions.  
But he failed not speedily to redouble his attention in beholding the fair Princess Thomira, as if he would repair the loss of some moments which believed he had misployed: and this great man seemed so touched with considering this louly-sorrowful, that we perceived an alteration both in his countenance and gesture. His fierce air became sweetened by little and little, and he found himself inclinable to sigh; by which marks of his compassion, I observed that great souls are liable to the softer and more tranquil passions. This Prince, as an evidence of his tenderness and respect, durst not speak to the Princess of Castulon: and although he believed any other tongue as well as his own, incapable to sufficiently express his sentiments, yet he found himself constrained to request one of the Saguntine Ladies to comfort the Princess Thomira, and to assure her in his name, that she should be treated with all possible respect. This Lady discharged her commission with joy, and being approached to the afflicted Princess, told her all that she thought effectual to moderate and calm her sorrows: Madam (said she, endeavouring to compose all her inward grief, by appearing a little satisfied) our misfortunes are not in that extremity which you believe, and the Prince which hath caused them, hath the generosity to mitigate them, and make us hope much more than we durst pretend to in the unhappy estate whereinto he had reduced us. Do not conceive, Madam (added she) that I flatter myself in my misery; the Prince Hannibal commanded me himself to speak to you in this manner; and for that he does not assure you so much by his own mouth, it is because in the condition wherein he sees you, he believes that you cannot hear it, not receive agreeably that which he would offer unto you. Great Gods! Is Hannibal then in my Chamber? (cried the Princess of Castulon) Yes, Madam, answered my Master, he is; but it is to offer you all the honours and respects which are due to persons of an extraordinary merit. O Gods! (replied Thomira) after which she turned her face toward the contrary side, to avoid the danger of seeing the person who had made her miserable. Hannibal understanding that his presence might further augment the inquietude of this fair person, with great reluctancy he went out of the Chamber, having first commanded Magar to take care of the service of Thomira with much respect, and that all the Prisoner-Ladies might receive civil treatment. But at the same time that my Master would leave Thomira to avoid inquieting her, the Idea of this afflicted Fair, began to inquiet him in so strange a manner, that it was a great aggravation to it, that he could not precisely judge whether his inquietudes were really pleasing or perplexing. Whence comes it (said he within himself, after he had given necessary Orders for the Troops and the City, and was retired into a Chamber prepared for him) whence comes it (said the Prince) that I feel certain agitations which I never resented hitherto? whence comes it that the sight of a few prisoners hath caused in me I know not what kind of emotion which pleases me, and yet is troublesome altogether? Is it, for that I was not prepared to see things not ordinary in the taking of Cities? Hast thou not seen, O Hannibal, the fair prisoners of Carteia, Hermandica and Herbacate, and many other brave Towns which thou hast reduced by thy arms? shall not thou see the like in Italy? and dost thou not intend also to see of them at Rome? and this Hannibal who hath contrived the greatest design that can fall within humane invention; this Hannibal who is resolved to attaque that proud City, whose ambition is to pass for the Queen and subduer of all Nations; this Hannibal, who will either perish or render himself Master of the world, is it fit for him to be touched with certain small occurrencies which have nothing of surprising or rare in them? No, no, Hannibal, thou oughtest not to be touched with them; it is enough that thou showest some testimonies of compassion to the persons whom thy Victories make unhappy; but thou oughtest not to express an abject tenderness which is unworthy the heart and glory of Hannibal. This Prince believed that he had taken a resolution sufficiently strong to pass away the night with quiet; but after some moments of repose, the Idea of Thomira returned into his imagination; but the Idea of Thomira perfectly fair, afflicted, and that by Hannibal. This caused tender sentiments to succeed in my Master's breast to those former severe ones, & representing to himself the princess of Castulon in the condition he had seen her, he observed so many charms in her eyes and countenance, together with a languour so affecting, that the Prince had instantly certain transports, whose nature he did not understand. But as this great man hath a strong soul, his mind would confirm itself against these sorts of attaques, which notwithstanding were sometimes not otherwise then pleasing: he believed that he did not well support the glory of Hannibal, when he found himself of sentiments which he judged not heroic, and therefore endeavoured to chase the Idea of Thomira out of his mind, & extinguish those thoughts which seemed most conformable to his inclination. Wherepon he repassed in his memory all the eminent adventures he ever had achieved, and gave himself to think upon whatever glorious attempt he had made; and conceiving these thoughts more generous than those concerning of Thomira, he filled his imagination with nothing but battles, taking of Cities, Victories, and great exploits. Now it is (said he) that I acknowledge myself to be truly Hannibal; and I am no longer that weak Carthaginian, that could think upon nothing else but a distressed Damsel. Yes, Thomira (pursued he) Hannibal thinks no more of you, he hath driven away that impertinence which began to tickle him, and his mind is now strong enough to resist all your attaques. But what sayest thou, O Hannibal (resumed he soon after) thou speakest of resisting the attaques of Thomira, and dost thou not know that that young Princess is in a condition rather to receive succour from all the world, then to hurt any whatsoever? What is that which blinds thee, O Hannibal? is it that thou belivest there is any glory to be gained in chase from thy imagination the Idea of a Princess who is absolutely fair and sweet? and of a Princess, who instead of attaquing thee, is upon the point of being crushed with the violence of those sorrows which thou causest her? No, no, Hannibal, there would be as great inhumanity in endeavouring to resist such attaques, as there would be weakness not to resist in a combat: therefore resume that compassion which thou termest weakness; and permit that gentle motion to act to its full extent; nor constrain thyself to prescribe it bounds, which would not be less condemnable than the excesses of other passions. These various and contrary thoughts, which seemed to destroy one another, possessed the Prince during part of the night; after which he slept peaceably enough, and for some hours enjoyed a repose which the agitations that preceded it, made him find more sweet and comfortable. On the next morning, assoon as the Prince was in a condition to be seen, he was visited by all the principal Officers of his Army: ●●●nibal received them very civilly, and had power enough over himself to show them an air of his countenance open and smiling. Nevertheless their presence raised in him a secret shame, when he recollected that a Prince who commanded so many brave men, had during almost the whole night been engaged in a combat of a very strange nature, from which he knew not justly whether he was come off conqueror or worsted. But he was careful enough to disguise the discontentment he conceived for it, and spoke to Maharbal, Hanno, and three or four other considerable Carthaginians, who were also in his Chamber, almost in the same manner he was used to do. He informed himself of the health of Lucius, and of that of Regulus; and he even adventured to demand the news of the Prince of Castulon, without fearing to give intimation of the great interest he had therein. My Lord, as for this last (answered Maharbal) it could never be known exactly what is come of him: some say that he cast himself into the fire, to avoid combeing under the power of the Carthaginians; but others on the contrary, that he drew near the Pile, but could not be afterwards seen whether he betook himself. For the wounds of Lucius and Regulus (continued he) they are not at all dangerous: your Chirurgeons have very particular care of the Prince of Celtiberia, as those of Attanes have of the Roman Prince, who would not owe his cure to Carthaginians. But Regulus proceeds yet higher (added he) for he will not so much as treat for his ransom with the Carthaginians, and choose rather to die a prisoner, then to receive liberty from any one of a people, to whom he declares himself, even in his present condition, that he is an irreconcilable enemy. He hath won to him one of his Guards, and sent him to the King of the Turdetanes, to beseech you to take some course that he may be given to him, offering him a Ransom very considerable, as I have learned from the Messenger, who would not discharge this commission without advertising me of it, and therefore came to inform me of all that concerns the negotiation, and of the favourable answer of Attanes. Scarce had Maharbal pronounced these last words, but the King of the Turdelanes, of whom the discourse was, entered into the Chamber of Hannibal. The Prince of the Carthaginians went five or six steps towards him to receive him, and observed in his countenance very many tokens of trouble and discontent. After the first words of Civility were over. Hannibal obligingly demanded of the King of the Turdetanes, the cause of that sadness which appeared in his looks; and Attanes having signified that he would reveal it in private, Hannibal and he removed toward a large window of the Room; My Lord (said Attanes) I have a favour to request of you; but I have also just cause to fear, that you will have reluctance to accord me it. I know, perhaps (answered Hannibal) what you would demand of me. How, my Lord? (interrupted Attanes) do you know what the favour is I come to beseech you for? I believe I am not mistaken (answered Hannibal) when I conceive that you pretend to a person over whom I have power by the right of Arms: but you need not (continued he, perceiving Attanes to be more troubled) to testify any disquiet, for a thing which you shall easily obtain. Attanes thereupon made a low reverence to the Prince Hannibal, and giving him thanks, instead of the request he had intended to make him, he protested that he would be devoted to his interests to his last breath. It is most just (said he) My Lord, that I employ my life for you, since you do preserve it to me, and render me happy by granting me the fair Princess, whom you have so generously bestowed on me, and without whom my life could have been no other than a continual torment. Yes, my Lord, the princess Thomira can alone render me happy; and since you do me the favour 〈…〉 The Princess Thomira alone render you happy (interposed the impatient Prince of Carthage) and is it that fair princess which you demand? How, My Lord? (answered Attanes) are you surprised with hearing the demand you prevented me from making to you? I conceived (replied Hannibal) that you would have demanded Regulus of me, and could not have imagined you should have the sentiments which you express, for the Princess of Castulon, after what you have done. For in brief, your procedure is not effectual to persuade it, and I believe it not much more to gain the favour of Thomira. It is true, it is not very ordinary to do as I have done (answered Attanes) But, My Lord, Love hath its extravagancies as well as his blindness; so that without other deliberation then that which I drew from my despair, I believed that since my cares, services and respects, would only cause the contempt and aversion of Thomira, I was to take a course wholly contrary for the obtaining a contrary success; so that I have now a sufficiently powerful means to win the heart of Thomira. Serve yourself then of those means (replied the Prince Hannibal roughly) perceiving a hatred to rise in his breast against a man who pretended to interest in that of Thomira) and demand nothing of me after this confession which you have made, that you have taken arms to satisfy your passion rather than to advantage the concernments of Carthage. After this discourse the two Princes rejoined themselves to Maharbal, Hanno, and the other Officers which were with them; & there was an observable of no little rarity, that all this great company kept silence a considerable time together. Hannibal had a discontentment upon him, whose nature he did not understand: he ransacked his whole soul over to find its cause, but was as far to seek as before: for believing himself to be yet free from love, he could not conceive that jealousy should beget these disquiets of mind. Attanes resented a kind of repentance, which how piquant and disquiet soever it was, it argued a great distraction; and I conceive that in his inquietude, he accused himself of having spoken too much before the fierce and puissant Prince; and perhaps also he blamed himself afterwards that he had not spoke enough, nor answered to the last words of my Master. Maharbal, Hanno, and the rest dared not to begin the conversation, either out of respect, or for that they took that time to ruminate upon the cause of that which they observed upon the countenances of Hannibal, and Attanes. But, My Lords, all this company kept silence, as I told you; and when they began to break it, the conversation was so irregular, that I should be as troubled to describe it to you, as themselves were to make it. It is true, that it lasted no long time; for the King of the Turdetanes not being able to support the presence of the fierce Hannibal, after that which had passed between them, separated himself from them, and left the room, after he had performed the same civilities he was used to do, although with an air that seemed extremely forced. My Master, whose humour is haughty, constrained himself very little, and returned the King of the Turdetanes only the civilities, which he could not avoid making him, and whereunto seemliness obliged him. After which he came up again to Maharbal and Hanno, but feeling the impatience of being alone so much increase, he gave so visible tokens of it, insomuch that Maharbal and Hanno making a low reverence, went forth, and by their example obliged all the other officers to do the same. My Master being alone, walked in his Chamber with large steps, without well considering what he did, and cast about in his mind a thousand different thoughts. But at length all those Cogitations gave place to those which he had conceived against the King of the Turdetanes. How, Attanes? (said he to himself) dost thou pretend to the heart of Thomira? How? dost thou pretend to the possession of the fairest person that ever was? Ha, Attanes! do not flatter thyself herein; thou shalt never obtain the Princess Thomirr of Hannibal; but if you be obstinate in this pretention (continued he, following the violence of his humour) that Hannibal, even that Hannibal of whom thou pretendest to obtain her, shall carry fire and sword into thy States, and tear out that heart which dare insolently to offer itself to the fair Princess of Castulon. Thus continuing several turns about the Chamber, he caused me to be called, and doing me the honour to communicate his thoughts to me, he would needs know those which I had upon this occurrence. My Lord (answered I) you bring me into a strange perplexity; but since it is your pleasure to have me speak, I shall do it sincerely. I do not see (continued I) that you have cause to be so highly troubled as you are; for since the Princess Thomira is of very great merit, you ought to be glad in seeing her your Queen: and since the King of the Turdetanes, who hath served you, loves passionately the Princess of Castulon, you ought to be ravished with joy, to reward the services of Attanes by granting him the fair Thomira. How, Aspar? (replied my Master roughly) would you have me so weak as to abandon the Princess of Castulon? Alas! have I not rendered her unhappy enough, without delivering her into the hands of a man, against whom she hath a manifest aversion, which hath been justly augmented by the new causes he hath given her at the siege of Saguntum! No, no, Aspar, I will never do it; I have other means to acquit myself towards Attanes, without giving him that precious recompense: and I conceive Thomira deserves to reign over other people than the Turdetanes. Peradventure you reserve the fair Thomira for a greater Prince (said I to him smilingly, with a liberty which was oftentimes permitted me) and perhaps you have not conconceived aversion against the King of the Turdieanes, but by reason you have conceived some other matter towards the Princess of Castulon. I think thou art become a fool, Aspar (answered my Master, being much provoked with my discourse, but notwithstanding enforcing himself to smile soon after for suspecting me capable of such dulness) but to oblige me more, you ought to have told me in express terms, That I am enamoured on Thomira. It is true (added he more seriously than he would) that I have very different sentiments for this Princess, from those that I have for Attanes. But that some other matter which you mean, without doubt maliciously, is no other than a compassion, which is really very tender, and an esteem which I am obliged to have for a Princess whom I believe the fairest person in the World. It is free for you. My Lord (replied I with a little merriment) to give things what names you please. Yet I have sometimes heard that such kind of sentiments ought to be termed love. Notwithstanding, I shall call them as you please, and choose rather not to well express their nature, then to give them a name which might seem to please. But, My Lord (continued I more seriously) if I suspect you capable of a passion which you call weakness, I charge you at least with a weakness which a thousand illustrious examples have authorised as noble; and if you believe you are incapable of it, it is, for that in truth you understand better the conduct of an Army then the first approaches of Love, which never enters into our breasts, but under the appearance of some other passion, and never dares own its true name till it has rendered itself absolute Master of the soul. To give you therefore the pleasure of believing that it is become Master of mine (replied my Master with a half smile) I will go visit the Princess Thomira; and moreover I will not do it, till you have first sent to know if it may be without inseasonableness and inconvenience. I soon did what my Master appointed me, and understood that the Saguntine Ladies, who were with the Princess, had answered, that the visit would be not only not incommodious but of great advantage to Thomira. Hannibal had no sooner received this favourable answer, but he hasted to the Chamber of the Princess; where, as the Saguntine Ladies who were her attendants, came forward to receive him, there appeared so many tokens of sorrow upon their countenances, that my Master was much astonished, and dared not to turn his head towards the bed of Thomira. He had not the assurance even to require the cause of the sadness he observed; and I believe there would have been a long silence, if one of the Ladies to whom the rest seemed to give place, had not begun to break it, and with a low voice told to my Master, that the Princess was dangerously sick: but, My Lord, (continued she in the same strain) that which afflicts us most, is, that the Princess will not admit of any remedies, and even refuses to take that which is pressed upon her for the support of life: so that we are in danger of losing the most fair and lovely person upon the earth: and perhaps, yes perhaps (added she, redoubling the violence of her sighs) we shall be sufficiently unhappy to lose her within a few hours, if we may credit the fatal report which the Physicians have made concerning her. Hannibal being terrified with these last words, continued as it were immovable; and his soul was so overwhelmed with his sorrow, that the Prince seemed deprived of the use of his senses, and could only utter these words, Ha, Madam, what say you? but afterwards when his fiery temper had rendered him more disposed to express his grief by transports, than complaints, he found himself affected with I know not what ardency to behold Thomira; and thereupon cast his eye upon this young, absolutely fair and charming Princess, and surveyed those beauties and charms which were menaced with approaching loss, and considered Thomira as the greatest, and yet most patient and innocent sufferer that he had ever seen. In a word, my Master beheld the fair Thomira in such a charming plight, as to be infinitely touched with her, and to augment the violence of his passion. It is true, that this passionate Prince not being able to sustain this sight long, turned himself towards the Lady that had spoken to him, and looking upon her with an anxious air, No, no, Madam (said he with an unexpressible assurance) the Princess will not die; but those ignorant and odious persons that threaten us with such a loss, shall themselves perish before this happens. I will even destroy every thing that does not contribute to the recovery of the Princess, and will do such things as will amuse all posterity. After these words, my Master made a few turns without speaking, and then suddenly approaching the same Lady, and laying hold of her arm without knowing what he did. Madam (said he) be stirring, give orders, promise all, give all, command; Yes, Madam, command, but save the Princess. After which, without expecting the Lady's answer, he stepped forward to see the Princess; but being no more able to bear the powerfulness of that view then at the first, he went forth of the Chamber, and entered into a large Hall, where he walked for some time, and turning himself towards me, Aspar (said he) have you seen the Princess? and can you wonder at my despair, having heard what hath been told me? Will you say perhaps (continued he after a few moments) that I have an affection towards Thomira? and will you not also confess, that I have a passion for her which is infinitely above that love? This discourse strangely surprised me, when I considered that at the same time the Prince told me he neither was nor would be in love, he had such symptoms as not only evidence, but transcend the ordinary standard of that passion; that at the same time, I say, he should tell me he had sentiments infinitely above those of Love. It is true, My Lord (answered I at length, perceiving he expected my reply) that you are extremely passionate for the princess of Castulon. You may add, Aspar (interrupted he) that I resent that which never any other person hath done; so that Love which is a common and general passion, could never cause me to have such resentments, nor produce so extraordinary effects. It is true, My Lord (answered I) that Love is a common passion, but it is also true that the soul of the prince Hannibal, being no ordinary one: I do not wonder that the molestations which a passion excites in it, be conformable to the place wherein they are excited. I did not continue on my discourse, because I observed my Master was making towards the Chamber door, to hear what was said there: where, after a little harkening, without being able to understand distinctly, he heard the princess cry out, O the great Gods, most just and most good! is it not enough for this infortunate Damsel, after having lost her Father, and beheld the destruction of her Country, but I must needs be obliged to him who hath caused all these miseries, and for whom I ought to have nothing but aversion and detestation? And you pitiless Nadalia (continued the princess) would you have me protract an unfortunate life, and that grief should by long torments bring me that which my disease is ready to afford me in a few hours? The impatient Prince could not hear more, but entered into the Chamber, and approaching towards the princess's Bed, wholly amorous and afflicted, Ah Madam (said he) will you then die? will you die, most excellent Lady? Yes, my Lord, (answered the princess) and I am not sorry that I shall do it in your presence, to acquit myself of the obligation I have to you▪ for in the condition I am in, I can do no more for you then give you the satisfaction of seeing a Virgin die, who hath made vows against you, and bewailed your Victories. Your complaints have been with reason (replied the Prince) and I wish I had rather lost a thousand lives then to have caused them. Ah, my Lord, (answered she) do not carry your generosity so far, unless it be intended as a piece of cruelty to me. Ah Madam (replied he) do not carry your design so far, unless you intent it should be fatal unto me. As they were upon these terms, one of the Physicians came to present some kind of portion of Thomira, which she refused, not without a kind of pleasingness; she refused it with a certain tranquillity of spirit, and a stediness of soul so heroical, that she caused in those of the assistance a mixed passion of an extraordinary admiration, and an extreme despair. At length, while things were in this pitiful estate, Nadalia came to my Master, and beseeched him to permit that the prince Lucius might be brought into the princess' Chamber. My Master granted it at first, and soon after saw the prince of Celtiberia there, who approached to the Princess, after his civilities to my Master, who returned the like, and retired into the Hall. Lucius beheld Thomira, and Thomira Lucius, while both these illustrious persons expressed their affliction by their tears, ●eing not able to do it with their Tongues. The fair eyes of Thomira issued ●orth a stream of liquid crystal, and those of Lucius melted into some drops, accompanied with deep-fetched sighs; whether it were that this mutual view was a new cause or grief greater than their power to sustain; or whether there were something more tender and touching then the great misfortunes which had already fallen out, and were less proper to pierce the soul then to overwhelm it. But, Nadalia, being willing to lose no time: My Lord (said she to Lucius) the Princess is resolved to die. The princess resolved to die? (interrupted he.) How Madam? (said he, turning to Thomira) will you then be obstinate against life? Lucius, I must be so (answered this afflicted Beauty.) Must be so, Madam? (cried Lucius) Ah, Madam! what say you? aught you not to preserve one of the fairest persons in the world? aught you not to preserve a life which is so precious and necessary to all that are devoted to you? Alas, Madam! (added Nadalia) can you refuse the prince Lucius that which he requests? And although he were not such as he is, could you, without being affected, behold a young prince, who hath left the Court of the King his Father, to come and embrace your quarrel; who hath spent his blood, and that of his subjects for your interests? who hath adventured to grapple with the most redoubled valour in the world? and in a word, a young Prince who hath been ready to die for you: Will you not be drawn to preserve your life at his request? I perceive well, Nadalia (answered the Princess) that I am culpable, and that I shall die ungrateful; but I also perceive, that I am not culpable in any other respect, but because I am a Woman, and because I am weak; and for that not having strength enough of soul to preserve an unhappy life; there remains nothing but a necessity to die, which would be a sufficient contentment, were it not troubled with the regret I have to leave such persons as are dear unto me. I will not tell you (continued she) in extenuation of my crime, that if Lucius had died for Thomira, he should only have ceased to be happy; whereas, if Thomira should live for Lucius, she should only preserve her sorrow, to be perpetually tormented by it; so that if there were no difference between the soul of Lucius and mine, if there were none between the losing a happy life, and the preserving a miserable (which yet there is not) although, I say, all this were equal, yet were your demands too high for me to accord unto. For, in brief, I sufficiently find, that grief acts much more sensibly than joy, and that a person suffers more that is overwhelmed with misery; then when he renounces some contentments which may betid him during the course of a happy life.  
These words of the princess made it appear, that she was not in so weak a condition as she head signified before, and that the disquiets of her soul did not hinder her from discoursing of these things with clearness and freedom of spirit, which yet could gain nothing upon the minds of Lucius and Nadalia. The Celtiberian Prince beseeched her very earnestly, and added reasons to his prayers. Nadalia also did the like: and as they saw that Thomira remained inflexible: Ah, Madam! (said Lucius to her, with a tone declaring both his grief and his despair) is it your pleasure to have me die: I will so, Madam; I will die immediately, to avoid the time of seeing or hearing that doleful fate you threaten us with: and I question not to find means to dispatch my life. I will furnish you with them myself, My Lord, said the generous Nadalia, and this Poniard (continue she, drawing one from her sleeve) shall serve you to execute a just design, and afterwards serve myself with it by following so glorious an example; for, in truth, if Thomira die, there is no reason for us to survive her. My Lords, the Princess implies her pleasure concerning our fates in her own resolution not to live; and therefore this Poniard which was intended only to secure me from the insolence of the Soldiers, which is too ordinary in the taking of Cities; this Poniard shall be sheathed in our breasts, (alas! how incredible a while since?) by our fair Princess. It shall pierce none other but mine, cried the desperate Prince of Carthage with a terrible voice, and running the bed of Thomira; And this Hannibal, this Barbarian, who hath been able to reduce the adorable Thomira into the condition she is in, is minded to sacrifice himself as a Victim to establish your common repose. In saying these words, he laid his hand upon that of Nadalia, and offering to seize upon the Poniard; Ah, my Lord, said Thomira; Ah, Lucius! Ah, Nadalia! you have prevailed, I will live that you may, I will live that you suffer not a death which seems more terrible to me then that which I was going to suffer myself: I will do all that you desire I should for the preservation of a life, wherein you take so important interest. Never was seen so speedy and great a change as that which these words of Thomira caused; all the tumultuous and fatal thoughts which reigned before in the minds of those present, were dispelled by this one sentence: and hope, and joy, with the pleasingness that accompanies them, took complete possession of the same minds, after they had chased from thence all that is wont to withstand and be contrary to these amiable passions. At the same moment one came to assure Thomira, that the Prince her Father had been seen taking the way of the Seashore with a body of Horse: and to make the face of things absolutely new, my Master pronounced aloud, that the Princess gave liberty to Lucius, Regulus, and Nadalia; and not only to all the people of Saguntum, but even to all those who had taken arms for her interests. You may judge, My Lord, said Aspar to his Illustrious Auditors, whether all these things together, and joined with sovereign remedi●s, did not produce a speedy effect: and without holding you longer in the describing a malady wherein you can find nothing agreeable besides the fair Princess that suffered it, I shall content myself to tell you that the incomparable Thomira was within a few days in a condition to leave her bed, and soon after also her Chamber. Aspar held his peace at this part of his Narration; either not presuming to pursue it, without understanding whether it were their pleasure to hear the continuation of it, or perhaps to re●ume new Ideas: but as soon as he perceived the King of Syria, the wounded King, the Prince of Macedonia, and he of Bythinia, seemed by their silence to expect the sequel of Hannibal's Adventures, he reassumed his discourse in this manner.  
The End of the First Book.    

The Grand SCIPIO.  
The First Part.  
BOOK II.  
NEver did they which had escaped a shipwreck, resent so perfect a joy as that was, which the recovery of Thomira raised in the breasts of all the City of Saguntum; nor did the Sun, after a dissipation of the Clouds, that seemed to obscure him, ever appear so bright and glorious, as Thomira did, when she was established in her former health. All the World, both in the City, and in the Camp, testified their cheerful sentiments fo● it; and such Ladies as had suffered no considerable losses, seemed as if they had become more fair and charming. But all these changes were nothing comparable to that which was beheld upon the countenance of Nadalia; for this fair Virgin, who a little before appeared full of zeal and generosity, was now wholly amiable and sprightly; it is true, that she accompanied her joy with a certain fierceness, which yet advanced her beauty: And this will not be accounted strange, if it be considered that Nadalia was the daughter of Alcon, one of the principal Senators of Saguntum, t●at she was fair, and but in her eighteenth year; and above all this, she had a generous soul, as unquestionably you have observed, by that noble proof I have shown she gave during the sickness of the Princess. But if this lovely Virgin was wholly given up to joy, after the recovery of Thomira, for whom she had an extreme tenderness; my Master was so abandoned to the violence of his love, that he determined to declare it to his Princess, both to comfort his mind, and to direct his carriage for the future. He did me the favour, to communicate to me his design; but I soon knew, that it was not so much to know my sentiments of it, as to have the satisfaction of speaking of his Princess. Aspar (said he to me) do you not perceive that we had seen but hal● of the Princess before? Was it then possible to admire the majesty of her port, and the vivacity of her countenance? Could we, I say, admire the brightness of her eyes, and that air which instantly subdues the heart, without that one can know the cause of that conquest, if it were not that she is well known, to be the most charming thing in the world? so that it is certain, that whosoever had had no love for Thomira in her sickness, ought now to adore her. But to what purpose is it (proceeded the Prince) to have love and adoration for Thomira, if Thomira know it not? It is necessary to let her know it (said he) and that either she be sensible of what she makes me suffer, or that I shortly die at her feet. But alas! wherein will it advantage me to let her know it, if Attanes have the means to win her heart? He has no such means (recollected he instantly) and I should do you injury, my adorable Princess, if I believed that Attanes could prevail upon your affection, after he hath born Arms against you, having sound you insensible before he had committed that crime. Do not wonder Aspar (continued he) that I reason in this manner, having myself also born Arms against Thomira: for although there were no difference between the King of the Turdetans and Hannibal, yet there would always be in this, for that I was a declared Enemy, and but acted as ordinarily Enemies do; whereas the offence which hath been received from Attanes, hath a more surprising and cruel appearance, as being received from a hand from which wholly contrary treatment was expected. Besides, that which may possibly cause aversion against me in the breast of Thomira, may as well 'cause esteem; and that fair Princess can never think of Hannibal, when he was in the head of an Enemy Army, without perceiving at the same time Hannibal victorious; and then, that Hannibal is not a conquest absolutely unworthy of Thomira. Let us go then (added he, being moved by violent and haughty humour) and make it seen that my Rivals are as little formidable to me, as my Enemies have been hitherto in the head of their Armies: Let us go tell the Princess that Hannibal loves her, that Hannibal adores her, that Hannibal, who by his birth reigns over one half of the world, and wears that by his side wherewith to subdue the other, and lay at the feet of the Divine Thomira, all the Crowns in the earth. In ending these words, he went towards the Princess of Castulon, with whom he found Nadalia, three or four fair Ladies of Saguntum, Anno, Magar, and Alorca, who was a Spaniard of quality that had served in our Army. My master immediately learned there, that Attanes could not obtain a sight of the Princess; and soon after understood, that she was pleased to walk upon a fair Turrace, which was on the top of the Palace: Hannibal led the Princess by the hand, being ravished with joy at the opportunity: Anno lead Nadalia, and Magar Alorca, and myself attended upon the other Ladies which were of this presence. But this walk, which was imagined would have been very pleasing, was really sad in its beginning; for the fair Princess of Castulon could not behold from the Turrace, the ruins of Saguntum without sighing; which prevailed on my Master to sigh with her, instead of declaring his passion, as he had resolved: So that he dared not open his lips to her, seeing her persist silent; by which testifying, that he lived not but in her: He gave fair proofs of his passion, although without the discovery which he intended. Nevertheless, it was requisite at length for him to speak; and so he protested, That Saguntum should never have been besieged, if Hannibal had known the fair Thomira. And I swear to you, Madam (continued he) by all that is most sacred, that I am so far from attaquing any place which should have the honour to enclose your divine person, that I should have had veneration towards it, and have lost my life in defence of it: Wherefore I am minded to make the utmost reparation possible; and by your commands, to render Saguntum so proud and magnificent, that it shall shortly be the first City of Spain, not excepting our new Carthage, for all the expense that Asdrubal hath laid upon it.  
Alas, my Lord (answered Thomira) why is it that you have done what is passed before your eyes? or what induces you to do as you do at present: For unfeignedly, my Lord, never did any person act so nobly as you: And not to speak concerning the offer which you make me, of repairing Saguntum, or the life you have given to the Prince Lucius, or the liberty which you have granted all the prisoners: I observe something yet more obliging and generous in your manner of acting; for you would have me give orders for the repairing of Saguntum, you give life to a Prince, who hath attempted upon yours; and whereas you give life to Lucius, and liberty to the prisoners, you give both the one and the other in my name, and treat your prisoner as a Sovereign. The Princess (interrupted the passionate Carthaginian) whom you unjustly call a prisoner, shall rule every where that I have power. And you ought not wonder, Madam (proceeded he) beholding the princess with eyes that spoke what his mouth was going to pronounce) that I give life to a Prince who hath attaqued mine; since I adore a Princess which hath wounded me much more dangerously, and gained a victory over me, which never any person did before, nor shall any other hereafter.  
The Princess was infinitely perplexed with this discourse, she could not resolve to mistreat a Prince, to whom she had so many and late obligations; nor could she resolve to return a favourable answer to the author of all her losses: So that having continued silent some moments; My Lord (answered she) you only heard that which obliges me to render you thanks, and interrupted me when I was come to tell you the cause I had to complain of you: For, my Lord, if you are the Prince that hath treated me very generously, you are also the same Prince that caused many thousand men to Perish; you are the same Prince that brought me into a condition of lamenting a hundred times a day, when I think upon the Prince my Father, without knowing precisely where he is, I sometimes imagine him in a fire, where he is devoured by the flames, and if I can believe that he hath escaped that fate, then presently I conceive, that the prison or grief, are ready to do that which the flames have not: So that you may please to judge, my Lord, of the commiserable estate wherein I am; since, if on the one side, I owe you all, on the other I am obliged to consider you as my enemy: And I would the Gods had pleased (continued she, lifting up her fair eyes towards Heaven, from which some tears slipped) that the loss of my life could establish the repose of yours; you should find I will soon give it with contentment, and that at least I know to do that out of gratitude, which you have done out of pure generosity. There is no need of that, Madam, replied the passionate Prince, being sensibly touched with the tears of his Princess; and it suffices me to hear some favourable words from your mouth to— He could not proceed further, by reason of the coming of Lucius Maharbal, and Adherbal, to do reverence to the Princess and to him, having entered without desiring permission, because the Terrase was a place where people walked ordinarily, and there was a considerable multitude there at that time. Whereupon the Princess was very glad, and to the end Hannibal might no more have occasion to be alone with her, she made semblance that she had walked enough, and having called Nadalia and the other Ladies, all the company entered into a large and magnificent Pavilion at the end of the Terrase, which was provided with rich cushions and furniture within a few days before. Thomira and Hannibal were too sufficiently taken up with their own thoughts, to be able to begin the conversation immediately, so that the Prince of Celtiberia breaking the silence which had an aspect of too much sadness, Madam (said he to the princess) I perceive well that you have been touched with the view of so lamentable an object; but the soul of the Princess Thomira is so firm, that I believe she can with no great pain compose and calm this kind of affliction. In sincerity, Lucius (answered Thomira) I would not upon any terms have such a soul as you speak of, and I had rather be guilty of weakness than own such a strength as renders a heart insensible.  
The Prince of Celtiberia would not have you insensible (said Maharbal) but he would neither have you permit yourself to be so sensibly affected with the sight of some ruins, which in truth ought to be no cause of admiration, after you have seen the things which caused them: and for myself, Madam, added he in favour of the Prince of Carthage, I could wish to see you above all passions, except ambition, which seems only worthy to reign in your soul. It hath at least appeared the strongest heretofore (answered the Princess) but a Victory of the prince Hannibal, added she, sighing, hath caused me to change those thoughts, and resent a passion which I find more violent. It is easy to judge, said the prince of the Carthaginians, that there was a time when Ambition was not only the strongest, but even the only passion which reigned in the breast of Hannibal: But, Madam, added he with a lower voice, and beholding his princess, a victory of the princess Thomira hath made me quite discharge such thoughts, and resent a passion which I find more violent. It is easy to understand, Madam, said Nadalia, interrupting my Master in favour of the princess, and yet making a handsome semblance not to take notice of his speaking low, it is easy to understand, said she, that grief is the violent passion which you have resented; but I beseech you, Madam, chase it from your breast; for, in truth, pursued she with an air, expressing her contentment to divert the Princess, I look upon grief as a thing so deformed and frightful, and your soul seems to me so fair and noble, that I cannot longer approve their being together, or that a passion which makes so many miserable should have so excellent a habitation: besides, without vanity, added she smiling, I cannot believe, but at least I am somewhat more amiable than sadness, and upon that reason cannot endure that that possess the place, a little part whereof would render me the most happy person in the world. You have no need then to doubt your felicity, my dear Nadalia, answered the Princess, and it would be injustice to refuse you a heart you have so good a title to, and which cannot be given you but with an extreme satisfaction. You do me too much honour, replied Nadalia, I render you a thousand thanks, and protest to you; that if I have demanded so valuable an advantage in an extraordinary manner, it is because I believed, that had I demanded it seriously, I might have been judged too ambitious: besides, that to speak the truth, I have resolved to turn all things to this air, the better to divert you; and I beg the permission of the Prince Hannibal to use this liberty. Ah, amiable Nadalia, answered Hannibal, can you be guilty of such injustice! and do you not know that the Princess alone hath authority to permit, forbid & command? Well, beautiful Nadalia, said Anno, who had not spoken till then, and had no attention or regard but for this lovely Saguntine. Well, said he, in favour of the Prince Hannibal, or rather in his own, to cause Nadalia to speak; can you give an account what passion it is which hath rendered itself more powerful than ambition in the soul of the Prince of Carthage? In verity, Anno, answered Nadalia with her wont pleasantness, you are a very knowing person that conceive it possible for me to know the secret of another. Declare yourself (added she subtly) if you would have me know yours. Ah, fair Nadalia (cried he, without well regarding in what presence he was) how happy should I be if you knew it! I know not, said Hannibal to Anno, whether Nadalia would find it difficult to know what you have in your heart; but for myself, I know well that I take so little care to hide what I have in mine, that she may very easily divine it.  
You have there a great stock of generosity, My Lord, which hath been so advantageous to us, answered Nadalia, that we can be as little ignorant of it as forget it. Ah, fair Nadalia, replied Hannibal obligingly, observing the pleasure the Princess took in hearing the raillery of her amiable companion, your earnest offends me, and you give me cause to think that I am not of the number of your friends, since you speak to me with constrain, and that you quit the pleasantness you took a resolution never to renounce. Without deceit, My Lord, I dared not to tell you things as I imagine them: for I fancy them in such an old guise that I divert myself with the most serious and troublesome, when they are passed. So that when I resolve in my mind the transports which you had about fifteen or sixteen years ago; for if you please to remember, My Lord, pursued she, you were in much choler against the sickness of the Princess, not sparing the Physicians who were declared enemies of it, When, I say, consider, all your transports, I cannot but believe, that you took the Fever for an Army, or a City which you resolved to overthrow by force, or— Ah, cruel Lady! (interposed my Master) why do you speak of a thing which we ought to forget? I know, my Lord, replied Nadalia, the reason you would have it forgotten, 'tis because you promised me then to make me rule: judge then proceeded she smiling, if it does not concern me to remember it; and if, although past misfortunes were not pleasures to me, as I have already told you they were, I ought to forget a thing which touches me so importantly? I should not have forgot that which I had promised you, said my Master to her, and within a little time you shall see if I esteem Nadalia, provided in the mean time you content yourself to rule in my heart. Sincerely, My Lord, replied she, you do me to great an honour, but you may please to permit me to refuse it; for I like better to reign peaceably in a little corner of earth, then with tumult in your heart. In brief (continued she with the same smiling air) to tell you things as I apprehend them, I conceive your heart is a thing to great and filled with Armies, Provinces, conquered, and to conquer, that I cannot but tremble to consider the poor Nadalia in the midst of that tumult. Moreover if it be allowable to reason concerning hearts; from what I have heard spoken of the Sea, I should never be safe in yours; for I have heard our Mariners say, that the greatest Seas are the most tempestuous. Amiable Nadalia (answered my Master, smiling after his manner) all these Armies, and all these Provinces which frighten you are no longer in my heart; but you will find so fair treatment there, that you will continue in it with pleasure, and confess that that which I preserve in it, is a thousand times more valuable than all that I have chased out of it; yea, than the entire conquest of the world. Hannibal pursued this discourse, carrying a hidden sense along with it, advantageous to the Princess. And Thomira, Nadalia, Lucius, Maharbal, and Hanno, having continued the conversation for some time, all this noble company retired. My Master was no sooner in his Chamber, but he sent to call one of Th●mira's Domestics, to cause him to make a more exact discovery what he had began to tell him concerning the Prince of Celtiberia, and the King of the Turdetanes. This Saguntine related to the Prince Hannibal, that the Queen of Celtiberia, Mother of Lucius, was sister to Edescon, Prince of Castulon, and the Saguntine Senate, who was otherwise called the Perfect, and that his charge notwithstanding was no other than that of the Roman Prefects. He told him also, that the princess Imilca, wife of Edescon, being dead ten years since, Thomira, who was always called the princess of Castulon, as her Father bore always the title of Prince of the Saguntines, had been brought up with the Queen of Celtiberia her Aunt, whereby there was contracted so firm a friendship between Lucius and her, that they had used no other appellations between themselves but those of Brother and Sister. That afterwards Lucius being become passionately enamoured of the princess of the Ilergetes, the worth of this Prince and the diligences of Thomira, had so effectually prevailed, that Lucius within a a little time received as many tokens of esteem and goodwill from his Princess as he could possibly wish: But, my Lord (added he) you began to threaten S●guntum at such time as preparation were making for the marriage of the prince of Celtiberia, and the princese of the Ilergetes; and you advanced against this poor City when these too illustrious Persons were just ready to be ranked under the Laws of Hymen. Upon which the Prince Lucius, not willing to taste these delights he had so much desired, while his Uncle and the illustrious Thomira were besieged by a formidable Conqueror, came and put himself into Saguntum with four thousand Celtiberians; since which there hath nothing passed of which you have not sufficient knowledge: you, I say, My Lord, whose valour hath done all against us during the siege of this City, as after the taking of it your Generosity hath done all for us. Concerning the King of the Turdetanes, proceeded the Saguntine, there are very many things to be related; but I believe you will know enough of him, when I shall only have told you, that for these two years past, this Prince hath been desperately amorous of the princess of Castulon; but Thomira never had any inclination to affect him; so that Attanes joined himself to your Army, induced perhaps thereunto by his despair. It is true, that assoon as you were entered the City, that Prince sent his Guards for the defence of Thomira, and had it not been for that care, I can assure this generous Princes had not survived the storm. For Lucius had great difficulty to draw her away from the Pile, into which she would have cast herself; and besides however calm and moderate she seems, it is certain she would have given herself another manner of death, if the Captain of Attanes Guards had not assured her that her Father was living. Moreover, without this arrival of the Turaetanes, the Prince of Celtiberia who alone had power to persuade her to live, would without doubt have himself perished in the defence of this fair Princess. My Master was extremely satisfied with hearing that Lucius was not his Rival, and that Attanes was one, but hated; and afterwards considering of the means to gain Thomira's heart which Attanes had told him of about fifteen or twenty days before, he demanded of the Saguntine, if it were true that the King of the Turdetanes could not come to the sight of the Princess. There is nothing more certain, My Lord, answered the Saguntine, and that which makes me believe that Attanes is yet more perplexed in his mind then before, is this, that at the same time she would not admit him into her presence, she received Regulus very obligingly, and showed him all the honours and civilities he could expect. How? (interposed Hannibal a little troubled) is Regulus so well treated by Thomira? Regulus, who is no relation to Thomira? He is so without question, replied he, although not so well as Lucius, who is the relation, perhaps, you understand; and it must be acknowledged, that if Regulus be esteemed, he deserves it. For Regulus hath a very comely person, a good genius, and a heart extremely generous, and does all things in so noble a manner; that excepting you, My Lord, and the prince Lucius, I cannot say that I ever knew a Prince so well accomplished. The Princess hath also caused very great care to be taken of him, as soon as she was in a condition to do it: she hath visited him two or three times, and obligingly reproved him, for that he had adventured to come abroad to give her thanks for the goodness she had towards him. But, My Lord (continued the Saguntine) it is sincerely true, that they have spoken very advantageously of you; & that the princess blamed Regulus for designing to depart without coming to attend upon you: I confess, Madam, answered Regulus, Hannibal is a brave person, generous, and in a word, an Illustrious Prince; but when I consider that Hannibal is a Carthaginian, I cannot resolve to show him civility: and I shall never do any, to what person soever of a people whose only name gives me horror. Let him do what he pleases, provided he be gone (interupted Hannibal roughly) and as he pronounced these words, Attanes, who came to bid him adieu, entered his Chamber, and made him a Compliment so loose and expressive of the trouble which the hatred of Thomira had raised in his mind, that Hannibal was more ravished with it then he could have been with the most eloquent discourse.  
My Master showed many Civilities to the King of the Turdetanes; and when he repaid his visit, he assured him that he would make it his care to act for the good and advantage of his State. From Attanes, Hannibal went to wait upon the Princess Thomira, and by good fortune found her without other company than that of two of her Virgin-attendants.  
My Master was ravished with this occasion, which afforded him place and convenience to speak to the Princess; but immediately as he was going to take the benefit of it, he was diverted by a certain trouble, though no other than pleasing, which hindered him from speaking: for he was seized with such a joy, when he saw himself in a condition that he might abandon himself to pleasure, and behold without obstacle his fair Princess, that is eyes, his countenance and behaviour spoke sufficiently what his mouth could not. Thomira declared herself in no other than in the same silent fashion, and modesty producing the same effect in her breast that transports did in that of Hannibal, she da●ed not to look up on this passionate Prince. This disturbance caused her to blush: and that sanguine and her fear rendering her more fair and lovely▪ spoke so sensibly to my Master, that being carried by the violence of his passion, he went to lay himself at her feet, without considering that there were two Virgins in the Chamber; if the Princess, who was surprised and displeased with it, had not hindered him from doing it.  
About this time came one to make excuses to the Princess on the behalf of Nadalia. I will not receive them (answered Thomira) but on condition that she come instantly and make them herself; and you may tell her (added she, turning to him that brought the message) that I complain extremely of her. Madam (answered the Saguntine) Nadalia will be constrained to see the Troops of Attanes march away: for Alcon, who is just now arrived, hath something of so great importance to communicate to the King of the Turdetanes, that it is necessary for Nadalia to attend till Attanes be departed to see her Father▪ But, Madam (proceeded he) there being great concourse to see this departure, Nadalia being not permitted to speak with you, hath had the contentment to employ that time in speaking of you, with the Prince of Celtiberia and Regulus, who as you know, is to go along with Attanes: and being they are not to go till an hour hence, Nadalia cannot have the honour to see you till after that time. The Princess of Castulon was desirous to have drawn the discourse out longer with this man, both to have the pleasure of hearing him speak of Nadalia, and to hinder the Prince of Carthage from discovering to her the sentiments, she thought she too well knew already. But then judging it not to be seemly, she began at length to speak to the Prince Hannibal, to the end he might not have time to entertain her with a passion that so much displeased her, that she could not reasonably return a pertinent answer unto it. My Lord (said this fair Princess unto him) you will permit me to make vows for a Roman, and to wish that Regulus, who is not yet perfectly cured, may not suffer harm by the voyage which he undertakes. For truly, My Lord (continued she to hinder him from speaking) although I had not a tender soul, yet I ought in reason to interest myself in the indisposition of Regulus, since he suffers it not but for having defended Saguntum; besides that, my own misfortunes are sufficient instructers to me, to have compassion of those of another.  
It is not necessary, adorable Princess (answered Hannibal) to justify your compassion before a Prince, who desires with all his soul to be able to excite it in yours. You have for Regulus fair Thomira; have some, I beseech you towards a Prince that adores you: Regulus hath fought for you, Regulus hath received his wounds for the interest of Saguntum; in a word, Regulus hath served you. But, divine Princess, if it be lawful to judge of actions according to the intention of him that hath performed them, we may say, that you are not obliged to Regulus, since he took arms rather against the Carthaginians, then to serve the princess of Castulon, and designed more to satisfy his passion, then to assist Saguntum; seeing we know the other Romans, who had not the same interest, abandoned it. The case of Hannibal is far different; Hannibal acts not but for Thomira. If Hannibal suffers, Thomira is the only cause that makes him suffer; and in a word, Hannibal considers more the Princess Thomira then all the world together besides.  
I know well, Madam, you will say I have ruined Saguntum, but I can make out that even this serves to prove the greatness of the respect which I have for you. I have besieged Saguntum, because it had leagued itself to my enemy's party, contrary to the Treaty which had been made, whereby the Saguntines were obliged to bear themselves neuters; in which, Madam, the resentment I have shown, has been just and honourable: and you ought not to have any against me, seeing it was not possible I should disoblige you at such time as I had not the honour to know you. But ever since I received that happiness, I have acted after a manner wholly contrary: I have pardoned all the Saguntines, I have changed my hatred towards that people into amity, and so have not acted against you, but only during the time I was not capable of offending you. Therefore be pleased, divine Princess, to have compassion on me, and do something for a Prince who would do all for you, and who demands nothing (added he with a transport worthy of Hannibal) that you should render him happy till he hath rendered you the Sovereign of the world.  
After these words, my Master awaited the answer of Thomira, who could not well resolve to speak; till at length finding herself obliged thereunto: My Lord (answered she) I am constrained to acknowledge, that it is very difficult to consider the great qualities you are master of, and to receive the affects of your generosity, without much resentment, and even (added she blushing) without conceiving an esteem of them, and being glad you were pleased to manifest them towards me. But, My Lord, I conjure you with all my soul to contain yourself within that esteem, and not to pass further, but renounce that weakness which may in some measure soil the glory of Hannibal, and perhaps will only serve to render you unhappy, if it be true that your happiness depends upon Thomira. For if the Prince Edescon be yet amongst the living, you ought to expect nothing from me: he it is on whom I depend, and to him only it is requisite that you address. But if his death (proceeded she sighing) hath rendered me Mistress of my own inclinations, I cannot favourably yield myself to a Prince who hath caused me such a loss. Ah! Madam, (interrupted he, being desperate by these last words) If it were so, I should be an innocent cause of it, and you could not be at all equitable, in punishing me for a contingence which I would have bought off at the price of my life. Scarce had my Master pronounced these words, but the Prince of Celtiberla and Alorca, entered into the Chamber of Thomira, and soon after also Hanno, leading Nadalia in his hand. After Lucius had discharged and received the civilities usual in these occasions. How do you Nadalia, (said the Princess to this young beauty) presume to come into the presence of a person whom you have incensed? I acknowledge, Madam, (answered she) you have reason to be incensed against me, if you have any to be so against such persons that suffer, and that for your sake.  
But you may discharge your choler if you please (pursued she with her usual pleasantries) against me, and add one unhappiness to another, as if the poor Nadalta had not suffered enough during the time that she hath been deprived of the honour of seeing you. If you had suffered as you say (replied the Princess) you might soon have given yourself a remedy. Sincerely, Madam, I have suffered very much (said Nadalia) but to tell you the naked truth, I have not suffered so much as I believed I should have done; for I have had some divertisement in beholding Attanes' Troops march away. In truth (replied the Princess smiling) you have had a strange kind of pleasure. How, Madam, (said this lovely Virgin) this pleasure is greater than you imagine; not for that I am of the humour of those Ladies who crowd to see the arrival of Soldiers; for I should find no pleasure therein, unless they came as the prince Lucius did into Saguntum; but I should have the same forwardness to see them march away; and methinks there is nothing more agreeable then to behold the departure of an Army. Nevertheless, it is true, that I have quitted this pleasure to come to a greater. You are then far from having one unhappiness upon another (answered the Princess) since you do not forsake one pleasure but to come to a new. You may judge of the greatness of it (replied she) when you are assured that it gave me absolute contentment, even at such time as I was absent from you: and although it were shared between the Prince Lucius and me, yet it is true (added she soothingly) that it was not comparably great to that which I receive at this present. I do not doubt (answered the Princess obligingly) but you receive satisfaction at the present, since you have the goodness to receive it when you give me greater. Alas, Madam (cried Nadalia) I am able to give nothing to a fair and great Princess as you are; and I do not expect so much as divertisements. You are too modest (replied the Princess) but I presume the prince Lucius will inform me what satisfaction it is you have shared with him. Lucius (proceeded she, addressing to the Prince of Celtiberia) have you had the same pleasure with Nadalia? Yes, Madam (answered he) since we spoke of nothing but of you. I am perfectly obliged to you (replied the Princess) but she pronounced these few words with a kind of air so sweet and charming, that my Master was awakened from a profound amusement, whereinto the conversation he had made a little before had plunged him. In the mean time Nadalia according to her agreeable humour, told the Princess that she was not so much obliged to the prince of Celtiberia as she imagined; for 'tis I (proceeded she smiling) who am the cause that he spoke longer concerning you than he would otherwise have done, having induced him thereunto by a promise that our next discourse should be of the princess of the Ilargetes. How? fair Nadalia (answered my Master) take care to what you say, and do not aggrandise the obligation when you go about to diminish it; for, pursued he, you make show that a Lover took pleasure in speaking concerning the princess of Castulon, although it appears that that discourse did defer another which he was to make afterwards concerning the person whom he loved, so that the prince Lucius found her discourse agreeable, which most other Lovers would have esteemed troublesome and tedions: It is true, My Lord (answered the fair Virgin) that I have not spoken according to the rigour of verity; but it is also true, that in this particular my little experience serves to excuse me. Nevertheless I may possibly conceive, that that which in your apprehension represents that discourse troublesome, may render it extremely agreeable. For seeing I promised to the prince Lucius to speak concerning the Princess of the Ilergetes, provided he would first do so of the princess of Castulon. I may say, that that promise was the cause of the discourse that he made me of her, and that the inducement being pleasing, the consequence could not but be delightful. But I know not, My Lord (added she smiling) if I have not entangled myself with this effect and the cause. I would to the Gods you were (said Hanno) and that I were the cause, I would entangle her after another fashion, said prince Lucius, for I am minded to quarrel with her. Have you not committed an injustice, fair Nadalia? for I am constrained so to style you, whatsoever enemy I am to you; have you not, I say, committed an injustice in declaring that I entered upon the discourse of the princely Thomira, only as a preface to that of the Princess of the Ilergetes? and can you be ignorant that Lovers are always in a readiness to give themselves contentment without the assistance of others, and that there needs no more but to think upon the desired object. Wherefore, fair Nadalin, I have not spoken of the princess of Castulon, but for her own sake, without regard to your succeeding promise; and I conceive it more advantageous to contemplate on the perfections of the beloved person, then to confine them, and narrow them in language; so that a conversation of this kind cannot but retrench somewhat of the pleasure of a Lover, since it seems to dissipate some part of those fair Ideas which are the only source of pleasure during absence, and which cause solitude to be more desirable than company and entertainment.  
As the Prince of Celtiberia had ended these words, and observed that Nadalia offered no answer; How? Nadalia (said he) answer you nothing? without falsehood my Lord (answered this pleasing Beauty) you ought to have given me time to have devised a suitable answer; were I so skilled in Rhetoric, or rather (said she, smiling) were I a lover, I should speak my own sentiments as you have spoken your.  
All this doth not satisfy us (replied Lucius) and it is requisite for you to defend your Cause after another manner, or to confess that you have injuriously accused me. I shall never confess that, my Lord, replied she, but shall rather choose to return you an answer of any thing that comes next into my mind upon this occasion. Wherefore I am of opinion (proceeded she, with her accustomed pleasantness) and I know not whether this may not be thought the defending of a cause that conversation hath something more agreeable in it then pensiveness & musing: and since we cannot speak but of that whereof we think it appears that conversation affords a double pleasure, & thence that it is better to speak then only to ruminate in silence. Besides that words have I know not what of life & quickness in them; and when any one speaks advantageously of the person we affect, there accrues this satisfaction unto us of seeing our own sentiments approved, and that joint esteem of another authorising our choice. And as for myself, My Lord, (added she) I would not restrain my thoughts in the manner you mention; for being they would give me nothing but melancholy, I should be glad to retrench a part of them, by letting them forth in conversation; but if they purported gladness, I should endeavour to increase it by communication.  
Your Reasons, fair Nadalia (replied Lucius) give testimony of your superlative wit beyond mine; but they cannot persuade me that you have justice on your side. As for me (added Hanno) ravished with joy to hear the discourse of this amiable Damsel) I believe that it is difficult to resist the reasons of Nadalia, as it is impossible to hold out against the charms of her beauty. My Master after this took his turn, and expressed himself much to the advantage of this fair S●guntine; and the Princess of Castulon interressed herself so much in the praises that were given her, that she appeared more obliging with this tenderness, then by all that she could have said herself. Alorca, who began to address to the Princess with an extraordinary zeal, and who testified great alacrity in every thing that concerned either her service or her inclination, said that Nadalia deserved all that was spoken advantageously of her, and yet all that had been spoken to her advantage was not all that she deserved. Nevertheless, Alorca (answered Thomira) I conceive it reasonable that praises be applied to some particular quality of the person that is commended; but that which you have said, is so wide and at large, that it may be applied generally to persons of much merit, and whom we cannot praise enough. But, Madam, replied he, what is that I might declare to be proper to Nadalia, and which may raise my expressions above what hath b●en said already. You might say (answered Hannibal) that the Princess Thomira hath judged Nadalia▪ worthy of her esteem and affection, and so you would signify that which is it more particular and glorious to Nadalia. This young beauty returned no other answer then a reverence which she made with a grace altogether charming: After which, conceiving it now time to leave the Princess, she made her a very pleasing compliment, and very far from ceremony. Thomira embraced and kissed Nadalia; and this fair Saguntine going forth with Anno who led her, Hannibal, Lucius, and Alorca, went forth also. My Master was not sooner returned to his apartment, but Alcon who had awaited him, came to do him reverence, and rendered him an exact account of what he had done in rallying the dispersed Saguntines. Hannibal made a thousand civi●●ies to Alcon, and offered to give him the superintendance of all the affairs of Saguntum, and afterwards to empower him with a command which should have no other dependence then on the authority of the princess Thomira. Alcon rendered acknowledgements to the Prince of Car●ha●e; and after some little times conference together, this sage Senator withdrew.  
The next morning Lucius visited my Master, and these two Princes contracted a most firm friendship, protesting they would keep the swords they had employed in the fight between them, to achieve contrary actions to that wherein they were engaged, as I have related, during the siege of Saguntum. These two Princes had scarce exchanged these protestations of a true and inviolable amity one towards another, but Maharbal, Anno and Alorca entered into the Chamber of Hannibal.  
The conversation that was made there, was agreeable enough, & when it happened to be insensibly fallen upon the passion of Anno, every one spoke of the charms that had given it birth. Anno would not make a mystery of a passion, it was his design to have apparent; and being a great Gallant, and of a noble and open genius, he did not act after the manner of those close Humorists, who believe they do things with address and handsomeness when they carry them secretly. He was satisfied there was nothing but what was comm●ndable in the love he had for such a person as Nadalia, and that he needed not be in fear of letting that be known, which he was upon the point of declaring to Alcon himself. Whereupon he openly affirmed, that Nadalia a person of so fair accomplishments, that it was glory to wear her Chains, and above all, for myself (added he) who know her better than any 〈◊〉 doth: for how fair and witty soever you apprehend Nadalia, she is yet something beyond what you see. You have without doubt observed (continued he) that she hath vaturally an air of fierceness; but I have perceived that that fierceness does no more than quicken her sweetness, which without this mixture would have something of less brightness▪ I may also proceed, that in private conversation, this fair Person hath showed herself more charming, than she appeared in those wherein you heard her; and without giving me occasion of precisely knowing whether she be kind or severe, she hath at least made me know that she is the most charming person in the world. At this transport of Anno, Hannibal and Lucius, could not contain themselves from sighing, and yet were unwilling to answer, partly because they had a tender respect for Nadalia, and partly because they likewise were well affected to Hanno; so that they contented themselves with thinking it the violence of this Carthaginians' passion, that induced him to term Nadalia the most charming person in the world, and hindered him from excepting the divine Thomira, and the fair Princess of the Ilergetes. The conversation was continued for some time, till at length the discourse fell concerning Alcon, and the affairs of Saguntum, no person presuming to make mention of the princess of Castulon, after which Lucius ended his visit, deeming it to have been of a reasonable length. My Master took this time to go to the house of Nadalia's Father, whereunto he was accompanied by Anno; for Maharbal and Alorca left them up●● the departure of Lucius, because they understood at their first coming to him, that he intended to visit Alcon that morning. The Father of Nadalia received my Master with all the respect and joy he could express; and although he was a man of experience and great entendment, yet he could not so well manage his civil resentment of it, but that he aggravated it in such terms as were too courtly, and not altogether agreeable to the gust of Hannibal. Nevertheless the Prince turned the matter by with address, and having answered very obligingly to Alcon, he afterwards discoursed with him about the reparation of Saguntum, and other affairs conformable to his genius. The Saguntine Senator answered always prudently: And for the reparation of Saguntum. My Lord (said he) you shall see that I will act both like a man whose duty it is readily to obey you, and as a Citizen, very zealous for the good of his Country: so that in a short spare of time, you shall see a fair City, where at present there is nothing but the face of ruins and desolations. Yet amongst these ruins, answered Hannibal, are seen the fairest things in the world: and if I wanted a witness to confirm what I say, I believe Anno would not refuse to be one. I shall ever be of that opinion, My Lord (answered Anno, being well pleased that Hannibal had begun this discourse) and if it be only requisite but to speak by experience to induce belief of what we say, there reremains no cause for Alcon to doubt of my words. The Father of Nadalia, who had been a brave person in his youth, smiled at these words of Anno, and answered that he was not at all surprised with these expressions; for in our time (added he) we were wont to speak advantageously of Ladies in all places that we came into; and we spoke so freely of them, that we soon spent our whole stock of expressions on them. But there is this difference, replied Anno, that in your time you spoke indifferently to the advantage of all Ladies, whereas we have yet only commended those of Saguntum, although we have made former expeditions. I have nothing to answer thereunto, replied the Saguntine, and though I am of a City whose Ladies you commend, yet I dare not oppose the praises which I esteem extremely just, since in my conjecture they tend towards the Princess. Without doubt the Princess deserves more than we can give her, answered Hannibal, but yet, said Hanno, she is not the only one to whom they are due; and I should ascribe some to Nadalia, even in the presence of her Father, did I believe I could do her perfect justice. Do not imagine (continued he, immediately adressing towards Alcon, who was about to interrupt him) that I spoke flatteringly: I am not come but to beseech you most humbly to suffer me to pretend to the honour of entering into your Alliance, and to demand this favour of you in the presence of the Illustrious Prince of Carthage. Nevertheless I shall not represent to you the greatness of my birth as means to obtain this honour, since few persons are ignorant what rank the house holds, whereof I am descended. But I shall content myself with only declaring my passion; and if I make this discovery before I have rendered considerable services to Nadalia, 'tis for that I believe that all the services which I shall ever be able to render her, can never be worthy to gain me her heart. Wherefore I am expectant of that from the goodness of Alcon, which I durst never hope from the inclination of Nadalia; provided nevertheless, that this fair person have no repugnance in following your sentiments, if they be favourable unto me: for to believe that in this case, hers should be conformable to yours, is that which I shall never have the vanity to hope.  
Although the proposal of Hanno was extremely advantageous to the Saguntine, yet Alcon judged that it was not requisite to answer expressly, and taking upon him as it were the port of a Senator, which seemed to be conformable to that a Father is to have when his Daughter is demanded in marriage, he answered Hanno that he was perfectly obliged to him for the honour which he offered him, and whereunto he never durst have aspired for Nadalia: he told him also, that he well understood that his house was very Illustrious, that it had never given place to any other but that of Barsa, and that the greatest Kings of Africa were oftentimes entered into his Alliance. But according to the custom (added he) of persons of this age, who believe that too much consideration cannot be had in engagements of this nature, you may please to take a few days to try whether you can continue in the good inclination you have for Nadalia; and for my particular, I shall employ myself in deliberating upon the matter, and taking order for my affairs. In the mean time I shall command Nadalia to have the same civility and respect for you, she ought to have for a person that designs to espouse her, and on whom, in appearance, she must in a short time depend. Ah, happy Hanno! (cried my Master) Yes, my Lord, I am so (answered Hanno) and I am so much more, as I believed I should never attain it; so that, my Lord, continued he, I beg your permission to cast myself at the feet of Alcon to return him thanks. Upon which, Hanno having ended these words, was casting himself at the feet of Nadalia's Father; but Alcon with held him, and protested that it was on his part alone to render thanks, because he was the only person that received advantage in this affair. The great Prince of Carthage was extremely glad to see the satisfaction of the Father, and the lover of Nadalia; and being he had a great kindness for Hanno, and much tenderness for Nadalia, in regard to her particular merits, and much more upon the account of her being extremely dear to Thomira, he resolved to contribute something to the solemnity and glory of the Marriage. Wherefore he promised Hanno the Government of Spain, for recompense of the remarkable actions he had performed in the employments and charges had been laid upon him; and you shall know this day (added he) in what fashion I will acquit myself towards the lovely Nadalia of a promise which I have made her. Alcon and Hanno very respectfully presented their acknowledgements to my Master; and soon after complemented one the other very obligingly, having observed that the Prince Hannibal took pleasure in the sight, and that he desired not any of that cautious heed and circumspection between them, whereunto his presence seemed to oblige. But at length, after some discourse together proceeding from the inspiration of a true and sincere affection HAnnibal and Hanno left the Saguntine Senator, and came to the house where we were lodged, and there my Master stayed Hanno to Dinner. But they spoke together apart for some time before they went to the Table; and we observed that Hanno could not contain from expressing himself extremely satisfied, and that that conversation had been above measure advantageous unto him.  
After Dinner the Prince of Carthage went to Thomira, where the company was without question very fair, several Ladies of Saguntum being resorted thither; and besides them there was also Lucius, Maharbal, Alorca, Adherbal, and Magar. the conversation when it began was extremely agreeable, although sufficiently serious; for Nadalia did not seem to be so frolic and pleasant this day as formerly. Every one attaqued her; and when she began a little to disengage herself, she became incomparably more intricated, till at length she perceived Hanno entering into the Chamber of the Princess. It is impossible to express the admirable effects the presence of Hanno produced; it suffices to tell that the fair Nadalia blushed assoon as she first perceived him, and presently made him a more respectful reverence than she was accustomed to do. After which she seemed to be so amused and perplexed, that all the company resented I know not what kind of emotion beyond my power to express; but Hanno was more sensibly affected with it then all the rest, and felt himself almost ecstasied by a secret joy (as he related after) wherewith that sight charmed him. He also perceived that the red in the countenance of the fair Nadalia, was different from that which arises from aversion or choler: for indeed it was not difficult to Hanno, who was a lover, to make that discernment, how ever it might have been to the rest of the company. For in the like occasions as this, Love is not so blind as men say; but on the contrary it may be conceived, that a Lover reads very many things in the air of the beloved person which are invisible to one that is disinteressed, although such a one may generally judge more reasonably in all other concernments. But Hanno understood that it was only modesty painted that scarlet in his Mistress cheek; and therefore perceiving no token of aversion or distaste in the visage of this fair Person, he was so perfectly satisfied, that he continued a few moments without knowing what he was to do. Till at length approaching towards Thomira, and making a low reverence to that Illustrious Princess, he presented her (as we knew soon after) the Gift of the Principality of Oreta, which Hannibal bestowed on Nadalia. If the Present which my Master made, had not been of so great importance, yet the manner wherewith he did it, could not but be extremely obliging; for he intended that Thomira should give the principality which Nadalia received and that Anno should only seem to have taken care of the affair. All that understood the thing were as strangely surprised at the unexpectedness of it, as they were extremely satisfied with the Gallantry. The Saguntine Dames were not less pleased with the matter, than any other concerned person could be, and instead of envious sentiments, at the advancements of their equal, they testified only a joy which was remarkably sincere and pure. But Thomira had not the same apprehensions; the satisfaction which she received was blended with something of disgust: and if this Illustrious Person was pleased to behold Nadalia suddenly preferred, ye she could not but with impatience reflect, that Thomira was anew obliged to the Prince of Carthage. Whereupon she refused a long time the p●ssing that into the hands of Nadalia which Anno had put into hers, although she did it with such an obstinacy which had nothing at all or rudeness, but very much of sweetness and civility. At length, she told my Master, that things were far better when they issued from their proper source, and so Nadalia ought to receive from the hands of Prince Hannibal, a gift which seemed to lose something of its value when it passed through these of Thomira.  
My Master was not backward with his return, to tell the Princess, that she might give all, since she was Mistress of all: and although it were not so, Madam (continued he) yet ought not I to cause this present to pass through your fair hands to make it more considerable? Besides, that I know not whether Anno would resent it well, that Nadalia should receive a present from my hands. The Princess of Castulon did notwithstanding still persist in denial; but Hannibal was instant with her with so much address, and the Prince of Celtiberia added his prayers thereunto so successfully, that at length the fair Princess put into the hands of Nadalia the Gift of the Principality of Oreta. This fair Damsel was so astonished, that at first she believed nothing of what she had seen. But when she understood that it was the Illustrious Hannibal that made her such a gift, and the Illustrious Hannibal extremely amorous, she at length believed, what otherwise she could not have done; and making a low reverence to the Princess, she without vanity received the important Present which was made her, and then turned to render thanks to the Princess. But Thomira giving her to know, that it was the Prince Hannibal, to whom her addresses were due, she suddenly offered herself to him; but he interrupted her, and told her that he intended to have made a compliment to her himself, after he had demanded the permission of the Princess. But Nadalia was no sooner out of the arms of Thomira, who embraced and kissed her with an extraordinary tenderness, but Hannibal and Lucius made their compliment unto her: The Ladies likewise made theirs afterwards, as also did Maharbal, Anno, Alorca, Adherbal, and Magar; so that the whole afternoon was spent in a very agreeable confusion, and instead of Nadalia's speaking, all the speech was turned upon Nadalia. About evening Alcon came to render thanks to the Prince of Carthage; he assured him of an inviolable fidelity, and was so diffuse and eloquent in extolling the magnificence of Hannibal, that it would be difficult for me to repeat it to you: He told him, that it belonged to none but to the great Prince of Carthage to make such Presents, and to make them to persons which could not deserve them; So that, my Lord (continued he) it cannot be said that you recompense, but rather that you confer a largess, entirely pure and glorious. My Master, answered Alcon very obligingly; after which this Senator presented to him two persons of a sufficient comely aspect, who were the Delegates of Castulon, which Thomira would not admit, till they had first assured the Prince Hannibal of their services and respects. Hannibal shall always receive you (said my Master to the Delegates embracing them) but he will receive you as friends, not as Delegates; for 'tis our Princess alone (added he, being carried by his passion) that aught to give audience in what ever place she be. He after made a thousand civilities to the Delegates, and did not send them back, till he had first conferred on them very magnificent presents.  
The next morning my Master went to visit the Prince of Celtiberia, whereas the conversation came to fall concerning the Delegates of Castulon, Lucius said he thought it fit the Princess should make the journey they came to beseech her to. The people of Castulon (proceeded he) have of long time desired ardently to see her; and although it were not so, yet we ought not to be averse in removing the Princess from a place which cannot but appear to her very lamentable and disconsolate. My Master was presently of this opinion, it seemed so just and advantageous to the repose of Thomira; so that Lucius, Alcon, Nadalia, and the Delegates of Castulon, made their proposal the same day, and obtained that of the Princess which they demanded. Nevertheless it was not without many entreaties and instances, because Thomira alleged she could not resolve to forsake Saguntum, nor to go take pleasure in Castulon, at a time wherein she knew not what was become of the Prince her Father. Lucius did not fail to answer to every particular, and to press his fair Cousin so far, that she at length promised to depart when ever it should seem good to him. My Master had no sooner learned from Lucius the resolution of the Princess, but he gave all orders that were necessary, and caused all provisions to be so diligently dispatched, that within two days all was in readiness for this departure. It were impossible for me to describe all there was of splendid, agreeable, and pompous in this journey: it suffices to say that Thomira, Nadalia, and ten or twelve fair Ladies of Saguntum, composed this company, that Hannibal, Lucius, Anno, Alorca, and several other great Carthaginian and Saguntine Lords, waited upon these Ladies, whilst Maharb●l, Adherbal, and Magar, conducted the Troops. But as it is impossible to describe exactly the gallantry and splendour of this journey, so also must it not be tolerated to omit wholly this fair part of my Narration in silence. Therefore I am bold to assure you, that never was any thing seen so magnificent in Habiliments, Chariots, Horses, and all kind of accoutrements that might add lustre to the Equipage. Anno and Nadalia were very gallantly clothed, and the Princess who had refused all care that was offered to adorn her, appeared notwithstanding very comely and admirably fair, in a Gown of white silk, guarded with a little broydery of silver. Lucius was very well adjusted, although he was absent from the Princess of the ●●ergetes, and his aspect was so high and noble, that without question he would have born the glory away from all men, if Hannibal had not been in the party. But without exaggeration, I may say that my Illustrious Master appeared in this reencounter, although it were only a piece of Gallantry, something above that which men seem to be; and his great and fierce mind was yet more advantaged by the care he had permitted his attendants to use in dressing him magnificently during his voyage. On the day of the departure he wore a st●tely Coat of Arms of purple, which the Tyrians had presented him with, and which was all embroidered with Pearls, and beset with a prodigious number of Stones of great price, which cast a sparkling lustre on all sides: his head was not covered but with a small Helmet, garnished with the fairest plumes that were ever seen in Africa: he bore a javelin in his right hand, and on his left side a sword enameled with Diamonds, on which he had not yet da●ed to put any Tokens of his love to avoid the displeasure of his Princess. That which admirably set off all these ornaments, was a brave white Steed whereon my Master was mounted for this day, which was so goodly and proud, that the like had scarce ever been seen in our Countries, where notwithstanding you know are bred the goodliest Horses in the world. To all this must be added, that the Prince of whom I spoke, was a young Conqueror, that had filled the whole earth with the fame of his Victories.  
It would be also requisite to describe the aspect which animated all this bravery and imprinted respect, and oftentimes fear in the breasts of those which beheld it, were it not sufficient to say that I am speaking of the famous Hannibal. Of whom having thus largely dilated, I should be unwilling to resolve to describe the other persons who were of this company, were it not that I am obliged thereunto, and that I conceive it necessary to inform you of some particularities, for the better comprehending of some great passages which I have to recount you. You may please therefore to know, my Lords, That Alorca, after the departure of Attanes, commanded all the Auxiliary ●roops, and that notwithstanding this employment, he was so wholly bend to be near the Princess during all this voyage, that he left the conduct of his Troops to the inferior Officers, and always marched with Hannibal, Lucius, and Anno, by the side of the chariot of Thomira, in which also Nadalia was with a fair Virgin of Saguntum, her Cousin. All the world believed at first, that this deportment of Alorca proceeded only from his ambition; but there were some persons that observed it so narrowly, that they soon suspected a piece of the truth, and saw that ambition did not reign alone in his soul. For Alorca had somewhat of melancholy, and musing at such times as all the world diverts themselves; and it is certain that he was the only person that never spoke to Nadalia, against whom all the world had engaged to endeavour the overthrow of a person who had appeared redoubtable in the conversations which had been made at Sagunium.  
The subject of them was likewise very agreeable, for Alcon who was one in this journey, had given his word that the Marriage of Nadalia should be solemnised at Castulon, so that this fair person looking upon Anno as a man designed to espouse her, and also esteeming him a person commendable for many noble qualifications; she sometimes gave testimonies of the favourable inclinations she had towards him. Not that Anno had made very great progress in the heart of Nadalia, the conquest of which was too difficult to cost so little time, and so few services: but it may be conceived that the worth of this Carthaginian joined with the commandment of a Father, had not acted without some success.  
I shall not entertain you, my Lords (said Aspar) with other particularities of this voyage, nor hold you in a relation of the commodious reception of the whole company in all places, my Master having taken an admirable order for all those concernments: only this you may please to understand, that on the sixth day of our travail we arrived at Castulon, where the people received the Princess and her Illustrious Company with infinite rejoicings and acclamations: five or six days were spent in Feast and public sports, which the Princess was constrained to permit, notwithstanding the absence of Edescon: after which she took order for the affairs of Castulon, and all that depended thereon. But before disposing of the charges she had to bestow, she made a compliment to my Master, and told him that she durst not entreat the great Prince of Carthage to take into his hands the disposal of them: yet it is fit, my Lord (added she with great civility) that I take the liberty to offer small things unto you; for if I expected till I could present you with something worthy of you, I should without doubt await unprofitably. My Master returned the Princess thanks with much respect; and if you will not, Madam (proceeded he) offer me things which you judge not worthy of me, give me, I beseech you, divine Princess, such as I acknowledge myself unworthy of; that is, added he sighing, some proof of your goodness, and some small testimony of your inclinations. Hannibal pronounced these words with an ai● so passionate, that Thomira was a little touched with them. And as she was about to answer him, and perhaps favourably too, the Prince of Celtiberia, Alcon, and Alorca, interrupted her by entering her Chamber, where was made afterwards no other than a General conversation. In the mean time Anno, who was upon the point of becoming happy, repaired to Alcon, whose apartment was in the Palace of Thomira, to beseech the favour of him to delay his felicity no longer. But assoon as he had communicated this design to Nadalia, that fair person opposed it, and conjured Hanno in terms so powerful, that it was impossible for the passionate Carthaginian to resist such prayers. You may well judge, Hanno (said she to him) that 'tis not out of aversion that I oppose your design: If I have yet any repugnance to become engaged for my whole life, it is not by reason of any consideration of yours; and I do not apprehend your proposal terrible, but only because it must necessarily separate me from the Princess, and because I have a certain humour which is not yet disposed to an engagement of this kind. Therefore give me two or three days if you please, to resolve myself absolutely upon it, and I promise you that I will endeavour to serve the Prince of Carthage; for in brief (added she) I shall labour for the advantage of the Princess, when I shall endeavour to overcome a scruple in her breast, which is opposite to the happiness of Hannibal, and I shall have the satisfaction to contribute something to the contentment of a great Prince, to whom I am importantly obliged: and to tell you the truth (proceeded she) I should be glad that the Princess should become engaged first, to avoid the regret of having began to separate myself from her. Nadalia pronounced these words with so much grace, and a kind of pleasing freedom, that Hanno found himself closely encountered; he was about to obey and rebel at the same time, and his irresolution appeared to manifestly in his countenance, that Nadalia observed it. In the name of the immortal Gods, Hanno, (replied this fair person) accord me this— Ah, cruel Nadalia (interrupted Hanno) do not do me the injury to believe that I will disobey you. I have only one passion in my soul, which you have given birth to there; so that the trouble which you observe is no Rebellion. it proceeds from that passion alone which combats itself, and which would deem itself weak, did it not act both for you in this occasion and against you. 'Tis not that I am unresolved to do all you require of me: but I might accuse you of having produced too many reasons, where there needed but one command. I will obey you in all things, Nadalia, and you cannot doubt it, since I obey you in this occasion.  
As they were in these terms, they beheld Alcon enter, who came from Thomira, who having saluted Hanno, It is fit (said he to him) that according to the custom of the world, I impart you some news which will surprise you, and tell you that the Princess hath conferred the Government of Castulon upon Alorca. But it must be confessed (pursued he with an air wholly serious) That this fair Princess, as young as she is, is the most judicious person in the world. She represented me a thousand reasons which obliged her to choose Alorca to fill this charge: she gave me to understand, that there was jealousy between the most noble Families of Castulon, which pretended to this employment; & that so it was meet to intrust it with a stronger, to extinguish that jealousy; she also made me know, that she was glad to have acquitted herself in any measure towards the Prince of Carthage, in which regard she preferred Alo●ca, and that even before the Carthaginians, because he had served Hannibal without being obliged unto it; she choose him, by reason of his being a Spaniard, and consequently could not but understand better than the Carthaginian, in what sort a people of Spain ought to be governed: besides, that she believeed Alorca would not be deficient in point of fidelity, because, for some time, as you know, he hath bend himself towards her with an extraordinary zeal. Hanno returned an answer approving yet more the choice which Thomira had made, and added many reasons to those of Alcon, and so spent his visit in speaking of any other thing then the subject which induced to go to the Father of Nadalia. But the amiable Daughter of Alcon began immediately to act in favour of my Master; she communicated her design to Lucius, who approved it extremely; and as he conceived it advantageous to Thomira, he promised to concur on his part, and to represent to his fair Cousin that she ought not to be obstinate in refusal of a thing which a thousand reasons should cause her to accept. But that which was yet more rare, was, that the same day also, the people of Castulon began to talk that it was fit the Princess Thomira should marry the Prince Hannibal; & there were some so bold as to go even into the Court of the Palace, and say aloud, that the Princess, as judicious as she was, had no reason to refuse for a Husband, the greatest Prince of the world. My Master himself imposed silence to them, which spoke in this manner; and was so apprehensive, that the bruit which was abroad, might distaste his Princess, that he made great liberalities to cause all zealous persons to hold their peace, which without doubt many other persons would have encouraged to speak out in the like conjuncture. It is indeed true, that Thomira was troubled at this indiscreet zeal; that she was through discontent retired into her Cabinet, and if the presence of Lucius and Nadalia, who together came to wait upon her, had not been some consolation, she would unquestionably have resented much greater disturbance.  
Well, Lucius and Nadalia (said she) have you observed the levity of the people of Castulon? and do you not remark that it seems they have not been so desirous to see me, and forward to receive me with expressions of joy, but to render me this day more nearly sensible of their insolence. It is certain (added she a little moved) that Princes would be unhappy enough, if they were bound to follow the humour of the people, and indeed more unhappy than their subjects; for these have the satisfaction of being subject only to persons that act usually according to reason, whereas Princes would be obliged to follow the sentiments of the people, who ordinarily act only by capriccios and conceit. Nevertheless, Madam (answered Lucius) this of Castulon believes they have acted according to reason, and to your advantage; although to speak reasonably, it is not fitting for people to attempt, even commendable things, in tumult; and I believe their best intentions become criminal, when they are explicated in a seditious manner. Wherefore we may conjecture that 'tis the manner of acting that hath provoked you, and not the subject, which makes the people of Castulon murmur: for, Madam, this being no wise disadvantageous to you, I cannot persuade myself that it ought to be disagreeable to you, I shall pass further, Madam (said Nadalia) than the Prince of Celtiberia, and aver that you ought to be glad of this tumult; and being you have a scrupulous virtue (which, perhaps, you ought not to follow so severely) there is reason for you to be satisfied, that there is occasion to believe that the prayers of your people extort a consentment from you, which you otherwise dare not give, and which besides will instate you in the regency of half the world. This is not all, Madam (continued she) let us consider things in their true colours: Can you see in the world a Prince more puissant, goodly, and that can bring you more honour? And although the Illustrious Hannibal should not have done what he hath to gain your esteem, could you refuse it him after that which he hath done to day. For sincerely it is very admirable, that in your consideration, he hath silenced the people who spoke not but in his favour. How, Nadalia (interrupted the Princess) is it possible that I should owe an obligation of this nature to the Prince Hannibal? There is nothing more true than what I have said (replied Nadalia) and it is certain, Madam, that the generous Prince of Carthage, in the fear he had this bruit might disgust you, resolved to extinguish it: which being a matter of difficulty to effect, and that he could not think of ill-entreating persons that acted for his advantage, he hath accomplished it by so great liberalites, that one may say that the same time he caused a whole people to hold their peace, he gave them a new subject to talk of. But, Madam (continued he) if after a serious disourse. I might be permitted to resume a kind of air, for which I have often been warred upon, I should only describe to you the conduct of Alorca; he suddenly hath appeared all pale and troubled; he trembled even at his entrance into the Palace, at least I have been told so, and said and did such things as I am not curious to relate unto you; for did I know them really; Madam, I should know more than he doth himself.  
It must be acknowledged (replied the Princess, all surprised with this discourse) that Hannibal is extremely generous, and that that Prince which was formerly represented to me all fierce and violent, has transcendent civility in his actions. But it must also be confessed that there is a kind of fallacity which causeth me to have these Obligations to that Prince, rather than to the persons I might expect them from; for setting aside Hannibal's calming the bruit we spoke of, doth it not seem that Alorca who hath both wit and courage, loseth the employment of both in this occasion, to the end Hannibal alone should oblige me? In verity I do not comprehend the intrigue of this management, but find something in it not conformable to the wont order of things; and in a word, I believe that Hannibal is destined to do nothing but what is great and surprising. My Master entered about the end of these words, and understanding by Lucius and Nadalia the subject of the conversation, he did not afford the Princess time to thank him, but rendered her his own remerciments for her singular goodness, and this with very much respect, and yet with as great fear, as he should have had, if he had excited the tumult which he appeased. Madam, said this passionate Prince, you have the goodness to take notice of a thing of my doing, which a thousand others might have done, and yet do not observe that which is far greater in me; and which Hannibal alone is capable of doing: Yes, Madam, a thousand Princes may serve you, a thousand adore you, and a thousand die for Thomira; but, divine Princess (added he with a transport) no person can adore you in the manner that Hannibal adores you; he resents for you that which he alone is capable to resent; and hath so great respects for the Princess Thomira, that he could imagine nothing greater, did not he attend uncessantly to the infinite merit which hath given them birth. The passionate discourse of my Master raised such a fresh vermilion in the face of the fair Thomira, who daring not to behold Hannibal, nor Lucius, nor Nadalia, remained as astonished instead of being able to answer. Speak, Madam, speak (said the generous Celtiberian) but be pleased to speak in such sort that the prince Hannibal have no cause to accuse you of ingratitude. How, Madam? (added Nadalia) can you observe what the Illustrious Hannibal does for you and yours, without doing for him that which even virtue obliges you to. Alas (answered the fair Thomira (sighing) who could have thought that Lucius and Nadalia should take the side of the prince of the Carthaginians, against the prince of the Saguntines? We speak to the advantage of Edescon (returned Lucius) and to take away all pretext of refusing that which we demand, we shall agree that you act according to the sentiments of the Queen of Celtiberia: You are not ignorant what an extraordinary tenderness she hath for you: that she hath always been in place of a Mother to you; and that she will never be induced to do any thing which the Prince her brother might disapprove; so that, Madam, we shall send a dispatch this day to the King and the Queen of Celtiberia, to let them know the pretensions of the prince Hannibal, and shall afterwards act according to their answer. Not (added he) but that Edescon may come before we have news from Celtiberia; for although he were gone to Rome, or some other potent Confederate to procure succour against Hannibal, he will nevertheless not fail to come assoon as he shall know with what respects Hannibal treats the Princess his Daughter, and to change his sentiments upon so apparent evidences that his enemies have changed theirs, I proceed yet further, and promise you to give you within eight days perfect intelligence of Edescon: For Alcon, on whom Hannibal hath charged this affair, demands no longer time to discover a truth, whereof he hath already great conjectures.  
After these words Lucius and Nadalia further importuned Thomira, and at length did it so successfully, that she became mollified and compliant. My Master immediately cast himself at her feet, and uttered so tender expressions, that she was yet more affected therewith, then with all that she had heard. She offered to raise up my Master, and stretching forth her hand for that purpose, the passionate prince bowed himself to kiss it, and believed that for all his pains and services he had now received a recompense too glorious. But Lucius and Nadalia had more favourable judgements for him, and had no sooner appeased the princess, who was disgusted with the freedom of Hannibal, but they told her that she ought to give the Prince leave to hope to be happy. Thomira answered nothing, but gave such testimony that she began to have some good will towards my Master, that her silence was interpreted an probation, and Lucius and Nadalia received extreme satisfaction therewith. It is not necessary to speak of the joy my Master resented; and being I am not able to represent his excess, I shall be contented to tell you; that the same day a Courier was dispatched to the Court of Celtiberia, a certain bruit was spread through the City of Castulon, that the marriage of Thomira was concluded; and this rumour was the cau●e that it was afterwards published over all the world, that Hannibal was married at Castulon, though none could ever tell the particulars of his marriage. Upon which the whole City began most extraordinary revelling, so that I should have enough to speak of the public Sports and Festivals, with the matches of racing and gallantry made thereupon, were I not obliged to describe to you in the sequel of my discourse, all the bravery and magnificence my Master showed in Campania, where after the battle of Canna, he went to find the Princess instead of going to Rome: for I shall let you see that the delights of Cupua so much talked of, were altogether another thing from that which is reported, and that they would have had nothing in them but Illustrious, had they not arrested the conquests of my Illustrious Master. Nevertheless these divertisements of Campania could never entirely satisfy Hannibal; The Prince hath sighed a thousand times in the delicious Capua; and this great person, in what place soever he was, could never taste any contentments without mixture, as you will soon see he was extremely unhappy at Castulon, at the same time he believed himself raised to a supreme felicity. For as all things were in the best posture he could wish, and on the same day the messenger of Lucius arrived, according to the account made of the way, my Master went to wait upon the Princess, where he was with such joy as could be resented by a young Prince, who hath very great Love and Hope. He found only Alorca in the Princes●s Chamber, so that he repressed himself less then if he had been in a great company (although Thomira alone was to him instead of all the world) and permitted the effects of his spirit to act with liberty, impressing upon his aspect all the tokens of an excessive joy.  
Well, Madam, (said he, with some kind of quickness and life in his air) will you have the goodness to follow the sentiments of the Queen your Aunt, and may I hope to be happy, if they be favourable unto me? My Lord (answered the Princess) I am obliged to oppose them, if they be such as you speak of. How, Madam, (replied Hannibal immediately in much trouble) will you resist the sentiments of the Queen of Celtiberia, if they be advantageous unto me? Have you not consented to my happiness, but only to let me be ovewhelmed at once with a loss the most dreadful and bitter in the world? I had many dispositions (answered Thomira) not to oppose very rigorously the requests of Lucius and Nadalia; but I do not conceive I positively consented to that which they importuned me for. An express consent, Madam (replied my Master) ought not to be expected from a Princess as you are; and I should be too happy to see you disposed to accord me so much, although things were in a condition requisite to advance me to this glory. But, Madam, (continued he) is it possible that you should change so cruelly against me? and that a Princess, such as the divine Thomira, can act in a manner which seems to me indeed strange and surprising. Perhaps you will not be surprised with it (replied Thomira) if you knew the reasons which oblige me to act in this sort. I shall answer your reasons, Madam (interrupted he) and I engage myself to make it appear they cannot be important.  
You would change your mind, without doubt (said the Princess) if it were expedient for me to discover them. Ah, Madam (interrupted he) will you not discover them? My Lord (replied she) I must not do it. How, Madam (cried he, permitting himself to his despair, and the violence of his humour) must you not do it? you must do it, Madam; and moreover (added he fiercely) you ought to consider who I am; you ought to consider that you have destroyed me, and that to render ruin inevitable, you have the cruelty to suffer me to be ignorant of the cause.  
After these words, the Prince perceiving himself not master enough of his passion, went forth of Thomira's Chamber, and retired to his own, where he was during some time agitated with many contrary inquietudes. And, well, Thomira (said he at last) as if the Princess had been in the Chamber where he walked) well, cruel Thomira! unjust Thomira! do you not consider who I am? have you forgot what I have done for you? and without respect to the Empire, I have over divers Nations, or to the adoration I bear you, having been ready to die for▪ you, you push me upon the precipice, and to enhance your cruelty yet more, you add all inhuman circumstances to my inhappiness: yes, Thomira, you are cruel, since you promise not, but to refu●e afterwards, since you seem not to to raise me to felicity, but to precipitate me in effect into the greatest of all miseries, and employ this terrible afterclap as a new kind of punishment to torment me more sensibly. Are you not injust, O Thomira, that would have me perish without knowing for why? and are you not injust to keep me ignorant of the cause of my unhappiness, to the end I may have no power to address it? The grief of Hannibal spent itself in this complaint, so that the Prince came to himself after a few moments, and demanded pardon of the princess, and uttered with a calmer tone a hundred things contrary to the former; Fair Thomira (said he) adoreable Thomira! I am culpable; and the reproaches alone which I have raged against, render me worthy of a thousand deaths. I have dared to say that you ought to have regard who I am, and did not consider that I am a monster come from Africa to Spain, to the calamity of the fairest Princess of the world: and though I had done all things for you, had I done more than I ought; and should you have been obliged to me, since all I could have done, would have but served to appease the sorrow I have caused you. It is true, Thomira, that you have promised me all, and afterwards denied me all; but, divine Princess, when you promised me all, you did me an act of Grace, and I have therefore no reason to complain when you grant me nothing, since you are not obliged to give me the Treasure which I have demanded, and whereof I acknowledge myself unworthy.  
This is not all my crime, fair Thomira, I have carried it further, and murmured at my condemnation, when you would not declare the reasons for which I was condemned. Ought not I to consider, O Thomira, that you always act with justice; and that being the Sovereign of my life, you are not obliged to render me account of what you do, especially when you dispose of nothing but what is your own: Wherefore, Thomira, I shall expiate my crime in your presence, and wash it out it with my blood; if you refuse me the pardon, which I shall sue for at your feet.  
He was going forth after these words; but it was told him, that Alcon attended to see him, to communicate to him an affair of great importance. Let him enter (answered Hannibal) which he had scarcely done, but the Prince demanded of him, if Thomira were inflexible. My Lord (answered the Saguntine) I am come to tell you things that will surprise you, which I had from the relation of Nadalia, while you were with the Princess, You know (continued he) that Attanes passionately loves the Princess of Castulon; but you have not yet understood, that that King caused Edescon to be carried away from Saguntum, that he retains him at present, and pretends to give him protection against you. But, my Lord▪ you ought not to be astonished if Attanes told you, he had a means 〈…〉 the heart of Thomira, seeing he believed he had the disposal or that of Edescon. Let us go then (interrupted Hannibal impatiently) let us go draw the Father of my Princess out of the hands of Attanes. But Alcon (added he, addressing to the Saguntine Senator) may I believe what you relate? There is nothing more certain (answered Alcon) and I have engaged Attanes to confess it to me: And if I have conferred with him concerning his departure from Saguntum, it was to no other purpose, then to persuade him to remit the Prince Edescon into liberty: But this amorous King could not be brought to resolve it, and required time to deliberate upon a precise answer. If to that which I tell you, I may add my conjecture; I shall dare to assure you, my Lord, that it must needs be, that the King of the Turdetanes hath some covert Agent about Thomira, who informs him of all that concerns the Princess: For within the time that I undertook, we should not only have the consentment of Edescon, but that we should have that Prince himself at Castulon, within twenty fifteen days: Within that time, I say, the Princess received this Letter, which in all likelihood Attanes hath caused to be written, and which I took from the hand of Nadalia, to show you.  
Ending these words, he presented a Letter to the Prince Hannibal; which ran in these expressions.  
EDESCON to THOMIRA.  
AFter the loss of Saguntum, there was nothing left me to lose, but my only Daughter to be totally overwhelmed with misfortunes; and you would have me lose her, ingrateful Thomira! unnatural Thomira! since you are determined to bestow yourself on my Enemies. I could never have believed, that a Princess bred with so much care, aught to yield herself to the first that sought her, when the remoteness of her Parents permitted her to act according to her own inclination. But why should you have any regard to seemliness, if you violate all the Laws that subject you to Edescon, and which absolutely prohibit you to engage without his consent: Possibly you believe it to no purpose to desire a consent, which you think I ought not to give. Ah, Thomira! if you are yet capable of this thought, consider the justice of your proceeding; and whatever happens, augment not your crime, by shortly informing me of a thing done, and of such a thing as you never ought to have done, but by my order. But I would to the Gods, O Thomira, that this Letter might affect you, and divert you, from being drawn to so strange a resolution. But I fear this wish is improfitable, after what you have already done. Have you not given the Government of Castulon, to a man that served Carthage against your Father? What remains more to be done for the Carthaginians? Alas, I see, it is consequent for the crowning of your crime, to give them Thomira also, and that you effect my death with sorrow,  
EDESCON.  

