The glory of GOD'S REVENGE against the Bloody & detestable sins of MURDER and ADULTERY expressed in 30 Trag: Histories  
To which are apexed the Triumphs of Friendship & Chastity  
By Tho: Wright, M. A.  
Printed for Benja▪ Crayle in Fleet street   

THE GLORY OF God's Revenge AGAINST THE Bloody and Detestable SINS OF MURDER AND ADULTERY, Expressed in THIRTY Modern Tragical HISTORIES.  
To which are annexed, The TRIUMPHS of FRIENDSHIP and CHASTITY, In some Illustrious Examples.  
By THOMAS WRIGHT, M. A. Of St. Peter's College in Cambridge.  
LONDON: Printed by Tho. Moor, for Benjamin Crayle at the Lamb in Fleetstreet. MDCLXXXVI.   

TO THE Right Honourable and Noble Lady, FLOWER Countess of Clarendon.  
Madam,  
IT may seem an unpardonable rudeness, that to this Collection of Histories I should prefix so Venerable a Name: But tho' I may be judged guilty of a Presumption in this Dedication, yet the general Character of Your eminent Virtues (which gives as great a Lustre to Your Name, as Your Honourable Birth) does somewhat excuse and apologise for me, and I question not but Your transcendent Goodness and Clemency will prevail with You to patronise a Piece (tho' unpolished before your Ladyship's most discerning Judgement) which may prove instrumental towards the restraining those execrable Crimes which are so frequently committed in this exorbitant Age; and likewise as it publisheth some other Examples which may tend to the propagating those resplendent Graces of Friendship and Chastity, which may without Hyperbole or Flattery be said to be most Eminent in Yourself. The Author's Affairs having called him far distant, before the Press had finished the Book, frustrated his intention of dedicating it to Your Lad●ship himself: And therefore, as the Presentation of it was designed You from its Birth, so I am sure I have infinitely obliged the Author, by performing his desire, and I hope no ways contributed to Your Honour's Dissatisfaction.  
I am Your Honour's most Obliged and Humble Servant, Benjamin Crayle.   

To my Ingenious Friend, Mr. Thomas Wright, on his Excellent Histories.  
AFter the first Apostasy of Man,  
The rich Endowments of his Mind began  
To be depraved, and lost its Excellence  
By being conquered by the Lusts of Sense;  
Since which unhappy time (of Man's being frail)  
Examples more than Precepts do prevail;  
For Exhortations we do seldom find  
To leave such strong Impressions on the Mind.  
Then who can speak the Debt the World does owe  
To Thy ingenious Pen, that does bestow  
An Antidote to Vice from others Woe,  
And from th'Examples of the chaste and Kind,  
Fix brigh● Embellishments upon the Mind?  
Thy Histories, by Chemistry Divine,  
Do the depraved Faculties refine,  
And make them in their pristine Lustre shine.  
This Mirror to the Vicious does present  
Their Picture so deformed, they will repent;  
And to the Good such charming Graces show,  
As they till then could not so fully know:  
Such— as will make them to improve, and be  
Like patterns of Heroic Piety.  
Thou ha●t disclosed here a Golden Mine,  
And hast with Eloquence enriched each Line.  
So sweet's thy Style, so manly is thy Sense,  
It justly may be called an Excellence.  
Thy Wit and Skill may former Artists blame,  
And Reynolds Murders now we must not name.  
As sable Darkness, which attends the Night,  
To the Days Sunbeams is the opposite,  
So Vice from Virtue, Wrong from Right's the same;  
Then how canst thou write wrong, when WRIGHT's thy Name?  
London, M●y 29. 1685. I. C.   

To the Ingenious Author, Mr. Thomas Wright.  
SInce the too bold aspiring Angel fell  
(By his Ambition and his Pride) to Hell,  
And since Rebellious man lost Paradise,  
The World is filled with various sorts of Vice;  
Murder & Lust Twin-Tyrants long have reigned,  
And a vast Empire through the World maintained;  
The Sword of Justice could not stop their rage,  
They've boldly tyrannised in every Age,  
Nor could Divines their furious heat assuage  
Yet doubtless, Friend, th'examples you have given,  
May give them prospect of revenging Heaven;  
Your Pen with Eloquence Divine inspired,  
Will cool the Soul with Lust and Murder fired,  
Tame all the Passions, regulate the Will,  
And stop that rage that guiltless Blood would spill.  
Thy Pen doth here such Oratory give,  
As teacheth Us by others Death to live;  
And from a Life of Chastity and Love,  
A great advantage to ourselves improve.  
Thy Book so much my Praises do outrun,  
I do but light a Candle to the Sun.  
I. Whitehall.   

THE Introduction.  
PLATO, a Heathen, thought Virtue so amiable in itself, that could it appear clad in Humane shape, the excellency of its features would attract the love and admiration of all its spectators: and shall We, who are Christians, be less in love with the Beauty of Holiness? Shall We, who live under the Meridian Illustrations of Divine Wisdom, not see those glorious Truths, which by the glimmering light of Nature He so much revered? O shame on that Egyptian darkness which clouds our Reason! O shame on that Infidelity that poisons our Souls! He lived a Divine Heathen, while we live and die professed Christians, but in Practice more wretched and inexcusable than Pagan's; witness the Avarice and Rapine of some, the Malice and Ambition of others; in a word, to name no more, the frequent Murders of the Street, and the more close Adulteries of the Chamber; the bloody Revenge of the enraged Bravo, and the wanton Embraces of the lustful Paramour. Of these two last, viz. of Murder and Adultery, I shall more particularly treat, which as they are sins of the first Magnitude, so hath their punishment been the most dreadful, and their Gild always prosecuted with the most fatal consequence of Divine Vengeance, as the Reader may plainly see in the several following Histories; of which some are extracted out of that excellent Piece of Mr. Reynolds his Murders, and others altogether New, all reduced into so small a bulk, that they may be neither cumbersome nor tedious to the Reader. Examples of these Crimes, as most heinous in their own nature, (the first destroying Man, God's Image, and the second defiling him) I have the rather pitched upon, for that they are the spreading Cancers of the Age, which have not only infected the Southern and warmer parts of the World, but spread their contagion under the Arctic Pole, in Climates bound up in Ice, and Lands covered with Snow. Murder, 'tis true, got the start of Adultery, and was the firstborn of its wretched Parent Cain; but since, like kind Companions, they have lovingly associated together, and rarely do we meet Adultery in the Van, but we find Murder in the Rear, which have now usurped so large an Empire, that the Rigours of the Frost do not i'll their heats, nor stop their growth: the cold Rusts, Finns, and Tartars, are as well guilty, as the hot Moors, Blacks, and Aethiopians; the phlegmatic Dutchman, or heavy Germane, as the lustful Spaniard, or Sodomitical Italian.  
Murder has been always looked upon as a most detestable sin in the sight of God and Man, and punished as a Capital Offence; nor is Adultery to be less abhorred. The Commands of God, the Laws of the Jews, and other Nations at this day, inflict death on the miserable Criminal; however it has obtained more favour amongst the debauched Sparks of our Age, who esteem it but a slight Peccadillo, a piece of Gallantry, and account it rather the Glory than the Shame of their youthful heat, and vigorous Extravagance: But let such know, that God has promised by a severe threat, That he will judge the Whoremonger and Adulterer; nor will they find the punishment so light as they imagine. This it was that brought a Deluge upon the old World, and this it is which hath since overturned Kingdoms, and laid waste the most flourishing States. And as there is no Place, nor hath been any Age, free from notorious Examples of this Crime, so also are there no degrees of Persons exempted from the commission of it: Princes of the highest Dignity being as well guilty, as those of more inferior Rank and Quality: But let such know, that they shall both taste the bitterness of punishment; for God will as soon fling his Thunderbolt on the one as the other; the Prince's Purple shall no more excuse him, than the poor man's Rags can defend him.  
If our Body is the Temple of God, let us then keep it undefiled, and not make it a Sanctuary for Murders and Adulteries; for that Holy Spirit will not endure the impurity of our thoughts, much less our polluted actions; our hands must not only be free from the stain of Blood, but our hearts from the guilt and the very desire of Revenge.  
Incontinency is one of the Devil's Light-Horse, with which he at first skirmishes, till he can draw us into those Ambuscades of more dangerous Enemies he has laid to entrap us, and then charges us with his desperate Train of Adulteries and Murders, and the whole body of succeeding Villainies. In Adultery he baits his Hook with the honey and sweets of the temptation, paints the hidden Thorns, and sticks them with Flowers; guilds the Chains, and studs them with Diamonds; makes every curling Tress (the Witchcraft of the Fair) of the most soft and shining Silk, which he ties up in True-Love-knots for garniture: but when once we have swallowed the deceitful Potion, we quickly lose the relish of those mistaken sweets, and find that bitterness and sorrow were the chief Ingredients in the fatal Composition, and a speedy Repentance our best and only Antidote.  
I could here enlarge upon the various Punishments inflicted by different Nations, according to the rigorous or more merciful inclination of their temper, on the horrid sin of Adultery; but then I should transgress the modest bounds I intended to this Discourse. I shall therefore leave the Reader to the following Histories, in which I hope he will receive both delight and satisfaction; and conclude with the Remark of a witty and observing Traveller: The Italian (says he) poisons the Adulterous Wife, the Spaniard stabs her, the Germane beats her, the French - man puts her away, and the English - man won't believe it.   

THE GLORY OF God's Revenge Against the Bloody and Execrable Sin of MURDER.  

HIST. I. Grand Pre and Mermanda.  
The proud Hautefelia hires Le Fresnay an Apothecary for 200 Crowns to Poison her Sister in Law Mermanda, then sets her Husband De Mallery at variance with her Brother Grand Pre, who kills De Mallery in a Duel; She afterwards gives Le Fresnay 300 Crowns more to Poison Grand Pre which he does, and being Condemned for a Rape Confesses the two Murders, and accuses Hautefelia, who is apprehended, and both suffer the severity of the Law.  
HAD the Precepts of God or the Laws of Man been able to restrain the Extravagance of our debauched Natures within the limits of our Duty, we should have had not only no Occasion, but no Examples of such wicked Wretches, whose Lust, Ambition, or Revenge▪ has made them the unhappy Arguments of humane Misery. Their vicious Courses have plunged them into Crimes which could not be expiated here, but by the severest punishments, both which the Faithful Historian has transmitted to us, that by the Obliquity of their lives, we may be persuaded to amend our own, since we see that Sin always proves fatal to the Offender, and an Ignominious Death is the certain consequence of a Corrupt and Vicious Life. If perfect Innocence was the beauty of our Creation and that happy Dowry which God Almighty gave, when at his Command the Soul and Body first espoused each other, which the more Wily Serpent stole from us; Oh let us not be again Cheated by the same Deceiver, and sell our Integrity for the guilded Shows of Sin and Misery, exchange our Glory for Shame, and to satisfy one burning Lust, endure the Torment of Everlasting Flames.  
The following Histories are all Tragical, and the parts of the chiefest Actors writ in Characters of Blood; which are not so much designed to divert the Reader with the Variety of surprising Circumstances, as to affright him by the sad Examples from the Commission of that horrid Sin of Murder, of which sincerely to repent, is highly difficult, but to make Satisfaction for Impossible. When once the Golden Bowl is broke (which the wise man speaks of, Ecclesiastes the 12 th'.) by the Impious hand of some bold Assassin, he fills full the Cup of God's Indignation against him, which will be a draught more bitter than all the glozing pleasures Life or Fortune can sweeten with their greatest advantages. Humane Laws have provided Shackles and Dungeons, Racks and Gibbets, not only to punish, but deter such sanguinary Bravoes, who, if they chance (which but rarely happens) to escape the latest hand of Justice, yet are they constantly haunted with the horror of the Crime, and antedate the Torments of a future, by the present Hell of an evil Conscience.  
But I proceed to the History which is thus.  
Near Auxone, upon the Frontiers of Burgduny, dwelled an Ancient Gentleman nobly descended, whose name was Monsieur De Grandmont, his virtuous Lady was Madamoyselle De Carny, this happy pair were blessed with a plentiful Offspring and a fair Estate to support the Honour and Grandeur of the Family. They had three Sons and two Daughters, of which Grand Pre (who was the first and chiefest Pillar of the House) applied himself wholly to Arms, and obtained leave to serve his Apprenticeship in the Wars under the Command of that Incomperable Captain Grave Maurice, than Earl of Nassaw, and since Prince of Orange. Vileneufe who altogether delighted in Books was sent to Pont au Mousson, and Masseron was for his Beauty begged a Page by that great Marshal of France who unfortunately lost his Head in the Bastile of Paris▪ Hautefelia the Eldest of the two Daughters lived at home with her Parents, and de Cressy the youngest had the honour to attend a great Lady of Burgundy, where she received all the advantages of a Noble and Virtuous Education. But see here how soon the Pleasure of Heaven can overthrow our most Established fortunes, and sink all our present Joys and Ripening hopes into the bottom of Despair. Within the Compass of a Year Vileneufe was Drowned as he bathed himself in the River at Pont au Mousson, Masseron was killed in a Duel at Fontainbleau by Rossat Page to the Duke of Espernon, and Hautefelia died at home of a Fever. Grandmont and de Carnye being thus made unfortunate by the death of three of their Children, resolved to call home the other two, which were now the only Comforts and Props of their declining Age. First from the Baroness of Lux came the Cressy who Succeeded her Sister and we shall now term by the name and title of Hautefelia; After her very shortly came Grand Pre from Holland, where he left many Honourable marks of his Courage and Bravery. Upon his arrival, the Flower of all the Nobility and Gentry came to Condole with him for the Death of his Brothers and Sister, and Congratulate his happy return, whom they all admire as a most complete Gentleman in whose mien shone all the Graces and Accomplishments of a brave and generous Cavalier. Grandmont observing the Martial disposition of his Son, and fearing least the thirst of honour would again Transport him to the Wars, and that his towering Spirit would not long endure the lazy retirement of the Country, resolves to try if the softer Charms of Love and Beauty could not assail that Breast which seemed wholly devoted to the God of War; For which end he proffers Grand Pray the Choice of several young Ladies and Gentlewomen for his Wife, of the richest and most Ancient families near Auxone; But Grand Pre appeared wholly averse to all proposals of this Nature, and thought it a high Blemish and disparagement to his Valour, to be made a slave and Captive to any Beauteous she, who knew no way to conquer but by smiles and the weak Artillery of her Eyes. Grandmont perceiving this design would not take effect, resolves to leave the Country and reside at Dijon (formerly the ancient Seat of the Dukes of Burgundy, and now famous for the Present Court of Parliament) where he hoped amongst the great confluence of Ladies and Gentlewomen, Grand Pre might at last Espye that Paragon of nature whose Excellencyes would subdue his stubborn heart, and Captivate his affections, which accordingly answered his Expectation.  
On a Sunday Morning in Lent, Grand Pre went to the Royal Chapel to hear Father justinian Preach, and over against him saw a most delicate and beautiful young Lady, infinitely rich in apparel, but far more glorious in the perfections and Excellencyes of her mind; in a word being not used to encounter with such Beauties, he was ravished with the Sweetness of her Angelic form, and she alone the Subject of his present Devotion and future Contemplation. Nor was Grand Pre less observed by the Lady, who seeing him a proper young Gallant well attended, would sometimes feast her Eyes with a Stolen glance, which presently her modesty and discretion would check her for, and paint her Cheeks with those graceful blushes, that Grand Pre was forced to do homage to her Beauty and ask pardon of that God of Love against whose power and dignity he had so long offended.  
Sermon being ended, Grand Pre took a turn or two in the Church, and ordered his Page to make private enquiry who the Lady was; he speedily informed him that she is Madamoyselle Mermanda, eldest Daughter to Monsieur de Cressonville, one of the chiefest Precedents of the Court of Parliament. Grand Pre was extremely pleased in knowing who she was, and the more, in that it was no disparagement to his Quality or Family to marry with her. Wherefore, bidding farewell to all the bloody conflicts of the Camp, he resolves his future Engagements into amorous Encounters, which often prove no less fatal and dangerous: and accordingly, the next day, with two intimate Acquaintance, under pretence of other business, made a visit to Monsieur de Cressonville; who being abroad, his two Friends entertained the Mother, whilst he made his addresses to the young Lady, whose conversation was so obliging and agreeable, that he now owned no other happiness but what centred in the sole enjoyment of the beloved Mermanda. Grand Pre having received so respectful entertainment in his first visit, resolved to acquaint the old Precedent with his affection to his Daughter, which he did, and having thus begun his Suit, left his Father Grandmont to finish it, whilst he paid his daily Orisons to his beautiful Mistress.  
Monsieur de Cressonville approved the Match; and knowing that Grandmont had likewise one only Daughter, and himself one only Son, desired it might be double, thereby to contract a more firm and stricter League between their two Houses; which, after some debates and conferences, was resolved upon. I do here on purpose omit the several Letters of Courtship between Grand Pre and Mermanda, and from de Malleray (Cressonville's Son) to Hautefelia, both because they would swell this brief History beyond its intended bounds, and expressed nothing more of moment, than the common Raptures of endearing Lovers in their first Addresses. These Marriages, to the joy of the Parents, and the great content of their Children, were pompously solemnised in Dijon, and the Interest and Honour of both Families (in the eyes of all) fixed on the firm foundations of a lasting felicity. But, oh the strange and sudden revolutions of all worldly happiness! Our best fortune is chequered, & our greatest joys seem only given us to usher in more dreadful sorrows. Some few months had passed, in which the Lovers reaped the full Harvest of their short-lived Pleasures, when Hautefelia, whose temper was imperious and revengeful, began to envy the advancement of her Sister-in-law Mermanda, and contemn her own: Her haughty humour could by no means submit to give place to her after marriage, who was her inferior before. Mermanda, who was of a most gracious and mild nature, lived happy in the affections of Grand Pre: their virtuous behaviour, and loving respects to each other, was highly praised and applauded by all, but the sullen and envious Hautifelia. Mischief and revenge had now wholly engaged her thoughts, when she resolved to change the Scene; and make Mermanda as miserable in her Husband's Jealousy, as formerly she had been happy in his Love; and considering how to accomplish her black designs under the fairest pretences, she remembered that the Baron of Betanford frequently visited Grand Pre and Mermanda, upon which she might with easy arguments lay the surest foundations of jealousy and revenge. In pursuit hereof, the next day she sent a private Letter to Grand Pre by her Page, entreating him to come immediately over to her, to consult upon a point in which his Honour and future happiness were equally concerned: He accordingly came, and supper being ended, de Malleray (after some discourse) complemented him to his Chamber, and took his leave; when Hautefelia coming up with tears in her eyes, acquainted him, That (to her great sorrow) she was assured that the Baron of Betanford, without respect to the sacred rules of Honour, Friendship, and Hospitality, had too frequently abused him, in his familiarity with Mermanda. Grand Pre, fired with this discourse, resolves a revenge upon both, without considering the truth of circumstances, (so far does Jealousy infatuate!) that the next day riding home in the evening, he desired Mermanda to walk into the Garden, where in express terms he charged her with disloyalty to him, and dishonesty with the Baron: all which with floods of tears she utterly denied, and so far prevailed upon him, that he declared himself satisfied with those assurances of her fidelity, and was perfectly reconciled. Mermanda fearing that if the Baron should still continue his visits as formerly, they might awaken the sleeping Jealousy of her Husband, and to take off all grounds of a future suspicion, writ this following Letter to him.  
Mermanda, to the Baron of Betanford.  
My Lord,  
IT is not with blushes, but tears, that I presume to write unto you; nor can any thing more deeply affect me, than that I am now forced to publish my Husband's Folly, to vindicate my own Innocence. I must confess his ingratitude to you, and wrong to me, whilst his jealous humour charges us with those clandestine Crimes which both your Honour and my Virtue abhor to think of: And that we may both endeavour rather to quench than inflame this irregular passion, I beseech you to refrain our house, and neither to visit me, nor be familiar with him, and I hope time will conquer all those evil thoughts, which truth and reason must always condemn. Your Virtue and Generosity assure me of this favour, which I will repay with thanks, and requite with prayers, that your Days may be as infinite as your Perfections, and your Fame as glorious as your Merits.  
Mermanda.  
Upon the receipt of this Letter, the Baron was highly incensed against Grand Pre, for entertaining such unjust and dishonourable thoughts of him: But to remove all jealousies, he immediately left his house, and took Coach for Paris. Grand Pre understanding the Barons sudden departure, grew more suspicious, imagining it to be a plot between him and his Wife; which so enraged him, that he refused her bed, and resolved that a quick and severe revenge upon them both should only atone for those injuries he had received. Accordingly the next day, under pretence of other business, with a Page and two Lackeys, he went to Briecount Robert, and retiring to a private Inn, writ this Challenge, which he sent by his Page, with directions to deliver it secretly to the Baron, and bring him his speedy Answer.  
Grand Pre, to the Baron, etc.  
COuld I have dissembled my malice, as you have done your friendship; you might have expected my revenge had been as private as the injury you did me. You need no other witness to inform you of my dishonour, than your own false self, who have wronged me; which is a Crime of so high a nature, that your blood can only expiate the offence. I expect this honourable satisfaction from you on Thursday at Carency, where I will meet you at five in the morning, with Sword or Rapier, on horseback or afoot. The bearer hereof shall attend to conduct you to a fair Meadow, where without Seconds I expect you, when your life or mine shall end the difference.  
Grand Pre.  
The Baron having received this Letter, caused the Page to dine with him, and after dinner sent him away with this answer; Tell thy Master, that I will not fail to meet him on horseback, without a Second, at the hour and place appointed. On Thursday morning they met accordingly, having only their Surgeons with them, and after a sharp and resolute fight on horseback, and the exchange of several wounds, Grand Pre received a desperate thrust in the belly, upon which he fell from his Horse, and Betanford remained Victor, who like a Noble Cavalier assisted him to a neighbouring Village, where his Surgeons took care of his wounds. The next morning, having something recovered his senses, the Baron satisfied him of the odiousness of the scandal raised against his own Honour, and Mermanda's Virtue. These solemn protestations prevailed upon Grand Pre, who now repented his groundless Jealousy, promised to renew his love to his Wife, and live and die his honourable Friend. Some few days after they took leave of one another, and Grand Pre returning home, related to his Wife the occasion and event of the Combat, begged her pardon for his jealous and credulous humour, and promised for the future that nothing should ever divide his heart from his virtuous and faithful Mermanda. Thus were all discontents buried in Oblivion, and their kind endearments sealed a perfect reconciliation.  
But now must I return to Hautefelia, who seeing her wicked design thus disappointed, resolved rather to sell her Soul to the Devil, than not purchase her revenge on Mermanda; and accordingly struck a bargain with le Fresnay an Apothecary, for the reward of 200 Crowns to poison her, which he promised, and effected in less than two months' time.  
Hautefelia, who had been thus successful in her first Villainy, instantly begins to teem with a second; and as she hated Mermanda the Sister, so did she never love de Mallery the Brother, though her own Husband, and therefore resolves by a safe and speedy death to dispatch him to another world. To this end she set de Mallery at variance with Grand Pre, by telling him, that her Brother had been jealous of Mermanda, called her the Baron of Betanford's Strumpet, upon which they fought; and that since by her sudden death it was shrewdly suspected he had poisoned her.  
De Mallery, infinitely grieved at this News, acquaints his Father de Cressonville therewith, expecting that by order of Law he would question him for it; but de Cressonville thought it more prudence to forgive those injuries, than publish his Daughter's Infamy by an unseasonable and uncertain Vindication. But de Mallery's fiery temper could not admit those sober considerations, but hastily resolves a revenge for his Sister's death, and understanding that Grand Pre was lately come to Dijon, sent him by a Confident of his own this following Challenge.  
De Mallery, to Grand Pre.  
I Should think myself of base blood than the Honour of my Family entitles me to, should I suffer those wrongs and injuries you have offered your Wife and my Sister to go unpunished. I know not whether her Innocence deserves more pity, or your jealousy contempt and revenge: Her unspotted Virtue, which you have so unworthily questioned, and sudden death, you have not yet accounted for, command me to a juster Challenge than that you sent the Baron of Betanford: The equity of my cause, and the unjustness of yours, makes me confident, that as you lost your blood at Briecount Robert, you shall leave your life in sight of Dijon. To morrow at five in the evening, by the row of Walnut-Trees, near the foot of Talon-Fort, I shall wait your coming, with single Rapier, or Rapier and Poniard, without Seconds. I long to try the Courage of your Heart, and the Temper of your Sword, which can only satisfy the injured  
de Mallery.  
The next evening Grand Pre met him, and making choice of single Rapier, they stripped, and without further ceremony fell to it, commanding their Surgeons to withdraw into the next Field till the death of one of them proclaimed the other Victor. After the third breathing, de Mallery received a mortal wound under the left Pap, upon which he instantly dropped down dead, without speaking a word. Grand Pre mounted his Horse, and fled to Dole, a Parliament free City, where he stayed till he had obtained his pardon, which at last he gained, notwithstanding all the opposition de Cressonville and his Friends could make to prevent it.  
Hautefelia hearing of her Husband's death, (which was welcome News to her) presently packed up her Jewels and other Goods of value, and went home to her Father at Auxone, where with an imperious hand, and more wicked heart, she controlled at pleasure, till the return of her Brother, who in this time had discovered her malice to Mermanda and himself, and that she had been the only cause of his fight with the Baron of Betanford, and killing de Mallery; all which created in him so great aversion and hatred to her, that he either wholly declined her company, or treated her with the most public arguments of scorn and indignation. Hautefelia was now as resolved in her revenge against him, as she was formerly against Mermanda and de Mallery, and accordingly made a new contract with le Fresnay for 300 Crowns more to poison him, which within a short time after he effected. She now domineered at will, without the least sense of her Crimes, or dread of that Vengeance which so closely pursued her. Scarce was Grand Pre laid in his Grave, and his Funeral solemnised, but le Fresnay revelling at a Tavern in Dijon, where every drop of Wine he drank was the price of innocent blood, growing now wanton in his Cups, commits a Rape upon Margaret Pivot, a Girl of twelve years old, and Daughter to the Master of the house, upon which he was apprehended; but denying the fact, was put to the Rack, and at the second torment confessed it, upon which he was condemned to be hanged. Two Friars who were sent to prepare him for his death, by their pious exhortations so wrought upon his conscience, that he confessed to them, That at the instigation of Hautefelia he had poisoned Mermanda and her Husband Grand Pre, and received 500 Crowns for a Reward. Upon this Confession his first Sentence was altered, and for these bloody Villainies he was condemned to be broken alive on the Wheel, and there to languish till he died; which was executed accordingly.  
A Provost was immediately dispatched to apprehend Hautefelia, who found her at her Father's house, dancing in the Garden with several Gentlemen and Ladies, who seized her, and carried her before a Precedent and two Councillors appointed to examine her. At first she impudently denied all, and said that le Fresnay had basely belied her Innocence; upon which being adjudged to the Rack, at the first torment she confessed all, whereupon the Criminal Judges pronounced sentence upon her, That she should be carried to the place of Execution, have her Breasts seared and torn off with red-hot Pincers, be afterwards hanged, her Body burnt, and the ashes thrown into the Air, which was accordingly executed.  Thus we see by the sad example of Hautefelia, that they who sow wickedness shall reap misery, and he that sheds his Brother's blood, stains his own Soul, which nothing can wash away, but that Fountain of living Waters which cleanseth from all unrighteousness. The judgements of Heaven may seem to follow the impenitent sinner with Leaden Feet, yet they strike at last with Hands of Iron.  