The Prince of Carthage was, as it were, Thunderstruck, at the reading of this Letter. Ah cruel Destiny, unmerciful Fates! (cried he) must it be, that I ardently desire to see Edescon, and that at the same time I know it possible to see him, I must also know, that he is an Enemy to Hannibal? Alas, Alcon, all is lost for me: But if Edescon and Thomira (added he, following the impetuousness of his temper) are Enemies to Hannibal, then let Hannibal side with them, and become an Enemy to himself. Yes, Alcon, I will be so, and when I shall have destroyed the King of the Turdetanes, and established Edescon and Thomira in Saguntum, I shall cause the infortunate Hannibal to die at the feet of the adorable Princess of Castulon.  
My Lord (answered Alcon) you shall permit me, if you please, to say, that I conceive your complaint not extremely well grounded: Without doubt, Edescon knows nothing of the Prince of Carthag's pretensions to his alliance; and he would never have written this Letter which afflicts you, unless some body had deguised the affair to provoke him. But, my Lord (continued he) let not this discourse incense you against the King of the Turdetanes: if you regard his crime, consider, I beseech you, that he is amorous, and leave me the care to bring him to set Edescon at liberty, and so afterwards dispose that Prince to render you happy. How greatly should I be obliged to you (replied my Master) if you would do all that you say! having so great cause to apprehend, lest the effect answer not your promises, when I see you promise too much.  
I believe notwithstanding, my Lord (replied the Senator) that I am easily able to bring to pass all that I promise; for in short, my Lord, do you believe that Attanes, to retain Edescon, will draw upon himself an Army of a hundred thousand men, with the great Hannibal in the head of it? and although that should not be, is he in a condition to be able to keep that Prince? So that is it possible for him to stick at the giving of that, which he may soon be forced to surrender? and can he imagine himself capable to withstand you? For Edescon (pursued he) I shall have less difficulty to win upon his mind; and that Prince, I am assured, will be so ravished with the proposal which I shall make to him in your behalf, that he will easily forget all his losses; which to speak truth, are gloriously repaired in such an illustrious Alliance. My Master heard these words with an extreme satisfaction, and the passion which possessed him, giving ordinarily more hope than fear, and above all, to persons of a high spirit, he felt all his pensiveness and apprehension dissipated in a moment: And embracing the Saguntine Senator, I shall owe all to you Alcon (said he to him) and you may assuredly expect my acknowledgements. Go Alcon (continued he) and that this day, I beseech you, that you leave me no longer in an impatience, which is insupportable unto me. In the mean time, to follow and authorise your counsel, I will put myself at the head of a part of my Army, and go by open force to obtain that of Attanes, which perhaps he would refuse you, if you have nothing but reasons to urge him with. My Lord (answered Alcon) I shall depart, seeing it is your pleasure. Do so immediately (replied Hannibal) and to secure against any notice to be given to the King of the Turdetanes, prejudicial to us, our design must not be communicated to any person. And for myself (added he) I shall discover it to none whatsoever, saving to the Prince of Celtiberia, to whom I have very great obligations.  
After these words, my Master expressed some impatience; and Alcon knowing that this Prince willed nothing but with earnestness and passion, left him, and went to provide conveniences for his journey. Hannibal repaired to Lucius, and communicated this Design to him; and the generous Celtiberian having long since protested that he would follow him, he was at length constrained to suffer this obliging Prince to engage himself to join with him aftter the return of the Courier, which he had dispatched to the Queen his Mother.  
At his departure from Lucius, my Master was minded to visit the Princess; but he durst not do it, and therefore resolved to attend till the Prince Edescon should present him: So that without longer delay at Castulon, we mounted horse, and Alcon did not separate from us, till he had cause the Prince Hannibal to promise to do no act of hostility, before he knew his negotiations was unprofitable. The Saguntine Senator had not sooner put himself upon his way; but Hannibal accompanied with Hanno, Magar, and three or four Officers, took theirs toward the Villages which are upon the banks of Batis, between Castulon and Hispalis, where were quartered a considerable number of Soldiers. My Master soon summoned them, and gave such orders as he thought necessary for the management of his design. He attended news from Alcon in these parts about six days, and on the sixth day a paquet was brought him, when he was upon the point of going to bed. It is easy to judge that the Prince instantly read what Alcon had written to him, and that it was not without an extreme joy that he understood this Senator had acted with success. He also learned that the hatred which Regulus had against the Carthaginians, had not been a less obstruction to Alcon, than the love which Attanes had for Thomira had perplexed him; but that at length Alcon had accomplished the thing, having been powerfully seconded by the Turdetanes, whom the only name of Hannibal had immediately caused to murmur both against Regulus and Attanes himself: so that my Master was assured that Edescon was upon the point of coming to Castulon, that he was very glad to have understood aright the things from Alcons' mouth, which had been misrepresented to him; and towards the end of the Letter. Hannibal was entreated to expect more particular news within four days. Alcon came himself to deliver them precisely at the time he was to send them, being accompanied with a person of a most high and majestic aspect, whom we soon knew to be the Prince of the Saguntines, My Master ran to receive Edescon, which he did with so much respect and difference, that I should have difficultly believed what I saw, had I not presently recollected that Edescon was Father of the princess Thomira.  
But, my Lords (said Aspar to the Princes who listened to him) you may please to permit me to pass over in silence the particularities of this interview, and only to tell you that these two Princes made a thousand respectful protestations to one another, and after that a thousand excuses for all they had done against one another, before their mutual knowledge: and in a word, Edescon rendered Hannibal that which he thought belonged to a Prince which reigned over all Africa, and part of Europe, and who was yet more considerable for his illustrious qualities, then for the extent of his Dominion. Nevertheless all that Edescon rendered, did not equal that which he received of Hannibal; for the respects which my Master had for the Prince of the Saguntines, were not inferior to the passion he had for the Princess of Castulon, by which I leave you to judge of their intenseness, and intimate to you the impossiblity for me to be exact in this part of my Narration, if I would particularze it. These first Civilities being ended (proceeded Aspar) wherein esteem and ackowledgement supplied the office of ordinary Ceremonies, the two Princes, with Alcon and Hanno, went to dinner, and each of them after the repast, testified their extreme desire to return to Castulon, to see the fair Princess of Thomira, and the amiable daughter of Alcon; wherefore they all took horse as soon as was possible, expressing great transports of joy in their approaching near Castulon, that it would have been hard to have distinguished the most satisfied person amongst them, excepting my Master. You will not wonder, my Lord, (said the Prince of the Saguntines to him of Carthage) that I appear very much contented, if you consider I am a Father, and that I am upon the point of seeing a daughter, for whom I have an infinite tenderness. Ah, My Lord, answered Hannibal) express, I beseech you, all that which contributes to your satisfaction; confess that the Princess of Castulon is a person wholly miraculous, and omitting the goodness to conceal what I have done against you, declare that you are going to see that admirable princess, after three or four apparent hazards of losing her. My Lord (replied Edescon) I shall never conceal that which is glorious for you; and if I can forget any thing of your Victories, it shall be only the circumstances which have been prejudicial to me. Nevertheless I will think of those circumstances, that I may have the satisfaction of considering with what generosity you have afterwards obliged us, and with what goodness you have treated Thomira.  
These words of Edescon made my Master blush, as if they were meant to reproach him that he had not done enough; and the name of Thomira pronounced by a man who only could dispose of her, caused the Illustrious Hannibal almost to tremble, as fierce and as haughty as he is: so great is the power of love above that of nature. Yet the great Carthaginian answered him nobly enough; and this conversation having dured for some time, and Alcon and Hanno also spoken of the princess Thomira, the discourse fell afterwards to be of the amiable Daughter of Alcon, which lasted till the company all alighted at a Village within half a day's journey of Castulon, with intent to lodge there. The next morning putting ourselves again upon the way, Hannibal could not moderate the passions which agitated him, and his love was accompanied with top great desires, too great hope and joy, for him to be master of it. So that yielding himself to the bent of his impatience, he made his excuses to the prince of Edescon, and separated himself from the rest, to see his Princess sooner, and to give her the news, which could not but be most agreeable unto her. At length, Aspar (said he, when we were a little distant from Edescon) at length Hannibal is the most happy person in the world; he shall soon see his Princess; but he shall see her with the authority of Edescon, and in a small time, Aspar; yes, very suddenly he shall be exalted to the greatest felicity the world is able to give him. Yes, I shall immediately see my Princess (said he, a few moments after, with a transport of joy) I shall see that fair and adorable person, and moreover I shall see her without fear of becoming unhappy. I should never end, if I should rehearse all the passionate Prince said to me; for he spoke so many things, and with so little connexion, that it is impossible for me to remember them. In the mean time, we sped with so much alacrity, that it was not long before we discovered the Towers of Castulon, and that sight ravishing Hannibal with joy, augmented the quickness of our pace. It is not fit to detain you long in this part of my discourse, being I think myself rather obliged to tell you that we are arrived at Castulon; and if we arrived two hours sooner there then I believed we could have done, we did also find our joy more augmented thereby then we thought it could have been. My Master hastened to the Palace, and immediately demanded to see the Princess, but instead of an answer, there was nothing returned him but sighs, and he perceived that no body dared to open their mouths to speak. Hannibal remained confounded, and not venturing to ask what he feared to know, he but too well understood that this silence spoke some sad accident. Nevertheless he would attempt it at length, and demanded where the princess was, if she were sick, or not; and so peremptorily commanded it to be told him, that one of the most confident of the attendants gave him this information; My Lord (said he to the Prince Hannibal) two days are passed since we saw the Princess, and since we cannot learn what is become of Alorca, who is probably with her. We have spent (continued he) these two days in search, but we have sought unprofitably, having found only a veil of the Illustrious princess Thomira. Hannibal, as desperate, as instructed by this discourse: What? shall I not see Thomira (cried he, with a tone that signified the trouble of his spirit) How? is Thomira lost? and shall I never more see that Princess, whose very insensibility hath charms in it, and who can alone render me happy? After which, as his fiery temperament rendered him disposed to violent passions, he walked sometime without speaking a word, and looked up to heaven, as if he accused it of his misfortune, or rather as the only thing against which he thought he might discharge all his choler. Then recollecting himself, Ah, Hannibal! (said he) Thomira flies thee, and without doubt 'tis her hatred which causes this accident that kills thee. But rouse up, O Hannibal (continued he with a higher tone, thou fallest upon Thomira, instead of attaquing the author of thy unhappiness, and dost not accuse the perfidious Alorca for the carrying away of the Princess. Knowest thou not, that that divine person had not fewer charms for Alorca than he had for Hannibal, and that the difference of the proceedings comes not but from that between the Spaniard and the prince of Carthage? Yes, ravisher of my bliss, yes, perfidious Alorca (continued he) thou takest away Thomira from me, thou losest the respect thou owest her; and that which is yet more perplexing, is, that perhaps thou enlargest thy crime further, and treatest a Prince with violence, who deserves the adoration of all the Earth. But I will pursue thee in what ever corner of the world thou shalt hide thee: yes, I will go punish this thy attempt, and with unheard of tortures, revenge an infidelity beyond example. The impetuousness of choler wholly arrested his further speech, and the Prince being driven by the most ardent of all passions, walked about some turns without speaking a word; and when he did speak, there was nothing heard from his entangled discourse but reproaches and menacings.  
They which beheld this agitation of Hannibal, did not believe themselves sufficiently assured of their innocence, they durst not open their mouths in their own justification; and their silence, which was indeed the effect of their fear and respect, seemed to my Master an evidence of their crime: Come (cried he to them) you complices of Alorca; come you perfidious Traitors, let us go seek my divine Princess, and be assured your offences shall not escape unpunished, if if I find not the adorable person it hath bereft me off. He went forth at the end of these words; and causing himself to be conducted to the place where Thomira's Veil was found, he went thither with so great precipitance, that we judged his flame did not less carry him, than it devoured him. When he arrived at the place, his transports were redoubled, and he became perfectly furious, he went a little distance from us, and uttered a thousand imprecations against Alorca.  
I would not abandon the Prince in this deplorable estate, but continued with him till we came to a little Wood, whither he went, that he might totally permit himself to the violence of his passion, or perhaps to act something more tragical. He sought, or perhaps casually found a covert place; where turning his eye at random, or by some instinct, inspired by his choler, to find something on which he might discharge it; he discovered an object that wholly arrested his sight and progress, and rendered him almost immovable: it was a man stretched along at the foot of a great Oak, but it was that man who could only detain the Prince Hannibal, and give him an attention whereof he seemed to be no more capable. My Master immediately knew him to be that Alorca whom he sought; but he observed him in a condition, rather to move his compassion, than the effects of his choler: For he beheld Alorca, not as a Traitor, and a Ravisher, but grievously wounded, and the Alorca whom he had heretofore esteemed, pale, and covered with blood. Hannibal being surprised with this commiserable object, found his choler to rebate some of its violence; and when his reason was capable of acting with liberty: Alorca, said he, thou art dead unquestionably in defence of Thomira; thou hast fallen under the sword of her ravishers, and she hath been carried away by thy death: So that when thou hast lost thy life to preserve that which I love, I accused thee of of a dreadful crime, and thou receivest this sort of recompense from the unjust Hannibal.  
It is true, pursued he, that thou hast been advantageously recompensed, in dying for a Divine Princess; and this Hannibal who accused thee of a crime, thou undertookest to punish, even this Hannibal beholds thy glorious Destiny with envy. Well Aspar, continued he, turning towards me, is it not fit I die, that I live not absent from my Princess? Dye, answered I: Alas, my Lord, you ought to live, that you may go and recover the Princess of Castulon, out of the hands of her Ravishers. But, my Master replied, if Thomira hath consented to her carrying away, and prefers her Ravishers before the unfortunate Hannibal, is it not expedient for me to die, who am so lostly amorous of her.  
My Lord (replied I) if you love the Princess of Castulon in the measure you profess, you ought not to die, when she lives contentedly; and you would be injurious, to despair in this occasion, if what I have learned be true, that it is meet for us to resent the same passions which the persons do we love. Alas, Aspar (interrupted my Master) thou hast either never loved, or never left the person dear to thee in this manner, since thou art ignorant, that a Lover in such a conjuncture, aught to resent contrary passions to those of the beloved person, at such time as she is with his Rival.  
Sccarce had my Master ended these words, but he beheld the Prince Edescon, Alcon, Hanno, and Magar coming, with a great train following them. You see, my Lord (said Hannibal presently to the Prince of the Saguntines) that Thomira is taken away from you: I cannot suspect any other then Attanes capable of this crime, but that Attanes shall soon know whether Hannibal may safely be offended. Alas, my Lord (answered Edescon, in whom sorrow acted after another sort) must I be eternally unhappy? Can it not be that I know Thomira is in being, but to have her pass with me for a criminal? and must not I see my dear Daughter, when I am satisfied of her innocence and virtue? Alas, my Lord, answered my Master— after which he was silent, not daring to continue his discourse, out of a restraint not usual with him; and yet giving us to know by his countenance, that he designed to show his unhappinesses incomparably greater than those of Edescon.  
These two Princes declared their grief a while, only by silent looks; so that Alcon and Hanno were constrained to signify theirs also in the same fashion, being surprised with the like loss; for Nadalia was also carried away with Thomira. But it was at length esteemed meet to retire, and to cause the body of Alorca to be carried to Castulon, to render him the duties of Sepulture. Whereupon they which went to lift him up, perceived something glittering upon the ground, and presently found that it was a small Table-book, the cover of which was enriched with jewels: This they instantly presented to the Prince Hannibal; but scarce had Edescon cast his eye upon it, but he cried, O Gods! behold the Tablet of my dear Thomira! upon which Hannibal offered it to him with great respect: And Edescon having opened it, read these words aloud, which he found in the first leaf.  
Thomira to the Prince Hannibal.  
THe combat of Lucius against Alorca hath very much troubled me; but, my Lord, the disquiet in which I am, must not hinder me from giving you to know, that I was inclined to satisfy you; and I might tell you, if it were fitting, that it was with less repugnance, than a person of my Sex ought apparently to have: Wherefore I have willingly left you this scroll, to assure you, that I was determined to attend you at Castulon, that I designed there to acquit me of what I owe you; and that I should not separate myself from you, if Lucius and Nadalia did not force me so to do.  
Thomira.   

The reading of this Letter, which contained things so little expected, surprised all those that heard it; insomuch, that the two Princes seemed astonished therewith; and silence would have possessed the place a long time, if amongst the crowd that had followed the Prince of the Saguntines, there had not been heard a certain humming of voices, wherein were confusedly mingled, the names of Lucius and Alorca, with those of Thomira and Nadalia. This murmuring noise, in some measure drew Edescon out of his astonishment; who lifting his eyes towards Heaven, and testifying greater sorrow than admiration, O Gods, cried he, is it not enough that Thomira is snatched from me, but she must needs learn me herself, that she is unworthy the grief that I resent for her.  
Here, my Lord, pursued he, turning towards my Master, receive I beseech you this Tablet, I will keep nothing that may reproach me with the faults of Thomira: Take this Ticket, which is addressed to you, and consider it as a thing that must cure your passion, and cause you to contemn a woman that is capable of making so free a declaration. Alas, my Lord, interrupted my Master, how do you treat the Princess Thomira? is it because she is criminal, or for that she hath some goodness for a Prince that adores her? and can you believe her too indulgent, having such goodness only in the time that I am remote from her? He uttered many passionate things of this sort, to which Edescon gave mitigating answers: And that which was most rare, was, that in returning to Castulon, Hannibal on the one side rendered thanks to the Princess, and was incensed against Lucius; while on the other side, Edescon showed himself in wrath against Thomira, and perfectly satisfied with the Prince of Celtiberia. Hannibal was not only enraged against Lucius, he did not altogether spare Alcon in his affliction; but demanded of him, if ever any thing was more unhandsome and offensive than the proceedings of Nadalia, who acted cruelly against him, after she had made semblance to do him good offices with the Princess of Castulon.  
Alas, my Lord, answered Alcon, all surprised and afflicted, I do not apprehend clearly in this affair; but in what manner soever it hath been carried, I cannot believe that Nadalia hath acted against you. To know this, interrupted Hannibal, you need only read the last words of my Princess, and there will be no reason to doubt of it, after such express terms, I should not withdraw myself from you, did not Lucius and Nadalia force me so to do.  
If Alcon was by these last words too much perplexed to answer, my Master was of a humour not to be easily silent in this occasion; insomuch, that he complained and threatened, till he was arrived at Castulon. He was no sooner in this City, but he immediately sent Discoverers into all places where his Princess could be imagined to have passed: Himself also took horse, to find news of her, and learned some the next morning of some persons who had seen Lucius, Thomira, and Nadalia, and two unknown men.  
My Master was informed, that the Prince of Celtiberia had embarked his fair Cousin upon the River Boetis to gain the Sea, and go seek in Italy some place of surety against the power of the Carthaginians. Upon which Love and Ambition conspiring together in the breast of Hannibal, this Prince suddenly chased away all his sadness, and expressed nothing but a noble impatience to go speedily into Italy, where Thomira and Glory seemed to attend him: Nevertheless, before he took orders for the affairs of Spain, he declared his design to the Prince Edescon, and protested to him a thousand times, That whereas he intended to go in search of the fair Princess of Castulon, it was not out of any hope to be received favourably by her, but only to draw her out of the hands of Lucius, and afterwards to restore her into those of the Prince Edescon. The Father of Thomira answered my Master, That he ought to have a design more glorious; and then entreated him, not to desolate Celtiberia, as he had resolved: which Hannibal accorded him, and had so great respect to him, that he restrained his rage in his presence against the Prince of Celtiberia.  
While these things passed at Castulon, Asdrubal Barsa arrived there: My Master embraced this Prince with very great tenderness; and when Asdrubal told him, that four Roman Ambassadors had denounced war against Carthage. We will carry it to Rome (interrupted he fiercely) and we shall see whether the Carthaginians know not as well how to manage it, as the Romans do to declare it. He said no more to this affair; but having presently ended the conversation, he went to contrive and order expediences for his voyage into Italy.  
T●● great Personage, who is as prudent a Captain, as he is a fierce and hardy Soldier, determined with an admirable conduct, to provide for the safety of Africa and Spain; and to that purpose, sent Thirty thousand Spaniards into Africa, to defend the most considerable places, and left a like number of Africans in Spain, to the end these two Country's might be better preserved by two Nations; who at the same time in both the one and the other, served both for Garrison and Hostage. Having ordered many other things, necessary for the conservation of a Country which he was to forsake; and leaving Asdrubal at new Carthage, he directed his course towards the Pyrenian Mountains, in the head of an Army of a hundred thousand foot, and twenty thousand horse, and a train of fifty Elephants.  
But being all the world speaks the victories of the famous Hannibal, and I am entered upon a story sufficiently well known; if you please, my Lords, to dispense with me, I shall forbear to particularise the Battles which my Master fought, and the Victories which he gained: Yet it is meet to tell you, that he brought to his obedience the Ilergetes, the Bargusins, and the Ausetanes; and having passed those high Mountains which separate Spain from the Gauls, he left Hanno the charge of all that Country, and to guard the passage of the Pyrenean Mountains, with twenty thousand foot, and four thousand horse. After which, he made new levies, to recruit that diminishment of his Army, and was eager of having such forces as might in appearance assure those Conquests he had made, from which he was obliged to be far distant.  
When we descended into the Country of the Gauls, my Master restrained all acts of Hostility; and sent Ambassadors to inform the Gauls, that he intended to march as a Traveller, and not as an Enemy; and that he was determined not to draw his sword, till he were arrived in Italy. Upon which he obtained a free passage; so that we marched as far as the Rhosne, in no other disturbance, then if we had marched in the Territories of our own Empire: But we found a powerful obstacle at the passage of this River; for Regulus not prevailing with the Turdetanes to rise against us, had passed into Gaul, to effect the like design there, hoping he should easily draw a Nation to take up Arms, who passionately affected fight.  
The Volcae, the Cavarians, with this Roman in the head of them, put themselves in a posture to dispute us the passage of the Rhosne: But Hannibal designed to overcome by a slight, lest the courage of the Gauls might be a means to withhold him from embarrassing Italy: Wherefore he made show that he would pass the Rhosne; and accordingly prepared a good number of boats, but in the mean time he sent Maharbal with five and twenty thousand men to ford it, at a Village where the Soanes discharges itself into this River.  
Ma●arbal having orders to come and charge the Gauls in the rear, performed all his Commission so happily, that the Volcaes, who were in readiness to repel us, finding themselves set upon by our boats, and charged by the Troops of Maharbal at the same moment, were so astonished with the surprise, that they betook themselves to flight, and left us masters of the field.  
Scarce was our Army landed on the other side the Rhosne, but we understood, that of the Romans was arrived at Marsilia, under the conduct of Publius Scipio, who you know was Father of that Scipio who hath done such glorious exploits in Africa, while my Master was absent. Hannibal sent a Numidian called Micipsa, with five hundred horse, to discover the Enemy, and continued his march directly towards the Alps; having no other design then to arrive speedily in Italy, both to see there his fair Princess, and to cast a greater terror into the spirits of the Romans, by fight them in their own Country. But alas, toward the end of the day, we beheld a part of our Scouts coming, who were retired in disorder, and seemed the most of them sorely battered and hurt. My Master soon informed himself exactly of all that had past; and it was told, that they were beaten back by the Scouts of the Romans, & ●hat they were retreated, after they had lost two hundred of their Companions, seen Micipsa cut in pieces, and themselves reduced into that estate as they appeared. I sent Micipsa (answered Hannibal) to discover the Enemy, not to fight him.  
Ah, my Lord (replied the Carthaginian that spoke to him) when you fully know this adventure, you will without doubt cease to accuse us, and perceive something so surprising in it, that you will impute the success we have had, rather to the good fortune of the Romans, then to any deficience or bad conduct of ours: For as soon (continued he) as we had sight of the Enemy's Scouts, we made a stand on both sides, the better to observe one another; so that Micipsa perceiving we had the advantage of number, and also judging that we were not inferior in valour to the Romans, resolutely charged them, thinking either to have the glory of carrying the first advantage in an important war; or to prevent the Enemies, whom he saw already upon the point to come up to us. The combat was at first furious and bloody, and when we had made our losses equal, and our forces were not so, the Romans were upon the point of flying; but on a sudden a cry was set up amongst them, O Gods! 'Tis the Son of the General! 'Tis young Scipio! These words, which were produced by a loud joy, mixed with admiration, were no sooner heard, but we beheld in the head of them a young Prince, who peradventure had not yet attained his fifteenth year: He was magnificently clothed, and advantageously mounted, but had no other arms then his sword & shield, so that we beheld and admired his countenance at the same moment. But, my Lord, if the aspect of this young Roman appeared to us on sudden marvellously noble, we soon felt that his arm was equally redoubtable: He slew Micipsa with the first blow of his sword he gave him; after which he broke upon us, with a valour so prodigious, that if I had never seen you fight, I should be hard of belief that it were possible for a man to do so great actions of prowess. In a word, my Lord, we endeavoured to make resistance, but ineffectually; and the Romans so redoubled their vigours, that after the slaughter of 200 of ours, they at length enforced us to secure ourselves by retreat. Hannibal was disgusted at this relation, and began to have esteem of the young Scipio, although he expressed no tokens of it, that he might not discourage his own Troops. From hence we marched onwards, always in a posture to receive the Romans, till we arrived at the banks of Durantia; where we had intelligence that Scipio was embarked. We passed this River with great difficulty, and as we were entering into the Frontiers of the Allobroges, two Brethren. who were at contest for sovereignty, came to the famous Prince of Carthage, whom they took for Judge of their difference. Hannibal heard all their reasons, and having equitably balanced them, he adjudged the Kingdom to the eldest, named Brancus; from whom he received all manner of assistance in his passage over the Alps. Matales King of the Burgundian gaul's, came to join his forces with my Masters; and these two Princes afforded us many supplies, both of provision, ammunition and clothing, of which we stood in great need, to defend us from the vehemency of the cold, which in these parts is in all seasons insupportable: upon this supply, our Soldiers were not slow to undertake the climbing of the Alps; which notwithstanding they no sooner looked upon, but they were surprised with terror, never any more frightful spectacle having been seen by us▪ for if on one side the Alps seemed inaccessible, their tops being covered with snow above the clouds, they appeared on the other as impenetrable, by presenting to our view a thousand dreadful rocks, which broke off the ways of our passage▪ and ended their course with precipices: yet this was not the only inconvenience we were to combat with; for these mountains were possessed by a savage and cruel people, who would dispute the way with us, and who indeed pestered us so violently, that we were constrained to creep to fight them. These Barbarians came in great troops, through by ways, to attaque us unawares; sometimes they fought with us at handiblows, but most frequently their use was, to roll great pieces of rock down, which overwhelmed and crushed our Soldiers, our horses, and our Elephants: nevertheless, our invincible Prince surmounted all these obstacles; he always avoided the first with covering himself with his shield, and causing his Soldiers to make a halt every moment to recover breath, and to use their arms offensive. But, my Lord, I beg your permission to omit this troublesome attempt; and come to tell you, that we arrived at length at the top of the Alps, nine days after we had began to mount them. Hannibal discovering from the highest of these mountains, a plain of great extent; turned himself towards his Soldiers, and showed them the towns, villages, meadows, and fruitful hills, with the pleasant rivers, and in short, the most pleasant Country of the world: Behold Italy (cried he, with an air of fierceness and joy) see it my dear friends, and consider, that 'tis in these fair places where you shall soon find the end of your labours, and the recompense of your travels. As soon as the Prince had pronounced these words, the infinite multitude which composed his Army, shouted out cries of joy to heaven, and we immediately remarked in the faces of our Soldiers something so gallant and confident, that we judged they had forgot their weariness and encumbrances, and that they had heart enough to overcome those which were behind, and they appeared worthy to march under the Grand Hannibal: wherefore we began 〈◊〉 descend with very much joy, which was notwithstanding accompanied with extreme pains; for instead of finding any tract to pass in, we soon beheld a great icy precipice, and to speak all in few words, I assure you, that during our passage of these mountains, we suffered much more in descending, than we did in our ascent. I shall forbear to mention that frightful Rock we met with, which was an obstacle apparently never to be surmounted; for without doubt you heard, that Hannibal was enforced to make his way through with fire and sword, and so making such places accessible, which were far from being so, he seemed to triumph over Nature, and hath left to posterity, the eternal marks of his grandeur. It is enough to say, that after six days spent in descending, at last we arrived in Cisalpine Gaul; and after so many fights, so many rivers past, and so many mountains climbed over, we began to breathe with some sweetness, and to recover the strength we had lost. But having brought the Prince of Carthage to these so much desired places, I think myself obliged to declare to you in the next place, the diligence he employed to know where the Princess of Castulon might be, and what forces the Romans led against him; yet I shall omit all but what concerns Hannibal and Thomira, as believing it not necessary to recount you the particularities of the War of Italy; since without doubt, the great Princes before whom I speak, cannot be ignorant of things which all the world talks of with astonishment. Ah, Aspar (interrupted the King of Syria) why should you break your order, to pass in silence the great actions of your Master? And can you (added Nicomedes) speak of Hannibal, without rehearsing his victories? The sick King, and the Prince Persens had the same desires, with Antiochus, and the Prince of Bythinia, but they did not express them, because they perceived Aspar about to resume his discourse, which he pursued in this manner.  
The end of the Second Book.    

The Grand SCIPIO.  
The First Part.  
BOOK III.  
HAnnibal was so passionately desirous of getting intelligence of his Princess Thomira, that to satisfy his ardency, he dispatched the most diligent persons that were about him to the places wherein probability Lucius might have taken sanctuary; himself in the mean time so successful, labouring to gain the amity of the people from whom he might receive supplies, that the Insubrians and Ligurians in a short time engaged to furnish their utmost. But he had not the same facility in procuring Alliance with a certain people situate at the foot of the Alps; so that after some fights, my Master resolved to lay siege to Turin, which is the capital City of this Country. This place was of considerable strength; but being it was Hannibal that was against it, it was carried within a few days, and within a few more, when we advanced towards the River Ticines, we learned that Publius Scipio was arrived at Pisa, with an Army which he had form of the remnant of that of Manlius, which was beaten by the Gauls. Our valiant Prince, who breathed after battle, was exreamly satisfied with this tidings; and knowing that a happy beginning presages a glorious continuance, he determined to speak to his Army, to excite them to acquit themselves manfully in the occasion which presented itself. We had scarce heard the news of Publius' making a Bridge over Ticines, to pass his Forces over to come at us, but the fierce Hannibal would prevent him; and to the end he might be courageously seconded, mounting upon a small hillock, from whence he might be seen, and heard, he delivered his mind to his Soldiers that encompassed him, in these words:  

The Speech of HANNIBAL to his Soldiers.  
MY Friends, your valour is so fully known to me, that I think I shall not surprise you, when I tell you the state of the case is this, either to die or conquer. You observe how we are environed with the Alps, the Po, and the two Seas: and I should say, we have no passage at all left us, did I not know that we are owners of our Swords, that shall hew out our ways, and give us passage over the bodies of those enemies that withstand it. It is necessary therefore that we either die or overcome: but why do I mention dying? there is nothing else to be done but to conquer; we must do it, and I look upon you already as Victors. Are not you those Troops which have won so many fields, taken so many Cities, and who triumphant over several Nations, have traversed a hundred Provinces, without being able to be stopped? If you are the same Legions, who shall resist us? shall the refuse of an Army which the Gauls have beaten to your hand? and can you believe this rallied crew have heart enough to stand you? These, I say, who carry with them in all places the fatal Image of their defeat, will they not tremble at your approach? Behold, my friends, the difference there is between yourselves, and the forces you are going to engage; and I believe it sufficient to tell you, that you are going to charge them, to affirm in the next place that you are going to vanquish them; since strength and generosity are apparent in the attaque, as in the defence, nothing can be seen but a feeble resistance, such a resistance as is not made of course, but only because there is a constraint to to do it. Having thus shown you the advantages you have over your enemies, I should come next to the difference there is between the two Generals, but that I rather reserve this particular to be determined in the encounter. Nevertheless I may confidently say, that Scipio, how valiant soever he be, cannot infuse life and resolution into Soldiers that yet know him not; as these Troops which are known to him only by their defeat, cannot afford him any hope. But Hannibal, under whom you march, hath been a thousand times witness of your brave actions. He hath beheld you a hundred times at a breach, and hath there seen you fight with such valour, that you have carried all the Cities and Fortresses which you ever attempted: & how many times hath he seen you all covered with blood & dust, bear down the whole Gross of your enemies, & gain most absolute battles? so that, my friends, I know you well, because I know you most valiant; and I see already upon your faces, that you will behave yourselves as you have accustomed to do, that is, that you will overcome. Besides, have you not the same Hannibal in the head of you, under whom you have always come off victorious; that Hannibal, who instead of being unknown to you, as Scipio is to his Forces, hath been bred up amongst you from the ninth year of his age, as your companion, rather than as your Prince? that Hannibal, whom you have seen fight under the great Amilcar; In a word, that Hannibal, whom you have beheld perform things which without question have deserved your remembrance. Let us then go Conquer, my friends; let us march on to Victory, and think not the recompense which attends you is mean, because your enemies are but little formidable; we shall recover Scicilia and Sardinia, which the Romans have usurped from us; we shall gain Italy itself, and the conquest of Rome shall be followed with that of the Universe. But though you should not expect a reward of this importance, yet ought you not to go against your Tyrants, who have made you pay Tribute during several years, who have usurped two fair Islands from you, who have demanded your General to be delivered up to them as a criminal, because he has been too valiant to put up their indignities? and, in a word, ought you not to go against such enemies as treat you like slaves, who would bond your Conquests in Spain, and forbid you to pass the River Iberus? Moreover, were not revenge the most delicious thing in the world, yet ought not you to act for glory? It glitters before your eyes, & you may behold how it courts and invites you. Let us on then, my friends, let us go and receive the Crowns which she hath prepared us.   

This speech produced the effect for which Hannibal intended it, and all the Officers and Soldiers testified their resolvedness, either to overcome or die; and so eagerly expressed their desires to be at fight; that our valiant General improving this noble heat, put himself in the head of them, and marched directly against the enemy, who by this time had passed the River. But to hinder lest the people inhabiting there abouts, should take the side of Scipio, my Master commanded out Maharbal with four thousand Horse to harrase and waste the Country of his confederates; by which he struck a great terror round about, and broke the design of divers who had bethought of siding with the enemy. But both parties being ardently desirous to engage, there was no great delay before we met; so that the two Armies being within view, Hannibal omitted nothing for the marshalling of his Legions, of all that lies upon an experienced General to do. After which, he went from rank to rank, commending some, and promising others, and so caressed the Officers, that he perceived their ardour inflamed to the highest pitch of forwardness, and greatly ominous to the event. But it must be acknowledged, that it was not to no purpose that my Master used all this diligence, since he was to fight against Publius Scipio, who in truth, had all the requisites of a great Captain. The fight which was soon commenced, was a long time obstinate on both sides, and the victory very dubious; but Maharbal on a sudden (according to the order he had re-received so to do) coming to charge the Legionaries in the flank, the enemies were put into disorder, and my valiant Master made so good use of it, that the Romans began to abate their vigour, and to make only a faint resistance. Publius' not being able to endure this change, road up to the head of his men, to animate them by his example; but he was soon forsaken; so that after he had behaved himself with much gallantry and courage, he was at last wounded and made prisoner. You know, without doubt, my Lords, in what manner he was rescued out of our hands; and you cannot but have heard related of all that the young Scipio performed in this engagement. I do not believe (said Antiochus thereupon) that these Princes can be ignorant of it, since myself; being far more remote from Italy, have understood the news of it, and afterwards heard that all the world talked of it with admiration. Aspar observing that his Auditor by their silence approved that which the King of Syria had said, resumed his discourse in this manner. Seeing you have known all the young Scipio did at this time great and memorable, and in what sort he delivered his Father, there remains nothing more for me to acquaint you with touching this fight, but only that the Illustrious Hannibal sought along time for the Scipio's and Regulus, whom he was informed was in the enemy's Army, and so well redoubled his efforts, that doing all that the most valiant man could do, he became at length victorious. For the Romans not being able to sustain his prowess, and no longer animated by the young Scipio, who was taken up in the recovering of his Father, they resolved at length to retreat; which they did within a little while, in order enough, although they had lost ten or twelve thousand men, and left us complete Masters of the Field.  
My Master wanted no reason to be extremely satisfied with this happy beginning; but as there is something which never disposes events without the mixture of good and evil; this Prince was enforced to sigh after his Victory, and to think upon Thomira, instead of considering with delight the defeat of his enemies. For, while the Romans were drawing out of the Field, those who had been ordered to get information of the Princess of Castulon, returned with no other tidings to Hannibal, then that they could hear none of her, although they had inquired in the Ports of Liguria, of the Tyrrhene Sea, and Sicily, and used all care and search at Pisa, Rome, and Capua. Alas, Lucius! (cried the passionate Prince of Carthage) thou imployest that life and liberty which I have given thee to tear forth my heart! Ah, Traitor, unworthy to wear the name of a Prince, didst thou promise me thy friendship for no other end but to have means to betray me? and must I be rendered unhappy by thee, when I triumph over all? And, you, fair Princess! adorable Thomira! consider, I beseech you, the torment your absence causes the miserable Hannibal to suffer; and being Lucius hath had the presumption to act contrary to your sentiments, be pleased to be incensed against him, divine Princess, that so he may be punished for his crime, and Hannibal who adores you, receive this kind of consolation. The Prince uttered a hundred passionate things more, and afterwards made a hundred demands; but recollecting all that he either said or did to be unprofitable. Well, Thomira (said he at length) I cannot learn where you are, but I shall extend my Conquests so far, that it shall be difficult for Lucius to find a sanctuary: even all the Earth shall be employed to take you out of his hands, when it shall know that Hannibal seeks the fairest person of the world, and your divine aspect shall manifest you to be the person whom Hannibal seeks.  
After these words, the Prince, to effect things according to the order he had deliberated, went to provide for his advancing into the enemy's Country; which as he was doing, he received intelligence that Sempronius had left Sicily, and was coming with his Army to supply the place of Scipio, who was obliged to depart from Italy, to go and command in Spain. I need not tell you in what manner Hannibal and Sempronius met, or how they encountered; only thus much, that this valiant Roman was overthrown near Trebra, and that nevertheless by his good conduct, he preserved ten thousand men of his Army. In the mean time Servilius and Flaminius were created Consuls at Rome, and the Commission of managing the War against Hannibal falling to Flaminius, and this fierce Consul being hardy to temerity, he presently put himself in the head of his Army, and without regard to a thousand prodigies which threatened him with the loss of himself and his forces, he advanced in great precipitation to come and fight us. My Master used extreme diligence to encounter him, and to draw near to Rome; but being arrived at a certain passage, which is between the Lake of Thrasimene and a Mountain; he possessed himself of all the advantageous places, and encamping on this side the straits, sent to waste the Country about, to the end the cries of the people might speedily alarm Flaminius to their succour, and cause him to come to the passage of the Lake.  
Flaminius came thither in the same manner my Master had foreseen; where having engaged his Army between the Lake and the Mountain, he saw himself charged at an instant on so many sides, that all his Troops were defeated, and himself lost his life for having fought with too much valour. Then it was that there was a great consternation in Rome, and that sorrow produced there the strange effects, of which you have without doubt been informed, and that in this disorder they were constrained to create a Dictator, to the end he might provide for the affairs of the Commonwealth, and undertake the sovereign administration of it. During this while, Joy and Confidence were the only passions which animated our Soldiers. Nevertheless my Master intending to take Spoletta in his way to the siege of Rome, he met with so great resistance from the place, that he deemed it more consequent to raise the siege, and go and fight the Romans, who employed their utmost efforts to deliver their Country from extreme desolation. Fabius, who was the person created Dictator, took the Field with all the force that he could gather; and when we learned that the Scipios made great progresses in Spain, and that Servilius and Regulus (who had succeeded Flaminius) came to join their Troops to those of the Dictator: my Master, to hinder this Union, advanced against Fabius with an extreme diligence. But it must be confessed that the Romans found their Hannibal in Fabius, as my Master himself acknowledged. For this prudent Dictator fought us after a new rate; and being assured he had to do with a man extremely valiant, a perpetual Victor, and one who drives at the end of the War, he laid his design to overcome without fight him. In effect the wise Fabius saw himself environed with Romans, or confederates of the Romans, while we were in the middle of our enemies, and could hope no assistance nor supplies either in Money or Munitions, and that we were constrained to go forth every day to forage for subsistence. Wherefore he seized on all the fortresses by which he might hinder our course, to the end hunger might in a short time do that against Hannibal, which all the forces of Italy could not. My Master, whose interest it was, as much to fight, as that of Fabius to detract it, attempted all possible means to draw his enemy to battle. He carried himself even to give out dishonourable speeches of Fabius, and put himself in the head of ten thousand Horse to defy him several times: but the Dictator never quitted his resolution to hold off, and gently admonished Minutius who would have engaged, that the Romans were as much concerned to avoid battle, as Hannibal was obliged to give it. Whereby this conduct of Fabius reduced us to a strange extremity; for Corn failing us, and our Camp being blocked up by the Romans, Hannibal had the displeasure to hear his Soldier's murmur against him, and then to consider that his whole Army was in danger to perish miserably. But as this famous Captain was not less great imprudence then in valour, he served himself of a stratagem which posterity will hereafter admire, and which I cannot wholly pass over in silence, although it hath filled the whole Earth with talk.  
I doubt not, my Lords, but you have heard that Hannibal always used to cause good store of Oxen to be kept continually in his Army, for its support, and so you will not wonder when I tell you, that we had at this time two thousand in our Camp; whereupon my Master caused branches of Trees extraordinarily dry, to be fastened to the horns of these beasts in a very dark night, to which setting fire, he made the Oxen be driven against the Corpse du Guard of the enemy. The Romans were suddenly affrighted with the number of fires which they beheld moving towards them, being ignorant what they might be; but they were by and by far more terrified when the Oxen became enraged by the violence of the fire; broke in upon them, and besides the prodigious outrages they made, filled the hills with dreadful bellow, Hannibal in the head of the most expedite of his Troops, followed these formidable Vancouriers, as I may call them, and accomplishing by his valour what his prudence had so fortunately began, he opened a free passage to the rest of his Army. Fabius and Minutius about the break of day recollecting themselves from their astonishment, attempted upon our Rear, but they were soon constrained to retreat: for my Master, who was not wanting in any place where his presence was necessary, immediately accurred with a considerable re-enforcement. After this happy success, we carried the Town of Grenia in Apulia, where we found Corn and all sort of refreshment, and learned there that Fabius and Minutius did not accord well together, and that the first was accused of too much slowness. Hannibal to divide them yet more, and to render this slowness suspected, sent to pillage all the brave Houses of the Romans in Apulia, with prohibition from meddling with those of Fabius, to beget belief in the enemies that they corresponded one with another secretly, and that out of this only consideration, the Dictator had forborn to accept battle.  
This deportment of my Master so much confirmed the party of Minu●●us, that he was by authority of the Senate equalled in power with Fabius; upon which this impatient Roman came to attaque us with the Gross of his Army, which without doubt would have been utterly defeated, had not Fabius hastened to his aid, to secure his retreat. But, my Lords, being I have hitherto observed no difference of time to avoid your trouble, it may be permitted me to relate to you, with semblable liberty, the memorable and glorious day at Cannae▪ where the Romans beheld all their Forces defeated, under the conduct of the unfortunate and generous Aemilius, and that of the precipitous Varro. No●, but the enemies were valiant▪ and likewise stronger in number; but it must be confessed, that the great courage and excellent management of my Master out-ballanced the inequality, and won us that renowned Victory. For one of our principal Officers, named Giscon, understanding the prodigious numerousness of the Roman Army that came to fight us, appeared wholly astonished at the conjuncture: But, my Master, instead of abating his fierceness, was remarked to have more alacrity and gaiety than he was wont to have, after the loss of his Princess: wherefore he immediately went to Horse, and being followed by the greatest part of his Officers, possessed himself of a little rising place, whence he discovered the two Consul's Armies, which were lately united to come up against him. Hannibal viewed all this conjoined multitude attentively; but all those that were with him expressed some kind of real admiration and astonishment, so that Giscon addressing to him: Well, my Lord (said he) do you not observe that the number and strength of our enemies is as great as I represented it to you? It is true (answered my Master) but I also observe a wonder, which you take no notice of: 'Tis (proceeded he smiling) that in the great multitude of men which we behold, there is not so much as one of your name of Giscon.  
This answer caused all that heard it to take heart, and being afterwards spread abroad in the Army, it was hoped that Hannibal would be as invincible, as he appeared immovable by sporting at the sight of so many enemies; and it was believed impossible not to conquer under the leading of so grand a personage. The success evinced that it was not without reason their hopes were conceived. For Hannibal this day performed all that the greatest Captain could do, and might be expected from the most valiant Soldier. Yet I shall omit to describe to you the ordering of the Armies, since undoubtedly you know that Hannibal marshaled his in such sort, that the Romans were inconvenienced by the Sun, the Wind, and the Dust. I shall only tell you, that my Master would this day himself command the main battalia, that he might be opposed to Aemilius, whom he knew to be the most excellent Captain of the Romans; and that this Illustrious Carthaginian was in great danger of perishing this day, which was the most glorious of his life. For this fierce Prince being far engaged in the Army of the enemies, to find out Aemilius or the young Scipio, whom he knew to be returned from Spain, was on a sudden wholly abandoned by his own; and Aemilius being wounded about this time, the Voluntaries that fought near his person, alighted to succour him, and likewise many others doing so too, my Master found himself plunged in the thickest rout of them, so that after a thousand brave deeds, he was upon the point of ●ailing: but as he was in the midst of danger, enclosed with abundance of enemies, Ducarion, who commanded the Insubrians and the Ligurians of our Army, ran into his help with a Cavalier which we did not then know, but whom we soon perceived to be one of the most valiant men of the world. For he exploited so manful actions, that notwithstanding two or three wounds falling on him, he got close up to my Master, and there fought on with singular vigour and spirit. But instead of reciting to you all that our valiant General did afterwards, I conceive it not requisite to speak of the particularities of this battle, being it is enough to acquaint you that we engaged in it at Cannae, to let you judge what importance the victory was which Hannibal won, and how deplorably desperate the loss was our enemies suffered there: for it is certain that they lost betvveen sixty & eighty thousand men that Emilius & Servilius were slain, that Regulus was mortally wounded, and that there perished such a number of persons of quality, that my Master sent the Senate of Carthage a large Vessel of pure Gold, filled with the Rings drawn from the fingers of the Roman Knights, which we found dead upon the place. Then it was that the pride of Rome was abated, and that our enemies looked upon themselves as absolutely overthrown beyond recovery; and that in our Army amongst a thousand cries of joy, our Soldiers were heard cry out fiercely in the height of their Victory, Away, Let us to Rome, Rome is our own. Hannibal was ravished with joy, when he heard his Soldiers of themselves demanding to go whether he was minded to lead ●hem. So that having resolved upon the siege of Rome, he designed not to defer it long, and only to afford his Forces a few days for their repose and refection; but being in need himself of that, whereof he was careful in the behalf of others, he caused his Armour to be unbraced, and two or three wounds he had received to be dressed, which we had the contentment to see were but slight, and that this Illustrious Prince had not purchased the memorable field of Cannae at too great a price. Yet he was obliged to take his bed by order of the Chirurgeons, where instead of taking the quiet they believed he should find, he caused me to be called, to discourse to me of the state of his Affairs. And well, Aspar (said he to me) with a fierceness mixed with somewhat of disturbance and melancholy) you see me Master of Italy, and I shall within few days give Laws to the Romans; you see me vanquisher of my enemies; but alas! Aspar, you also see me absent from my Princess: what joy would mine be (continued he) if I could carry Thomira triumphing to Rome? what could I imagine wanting to my felicity, were it possible for me to establish the Throne of this Princess in the Capitol, and from thence cause her to behold all the Nations of the Earth subject to their Sovereignty. But the Traitor Lucius puts an obstacle to this felicity, which the Romans could not do; he deprives me of Thomira, and that false man makes me in a lost condition, when my Victories seem to present me with the possession and rule of the whole world▪ It is true (added he with a transport) that I shall find vengeance for him, and have the pleasure of punishing him for his crime, without the displeasure of Thomira, since he hath committed it against the sentiments of that adorable Princess. For (continued he) didst not thou see, Aspar, the B●llet which Thomira left in the wood of Castulon? and didst thou not observe in it these obliging words? (I was inclinable to satisfy you; and I might even tell you, were it not boldness, that it was with less repugnance than a person of my sex ought apparently to have in such a case. If these words, Aspar, oblige me to render a thousand thanks to my Princess; do not these other give me all manner of cause to hate Lucius, and to pursue him to the utmost? (I should not absent myself from you, if Lucius and Nadalia did not force me so to do.) Yes perfidious Lucius (cried he) I will hate thee, and pursue thee to the death; and this Hannibal, who hath defeated all the forces of Rome, shall soon dispatch a Traitor, and cause him to pay his blood for the expiation of his crime.  
I should never end, my Lords, if I should go about to repeat all the words of this passionate Prince: It is enough that you know, that he rendered a thousand thanks to Thomira, and as often broke forth into fury against the Prince of Celtiberia. He likewise passed the night with inquietude, which followed the most glorious day of his life; and while all the world rejoiced in his Army, he did nothing but revolve in his mind, what means he might use to find Thomira, so much was this Prince's love at this time above his ambition.  
The next morning Maharbal, Adherbal, Giscon, and divers other considerable Officers, came to his scent; where having discoursed of very many particularities of the victory of the Carthaginians, they fell to speak of the persons of condition which had been slain or wounded in the battle: The number of them was found not to be great, and my Master being sufficiently informed thereof, he demanded news of Magar, of whom he had a particular esteem, and whom he had not seen since the fight.  
Magar is safe (answered Maharbal) and I assure you, my Lord, that he came off with you, and that he would have made one in the honour which we now receive, if a Soldier had not come to tell him somewhat in private; which he did with such eagerness, as gave us to think it is a thing of no small importance. But, my Lord, besides the persons we have hitherto spoken of, there is yet a Cavalier, whose name I could not exactly know, who is dangerously wounded, and who, I am told, fought yesterday very valiantly with Ducarion, in the head of the Insubrians. Alas, Maharbal (answered my Master) I beheld this Cavalier fight myself; I saw him do a hundred brav● deeds, and without doubt he is the same Cavalier, who contributed very much to disengage me from amongst the Enemies: So that I am obliged (continued he) both out of acknowledgement and esteem of his virtue, to go visit him, and offer him every thing that I shall judge reasonable, when I know him.  
After these words, Hannibal caused himself to be made ready, being impatient of his bed, and conceiving he was in condition enough to leave his chamber, went to the quarters of the Insubrians, whither Maharbal, Adherbal, and myself attended him.  
He did not find Ducarion in his Tent; but being entered into that of the Cavalier he designed to visit, he was so strangely surprised as soon as he cast his eye upon his countenance, that it is impossible for me to express this rancounter: For he persisted a while, as it were, unmoveable, and by and by giving himself up wholly to his choler: Ah, Traitor (cried he) thou shalt die, and thou shalt never find pardon, notwithstanding thou hast served in my Army.  
These words of my Master, joined with his amazement, increased our curiosity; upon which, drawing near by degrees, we were astonished in our turns also, to find that this wounded Cavalier was the Prince of Celtiberia. In the mean time, Hannibal was perplexed with a thousand tumultuous thoughts: He threatened Lucius, he demanded of him where the Princess of Castulon was; and uttered if I (may dare to say it) a thousand different things at the same time. Perfidious man (said he to him, with a menacing tone) you are he that hath taken Thomira from me, but you shall either die, or tell me where she is.  
The names of Traitor and Perfidious much surprise me (answered Lucius) although they are given by a man blinded with the violence of his passion: But to pass by these words (added he, with a constancy that seemed to us very fierce and noble) I shall tell thee, O Hannibal, that I have carried the Princess of Castulon away from thee; and if it be so, that I must either die, or tell you where she is, I readily disclaim my life.  
This answer touched my Master to the quick; but being unwilling to do any thing ignoble, he endeavoured to calm his passions: And then beholding Lucius with a constraint upon himself; I know well (said he) that you understand to bear yourself generously, and I have already seen that you know how to seem resolute; but I shall also soon learn, if when you are not in the condition I now see you in, you will be able to retain this firmness of spirit.  
He went forth upon these words, feeling his passion increase against the force he used to repress it in his breast; and giving order to guard Lucius carefully, took the way to his own quarters, and retired into his Tent; into which he was no sooner entered, but he looked upon us with an air that spoke his wonder: And turning on a sudden to Maharbal; Must you not confess (said he to him) that you never saw any thing so surprising and intricate, as what we now came from? For at such time as I accounted Lucius my Enemy, he fought for me; and when I went to visit a Cavalier to whom I had an obligation, I found my Enemy in the person of this Cavalier; but a cruel Enemy, an Enemy that speaks with boldness to me of the crime which he hath committed against me, and outdares my choler, when it lightens but with justice. It is true (added he fiercely) he hath happened on the only means there is to brave Hannibal with impunity; and Lucius unarmed, wounded, and in bed, may do the things the greatest forces of Europe have not been able to do to this hour. But that Lucius, who can do all this by his weakness, will not be always in the condition I have left him in; and perhaps I may be allowed to revenge myself not dishonourably, and fight with an Enemy, with whom notwithstanding, many other persons would be revenged in another manner: Yes, Maharbal (continued he) I will fight with Lucius, I will employ nothing but my own arm to the punishment of this treacherous person; and methinks I have already overcome him, and constrained him to tell me where the fair Princess of Castulon is.  
I do not fully understand this adventure, my Lord (answered Maharbal) yet I believe, if Lucius answered you in a manner which displeased you, it was because you first treated him with the titles of Perfidious and Criminal; for in that he hath fought for you, it is an evidence to evince him not your Enemy. Ah, Maharbal (interrupted he) its an evidence to evince the contrary: Hath he not carried away Thomira from me? and if chance hath occasioned my seeing him in my Army, did he not at first behold me with as great indignation, as he could have shown, had I committed a crime more heinous than himself is guilty of? So that I perceive, Maharbal, you did not at first observe the countenance of Lucius, seeing you wonder that I suffered myself to be so transported against him.  
It is true, he fought for me, but undoubtedly something we cannot conjecture, engaged him in my Army: Nevertheless, I will grant that it was only for my interests he fought, and moreover, that he preserved my life; yet do not you understand, Maharbal, that he hath done more against me in carrying away the Princess of Castulon, than he could do for me in preserving the Prince of Carthage; since ●ife is no other than a punishment to me, when I pass it absent from that adorable Princess; and that I am obliged and offended far more sensibly in the person of Thomira, then in that of Hannibal.  
As this passionate Prince had ended these words, Magar entered into his Tent, and that with a countenance so satisfied, that we presaged good tidings from him. As soon as he had made his reverence to my Master, he presented the Guard of a Sword to him enriched with Diamonds, which we instantly known to be the same I have formerly mentioned to you, and which I told you, was first owned by the Prince of Carthage, and afterwards by him of Celtiberia. Hannibal beheld this rich Guard, without signifying any wonder at it, because he had already seen Lucius, who he believed had lost it. Upon which Magar began to speak; I perceive, my Lord (said he) that because you come from seeing Lucius, you regard not with joy that which I offer to you; but I think not but you will be surprised, when you are informed where the Princess of Castulon is, and learn— Ah, Magar (interrupted Hannibal) tell me in what place that Divine Princess may be found.  
There are so many other things to tell you (replied he) that without giving me time to hearken to them, that I defer not your satisfaction, I am come immediately to conduct you to the Tent of a Gaul, where you will be told so amazing passage, as you would unquestionably be backward to believe, if you should understand them from any other mouth than his, that is most fit to recount you them.  
Let us go then, Magar (interrupted he further) let us go (said he) and without word more, went presently out of his Tent, directly to the quarter of the Gauls. Although Hannibal was wounded, yet we followed without presuming to tell him, that he was negligent of himself, because this Prince was so passionately bend to whatsoever he willed, that we should undoubtedly have spoken to no purpose; besides that indeed, the quarters of the Gauls was not far distant from the place where we were; and that my Master was then to receive such intelligence as much imported the repose of his life. So we soon entered the Tent to which Magar invited us; and the Master of it having done the ceremonies of the greatest honour, conducted the Prince of Carthage towards a bed, wherein a wounded person lay. As soon as the man saw my Master, he sighed, and then addressing his speech to this Illustrious Prince Ah, my Lord, (said he) how can you endure the sight of a man that: hath betrayed you; that hath laboured to render you unhappy, and in brief, done his utmost to deprive you of the Princess of Castulon? I shall suffer your sight (interrupted Hannibal impatiently) and shall pardon you also, provided that you confess ingeniously, and tell me where I may go see the Princess Thomira. You do me too great a favour, My Lord (replied the wounded man! and I protest to you, that I shall immediately acknowledge it by my sincerity, and tell you without disguisement who I am, and what I have done. Know then, my Lord, that people call me Malarcon, that I was born in the City of Hispalis, and that I was possessed with an unsatiable appetite of heaping up wealth, which I sought to obtain by all means imaginable; so that I likewise practised such as were most unlawful, as often as I found they were most profitable. Wherefore, my Lord, you will not wonder when I shall tell you all that I have done; and if it be true that the passions find their excuse in their violence, you will even have the goodness to forgive me, seeing I have been carried to them by an ardent desire of Riches, but such a desire as was unsatiable and overswaied all other considerations. I did not continue in long suspense what side to take during the war of Spain, immediately betaking myself to your Army; and without regarding that it was against the Spaniards you were to fight, I only considered that it was the Spaniards that were to be plundered and pillaged. To this end I would have a Protector, & chose Alorca for the person, to whom I rendered so many little services and diligences, that I drew his amity insensibly with his trust; so that Alorca being become desperately enamoured of the Princess of Cast●lon at Saguntum, he quickly communicated the secret to me, with the regret he had of having the most redoubted Rival in the world.  
How? (interrupted Hannibal in great wonder) was Alorca desperately amorous of the Princess of Castulon at Saguntum? He was so most certainly, my Lord (answered he) and I have been in great astonishment a hundred times, that you never took notice of the flame, which very many began to observe. But, my Lord, I crave the favour of your attention to the sequel of my discourse, and you shall understand things that will surprise you much more.  
Ah, Malarcon (interrupted my Master again) may I believe that Alorca dared love in the same place with Hannibal? But proceed (added he) and that without fear of my interrupting you. When the passion of Alorca increased his violence every day (replied Malarcon) he declared it to me constantly, but in such terms as was not possible for one to use, that is not possessed by the same passion that suggested them to him. So that this passionate man beholding with a strange despite all that you did at Sag●ntum for the Princess Thomira, he endeavoured to act for Attanes, and injure you, and considering that King as your Rival rather than his own, he went to him and assured him of all manner of assistance.  
Attanes, who observed with what heat Alorca spoke to him, easily gave credit to that which he said: he accepted his offers, and then making him a thousand remerciments, discovered to him at length the secret of his passion. He told him that he had caused Edescon to be carried away, but it was in so obliging a manner, that he expected any thing from that Prince; upon which Alorca departed from the King of the Turdetanes with almost as great regret as what he had heard him say, as that which he see you do every day. But, my Lord, without particularising all that Alorca told me, all that he did and suffered at Saguntum, in the voyage from Saguntum to Castulon, and also after his arrival in that City, which was afterwards so fatal to him, it suffices to let you know, that he almost lost all heart when the people of Castulon began to repine against their Princess for not giving you her speedy consent, and that his regrets redoubled when it was rumoured abroad that she had given it to you. This excited him to design a thousand ways to break off your Marriage; which soon after rejecting as ineffectual, he bethought himself at length of employing the affection of Attanes against yours in this occasion. He therefore took me into his Cabinet, and beholding me a while with unsettled looks, Ah, Malarcon! (said he) I am lost; and I must either kill Hannibal this day, or hinder him from marrying Thomira. I counsel you (answered I to him in great amazement at his words) to effect your second resolution rather than to kill the Prince of Carthage. It is requisite then (interrupted he instantly) that you serve me in the business, and that without loss of time you depart from Castulon, and speed away to the King of the Turdetanes.  
Then, Malarcon (proceeded) Attanes shall no sooner have learned the news that I write him, and you relate him with all the circumstances, but he shall make work with Edescon in such manner, that that Prince shall denounce to Thomira that he in no wise consents that she marry with a Carthaginian; and the Princess of Castulon being a Lady of very great virtue, will without doubt do nothing contrary to the will of the Prince her Father. This discourse of Alorca perplexed me very much, and I could not see at first how the affair could possibly succeed. But, my Lord, I am constrained to confess to my shame, that a Casket stored with Money and Jewels, persuaded me more powerfully than all the beseechings of Alorca. Wherefore I left Castulon, and used the greatest diligence I could; and, as if the presence of Alorca had opened my eyes and my understanding, or rather being encouraged by it to hope another from the King of the Turdetanes, I did much more than my instructions impowered me to do. Yet it is not necessary, my Lord, to relate to you the effect of my negotiation, being I know you saw the Letter at Castulon, which I brought thither from the Prince of the Saguntines; but I now come to discover to you my great crime in explicating that of Alorca. You remember, without question, my Lord, that the last time you saw the Princess Thomira, you departed from her unsatisfied, and left her after a manner not ordinary with you; upon which Alorca took hopes that then was the time he might supplant you. But understanding the next morning that you were gone from Castulon with design to take Edescon out of the hands of Attanes, he conceived all his hopes ruined, and that he was no longer able to obstruct your pretensions. Nevertheless, for all this, his love and his jealousy grew to so great excess, that seeing all was lost for him, he resolved to hazard all; and served himself of a means which was not less violent than the passions which inspired it, and this without considering into what strange extremities he rushed. He lead me forth to walk in a solitary place, to discover me his design, and having prepared my mind by protesting the violence of his love, and the greatness of the presents he would make me, he told me he had devised a way to cause an immortal hatred in Thomira against Hannibal, and to render Alorca inseparable from that fair Princess. But, Malarcon (continued he) to show you that there will not be much difficulty in bringing to pass this design, which at first will surprise you, you need but consider that Hannibal is a Carthaginian, and consequently forward to love, but inconstant to what he affects, and faithless in all things.  
You must also consider that Hannibal is the most ambitious of men, and so you will soon judge that its easy for his ambition to ruin his love, especially in the absence of the person beloved: But, Malarcon, the Princess Thomira will readily give credit to all that I shall tell her; and although all I shall tell her of Hannibal, should not be sufficient to persuade her, yet how can she imagine that Alorca intends at the same time to deceive both Hannibal & Thomira? Alorca, I say, who hath great obligations both to the one and the other; and what appearance is there that Thomira, who knoweth not the passion I have for her in my soul, should question the uprightness of my relation, especially when I shall offer to quit the advancement I have in Spain to follow her fortune: and, in a word, when she shall see all that I do for her service, without imagining the aim of my actions. This discourse (continued the wounded person) gave me suspicion that Alorca had plotted some treachery against you, my Lord, and the Princess of Castulon. But I could not comprehend by what way he designed to betray you, till, presenting me a Letter, Here (said he) see the means to effect my design; and being the Character of Hannibal, is neither known to Thomira or Lucius, behold that which must bestead me in drawing this fair Princess out of the power of my Rival, and to cause the Prince of Celtiberia to be arrested, who is the only person that can discover and destroy my enterprise. Ending these words, he put the Letter I spoke of into my hands, in which I found something so astonishing, that having in an instant read it over more than once, I retained all the sense, and near upon the very words, which were to this effect.  
HANNIBAL to ALORCA.  
YOu have beheld me sighing for Thomira; and you have also observed, that I have neglected the design I took up of extending my Conquests every where, to shut myself in one City of Spain, and therein to spend a life unworthy and unconformable to the birth and heart of Hannibal. But know Alorca, that by departing from Castulon, I have understood the weakness I committed there, and thereupon have enforced myself to become absolutely disengaged from a lowness, which without doubt all Posterity would have reproached me with. Wherefore being willing to reassume a glorious life, and continue my Conquests, I enjoin you, in order to that of Celtiberia, to secure the person of Lucius. But this is not all, Alorca; I must carry my effort yet further, and resolve to depend on no person alive. I will have no more obstacles to my Glory; and seeing Thomira alone is capable of having dominion over Hannibal, and that she only can break all my designs and enterprises, I appoint you to sacrifice her to my glory, and to my quiet▪ Wonder not, Alorca, at the order which I give you; for we oftentimes triumph not but with the loss of a hundred thousand men; consider that Hannibal may be well allowed to purchase with the loss of one Virgin, the most imporportant victory he can wish. But for that all the world judges not of things in their true value, and few men's minds are elevated above the sentiments of the vulgar, it is requisite that you act with prudence and fairness instead of employing open force; and for these services you may hereafter expect all manner of recompense from Hannibal. For in removing the occasions of his weakness, you will confirm the foundations of his glory.  
HANNIBAL▪   

Ah, Alorca! (cried my Master) perfidious Alorca! why is it that thou hast put off the condition which subjected thee to the sufferance of all the punishments which thy crime deserves? After which the Prince turning towards Malarcon, commanded him to go on with his discourse, which he did in these terms. This pernicious Letter did but too well produce its effect, my Lord: for as soon as Alorca had shown it to six men, whom he intended to use in this occasion, they promised to obey him to the utmost. Wherefore this desperate Lover leading Lucius out to walk towards the River Boetis, and inviting him into a house upon the bank thereof, caused him to be arrested by the six men I spoke of, who presently zeised his sword, and afterwards performed all that had been appointed them.  
I stayed in this house, to command in it what was fit, vvhilst Alorca went to court Thomira to go and walk in the Wood of Castulon, whither she was want to resort, without other company than that of Nadalia, and a few persons necessary to attend on her. At this time Alorca beseeching the Princess to cause all her Attendants to proceed no further than the entrance of the Wood, except Nadalia: He no sooner see himself alone with these two fair Ladies, but he cast himself at the feet of Thomira (as I was afterwards told) and having prepared the mind of that admirable Princess, by divers changes of his countenance, and a certain rapture which I cannot express: Alas, Madam (said he to her) that I should ever be obliged to tell you the most detestable Crime that can be imagined! I believe Alorca so little capable of commiting it (answered the Princess, with a most charming sweetness) that I wonder at the changes that appear in you. You have reason, Madam (replied he) to believe as you do: But if you knew the crime I am commanded to perpetrate, you would yet judge me more unfit for it then any other. At these words the Princess and Nadalia were very much surprised, not being able to imagine who could command Alorca to do any thing, especially of the nature of that he spoke of. But Alorca soon drew them from this surprise, to cast them into a greater: For addressing to the Princess, I must therefore, Madam, speak more clearly to you, and represent Hannibal to you such as he truly is.  
Ah, Alorca (interrupted the Princess, being provoked by this discourse) how do you speak of a great Prince, and of a Prince which hath none but illustrious qualities, and to whom we have so great obligations? You will soon see, Madam (replied he) how Hannibal defaces all these obligations, with the Order he hath lately sent me; and if that Cathaginian hath treated you civilly, it hath been with reluctancy and violence to his own fierce and cruel disposition; and being separated from you at a time he was dissatisfied, and never seen you since, his nature hath become more powerful than all your charms: So that his ambition having regained its accustomed place, this proud African hath resolved to bow no more under your Empire; and hath chosen to that purpose, the most horrible precaution that can be conceived. But Madam (added he) I beseech you spare me the pain of telling you the business exactly, and read this Letter, which will instruct you in it; and be assured, that Alorca will quit all, and hazard all to follow you.  
After these words, he presented to Thomira the Letter which I told you of, wherein the fair Princess read near the same words I repeated to you. In truth, my Lords (said Aspar to the Princes his Auditors) it is most difficult to represent to you in what estate my Master found himself, when Malarcon told him that Thomira had read the Letter of Alorca: it is enough to tell you, that this Prince having quietly attended to the recital of all the Treacheries that had been done against him, could not contain from trembling and agitation of mind, when he fancied this pernicious Letter in the hands of his Princess. But being the various transports of this Prince, did not interrupt the course of Malarcons' story; I shall tell you, that he continued it in this manner: As soon as this generous Princess had ended reading the Letter, she beheld Nadalia with very great amazement: And then turning towards Alorca, I am perfectly obliged to you (said she to him, with a perfectly-charming sweetness) for that you have had reluctancy to follow the Orders of the Prince Hannibal; but Alorca, expect not any entreaties from me, which would be unworthy of the spirit of Thomira: I am prepared for all sorts of events, and 'tis possible you may see that I am not guilty of much weakness.  
Alas, Madam, what is it you say (cried Nadalia) how? would you die? and can you believe Alorca capable of following your sentiments? or must you follow his, Madam? Yes, Madam, you must; and moreover, you must immediately bethink you of quitting Spain, to go and secure in some unknown place the person of the fairest Princess of the World. How, Nadalia? (answered the Princess) would you have Thomira resolve to fly? and instead of awaiting a glorious death at Castulon, go and carry her misery from one Country to another? No, no, Nadalia, Thomira will never resolve on this; and you shall see, that she— Ah, Madam (interrupted Alorca) can you still deliberate on what you have to do? and will you not at length follow the sentiment of Nadalia? Can you imagine I expect to be prayed to do that which ●ought?  
But my Lord (pursued Malarcon) in the mean while that in the Wood of Castulon, Thomira is preferring death before flight; and that Nadalia and Alorca endeavour to overcome this generous Princess, Lucius by little and little recovered himself from the amazement, an adventure so extraordinary had caused to him; for this Prince seemed at first so surprised, that he could scarce believe what he saw: He could not imagine what cause could move Thomira to have him arrested, and yet believing that it was not but by order from that fair Princess that Alorca acted, he suffered this rude treatment without complaining. But no sooner had he learned what was the Commission, we told him Alorca had received, but he was extremely perplexed, in consideration of Thomira, and bethought of attempting his utmost to escape out of our hands, and go take care for the preservation of his fair Cousin the Princess: But again considering, that a man unarmed cannot without miracle, presume to master seven others with weapons, he intended to act after another manner, and to compass that by entreaties, which his valour would without doubt, never have obtained. He addressed himself therefore to me, as to him of all the rest that guarded him, of greatest advantage to serve him; and promised me so many things above my hopes, that assaulting me on that weak side I told you of, I was soon inclinable to do all things for a Prince, from whom I might expect any thing; besides that, I was easily brought to a belief, that I was not obliged to be faithful to a Traitor.  
It is not much needful to tell you, my Lord, that after Lucius had gained me, I restored him the rich Sword which was taken from him; or what means I used to free the Prince out of the house in which he was detained; for you may judge, that since I gave all orders there, this last business was not of so great difficulty to me as the first. But I shall only tell you, that I would not discover to him the treason of Alorca, lest I should thereby diminish the importance of my service, and that I went to attend Lucius to the Bank of Boetis, at a place where I had provided a vessel for Alorca, which I then destined to the Prince of Celtiberia. In the mean time that I took my way along the Boetis, Lucius took his directly to the wood of Castulon, where he was no sooner arrived (as I understood afterwards) but he terribly surprised Alorca.  
For this Spaniard, believing himself betrayed, and that Lucius was informed of the whole business, was instantly become desperate, but far more, when the Prince of Celtiberia told him that he had understood all, and that he came either to break his pernicious design, or to take away his life. So that Alorca being carried by his despair, drew his sword, and ran forcibly towards Lucius to kill him, or to die instantly by his hand, fearing death less, then that the Princess should come to know all that he had contrived against her. But as the Prince of Celtiberia was upon the point of showing the difference between his own valour and that of Alorca; Thomira and Nadalia hastily told him that Alorca was no● culpable, and by that means arrested (as I may so speak) a part of his valour. Nevertheless the moderation of this Prince was unprofitable; for Alorca, either driven by his unhappy destiny, or rather blinded with his own rage, cast himself upon Lucius' Sword, and extorted the punishment of his crime by running to his death, which he received by full thrust that pierced his body. The generous Prince of Celtiberia lamented the fate of Alorca, especially when he beheld tears falling from the fair eyes of Thomira and Nadalia. But soon bethinking himself of the safe●y of the Princess, he entreated her to go into his Chariot, which was attended by a man fifty paces from the place where they were, with intent to go and embark upon the Boetis, and reach the Sea in search of a Sanctuary against the e●●ambition of Hannibal.  
Thomira a long time opposed the motion of Lucius and Nadalia; but at length the prayers of these two dear persons were so powerful, that this fair Princess consented to depart, which notwithstanding she did not, till she had first left the Tablet wherein she writ part of her thoughts. Oh Gods! (cried Hannibal then) how have I flattered myself, and what misinterpretation have I put upon the words of Thomira? But there was the most appearance (added he) to induce me to think so, being ingnorant of all that is now discovered to me, and the words of that adorable Princess being these. (I was inclinable to satisfy you, and I might tell you (were it not boldness) that it was with less repugnance, than a person of my Sex ought apparently to have▪ Hannibal was silent after these words, and whilst he was revolving in his mind a thousand different thoughts, Malarcon told him that Lucius, Thomira, Nadalia, and the Man that had charge of the Princess' Chariot, being arrived at the Banks of Boetis, they quickly embarked in the Vessel that awaited them. Into which Nadalia was no sooner entered, but she said aloud in the hearing of a man whom we left on shore, that we would go into Italy, to the end he might inform you so. Therefore we plied our course towards the mouth of Boetis, which by reason of our unreadiness for a speedy riddance, and the winding of the River, we recovered with some difficulty; but we the rather chose to do so, that we might amuse the search of those that might pursue us.  
But being this outlet of Boetis is not far distant from the Pillars of Hercules, we soon gained the Mediterranean in another Vessel in which we embarked at Gades: for, my Lord, I forgot to tell you that Alorca had given me good store of moneo, which he prevailed with the Princess to be put in her Chariot, whereby we were in a condition of accomplishing any thing. It pleased Lucius to command our course to be steered towards the Baleares Islands, that we might pass from thence into Celtiberia, which was resolutely refused by Thomira, who protested she would in no wise contribute to the ruin of that Country. It is true (added Nadalia) that whatsoever the passions of Hannibal be, he will fend to all places imaginable to give us sanctuary, to inquire news of the Princess; and whereas his nature is fierce, and his Army very formidable, it is to be feared he will destroy the Country we shall secure ourselves in, to fetch us out of it. We must then go to Celtiberia (replied Lucius) for besides that I should be guilty of great weakness, if I sought any other protection then that of the King my Father, I should be unjust if I should bring ruin to any other Country for the preservation of Celtiberia.  
To avoid all you speak of (answed the Princess) it is best we go to some place, where in all likelihood he will not seek us. Ah, Madam (replied Lucius) it would be very difficult to know what place that is. To know it (replied Nadalia) I must tell you, Carthage is it; and I am assured Hannibal will never think of enquiring after us thither; besides the other reasons that oblige us to follow this Council. For being the Arms of Carthage are very redoubtable, there is so little fear in that City, that in probability, There is no notice taken of strangers that pass in and out of it every day. So that we may enter it without being known to any who we are; and the vastness of the place gives us the same security of continuance for some time, we shall afterwards follow new courses according as events shall direct us. Although this opinion of Nadalia was grounded on good reason, yet Lucius could not resolve to close with it, judging it unbeseeming a Prince to use such an obscure low means for his safety: But Thomira and Nadalia effected with their entreaties, that at length he consented the Pilate should steer the Vessel to Carthage. Accordingly we arrived happily at that proud City, and continued there a longer time than we at first intended; till the inquietudes of Lucius obliged Thomira to depart from thence, and repass into Spain; the Prince telling his fair Cousin, that seeing Hannibal was in Italy (for by that time you were arrived there) affairs without doubt would have a new face in Spain, and so she might go and reside with the Queen of Celtiberia.  
These reasons of Lucius, joined with the regret he had to be absent from the Princess of the Ilargetes, induced Thomira to consent readily to the Prince's desires; whereupon we embarked, with design to follow that of the Prince of Celtiberia. But, my Lord, the time did not favour our intention, and the wind had not befriended us above a few hours, but we were overtaken with a furious Tempest which drove us between Sicily and Sardinia, and at length into the Tyrrhene Sea. This was not all our danger, my Lord; for as if one unhappiness waited upon another, the storm had no sooner ceased, but we saw ourselves set upon by two Pirate's Ships. The valour of Lucius did, indeed, appear prodigious in this occasion, although it would at length have failed, if three Ligurian Ships, that suddenly came in sight, had not sided with us and given us succour. But, my Lord (continued Malarcon) that I may shorten my story as much as I can, I shall content myself with telling you, that after we had given chase some while to the Pirates, Lucius with much civility returned thanks to him that commanded the Ligurians, who was a man of a seemly aspect, named Ducarion; and that this generous assistant having admired the goodly Port and valour of Lucius, treated him so obligingly, that he charmed us near as much with his civility, as he had pleased us with the succous he brought. Ducarion was in a little time after presented to the Princess of Thomira, to whom he spoke in a very gallant strain, and made all the offers that might be in the like occasions; It is most fit, Madam (said he) that you take a little repose, after your having endured much; and being all Italy is in Arms, I humbly conceive you cannot be any where so agreeably as at Capua; for besides that that City is a yet exempt from troubles, it is accounted the most lovely habitation in the world. Lucius and Thomira consented to the following of this advice; upon which the generous Ducarion having conducted us to the delicous Capua, bade us adieu, and betook himself to serve your interests, my Lord, which he told us he had embraced against those of Rome. It is not necessary to particularise the manner of our living in the fair Capua, but only to tell you, that we could not leave it when we had made our resolution to that purpose; for the War of Sicily was on a sudden enkindled at that time, by reason whereof the continual scouring about of warlike Ships, made all free passage impossible. Lucius therefore was constrained to abide in Campania, 〈◊〉 avoid exposing the fair Princess of Castulon to new dangers. But, my Lord, this Illustrious Celtiberian found himself so perplexed when he understood preparations were made to bid you a decisive battle, that Aemilius, Vano, Servilius and Regulus, were united together to encounter you, and that all the world siding with your Army or the Roman, the greatest battle was expected to be given that had ever been yet seen in Italy▪ that Lucius not being able to hold himself in a delicious City, while all the world was in Arms, he requested the Princess Thomira, to permit his absence from her for a few days, and not to retain him shut up in Capua on such a brave occasion. For sincerely, Madam (added he) I cannot continue with you, without dishonour, at a time when I am so little necessary to you; and perhaps, I may otherwise be not unserviceable; besides, that to speak all out, if you oblige me to continue in Capua, I shall die with sorrow, when I shall hear the fame of those that signalise themselves in a memorable battle, while Lucius is making conversation with the Ladies in some Garden, or upon the Vulturnus. I know well, Madam, that its possible I may perish in the occasion I speak of: but although that should happen, you have about you persons faithful to you, and who will render you the same service which you can expect from me. Ah, Lucius (interrupted the Princess) why have you the cruelty to speak to me in this sort? is it not enough that you make a proposition to me, which I hear with grief, without proceeding to a thing that affrights me? and do you account it meet such a Prince as you should fall in a crowd of persons, who are wont to perish in the gross, without being known who they are? No, no, Lucius, this must not be approved, with your favour; you ought to have a more glorious destiny, and instead of receiving orders from a Roman or a Carthaginian, the command of several Nations await you. That I may be worthy to command them (replied Lucius) it is requisite that I do all that you forbid me, and go and serve in the Army of the Carthaginians. In the Army of the Carthaginians? (interrupted Thomira) Ah, Lucius! consider I beseech you what you say, That of the Romans (replied he) is so strong, that my heart would perpetually reproach me with the choice I should make of it; besides, that Ducarion being in the other, it is fit that I go and discharge a part of my obligation to him. But, Madam (pursued he, perceiving Thomira about to interrupt him) you need not fear my being known there, for I shall be in the auxiliary forces commanded by Ducarion; I will not appear but at the battle, and will return the soon I can with honour; and in short, I shall for that end serve myself of all imaginable precautions.  
At length, my Lord (continued Malarcon) the enforcement of Lucius' reasons and entreaties overcame the generous Thomira; so that the Celtiberian Prince leaving me with his illustrious Cousin, and delivering me this fair sword, which, by reason it was once yours, was liable to be known, left the pleasant Capua, accompanied only with two or three Horsemen. But if this separation caused sadness in Thomira, it almost made me desperate; I presently fancied that Lucius would perish in this occasion, and thence believing all my hopes lost 〈◊〉 with him, I repented me a thousand times of what I had done for him; and then considering the little solidity there was in what I had done for myself, I abandoned thenceforth all my pretensions, and bethought myself only of making some small establishment to support a quiet retreat. Wherefore soon casting my eyes upon the rich sword which was left in my hands, and considering there was on it the value of more than thirty Talents in Jewels, and that I thought I had some kind of right to wear it; I carried it away indeed, and departed from Capua, without advertising the Princess of my going. But as I judged I might not find a better Sanctuary against you, my Lord, and against the Prince Lucius, than an enemy's Army very numerous, I put myself into that of the Romans, where I thought I could sell the fair Sword I had with better advantage and security then in any other place of the world.  
Nevertheless I succeeded not in my designs, and being I arrived not at the Camp of Aemilius, but when they were in readiness to issue forth of it to give you battle, I was obliged to bethink myself of preserving my prize, instead of selling it: Wherefore I repaired yesterday to a little field, about five or six furlongs from Cannae; where making a small hole under a great tree, which I especially observed, I put my rich Sword into it, apprehending it might occasion my slaughter in the rout, even by the Soldiers of our own party.  
But, my Lord, I was constrained for my cure, and for my ransom, to send to seek this Sword, which I intended to have fetched myself after the battle: I am notwithstanding, rather glad then troubled it fell out so; for he that brought it by order of the Gaul Captain, here in presence, showed it to Magar, whose servant he sometimes was, either to invite him to buy it, or to be informed by him of its true value. Upon which, this Carthaginian knowing it, came immediately to see me, and he was since the cause of your coming, my Lord, and that I have occasion to discharge my breast of a thing which began strangely to molest me: For although I have cleansed my soul as much as possibly hitherto from all scrupulosity, yet am I at present of another temper, and frame to myself a thousand fears, when I begin to think of death, and to think of it, as the thing of all the world the most terrible: And this hath affrighted me so, as to be capable of giving you nothing but a true relation of all I have done and seen; and if my sincerity deserves not forgiveness of my crimes, be pleased to remember, my Lord, as a persuasive to it, that it is from me you are informed, that the Princess of Castulon is at Capua, and that the Prince of Celtiberia is in your Army.  
When Malarcon had done speaking (pursued Aspar) my Master looked upon him a while, unresolved whether he should return him thanks or reproaches; but as this Prince considered that Malarcon was in bed dangerously wounded, and moreover, that he had told him of Thomira's being at Capua: Live (said he to him) but live to do actions contrary to those of your former life. Upon which, the Prince being carried by his impetuous humour, went forth without speaking more; and instead of going to his own Tent, went directly to that of Ducarion; whereto he no sooner came, but he betook himself to embrace Lucius, and did it with so much tenderness, that the Prince was amazed at the change.  
Be not surprised, Lucius (said he to him) at the alteration you apprehend in me; it is Hannibal whom you see, and not that Monster who would destroy the adorable Thomira; it is the true Hannibal whom you behold, and the Hannibal that loves you, and esteems you injust that you have been able to believe him capable of the most abominable crime that ever was committed: Yes, Lucius, I love and esteem you, because you are generous, as you are allied to Thomira, and have always faithfully served that Divine Princess.  
These words of my Master augmented the astonishment of Lucius in such sort, that this Prince was amused what to answer; so that Hannibal embracing him again, without heeding that they were either of them wounded, told him, That he came from seeing Malarcon, and then re-Peated to him in few words, all that he had been informed: To which Lucius, having always had esteem and admiration for Hannibal, readily gave credit, and returned all his tendernesses and civilities; he confessed himself unblamable, that he could believe Hannibal guilty, and then declared many circumstances which might induce that belief, and excuse it. But when he came to consider in his mind the treacheries and death of Alorca, and by what contingencies Hannibal had been cleared, ●e could not contain from lifting his eyes up to Heaven, to admire the providence and justice of the Gods, who had caused the ruin of a Traitor, and afterwards made the innocence of an illustrious Prince bright and resplendent.  
You may please to know, that after this, my Master having known by the Physicians that it might be done without danger, caused Lucius to be carried to his own Tent; where using all possible care and tenderness over him, he proposed to him to have Malarcon brought to his presence, to which Lucius would not consent; either out of aversion to see a man that had forsaken Thomira, or to signify to my Master, that he would not hear that confirmed from Malarcon, which he had learned from the mouth of the illustrious Hannibal.  
Since therefore, Lucius (said my Master to him) it is most certain that Thomira is at Capua, as it also is most sure that I adore that fair Princess, I will defer the siege of Rome, and go straight to Capua, and cast myself at the feet of my Princess, and let her know the difference there is between the true Hannibal, and the Hannibal of the perfidious Alorca. But I am ignorant, continued he, in what manner to go, being I must not go thither as an Enemy, and 'tis possible they will not admit me as a Friend.  
But I hope (answered Lucius) to effect that you be received as such; for, besides that your victories put you in an estate of finding all things easy, I have friends in Capua, who will without doubt act for your interests, Ah, Lucius, replied my Master, how should I be obliged to you? and what is it I can do to recompense so great a favour? But, Lucius, continued he) I do injury to your generosity, I know you will act for me, although I am not in a condition to return you the like office, and that you will employ your friends for my interests; in the mean time, I am contriving to moderate the ardour of my Troops to go and besiege Rome, and to persuade them, that the alliance of the Capuans is of absolute necessity to our success in that siege.  
My Master immediately fell to execution of all he had projected, and prepared himself to go to Capua; and although he foresaw all the world would be astonished at his so doing, and that he should be charged with want of skill to use his last victory; yet he chose rather to satisfy his love then his ambition; and to go and see the fair Princess Thomira, then possess the proudest City of the World. But, my Lords, it is superfluous to particularise to you the negotiations and successes of Lucius in this affair, being sufficient to show you in the sequel of my discourse, Hannibal at Capua, and to relate you many other things, which it is most likely you never yet heard.  
Aspar held his peace in this place of his Narration; and being it was already late, the Princes that heard him, did not demand the continuation of it: Upon which he making a profound reverence, withdrew to an aportment of the Tent, and le●t his illustrious Auditors in admiration of the wonders he had recounted them: Antiochus admired the valour of the Prince of Carthage, the sick King was very much affected with the greatness of his Love, Perseus preferred his conduct above all his other qualities, and the young Nicomedes, not being able sufficiently to esteem the fierceness and noble haughtiness of this Prince, concluded, that it ought to be granted, That Great men were, as it were, Masterpieces of Nature, made by her at several times; and that after the same manner that she produces Lions amongst Animals, she brings into the World amongst Men, Alexander's and Hannibals, who show themselves even in their infancy naturally Grand persons. But I believe, answered Perseus, that the Valour which gives the title of Great, cannot be natural; for seeing it is a virtue, is it not requisite we be taught wherein it consists, lest we continue in pusillanimity, or fall into the contrary vice? I incline to the opinion of the Prince of Macedon, said the wounded King, and I believe it is impossible we should be naturally valiant; for Nature gives us knowledge of the danger, to the end we might avoid it, and valour makes us know and contemn it. The Prince Nicomedes, replied the King of Syria, could have brought so conclusive reasons, that I should willing side with him; but seeing the prince Hannibal is entering, added he, perceiving him at the portal, we have nothing to do but to beseech him to determine the question.  
I beg your pardon, answered Hannibal, with a very sad air, and desire not to decide the controversy by my sentence. But you must pass your judgement in the case, replied Antiochus, and let us know whether we be valiant by Nature, or by Education. I conceive then, said Hannibal, that both the one and the other contributes thereunto, that Nature gives us dispositions, and those are perfected by Education; for if Nature alone made us valiant, than pusillanimity would be a natural defect, and consequently unblameable; and if on the other side, institution only made us so, all such as were brought up in the same manner, would be equally valiant: So that I may say the same of Valour, which is said of almost all things in the world, in which it is requisite that both Art and Nature conjoin, to exhibit an excellent piece.  
After these words, the conversation was broke off; and it being very late by this time, Hannibal, Antiochus, Perseus, and Nicomedes, saluting the wounded King very civilly, passed to a Tent, where there was a very magnificent repast provided for them; but as Hannibal appeared very melancholy during supper, he was obliged by the requests of Antiochus, to discover the cause of his sadness: Upon which he recounted to them in few words all that he had learned from the Messenger of the Prince of Vermina. He told them, That Masonissa had at length married Sophonisba, of whom he was desperately amorous, and that that saithless man, unworthy to bear the title of King, had afterwards poisoned his fair Queen, to please Scipio and the Romans, who did not approve this alliance.  
This fatal news moved pity in the three Princes, for the Destiny of the Queen of Numidia, and abhorrence of the King of the Massessitians: But that which was most surprising, was, that Antiochus, Nicomedes, and Perseus, being retired into their Tent, after a conversation very sorrowful, news was brought to the Cathaginian Prince, that the wounded King was at the point of death, and that he was in the last despair, which would undoubtedly conclude him, if he were not timely succoured.  
Hereupon Hannibal hastened to the Tent of this desolate Prince, and was strangely surprised, when he heard all his exclamations and complaints. How! is Sophonisba dead! (cried he) why have you suffered this, O ye great Gods! Yes, as great as you are, you have been envious of the happiness of the Earth, you have taken thence a Queen, which merited our adorations, and who might have blest us in this world with a felicity equal to yours.  
Ah, my Lord, continued he, addressing to the Prince Hannibal as soon as he was entered, I will live no longer, since the adorable Saphonisba doth not: I am still devoted to that fair Queen, I will die to follow her, I will no longer continue in the world, being I shall never more behold that Divine person in it. Hannibal was extremely surprised with the stranger's words, and the deep interest he took in the death of the Queen of Numidia: but he was much more astonished, when he beheld the afflicted King reaching his hand to his wound, and that there was no other appearances but of an urter despair, and such as would soon terminate in death. Hannabal seized upon his arm, and endeavouring to encourage him, used such language to him, as he conceived serviceable to his consolation.  
My Lord, said he to him, attend a while the sequel of my discourse, and you will understand what you have to do: The loss of Sophonisba determines me sufficiently in that particular, interrupted the King somewhat hastily, and her death hath too assuredly concluded mine, to leave you any place to oblige me to live. But when you shall know that the King Masanissa hath caused her to be poisoned, within a few days after he had espoused her, answered Hannibal; and that to please the Romans, he deprived himself of that incomparable treasure, of which he ought to have known the value by the possession of it, I believe you will be forward to revenge the fair Sophonisba, and not resolve to die till you have taken away the li●e of a person that hath rendered yours hateful. 'Tis no●, added he, that I would incense you against the Romans and their allies, I do not fear them, so much as to practise the withdrawing of their generous Friends, by an Artifice mean and low, and I esteem you too much, to gain you that way. This fallacy, continued he, perceiving the King answered nothing, would be a means more proper to invite your scorn, then win your esteem: I do not therefore speak for my own interest, when I speak against Masanissa; nor do I set forth his crime to you, but as an unheard of cruel circumstance of that mishap, wherein you partake more than both the Carthaginians and the Numidians; otherwise you could not be ignorant of the particularities which are already published throughout all Africa, and you might have understood from a thousand tongues, what mine had not told you.  
Hannibal was silent after these words, in attendance of the King's answer, who began to behold him with less disquiet, though not with less surprise; and at length answered, Ah, my Lord, what is it you tell me of Masanissa! that he hath murdered the adorable Sophonisba, Ah, my Lord, how unhappy is my lot, that that fair Queen should be deprived of life by the hands of that wretched King? and that among so many illustrious qualities, which rendered Sophonisba Divine, she had not also that of immortal, which was only wanting to a person so accomplished. No, no, my Lord, what you have told men's not possible; but without question you have been misinformed, and the Queen of Numidia is still alive, if she hath not ended her days by some other accident.  
My Lord, replied Hannibal, I have always so highly esteemed Masanissa, that I have had great repugnance to entertain the belief of his being capable of so black a guilt; and I am glad, continued ●e, to cheer up the wounded King, that I find my hopes any thing confirmed, that that news is erroneous▪ Masanissa never merited your esteem, replied the King; but at least, he was never capable of an ignoble thought: For, my Lord, seeing it is requisite you know the King whom you have treated so generously, I must declare to you, that he is the Masanissa of whom you speak: Yes, my Lord, I am that Masanissa, whose life hath been attended with accidents so strange, that they have filled the world with wonder: I am that Prince who hath lost and recovered Kingdoms, who have confederated both with the Carthaginians and the Romans, and who have adored Sophonisba from the time I first had the honour to know her; and at last that Masanissa, who hath been overcome by the great Hannibal, who hath been treated by him with civility altogether extraordinary; and that Masanissa, who regulating his life only by that of Sophonisba, expects with extreme impatience to know the condition in which that adorable Queen is.  
The Carthaginian Prince was infinitely amazed to behold Masanissa in his Tent, and that Masanissa who was fallen off from the Cathaginians; but presently reflecting upon the great adventures which Love and Honour had drawn that King into to break with Carthage; and also considering him in a state of pity, he increased his civilities, instead of diminishing them. Masanissa constrained himself to answer the caresses of the Prince of Carthage; but he acquitted himself in so forced a manner, that Hannibal easily knew that he was still strangely disquieted: Ah, my Lord, answered Masanissa, it is hard to be composed of spirit, when there is hourly apprehension of hearing the most cruel and fatal news confirmed, that I am capable of receiving: For what can be imagined more cruel than this accident? I have been afflicted for the loss of a Kingdom, but I have been also comforted with a belief, as it effectively happened, that the Romans could reinstate me in that which the Caathaginians had assisted King Syphax my Enemy and my Rival to gain from me. I have lost all my relations, yet conceived nothing of surprising or extraordinary in these misfortunes.  
But, my Lord, I find my condition far more unhappy, when I consider myself bereft of the fair Princess Sophonisba, to put her into the arms of my enemy, at the same time that the Prince Asdrubal her Father had promised her to me, and that adorable person had given me many testimonies of her esteem and good inclination. Nevertheless, being I loved Sophonisba more for herself then for my own sake, I found some contentment when I considered that I alone was miserabe, and Sophonisba, Queen of two Realms. Then indeed I did not resolve to die, because I lived more in the great Queen of Numidia, then in the unfortunate King of the Massessilians. But the thought of that illustrious Queen's death, of this cruel separation. Ah! this is it, my Lord, that breaks the greatest constancy, and subdues it to the violence of the calamity; here the strongest soul finds itself too weak to resist the stroke of fate. Yet there may be unfortunate persons of this kind, but none comparable to me, if these tidings be true; and the Gods, yea, the Gods themselves can add nothing to my punishment.  
For, my Lord, as if it were not enough to lose all that I love, I am like to pass for a wretched prisoner, and that of the most fair and sweet person that ever eye beheld; and my innocence will only serve to redouble my torment, when I shall consider it buried in the same Tomb with me, and so never being published, my memory become odious to all Posterity. Can you therefore imagine a misfortune more great and strange? Bethink yourselves of circumstances that may augment it, if there be any such; or confess that I am upon the point of being the most unhappy of men. I confess (answered Hannibal) that your case would be such in the extremity, although you would at least die with the satisfaction of being innocent; and I judge that the true Author of this impiety would be far more miserable.  
How say you? (interrupted Masanissa) Can you believe that a man who should be so wretched as to commit this crime, would be capable to resent the loss of his reputation to the quick? Can you believe he would be sensibly afflicted for the death of a person whom himself had murdered? And do you not consider that he would have even some contentment, although unworthy and malicious, to have effected that which he judged he ought to do, or which he had designed? The Prince Hannibal was willing to put off this conversation, which served only to redouble the grief of Masanissa; and not being able to give him any hope after the intelligence he had received, he would not be an occasion to continue his despair. But Masanissa prevented him, and beholding him a few moments with an air wholly submissive; My Lord (said he to him) I hope the illustrious Hannibal will grant that to Masanissa, which a valiant Carthaginian promised some days since to a Cavalier whom he vanquished. You know that ●he promised to procure him licence to depart from the Camp of the Carthaginians when he pleased. Perform that engagement now, my Lord, seeing it is impossible for me to live in the condition I am in, and permit me to depart to morrow morning before daylight to go to Zama, where I may receive intelligence from Cyrtha. If the King Masanissa remembers that promise (answered Hannibal) perhaps he hath not forgot the principal condition of it, which was the unknown Cavalier might depart from the Army of the Carthaginians, when it was requisite for him to serve against it. We will attend therefore, if you please, till you are perfectly cured, and not suffer you to undertake a journey in the condition your are in; and albeit you are a friend of Scipio, and one of the bravest courages in the world, yet I had more regard to the preservation of a formidable enemy, then to hazard the life of a generous Prince, by a consent which I cannot give but to his prejudice. If you expose my life to danger (replied Masanissa) by permitting me to undertake a journey in the condition wherein I am, you will infallibly cause the loss of it by detaining me longer in your Army. I shall then do all that your pleasure requires (answered Hannibal) but it shall be with condition that you suffer me to conduct you, without parting from you till you be in a place where your cure may be perfected. Ah, too generous Prince! (Masanissa answered) what thanks can I render you that may be proportional to the obligations which I have to you: you use too great solicitousness towards a miserable person, whom I shall never admit your trouble to accompany; besides that, I have no necessity of being conducted; for apprehending nothing from the Rousanes, a Pass● port from the Prince Hannibal will be sufficient to carry me through all places possessed by the Carthaginians, without giving that illustrious Prince the disturbance of leaving his Army for my consideration. But I am resolved to do it (replied Hannibal) and take no more followers with me then will be necessary to serve you, without drawing so many Troops after me, as would only serve to blaze abroad my departure, of which some spies might advertise the Romans to cause me to be surprised; although I know there is no endangering one's safety in this case, in the company of the King Masanissa. I am not ignorant of the power you have with the Romans, and I know what generosity you would have for Hannibal. But I confess I would not be in a condition to employ it, or to exact favours of this nature from your goodness. Not that my humour which cannot suffer Hannibal to be obliged, would give me repugnance to be so to Masanissa; but I have too much esteem for the King of the Massessilians, to suffer without extreme regreat, that he should demand the liberty of Hannibal from the Romans, and be pat to request a thing from his Allies which would be greatly to their prejudice. These are the inducements (said the Cathaginian Prince) which oblige me to go without noise. But in the mean time it is requisite for me to leave you, being 'tis very late, & to conjure you with all my soul to moderate the inquietudes of your mind, and consider, that Masanissa, whose great spirit hath resisted the rudest assaults of fortune, ought not to be seized with so violent a sorrow upon the naked relation of bad news.  
After these words, Hannibal would not permit Masanissa time to make him his remerciments; but saluting him with very much civility, went forth of his Tent to return to his own, where before his going to rest, he ordered Aspar to take care that no person spoke to the wounded King. If this generous Prince was sensible of the passion of Masanissa for the fair Sophonisba, he was not ignorant of the injustice of the Carthaginians, who had disposed of this Princess in favour of King Syphax, vvhilst Masanissa was fight for their interests in Spain under the Prince Asdrubal, in which regard he was forward in this occasion for the consolation of this unfortunate King; so that knowing the relation he had received was in part but too true (although never believing that Masanissa was really culpable) he would not that any person should speak to this afflicted Prince for fear of disturbing the little calm he had procured him by qualifying the relation of the business towards the end of it. He had designed to accompany him for no other end but to secure him from being ascertained of the Tragedy; not daring therefore to send any considerable company to attend him, because he foresaw that either that multitude would be too talkative, or engage him to speak too much, by laying some proposition upon them, which might give ground, to suspect the importance of the prisoner whom he remitted, and cause some dissatisfaction in the minds of the Carthaginians. He determined therefore to depart the next morning, and not to forsake Masanissa till he were in the hands of persons to whom he might discover in what manner it was fit for them to comport themselves for the preservation of his life. After which he considered the death of the fair Queen of Numidia with tender resentments; and this sad thought would have long time afflicted him, had it not at length given place to those which may be called ruling and predominant in Hannibal.  
This Prince was too amorous of the fair Princess of Castulon, and of glory, to have any long meditations of other things, but of the means to overcome the insensibility of Thomira, and the Army of Scipio. For he ruminated in his mind of all possibilities to accomplish these two great designs; in which thoughts he was insensibly seized on by sleep, and passed the night with sufficient quiet. The next morning he was no sooner accoutred, but he was surprised at the sight of the King Masanissa entering into his Tent, who was supported by Aspar, and would at first express some kind of gaiety, and lay aside his regret to be compleasant in some measure with the generous Prince who had taken care of his repose. Hannibal went towards him very civilly and presently seating him, endeavoured yet further to represent to him the danger to which he was going to expose himself in the journey he undertook; he moreover added his entreaties to his reasons; but could not win any thing upon the mind of Masanissa, who was resolute for departing to go to Zama, and to understand the news of Cyrtha from a person who was informed of all that could concern the Queen of Numidia, and to know exactly the state of affairs there from the mouth of one of his most faithful servants who it was possible might be returned thither already. Wherefore the Prince 〈◊〉 gave command that every thing should be in readiness 〈◊〉 this departure immediately; and then making his excuses to Masanissa, he went to the Tent of Maharbal, to whom he gave Orders necessary for the Army, and desired him to make a compliment in his behalf to the King of Syria, with the Princes of Macedonia and Bithynia, and to assure them that his return should be within seven or eight hours. This done, he came back again to Masanissa, where notwithstanding any resistance the King could make, Hannibal would not he diverted from accompanying him to a great Town, which was about forty furlongs from his own Camp: for this obliging Prince intended to inform himself punctually of the names of Masanissa's Confidents, and to stay a while at that place to write to Zama, to the friends of the King of the Massessilians, that they might be advertised in what manner the news was fit to be communicated to him, which he was going to learn. Wherefore these two great personages went from the Army, soon after followed only with ten or twelve Cavaliers. Upon the way Hannibal understood by circumstances in discourse with Masanissa, what his Inclinations were, and endeavoured to employ that knowledge to the benefit of his quiet: and after that they continued there way, without proceeding in the conversation which was begun at their first coming forth of the Camp. The King of the Massessilians employed his thoughts of nothing but on the Queen of Numidia; in which he had notwithstanding some contenting moments, when he considered that the report of fame publishing Masanissa for the poisoner of Sophanisba, and that without any likelihood of truth, there might be no more reality in that of the fair Queen's death. But his affliction soon chased away these thoughts as to beguiling, and becoming ingenious to torment himself with more violence, he represented to his fancy Sophonisba in all her beauties, gallantry, and goodness toward Masanissa; and than that same Sophonisba dead, and that by violence and cruelty. These last reflections were so importune to this illustrious Unfortunate, that his despair was increased by them; and if he had so much restraint as not to evidence it before Hannibal, he may be thought to be so much the more miserable since by including so painful a passion in his heart, the anguish became more bitter and insupportable. But if dead Sophonisba possessed the imagination of he poor King of the Massessilians, Thomira insensible did not less ●ill that of the passionate Prince of Carthage, who after a few instants that were not altogether unpleasing, he was taken up with long muse, which inquieted him extraordinarily. They at length arrived before they were aware at one of those public houses, which are by custom appointed for the reception of strangers, upon the great way distant a few furlongs from Capsa, there Hannibal lighted, with purpose to cause Masanissa to take a little rest, and to use the interim for the dispatch he had resolved upon, in order whereunto choosing a commodious Chamber for the King, himself re●●● into another to write a Letter, which he sent away immediately to Zama; the Master of the hostelry, who was unfurnished of provisions in a house too much exposed to the passage of men of Arms, sent to Capsa to purvey for such as he deemed convenient for the entertainment of his guests, whom he judged to be of great quality; after which he came to do reverence to the great Hannibal, and told him that the Princesses were not to pass by till within two days. Hannibal did not apprehend what this man meant; but the name of Princess exciting his curiosity, he demanded what Princesses they were which were to pass by within two days. I know not their names (answered the Host) but I have heard at Capsa, that there are two of them the fairest persons of the world; and it may be added, the most happy too, notwithstanding I am told they seemed sufficiently melancholy. For, my Lord (continued he) consider I beseech you their good fortune; they are magnificently received in all Towns through which they pass, all Princes, and the most powerful Kings endeavour to gain their favour; and I believe if they were so minded, we should soon have a general peace; for to declare the outside of the business. I have been assured that our Prince Hannibal is amorous of one of these Princesses, and the other is the Mistress of Soipio. If so, you may please to judge whether they deserve not to be honoured universal; and that it may not be concluded with verity, that the end of this War will establish one of these Ladies the surpreme Princess of the World.  
But I demand your pardon, my Lord, if I have told you things which in likelihood you know better than I have recounted them; being probable that, such persons as you are not ignorant of news of this Nature. It is true, (added he) you were pleased to command me to relate them unto you; and that injunction has drawn me into the same fault I was guilty of yesterday before a young stranger, who caused me to tell him the same matters, which notwithstanding himself knew better than I, as far a I conjecture. Hannibal answered, that he knew nothing of this news, and that he was glad to learn it; upon which, to get a further account, he inquired concerning this young stranger, and demanded of Host, if he knew who he was. I know him not (answered he) but this I can affirm, that a man of more comely aspect was never seen; and that it was the late sight of his gallant person, that hinders me from being absolutely surprised with yours. Notwithstanding I am much astonished at the unusual coming of two persons at the same time to my house, whose goodly presences sufficiently speak them to be very considerable. At the same time (interrupted the Prince Hannibal) is that stranger here at the present then? He is not here at this instant (replied the host) but he is not far distant, and I believe he is gone to repose himself under the Trees, which are about two hundred paces from the highway, and that he will continue there all the day, to avoid being known by returning to the house which is open to all the world; at least this is my conjecture, being he hath also caused his Horses to be led thither. I shall not molest him then (answered Hannibal) and if his goodly aspect gave me desires to know him, the design he hath not to be seen, hath destroyed them; and I will not retain a curiosity which might displease a man whom you have described so advantageously to me. Scarce had Hannibal ended these words, when Aspar entered his Chamber, with a hastiness more than ordinarily; and told him that he had seen five and twenty or thirty Cavaliers appear whom he judged to be either Romans, or of those sort of roving Soldiers, who in times of War, without being friends to either party, are always enemies to such as are not in a capacity to resist them. For riding about all the Avenues to discover if any party passed that way towards the War, he perceived this Troop, which according to all appearances were no Carthaginians. It will be no bad counsel then (answered Hannibal) to put ourselves in a posture not to be surprised. Go therefore, Aspar (added the Prince) and give order for all to be in a readiness, and tell them that I am going to Horse. This order was as soon executed as given; and the Prince Hannibal perceiving that Aspar had reason to give him this intelligence, and that these Cavaliers were coming directtly towards him, having learned by him whom the host had sent to Capsa, that there were people of quality at his Master's house; he went forth to them with nine others, casting from his countenance a kind of noble fierceness, which never abandoned this great man in contingencies of this nature. Let us on, my friends, said this illustrious Carthaginian to the Cavaliers which followed him, and let us show that Hannibal is neither to be killed nor taken with ease. The wife of the host, who ran in a fright to the Gate of her House to get into it, hearing these words, and not finding the passage free at first, fled towards a shade of Trees which was not far distant from thence, where the handsome stranger was seated upon a ●u●t of green Grass. Ah, my Lord (cried he instantly) there are about thirty Cavaliers come to assail and kill the great Hannibal, who hath not above seven or eight persons with him. The young stranger had no sooner heard these words, but a noble ardour animating his countenance, he leapt upon his, Horse, and commanded his Armour-bearer to do the same, and to speed with him to the defence of Hannibal. To defend Hannibal? (cried the Squire) Alas, my Lord, I beseech you pardon me if I tell you, you are in a mistake, and unquestionably mean some other person then him you named. It is enough that I have told you what I intent to do (answered the generous Stranger) Ah, my Lord (said the Squire again) will you fight for your Enemy? No, no, you must not do it, notwithstanding your magnanimity; but be pleased to remember that the Hannibal you are going to defend, is he who hath ruined your Country, who hath caused all the losses of Rome, and in a word, whom you ought to fight against as the most irreconcilable of your enemies. I have considered all, that you tell me (replied the magnanimous Stranger, marching towards the place where he was to join with the Prince of Carthage) but besides I have considered, that Hannibal is over poured by great inequality. The Stranger so hasted in speaking these words, that he soon reached the place where the fight was beginning, when the Squire endeavouring again to divert his Master from his design; My Lord (said he to him) behold your enemy! what course will you take? Dye, or save Hannibal (answered the Stranger) Great Gods! (cried the Squire, notwithstanding his being accustomed to the Heroic actions of his illustrious Master) is it possible that— He could not continue out his examination; for beholding his Master rush with an extraordinary impetuosity upon the enemies of Hannibal, he seconded him to fight near his person. The valiant Stranger began to distribute death as soon as he began to strike; and the first (whose unhappy fall guided him to utter a blow at him) lost his life at the very instant that he attaqued that of the courageous Stranger.  
Hannibal for his part fought like himself: but how great soever the valour of this Illustrious Carthaginian was, yet it cannot be denied but that of the unknown assistant caused admiration in this Prince by actions wholly miraculous. These two brave persons redoubled their efforts, and either of them strove to call up all their strength and prowess to the view of an emulous valour; and these two Heroes being infinitely ardent of glory by the bent of their minds, they beheld one another as rivals, and performed things so prodigious as do almost surpass belief. That which was yet more rare in this conjuncture, was, that they highly valued each the other without any disposition to love mutually, and fought with an intention so strange, and yet so generous, that the stranger exposed his life only to preserve that of Hannibal, and this Prince also fought not but for the safety of the stranger; so that being thus accorded, they beat down as many enemies, as they dealt blows, and within few moments of the thirty Cavaliers at the beginning of the combat, they overthrew four and twenty, and put the rest to flight. But if these two Warriors appeared extremely redoubtable, yet they accused themselves in their own breasts that they had not done enough, and in the noble ardour which quickened them, they believed, they had too few enemies to encounter, and oftentimes wished there had been a greater number, as a more ample subject of manifesting their prowess in all its extent. Nevertheless there was some difference remarkable in the manner of fight between these two great men, for choler animated the courage of Hannibal; but that of the Stranger was a valour purely generous: and if the Prince of Carthage seemed furious and terrible, the magnanimous unknown by a deportment much heroical did not overcome more than was necessary to do, to be the defender of the Prince of Carthage. Wherefore he restrained himself from pursuing the six Cavaliers which fled; and perceiving Hannibal making after them; Stay Hannibal, stay (cried he) after which turning towards his Squire, Let us on then (said the generous Unknown) and either perish or dispatch Hannibal, since we may now do it without ignominy.  
This design is worthy of yourself (answered the Squire) but my Lord, although you are the most valiant man in the world, yet you ought to take notice that the match is not equal; for Hannibal hath five Cavaliers with him still. Those five Cavaliers (interrupted the unknown) do not hinder Hannibal from being my enemy. They do not without question (replied the Squire) but they make your enemy a little too powerful; And 'tis because he is so (said the stranger) that I intent to fight him, and that my heart prompts me to attaque him. He said no more, being he see Hannibal at a little distance off him; Hannibal (cried he to him presently) you must now turn your sword against me; 'tis I that am left for you to fight with, your greatest enemy, who hath already ●ought to preserve you, that he might afterwards cause you to perish in a way that will not be dishonourable unto me. You speak so surprisingly (answered Hannibal) that I am wholly unresolved what I ought to do; But I shall no longer debate upon it (pursued he fiercely) since I am no more obliged to you after the Declaration you have made me; and that I understand you too valiant, not to fight you with very great satisfaction and glory. Hannibal upon these words turned towards those that were with him, and commanded them not to stir, what success soever he had in the combat he was going to engage in; and then put himself in a posture to encounter his illustrious enemy. But this Prince was strangely surprised when he beheld the King Masanissa speak to the valiant unknown. Whoever you are (said he to him, who seem to be a Roman by the enmity you have against the Prince Hannibal, do not attempt upon a life which you have so generously preserved; but if you have no regard to the preservation of a Prince to whom you declare yourself an enemy; yet at least allow something to the request of Masanissa, whom without doubt you know, and who beseeches you not to begin a combat, wherein he is likely to interest himself so far, that he will be the first that perishes, and that in such a manner as cannot satisfy you. And you, my Lord (continued he, addressing to the Prince of Carthage) have you drawn me on hitherto unprofitably all indisposed as I am? and will you refuse Masanissa the favour which he entreats of you, to consider this generous Unknown as a person that hath fought for you, rathe● as one that desires to fight against you? These words of the sick King made some impression in the minds of these two Warriors; but assoon as they turned their eyes from Massanissa, they beheld each other so fiercely, and their gestures seemed so ●aughty and scornful, that they were yet more eagerly animated. So that they settled themselves in their Saddles, and lift up their Swords to begin the fight: upon which Masanissa observing their intent, that he might yet break off the combat, cast himselve between these two Illustrious Gallants, and told them all which might calm and moderate their ardour. Fight then (cried he at length) and have the inhumanity to pass through the breast of Masanissa, before you meet. Yes (continued he) you must trample a King under the feet of your horses if you resolve to fight, and moreover a King indisposed, and a suppliant, and one that entreats you nothing but to preserve each other. If these words were powerful, the air of Masanissa was not less affecting, so that the two Warriors were persuaded, and beheld one another with less animosity; after which casting their eyes upon Masanissa, they seemed to express by their silence, that the King of the Massessilians was an obstacle whom they would not violate. At length the Prince of Carthage broke off the silence, and speaking to his generous enemy. Valiant Sir (said he to him) I am sorry this opportunity must pass without sighing; but we shall have some more favourable within a few days, if you will make yourself known. You shall know me sufficiently, answered the fierce Unknown, and perhaps it shall be at the head of your Army, that I will attaque you, and make myself known▪ after these words, this Illustrious stranger took the way of Capsa, and left the Prince of Carthage, and the King of the Massessilians in admiration of what he had done; It is true, the fierce Hannibal had as much regret in his mind as he had esteem for his generous Enemy: the fierce Hannibal, I say, who had never been de●ied, without fight upon it and overcoming, insomuch that he had great vexation for the constraint which hindered him from fight in the reencounter, and he would without doubt have passed over all considerations whatever to go after this valiant Stranger, to overtake and fight him, if Masanissa had not powerfully opposed him therein; and the fierce Carthaginan had not also comforted himself with the hopes that this generous person would really acquit his promise to make himself known. Not that the haughty humour of Hannibal was very capable to afford him satisfaction out of a naked hope, but for that the Prince perceived he could not otherwise be satisfied, because Masanissa opposed his purpose more peremptorily than before, having known the stranger by the tone of his voice, and more by reflecting upon his heroical proceeding. By which this King no longer doubted but that this magnanimous stranger was the Illustrious Scipio. For it is the action of an Illustrious person to expose his own life for the preservation of that of a brave enemy; but 'tis the action of Scipio alone to attaque the famous Hannibal in the manner which he did. So that I may say, Scipio comported himself like Scipio; and that there is no place to mistake this gallant Hero: I must therefore abandon all to follow him.  
The End of the First Part.     