HIST. II. Pisani and Christineta.  
Pisani robs Gasparino of the affections of his Mistress Christineta. Gasparino challenges him for the injury, and kills him in the field. He afterwards renews his Suit to Christineta, who dissembling her revenge, by the assistance of two Bravoes, Bianco and Brindoli, murder him in a Garden, and are all three taken and executed.  
IN the City of Pavia in the Dukedom of Milan lived Signior Thomaso Vituri, a Noble Gentleman, who had one only Daughter called Christineta, a Lady no less eminent in all perfections of the Mind, than glorious in the outward excellencies of an admired Beauty. Amongst other Gentlemen who made their Courtship to this Lady, Signior Emanuel Gasparino of Cremona was one; who acquainting his intimate Friend Signior Pisani with his resolutions, he entreated his company to Pavia, and his friendly assistance in this great affair. Being arrived at Pavia, they were respectfully entertained by Vituri, to whom Gasparino motioned his Suit to marry Christineta, which he courteously received, and like a prudent Father desired some time to advise upon it. During this interval Gasparino found Christineta very cool in her affections towards him, whilst he doted on her Beauty, and endeavoured by all those courtly entertainments, which often please the fairer Sex, to gain her love: But still finding her averse, and not knowing what further to offer, he resolves to make use of the intercession of his friend Pisani to mediate for him, who readily accepted of it, and promised to discharge himself in this trust with all diligence and fidelity. Pisani presently after finding an opportunity, addressed himself to Christineta in behalf of his Friend; with all the Charms of Wit and Eloquence that the most endearing Lover could express his Passion in. Christineta seemed strangely perplexed at his discourse, which he carelessly observing, begged she would please to make him for once happy in a pleasing answer to his Friend and her Servant Gasparino. After a serious pause, and deep sigh, she told him she must needs confess the character he had given his Friend was both honourable and true, but she had already fixed her affection upon another person, who at least in her own esteem was more deserving. Pisani earnestly pressed her to nominate the Gentleman so happy in her love, which she denied, but promised if he would meet her next day at eight in the morning in the Nun's Garden at St. Clare, she would acquaint him both with his name and person; which he readily agreed to, and took his leave. When finding out his friend Gasparino, he related to him the truth of the former passages, but concealed the intended meeting; whereupon Gasparino despairing of success in this amour, civilly took his leave, and returned to Cremona.  
The appointed hour being come, Christineta, with her Prayer-book in her hand, went to the Nunnery, and so to the Garden, where having taken a turn, Pisani entered, and having saluted her with the common Compliments of the day, told her he was now come to wait the performance of her promise: Sir, (says she, with blushes in her cheeks) the person I love much resembles yourself, (pray interpret my words with honour) and be 〈…〉 Christineta to solicit for herself the beloved Pisani, but never henceforward let Pisani mediate for the hated Gasparino.  
Pisani strangely surprised at this answer, and considering that to reject the Lady's Love was discourteous, but to betray his Friend base and dishonourable; after a little stop thus replied, As I must needs own the greatness of my obligation to you, without any merit of mine; so I must humbly beg your excuse, in that I cannot be your Servant, but I must be a Traitor to Friendship, justice and Honour. Upon which he abruptly took his leave, and the next day returned to Cremona.  
Christineta not able to conquer her Passion, within ten days sent this Letter after him.  
Christineta, to Pisani.  
THink it not strange, that I second my last Speech with this my first Letter; for were not my affections to you as sincere as they are constant, I should never thus have trespassed upon the modesty of our Sex: But where the flames are so ardent, and the passion so generous as mine, I hope the truth of my Love will atone for my confidence in the pursuit of it. I must confess it is impossible for Christineta to love any but Pisani, whom I no sooner saw, but I deeply admired, and dearly affected. Now, since my Zeal to you is begun in Virtue, and shall be continued in Honour, it makes me flatter myself with the hopes you will not force me to despair. Thus can I fix bounds to my Letter, though not to my Affection.  
Christineta.  
The receipt of this Letter at first a little startled the noble resolutions of Pisani; but upon second thoughts, Affection was forced to give place to Honour, as appears by his Answer.  
Pisani, to Christineta.  
I Can't tell whether you discover more Affection to me in your Letter, or I should Treachery to accept or requite it. But I will not fear to say, that Pisani loves Christineta because she deserves it, did not my friendship to Gasparino forbid it; for though your Beauty commands the One, yet Honesty denies the Other. Could time reconcile these difficulties, I could fly swift to the Embraces of Christineta, whose affection▪ I profess to esteem next to my friendship with Gasparino.  
Pisani.  
Though this Letter seemed to flatter, yet fear quickly blasted those blooming hopes; wherefore once more she resolved to let him know the violence of her Passion, which she did fifteen days after in these following words:  
Christineta, to Pisani.  
I May pass the bounds of discretion, but will not exceed those of Honour, though I have learned this Maxim, That the affection which receives end, had never beginning. If then I live, I must breathe the air of your Love, as well as this of my Life, since it is the sole cause thereof. Could you dive as deep into my Heart, as I have into your Merits, if Nature does not, Pity would inform you, that you ought to prefer the Love of a Lady before the Respect of a Gentleman, since he may carry his heart from you, and I desire to present mine to you. I write rather with Tears than Ink; and if you will not live my Saint, I must die your Martyr.  
Christineta.  
Having received this Letter, he was quite conquered, and now thought no more of Gasparino, or the fidelity of his friendship towards him, but cast off all respects to him, and paid his sole homage to this sovereign Lady of his affections, which he expressed in this Letter, which he presently dispatched away by his Page.  
Pisani, to Christineta.  
YOur Virtue and Beauty might alone prevail with me, but your Affection makes me absolutely forget my respects to Gasparino, to remember my love to Christineta; and that which gives life to my resolution is, that it's impossible for him to hate me as much as you love me; and in this hope I both rejoice and triumph, that you shall not be my Martyr, but my Mistress, and I will be both your Saint, and your Servant: For as you desire to live in my Favour, so my greatest ambition is to die in your Affection. I will shortly follow and second this my Letter; till than you can never so much lament my absence as I desire your presence.  
Pisani.  
So great are her transports of joy at the receipt hereof, that my best expressions would appear but faint shadows to those lively colours. In few days Pisani having now quite forgot his old friend Gasparino, winged with desires began his journey to his new Mistress Christineta.  
Such were the mutual embraces and kind caresses of this welcome interview, as longing Lovers would express their greatest endearments in; when Pisani being thus assured of the Daughter's love, honourably (yet secretly) endeavoured to win the Parent's consent, which he found a task of greater difficulty; for Vituri, displeased therewith, forbid Pisani his house, and Christineta his company. This vexed the Lovers to the heart, and nipped their hopes in the bud: however, they continued their affections with constancy, and Pisani for the present retired home, considering how to effect his desires; and at last concluded, that if Christineta could gain her Mother's good will, she might in time procure her Husband's approbation. To this purpose he wrote to her, which she put into execution, and in few days got the one, and in less than a month obtained the other, who had now fixed the day of Marriage, and revived the dying hopes of the despairing Lovers.  
Come we now to speak of Gasparino, who notwithstanding the secret management of this affair, had notice of it; and considering the nature of Pisani's treachery, was extremely incensed at him, and vowed a sudden and sharp revenge. His judgement being thus overwhelmed with passion, he thought not only himself, but his whole Family dishonoured in this affront; and understanding Pisani was in Pavia, taking a resolute Gentleman along with him, and his Lackey, he road over to him, and concealing himself in his Inn till the next morning, he sent this Challenge to him by his confident Friend Sebastiano, who delivered it accordingly.  
Gasparino, to Pisani.  
YOU who have made the first breach in our friendship, by treacherously robbing me of my Mistress, must now both in Honour and justice take my life too, or give me yours in requital. If you think me severe, you may tax your own Ingratitude, but cannot condemn my resolution. I shall expect you at the west-end of the Park by four or five after dinner on foot with Seconds: the Weapons, if you please, two single Rapiers, of which I will give you the choice, and be content with the refusal. If your Courage answer your Infidelity, you will dare to meet  
Gasparino.  
Pisani having read the Letter, returned this answer; Pray tell Gasparino from me, that I will meet him with my Second at the hour and place appointed. Sebastiano being returned, Pisani found out a Gentleman of his acquaintance called Sfondrato, (to whom he related the whole business) who readily engaged himself. The hour being now come, (and the matter carried secretly, that Christineta might not hear of it) they post away to the Park, where they found Gasparino and Sebastiano, when alighting from their Horses, they threw off their Doublets, and drew their Swords.  
No less doubtful than bloody was the engagement between Gasparino and Pisani, when at the third encounter Gasparino run Pisani through the heart, at which he fell stark dead to the ground. Sebastiano running to congratulate Gasparino for his Victory, Sfondrato called to him to prepare himself, which he did, and so with various fortune they fought, till providence resolving to make both parties equal losers, after they had breathed three several times, Sfondrato run his enemy Sebastiano through the small of the belly, and so nailed him to the ground, bearing away his life on the point of his Rapier; which done, their wounds were dressed; Gasparino fled to Parma, and Sfondrato to Florence. Christineta at the News hereof was infinitely grieved, tore her hair in fury, and swore by all the Powers above, the death of her beloved Pisani should be revenged as deep as it was now lamented.  
Some time after Gasparino having obtained his Pardon, returns home, from whence he began presently to renew his love to Christineta, first by Letters, then by his Friends, and at last in person. She dissembling her malice, thought this a fit opportunity to be revenged on him for the death of Pisani; and finding him very earnest in his Suit, appoints to meet him in the Nun's Garden at six next morning. No sooner was Gasparino gone, but she agreed with two Ruffians, Bianco and Brindoli, for 100 ducats to murder him.  
Gasparino and Christineta are both early up, but with different intents, and so are Bianco and Brindoli: They all meet, she walks in public, they hide themselves in private, when immediately in came Gasparino, and approaching Christineta with his Hat in his hand to salute her, she uttered these words, Gasparino, this place I first had conference in with Pisani, and here I purpose to have my last with You: At which words the Ruffians issued out and killed him, but with some noise and resistance. Christineta thinking him not dead enough, runs to him, thrusts her Handkerchief in his mouth, and with a Stiletto stabs him many times into the body, with this bloody Speech; This I sacrifice to the memory of my dear Love Pisani. Then throwing the body into the Well of the Garden, the Ruffians fled at a Postern, and Christineta went to the Nun's Church.  
The Nuns in their Cells having heard the clashing of Swords, acquaint the Abbess with it, who with other company coming into the Garden, found the Postern open, saw the Alleys bloody, and suspected Murder; whereupon she ordered the Garden to be searched, but forgot the Well. The Magistrates being advertised of it, caused enquiry to be made among all the Surgeons, who (having fresh-wounds) came lately to be cured? Rhanutio, a principal Chirurgeon, informed them of Bianco and Brindoli, who being both sent for, and examined how they came by their wounds, they said they had a quarre● between themselves, for which they fought at six in the morning in the Nun's Garden at St. Clare; which agreeing with the relation of the Nuns, all was ended.  
But Gasparino having been now missing from his Lodgings two whole nights, which his Lackey confirmed upon examination, with some other circumstances of suspicion, the Judges ordered Bianco and Brindoli to be imprisoned, examined, and tortured, which they stoutly bore, without confessing any thing. The Garden was again searched, and the Well which was neglected before, when letting down their hooks, they brought up some pieces of wrought black Taffeta, which Gasparino's Lackey did affirm his Master wore when he last saw him; and searching more narrowly, they brought up the dead body with thirteen several wounds, whereupon all concluded Bianco and Brindoli guilty. A little Boy standing by, asked what cloth that was in his mouth? which being pulled out, was found to be a Cambric Handkerchief with Christineta's Name upon it. Upon this she was apprehended in the midst of her pleasures; but upon examination denied she knew any thing of his death, until she was adjudged to the Rack, when she confessed the fact, and that in revenge of Pisani's death she had hired Bianco and Brindoli to murder him for 100 Crowns.  
The Ruffians were condemned to have their right hands cut off, and then to be hanged, and their bodies thrown into the River Po. Christineta was first hanged, and then burnt, and her ashes thrown into the Air, which Executions were performed, to the great satisfaction of Justice, and all the spectators.  May all Christians read this History with a holy dread, and remember it with horror and detestation. If thou wilt shun the Punishment, be sure to avoid the Crime; for if the wages of sin is Death, sure none but a Madman will lay out his pains to be so rewarded.  

HIST. III. Mortaign and Josselina.  
Mortaign deluding Josselina with promise of marriage, gets her with child, and then causes his Lackey Le Verdure, and Le Palma her Host, to murder her and her Son. Isabella, Le Palma's Wife, by her jealousy of her Husband discovers the murder, upon which they are all taken and executed.  
NOt far from the City of Lions in France, near Darency a small Country Village, dwelled an honest Farmer called Andrew Mollard, who being a Widower had one only Daughter named josselina, whom he intended for his Heir, a Maid of that blooming Beauty, that she was justly called josselina the Fair.  
Within a league of Mollard's house dwelled a rich Gentleman who had several Children, of which the eldest was Mortaign, but young in years, though of great hopes, and nobly educated in the Families of several Persons of Honour. Mortaign having now lived some years in Paris, was desirous to see his Father De Coucye, who was both aged and sickly, as also to be present at the Nuptials of one of his Sisters, who was to be married to a Gentleman of Avergne.  
The Wedding being over, and Mortaign weary of the diversions of the Country, resolves upon his return to Paris; but the night before his departure De Coucy fell dangerously sick of a burning Fever, which for the present put a stop to his journey. During his stay in the Country, as he was walking one day in the Fields he sprung a Pheasant, which flying to the next Woods, he sent for his Hawk; but having ranged far and near for several hours in quest of his Game, which he could not recover, he grew very thirsty, and ' spying Mollard's house at a distance, made up to it.  
Mortaign seeing a man in the Vineyard, demanded if he might have any Wine there; Mollard answered, Yes; and (guessing by his face who he was) courteously invited him into his house, where being set down, he sent his Daughter josselina for Wine, and what other homely Dainties his house afforded.  
Mortaign admiring to see so fair a Maid in so obscure a place, and curiously observing each grace and feature, to which was added a natural modesty, and simplicity of behaviour, was wholly ravished in the contemplation of her Beauty, and vowed to himself he would be Master of her affections, how dear soever it cost him. No sooner had Mortaign entertained these thoughts, but a lucky opportunity (and most favourable to his designs) offered itself; for Mollard told him, that he rent a small Tenement of De Coucy, who now sued him for two Heriots, and therefore entreated his good word to his Father in his behalf, which he promised, and with thanks for his kind reception, departed.  
Under pretence of discourse and business with Mollard, Mortaign made frequent visits to josselina, whose Chastity he attempted with variety of Gifts and Presents, which she modestly refused to accept upon so dishonourable terms; and assured him, that as a chaste and virtuous Reputation was the greatest part of her Fortune, so she would never exchange it for the infamous portion of shame and misery. Mortaign was now out of all hopes of success; but rather than miss his aim, was resolved to play his last stake, and promise Marriage; and accordingly told her, that notwithstanding the inequality of their Birth and Fortunes, he would condescend to marry her, provided she would first permit him to enjoy his desire. josselina flattering herself with the hopes of advancement, consented to it; and now finding herself with child, (which her Father likewise discovered, to his great grief and sorrow) advertised Mortaign of it, who one night stole her away from her Father's, and sent her ten leagues off from Durency, to a poor Kinswomans' house of his, where she was delivered of a fair lusty Boy.  
Calintha, Mortaign's Mother, who knew nothing of these passages, advised him to marry, and proposes a match to Monsieur De Vassey, the Seneschal of La Palisse, between his only Daughter Madamoyselle La Varina, and her eldest Son Mortaign: The Parents readily concluded, and upon sight the young Couple agreed, so that it was now generally reported the Marriage would be suddenly solemnised. This News startled josselina, who considering she must look to herself, being now disinherited by her Father, and having no Friend left to assist or advise her, she resolves to write Mortaign a Letter, to re-mind him of his promise, and desire some relief for herself and her Son.  
Josselina, to Mortaign.  
YOU prevailed upon my Honour with the sacred promise of making me your Wife: 'tis true I credulously believed your Oaths, and consented to my shame, but it was under the solemn pretence of Marriage; and though we wanted the Ceremony, yet Heaven is witness to the Contract, which now you resolve to violate. What though the sweetness of my Youth and the freshness of my Beauty have now lost their charming powers over you? yet methinks the innocent smiles of that lively Image you have left to my care should raise some pity in your breast.— But if you will not advance my Fortunes, yet make not shipwreck of my Life, as you have of my Chastity; and since all my support must proceed from you, it will be high ingratitude in you to deny her Maintenance, who hath given you a Son, and extreme cruelty not to allow the poor Babe wherewith to live, who received his life and being from You. I hope you will prove more natural to Him, and more charitable to Me, otherwise be assured that such unkindness will never be long unpitied of men, or unpunished of God.  
Josselina.  
With this to Mortaign, she sent another of the same effect to his Mother Calintha, which they received, when he, as an unworthy Gentleman, triumphs in his sin, and mocks at her poverty, and will neither relieve her or the Child, but burns the Letter without any further concern at it. Calintha's malice was so great, that she not only refused to assist them herself, but commands him that he should not supply them with any conveniencies, and heartily wishes them both in another world. At the hearing of this cruel News, josselina fell into a swoon, and had not some accidental assistance came in, she had then ended her life and misery together. Barbarous Calintha understanding in this interim poor Iosselina's residence, was so devilishly bend against her, that she persuaded her Landlady in a dark and cold night to turn her and the Child out of doors, and suffer her to have no other shelter but the ground for her bed, and the Heavens for her covering. In this distressed condition▪ with the unfortunate Babe in her arms, she wandered all night through the fields and places unknown, when by the morning light she discovered a Village which she knew, where she sold her clothes from her back to relieve herself and her Child. Here she continued some time in great extremity, when at last, forced by mere want and necessity, she acquainted some persons with her sad and deplorable condition, who advised to send Mortaign his Son home, and provide for herself.  
This was not so secretly discoursed, but it came to the ears of La Varina, Mortaign's Mistress at La Plaisse, who presently withdrew her affection from him, and her Father his respect; which Mortaign perceiving, and imagining it was upon the account of josselina, swore he would destroy both her and her Son, and the better to dissemble his design, he gave orders that she should be lodged in a better Inn, where she was furnished with all necessaries; and further sent her word, that he had provided a Nurse for his Son, and would shortly send his Lackey for him, and take more particular care for her support and maintenance, if she would keep things private to herself. josselina was much rejoiced hereat, and within three days Mortaign sent his Lackey Le Verdure for the Babe, which with many tears and kisses she delivered to him. Le Verdure following his Master's command, and being now four leagues from Villepont, strangles the pretty Infant whilst it smiled in his face, and wrapping it in a linen cloth, threw it into the River Lignon.  
Mortaign being thus rid of the Son, makes a bargain with Le Palma (Iosselina's Host) and his Lackey Le Verdure, for 200 Franks to stifle the Mother in her bed, which they performed, and buried her body in the Garden. As soon as these Villains had perpetrated this cruel murder, they went over to Durency to give Mortaign an account, and receive their reward; which having done, they continued several days together frolicking and drinking; when at last Le Palma went home to Villepont to his Wife Isabel; who being an old woman, and he a young man, she was jealous of his stay, supposing he went out in company with josselina, whereupon she entertained him with this salutation, Le Palma (quoth she) you are very unkind so soon to forsake your Where Josselina. For which he gave her the lie, called her Whore, and expressed himself highly passionate and angry. She continued her railing, and provoked him to that degree of impatience, that he struck her a box on the ear, which felled her dead to the ground, upon this noise the Neighbours came in, and supposing his Wife dead, apprehended Le Palma, and carried him before the Procurer Fiscal of La Palisse, who committed him to Prison. Isabel being recovered, complains to the Fiscal of her Husband's cruelty towards her, gives a true account of the occasion of the quarrel; adding, that if Josselina is not her Husband's Strumpet, she believes he is her Murderer, of which her Maid can say more. jaquela the Maid upon examination declared, That her Master Le Palma and Le Verdure were together at midnight in Josselina 's Chamber, and since she was never heard of. Le Palma being charged with these points, denied every syllable, that he neither was in her Chamber, nor knew what was become of her; but being judged to the Rack, confessed the Murder in the several particulars.  
Sergeants were presently sent to Mortaign and Le Verdure; they met the Lackey in the way, and seized his Master in bed. Le Verdure upon the torment confessed the murder of josselina and her Son, and Mortaign being examined, with great penitence owned the guilt he was charged withal; whereupon Le Palma was condemned to be hanged and burnt, Le Verdure to be broken on the Wheel, and his body thrown into the River Lignon, and Mortaign to be broken on the Wheel, his body burnt, and his ashes to be thrown into the Air; which on a Market-day was accordingly executed in La Palisse.  Let all Maidens learn to preserve their Chastity by the example of Josselina, and men by Le Verdure and Le Palma, not to shed innocent blood for the lucre of money; and by the lamentable end of Mortaign, to be less inhuman, bloody and lascivious.  

HIST. IU. Alsemero and Beatrice-Joanna.  
Beatrice-Joanna causeth the Flores to murder Alonso Piracquo, who was a Suitor to her, that she might marry with Alsemero; who being wedded to her, and finding her in Adultery with de Flores, kills them both. Alsemero afterwards treacherously kills Thomaso Piracquo in a Duel, for which being beheaded, the murder of Alonso is discovered and punished.  
NOt many years since, at the City of Valentia in Spain lived Don Pedro de Alsemero, a young and Noble Cavalier, who wholly applying himself to the Wars, added to his own plentiful Estate as large a share of Honour and Reputation. This Gentleman, whose temper altogether inclined to Martial affairs, resolved to leave his own Country, (now in peace) and enter himself into the Society of the Valiant Knights of Malta, and accordingly went to Alicant, where he stayed in expectation of a favourable wind. During his abode here, going one morning to Church, he observed a young Lady kneeling over-against him, with whose Beauty he was so surprised, that it was difficult to determine whether Love or Devotion more inflamed his heart, and inspired his thoughts. Mass being ended, he enquired of the Priest who this Lady was, her Name and Quality: The Priest told him, She is Daughter to Don Diego de Vermandero, Captain of the Castle, and her Name Donna Beatrice-Ioanna. The next morning Alsemero rose early, and went to the same Church, in hopes fortune would bless him with a second sight of her whose charming Graces had already so far prevailed upon him: when entering the Choir, he saw her upon her knees at prayers in the same place. Alsemero, who thought himself extremely blest with so lucky an opportunity, resolved to improve it to the best advantage; and kneeling down by her, (not having the patience to wait till Mass was ended) whispered his affections in her ear, interrupting her Devotions with his amorous Compliments, vowing to live and die her affectionate Servant. The Lady checked his bold Address with a modest reprehension, which (Prayers being ended) Alsemero renewed with all the passionate expressions of a vigorous Lover, and after several refusals, at last prevailed to wait upon her to the Castle, where the Captain her Father received him with all imaginable respect, and in return for his civilities to his Daughter, showed him the rarities and strength of the Fort. Alsemero continued his addresses to the Lady by frequent visits, which the Captain her Father seemed to encourage by a generous and courtly reception. In Alicant lived a young Gentleman of Noble Extract and plentiful Estate, whose name was Alonso Piracquo, a complete Courtier, and passionately in love with Beatrice-Ioanna.  
Piracquo, who had a long time concealed his affection, resolves now to make a visit to Vermandero, and acquaint him with his passion for his Daughter, which he accordingly did: Vermandero received him with all the demonstrations of respect and kindness, thanked him for the favour he did him in his honourable proposals, which he highly approved of, and was of nothing more ambitious, than an alliance with a person of so great worth and merit. Thus we see Alsemero rivalled in his pretensions to his Mistress, by an unknown Cavalier; but however, though Piracquo had gained the Father, Alsemero had already won the Daughter, who carried herself with that prudence and respect to Piracquo, that he lived in hopes, whilst Alsemero had the assurance of her love and affection.  
Vermandero after some time understanding the inclinations of Beatrice-Ioanna, which more respected Alsemero than Piracquo, now declared himself in behalf of Piracquo, and with an austere look commanded her to direct her affections accordingly; which she not observing, he withdrew himself to his Countryhouse at Briamata, and took her privately along with him. Piracquo had here the opportunity of courting his Mistress, which was denied Alsemero, who had already gained the Fort, which Piracquo in vain endeavoured to storm. Piracquo made his constant visits, whilst Alsemero could only solicit by Letters, which were powerful enough to preserve the heart he had already obtained. Several Letters had passed between Alsemero and Beatrice-Ioanna without the privity of Vermandero, when the last told him, That as he was sole master of her affections, so she earnestly coveted his company, which she desired that evening at eleven, when she would acquaint him with a secret which concerned them both.  
Alsemero upon this advice took post, and arrived at the hour appointed▪ when going privately into Vermandero's house, he found Diaphanta her waiting Gentlewoman attending his coming, who directed him to Beatrice-Ioanna's Chamber. And here, with the Readers leave, I'll draw the Curtain before those amorous Compliments and more familiar Dalliances with which the Lovers entertained themselves. In discourse Beatrice-Ioanna cast out some doubtful expressions to this purpose, That before Piracquo was in another world, there was no hopes for him to enjoy her for his Wife in this. Alsemero presently understood the sense of it, and offered to send him a Challenge, and fight him, which she would by no means admit of, and desired him to leave Alicant for a short time, and return to Valentia, and for the rest (says she) repose yourself upon my constancy and affection. The morning now growing upon them, Alsemero took his leave, and promised a full observance of her commands, and accordingly within four days left Alicant, and went back to Valentia. This meeting (though private) was not so closely carried, but Vermandero had notice of it, whereat he was very angry, but however assured Piracquo, that in a short time she should accomplish his desires, and that if his paternal admonitions could not, his authority should prevail over his Daughter's perverseness. Thus was Piracquo encouraged by Vermandero, though he had private intelligence sent him that Beatrice-Ioanna was already contracted to Alsemero, and it would now more nearly concern him to consult his reputation by an honourable retreat, than to advance his Suit with so much zeal and violence, which it was impossible he should ever obtain. But Piracquo pressed on more eagerly, which gave Beatrice-Ioanna great trouble and disquiet. Vermandero understanding that Alsemero was gone back to Valentia, returned to Alicant, where Piracquo made his daily visits. There was a gallant young Gentleman of the Castle whose name was Don Antonio de Flores, a person who dearly affected Beatrice-Ioanna, and one whom she thought might be a fit instrument to execute her barbarous and bloody design. She sent for De Flores accordingly, (who was now besotted with her Beauty) and acquainted him with her intentions, and by the powerful arguments of her more particular kindness and respect, won him to promise, that within few days he would answer her desires. De Flores insinuates himself into Piracquo's company, and waiting for an opportunity, he heard Piracquo one day commend the strength of the Castle, when De Flores told him he had not yet seen that which consisted in the Casemates, which were stored with good Ordnance to scour the Ditches: These Piracquo desired to see, but De Flores told him it was now noon, and if he pleased he would meet him after dinner, and wait upon him himself. After Dinner they met accordingly, went to the Ravelins, Sconces and Bulwarks, and from thence by a Postern to the Ditches and to the Casemates: Three of them they had viewed, and coming to the last, De Flores laid off his Rapier, telling Piracquo that the descent was narrow and craggy, upon which Piracquo put off his. Being entered into the Vault of the Casemate, as Piracquo was looking through a Porthole De Flores (who had hid a Sword and Poniard behind the door, stabbed him into the back, so swiftly redoubling his blows, that he killed him dead, and buried him under the ruins of an old wall.  
De Flores having committed this murder, acquaints Beatrice-Ioanna with it, who was overjoyed at it, and the better to blind the world caused it to be reported, that Piracquo was seen to go forth the Castle-gate, and take boat in the City, as was supposed for a little Sea-air. Piracquo being thus missed, after several days search in vain, was supposed to be drowned at Sea; and three months being now past, Alsemero was solemnly married to Beatrice-Ioanna at Alicant in much state and bravery.  
Alsemero had not been long married, but he grew jealous of his Wife, and so far restrained her former liberty, that she complained to the Captain her Father of his discourteous usage, upon which Alsemero provided a Coach, and carried her away to Valentia. Vermandero willing to know how matters stood between his Daughter and her Husband, sent De Flores to Valentia with Letters to them both. Alsemero being abroad, she told him of her Husband's unkindness, of which he taking the advantage, revived his old suit: she willingly complies with his desires, and prays him to see her more often. Alsemero coming home, understands by his Wife that De Flores had been there with Letters from her Father, and by Diaphanta her Waiting-woman (who was one of his spies) that there passed many amorous kisses between De Flores and her Mistress, and relates to him whatever she either heard or saw. Alsemero in a great fury flies to his Wife, charges her with too much familiarity with De Flores, and as his passion rises into a greater rage, calls her Whore, Strumpet, etc. Upon which, to palliate her own Crimes, she was forced to discover Piracquo's murder. Know (says she) Alsemero, since you will enforce me to show the true cause of my chaste familiarity with De Flores, that he it was who at my request dispatched Piracquo, without which I could never have enjoyed you for my Husband; and so told him all the circumstances of that cruel Murder, and conjured him to conceal the same; vowing to die a thousand deaths rather than defile his Bed. Alsemero wondered at this discourse, and strictly charged his Wife to admit De Flores no more to her company; but she continuing a correspondence with him, which Diaphanta informed her Master of, he pretended one day a Journey into the Country; but with a Case of Pistols in his Pocket, and his Rapier and Poniard privately withdrew into his Closet, which was within his Bedchamber.  
De Flores had presently notice that Alsemero was gone into the Country, and immediately came over to visit Beatrice-Ioanna; and as they were in the middle of their pleasures upon the Bed, Alsemero rushed in, and discharged his Pistols on them, and afterwards stabbed them with his Sword and Poniard, of which wounds they instantly died. This being done, he went and acquainted the Criminal Judges with the death of his Wife and De Flores, whom he had killed in the very act of Adultery. Diaphanta appeared a Witness for him, who declared upon Oath, That she had several times seen her Mistress and De Flores commit Adultery, and had acquainted her Master with it. Upon mature deliberation Alsemero was acquitted of the Fact, and the dead Bodies ordered to be buried.  
But now let us speak of Don Thomaso Piracquo, who had formerly advised his Brother Alonso Piracquo to give over his suit to Beatrice-Ioanna: He hearing of all these occurrences afresh, remembers his dead Brother, and confidently supposes that Alsemero and Beatrice-Ioanna had a hand in the loss of him; wherefore he now resolves to call Alsemero to account for him, and accordingly sent him this Challenge to Allicant, where he now resided.  
Thomaso Piracquo, to Alsemero.  
I Fear Beatrice-Joanna's vanity and your rashness have bereft me of a Brother I ever esteeemed more dear than my life. As I am a Gentleman I think I ought to seek satisfaction for his death with the hazard of my own life: wherefore, as your Sword has chastised Beatrice-Joanna's error, I hope mine is reserved to correct yours. I pray meet me at the foot of Glisseron-hill to morrow at five in the morning, and it shall be your choice either to use your Sword on horseback, or your Rapier on foot.  
Thomaso Piracquo.  
Alsemero accepts the Challenge, and they met at the hour and place appointed; when Alsemero throwing away his Rapier, with his Hat in his hand, told him he was ready to join with him in the revenge of his Brother's murder: Piracquo not suspecting any treachery, threw away his Sword too, and with the same civility addressed himself to Alsemero, who suddenly drew his Pistols out of his pocket, and shot the one through his head, and the other through his breast, upon which Piracquo cried out, O Villain! O Traitor! and fell down dead.  
The News of this murder, with the treachery and flight of Alsemero, was presently known, and the Criminal Judges ordered a speedy pursuit after him; in the midst of his haste his Horse fell with him, and broke his fore-leg, and Alsemero's right arm; when endeavouring to escape on foot, he was presently overtaken, and surrounded by six horsemen, against whom he defended himself like a Gentleman and a Soldier; when at last his Rapier being broke, he was forced to yield himself their Prisoner.  
Thus was he brought a pitied spectacle to Alicant, where he was condemned to lose his head; and being upon the Scaffold, and seeing no hopes of life, he discovered Don Alonso Piracquo's murder by De Flores in all its circumstances, protesting his own innocency, only in the concealment of it: Of which the Judges being advised, they caused his head to be taken off for Thomaso, and his body to be thrown into the Sea for concealing Alonso's murder, and the bodies of De Flores and Beatrice-Ioanna to be taken out of their Graves, and burnt at the common place of execution, and their ashes thrown into the Air.  Thus we see the justice of Heaven will at last overtake the bold offender, and though he seems at present to triumph in sin, and praise the success of his iniquity, yet let him consider the end of it will be bitter; and that though God does forbear, yet he will not forgive, without a sincere repentance,  