The Grand SCIPIO.  
PART II.  
BOOK I.  
THe Illustrious Scipio (whom we must no longer term by the name of Stranger, after his lately achieved heroic actions) continued his way towards Capsa, though with resolution not to enter into that City, notwithstanding it had declared itself neuter a little while before, and also contributed towards the support of the Roman Army. For being desirous not to be known, he would not put himself into a City where such a world of eyes would have been upon him, judging it impossible to escape meeting with some there that had seen him before, or heard of him enough by fame to know him. Wherefore he determined to go and spend the night in a house not far from Capsa; and as he was yet in the grand Road, before he came to turn off into a less, which led to that House, he began to reflect upon the late adventure, which seemed so surprising to him, that he could not but testify as much to his Attendant. Ah! Flavius (said he to him) is it possible that my eyes have not deluded me, but really seen Masanissa with the most inveterate of my enemies? that Masanissa, whom I have loved with so great ardour, and given a place to in my friendship, little different from that which L●lius possesses. But 'tis undoubtedly true, I have seen & heard him speak; and if I have not seen that Masanissa, whose soul owned none but generous sentiments, I have seen that Masanissa whom men report to have poisoned Sophonisba, and who after the commission of a crime of that nature, may make no scruple of abandoning his best friends. 'Tis true, Flavius, I feel some kind of reluctant thoughts in my breast in favour of the King of the Massessilians; and though all the world publishes already that he sent poison to the Queen of Numidia, and myself have seen him with my enemies; yet there are a kind of contrary motions in my mind, which check the passions the former inducements might raise in me. Yes, Flavius, I feel some Favourable inclinations which will not permit me to condemn Masanissa without being better informed, and without unriddling those things, which perhaps will serve to satisfy me, that this King is rather unfortunate then criminal. For in truth, hitherto I have found no cause to repent me of having placed my friendship upon any I have given it to; but contrarily I have had the happiness to see the Elections I have made of what nature soever, generally approved▪ Scipio stopped suddenly after these words, and changed colour when he considered what he had last said; and then soon after turning towards Flavius: But alas (said he to him) if I have had this happiness, I have withal had the happiness of seeing the election which is most glorious unto me, become that which renders me the most miserable of men. Yes, Flavius, continued he, the passion I have in my soul for the adorable Aemilia, causes me to suffer that which certainly never any other did: and since the obstacles which are met with in the course of a passion like to mine (if yet 'tis possible to find any like it) since, I say, these obstacles first were capable to make men unfortunate, they never made any so deeply miserable as they have me. The amorous Scipio proceeded no further, but bestowing his silence in musing, found a sort of great satisfaction in repassing over in mind all the sweetnesses he had tasted in the conversation of the Illustrious Aemilia, and afterward in surveying all the invincible obstacles which had hindered him from being completely happy. But while these thoughts possessed his mind, he beheld a slave coming towards him, whom he presently knew to belong to Laelius. Scipio did not omit instantly to demand news of his friend, nor the slave to satisfy him respectively in these terms: My Lord, My Master being unassured in what place he might find you, by reason he chose two or three to change according to occasion, is gone to a house not far from Capsa, where he thinks to meet you, and sent me to that which stands upon this way, to deliver you a Letter if I should happen to find you there. Upon which words the slave accordingly presented a Letter to Scipio from Laelius, which containeth as followeth.  
LAELIUS to SCIPIO  
LEave the stand which you have taken up to behold Aemilia pass by, and rather come to Capsa, there to behold that admirable person more fully and delightfully. The Prince of Capsa, in whose Palace Aemilia is to be entertained, is desirous to have you received into the same also, and his excellent Daughter the Princess of Hippona promises to be your confident, and do you service with the Illustrious person whom you love. Therefore I beseech you moderate your discontentments, and come receive of that generous friend the assurance I tell you of.  

This Letter, no question, gave Scipio much satisfaction; and though this Illustrious Lover did not believe the Princess of Hippona could effect much in the obliging offer she made, yet he resented some gladness from it, and sped forward more expeditiously. He next enquired in what place Laelius was, of which the slave having satisfied, and assured him he should find his Master at a place not above five or six furlongs from Capsa; he quickened his pace so diligently, that he soon reached the place where the slave told him Laelius attended him. These two Illustrious friends had no sooner expressed and performed all the ceremonies which a real and noble affection mutually incited them to; but they continued on their passage, during which Laelius told Scipio, that he should that very evening have the happiness of seeing the incomparable Aemilia. For she always departs (added he) unexpectedly from the places where she is, to avoid the expense which would be made in all Cities where she would be expected. So that you will not be surprised if you see her two day's sooner than you believed. But I know not whether you will not wonder when you see the fair Princess of Castulon with her, and the excellent Nadalia, for whom Thomira hath a great tenderness, and who will without doubt inform you of what ever you are desirous. But since we draw near to Capsa, continued Laelius, I conceive it not unfit to let you know the persons by whom you are to be entertained. Be pleased therefore to understand, that Magasba Prince of Capsa is a man of good years, and of a very high stature; that he is endued with virtue, integrity and wit, but hath such a formal and regular way of civility, that 'tis something troublesome to dispense with his Compliments. Palmira his admirable Daughter, whom the Prince of Hippo married a few months since, as you know without doubt, is but seventeen years of age. Her stature is not extremely tall, her complexion very fair, her eyes black, glittering and sprightly, her mouth hath a great loveliness in it, and her wit so lively and gallant, that it may be said the house of Magasba is as well provided of a remedy, as a disease in conversation. Laelius had scarce spoke these words, but himself and his Illustrious friend perceived themselves in sight of the Gate of Capsa, which lies on that side the City; but they were astonished when they beheld a great multitude attending them at the Gate to see them enter, and afterwards observed the Prince of Capsa, who undoubtedly had been advertised by some belonging to Laelius, advancing with some of prime note in the City, to receive the Illustrious Scipio, who at that time filled the world with the fame of his Victories and Virtues; and to do civility to Laelius, who was really a worthy friend of the Illustrious Scipio. But if this reception troubled Scipio, whose moderation was averse from all pomp, this Illustrious Roman was much more perplexed when he heard the Compliment of the Prince of Capsa. For Magasba, who never would conform to the mode of Gallantry which was then in fashion, began immediately to make the Elogium of Scipio; He did not fail to tell him that he was surprised with his goodly aspect, what ever excellent Idea he had fancied of him to himself before; he extolled the Illustrious House of Cornelii, from which Scipio is descended; and then he fell to relate the principal actions which this famous Roman had done in Italy, and to admire the Victories which he had gained in Spain and in Africa; and in brief, told him all that could be devised to perplex him. But when Scipio was going to divert the conversation he saw himself driven into another perplexity not less inconvenient, since he found himself obliged to make great remerciments to Magasba, for so are they constrained to do who have to act with persons of this humour: But as he was ready to return thanks to the Prince of Capsa for persecuting his friends, he was happy enough to behold himself at the Gate of his Palace, where the fair Princess of Hippo received him after a manner far different from that of her Father. For whilst Magasba was gone to give some orders, he had bethought himself of (for persons of this humour have always something to do) his amiable daughter entertained Scipio so admirably, that what ever she said was far from affectation, or being too much studied and fetched about, but was accompanied with a noble obliging and lovely air. My Lord, said she to him smiling, I know not whether or no the Prince have told you that his house is not handsome enough to be offered to the Illustrious Scipio, but I know I shall make you no compliment of that kind, but on the contrary promise to show you in a little time the handsomest things in the world. What I have seen already, Madam, answered he, are so handsome, that I am ravished with the sight: But I shall be more too, Madam (added he) if you have the goodness to honour me with a friendship of which Laelius hath given me hopes. Yes, Madam, said Laelius, I have told Scipio.  
Alas, Laelius (interposed she pleasingly) do not believe peace is so soon made between us, but know I will not easily forget the injury you have done me. How? Madam, answered Scipio, has Laelius disobliged you? Yes, My Lord, replied she, and moreover he hath disobliged you. And moreover, interposed Laelius smiling, I am glad I have disobliged you both, nor shall I readily repent of it. Alas! I beseech you Laelius, said Scipio agreeably, be not so fierce, and know I embrace the interests of the fair Princess of Hippo against you. But, Madam, added he, be not so fierce, addressing to this amiable person, it is requisite I know of what nature the offence is you speak of, since I am interested in it; and though I were not so, I should notwithstanding be as sensible of it as a true friend ought to be of what concerns another so fair and generous. You must know then, replied she, that Laelius made a discourse to me wherein he used all the reasons he could invent to persuade me to act in your favour, with the illustrious Aemila; but he did it with so much ardour, that I was in truth wholly incensed with it; for I account to entreat me with urgency to act for you, is in a manner to take pains to make me to act reasonably. Be pleased therefore to judge, My Lord, if there be not something offensive in the discourse of Laelius. I find something so much obliging in yours, interrupted Scipio, that I am rather inclined to render you thanks, then to be in choler against Lelius; besides, that what is in your opinion an offence, being an offence of a true friend.  
Alas, My Lord, cried she, do not deceive yourself, but believe the offences of a true friend ought to be more highly resented. But, Madam, answered Laelius pleasingly, do you deceive yourself as little in this matter, and believe I have done that which I ought to do. For according to your own censure, I have only failed, in that I entreated you urgently for such a person as Scipio, and so it seems I did injury to his merit and your generosity. However, proceeded he smiling, I must advertise you, Madam, who are yet but a new friend, that a zealous and active friendship sometimes makes us do things which seem unprofitable, for fear lest coming frequently to act with too great circumspection, we let slip some important occasion of doing a service to a friend; or else lest our friendship by becoming too nice, do not also become lukewarm and languishing. So that, Madam, added he agreeably, if you have the happiness of not being more offended in what you have further to say, you will not cause me very many enemies. Scarce had Laelius ended these words, but the Prince of Capsa came to wait upon and conduct Scipio to his Chamber. Scipio refused his ceremony as much as he could; but Magasba believing he did it out of compliment, persisted so inflexibly in his resolution, that Scipio was at length enforced to suffer himself to be conducted, what repugnance soever he had, to leave the amiable Princess of Hippo. 'Tis true, this illustrious Roman had the satisfaction of hoping he might discourse with Laelius in his Chamber concerning the divine Aemilia; but he was much perplexed, when being come thither, Magasba desired also to conduct Laelius to another which was prepared for him. Scipio and Laelius both deprecated his civility, and believed he would not be so obstinate to separate them. But it fell out otherwise; for this Prince whose ceremonies were unalterable bent to perplex them, would needs have Laelius leave Scipio's Chamber, alleging it was unfit two persons of such high condition should be lodged incommodiously. The two illustrious friends answered, that their friendship and their affairs would not permit them to be separated. But Magasba replied smiling, and shaking his head a little, that it was hard to deceive a man of his age, that he perceived well what they pretended was but a fictious civility, and that they desired to be together, only that they might take up less lodging in a house wherein a great number of other guests were expected. But they needed not trouble themselves in that respect; His Palace was larger and more commodious than it seemed to be; and in a word, if there were a necessity for any to be badly lodged, it ought not to be either Scipio or Laelius.  
These illustrious Romans endeavoured further to oppose the will of Magasba; they pressed him with reasons, and importuned him with entreaties: but all their instances were unprofitable, and Magasba retained so obstinately, whatsoever he set upon, that Scipio and Laelius, after a silent beholding of one another, as to testify how disgustful ceremonies are, at length were separated; and Laelius suffered himself to be conducted. Indeed afterwards Magasba was pleased to let them breathe and come together; for after having made a great compliment also to Laelius▪ he left him, and gave him liberty to go to the Chamber of his illustrious Friend, though not without a fear continually of meeting or being followed by Magasba: so true it is, that persons of this humour, are troublesome even in places where they are not.  
Laelius was no sooner in Scipio's Chamber, but they began to speak of the persecution of Magasba, though without much insisting on it, having many more pleasing and important matters to discourse of. For Laelius, to moderate the grief of his illustrious friend, told him all he conceived pertinent to appease his discontents, and endeavoured to persuade him he was not so unhappy as he believed himself to be. For are not you assured after all, said he to him, that Aemilia loves no person to your prejudice; and when you were upon the point of marrying that adorable Lady, did you not observe as many tokens of joy in her fair eyes as you could wish? and did not you behold in those very eyes as many tokens of discontent as you did before of joy, when a surprising and dreadful obstacle intervened to oppose your happiness? And therefore I conceive you have no cause to afflict yourself as you do. For if the gods seem to intend that Hannibal should marry Aemilia— Ah! Laelius (interrupted Scipio) rather say the gods intent it absolutely, and that they have made it sufficiently evident. This evidence which frightens you, answered Laelius, confirms me; besides, that we see no appearance that Hannibal who is ardently amorous of Thomira, should marry Aemilia whom he never saw.  
Alas! Laelius (replied Scipio) you argue ill in the matter, since you know not that the Gods when they intent to make themselves remarked for the agents, are wont to make things come to pass contrary to all appearance, to amaze humane wisdom, and to make it appear 'tis a supernatural conduct which acts and makes use of means which are remote from, and very often contrary to their end. But, Laelius (added he) should what you say be true, and should there needed only commodious disposition of affairs; yet do we not already perceive an accomplishment to my unhappiness? For in brief, if I have transferred the War into Africa, it has been rather for reason of love, as I may so say, then for reason of state: And indeed Fabius, who thought meet I should fight Hannibal in Italy, had not fewer reasons to make good his opinion, than I had to maintain mine, which was, that it was best to carry the War into the Country of the Enemy, But the Interest of my love being concerned in the business, I spoke above my ordinary force, and at length carried it from Fabius in that famous contest. But observe, Laelius, how the Gods delude our conduct, and how they punish us when we in any manner oppose what they have designed. For we have seen, since I brought the War into Africa, to draw Hannibal thither, and by that means to deprive him of all occasions of seeing the divine person which I adore, it is come to pass by a strange adventure, that Aemilia is come into Africa, and Hannibal is arrived there also soon after, as well it seems to behold that adorable person as to defend Carthage. And what can you say to this Laelius? What have you to say to the request made to me by Aemilia not to see her? which was the cause, as you know, that I waited for her upon the way, to the end she might think it was chance that gave me the happiness of seeing her? Alas! My Lord (replied Laelius) I beseech you consider the matter well, and you will perceive that the request of Aemilia is perfectly obliging, and even advantageous unto you. For since that fair person hath much inclination for you, and gives you no cause to fear your Rivals can make any benefit by your absence, it must be believed she made the request which afflicts you, only because she believed, that being at present you cannot see one another but unfortunate, you would live in less inquietude by being remote asunder. And to testify to you (added he) that this judicious person acts with great circumspection, I need only tell you, that amongst all the Romans of quality, who offered themselves to guard her, she made choice of Cato and Regulus, who as you know, have less inclination to become her Lovers, than all the rest she might have chosen. For you are not ignorant, that Cato, (as young as he is) makes profession of a wisdom which holds something of insensibility, and that Regulus bears so violent a hatred in his heart against the Carthaginians, that I am unapt to believe a contrary passion can easily find room in it. Thus you see, My Lord, you are not so unhappy as you believe yourself, in the passion which you have for the admirable Aemilia, since that fair person acts both prudently and to your advantage. And if you are not unhappy in the passion which you have for Aemilia, are not you happy in that which you have for glory? For without going about to give you my applauses, and exciting you to interrupt me immedately; Is it not true, that you have not seen in History any man that has done what you have already? and if you come to vanquish Hannibal in one decessive battlel, will not yours outshine the glory of all those that have preceded you? Alas, Laelius, answered Scipio, I have yet done nothing that entitles me to a great name; but for what you say of Hannibal, added he fiercely, I will either overcome him, or I will not be in a condition after the battle of hearing that he has overcome me. All the beginnings (replied Laelius) are favourable to you; for we see the Carthaginians are not confirmed by the powerful alliances which they have made, nor even by the arrival of the great Captain who has overcome us so often in Italy, when you were not our General. And therefore they are instant, as you know, about that brave deputation they prepare in order to treat a Peace with you, or at least a truce, which may dispose matters to some accommodement. For in truth, added he smiling, they will have no more to do with you, who are always so obstinate to carry the advantage; and they are certainly in greater fear, when 'tis told them Scipio is coming to see them, than our women sometimes had, when it was told them Hannibal was at the Gates. Besides this (continued he seriously) you have gallant Forces well disciplined: You have several Romans under you, who deserve to be Generals wherever you are not; and you have this advantage to be as much in quiet at Capsa; as to what concerns the Army, as if you were in the middle of your own Camp. You have also left your Lieutenants, Aemilius, Marcellus, and Flaminius', to command there, whose prudence and courage is beyond all exception, who are all good Soldiers, and great Captains, each of which bears revenge in his heart for the death of an illustrious Father. As for what regards the Auxiliary forces, if Hannibal has for his Allies Antiochus, King of Syria, Philip King of Macedonia, and Prusias, King of Bythinia; you have Ptolemy King of Egypt, Attalus King of Asia, and our brave and dear Masanissa, whom I cannot believe to have committed the crime report accused him of. Ah! Laelius (interrupt- Scipio) I have seen Masanissa with Hannibal. With Hannibal! cried Laelius, and you seen him there? Yes, replied Scipio, and thereupon he related to him part of what had befallen him upon the way to Capsa. But though he recounted the adventure with very much reservation, yet Laelius discerned cause enough to admire the heroical comportment of his illustrious friend, when he considered with what generosity he had fought for Hannibal, and with what generosity he afterwards undertook the combat against him. But having expressed some Tokens of Admiration for these two actions of Scipio, he told him he could give some light to the adventure of Masanissa. The King of the Massessilians and myself, proceeded he, were at the head of four thousand men which you had given me to lead to Tacapa, that they might reinforce the Garrison of a place whither Hannibal perhaps might come in a few days. When we were not far from Tacapa, Masanissa, who had always a strong passion for Sophonisba, and was always telling me of the charms of that fair Queen, desired to go to a little Temple of the Sun, which is not much distant from Leptis, that he might there learn something by the answer of the god, which might give him some light in reference to what he either desired or feared. But for that he carried with him only four or five Cavaliers; 'tis likely the Scouts of Hannibal's Army might have set upon him and taken him prisoner, And therefore you ought not to wonder, added he, that Hannibal and Masanissa were seen together. Since in all probability the Carthaginian craft may have treated the King of the Massessilians obligingly, to draw him to his party, or perhaps Hannibal & Masanissa, being both generous, generosity may have induced them to act in the same manner, as if they were really friends. But, however it be, I believe Masanissa will never withdraw himself from the interests of Rome; so that we have nothing to consider of but how to draw him out of the hands of our Enemies, either by ransom or exchange, that we may afterwards know the circumstances of Sophonisba's death, of which I cannot believe him culpable. Now you see, added he, what resolution you are to take in relation to the King of the Massessilians; but for what concerns the interest of your passion, the Princess of Hippo and myself will be no unactive instruments.  
As for your Army, I conceive you must expect to make a new resolution till after the Treaty of the Carthaginians, and in the mean time you may well enough repose yourself upon the cares of Aemilius, Marcellus, and Flaminius'; scarce had Laelius finished these words, but a great noise was heard in the Court of the Palace, and soon after a slave of the Princess of Hippo entered into Scipio's Chamber to advertise the two illustrious friends that Aemilia, who was not look for till two hours after was arrived, being attended with a sufficient train of Horsemen. Upon this summons Scipio and Laelius descended down into a low Hall, where it was told them the Princess of Hippo was. As soon as Palmira perceived them, she testified the joy to them which she had for the arrival of Aemilia. And as Scipio and Laelius gave her the hand to go meet that illustrious Roman Lady, and were come into the fore-Court of the Palace, they beheld a number of Horsemen, who being already lighted, had ranked themselves on two sides, and holding the point of their Javelius downwards, seemed to testify by that respectful action that some very considerable person was to pass by. And accordingly, immediately after, Palmira, Scipio, and Laelius, were come forth of the Palace, they beheld the incomparable Aemilia, and that with admiration, notwithstanding they had been accustomed to see her. For it must be confessed, the beauty of this illustrious person had a surprising brightness, that immedeately and perpetually charmed the spectators. Her stature was very hand some and portly; her carriage had something of facility & Majesty mixed together, which might be easily observed at that time. For this admirable Lady came forth from her Chariot as soon as ever she beheld Magasba, who did not fail to go meet her. But neither the stature nor the carriage of Aemilia were the greatest charms she had. For this admirable person had the purest, liveliest, and radiant complexion that can be imagined. Her eyes were bluish, well opened and very sweet; her mouth was the most lovely thing that could be looked upon; her Hair was fair and admirably graceful; and of all these perfections joined together arose a surprising lustre, as I said before, or rather certain beams irradiated forth which penetrated hearts, and exciting love and pleasure in them, whilst they filled the mind with respect and admiration: Aemilia then, being such as I have described her, and a thousand times fairer, immediately stirred up a thousand inquietudes in the breast of Scipio, which did not cease to be violent by being pleasing. So that this illustrious Roman was every moment upon the point to cast himself at the feet of that adorable person, and to testify the greatness of his passion to her by his extraordinary transports. But having a great soul and an infinite respect for Aemilia, and time to repress his impetuous inclinations, he composed himself and subdued the violence of his passion. He resummoned up part of his reason, during the time Palmira was performing the civilities to Aemilia, which esteem and affection suggested to her, which she accompanied notwithstanding with a submissiveness, which the greatest Princesses at that time owed to persons of Aemilia's condition; And whilst Aemilia on the other side, according to her obliging humour, returned to Palmira all the expressions of goodness which she ought to a Princess of great merit, and a person whom she loved with tenderness. Not but that Aemilia also resented some trouble at the sight of Scipio; for it was impossible to behold that illustrious Lover so amiable, passionate and fruitful, with insenfiblility. But this incomparable Lady having a firm soul, did not appear any thing at all disturbed at it; and if she gave any tokens of that little commotion which she resented, 'twas only by a little more colour which arose in her countenance, and served only to render it more graceful and lovely. After having performed the civilities which this trouble did not hinder her from doing, she presented a fair young Lady to Palmira, who by her open and gallant air, and an agreeable and sprightly aspect, was immediately known to be that lovely Nadalia, so dearly beloved by the Princess of Castulon. After which Palmira beginning to speak; In truth, Madam, said she to Aemilia, with an air perfectly agreeable, I do not wonder you have taken this fair young Lady from the Princess Thomira; and I should have no means of acknowledging the favour you do me in making her known to me: If I had not two illustrious Friends to present to you (continued she, presenting Scipio and Laelius to her) but two illustrious friends, added she smiling, whom perhaps you know already. Though I were not myself a Roman, answered Aemilia, yet I should not be ignorant of two Romans, whose valour has extended their reputation throughout the whole world. Ah! Madam, answered the passionate Scipio, I should be happy if you knew me by a quality which is more glorious unto me, and which I esteem much more than the most excellent I can have besides. You have so excellent (replied she blushing a little) that you have no cause to complain, though you should be known by them without any distinction. But, Scipio (proceeded she, to divert the discourse) if you please to point me, I shall present to you Palmira, two friends of mine. In saying which, she presented two young Romans to the Princess of Hippo, of which the first, who seemed to have some slowness in his deportment, and a kind of coldness in his countenance, besides something of gravity and severity, was presently known to be that famous Porcius, who was not long before styled by the surname of Cato. And the other, whose aspect was more facile and gallant, though he had something of fierceness in his countenance, was Regulus, Son of that unfortunate Attilius Regulus, whose death is so rumoured in the world. After these two Romans had made their reverence to Palmira, they did the like to Scipio, and were likewise embraced by Laelius; and then all this illustrious Company entered into the Palace of Nagasba. This Prince gave the hand of Aemilia, Scipio and Laelius●ead ●ead Palmira; Cato and Regulus, Nadalia; and the Ladies that attended these three fair persons followed altogether with some Roman Officers, and some of the most considerable inhabitants of Capsa. In which manner they accompanied Aemilia to the door of her Chamber, when being come, all the men made a profound reverence to that admirable person, and retired. Palmira and Nadalia only entered in with that illustrious Roman; Yet they continued not long there, for after some gallant and obliging discourse, wherein Palmira did not omit to accuse herself of procuring the happiness to Scipio which he lately received; they went forth of the Chamber, having first called those of Aemilia's attendants, whose service might be necessary unto her. After which, Palmira offered to conduct the fair Nadalia into a Chamber: but this young Lady having no need of reposing herself, and only rectifying something about her head-tire, they descended into a low Hall, where they found Laelius, Cato, and Regulus, who were walking there, whilst Magasba lead Scipio into a Garden, to show him the handsomeness of the Alleys, Statues, Grottoes, and Fountains. The conversation which was then made between Palmira, Nadalia, Laelius, Cato and Regulus, was absolutely pleasing and gallant; for these five persons were of rare address capacities, and politeness. And what rendered this conversation more agreeable was, that the greatest part of their wits were different, and had their particular excellencies. Those of Palmira and Laelius were gallant and Noble; that of Nadalia sprightly and mirthful; that of Regulus partaking of both; and Cato had in his something so cold and severe, that it was great pleasure to see him in contestation with Nadalia, with whom he did not not very often agree. But it being upon the Princess of Hippo to pass the first honours, she conceived herself also obliged to begin the discourse, which she did in these words, addressing to the three Romans which were with her: If you are deprived of the happiness of being with the illustrious Aemilia, the beauty and wit of Nadalia will cause you to induce that loss with less regret. Alas! Madam, interrupted that admirable Lady, I beseech you cause not these persons eyes to be turned upon me, where you are present; and be pleased not to attribute those blandishments to me which I do not deserve. Hindering me from speaking out what I intended (replied Pallmira) you prevented me from comforting you for the same loss, by making you hope very much satisfaction from the conversation of three illustrious Romans, who have rare qualifications of ingenuity. Speak of yourself, if you please, Madam, (answered Laelius) and you will speak with justice. And you will give less offence to Nadalia (added Cato) who loves not to hear the Romans commended, of whom she hath conceived so strange an opinion, that she takes them all for Cato's. Alas! Cato (interrupted this admirable Lady) I do not that favour to all the Romans; and if I have sometimes had an unkind opinion of them, you ought to forget what I ever said out of that prejudice, since from the time I knew the Romans, I have infinitely esteemed them. And moreover, added she smiling, I may say I am now perfectly reconciled to Rome, and am extremely glad of being so: for in truth my imagination was tired out with contending every day against that powerful City. But it would be known (said Palmira, after having laughed at this speech of Nadalia) how you could do otherwise then esteem a people who in the judgement of all others is endued with virtue, wit and valour.  
To tell you the truth, answered Nadalia, and according to the liberty permitted me every where to speak of things according to the apprehension I have of them; I conceived indeed the Romans had virtue really, but that their virtue was nothing at all lovely: on the contrary: I believed it was so rigid and severe, that it never beheld joy and divertisements without discontent and inquietude. If I believed the Romans valiant (proceeded she) I thought they were so by wit rather than greatness of courage; that they adventured upon dangers, because they were constrained to it; and if they lost their lives rather than commit an ignoble act or a cowardice, it was only because they looked upon infamy as something more terrible than death.  
And in a word, added she smiling, I imagined the glory the Romans fought for, not to be a beautiful Virgin, lovely and resplendent, but a Woman of a good age, severe and Majestical. As for wit, I believed none of the Romans destitute, and that their wit was cultivated and polished, but not well contrived; that it was a dry wit, (if I may so speak) and averse from all jollity and gallantry. And in fine, added she smiling, I imagined the Romans so enamoured on their Country, that in their conversations they never uttered other pleasantnesses but political Maxims.  
But, fair Nadalia, said Regulus to her, the first Roman whom you knew, was not, I conceive of that severe humour. That was yourself, Regulus (answered she) who convinced me of my prejudice at Saguntum. Not but that before I ever see you (continued she smiling) I violently dreaded your conversation, and that more than I should have feared that of Cato or Fabritius. I beseech you earnestly (said Regulus agreeably) tell me what it was that so terribly affrighted you. 'Twas because (answered she) I believed you a greater lover of Rome, than all the other Romans, and consequently more severe and political. You pronounce very confidently in favour of Regulus (said Palmira) without declaring your reason. 'Tis easy to render it (answered Nadalia) for if it be reasonable (added she smiling) to measure the love of a man by the hatred he bears his Rivals; may not I conclude that Regulus loves Rome more than all the Romans besides, since he hates Carthage more than then they all do, which I have heard a hundred times termed the Rival of Rome? But Nadalia, take care what you say, (interposed Cato, smiling a little) for according to what you asserted first, it will follow that Carthage should be the Rival of Regulus, and not of Rome.  
You have suffered me to proceed a long time without reproving me, answered Nadalia with her accustomed pleasantness, but take heed yourself (continued she with the same air) and know, that what would not be exact speaking in the mouth of Cato, is very tolerable in that of Nadalia; and after all, it suffices that Regulus hates Carthage more than you do, to give me ground to infer that he loves Rome more than you do, as much Cato as you are. Nadalia pronounced these last words so agreeably, having uttered them with a little pleasing commotion, that all the company smiled thereat. After which Laelius beginning to speak, I perceive Nadalia (said he to her) you have need of my friendship, because you agree but ill with Cato, and not exceeding well with Regulus. For which reasons I offer it to you, without expecting till you desire it of me, and I will use all means to make it acceptable unto you. For I will renounce in your presence all sort of affairs. And since the hatred of Regulus (added he smiling) has not made a good impression in your mind, to give you better for my humour, I shall never speak to you but of love. In truth, answered she smiling, you will perhaps do me a greater pleasure than you believe, provided this last but two or three days; for during that time a quite contrary conversation becomes vehemently fastidious to me: and I dare affirm, the illustrious Aemilia hath made me despair. For when I went about to speak to her concerning Scipio, she in treated me to forbear, but it was with such a touching sweetness as would have constrained the most rebellious heart in the world to obey her: so that I was deprived of the satisfaction I should have had of performing a good office in some measure to a person, who being so young a Conqueror, is nevertheless extremely virtuous, and infinitely amiable. But Laelius (continued she smiling) since you have begun to make me obliging proposals in public, it is fit you speak of Love in General, though it were only to do displeasure to the persons with whom you give me notice, I am not upon good terms. Forbearing to speak in particular (answered he, I shall do all that you please, and maintain against all your Enemies, that there is nothing more powerful, nothing more noble and advantageous than love. And I shall prove (interposed Regulus pleasantly) that what you say of Love, may be with more justice attributed to hatred. But to make the conversation more handsome (answered Nadalia) it is requisite that you speak seriously, as also that Cato declare himself, and take his turn; and when you have all three given your opinions, the judgement of the difference shall be referred to the Princess. I consent to the conditions, said Laelius; and I do the same, added Regulus; my submission then to the proposal shall follow, agreed Cato. But it must be known (said Nadalia to him) whether you will defend Love or Hatred? I shall speak against both (answered he) But Nadalia (said the Princess of Hippo) I will not decide this debate, or at least, not without your judgement. It is necessary that you do it, Madam, answered she, for not to make the Elogium of your wit, I can only say for myself, that I am suspected in this matter. Well then, Nadalia, replied the Princess, to avoid a new dispute which would arise betwixt you and me: I will do what you desire, though on condition that after I shall have declared my judgement, you tell your own without dissimulation or compliance. I shall obey your pleasure, (answered she.)  
To begin therefore to speak of Love, said Laelius, I shall assert, that we have nothing more powerful, nothing more advantageous or noble, than the excellent passion I speak of. We see Love is a God, and a God so powerful, that he hath subdued all the rest to his Empire, and who, that he might triumph generally over all, hath overcome himself, and sometimes sighed after the fair Psyche. And if it be true, proceeded he, that Division of what nature soever, is a thing absolutely destructive; is it not just to affirm that we have nothing more advantageous than Love, which is a passion that preserves all things while it unites them? And indeed, was it not Love that established civil society amongst the first men? Was it not love that afterwards incited them to elegancy of life, and teaches us every day to live as much for others as for ourselves? But these are not all the effects of love; for if virtue makes itself to be beloved, it must be love that inspires it, since love seeks always to extend itself in the heart of the beloved person. Moreover we see every day this excellent passion gives courage to the Pufillanimous, moderates the fierceness of Conquerors, opens the Purse of the Covetous, and daily inspires us with such excellent sentiments, that we may in a manner say, that Nature by giving us Being only, makes us living Creatures; but 'tis love which afterwards renders us reasonable. In truth (said Regulus, when he perceived Laelius had no more to say) I am in a strange perplexity, being obliged to answer a person of a transcendent wit. It lies upon me to speak in commendation of hatred before the beautiful persons who ought extremely to abhor it, since they look upon the contrary passion every day as an effect of their beauty; and in brief, I must be the Patron and Protector of a thing whose only name seems presently odious.  
But since it cannot be evident, continued he agreeably, I shall maintain that Hatred is more powerful, more advantageous, and more noble then Love. And in effect, Is it not true, that there is more evil than good in the world? that Grief acts more vigorously than Joy? and that Poisons deprive us of a life, which remedies are unable to restore?  
If this be true, as is not to be doubted; Is it not also true, that the passion which withdraws from all these things I mentioned, aught to be more powerful and advantageous then that which leads us to good, which is usually found more weak than evil, as I said before? I might hereunto add a hundred other particulars to the advantage of Hatred; but I shall content myself with answering what Laelius hath spoken in the commendation of Love. I observe then, that he said Love is a God, and a God that hath subdued all the other Deities to his Empire. Nevertheless also I observe it may be answered, that that very God may as well bear the name of the God of Hatred. And indeed, does he not shoot as many Arrows headed with lead, which produce hatred in the breasts they touch, as he does of those which are pointed with Gold, which inflames the hearts which they wound; and consequently causing as much hatred as love, he might assume the name of the former of these Passions, if perhaps the people had not been at first dazzled with the effects of the richer metal, or at least if they had not conceived some greater pleasure in naming them, then in naming Hatred, which was produced by a metal not esteemed of. For in truth, one of these Passions does not satisfy more than the other; and I believe a person that hates, pleases himself as much in his aversion, as a person that Love finds satisfaction in reflecting on his affection. Therefore let Laelius change his opinion, and let him no longer say, That 'tis Love rather then Hatred which established civil society by uniting our forefathers together; that love hath induced us to politeness of manners, and taught us liberality, and the way to act for the interest of others. For, as for my part, I believe Hatred produced these excellent effects, and think it not difficult to be proved. For be pleased, Ladies, to imagine the world without society and civil manners; you will soon apprehend how men continuing in Deserts without union and order, would kill one another like Tigers and Leopards; but you will also see that coming by degrees to conceive a hatred against such disorder, they will unite to preserve themselves, they will build Cities to secure themselves from the attempts of strangers, and constitute punishments against those that shall cause disturbance amongst them. Thus you see, Hatred will establish civil Society. And let it not be objected to me, that this proceeds rather from the love we bear ourselves, which causes to unite for our own conversation, since on the contrary 'twas that self-love which caused all the former disorder: for the strong would never go about to oppress the weak, if he were not desirous to ravish from him what he sees him possess; so that it may be said, 'tis that self-love which caused division and hatred that has afterwards established civil society. But this is not all the advantage which we receive from Hatred. For after having established society, it hath also taught us the means to preserve it: for (that as in the primitive confusion) men hurt and killed one another; it behoved them in society to act one for another, whereby they have made a kind of act of doing good offices, and obliging generously.  
Moreover, I affirm, that Nature has made us more rational by giving us Hatred, then by giving us Love, since we have more evil to encounter with (as I said) then good to pursue; and it is necessary first to overcome the evil that we may afterwards attain the good; as no question, it behoveth first to conquer our Enemies, before we can enjoy the sweetnesses of the victory. Thus you have (added Regulus) what I had to plead in defence of a passion, which has not so many Patrons as it ought, & whose very name oftentimes affrightens persons who knows not the nature of it. In truth (said Laelius) I am highly pleased it fell to me to speak first, for having heard Regulus, how much better soever my cause be, I should be strangely perplexed, if I were in the place of Cato. You would not be so, answered Cato, if you were really in my place; since you would not resent the troubles which the passions excite, or at least you would not be obliged to speak in their commendation, and extol the source of all mischiefs, and the cause of all irregularities. For in brief, 'tis reason which ought to guide a man, and 'tis the violence of passions which clouds his reason, and causes a man not to deport himself as a man. Cato held his peace after these words: but because 'twas known he was naturally inclined to silence, it was the custom to ask questions, or propose Objections to him to draw him to speak. Wherefore Lelius taking this course: How, Cato? (said he to him) do you content yourself with speaking those few words against the passions? Have not I said enough (answered he) when I told you 'twas they which hindered a man from acting like a man, and termed them the source of all irregularities?  
But we may say also (replied Lelius) that they are the source of very many virtues: For we see daily, Fear renders us prudent, by making us foresee the Evils which threatens us, and boldness makes Conquerors. I know well (answered Cato) that the Passions sometimes conduce to the purposes you speak of: but it falls out so seldom, that they lead us to Virtue, and so often, that they carry us to Vice, that in truth I should be loath to make use of their assistance. As in case I were to sight a battle (added he) I should not be very glad to serve myself of Soldiers whom I saw inclinable to revolt against me, and readier to tear me in pieces, then to make me carry the victory. But yet it must be confessed (said Regulus) that the virtues which serve to govern the Passions, would be no longer in the world, if you should banish thence the motions which they ought to regulate. I acknowledge it, answered Cato, but you must also grant me, that in this case we should suffer no damage. For since the Virtues you speak of, serve only to govern the Passions, they would become vuprofitable in the world after there were no longer any Passion in it: so that we should in a manner be satisfied for the loss of them on this condition, as we should be assuredly ravished with joy for having no physical remedies in the world, provided there were also no diseases. what you say, is unquestionably ingenious (said Regulus) but I find an impossibility in the thing; for I do not believe it possible to root up the Passions out the heart of man.  
If we cannot wholly pull them up by the roots (answered Cato) we may at least pull up all that germinates from thence, provided it be done speedily, and they be not permitted to grow vigorous and gather too great strength. Cato spoke no further; and Lelius and Regulus knowing his humour, did not attempt to oblige him to speak more, so that it now came to the Princess Palmira (notwithstanding all her refusals) to give her judgement concerning these contrary sentiments which she had heard delivered. She endeavoured indeed, before she would pronounce to draw forth the opinion of Nadalia; but this amiable Virgin opposed it so resolutely, though withal very civilly, that Palmira was constrained to pronounce without it, which yet was not tell she had first engaged Nadalia to declare her own sentiments afterwards, without dissimulation or compliance. This little contestation being ended, silence was made, during which, the fair Princess of Hippo looked upon the three Romans, who expected to be judged by her, and then told them that Lelius had spoken extreme gallantly, that Regulus had contrived his reasons in a very ingenious manner, but that there was more wisdom and safety in following the sentiments of Cato. Palmira had no sooner ended these few words, but Laelius and Regulus were satisfied with them, and returned her thanks.  
But that which seemed extraordinary and unexpected in this occasion, was, that Cato, who was the most obliged to Palmira, continued in his wont coldness, without making any remorciment at all to the fair Princess. Upon which, Laelius, who was of an open and gallant address, could not suffer Cato to use this severity; but being they were familiar and intimate, 'tis strange to me (said he to him) that you have not thanked the Princess Palmira for preferring your sentiments before ours. And I find it more strange (answered Cato, without being moved) that you give the Princess of Hippo thanks for speaking what she thinks. We give her thanks (replied Laelius) because she thinks and speaks things to our advantage. The Princess Palmira (answered Cato) being a just person, thinks and speaks so only, because she believes you deserve she should; so that her sentiments not giving you any merit, and only declaring, to speak the truth, that you are deserving, you are more obliged (if I may so speak) to your own merit, since 'tis that which produces those advantageous sentiments in Palmira of you. We know well, said Regulus to Cato, that you do not want reasons to maintain your severe humour. But, believe me, Cato, 'tis always a severe humour, and consequently not so lovely as the pleasantness of Nadalia, who is engaged to speak after the Princess of Hippo. Fair Nadalia (added Laelius, turning towards this lovely Virgin) tell us with freedom and sincerity, as you promised, whether your judgement be conformable to that of the Princess Palmira. To speak in the manner required of me (answered she with an air perfectly pleasing, and addressing to the company in general) I shall tell you, that Laelius and Regulus have spoken very rationally, and that according to what I have heard, their sentiments are not so contrary as they seem. As for those of Cato, it is impossible that I should approve them. For indeed, one, but the least cause of our contrary opinions, is the diversity of our humours; but besides, added she smiling, if only insensibility were required to wisdom, I believe a Rock would be a great Philosopher, and a Tree wiser than Cato.  
At these words of Nadalia, the company expressed a smile of approbation; and some of them telling Cato, they wondered a person so ingenious should not approve these opinions; I had rather, answered he, it should be wondered why witty persons approve not my sentiments, then why they do. As Cato was speaking these words, Scipio and Magasba entered into the Hall, and changed the conversation; where after they had spoken of divers matters, and Palmira was told by one of her Attendants, that they might go up to Aemilia's Chamber without disturbing her; all this illustrious company went up thither; saving Maga●ba, who by good fortune was drawn otherwhere to take care for something which he conceived wanting to that exact and troublesome civility of which he made profession. But Aemilia being recovered of her weakness, and beholding Magasba's Garden from her Chamber window, she declared her desire to go and walk there, upon which all this noble company readily accompanied this admirable Lady thither. Cato gave the hand to Aemilia, which Scipio presumed not to do out of respect, but lead Palmira, as Laelius and Regulus did Nadalia, to whom they told a thousand divertising things although very contrary. For Laelius always▪ spoke to her as a friend, and Regulus as an enemy, to render the conversation more agreeable, founding that enmity upon the opinion which Nadalia sometimes had of him before she knew him. Aemilia and Cato had without doubt an excellent Discourse, but after a prudent and serious manner; and the illustrious Scipio entertained the amiable Palmira only with the violent passion he had for the adorable Lady which he saw walk before him. The Princess of Hippo was really affected with the expressions of Scipio, and therefore being willing to do a service to that illustrious Lover, she insensibly drew Aemilia into an Alley which ended in a fair Grotto, on both sides of which were two little Arbours of Jasmine. Nadalia, Laelius, and Regulus amused themselves in beholding the Grotto; and when Aemilia, Palmira, Scipio, and Cato, were entered into one of those Arbours, Laelius began to dispute very loud against Nadalia, upon the first thing she spoke, and then went into the A●bor where Aemilia was, to cause Cato to come forth. In truth (said he, as his was entering) I think we are to day designed to nothing but dispute; and therefore, Ladies, it is necessary that you give us Cato to judge of our differences, since it cannot be objected that he is a passionate Judge; and moreover, added he agreeably, our company hath more need of wisdom than yours. The fair Aemilia, who nothing doubted the little treason intended against her, and beheld herself with the Princess of Hippo, did not oppose Laelius' desire; but answered pleasingly, that if she had known of their being already so high in contest, she would have contributed all her endeavours to the composing of their differences. And I wonder, Madam, (added she pleasingly, turning towards Palmira) that you have not put an end to their debates which you caused to arise rise amongst them.  
I know not very well (answered she) whether I have wanted power, or a will to do it. For power, replied Aemilia, I will not do that injury to the persons amongst whom the dispute is we speak of, to believe they will not submit to your sentiments; nor on the other side, will I accuse you of not having been willing to bring matters to an accommodement. Alas, Madam (replied Palmira) I was not much solicitous of doing what you speak of; for, besides that I was willing to hear handsome Discouses, I had an accommodement to make which was of greater importance. Palmira in speaking these words, looked upon Aemilia in such a manner, that this Roman understood what she intended to intimate; so that she would not answer to a Discourse, the continuance of which she did not desire.  
But the passionate Scipio not being able to moderate his transports at the sight of so many charms, cast himself at Aemilia's feet, and told that Admirable person without her being able to interrupt him, all that a violent and respectful passion could inspire him with to move her. No, no, Madam (said he to her) you must not persist in this cruel inflexibleness which causes all my torment; but you ought at least to listen to a Princess who would intercede in my favour with you. I beseech you, Scipio (answered this fair person) moderate your passions, or rather augment that which you have, for glory, to the end you may weaken that which serves only to trouble your quiet, and accuse not of your unhappiness a person who is herself in danger of becoming the most unhappy in the world. Therefore (continued she, rising up) you ought only to think of overcoming the fierce enemy of the Romans: And in the mean time Scipio, (added she, offering to go forth) believe I shall not perhaps have more zeal to pray the Gods in behalf of my Country, and my Brother, than I shall have to make vows for your preservation and your glory. She was going out as she ended these words; but Scipio retained her, and then beholding her with eyes which spoke sufficiently both his love and his discontent. How? Madam (said he to her) have you the cruelty to forsake the Princess of Hippo, without hearing what she hath to say to you. In the name of the Gods, Scipio (answered she, with a suppliant action and infinitely affecting) do not oppose what I am desirous of. And you, Madam (added she, turning towards Palmira) be pleased to have the goodness to pardon me the incivility which I am enforced to commit; and believe, I beseech you, that you would not accuse me of injustice, if you knew the reasons for which I act in this manner. You must then, if you please, Madam (answered Palmira) do me the favour to let me know them, and to permit Laelius to recount me the History of his Illustrious friend (which he dares not do without your consentment) to the end I may afterwards act equitably both for you and Scipio. I consent to it (replied she going forth) and I am glad you will by that means learn that I have done for Scipio whatever gratitude obliged me to, or virtue permitted me.  
After these words, all the Company joined together again, and Palmira failed not to acquaint Laelius with the consent she had obtained of Aemilia; so that (added she) I shall not suffer you in quiet till you have satisfied my curiosity. I shall satisfy it when you please (answered he to her) and shall be glad to let you know two Illustrious persons who are not known to you now but imperfectly.  
As she ended these words, the Prince of Capsa came among this fair company, and continued with them till he judged it time for supper. Their repast was completely magnificent; and after a short conversation, Aemilia was accompanied to her Chamber, and Nadalia to hers by Palmira, into which the Princess entered, and caused Laelius to enter too. Who knowing the intentions of these two fait persons, and Aemilia's pleasure that Nadalia should hear the particularities of her life, seated himself down by them. And though this famous Roman was termed among others by the names of the wise and knowing, yet he understood so well how to accommode his knowledge and wisdom, that he did not appear less gallant and debonair among the Ladies, than he was otherwhere a Warrior, politic and virtuous. He began his relation in these words, addressing it to Palmira only, as Nadalia had entreated him to do.   