HIST. V. Sypontus and Victorina.  
Victorina causeth Sypontus to murder her first Husband Souranza, which is strangely discovered, and Sypontus executed. Afterwards she poisons her second Husband Fassino, for which her Maid Felicia being condemned, and upon the point of Execution, her innocency is cleared by a miraculous discovery of the truth, and Victorina hanged and burnt.  
IN the Reign of Leonardo Donato Duke of Venice, there lived a worthy Gentleman called Signior jacomo Beraldi, who had one Daughter named Donna Victorina, a young Gentlewoman rich, noble, and fair, and courted by several persons of the first rank and quality in Venice. Amongst other suitors, Signior Sypontus was most esteemed by the Lady; but having lately suffered great losses by the Turks, her Father recommended Signior Souranza to her affections, who as he was of a far greater Estate, so was he now in his declining age, and wanted those warmer Charms which the youthful Sypontus was blest withal, and the sprightly Victorina most affected. However, her Parents forced her affections to submit to their will, and within few days she was married to Souranza; but Sypontus (to use the Venetian phrase) was her Enamorato and she his Courtizana. Victorina now grew so notoriously vicious, that she perfectly hated her Husband, and wished him every day in another world, which she often hinted to Sypontus, but he seemed to take no notice of it, till one day hearing of two great losses which had befallen him in the Levant Seas, which amounted to at least 70000 Checchines, and knowing Souranza to be very rich, he resolved to make himself master of his Estate, by murdering him, and marrying his Wife. This was concluded on, and three days after Souranza going to his house of pleasure near Milan, upon the bank of the River Brenta, Sypontus hired two Watermen to assasinate him, who being sworn to secrecy, as Souranza returned (after three days stay) in the close of the evening, Sypontus in disguise entered his Boat, and with his Poniard stabbed him to the Heart, cut off his Nose and Beard that he might not be known, and threw him into the Sea, and the Waterman after him, that he might tell no tales; and making haste home, sent this Letter to Victorina.  
Sypontus, to Victorina.  
My dearest Victorina.  
I Have begun and ended a business which infinitely imports your good and my content. The party hath drunk his fill of White and Claret, and is now gone to his eternal rest. I hope a little time will wipe off your Tears, and confirm our joys. judge by this the sincerity of my love, who will rather endanger my life, and hazard my hopes of a future Heaven, to enjoy the present Paradise of your Company. We must for a time refrain each others company, that we may the sooner meet and embrace with more content, and less danger.  
Sypontus.  
Victorina was extremely pleased at the News; but the better to hide her malice began to complain of her Husbands long stay, and sent a Nephew of his own to see how he did, who brought word that he was come from thence four days before; and that after all the enquiry he had made, he could hear nothing of him. Victorina appeared all in tears, and grieved above measure, for fear any mischance had befallen him. What she did in appearance, his friends did in reality, when word was brought that a dead body was taken up by some Fishermen, and landed at St. Mark's Stairs. Signior Souranza the Nephew went presently to the place, and observing the body more curiously, at last espied a red spot in the Neck, and a Wart under the left Eyelid, by which marks he was too well assured it was the body of his Uncle Signior Baptista Souranza. The body was decently interred, and Victorina remained the most disconsolate Widow in the World. Souranza the Nephew, who had formerly made some observations on the carriage and behaviour of Victorina, vehemently suspected her of this Murder; and for the more effectual discovery, inquires of Felicia, Victorina's waiting Gentlewoman, what persons most frequently visited her Lady, when she named Sypontus, that he sent her many Letters, and that there was much love and familiarity between them. Souranza conjured her to intercept some of their Letters, which she promised to do; and in a short time after, being sent to fetch her Lady a pair of Romish Gloves, she opened an Ivory Box, where she found the Letter which Sypontus sent to her. Souranza having read the Letter, accused Sypontus and Victorina of this murder before the Criminal Judges. They were examined, but denied the Fact, and disowned the Letter, upon which they were separately committed to Prison. Sypontus' suspecting the discovery of this Letter was by the treachery of Victorina, sent a Letter privately to her, in which he charged her with it; but she in her answer to him so well cleared her Innocency to his great satisfaction, that he now resolved no torments should force him to accuse her. The next day he was put to the Rack, where he endured the torments with admirable constancy; but the next day the torments being redoubled upon him, he confessed the Letter his, and himself guilty of the murder, and totally cleared Victorina. Upon this he was condemned to lose his head between the two Columns at St. Mark's Place; and being brought upon the Scaffold, confessed the murder to all the spectators, but took it upon his death that Victorina was absolutely innocent, and no ways privy to it. Victorina was afterwards sent for into Court, and threatened with the Rack; but she boldly denied all, and was in open Court acquitted and discharged.  
Six months were scarcely passed, since these tragical revolutions happened, but Victorina throwing off her mourning, adorned herself with her richest Jewels, and resolves to have a second Husband; and amongst the crowd of Suitors which her great Wealth and Beauty brought her, she fixed on Signior Ludovico Fassino, a handsome young Gentleman, rich and nobly born, but extremely vicious and debauched. A month was hardly past since the Nuptials, but he left her, to follow his old course of Whoring, so that now she is become a married Widow; and understanding that the Lady Calenare was the Loadstone that attracted him from her, she first endeavoured by all the endearments of Love and Respect to recover his straggling heart; but this not affecting him at all, she storms, and in most sharp and severe terms reproaches him for his unkindness and disrespect to her, who must now be slighted for the company of an impudent and common Courtizana. Signior Fassino took no heed to her words, but pursued the same lewd courses, upon which Victorina vows a revenge, and that his life shall pay dearly for abusing her, and so concludes secretly to poison him, and to that purpose sent for Augustino an Apothecary, to whom she offered 300 Checchines to perform it; but he very honestly refused it, and persuaded her to better thoughts; but she persisting in her bloody design, was resolved to do it herself, and to that purpose procured Poison from a strange Empiric, and now only waited an opportunity to administer it.  
Not long after Fassino complained he was very sick, which was occasioned by his dissolute life, and desired his Wife to make him some comfortable Broth; which she glad of, commands her Maid Felicia to make it, and going up to her Closet, fetched down the Poison, and (having sent Felicia from the fire) put two parts of it into the Broth, and kept the third by her. Victorina (who no less intended a revenge on Felicia too, for discovering Sypontus' Letter) order her to carry the Broth up to Fassino, which he supped off, wh●●'●● she went and laid the other part of the Poison in Felicia's Trunk, and came down undiscovered. About an hour after the poison began to operate with Fassino, who called for his Wife, and told her that he feared Felicia had poisoned him in the Broth she gave him, and desired she would send for his Friends and Relations, who found him ready to expire, and cried out with one consent, he was poisoned. Victorina accuses her Maid Felicia, which dying Fassino confirms, that she had that morning poisoned him in the Broth, upon which she was apprehended, and carried before the Criminal Judges, where with tears and cries she justified her innocence: But Fassino being now dead, and there appearing all probabilities of Felicia's guilt, she was hurried away to Prison.  
Three days after being brought upon her trial, she confessed she gave him the Broth, but knew nothing of any poison it; when being asked if any body else meddled with the Broth, she answered, No, not to her knowledge, but she was afraid it was a device of her Ladies to be revenged upon her for a former grudge. Upon this they went to Fassino's house, and secured Victorina, and searched all the Boxes, Trunks, and Caskets, but found nothing; when going into Felicia's Chamber, they in search of her Trunk found the remaining part of the Poison, upon which she was condemned to be hanged next morning at St. Mark's Place, and Victorina discharged. Being now brought to the place, she ascended the Ladder, and protested to the world she knew nothing of the matter, but imagined her Lady Victorina was not innocent, and so prepared herself to die; when Augustino the Apothecary landed at St. Mark's stairs, and seeing a young Gentlewoman ready to be executed, demanded who she was, and her Crime, and being told the whole circumstance, remembered that Victorina had formerly tempted him to the same murder, and did believe the Maid was innocent, and the Mistress guilty: wherefore hasting to the Officer, he requested him to stay Execution, for he had something material to discover in relation to Fassino's murder. Augustino then in discreet manner informs the Judges of the manner, time, and place where Victorina seduced him to poison Fassino.  
Felicia was presently remanded to Prison, and Victorina apprehended, and confronted with Augustino, who now made good his former allegation. At first she denied every thing; but being adjudged to the Rack, she acquitted Felicia, and acknowledged herself guilty both of her first and second Husband's murder. Upon this Confession innocent Felicia was freed, and Victorina condemned the next morning to be hanged and burnt at St. Mark's Place, which was performed accordingly. She died very penitent, and desired that her example might be a caveat to forewarn others from commission of the like Crimes, which would certainly bring them to the same punishments.  
Could the Power of sin defend us from the Punishment, or the fading Pleasures of it comfort us in our Sufferings for it, we had some encouragement to be wicked: But when our utmost Reward is to be completely miserable, he that is guilty of it sins against the light of his own reason, and to be sure not to be happy, purchases his own Damnation at the price of his immortal Soul.  
Let us therefore praise the Providence and justice of God; the first by protecting the Innocent after an extraordinary manner from the brink of destruction, in the example of Felicia: and the latter by punishing the detestable sins of Murder and Adultery, in the sad example of Victorina.   

HIST. VI De Salez and La Hay.  
De Salez kills Vaumartin in a Duel, murders his own Father, that he may marry La Hay a Strumpet, who afterwards cuts his throat. She hires Michael to poison La Frange, for which Crimes Lafoy Hay hath her right hand cut off, and is burnt. Michael is broken on a wheel, and De Salez his dead body is hanged and burnt.  
AT Tholouse in France lived a Counsellor whose name was Monsieur de Argentier a Widower, who had one only Son called De Salez, of two and twenty years old, whose martial temper, (which wholly inclined him to the Wars) being unpleasing to his Father's quiet disposition, he endeavoured to divert him, by offering to his choice several Noble, Rich and Virtuous Ladies, out of whom he desired him to choose a Wife, and more particularly recommended to him La Frange, the only Daughter of Monsieur de Clugny, very young, and of most complete perfections of mind, though of a misshapen body. The Fathers had already agreed upon the Match, and appointed a solemn meeting for their Children, which produced different effects: Lafoy Frange highly approved, and passionately loved De Salez, whilst he on the contrary could entertain no thoughts but what showed his slight and disesteem of her.  
At the same time there was a Nobleman called the Baron of Vaumartin, who to repair the Debaucheries of his youth, courted La Frange in marriage, but more out of respect to her Fortune, than affection to her Person; and being put off with only verbal compliments by De Clugny the Father and La Frange the Daughter, was at last acquainted that his suit would be but vain and fruitless, for De Salez was that happy person she loved and admired. De Salez was in this interim grown acquainted with Monsieur de Soulange, a Gentleman of ' small Estate, but blest with three Daughters famed for their Beauties through the whole City, of which the Phoenix was Lafoy Hay, the youngest. De Salez, who had contracted a friendship with Monsieur de Soulange, that he might have the better colour to visit his Daughters as other young Sparks of the Town did, grew passionately in love with Lafoy Hay, who as she was exceeding beautiful, so did she in her mien and behaviour appear with all the graces of modesty and goodness: But though in public she seemed an unspotted Virgin, yet was she in private a professed Courtesan; nor was she so secret in her lascivious delights, however she obliged her Gallants to conceal her favours, but she was suspected of dishonesty by all chaste and virtuous persons. Amongst others of her Enamorato's, De Salez was one, who doting on her delicate Complexion, and counterfeit Modesty, spent all his hours in visits to La Hay, and with his best art and policy laid siege to her chastity: but such was her subtlety, that knowing he loved her, and was the only Son of a rich Councillor, she resolved to decoy him in for her Husband, and would not by all his costly Treats and constant solicitations be won to his embraces and consent to his lustful desires.  
This folly of De Salez, and subtlety of La Hay, was not managed with that privacy, but Argentier his Father took notice of it, and considering De Soulange's mean Extraction and Poverty, and his own Nobility and Wealth, was high incensed with De Salez for his courtship to La Hay, told him she was a Strumpet, and swore if he did not leave her, and marry La Frange, he would disinherit him, and never repute him for his Son. But De Salez is resolute in his folly, and contemning his Father's advice, privately contracts himself to La Hay, and promises as soon as providence shall be so kind to him to call his Father into another World, he would consummate the Espousals. In the mean time the Baron of Vaumartin seeing all his addresses to La Frange was unsuccesful, and his Debts and Creditors growing clamorous upon him, resolves with himself that so long as De Salez lives, to whom La Frange had entirely devoted herself, he must never expect to be happy in her arms; and therefore, to remove this obstacle, concludes to send him a Challenge, since it would appear more noble and generous to kill him in the field, than privately murder him by Poison or Poniard. The next day by his Page he sent him this Letter.  
Vaumartin, to De Salez.  
IF you seek the cause of my malice, you may find it in the Lady La Frange's affection to you, and hatred to myself; wherefore think it not strange that I command my Pen to invite you and your Sword to meet me at five in the morning to morrow, on horseback, without Seconds, behind the Jacobins Garden. Could that sweet Lady have affected Me more, or You less, we might have proved as true Friends, as now our Reputations conjure us to live or die honourable Enemies.  
Vaumartin.  
De Salez having received and read this Challenge, wondered at it, considering he neither regarded La Frange, nor valued her affection: But lest Vaumartin should think by his declining the Combat, it was for want of courage to meet him, he called the Page, and bid him tell his Master he would not fail to breakfast with him at the time and place appointed.  
The morning being come, our Champions met bravely mounted, with each his Chirurgeon at the place assigned, where they no sooner saw each other, but setting Spurs to their Horses, they closed furiously, and at the third encounter De Salez ran Vaumartin through the body, when dropping his Sword, his body fell from his Horse stark dead to the ground. De Salez galloped to the next Village to dress his wounds, and then provided for his safety by flight, All persons rejoiced at the good success of De Salez, whose Father and Friends with much difficulty at last obtained his Pardon. But no sooner was De Salez returned, but he renewed his visits to La Hay, to the great grief of his Father, and dissatisfaction of all his Relations. Sometime after Argentier being obliged upon some considerable business to go to Paris, both advised and charged De Salez during his absence to forbear his visits to La Hay, and for fear he should forget his commands, as he was on the way to Paris he writ this Letter, and sent it to him.  
Argentier, to De Salez.  
IT is out of a religious and fatherly tenderness that I now send thee these lines, for thy Youth cannot see what my Age knows, how many miseries attend Vice, and how many blessings wait on Virtue. If La Frange be not fair, yet she is not contemptible: If therefore thou wilt leave a Saint to marry a Strumpet, then take La Hay, and forsake La Frange; but if thou wilt forsake a Strumpet to marry a Saint, then take La Frange, and leave Lafoy Hay: In the First thou shalt find content and honour, but in the Second shame and repentance. This Letter shall be a witness betwixt God, myself, and thee, that if thou perform not my commands I will deny thee my Blessing, and deprive thee of my Lands.  
Argentier.  
De Salez was infinitely troubled at this Letter, to see his Mistress disgraced, and himself obliged to so difficult a task, that he was not able to hide his discontent from the observance of La Hay; who desirous to know the reason of it, as he was one day asleep on the Couch, she dived into his pockets, where she found his Father's Letter, and having perused the contents with choler, awaked De Salez, and with the Letter in her hand called Heaven and Earth to witness her Innocence, and the wrong his Father had done her, and that whatever he might out of malice or prejudice say or think, she hoped the world entertained a more honourable opinion of her, whose Virtue was as chaste, and Reputation as unspotted, as the envious and deformed la Frange. De Salez at last with the most powerful expressions of the sincerity of his affections to her, appeased her raging passion, and solemnly swore that he would never be prevailed upon to forsake his admired La Hay for the hated La Frange. But she being doubtful of the worst, and fearing that at some time the commands of the Father might take place upon the duty and obedience of the Son, like an impious Wretch resolves to send her into another world, and for that purpose hires Bernardo Michael, an Italian Empiric, for 400 Crowns to poison her, which he promised to perform.  
Michael being now to consider what methods he was to take, concludes to insinuate himself into de Clugny's acquaintance under the notion of a Chirurgeon, who by his great skill was able to reform the crooked body of the young Lady his Daughter, and accordingly furnished himself with several plausible reasons to induce him to believe it. This succeeded, and de Clugny having had consultation with divers other Physicians and Surgeons, resolves to employ him, and gave him 100 double Pistols in hand to attempt it, with the promise of as much more when he had performed it. Michael being thus employed, betakes himself to his business, applies Plasters and Cerecloths outwardly, and inwardly Pills and Potions, into which he infused the Poison, which he assuredly knew would in ten days send her into another world; whereupon he secretly went to La Hay, and bid her provide the rest of the money, which she willingly gave him, and again swearing him to secrecy they parted; and just on the tenth day la Frange (to the unspeakable grief of her Parents) died, not without suspicion of Poison, upon which Michael was apprehended, when La Hay (to prevent his discovery) privately sent him 100 Crowns more, and promised him a rich Diamond Ring, which so wrought upon him, that when he was upon the Rack to extort a Confession from him, he outbraved his torments, denied the Fact, and so was acquitted.  
Lae Frange being thus dead, De Salez resolves to go to Paris to obtain his Father's leave to marry La Hay▪ but the old Gentleman to prevent the same had bought a Captain's Commission for him, and contracted with Monsieur de Brianson to marry De Salez to his Daughter; whereupon he sent to his Son to make haste to him at Paris, and upon his arrival discoursed his intentions to him. De Salez obstinately refused both his Commission and his new Mistress, and would neither accept the one, nor see the other; whereat his Father in a rage swore he would disinherit him if he would not comply with his commands in three days. De Salez mad on the other side, resolved rather to dispatch his Father, than leave lafoy Hay, when two nights after he found an opportunity to perpetrate his villainous design. Supper being ended, his Father complained he was not well, and ordered his Clerk next morning early to carry his Water to Dr. Salop, an eminent Physician who lived at the other part of the City. No sooner in the morning was the Clerk gone, but the Salez stole privately into his Father's Chamber, and finding him in a sound sleep, stifled him betwixt two Pillows, went out undiscovered, and speedily hasted to St. Honories gate, and so to St. Clow. The Clerk returning from the Physician, entered his Master's Chamber, found him dead, and almost cold in his bed; at which sight crying out, the Master of the house came up, who vowed he saw no person enter his Chamber, and that his Son departed as soon as himself. The body was searched, but no wounds appearing, it was concluded he died a natural death, upon which the Corpse was nobly interred by De Salez with all the outward expressions of grief and sorrow.  
De Salez having with all pomp and decency performed the Obsequies of his Father, within eight days returned to Tholouse, where the old Gentleman was much lamented by all but the wicked La Hay, who rejoiced at it, and De Salez himself was so senseless and forgetful of his Father's memory and his own Reputation, that in six weeks he threw aside his Mourning, and in the most gaudy Apparel solemnly married Lafoy Hay, at which the whole City wondered.  
Three months were hardly past after their marriage, before De Salez discovered the lascivious Intrigues of his Wife, whose Adulteries had now made him a Knight of the Forked Order; to prevent which, or at least conceal ●t, he persuades her to reform her life, complains to her Father, but neither prevailed, for she was now grown so impudent, she scorned her Husband, and played the Whore before his face with open doors: whereupon he resolves to divorce himself from her, and took advice upon it; which coming to her knowledge, she vowed not to lose her share in his Estate, which was very great, but to prevent him, and satisfy her own malice by a present and bloody revenge. To this end, watching an opportunity when most of the Servants were abroad at the Vintage, she stole into her Husband's Chamber, and finding him sound sleeping, she drew out a Razor from her sleeve, stepped to him, and cut his throat; when throwing the Razor and her Taffata-gown (which was all bloody) into the house of Office, she secretly got out to Church. De Salez, whose throat was not cut so fully through, but he could cry and groan, was overheard by two of his Servants, who hastily coming up, heard him utter these fearful speeches; That Strumpet my Wife hath killed me! O that she-Devil my Wife hath murdered me! The Servants cried out at the Window, and called in the Neighbours, who sent for his Confessor, and the Lieutenant Criminal, to both which he said the same words, confessed the stifling of his Father, and instantly died. Search was presently made for La Hay, who was found in the Dominican Friars Church at Sermon, from whence she was dragged to Prison, and charged with her Husband's murder, which she confessed upon the Rack; upon which she was condemned to be hanged and then burnt. Being remanded to Prison, some Divines who were sent to her so wrought upon her conscience, that she confessed further how she hired M●cha●l for three hundred Crowns to poison la Fr●nge▪ of which the Judges having notice, altered her sentence, and judged her to have her right hand cut off, and then be burnt alive. De Salez his dead body was ordered to be hanged at the common Gallows by the heels, and then burnt.  
Michael as soon as he heard of La Hay's Imprisonment, fled disguised in a Friar's habit; but being discovered, was brought back to Tholouse, where for poisoning La Frange he was adjudged to be broken on the Wheel, and there to remain till he was dead, and his body to be thrown into the River Garrow, which the same day was executed accordingly. As he lived an Atheist, so he died impenitently; saying only this, Because the World had had so much to say to Him, he would have nothing to say to the World, but bad the Executioner dispatch him quickly.  Thus do we see the justice of Heaven punishing the Disobedience of De Salez by the dishonesty of La Hay, and the murder he had committed on his Father revenged on him by his adulterous and bloody Wife, who is herself at last rewarded with the justice and severity of the Law, whilst the wicked Empiric Michael, who had lived in sin, died in shame; he lived the Devil's Servant, and died his Martyr.  

HIST. VII. Mertillus and Doranta.  
Geronto murders Floria in the street by night. Doranta and her Maid Salvia poisoned her Husband Mertillus. Salvia afterwards strangles her newborn Child, for which being apprehended, upon the Ladder she confesses that her Mistress Doranta and herself poisoned Mertillus, for which Doranta is taken and hanged.  
IN the famed City of Barcelona dwelled an ancient Lady named Donna Felicia Maracalla, who by her late Husband had two Children, a Son called Don Floria, and a Daughter named Donna Doranta: Maracalla (though not rich) educated her Children very genteely, and maintained them exceeding rich in Apparel. The Beauty and courteous behaviour of Doranta invited an old rich Gentleman termed Don Francisco Geronto to make his courtship to her: The Mother approved of Geronto's Riches, but Doranta despised his Age, (being near threescore and ten) at whose request Don Floria soon prevailed with his Mother to change her good opinion of Geronto, upon which they all three gave him the repulse and denial; but such was his obstinacy, that he would receive no answer, though by frequent disobligations they endeavoured to tyre his patience, and often either refused his visits, or left him to converse with the bare walls.  
But Doranta was so urgent with her Mother for a Husband, that she was ashamed of her unchaste desires, and to prevent future mischief promised her at large to get her one; but she impatient of delay, urges her Brother Floria both to remind her Mother of her promise, and that he would recommend some Gentleman of his acquaintance to her love.  
It chanced not long after, going with her Mother to the Benedictine Monks Church, she saw a proper young Gentleman not far from her, and ordering her Lackey privately to inquire who the young Cavalier was, he brought her word his name was Don Mertillus, Son and Heir of Don Richardo de Mantez: Doranta at first sight was so enamoured with the comeliness of his person, that she vowed neither her Mother or Brother should have any truce before they had made a motion of Marriage for her to Don Mertillus, and so prevailed with her importunity, that some few days after Don Floria invited him home to his Lady-Mother Maracalla's house, where after a noble entertainment, Maracalla with the greatest compliments and commendations of him she presents her Daughter's motion to him. He saw Doranta, and very respectfully told her he thought himself extremely happy that a Lady of her Perfections was pleased to have an esteem for him, and that he would advise with his Father, whose consent he was obliged to receive, and hoped to obtain. Mertillus at his return acquaints his Father with this proposal, who by all means endeavours to divert him from it, alleging as the most considerable argument, that the poverty of the Mother could never raise a Fortune for the Daughter answerable to his Estate and Quality, and therefore charged him to think no more of it.  
Geronto, who upon all occasions still pressed on his Suit, understanding that Mertillus had gained Doranta's affection, and (as the report went) would shortly marry her, (which he thought made him slighted) he vowed his death; and hearing that the following evening Mertillus supped at Maracalla's house, (which he yet secretly visited, notwithstanding his Father's commands to the contrary) charged his Pistol with a brace of Bullets, and waited his coming forth; but Don Floria accidentally coming out upon some particular business, Geronto lets fly at him, (supposing he had been Mertillus) and shot him through the head, at which he fell down to the ground.  
The report of the Pistol was heard, and Don Floria found reeking in his blood; upon this noise in the street the house was alarmed, and Mertillus coming hastily out, saw his friend Don Floria murdered at his gate. Mertillus, who was diligent in the search and pursuit of the murderers, found Geronto limping in the street with his Darklanthorn in his hand; and laying hold of him, caused him to be committed to prison. Next day Maracalla went to the Criminal Judges of the City, and accused Geronto of the murder of her Son, for that he was found near the house with a Pistol in his pocket which had been lately discharged. Geronto boldly denied the Fact, and justified his own innocency; but being ordered to the Rack, upon sight thereof he confessed the murder, and the reasons which prompted him to it; upon which he was condemned to be hanged, which the next day he suffered at the common place of execution; where by a foolish Speech he endeavoured to excuse himself, and that it was by the darkness of the night he mistook Floria for Mertillus, against whom only his Pistol and Revenge was levelled, whilst Floria suffered by mistake.  
Don Richardo knowing his Son Mertillus yet continued his visits to Doranta, as this accident published to the whole City, was infinitely troubled at it, and to prevent his marriage sent him to Marina, (a Mannour-house of his some ten leagues off in the Country) with charge to continue there till he received his positive order to return. Mertillus was extremely troubled at the rigorous commands of his Father, and Doranta in appearance grieved no less; but being of a wanton disposition, and thinking Mertillus stayed too long as she conceived, began to entertain lascivious thoughts, and could neither live chaste nor constant; but utterly forgetful of her respects and professed affection to Mertillus, received new impressions from other Gallants, whose courtship found a welcome reception, and easy conquest, to whom Doranta prodigally dispensed her favours, which at last grew so public, that her Mother both sharply reprehended her, and by strict confinement endeavoured to reform her loser conversation. At this she pines, grows sick, and keeps her bed, at which her Mother was very much troubled, and sent a messenger to Mertillus, to inform him of Doranta's indisposition, which he credulously supposed was occasioned by his absence, and very kindly sent word he would certainly wait upon her the next day, which he performed accordingly; when Doranta dissembling her affection to him, told him, It was for him alone she thus languished, and must certainly die, if she could not be for ever so happy both in his company and affection. Mertillus, whose love was sincere as his expressions, with much difficulty obtained his Father's consent, and married in state and bravery.  
Never did Husband love a Wife more dearly, who deserved so ill; for three months after marriage she not only slighted his conversation, but refused his bed, which unkindness of hers brought him into a deep Consumption; whereof being ready to die, she was so far from sorrowing for him, that in her heart she wished him dead; and for fear his skilful Physicians should recover him, resolved to poison him, and with her own wicked hands administer the fatal Boll. To this end she acquainted her Chambermaid Salvia with her design, who for the reward of 50 ducats consented to it, and promised her assistance. After her Mistress had sworn her to secrecy, she sent her to procure a strong poison, and advising Mertillus to drink some comfortable Broth she had made him, infused the poison in it, of which before night he died, and by his Wife was privately and suddenly buried, his long illness taking off all suspicion of a violent death.  
This Tragedy being thus acted, Doranta (tho'a Widow) was very jovial, and merry, and now breaks Pale, ranging beyond all bounds of Chastity and Honour, insomuch that her Mother and all her Relations were ashamed of her infamous behaviour. Two months were scarce expired since Mertillus was laid in his untimely Grave, when (contrary to the minds of all her friends) she married with Don Renardo de Polez, one of her former Paramours, altogether as vicious as herself, who though he well knew her to be dishonest, yet for the advantage of her present fortune was induced to be her Husband; but that not answering his expectation, he thought it high time to be wise, and (contrary to Mertillus his humour) was very strict to her, and after a little time confined her Prisoner to her Chamber, where (like a Scholar) she conversed only with her Book and Needle; and to make an absolute conquest over her haughty temper, he despoiled her of her best Apparel, her Rings, Chains and Jewels, allowing her little or no money.  
Doranta, tho' grievously perplexed at this change of her fortune, yet still continued in her unchaste pleasures as often as opportunity gave her leave; and no sooner was her Husband abroad, but she had a Ruffian at home. And her Maid Salvia following the example of her Mistress, with the 50 ducats given her for the poisoning of Mertillus bought her new clothes, which procured her a Sweetheart named Blanco, with whom she wantonised so often, that at last she had a great Belly, which she concealed from all persons but Blanco, who advised thereof, fled into France. Salvia now considering her former folly, and present misery, and seeing herself deserted by Blanco, and no friend she could rely upon, in the midst of these distressed thoughts fell into labour, and was delivered of a fair Son, which she strangled as soon as born, to hide her own shame, and the same evening wrapped it up in a linen cloth, and with a packthread tied a stone to it, and carried it to a Pond without the City, and threw it in without being observed by a●y body. This done, she did not think it proper for her to go home to her Master's house that night, but lodged at an Inn whose Sign was the St. john's head, where (pretending lameness which she had got by a fall) she was kindly entertained.  
But within an hour after a Groom watering his Horse there, so sported and plunged the water with his feet, still pawing and snuffling and thrusting his head therein, that at last the packthread broke, and the linen cloth appeared floating, in which was found the Infant lately murdered. This brought a great concourse of spectators, who all concluded it to be the Bastard of some Strumpet, and murdered by her; upon which a search was made in the adjacent parts, and Salvia apprehended by the Officers of Justice, who upon search appeared to be the Mother of the Infant. Upon this she was imprisoned, and threatened with the Rack, and for fear of the torments confessed she had strangled and thrown it into the Pond, for which she was condemned to be hanged. Being brought to the place of execution, and now upon the Ladder, she confessed there was one sin which she had not discovered, or repent of; which was, that she with her Lady Doranta had poisoned Mertillus; whereupon Doranta was immediately apprehended, and confessing the fact which Salvia accused her of, was condemned to be hanged, which was executed accordingly; and to Salvia's sentence was added, that after she was hanged her body should be burnt to ashes.  Hence may every lascivious Dame learn the practice of Virtue and Chastity by the sad examples of Doranta and Salvia, and take warning by Geronto not to slain their grey hairs with the scarlet die of Murder, which will bring them with sorrow and shame to the Grave.  