The History of SCIPIO and AEMILIA.  
EXpect not, Madam, to hear in the beginning of my Discourse, that kind of Proem which they generally use who are to recount a History. They are want to promise great matters to gain the attention of those that hear them; they pick out high words to show their excellent wit, and never fail to excuse themselves that their eloquence is short of the subject they are to treat of. For my part, Madam, I account it not material for me to make use of these Artifices; for besides that, I believe that the names of Scipio and Aemilia, promise at first all that can be imagined great, I conceive it would be needless for me to take pains to win the attention of a Princess, who without doubt would not have commanded me to speak, if she intended not to listen to what I have to say. As for high language, Madam, I presume you will readily dispense with me; for besides that, it shows some violence and enforcement in him that uses it, yet it too much takes up the hearers, who oftentimes heedlessly let important matters pass by, and even some which being necessary to the body of the History, it is impossible afterwards to dis-intricate adventures. But, Madam, I shall yet less serve myself of the excuses which I now condemned: for to tell you things as I apprehend them, if I were eloquent, I should be so far from being sorry that my eloquence were short of the subject that I speak of, that I would repress it in case it offered to lift up itself, and keep it under, as I may so speak, to the end there might be nothing in my discourse that might divert part of an attention which I would have wholly bestowed on the things I should speak, and not on the words I made use of to express them. For what can be heard more satisfactory to the mind, and capable to fill it with excellent Ideas, than the relation I am going to make, whether you consider that greatness of birth in the persons I am to speak of, or admire the rare qualities of their bodies and minds, or be affected with the sentiments of an heroic soul; or lastly, desire to hear surprising events related, which seem destinated only to cause revolutions in the lives of extraordinary persons? But, Madam, lest you should apprehend me guilty of the fault I decry, it behoves me to enter upon the matter, and to let you know that Scipio is of the Illustrious race of the Cornelii, which has always been so fruitful in great men, that 'tis not without cause the surname of Scipio has been given them, which signifies in our language a Prop, or stay, since assuredly the Cornelii hath ever supported our Republic, and defended it courageously against all the enemies that have attaqued it. Nevertheless I may say, since all the world believes and publishes it, that the Illustrious Scipio has yet a higher descent, and is Son of the great Gods. For you have heard, I imagine, that jupiter was seen under the form of a great Dragon in the Chamber of the Mother of this Illustrious Roman, as 'tis reported he was sometimes seen in that of Olympias the mother of Alexander. And that which may in some measure persuade us, that Scipio is the son of jupiter, or at least as worthy to be so as the famous King of Macedonia is; that Scipio is extremely pious, endued with all virtues, and blemished with no defect; that being not born upon the Throne, he is risen by his virtue to the supreme authority which he possesses, that he has already done things in Europe and Africa which will astonish posterity; and that if he happens to defeat Hannibal in a decisive battle, he will have done more than ever Alexander did.  
There is yet a difference between these two great men, which is, that the King of Macedonia would peremptorily have had the whole world treated him as the Son of jupiter, and on the contrary the whole world would have treated Scipio in that manner, if himself had not opposed it.  
It is true, this famous Roman has taken no extreme care to root this belief absolutely out of the minds of people, but it has only been out of respect to the glory of Rome; for he believed the Soldiers would fight with a higher confidence, if they conceived they fought under a Son of jupiter, and would take themselves to be invincible when they beheld a Demy-God in the head of them. But, Madam, intending only to speak of Scipio as of a great man, and the Son of Publius. Scipio, who lost his life gloriously in Spain at the winning of a great field, I shall omit to tell you of the prodigies that were seen at Rome on the day of his birth, which caused us to presage good fortune to our Commonwealth, and of those that were also observed at Carthage, which had a contrary effect. For 'tis reported that the day on which Scipio was born, according to the supputation that has been made of it, the Tongue of Land on which Carthage is built was perceived to tremble, and that Eagles were seen entering into the houses of the Suffetii, who as you know, have the same authority in Carthage that the Consuls have in Rome. But for that all these Prodigies, which are nothing but extraordinary signs of things not common, would not much divert you; I shall prefer to tell you things more essential to Scipio, and which will certainly be more agreeable and pleasing to you.  
After having spoken of the house of the Cornelii, it may seem convenient before further proceeding in my relation, to say something of that of the Aemilii, being as well to recount to you the life of the Illustrious Aemilia, as that of the Grand Scipio. The first therefore that bore the name of Aemilius, was according to an opinion sufficiently authentic, a Son of the famous Pythagoras, named Marcus, to whom the name of Aemilius was given by reason of his eloquence. This Marcus after the death of his Illustrious Father, who, as all the world knows, came out of Greece into Italy, went to inhabitate at Rome, where he established the Aemilis. But, Madam, there is yet something more of Grandeur in the Original of this Illustrious House: for according to several inquisitive Antiquaries, the Aemilii is descended from that famous Aemilia, daughter of Aenaeas and Lavinia, who was of such admirable beauty, that Mars himself became amorous of her. And the Hero that was the issue of that affection, was not Romulus, as some would have it, but the first of the Aemilii, who having no father upon earth, bore the name of his Illustrious Mother, and caused these words to be engraven on the Gate of his Palace in our language, which signify, We are from Mars.  
Behold therefore, Madam, what are the Houses of the Cornelii and the Aemilii, which have given us the Illustrious Scipio, and the admirable Aemilia. As for the education of the fair person I named last, I shall not insist upon the particularities of it, but content myself to tell you, that Publius, who was undoubtedly an excellent person, omitted not to breed up Scipio nobly. For himself trained him up in all his exercises at home; and then caused him to be taught the Sciences, and also sent him to Greece to perfect and polish his mind.  
It was my happiness that my Father sent me hither too at the same time; so that it was at Athens where I began to contract that friendship with Scipio which is so taken notice of in the world, and will unquestionably be the sole advantage that will make me known to posterity. But if the Romans admired the wit of Scipio, I may say the Greeks were astonished at it: all the excellent persons that were at that time at Athens, resorted to Scipio's lodgings, either to make conversation with him, or to take his sentiments for the works which were then writ in Greece. And to show you that Scipio's mind is none of those narrow ones, who cannot addict themselves but to one science, or to one kind of writing: I have only one thing to tell you that all the world knows already. You may please then to know, Madam, that Ermius, who was at that time at Athens, and who began there to write Latin Verses in imitation of the Greeks, and to bring our Poetry into the world which our Fathers never before attempted; began also to ingratiate himself with Scipio, and to show him his Works before he durst publish them to the world. But if Scipio were admirably accurate in judging the Works of Ermius, which have a style majestical and rough, he did not judge with less exquisiteness of the ageeable Comedies which Terence began to compose at that time, and used to bring to him himself, and which had a certain air so easy, natural, and gallant, that all the ingenious love them with an extreme passion. But this was not all the attraction of Scipio's wit, to draw persons of different humours and contrary Nations to him, as I told you; for he alured even the Greeks themselves, who lived not at Athens. Polybius quitted Megalopolis, being charmed by the reputation of this Illustrious Roman, to come and be near him, and hath since begun (as no question you have heard) to write of the War which we have at Carthage. But, Madam, I should not have spoken thus largely of Scipio's wit, but only because he shows it at full view but to few persons, and shows to very few of his friends whatsoever he writes in Verse or Prose. I will not be so prolix in commending his courage, since in the recital of his life, you will see a thousand evidences of a prodigious valour; and I shall also forbear to tell you of two or three single fights he had at Athens, in defending the interests of his Nation and his friends. Not but that there is something extraordinary and surprising in that which I pass over in silence; for though Scipio had not reached his sixteenth year, yet he got the better in three combats which he fought with so much advantage and glory, that all the Swordmen began to make their resort and familiarity with him, as the wits had done already. But he might have drawn more pleasant advantages from those which he gained in his fightings if he had pleased: for his reputation joined with his noble aspect, caused all the handsome persons whom we saw both at Athens and the other Cities of Greece, where we came to have a high esteem for him, and so great a complacency, that I have wondered a hundred and a hundred times, how Scipio could live in Greece without being entangled, and that he had no more but a generous and respectful civility for so many amiable persons. For nothing is more true than that he never resented those agreeable agitations which they call Love all that time, during which he lived after a most perfectly pleasing manner. But it was requisite for him in a short space after to forsake that calm manner of living; for news came into Greece, that Asdrubal having been slain, his brother in law Hannibal was put in the head of the Army of the Carthaginians; that he had already overrun a part of Spain; that he ever since won all the places that he attempted; and that after such good success he prepared to besiege the strong City of Saguntum, confederated with the people of Rome.  
We also heard at the time, that Regulus was gone to put himself into Saguntum, and that the Romans had sent Ambassadors to Carthage, to complain of the proceedings of Hannibal there, who contrary to the League made by his Father Amilcar, and renewed by Asdrubal his Brother in law, led his Army against the confederates of Rome.  
Scipio no sooner understood what I have rehearsed to you, but he felt himself inflamed with a desire of glory, and an ardour wholly generous. So that the same day having taken order for all accommodations for his journey, he departed the next morning to go into Italy. Myself being a Roman of no bad inclinations, and a friend to Scipio, departed with him, and we went to the Isle of Zocynthus to ship ourselves, because we were informed there was a Vessel of Lilybaeum there in readiness to hoist sail and return for Sicily. But, alas! fair Nadalia, we were no sooner arrived at Zacynthus, (whose Inhabitants, without doubt you know, went in former times into Spain to found Saguntum) but we beheld all the world in sorrow, and learned that Hannibal had entered that miserable City by assault.  
They went yet further, and as people are wont not to intermix in lamentable news any thing that may mitigate them, they told us nothing of the passages of Hannibal and Thomira, but contrarily informed us; all were destroyed by fire and sword, and that they had not spared the Prince Edescon, nor Lucius, nor Regulus. At this news Scipio lost all moderation, expressing a thousand regrets for this miserable City, and in his agitations threatened Carthage, and blamed Rome for not having succoured her Allies. But as soon as we were embarked, the wind became so favourable to us, that we soon arrived in Sicily, where chance caused us to meet with a man who expected an opportunity to go into Greece, to bring us Letters from Publius, and my Father, who commanded us to go to Pisa. Wherefore we continued on our voyage, and the wind also still favouring us, we arrived in a short time at Pisa, where Publius gathered together all the ships he could, both upon the Tyrrhene Sea, and that of Liguria, to pass afterwards to Marsilia, and give Hannibal battle amongst the Gauls.  
It would be difficult to represent to you the caresses that Publius made to Scipio, though he endeavoured to restrain part of his tenderness, and to express to you the joy which he resented when he beheld his dear son exceeding the relations of fame in the goodliness of his person. I shall content myself with telling you, that after Publius had received his Son in this manner, he gave him some reproofs. Scipio (said he to him) if you have showed yourself generous by coming into Italy, when you knew it convenient to serve Rome, you are to be commended; but you give me no cause to be pleased with you in coming without my order. For you ought to know, I have the sentiments of a true Roman, and a heart firm enough to be able to sacrifice you to your Country; and that if you are generous enough to desire to deserve it, before you have attained your seventeenth year, I am so to have you serve it, and to command you to do it.  
Publius pronounced these words with such Majesty, that Scipio blushed out of respect, and afterwards beginning to speak; My Lord (answered he, with a profound submission) having an assured belief that you would send order for me to come away; I did so without expecting it, and was willing to arrive the sooner with you, to deliver you from the care of sending into Greece. Scipio had scarce ended these words, but the young Fabius, the young Flaminius, Cato, Servilius, Lentulus, and seven or eight other young Romans of quality, came to do reverence to Publius, and to testify to him the satisfaction which they had in beginning to serve under him. Publius received them with all the civility that they could desire; after which having commanded Scipio to salute them, we all saluted one another with very much joy and affection. All these young Romans were so ravished with beholding the goodly aspect of Scipio, and observing a certain gracefulness in all his actions and words, that they began forthwith to esteem him infinitely, and accompanied the caresses they made him with a certain respect, which their age, which was something more advanced than that of Scipio, might have in a manner dispensed with. But, Madam, not to detain you with relating the cares Publius took to form an Army; I shall only tell you, that this Illustrious Roman having suddenly and strangely gathered one together, we departed from Pisa, and arrived happily at Marsilia. There we soon understood from Regulus who was come thither, that Hannibal had beaten the Gauls, which attempted to dispute the passage of the Rhosne with him, and that he was preparing to pass over the Alps with an Army of an hundred thousand foot, and twenty thousand horse. Upon which Publius sent Regulus with three hundred horse both to observe the march of the Carthaginians, and to discover in what places the Roman Army might most advantageously encamp. But for that Scipio had learned that Hannibal was wont to sent forth parties, either to pillage or to discover the passages; he came into my Chamber the same morning that Regulus departed, and embracing me presently with a gladsome kind of fierceness upon his countenance; Come, my dear Laelius, (said he to me) let us go to horse, and not slip the first occasion of drawing our swords, without putting ourselves into a condition of drawing them.  
I had no sooner consented to what he propounded, and we had no soo●er taken our Horses, but we sped after Regulus with such happy diligence, that our arrival was serviceable to him; for when we overtook him, we found him engaged with five hundred Horse of Hannibal's Army, who notwithstanding his valour, had totally defeated him, if Scipio had not came opportunely to his relief.  
But this Illustrious Roman whom I endeavoured to second, was no sooner came up to Regulus in the head of his men, but he presently slew a valiant Numidian, who commanded the party of the Enemies; and being afterwards engaged in the midst of those Africans, he carried death and terror where ever his dreadful sword was seen. At length we dispatched or put to flight the Enemy, and Regulus testified that he owed all the advantage to him which he had gained; and all the Romans beheld this young Hero with a veneration more than men use to resent in beholding persons like themselves.  
Publius, and all the Romans of quality, received us at Marsilia with much joy, and very many demonstrations of esteem; but amongst all the testimonies of both they gave us, it was easily discerned what an extraordinary admiration they had of the young Scipio. The Illustrious Publius was he alone that endeavoured to constrain himself, and not to show fully how much he esteemed his dear Scipio; but his eyes oftentimes betrayed that severe prudence, in which there was observed now and then such joy, and so many tokens of tenderness, that we well perceived that he who testified by his words that he resented only a moderate satisfaction, really resented an extraordinary gladness. But how highly will he augment this esteem and admiration? Publius' no sooner understood that Hannibal marched directly towards the Alps to pass over them, and bring the War into Italy, but he set sail, and assoon as he was landed, bestowed all diligence to give check to the Carthaginians. He reinforced his Army with the remains of that of Manlius, who had been beaten by the Gauls; and having also received some new Troops from Rome, in which was the young Aemilius, brother of Aemilia, he only took care to provide for a battle. Accordingly he passed the Po, and the Tesino in the head of his Army: and being he marched towards Hannibal, and Hannibal also was coming towards him, it was not long before they met and encountered. At first the good order and fierce appearance of our enemies, struck some terror into our Forces; But Publius confirmed them, and made them go on with confidence enough against an Enemy more potent in number, and made proud by several victories, sacks of Cities, and the presence of Hannibal. Our Illustrious General found his courage increased the nearer he approached such an enemy; and passing from rank to rank, embracing some, and encouraging others, after all necessary preparation; My friends (said he) we are to fight to day not only for our lives and liberties, but also in defence of our Wives, our Children, our Temples, and in a word, in defence of the walls of Rome: for, you see, our Enemies are now in Italy, the Pyrenean Mountains and the Alps are no longer between us, and they have no more Spaniards and Gauls to fight with. But to put you in mind, (added he, addressing to those whom he believed to be timorous) that you are Romans, and that you are going to charge the Carthaginians, is sufficient to make you see that you are running to Victory. For have we not always beaten the enemies which we go to attaque? Have we not imposed tributes upon them? And have we not enforced them to seek our alliance? What have we therefore to fear? Is it for that they have passed the Pyrenaean Hills and the Alps. Alas! my friends, this is it which assuredly promises us victory, since we are going to charge forces, whom weariness and the Ice of the Alps have half overcome already, and we are without question going to finish the conquest.  
While Publius was speaking in this manner, his generous Son upon sight of the Enemies, began to appear more admirable than he ever had yet done; his heart (if I may so speak) seemed to quit its ordinary place, and make itself seen in his eyes, in his countenance, in his action, and in his words; his aspect became more firm and fierce, and his air suddenly high and imperious. Let us on (said he to fifteen or twenty Volunteers who were to fight together) let us go show Hannibal the difference there is between the Romans and the Nations which he has overcome; and let us only remember that Romans, and such Romans as we, aught to die in the arms of glory, or take from thence the Crowns which are never attained but by generous attempts.  
He had scarce ended these words, but he fell in amongst the Enemies with an unparallelled impetuosity; so that Maharbal, who commanded the wing which we charged, was much put to it to bear up against this furious shock. But being a man of unquestionable valour, he quickly rallied his men which we had at first disordered. And soon after meeting with Scipio, they singled one another out and fought, till they were parted by the throng that fell in upon them. Scipio was then desirous to find Hannibal, and so opening his passage on every side with his sword, he encountered with Magar, whom he wounded and cast to the ground; killing afterwards and over throwing all that stood in his way. At length he came to a place where he thought he might find the fierce Enemy he sought for: But, alas! it was in that place that we beheld Publius forsaken by his own men, and encompassed with above two hundred of the enemy's Horse, and only endeavouring to die gloriously. We beheld him all covered over with blood and dust; he defended himself with his shield, and kept off his enemies with his sword, and being still seconded by seven or eight men, disputed his life generously. But this resistance would have been nnprofitable, had not we come up immediately to him; and yet we were not there timely enough to hinder him from receiving a wound with a Javelin in the right arm. This enraged Scipio, who suffering himself to be transported by the violence of his resentment, and cleaving the crowd with more vehemence: Ha! Caitiffs (cried he) Ha Barbarians! and without saying more, he ran upon him that had wounded Publius, passed his sword through his body, disengaged his Father, saved his life, as all the world knows, and performed those gallant actions which have been so much celebrated since, though he had not yet attained to the age of seventeen years.  
But when he caused Publius to be carried into his Tent, the Romans whose courage was upheld by the presence of the Scipio's, were contented only to bear up against the enemies, and made so weak resistance, that they fought no longer but in their retreat. Scipio, who was but slightly wounded, betook himself again to his charge; but he could not get himself followed; whereupon turning towards me, and some other volunteers that were with us: Ah! Laelius (said he to me) is it possible that we have not overcome? Let us go, Laelius, let us renew the fight, and at least be the last to retreat from it.  
He said no more, but beholding Fabius, Flaminius and Cato coming, all three slightly wounded, who were retiring themselves, he showed them a body of Horse still fight; wherefore all of them speeding up to see who they were, we beheld about forty or fifty Horse with Aemilius, Regulus, and Servilius, who defended themselves courageously against above three hundred of the enemies. Our succour presently rendered our friends the stronger; so that Aemilius, Regulus, and Servilius being disengaged, we all drew off in good order with the rest of the Army. But because the Enemies had lost a great number of men, and so were not in a condition to attempt any thing upon us; most part of the Volunteers left the Camp to go to Rome, and likewise a few days after Scipio and myself went thither, with Publius who was carried in his Litter, leaving the Conduct of his Forces to his Lieutenant Generals, till Sempronius came to demand them in his place. The day we arrived at Rome, I found my father at Publius' house with an infinite number of Romans who were met to await for Publius, and to see Scipio, whose reputation had filled the mouths of the City. Aemilius, Fabius, and Marcellus, were there with their Illustrious Fathers. We also found there Flaminius, Cato, Regulus, Minutius, and Varro, who was but of obscure extraction, but by the favour of the people, and a pride sufficiently fortunate was grown up to some consideration. In brief, all the Romans of quality excepting Sulpitius, were this day at Publius' house, as well they which had lately served under him, as they which had served in Sicily under Sempronius. Pyneas' King of Illyria, a young and goodly person, Perseus' Prince of Macedonia, and some others of like quality who were then at Rome, repaired thither also, so that the conversation was perfectly handsome: for if on the one side the Romans of elder years spoke of the affairs of the Commonwealth, the younger sort who made a company apart, entertained themselves only with the several interests of love and gallantry, which were occasioned by the beauties of Rome. At which time one of Servius' friends made a compliment to Publius and Scipio in the name of his friend, who was constrained to defer his visiting them; and as he was going about to tell the reason where we were, Pyneas began to speak, and addressing to Scipio; I find (said he to him) something very extraordinary in the reputation which you have gained, since the fairest persons of Rome have not only a great desire to see you, but an infinite esteem for you already, and are deeply obliged to you. For not to mention the fair Fnlvia, whom Servilius, whose life you saved, is to marry to morrow; you have obliged the Illustrious Aemilia, and the amiable Attilia, by rescuing their dear brethrens, Aemilius and Regulus. And the charming Popyria (added Flaminius) has perhaps not a less obligation to you for the safety of Aemilius.  
We continued this conversation for some time, by which Scipio and I came to know the eminentest beauties in Rome, by the relations made of them: after which, being it was already very late, all the company retired. The next morning when we intended to visit our friends, it was told us we should find none of them at home, for that they were all at Servilius' house, or those adjoining to his to see Fulvia pass by, who was to be lead home to him. Wherefore having never seen the like ceremony; we went to see it at a house whose windows opened directly upon the Gate of that of Servilius. But because, Madam, 'tis possible you are ignorant in what manner they lead Brides home at Rome; I shall describe to you in few words how we saw Fulvia brought to Servilius at Rome.  
There were six men attired in a silken habit of Carnation, and blue, because these were the colours of Servilius and Fulvia. These six men carried this fair Virgin, who had on her head a Garland of Vervain and flowers, which she ought to have gathered herself. The Chair in which she was carried, was adorned with a thousand knots of carnation and blue, which tied together little wreaths of flowers. On the corners of the Chair hung large bunches of Myrrh and Vervain, stuck with all sorts of flowers; there was also seen a great Portal at the entry of Servilius' house, adorned with an Arch and Pillars of flowers, which was extremely handsome. But, Madam, perhaps you wonder that they carry the Bride to her Husband's house at Rome, and no where else. It is easy to satisfy the curiosity you may have to know why this custom has been established at Rome.  
Yet I shall not give you the account most of the world do concerning it; which is, that 'tis not seemly for Virgins to enter of themselves into the house of their Husbands. For, Madam, I shall not do the injury to the Ladies of other Nations, as to say, that the modesty. I speak of is peculiar to those of Rome, and does not produce the same effect in the hearts of the Africa and Spanish. But, Madam, to tell you the verity of the thing, this custom was established at Rome, only to renew in all marriages the memory of the first that were made there, as you know without doubt, by the carrying away of the Sabine women. But to return to the rest of the Ceremonies that were observed, when Fulvia went home to her happy Lover, you must know that Servilius being accompanied by all his kindred, and excellent music sounding before him, received his lovely Bride, and divided her hair with the point of a Dart.  
This Ceremony is done, to show that the cares of Marriage ought to be divided; and whereas they make use of the point of a Dart, 'tis only in remembrance of the Sabines, and to testify that the Romans when they wanted women, knew how to get them by the dint of Arms. After Servilius had divided the hair of Fulvia, as I said, he presented her the keys of his house, he wished that she were as virtuous as Tanaquil, and afterwards took her by the hand to conduct her into a great Hall where the Ceremonies were to be completed.  
All these passages I have related to you pleased me so highly, that I fixed my eyes unmovably upon them, and gave them my whole attention, so that I took no notice that there was a fair and Illustrious Company in the windows opposite to ours.  
For the divine Aemilia was there, with the charming Papyria, the fair Attilio, and several other Ladies of other quality; of the men that were seen together with these fair persons, was Aemilius, the King of Illyria, the Prince of Macedonia, and Varro.  
But it is moreover remarkable, that though my eyes were otherwhere employed too much to behold the fair company I have mentioned, yet Scipio's were contrarily so fixed in beholding them, that he saw nothing at all of the Ceremonies that were done before us. Indeed it must be confessed, I was dazzled myself when I beheld Aemilia; for you may well judge, Madam, that the lustre of her beauty hindered all the Ladies that were with her, from diverting any part of that admiration which we gave entirely to this divine person. Aemilia, therefore, being so transcendent as you have seen her, and beyond the power of my Rhetoric to describe, retained the eyes of Scipio in such manner, that this Illustrious Lover (for so I may already term him) did not understand the Ceremony was ended, but by seeing that fair person withdraw from the window, and a servant take away a Cushion of Cloth of Gold, upon which she had leaned: All the spectators did the same both on Aemilia's side and ours, so that we necessarily were engaged by being seen, to salute her, and the noble personages with her, who returned our civility at the same time. Yet I believe, Scipio would not have begun the salutation, (his mind was so employed) but when Aemilia beheld him, she saluted him; and afterwards Pineas, Perseus, and Varro, with the Ladies, did the like. Scipio was indeed very ready to collect himself and resalute them; but he did it with an action so facile and agreeable, that all the Ladies turned towards the men that we with them, to tell them (as we understood afterwards) that they knew Scipio both by his graceful aspect, and that gallant air which they observed in him when he saluted them; and then added also, that if all the qualities of this young Roman answered to those they already remarked, he had with justice obtained an universal esteem.  
While these Ladies were speaking thus, they departed from their Windows, and went into a Hall, where we lost the sight of them; upon which, Scipio stayed some time at the window, if peradventure he might have another sight of them; but he saw them otherwise then he expected, for within a few moments after, he perceived at the Gate of the house Aemilia's Mother, who was coming out of it to go to that of Servilius, with Varro who led her; and presently after when he had seen her divine daughter appear, he would stay no longer, but went hastily out of the Chamber wherein we were, without calling me. Assoon as I perceived his action, I ran after him, and ask him whither he was going, to Servilius' house (answered he.) You are very exact (said I to him smiling) to make your visits so speedily. And you little obliging (replied he) not to make yours, till after all people else. I would not defer it so long (said I) nor yet am I desirous there should be so great a crowding thither. Were it not time at this instant (answered he) to make a compliment to Servilius, undoubtedly there would not be that crowding thither, which you fear so much. But (said I again to him) hear at lest what I have to say. But cannot you speak (interrupted he) as we are going. Pardon me (answered I) and I wish to the Gods, that what you will see at Servilius' house, may as little hinder you from speaking aright, as I am troubled to speak in going. But (continued I) 'tis possible you will not have all your mind about you there; for according to what I have observed, handsome things which you never saw, affect you very sensibly when you first see them. I mean (added I smiling) the brave Ceremonies which we beheld now. And I very well understand your subtlety (answered he, endeavouring also to smile) but to show you that I am capable of doing a great violence upon myself: I will resume also the liberty of my mind, and chase out of it in a manner the fair Idea, where with the gallant Ceremony you mean, has unquestionably filled my imagination  
You shall do very well (replied I) if you intent to preserve the esteem which the persons we are going to see have already conceived of you. Well, Laelius, (said he, as he was entering into the house of Servilius) observe what power I have over myself. And in ending these words, he indeed resumed that freedom of Action and spirit, which he was unpossess'd of a few moments before; and I may with truth affirm, that notwithstanding the great multitude in the Hall of Servilius; Scipio at his entrance drew the eyes of every one upon himself, and perhaps the esteem and admiration. He went immediately to make his Compliment to Servilius, and to Fulvia, and the principal of her kindred, and having acquitted himself with great gallantry, went to that place of the Hall where the Ladies were; but he was amazed to behold Aemilia yet more transcendently beautiful than she seemed to him before. For you must know, Madam, in these sort of Feasts, they use to shut up all the avenues of daylight, into the place where the Assembly is, and then light up five Torches in honour of the five principal Deities which are invoked in Marriages, and an infinite number of Lamps in honour of the lesser Deities, so that this kind of light being ordinarily favourable to beauty, and moreover Aemilia having a certain engaging sweetness which is not discernible at distance; and all this joined with the goodliness of her stature, and the gentle air of her carriage, almost made Scipio lose the resolution which he had taken; besides that he fancied this fair person, who seeing him approach rise presently up, as all the rest also did, had saluted him after a more civil and more obliging manner. But he renewed his resolutions, both because I was present, and he had engaged to me to keep his mind free, or rather because Aemilia was present, before whom he would not appear perplexed, especially in this first conversation.  
So that after some agreeable discourses concerning the Ceremonies of Marriage, which was a subject that at that time offered it self, Emilia told Scipio, that he was arrived at Rome at a very good time to see this Festival, and then demanded of him whether he accounted to not very handsome. I protest to you, madam (answered he) I never saw any thing so handsome, as what I have seen in this Festival. But for that there are different sorts of handsomeness, and different humours, (said Papyria to him) you must tell us with what you were best pleased, whether with the comeliness of the persons, or the music, or the gallantry of attire, to the end we may know whether you have had the same gust with Emilia, or Attilia, or myself. Scipio being a perfectly honourable personage (said Emilia) will not be loath to confess that he judged Fulvia the handsomest thing which he beheld. Pardon me, Madam, (answered he) if presume to contradict you, and assure you, that Fulvia was not the handsomest thing which I beheld. Scipio has reason (said Attilia) not to be much affected with the beauty of a Lady, (because he sees fair ones every day) as with the pomp of a Festival which he never see before. But that is not it, Madam, (answered he) which most affected me. It must needs be then (said Papyria) that I have gained the cause, since there remains no other part to take but that of the Music. Verily, Madam, (answered he) you have as little gained the cause; for that which pleased me most, was neither the Music, nor the Ornaments, nor Fulvia, but something infinitely above them all. It is easy then to conjecture it (said Aemilia) for since it was neither of those three things, and there was nothing surprisingly handsome besides, it must be a certain pleasingness that arises from them altogether, which charms more than any one of them is able to do severally. But, Madam, (answered he) as I was not very intent to behold them severally, it is difficult I should have been able to gust that united pleasingness you speak of.  
Scipio being very ingenious (said Aemilia) it is not to be wondered, if he does not declare himself; for in so doing, he would disoblige two Ladies, and oblige but one. But, Aemilia, (answered he) be pleased not to make me so ingenious; and believe, I would have ingeniously confessed the thing, if it had been mentioned what really most pleased me. For my part, (said Aemilia) I am in despair to conjecture it. I believe you would be much troubled to do it (answered he) for I am confident, Madam (added he subtly) you could not see what I beheld most handsome. I was the only person that well understood the sense of these last words of Scipio: for Pineas began to speak at this time, and Persens and myself being afterwards mixed in the conversation, it became in a manner general, and yet very agreeable and pleasant. In the mean while, Varro was speaking to Aemilia's Mother with very much heat, so that we were a long time at Servilius' house; though these kind of visits use to be generally of no great length, by reason of the throng which always happens in such occasions.  
But at length, after Claudia had conferred some time with Varro, she arose to go forth, being followed by all our fair company; but as I happened to be sufficiently near her, I observed Varro retained her by the Robe as she was rising, and heard him say these words to her with passion: Alas! I beseech you, Madam, answer me precisely before you go.  
The matter being very important (answered she, bowing down to him) you must give me leave to consult about it with the persons concerned: after which she arose and went forth, as I told you. The amorous Scipio would certainly have gone forth with her incomparable daughter, if I had not withheld him and constained him to content himself with making a profound to Claudia, and the persons that went with her, and only to follow the divine Aemilia with his eyes. Scipio could not continue there a moment after this fair person was gone, but was absolutely bend to go away too, and told me with some seeming trouble our visit had continued long enough, and we might well go forth now, since all the world had done so already. Yet, I see (answered I) the company is still good; nevertheless I will do what ever you please, and I will go (added I smiling) whither you will command me, since the most lovely person of the world is no longer here. I will not tell you a thing which all the world knows (replied he, as we were going forth). I shall then go learn (said I, smiling again) which no person knows yet, which is unquestionably that you love Aemilia more than all the persons that ever you have seen before. Alas! Laelius (answered he) I beseech you do not smile when you speak of such matters. I shall do what you please (replied I) provided you do not require me to sigh; for I should be much troubled to obey you.  
And is there any cause of sadness in what I have seen (answered I, taking my way towards the Tybor, on whose banks we were going to walk) and ought not I to be ravished with joy, that Scipio, who without flattery, is the goodliest person of all our Romans, is become amorous of Aemilia, who unquestionably transcends all the beauties of Rome? What then do you find yourself, Scipio, that can give you discontent! Is there not an equality between you in point of greatness, of birth and riches? and if Aemilia has beauty, wit and virtue; does not all the world speak of your rare accomplishment? and in fine, is there any reasonable person in Rome, that would not make vows to see Scipio and Aemilia conjoined together, and the powerful Houses of Cornelii, and the Aemilii allied?  
Alas, Laelius (answered he sighing) you consider not what you say, or else little understand the divine Aemilia. How can you think, Laelius (continued he with the same air) that a reasonable man ought to pretend to Emilia? Alas! Laelius, all is below this divine person; and you would certainly be of my opinion, if you had well considered what she is, if you had taken notice of her dazzling beauty, if you had observed her wit which is both gallant and modest; and lastly, if you had remarked a certain charm in her above all I have mentioned, which I observed myself, but am unable to express. Yes, Laelius, if you had admired all these things as I did, you would acknowledge that Aemilia, the adorable Aemilia, aught to look upon the pretensions of the most worthy person in the world as an insufferable insolence. You are transported too far (said I to him) for how Illustrious and fair soever Aemilia be, she will one day render some man happy; and you never yet saw any person so absutely elevated above all others, but there has been found a match for her in the world. And you have also never seen (interrupted he passionately) any person comparable to Aemilia; so that you cannot here infer, as they do ordinarily in the like cases, where you are speaking of a divine person who is so far above all that is handsome besides in the world.  
Scipio pronounced these words inspired to him by his passion, with such violence, that I was strangely amazed his passion should be so strong in its beginning; wherefore desiring to moderate his transports, I endeavoured to give him hope, conceiving no other passion so proper as that to calm the violence of love. But as I was representing to him, that I saw no reason he had to frame occasions of trouble and inquietude to himself, and that I could not discern what obstacles could intervene to his happiness, and was by several arguments endeavouring to compose his mind in quiet; we beheld some young persons of quality approaching towards us, which were, Fabius, Flaminius, Marcellus, and Regulus. Being united, the conversation amongst us was at first very agreeable, but it was incomparably more a few moments after; for having met Cato, who was walking alone upon the bank of Tiber, we employed our raillery against him upon a hundred occasions at once to puzzle him; and he having a very stiff and impetuous wit, the conversation became exreamly divertising.  
But for that our discourse at that time is of no necessity to the sequel of my story, I conceive it not material to detain you with the several subjects of our conversation. But, to proceed, I must tell you, that all being parted at convenient time, Scipio and I went to the Palace of Publius, his Father, where I was constrained to Sup. Which we had scarce done, but a slave of Publius' came to whisper me in the ear, desiring me to take the pains to descend down into the low Hall where Minutius attended to speak with me concerning an affair of importance. Being I lived in an absolute liberty in Publius' house, I descended forthwith without being obliged to any Ceremony; and there I found Minutius, who approaching towards me, desired my pardon for his coming to incommodate me at such an hour.  
But since 'tis for a friend (proceeded he) that I am come to beseech a favour, I conceive I may do it with the more confidence, and especially from Laelius, who so well understands all the dearness of friendship. But not to lose time (added he;) I must tell you in few words that Varro is infinitely amorous of Aemilia, and that I newly received this Ticket from him which you may please to read. At which words he presented me one, in which I was much surprised to read these words.  
Varro to Minutius.  
THis day at Servilius' house, I discovered new charms in Aemilia, which have redoubled the violence of my passions; yet Claudia, with whom I was very instant, would promise me nothing. Judge therefore in what a condition I am; but to contribute towards one more happy, I beseech you strengthen our party on your side with as many friends as you can engage in it, the end Lucius and Claudia may grant that to the mediations of a great part of Rome, which they would certainly refuse to the requests of Varro, and indeed which Varro himself can never obtain from the condescension of Aemilia.  

If I was surprised at the beginning of Minutius' discourse, I was extremely astonished when I had read this Ticket; so that Minutius taking this time to tell me what he had designed to communicate to me, he entreated me to embrace the party of Varro, and to engage Scipio in it too. For though I have not hitherto done Scipio or you any service (continued he) and there be no great intimacy between us; yet I hope you will not refuse what I request of you, since no exception can be taken against a Cabal, the design of which is only to bring about a marriage. I have so little inclination for all sorts of Cabals in general (answered I) that you may please to excuse me if I engage not in yours: besides, that the end you design, is so different from the means you would use to attain it, that I think your project will be unsuccessful. Moreover, all that shall contribute towards bringing to pass this affair by the way you would take, will not only highly disoblige the whole family of the Aemilii, but they will also contribute to the unhappiness of Varro; for indeed he would be in eternal punishment to have always a fair person in his eyes, whom himself had rendered unhappy, and gained by force (as I may so speak) in stead of endeavouring to affect her heart by his submissions, respects and services. But since 'tis your desire I should mention it to Scipio, (added I) I promise you to acquaint my friend this night with what I understand from you, and to let you know in the morning our last resolution. In the mean time, Minutius, be confident I shall not reveal your secret to any whatsoever but Scipio. Because it is unmeet (answered he) to go about to force the sentiments of others, I cannot take it ill that you disapprove ours; and provided, you religiously observe the promise you have made me, beyond which you are not obliged, I have no right to pretend to more. Nevertheless (added he craftily) one of these two things must be effected; either that you gain Scipio, and be both of you of our Cabal; or that I prevail upon the mind of Varro, so as to quit his enterprise. The last of the two (answered I) is assuredly more easy and equitable then that which you desire of me; but however, I keep myself to my promise, which is to speak of your affair to Scipio, and to none else. I had no sooner ended these words, but Miuntius, who apparently intended to go to other Houses, took his leave of me, and immediately after his departure, I went to Scipio, and lead him to his Chamber; where assoon as we were entered, I began to tell him of this new adventure, but without the least sign of wondering at it, to the end he might not apprehend it as a matter of any great moment. But it did not fall out accordingly; for I had no sooner related to him the discourse I had had with Minutius, and the substance of Varro's Letter; but he testified an extreme trouble and amazement at it.  
Alas! Laelius (cried he) how much were you deceived, when you conceived there were no obstacles to my happiness. And I am unhappy (added he) since in the same day that I am become amorous, the dearest of my friends must come and tell me I have a Rival, and that a formidable Rival too, since he designs to engage a part of Rome to act for his interests. If your passion permitted you to reason aright (answered I) you would not apprehend the matter as you do, nor look upon Varro as a formidable Rival, who takes so unpromising a course to advantage his pretensions. What know you▪ Laelius (interrupted he) but some strange fate may make Varro conquer by a way not ordinary, a person who is so little so? Just Gods! (cried I) what preposterous thoughts are these of yours! Why do not you instead of reasoning so perversely, reflect rather upon Varro's Letter, which will unquestionably compose your mind?  
And in truth (continued I) do not you see Claudia would promise your Rival nothing, and that Varro has no hopes from the favourable inclinations of Aemilia? But you do not say (answered he) that Claudia has not refused my Rival any thing, & in such occasions as these, who so refuses nothing, seems to promise all. If you were not strangely prejudiced (replied I) you would say that in these occasions, who so promises nothing, seems to refuse all. And it was never seen that a man was roughly rejected, and his alliance but weakly refused. But on the contrary, there is always some temperament used in the matter; as sometimes they tell you, the person you desire is too young: othertimes, they speak of an other match from which she is not yet wholly disengaged; and in brief, they find out a hundred pretexts which are not disobliging to refuse you what you desire. But you cannot say (answered he) that Claudia has used any such like pretext. No more can you (interrupted I) that she has not, or that she has been favourable to a man who sees himself constrained to have recourse to the last remedies; and after all, you see your Rival declares expressly, he can hope nothing from the favour of his Mistress; what reason therefore have you to afflict yourself? This indeed makes not much to my torment (answered he) but yet I apprehend not so much sweetness therein as you do; for since Varro, who is infinitely ingenious, and has made a thousand conversations with Aemilia, judges nothing to be expected from her favour, what can Scipio hope? How? (interrupted I) would you that Varro should have made any impression upon the heart of Aemilia? or would you have me make your Panegyric, and say that Scipio may obtain that which Varro has failed of?  
Ah! cruel friend, (cried he) why do you use such perplexing expressions? Because (answered I) you employ your wit only to frame torments to yourself, and complain that 'twas your friend who advertised you that you had a Rival, instead of rendering thanks to the Gods for the discovery made to you of a contrivance against your Mistress. Quiet your mind therefore, I beseech you, and instead of busying yourself about fancies to increase your trouble, let us consider what answer we must give Minutius. These will be no difficulty in giving him an answer (said Scipio.) For we have nothing to do but to break his design, which equally strikes both at virtue and Aemimila. But that which I find a little perplexing is, that I am unresolved whether I ought to advertise Emilia of it, or whether, without engaging for in the affair, I ought to endeavour to persuade Varro to desist from his enterprise; or in case he resolve to prosecute it, to oppose him with my friends, and either to be-break it, or or die generously.  
But I believe, (added he) this last course will be that I must follow; for I conceive we ought not to divulge a thing told us in secret, before having endeavoured to redressed it, and moreover, I believe it were better to serve Emilia without bringing her parents into danger, whether we serve her by hidde● means, or by using open force. I am of your opinion (answered I) although I know if we should chance to perish in our enterprise, we should be blamed for not having rendered our party stronger, by discovering the matter to the persons concerned. But for that the persons who would blame us in such manner, are certainly only such people as never judge of things but by the events; we ought as little to stand upon the gaining of their esteem, as the foreseeing what may happen. For after all, great prudence ought not in my judgement to be the grand virtue of young persons. Wherefore without further debate, let us expect to take the best expedients we can to morrow morning, when we come to confer with Minutius, and learn his utmost resolutions. In the mean time (added he) it is requisite for us to betake ourselves to our lodgings; and I would have you consider when you are at your rest, whether, if you have a Rival, you ought to fear the power of his birth and his virtue; and ending these words, I went forth out of his Chamber without expecting his answer, and retired into my own, where I passed the night with more quiet than Scipio. The next morning assoon as it was day, he came into my Chamber, and being seated upon my Bedside, would not at first speak concerning Aemilia, but began to set upon me for my sloathfulness.  
I apprehended the matter so pleasantly, that indeed it inspired me with cheerfulness; so that looking towards him, you believe without doubt (said I) 'tis very late, because perhaps 'tis a long time you waked. But do not deceive yourself, and think not 'tis the Sun which causes you to rise so early, that makes it day to us. Alas! I beseech you (answered he) let us discourse seriously. I do so (replied I, affecting to seem serious) and for confirmation of what I say, I will prove that in good Morality, you are injurious in waking me, and that a friend ought not like a Mistress, disturb the rest of a person that loves him.  
You are so little serious this morning, Laelius (said he) that I know not well what to say to to you. And you so much (answered I) that I know not well what course to take to make you lay aside your serious humour. Provided (replied he) you do not require me to discard that which you think makes me serious; I find myself incli●nable to satisfy you, and to regulate my sentiments as you desire. But, Laelius, require nothing further; and not imagine as people ordinarily do, that you ought to oppose a passion that is growing in the breast of a friend, and that to encourage it, would be like giving weapons to one that is frantic. For, in brief, Laelius, I declare to you, that Aemilia, the adorable Aemilia, shall always reign absolutely in my heart, and that I will wear during my life, the bonds of hers which I find upon me; for they seem to me so lovely, so charming and precious, that I esteem them above all the Crowns in the world. Ah! dear friend (added he) I little understand, and you are still ignorant, wherein consists a true and lively pleasure; since you have not yet resented those motions of tenderness which a fair person excites in our hearts when she subdues them to her dominion; since you have not resented that lively joy, nor those sweet fears which acompanie the love and respect of a passionte heart; and in brief, since you know not that that which is called inquietude, melancholy and musing in a Lover, has a thousand charms above those which men at liberty style solid pleasures.  
This subject, Madam, seemed so pleasing and copious to Scipio, that he would further have pursued his discourse, had not one com● to give us notice that Minutius desired to see us. As soon as he was come into our Chamber, and the civilities were passed on all sides; he at first beheld us as if he intended to read our resolutions in our countenances; and presently after; what may I expect you will do, Scipio, and Laelius (said he) in this affair? We will do all (answered Scipio, that virtue requires us to do; that is, neither Laelius nor Scipio will engage in a party against one of the most illustrious Houses of Rome; and you must either persuade Varro to make use of his for the benefit of the Commonwealth, or unloose yourself from his interests, to join with persons of none but honourable intententions. For, Minutius (continued he) you were a Roman before you were Varro's friend, and so you are obliged to prefer the interests of Rome before those of your friend, and even to oppose any whatsoever that goes about to disturb the public Peace and commit violences in the City. What you say, is so rational (answered Minutius) that it would be injustice not to follow your sentiments, and therefore I engage my word to you, that Varro shall serve himself of other means to attain the happiness he aspires too. These last words caused Scipio to blush, which yet was not observed by Minutius; for at the same time he was bethinking handsomely to change the matter of the conversation, and to speak no more of a business which was not very advantageous to his friend. And consequently, he fell to speak of many persons of quality whose humours he described to us; he also informed us of the interests of gallantry which he had observed in several parts of the City, and all this with so much wit and freedom of mind, that we believed he was no longer in suspense and unsatisfied. After which Minutius left us to go to Publius, and I prepared myself to go to my father, though Scipio very urgently opposed it, and would not permit me till I had promised to attend for him there, to go and pass the afternoon with Aemilia, to whose house accordingly we went, where the conversation was indeed very agreeable.  
'Tis true, Scipio spoke lesser than he was accustomed; for he fixed his eyes so constanly in beholding Aemilia, and his countenance represented so many tokens of an inward joy which he resented, that though I had not known the secret of his heart, yet I should have possibly suspected something extraordinary by his aspect. Besides, he appeared so satisfied, that I have since wondered it was not then observed he was amorous; for I believe, nothing but the presence of the person beloved could cause so lively a joy. Not but that his attention and his joy was often intterrupted by a hundred things spoken to his advantage, and of which he was desirous to break off the continuance, which was a displeasure that befell him at several times; for though Aemilia and the persons that were with her, understood the world perfectly, and were not ignorant, that 'tis something troublesome in a company, when great praises are given to a person that is present; yet they thought themselves powerfully constained to extol Scipio, both for that his brave actions were extremely celebrated every where, and because they had been very advantageous to most part of the persons of quality in Rome. Indeed Scipio was not so much perplexed, as he would have been, if Aemilia, Fabius, Cato and Regulus, had been that day with Aemilia, they having been witnesses of his glory, and importunately obliged to him. But for that they were gone into the Country, to a House of Papyrius'. Scipio was without doubt delivered from a part of his trouble; and that which hindered him from resenting greater disgust, at what he heard was the civility of Aemilia, and some gentle and obliging words which that fair person expressed concerning him, in mentioning his preserving and rescuing Aemilius: So true is it, that the joy which the person beloved excites, is pure and extremely sensible.  
At our departure from thence, I was also constained to accompany Scipio this night to the house of his father Publius, that I might here the reflections upon the forepast afternoon: But our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of his young brother, whom Publius had sent for from Greece; so that we could not have time then to speak of Aemilia. But, Madam, admire I beseech you, the capriciousness of fortune. The young Scipio seeming a lovely and sprightly youth, I began to set upon him, and told him the Ladies and the Carthaginians would have no great cause to be glad of his arrival. For if I be not deceived, (continued I) you have an aspect that promises you will be undoubtedly both in Love and and War. As for War (answered he) I shall betake myself to that assoon as I can; for I conceive at first, there is no more required then to obey: But for Love, I shall defend myself from it a long time; for besides that, 'tis a troublesome thing to be entangled in, I think I am yet to seek how to manage it. The matter is not so hard as you believe (replied I) smiling) for love has a Torch to give light to those that acknowledge his Empire. That Torch (answered he) gives light to few persons; for I have seen this day in the house of Papyrius by which I passed, two friends of yours, who have great endowments of wit and capacity, and yet have need of the light you speak of; they were Fabius and Cato, of which the first is in love, and the other is his Confident, But it was reported Fabius was so wise a Lover, that he never appeared passionate, and yet he was charged this morning for having suffered the secret of his heart to be known at Papyrius' house, without ever having given the least intimation of it to Aemilia, who is the person he loves  
And as for Cato, he was sufficiently played upon with raillery, for being the confident of a passion which he condemns, and intermeddling in the carrying on of an affair of which he understands not the perplexities and the pleasure; and that kind of address which is only learned by experience. And indeed he declared that he had no genius for things of this nature; but he believed he might promote the success by mediating with Lucius, to accord the marriage of Fabius and Aemilia. For marriage (added he) being an affair, and that very important, I conceive I should have done no dis-service by intermeddling in it. Thus, Laelius (proceeded he) you see in what manner this Torch gives light, or rather how love oftener lends lovers his fillet to bind them, than the light you speak of to direct them.  
Whilst the young Scipio was speaking thus, his illustrious Brother turned away his head, that he might not discover the commotion of his countenance. But at length, desirous to understand the matter more fully: How? brother (said he) is Fabius amorous of Aemilia? Yes, brother (answered he) and if you have any interest in the case, you may direct your course accordingly. As Scipio was going to reply, Publius entered the Chamber, so that the discourse was wholly broken off; & Publius began to express himself in much tenderness to his young Son, who did the same with testimony of respect and reverence to his father. A little time after, my father came to see the brother of my illustrious friend, and taking me away home with him, Scipio was deprived of the hope he had to tell me his sentiments upon what his brother had related of Fabius' love.  
The next day indeed he came to me after dinner, when the Ceremony of an Alliance made between our Republic and Pineas, King of Illyria, was to be seen in the Capitol that day; yet we must omit that to go see Aemilia. But going at night to Publius' house, whither Scipio made me to accompany him, we learned but too many particularities; for Publius told us with a satisfied and smiling countenance, that Illyria was become tributary to Rome. And I wish (continued he) you had seen the Ceremony of the Alliance we have made with Pineas. It is to be wondered (said I to him) that a Prince of such accomplishments and courage should do what you have told us. Lucius has so great a power over his mind (answered he) that he could have made him do other things than this. How? My Lord (said Scipio) has Pyneas made this Alliance so advantageous to Rome only by the influence of Lucius? There is nothing more certain (answered he) and I shall amaze you more when I have recounted you what passed in the Capitol not above an hour a go. Know then (continued he) that after the ceremonies were ended, Pyneas desired Lucius and me to stay till all the crowd was gone; where being without Witnesses, Pyneas walked some time with us without speaking, and at length stopping to consider that admirable stature of Romulus, which stands at the end of the great Hall of the Capitol, he read the Inscription upon the Pedestal, upon which he blushed and sighed, and then beholding us, with an air sufficiently sad; My Lords, (said he to us) do not believe I have done what you have seen out of weakness or timerousness; 'tis a more noble inducement that makes me to act so, and have not made this transaction but only because— he stopped after these few words; and then resuming his discourse. Ah, My Lords (pursued he) I know not well what I say, but my hand more bold than my tongue, shall better express to you the sentiments of Pyneas, & let you know for what reason he makes himself tributary to the Romans. And you shall see with this illustrious witness (proceeded he, addressing to Lucius, and pointing to me) whether the manner in which I have acted, be unworthy either of Lucius or Pyneas. Ending these words, he drew a Pastil out of his sleeve, and returning again to the stature of Romulus, writ something under that which he had read; after which again addressing to Lucius, Read, My Lord (said he to him) read, and you you will see that Pyneas is more capable of elevation then of lowness.  
After these words, he intimated to us, that he could no longer be there with us; so that after he was gone forth, we approached the Statue, and read with surprise what the King of Illyria had written. You know there are under that admirable statue four Verses, which several Nations judge too haughty; yet their loftiness is in some measure pardonable, being grounded upon certain predictions which have been made to the advantage of Rome. But the better to make you comprehend how ingenious the manner was wherewith Pyneas expressed his sentiments, in which are altogether remarkable the handsomeness of his wit, the greatness of his courage, and the violence of his love, I must put you in mind that the four Verses I speak of, and which seem to be spoken by Romulus, are conceived in these terms: 
My City shall rule over Land and Sea,  
And fill all parts with awe;  
And all the Cities of the world one day  
Shall hence receive their law.   
The King of Illyria, to show that he had only done that in reference to his love which we had lately seen transacted, and that so haughty an Inscription had not daunted him, writ these four Verses under those that I now repeat.  
Although it should rule over Land or Sea,  
And fill all parts with awe,  
Saw I not there the fairest eyes i' th'world,  
I'd not receive her law.  
You may well judge that Pyneas understands here only the fair Aemilia, for he daily resorts to her, as Lucius told me since; and in brief, 'tis out of respect to Lucius, that he has made this Alliance so highly to the advantage of the Commonwealth; so that Lucius testified to me that he had a great obligation to the King of Illyria, and that he found some inclination in himself to give him his daughter, provided he would bring a powerful succour into Italy. How? My Lord (answered I) is it possible Lucius can resolve to marry so fair a person out of Rome? It appears, Laelius (interrupted he) that you are still a young Roman; that is, that you have courage indeed, but not yet a complete soul, since you are capable of wondering a man should marry a fair and dear daughter into a foreign Country, and sacrifice her to the interest of his Country.  
As he ended these words, and it was already late, we all retired, and Scipio was delivered from the trouble of hearing the continuation of so cruel a discourse. And after having sup, he made a reverence to Publius, and ascended up to his Chamber, pretending to have some business to do there. You may judge, Madam, that I did not desert him, and that he did not fail immediately to tell me all his sentiments. Alas! Laelius (said he to me) I knew I should meet with more obstacles than you imagined. But (added he with very great sadness) I could never have believed it possible, things should conspire so strangely to render me the unhappiest man of the world. Was ever any thing heard or seen more cruel in the beginning of a passion? 'Tis but three days (proceeded he) since I saw the adorable Aemilia, three days since I began to adore her: but in these three days, the dearest of my friends has informed me that Varro is my Rival, Varro, who is the favourite of the people, and who by some fortunate rashness may cause an obstacle to my happiness. Yesterday I was with Aemilia, and I beheld that divine person more fair and charming, than she had before appeared to me; my passion received new vigour, and I fastened my chains myself; but upon my leaving that admirable person, it fell out that my dear brother advertised me Fabius was my Rival▪ Fabius, whose birth and merit place him above Varro. But this is not all; my father, who has an infinite tenderness for me, being yet nearer than a brother, and dearer than a friend, tells me to day I have a Rival more to be feared then Varro and Fabius; as if fate had ordered the persons that are dearest to me, should bring me the adventures which are most troublesome and tormenting. For in truth, Laelius, I see Pyneas is a goodly personage, I know he is endued with wit, and I have heard say, he has very much courage too, and a soul full of high and noble sentiments; But yet I see above all that I have mentioned, that he makes all things submit to his passion, and gives a fair proof of it, such as can be given only by Kings, and those very amorous. But, Scipio (said I to him) do you know that the King of Illyria loves Aemilia, and that 'tis she positively that he meams in his Verses? Can you doubt it? Laelius (interrupted he) and could Pyneus better express himself then by mentioning the fairest eyes in the world? besides, could he have given for any person but Aemilia so important a proof of his love? Would he have addressed to Lucius in doing all the passages we have heard my father relate? No, no, Laelius, it must not be doubted, and I see clearly enough, my hard fate raises me up new Rivals every day, and new obstacles. Not that these Rivals and obstacles can make me renounce the love I have; but on the contrary, I feel it augments in my heart, and presages I shall do things which perhaps my Rivals will not. In the mean time, to neglect nothing, it is requisite we retire, and either of us seek ou● means which may make me prosperous in that which I design; to the end to morrow morning, according to your sentiments, or my own, I may resolve what course to take to surmount whatever shall oppose itself to my happiness.  
The End of the First Book.     

The Grand SCIPIO.  
PART II.  
BOOK II.  
UPon the point of daybreak, Scipïo entered into my Chamber, and having waked me, Well, Laelius (said he to me) I have Rivals, but I resolve these Rivals shall serve to augment my glory; I will comport myself with an air that perhaps shall surpass theirs, and leaving them to their ordinary methods of Courtship, I will do things which assuredly shall not be unworthy the esteem of the Illustrious Aemilia. You will do well (answered I) in doing the rare things you speak of, but perhaps you will not do ill in serving yourself of those ordinary methods of acting with a Mistress, which you leave to your Rivals. How? Laelius (interrupted he) should I serve the adorable Aemilia as they ordinarily serve Ladies? Ah! Laelius— Ah! Scipio (interrupted I) you have not all your soul about you this morning; for should Aemilia be more adorable than she is, were it fit to be less diligent, or less complacential? Would you court her with fewer blandishments? would you offer her less incense? In a word, would you take less care to please her? You know, Laelius (answered he) I would not fail in any particular whatsoever: But yet I am desirous to render Aemilia some important service, before I take all those little cares you speak of▪ I am not of your opinion (said I to him;) and if I were a Lover, I should choose rather to begin with those little diligences, than your grand services. For those assiduous conversations, those blandishments and complacencies; and in brief, all those little diligences insinuate much more, and enter insensibly into the memory, and likewise the heart of the person beloved. And in case she should become so wary as to stand upon her guard, yet she will soon despond to make a continual resistance. Besides, we hourly find occasions to render these small offices I speak of, whereas the opportunities of glorious actions be rarely offered, there is not the like advantage of insinuating into the affections.  
And moreover, the lustre of them serves as an excitement to a Lady to put herself in a posture to resist an invasion; yea, I pass further, and think a Lady has ground to suspect that a man who exploits a grand action, acts more for his own glory then for the interest of the person loved. So that, Scipio, if you will believe me, you shall take all occasions whatsoever to render service to Aemilia, without affecting only to do great and glorious things; the observance of which may be heavy and incommodious to a fair person, upon whose heart you have yet made no impression, and who perhaps may have some kind of discontent to see herself on a sudden little over-obliged. You have reason, Laelius (answered he) and if I reasoned at first in such manner, it was only a certain ardour I am sensible of which transports me; and for that I considered my Rivals as so many obstacles to my heaviness, I proposed to myself at first only generous attempts to surpass theirs, and filled my mind with glorious enterprises. But, Laelius (added he) I shall follow your sentiment, and always act with Aemilia according to the best advantages to win upon her mind, not daring yet to pretend (continued he, embracing me) to have effected her illustrious heart. And indeed, Madam, Scipio afterwards acted in such a manner, that he surpassed his Rivals in all respects.  
He was more magnificent than the King of Illyria, in Attire, Attendants, and Horses, and all parts of gallantry at Rome; he appeared before Aemilia more prudent than Fabius, and even with this difference, that it seemed the wisdom of Scipio was an effect of the respect he had for that fair person, whereas that of Fabius appeared rather an effect of his temper. But besides all his gallantry and wisdom, he was more fierce than Varro, when it behooved him to be so; and with this difference also, that the fierceness of Varro appeared something insolent, but that of the Illustrious Scipio had nothing in it but what was lovely and heroical. So that these accomplishments together, joined with the goodliness of his person, and the handsomeness of his wit, made Scipio esteemed above all other honourable persons at Rome, and Aemilia herself inclined to treat him in a more civil and obliging manner then all the rest that usually conversed with her.  
Scipio enjoyed these contentments with an extreme pleasure, though sometimes he resented strange inquietudes; for the same beauty which filled him with joy, a few moments after gave him an extreme sadness, because he looked upon it as a thing so much above the pretensions of men, that he not only da●'d not to mention his passion to her, but scarce dared to think he ought to love her with hope of being endured, when she came to discover the motions of his soul. So that this mixture of joy and inquietude which he resen●●ted every moment, began to alter his health, in which all the world so much concerned themselves, that some came to me every day to inquire the cause of it. Even Aemilia, who about this time was pleased to honour me with some place in her friendship, very obligingly demanded of me concerning it, grounding her particular interest upon the general, and upon the obligation she had to Scipio, as the sister of Aemilius.  
But however, Madam, this admirable person had so great a goodness, and seemed to me ofttimes more satisfied and fair in the presence of Scipio, yet neither presumed he to mention his passion to her nor I, as much friend as I was to him, to open my mouth to discover it to her; such a profound respect did she, though young and fair, strike upon all that approached her. And this respect enclosing in Scipio's heart all the flames that Aemilia's beauty had excited there, this Illustrious love became much more passionate, and was afterwards ●eis'd with a kind of languishing, that made me apprehend much fear and trouble. Yet he had some consolation in this indisposedness; for Aemilia happened on a sudden to treat Varro with such contempt, that Scipio had the satisfaction of seeing one of his▪ Rivals ill treated, and he of them who had apparently discovered to Aemilia the inclinations of his soul, it not being possibly one of Varro's humour; that is, fierce, turbulent, and impatient, should have concealed violent passion in his breast out of respect, and as little to be thought Aemilia, who never acts but very judiciously, should begin to treat Varro unfavourably, without leaving new cause to do so. It is true, she had one afterwards very notorious and remarkable, as you shall instantly hear. For intelligence coming to Rome, that Sempronius would soon be in a posture to march with his Forces against Hannibal, Pyneas, who had long before sent to make levies in Illyria, departed from Rome, with Lucius and Aemilius, to see in what condition the forces were that were raised, which they understood were upon the Frontiers. Upon which those of the King of Illyria's Rivals that knew his design, were extramly perplexed at it. And the next day after their going, Scipio, Servilius, Varro, Minutius, and myself, were at Aemilia's house, with Fulvia and Attilia also, where we began to speak concerning Marriages and Alliances, the presence of Servilius and Fulvia, and the departure of Pyneas, furnishing us the occasion. Yet I conceive (said I, after some other discourse) Servilius ought to speak with pleasure of such matters as these.  
I am of your opinion (answered Varro) since having married a person whom he loves, the subject we are speaking of, aught to be matter of joy to him. You ought also add (replied I) that he is beloved by her, for his amiable bride does not disown it. Fulvia blushed a little at these words, and as she was going to speak something, Varro prevented her, and said, he did not add that expression of mine, because he judged it needless. For in my judgement (continued he) a man is happy when he marries a fair person whom he loves, though he be not beloved by her again. Can you think, Varro, (cried Scipio) a man can receive contentment in marrying a person by whom he is not beloved? Change your mind, I beseech you, and be not peremptory in maintaining an opinion which cannot be admitted.  
I know not whether it will be received by a great part of the world (answered he) but I know well, that such as are capable of a certain delicacy of pleasure which I apprehend, will not only be of my opinion, but will find more satisfaction in not being loved by a fair person whom they marry, then if they were affected by her with the highest ardour. This concerns you, Ladies, more than us (said Servilius) therefore I beseech you answer for yourselves. I conceive then, said Emilia, with a scornful accent) that Varro speaks very well; for in expressing his sentiments thus, he handsomely engages the world not to bring him in danger of the unhappiness to be beloved. Provided I may be so by you, Madam, (answered Varro, much perplexed for having spoken in that manner, and thinking to repair his fault by some kind of blandishment) I should not desire to be affected by any other whatsoever. No, Varro (replied she with the same contempt) the delicacy of pleasure you speak of, must be secured, and you need not fear I shall disturb it.  
Varro, as fierce and sprightly as he is, was extremely dejected with these last words of Emilia; so that endeavouring to compose his countenance the best he could, and beholding that charming person with a forced smile, as if to intimate to her, that what he had said was only in jest. But, Madam (said he) you mistake the matter; for you may understand my sentiments are wholly pure and unconcerned, if I pretend to marry a fair person whom I love, and by whom I dare not hope to be beloved again. That term, dare, was wrong placed (answered she with the same air) but, Varro, since I am not in the humour to examine whether your sentiments are pure and unconcerned, you will do me a great pleasure to speak no more of these matters. But, Madam, (said I to Emilia) 'tis unjust to impose silence to Varro; for since his opinion ought not to be followed, it is requisite that he change it forthwith; or after having said his utmost to confirm it, be convinced of his error by contrary reasons.  
If Varro should not change his opinion (said Attilia) there would be no danger of drawing much of the world to be of his judgement. The sentiments of the multitude are not always the best (answered Minutius) and the greatest part of mankind is not perpetually the wisest. Should what you say be true (replied Fulvia) yet there would at least be in the kind of sentiments, the satisfaction of not erring but in good company. Besides (added I) an error ceases to be such when it is generally received. And what will become of our priority, if the sentiment opposite to that of Varro be perfectly good and generally received? We may examine the goodness of it (answered Minutius) but as for being generally received, I shall not agree to that; for in the Chamber where we are, the opinion of Varro ought to find many defenders, since the Ladies who are present, ought either to approve it, or confess that they take pleasure in being beloved.  
For my part, (said Attilia) I should take none inbeing hated. But, Madam (proceeded she, addressing to Aemilia, whose countenance spoke her unwillingness to declare herself) you shall tell us your sentiment also, if you please. To tell it you ingeniously, since you desire it (answered she) I shall acknowledge that I conceive the friendship, or the indifference of persons that are worthy of both, aught to be desired; as they say, 'tis a pleasure to be commended by a person that is commendable himself. But, Madam (said Varro) if an amiable person should not love you, would you be less satisfied, when you considered that you did what you ought, in loving a lovely person, and especially that does not love you, since you would act without interest? There would be more generosity in that which you say (answered Scipio) but I do not conceive there would be more satisfaction. That generosity (replied Varro) would cause the pleasure I speak of: but since you require I should speak of a pleasure that is more essential to the thing, I have only to tell you, that if you come to marry a person that loves you passionately, you act as well for her as for yourself; so that this satisfaction being divided, is weakened on your side; whereas if you act only for your own interests, you have the pleasure of seeing that all you do is done for yourself, and that you triumph over the passions of a fair person.  
Besides, when you act in this manner, you resemble Conquerors, who gloriously win a place that resists; whereas they who get themselves to be affected by their little diligences, attendances and complacencies, are like those Captains that take Cities only by intelligence, or some other secret means. Moreover (added Minutius) in the deportment of a person that loves, you observe something so obliging, that seems to disparage modesty, whereby you are not so lively affected with it; besides, that such a person requires at several times you should perform certain duties to her, and certain services which she overcomes according to the capriciousness of her passion; and so taking them as tributes which you owe her, it is impossible you should render them without regret, because you do with constraint. But upon the countenance of a person that loves you not, you always see such a coldness and reservedness which increases modesty, and ravishes you with a joy beyond my ability to express.  
I shall go further (replied Varro) and say, that there is something more noble in this sentiment of mine. For either the person we love, has wit, or she has not; if not, you may easily judge there is no great advantage in being loved by her; if she has, and does not love us, we have the glory of doing what we ought in loving (as I said before) and surmounting the greatest obstacles in the course of our passion, which unquestionably are the insensibility, and the ingratitude of the person beloved. And to show you (proceeded Varro) that what I say is beyond all doubt; let us examine friendship, which nearest approaches love, and the name of which having nothing in it but sweetness, will not affright the Ladies, who entertain it oftentimes under the name of the passion I mentioned, which they conceive something too untameable and tumultuous. Let us speak, I say, of friendship; and suppose, Madam (continued he, with a hidden design, addressing to Aemilia) that Attilia loved you passionately, and you did not love her; it would without doubt come to pass, that Attilia would take a thousand and a thousand cares to please you, whilst you paid her with ingratitude, and return her cruel and severe words in acknowledgement of her blandishments; so that it would also happen, that all the world would commend the generous procedure of Attilia, and blame yours. For friendship, which is an union not being possible to be built but upon two foundations, and that which is between two persons extremely accomplished, not possible to be other then commendable and illustrious. You will be blamed, Madam, for not supporting it on your part, and your indifference will augment the lustre of Attilia's sincere and generous affection. You will I hope permit me to leave you (added he smiling) to make the application of what I have said, and at least in conversation to make you pass from friendship to love; for if you judge a friend to be so much the more generous in that his affection is not countenanced; why will you not judge the same of a lover, whose passion being more ardent, merits more acknowledgement? Confess therefore, I beseech you, that my opinion is not absurd as you believed it, which is, that there is much sweetness and generosity in marrying a fair person whom we love without being loved; for if I love, I act, and act with choice, yea with liberty too; since at the beginning of my passion, I have power to determine to love or not to love; whereas, if I am loved, I am without action, I only lend a dead presence (as I may so speak) and in sum, only receive the tokens of an affection which I cannot destroy. I believe (said Scipio) 'tis possible to find either effectual or apparent reasons for all the things in the world; but this does not hinder but there may be found others contrary, of more or less prevalence, according to the justice or injustice of the subject they concern. Wherefore you must not wonder, Varro, if you are told you are mistaken in your reasonings.  
For did not you say, the satisfaction of a man that acted for his own interests, was much greater than when he acts also for those of the person loved? It follows therefore, that you must confess you love yourself only; for it would be a strange contradiction to pretend that you love a fair person at the same time that you condemn acting for her.  
You also said afterwards, as I remember, that your satisfaction being shared by the person you loved, would be much weakened on your side. Alas! Varro, you understand little of the nature of love, since you are ignorant that this passion is so far from dividing, that it unites all things, and instead of sharing satisfaction, makes you enjoy that of the person loved too, and so gives you a double one. Then would be the time, Varro (said Servilius) that you might abandon yourself to the ravishment of joy that was spoken of, when you should see your own passions excite the like in a fair person, when you beheld your joy glitter in her eyes; and her fair mouth sigh for your griefs. This, Varro (proceeded he) is that delicacy of pleasure you ought to wish to re●ent; for we may say, that he that is not capable of it, is uncapable of the highest satisfaction. These words of Servilius caused Scipio to blush; upon which I immediately began to speak, and that with some heat, to the end no notice might be taken of the alteration in the countenance of this illustrious-Lover: and addressing to Varro: If you surprised me (said I to him) when you termed that a divided satisfaction of two persons, whom you confess to be united, because they love one another; I was not less amazed when you compared the heart of a fair Lady to a City besieged; for I can fancy nothing more discrepant.  
If we see (continued I) that the force of battering Rams, and other warlike Engines, make breaches by which the Victor enters the place besieged; we see, on the contrary, a generous heart is never gained upon but by complacency, submissions, respects, and a thousand little acts which cannot be taught, but are daily inspired by love. We see, I say, a generous heart, that noble and independent place which is able to breathe an air of liberty amidst chains, is so far from giving entrance to any whatsoever by violence, that it never receives a conqueror but by the gate which itself freely opens. Nevertheless, though I should have approved your comparison, yet you would be obliged to confess, that a man that reigns by violence cannot reign long, that he must stand in fear of all the world, since all the world does so of him, that he is ready every day to see his very Guards turn their Arms against him, and his subjects weary of being such, shake off his tyrannical yoke; and therefore I believe it will easily be judged better to enter and reign by gentleness in a place, and to be the lawful possessor, than a severe usurper of it.  
As for the sentiment of Minutius (said Scipio) it will not perhaps be better entertained, because himself followed that of Varro. You asserted (continued he, addressing to Minutius) that we see in the countenance of a fair person that loves us, such a kind of obligingness that disparages modesty. But do not you know, that love is always accompanied with respect, fear and languor: I mean those respects which do not torture the mind, and those sweet fears that delight the persons who cause them, and those languors which embellish the countenance, and give it an air infinitely affecting: And not of those— which you spoke of, which can have nothing lovely in them, because 'tis aversion which produces them. As for the services and duties you mentioned, which you imagine a person that loves us exacts imperiously, yourself destroy what you establish; for in saying such a person loves us, do not you also imply, that she desires nothing but what pleases us? and when you suppose we love such a person, do not you also grant that we do nothing for her with constraint? In the distinction which Varro made afterwards (continued Scipio) it may be said he has not stood to his first sentiments; for I conceive, at the beginning of his discourse he designs to act only for himself, and in the place I speak of, he remembers that he ought to be generous, and that he ought not to act but for the interest of the person loved.  
But to omit this kind of discussion, is it not to be thought an unhappiness to love, and not be loved again, whethersoever the person loved be ingenious or otherwise? For if we love a person without wit and worth, we may without much arguing conclude, that our engagement alone renders us unhappy. But we are much more to be pitied, when a Lady of a sprightly and judicious wit, is averse from loving us; for all the world will have ground to conclude us undeserving to receive that which a Lady that judges prudently of matters, refuses to grant us: Besides (added I) for accomplishment of the misery, such a Lady should refuse that which she were in some measure obliged to grant, namely to love him that loves her. For indeed (continued I) for the Interest of my friend, 'tis a peculiar grandeur of love, that all the Treasures and Empires of the World cannot satisfy it, but it must suffice itself, and the inflamed heart communicate its flame.  
As I was pronouncing these words, I looked upon Aemilia, though without unseemliness, and that fair person began to speak after a smile infinitely charming, addressing to Aemilia, at the venture of saying nothing considerable (said she) it is requisite for me to answer to what has been said concerning me, and to declare that the supposition is impossible that was made of my not esteeming and loving you. But though you had not that goodness for me (answered Attilia) and should happen not to love me, the reasoning of Varro, would not, I conceive, be the stronger, for in truth, I should esteem myself infinitely unhappy. But so far would your proceeding be (replied Aemilia) from being noble and generous, as they say it would be, that you would be accused of stupidity, if you could persist in loving a person, who in not loving you would assuredly be highly unjust. For my part (said Fulvia agreeably, blushing a little) since it is lawful for me to confess there is sweetness in loving, it will be also lawful for me to say, that there is infinite in being loved, and I wish I had sufficient eloquence to prove it. You have, Madam, (answered Scipio) to prove things much more difficult, and Varro has not served himself of reasons strong enough to perplex so excellent a capacity as yours. For Varro affirmed (continued he) that 'tis more noble to love then to be loved; because when when we love, we act, and that with choice and liberty, having in our power to determine to love, or not the first moment we engage ourselves.  
But to be loved, said he, is, to speak properly, to do nothing, but lend a dead pretence, and receive testimonies of a passion that is not to be destroyed, which is not difficult to be refuted. For if the person that loves, acts; and the person loved, does not; the forbearance of the latter is much more noble than the action of the other, since the inducement to act proceeds from, as well as the end of the action terminates, in the person loved: As it is the grandeur of a King to cause a thousand persons to act without taking the pains to act himself, and doing that for his subjects which they are obliged to do for him. But I have wondered more at that which Varro dared to affirm, that 'tis in our power to determine ourselves to love, or not; and that to be loved, is to do nothing but receive the tokens of an affection which we cannot extinguish: I will not insist in finding out a contradiction in these words, though it would be no difficult search. But if a man can love, or not love, a Lady that desires not to be loved by him, might easily give him powerful inducements to resolve not to love her; so that, contrary to the sentiments of Varro, it will be in her power to extinguish the passion that such persons has for her.  
But Varro is excusable for having spoken in this manner; for he knows not very well what love is, since according to his sentiment, a man is able to determine to love, or not to love; and since he is ignorant that our hearts are on a sudden engaged, before our reason deliberates the matter, and we take the chains upon us without knowing whether we ought to wear or break them. But in my judgement, Varro is yet more unjust, when he says with a kind of contempt, that to be loved, is to do nothing, but only receive the testimonies of an affection that cannot be extinguished. For indeed, what can be more glorious than that desirable impatience, of not being able to hinder ourselves from being beloved? What can we say more magnificent of our Gods, then that it is impossible to know them without loving and adoring them?  
Thus you see, Ladies, how much Varro hath mistaken the matter, and whether he has done well in going about to maintain an opinion, which he ought never to have thought worthy to defend. After these words, Aemilia, Fulvia, Attilia, Servilius, and myself, spoke something to intimate, that the discourse of Varro had made no impression upon our minds, or at lest none that was very advantageous to him. And it now growing late, it fell out by chance that Scipio, Varro, Minutius, and I went forth together; when beholding one another with looks that spoke no great kindness, as you may well judge, Madam, we silently and unadvertingly went along till we came upon the bank of Tiber, where we walked some moments all in silence; till at length Varro, whose nature is sufficiently violent, regretting what had passed at Aemilia's house, looked steadfastly upon Scipio, after having blushed two or three times. You have had more assistants (said he to him) than I at Aemilia's; but I do not despair, having an other party which perhaps will render me happy in the manner I wish. For, I believe not (continued he) a Lady of extraordinary merit, and whom I should honour infinitely, as I do Aemilia, aught to think herself injured, if I take all manner of courses to marry her. But on the contrary, as there is nothing better evidences the greatness of a passion, than the extraordinary means which are used to satisfy it; I conceive, a Lady, how averse soever she seem, would be glad to have great projects and contrivances employed to conquer her; and indeed they bring more glory to him, that serves himself of them, and to the person for whom they are undertaken, than those kind of little diligences, slight complacencies and secret insinuations, which being ordinarily without lustre, are also ordinarily without glory. You deceive yourself, Varro (answered Scipio) if you believe a Lady that were of Aemilia's humour, could approve such violent proceeding, which you term extraordinary courses.  
On the contrary (pursued he) you must know that Virtue and seemliness have constituted certain ways, beyond which all passes for rudeness and irregularity; and therefore a virtuous person would be so far from being wrought upon by those great projects and contrivances you speak of; or to speak more clearly, those boisterous attempts and violences, that she would perfectly hate a man, who in order to marry, should take your great courses, employ your grand projects, and make choice of your extraordinary means. You ill apprehend my sentiments, Scipio (replied Varro) when you speak of boisterous attempts; for what power soever I have in Rome, I will never make use of it to do violence to Aemilia. You would have done very well, Varro, (said Scipio disdainfully) to have said before that fair person what you say now, though it had been only to have settled her mind. For the house of the Aemilii have great reason to fear the power of Varro in Rome. But, Varro, (continued he with a fierce air) you would do yet better not to speak so high of the party you have in Rome, but believe yourself not capable of using it against a house so illustrious as that of the Aemilii. For when all is done, Varro, Aemilius will spoil your plots at his return; and if in his absence you offer to execute any design not consistent with virtue, I will do the same that he would do if he were at Rome.  
It belongs not to you (answered Varro, blushing) to examine of nature the designs I am framing, are; and I conceive you have not yet been long enough at Rome, either to make plots there, or to be able to break them. And 'tis so little a while (replied Scipio with a scornful air) that your name has been known there, that my name alone would break the party that you have formed; and if this means be too weak, I shall find others that will do it both more powerful and more infallible.  
Those other means you intimate (answered Varro fiercely) will as little daunt me, as the pronouncing of a name, which seems to me to have nothing mysterious enough in it to do great exploits.  
These words of Varro made Scipio lose the patience which he had till then preserved, so that suddenly wresting a sword which was carried by a slave; Let us try, Varro (cried he) whether I can well make use of those means I intimated. Ending these words he drew the sword, and as Varro, Minutius, and myself had seized others which were carried by our slaves, we had all four began a combat which in all probability would soon have been fatal, if by chance Flaminius, Lentulus, and several other Romans had not at the same moment arrived in that place by a street which opened just upon it, so that they were immediately upon us, and parted us. But for that Scipio and Varro, feared lest the ground of their quarrel should be known, they presently were provided with pretexts, and alleged their difference was occasioned by a discourse concerning the affairs of the Army. And accordingly said Varro (who was more capable than Scipio, to speak a thing confidently that was not true) I was defending, that Sempronius did very well to prepare himself for a battle, and that he would do better if he engaged assoon as possible. Scipio immediately contradicted me for the interest of his Father, and endeavoured to persuade us that Sempronius was unjust, if he gave battle before Publius was perfectly cured, that he might be in a condition to bear part of the pains and glory with Sempronius. So that having answered Scipio, and Scipio replied to me, we were easily exasperated; and Laelius being of Scipio's opinion, as Minutius was of mine, they became involved in our quarrel, instead of being inclinable to reconcile it.  
This pretext of Varro seeming to carry some colour of truth, because the general discourse of Rome was much after this rate, Flaminius who was something more aged than Lentulus, desired to take up the business upon the place, imagining we had no other grounds of quarrelling; so that entreating us to speak no more concerning the interests of Publius and Sempronius, he caused us to promise him we would not, thinking by that means to avoid all mischievous consequences, and so we retired severally. In the mean time Varro considering with what ardour Scipio had sided with the interests of Aemilia, did not doubt but that he was enamoured of her; and therefore perceiving he had to do with a Rival so considerable, and moreover with a Rival that was conscious to his secret, he determined to bestir himself to execute his design before Scipio should discover his love, or Pyneas return with Lucius to accomplish his. My Illustrious friend, on his part, resolved to neglect nothing; he engaged seven or eight of his friends to be in readiness to serve him in an important affair, in case he should have need of them, and chose out ten or a dozen of his Domestics, whom he believed to be men of courage, not daring to make a stronger party, lest the business should be discovered. For being not certainly assured that Varro durst attempt in the City of Rome to carry by force a Lady of great quality, he feared that if his great preparation to oppose a pretended Ravisher, should be known, it would be believed about the City, either that he was sufficiently amorous of her to have lost his reason, or was seized with a panic terror: Besides, conceiving that if Varro intended any such thing, it would be only by night, he thought he should be strong enough to resist him with eighten or twenty men in whom he might confide. But for that it was impossible for him exactly to know the day in which Varro would enterprise what he had projected, he was minded also to make himself sure of a noble relation of his named Appius, who lodged near Lucius' Palace, to the end if the encounter should happen to be in that quarter, and the noise of it heard at Appius' house, he might take from thence what succour should be necessary. Thither therefore he went to acquaint him with the business; but finding him not at home, and unwilling to stay he left a Note conceived in these terms, with order to be delivered to his own hands.  
Scipio to Appius.  
I Came to your house to impart to you an affair of very great importance, but not finding you within, and it being probable I shall need you this night, I left this note to entreat you to be in a posture of issuing forth well accompanied, if you hear a bustle near the Palace of Lucius, and to come to my aid, if I find too great resistance there, which yet in all appearance I shall not do.  