HIST. VIII. Ursina and her Son Bernardo.  
Bernardo poisoneth his own Mother Ursina, and afterwards kills Romeo in his Garden with a Carbine from a window. For these two Murders he is beheaded, his body burnt, and his ashes thrown into the River.  
IN the Noble City of Orleans in France there lately dwelled a rich Canon of a Cathedral named Cortesius Romeo, who had a young Gentlewoman to his Niece of excellent Beauty and Disposition, whose deceased Mother left her very rich: her Uncle Romeo being nearest in blood, took her into his protection, giving her all manner of Breeding and Education requisite for a person of her Rank and Quality; and the better to accomplish her in all virtuous perfections, carefully sent her in his Coach to Morlieu, to the Lady Margareta Ursina, a Widow-gentlewoman, eminent both in Virtue and Piety. Donna Carolla (for so was she called) with her waiting Maid and one Manservant, arrives there, where she is kindly received by Ursina, highly applauding Romeo's honourable care of his Niece, who she hopes in few years will be a most complete Gentlewoman.  
Romeo did well to place his young Niece with the Lady Ursina, but ill forgot that she had a young man to her Son named Monsieur Bernardo, a most debauched person, and one whose vicious life made him the scorn and pity of all Morlieu. This young Spark seeing so sweet a Beauty, and so great an Heiress (as Carolla was) fallen into his Mother's hands, secretly courts her, but she received him with contempt and indignation, upon which he grew more importunate, and she no less averse; when Bernardo hoping no success from these violent courses, acquaints his Mother with his passion for Carolla, who forbids him to proceed any further, unless he would swear to reform himself, which he vowed on his knees to do, and performed accordingly. Romeo came three several times over to Morlieu to see his Niece, whom Ursina entertained with all imaginable respect, charging her Son during his stay not to mention one word to Romeo of his affection to his Niece. But Ursina now secretly understanding by Letter from Orleans, that the following Autumn Romeo designed to send for his Niece home, thought it convenient to motion it to him, which she did in a fair and honourable manner. But Romeo displeased with her ambition in desiring his Niece for a Wife for her Son, well knowing the small Estate of the Mother, and corrupt conversation of the Son; yet taking no notice thereof, he excused himself that he had already disposed his Niece, and could not with Honour or Justice recede from his promise.  
Three weeks after this answer, not thinking his Niece to be safe at Morlieu, he sent over his Coach and Servants to bring her home, writing a gratulatory Letter to the Lady Ursina, for her great Care, honourable Education, and Entertainment.  
Romeo, to Ursina.  
HAving formerly contracted my Niece Carolla to a Husband, his request and my promise now oblige me to take her from you in Morlieu, and give her to him at Orleans. To this purpose I here send my Coach and Servants to you for her, and desire you to return her to me, with your best prayers that she who by your sober instructions and indulgent care has begun the morning of her life in Piety and Virtue, may continue in those happy paths, and die in Peace, to live in everlasting Glory.  
Romeo.  
This Letter vexed both Ursina and her Son, as seeing thereby no hopes of attaining their ends; wherefore Ursina (at her Son's entreaty) uses all her Interest to persuade Carolla, but she was deaf to her motion, and so far from harkening thereto, that she now refused to see Bernardo, much less admit him to any grace or favour.  
Breakfast being now ended, and the Coach ready, Carolla departs to Orleans to her Uncle Romeo; but Ursina would not be thus repulsed, but writes a second Letter to Romeo to the same purpose; who very angry that she should so disrespect him as not to credit what he had said, and believe him that she was praecontracted, very sharply returned her the same answer as before, protesting withal for the future either not to receive her Letters, or to answer them with silence. Bernardo was so incensed to see all his great expectations utterly defeated, that he returns to his former Vices, and lives more dissolute than ever, upon which Ursina vowed she would never speak in his behalf any more. This resolution of the Mother breeds bad blood in the Son, so that he now determines with himself to work his revenge on his Mother, and his own advantage by the same villainous act; for was she but dispatched, he should then be sole Lord of all her Wealth and Fortune, which might induce Romea and Carolla to accept of his affection: To which purpose he provides himself with Poison, which he still carries about him, waiting an opportunity to administer it.  
Bernardo's return to his former lewd courses so distempers his Mother, that she falls sick of a burning Fever, to allay the heat whereof she caused some Almond-milk to be made her, in which were infused several cooling Herbs, and drinks thereof three times a day. On the fourth day of her sickness, walking in the afternoon in her Garden, she was suddenly surprised with the symptom of her Fever; when sitting down, she caused her Maid to hold her head, and prayed her Son to fetch her a Bottle of Almond-milk, which the did, and in the way poured the poison into it, which he gave her, who drank plentifully of it; but on a sudden a cold sweat overspread her face, she looked pale, and ready to faint away called for a Chair, in which they carried her to her Chamber, and laid her on the Bed, where few hours after she died in great torture, and is by her Son and Servants coffined up, and (with all the counterfeit signs of immoderate grief) buried by her ungracious Son.  
The News of Ursina's death was soon known at Orleans, where Romeo and Carolla hearing of it, exceedingly lamented and sorrowed for her. Carolla being now grown marriageable, in regard of her excellent Perfections and great Estate, (for she was now declared sole Heir to her Uncle Romeo) was courted by many Noble Gentlemen; but her Uncle at last privately married her to Monsieur Le Berdu, a rich young Gentleman who was Nephew and Heir to the Bishop of Orleance·  
Let us now return to Bernardo, who desperately gave himself over to all Vices, consuming all his time in licentious Riots, in the midst of which follies he remembers Carolla: wherefore putting himself and Servants into very rich Equipage, he road over to Orleans, where he became an importunate Suitor to Romeo and Carolla, but all in vain; yet he obstinately persists, which made Romeo tell him in plain terms, That his Niece was married, and that in consideration thereof he forbid him his house and h●r company. This unkindness Bernardo took so ill, that in his rage he swore he would murder Romeo; and then considering the safest way, determined to shoot him with his Carbine as he walked in his Garden, which he constantly did every morning and evening alone. Thus resolved, he went in disguise at six in the evening to a small Tavern, where the Chamber-windows looked into Romeo's Garden, and pretending to stay for a friend, called for some Wine: then bolting the Chamber-door, he opens the Casement, and sees Romeo walking in his Garden; he le's fly at him, and shot him into the breast with a brace of Bullets, and Romeo after ●hree shrieks fell down dead.  
As soon as this was done, he endeavoured to make his escape, but by the immediate Judgement of Heaven he was presently struck in a stupefied swoon, and fell to the ground. The noise of that and his Gun caused the people below to come up, who finding the Chamber-door bolted, imagined he had shot himself; when forcing open the door, they found him groveling on the ground, upon which they took him and pulled off his clothes to search for his wounds, but found none. After an hour he opened his eyes, and with a distracted look and amazed countenance, rather raving than speaking, in the heat of his madness he cried out, I have murdered Romeo! I have murdered Romeo! which he often repeated. By this time the dead body of Romeo was found in the Garden; and search being made for the murderer, and seeing his Horse at the door of the Tavern, they went up stairs, where they found Bernardo in bed. The people of the house being examined, they reported what they knew, as also his confession that he had murdered Romeo; whereupon he was apprehended, and the next morning arraigned, when he forswore his former Confession: but the Judges, to extort the truth, condemn him to the Rack, where at the first torments he again confesses all, for which he was sentenced the next day to be beheaded; and being brought to the Scaffold, there confessed the murder of his Mother Ursina by poison: His first sentence was executed upon him, and (as an addition of punishment for his Mother's death) his body was burnt, and the ashes thrown into the River Arno.  Thus we see by miserable Bernardo, that he who ripens in wickedness as he grows in years, shall at last reap the bitter fruits of his own Debaucheries; for he that slights the Grace of God here, shall never taste his Mercy hereafter.  

HIST. IX. De Bushie and La Valere.  
St. Quintin is killed in a Duel by Moreni. Pharamont hires Prochier the Apothecary for 300 Crowns to poison his Brother De Bushie. Prochier falls down the stairs, and breaks his neck. Pharamont first debauches Lucia, and then hires Mariot a Miller to strangle her, which he does, and throws her body into the Millpond, for which he is broke on the Wheel, and Pharamont beheaded and burnt.  
AT Rouen in Normandy of late years there dwelled a rich and noble Gentleman called Monsieur De Bertue, who had two Sons; his eldest was Monsieur Pharamont, and the younger Monsieur De Bushie, both hopeful Gentlemen. De Bushie being at Christmas-time at a friends house at Curant, (10 Leagues from Rouen) saw a young Gentlewoman infinitely fair and beautiful, called Madamoyselle La Valere, whom he liked and loved so dearly, that he resolved to make all his courtship to her, which he so handsomely and discreetly managed, that at last she consented to love him; but withal entreated him to conceal her affection, till he had made his application to her Father, and gained his good will. De Bushie in few days after made a visit to Monsieur De Moulin her Father, who lived at Curant, acquaints him with his Suit, and begs his consent. But he not relishing the motion, returned De Bushie a very cold answer, upon which he civilly took his leave, and the next week went home to Rouen, and acquainted his Father and Mother with his affection to La Valere, which they approving of, he prayed his Father to ride over to Curant, to confer with Monsieur De Moulin about this affair: but De Bertue being seized with a sudden fit of the Gout, ordered his elder Brother Pharamont to bear him company, and in his name to treat with De Moulin. Pharamont and De Bushie nobly attended, with a Letter from their Father to De Moulin, took horse and rid to Curant, where being arrived, Pharamont delivered his Father's Letter; and after a short conference with De Moulin, in which he discovered his Brother's affection to Valere: he addressed himself to her, whilst De Moulin and De Bushie took a walk in the Garden. Having this opportunity of a private discourse, after he had obliged her to secrecy, told her, That tho' he came over to Curant his Brother's Advocate, yet her powerful Charms had already captivated his heart, and his passion for her now obliged him to make use of all his Oratory in his own behalf; and tho' his Brother had the honour to see her first, yet his love (he hoped) deserved not least regard, or the last place in her affections. La Valere incensed with this unexpected discourse, with a frown told him, That this was not only an ignoble Ingratitude, but a base Treachery▪ and therefore know (says she) that I undervalue you, as much as I highly prise your Brother: and so with a countenance which showed both anger and disdain, left him alone, who presently went to her Father, and in fair terms informed him of his love to his Daughter, a●●uring him of the sincerity of his affection to her, and that he covered nothing in the world more than to be happy in the enjoyment of her.  
Old De Moulin approves Pharamond's motion, but was unwilling to displease De Bushie, yet overswayed with ambition, calls his Daughter into his Closet, and bids her leave De Bushie to love Pharamont; but she positively refused it, telling him that she had already made her choice, which she would not alter for any worldly advantage. Pharamont contriving how to deceive his Brother, told him, that tho' he found La Valere inclinable, De Moulin was altogether averse, nor could he ever hope to gain his consent; and therefore (says he) let us go home to morrow, which was agreed to. But La Valere (who had well considered the base treachery of Pharamont) resolves to give her De Bushie a private meeting, and at night sent for him to her Chamber, bid him be cheerful, and that in life and death she will be his, and only his, and that she would send him a Letter to Rouen, which should acquaint him with a business her tongue was obliged to conceal. So after all the promises of constancy and fidelity, they parted, and as a pledge of their mutual kindness, he presented her with a Diamond-Ring, and she gave him a pair of Pearl Bracelets.  
The next morning De Moulin took De Bushie aside, and in short terms prayed him to forbear his house, and refrain his Daughter's company, for he had provided another Husband for her. After a solemn leave, the Brothers took horse, and returned home. La Valere remembering her promise to De Bushie, two days after his departure sent him this Letter.  
La Valere, to De Bushie.  
MY promise owes you this Letter, wherein I must acquaint you, that I know not whether you have greater cause to love Me, or hate your Brother, in regard he vows he loves me dearer than yourself, and hath attempted to rob you of your Wife, which (if I mistake not) is base Treachery in him. I have heard his Courtship, but for your sake hate both It and Himself. He hath won my Father, but be assured that he neither can nor shall prevail with me; and tho' my Father hath banished you his house, yet his Daughter is resolved to retain you in her heart, and you alone.  
La Valere.  
De Bushie having received this Letter, was passionately incensed against his Brother Pharamont; but discretion at last took place, and he resolved to hide his resentments, and dissemble his anger, and immediately returned her many thanks for her courtesy and constancy. Pharamont three days after privately went over to Curant, where he renews his suit to her with all the earnestness and vigour of a passionate Lover: but Lafoy Valere seemed absolutely averse, and without hopes to prevail, returned sorrowfully to Rouen. But tho' Pharamont endeavoured De Bushie should know nothing of his journey to Curant, La Valere next day gave him word thereof by a second Letter.  
La Valere, to De Bushie.  
I Hold myself obliged in duty and affection to acquaint you, that these two days I have been importunately solicited by your unkind Brother for Marriage: but he hath found my first to be my last answer. I hope I have blasted all his endeavours, by giving him and my Father this infallible resolution, either to wed You, or my Grave; and I believe they will be satisfied without giving me further trouble: But if your Brother shall still pursue his fruitless addresses, I will beg on my knees to my Father to hasten our marriage. And this is my positive resolution.  
La Valere.  
De Bushie kissed this last testimony of his dear Ladies most tender affection, but frets inwardly at his Brother's malice, whereof he is resolved to tax him, but first returns her ten thousand thanks for her inviolable affection, and went to find out his Brother, whom he finds feignedly sick, when Pharamont (as it were rejoicing at his presence) told him, That his tender love to La Valere had reduced him to that extremity, and therefore conjured him for the saving of his life to quit his pretensions to her, and resign up all his interest to him: At which impudent request De Bushie was so enraged, that in indignation and disdain he called him base and treacherous, and vowed to die before he would consent to such a thought; and (without any other farewell) hastily flew out of hi● Chamber.  
Pharamont swore he would make his Brother repe●● his saucy carriage; whereupon three days after, understanding his Brother to be at Charron, he sent Monsieur St. Quintin, his particular Friend, (whom he had engaged to be his Second) to him with this Challenge.  
Pharamont, to De Bushie.  
IN regard we cannot both enjoy the fair La Valere to Wife▪ it is fit that one of us should die, that the survivor may be enriched with so precious a Treasure; which considering, as I have done your late uncivil carriage towards me, I find it not strange to see Affection to give a law to Nature▪ wherefore I invite Thee with thy Second to meet me and min● with single Rapiers on foot to morrow at three after dinner, in the Meadow next to St. Vallery. I shall as impatiently expect your coming, as I do my revenge.  
Pharamont.  
De Bushie smiled hereat, and bid St. Quintin tell his Brother he would not fail to meet him; when turning to Monsieur Moreni his Friend, who sat by him, Pray (says he) read this, and give me your company to morrow; which he readily promised. The time being come, the Brothers and Seconds met in the field: The Principals first drew, and after three or four breathe, and several wounds, De Bushie ran Pharamont into the Sword-hand, and forced him to surrender his Sword, and beg his life, which he did, and the other as generously gave him. The Principals having thus ended the dispute, the Seconds drew near; but Moreni thought it no dishonour to refuse to fight, since his Principal had soiled his Enemy: but on the contrary St. Quintin was resolute, and would not by any arguments be persuaded, upon which they both drew, and at the third pass Moreni killed him dead in the field; a fit reward for his boasting temerity.  
The News of this Duel was presently known to their Father and Mother, nor was it long before it arrived at Curant, where De Moulin grieves, but Lafoy Valere rejoices at Pharamond's foil, and taking advantage thereof, with tears and prayers gained her Father's consent, so that in a short time she was solemnly married to De Bushie in great state and splendour.  
Pharamont, tho' he had received his life from his Brother's hand, still continues his ingratitude to him, and reviving his lustful desires to La Valere, (whom he could not possibly enjoy so long as his Brother lived) he therefore resolves to get him poisoned, and to that end offers Prochier his Brother's Apothecary 300 Crowns to do it, which he undertook, and performed in this manner.  
De Bushie six weeks after his marriage found himself inclinable to a Fever, for prevention whereof he sent for Prochier (his Apothecary) to open a vein, which he did, and towards night gave him a Clyster, wherein he infused strong poison, which so operated, that the next morning he died in his bed. La Valere passionately laments, and is wholly dissolved in tears at the sudden death of her Husband; and amongst other Relations who came to comfort her, Pharamont was one, whom she both slighted, and shrewdly suspected to have a hand in his murder, but in what manner she was not able to discover. Her year of mourning being out, she had many Suitors, amongst whom she made choice of Monsieur Moreni for her second Husband, and was publicly married to him. Pharamont seeing himself thus slighted, turns his love into hatred, and gives himself over to the company of Whores and Strumpets, and leaves no sin unpractised that his wicked heart desires, or his lustful eyes can see.  
Amongst others, hearing of a Farmer's Daughter 7 miles from R●an that was fair and young▪ he resolved to tempt her to his obscene desires, and riding over saw and liked her, and laid close siege to her Chastity; which her Mother observing in his frequent visits, fearing the worst, forbids him her house, saying, that if he persisted, she would acquaint his Father with it; at which he was much troubled, but remembering an old Friar named Simplician, he thought him a fit instrument to gain Lucia (for so was she called;) to consent to his lewd embraces, which for a reward he undertook, and accomplished. It was agreed between them, that Pharamont should fetch her away in the night to his old Nurse's house, where he secretly kept her till he had surfeited his lustful desires with repeated pleasures.  
Lucia's Father and Mother very much grieved for the loss of their only Child; and suspecting Pharamont to have stole her, complained to his Father and Mother, who sent for, and very strictly examined him; but he denied all, and called the old Woman Hag, to charge him with stealing of her Daughter: Thus without any redress did they return home, and Pharamont to Lucia's arms, where we shall leave him to speak of Prochier.  
Pharamont (as was formerly said) hating La Valere, hired Prochier likewise for 300 Crowns more to poison her, which he speedily promised to perform. About two months after her second marriage, she fell sick of a pestilential Fever: Moreni her Husband sent for Prochier the Apothecary, who having drawn six ounces of blood from her, intended next morning to give her Physic, wherein should be infused the Poison; but as he was taking his leave on the top of the stairs, and complementing with Moreni, his foot tripped, and he fell down headlong, and broke his neck. Pharamont hearing thereof, was neither glad nor sorry, but spent all his time in revelling with Lucia, so that it was now publicly known he kept her, whereof her Father and Mother being informed, they went again to Pharamond's Father, beseeching him to restore them their Daughter; He promised his assistance, and gave them leave to search all his Tenants houses; which Pharamont hearing of about midnight he ordered Mercot his Father's Miller to fetch Lucia from her Nurses to the Mill-house, where at length she proved with child, when seeing her sad condition, she repented of her folly; especially since she saw her Lover Pharamont made not those frequent visits he was accustomed, and in his respects to her seemed more strange and reserved than usual. But alas! poor wretch, she knew no way to remedy it, but by the common cure of Patience.  
Pharamont now deals with the Miller to marry Lucia, but he downright refused it, and poor Lucia besought him either to provide her a Husband, or permit her to go home. Pharamont (who now loathed her more than ever he loved her) first absented himself from her company, and afterwards plainly refused to see her. She exclaims at his ingratitude, prays Mercot to speak to his young Master in her behalf. Mercot finds him out, but instead of comfort, they conclude to murder her, which Mercot undertakes for the Fee-simple of his Mill, and within three days with a small Cord steals into her Chamber, and strangles her; when carrying her to the Mill-boat in the Pond, he fastened a piece of a Millstone with a strong new Rope to her middle, and sunk the body in the deepest part of the Pond. The next morning away goes the Miller to tell his young Master what he had done, who were both overjoyed at the success of their Villainy.  
A month was scarce passed, when Moreni (Lafoy Valere's second Husband) with some other Gentlemen his Friends had a mind to hunt a Duck, and made choice of this very Millpond for their sport; where the Duck and two Dogs are no sooner in, but coming to the place where Lucia was sunk and tied, they le●t the Duck, and howled and barked at each other, without stirring thence; which the Gentlemen observing, they presently imagined that some body was drowned there; but before they proceed to search, they intent to make a second trial after dinner, and for that time called off their Spaniels. At their return the Dogs do as they did in the morning, which confirms their jealousy, so they desired to draw up the Sluice, and let the water out of the Pond, which the guilty Miller refused to do, upon which the Gentlemen seemed to desist, and went into the Mill to play at Cards for Wine, which the Miller offered to fetch from the Town, (there being none nearer) and when he was gone, they drew up the Sluice, and by that time the water was half out, they saw the dead body float, but the face was so mangled and disfigured by the Fish, it was impossible to know the person. They all concluded the Miller guilty, whom they apprehended at his return, and shut him up in his Mill till the body was owned, which not long after happened by her Father and Mother, who knew her clothes, and affirmed it to be their Daughter Lucia.  
M●reni rid to Rouen, and acquainted the Judges with this deplorable fact, who sent for the Miller, and examined him of the same murder, which he denied and forswore, whereupon he was ordered to the Rack, at sight whereof he confessed himself to be the sole author and actor in this murder, and spoke not a word of Pharamont; whereupon he was adjudged to the Scorpions, to know if any person was accessary with him: but he not able to endure the cruelty of that torment, confessed that his young Master Monsieur Pharamont hired him to strangle Lucia, for which he gave him the Fee-simple of his Mill.  
Upon this Mercot was condemned to be broken alive on the Wheel; but execution was deferred till Pharamont was taken, who was then gone to Morleaux: At his return he was suddenly apprehended and imprisoned, and upon hearing his Indictment read, and Mercot's Confession, presently acknowledged the Fact, for which he was condemned the next day to be beheaded; when mounting the Scaffold, he first publicly owned the murder of Lucia, and then confessed he hired Prochier to poison his Brother De Bushie, and had contracted with him for three hundred Crowns more to poison La Valere which he had effected, had not Providence preserved her by punishing him with so sudden a death. For which he heartily craved pardon of God, and then his Head was chopped off, and his Body for his Brother's death burnt to Ashes. Mercot was broken on the Wheel, and Prochier's dead Body digged out of the Grave, and in the Coffin burnt by the common Hangman▪ and his ashes thrown into the Air.  So strong is the deadly poison of Revenge, that it breaks through all ties of Friendship, bonds of Relation, and rules of Religion. The desperate Pharamont, to satisfy his malice, murders his Brother, and to please his unchaste desires, first r●bs Lucia of her Virtue, and then of her life; for which his Body suffers the punishment of the Law, and his Name perpetual Infamy.  