Scipio having written and showed me this Note, went from thence, and afterwards as soon as night began to appear, sent one of his slaves, and commanded him to pass to and fro time after time before Aemilia's Gate, till an hour which he set him to retire, designing to send others thither successively, and continue this vigilance all the night to observe if any appeared there in a readiness to attempt any thing. But when it was told Scipio, that there was no person seen there besides some Domestics of Lucius, he slept quietly till the break of day; when he arose to go to Appius' house, where he understood his Note had been delivered to him, and that he was gone an hour before into the Country. Scipio was something troubled that he could not speak with him; but when at his going out of the house he beheld the stately Palace where the adorable Aemilia lived; this fight not only dispelled his trouble, but inspired him with a very sensible joy. But the aspect of the person loved, causing one incomparably greater and livelier, Scipio awaited impatiently the hour in which he might see the fair person he adored, and accordingly went to her house to pass the afternoon with her; but he was surprised when the Porter of Lucius told him Aemilia was gone forth with Claudia, and that by all conjecture they would not return home till night.  
The amorous Scipio heard not these words without regret, and being not able to remain longer without seeing Aemilia, he presently resolved to go seek her in all places whither he judged she might be gone. But this transport being over within a few moments, he conceived it not consistent with decency for him either to go or send to seek Aemilia, and therefore he bethought himself to send to inquire for me in all these houses, commanding the slaves which he sent into divers quarters to have tidings the sooner of what he desired, that they should pretend I was with Claudia. This was rationally enough contrived; for it was very usual for Scipio to cause me to be sought out, and not strange it should be said I was with Claudia, at whose house I was almost every day, as I have already told you; so that by saying confidently I was with her, it might be confidently demanded whether she were in the places at which I was sought for. Nevertheless, all this diligence proved unsuccessful; and which was more perplexing, Scipio understood that not only Claudia and Aemilia were not gone abroad at all that day, but also that Minutius had passed the afternoon with them at their house: for a slave whom he caused to watch about the Gate till they should return home, to the end he might come presently and give him notice of it, told him that he did not see them enter into the house, but beheld Minutius come forth from thence towards night. We mused a long time concerning this adventure; but all we could imagine thereupon, served only to perplex Scipio, who came at length to believe that Varro had devised some means to win the mind of Claudia, and that Minutius perhaps went thither to treat of an affair on which this passionate Lover could not think without being enraged. Yet he did not cease his former course of sending slaves from time to time towards Lucius' Palace; but he only learned that at several times, many came forth to look them in the faces and observe them.  
But Scipio made no great reflection upon this last circumstance, both because he believed it was the custom to take notice of such persons who in the night time pass and repass several times before the same house: but when he considered that Lucius' Porter had assuredly spoken by Claudia's order, and that in all appearance, it was only for Varro's interest, he resented a greater passion than I am able to give a name to, much less to describe. He passed the night without sleeping, and the languishment which had seized on him sometime before through excess of love, being now accompanied with so deep a discontent and so many inquietudes, caused him the next morning to seem as if he had been a long time sick. Assoon as he thought it fit time to see the Ladies, he resolved to go to Claudia's house, which I absolutely opposed, and represented to him so undeniably, that he was too passionate to be able to make this visit without giving evident suspicions of the violence of his passion, that at length he suffered himself to be persuaded, and permitted me to go alone and visit that admirable Lady which he adored. I found at Claudia's house five or six fair persons, whom I have not hitherto mentioned to you, Madam, because I conceived it not necessary in the relation I am making, to inform you of all the fair Ladies in Rome: Fabius, Cato, Regulus, and Marcellus, were there also, whose presence with the rest made this day extremely agreeable. Aemilia appeared to me even more charming, although amidst the sweetness wherewith she was accustomed to receive all the world that came to her; I observed methought, a little melancholy, which from time to time she could not well dissemble. I had an extraordinary desire to go fit near this adorable person; but I stayed a good time to do it with convenience, which I could not do till a happy change fell out for my intention. For three or four Ladies of great quality, and something advanced in years, entered into Claudia's Chamber, who led them apart to her own Couch, and so left us to make a conversation which was afterwards something more gallant and divertising. I did not omit then to take my opportunity to speak to Aemilia, assoon as I could, without being overheard by any person; wherefore turning myself towards her, Well, Madam (said I to her) since Scipio and I were yesterday unhappy, may we know to day to cause of our unhappiness? In truth, Laelius (answered she) you would be a very strange person if you should require me to answer your question? Yet 'tis requisite you do it, (replied I) for I am not in the humour (added I smiling) to believe it lawful for you to do us mischief, without being at least obliged to inform us why you do it. You are so little prudent to day (Laelius replied she agreeably) that I know not very well whether or no I ought to discourse with you; It's very easy for you to be so, Madam (answered I) who know not what an unhappiness it is to seek every where for the Illustrious Aemilia, without being able to find her. You have reason (replied she smiling) to bemoan yourself, if that be the unhappiness you mean; for I look upon it as very great and insupportable. Ah! Madam (interrupted I) speak seriously, I beseech you, and be pleased to tell me whether Scipio and Laelius were concerned in the order that was yesterday given to your Porter, to say you were gone abroad. To speak to you after the manner you desire (answered she seriously) I believe Claudia commanded the Porter that he should give the same answer indifferently to all that came to see her. Your Porter then is not very punctually (replied I) for I know all the world was not so unhappy as we were. Minutius (answered she) whom without question you intimate, was here before that order was given, and this did not hinder its being afterwards given to all the world. 'Tis not, Laelius (added she blushing) but that I have understood Claudia has some great cause to complain of your friend. How? Madam (interrupted I) can Claudia believe she has cause of complaint against Scipio? surely, Madam (proceeded I) you can no sooner have told me upon what she grounds her complaint, but I shall let you see she can have no just foundation for it. 'Tis something which I cannot tell you (answered she) for Claudia has not informed me of it; and to testify to you that I know nothing of it, you see I admit a conversation with you, who perhaps would not pass for very innocent, if I knew your friend's crime. 'Tis true (replied I) I am criminal, if he be culpable. But it is more true, that I am perfectly innocent. As I had spoke these words, Aemilia was drawn aside to answer to something that was proposed to her; after which we engaged ourselves in a promiscuous conversation. In the mean time I was desirous to stay till all the company was gone to justify Scipio with Claudia; but it was so late before they all retired, that I had not much time to speak with Claudia, though I had too much to hear a thing that seemed to me terribly surprising. For, Madam, you must know, Claudia after some other discourse, told me with an air extremely severe, that she wondered, a person for whom Lucius and herself had an infinite esteem and kindness, one of so noble and glorious accomplishment, could be capable of contriving a design very strange and unjust. For, in brief, Laelius (proceeded she) I understand Scipio has too much interested himself in our domestic affairs; I am told he has engaged some of his friends to make great preparations, aiming at the interruption of a marriage of Aemilia; but I conceived he would have done better not to have meddled with any of these matters. Believe me, Laelius, Reason is not always the Mistress of persons of your and your friend's age, and perhaps, (added she, shaking her head a little) you have given us in a testimony that however discreet and virtuous you are esteemed, you are yet short of that perfect wisdom, which is elevated above all passions, and have not absolutely renounced all temerities of youth. I beseech you, Madam, (answered I, when I was recovered from the astonishment, into which her first words had cast me) let us examine the matter, and you will see.— There's no great necessity of that (interrupted she) and I conceive it ought to be sufficient to you, that I understand it exactly enough already. You know it exactly! (cried I) No, no, Madam, 'tis impossible; you have without question been ill informed, since you know not that Scipio has rather obliged then offended you. You deceive yourself, Laelius (replied she) for though Scipio should have believed he acted for my advantage in this affair, I conceive I were not concerned to thank him for doing so; since it does not belong to Scipio to make or break a marriage of Aemilia, nor to examine whether the Matches propounded to her be advantage or not. But as to satisfying you how I have been informed, I desire to be excused; to morrow you shall see whether I deport myself with as much discretion and moderation as is requisite in a person of my age and sex. Besides, to tell you some of my sentiments, I take no pleasure in speaking of a thing which I shall endeavour to forget, as well for that I still acknowledge myself obliged to Scipio in the person of Aemilia, as well for that I am still sensible of much esteem and kindness towards him. But Laelius (added she, as she was going from me) content yourself with what I have said, and be pleased to require no more from me.  
Leaving me these words, I was constrained to go away from her house, which I did, so surprised and sad with what I heard, that Scipio, who expected me with an extreme impatience, cried, assoon as he saw me. Ah! Laelius, your aspect speaks some great unhappiness, but in the name of the Gods (added he) declare the matter without concealment, to the end I may appease Aemilia's mind, if she be incensed against me for any cause I am ignorant of, or that I may die if that adorable person forbid me evermore to seek her. Aemilia is not at all incensed against you (answered I) but I know not whether it would not be better she were so, and I had not that to tell you which I am going to relate. Speak it out then, Laelius, (interrupted he) speak it confidently; and since the adorable Aemilia is not incensed against me, you shall see I will suffer with sufficient moderation whatever you have to tell me. I wish it prove so (answered I) but I have not much hopes of it. For, to tell you the matter really as it is, that having a true knowledge of the mischief, you may seek the necessary remedy; I have only to recount to you the discourse I lately had with the Mother of the Illustrious Aemilia. And accordingly after this, I recounted to Scipio in full I had heard from Claudia; whereupon this passionate lover suddenly interrupting me. Ah! Laelius (cried he sorrowfully) Varro is then agreed with Claudia: you had indeed reason to say, that it were better Aemilia were incensed against me, provided Claudia were not in the manner she is. For my innocence would have soon appeased that fair person, whereas the too great severity of Claudia would listen to what you had to say in my justification. Oh Gods! who could have believed the best intentions should have been followed with the worst success. Alas! (continued he with the same air) who could have believed that Scipio, wholly possessed with zeal and respect, should come to see himself the most unhappy person in the world, because he had the best intentions? and that a violent and unjust man should come to the point of seeing his crimes Crowned, and receiving a recompense for them so glorious, that the most ambitious of men would not dare to claim after the most important services and heroical actions? But on what do I amuse myself (continued he, after a reflection of some moments, upon what he had said) I content myself with making complaints, whilst perhaps Varro is within a small step of being happy? O Gods! this thought pierces my soul, this thought kills me. How? let us rather go turn that fate upon my rival, and afterwards do things worthy of Scipio, of my love, and of Aemilia. He was going forth at these words, but it being already very late, I retained him, and so well represented to him, that his case was not yet arrived to that extremity which requires the last remedies, that I forced him to await till we had understood the matter more perfectly. I will expect then, since you will have it so (answered he roughly) Yes, cruel friend, I will expect; but know at least, that what you cause me to do is something more insupportable than the extremest misery, Yes, Laelius (continued he) the incertainty and suspense in which you detain me, has something more cruel in it then absolute despair; for if you would leave me to act like a man that hopes for nothing, I should keep no measure, I should observe no punctilios of seemliness, I should destroy my unworthy rival; and abandoning myself afterwards to my destiny, either soon enjoy Aemilia, or soon have recourse to death. I beseech you, Scipio (said I to him) suffer not yourself to be transported in this manner, consider whether you have reason to say what you do, and to take up such violent resolutions. I am not in a condition (answered he) to examine all these matters; I only consider that I adore Aemilia, that I lose that divine person, and that by the most horrid injustice that can be imagined. But you know not (replied I) whether Aemilia be lost to you; you cannot so much as know who could have discovered your designs, and who has committed the injustice that troubles you, and occasions your complaints. Ah! Laelius (answered he) the matter is not to be doubted of, none but Varro and Minutius could have known my design; 'tis beyond question, they believed that to oppose their detestable resolution, I would employ the assistance of my friends; and not to seek further, it appears they are sufficiently gracious with Claudia, to have told her part of it; so that, Laelius, my misfortune will have it so, that Claudia is become incensed against me, for going about to oppose a marriage which assuredly she approves, since she so ill interprets the attempt to break it. And without intimating to her in what manner the marriage was intended to be effected; 'tis certain she has only been informed of as much as was necessary to incense her against a person that would oppose it. But I shall soon make her understand by what fraud she is induced to commit an extreme injustice, in absolutely ruining a person who never had other designs then such as the greatest severity would account virtuous, and gratifying one who contrived a horrid insolence against her house. Yes, Laelius, I will open Claudia's eyes, and afterwards let Varro see, that though I make not use of wiles, yet I know how to discover them when they are used against me, and shall hinder the employers of them from using them with impunity. I should never end, Madam, if I should go about to relate to you all the expressions of this Illustrious Lover. I could not wholly gain his mind; he was strangely inquieted, and found no intervals of being so: but when he judged it convenient time to go to Aemilia; Let us go, Laelius (said he to me, let us go justify ourselves, and make it manifest, that if our innocence be persecuted, at least it deserves not to be unhappy. But, Scipio (answered I, observing his countenance extremely altered) I conceive you are not in a condition to go and reason with Claudia. How? Laelius (interrupted he) can you be so unjust, as to hinder me from going to Claudia? No, no, Laelius, I must go; for I conceive an accused person gives no great testimonies of his innocence, when he avoids the presence of the person that accuses him. But, Scipio (replied I) if you cannot contain yourself from going to Claudia, consider, I beseech you, that you ought not in the condition you are in, to expose yourself to the danger of being seen by Aemilia; for the air of your countenance is apparently changed, and the effects of love, jealousy, grief and choler, are easily legible in it. It matters not Laelius (answered he) I must see Aemilia, and I conceive it not necessary to show her a calm and serene mind, provided I make her see an innocent heart. But, believe me, Scipio, (replied I) methinks 'tis a pleasure to appear before a fair person whom we love, with a gallant and amiable air, and I conceive it not very advantageous, to show her a countenance wherein appears nothing but inquietude and fierceness, but the first wholly sullen and sad, and the latter gloomy and clouded. But, Laelius (answered he) I am capable of all things when I am to see Aemilia; I will enforce myself, I will compose my aspect; and if you discern inquietude and fierceness in it, you shall at least perceive nothing of sadness and discontent.  
At length, Madam, whatever I could urge more to this passionate lover, he was resolved to go to Claudia's house, and see the fair person he adored, evidencing to me that no attraction is more powerful than that of a person whom we love. But when we arrived there, we found all we had unprofitable; for instead of finding either Claudia or Aemilia, it was told us they were gone into the Country in the morning; but whether, or when to return, we could not be informed. Scipio received this answer like a stroke of Thunder; and beginning to think Aemilia was no longer in Rome, that great City suddenly seemed to him turned into a vast desert, and he be came infinitely more perplexed and afflicted than he had been ever before. He then was minded to go and walk upon the Rampants, imagining (as I apprehend) there was some satisfaction in beholding the campagne, and some pleasingness in breathing the air of the Country, whilst Aemilia did so too. But this contentment lasted but a little space, for he no sooner considered that perhaps himself was the cause, however innocent of Aemilia's departure, but he became exteamly afflicted: upon which addressing to me, in relation to his thoughts: Ah, Laelius (said he to me, sighing) this last unhappiness would have had something more insupportable in it then the other, if I had contributed to it, although I have done nothing but what I ought to do. For, let Scipio suffer the injustice which is done him, let him sigh and be miserable; this is capable of making me complain, and even of making me lose part of my reason; nevertheless my grief is in some manner comforted, when I consider 'tis for the adorable Aemilia I suffer these miseries. But my torment is incomparably greater, when I behold that divine person herself suffer, when I see her enforced to leave this fairest City of the world to go into solitude, and consider, that perhaps Scipio is the cause of it. Did Aemilia suffer what you mention, as an unhappiness (answered I) you would have cause to afflict yourself; But perhaps you are injurious to yourself, and at the same time you sigh, Aemilia is amongst divertisements, enjoys the delights of the Country, breathes the air with sweetness, hears the birds with pleasure, admires the enamel of the Meadows, and perhaps also pleases herself in observing the innocence and simplicity of the persons that make their usual abode there; so that instead of lamenting herself, she is perhaps ravished with having left Rome for a time. Ah! Laelius (cried he) to what end do you tell me all these fancies? How? (interrupted I) can you blame me for telling you the person you love is not unhappy? You ill construe my zeal; you ought at least to consider that what I spoke was only to satisfy, since I represented to you that Emilia was already tasting the pleasure which she is not yet in a condition capable of what would you have me do. Laelius (said he, sighing) I am unjust in blaming you, and desiring Aemilia were not perfectly happy at this hour: but, Laelius, I am amorous, and therefore you ought not to wonder at the extravangance of my sentiments; but you may know, that though I am not loved by Aemilia, and dare not hope to be so, yet 'tis some pleasure to me to think she is afflicted by leaving a City in which I am; and I should certainly resent great torment in imagining she were now enjoying all the pleasures you have mentioned. In sincerity, Scipio (answered I) your sentiments are admirable well regulated, since in the beginning of our discourse, the affliction alone of Emilia caused yours, and now you tell me you should not be satisfied if Emilia were not afflicted, and that yourself would be sensibly afflicted if she enjoyed contentments.  
Have I not already told you, Laelius (replied he) that I am amorous? Why therefore do you, (who are not) require reasons, where in the judgement of men that are free, there is nothing to be found but fancies. Nevertheless (added he) you would easily see that I have reason to apprehend things so differently, if you would consider the diversity of grounds I have to do so; and you would also better perceive that you ought not to wonder, if in the deplorable condition I am in, I afflict myself with all things. I had rather see (answered I) your mind a little more at quiet, and that to intermit afflicting yourself in thinking on Emilia; you would pass the rest of the day with a fair person to whom I shall lead you. Ah! Laelius (replied he) my afflictions too much preferable to the divertisement which you propose to me.  
Consider, I beseech you (answered I) that even for the interest of your love, you ought to go to some meetings, lest your absence from thence during that of Aemilia, give cause of suspicion to conjecture the passion you are possessed with. I should give more cause (replied he) if I resorted thither; since I should begin to do it only after Aemilia's departure; that is, when I can no longer see that fair person at her own house. But (said I to him) the City being extreme great, I would lead you into a quarter, where it is not known that you have been a constant frequenter of Aemilia. Then 'tis unprofitable for me to go thither to hide my passion (answered he.) Wherefore, Laelius, you ought not to urge me upon the pretext you allege, but rather be so complacential to take the air here with me a while, and talk a moment longer concerning the adorable Aemilia.  
Thus, Madam, I was constrained to walk still with Scipio, and entertain myself with him about the charms of Aemilia. But at length it growing late, and time for us to retire, we beheld two very handsome Horses passing into the City at the Gate Capena, which were lead by a servant. Scipio had no sooner cast his eyes upon the first which was a dapple Grace, and had a very rich and remarkable Saddle on his back; but he knew to whom it belonged; so that looking upon me and changing colour; That's Minutius' Horse (said he) himself cannot be far of; surely he accompanied Aemilia; and that which yet more troubles me, is, that Minutius would not ride in on horseback, which circumstance undoubtedly conceals some mystery.  
As he was speaking these words, we perceived Minutius indeed, who was with one of his relations, named Metellus, and was in truth very much troubled to meet us when he so little expected it. Which Scipio observing, you must acknowledge, Minutius, that you are much surprised in meeing us, where in probability we were not to be looked for. Yet I am not at all (answered he, affecting not to seem so) and certainly I know few things that are able to surprise me. I know some (replied Scipio) that will not surprise you, and particularly the departure of Aemilia; for I conceive no man is surprised with a thing he is not ignorant of, but on the contrary knows even to the least circumstances. True (answered Minutius, very much more perplexed then before, believing Scipio better informed then indeed he was) Emilia's departure has not surprised me, because I knew of it, and moreover accompanied that fair person. You declare this last circumstance very ingenuously (replied Scipio) for one that intended to conceal it by entering a foot into the City, and who having accompanied so fair a person, ought rather to have entered as triumphant. But after all, Minutius (added he) you are too much Varro's friend to be Emilia's lover; wherefore love, that affects mysteries, having no share in what we see you do, you must needs be too something too much Varro's friend, as I said, and perhaps you come from doing things for him which you would not willingly give way to be enquired into. You may inquire what you please (answered Minutius roughly) provided I serve my friend, I shall little trouble myself with what you judge of it. Perhaps, Minutius (replied Scipio) it would be well for you I had not at all examined the matter, for you would not then (added he fiercely) have been brought to make the experiment that Scipio is as little capable of suffering, as doing an injustice. Yourself shall experience (answered Minutius) that if I know how to render a service to my friends, I better know how to maintain what I do for them. Let us by that forthwith (interrupted Scipio impatiently) since I am with my friend, and Metellus with you, and there is yet day enough left to do it.  
Scipio had no sooner spoke these few words, but Minutius, Metellus, and myself, seemed ravished with joy; so that all four going some distance from the City, and having found a place that was secret enough, and very fit for our purpose, we presently drew our swords and began to close: I shall not particularlize this Combat, but; but I cannot omit to tell you, that I never beheld any man more sprightly, fierce and amiable than Scipio seemed to me, when he approached Minutius with his sword in his hand. I could not observe what he did afterwards, because Metellus and I were presently engaged. But some moments after, having been more fortunate than Metellus, whom I wounded in two places, and passing upon him seized the guards of his Sword, without receiving more than one slight hurt from him; Scipio came up to us to separate us. I looked upon him to see in what condition he was, and beholding the blood flow from his Arms; You are wounded (said I to him) yes, Laelius (answered he) with a cheerful, yet something fierce aspect; but withal, losing time (added he) let us go succour Minutius who has been more unfortunate than I. We immediately therefore went to Minutius whom we found lying on the ground, and dangerously wounded by a thrust through the body, and two others not so dangerous.  
Metellut, who well knew the valour of his kinsman, was strangely surprised to see him wounded in this manner; so that beholding him attentively, he considered his overcome with admiration.  
Thus this victory was not without glory to Scipio, for Minutius is one of the most valiant men in the world; and had he then had that prudence he afterwards learned under the great Fabius, after that occasion of his fight. Hannibal contrary to the advice of that Dictator, he would have been a very gallant man; but he was then of an humour too violent, and because he and Varro were by their intrigues, and a certain fortunate fierceness raised to the most important charges; they believed they should have the same success in all sorts o● enterpises, Yet matters did not always fall out as they expected, neither in their little affairs, nor in their grand attempts, as without question you have heard, Madam; for all the world knows, Hannibal would have totally defeated Minutius' Army, if the great Fabius had not come timely to his relief; as likewise all posterity will reproach the memory of the rash Varro, with the dreadful loss we sustained at Canna, and the deplorable death of the Illustrious Paulus Aemilius. But, Madam, not to leave Minutius without succour, I must tell you, that though we were all three wounded, yet we raised him up, and according to our best skill and conveniencies, endeavoured to staunch his blood. Which when we had done, and what for ourselves we could in such occasions, I went to call our slaves, whom we had commanded to wait out of the field where we fought, and causing Minutius and Scipio to be lead by them, and Metellus and myself slowly following them, we all four entered into a house near the Gate, the Master of which we knew was a very honest person. Immediately Chirurgeons were sent for, all things that were necessary provided, and our combat made known to our relations, who came secretly to visit us, and having reasoned about it, counselled us absolutely to leave the City as soon as we could. Wherefore about break of day, Minutius was carried to one of his relation's houses in the Country, whither Metellus accompanied him, and Scipio and I went to Ostia. Assoon as we were arrived there, my only care was to provide for our cure, for Scipio's thoughts were wholly upon Aemilia, and he gave himself again to be excruciated by his inquietudes, which his late encounter had suspended only for some moments. But our wounds being neither very great nor dangerous, we kept the chamber but a few days, and soon began to walk in the Garden belonging to the house where we were lodged, not daring as yet to appear in Ostia, till we had first learned how our affair stood at Rome. If the rumour of our quarrel did not spread abroad there much at first, that of our retreat was soon confusedly dispersed in Ostia; so that this also caused some prejudice to the affairs of Scipio, as you shall now understand. Receiving news from Rome time after time, and that ordinarily by night, one evening amongst the rest, we beheld a slave of Scipio's enter our chamber, who brought us a packet, & by the trouble of his countenance, testified he had some extraordinary matter to relate. He was no sooner entered, but addressing to Scipio, My Lord, (said he) I have something to tell you which I presume will because of no small surprise to you. Speak it then (answered Scipio) and do not amuse yourself to tell me superfluous matters. As I drew near towards Ostia (said he) and it was yet not late enough to enter into the Town, I purposed to hide myself behind one of those great hedg-rows that border upon the Road that leads from Rome; where having expected night, when I was going to re-enter into the way and finish my journey, I heard the noise of Horses which were coming to Ostia, and wondered when I beheld five or six Horsemen alight from their Horses, directly against the place where I was hid. Nothing being betvveen them and me but some bushes, I was easily able to observe their actions, and hear all they said. Now, I beheld amongst them, a man very richly clothed, but to speak more concisely, I beheld Varro there, who advanced himself two or three steps towards a man that came from Ostia, and addressed to him in great haste: Well, Titus (said Varro to him first) what says Claudia? What says Aemilia? All that you can wish they should (answered the man, whom I presently knew, having seen him a hundred times at Lucius' house) and I assure you, my Lord, (continued he) that Minutius could not have acted more handsomely for your interests. For when you went into the Country, and took Appius along with you; Minutius, who is not amorous of Aemilia, and consequently seemed wholly unsuspected in what he said, carried the Letter you know of; he named also two or three of Scipio's friends▪ and for my part, I added that his slaves passed to and fro before the house every night to observe us; and in short, Minutius so well managed the matter, and I endeavoured so well to second him, that we succeeded admirably, and Claudia, who had not much thought of you, who were not then at Rome, believed, and does still that Scipio could not endu●● to hear speak of the marriage between, Pyneas and Emilia, and had resolved to steal her away for one of his Kinsmen. But, My Lord, you will without question be surprised as well as I was, when you hear Scipio and Laelius are by all conjecture at Ostia, at least Claudia suspects so from a description made to her of two goodly young persons that keep themselves concealed in a house there. Upon which Claudia and Emilia, who is informed of all by her Mother since our departure from Rome, are extremely exasperated against them, and assuredly confirmed in a sentiment which will no question prove to your advantage. Nevertheless, My Lord, the residence of Scipio and Laelius there seems to me very suspicious, And I cannot comprehend, wherefore— I know upon what pretences they are there (interrupted Varro suddenly) I come from Rome, as you know, where I have learned the passages of a fray of theirs; but I wish to the Gods that what I hear from you, prove not true in relation to Scipio's and Laelius' being at Ostia. However (continued he, after a little reflecting upon what he had sad) advantage ought to be drawn from all things, and even the retirement of Scipio to Ostia, must be rendered serviceable to my design. Go therefore, Titus, begin anew to serve me, account that for nothing which I have already given you, and be assured your reward shall be proportionable to the greatness of your desert. Go show Claudia and her divine daughter a terrified countenance, assure them that Scipio lies hid in Ostia; say, 'tis to execute his design, and that a great multitude is to come to him from Rome this night; in a word, Titus, omit nothing that may serve me, and expect all things from my gratitude. In the mean time I will go give some other orders, and then offer my person to Claudia, with five or six of my friends with me, in reference to the News which I will pretend to have received concerning Scipio's design. If she favourably accept what I offer her, I shall be gloriously recompensed for it, with the possession of the charming Aemilia: for as soon as ever I have drawn a consent that will make me happy, I will challenge Scipio, to which honour indeed will seem to oblige me, but 'tis my love which will really constrain me more powerfully, to the end I may either rid myself of Scipio, who certainly will soon discover my Artifice and ruin me utterly, or perish myself to avoid seeing it discovered. But if, on the contrary, I be badly received, and my compliment be paid with signs of aversion and contempt, I shall have a fair pretext to betake myself to violence. I will speak it aloud, that I am resolved to serve Aemilia, even against her own will; and since she is wiling to be taken away violently, I will become the ravisher, and sooner die then forsake so amiable a person to any whatsoever: and in this case especially, Titus, your assistance will be necessary to me. As Titus seemed going to answer, a Horseman, whom Varro mistook for one of his own party, but was one that came alone to this City, passed by; upon which Varro fearing he might be perceived by others, dismissed Titus back again, and going aside into a little path, and followed by his a●●ndants, gave me liberty to bring you with all speed the intelligence I have related. Scipio's slave had scarce done speaking, but his Illustrious Master, who had been a thousand and a thousand times upon the point to interrupt him, was beginning to express his sentiments upon what he had heard; which he was not able to do at first, they were so tumultuous. It must be confessed he resented a sensible joy in understanding Aemilia was in Ostia, and having discovered in what manner he was betrayed; (for, Madam, he learned nothing from the mouth of Minutius, who was obstinate not to make the least discovery) but with all coming at the same time to think on the perfidiousness of Minutius and Varro, and on the adorable person who was to be carried away by that treachery, his choler became extremely violent; and this last passion having something more impetuosity than the other, seemed alone to possess him. Ah, Traitor! (cried he) ah perfidious! is it thus that thou betrayest me? Is this the course thou takest to attain the possession of the fairest person in the world? No, no. Traitor, thou shalt never have the success thou promisest thyself, and the Gods who have lately by mine arm punished thy complice, do not now discover thy crime to leave it with impunity. But, let us not lose time (added he in an impetuous manner) let us go; or rather fly, to punish the Traitor, since the concernment is to serve Aemilia.  
Ending these words, he took his sword, and without remembering that he was not absolutely cured of his wound, caused one to conduct him to Claudia's house, at the Gate of which we found seven or eight men with arms: Who, indeed, were Varro and his complices, and, as we were informed afterwards, stood there expecting Titus' answer, who was gone to advertise Claudia of their arrival, and of the cause that brought them; This infamous wretch having already spoken against Scipio all that the blackest perfidiousness could inspire him with, my illustrious friend did not stay to deliberate when he beheld those people at the Gate, but drew his sword and courageously set upon them. Are you here, traitor Varro (cried he with a fierce and menacing tone) are you run upon the punishment of your crime? Yes, I am here (answered Varro insolently) to your unhappiness, who come to punish yourself for the attempt you were preparing to commit. These words so augmented Scipio's choler, that he cast himself upon his enemy with such violence, that he wounded him the first pass he made at him. Varro, who was so far from being pusillanimous, that he has been always accused of rashness, was not dismayed at this onset; but on the contrary, being of a violent temper, grew enraged, and omitting the necessary care of guarding himself, sought to dispatch Scipio with one violent thrust; So that Scipio was also wounded. But his heart being perfectly the heart of a Hero, and that of Varro the heart of a Lion; Scipio wounded him deeply in three or four places, and was only slightly hurt himself in two: for though he fought with more love, more impetuosity and choler, yet he fought too with more judgement; so true it is that the valour of Scipio cannot be proportionably described, having something in it too great, and too extraordinary to suffer itself to be comprehended. In the mean time, Madam, our enemies being well armed, and stronger in number, we had perhaps at length been worsted, although Varro was already with-drawn from the combat, because our Host, who had guided us thither was wounded, and so was Scipio's slave, and I had received one wound in the body, and another in the arm. We had been worsted, I say, if an inhabitant of Ostia, who came to the beginning of the fray, had not called a great multitude together to his assistance to separate us. But, Madam, I still tremble when I think that at this time the perfidious Titus came forth from Claudia's house, and seeing Varro all covered with blood, who made no longer resistance; and withal, perceiving by the light of the Torches that were brought, Scipio's sword glittering in his hand, which carried death or dread on all sides; this villain, either to revenge Varro, or not to be discovered, resolved to kill this great person; and accordingly went behind him to run him through the body, if the Inhabitants of Ostia I mentioned, had not been near enough the Traitor to stop him. But he could not so well withhold his arm, but that notwithstanding that obstacle, the enraged wretch run him with a deep wound into the back.  
Now when the Inhabitants of Ostia had wholly separated us, and Scipio's slave, who beheld that action of Titus, had requited the traitor with a great wound too, our Host, who was not dangerously wounded, took care of us, and caused us to be carried to his house, where he sent to seek the Chirurgeons who attended on us before, Scipio and I were desirous to be in the same chamber where this Illustrious Roman, in the first place demanded news concerning our Host, and seemed very well satisfied when he understood he had received only a slight wound in the left arm. Then the Chirurgeons searched our hurts, and told us they were not mortal, though we judged by their countenances that they were very dangerous. After which having given them the first dressing, they caused our Host to enter into the chamber, who presently approached towards Scipio very respectively, and thanked him for his goodness in remembering him. 'Tis I am to thank you (answered the Illustrious Scipio) for your assistance; but since it has pleased the Gods (added he) that you have not been considerably wounded; I must desire you to do me an other service, in which there is neither danger nor difficulty, and which nevertheless is of no small importance to me. Go therefore (continued he, observing the man expected only his commands) go to Claudia's house, tell her she is abused, and that Varro is culpable, and I innocent. Moreover, tell her, that— But, no, (recollected he suddenly) I should lose too much time in recounting to you Varro's treachery; go, tell her only what I have said to you, and assure her that I am ready to justify both the one and the other.  
After Scipio had given this Commission, he commanded the slave I told you of, should come to him, having resolved to send him at the same instant to Claudia's house, there to convince Titus, and wholly discover the perfidiousness of Varro. After which, this Illustrious lover addressing to me; Well, Laelius, I am satisfied (said hetome with an air that spoke him really to be so, notwithstanding the great wounds he had received.) I am satisfied (said he) since the adorable Aemilia is now ready to understand the difference there is between the procedure of Scipio, and the perfidiousness of the Traitor that would destroy me and carry her away. So that Laelius, whether I die or be cured, I shall receive either fate without excess of sorrow or satisfaction. For when I consider I am upon the point to appear in Aemilia's mind such as I am, I resent a joy so sensible, that it effaces all other thoughts of whatever importance. Scipio pronouncing these words something loud, by reason of his passionate expressions, the Chyurgions who were retired a while to leave us to our rest, heard his voice; wherefore they returned presently, and entreated him with many reasons and importunities to forbear speaking, which Scipio promised them, because he had then no cause to neglect his life, or rather because he thought to find more sweetness in thinking on Aemilia, especially at the same time he conceived she was receiving the information of his innocence. As he was musing upon this with extreme satisfaction, our Host entered into our Chamber with a countenance which showed sufficiently he had not succeeded well in the Commission enjoined him. Scipio was at first so surprised at it, that he seemed struck dumb with amazement; but he was very sensibly afflicted when he was told Claudia would receive no message nor hear any thing from him, and that she was gone to offer Varro both her house and all kind of assistance. How? (cried he) is it possible that Claudia would hear nothing that Scipio sent to tell her, and that she is gone to offer both her house and all sort of assistance to Varro, who betrays hers to Varro, who at the same time that he receives her civilities, has designed to carry away her adorable daughter? But, Varro, thy falsehood shall soon be discovered (continued he) as if Varro had been present) and things shall soon be told Claudia in thy presence, which shall prove thy attempt and Titus' infidelity. Yes, Varro (added he) thy crime shall soon be known, thy accuser shall be a witness that both saw and heard thee, and who shall so exactly lay open the circumstances of thy perfidiousness, that thou shall not dare to disown it, though thou seest thyself accused by a slave, and a slave of thine enemy, and thy rival.  
As Scipio ended these words, he that he had sent to call the slave he was speaking of, entered our Chamber, and told him he could not find that slave, nor so much as hear any tidings of him. Scipio had no sooner heard these words, but lifting up his eyes to heaven, complete my destruction, cruel destiny (cried he) and seek not out such terrible and extraordinary means to increase the greatness of my misery.  
He had no time to proceed further, for the Chirurgeons hastened to represent to him the danger into which this agitation would cast him. I have no more rules to observe (interrupted he impatiently) your assistance is no longer necessary to me, and the wounds you endeavour to cure, afford the least part of the pains that I resent. But Scipio (said I to him, not to suffer him to abandon himself to despair) the injustice of Claudia will not injure for ever, and we shall without doubt find means to make her— Ah! Laelius (interrupted he, speak not, I beseech you) as you do; accuse not Claudia, I conjure you: if you see your friend die, yet at least add not to all his torments, that of hearing you term the Mother of the adorable Aemilia unjust. I am not capable of your virtue (replied I roughly) if I esteem it heroical, I also esteem it inhuman; and I conceive there is nothing more lawful for a miserable person than complaint. Well, Laelius (answered he sadly) let us pity ourselves; but I beseech you let us impute all we suffer to my unhappiness, and not accuse a person to whom we owe an infinite respect. I shall have as much respect as you please (replied I) yet at least suffer me to tell you, that after the esteem you have acquired, and the gallant actions you have achieved; Claudia has too lightly given credit to what was suggested to her to your prejudice. Alas! Laelius (answered he sighing) it must be believed, that the esteem you mention is ill grounded, if yet it be true that I have gained any; and that what I have done hitherto is little considerable, since a person who cannot be deceived in her judgement, has not been sufficiently prepossessed in favour of me, to be able to resist the first assaults of calumny. I might have a thousand things to allege (replied I) for you, and against Claudia, but I will not continue a discourse which I see is prejudicial to your health. Let us speak, I beseech you, Laelius (said he) let us speak of my unhappiness, without accusing Claudia of it, and without taking heed to a health which deserves no longer to be cared for. I answered nothing to whatever he spoke afterwards. But he was transported to call me cruel friend, and to press me with the most affecting language he could use; in which nevertheless I resisted him, and refused to the most illustrious friend that ever was, the sole thing I ought not to have granted him. Yet my silence caused not his agitations to cease absolutely▪ he still complained against that strange medley of infelicities that befell him; he set his thoughts a thousand and a thousand times upon the glorious beauty of Aemilia, to render himself more unhappy, in thinking afterwards on the injustice which had injured him in the mind of that divine person.  
Thus, Madam, this illustrious Lover would neither listen to the Chirurgeons entreaties nor mine, and was tormented the rest of the night with such violent troubles, that the next morning the Chirurgeons began to affirm there would be no hope of his recovery, if the violence of his inquietudes dured some hours longer. But while he was in this deplorable condition, and no body was permitted to enter into our Chamber, one came to whisper me in the ear, that Claudia desired to see him, if it might be without disturbance. Claudia desires to see Scipio? (answered I) Alas! tell me whither or no you know her so well, as not be deceived, before you speak further. 'Tis she (answered the messenger) and I know her so well, that I can assure you of it, and tell you moreover that an Inhabitant of Ostia leads her, and that she is followed by Aemilia, and two or three of her attendants. Go then (said I to him) and cause her to come hither; and in the mean time addressing to Scipio, whom I would prepare for the joy he was to receive, lest being suddenly surprised, he might undergo some more vehement agitation by a contrast in his heart, surprising between a joy that would offer to enter into it, and a deep sorrow that would dispute its admission. But, Madam, all I could do was unprofitable: For, besides that, I had not time, to speak much, Scipio was so little disposed to believe he was upon the point to receive the visit I speak of, that Claudia entered before he believed it really. It would be difficult indeed, Madam, to express to you the condition this Illustrious sick person than was in: for he had no sooner cast his eyes on the fair person that followed Claudia, but he seemed like a man that were on a sudden brought into the rays of the Sun, after a long continuance in the obscurity of a Dungeon. He began to behold Aemilia with so much intentness, that he forgot, as I knew afterwards, both the treasons of Varro, and your honour which he received from Claudia. He did not so much as remember the wounds he had upon him, and the condition they had brought him to; in short, he looked only upon Aemilia, he thought of nothing but Aemilia, and remembered not any thing but this adorable Lady, with which object his mind and heart were wholly taken up. Yet this did not hinder him from being extremely weak and faint, as you may easily judge; so that when Claudia came near him, and bowed down her head to make him a compliment, he would have enforced himself to return her the civilities which sick persons that receive visits are usually able to perform, but his strength failed him, and all he could do was to behold Claudia, with a certain attention that sufficiently showed he thought he saw that in a dream which he really beheld. I beseech you, Scipio (said she to him) consult your generosity before you hear what I have to say to you; and believe, I conjure you, that if I have done an injustice, I have done it innocently, and in a manner by force. For in truth (contnived she) Minutius, who seemed to me neither your enemy, nor Varro's intimate friend, told me several times, that your resorting to our house was only to find out some means how you might bring to pass a marriage of Aemilia with the Son of Manilius who is your Kinsman. He afterwards came to tell me of certain Verses which the King of Illyria had written, which testified sufficiently that he pretended to our Alliance, as which Lucius himself confirmed to me not long after. This deceit came to my knowledge, as I remember, two or three days after the departure of Lucius and Pyneas; and as I was wondering before him, that some persons belonging to had been seen passing too and fro a hundred times before our Gate the night before, he took his time to tell me that the pretensions of Pyneas having interrupted your purpose, you designed to take some shorter course, although violent, to bring your intention to pass. Accordingly, Madam, (continued he) I know that Scipio has engaged five or six of his relations or friends, which I shall name to you, to assist him in what he designs.  
I know also that he has endeavoured to gain one of your Domestics, named Titus; and for an evident proof of what I tell you, behold, Madam (said he to me) a Note that is fallen into my hands, which Scipio writ to Appius, who dwelling near your Palace, might apparently more conveniently serve him then all his other relations. After these words he presented me a Note indeed, which I knew presently to have been written by you, having seen your Letters many times showed me by Publius while you were in Greece; at which being greatly amazed, I read it over often enough to be able to remember the very words of it; which were these,  
I came to you to your house to speak with you, concerning a very inportant affair, but finding you not there, and perhaps my occasion requiring your assistance this night, I have left this Note for you, to entreat you to be in a readiness to issue forth well accompanied, in case you hear any tumult near Lucius' Palace, and to come to my aid if I meet with resistance there, which yet in all appearance I shall not.  
Now Scipio, Does not your Note speak very precisely? Does it not fully enough confirm what Minutius had before told me? Withal, this assured me at the same time, that you caused it to be told him that you would give him an excessive recompense, provided he would serve you in a very important affair you had to communicate to him: And thus I became at length fully persuaded of the truth of their suggestions; for besides what I have told you, I was also assured by some, that the night following, several persons belonging to you, were seen coming to observe what was doing at our house; this, Scipio, caused me to resolve to forsake Rome for some time, without so much as declaring to any whether I went, because notwithstanding your pretended crime, I could neither hate you, nor forget the obligations I had to you; but I was glad to deprive you of the means of executing the design I believed you intended, and also to avoid, lest our houses should fall into an open feud: I communicated my purpose to Minutius, to whom I took myself to be very much obliged; he presently approved it, and having offered me all services in his power, he told me afterwards, that believing himself obliged to make the discovery to me he had done, he was engaged to embrace my interests in this affair, whether soever it came to break forth, or— Alas! Minutius (interrupted I) how do you treat me? Can you believe I would embroil you with your friends, and so ill acknowledge the favour you have but now done me so generously? But Madam (said he) what will you say to Scipio when he comes to clear himself upon the change which he will observe in your comportment towards him? I will say nothing (answered I) But Madam (replied he) who so says nothing in these conjunctures, says all things in effect; so that it will be better for you to tell him one of the reasons you have, not to treat him as formerly, then to say nothing at all to him: And since you will not have the matter published (added he) do not mention that which would most sensibly incense him, do not treat him as the Ravisher of Aemilia, but only tell him, you do not take it well, that he intermeddles in the breaking of a marriage that is propounded for her, without expressing what marriage you mean. Upon these reasons I was induced to speak in that manner to your Friend Scipio, as without question you have understood, and I after that left Rome for the causes I have told you: But for that you already know all that is passed since, as a Slave of yours lately assured me, it remains only to tell you that Fabius is here (continued she, pointing at the Inhabitant of Ostia who had lead her) to whom we have great obligations, and whose prudence alone has discovered all these matters I have related to you, as himself can testify. The Gods, My Lord (said Flavius) and not my prudence, have cleared up the lustre of your virtue, and dissipated the cloud wherewith black calumny endavoured to envelop it. But to let you know in few words, in what manner they have served themselves of me, to lay open so detestable a treachery, I am to tell you that I was the person who coming from Rome last night, beheld the conference of Varro, upon the way which the circumstance of time presently rendered suspicious to me. So that being arrived at home, as I was considering on what I had seen, I heard a noise about the Gate of this Lady's house, which is but a few steps from mine, which caused me to run to see what the matter was, and afterwards call my Neighbours to my aid, to part the fray. At which time I perceived a man whom I called to mind I had seen in the conference upon the way to Ostia, going behind you to kill you; I opposed his purpose immediately, and seized upon his arm; but my zeal proving less powerful than his rage, I could not wholly stop the blow which yet did not pass unpunished: for at the same time, a man whom we since understood belongs to you, rewarded him with a great wound through the body. Whereby judging by his stroke, that the villain I had seized was one of Varro's party, since he that wounded him was in all probability of yours (for, My Lord, I had learned your name, and that of Varro confusedly pronounced in the tumult.) I also caused this man to be seized whom I believed belonged to you. And so causing them both to be put in a place of surety, I hoped to draw from their mouths some discovery of your quarrel, that I might afterwards acquaint this Lady with it, or send to Rome to advertise some person of eminent quality, who might come and acommode it. My design has very well succeeded; for having brought your slave to give me information, he repeated to me all the relation which he the last night made to you.  
After which examining, Titus, concerning the same, he saw himself pressed by so many particular circumstances which I laid before him, that being passed hope of enjoying reward of his treason, by reason he has but few days longer to live, he ingenuously confessed the truth to me, and excited as great admiration in me of your detestation of the crime of Varro and Minutius. You may judge, My Lord, I lost no time; but hastened forthwith to the house of this Lady, and declared to her the matter as I had understood it; upon which she desired to come hither to you, assoon as the astonishment raised by my discourse permitted her. Great Gods! (cried Scipio then) I render you thanks; after which casting his eyes upon Claudia with as much joy and respect as he was able to express in this condition; I crave your pardon, Madam, (said he to her) for having contributed, though innocently, to the causing of your inquietude. But, Madam (added he) some moments after) wherefore have you taken the trouble to come yourself? could you not have sent some one of your attendants to come— Alas! Scipio (answered she) how do you treat me? I came with an extreme tenderness to desire your pardon myself, for the injustice I have done you, to request you to forget it, and to cause you and your friend to be brought to my lodgings, to the end I may have the greater care of you. Believe not that Varro has been there (added she) for he would not accept of the offer I made him to acquit myself of the obligation I conceived I had to him; but assoon as he learned that you were not dead, he caused himself to be carried out of Ostia, tormented, no question with the remorse of his detestable intentions. But, Scipio, there is great difference between you and Varro, for, besides divers great obligations which I really have to you, there has always been a very friendly correspondence between our families, and I have ever entertained a great dearness and esteem for you; and therefore I have resolved to cause you to be carried to my house; or if that cannot be done without danger, to come myself hither every day, to see that you be healed with the greatest care and diligence possible. Ah! Madam (said Scipio)— do not not enforce yourself to reply (interrupted she) for your condition disables you from resisting me, and from speaking too. In the mean while I leave you to compose your mind to quiet, which, no doubt, has been agitated with a thousand different thoughts during the relation we have made you; and I go to your friend to justify myself with him, and impart to him what I have already told you. In speaking which words, she came to me, with Fabius also, because she perceived Scipio was offering to make her a remerciment, which might have injured his health: and as I perceived Aemilia only making a reverence to Scipio as she passed before him, and so following her Mother. How? Madam (said I as vehemently as my weakness would permit, and addressing to Claudia) will you suffer a person whose interests Scipio has engaged in, to pass before him without speaking so much as one word to him? Aemilia is not accustomed to speak much where I am in presence (answered Claudia) and I conceive she accounts it unmeet to begin to violate that decorum to the prejudice of Scipio's health. Provided Scipio speak not (replied I) you have nothing to fear; besides, I apprehend there is some kind of power in the aspect of a very fair person to dissipate the sadness of a sick person. Speak to Scipio then (said Claudia, turning towards Aemilia) though I refer not to the reason which Laelius alleges of your beauty; but suffer him not to answer you. Accordingly, Madam, Aemilia went and sat down near Scipio's bed, and whilst Claudia, Fabius, and I were in discourse apart; this Illustrious Lover (as he after told me) took this opportunity to mention his passion to the adorable person who gave it birth. For Aemilia having at first beheld Scipio with a little blushing, she began to speak to him with so great a sweetness, that the most insensible persons in the world would have been affected with it. I did not conceive myself (said she to him) obliged to make you a compliment; for having done you no injustice, saving in my submission to the sentiments of Claudia, I believed myself obliged to nothing more than to yield with greater pleasure to the sentiments contrary to those whereof you might accuse us as of a great crime. Ah! Madam, (interrupted our passionate infirm) how good and how generous you are, in being pleased I should die the most contented of men, by informing me then that the only person of the world; for whom— Scipio (interrupted she likewise) I am forbidden to suffer you to speak, lest it be prejudicial to your health. If you prohibit me to speak (answered he) only for the preserving of my life, I shall lose it through joy, Madam, provided, that without losing respect, I may tell you that I die yours. Scipio (replied she) Why will you give me more causes than one not to hear you? is it, that you would be unjust towards me, because you believe I have done you an injustice? Alas! Madam (answered he) why will you not hear the most respectful of all Lovers, who never dared to mention his passion to you, but when he is dying? And why do you term a man unjust, who adores the only person that best deserves the adorations of all the earth? Well, Scipio (said she) I return to Claudia, since you will have it so. Go, Madam (answered he) while this unfortunate person betakes himself to die, since you will have it so: yet he will not die (added he with a weak and dying voice, though he enforced himself to speak) but after having declared before the fairest person that ever lived, that he dies less by reason of the wounds he has received, then of love— He could not finish what he intended to say; love was the last word he pronounced, which I believe he could not have reached to, if there had not been infinite sweetness in pronouncing it before the person beloved.  
In brief, Madam, my illustrious friend fell into a swound by having spoken after a too passionate manner; for the pitiful condition into which he was reduced by a great loss of blood, followed with a thousand violent agitations; and the denial of Aemilia to hear him; though it was after a manner extremely civil, did not a little contribute thereunto. That fair person was so affected with this accident, that she immediately made a great shriek, and testified as much sorrow as amazement. After which turning towards us, as Claudia was hastening to see what the matter was; Ah! Madam (said she to her) Scipio is dead. Scipio dead! cried Claudia and I together) O Gods (continued I, casting up mine eyes to heaven with the greatest sorrow that ever I resented) can you suffer Scipio to perish in so unjust a quarrel? Will you suffer so admirable a life to be extinguished in its beginning? and can you think it enough to show to the earth but transiently a Haro, whom it seemed you had destinated for the most memorable exploits, by the grand qualities you so liberally favoured him with? I continued thus to bewail the infelicity of my friend, and beseech the Gods for his preservation, not being then able to assist him saving by vows and prayers. And indeed the Gods in a short space restored him to us, whether it were that they would not, a work which they had so excusably framed, should be of so little continuance; or would not withdraw so great a prop from the City of Rome, which they protect with a goodness, of which all the world has seen indubitable testimonies during the war which Hannibal brought into Italy. So the Chirurgeons recovered this Illustrious person, though with extreme difficulty, who opened his eyes at last after several cordials, and began to give us some hope. But when he became capable of well discerning the objects that were about his bed, he assumed new vigour, by perceiving the lovely eyes of Aemilia were wet, and that apparently some tears had dropped from them. And indeed Claudia and Aemilia could not without weeping behold such a person as Scipio in so great a danger, and even dying for their quarrel, to whom they had so great obligations, and as yet given him no tokens of the gratitude they pretended to testify to him. Wherefore they went not forth of our Chamber till they had seen Scipio in as good a condition as he was in at their coming to him; though Claudia insisted no more to have us carried to her house, because the Chirurgeons judged it unfitting.  
Assoon as they were gone, Madam, Scipio related to me the discourse he had with Aemilia, and then told me he believed the remedies applied to him would be unprofitable, since it did not please Aemilia he fhould live. I cannot, Scipio (interrupted I) suffer this your injustice, and without doubt you would not speak in this manner, if you had seen the grief of that fair person. I oberved well (answered he) that by all appearance she had shed some tears. But, Laelius, this does not fully satisfy me, because most certainly she believed she bestowed them on my death. Should what you say be true (replied I) have you any reason to conclude she would not have you live, since your seeming death caused her to weep? Ah! Laelius (answered he) do not deceive yourself, but believe there is a great difference between these two respects, for it is usual enough to be effected with the death of any whatsoever. But it does not often happen that any persons interess themselves to contribute towards the contented life of others who are indifferent to them. So that, Laelius (added he, though he saw I could not approve his speaking) Aemilia forbidding me to speak to her of my passion, forbids me also to live; for to tell you in a word what I think, since I know you desire I should not speak much, it is an undoubted truth that 'tis impossible I should live without loving Aemilia, or that I should live without speaking to her of it; and if she has not the goodness to suffer me to do so, then take your measures accordingly (added he) either to preserve my life, or to prepare yourself to see me separated from you by a death, which will without doubt be cruel to me for more than one cause. The Gods will preserve us from that unhappiness (replied I) and I believe moreover Aemilia will never consent to the loss of an Illustrious Roman, whose crime consists only in declaring to her, that one of the most worthy persons of the world dies for love of her, but for a love so respectful, that he presumes not to discover it but tremblingly, and when he is upon the point to die of the wounds which he has lately received for her, having embraced her interests in the most generous manner that can be imagined. No, no, Scipio, she is too reasonable to carry her cruelty so far as you apprehend; and I pass higher, and believe she is not displeased that you love her; but for that she make profession of a scrupulous virtue, she judges it not becoming to listen to a Declaration of love without endeavouring to impose you silence out of decency. But according to the knowledge I have of her, I believe she would have strangely ill-heated any other besides you. For Ladies of great quality and eminent virtue, are very difficult in admitting such discourse as we are speaking of, for that they will not their hearts should be attaqued by any, being determined to dispose of them only according to the pleasure of the persons to whom nature has made them subject. Nevertheless I despair not of success for you with Aemilia; and if you will promise me to yield to all things for the promoting of your cure, I promise you I will act not unprosperously with the person you love. Ah! Laelius, if you would— I have done Scipio (interrupted I) and I cannot suffer you to speak longer. These last words caused my dear friend to be silent, who was more apprehensive of displeasing me then injuring his own health, and afterwards suffered any course to be taken for his cure.  
Not long after, Madam, an occasion of serving my friend with Aemilia presented itself. For Claudia herself visited us, and daily came to see in what condition we were, though she had sent twice or thrice before for the same cause. So that as she was pleased from time to time to give such orders concerning us as were necessary, her adorable daughter often remained near my bed, not venturing to approach that of Scipio alone. Whereby it was easy for me to take my time to speak to that fair person, and to let her know that she had really the power of life and death over my Illustrious friend. You speak not seriously, Laelius (answered she blushing, and I think you doubt not, but your friend would soon be in perfect health, if my cares could effect any thing; for in your choosing me for your friend (continued she) you ought so to know, I am any of sufficient goodness, as to believe that these kind of reproaches cannot be cast upon me but with injustice. What I have spoken, Madam, (replied I) was in the greatest seriousness possible, and the accident you beheld here, not long since leaves no room for the doubt of it. But, Madam (proceeded I) the sequel of it will be much more lamentable, & unless you give Scipio some testimonies of that goodness you say you make profession of, you will see him die infallibly within a few days, and you will also assuredly see grief will cause me to follow him. So that, Madam, you must either prepare yourself to behold that misery, or admit the declaration of the most respectful passion that ever was resented. Aemilia perceiving I spoke with an air that sufficiently intimated the correspondence of my words & thoughts, and remembering likewise the extreme danger wherein she had seen Scipio, appeared a little mollified; but she did not wholly yield, and would not promise me to permit Scipio to speak of his passion to her. For, I wonder, Laelius (said she) you should be so instant with me as you are, since a friend is much more obliged to cure his friend of a weakness he observed in him, than a Virgin is to hearken to things which seemliness forbids her to suffer. Neither does seemliness prohibit you to suffer the passion of my friend (answered I) nor is that passion a weakness, since you, Madam, are the person that have excited it, and given it birth in a heart perfectly illustrious. But, Madam (continued I) not to lose time, answer me, but in the name of the Gods answer favourably; Will you suffer Scipio to love you, or will you suffer him to die? Alas! Laelius (replied she) why do you please yourself in afflicting me? and wherefore do you porpound things to me which I ought not to hear, much less consider which to choose? But, Laelius (continued she) perceiving her answer, deeply affected me, to show you that I am good, I will myself go offer my friendship to Scipio, I will withal desire his, and entreat him to chase away all other sentiments that he pretends to have for me. And accordingly after these words, this fair person without expecting any answer, went to Scipio, and having a while beheld him with blushing and silence, because she immediately observed a thousand tokens of his passion in his countenance; I come (said she to him) to desire a favour of you, Scipio; but in the name of the Gods do not refuse it to me. Ah! Madam (answered the passionate Scipio) why do you not forthwith command the person, that of all the world owes you the most implicit and perfect obedience? Nevertheless, I will not tell you (replied she) what I desire to obtain of you, unless you first promise to grant it.  
These words gave Scipio some suspicions, so that he mused upon them a little; a●ter which suddenly resolving, speak it, Madam, (said she) and if you command me not to cease loving you, without doubt you shall be obeyed. Well, Scipio (answered she) if I desire you should love me, would you do that which— Ah! Madam (interrupted he impatiently) why do you make a question so cruel to me of such matters? Command, Madam, command (added he transported with his love) and if the business be about serving you, I will do things, as infirm as I am, that shall astonish all the earth. I require none of those great things of you, (answered she) I come only to request you to act with moderation, and to cause you to change the tumultuous sentiments you have for me, into those of friendship. In a word, Scipio, I come myself to desire your friendship, and to offer you mine. I will none of your friendship (interrupted he roughly) no, Madam, I will none of your friendship; I had rather die the unhappiest of all men, and die your lover, then live with a general esteem, then live with all the honour and glory that can be wished, and live no more but your friend. Yes, Madam, I shall love you during my life with the same ardency I do; I should even increase the violence of my passion if it were possibly to be augmented; and I consider all that love you not in the same measure, as stupid people, without pleasure, without honour, and without life. Yes, Madam (added he again) I esteem them such as I have said; and if friendship could subsist between two rivals, I should have already wished a thousand and a thousand times, that Laelius loved you as I do; for me thinks he spends a languishing and shameful life, because he lives without love for you. These passionate words extremely confused the fair person that heard them (as she told me afterwards) for she considered that the Illustrious Lover who uttered them, was the person of the world that best merited her esteem. For, besides youth, goodliness of person, greatness of courage, charms of wit and generosity of mind which she observed in Scipio, she considered also that this Hero had not been reduced to the extremity wherein she beheld him, but only by having showed her; and that if he was upon the point to expire, it was only through the violence of his love to her, which he had not declared but in the most respectful manner that can be imagined. But this severe Lady retaining still some remainder of scruple in her heart, which prohibited entry to a certain tenderness, which she felt was seizing on it, she answered her Illustrious Lover, that she could no longer suffer such discourse. Alas Madam, (replied he sadly) add also that 'tis their pleasure that I should not live. In sincerity, Scipio (said she to him, perceiving his grief would make an end of that little strength was left him, after the agitations I told you of) you have no reason to afflict yourself as you do, and I conceive you would be injust, if you would oblige me to suffer the passion you say you have, after having taken the liberty to refuse a friendship, I offered you myself, which perhaps no other would have refused. I do not pretend, Madam (answered he with a lower and weaker voice) to oblige you to any thing whatsoever, not so much as to have any regret for my death, which you are about to be the cause of. Yes, Madam, I betake myself to die, since you will have it so; and did I not fear to lose the respect I owe you, by making you see fatal objects, I would at this moment, leave of what is applied to my wounds in order to preserving my life. Scipio ened these last words with so familiar accent, and in so languishing a manner, that Aemylia perceived he was again falling into a sound. Upon which rising up suddenly and being throughly mollified, Live (said she to him) live Scipio, I beseech you, I conjure you. But Madam, (answered he with a weak and trembling voice) you know well what you must suffer, in order to preserve my life. Well, Scipio (replied she, letting fall a few tears from her lovely eyes) I will suffer it, to avoid consenting to your death; my constancy yields at length to your importunateness; I esteem you sufficiently, and have obligations to you great enough to conform me to resolve to suffer this kind of persecution from you, when I cannot avoid it. But, Oh admirable change! Aemylia had no sooner done speaking, but Scipio resumed new strength; such power have the words of the person loved to penetrate even to the heart, and fortify it against the attaques of excruciating passions. Scipio, I say, assumed new vigour, and amorously beholding the fair person that began to be favourable to him; I will live, Madam, since 'tis your pleasure (said he with a stronger voice) and moreover I will live happy, since 'tis your pleasure I should live.  
As Scipio ended these words, Claudia entered into our Chamber, accompanied with Publius and my father, whom she had sent to Rome, to advertise of all that had passed, they were also followed by seven or eight of our relation, who came to testify their obliging sentiments of our unhappiness. But for that they spoke but little, and that too after a manner sufficiently sad. I shall not repeat their discourse to you. But I shall content myself with intimating to you, that our ordinary Chirurgeons, with those our friends brought from Rome, having entreated the company to withdraw, they all did so, and left us to our repose; of which then Scipio began first to be capable. But, Madam, I am desirous to leave him to take it, as also to give you liberty to go to yours; for I believe it is extremely late, and that extraordinary watchings are neither agreeable nor advantageous to fair persons.  
Laelius here broke off his discourse, and the fair Auditory beheld one another as if they expected whether or no they should desire him to continue it. But for that they judged, that besides the unseasonable lateness of the night, it might be incommodious to Laelius to speak yet longer, the referred they sequel of Scipio's adventures to the next morning: After which they gave Laelius very obliging thanks, and to show him some proofs of their attention, reflected a little on the most remarkable passages of the History he had related to them. Which done, the fair Princess of Hippo gave the good-night to Nadalia, and having embraced and kissed that amiable Virgin, retired to her own Chamber, being accompanied thither by Lelius. The next morning Palmira and Nadalia were more early than their ordinary custom; and Nadalia being ready sooner than Palmira, went to the Chamber of that fair Prinncess, whither they afterwards sent to call Lelius, assoon as they were in a condition to be seen by him. This Illustrious Roman repaired thither immediately, and knowing with what impatience Palmira and Nadalia expected the continuation of Scipio's History, without losing time he seated himself near these two fair persons, and resumed his discourse in these terms, addressing it again to Palmira.  
The relation of our sickness being not that which you desire, Madam, if you please I shall pass over in silence all the particular circumstances of it, and proceed to tell you, that when we were out of our danger, Claudia, Aemilia, and all our relations departed from Ostia, where they notwithstanding left us, either for that they accounted the air of that City better than that of Rome, or believed the numerous visits we should be forced to receive immediately at Rome, would be incommodious to us. But before their departure, Scipio had a time of speaking of his passion once more to Aemilia, and I had the happiness to confirm in to two or three conversations the friendship that fair person was pleased to honour me with. By which means I heard some days after her departure from Ostia, that she gave many advantageous testimonies of me at Rome, commending both my wit and my nature upon all occasions, and daily enquiring tidings concerning me; which caused me to think myself obliged to testify my acknowledgements of her civilities in a Letter, to which she had the goodness to answer. How? Lelius (interrupted Nadalia) will you receive Letters in our presence without letting us partake of the gallantries in them, being apparently not written in the serious stile of those Letters of business which you recited to us before? You have reason, Nadalia, (answered Lelius) there is without question some peasingness in them; and since you desire to hear them, perhaps I may be able to satisfy you. That which I writ to Aemilia, was, as I remember, conceived in these terms.  
Laelius to Aemilia.  
YOu seem ignorant, Madam, that you do me the greatest displeasure in the world, by endeavouring to make me pass for a wit. For I imagine, that at such times you think not aright of me, but forget I am sick. For, is there any thing, Madam, more contrary to such a person, than one that keeps his bed? then one, I say, that suffers only with regret what he ought most of all to seek, whose taste is almost continually depraved, and cannot sleep when all the world is at rest; and to express his unhappiness in few words, who is unable to come to you? Pity me therefore, Madam, if you please, for this last infelicity, and I shall be undoubtedly more satisfied then with your Elegies with me; and for accomplishment of my joy, if you wish me health, wish it me I beseech you, to the end I may speedily be in a condition to visit frequently the most fair, most Illustrious and generous friend in the world.   