HIST. X. Formoso and Almira.  
Almira twice attempts to poison her own Sister Corinna, by the means of her waiting woman Doria: but being both times disappointed, she hires Nicon an Empiric to poison Doria. Almira is killed with a Thunderbolt, and Nicon hanged. Corinna, to revenge her Lover Formoso's death, murders her Brother Puteoli, for which she dies immured.  
AT Lisbon (the chief City in Portugal) lived Don Sebastian Florenzo a Nobleman, great both by Blood and Revenues; he married the virtuous Donna Andrada, (a Lady of eminent Quality and Perfections) by whom he had one Son called Don Puteoli, and two Daughters, Donna Almira, and Donna Corinna. Don Puteoli (whose Education was abroad) in his travels acquaints himself with Don Formoso de Castello, a Gentleman of refined conversation and courtly behaviour. Puteoli, that he might perpetuate the friendship which was thus happily begun with Formoso, invites him to Lisbon to his Father's house, proposing a marriage with his eldest Sister Almira. Formoso very courteously embraced his offer, and went with him, where he was generously received by Don Sebastian his Father, and saw his two Daughters, the stately Almira, and matchless Corinna, but with different sentiments, for Corinna the youngest had already taken possession of his heart, where the other had not made the least impression; whereupon Formoso made his court to Corinna, and desires her in marriage of her Father; which he refuses, but offers him the eldest, alleging that he would give her the same preference that Nature had done, who as she was his eldest, should be first disposed of.  
However Formoso persists in his love to Corinna, and continues his suit to her Father, which Puteoli earnestly (but in vain) solicits for him; so obstinately resolved was Don Sebastian in behalf of Almira, that he was forced to take leave of his beloved Corinna; when the faithful Lovers mutually expressed their kind endearments to each other, and vowed eternal constancy. Formoso civilly took his leave of Sebastian and Puteoli, and returned to his Castle ten leagues from Lisbon at Villamont, and in this recess made it his only comfort to converse with Corinna by Letters, which were secretly conveyed to her, and hers to him, by his faithful Page Honorio, who making love to Doria, Almira's Woman, passed unsuspected.  
The frequent visits of Honorio at last raised jealousy and mistrust in Almira, who suspected they were only pretended to Doria, whilst in reality they were designed to Corinna, whereupon she ordered Doria to sound him, but Honorio would not make any discovery; but at last an unhappy accident did that for her which all her artifice and cunning could not attain: for one Sunday-morning, when Corinna was walking in the Garden, Almira went into her Chamber to see for a little Book, which not finding where she expected, she put her hand into her Sister's pocket of the Gown she wore the day before, and instead of that pulls out Formoso's last Letter to Corinna, which she shows to her Father, who was very much concerned at it, and severely checked Corinna for entertaining a private correspondence with Formoso▪ and to prevent it for the future, strictly confined her to her Chamber.  
But this was not satisfaction enough to Almira, who (rather than lose Formoso) resolves to poison her Sister; to which end she hires Doria with 100 ducats, and the promise of as many more, to undertake it: Doria agreed to it, and accordingly sent an unknown messenger for it, who presently returned with it in a small Galley-pot, Doria intending to make use of it that very night, but Honorio's visit prevented her, who finding her in the Garden, they sat down in the Arbour, and in the midst of their discourse Honorio's nose fell a bleeding, and not readily pulling out his handkerchief, she hastily pulls out hers, and with it the Galley-pot of Poison, which falling upon a stone, immediately broke, and the baneful Doses was licked up by Honorio's Spaniel, who presently swelled and died before them. At this they were both amazed, but especially Doria, who knew not what excuse to make, or how to palliate her wicked Design; for Honorio pressed to know for whom this Poison was prepared, she gave him uncertain answers, which made him the more inquisitive, so that at last he prevailed with her to discover the naked truth, that her Mistress Almira had hired her therewith to poison Corinna.  
Honorio no sooner saw this, but he informed Corinna privately of it, praying her to be careful of herself, for fear they might be more successful in a second attempt, which no doubt the malice and wickedness of Almira would prompt her to. Honorio pretending his Father had suddenly sent for him, (who lay dangerously ill) took his leave of Doria, promising in a short time to see her again, who confidently trusting to the counterfeit love of Honorio, believed her design was no ways discovered to Corinna. Honorio having privately received a Letter from Corinna, (which in part acquainted Formoso with the villainous mischief of Almira to her, recommending him for the rest to his Page, who would give a fuller account) went hastily back, and gave his Master the Letter, and a large relation of the whole matter. Formoso reading the Letter over again, and pondering upon it, (especially that part where she told him she could be no longer safe in her Father's house, and therefore desired him to protect her Life and Honour, which she hoped to secure by his favourable assistance) assured her of it in another by Honorio, and that he would be ready at the Garden door the next night at twelve, and the signal to be a lighted Candle in her window to him, and the discharge of his Pistol to her.  
In the mean time Almira urged Doria to the performance of her promise, which she assured her of in three days, and to that end a second potion of Poison is prepared: in the mean while Honorio returned, and delivered his Master's Letter to Corinna, who is now busy in packing up her Jewels and richest Apparel; when Almira pretending to go to bed ill, sent Doria with a sweet Posset to Corinna, desiring her to eat the rest, of which she had already taken her share. Corinna very kindly received it, and entreating Doria to fetch her Prayer-book and Gloves out of her Sister's Chamber, poured out the Posset into a Basin in her Closet, and washing the Cup put Almond-milk into it, which at Doria's return she drank up, and dismissed her. Not long after Honorio came privately to Corinna's Chamber, where she related to him this second attempt, which they concluded to experiment upon Almira's Parrot, which was then in Corinna's Chamber, the Bird immediately swelled and died. They laid the dead Parrot upon the Table, and upon the report of Formoso's Pistol, (which they soon after heard) Honorio took up her Trunk, and they went softly down the stairs to the Garden-door, where (to her great joy) she found Formoso with a Coach and six ready to attend her to his Castle at Villam●nt.  
Next morning Almira hopes to entertain herself with the pitiful out-cries for her Sister's death: but being deceived, about ten a clock (according to her custom) she went up with Doria to her Sister's Chamber, where instead of her Sister, she found her Parrot dead on the Table. They looked fearfully on one another; but hearing that Honorio was also gone, they concluded C●rinna was fled with Formoso, upon which Almira immediately alarms her Father and Mother with the News, who dispatched away a messenger to Villamont to inquire the truth, who brought word she was there.  
Don Sebastian being then ill of the Gout, sent his Son Don Puteoli, with six other resolute Gentlemen, to remand her, and take satisfaction of Formoso for and indignity he had offered him. Puteoli arriving at Villamont, made his demands of her, and assured him that his Father and himself would have her at what rate soever. Formoso gave him a positive denial, and urged for reasons the two attempts Almira had made against her life, which his Castle should protect. Almira now suspecting that her designs against her Sister were discovered, by her Father's examination of her to that purpose, and fearing that Doria might confirm their suspicions by an open and plain discovery, hired Nicon an Empiric for 200 ducats to poison her, which in few days he performed. Whilst this was acting at Lisbon by Almira, her Brother is endeavouring a more honourable satisfaction at Villamont from Formoso, who had now received express orders from his Father, Either by point of Law or dint of Sword to bring back Corinna; whereupon he sent his Cousin Don Morellos to Formoso for his last resolution, who gave him the same answer as before: Upon this, Puteoli reflecting upon the Honour of his Family, and his own Reputation, which lay both at stake, resolves to regain her by arms; and making choice of Morelloes for his Second, the next morning sent him to Don Formoso's Castle with this Challenge.  
Puteoli, to Formoso.  
I Must either return my Sister to Lisbon, or lose my life here at Villamont, for I had rather die than see her dishonour, which so nearly reflects upon myself. It is not I who have first violated the bonds of friendship, but yourself, who is both the author and sole cause thereof: wherefore of two things resolve on one, either to morrow at six in the morning to render me my Sister Corinna, or at that hour meet me on foot with your Second in the square green Meadow under your own Castle, where the choice of two Rapiers shall attend you. If thou art honourable, thou wilt grant my first, and if generous, thou canst not deny my second request.  
Puteoli.  
Don Formoso received and accepted the Challenge, and choosing a near Relation of his named Don Leforto for his Second, they met and fought at the place appointed. At the third close Formoso was run through the heart, at which first staggering he soon after dropped down dead, and immediately after Don Le Forto had the same fate. The Criminal Judges had presently notice of this Combat, whereupon Puteoli and Morellos were apprehended, but by the great interest of their Friends procured their pardon. Puteoli being now at liberty, went again to the Castle and demanded his Sister, which was utterly denied him, upon which he applied himself to the Judges, who granted him an armed Power, wherewith he forced the Castle, and took his Sister away (all in tears and mourning for her dear Formoso) and returned her to his Father, for which and the death of Formoso, she vowed a severe revenge upon him. At her return her Sister Almira earnestly desired to be reconciled to her, and privately confessed her former malice, for which she was now heartily sorry, and begged her pardon.  
Doria had a Sister named Maretta, who having been particularly acquainted with the two Ladies Almira and Corinna, invites them to her wedding: Corinna excused herself, but Almira promised her company. The day being come, Almira went in her Father's Coach very splendid and rich in Jewels: but whilst they were on their way a sudden Tempest arose, with loud peals of Thunder, when after a terrible crack the fatal bolt pierced through her breast, and almost killed her in her Coach: at the fright whereof her waiting Maids and Coachman returned home with her, who was put to bed, and finding she could not live, confessed that she had twice attempted to poison her Sister Corinna by her Woman Doria, and had afterwards hired Nicon for 200 ducats to poison Doria, which he performed, whereof she heartily repent, and so died.  
The Criminal Judges being acquainted with this, they sent their Officers to apprehend Nicon, whom they found very merry at the Wedding-house, and (notwithstanding all his endeavours to escape) took him coming out, and committed him close Prisoner. In the afternoon being put to the Rack, he confessed all the circumstances of the murder, for which next morning he was hanged over-against Don Sebastian's house, on a Gibbet erected on purpose.  
In the mean while Corinna's desire of revenge had armed her with a large sharp knife, which hiding under her sleeve, with her Lute in her hand (about ten days after her Sister's death) early in the morning she went into her Brother's Chamber, and finding him fast asleep, with her Knife cut his throat so suddenly, that he could neither cry nor speak, and stabbing him seven times in the body, retired to her Chamber. As she went out, she was met by her Brother's Page, who went directly into his Master's Chamber, where he found him murdered in his bed, at which, with his loud out-cries he raised the house, who seeing this bloody spectacle, went in search of the murderer; but finding none to suspect, the Page said he met Corinna coming out, as he entered his Master's Chamber, who was easily apprehended, but peremptorily denied it. The next morning she was brought to the Rack, but seemed not at all daunted. In this interim the Servants having searched every corner of the Room, and Corinna's Chamber; in the Close-stool they found the murdering Knife wrapped in her bloody Gown, which being brought before the Judges, at the ●ight of it she confessed the fact, and begged for mercy, but notwithstanding was condemned to be hanged in the public Marketplace; but by the mediation of her Friends her sentence was altered, and she was sentenced to be shut up between two Walls, and there with a slender Diet to end the remainder of her days. This Judgement was executed upon her, but in few days a violent Fever put a period to her miserable life.  Thus did disgrace and misery eclipse the lustre of this Noble Family, through the Father's obstinacy and perverseness: Hente let all Parents be warned to bear an indulgent tenderness towards their Children, whilst they are to pay a dutiful regard to all their lawful commands.  

HIST. XI. Briant and Lauretta.  
Monsieur Ferio a rich Merchant is poisoned in his Inn by Father Constantine a Priest, and Briant the Innkeeper, and his body buried in the Garden, where a month after a Wolf digs it up, and devours part of it; upon which the Murderers are discovered by their ●light, apprehended and hanged.  
A Rich Merchant of Tours in France named Monsieur Ferio, being of sixty years of age or upwards, having been at Venice, where he received 2000 Checchines, and not meeting with a speedy and convenient return for his money, he carried it in a Cloak-bag behind him, and some Jewels of great value which he had bought for the Duchess of Orleans, in a private leathern Girdle next his skin.  
As he travelled on his way, he chanced to fall ill, and having for two or three days contended with his sickness, it now overcame him, and finding himself weak, and unable to travel further, he got into a poor Countrey-Tavern on the Highway, where he took up his Lodgings for that night: The next morning (not liking his Lodging, and doubting his safety there, in a loansom place) he took his Horse, and about 2 of the clock after dinner came to Dieren, and went into the very first Inn he came to at the Towns-end, where his Host's name was Briant, and his Wife Lauretta. Briant was a debauched fellow, and addicted to all manner of lewdness, poor, and of mean Parentage, but his Wi●e well descended, with whom he had 2000 Crowns in marriage, all which he had spent in Luxury and Riot.  
Into this House, and to this vicious Host Briant, entered poor sick De Ferio for the recovery of his health: He liked his Hostess very well, but not his Host; however, he prays him to procure him a Physician, which he did, Monsieur Morat, who seeing his Water, and feeling his Pulse, let him blood, to prevent a burning Fever, and still gave him new hopes of recovery, tho' the Patient complained he was rather worse than better. Lauretta tended him diligently, and performed both the duty of a good Hostess and a good Woman: but her Husband imagining De Ferio to be rich, hoped and prayed that he might speedily die in his house, and if he does not, resolves to kill him by one means or other. De Ferio's sickness increasing upon him to the despair of his life, he entreated Briant to bring him a Priest to give him the Sacrament, which he did, named Father Constantine, a person as notorious in all vicious courses as himself, and one whose prodigality had made very poor. To this wicked wretch, Briant (having first endeavoured to draw his Wife Lauretta to be concerned in it, who peremptorily and constantly refused it) on a Monday-morning reveals his bloody purpose, which he readily consented to, provided what Gold, Silver, or Jewels they should find about him might be equally divided between them, which was consented to; so, solemnly swearing to one another not to discover their design, they parted.  
At night they met again to consider of the manner and time when they should perpetrate this Murder: the safest way was agreed to be by Poison, which Briant should buy, and Constantine administer in a Wafer which he used sometimes to give him in his sickness: And as it were the better to favour their Devilish design, word is unexpectedly brought that Lauretta's Father (who lived four leagues off) was dangerously sick and like to die, whereupon Briant with all hast dispatched away his Wife to him and her Maid joanna. De Ferio was much troubled at his Hostess' departure, in whom he reposed all his trust and confidence; and finding himself every day worse than other, began to suspect his safety as well as recovery: for he often observed his Landlord and the Priest whispering together, and saw some fatal apparitions in their faces which told him all was not well: This afflicted him day and night with new cause of despair.  
However, he still concealed his Gold and Jewels from his Host and the Priest, but feared their jealousy and hopes of it would hasten his end: But so cunning was Constantine, that he would not murder him till he knew what would be the reward of his villainy, and what Wealth he had about him; wherefore he advised him to send for his Son to Tours, and proffered himself in person to carry a Letter, and deliver it with his own hand. De Ferio thanked him, and told him he had rather trouble his Host with it, if he would bear him company in the mean time, which was agreed. The next morning De Ferio gave Briant this Letter, and four double Pistols to defray his charges to his Son Du M●nt at Tours, praying him to bring his Son back with him, with all possible speed.  
De Ferio, to Du Mont.  
SEven weeks since coming from Venice, I fell sick at Dieren, where I lie very weak in the house of my Host Briant, the bearer hereof, whom I purposely send to command you to come over to me with all haste. I have here with me 2000 Checchines, and some jewels of value for the Duchess of Orleans, and I fear that neither it nor my life is safe here. Come away with intent to find me either dead or dying▪ Conceal this Letter from all the world. Love this Messenger, but trust him not. God prosper my health, and ever bless you with prosperity.  
De Ferio.  
Briant having this Letter, pretends to take leave, and Father Constantine in civility goes to see him take Horse; but instead thereof they went into the Parlour, and bolting the door opened the Letter, and satisfied with the discovery by the contents, resolved to make that ensuing night his last, so they burned the Letter, and Briant privately hushed himself up in his own house from the sight of all the world. Father Constantine went back to De Ferio, who was infinitely troubled in mind, fearing that his death was already plotted, and blaming his indiscretion in mentioning in the Letter what sum he had, which if they should come to the knowledge of, might tempt them to commit some violence upon him. And now was the fatal hour come, for about midnight De Ferio waking out of a troubled slumber, prayed Constantine to give him a little warm Wine in a small earthen Pot he used to drink in: Constantine glad of this opportunity, mixed the Poison with it, and gave it him to drink, which he innocently did, and died therewith two hours after: But for fear he should make any noise in the last agonies of death, these two Devils with Bedstaffs rammed a great holland Towel down his throat. This was no sooner done, but they cut open his Cloak-bag, where they found a great quantity of Gold and Silver, and searching further, they discovered the leathern Girdle about his waist, in which were quilted the Jewels and several pieces of Gold, which they presently divided, and in a great fire burnt his clothes, and every thing that belonged to him, and turned his Horse lose into the Fields to seek a new Master: so cautious they were in their villainy! By this time the Corpse was grown cold, which (digging a Grave in Briant's Garden) they buried, and covered the place with green Turfs so artificially, that no mortal eye could discover it.  
Three weeks after, Briant sent for his Wife home, who wondering to see her Husband so gallant in new clothes, enquired after De Ferio, he told her that about ten days before he went from thence safe and well, and gave him 50 Crowns for his Lodging and Entertainment, and (as a token of his love for his care and kindness to him) 20 pieces of Gold more to himself, and as much to Father Constantine: but Lauretta fearing the worst, would not touch any part thereof.  
And now with wonder and admiration may we see the Justice of Heaven in the discovery of this cruel Murder: for the same day month De Ferio was buried, a huge Wolf seeking for his prey came into Briant's Orchard, and smelling dead Carrion, with his paws fiercely tore up the earth, and dragged up the dead body, and there continued till an hour after daylight, eating the flesh of his Arms, Thighs and Buttocks, but never touched any part of his face. Some Gentlemen being hunting in the field, their Dogs took the scent of the Wolf. and followed it into Briant's Orchard. But the Wolf terrified with the shouts of the Hunters, and cry of the Dogs, left his Prey and fled: when the Hunters coming in to see what the Wolf preyed upon, with great horror and amazement they saw the body of a man miserably mangled, which the Wolf had digged up from his untimely Grave. They presently suspected him to have been murdered by Briant, his Wife and Servants, and setting a Guard upon the house, they sent and acquainted the Criminal Judges with it.  
In the mean time Lauretta hearing so early and unusual a noise in the Yard, (her Husband lying abroad that night with his Strumpets) began to doubt the worst. By this time the Criminal Judges were come, and with them a multitude of people, amongst whom was the Physician Monsieur Morel, who knowing the dead body by the face, cried out it was De Ferio the Merchant who lay long sick in Briant's house, and he verily believed was murdered by him, and buried there. The Judges believing the report of this honest Physician, broke open the house, and seized Lauretta and her Maid joanna and the Ostler, who were brought to the body, and flatly charged with the Murder, which they as resolutely denied.  
Lauretta and her Maid both declared they believed it was the body of De Ferio, but called Heaven and Earth to witness they were innocent, and knew not who were the bloody authors of it: however they were all kept close Prisoners, while search was made after Briant, who lying that night at Father Constantine's house with two Courtesans, hearing the news of it, they fled together, upon which they were both adjudged guilty, and close pursuit made after them. The three Prisoners were all threatened with the Rack, the tortures of which the Ostler and joanna endured with wonderful constancy and patience (so great a comfort is it to be innocent!) but Lauretta, upon the good report of her Neighbours, was dispensed withal for that time, and all of them remanded to strict confinement.  
The Judges sent away post to Tours to advertise Du Mont of this disaster, who with all speed came to Dieren, where upon view he owned his Father's dead body, and with showers of tears decently interred him in the next Church. The Judges acquainted him with the manner of the discovery, the certain suspicion they had of Briant and Father Constantine, who were fled upon it, and that they had Lauretta his Wife, and her Maid and Ostler in Prison, that the two last had been put to the Rack, but would not confess any thing, but strongly justified their Innocence, and that Lauretta had so good a repute amongst all her Neighbours, that they exempted her from the torment.  
Eight days were now past since these wretches first fled, in all which time they had not gone above seven leagues from Dieren, when on the tenth night being extremely tired, at the entrance of a Wood they spied a stray Horse grazing, and coming nearer to him, Briant knew him to be De Ferio's Horse: At this they were very jovial, and making a Halter of their Girdles and Garters, they both mounted, hoping to recover St juan three miles off before night. But not being acquainted with the way, they wandered all night, and were now farther off than before: They feared every Bush was an Officer, and to add to their trouble their Horse began to tyre, when alighting by turns to ease him, they took the nearest way, and hoped to get thither before people were up, it being yet early in the morning. Providence directing Du Mont the same way, within a mile of St. juan he overtook them, and eyeing the Horse well, knew him to be his Fathers, or very like him, and what more confirmed his suspicion was, that one of the two persons was a Priest, and the other much resembled the description that was given of Briant. He now and then made a halt, by pretending to mend his Bridle, or better girt his Saddle, that they might keep before him. Coming now to St. juan, they went in at the Sign of the White Lion. where he followed them, without seeming to take notice of hem, but as soon as they were gone into a Room, he sent to the Criminal Officers and apprehended these two persons, upon suspicion that they were the same who fled, and by all circumstances were guilty of his Father's murder. They confidently denied it, but in searching their Pockets they found store of Gold about them, and several pieces more, with some Jewels, quilted in their Doublets, which confirmed them in their belief that they were the persons, and were really guilty. The Prisoners the next day with a strong Guard were sent over to Dieren, where they were again examined, and still as impudently denied it, upon which they were both adjudged to the Rack, and at the first wrench Father Constantine confessed the murder in all its circumstances, and affirmed that Briant and himself were the sole actors, and Lauretta, joanna and the Ostler absolutely innocent and ignorant of it. The like did Briant after some time, upon which the others were acquitted and discharged, and Constantine and Briant condemned to be hanged next morning and their bodies burnt to ashes, which was executed accordingly. The remainder of De Ferio's Gold was restored to Du Mont, to the general satisfaction of all parties.  The Devil first tempts us with the delight of some forbidden pleasures, that he may draw us into more dangerous Crimes. Thus Constantine and Briant in their Luxury, Drunkenness and Whoredoms, only gave him earnest for some greater sin they were ready to commit upon as fair an invitation, which he offered in poor De Ferio, and they accepted, to their own Ruin and Destruction.  

HIST. XII. Leonardo and Cordelia.  
Leonardo basely murders Durel in the street. Cordelia, Durel's Mistress, betrays Leonardo to her Chamber, where she shoots, and by the assistance of her Maid Sabrina, kills him with a Poniard. Sabrina flies for the fact, and is drowned. Cordelia is apprehended, hanged and burnt.  
AT Montpelier in France dwelled Cordelia, a young Lady of greater Beauty than Wealth, adorned with many excellent Qualities and Perfections, but all were sullied by one Vice of Unchastity, which she was too frequently addicted to. She was now Mistress of her Person and Fortunes, (her Parents being dead) which was attended with the interment of her own Honour and Reputation. Amongst other Gallants who were her Enamorato's, she was particularly delighted with the company of Monsieur Leonardo, Nephew to the Duke of Turenne, a Gentleman of more Wealth and Discretion, who was absolutely bewitched to her, than spent whole days and nights in her Courtship and Entertainment. Leonardo not content to enjoy her favours in private, used often to make his boast how kind and obliging Cordelia had been to him; which she understanding, at their next meeting severely taxed him with it, and checked him for it; and as an argument of her high displeasure, forbid him her company, and vowed never to see him more. Leonardo was extremely grieved at this, but however continued his visits, and by all the sacred protestations imaginable endeavoured to purge himself of so malicious a scandal Cordelia, who did in part believe him, judging his Innocency by his Constancy, readmitted him to her favour, with most dreadful threats of a sharp revenge if he ever relapsed into the same Error.  
Much about this time Monsieur Durel, a brave young Gentleman, came to Montpelier, where he no sooner saw Cordelia, but he loved, admired, and was totally enamoured of her; but his Courtship was only a piece of Gallantry, not in the honourable way of Marriage. Cordelia, whose pretensions to Honour were as great as any bodies, was wholly averse and deaf to his requests. Her denial made him the more eager to contrive some means to attain his desires; which after he had in vain endeavoured, an unexpected accident presented him with, by Madamoyselle de Sinclere, a rich young Lady, who seeing him dance, fell in love with him, of which she gave many shrewd signs, that he could not but be sensible of it, though his heart was prepossessed with the Charms of Cordelia. Madam de Sinclere knowing that Cordelia was the cause of his indifferency to her, acquaints him that Cordelia was already engaged and Mistress to Monsieur Leonardo. This stings him to the heart, when confirmed by Sabrina, Cordelia's waiting woman, (whom he had gained by Gold to confess) that Leonardo was the only happy man there, but that he had like to have been discarded lately for a word he let fall to her dishonour. Durel hearing this, and being told that Leonardo was but a Coward, insinuates himself into his acquaintance, and becomes his most familiar and intimate Companion. Durel making use of this opportunity, contrives a match at Tennis with Leonardo for a Collation, and beats him; so taking Monsieur le Roch and Monsieur le Mot, they went to the Tavern, where they were very pleasant. Monsieur Durel in return of his civility invites the Company to sup with him at Le Hare's, who was famed to have the best Wine in Montpelier: After supper they drank plentifully, and now Durel laid his bait; O (says he) how happy are the Gentlemen of Italy, to us in France! they each of them after dinner go to their Courtesans without control. I believe (says Le Mot) Montpelier has as good-natured Girls as Italy. Ay (cried Leonardo) I am sure for Jews and Whores it may vie with any City in all Italy; for 'y Gad they are all right, from the Lady to the Kitchen-maid, they are all tractable. Nay (said Le Roch) except still our holy Sisters the Nuns. Not I (quoth Loonardo) nor my Mistress neither, and so names Cordelia. Durel had enough now, so their mirth ended, and the Company parted.  
Next morning Durel in a Letter by his Page informs Cordelia what Leonardo had said, which she received with grief, anger, and astonishment; and having returned her thanks to Durel, sent for Leonardo, whom she charges with what he had said the last night in the presence of Durel and other Gentlemen against her Honour and Chastity: at which she fell into such a rage, that she had certainly stabbed herself with a Penknife which lay upon the Table, had not Sabrina luckily diverted the blow. Leonardo (surprised at the violence of her passion) vows and swears he is innocent: She produces Durel's Letter against him, but he still denies and forswears it, which yet gave her no satisfaction, nor should all his protestations gain any credit with her, till he had vindicated her Honour and his Reputation against Durel in a Duel, who had so positively averred the truth. Leonardo, forced by Necessity, more than urged by Courage, three days after sent him this Letter by his Page.  
Leonardo, to Durel.  
THy malice and treachery to me is as odious as apparent; for whilst I sought to cherish thy friendship, it hath been thy study to betray mine, in sowing discord between me and Cordelia in a point of Honour; a Lady to whom I owe not only my Service, but my Life. Wherefore to morrow at five in the morning meet me with thy single Rapier, without Seconds, at the foot of the Bridge, where thy dearest Blood shall wash out the stains of my injured Reputation.  
Leonardo.  
Durel received the Challenge, and was amazed at his resolution; however he bid his Page tell his Master he would not fail to meet him at the time and place appointed. The morning is now come, which brings Leonardo by unwilling steps to the Bridge, and soon after came Durel: They both draw, and pass very furiously at each other; but Leonardo having received two wounds, throws down his Sword, and begs his life. Durel satisfied with this, goes to his Chamber, and Leonardo to his Surgeons. The news of this Duel was spread abroad by two Soldiers who saw them fight. Cordelia sends presently to Leonardo to know the truth, but he would not be spoken withal; wherefore just as she was sending to Durel, he prevented her by a visit in person, and after several Compliments told her, That he had given Leonardo two wounds for her sake, and his life for his own. At this she seemed much pleased, and here began the first intrigue of their Amours. Whilst Durel thus triumphs over his conquered Adversary, and sleeps secure in the arms of Cordelia, Madamoyselle de Sinclere grieves for his loss, and Leonardo vows his revenge; which the Sinclere understanding, out of pure love to Durel discovers it in a Letter, in which she both gives him a caution of Leonardo, and prays him to have a care of himself. But this was rather pastime than advice to Durel; yet his civility returned her thanks, tho' he continued as regardless of himself as ever. But Leonardo, whose revenge made him more watchful, hearing that he came often late from Cordelia's Lodgings, pretends to go to his Countryhouse ten leagues off, but returns within six days with none but his Lackey, and passes the Gates in disguise at the close of the evening, and goes to Cordelia's door, where he stands with his Sword ready, (having notice that Durel was there) and just as he came out into the street ran him through the body, and with a second pass killed him dead; and then returning to his Horse, upon the pretence of urgent business, and by giving the Watch some money, made his escape. By this time the murdered body was found, which being viewed by the Criminal Judges, they knew it to be Monsieur Durel's, and ordered a strict search to be made, but could not discover the murderer. But Cordelia was satisfied in her thoughts, and deeply swears that nothing shall atone for Durel's death but Leonardo's blood, who conscious of his own guilt flies to Paris, where amongst the multitude of people that daily throng thither, he hoped to conceal himself. Leonardo lives here in all profuseness and prodigality, and wholly devotes himself to his beloved sins of Whoring and Drinking, which in a short time so drained his pockets, that he was forced to leave Paris, and return home: to which he was the rather induced, by a fresh remembrance of Cordelia, whom he preferred to all the Beauties of Paris. Wherefore, the better to get re-admittance to her, he sent his Page with a Letter first, in which he gave a hint as if he had done her some considerable piece of service, extremely lamented the unhappy fate of Durel, and passionately desired to be reconcled to her good opinion. Cordelia received this Letter, and was very much pleased with it, to think how he was now plotting his own ruin, and to keep him in the same mind, sends him a Present and a Letter back by his own Page, wherein she tells him she longs to know what he had done for her, which she promises to reward with her most sincere love and tender affection.  
The receipt of this Letter gives wings to his desires, and early the next morning he sets forward for Montpelier, and the very first night he arrived there, made a visit to Cordelia, who desires they may be frequent, and outwardly expresses an extraordinary passion for him, and satisfaction in his company. The next day he comes again, when she desires to know what it was he had done for her, that she might make him a suitable acknowledgement. Leonardo swearing her to secrecy, tells her it was he who killed Durel, and the manner how. Cordelia dissembling her revenge, observing he had a Pistol in his pocket, asked him the reason he went so armed, who told her it was for his own defence. The next day he came again, upon promise of a further favour: in the mean time she had concluded upon his death, and had accordingly won Sabrina for a Purse of Gold to her assistance. After some discourse, Cordelia desired him to send away his Lackeys, for she resolved not to part with his company that night, which he accordingly did. At his return into the Chamber, he sat down upon the Couch, and laid his Pistol upon the Table; Cordelia took it up, and asked him if it was charged? Yes Madam (says he) with a brace of Bullets. Do you think Sir (says Cordelia) I have courage enough to shoot it off? Pray let me try, and look out at that window for a mark. Whilst he stooped to see for one, she shot him into the Reins of the back, at which he staggered, and Sabrina with a Poniard gave him six wounds upon the back and breast, which she with that haste and fury redoubled upon him, that he immediately fell down dead at her feet; which done, they dragged him down into a Cellar, where they buried him in his clothes, and laid a pile of Billets over him. The next day his Lackeys came to inquire for him, but were answered that he parted from them within an hour after, and said he would take a walk in the fields, and that he had not been there since. Three days after, (there being yet no account of him) several Gentlemen his Friends and Relations came to demand him of Cordelia, who returned the same answer as before; but they being for some reasons suspicious of her, acquaint the Criminal Judges with it, who after examination of several parties commit her to Prison, where about ten days after the virtuous Madamoyselle de Sinclere came to visit her, to whom in discourse Cordeliae said, she was as innocent of Leonardo 's death, as he was of Durel's Murder; which being overheard, was told to the Judges: This gave them more cause of suspicion, but she still justified her Innocence, and positively denied that she ever knew any thing of either of the Murders; and tho' she was guilty of such a simple expression, it was purely through ignorance and inadvertency. Upon this she was adjudged to the Rack, which she endured with admirable patience, insomuch as the Judges now began to favour her, and conclude her Innocence from the constancy and courage of her resolution.  
About this time News was brought that Sabrina (who was fled) was taken up on the banks of the River Diren dead: This News revives Cordelia, who now began to think herself secure, since there was no person to accuse her, and that she was safe beyond the reach of punishment from Heaven or Earth.  
But here mark the wonderful Providence and Judgement of God Cordelia was indebted to her Landlord a whole years Rend, and 300 Livres in money; which now giving for lost, he let out her part of the House to Monsieur Chatillon, (who came thither for his health's sake) and sold all her Goods, even to the Billets in the Cellar, to make himself satisfaction; when upon the removal of the last, they found the earth had been lately opened to the proportion of a Grave. The Landlord hearing this, suspects the truth, and acquaints the Judges with it, who presently ordered it to be searched, where they found the body of Leonardo in his clothes, which they carried to the Prison, and exposed to her sight, roughly charging her with the murder of it, which she undauntedly denied. The Judges than commanded her Paps to be torn off with hot burning Pincers, to make her discover the truth: whereat amazed, and seeing the torment ready to be inflicted, she fell on her knees and confessed that she and Sabrina murdered Leonardo, the manner how, and the reasons why, for which she was condemned to be hanged in the same street, over-against her Lodging, and her body burnt; and Sabrina's dead body to be burnt with her. And for that Leonardo had been guilty of the Murder of Durel so basely and cowardly as Cordelia reported, his body was hung up by the heels upon the common Gibbet for three days, and then thrown into the Lake Ricon; all which was executed according to the sentence.  Thus we see that one sin is the Parent of another; Nor is Vice less fruitful in its Offspring than the most glorious Virtue: Whoredom propagates Murder, and Uncleanness is often the Daughter of Intemperance.  

HIST: XIII. Orlindo and Paulina.  
Orlindo (upon promise of Marriage) gets Paulina with Child, and leaves her, and marries Lucretia. Paulina sensible of her disgrace and his treachery, in the habit of a Friar pistols him in the Fields, for which she is hanged.  
IN the Famous City of Florence lived of late years two rich and beautiful young Gentlewomen, the one named Donna Paulina, Daughter of Signior Miranto, and the other Donna Lucretia, the only Child of Signior Sterlin. Both these young Ladies had several Suitors, yet none of them so dearly and passionately loved Paulina, as the Baron of Orlindo, a rich young Nobleman of Venice, and Lucretia as passionately loved him, but not he her. Lucretia had in vain attempted by her friends to prevail with him to forsake Paulina, to love her; for so great was Orlindo's affection to Paulina, that by the strictest promise, and most sacred protestations he was privately contracted to her, though he had not yet gained her Father's consent; which after many entreaties he obtained, though for some reasons he thought convenient to defer the solemnity of the Espousals.  
Orlindo continuing thus in Florence at a vast expense, grew in want of money, which he knew not how to relieve at present, but to make sure work of his Lady Paulina, with many Sighs and Prayers, Oaths and promises of fidelity and constancy, he drew her to his lustful desires, in which unlawful familiarity they continued several weeks: But then, like a base Nobleman, (having surfeited himself with those amorous pleasures) visited her but seldom; and when she desired him to marry her, he was either deaf, or so doubtful in his Answers, that she had now great reason to suspect his treachery: But three months after he utterly forsook her sight and company; which tormented her to the heart, nor did she know how to remedy it. Orlindo now made all his court to Lucretia, at which she was extremely pleased, and being of a great wit, and informed some great distaste was fallen out between him and the Lady Paulina, and that being far from home, he wanted moneys to bear out his port in Florence, imagined that might be the cause of it. To oblige him therefore to herself, and knowing her Father had a great respect for him, she one day told him, That of late she observed Orlindo was was grown melancholy, and that she fancied his great expenses at Florence, and his long absence from Venice, might have exhausted his moneys, and that probably the reason of it. Her Father meeting Orlindo the next day, invites him home, and taking him aside into his Study, after several compliments told him, Venice was a great distance from Florence, and the return of money uncertain; but if at any time he should have occasion, desired him to make use of his friendship, and that he should freely command whatever he could call his own; and there laid him down 500 double Pistols: Adding withal, That if he needed more at present, he should have what he pleased, and repay it when he pleased; and if he thought good to marry his Daughter, he would settle his whole Estate upon him.  
This kindness of Signior Sterlin so prevailed with Orlindo, that he presently found out his new Mistress Lucretia, and relates to her what had passed between her Father and himself; which so pleased her, that she now assures herself she alone shall be happy in the affection of Orlindo.  
Paulina, who in this time had heard what frequent visits Orlindo made to Lucretia, and considered her own distressed condition, resolves to try if she can reclaim him, and to that end, knowing the fidelity of Curanto her Father's Coachman, she gives him a rich Diamond-Ring from her finger, and bids him find out the Baron of Orlindo, and deliver it to him, and tell him that she desires to see him in the afternoon. Curanto finds him out, and delivers his message; To whom Orlindo returned this answer; Commend me to thy Lady, and tell her I will wait on her immediately after dinner.  
Orlindo came according to his promise, and was conducted to Paulina's Chamber, where taking him aside, she complained of the coldness of his affection, his long absence, the violation of his Oaths, and her own great belly: which he angrily replied, That he ceuld not get his Friend's consent, and without it he would not marry her; That Lucretia, though she was not so Fair, was more Virtuous; and therefore (says he) provide for your Fortunes, and so will I for mine; and throwing back her Ring in a passion, hastily departed from her. The consideration of this barbarous cruelty to her, pierced her heart with sorrow; but seeing no help, she resolves to provide for her Reputation, and the disposal of her great belly: To this end she thinks none so fit to be entrusted with a secret of that nature, as her Aunt Camilla, a wise and rich Widow who lived at Pontarlin ten miles from Florence, by whose advice and prudent conduct she hoped to prevent a public disgrace. Paulina, who wanted not an excuse, obtains her Father's leave to go to Pontarlin for change of Air, and there acquaints her Aunt with the secret of her great Belly, and prays her love and assistance, which she faithfully promised, highly extolling her prudence in concealing her folly. Here she often remembered Orlindo's monstrous ingratitude, the thoughts whereof impaired her health, and made her miscarry of a lovely Boy, which she kissed and bathed in tears, and at night her Aunt buried it decently in the Garden. Paulina, though she continued very sick and weak, yet her heart was still towards the ungrateful Baron; and not daring to trust any person but her faithful Coachman Curanto, she ordered him to post to Florence, and acquaint Orlindo with her deplorable condition, and pray him to come and see her before she dies. Curanto made hast to Florence, and meeting Orlindo as he was going into his Coach, delivers his Lady's message to him; who first smiling, and then in passion, returns Curanto this answer in his ear; Tell thy Mistress Paulina from me, that I wish she was buried with her Bastard, and both at the Devil; and so (without any more words) took Coach, and drove away to Lucretia. Curanto returns this answer to his Lady, who bitterly grieves at it, and tells her Aunt, who blames her for her fondness and folly, and bids her rather scorn and detest him. In the midst of this discourse, comes a Servant from her Father Miranto with this Letter to her.  
Miranto, to Paulina.  
HOping that by this time the sweet Air of Pontarlin has recovered thy health, I now desire thee with speed to return to Florence, and I have sent this bearer on purpose to conduct thee thither. I believe thy Countrey-absence hath lost thee a good Fortune here in the City, for yesterday morning the Baron of Orlindo was married to Donna Lucretia in great state, who I well hoped should have been thy Husband. I send my best Love and Respects to my Sister, and my Prayers to God for thy Health and Prosperity.  
Miranto.  
Paulina at the receipt hereof was all on fire, to be revenged on the faithless Orlindo, and swore he should pay dear for his Ingratitude, and vows either to murder him herself, or procure those who should do it for her sake: In this fury she returns to Florence, and first tempts Marcian her Apothecary to poison him, and then Curanto her Coachman to stab him, but both these absolutely refuse to engage in so wicked a Design. Being thus disappointed by these two, she resolves to act that tragical part herself; and understanding that mornings and evenings he frequently walked a mile out of the City to a pleasant walk planted on both sides with Olive and Orange-Trees, concludes to make that the Scene of her bloody revenge. To this purpose she secretly provides herself with a Friars complete Weed, a sad-coloured Russet Gown and Coat, with a Girdle of a knotty Rope, wooden Sandals, a false, negligent old Beard, and hair to the head suitable to the same; in one pocket of his Gown she puts a begging box and a new Breviary bound in blue Turkey-leather, richly guilt, and in the other a couple of short Pistols, each charged with a brace of Bullets. All these she ties up close in the Gown, waiting an opportunity to effect her execrable Contrivance. The Thursday following she had an account that Orlindo was gone to his usual walk, upon which she ordered Curanto to bring the Coach to the door; and giving him the little bundle, told him, She was now resolved to give Orlindo such a merry meeting in the fields, as should make him laugh, and so bid him drive on. Being now come near the walks she descends from the Coach, and taking the little bundle in her hand, orders Curanto to wait her return, and under the covert of some Bushes puts on the Friar's habit. At a distance she saw Orlindo walking very contemplative, whom with a bow or two she approached, holding up her begging Box for an Alms, which he was ready to give; but seeing so fair a Breviary in the Friar's hand, he took and opened it; when Paulina stepping behind him, softly drew out one of the Pistols, and shot him into the back, and as he fell discharged the other into his breast, of which he presently died. Paulina having thus wrought her revenge, withdraws hastily to the same covert, puts off her Disguise, which she hides and returns to the Coach: Well Curanto (says she with a smile) my heart is now at ease, my injured Honour has now received a satisfaction, and his ingratitude a just reward. Drive speedily back, and keep your own counsel. Curanto, who knew nothing of her Design, yet now guessed her meaning by the report of the Pistols which he heard go off, was astonished at it, suspecting the worst; when driving on with more haste than good speed, passing by the side of a Hill, the Coach overturned, and broke his left leg, and Paulina's right arm; The furious Horses ran away with the Coach, which was torn all a pieces. At this instant came by Orlindo's Coach with his Page Varini in in it, going to his Master; who seeing the Lady Paulina (whom he knew) in so distressed a condition, alighted, and took her up into his Lord's Coach, and Curanto with her, and so speedily returned to fetch his Lord, whom he found in the same Grove dead. Varini strangely amazed at this rueful spectacle, cries out, and tares his hair for grief, not knowing what to say or do: At last he resolves to stay by the body, and send the Coach for his Lady and her Father Signior Sterlin. Paulina and Curanto went back to Florence in Orlindo's Coach, where she had leisure to consider the mischiefs she had drawn upon herself by her violent passion and insatiable malice. Signior Sterlin and the Lady Lucretia are now arrived, where they see and bewail the one his Son, the other her beloved Lord, with sorrows inexpressible. The Criminal Judges being acquainted with the murder of Orlindo, send out their Officers into the Fields to apprehend all persons they found there, and bring them before them: but they found no more but one poor ragged Boy, who was keeping of Cows on the other side of the hedge, and gave them this account:  
That he saw the Gentleman walk alone at least an hour, and then an old Friar came to him who shot two Pistols at him, and killed him, and then the Friar went away, and he saw him no more; but there was a fine Coach which stood a little distance from the Grove, where a fine Lady came out, and went into the Grove; and after the Friar had killed the Gentleman, the Lady went back to the Coach, and drove away. They asked him what colour the Horses were, and what Livery the Coachman had on? The Boy said, The Horses were white, and the Coachman had a red Cloak with white Lace.  
Varini observing this, affirmed it was the Lady Paulina, her Coach and Coachman, and so related in what a condition he had found them two hours before. Upon this they were suspected of the Murder, and the Officers at their return to Florence commanded to apprehend them, which they did, as they were going out in a fresh Hackney-Coach, and brought them Prisoners to the common Goal of the City.  
Two days after Orlindo had been solemnly interred, Paulina and Curanto were brought before the Judges, and charged with the Murder of Orlindo, which they both stoutly denied. The Boy is called to give in Evidence against them, who stands to his former ●epositions, but cannot think the Lady was the Friar, nor can he truly say that this was the Coachman.  
The next morning Curanto was racked, but the torments could not make him confess any thing: Presently after Paulina was put to the same torture; which not being able to endure, she confessed herself to be the sole Author and Actor in the Murder of Orlindo in all the circumstances as before represented, and strongly affirmed her Coachman Curanto was Innocent: For which she received Sentence to be hanged next morning, and accordingly about ten the sorrowful Paulina was brought between two Nuns to the place of Execution, where (after a very penitent and religious Speech) she was turned over.  
Honest Curanto, though he was thus cleared by Paulina, yet by the solicitations of Lucretia was adjudged to the double torments of the Rack, which he patiently endured without confessing any thing: The Judges therefore moved in conscience to make him some satisfaction for enfeebling his body, and impairing his health, decree the Lady Lucretia to give him three hundred Duckatoons, which was paid him accordingly, and he discharged.  May the reading of this Tragical History learn us all to hate from our hearts the Inconstancy and Ingratitude of Orlindo, and from our souls abhor the Cruelty of Paulina, who though at first she seems to triumph in sin, and praise the success of her Revenge and bloody Enterprise, yet the judgement of God immediately overtakes the bold offender, and brings her to open and condign Punishment.  

HIST. XIV. Castlenovo and Perina.  
Jacomo de Castlenovo lusts after Perina his own Sons Wife, hires Jerantha to poison his own Lady Fidelia, and then his Son Francisco, for which Perina murders him in his bed. Jerantha (ready to die) confesses the two Murders, is hanged and burnt. Perina's right hand is cut off, and she condemned to suffer perpetual Imprisonment, where she dies of a Consumption.  
BEyond the Alps not long since lived Signior Antonio de Arconeto, a rich and noble Gentleman, who by his Lady lately deceased had a Son named Signior Alexandro, and a Daughter called Perina: the Son the Darling, the Daughter a Castaway, who bears her Father's frowns with admirable patience; but the Son building too much on his Father's fondness, grows Debauched, and gets a Surfeit at a Banquet, which cast him into a pestilential Fever, and that in three days into his Grave. Perina is now sole Heiress to her Father's Lands and Favour, whom he yet looks upon with disdain; which brought her into a melancholy, and that into extreme sickness; which was so ill resented by the Lady Dominica her Aunt, that she prevailed with her Brother to let Perina be with her, at which the Aunt was very glad, but the Niece overjoyed.  
Perina being thus settled there, her Aunt hath a Daughter who was suddenly to be married to a Gentleman of Nice, where she was chosen Bride-maid, and Don Francisco de Castlenovo, (a Native of Nice, Knight of Malta, and sole Heir to jacomo de Castlenovo, a rich and ancient Baron of Savoy) Brideman, who is enamoured of Perina, and understanding that her Birth and Quality answered his, during his stay there made his court to her, and in fifteen days obtained her consent to be his Wife, with which he acquaints the Lady Dominica, desiring her assistance to obtain her Fathers, which in a short time she effects. Castlenovo posts away home to his own Father, and speedily returns with his approbation, whereupon they were married in great pomp and solemnity, and Perina brought home to Nice, where she was honourably received by his Father with great Feasting and Mirth, at which the young Couple thought themselves in Heaven. But old Castlenovo being threescore and eight years old, forgetting both his Duty to God and himself, lusts after his young Daughter-in-law Perina, which makes him wonderful complaisant to her; but not daring to express his beastly Desires whilst her Husband is at home, he tells him, That his Honour and the service of his Prince and Country invite him to the expulsion of the Spaniards out of Piedmont: His Son (nothing suspecting his Father's treachery) notwithstanding all his Wife's tears and entreaties, takes his leave of her for three or four months, and fitting his Equipage, goes to the Camp. Now old Castlenovo plays the part of a young Lover, is still with Perina, and ever and anon kissing her; which though she thinks too much, yet a Father's name makes it currant. But the Lady Fidelia seeing her Husband's humour, is jealous of the truth, and exceedingly troubled at it, but manages her grief with discretion, till one day with tears in her eyes she privately reproves him for his lustful Desires; which wrought so bad an effect on him, that he resolves to remove that obstacle, in order to which he hires jerantha, Fidelia's waiting-woman, for 500 ducats to poison her, which she did by infusing Poison into some white Broth she had made her, and so in eight days dispatched her into a better place.  
The old Lecher inwardly rejoices, but in outward show is exceedingly afflicted and dejected, and in very honourable manner causes her to be interred. While this is acting at Nice, Peace is concluded between Spain and Savoy, and young Castlenovo comes home, where he is entertained with mourning for his Mother.  
The old man knowing it was impossible for him to obtain his ends whilst his Son was at home, seeks a pretence to send him away, and in a short time two several occasions offer themselves, either to go to France with the Prince Major, who was to marry the King's second Sister, or to go to Malta to get a pension during his life. The young Couple like that of France best for several reasons; but in obedience to his Father he must to Malta. This filthy old Lecher now resolves either by fair or foul means to compass his end, in order to which he gives her the sole Government of his house: But e'er fifteen days were passed, finding her in her Bedchamber playing on her Lute, after some pauses, Coughs and Kisses, he vomits forth his foul affection; at which enraged, she throws away her Lute, and in great passion leaves him; but he in every Walk, Garden and Room haunts her like a Ghost, thinking to gain by importunity what he could not by persuasion. But modest Perina is inflexible, and grieves at his perseverance, but how to quench the fire of his Lust she knows not; she has no friend to retire or make her moan to, wherefore she resolves to write a Letter to hasten her Husband's return, which she does, and sends by the hands of his intimate Friend Signior Sabia, wherein she tells him, That her Honour is in danger by his absence, (but names not from whom) and earnestly presses his speedy return. At the receipt hereof he was troubled, but fancied it was only a trick of his Wives to make him speed home; and so being loath to quit his hopes of the Preferment the Grand Master had promised him, returns Sabia to Nice with a rich Emrald-Ring, and a Letter to this purpose, That he was assured of her Love, and the care she took of her Honour, and that he only believed it was an artifice of hers to call him sooner home, which he could not yet comply with, since he daily expected Preferment from the Grand Master; which being obtained, he would fly to her embraces.  
This Letter was both a comfort and affliction to her; for as she was confirmed in his health, so she was too well assured of his stay, and now begins to fear her Fathers-in-law wicked purpose; nor were her fears groundless, for he seeing entreaties prevail not, threatens to force what she will not freely give. At which being terribly affrighted, she resolves to provide for her safety, which by the help of Sabia she effects, who conveys her from Nice to her Father Arconetoes house, where reflecting on former passages, she grew sickly, which made her once more send Sabia to Malta with another Letter; That she is gone from Nice to her own Fathers at St. John de Maurien; That if neither her Affection nor her Honour will draw him, yet she begs the care of her Life may invite him; and withal says, That she has a secret to impart to him before she dies, which she will entrust with no person but himself.  
Whilst Sabia is going to Malta with this, old Castlenovo finding his Villainy would be discovered by the flight of his Daughter-in-law, and being sure that his Son will be enraged at it, is in great perplexity, not knowing what to do. Mean time Sabia delivers the Letter to young Castlenovo, who wonders who it should be in his Father's house that durst attempt his Wife, which makes him dispatch Sabia away to carry News of his coming, and three days after arrives there himself. The joys of both parties were unspeakable, but when he knew it was his own Father that sought incestuously to enjoy his Daughter, he was struck with horror at the thought, and resolved to continue at St. john Maurien with Arconeto.  
But old Castlenovo thinking what a scandal the divulging his Crime, and his Son's absence would prove to him, wrote a Letter to him, wherein he acknowledged his lascivious and graceless attempt upon the Honour of so chaste a Lady, which he could not remember but with detestation: but now Religion had vanquished Lust, and he did heartily sorrow and repent of so foul a miscarriage. That if he, who was the sole prop of his age, (whose absence he daily lamented) would return with his Lady to Nice, he called Heaven and Earth to witness, That for the future he would as much honour her for her Chastity, as he had formerly lasciviously sought to betray it. And further adds, That his tongue should make good what his pen had writ.  
This Letter prevailed with his Son and Daughter, who about eight days after the receipt thereof return to Nice, where the old man with tears in his eyes confesses his error, and so they were perfectly reconciled. But (alas!) this Sunshine will quickly be clouded, for the old Dotard daily beholding Perina's Beauty, soon relapsed; and knowing he cannot obtain his desires so long as his Son lives, makes use of the same hellish Agent jerantha, with the promise to marry her, and give her down 500 ducats more, to poison him; which she, for lucre of the Money, and ambition of being a Lady, in less than six days effected. The sudden death of Castlenovo had like to have occasioned Perina's too, who tares her Hair, and betrays all the deplorable demonstrations of sorrow that can be imagined, and so does the old hypocrite Castlenovo, which she takes for counterfeit, and suspects that he and jerantha are guilty of her Husband's death, and concludes that if he renews his suit, they were really his murderers. A little more than a month after his Son was laid in his untimely Grave, the old beastly wretch began afresh his solicitations, to which she seemed not so averse as before, and at last (to palliate her design) she yields, and the time and place is appointed; which being come, and Castlenovo in his bed, impatiently expecting Perina, she softly enters his Chamber in her day-attire, with a Pisa-dagger in her sleeve, and bolting the door after her, comes to his bedside, where seeing his breast open, she stabs him to the heart, and with repeated blows kills him stark dead, not suffering him to speak one word, only he shrieked once or twice, which his Servants overhearing, ran up to his Chamber, where they met Perina coming out with the bloody Poniard in her hand, for which she was presently taken and imprisoned, and two days after arraigned, where she freely confessed it, alleging for her reason▪ That He and Jer●ntha had murdered both her Husband and her Mother-in-law Fidelia, as she had good reason to suspect. But this not excusing her fact, she is condemned to be hanged, from which Sentence ●he appeals to the Senate at Chambray, whither she is conveyed, who moderate the former Sentence, and adjudge her to have her right hand cut off, and to suffer perpetual Imprisonment at Nice, where in a short time she died very penitent of a Consumption.  
jerantha being with child by old Castlenovo, apprehensive of the danger she was in, fled secretly to a Friends house, where she fell in labour, and her pains were so violent, that the Women about her concluded she would die, whereupon she began to repent, and confessed the two former Murders, after which she was safely delivered of a Son.  
The Judges being acquainted with her Confession, on the second day she was apprehended, committed to Prison, and the third hanged and burnt at Nice, and her ashes thrown into the Air.  Thus we see the Ruin of two Noble Families wrought by the wickedness of the Old and Lecherous Castlenovo, who murdered his Wife and Son, renounced all the hopes of Heaven, despised the dreadful flames of Hell, to gratify one burning Lust on Earth.  

HIST. XV. Muletto and Servia.  
Muletto murdereth his Wife Servia, and twenty years after (unknown) robbeth his and her Son Augustino, who likewise (not knowing Muletto to be his Father) accuses him of the Robbery, for which he is hanged.  
IN the Kingdom of Naples near the Arsenal dwelled a proper young fellow named Muletto, by Trade a Baker, who having both an Oven and a Shop of his own, by his indefatigable pains and Industry grew exceeding rich, and became one of the prime Bakers of the City. This Muletto going one day to Cassan, twenty miles distant from Naples, he there saw and fell in love with a rich Vintner's Daughter, her Father's name was Pedro Spondy and hers Servia, a lovely and beautiful Maid, exceeding virtuous and religious; who tho' she had several Suitors, yet fancied Muletto above 'em all. Whereupon he sought her in Marriage, and easily got her good will, provided he could obtain her Father's consent.  
Muletto having thus won the Daughter, applies himself to the Father, but so averse is old Spondy, that he will not by any means hear of it; yet still Muletto continues his Suit, and jointly with Servia entreat his consent, but he proudly and disdainfully refuses, swearing he will die before he will permit him to marry his Daughter. At which answer Muletto went very discontentedly back to Naples, and Servia remains at Cassan with her Father, who now thinks to provide her another Husband, and gives her choice of two (to prevent her marrying Muletto) but she utterly refuses both; whereat old Spondy is mad, and threatens to disinherit her.  
Three years are now past since the young Couple first saw one another, and since Muletto first asked Spondy's consent; and still seeing it in vain, he thinks it now high time to lay close siege to Servia, that she would agree to marry him, (notwithstanding her Father's refusal, telling her, That though he had not a Duckatoon in Portion with her, he valued it not, that he married her for Love, and had Estate enough to maintain her in a prosperous condition. By which sweet words she was prevailed upon to leave her Father, and go along with Muletto. Thus agreed, Muletto hires a Boat, whereof having notice, she goes out at the Garden-door. That night they went down the River, and early the next morning he hires Horses, and brings her to Naples, where they were privately married.  
Spondy missing his Daughter, rages extremely, as doubting that Muletto had stole her: whereof making secret enquiry at Naples, and being assured of it, he passionately swears, That they shall never enjoy one penny of his Estate, nor will he ever after see them. Ten days after their Marriage, Muletto road over to Cassan to Spondy, to labour with his best respects and duty for a reconciliation. Coming to Spondy's house with intent to see and discourse him, he bolts himself into his Chamber, and charges his Servants to deny him, for that he is resolved neither to see nor speak with him. Muletto went back to his Inn, and two hours after came again, but Spondy was still denied; when the next morning rising early, he went to Spondy's house, but received the same answer: whereat very angry, he took his Horse and road home to Naples, where he truly relates to his Wife the entertainment he had at her Fathers; whereat she was exceedingly grieved, but Muletto comforted her up with good words, and was indeed very kind and loving to her. Thus they lived very providently, and managed their Trade to the best advantage, both of them being very diligent and saving. Six months after, having not heard one word from Spondy, Muletto prays his Wife to go over to her Father herself. Servia accepted of the journey, and comes to Cassan, where she received the same entertainment her Husband had found before in all respects; nay he caused his doors to be shut against her: At which unkindness of her Father she wept bitterly, and got her Aunt and her Fathers own Ghostly Father to intercede for her; but finding all fruitless, and to no effect, she returned to Naples to her Husband. Muletto ask what success, she relates to him the unnatural discourtesy of her Father towards her, which vexed him to the heart, but he dissembleth his discontent, which is aggravated by being known to his Neighbours, who flout and jeer him in all Companies.  
This makes him now to look untowardly on his Wife, and slight her, and turn ill Husband, neglect himself and his Profession, and follow lewd and evil Company, spending and consuming his Estate with Whores and Strumpets, which at length reduces him to great poverty and want; for the relieving whereof she sends to Spondy her Father, and acquaints him with her necessities, praying his assistance to relieve her present distress: but he is so hardhearted, that he will neither help her wants, nor pity her affliction, whereby her condition is grown so miserable, that she is ready to despair. In the midst of these her sorrows, she was brought to bed of a fine Boy, who was christened in a poor manner, and named Augustino. The charity of her Neighbours to her in this condition preserved her from starving, for her wicked Husband took no care of her, but was so wholly devoted to Drunkenness and Debauchery, that he never thought of being better, nor had she any reasonable grounds to expect his amendment. After she was up again she worked very hard with her Needle to maintain her poor Babe and herself; and if she got a little money to keep them from starving, he presently tore it from her; so that not knowing what to do in so great want and misery, she sent a Letter to her Father in these words:  
Servia, to Spondy.  
MY Husband's Vices do so increase my wants and miseries, that I have not clothes nor food left to preserve myself and my poor Son Augustino; and considering that I am your Daughter, methinks in Nature and Christianity you should relieve me in these bitter distresses, especially since my sighs beg it of you with humility for Charity's sake, and my tears with sorrow for God's sake. If your heart will not relent in compassion to me, at least let it towards the pretty young Child, whom I beseech you with tears to take from me and maintain. God will requite your charity to him, and I shall the sooner forget your cruelty to myself: And so may you live in as much prosperity as I fear I shall shortly die in want and misery,  
Servia.  
Spondy received this Letter and read it without any compassion or concern for his Daughter; but his rugged and stubborn humour had some pity for poor Augustino, and to let her know so much sent her this Answer:  
Spondy, to Servia.  
I See thou art obstinate, in disobeying my commands with thy Letters, wherein I believe thou takest more glory, than I conceive grief at the relation of thy wants, which I am so far from pitying, that I am only sorry that I am thy Father. But since thy young Son is as innocent as thou art guilty of my displeasure, I have sent this Bearer for him, and I will see if it be the pleasure of Heaven that I shall be as Happy in Him, as I am Unfortunate in Thee.  
Spondy.  
Servia having read this Letter, though she grieved at her Father's obdurate heart to herself, yet was joyful at his kindness to her Son, whom she delivered to the messengers hands, and next to God's protection religiously recommends him to the affection and education of her Father: but Muletto would not so much as kiss him at parting, whose unkindness he will live to return.  
Servia having thus sent away her Son, the same night dreams she shall never see him more; whereat awaking, she wept bitterly, while her Husband laughed at her fondness, who now grows worse and worse, so that her life was a mere burden to her. Five years hath she now lived in this misery, having no consolation but in her Prayers and Patience. Instead of mending, Muletto (if possible) is more dissolute than ever, grows weary of his poor virtuous Wife, and thinks if she were dead he might get another which should enrich him, for which reason he resolves to murder her; and accordingly, on a great Holiday took her out with him to walk to a Vineyard out of the City, pretending to recreate themselves, which poor Servia took for a great kindness, and gladly went along. Muletto lies down upon the ground, & feigns himself asleep, when she lying down by him slept sound; which he observing, softly rises up, and cuts her throat, not suffering her to cry or speak one word: So leaving her, went back to Naples a contrary way, to take off all suspicion.  
The very same night her murdered body was found by some who chanced to walk that way, and brought to Naples, where it is known to be Servia, Mulettoes Wife, who was sent for, and seems passionately affected at her untimely death, requests the Criminal Officers to search for the Murderers, which he is very diligent and industrious in himself, and with that cunning and hypocrisy conceals his own guilt, that he of all men is least suspected.  
Muletto (his Wife being buried) now sells her clothes to buy himself some, and seeks many Maids and Widows in marriage, but he is refused and scorned by all; so that utterly despairing to raise himself at home, he enroleth himself a Banditti, and for many years practiseth that theivish and villainous Profession.  
Old Spondy trains up his Grandchild virtuously and industriously, so that he becomes excellent in Painting, Graving, and Imagery, and then chooses to be a Goldsmith, and proves a singular workman in his Trade. His Grandfather is very kind to him, and intends to make him his Heir; but Augustino desires to travel and see other Countries, particularly Rome: To which purpose finding a Ship in Savona-road going to Civita Vecchia, he privately packs up his Baggage, and imbarques therein. Being arrived at Rome, he becomes a singular ingenious Goldsmith, and expert workman, thriving so well, that he resolves to set up his abode there.  
Four and twenty years are now past since Muletto left Naples and turned Banditti, of which growing weary at last, he went to Florence, and set up his Trade of a Baker, intending there to settle and marry; but it happened otherwise, for the Cardinal De Medici's going to Rome to receive his Hat, and intending to enter and continue there in great state and magnificence, he took into his house double Officers, to whom he gave rich and costly Liveries, and amongst others Muletto was chosen Baker in that journey, and at Rome flaunts it out gallantly, and is more debauched and prodigal than any other of the Cardinal's Servants: So that at last growing bare both of money and credit, he resolves to recruit himself by stealing some pieces of Plate out of a young Goldsmith's Shop in Rome. with whom he had some little acquaintance. From him he stole two fair rich gilded Chalices, a curious small Gold Crucifix set with Sapphires and Emeralds, all amounting to the value of 450 Duckatoons.  
The young Goldsmith amazed at his loss, knows not whom to suspect or accuse for this Robbery, but Muletto the Cardinal of Florence his Baker, who much frequented his Shop. Upon which, knowing that he lay not in the Cardinal's Palace, but in a Tailor's house adjoining, he got an Officer and searched his Chamber and Trunk, where he found one of his Chalices, but nothing else, and as he was going out meets Muletto, who is committed to Prison, and by the evidence of part of the Goods found in his possession, and his confession in hopes of mercy, is condemned to be hanged next day.  
In the morning he was brought to the common place of Execution, at the Bridge-foot near the Castle of St. Angelo, where upon the Ladder he confesses the Robbery, and that his name is Muletto, and that 26 years ago he lived at Naples, where he murdered his Wife Servia Spondy in a Vineyard a mile out of Naples, for which, and other his sins, he sincerely repent: Augustino hearing the names of Muletto, Servia and Spondy, burst into tears, and cried out that man upon the Ladder was his own Father, and that Servia Spondy was his Mother, and therefore desired the Executioner to forbear a while, when at his descent from the Ladder Augustino threw himself at his feet, and freely offered all his Estate to save his Father's life, but it would not be accepted, so the next day he was hanged, having first freely forgiven his Son, and asked forgiveness of him for his Mother's murder.  
As for Augustino, after this infamous death of his Father, he removed from Rome, and returned to his Grandfather Spondy, who received him with many demonstrations of joy and affection, and at his death made him sole Heir of all his Goods and Estate.  Tho' the Vengeance of Heaven may seem to sleep for a time, it still keeps a watchful eye over the impenitent offender.— The perverseness of Spondy causes disobedience in Servia, which is punished by the bloody cruelty of her Husband, whose barbarous Murder Heaven at last revenges by the hand of his unknown Son Augustino.  