I will never pardon you, Laelius (said Nadalia) for going to deprive us of the satisfaction which your Letter has given us; for I find something in it perfectly handsome and ingenious. Well, Nadalia (answered Laelius) to deserve my pardon, I will endeavour to call to mind a Letter which Scipio sent at the same time, and was written as you may judge after a different manner, being of a passionate strain, though not without sweetness and pleasantness; it was almost in this manner.  
Scipio to Aemilia.  
HOw happy, Madam, should I be, were I but owner of Laelius' wit? for than you would have the goodness to speak of me, and continually inquire news concerning me; and perhaps you would wish I should write to you often, or not be so remote from you. But now, Madam, I have none of all these advantages: yet if you refuse me them only because I love you, I am extremely joyful to be deprived of them; for I had rather have all the passion which inflames me for you, then possess all the wit of Laelius.   

This Letter begins to appease us (said the Princess of Hippo) and think there wants only Aemilia's answer to conclude our reconciliation. We shall not be long enemies, Madam (answered Laelius) for if my memory fails me not, Aemilia answered me in these terms.  
Aemilia to Laelius.  
MOst certainly, Laelius, you understand not the consequence of what you do, when you write me such agreeable Letters concerning your sickness; for you expose yourself to the danger of making your recovery feared; if you must always write in ●his manner, or at least you constrain your friend to read a letter with delight, which contains only the miseries, which you endure. Write not therefore, I beseech you, in this strain▪ since 'tis not just you should afford me contentment while you enjoy none yourself; friendship does not allow it, Laelius, but is so far from suffering that difference between us, that it always endeavours to render those equal whom it binds. Wherefore as you have too much goodness to wish I were sick too, so you are concerned in point of friendship to labour to obtain a health speedily equal to mine: which I wish you, Laelius, and acknowledge freely to you, that I prefer your conversation before your handsome Letters.   

You see in what obliging terms Aemilia had the goodness to answer me, and this was the Postscript which she writ for Scipio.  I wish your Illustrious friend a speedy cure. But, Laelius, I wish with all my heart, that that cure be perfect. 
I had not no sooner broken open the seal, but Scipio looked with extreme impatience whether there were an answer in my Letter for him; but he was sensibly afflicted when he beheld there was none. Indeed he believed at first Aemylia would speak of him in that of mine, but he soon perceived she did not: upon which his grief would have been insupportable, if the sight of the Characters traced by the fair hand of Aemylia had not given him some contentment, and he had not receivded a little more by the Postscript she had written for him. I perceived he was really ravished with joy, when he observed the delicacy of wit which appeared in Aemylias Letter. But Madam, as a lover sometimes fancies pleasures to himself from all things, so it often falls out, that he makes every thing poison, and frames torments to himself, where he might really find satisfaction▪ Thus Madam, was it with my Illustrious Friend; for on a sudden he became extremely sad, and the wit which was replendent in Aemylia's Letter, and that dearness which might be observed in her Postscript became to him matter of discontent, which I presently took notice of by the alteration of his countenance. For he beheld me with an air, wholly different from that wherewith he had read Aemylia's Letter; after which he expressed to me certain sentiments which came into his mind at that time, with which I was extremely surprised. Ah! Laelius (said he to me) this Letter of Aemylia and her Postscript deeply afflict me. Yet they ought to produce a contrary effect in you, (answered I) and I conceive a Letter written by the hand of a fair person, and that in a very pleasant strain, aught to inspire joy into the heart of a lover that reads it; besides the Postscript you speak of, seems to me to contain something of sweetnss and obligingness, which ought rather to satisfy then afflict you. Ah! Laelius, you are not a lover (replied he) since you speak in this manner; for I know nothing could be more serene for me, than this writing of Aemylia: for it is impossible that that ungentle person could write to you without thinking of me, especially in this conjuncture; For in that she indulges her wit, notwithstanding that thought, it is easy to judge she is insensible for Scipio, since the remembrance of that unhappy lover excites no trouble in her heart, which might hinder her from writing with such exactness and pleasantness: But, Laelius (added he, taking the Letter from me, and reading again the Postscript written in it) this it is that speaks much cruelty to me, that Aemylia wishes I were insensible for her, and seems in a manner to make slight of reigning in my heart; for the latter words of her Postscript leave me all possible grounds to imagine so? But, Laelius, says this insensible person to you, I wish with all my heart that his cure be perfect. What can you imagine, Laelius, more cruel for me then these words: But Aemylia (continued he, as if that fair person had been present) I will never be cured in the manner you wish, and I will adore you all my life, though you have the rigour to wish me a kind of recovery which I dread much beyond the most terrible death. I will not accuse you Scipio at this time (said I to him) for having too much wit, as you did but now Aemylia; but whereas you told me I did not comprehend things, because I am not a Lover, I shall tell you that yourself do less, because you are. For do not you know (continued I,) that 'tis a part of decency and modesty, for a Virgin to make wishes of this nature, which you complain of; and moreover that they are many times very glad to make unprofitable wishes? Therefore, Scipio you are unjust to afflict yourself as you do, and more so in desiring Aemylia should write to me without debonarity and pleasantness of wit; for since you are not prohibited to turn matters to their advantage, is it not more reasonable you should imagine Aemylia is willing to write gallantly, when she knows you are to read what she writes, and presumes not to do those things uningeniously, which must come to your sight. Those thoughts, Laelius (interrupted he) are too flattering, and if I were capable of them, I should not only be ignorant of Aemilia's humour, but believe myself unworthy of her esteem. Wherefore I am of a contrary persuasion to yours, and I imagine Aemylia's wit displays itself, without he intending it, and that she is so far from affecting the winning, and retaining hearts, that she takes all imaginable care to acquit them, when she is forced to see they have been engaged by her charms. And indeed, Laelius, her deportment towards me, and the Postscript she has writ to you are sufficient proofs of my opinion; besides, that her great modesty ought to convince us, that apparently that admirable Lady cannot favour that kind of conduct, where secrecy and address make all the pleasure of a Lover, and that she would not be less offended at those more public gallantries which love every day, incites to make for a fair person. So that, Laelius, Aemylia being of this humour, did not without doubt think of preserving my heart and esteem when she writ to you; and this is it which infinitely troubles me, that she has written so gallantly, and had no design to do so. In brief, Madam, Scipio spoke much more to this purpose, complaining of Aemylia, and presently after infinitely extolling her: but that which seemed to me most surprising was, that he accused her of insensibility, while I sided with her and commended her procedure; and certainly defended her when I ventured to term her infensible. So true it is, that Love is never without extravigance, even in the most illustrious and intelligent hearts. But to proceed, Madam, I am by this time come to tell you, that we began to quit the chamber, and within two or three days after, we were in a condition of attempting to take horse to go to Rome. For the news we received thence, obliged us to hasten our departure from Ostia, being informed by a slave who brought us a packet that Lucius and Aemylius were arrived at Rome, that Claudia was gone from thence, and had left her charming daughter there, who in all appearance would be married to the King of Illyria within a few days. He added that there was a rumour spread abroad in Rome, that Lucius was engaged to it, and that Pyneas was shortly to arrive there for that purpose; besides that Publius and my Father writ to us, not only that we might come to Rome, but that they should be extremely glad to see us there, assoon as we could give them that satisfaction without prejudicing our healths not yet perfectly confirmed. Wherefore we did not deliberate what we had to do, but immediately took horse, being extremely satisfied that the orders we received were exactly consentaneous to the desire we had to go, and obstruct the happiness of the King of Illyria. This satisfaction indeed did not last long; for Scipio could not reflect on the unwelcome intelaligence brought us without being enraged at it, and testifying his despair to me. At length, Laelius (said he to me, as we were speeding along) see the last stroke of misfortune; we may now say, I am upon the point to experience, that which is the most cruel and fatal in love. But I will not experience it (added he suddenly with a transport, and redoubling his diligence, as if himself had been at that instant about breaking the marriage which he feared) No, no, I will not experience it (added he again) and I believe it is not a matter of too great facility to marry the adorable Aemylia, before the unfortunate Scipio be sent out of the world. These words made me observe that Lovers have more torments to fear, than pleasures to hope for; and excited also an aversion in me from engagements, which bring us every moment into a condition of mistrusting all things. Nevertheless I desired to repress my Friend's fear; and therefore having beheld him something attentively, and observed that he was deeply afflicted, I endeavoured to represent to him that his trouble was weakly grounded, and that I extremely wondered he should so soon give credit to an information brought him by a slave. 'Tis because a slave brought it (answered he sighing that my misery is indubitable: for it is not very usual for a marriage to be openly spoken of, before the treaty of it be concluded; and less, for a slave to know such matters as these before they be published, and consequently before they be concluded. But Scipio (replied I) you know people usually speak of persons of quality, according to their fancies, and so 'tis not to be wondered if marriages be spoken of, which are so far from being concluded, that they were never propounded. Wherefore (added I) your apprehension is not justifiable upon reasonable grounds, since a flying rumour renders the matter at most but dubious. Ah! Laelius (interrupted he) there are foundations for it solid enough to my unhappiness! since I ground it only upon the inclinations of Lucius, and the departure of Claudia. For I know Lucius well enough to judge easily that he would sacrifice all his family, for the good of the Commonwealth, and consequence that he has promised his adorable daughter to Pyneas, to gratify him for what he has already done, and likewise the better to retain him by that alliance, to the interests of Rome. And you will not doubt of the truth of this (added he) if you consider that Claudia is gone from Rome in this conjuncture; for wherefore should she leave Lucius upon his return, were it not that she ha●s reasons to do so, and had not the goodness to be unwilling, to be present at the conclusion of an affair which must perfectly destroy me. Since it was not difficult for Claudia to know, that Generosity alone did not incite me to act in the quarrels, I have had against Minulius and Varro; there's no question but she has understood the passion I have for her adorable daughter, and assuredly compassionates me, perhaps not without some esteem and tenderness, as she told me herself: upon which she is unwilling to be present at a treaty, which she knows will be fatal to me, that she may be able hereafter to excuse herself of it, if I should make my complaints to her, by alleging all was done during her absence, and that she knew not of the business till it was past remedy. Scipio added other reasons to these: Madam, but how strong soever his conjectures were, I never ceased to lighten and qualify them during our journey. I shall omit filling you with what joy Publius received us, when we arrived at his house, and how he was surprised to see us sooner than he expected. But I shall only intimate to you, in what manner we ourselves were surprised. Having received caresses of Publius, with the affectionate testimonies of young Scipio, and rested a while, during which we had a handsome entertainment set before us; Publius heheld us with an open and serene aspect, and told us we must go to Lucius' house concerning an important affair, and such as would without doubt be very agreeable unto us. After which we will go to yours, Laelius, (added he looking towards me) He pronounced these words with such satisfaction, that He did not take notice that they caused Scipio to blush; so that instead of requiring the cause of the alteration of his countenance, he turned about to go forth, and took his way towards Lucius' Palace. Scipio, as great and as much here as he was, was nevertheless perfectly submiss and obedient to the pleasure of Publius, and went after him, without opening his mouth to complain, and afterwards beholding me, with sighs went to Lucius' house like victim, who go of themselves to the Temples where they are to be sacrificed. I will perceive (said he to me some moments after) this important affair is the marriage of Pyneas, and Aemylia. I see, Laelius, that's the affair, which a cruel state-inclination makes persons of the humour of my father and Publius term agreeable; but, Laelius (added he, sighing again) I will not speak of Publius, nor the father of the divine Aemylia: for as I ought not to mention them but with respect, so I fear the troubles which I resent will hinder me from an exact observance of my duty. He was silent after these words, and continued to follow his father; yet with such dejectedness, that when we were arrived at the gate of Lucius' Palace, Publius easily perceived it. Upon which, beholding him with an air, in which appeared a mixture of fear and contentment, In the name of the Gods, Scipio (said he to him) dispel those tokens of sadness that appear in you countenance, and give not Lucius and Aemylia occasion to find fault with you; for to tell you the business more clearly, 'tis in reference to that fair person if we come hither, and to make an alliance which ought to fill us with joy. I knew before, my Lord (answered Scipio sighing) that your coming to Lucius' house, was in order to the treating of that marriage. But I beseech their pardon, if I cannot find the satisfaction in it, you would unquestionably have me resent. How? Scipio (interrupted Publius) are not you so highly satisfied with this marriage as I wish you were? It cannot be; you have not so soon altered the mind, and I conceive you will find satisfaction wherein I do, and where without doubt it ought to be found. Ending these words he began to ascend, partly for that he believed (as he told us after) Scipio would change his sentiment out of that entire submission which he bore towards his relations, and partly that the presence of a fair person, would soon dissipate the discontent he had perceived. But his conjectures failed him; for the perplexities of Scipio augmented proportionably as he ascended, because he was going to see an adorable person, whom he was in an apparent fear of losing. So that beholding me with eyes manifesting both his grief and his despair, Assuredly Pyneas is arrived (said he) since the friends of Lucius assemble hither to his house. But, Laelius (added he in a very violent manner) neither Lucius, nor Publius, nor the whole world shall ever cause him to possess the adorable Aemylia. Some moments after he had spoken these few words, we entered into a Hall where Lucius was walking, who no sooner beheld us but he came towards us, and having saluted Publius according to the familiarity that was between them, he embraced Scipio with an extreme tenderness. After which he commanded Aemylia to be called; but of a sudden taking notice of the deep sadness that appeared upon Scipio's countenance, he was much surprised and troubled at it, and believing it in probability an effect of his sickness, he said to him with the same sweetness, How? Scipio, will you give me more than one cause to complain of you? and that after having put me in danger of losing the alliance, by concealing from me the sentiments you have for Aemylia, I see you have endangered the loss of that little health that is left you, by adventuring yourself to travel, before you were in a condition for it, without hazard of your life. Ah! my Lord (answered Scipio) since you know the sentiments I have for the adorable daughter, can you believe it possible for me to preserve my life, while I lose the hope of obtaining the Illustrious alliance you speak of. That hope of yours would have been lost (replied Lucius) if Pyneas had declared his mind; but while I believe he expected to be at Rome, to declare his pretensions more openly unto me, it is happily arrived for our house that Claudia tells me since my return, she conceived you had some affection for Aemylia, which was confirmed to me by a Letter writ by you not long since, which by chance fell into my hands. Upon which being extremely joyful, I went to Publius' house, and without sticking at the punctilios which Parents of Virgin's endeavour to observe, I presently told him of the passion you had, and then offered him Aemylia: Publius really testified a joy as great as mine; so that after some discourse concerning the happiness of allying our two houses together, I returned home and commanded Aemylia to treat you as the person designed to be her husband, that is, as one whom she ought to love and honour, and on whom she ought to depend. Thus you see, Scipio, there wants nothing but your consent to the conclusion of a business, which as I apprehend, you ardently desire the accomplishment. Whilst Lucius was speaking thus, Scipio beheld him with an astonishment transcending my expression. Then he looked upon his father in the same manner; after which his eyes seemed to ask me, whether I beheld the same that he did; in a word, Madam, Scipio for some moments appeared like a man, who thinks he sees what he passionately desires, and nevertheless believes not that he sees it really. But he was not long before he was convinced of the reality of his happiness. For reflecting upon the manner of Lucius' speaking, and perceiving also that Publius approved of it by his silence, he moreover observed an air of joy in my countenance that seemed to confirm the matter: so that seeing himself on a sudden raised from extreme unhappiness to supreme felicity, Is it possible, my Lord, (said he to Lucius) that your goodness advances me to the greatest glory that can be aspired unto? Is it possible (continued he, casting himself at his feet) that I am upon the point to marry the divine Aemylia, and to possess the fairest, and most adorable person that ever lived? As he pronounced these words, and some other abrupt expressions, which his ravishment suggested to him, and as Lucius was offering to lift him up, the fair Aemylia entered into the Hall where we were, and with her a glorious splendour, and a thousand charms and graces. Yes, Madam, such was the entrance of that admirable person, who no sooner saw the most amiable, and illustrious of her Lovers at her father's feet, and moreover an amiable and illustrious Lover, who she knew was upon the point of being happy, but she presently blushed, and made us judge that in such occasions a like effect of modesty, is the most agreeable thing in the world. But when she approached near us by Lucius' command, Scipio appeared so transported, that we easily perceived the presence of this fair Virgin caused too excessive joy in him, and that he received new wounds from the sight of so numerous charms, which by being pleasing did nevertheless not cease to be troublesome. For there was so great a dilatation of his spirits, that his heart being the most sick part about him, becoming the weakest by that expansion, this Illustrious Lover had almost fallen down at Aemylia's feet; and indeed he began to tremble, and an excess of joy appeared painted on his countenance, and his eyes were half closed. Which I observing, and knowing what a sudden joy might effect, presently stepped to him, and Lucius taking notice of it commanded Aemylia to retire; upon which, Madam, Scipio being still capable to discern objects, perceived the admirable person he loved was gone, which instantly made him resent a kind of regret, that served to moderate his joy, and contributed not a like to his speedy recovery from his fainting. And when he came to be something composed, he returned thanks to Lucius in terms that expressed much better his contentment, than his gratitude, whilst the admirable Aemylia retired into her chamber, after having seen that joy did no less testify Scipio's affection, than grief had done some days before, and both passions get even proofs of it as certain as dangerous.  
There was also another thing that helped to allay the excessive joy of our Illustrious Lover, which was, that Lucius and Publius told him, that for the good of Rome, they had resolved not only to defer his marriage, but to keep the matter secret. For I believe (said Lucius) if you should marry Aemilia to day, we should lose the forces of Pynaeas to morrow▪ but you ought not to be troubled at the deferring of a thing you are certain of, which is done only to retain a considerable assistance to the State. Scipio was suprised at these words; but love, joy and hope, suddenly transporting him, he was upon the point (as he told me afterwards) to declare to Lucius, that himself would perform actions that should repair the loss of the Illyrians. Nevertheless, for that virtue always guided that Illustrious Roman, and regulated as well his words as action, he suppressed his sentiments, and only requested Lucius to permit that the marriage might be accomplished privately.  
Do you think me capable, Scipio (interrupted the father of Emilia) to transact in the manner you speak of, an action of lustre and rejoicing; and in which privacy always seems to hide some considerable defect? No, no, Scipio, do not except it; I will never act in that manner; and I would not give Pyneas so just an occasion to complain of me, when the business should come to be discovered. For the King of Illyria might say I had abused him by such a secret carriage of it; but he cannot accuse me of any thing whatsoever, when after he has served us, I cause him to be rewarded by the people of Rome, and afterwards prepare his mind to suffer your marriage with moderation, by telling him, (as 'tis time) that Claudia propounded it to me before himself declared to me openly that he pretended to my alliance.  
Thus you see, Scipio, by this course I act as I ought; and is it not enough for you that I promise you Aemilia, since a word passed by a person of my humour, is sacred and inviolable. You see also that I intent to take my time to temper the mind of a Lover before whom I prefer his Rival, and that I act for the advantage of the Commonwealth, by not depriving it of a powerful aid; for indeed, though Pyneas has rendered Illyria tributary to Rome, yet he is not obliged to supply us with forces, and we have no right to exact any thing of him beyond the Tribute which is imposed upon his Kingdom. But, My Lord (replied Scipio) can you consider the violence of my passion without— But, Scipio (interrupted Lucius) can you consider what I have said without yielding to it? and would you direct persons who have very much reason for what they design, because you have very much love for what you aspire to? These words pronounced with an aspect Majestical, though not severe, and that by the person who alone had right to dispose of Aemilia, made Scipio reflect seriously on the matter; so that revolving in his mind for a few minutes, the happy change of his affairs, and afterwards considering the generous and obliging manner of Lucius' proceeding, he presumed no longer to answer him, but only made him a profound reverence, as if to signify that he submitted to his Orders. In the mean time before we went away from Lucius' house, Publius' went alone to Aemilia's Chamber, where, (as we knew afterwards (he gave her a thousand testimonies of esteem and dearness, which that prudent Lady received with all the civility and submission, which she thought herself obliged to render to a person of high quality, grave years, and extraordinary wit. After whose return to us in the Hall, we departed, and went to my Father's house, who was extremely glad to see us, especially perceiving we seemed very joyful; but that which surprised us was, that when he had embraced us, and expressed his tenderness to us, Publius told him that he 〈◊〉 c●me from Lucius' house, and that without losing time we were going to that of Regulus. These words augmented my father's joy, who having once again embraced Scipio, accompanied Publius to go accordingly to Regulus' house, and Scipio and I followed them. But as Publius and my father were speaking together, and I was entertaining myself with my Illustrious friend, either concerning Emilia's beauty, or in conjecturing the occasion of our going to Regulus' house, my father turned about towards me, and to●d me he would not have me so surprised as Scipio had been; and therefore you must now, Laelius (added he) that you are going to see Attilia, and moreover to engage yourself to her, and in all appearance within a few days you shall marry that amiable person. Verily, Madam, you will be surprised at the effect of these words; for I had no sooner heard them, but Attilia instantly presented herself to my mind with her amiable, sprightly, and gallant aspect; and I remember I thought upon the charms of that fair Virgin with a certain motion of dearness, such as I had never resented before. But assoon as I came to Regulus' house, and had cast my eyes upon his amiable sister, that dearness made itself more sensible in my heart, and contrary to the practice of those who cease to love when they marry their Mistresses, I assure you I began to love Attilia passionately from the time it was told me I should marry her. And indeed that fair person had charms sufficiently powerful to affect the most insensible hearts. But it not being her History that I am relating, you will please to excuse me, Madam, from repeating the particularities of the conversation we made; it suffices that you know it was extremely handsome and agreeable that Attilia spoke, but little in it, but very judiciously, and with much modesty, and that after we had set a day for the meeting of our friends, we departed extremely satisfied with the civility of Regulus, and all the fair qualities of his amiable sister. My Father detained Scipio that right at his house, notwithstanding Publius' reluctance to part with him; and after having taken care of our wounds by the resistance of the Surgeons we brought with us from Ostia, he left us in the Chamber of Scipio, where that Illustrious Lover and I had the sweetest conversation that ever we had made, speaking of nothing but the pleasing adventures that had befallen us, and frequently reflecting upon the circumstances which seemed to augment our felicity.  
The End of the Second Book.    

The Grand SCIPIO.  
PART II.  
BOOK III.  
THe report of our arrival being soon dispersed about the City, the next morning we received very many visits from our relations and friends at my father's house, of which the most acceptable was indeed that of Regulus and Emilius, who came thither together. The conversation we had with them was perfectly delightful, and the expressions of our mutual esteem so agreeable, and our discourse so complacential and obliging, that we received not without displeasure other visits that interrupted so sweet an entertainment. For our relations having resolved to keep secret the treaties that were between them, it behoved us not only to charge our discourse before the company that came to us, but also to use the same deportments amongst ourselves (which likewise we have ever since observed) that were want to do before the mentioning of our alliances. But, Madam, Aemilius and Regulus had no sooner left us, but amongst other persons that visited us this morning, we were surprised to see some of the relations of Minutius and Varro come to us, and to be ascertained of what we had understood only uncertainly, that the report had been no more than of a sickness we had suffered, that our quarrels were not published, that Varro, Minutius, and Metellus, were in the Country, and that no body much enquired what reason made them continue so long out of Rome. We were afterwards informed by Appius, who visited us also that morning that Scipio's Letter had not been delivered to him, but that Minutius had undoubtedly corrupted the slave to whom the delivery of it had been recommended; for Appius assured us he did not find him at home when he returned out of the Country, whither Varro had engaged him to go in reference to an affair which he told him was of great importance. But, Madam, if the sight of our Parents and our friends gave us contentment, we received one more considerable in the afternoon at Lucius' house. For after Scipio had been at his fathers, whom he desired to wait upon, he drew me to go with him to Aemilia, telling me that since his love preceded mine, it was more just to go to Lucius' house before going to see Attilia. But, Scipio (answered I with very much trouble) I am obliged to go to that of Regulus, and you may, if you please go alone to Aemilia. True, Laelius (replied he) but if you come not with me, there will want something to the pleasure which I am to receive there. But, verily, Scipio (answered I with an increase of discontent) you are unjust to prefer your pleasure above my duty. If we could not both go together as well to the house of Lucius, as that of Regulus (replied he) I would be ready to do whatever you pleased. But, Laelius (added he smiling) do not trouble yourself, I will not cause you to fail in that exactness for which you reproached me, the first went to Servilius' house to see Emilia there.  
He had scarce ended these words, but we beheld a slave belonging to Regulus pass by, of whom I demanded if his Master were at home; but when he answered me he was gone abroad, and I was going to aches him the same question concerning Attilia; I was suddenly seized with a kind of fear which caused me to change countenance, and I felt a certain disturbance in myself, that withheld me from speaking, which Scipio did not fail to take notice of, and smile at. After which having asked the slave what I was unable to do, we were told the amiable sister of Regulus was with the Illustrious Emilia; wherefore without losing time in a further contest, we went immediately where we were to see the two fair persons whom we loved. I shall not tell you, Madam, that if I seemed timorous in speaking of Attilia, I was much more so when at Lucius' house, I was approaching near to that fair person; I shall also forbear to mention to you what satisfaction I resented while I was entertaining that lovely Virgin, who treated me with all the sweetness that she thought herself obliged to express to a Lover, whom she was shortly to marry, and that without repugnance; for that I am only to speak concerning the Illustrious Scipio, and the divine person which he adores. You may please therefore to know, Madam, that as we entered into Emilia's Chamber, after notice given her, and her permission obtained, we found only Attilia with her, and two or three other Virgins who were employed about works in Silk, at the end of the Chamber opposite to the Bed, which presently caused us to imagine, that they had no intention of seeing much company that day, and conceiving at the same time that we were privileged, and that we should alone have all the liberty we could wish to entertain them; which thought gave us extreme satisfaction. Assoon as we had made our reverence with a profound respect to those two admirable persons, they saluted us very civilly, though without offering to look upon us; and we had scarce endeavoured to meet their eyes, to observe in them what we were to hope or fear, but we beheld a pure vermilion ascend into their countenance, in which, to our happiness, neither anger nor aversion seemed to have any influences. Yet this made us not more confident; but we advanced towards them with a very profound submission, and desired their pardon for that we were come to see them in a time which perhaps they had resolved to pass in private. 'Tis true (answered Aemilia with infinite modesty and sweetness) we had no purpose to see much company to day; but for that I have all the submission to the pleasure of Lucius that I ought, and Attilia but now told me she had the like for that of her Brother, whom she is willing to comply with; we have not presumed to refuse your visit after the commands laid upon us.  
Aemilia in pronouncing these last words, felt that lovely redness to increase, which blended itself so agreeably with the purity of the complexion, that it was perfectly discernible upon her countenance; and Scipio could not hear them without resenting an extraordinary trouble; so that beholding that fair person with eyes that showed both a violent love, and a very sensible displeasure: Ah! Madam (said he to her sighing) you are extremely cruel, in returning me presently into a condition of not doubting of my misery, and intimating to me in the beginning of our conversation, that I am obliging for the honour I receive, rather to the command of Lucius, then to your own goodness. But that is not all, Madam, (continued he with the same air) for I find something so rigorous in your saying, You dared not refuse my visit, that I can imagine nothing in the world more cruel. In sincerity (replied that prudent Lady) I confess to you, I would not have received it in the manner I do, if I did not know in what degree Lucius requires me to respect you. Ah! Madam, (answered he sighing) if it be true that you are sincere in speaking as you do, it is too true that I am miserable. But, Madam (proceeded he some moments after, he had beheld her with a very passionate air) sweeten the matter at least, and in stead of telling me you would not have dared to refuse my visit after the command of Lucius, I conjure you to say, you would not have dared to receive it without that command. Verily, Scipio (replied she with a modest smile) you make me wonder at the difference you put between those two expressions. But without puzzling myself in being so severe as you are to examine them, I shall not much scruple to consent to what you desire, and to permit you to take what I said according as seems most agreeable to you. I know, Madam (replied this passionate Lover) you will not find the same difference in it that I do; for 'tis of a nature not presently to be discerned, and there is nothing but love that can find it out. So that, Madam, I do not wonder you confound those two expressions; for however lively your wit be, it is impossible it should apprehend such a distinction, 'tis your heart that must do it: But, alas! it is requisite that that Illustrious heart be first affected, and give me to observe upon your countenance that you well understand all the force of the terms you use, and employ them not but upon choice. Then would it be, Madam (proceeded he with a mixture of several passions appearing in his eyes) that I should be as happy as I am now unfortunate; for since I know all the tenderness of love, and that all that proceeds from you, Madam, makes an impression in my heart, I never fail to resent to the full whatsoever it behoves me to be sensible of.  
Scipio continued this discourse still with a passionate air, whilst I was speaking to the fair Attilia; but the Illustrious Aemilia always answered him with so much prudence and modesty, that at the same time he esteemed her much more, and also complained of her for it; so that, Madam, I cannot determine whither the amorous Scipio resented this day at Lucius' house more grief or joy, or whether he went from it more satisfied or discontented; for Aemilia treated him with very much complacency in every thing that concerned not his passion, and which was most of all obliging to him, she acknowledged with great freedom and sweetness, that she would obey the command of Lucius with less repugnance than she should have had for any other. But on the other side, that which afflicted this Illustrious lover, was that she continually acted and spoke with such reservation, that he could never observe that she resented any thing for him beyond esteem, or that he had gained upon her heart. The next day, indeed, he was much more happy, as you shall now understand; for, Pyneas, who arrived that morning, went to pass the afternoon with Attilia, because he was informed Aemilia was gone to her house with her brother. Fabius, whose love was discovered, was there also with Cato: and there was likewise two very lovely persons that lived not far from that place, who were conducted thither by Flaminius and Marcellus, whose presence occasioned the conversation to be more general, and consequently more agreeable to all those that had no particular interest. So that, Madam, Scipio had no great reason to be satisfied with this kind of general and tumultuous entertainment, where usually there are some whose humour leads them to the affairs of State, or an Army, whilst others desire only to speak of Balls, Comedies and Fashions, where the discourse is of a hundred different subjects; and lastly, where every one produces what his interest or genius severally incites him to. Nevertheless Scipio had very great reason to think himself happy; for Aemilia received the King of Illyria and Fabius, with all the coldness she could show without seeming uncivil; and whilst she treated them with a kind of severity, of which persons that are intelligent in such matters easily take notice, she approved with great complacency whatever was spoken by Scipio, and comported herself with a more obliging air towards him then towards the rest, which caused all the company who were ignorant of the secret transaction, to believe Scipio Aemilia's friend, as it was known I was, and none ever suspected him to be her Lover. For it was always believed, Madam, as without question you have reported, that Scipio was not capable of being amorous of any thing but glory; besides, that no person could have imagined, knowing Emilia's humour, and having never heard of the command Lucius had laid upon her, that that severe Virgin would have treated Scipio so obligingly as she did, if she had known he was inflamed with love for her. But, Madam, this Illustrious Lover had soon after a more sensible satisfaction; for a Lady of high quality, named Martia, Aunt to Attilia (who dwelled at Regulus' house, because having no children of her own, she desired to take care of her nieces education after her Mother's death) entered into the Chamber where we were, and after the performance of civilities usual in such occasions, told us the day was sufficiently fair to invite us down into the Garden; whither she accordingly caused us to descend both to take the air there, and for the pleasure of the walk. But for that Pyneas was a stranger, and had newly come from his journey, Martia treated him with more exact civility, which occasioned him at our going forth of Attilia's Chamber, to give the hand to her Aunt, whereby Scipio had the opportunity to lead Emilia: For, indeed, though Fabius was a very comely person, and infinitely ingenious, yet he was of a temper near to that of Cato; he appeared so cold, so sage, and so slow in his carriage, that he was no very dangerous person to obstruct the happiness of a Rival; nor was he very like those dextrous Lovers▪ who by a way they have learned in the world, are always ingraciating with their Mistresses, by rendering them a hundred little Offices, leading them, and whispering in their ear, and all this without being liable to be taxed in what they do, of intrusion or ostentation; besides that in brief, the coldness Emilia shown him this day, was not I conceive very effectual to dispel that of his temper. By this means, Scipio, as I told you, had the happiness to give the hand to Emilia; and being those two Illustrious persons are chiefly concerned in my relation, you must know, Madam, that when we were in Regulus' Garden, which is extreme spacious, and the walks exceeding handsome, Scipio beheld the fair person he led with infinite love and respect. After which, alas! I beseech you, Madam (said he to her suddenly) be pleased to tell me whether I am more in favour with you then Varro, Pyneas, and Fabius; or, to explain myself better, Tell me, I conjure you, whether I should have been treated this day as the two latter were, if Lucius had not been favourable to me. Being he has been so (answered she) I am obliged to have such sentiments for you as I ought not to have any other. But, Madam (replied he) is it to that obligation you speak of, that I owe my happiness, and will you not be pleased to let me know, whether it would have been lawful for me, to hope you would have done that out of goodness, which you have done out of obedience? Since that which you call happiness is ascertained to you (answered she) why do you seek to bring it in doubt by speaking as you do? Ah! Madam (interrupted he) I have no longer any happiness, if to speak as I do, be to bring it to doubt; For indeed, I apprehend that in such occasions as this we are speaking of, it is impossible for a man to be effectually happy, if he owes his felicity only to the command of a Father. Speak therefore, Madam, speak (continued he sighing) but not to kill me with grief: say, I beseech you, that Scipio owes not all to Lucius, but that the adorable Aemilia would have preferred him above all his Rivals, if she had had the liberty of choice. Sincerely (answered she with very much goodness) I will acknowledge to you, that I should not account myself just, if I could admit Varro into my mind in concurrence with the Illustrious Scipio, and you would have cause to believe me very little grateful, if after all you have done. I were capable to prefer either Fabius, or the King of Illyria before Scipio, to whom I have without doubt such obligations, as I have not to those you call your Rivals.  
The Illustrious Aemylia pronounced these words with so much sweetness, and such an amiable freedom, that Scipio could not but be highly pleased with them, which yet he was not absolutely; for after a few moments he reflected that Aemylia seemed rather to act out of generosity than inclination, and that she would have had the same sentiments for any of her Rivals, if he had done the same services for her that himself had performed. So that not knowing well whether he ought to make remerciments for them, or complaints he spoke after a manner so incoherent, his sighs so often interrupted his discourse, and there appeared in his eyes so much love, fear, and respect together, that if Aemilia were not absolutely moved with it, it was only for that she accustomed herself to hear with insensibility, all the most passionate expressions of her Illustrious Lover. But this prudent Lady having very much severity in her soul, she spoke nothing that could persuade Scipio he had touched her heart: 'Tis true indeed, the fair eyes of that admirable person, were little more favourable than her mouth, and seemed to tell Scipio in a language, which appeared still timorous (as I may so speak) that an Illustrious Lover, who has all the advantages of nature, and fortune joined with excellent acquired accomplishments might hope to become happy. Thus Scipio parted at this time from her upon good terms, and afterwards had several conversations with that Illustrious person, during which she discovered to him all the esteem she had for him; she told him with very much freedom part of her sentiments, and intimated to him upon divers occasions, part of the dearness she already resented for him. Scipio also understood that Lucius and Aemilius always infinitely esteemed him, and that Claudia had ever so great a dearness for him, that she was oftentimes upon the point to tell his mother a little before she died that she designed Aemilia for the uniting of their families. He likewise learned that Claudia, before her departure from Rome had commanded her adorable daughter, to have sentiments of esteem and acknowledgement for Scipio; and that she afterwards left Rome for no other reason, but only that she might not be obliged to discover to Lucius all that she knew of the proceedings of Varro: And in brief, this passionate Lover had so many reasons to belief himself happy in those delightful entertainments, that I may conclude he was so in reality. But Madam, whilst love and joy are the passions that rule in the illustrious heart of Scipio, and this famous Roman is enjoying all the purity of delight and contentment they afford, Intelligence is brought from the Camp of Sempronius, that Hannibal had advanced towards Trebia, that the Numidians had already made excursions as far as the banks of that river, that they foraged, plundered, and wasted all the Country, and made desolation in all places, whence the Roman Army might draw subsistence. The Carrier that brought these tidings certified also, that Sempronius was upon the point to draw his army out of their entrenchments, and to march directly against the Enemies, without expecting till Publius, his Colleque, were in a condition to join with him and fight them. Upon which all the Officers and Valunteers that were then in Rome, took order the same day for their affairs that they might depart the next, which many accordingly did; for the most part of them expecting suddenly to receive some such tidings, had all things in readiness that could not be provided in an instant, to the end they might have nothing to do, that might afterwards occasion their delay at Rome. I shall not tell you that Publius as unfit as he was still for an expedition, would notwithstanding depart, and resolved also to carry the young Scipio with him. I shall also omit to tell you what regret I had to forsake Attilia, or what I said to that fair person, when I was upon the point to take my leave of her, and how obligingly she answered me. Nor do I think it necessary to let you know that Flavius at this time was entertained into the attendance of my Illustrious friend, who had sent to him at Ostia a reward of inestimable value. Only I shall tell you, Madam, that it was requisite for Scipio to depart too, notwithstanding the indisposedness he was in by reason of his wounds, and the extreme reluctancy he had to leave Aemilia. But what did he not say, or what did he not do before his going? he went to the house of Lucius, he saw Aemylia, and being in the presence of the admirable person, and considering that he was now at the instant to leave her, he beheld her a long time without being able to open his mouth to express his regret. After which, perceiving she was a little mollified, Alas! Madam (said he to her sorrowfully) must I be separated from you! must I part from the place where you are! must I go where you are not! Ah! no, no, Madam, I will never do it: glory has no longer any charms to move me, if I must go so far from you to seek it, and its lustre seems to me too obscure and too fatal, if it must withdraw me from that of your eyes. As he was proceeding, his sighs interrupted him; and though he had a thousand passionate and tender thoughts to express, yet he was not able to speak, either because he had too many things to say at once, or for that his soul was suddenly too much engrossed by Grief and Love. 'Tis true, these very passions spoke themselves by hindering him from speaking, and expressed his sentiments in so affecting a strain, that at length the fair eyes of Aemilia laid open all the tenderness, which that fair and discreet person, had cautiously concealed to that hour, so that these two Illustrious persons beheld one another for some time without speaking; after which Aemilia with a melancholy that had something in it infinitely sweet and amiable, told him there was an absolute necessity for his departure; for you are obliged to it (continued she) both because you are a Roman, and especially because you are Scipio. Go therefore (added she) go whither glory calls you; and if it be true that you have a reluctancy to part from one, begin to overcome yourself, that you may be able afterwards more easily to overcome our enemies, and make us hope that he that can gain a victory over Scipio, may well pretend to gain one over Hannibal. Ah! Madam (answered he) how difficult is it to gain the victory you speak of, and how contrary is this to those of Conquerors, since the heart itself, is unwilling to enter the combat, in order to gaining it? It behoves you then (replied she) to serve yourself of contrary means, and I conceive flight will soon bring you to the attainment of the victory we speak of; fly therefore, I conjure you, Scipio: fly the presence of a person who has been the cause that you have been capable of weakness: And to show you (added we with an extreme goodness) that 'tis only for your glory, and not through aversion that I entreat you to depart, I promise you that I will pray the Gods for your preservation, that I shall be glad that you preserve for me the sentiments which you already have, and that I shall have such for you (added she casting down her eyes and blushing a little) as shall be full of a real esteem and kindness, which the command of Lucius and your own merit sufficiently authorize. Ending these words she offered to go into her closet; but Scipio stayed her by her robe, and casting himself at her feet, because there was only one waiting woman in the chamber, from whom Aemilia concealed nothing, How? Madam (said he with extreme grief) have you the cruelty to leave me, after having enjoined me by a too rigorous prudence to depart from you? will you so cruelly deprive me of the satisfaction which I receive; and in brief, Madam, will you have me fly from a person for whom I live; from a person, without whom I cannot continue one moment, and who alone in the world is able to render me happy? Ah? Madam, this is not possible. Yet it must be so, Scipio (interrupted she) and absolute necessity requires it. Aemilia pronounced these words with so much majesty, and such an imperious air, that the amorous Scipio durst not answer; yet he retained her still, and having beheld her a while, after a manner extremely respectful and passionate; Well Madam, (said he sighing) I will go since you command me; but I beseech you (added he with the same air) grant me that which I am going to request of you, since in the condition wherein matters are, I may desire it without injury to the respect I owe you. After that which is passed (answered she with her first sweetness) I may without doubt do many things for you; Be pleased then, Madam (said he) to suffer an excellent Painter of Sicyonia, who is arrived in this City two or three days since, to draw your portrait, to the end I may carry it to the places where I must not see you, and comfort myself with the sight of it, for the miseries I am there to suffer. In truth, Scipio (answered she) I am extremely sorry, that I am obliged to refuse you what you desire. How? Madam (interrupted he) will you refuse me the favour which I request? Scipio, I must do so (answered she) and Lucius is the sole person in the world that can induce me to admit what you speak of. Well, Madam (replied he) since Lucius can effect it, I do not despair of obtaining what I desire; and I conceive (added he) that after all that he has done for me, he has not the same severe cautiousness that you have. There is no time left to intercede with Lucius to that purpose (interrupted she) and you would absolutely disoblige me, if you should do it. For I put no difference between giving my picture, and teaching the means to obtain it, nor have I less scruple for the first than the latter. But, Madam, (said he infinitely dejected) what shall I then carry with me, to sweeten the cruelties of my absence? The love of glory (answered she) and not of certain things which may in some manner render you capable of weakness, as I have observed at this present. The things you speak of, Madam (replied he) are of value beyond all the laurels that glory can Crown me with: so that, Madam, if you— As he was proceeding to speak, Aemilius, Regulus and I entered into the chamber; and being we perceived Scipio was dejected and sad, Aemilius told his sister, she was obliged by very many respects to a dearness for Scipio, and especially in this conjuncture. But brother (answered she with very much sweetness) what would you have me do, when he desires things of me which I cannot grant him. Choose, Madam, (answered Scipio) choose what you please to give me. I should be much troubled (replied she) if it were requisite for me to do what you say; for what ever I gave, if I should consider Aemilia were the person that gave it, I should think she gave too much; and on the other side, if I considered (added she with great goodness) that Scipio were the person that received it, perhaps I should imagine she gave too little: She had scarce pronounced these words, which manifested an extreme delicate modesty, as well as much dearness for Scipio, but Aemilius answered her, that the choice proposed to her, was not very difficult to be made; for sister, (added he) you need only give Scipio the Scarf which you promised me; Being I promised it to you (replied she) it is now yours, and it consequently belongs to you to give it. I am not forward to believe (answered Aemilius smiling) that Scipio desires to receive it from my hands; therefore sister, if you please, let it be from yours; and to give you conveniency to present it to him, in a manner that may more endear it, (added he with the same air) I shall withdraw with Laelius, Regulus. And accordingly he went out after these words, though he perceived Emilia was unwilling he should, and seemed extremely perplexed. Scipio still pressing that fair person, with extreme respect, and a thousand tokens of a violent passion, at last obtained the Scarf Emilius spoke of, which was carnation ambrodered with silver, wherein were seen the Characters of the admirable Virgin that gave it; but she delivered it to him with an aspect, that manifested a contest of modesty and kindness in her heart. After which she commanded Scipio to depart, and bade him adieu, having first tendered her hand to him, which he kissed very respectfully; and as she retired, she turned face away to hide it from Scipio, the tears which undoubtedly fell from her fair eyes, and so entering into her Closet presently made fast the door. Scipio crossed his arms and sighed, in beholding this department of Aemilia, and the grief he resented would certainly have hindered him from going forth of the chamber, of that fair person; if he had not endeavoured to moderate it by casting his eyes upon the Scarf which he had received, and recalled into his mind the obliging expressions, and shows of tenderness, he had observed in that adorable person, at her separating from him. Indeed these very thoughts afflicted him oftentimes; for he could not conceive it possible for him, without dying with sorrow to depart from a divine person, who had very much goodness for him, and began to give him some tokens of a kindness, which certainly was able to charm the hearts of the most insensible. Nevertheless when he came also to consider, that it behoved him to be wholly covered with glory, that he might merit the esteem of Aemilia, and likewise remembered what he had done before he was a Lover, and so proceeding to think of the great exploits he was obliged to perform, in order to rendering himself in some manner worthy of the most fair and illustrious person of the world, his courage was excited to as high a pitch as his love. Upon which he left the chamber of Emilia with a generous resolution, and it may be said that the consideration of this fair person now drive him thence, as it had before attracted and retained him there. Yet before his going he made many civilities to Silia, which was she of Emilia's attendants, that was most favoured with her friendship, and privacy of her fair mistress. After which as he was going away and passed into the hall, he beheld Lucius to enter, whom had been called by some of his servants, because he had given them order, notice should be brought him when Scipio came to his house. My Illustrious friend presently made a reverence to the Father of Emilia, and afterwards made him a compliment, in which he expressed both his grandeur and generosity, together with that profound respect which accompanied all his words and actions. Upon which Lucius embraced him and answered him with a thousand testimonies of esteem and dearness; and then commanded him, as a father, to take care and to preserve himself in all occasions, where the service of Rome was not concerned. But, Madam, not to detain you with any more circumstances of Scipio's actions before his departure, you may please to know that the next morning we went out of Rome, very early in a very brave company; For Publius was so generally esteemed that the greatest part of the Officers that were yet at Rome, would go along with him, as likewise all the volunteers did. Fabius and Cato were also of our troop with Servilius, Flamminius, Marcellus, Lentulus, and many others of that rank; but amongst all that number of gallant persons, there was a most intimate friendship contracted between, Scipio, Emilius, Regulus and me, which society was so infinitely delectable, that we enjoyed a thousand contentments during our journey. Not but that Scipio was extremely inclined to pensiveness and melancholy, if we had not soon observed and endeavoured to divert it, whereby he moderated his anxiety; and became by degrees capable of entertaining a certain air of joy together with us. For being infinitely amorous, he had nevertheless an unquestionable assurance of possessing the fair person which he loved. And that which rendered our pleasure greater, was, that Aemylius had as great hope of possessing Papyria, whom he was passsionately enamoured of, as I had to marry Attilia. So that we were all happy Lovers excepting Regulus, who instead of being a Lover, had his heart possessed with hatred, yet he enjoyed no less satisfaction, since he was going to fight against a Nation whom he hated in perfection. But, Madam, when we arrived at the Army, we found ourselves in danger of losing our former contentment, and even ready to fight one against another upon occasion of a contest that happened at a Council of War, which was held assoon as Publius was arrived. For, you must know, Madam, Sempronius, who was a person of high courage, but wanted something of the moderation requisite to a great Captain, was absoutely desirous to give battle, fearing lest the new Consuls that were shortly to be created, should come and prevent him of that glory; besides, that he was puffed up with the good success that a party of two thousand Roman Horse, had had another of three thousand Numidians, who were beaten and despoiled of a prodigious booty that they were carrying to the Camp of Hannibal.  
Publius on the other side, who was one of those Great men that are satisfied in themselves, both of their own courage, and the goodness of their intentions, and who besides that advantage, enjoy a solid glory acquired by a thousand brave actions, would consider nothing in this occasion but the advantage of Rome; so that he protested he could not consent to the resolution of his Colleague, and maintained it was absolutely important to decline fight for a time. Then we must decline it for ever (interrupted Sempronius roughly) for since the two Consuls are joined together, I think it ought not be declared till a third be created by a Law and sent to our assistance. Say therefore (added he with the same air) that you will wait till you are perfectly cured, which yet I account not very material; for we ought never to consider our particular interest, when the Glory of Rome is in question. For the same reason (answered Publius) you ought not to consider yours, as I see you only do; But, Sempronius (proceeded he fiercely) we shall see in the fight, whether the inconvenience I still am under by reason of my wounds, will retard me from performing the actions of a Scipio, and whether afterwards you and I may not have a discourse concerning the law of a third Consul you tell me of. In the mean time (added he) endeavouring to moderate himself) in expectation of the end of the battle, I would at present, as Consul of Rome, draw you from your error, and convince you that it is by no means expedient to fight Hannibal. For we have intelligence (continued he) that Mago Bardo is come from Sicily to join with him, and that a considerable number of Gauls are added to his Army; so that we ought to expect till that numerous Army disperse itself, which in all appearance will shortly come to pass. For, Italy being still almost entirely ours, Hannibal will be necessitated continually, in order to getting Ammunitions of War and Provision, to send out parties which our Allies will encounter with; besides that the Gauls, who make a great part of our enemy's forces, will certainly in a short time retire into their own Country; for there is a great measure of impatience peculiar to that Nation, as well as a daring and generous ardour whereby they will become weary of bearing Arms and not using them; and it being very easy for them to retreat, in all probability they will not be slow to do it.  
If these words of Publius did not absolutely convince his Colleague, yet they persuaded the greatest part of the Convention, and even hindered Sempronius himself, who considered the weight of them, for returning a sharp answer, which would without question have desperately embroiled us. But the unhappiness was, that though Publius had more partakers, as well as greater reason than his Colleague, yet there were fewer that declared for his opinion; because in that of Sempronius there was a certain splendour of generosity, which is more powerfully attractive then solid wisdom, that is not always judged aright of in Armies, and which we scarce ever dare follow. Wherefore all that Publius could do, was not to issue forth of his Intrenchments during the time he commanded: but assoon as it came to Sempronius to give orders, he could not longer continue in his Camp; besides that there was an occasion offered, which strangely seconded his intention. For Maharbal and Mago came in the head of four thousand Horse, to the Gate of the line of our Trenches. Upon which Sempronius presently summoned four thousand Romans to horse, the command of which he gave to Scipio and Regulus. In which preferring of Scipio before all other Romans, he did justice to his birth and valour, and proceeded generously by making it appear, that if he had contested against Publius, it was out of no inducement of hatred or envy; nor was it without reason that he preferred Regulus before many others, for besides that he was a person of infinite courage, he had already more experience in Arms, than the greatest part of his equals in age and quality, and moreover he was used to sue for these kind of emploments with as much earnestly as the most ambitious Roman could do for the office of Consul or Dictator. Aemylius, Marcellus, Flaminius', and I ranged ourselves with our friends, and resolved to fight under them, as likewise all the volunteers soon after did, and amongst the rest the young Scipio.  
Thus we marched out of our Trenches with such alacrity and promising fierceness, that our party drew the eyes and hearts of our Generals, and excited admiration in all the Army. Though Scipio were yet indisposed by reason of his wounds, yet I may say he felt then no inconvenience from them; for besides that motion and activeness usually suspends those sorts of pain, the Idea of Aemilia, and the presence of glory (as I may so speak) had a greater effect than his agitation. I shall forbear to describe to you, Madam, the prodigious valour we admired this day in Aemilius, and omit also to tell you in what manner Regulus signalised himself, and what my good fortune enabled me to perform; but being to speak only in relation to Scipio, I must inform you, Madam, that that Illustrious Roman no sooner perceived that the four thousand Horse under the conduct of Maharbal and Mago, made a stand to expect us, but he fell in upon them with an unparallelled impetuosity: he would use only his sword, because other weapons could not so well have been managed by his ardour; but he employed that so courageously, that he performed miraculous action with it; he dangerously wounded Maharbal, killed three or four Officers, and at length made our enemies give gronud after a resistance of an honr and half. He drove them back as far as the main body of their Army, which was ready drawn up in battalia, without their Trenches, to come to their relief: and when we observed Sempronius had done the same for us, that Hannibal had done for Maharbal, we charged the right wing of our enemies which was commanded by Braveus, King of the Allobroges, because it consisted of Auxiliary forces, and as it happened, Pyneus commanded our left wing, and consequently backed his Rival, though he was ignorant of it. But that passionate King knowing that Aemilius was fight in the same place, presently came to the head of his squadron, and without delay joined with us. At which time he performed a thousand brave actions; so that it would not have been difficult for us to have beaten those we were engaged with by this re-enforcement, if on a sudden we had not been called off to run to the succour of Sempronius and Publius. But there happened two or three strange accidents in a moment, which soon lost us the advantage we had gained at first; for Mago Barsa, with six thousand horse, issued forth of an ambush where Hannibal had placed them, in moorish places covered with Willows and Poplars, and charge our rear which Publius commanded, so unexpectedly, that that Illustrious Roman was soon abandoned by his own forces; upon which he endeavoured to fall into the battle where Sempronius was; but whilst these two Generals were fight with extraordinary valour, it began of a sudden to snow, and a strong Wind arose which blew the snow in the face and eyes of our Soldiers, so that all these disadvantages, together with the prodigious valour of Hannibal, frustrated the courageous attempts of Sempronius and Publius, and caused our Army to retire with a loss sufficiently considerable. 'Tis true, this Victory cost our Enemies dear; for if Hannibal lost abundance of men in his main battle, his left wing was not much more happy, where Fabius, Servilius, Cato, and Lentulus, fought vigorously; and we had without doubt utterly defeated the right, had not we also had our particular misfortune. For after Scipio had performed the gallantest actions that could be done by man, saved the life of Pyneus, wounded Ducarion, who was an Insubrian of quality, and commanded the forces of his own Nation in Hannibal's Army, and after he had also taken the King of the Allobroges prisoner, he resolved to go where Hannibal was said to be fight, presuming that was the place where the Romans most needed succour. In order to which commanding Flavius to carry Braveus to our Camp, and to take a thousand horse to guard him thither, he endeavoured to charge the Enemy's body; but he was of a sudden surprised to see twenty Elephants in the front, like so many forts or hideous Bulwarks. We endeavoured to make our Javelotiers on horseback advance against them, because we had no infantry to goad those beasts, and drive them by that means against our Enemies; for it was not very easy for us to kill them: but this was impossible to be done, for their terrible bulks so affrighted our horse, that they could not be made approach them. Wherefore we were constrained to draw off: and being forced to fight to open ourselves a passage, we could not reach where we intended, till our Army was retreating in sufficient disorder. 'Tis impossible for me to represent to you the grief we resented for this inprosperous enterprise; and indeed, being almost all wounded, for a good time we thought only of lamenting our unhappiness, without considering to get our wounds dressed.  
It is not necessary I should tell you the particulars of our loss, or that Cato and the King of Illyria were taken prisoners by the Enemies, and afterwards exchanged for the King of the Allobroges (whom Flavius had conducted to the Camp with very much dexterity and valour) and Ducarion, whom Aemylius had likewise caused to be conducted thither; 'tis sufficient, Madam, you have been informed in what manner we gave battle at Trebia, and how the Romans were unfortunately overcome, notwithstanding the great actions of Scipio and Aemylius, and all our Illustrious Gallants that followed them, and intimated them in that famous occasion. Publius and Sempronius performed wonders there, and this latter quitted the resentment he had kept against his Colleague, after the loss of the battle; for he had kept it indeed (notwithstanding his civility to Scipio) by reason of the words which Publius answered him in the Council of War; and he also caused Publius to quit the sentiment which he still retained; for he went to visit him at his Tent, desired his pardon for not having followed his opinion, and protested to him with more respect than his dignity and fierceness seemed to permit, that it was to go against Rome, to go against the opinion of such a Roman as Publius. The Illustrious Father of Scipio received the compliment of Sempronius, with very many testimonies of acknowledgement and esteem, and having returned his civility, they went both together to encourage their Soldiers who were still terrified, and to put all things in a readiness, that they might stoutly repel the Carthaginians, in case they should attempt to fall upon our Works. But for that the losses they suffered were not inferior to ours, they had no thought to pursue us. After this there passed nothing memorable, till the Creation of the new Consuls, who were the Fathers of Flaminius and Servilius. But, Madam, not to insist punctually in relating things you are unquestiably not ignorant of, since all the world knows them, and not to detain you with describing the losses we suffered in Italy; I am only to tell you, that after the battle of Trebia, Publius prepared himself to go to his Government of Spain, where his brother Cnaeus was arrived long since.  
Scipio's sorrow was redoubled, when he considered that he was going to be further removed from the Aemilia; and because he saw it was impossible for him to go to Rome, he writ to that fair person, and encharged Fabius with his Letter, using all the motives he thought capable to cause him to make the greatest diligence and speediest return, because he knew he would bring him an answer from Aemilia, that divine Lady having had the goodness to pass him a promise to that purpose. And accordingly Scipio had the satisfaction he hoped for; He found in Aemylia's Letter very many evidences of her esteem, and could discern in it a certain tenderness which that discreet Virgin had as it were obscured in terms that seemed to be only modest and obliging. By which means, of all the inquietudes wherewith the violent passion that possessed him, is usually accompanied, he resented at that time only that which was caused by absence.  
In the name of the Gods, Laelius (interrupted Nadalia) repeat us those two Letters; for I confess, I passionately desire to hear a kind one of the Illustrious Emilia. Sincerely, fair Nadalia (answered he) I am sorry I cannot satisfy you at this time; but I protest to you, that I did not read Emilia's answer often enough to be able to remember it, because it happened that I did not see that of Scipio. But be not dissatisfied, Madam, I beseech you; for in the Narration I am to make, happened so many different events, that there will be also in it Letters of as many different strains. After these words, observing Nadalia has no more to interrupt him with, he pursued his discourse in this manner.  
I am telling you, Madam, that Scipio upon his departure from Italy, resented only the inquietude that absence gives passionate Lovers; and I can moreover assure you, that he was not discontented to hear that Varro and Minutius were so highly ingraciated with the people, that they might reasonably pretend to the most considerable offices. For we understood that as wounded as they were, they desired, or at least made semblance to desire that they might be carried to Sempronius' Camp before he fought the battle of Trebia, that the people withstood their purpose, admired their generosity, and according to the genius of other Nations, augmented a certain blind and indiscreet ardour they were before possessed with; for persons who had lately dazzled their e●es by something that surprised them. We also understood that after the loss of that battle, they had given great sums of money towards the levying of forces, and in brief, had omitted nothing that might promote their advancement to some splendid dignity, so to cover the obscurity of their descent. And you shall hear, Madam, in the sequel of my discourse, that they attained that, but too soon for the misfortune of Rome, whereunto their ambition aspired. I shall omit to tell you with what preparations Publius departed from Italy, as well as the particular circumstances of his voyage, there being none remarkable enough in it to deserve your attention. When we were arrived in Spain (for you may judge, Madam, I may speak in that manner, and was with my Illustrious friend) we understood Himilcon was set forth from Carthage with a good number of ships, and was coming to reinforce the Naval Army of our Enemies, of which he was Commander; upon Publius resolving to oppose Himilcon, left the other Army to his brother Cnaeus to withstand Asdrubal, Barsa, and appointed Scipio and me his Lieutenant's General, Caeneus had already his Son, surnamed Nasica, and a Roman Knight named Martius.  
You have without doubt heard by fame, with what success the Scipio fought in Spain, and you cannot but know that under those Illustrious Romans, our Eagles flew there both by Sea and Land, the Carthaginian Forces being not able to stop them. You also know, that Hamilcon and Asrubal were beaten, that Publius and Cnaeus conquered a part of Spain, that they founded the City of Taragona there, and lastly made alliances very advantageous to the Romans. But for that perhaps you have not known the particular actions of Scipio, I should be obliged to make you a relation of them, if I did not think it more requisite to assure you in few words, that he was the person that contributed most to the acquisition of the Victories which the Romans gained, that he performed actions that filled me with astonishment, and that he was several times in the Army of Cnaeus to serve in it, and consequently render it victorious, when he had put that of his Father in a posture not to fear the enterprises of the Enemies. And indeed it was extremely necessary, that this young Hero should do all those great actions to repair in some manner the losses we suffered in other places; for our Armies had successes very contrary in Italy. When the fame of our Victories was spread abroad in Rome, Rome was no more than a desolated City, it was in a strange general consternation; the death of Flaminius, was publicly known with the loss of his Army; and, in a word, tidings was merely brought thither of the events of the battle at the Lake of Thrasimene, which I shall not relate to you, being certain they are known throughout the whole world. I shall also silently pass over, that at that time they were constrained to create a Dictator, and that Fabius was the person chosen to that charge, namely the Father of him that was amorous of Aemylia, who with the surname of Most-Great, gained also that of the shield of the people of Rome.  
These memorble passages are unknown to none, no more than that Minutius was made General of the Horse of the Dictator's Army, that he was afterwards equalised to him in Authority, beaten by Hannibal, and relieved by the Illustrious Fabius; and at length deposed himself from the Magistrates, and would fight no longer but under the orders of the Dictator. It's also well known that Fabius was called the Delayer, because instead of fight Hannibal, he still declined the encounter, but it was with a destructive design to our enemies, whom he held besieged by possessing himself always of the high places that commanded the plain. So that the Carthaginians being no longer able to send forth parties to forage for provisions which they frequently wanted, their wilily General was constrained to make use of the Oxen of his Army, for opening a passage for his Army in the manner you have heard reported, and posterity will without question admire. But, Madam, if we were surprised in hearing of the advancement of Minutius, we were much more strangely at that of Varro, who sometime after that I am speaking of, was to our unhappiness created Consul with the Illustrious Father of Aemylia.  
Scipio suddenly admired the capriciousness of our Nation, but being willing afterwards to excuse their proceeding, he told me with a sincere and heroical generosity, that perhaps Varro had since our departure acquired the moderation and other virtues he wanted at our being there, that at least he passionately wished it was so, and that the people of Rome might not have cause to repent the choice they had made. But, alas! we, and all the earth, too soon understood that Varro was not at all amended, that he was always violent and void of conduct, and that the headiness of his humour in a short time rendered the plains of Cannae famous by the dreadful overthrow he occasioned the Roman there. We no sooner understood that in Italy the two Consular Armies were to unite to make one notorious encounter for the driving the Carthaginians from thence; but Scipio determined to go thither. For seeing the affairs of Spain were in a matter quiet, he could not continue there, and especially when he saw that by passing into Italy, he might render some service to Lucius or Aemylius, or at least might partake in the dangers they were going to adventure in.  
Publius had a strange repugnance to suffer us to depart; but he consented to it, being pressed by the entreaties of his Illustrious Son. Wherefore we departed as soon as possibly we could, and omitted no diligence till we rendered ourselves at Lucius' Camp. I remember that in our first interview, the Illustrious father of Aemylia embraced Scipio a long time in his arms, and then having caressed me almost in the same manner, he told us, the inconsiderate humour of Varro was more formidable to him then the valour of Hannibal, and that in all probability that Roman would do more mischief to Rome then all the Forces of Carthage. But as he was continuing his discourse, and informing us of the state of affairs, Servilius, who had been Consul the year before, Aemylius, Regulus and Cato, entered into the room, and broke off the conversation by the civilities and caresses they made to us and Lucius, gave way for us to receive. We were afterwards astonished to hear, that the next morning the battle was to be given, and that Varro wished for fight with as much impatience as the Great Fabius had avoided it with wisdom. But, in brief, it could not be avoided, but all the Soldiers of the Plebeian Consul (so they styled Varro) were absolutely for what their Chief desired, apparently incited to it by the false glory of their insolent Captain, and the false-apprehended limidity of the Illustrious Lucius. What need I tell you, Madam, since all the world knows it is but too true, that the bad genius of Rome, and the temerity of Varro caused us to give that fatal battle, and suffer those dreadful losses, which without doubt posterity will not hear of but with astonishment? Yes, Madam, we gave that bloody battle; and as if the good fate of Carthage had not been well enough seconded by the adventurous blindness of Varro, the subtleties of Hannibal must needs bear a part in that disastrous victory. For he drew up his forces in such a manner, that ours were exposed to the disadvantages of the wind and sun, by which they were so cruelly inconvenienced, that we not only could not overcome our enemies, nor so much as fight, but remained exposed to their blows without knowing which way to ward them off. Not, but that for all these inconveniences, Scipio surpassed himself, in performances exceeding all belief, and that Aemylius did wonders, and that all the Illustrious Romans I have mentioned to you, signalised themselves gloriously; but in fine, all their endeavours were not capable to resist an Army of an hundred thousand disciplined Veterans, conducted by a great Captain, and who besides all these advantages, had all that situation of places for such bloody encounters could afford. So that, Madam, in this fatal field, besides so many thousand of Soldiers that perished, we lost an infinite number of Knights and Senators, we lost Servilius who had been Colleague with Flaminius; but, alas! that which afflicted us most sensibly, was the loss of the Illustrious and infortunate Lucius, who was unfortunately slain in the rout. Ah! Madam, how can I recount to you the circumstances of this deplorable death? The Illustrious Lucius beholding all was lost on our side, resolved not to outlive this day; but yet to die gloriously, he sought out Hannibal to fight him, he thrnst himself wherever he saw the greatest danger, and in a word, the greatness of his courage made him perform actions little different from those of Scipio and Aemilius. But, alas! how fatal was that excessive valour to him! For as this great person was upon the point to charge Hannibal, his Horse was slain under him, and not losing his judgement, he disentangled himself from the stirrups, and fought on foot very vigorously, till at length he received three or four wounds at the same time, which enforced him to retire out of the fight. We presently received information of his misfortunne, and Scipio, Aemilius, Sempronius, Regulus, and myself redoubled our endeavours to get to him and relieve him. But as we were upon the point to do it, we were prevented by an extreme strange and unhappy accident. For Lucius being wounded in the manner I have told you, was sat down with his face turned towards the enemies, holding his sword in his hand, which he still lift up as often as his faintness would permit him: When Lentulus, who fought near that place, seeing him in so deplorable a condition, alighted, and presented his Horse to him; Here, my Lord (said he to him) make use of my horse to preserve a life so necessary to our Republic. I thank you Lentulus (answered he faintly, and yet in a manner that showed his gratitude) do you preserve yourself from Rome? I beseech you, save yourself, and leave an infortunate person to die, who will not survive the desolation of his Country. They who beheld Lentulus' action alighted also, to go succour their Illustrious General, and likewise the Horsemen that were at some distance doing the same, upon a mistake that they were commanded to fight on foot (which was a case not without example) this strange and lamentable accident happened just as we are approaching to Lucius, so that we suddenly beheld above a thousand Horses loose, which made a horrible disorder, and were an obstacle impossible for us to break through. Yet we endeavoured to open ourselves a passage; but as we are using all our diligence to that purpose, a body of our enemy's Cavalry falling upon those of our Horsemen that were alight, easily cut them in pieces, and afterwards driving back both the Horsemen and the Horses, and all that was in their passage, we were unhappily carried along with the crowd; and had the grief to see that apparently, the body of Lucius had been trampled by the feet of the Horses. It is impossible, Madam, fully to represent to you the greatness of the resentment of Scipio and Aemylius or what they performed when despair came to be added to their ordinary valour; I shall only tell you that they had undoubtedly perished, if that which was most likely to contribute to their ruin had not saved them. For being left but about ten or twelve thousand men of all our brave and numerous Army, we were soon surrounded by that of Hannibal, who had still above fourscore thousand. Upon which Sempronius and Appius desirous to preserve the remainder of our fortunate Troops, cried out to Scipio and Aemylius, that they should not fight where they did, but put themselves in the head of Romans that were left, and save them by opening a passage through the enemies, and so recovering a way for their retreat.  
Scipio and Aemylius, either for that they were still capable of that Roman constancy that induces to prefer the interest of our Country before all others, or that their grief resembling their disposition, was more effective to carry them to great actions, then unprofitable complaints, by adding the desire of revenge to that of Glory; However it were, they put themselves in the head of the ten or twelve thousand men I mentioned, and notwithstanding the wounds they had already received, made themselves a passage with their swords, and carried their party to Cannusium, as the world has heard and highly commended Sempronius for being the Author of that attempt. But, Madam, at Cannusium, these two Illustrious Romans manifested all the tenderness of their souls, and abandoned themselves wholly to grief, when the body of Lucius was brought to them, which they had presently sent to Hannibal to demand. I say, when the body of Lucius was brought to them, without denoting to you the circumstances of a time which was wholly a time of affliction, I shall also omit to describe to you the consternation that was seen at Rome; Cannusium, and all the Cities of our allies, choosing rather to pass that over in silence which I should fall infinitely short in representing, herein imitating a famous Painter, who drew a vail over those countenances whose extreme sadness he believed beyond the power of his Pencil to express. I presume you have known, Madam, that the ten thousand men whom we led to Cannusium, with the common consent both of Officers and Soldiers, chose the Illustrious Scipio to command them, and Appius with him, because he was Scipoi's kinsman, and had been, together with Sempronius, author of the enterprise that saved them, as I have told you; and lastly, because they would either preserve an order which resembled that of their usual command, namely, the having of two Consuls which were two Generals, or to favour Scipio, who they saw was considerably wounded. But for what reasons soever it was, they chose Appius with his Illustrious Kinsman, although there were then at Cannusium, an infinite number of persons considerable both for their descents and employments; for excepting Varro, Fabius, Flaminius, and Marcellus, who took their way towards Rome, all the remainder of brave and Illustrious persons was retired to Cannusium with us. For Aemilias', Sempronius, Fabius, Regulus, Cato, Leutulus, and too many others were there, but wounded as well as we. 'Tis true, the Illustrious Scipio had little mind to think of his cure, for his soul was wholly taken up with his own grief, and the apprehension of that which he foresaw the adorable Aemilia would resent when the doleful news of the death of her illustrious forefather, should be reported to her. Yet this extreme affliction did not absolutely hinder him from taking care of the troops which were put under his conduct in so obliging a manner. And indeed, when we were determining to cause the body of Lucius to be carried to Rome, notice was brought us that divers young Romans of chief quality resolved to abandon Italy, and seek a Sanctuary in some remote Country; we were informed Metellus was the author of that Cabal, and it was at his quarte●s that the complotters were assembled. Upon which, Scipio, as all the world as all the world has heard, went to Metellus' his lodgings, and being transported by his grief, the greatness of his courage, and zeal for his Country, drew his sword as he entered alone into a Hall where there were about forty men assembled, and looking upon them one after another, with a fierce and scornful aspect, mixed with terror and sorrow, I come hither (cried he to them) to know who those unworthy persons are that intent to abandon Rome, and go seek and infamous safety in another Country; I come to make them renounce so horrible a design; or to punish them myself at this instant: and if you are all of this detestable complot (added he, beholding them with greater fierceness, and lifting up his arm) and will not alter your resolution, know I have drawn this sword only against you, which I will never sheathe till I have washed it in your blood, till I have slain you all, and till I have revenged my Country. Yes (added he again) I will kill you all, if you have taken up so infamous a resolution as you are accused of; for if you are capable of such cowardises, you will not without doubt be capable to resist on't Scipio all together.  
He had scarce pronounced these words, but all the assembly was not only astonished, but so terrified at them, that there was none of them that answer 〈…〉 in the name of the rest. Our young Hero vva● nevertheless not satisfied by having frighted such a multitude; but perceiving that speaking to all, no particular person thought himself obliged to answer; he advanced fiercely towards Metellus, who was said to be the author of so black a desiggn; he seized with one hand on his Coat of armour, and lifting up his sword with the other; 'Tis to you, Metellus (cried he with a menacing accent) that I address, as he that has engaged all this company in so detestable an enterprise; but you must either perish at this moment (added he) or swear before the immortal Gods, that you will cease to live before you will cease to serve Rome. Metellus was much more terrified by this last action and words of Scipio, than he had been by his first menaces; so that seeing himself so straight urged, he accordingly sworn at length, and after him all his companions sworn also in the manner that Scipio required.  
After this action which made so great a report in the world, our Illustrious Roman went to Aemilius' quarters, where he was visited by the principal Officers of his Troops, who had been there before to make there compliments to Aemilius upon the death of Lucius. Scipio received them with all the civility that the public and his particular affliction could permit him; and having afterwards recommended to them the constancy of true Romans to their death, he desired Appius, who also came to Emilius some moments after, to take care alone of the Troops which they commanded, telling him there was a necessity upon himself to go to Rome, in relation to an affair of highest importance. So we departed the next morning from Cannusium, and caused the body of Lucius to be carried to Rome, which we accompanied with all the Romans of quality, whose wounds were not considerable enough to oblige them to keep the bed. But, Madam, if I have not been able to describe to you the affliction of Scipio and Emilius; how is it possible for me to represent that which Claudia and her adorable daughter resented upon our arrival? 'Tis beyond all the power of words to do; and you may please only to let me tell you, that the constancy of Claudia abandoned her in this occasion, that this desolate Lady was not capable of remembering that at least the death of her Illustrious Lucius was glorious, that as truly Romans as she was, she forgot for some time the losses of the Common wealth, only to think of that of her own house, and in a word, that she so absolutely resigned herself up to her sorrow, that she caused all those to weep who endeavoured to stop the flood of her tears. Not, that she presently fell to violent weeping; for her grief was of such a nature, that it could not so express itself; for she was seen to embrace Emilius, and close him fast in her arms during more than a quarter of an hour, without being able either to speak or lament. Nor did she let her dear Son go, before she was several times advertised that he was wounded; and as she beheld him retiring, that he might not show her the excess of his affliction, Ah! my son (said she to him lamentingly) you have now no longer a father! This, Madam, was all Claudia was able to speak to Aemilius in that first interview. Scipio, who intended to make a reverence to her, could not do it at first, so vigorously was he seized with sorrow himself, because he perceived the adorable Aemilia was infinitely afflicted; who being met in the passage by her Illustrious brother, they embraced one another, and expressed so many tokens of a real dearness, and an extreme affliction that all the spectators were yet more deeply affected with it. How then, Madam, could Scipio be Master of his grief, since there was no person in the company, but showed as much sadness, as if every one of them had lost some very near relation in the person of Lucius. It must also be confessed, that Aemylia alone might have drawn tears from persons that had the least disposition to tenderness; for could any without being deeply affected, have beheld a young and fair person, whose extreme grief appeared upon her countenance only by a faint languor, which rendered it infinitely moving, and yet withal made it evident, that she was far more sensibly sorrowful, than those that express themselves in Acclamations and transport. Besides, Aemilia's beauty being of a fair complexion, the brightness of it was undoubtedly heighned by the mourning attire that is usually worn in the like occasions. So that it was impossible, as I have said, to behold a person so fair and so afflicted without, presently resenting all the motions of tenderness that compassion and grief are capable to excite. But, Madam, it will be no exaggeration to say, that the affliction of my Illustrious friend was beyond all that others suffer in such losses; for he was not able to speak to Claudia, when he made his reverence to her, though that Illustrious Lady embraced his head a long time togegether, which he bowed down out of respect, and told him that she lost much more in the death of Lucius than he believed, because he he had been loved by him above what he imagined. But, Madam, when this afflicted Lover was to approach to Aemilia, he found it was impossible for him; so that after having made a thousand offers which proved unprofitable, he was constrained to go away without making a reverence to that afflicted beauty; so true it is, that he could not be master of his grief, having cast his eyes upon the divine countenance he was infinitely enamoured of. When we departed from Claudia's house, we went to that of my father, who losing not much time in testifying to us the sensible joy he resented to see us return from a battle, where it was believed all were perished, caused us presently to be led to a bed, and having taken order for our wounds, and some convenient repast for us, went forth of our Chamber to leave us to take repose. But, Madam, how little was Scipio capable of keeping any! For his mind was wholly filled with Aemilia, and his affliction. He sighed every other moment, and his sleep was interrupted frequently by the image of that fair person; he believed every thing be beheld looked ghastly, and resented so lively a sorrow after the sight of that of Aemilia, that he imagined all things had changed their aspect, or at least ought to have changed it by the affliction of that divine person. Whereby, Madam, this grief of Scipio destroyed that little health his travels and wounds had left him, and cast him into a long and languishing disease, during which we had either hope or fear according to the different relations that persons which visited him brought him concerning Aemilia, though without knowing the high interest he had therein. But at length we knew by the amendment of his distempers, that there was some mitigation in the sorrow of Claudia and Aemilia; and as if Love had been as well Master of his body, as it was certainly of his heart, his health returned assoon as Aemilius was in a condition to go and see him; inasmuch as he gave him assurances of his happiness, by confirming to him in the name of Claudia, the promise that Lucius had made him. Claudia visited him some days after herself; for besides that, we were lodged at my father's house, the Ladies not only made no difficulties at this time to visit those that were returned wounded from the Army; but they wholly addicted themselves for a good time to that pious employment; so that according to what was told us by those that saw it, it was the most sad spectacle in the world to meet frequently companies of Ladies, and those of the most Illustrious, coming forth of one house drying their tears, and entering into another, where they were sure to find a new occasion to weep: for you may judge, Madam, such visits were not made without the recounting of some of the particulars of that fatal battle we had lately lost; But if Claudia's visit corroborated a health that Aemilius had in a manner revived, I may say the adorable Aemilia absolutely confirmed it by an obliging answer she returned to a Letter writ to her by Scipio, assoon as he was able to do it. The amorous Scipio had written with all the passion that he could express in keeping nevertheless a certain decorum, which the condition affairs were then in, obliged him to observe more exactly than a contrary conjuncture could: for if a time of rejoicing seems in a manner to be consecrated to love, and consequently to give us a certain liberty of expressing the sentiments that noble passion inspires us with, a time of mourning is destinated only for tears; and it seems to be irregular and unsuitable to speak of other then sad subjects, and such as serve not to feed the miserable passion that is then predominant, and that with the consentment of the sufferers. But Rome was not in this consternation so long a time, as it was apparent she would have been; for intelligence was brought, that Hannibal was gone to Capua in stead of prosecuting his Victory, and that in Spain the two Scipios, Publius and Cnaeus had almost utterly defeated the Carthaginians, with the confederates they had in that Country. My Illustrious friend received this last news with extreme satisfaction, and moderated the regret he had for not partaking in that Victory, when he understood his brother and his kinsman Nasica had highly signalised themselves as well as the brave Martius, for whom he had already many sentiments of esteem and friendship. But as it seems, that Illustrious persons are never unhappy by halves, this news that Scipio received, served only to suspend his affliction for a time, to the end his mind might be more sensible of the grief, which he was afterwards to be cruelly assaulted with. For within a short space after the tidings of the death of Publius, and that of Cnaeus were brought him; and he also led their Armies, whereby defeated, after gaining of the last battle they fought, if Martius had not preserved them by an admirable conduct. Verily, the constancy of Scipio was found too weak to support this last stroke of misfortune; and this Illustrious Roman, whose soul was as tender in these kind of accidents, as unmovable in other occasions, could not think of the loss new befallen him, without lamenting in so sensible a manner, that it moved the hearts of all that came to see him, and evidently discovered the greatness of his affliction. But when I was alone in his Chamber, he abandoned himself much more to his grief; for walking up and down there, he recalled into his mind all circumstances that could augment it, he reflected on the extraordinary merit of Publius, and discoursed to me of it, and then recounting a thousand testimonies of dearness he had received from him, he suddenly stopped, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, dispatch, cruel destiny (cried he) accomplish thy fury, unmerciful fate! and since 'tis not enough to afflict me to make me see Italy ruinated by Hannibal, to make me see Lucius dead, Aemilia afflicted, and destroy Publius and Cnaeus in Spain, while I am at Rome, to the end they may not receive the assistance they might require of him. I would not interrupt these complaints of Scipio, lest I should augment the violence of his grief by causing him to restrain it; so that walking with him, I observed that after having a little mused upon what he had sad said, he lift up his eyes again to Heaven, and following the motions of piety that all the world admires in him, he sighed, and then cast down his eyes, as if to desire pardon of the Gods for his transport, for to submit himself entirely to their providence. Aemilius about this time entered into the Chamber where we were, not standing upon the caution that forbids persons that have endured great losses to make visits of this nature. For his own grief did not hinder him from resenting that of Scipio, of which he gave so apparent tokens, that he seemed by an undesired gratitude to repay our Illustrious Mourner what he before received from him; and indeed I think never two persons gave testimonies of a real dearness with more regret in the like occasions. Yet they could have no great conversation together, by reason of the great company that began that day to visit Scipio, who came so numerously during seven or eight days, that it was impossible in that time for his best friends to entertain him in the manner they desired; for not only men of quality came thither, but likewise almost all the Ladies, those that were young and fair, being accompanied by some relation of elder age. Yet Claudia was not there, either for that her mourning dipensed with her for making that visit, or by reason of some indisposition that hindered her; but she sent every day to inquire of his health, in so obliging a manner, that without doubt he preferred those compliments above all the honours that accompanied the visits that were made him by others. Wherefore Scipio was extremely desirous to wait upon her with his remerciments, and see her afflicted daughter, which she did, as soon as seemliness could permit him.  
Aemylius, who came that day to our house, went thither with him; and for that at his going in, he was told Claudia could not be seen without disturbance to her, he had Scipio to the Chamber of his Sister, where he tarried not long but left him. This passionate Lover notwithstanding his grief, could not hinder himself from beholding Aemylia with all the tokens of a violent Love, so that this discreet Lady fearing lest he should mention a passion to her that was not very conformable to her present state, beheld him with an air that sufficiently showed the greatness of her affliction, and having suffered some tears to fall from her fair eyes: Alas! Scipio (said he to him) your presence would soon remind me of the death of the unfortunate Lucius, could I be unnatural enough to forget it; for though you had not lately suffered a less resembling mine, yet there are many circumstances which would not cease to represent to me the greatness of my misfortune, 'Tis true, Madam, answered he sighing) that we have suffered equal losses. But, Madam, (added he) with an air extremely passionate) since they are inseparable, I find so much sweetness in being miserable while you are not happy, that the resemblance certainly lightens part of my affliction. Ah! Scipio (replied she) you consider not well what you say, for if you reflected both on the public and the private affliction that we ought to resent, you would unquestionably not imagine there was any thing left to lighten part of your grief. Ah! Madam (answered he) you little understand me, if you can believe I speak before you without considering what I say; and you little imagine what passes in my heart, when you believe that grief alone can entirely possess it. For indeed, Madam, when I revolve in my mind the desolation of Italy, the consternation of Rome, the death of Lucius whom I honoured infinitely, and that of a father▪ who was infinitely dear to me, I should without question die with grief, if I did not immediately consider there was something left me more estimable than I●aly, Rome, and all the Kingdoms of the earth, something more dear than Lucius, then Publius', and then all my relations and friends; which is, Madam, (continued he, after having beheld her after a manner perfectly passionate and moving) the passion which I have for the fairest person in the world. Yes, Madam (added he again, preventing Aemylia from interrupting him) that passion alone makes the felicity of my life, and being not dependant on the Empire of Fortune, I may say the dominion of that inconstant Goddess extends not to the greatness of all my happinesses, and that it is impossible for her to hinder me from living and dying happy, because she cannot hinder me from living and dying the adorer of Aemilia.  
These last words of Scipio mightily perplexed the fair person that heard them, because if she considered 'twas a lover perfectly illustrious that pronounced them, and that with infinite respect, and a passion generally approved by all her relations, she withal feared to offend against virtue, or at least against seemliness, if she should be capable to hear a discourse concerning other subjects then that of her affliction; wherefore she took a way of answering Scipio without wholly checking his sentiments which she could not condemn, or infringing a certain severity she believed herself obliged to observe during this time of sadness. But as she was going to speak, one came to tell Scipio from Aemilius, that Claudia was awaked and would be glad to see him, so that this passionate Lover was constrained to part from the person he loved, without knowing her sentiments upon what he had spoken. Indeed when he made her a profound reverence, and beheld her eyes to consult her mind from thence, he had the satisfaction not to see any signs of hatred in them, and he was willing to flatter himself by believing, that if he observed not the contrary passion in them, it was grief alone that hindered it to appear in the places were itself had taken up its jurisdiction. This flattering thought tempered part of his sorrow, and even inspired him afterwards with more confident sentiments than his affliction seemed to permit him: for he came suddenly to imagine, that perhaps Claudia might consent to the consummation of his marriage forthwith, that in probability she would not insist on the severe policy of Lucius, and that especially the absence of Pynaeus was a very favourable conjuncture for it. Besides, that if that King, whose sole interest had occasioned the deferring of his happiness, was gone into Illyria to make new Levies there; his other Rivals were as little able to prejudice his pretensions, Fabius having not yet declared his, and Varro reduced to a condition, disabling him to proceed with his former addresses. Upon which considerations the passionate Scipio determined to request Claudia to consent to render him happy: but assoon as he was entered into her Chamber with Aemilius, he was was far from being able to declare his design, his grief, which had been only suspended by the presence of Aemilia, resuming its former violence from the sight of that of Claudia; so that the conversation was extremely sad, and being only employed upon the subject of over-throws, deaths and desolations, it filled the imagination of the three afflicted persons that were engaged in it, notwithstanding but the images of Urns, Ashes, Tombs and Funerals. But Scipio was no sooner come away with Aemylius from Claudia, than Aemilia returned again into his mind, and dispelled thence by her lustre part of that gloomy humour, a mournful discourse had possessed him with, so that he was again in a condition of thinking of the means to render himself happy, and resolved to discover his sentiments to Aemilius, as the only person who might best do him a favour in this important occasion. Yet he received not from him that satisfaction he desired; for Aemilius weighing the matter without passion, answered him, that it was not time to think of celebrating his marriage, that though the interest of Pynaeus were not annexed to that of Rome, their families had lately suffered too considerable losses, to constrain the deferring the accomplishment of such a Treaty. To which he added so much reason, that Scipio was convinced of what he alleged; besides that of a sudden this generous Lover came to think that he was obliged to go and revenge the death of Publius, and acquire a glory that might not only encourage him to demand in a more noble way that of the possessing of Aemilia, but give occasion to Rome for some of those extraordinary rejoicings that seemed necessary to a marriage of that importance. In which heroical design being fully confirmed, he departed, and with all speed betook himself to demand the Government, and command of the Armies of Spain, and obtained the same, as you have unquestionably heard, though he; had not yet arrived to the age required thereunto by our Laws. Thus, Madam, we are going to see Scipio marching to Victory with a more firm and glorious place, and we shall soon see him a conqueror, because we shall see him General; and moreover, we shall remark what has hitherto been unknown, that love will have a greater share in the brave actions he is going to perform, than either ambition or the interest of his Country. I shall not detain you, Madam, with any particulars preceding our departure, as the equipage of my friend, which showed both his magnificence and his affliction, the Levies he caused to be made to recruit the Troop; which were scarce any thing more than the Relics of an Army, nor with the last conversation he made with Aemilia. I shall content myself with telling you that their separation was not without expressions infinitely dear and extremely heroical, and that Scipio left the Palace of Claudia with so great regret, and yet with so noble an ardour, that it was not difficult to remark in his countenance a mixture of fierceness, love, and sorrow. After which, he speedily took order for all things requisite to his voyage; and having had the goodness to tell me he would give me the command of one of the two Armies; we departed from Rome embarked, and without the arrival of anp accident that deserves relation, happily landed with thirty ships of War at the Port of Emporia, from whence we went to Taragona, the to hold a Council of War, and receive the Ambassadors of our Allies.  
Nevertheless, these Military affairs did not hinder Scipio from resenting a sensible sorrow, when he considered how far remote he was from Aemilia, and in a Country where his Father and Uncle had been slain. But if this circumstace of place reduced into his mind the death of those two men, it was more lively represented to him by the presence of his young brother, and that of his kinsman Nasica, whom we found at Tarrogona. It was in this City that Scipio intended to add to the immortal glory of Publius and Cnaeus, the magnificence of Monuments, which he did with so much sorrow, that I esteemed his affliction infinitely more valuable than the marble and porpliry which he caused to be employed in the Work. Nevertheless, if, as I said, the Offices of a General did not hinder him from performing the duty of a Son, his piety did as little hinder him from discharging that of Captain of an Army. Wherefore he drew his Forces into the field, assoon as he judged himself in a posture to march against Asdrubal, who had made a confederacy with the Kings of Celtiberia, and the Illergetes, and was moreover advantaged by the valour of Lucius Prince of Celtiberia, who was deeply enamoured on the Princess of the Illergetes, for whose sake he was come into Spain. Hereupon Scipio resolved to fight those three Confederates, whose Army was indeed gallant and numerous, and left the Naval Forces to be commanded by me, with a satisfaction that was so●n abated by the necessity of our separation. I should have a thousand things to tell you of the great actions performed by this admirable General, were they not already sufficiently published by fame, And I might also tell you by the way, that I had the happiness to give chase to all the Carthaginian ships that appeared upon the Coast which I guarded, and at length we gave battle to Himilcon, in which I came off not ingloriously. But, Madam▪ neither was any thing that I performed, or the young Scipio, N●si●a, Martius, and Syllarus, though persons of eminent valour, in any measure comparable to the actions of our Hero: he beat Asdrubal, took prisoner Mangonius King of the Illergetes, and in spite of the opposition of Lucius (who is one of the valiantest Princes of the world, and was dangerously wounded in this encounter) cut in pieces part of their Army, put the other to flight, and to complete the terror of the Spaniards, resolved upon the siege of their capital City, the new Carthage, which was without doubt one of the fairest, richest, and strongest Cities of Europe. I being at that time not far distant from Scipio, he was pleased to require my judgement upon the resolution he had made, in order to which I was no sooner come to him upon his summons, but he called a Council of War. But we scarce assembled to deliberate what course to take in this important enterprise, but we beheld a man enter, whose sadness presently affected Scipio, and caused him to advance towards the door of the chamber to inquire the cause of his coming, and his melancholy. What intelligence do you bring us Valerius, said he to him? (for he was a person that belonged to Emilius) Is it any bad news of Claudia, your Master, or— he was not able to pronounce the name of Emilia before one that came from her, and sad too. I left Claudia and Aemilia in good health (answered he) but, my Lord, the case is not so well with my Master, who is wounded and prisoner in no Carthage. How? Aemylius prisoner, and wounded? (cried Scipio with great surprise, although with less grief than he would have resented, if he had not before heard good tidings of Aemylia) 'Tis most certain, he is so, my Lord, (answered he) and to tell you in few words the circumstances of this misfortune, you may please to know that my Master would not go with you from Rome, fearing lest the alliance which is shortly to be between you, might induce you to offer him the most eminent employments even to the prejudice of Laelius; for which reason not to cast you into the necessity of being deficient either in relation to love or friendship, he would not discover to you that he intended to serve under you, and stayed till you had given your friend and your relations the most important charges before he would come to join with you; And he no sooner understood that Laelius was to command the Naval Army, and that you had also disposed of the eminentest places, but he departed from Rome, though not till after he had acquitted himself in a combat with the Prince of Macedonia for the interests of Papyria. But, my Lord, we accomplished not our voyage so happily as we began it; for about seven or eight days since, we were set upon by a party of Carthaginians, when we had but three or four hours' journey to reach your Army. Although my Master had only some Officers of his house, and two or three slaves, yet he would not yield himself, but with admirable valour for a long while resisted a body of sixty or eighty horse. Nevertheless it behoved at length to give way to number; Aemylius was wounded, taken, and led to Carthage, where he is very well accommodated, but extreme vigilantly guarded, because the Carthaginians having learned who he is, resolve not to deliver him either for exchange or ransom, but to keep him, in order to advantage themselves by him in making a composition, in case your valour reduce them to that extremity. We shall, perhaps, have other means to free Aemylius (answered Scipio) and since ransom or exchange cannot avail for his liberty (continued he, suffering himself to be transported by the greatness of his courage) I will myself go break his fetters, maugre the forces of our enemies, and the rampants of Carthage.  
After these words, he remitted Valerius to the care of ●lavius; and without staying to inquire in what manner he had escaped, he turned towards the Officers that were assembled in his Chamber, and told them with a fierce and ardent aspect, that the siege of Carthage was resolved upon, and that he would either perish or win that City the same day he attaqued it.  
At these words all the company silently looked upon him, the valour of Scipio, and the greatness of the enterprise holding their minds in suspense what they should answer; whereupon our famous General again confirming what he had said, all the Officers consented with him, not being able to believe him capable of attempting what he could not execute. In the mean time, Martius, who had not been at Scipio's quarters, because he was at that time employed in preparing all conveniences for a journey to Rome (for, Madam, he was not in a condition fit for service, and had received in the last skirmish a wound with a javelin in the right arm) Martius, I say, was astonished when the procedure of Scipio was related to him; and for that he well knew the temper of that young Hero, and admired his rare qualities, he was so apprehensive lest he should impatiently precipitate himself into some great danger, that being of more years than Scipio, and the services he had performed warranting him the liberty to speak his sentiments in the like occasions, he writ to him that he ought not to suffer himself to be transported any more by that noble ardour which had already gained him glory enough to merit immortally, entreated him to remember that he was General of an Army, that it was no longer free for him to act as a Volunteer, and that in a word be ought not to be prodigal of a blood illustrious and absolutely necessary to the Commonwealth.  
Scipio, who had his heroical qualities, conjoined those of civility and candour, by which he was led to interpret things according to the intention of their Author, received this Letter of Martius with many demonstrations of friendship, and answered to it in these terms.  
Scipio to Martius.  
DId you understand all the power of Love, I could easily justify my procedure to you by naming to you the person whom I must see at Carthage; and by that means discovering to you the secret of my heart. After which I presum you would not condemn me, but rather pardon the ardour which you now reproach me with, though in a very obliging strain, and after the manner which I judged as ingenious as it is obliging.  