HIST. XVI. Morosino and Imperia.  
Imperia in Love with Morosino, causes him and his Companions Astonicus and Donato, to stifle her Husband Palmerius in his Bed. The Murder is discovered by Morosino's Gloves, for which they are all apprehended and executed.  
IN the famous City of Venice, lived a young Gentleman, called Signior Angelo Morosino; who in Company of Signior Astonicus and Signior Donato, Embarked for the Islands of Corfu and Zant, and after a short stay there, were bound for Constantinople; but by the way forced by a Storm, they put into the Harbour of Ancona, which belongs to the Pope. In which place being obliged to stay by contrary Winds, the three Merchants out of Devotion went up to Loretto, where having spent two days in visiting the Holy Chapel, on the third early in the morning, Morosino leaving his ●riends in Bed, went to Mass; where (at her Devotion) he saw a young Lady incomparably fair, at whose sight he was so inflamed with Affection to her, that he could willingly resign all the Powers and Faculties of Soul and Body to her Service. Mass being ended, he followed her out of the Chapel, and seeing her only attended with a Waiting Woman and a Lackey, with great Respect and Civility offered his Service to wait upon her home, and after several Compliments, which passed between them, obtained the favour to take her by the Hand, and gracefully conducted her to her Father's House, whose name was Signior Hi●r●nimo Bondino, and she his only Daughter Dona Imperia▪ Morosino at the door took his leave (though she courteously invited him in) and begged the Honour to wait upon her in the Afternoon, whispering in her Ear, that so great was the present Violence of his Passion to her, that he feared he should not be able to acquit himself with that decency, as became a Cavalier, to a Person of her Merits and Quality.  
In the Afternoon he made his visit to her, acquainted her with his Name and Quality, his intended Voyage to Constantinople, but chiefly with his constant Resolution to seek her in Marriage both of herself and her Father: and so expert was he in the Art of Love, that in three week's time (the Winds continuing contrary) he made her many Visits and amorous Courtships, and at last obtained her Consent to be his Wife at his return from Constantinople. He then addressed himself to her Father Bondino, who was so averse to it, that neither his Entreaties and Persuasions, or her Tears and Prayers could melt his heart into a better Temper.  
Morosino now acquaints his two Friends, Astonicus and Donato with his Affection to Imperia, and brings them next Morning to see her; they highly commend his Choice, and use all their Endeavours to gain Bondino's Consent; but he is so resolutely obstinate, that no Arguments can in the least affect him. This grieves the two Lovers to the Heart, to see they must now be parted, for the Master of the Ship had sent word, that the Wind now blowing fair, he should with all Expedition weigh Anchor and set Sail for Corfu. Morosino seeing the necessity of his departure, again moves Bondino for his Consent, but he proves inexorable, when going to bid Imperia Adieu, he sacredly Vows to live unmarried till his Return, which shall be within a year, and then to marry her; and as a Pledge of his Fidelity and Constancy, presents her with a rich Diamond Ring from his Finger, and she him with a fair Bracelet of Orient Pearl, as a sign of their mutual Contract: to which Astonicus and Donato are both Witnesses. This done, they took Horse for Ancona, and presently Embarked for Corfu and Constantinople.  
Bondino three months after, provides her another Husband, old Signior Palmerius; a rich Merchant of Ancona, at least sixty years of Age, and withal of a deformed Personage, and morose and sullen Temper; but this old Dotard, is so taken with Imperia's Youth and Beauty, and the encouragement he received from Bondino, that he comes to his House and makes downright Love to her. In the Interim, her Father had charged her to receive him with all Respect, and accept his Affections; which with Tears in her Eyes, she flatly told him, she could not Obey; she was fixed already, and would marry no Person but Morosino: Bondino with Fury in his Face, told her he expected no other answer but her dutiful Compliance with his Commands, and in a Passion left her to the Company of old Palmerius, who entered at the same time, and with all the kind Expressions he was Master of, offered her the entire command of himself and his Fortunes, in Exchange for her Love and Affection: She told him, If this was all his Errand, she did assure him, she neither would nor could dispose of that which was already in the possession of another, and so left him to his own Meditations. Palmerius returned to Ancona; but two months after, to the great Joy of Bondino, made a second Visit▪ and now both day and night, they importune Imperia to consummate the Marriage; and to that purpose her Father gives her good Words, and Palmerius rich Gifts and Presents: but she will neither hear the one, nor accept the other; however Palmerius grows obstinate in his Suit, and her Father resolute in his Commands; to avoid which she locks herself up in her Chamber, and concludes that her only preservation, can be in the Company of Morosino, whose Return she earnestly desires; and accordingly furnishes Signior Mercario, her faithful Friend, with Gold for his Journey, and this Letter to her beloved Morosino.  
Imperia to Morosino.  
COuld you measure my Affections by my Sorrow for your Absence, you could hardly tell whether I love or grieve more; for I am assured that all the Seas between Ancona and Constantinople, are not able to wash away your Memory from my Heart and Soul: Nor can the Sands of the Shore compare in Number, with those Sighs and Tears I daily offer to you. If then I am as dear to you, I heartily beg you will leave Constantinople and come to Loretto, for my Father Bondino is ready to force me to leave my young Morosino, for old and withered Palmerius. judge now how unkind you will be to send an Excuse, and not bring yourself. Farewell my Dear, may the Angels preserve thee, and fill thy Sails with fair and prosperous Winds, till they land thee safe in the Embraces of thy  
Imperia.  
Mercario in three Weeks arrived at Constantinople, found out Morosino, and delivered the Letter which he perused, and after a solemn Entertainment, returned him with this Answer.  
Morosino to Imperia.  
THy Health and Constancy, makes me as joyful in the Receipt of thy Letter, as thy Father's disrespect to me and love to Palmerius makes me sorrowful. Our Hearts are now sacredly united, only live in two different Bodies, which Love and Breath the same desires; and I would now at thy command return thee immediately that part of thyself, I am f●rc'd to divide from thee, would the necessity of my Affairs give me leave to 〈◊〉 Constantinople for Loretto. The Seignory of Venice have by their Ambassador Landy here resident, made me Consul of Aleppo, but what this year cannot the next shall perform. O thou my dear and sweet Imperia, repute 〈◊〉 not ingratitude in me to send thee this Letter, for I do declare in the presence of Men and Angels, my Excuse is as sincerely true and unfeigned as my Affection to Imperia, which can never die bu● with  
Morosino.  
Imperia received this Letter both with Anger and Joy, with Anger because he came not in Person, and with Joy that i● came from him, whose Victim and Martyr she resolved to die, rather than live Palmerius his Wife. But her Father one way and Palmerius another, still haunt her at all times and places without intermission; who finding after six months more elapsed his Labour lost, he resolves at once to strike at all; and to that end, proffers Bondino, that if Imperia will become his Wife, he will Endow her with the one half of his Lands, and give up all his personal Estate into his Hands to purchase her more. This offer so wholly won Bondino, that in hast he told his Daughter the generous proffer of Palmerius, and bid her dispose herself to marry him speedily, or else he would utterly renounce and for ever disown her to be his Daughter.  
Imperia hears her Father's cruel Commands, which she only answers with Sighs and Tears; but at last told him: Sir, You know I both saw and engaged my Love to Morosino, before I ever knew Palmerius, nor can his Riches compare with Morosino 's Virtues; Heaven that is Witness to those Vows I made Morosino, will certainly punish my perfidiousness; nor is it out of Disobedience to your Commands, that I reject Palmerius, but in respect to those Sacred Oaths I made Morosino. Bondino after several Threats in a Chafe left her, who presently resolved to send Mercario with a Gold Watch set with Diamonds, and a second Letter to Morosino, in these words.  
Imperia to Morosino.  
I Had little thought that Profit or preferment had been dearer to thee than Imperia, or that the Seignory of Venice or their Ambassador Landy, had more power to have s●aid thee at Aleppo, than I to have requested thy Return to Loretto; judge now what a poor half I am of thee, wh●n by thy vol●ntary absence, thou wilt wholly resign me to another, and that Palmerius must be my Husband, when I desire nothing more than to live and die thy Wife. Come away therefore, my dear Morosino, and blame not me but thyself, if thy absence and my Father's Obstinacy bereave me of my sweet Morosino, and thee of thy Dear  
Imperia.  
Morosino receives this Letter and Presently blushes, to see himself thus outstriped by her in Kindness; when advising with his two Friends Astonicus and Donato, after ten days feasting of Mercario, and a generous Reward for his pains, he sent him back to Imperia with a fair Chain of Gold, and a rich Diamond Ring fastened thereto, a pair of Turkish embroidered Bracelets, and this Letter.  
Morosino to Imperia.  
THy Beauty and Affection, shall both command my Resolution and myself; I will therefore shorten the time of my Stay, and convert a whole year into a few Months; for to Right the life of my Heart, I value the Affection and Company of my sweet Imperia above a Consulary Dignity, the Treasures of Turkey, or the richer Indieses. O then, my fair and sweet Imperia, live my dear Wife, and I will assuredly die thy loving and constant Husband  
Morosino.  
This Letter Imperia receives with no small Joy, which is suddenly blasted by Bondino's Cruelty; who to bring her to his Will debars her of all Liberty, and takes away from her, her Jewels and best Apparel, and makes her more his Prisoner than his Daughter; whereat she is so cast down, that despairing of Morosino's Return, and vanquished by her Father's Tyranny, and Palmerius his Importunity, grants his Suit, and three days after was solemnly contracted and married to him. Palmerius after his Marriage, proved so amorous and kind, that he left no cost unbestowed on her; but this was not the con●ent she desired, his age was too frozen and cold for her warm vigorous Youth. While Affairs went thus at Loretto, ten months after his promise, Morosino with his two friends Astonicus and Donato land at Ancona, where Mercario meeting with him, salutes him with the News of Imperia's Marriage with Palmerius; at which they both grieve and wonder. By this time Imperia heard of their Arrival, and Mercario is employed to beg a private Visit of her, which is immediately granted, and the next night in her own house they met. At Morosino's first entrance into her Chamber, she fell at his feet and begged his Pardon; he took her up with all the passion and tenderness imaginable, and then with mutual Embraces they revived those Affections, which their long absence might have buried in Oblivion; and as he promises her that she shall be his sole and only Love, so she willingly protests to him, that he shall be more her Husband than Palmerius. Thus for that night they part.  
Next morning Morosino and his two Companions give a public visit, and are courteously received by Palmerius, and in the afternoon Morosino and Imperia meet in the Garden remote from her House, where she was not able to deny whatever he had courage to ask; These unlawful Pleasures make her beg into slight her old Husband, and in a short time, so Bold and Impudent was she grown in the practice of her adulterous Embraces, that they were now become Customary; of which her own Family and Servants, (especially Richardo Nephew to Palmerius, a youth of eighteen,) could not but take notice of it, and make their remarks upon it. Morosino was not content only thus to enjoy Imperia, but knowing that his Expenses far exceeded his Estate, and considering that Palmerius his Wealth would bear up his Port, and Imperia so much his own, that she was fit for any impression, and capable of any Design, that would advance his Fortunes and confirm their Contents, resolves to Murder Palmerius. To this end, at their next meeting they consult on it, and after divers ways proposed, it was at last agreed to be most safe, to Stifle him in Bed between two Pillows, which would leave no cause of suspicion behind it. Morosino after dinner invites Astonicus and Donato to a walk in the fields, and there acquaints them with the design; and that it was his own and Imperia's request, that they would assist them in it. Which Astonicus and Donato cheerfully promised, and having sworn secrecy to each other, they returned to their Lodging, where they drank a Health to the success of their great Business. The next day Morosino relates all to his Imperia, who overjoyed thereat, and Impatient of all delays, concludes to have the business finished the next night after.  
The dismal night is now come, and the clock strikes twelve when Morosino, Astonicus, and Donato go to Palmerius his House, where at the Street Door they find Imperia ready to receive them, where leaving Donato to secure the Door, Morosino and Astonicus leading Imperia without their Shoes, in Woollen Pumps up the Stairs to her own Chamber, she gave each of them a Pillow and directed them to Palmerius his Chamber, where entering in, whilst she guarded the Door, they stifled him and thrust a small Orange into his Mouth; they gently s●ut the Door, and with silence went back to their Lodging, and Imperia to her Bed.  
The next morning, Imperia went to Mass at St. Francis Church; in the interim, came a Messenger with a Letter from Bondino to Palmerius, which his Nephew Richardo receiving carried up to his Uncle's Chamber, where on the 〈◊〉 he found a rich pair of Gloves, which he knew belonged to Morosino and put in his Pocket; when going to his Bedside, he drew the Curtains and found him dead in his Bed with a small Orange in his Mouth. At this he made so loud an Outcry, that several of the Servants came up, who seeing their Master dead, believed he had stopped his own Breath, by putting the Orange in his Mouth: But Richardo remembering Morosino's Gloves which he found, and the familiar Dalliances he had often seen between his Aunt and him; went presently and acquainted the Podestate with the Murder of his Uncle, and strongly charged it upon his Aunt and Morosino, on whom he craved Justice.  
The Podestate being satisfied in the Circumstances, sends his two Son● with his Co●ch to St. Francis to allure Imperia thither, who was no sooner come but he charged her and her Enamorato Morosino, with the Murder of her Husband, for which he confined her that day to his own house, and sent his Officers to seize Morosino, who so strongly beset his Lodging, that though he and his two Friends were well armed, they thought their best resistance would be in vain, and therefore delivered up their Persons, Pistols and Swords, and were committed to the common Prison of the City. Bondino hearing the sad News of these passages at Loretto, suddenly fell sick and died.  
The third day after, Morosino, Astonicus and Donato were separately examined, but neither of them would confess any thing, whereupon Astonicus was put to the Rack, which Torments he endured, still affirming his Innocence; an hour after Donato was adjudged to the Scorpions, who being but of a weak Constitution, his right foot no sooner felt the fire, but with Tears he confessed the whole Truth in all its Circumstances. In the Afternoon the Judges sent for Morosino, Imperia and Astonicus, when they charged them with Donato's Confession, who was brought in a Chair to confront them; whereupon they immediately owned the Fact, and confirmed Donato's Account of it. Upon which they were all four sentenced to be hanged next morning, at the common place of Execution. Imperia next day had notice that her Uncle Signior Bondino had obtained her Pardon, at which she asked the Messenger if Morosino was pardoned too, who answered, No; then said she I will die with him; and though the Judges came and advised her to live, and all her Relations entreated her to accept the Pardon, she would not be persuaded, but her answer to the last was, I hate Life if he must die. The next day first Donato and then Astonicus were executed, then came Morosino who taking leave of Imperia earnestly desired her to accept her Life, which now was the only favour she could gratify him in, and so was turned off. Imperia was now afresh solicited by the Judges, Friars and Nuns, but she refused with disdain, and voluntarily went up the Ladder, where making a short Speech to the numerous Spectators, bid the Executioner do his Office, who immediately turned her over. Thus lived and thus died three young Gentlemen, and the constant Imperia, than whom never any died more pitied and lamented.  If we would consider the pain of Sin before we commit it, the Grace of God would either prevent us in it, or the punishment deter us from it.  

HIST. XVII. Don Araneo and Orminta.  
De Cortes causeth his Son Don Araneo to marry Orminta, and then commits Adultery and Incest with her; and by her means and for her sake poisoneth his old Wife Aspasia, and makes her Brother Delrio, kill her Chambermaid Dian. Don Araneo afterwards kills Delrio in a Duel, Orminta's Brains are dashed out by a Horse, and De Cortes beheaded and his Body burnt.  
IN the City of Santarem in Portugal, dwelled an ancient Gentleman named Don Alonzo de Cortes, whose Wife was Dona Aspasia; they had now lived happily in the Sacred Bonds of Marriage near forty years, and had two Sons and four Daughters, all which died young except Don Araneo, who for his excellent Parts, complete Breeding and Courtship, was esteemed a most accomplished Gallant, and one of the prime Cavaliers in all Portugal.  
Six Leagues from Santarem, dwelled a young Gentlewoman very handsome, and a Widow, named Dona Orminta; to this Lady, old Cortes (having now left the Virtues of his Youth to grow vicious in his Age) makes his address by frequent Visits, and discovers the violent flames of his raging Lust, which she severely checks him for, and with peremptory refusals, scorns and denies his lascivious Suit. But he is as constant in his solicitations as she in her disdain, when at last Orminta perceiving, he passionately affected her; told him plainly, that if he ever thought to gratify his desires in her Love and Kindness, he must first cause her to be married to his Son Don Araneo, which once effected, she swore to deny him nothing. De Cortes wondered at this strange proposal, and knew not what readily to answer to it, but going home seriously consults with himself about it, very willing he was to preserve his Son's Honour and Bed undefiled, that point he found very tender, but alas! Orminta's Beauty had so great a power and command over him, that it easily conquered his most serious and virtuous Considerations. The next day he made her another Visit, but she was fixed to her first resolve, and would not recede a tittle from it; when like an old Lecher, rather than lose the pleasure of his obscene Lust, he promised to use all means possible to prevail with his Son to marry her, and at his return home motioned the Match to him; Don Araneo after a short time of Consideration, told him he very well approved of it, especially since he was pleased to direct his Affections in it, and some time after, road over to St. Estianne to make his Court to her, who seemed wondrous coy on purpose to draw him on with more Vigour and Earnestness.  
While thus the Father underhand, and the Son openly, courted Araneo's Mother, by many strong reasons, sought to divert him from her, and peremptorily on her Blessing, forbid him to marry her, adding that if he did, more Misery would attend those unhappy Nuptials, than was yet possible for him either to know or conceive. Don Araneo pondered on these Speeches, and for a month forbore to visit Orminta, which made her frown on De Cortes who inquires of him what made him so strange and cold in his Affections to Orminta; Araneo made a very modest Excuse, wholly concealing his Mother's advice to him in it. Orminta was mad to see her hopes of Don Araneo almost frustrate, and asks De Cortes the cause of his Son's Averseness, who told her he supposed it was his Mother who had diverted him; whereat in a rage she told him, The old Beldame his Wife must first be sent to Heaven before he can hope to enjoy her, or she his Son on Earth; and withal voluntarily offered to make a Visit to her and poison her, which De Cortes would by no means admit of, but promised speedily to perform it himself. Upon this she took care to provide him the Poison, which he administered to her in preserved Barberies, which he observed she loved very well and often eat of, so that in three days after Aspasia died, whereat Don Araneo wept bitterly, not in the least suspecting she was poisoned.  
Orminta understanding Aspasia was dead, is marvellously pleased, and in three months after De Cortes and she dealt so politicly with Araneo, that he married her and brought her home to his Lewd Father's House, who as often as he pleased commits Adultery and Incest with her, but so clandestinely that for two years Araneo had not the least inkling of it. But Diana her waiting Woman, took notice of this unlawful familiarity of hers with De Cortes, which her Mistress understanding, beat her severely for it, and twice whipped her naked in her Chamber, and dragged her about by the Hair; which Diana resolving to be revenged for, acquaints her young Master Araneo with this foul Business, between his Wife and his Father, at which he was so amazed and grieved, that he scorning to be an eye-witness of his own shame, and their grievous Crimes, which had now made them as unworthy of his Sight and Company, as they were of his Love and Respect; took horse and r●de away to Lisbon, and from thence went directly to Spain, resolving to make his Residence with the Court at Madrid.  
De Cortes and Orminta seeing this his sudden departure, which they were conscious would make apparent to the World those horrid Crimes they had so privately indulged themselves in, and knowing that none but Diana could have made this Discovery to her Husband; she provides herself with rods, intending the next morning to glut her anger and Indignation with a sharp Revenge: but Diana having notice of this the night before, taketh Horse, and rides home to her Father's House, and there from point to point relates all the former passages, and publishes, the Adulteries of her Mistress. Orminta being advertized hereof sends for her Brother Delrio, and acquaints him with the base Treachery of her Maid against her Honour; protesting both her own and De Cortes his Innocency, which he too credulously believing, bids her be of good cheer, and he will soon take such Order, that her maid's Tongue shall no longer spit her envenomed malice against her in●ur'd Reputation. Thus to make good his promise to his Sister, Delrio road over to St. Saviour's, and there by night waiting at the Door, as Diana came out in a dark night, ran her through the Body in two several places, upon which she fell down dead without speaking one word, and he posted away to Santarem being neither seen nor discovered. As soon as he came thither he informed his Sister what he had done, who infinitely glad thereof gave him many thanks, and now bend her whole malice against her Husband, Don Araneo, cunningly provoking her Brother to accomplish it, which he (thus exasperated by her Policy) vows to effect, & that he would immediately fight him if he did but know in what part of the World to find him in. When behold (as it were to bind him to his promise) news of his Residence at Madrid is accidentally brought him by a Servant purposely sent to Santarem with these ensuing Letters; the one to his Father the other to his Wife.  
Araneo to De Cortes.  
WAs there no Woman in the World for you to abuse but my Wife? If Nature would not inform you that I am your Son, yet you are my Father; and it should have taught you to have been more natural to me, more honourable to the World, more respectful to yourself, and more religious to God; than to have made yourself Guilty of the foul Crimes of Adultery, and Incest; the least of which is so odious to God and detestable to Men, that I want Terms to express it. The shame and infamy whereof, has made me leave Portugal for Spain, and forsake Santarem to live and die at Madrid. I wonder that you in the Winter of your Age, which makes you fitter for your Grave than my Bed, should be guilty of so unnatural a Crime, which if you do not redeem with Tears and Repentance, I fear you will be as miserable as you have made me unfortunate.  
Araneo.  
Araneo to Orminta.  
IF the consideration that I was thy Husband could not in Grace deter thee from the Commission of that foul Sin of Adultery, yet the remembering that he was my Father should in Nature have made thee both abhor and detest the Incest. What Devil possessed thy Heart with Lust, and thy Soul with Impiety I cannot tell; But since thy inordinate Lusts have brought Misery to me, and shame to thyself; I no longer esteem thee my Wife, but look on thee with an eye of Indignation as the World does of Contempt.  
Araneo.  
De Cortes and Orminta at the reading of these Letters, were stung in their Consciences, and curse Diana and her Memory, yet they resolve to bear up their Reputations in the World, and by the Justification of their Innocency, solicit his return, and to that purpose write to him in the most plausible Terms that devilish Hypocrites could invent; gilding over their Impious Adulteries with Pious Pretensions. Don Araneo having received these Letters, was too prudent to be imposed upon with their Flatteries, or credit their fair words; and that they might know his Resolution, neglecting his Father, sends Orminta this Letter.  
Araneo to Orminta.  
THy Letter has rather confirmed than diminished my Confidence of the Truth of those Bestial Crimes thou art guilty of; and I prise the Apology of thy Innocency at so low a rate, that I disdain it for thy Sake, and thyself for thy own. I grieve at thy Maid Diane's Death, fearing that you both have been concerned in it, and if you are so, be assured that God will revenge it to his Glory, and punish it to your Confusion.  
Araneo.  
This Letter inflames Orminta with envy and malice, who now again repairs to her Brother Delrio as to her Champion, shows him Araneo's Letters, and requests his Advice to regain her Honour, either by bringing home her Husband, or removing him out of the World, that her wrongs may die with him, and be buried together in the Grave of Oblivion. Delrio prays her to refer it to his care, and gives her good night; the next morning taking an intimate and valiant friend, called Signior Gramont, along with him, they went to Madrid, where being arrived, he wrote a Challenge to Araneo, and sent it by Gramont who delivered it to him. Araneo having read it with a cheerful Countenance returned this answer, Pray tell Delrio that my Friend, my Sword, and myself, will be at his Service to morrow at the hour and place appointed.  
The morning no sooner appeared, but Delrio with his friend Gramont came to the Prado on Horseback, and the like did Don Araneo, with a Gentleman named Don Francio Thurino in his Coach. As soon as they saw each other, they threw off their Doublets, and without Compliments drew, and passed furiously, after several Breathe, at the first bout Don Araneo ran Delrio clean through the Body, wherewith falling, he redoubles his Thrust, and nails him stark dead to the Ground, so binding up his Wounds, by a private way he went home to his Lodging, and the next day causes Delrio's Body to be decently buried: after which Gramont returns home, and from point to point relates the Issue of the Combat to De Cortes and Orminta, adding withal, that he was so reserved and strange, that he refused to write to either of them, which, though they seemed to be troubled at, they still continued their beastly sins, as if they either not feared, or not believed a Judgement to come.  
About ten days after, as Orminta was riding to Coimbra, to visit a sick Kinswoman, as she came within a small League of the Town, a Hare suddenly starts up between her Horse's Legs, which so frighted him, that he stumbled, and then threw her to the ground, and kicking her with his hind foot, struck her in the Forehead, and dashed out her Brains.  
At this instant, as the Footboy was lamenting the death of his Mistress, there fortuned to pass by two Corrigidors (or Officers of Justice) of Coimbra, in their Coach, who seeing the mournful Spectacle, alighted out of the Coach, and enquired who she was, whereof being informed by the Footboy, they took up the Body, and carried it to Coimbra, from whence they sent to De Cortes, desiring him to come thither, and take order for her Funeral. In the mean time they secured her ●ings, Jewels, and other Apparel, and searched her Pockets likewise for Gold, in one whereof they found the l●st Letter which her Husband, Don Araneo, had sent her from Madrid, and for the reading thereof withdrew themselves to a private Chamber, whereby understanding the obscene Pleasures, Adultery and Incest of De Cortes with his Daughter in Law, they much wondered, but when they read the Clause wherein he taxeth them for Diana's Death, they say little, but agree to seize and 〈◊〉 De Cortes, assoon as he shall come thither. In the interim th●y a●k the Footboy if his Lady had not a Maid named 〈◊〉, he said Yes, and that she was lately murdered, but by whom unknown; that her Father l●v●d at St. 〈◊〉, and was called Signior Paulo Castrucchio: they secured the Boy and sent presently for Castrucchio; this done, De Cortes the same night arrived and was seized, when he least thought of it, and committed close Prisoner. The next morning came Castrucchio, who hearing all the former Passages and Don Araneo's Letter, believes them guilty and craves Justice on De Cortes for the same. After Dinner they sent for him to appear, and Castrucchio accused him, but De Cortes stoutly denied it, and being put to the Rack, bore the Torments of it with a fortitude beyond his Ag● or Strength. Castrucchio then prayed eight days time, to make good his accusation, which is freely granted, and in two days time, brings in a new Indictment against him for poisoning his Lady Aspasia. Upon this he is sent for to appear a second time, but as before, so now he resolutely denies all, and is adjudged again to the Rack, but before his Torments, the Judges sent some Divines to him to work upon his Conscience, which they did with so good effect, that he confessed himself guilty of poisoning his own Lady, but altogether innocent of Diana's Death. Then being asked if Orminta was guilty, he said, true it was that she bought the poison and he administered it; for which her dead Body was that afternoon burnt at the common place of Execution, and De Cortes was condemned to lose his head, from which Sentence he appealed to Santarem, where the first Sentence is confirmed, and an addition thereto, that his Body should be burnt and his Ashes thrown into the Air.  
The next morning a Scaffold was erected at his own Door, whereon he lost his Head, the rest of the Sentence being executed to the satisfaction of Justice and content of all the Spectators.  Thus the wicked Lust of old De Cortes, meeting with the insatiable Ambition of young Orminta, they agreed in a hellish Contract, which the Devil witnessed, and the Vengeance of Heaven severely punished.  