All the company being with-drawn when Scipio received the Letter of Martius, and testified his intention to answer it, I was left alone in his Chamber with the Officer who waited for the answer which was to be returned to his Master; so that Scipio, after he had written it, read it aloud to me, and told me, he did not judge it meet to name the person whom he said he was to see in Carthage, for fear lest the matter should come too soon to the knowledge of Claudia and Aemylia. But when we were alone, he entertained me with the violence of his passion, telling me of the grief Aemilia would resent, if she came to understand the misfortune of her brother before the taking of Carthage; and afterwards discoursing to me concerning the siege of that City; Wonder not, Laelius, (said he to me) that I resolve to win Carthage in one day, though it be very strong and seem even absolutely impregnable; you know (continued he) that it is encompassed on one side with a little bay of the Sea, that on the other there is a Lake that washes the foot of the walls, that the Lake and the Bay meet together, so that there is only a tongue of Land that hinders it from being wholly encompassed: Now you may easily enter with your ships into the Port, and block up the City towards the Sea, and I will cause Syllanus to possess himself of the Tongue of Land; and I conceive (added he) I shall win the City on that side towards the Lake. But it is not foardable (interrupted I). It seems not to be so (answered he) and all the world believes it is not, which will be to my advantage; for the walls that stand towards those ●aters, being neither high nor well guarded, it will not be difficult for me to employ a Scalado there with good success. Trebellius has positively assured me of what I now tell you; you know he is not often mistaken in such affairs, but after having a long time been the disciple of the famous Archimedes, he has had the curiosity to see all the strongest places in Europe, whose situation he has exactly observed. Besides, his skill not hindering him from being courageous, he has desired me to permit him to follow me in this occasion, which leaves us no reason to doubt of the truth of his words. Yet, I have heard the contrary reported (replied I) to what you are assured of. The persons then that informed you (answered he) made not the same observations with Trebellius, since they have not told you that the Bay and Lake joining together, the latter is greatly augmented by the flux of the Sea, but afterwards decereasing by the ebb, there is not left water enough in it to hinder it from being fordeable.  
Scipio having added many other things tending to convince me, after all (added he) ought not something extraordinary to be done for the deliverance of Emilia's brother, and the taking of a City which is not only the chief of all Spain, but into which many persons of greatest quality of several Nations are retired with all their wealth, and whatever they account precious? Which being achieved, it will not be difficult for us afterwards to reward our Soldiers, and gain the affection of the several Nations by gentle treatments of their Sovereigns or Magistrates which we shall without doubt find in Carthage. This, Madam, was the conversation I had with Scipio, concerning the memorable enterprise; after which we parted, and the next morning I took my way to my Ships, as Martius did his to Rome. But not to be tedious to you, I shall proceed to tell you, that Scipio having ordered all things necessary with extreme diligence, he assaulted that important place three days after he had taken the resolution to do it. And he observed the same order I mentioned to you. For as I had the good fortune, in spite of all resistance made me, to enter into the Port of Carthage, and Syllanus was come in the head of his Troop to assault the walls of it by Land, Scipio some time after the reflux of the Sea, sent us order to redouble our storm, so to draw the principal forces of the enemies to those parts, and consequently to weaken that by which he designed to gain it. Syllanus and I had no sooner obeyed him, being seconded by Nasica, and the young Scipio, but our Hero standing upon the Lake at the head of the troops which he had chosen; My friends (cried he with a sprightly and fierce aspect) I should be injurious to you, if I should speak much; words are needless to to men of courage, therefore I shall only tell you that you are going where your General shall be your company, and the witness of your valour. Let us on then, my friends, let us win Carthage; and I promise you the taking of this City shall render us Masters of all Spain, make Africa tremble, and crown us with immortal glory. He had no sooner spoke these few words, but he seized upon a Ladder, and then casting himself into the Lake, incited by his example a thousand brave persons to do the same. 'Tis true, he always preceded them, and being arrived at the foot of the walls, planted the first Ladder against them; and then drawing his sword, and covering himself with his shield, he began to ascend with an aspect that no doubt encouraged the hearts of all those that followed him. The walls were not so unguarded, but that they were suddenly bordered with Soldiers at the first alarm that was given there, so that our valiant▪ General likewise redoubled his forces as the Carthaginians did their, and always supporting his shield with a strong arm, continued to mount up with an heroical audacity, notwithstanding a shower of arrows and stones falling upon him; and though he beheld a hundred Ladders overturned on each side. At length he got up, and as a Soldier was stretching forth his arm to strike at him with his sword, and hinder him from casting himself upon the walls, the courageous General prevented him, and by a great back blow struck off both arm and sword down into the Lake. This remarkable blow so terrified those that beheld it, that Scipio had time to leap upon the wall, before they were well enough recovered out of their amazement to hinder him, and afterwards casting those down into the City that came to oppose his passage, he soon saw himself backed by Trebellius, Digitius, and above twenty others whom his example had emboldened; so that the fight becoming very disorderly▪ upon the wall, the Romans found fewer obstacles in ascending it; after which the Illustrious Scipio did not delay to cast himself into the City, designing to gain one of the Gates, and open it to Syllanus,. Yet he found great resistance in the execution of his purpose; for the Prince of Celtiberia ran thither, being followed by a thousand selected Spaniards, who signalizing themselves in this encounter, sufficiently justified the choice which the valiant Lucius had made of them. But as lightning shafts, all that seems to make a strong resistance, our invincible Conqueror beat down all that opposed his passage; he strikes, thrusts, kills, wounds Lucius, gains a Gate, causes the Romans to enter, who suddenly setting up a great shout, displayed our Eagles in the conquered City, and made the air resound with the glorious name of Scipio. The Governor of Carthage, with whom I was engaged (for I had landed, and was so fortunate as to get into the City after I had gained the Port) went to relieve Lucius, and repel our forces; but after a very great resistance he was taken prisoner, with the Prince of Celtiberia, who caused us to admire his valour, and would without doubt have occasioned himself to be slain, had not his sword been suddenly broken, and he found himself enclosed amidst a thousand Soldiers. But I need not, Madam, particularise to you the actions of that memorable day, since all the world has known that the valour of Scipio equalled the sublimest degree of that of the most recorded Heroes, and that this famous Roman raised himself afterwards an admiration for those virtues which are esteemed much more than that prodigious valour. For there is a passage I am going to tell you, which more deserves our wonder then what I have hitherto related; and we cannot but with astonishment consider a change in Scipio, which most certainly is more to be extolled then the noblest constancy. For scarce was Carthage in the Roman power, and the brother of Aemylia at liberty, but our Illustrious Roman appeared to be a Carthaginian; this young Conqueror, so fierce, ardent and terrible, becomes of a sudden so gentle, so moderate, and so full of sweetness, that nothing is more certain than that the Spaniards and Africans began infinitely to love him, assoon as they ceased to fear him. But they shortly after accompanied their love with veneration greater than what uses to be entertained for men; which was not without cause, since our Hero did things which men are not accustomed to do. No doubt, Madam, you have heard, that the Kings of Celtiberia, and the Illergetes, with the Queens their wives, being followed by the most considerable of the Spaniards, and five and twenty or thirty fair prisoners, were presented to Scipio, and received by him with a civility so great, that they resented pleasure in the bitterness of their fortune, and offered to their Conqueror that which certainly an Emperor of the Romans, or the greatest conqueror in the world ought not to have hoped, and in a word, that which could not be rendered with justice to any other than our Grand Scipio, who unquestionably showed himself perfectly worthy of it, since in the ardour of a most flourishing youth, he placed himself above the reach of the most violent passions, and whatever is most charming in them, especially in an age where the intemperate heat of blood usually favours tumultuous passions. 'Tis unknown to none, Madam, that our generous Roman would not suffer himself to be proclaimed King of Spain, and answered those that termed him by that title, He was a Roman Citizen, and that he only used his sword for glory, and the advantage of his Country. But if the moderation of a Conqueror was esteemed, who out of a perfectly heroical generosity had refused a potent Kingdom; the Ladies that were Prisoners much more admired his virtue, when they found a Protector in a young Conqueror, and were treated by him with an aspect that gave them assurance that the fairest among them were in absolute ●afety.  
Moreover, Liberty was immediately granted to them, as also to all the Spaniards; but it was after such a manner, that without doubt gained their hearts, and so sensibly obliged them, that it may be said Scipio captived all those which he declared to be free. But scarce had the Queens rendered thanks to so generous a Victor, but Mandonius and judibilis, their husbands protested solemnly that they were not contented only to disengage themselves from the interest of the Carthaginians; but that they gave themselves up entirely to Scipio, and were ready to hazard their Lives and States for whatever concerned his service.  
The Spaniards, & the fair Prisoners which were in their train, were willing also to testify their acknowledgement, which they expressed in shouts of joy and admiration; and there happened to be heard amongst them certain broken speeches in which were confusedly pronounced the names of Scipio,, Olinda, King of Spain, and marriage. But at length all the crowd being withdrawn, Scipio was ravished with joy to see himself in a condition, enabling him to express to Aemylius the sentiments of his esteem and dearness; so that he went presently to his Chamber, where he embraced him, and enclosing him between his arms, manifested to him the excess of joy he resented by his presence, and by that what sorrow he had endured upon understanding the news of his imprisonment and wounds. After which he mentioned the obligation he had to him, for that in respect to him, he had chosen rather to serve in Spain then in Italy, complaining withal of that admirable modesty which had constrained him from discovering to him his intention of coming to his Army; nor did he omit to speak concerning the quarrel he had had with the Prince Pers●us, which he did with an ardency that sufficiently showed the great interest he took in it.  
When he had ended those discourses, he beheld Aemylius after a manner which signified, that what he was going to speak, was yet more agreeable than all he had already spoken. Which Emilius taking notice of, and beholding the amorous Scipio with an obliging smile: To answer to your eyes (said he) rather then to the caresses you have spoken, I will speak concerning my sister, and assure you, that if we are not much obliged to those who esteem our enemies, you are without question not much obliged to Emilia. For as such enemies alone (continued he smiling again) are contemned who are not feared, so they seem only to be looked upon as considerable, that are accounted terrible; and consequently my sister esteems the enemies of Scipio, since she extremely dreads them. Ah! Emilius (answered this passionate Lover) how happy should I be, if your adorable sister had such an obliging fear! I● that fear conduces to your happiness (replied he) you have no cause to complain of your fortune, for Aemylia permitted me to discover a certain discontent he had, which assuredly the interest of Rome alone did not produce, when it was reported there, that the Kings of Celtiberia and Illergetes, were united with the Carthaginians, that the Prince Lucius was arrived in Spain, and that their Armies were extremely strong. Upon which their united forces seemed to her so formidable, that verily (added he smiling) if you had had the same sentiments with her, we should not now be making this conversation in New Carthage in the manner we are.  
He had scarce ended these words, but a Centurion entered with very much haste; and as he was going to speak to his General, I entered also, followed with ten or a dozen Officers, who were accompanying me to visit Emilius; and Scipio retired to one of the Windows to hear what the Centurion had to say to him; My Lord (said he presently with much commotion of countenance) you have never seen any thing so handsome as what I shall cause you to see at this present. There are so many kinds of handsomeness (answered the moderate Scipio, smiling) that it is difficult for me to comprehended what you mean, unless you speak somewhat more clearly concerning the thing you intent to show me. 'Tis, my Lord (replied he immediately) the incomparable Olinda; 'tis the fair Princess of the Illergetes; and in a word, 'tis that rare person whom the Prince Lucius is infinitely enamoured of, and all Spain admires. Yes, my Lord (added he) 'tis that charming Lady whom I have caused to be put in a place of safety, and I am going to cause her to be brought to you at this instant. You need only conduct me where she is (interrupted the generous Scipio) for it is inconsistent with decency to give that kind of trouble to a person of her sex, merit, and quality. After these words, he accordingly went whither the Centurion conducted him, before he so much as caused some slight wounds he had received to be dressed, which he had neglected before through his ardency to deliver Emilia's, and discourse with him concerning his divine sister; besides that the great number of prisoners I told you of were presented to him of a sudden.  
The Centurion had no sooner opened the door of the Hall where the Princess Olinda was, but offering to retire he was retained by Scipio, and caused to follow him; but as he advanced towards that young and handsome person, he perceived she was all alone; upon which he suddenly stopped, and instead of approachig to her, retired after he had made her a low reverence. At which time he forthwith sent to call some Ladies of Carthage, desiring them to abide with the Princess of the Illergetes; and taking some Officers also with him, he entered again and advanced towards her. The youth of the Conqueror, and the beauty of the Prisoner would not without question have promised the success that was admired in this interview, if Scipio had not been the Conqueror; but Olinda knowing him immedately by his goodly aspect, and better by the action he had performed at his entering the first time, she arose up, and went towards him, offering to cast herself at his feet, not so much for her own interest, being generous enough not to be capable of fear, but to show all kind of submission to a Conqueror, who by the right of Arms had an absolute power over the King and the Queen of the Illergetes. Scipio presently restrained her purpose, and told her after an obliging & respectful manner, that it belonged to the Princess Olinda to receive such homages from men that approached her. I protest to you, my Lord (answered she) that I would render that respect to you less as conqueror of— Madam (interrupted he) if you would render it with justice, I shall conduct you towards the persons to whom alone you owe it. For I am not come, Madam, but to beseech you most humbly, that you would please to pardon those who apparently have not treated you with all the cautious reverence that is due to you; I am not come but to declare so you, that you are not only free, but that you are still Princess of the Illergetes, and to lead you myself to the Queen your Mother, whither decency and affection require you to go, and whither virtue certainly, and the respect I owe you, oblige me to conduct you. Olinda admired the high generosity of Scipio, and having made him a remerciment sufficiently expressing her gratitude, and the esteem she had of the grandeur of his mind, she tendered him her hand, and went accordingly to the Palace, whither the King her Father was retired with the Queen his wife.  
Assoon as Scipio had remitted the Princess Olinda into the hands of the Queen her Mother, and received a thousand thanks for it, accompanied with praises and acclamations, he went to the house he had made choice of to reside in, and caused himself to be dressed, whence afterwards he went to see the Prince of Celtiberia. Lucius immediately advanced towards Scipio, and without either pride or lowness performed all the honours he judged befitting an Illustrious Conqueror, which he never accompanied with that shameful submission that she vanquished, who preserve not all their generosity in bad fortune, are wont to express towards those whom the lot of Arms declares their Masters. But the deportment of Lucius evidenced, that that Prince had a soul above his misfortune, since their could not be observed in him that ferocity which is sometimes affected in like occasions to show greatness of courage; nor that low yieldance, that is often made use of to draw the compassion of a Conqueror. But if the Prince of Celtiberia's acting in this sort, made it appear that he did not too much remember his defect, the civilities that Scipio returned him, showed sufficiently that he forgot his Victory. They parted therefore with very much esteem one for another, after the Illustrious Roman had told the generous Celtiberian he was free; but yet he desired him he would defer to make use of the liberty he gave him till the next morning. After which he retired; and as he was about to dispatch Flavius to Aemilius, and cause a kinsman of Flaminius to depart and advertise the Senate of all that had passed, he beheld five or six men enter into his Chamber, the first of which preceded two others which carried two magnificent shields, filled, as was soon perceived, with Gold and Jewels. He that was to present them advanced, and having made a low reverence, told Scipio, that the King of the Illergetes his Master, had sent him the ransom of the Princess his daughter, intending to levy forces in lieu of his own; and venture his life for the service of an Illustrious Victor who had so generously given him it.  
You shall tell the King your Master (answered Scipio) that I accept his friendship, but not his present; for since I have been able to restore him a treasure of inestimable value, he ought not to believe me capable to receive that which he now offers me. Ah! my Lord (cried the Illergete) what generosity is this? After which having mused a little, he suddenly added, My Lord, I must in brief declare to you, notwithstanding the concealed interest of my own in the matter, that all the world wishes you would marry the Princess Olinda, and that you would establish yourself King of Spain. I shall take your proposals into consideration (answered Scipio smiling) and in the mean time you may tell the fair Princess of the Illergetes, that if I have broken her Chains to day, 'tis possible I may fasten them to morrow with an indissoluble knot.  
After these words, the Illergete retired, Scipio dispatched those he intended to send to Rome, entertained discourse with Aemilius a while, and so went to his rest. The next morning he was no sooner in a condition to be seen by all persons without distinction, but the Kings of Celtiberia and the Illergetes, with the Queens their Wives, followed by Olinda, and causing more magnificent presents then those Scipio had returned to be brought with them, entered into his Chamber, and immediately protested they would refuse the liberty Scipio had given them, if he would not accept that which they came to offer him. Scipio answered, that he did not refuse the thing of greatast value that had been offered him, which was the amity of the two Kings. But, my Lord (said the Queen of the Illergetes to him) it is requisite, and that absolutely too, either that you receive the ransom which we offer you for Olinda, or that Olinda herself resume her fetters. To do yet more than you desire, Madam (answered Scipio smiling in an obliging manner) I will accept all that you offer me, and I will consent also that the Princess Olinda cease to be free. In ending which words, he whispered to an Officer, after he had desired the Queen's permission; and as he observed presently that she of Celtiberia appeared to be very sad, he comforted her, by informing her that the Prince Lucius was not dangerously wounded. You have seen him then, my Lord, (interrupted she presently with much satisfaction) and according to what you say, he is your prisoner. 'Tis true, I have seen him, Madam (replied he) but I do not agree with you as to the rest, and especially before the fair Princess of the Illergetes, with whom I should be much troubled to have any contest in usurping her rights.  
As he ended these words, Lucius entered, and his presence having filled the Kings and Queens with joy, and caused the modest Olinda to blush, also filled the spectators with contentment and admiration. But, Madam, it needs not that I should here detain you in particularising an action all the world has wondered at, even to the least circumstances. I shall content myself to tell you, that then it was that Scipio made the memorable marriage of Lucius and Olinda, that he gave that Princess all that he was constrained to accept a little before, that he wholly gained the hearts of the Spaniards, and filled all the earth with veneration of his virtue, as it was already filled with the fame of his Valour and his Victories. In fine, Madam, I have now spoken of an action that all the Nations extol, all Painters represents, and all excellent wits write of to consecrate to eternity, and make admired as long as virtue shall be known in the world. As Laelius was upon this part of his Narration, the Prince Magasba entered into the Chamber of the Princess his daughter, and told her with a kind of haste and severity, that she was to be reproved for not being at the Chamber of Aemilia, that that Illustrious Roman Lady had been in a condition to be seen above a quarter of an hour ago, and that for his own part, he had not failed to go to that of Scipio, and to yours also; My Lord (continued he, addressing to L●lius) where I had the unhappiness not to find you. Laelius made his remerciment with a low reverence, after which observing Magasba, went out to return again to Scipio (as he had told him) and that Palmira intended to go to the Chamber of Emilia, he gave her his hand, and to Nadalia also, and so they went all three thither, but it was with an air perfectly agreeable, and very different from that of the Prince of Capsa. But for that it was already late, Aemilia delayed not to descend down into a low Hall, whither Scipio, Magasba, Regulus and Cato likewise repaired, and were all there magnificently treated. The conversation that was made afterwards was extremely pleasing; and that which was most agreeable, was, that the modest Aemylia often showed a lovely mixture of Carnation in her countenance, when it came into her mind that Laelius had newly related her History. In the evening this Illustrious company went to walk in the Garden, where Magasba gave the hand to Aemylia, Scipio to Palmira, Regulus to Nadalia, and Laelius and Cato, went together, till insensibly Scipio, Aemilia, Magasba, and Palmira, were separated from the rest, and entered into a pleasant Arbour of Jasmine, Regulus and Nadalia rested themselves in a Banqueting-house, and Laelius and Cato continued walking together in a fair and spacious walk, that led to a gate of the Garden. But as Laelius was at that time in expectation of news from the Camp, and likewise from Carthage (for Terence who was there, was either to write to him, or to come and find him at Capsa to speak in favour of the Delegates of his City, to the end Scipio might receive them more graciously) he was suddenly surprised when he beheld three strangers enter into the Garden, whose faces were at first unknown to him. But advancing towards them, he soon perceived that two of them were young Romans of goodly personages, Rutilius and Albinus, whereof the first was Cousin to Aemilia, and had not long before obtained the command of a Legion; after which casting his eyes upon the third, he was agreeably surprised when he saw it was the famous Terence, whose wit was so celebrated in the world, and whose Verses were of a strain so facile and agreeable, that it was impossible not to be charmed by them. As soon as Laelius had caressed the three strangers with affectionate civilities, and suitable to their quality and merit, he led them to the Arbour where Aemilia was, who received them with an air extremely obliging, though expressing such tokens of affection to Rutilius, as Albinus and Terence could not reasonably expect. But when Scipio, Aemilia, Magasba, Palmira, Laelius, Cato, and the three strangers had passed all the Ceremonies usual in such occasions, the conversation became perfectly handsome; and that which rendered it more agreeable, was, a pleasant piece of Raillery between Laelius and Nadalia. For this lovely Virgin coming to rejoin with the company, Laelius advanced towards her, and presenting Terence to her without naming him: I do not content myself, fair Nadalia (said he to her) to be your friend; but I desire to make this stranger known to you, who will soon be likewise that in quality. You assure the matter very confidently (answered she). If persons of the same Country (interrupted he) have great inclinations to love and kindness, when they meet at distance from it, you ought not to wonder at what I say. How? (interrupted she again) is this stranger a Spaniard? Yes, Madam, I am so (answered Terence in the language of that Nation) and if Laelius do not deceive himself, my birth will be extremely advantageous to me. Ah, Laelius (cried she immediately) the accent of this stranger does little agree with your words. Nevertheless (answered Laelius smiling) if he be not a Spaniard, yet he is a rare wit, and consequently better deserves in this latter quality the friendship of Nadalia. Believe him not, Madam (answered Terence agreably) he deceives you a second time; but if my accent has already disabused you, my words shall soon free you from the second error. In speaking as you do (replied she) you manifest that he does not delude me; yet I will not pardon him the prank he has shown me in representing you to me for a Spaniard, unless he tells me who you are. That you shall not know (answered Laelius.) Upon which words Nadalia became so impatient, that addressing to Aemilia, and having observed in the countenances, she beheld little readiness to satisfy her; In the name of the Gods, Madam (said she to her) make me know who this stranger is; whose aspect is so sprightly, and who speaks in so pleasant a manner. I know not (answered the discreet Aemilia) whether you will not be as much surprised as I was, when you are told 'tis the famous Terence that you are discoursing with. Verily, Madam (replied Nadalia) I am extremely joyful to know so worthy a person, and to see that he is not at all disordered; the first time he enters into a great company where he is infinitely esteemed. I see not that he has cause to be so (answered Aemylia) since he is so esteemed as you say. But, Madam (replied Nadalia) be pleased to consider, there is nothing more troublesome then to go into a great assembly to make good a great reputation; for if such a person speaks sublimely he distastes many of the company; And if he speaks otherwise; without doubt he does not maintain the esteem that was conceived of him. And this is so true (added she smiling) that if I were fame, I would not excessively commend persons of wit in the places where they are to go.  
There is a greater unhappiness in that which you say (answered Terence pleasantly) which is, that when a man is once received for a wit, though he should afterwards speak the handsomest things in the world, and had the art even to please generally, yet he would not be esteemed the more, because it would be always believed that he speaks out of obligation, and that it is much easier for him to acquit himself more agreeably than they who have not the same design. That which I apprehend inconvenient to the persons we speak of (said the Princess of Hippo) is, that it seems they ought always to have a peculiar language, and 'tis no longer free for them to employ such terms as are ordinarily used. And that which I find most unjust (said Scipio) at least in reference to their works, is, that there are certain people, who pretending to learning and wit, speak of a handsome Comedy, or such like divertisement, with a contemning judgement, and look upon them as mere trifles, without considering that the most excellent morality, and the subtlest policy may be learned in them, after a pleasing manner, and far from the severity of Maxims.  
As Scipio ended these words he observed a happy opportunity offered to speak to Aemilia; upon which he turned towards her, to entertain her with that profound respect that never abandoned him in the presence of the fair person: For, advantageously for him, Magasba was discoursing for some time with Cato, and so left him liberty to speak to the person he loved, though rather out of difference then address. Palmira, Regulus, Rutilius, and Albinus, entertained themselves very agreeably, and the conversation of Nadalia, Laelius, and Terence was no question gallant and debonair. But when it grew late, the Illustrious company reunited their conversation; about which time Nadalia was desiring Terence to give her some Verses of his composing, and ask for them with something a loud voice; Cato, who was not far distant overheard her, and answering her with a cold and serious smile; It is requisite then (said he) that you give him some other thing, for in my apprehension there is nothing of more powerful inspiration to handsome Poetry, then that which I understand. You have so little experienced what you say you understand (answered Nadalia smiling) that methinks you are not a very fit person to whom to be referred in this case. 'Tis true indeed (said Scipio to Cato) that I cannot herein be of your opinion, though it be the same that most of the world follows: for I never could conceive it possible to express a violent passion well in measured words, and confine transports that will own no bounds to a limited of expression. Besides (added Nadalia) I never can endure those superfluous words (wherewith such kind of Verses are ordinarily filled, though I were capable of not hating those pieces of gallantry as I certainly do. Yet I have a way to cause you to receive the Verses we speak of (answered Terence smiling). But, Terence (interrupted Laelius) how dare you speak as you do, after what we have from the mouth of Nadalia. Do you not know (continued he) that that fair person would be as cruel a Mistress, as she is really a good friend; that she had rather see a Lover die, then understand his passion: And lastly, that there is nothing but the death of a poor slave that could warrant a discovery, without incensing her, that her fetters were worn. Assuredly Terence did not remember all these things (said Palmira smiling). Pardon me, Madam (answered he to her) 'twas because I did remember them, that I spoke after that manner that surprised Laelius. It would be a desirable pleasure then (replied she) to hear the way you speak of, for I presume it will be one of those pleasant turns of wit that you are accustomed to use. Sincerely, Madam (answered he, affecting to speak seriously) there will be neither mirth nor pleasantness in what I intent to make. What is it then you intent to make? (said Aemilia with a little smile). My own Epitaph, Madam (answered he with his affected seriousness) for since Nadalia says she would understand the passion of a dead man without being incensed, and that a dead man can speak only by his Epitaph, be pleased to judge, Madam, whether I have not reason to set upon the making of mine, and send it to her.  
All the company laughed at the agreeable conceit of Terence, and Nadalia having beheld him smiling also; Verily (said she to him) this conceit seems to me so tightly ingenious, that all the company will be glad you make what you speak of; and for my part, I shall be extremely pleased with it, for I confess to you such kind of fancies are perfectly correspondent to my humour. This conversation was upon a subject so agreeable, that it would have been continued longer if time had permitted: but for that it was already late, the Illustrious Company retired, and assoon as they came into the low Hall, which was handsomely beset with Lights, Laelius and Terence went apart by themselves to speak of important affairs, though after Nadalia had smilingly told the Carthaginian she would expect his Epitaph.  
Terence did not sup that night at the Palace of Magasba; because having a friend that was unwilling yet to show himself, he did not account it fit to leave him alone: Besides (added he smiling, in answer to those that desired to stay him) I do not conceive a Palace (where nothing but glorious and brave spectacles amaze the eyes, and where all thoughts are unsuitable but those of joy) a fit place to inspire me with Funeral Verses. But if the conversation of so worthy a person was wanting in this Illustrious company, the productions of his Wit were not; for they had no sooner disposed themselves to pass the evening with Divertisements, but a man who was presently known to be a Carthaginian entered, and after a low reverence delivered a Packet into the hands of Nadalia. Assoon as this amiable Lady had her eyes upon it, she perceived it was a rich Writing-Table, wherein she presently read these words which were written in a Character not unknown to her;  To a fair person, who will not understand the passion of a Lover but by his Death. 
Nadalia mused a little, and blushed at the reading of these words▪ after which having opened the Tablets, she found therein these Verses;  

How great a number in one rigid fate,  
Iris, do you involve,  
If only you resolve.  
A dead Adorer to commiserate;  
And will not own the Tropies of your eyes,  
Till Death hath made the World your sacrifice.   

Repeal, fair Iris, this severe decree▪  
Unless your sins you will not hide,  
But in your mischiefs take a pride:  
Then think but how untoward it would be  
A thing so grim, so rude as death should dar●  
To make a Court to one so young, so fair.   
All the company unanimously applauded the hand somness of this conceit, and condemned the sentiment of Nadalia, since in effect death has all the contrary qualities to those we see in the comely persons of Lovers: but as they were going to attaque that fair person, who was at that time not so debonair as usual, she gladly took occasion to avoid the onset, by opening the other Tablets which she received, the cover of which was plain black without superscription, and in which she read the following words,  
I expect your Epitaph. These, fair Nadalia, were the terrible words you spoke at my parting from you. I know well you have demanded nothing beyond your rights. I know you need only declare your pleasure to persons that know you as well as I do, and that I ought not to disobey you, even when you require my Epitaph. Nevertheless I presume to say you ought something to sweeten the matter, and might have shown less pleasantness in pronouncing these cruel words, and moreover that you ought not to demand my Epitaph with the same air that another Lady would have asked me for a Sonnet. 'Tis true, that being you had rather behold the death of a Lover then understand his passion, you are so often obliged to desire Epitaphs, that being accustomed thereto, you speak at present not only without reluctance, but even with your ordinary debonarity. But since a dead man may tell you the sentiments he has, without offending you, I believe one that sends you his Epitaph, aught to have the same liberty, and consequently I may declare to you that I am absolutely yours. But, fair Nadalia, I mean with all the respect that is due to you: for, as for any thing more, in truth I feel myself not yet dead enough to presume to speak it.  
The end of this Letter immediately appeared so pleasantly conceived, that all the company was agreeably surprised with it: and as they were going to speak concerning the wit that was resplendent in all the works of Terence, Nadalia read the following Verses;  

EPITAPH.  
Stay Cozened Reader, and forbear to cry,  
But rather envy my blessed destiny.  
It was Nadalia slew me; for her sake  
I passed with gladness o'er the Stygian Lake,  
That I might bear the news to shades below;  
'Twas to her eyes that I my Fate did owe.   

But after I had looked long in vain,  
'Mongst all the Ghosts that in Elysium reign,  
I found it true; that, nor the world above,  
Nor this had any, that deserved her love.  
Go, pray her then the favour we may have,  
At least to take repose within thy Grave.   
If the Letter of Terence was judged ingenious, his Verses did not seem less handsome; and as they observed the happiness of his infancy in them, and that both pieces were of the same Author, the opinions of this Illustrious company were divided, whilst some persons of wit commended the Epitaph that was now read, and others repeated with applause the handsomest passages of the Letter preceding it. But that which occasioned a little wonder, was, that Nadalia did not speak so much in this occasion as was expected: it was remembered that she appeared a little pensive before she opened the Tablets of Terence: and if some kind of pleasantness appeared in her countenance, it was easily observable not to resemble that sprightly jollity that was natural to her. Whereupon she was set upon by Laelius, who told her smilingly, he wondered she had lost her cheerfulness even before the apparition of Terence. Yet methinks (said Aemilia) she has very much left still. No doubt, Madam, (answered Regulus smiling) you apprehend so, only because she has very much wit. But for that she has also very many enemies (replied the Princess of Hippo) it is fit that she have also some friends. If she stood in need of friends after what you have said, Madam (answered Scipio) I should presently embrace her party. You do me too great a favour, my Lord (said Nadalia) but I have no necessity of so great a succour in this occasion, and I shall only desire a protection which two fair and Illustrious persons will without doubt not refuse me: since therefore (added he smiling) I need only my jolly humour to silence those that attaque me, and to manifest, that at least in this encounter I am able to surmount my enemies by laughing. But since laughter is a thing not voluntary (answered Regulus pleasantly) you cannot overcome us when you please; yet I need only to express my debonarity (replied she) to manifest my triumph. But you know well, fair Nadalia (said Laelius) that mirth ought to be spontaneously produced, and when it is enforced, it ceases to be agreeable, and our heart disowns it as a stranger: Moreover (added he smiling) the cheerfulness we speak of, methinks, seems constrained in the borrowed attire it is dressed with; and it is impossible it should please when it bespeaks observation and effects to be taken notice of.  
This conceit of Laelius gave the company occasion of pleasantness, and caused much divertisement in this evening's conversation, in which Rutilius & Albinus engaged themselves agreeably: and even the Prince of Capsa & Cato spoke some things of a strain not very ordinary with them; Magasba conceiving himself obliged to speak to the persons he entertained in such manner as might be most acceptable to them, and Cato judging it fit to remit a little of his severity, since he beheld nothing austere in the persons in whom he admired a noble prudence, and a sublime virtue. But when it was time for this Illustrious Company to separate, the two famous friends went to entertain themselves after a very different sort, since they went to speak of the charms of the divine Aemilia, which they never did, but after a manner in which might be seen a profound respect mixed with an exordinary admiration. Their conversation indeed did not endure long; for it being extremely late, Laelius referred the relating of the important affairs he had to inform me of, to the next morning, as also the giving him account of what he had lately understood concerning the Deputations of the Carthaginians. The amorous Scipio much uncapable to expect with moderation what was promised him, resented a sensible grief as soon as Laelius was gone out of his Chamber: for when the Idea of Aemylia presently filled whole extent of his imagination, he could not consider that that admirable Lady was the fairest person in the world, and the person in the world that he loved most, without afterwards repassing in his mind all the obstacles that had hindered him from being happy.  
This remembrance would without doubt have caused him to expire with grief, if he had not sweetened it by coming suddenly to think that his rivals were yet more unhappy than himself; and that besides, that their pretensions were not better favoured, they had not then the advantage of seeing Aemilia, of being lodged in the same Palace, and having Illustrious persons with her to promote the interest of their passions. From these thoughts he was capable to pass to that of conquering his enemies; for in this conjuncture he was able to bestow a part of his cares for the interest of Rome, without ceasing to think on the beauty of Aemilia, because his ambition was then a dependence of his love; so that it may be said, this Illustrious Lover in betaking himself to his bed, did less abandon himself to rest, then to the tyranny of those two violent passions.  
FINIS.