HIST. XVIII. Benevente and his two bloody Daughters.  
Fidelia and Celestina cause Carpi and Monteleon, with their two Lackeys, Lorenzo and Anselmo, to murder their Father, Captain Benevente. Monteleon and his Lackey are drowned. Fidelia hangs herself. Lorenzo condemned for a Robbery, on the Gallows confesses the Murder. Carpi is beheaded, and Celestina beheaded and burnt.  
IN Otranto, a City of Apulia in Italy, dwelled an ancient, rich and valiant Gentleman, termed Capt. Benevente, who, by his deceased Lady, had a Son, named Signior Alcasero, and two Daughters, called Fidelia and Celestina, who continued at home with their Father, whilst Alcasero lived altogether at Naples, with the Spanish Viceroy.  
Capt. Benevente was a Gentleman beloved and honoured by all the Nobility of Apulia, so that his House was like an Academy for all Martial Exercises; and as the Beauty of his two Daughters, amongst so great resort, could not be long unseen, or uncourted; so were they addressed to by many Persons, of great Worth and Quality, who sought them in Marriage; but such was the averseness of their Father's Temper, that he constantly crossed all motions of that nature, to the great Trouble and Discontent of his Daughters. Alcasero is now returned from Naples to Otranto, and his two Sisters acquaint him with the severity of their Father's Humour towards them, and desire him to intercede for them, who dealt so effectually with his Father, that he told him, he had provided the Baron of Carpi for Fidelia, and the Knight Mont●leon for Celestina, and that in fifteen days they would come over to see them, at which the young Ladies were extremely pleased. Within the time appointed these two Noblemen come, and are assoon misliked, Carpi being Crookbackt, and Monteleon lame of a Leg: Benevente receives and entertains them nobly, whilst his Daughters treat them with Frowns and Disdain; he tells them plainly they shall marry these, and no other; the Father presses them, and the Noblemen importune them to confirm the Contracts, but they plainly answer, they neither can nor will force their Affections to comply with all his unreasonable Commands. The young Ladies are very much dissatisfied with their Father's Perverseness, who, they think, usurps too much upon the freedom of their choice, by his positive and rigorous Orders. This, at length, bred ill blood, and they begin to hate him, which Fidelia first discovers to her Sister in her Complaints, That, for her part, since her Father is so resolute, she had rather see him laid in his Grave, than be forced by him to marry that Man she cannot affect: Celestina declared herself of the same Opinion, adding withal, that the sooner he was dispatched, the better: Thus they conclude his death, and as to the manner of it, after many Consultations, they think it most safe to engage Carpi and Monteleon to effect it. To this end they now change the Scene, and pretend to love those they mortally hated, which so pleases the two Noblemen, that with much urgency they importune them to Marriage; but they told them it was impossible, so long as their Father lived; for though he seemed to countenance and encourage them in their Suit, yet he had given them express Commands not to love them, which was the true reason of that 'Slight and Disrespect they had all along received them with. The Noblemen were taken in the trap, and never considered the Treachery of those deceitful and bloody minded Ladies, but jointly engage themselves, in a short time to remove him who was the mistaken Subject of their Hate, and his Daughter's Disobedience.  
Capt. Benevente used often, after Dinner, to ride to his Vineyard, and now and then to a neighbouring Village: Carpi and Monteleon took their lackeys, Lorenzo and Anselmo, and disguising themselves, set upon him at the corner of a Wood, with their Swords and Pistols, attended only with his Servant Fiamenti, whom after they had murdered, they carried their Bodies to the top of an adjacent Hill, and threw them down into a deep Quarry, full of thick Bushes and Brambles. Then they consulted of their Flight, Carpi took Post to Naples, and Monteleon with his Lackey road to Brundisium, but on the way Monteleon's Horse fell down dead under him, and he was forced to dismount his Lackey and ride his horse, leaving him to follow after afoot. At length near the Village Blanquettelle he met with a swift Ford passable only with Horses, which constrained him to take up his Lackey Anselmo behind him; but in the midst of the Water his Horse stumbled, and so violent was the Torrent of the River that before they could recover themselves, they were both drowned.  
By this time Benevente and his Man, were both missing and not to be heard of, Alcasero who was now at Naples, was acquainted with it by his Sisters and grievously laments, for fear any mischief should have befallen him, promising great rewards to any person who could give intelligence of him. After five day's search and no news of him, his Daughters with all the counterfeit Passions of Sorrow, begin to suspect he is murdered by his Servant Fiamenti, who alone went out with him, and had not since been heard of. Alcasero's Grief was as real as theirs was feigned, and left nothing unattempted that might lead to a discovery, but all had hitherto been in Vain; when it happened one day, that some Gentlemen who were hunting the Stag near Alpiata, he being now tired with a long pursuit ran for Shelter in to the Quarry among the Bushes, whither the Hunters following him, they discovered two dead Bodies, which the Crows had pitifully mangled, and approaching nearer, they knew them by their clothes to be Benevente and his Man Fiamenti, which they gave Alcasero and his Sister's notice of, the Bodies were brought to Otranto that night in a Coach, where they were the same Evening interred, with as much decency as the short time would allow, but with Floods of Tears from Alcasero, whilst his two Sisters wept like Crocodiles. Next day News came, that Monteleon and his Lackey were both drowned, which added yet more to the satisfaction of these bloody Sisters, who heartily wished that Carpi and his Lackey, might meet with the same Fate. Six weeks were now past, since the Funeral of Benevente when Alcasero began to think it strange that Carpi came not to condole with him for his Father's Death and renew his Suit to his Sister, which made him entertain some jealous thoughts, though at the same time, he had no probable ground of Suspicion. But about a Month after, Carpi having heard nothing of the Premises, sends a Lackey over to Fidelia at Otranto with this Letter.  
Carpi to Fidelia.  
THere are some reasons, for which I have not lately seen Otranto, what they are none can better imagine than yourself; when thy Sorrows are overblown I will come to thee having now given thee so true and real a proof of my Affection, that thou canst not in justice ever doubt thereof. I pray signify to me how thy Brother stands affected towards me; Thy Answer shall have many kisses, and I will ever both honour and bless the hand that writ it.  
Carpi.  
The Lackey comes to Otranto, delivers the Letter to Fidelia and requests her Answer; But she was now wholly altered from her former Resolutions, a deep Melancholy seized her even to despair, she hated all Company, was afraid of her own Shadow, and thinks every House will fall upon her Head; this makes her forsake her Devotion, look pale and ghastly, in which condition (at the Importunity of Carpi's Lackey) she returned this Answer.  
Fidelia to Carpi.  
MY Father's Death hath altered my Disposition, for I am wholly addicted to Mourning and not to Marriage. I pray trouble not yourself to come to Otranto, for the best Comfort I can receive, is, that it is impossible for me to receive any. I never doubted thy affection, nor will give thee cause to fear mine, for I am resolved either to marry thee or my Grave. How my Brother stands affected I cannot tell, but I think he neither loves thee for my sake, nor myself for Thine. Live thou as happy as I fear I shall die miserable.  
Fidelia.  
Having sent away this Letter, she is now again distracted in her Thoughts, which her Brother and Friends endeavour to remove by good Counsel; but all in vain, since they are ignorant of the true cause thereof. In a word, she grows weary both of the World, and her Life, and would kiss that hand would kill her, having her Father's Murder always in her mind, which was so terrible to her, that she resolved to lay violent hands on herself, rather than endure the tormenting pains of an evil Conscience. To this end she took Poison, but that would not work; she sought her Knife and Penknife, but finding neither, she bolted fast her Chamber door, and tying one of her Silk Garters to the Tester of the Bed, there hanged herself. Dinner being served in, Alcasero and Celestina call for their Sister Fidelia, when one of the Servants going to her Chamber, brought word, that the Key was on the outside, and the door bolted within, yet she answered not. Whereupon Alcasero ordered the door to be broke open, where entering, he saw his Sister Fidelia hanging to the Bedstead dead, and her Body coal black, and horribly stinking, at which sight they were all affrighted: The Officers of Justice being first acquainted with his dreadful Accident, gave leave that the Body should be taken down, and privately buried in the Garden.  
Return we now to Carpi, who having received Fidelia's Letter, wonders at the Contents, but resolves to second his first with this ensuing Letter.  
Carpi to Fidelia.  
HAd not thy last forbid me to pay those Respects due to thy Merit and my Affection, I had seen Otranto on purpose to comfort my Fidelia, though, were matters rightly weighed, I have more reason to sorrow than thyself, yet I hope I am far from Despairing. Endeavour to love thyself, and not hate me, so shalt thou draw Felicity out of Affliction, and I Security out of Danger. Let thy second Letter give me half so much joy as thy first did Grief, and then shall I rejoice more than I now lament.  
Carpi.  
This Letter was brought by Fiesco, one of Carpi's Lackeys, who coming to Otranto, as he walked in the Court before the House, was spied by Alcasero, who sent to know whose Servant he was, but he refused to give any account. Alcasero ordered him to be carried down into the Cellar, where he was plentifully entertained with Wine, and invited to Dinner, but would neither by entreaties nor threats be prevailed upon to discover himself. Alcasero told him he saw him there fifteen days ago, but Fiesco is silent; Alcasero then offered him twenty Ducats to disclose himself and his business. This took, and the Lackey told him he belonged to Carpi, and had a Letter from him to Fidelia, which he delivers to Alcasero, and thereby his suspicion of Carpi for his Father's death revives, but knowing silence is one main point to make out such a Discovery, he bid the Lackey stay that night, and he would give him his Answer next morning, which was this: Tell the Baron of Carpi, thy Master, that my Sister Fidelia is in another World, and that I shortly resolve to see him at Naples, and in the interim will keep his Letter.  
Fiesco knowing his fault, never returns to his Master, and Alcasero minding his Promise, speeds to Naples, to the Criminal Judges, there accuses Carpi for Benevente's Murder, for which he is apprehended, and adjudged to the Rack, which torments he endured, and still denied all, so that the Court by public Sentence clear him: but Alcasero will not; for after six months' time, when Carpi was sound in his Limbs again, by Plantinus he sent him this challenge.  
Alcasero to Carpi.  
ALthough the Law hath cleared thee for my Father's Murder, yet my Conscience cannot; and I should be a Monster of Nature not to seek Revenge for his Death who gave me Life and Being: Wherefore I request thee to meet me at Eight to morrow, after Supper, at the West end of the Common Vineyard, where I will attend thee with a couple of Rapiers, the choice whereof shall be thine. If thou wilt make use of a Second, he shall not depart without meeting one to exchange a Thrust or two with him.  
Alcasero.  
Upon Receipt hereof Carpi was in doubt with himself what to do, but at last bid Plantinus tell him, That though he had not deserved his Malice yet he accepted his Challenge, but would fight single, being unprovided of a Second. The morning is now come, and both Carpi and Alcasero met in the field, where it was Carpi's fortune to have the day, by leaving Alcasero speechless, (and as he supposed dead,) in the field, but by the great Care and Skill of his Chirurgeon he was at last cured of his Wounds, and lived to see his Father's Murder discovered, and the Assassins' punished.  
Assoon as Alcasero was recovered of his Wounds, he returned to Otranto, where Celestina did now more triumph for Carpi's freedom than before she trembled at his Imprisonment. So that now being out of fear, she marries a noble young Gentleman, with whom she had lived above six Weeks; but Lorenzo, Carpi's Page, who had his Master's Pocket at pleasure, to keep secret Benevente's Murder, grows debauched, lewd and dissolute, and being one day sent on an Errand by his Master, he observed a Gentlewoman to pull out a Purse of Gold, wherein were five and twenty Ducatoons in Gold, which he stole from her, and being taken in the fact, was the next day convicted, and adjudged to be hanged. Carpi was strangely surprised to hear this News, went to Prison to him, and promised, if he would not reveal the business he was concerned in, he would be a faithful and constant Friend to his Mother and Brothers.  
Lorenzo promised secrecy, but being brought to the Gallows, upon the Ladder, confesses that he and the Baron of Carpi his Master, together with Monteleon and Anselmo, had murdered Benevente and his Man Fiamenti, and threw them into the Quarry, the which he took upon his Death was true, and so was turned off. Lorenzo being thus hanged, Carpi is apprehended, who being put to the Rack, discovers the Murder in every particular as Lorenzo had done, adding withal, that Celestina and her dead Sister Fidelia drew them into it, protesting they had never done it but at their Requests. Upon which he was condemned to have his right hand cut off first, and then his Head. Which done Celestina was seized at a Wedding, making merry with her Friends, and committed to Prison, who understanding the former Confessions and Executions, confessed the whole, and so was judged to have her Head cut off, her Body burnt, and her Ashes thrown into the Air, which the next day was performed accordingly.  Oh wicked and bloody Daughters of unhapy Benevente! If Murder is a Scarlet Sin, Parricide is a Crime so much of a deeper Die, as the indispensable Duty to our Parents is above our common Respect to our Neighbours.  

HIST. XIX. Dario and Cleandra.  
Coligni seeks Cleandra in Marriage, but she loves Dario, Varini courts her for Coligni but in vain, whereupon Coligni rails against both, for which Varini challenges him but is killed. Dario desires to marry her, but his Father is against it, and sends him away, whereupon Cleandra dies for Grief; Dario fights Coligni, and gives him his Life, for which he basely Murders him and is beheaded.  
IN Rome were two noble young Gentlemen, the one named Signior Francisco Coligni, the other Signior Andre o Varini, the latter of which had a Sister fair and young named Cleandra, and her Coligni had chosen for his Mistress; And as his Wealth made him confident, so he in amorous and honourable Terms, courts her by himself and Friends, but he is not so full of hope, as she is of disdain, and in few words tells him his Suit will be in Vain, for her Affections are pre-engaged. But he unwilling to give over his Suit, for the first denials, acquaints her Brother Varini with his Passion for her, and desires his assistance, which he promises, and like a true Friend, earnestly solicits for Coligni, but with no success, for she tells him her Heart is already disposed of; he desires to know to whom; she told him (after she had sworn him to secrecy) to Signior Pedro Dario; at which he left her, and gave his Friend Coligni, her definitive Answer.  
Coligni hearing this grows enraged, and abruptly walks from him, and the next day, in Cardinal Farnesi's Gallery, being asked by four or five Gentlemen, for his Friend and Companion Varini, very passionately answers, He was a base beggarly Gentleman, and his Sister Cleandra▪ a lascivious dissembling Strumpet; which words were carried the same night to Varini by some of the Company, which he highly resents, but chiefly for his Sister's Sake, and will not bear them. Therefore next day he goes to Coligni's Father's House, and asks for his Son; his Father directed him into the Garden, where he enters and meets Coligni with his Hat in his hand, and desires him to dismiss his Servants for he had a Secret to impart to him. Coligni sends them away, and then Varini charges him with the former Words, whereat Coligni in a great heat, swore they were his, and what his Tongue had affirmed, his Sword should justify, on which they cover and abruptly part. Cleandra having understood that her Brother was gone to find out Coligni, waited his return to know the Issue, which he told her in general Terms, should shortly prove to her Honour and his Content, and praying her not to be troubled, went to his Chamber, and wrote this Challenge.  
Varini to Coligni.  
THy scandalous Reports like thyself, are so Base, and I and my Sister so Honourably descended and educated, that I doubt not but the disgrace, which thou hast so unjustly reflected on us, will e'er long return upon thyself to thy eternal Shame and Dishonour. Wherefore as thou art a Gentleman and a Roman meet me at 5 to morrow morning, behind Cardinal Barronvoes Palace, where I mean to take thy Life in satisfaction to my injured Honour, which is all thou canst give.  
Varini.  
This being delivered to Coligni, he returned this Answer, Tell Signior Varini, that I will not fail to meet him according to his Appointment.  
The next morning they met, attended only by their Surgeons, where at the third Encounter Varini's Foot slipping, Col●gni took the advantage, running him through the Body, killed him dead upon the spot. Coligni with his Surgeon return to the City, where he lies private at a Friend's House near his Fathers. The News of this Duel and the event thereof, is quickly spread abroad, whereat Cleandra and her Father grieve inordinately. To allay and mitigate their Grief, Signior Pedro Dario proffers his Service, to right his Mistress' Honour and Revenge Varini's Death, which both Cleandra and her Father dissuade him from. Coligni is now grown so foolishly sottish, as notwithstanding the former and present disadvantages he was under, he again by Letters solicits his Suit to Cleandra; but the report of a strict search, which was ordered to be made for him forced him to retire, (disguised in a Capuchins Habit) where he stole out of the City, and took Post to Palermo.  
Dario begins now to make his private Affection public, and as he had gained Cleandra's Heart, endeavours to obtain her Friends consent to the Match, of which his Father having private notice, sent him from Rome to Naples, and thence shipped him to the Island of Caprea to the Guard and keeping of Alphonsus Drisca Captain of the Island, with charge not to permit him to return in a whole year without express order.  
These Afflictions (to lose her Brother and her Lover, and suffer in honour) coming upon Cleandra, so immediately after one another, over-charge her with grief, whereupon she falls desperately sick, at which receiving a Letter from Dario, she returns him an Answer, and twenty days after dies a Love-Martyr. Old Dario glad of this, sends a Servant to Caprea to recall his Son, who at the sad news of Cleandra's Death, grieves beyond Measure, and so immoderate was his Sorrow that had not the hopes of being revenged on Coligni, revived his fainting Spirits, he had then followed his beloved Cleandra into another World. In order to which, he got privately on Board a Neapolitan Galley, bound for Sicily, and lands at Palermo, where the first night lying private in his Inn, he inquires out Coligni, and understanding he was in the City, sent his Lackey the next morning to him with this Challenge.  
Dario to Coligni  
HAving wounded my dear Cleandra in the scandal of her Honour, and killed her Brother Varini in the Field, for which she has now sorrowed away her Life; my trouble to survive her makes me contemn my own, and seek thine; to which end I have left Caprea to find Sicily, and in it Thyself; wherefore as thou art Coligni, fail not to meet me this Evening, between five and six, in the next Meadow behind the Carthusians Monastery. Thy Generosity invites Thee, and my Affection and Honour oblige me, to be the only Guests at this bloody Banquet.  
Dario.  
Coligni receives this Challenge, but not very willingly, yet bids the Lackey tell his Master, he would not fail to give him his welcome to Palermo. The hour is now come, and both Champions meet in the field, attended only by their Surgeons, who withdrawing into the next field, they engage with Fury and Resolution: At the three first Passes Dario gives Coligni three deep Wounds, without receiving the least Injury from him, whereat Coligni's heart failing, he threw away his Rapier, confessed his Scandal on Cleandra, and begged his Pardon. Dario's Revenge though not satisfied herewith, yet his noble Spirit disdaining a base Act, gives Coligni his Life, whereupon they put up their Swords, and went together into the City.  
The● News of this Duel is got to Rome before them, (though Dario makes haste thither) and Coligni having obtained his Pardon for kill Varini, came not long after. All here generally applaud Dario's Affection and Humanity, but scorn Coligni, for begging and receiving his Life, which, though he cannot well digest, he knows not how to redress; for he dares not fight him again, and to kill him in his Bed he cannot, for he has no admittance to him; and to pistol him in the Street is dangerous, because of his many followers: So that at last he resolves to shoot him from a Window, with a Petronel, as he passes along the Street, and understanding that Dario used to go to his morning Mass, at the English College, he provides himself accordingly. On a Monday morning early, he puts himself into an unknown house, between the said College, and the Palace of Farresi, and having charged his piece with a brace of Bullets, primed and cocked, he saw Dario in the Street, upon his prancing Barbary Horse and foot cloth, and as he passed over against him he let fly, and lodged both the Bullets in his Breast, with which he tumbles from his Horse dead to the ground, only giving two or three lamentable groans.  
The report of the Gun, and smoke at the Window, discover the House, where his Servants running in, they search the House, and in the Chamber found the Petronel, the People of the House affirming, that the Gentleman who had done the Murder, fled upon a swift Spanish Jennet by the back gate, and that they neither knew him, nor durst stop him. Thus he escaped with full hopes to get clear away, but as he galloped through Campo del F●ogo, at the farther end thereof, two Bricklayers building of a House upon a Scaffold two stories high, both the Scaffold and Bricklayers fall down, and beat him and his Horse to the ground. The news of the Murder was not yet come so far, but his fear hastening him, he soon recovered his Horse, and mounting, set spurs to him, but had not rode far before his Jennet fell, and put his Shoulder out of joint, so that he could not rise with his Master, who finding no other way, betook himself to his heels, and fled to Nero's Tower, and there in the Ruins of divers stupendious Buildings hid himself, but within two hours was discovered, and instantly imprisoned.  
The second morning after he was brought before the Judges, to whom he freely confessed the Fact, and implored their Mercy; but they, for Expiation of his Crime, first adjudge his two hands to be cut off, before the House where he shot Dario, and afterwards to be beheaded at the common place of Execution, his Head to be set upon a Pole, over St. Iohn de Lateran's Gate, and his Body to be thrown into Tiber, which the next day was accordingly executed in the presence of many thousand Spectators.  He that is encouraged to the commission of Sin, (as in the Example of Coligni) in hopes to conceal it, or the Author, loves the Crime, though he hates the Punishment; but where the first is his Delight, the second shall be his Reward.  

HIST. XX. De Mansey and Almanda.  
De Mansey being in love with Almanda, hires Lycon and Cruento, two Bravo 's, to murder her Husband Perron, and then marries her. Almanda slights old Mansey, who (as he was forewarned) is stabbed in his Chamber by Rosino, his Wife's Gallant, who was in Bed with her. Lycon and Cruento coming to rob the House, are apprehended for De Mansey's Murder, which they deny, but confess Perron's, for which they are broke on the Wheel. Rosino is discovered, and hanged, Almanda beheaded, and De Mansey's dead Body hanged first, and then thrown into the River Ormo.  
IN Vannes, a City of Britain in France, lived Monsieur Boren, a Gentleman of ancient Family, and fair Estate, who having several Children, his eldest named Monsieur de Mansey, whilst he was yet very young, was sent over to his Uncle, Mr. Verdue, who lived at Turenne, in the Court of the Duke of Savoy, where he was both in his Favour and Service considerably preferred. De Mansey being arrived to the Age of Five and twenty, his Uncle died, and left him sole Heir to a plentiful Estate, which was very much advanced by the addition he received by the death of his Father, at Vannes, and afterwards of several other Relations, who all, as it were, conspired to make him rich and great. De Mansey continued his Residence at Turenne, it being the place of his Education, and most familiar Acquaintance, but generally once a year, made a Journey to Vannes, to receive his Rents, and see in what condition his Tenants were, and how well they improved his Lands. This being his Custom, for several years he kept constant Stages in his Journey, and every night lay at such Towns, and such Inns as his long travelling that Rode had best acquainted him with. It happened that coming into his Inn one night at St. Claney, (a Town in the mid way between Turenne and Vannes,) alighting from his Horse, he called for his Host, who was familiarly called by his Friends, honest Adrian; his Hostess with a low Courtesy, welcomed him to her House, and with seeming trouble and perplexity, told him that her Husband was dead, and had been so for near six months. De Mansey condoled with her, for the loss of so good an Host and so kind a Husband, when being conducted to his Chamber, a ground Room where he constantly lay, he gave order for Supper, and designing to rise soon in the Morning, went early to Bed.  
It was now about midnight, as he judged by the Moon which shone full in at the Window, when he heard a noise as if his Door opened, (for his wand'ring thoughts disturbed his Repose,) and drawing the Curtain in a fright, to see who it was entered at that unseasonable hour, he saw the fair Image and Representation of his Host standing at his Bed side, in the same proportion as alive, with a pale look, and his Throat cut from ear to ear. This Spectacle did very much surprise him at first, but after a little time recovering himself, he thus spoke to it, If thou art what thou appearest to be, the Ghost of my deceased Host, I conjure thee by all that's Sacred, to tell me what disturbs thy quiet in the Grave, and what thy business is with me. I come, said the Apparition, to acquaint thee, that I am basely and barbarously murdered by my Wife, her Sister, and the Ostler, and request thee (whose Friendship I have always been obliged to) to acquaint the Officers of justice with it, and under this Bed they shall find my Body privately buried, with a stake thrust through my heart: at these words the Apparition vanished, and De Mansey endeavoured to compose himself to rest, but in vain; for his thoughts were so intent on what he had seen, and the Discovery his Host had made him, that he began to consider his own Life might be in danger, if all this was not delusion, which he did not in the least suspect.  
About an hour after he heard a second noise at his door of some persons tampering with the Lock, when having his Pistols at his Bed's head, ready charged, he prepared himself to receive them: De Mansey got out of his Bed, and stood behind the Curtains, his door with a sudden shock was violently forced open, at which some Persons entered, but who, or how many he could not tell, (for the light of the Moon was now shaded by a cloud) however he discharged his Pistols amongst them at which he heard a great shriek, and two or three lamentable groans; the report of the Pistol alarmed all the Lodgers, and some of the Neighbours, who presently came to know the meaning of it. At the entrance into his Chamber they found the Ostler upon the floor, shot into the Breast, and almost dead. By this time the Officers of the Town were come with the Watch, to know the reason of so unusual a disturbance. The Ostler and the whole Family were secured that night, and the next morning they were all examined, and the Ostler having no hopes of recovery, confessed, that himself, his Mistress, and her Sister, had designed to rob and Murder De Mansey, for which he was now heartily sorry and repentant. De Mansey seeing how miraculously he had been preserved by the appearance of his Host, relates the whole Story to the Judges in all its Circumstances, and accuses the Ostler, his Hostess and her Sister, of the Murder, and to confirm the truth of what he said, desired they would search under the Bed in his Chamber, which they did, and there found his Body with a Stake through his Breast: These Circumstances made their Gild so apparent, that neither of them had Confidence enough to deny it, for which the next day his Wife was burnt, and the Ostler and his Sister hanged. De Mansey was so much concerned at his own preservation, and the Discovery he had so strangely made of his Landlord's Murder, that he stays to see the Execution of the Criminals, and removes his Lodging to another House: when being in Bed the night after they had suffered, his Landlord appeared to him again all in white, and thanked him for the trouble he had given him and the Justice he had done him; adding, that if any thing lay in his Power, whereby he might oblige him and express his Gratitude he would willingly do it. De Mansey told him he expected neither Thanks nor Reward, but if departed Souls know what's hid from mortal Eyes, if he could tell him when he should die three hours before, as it was his greatest concernment it would be his greatest satisfaction. The Ghost promised if (it should ever be in his power), to perform it.  
De Mansey returned to Turenne, where amongst his Friends he would sometimes discourse this Story, ask them if they thought it was in the Power of his deceased Host to make good his Promise to him, in that nature he desired it. It was now upwards of twenty years, since this had happened to De Mansey; and he now grown into years being almost sixty, when he, whom all the charms of Love had never affected, was now o'ercome by those of Lust; The Beautiful Almanda who was both young and fair, was the Object he so much admired and doted on. Almanda was the Daughter of Monsieur Chartres, a Lady highly virtuous had not Ambition poisoned her excellent Qualities, and was two years before, married to a young Gentleman more extravagant than rich, whose name was Monsieur Perron; This Lady▪ De Mansey courted with assiduous Visits and costly Presents, both which she willingly received, but would by no means yield up her Honour to his lustful Embraces. Having thus been at great expense of Time and Moneys, without any hopes of success, one day resolving to urge his Amours with the most prevailing Arguments, he offered her a vast Treasure to consent to his desires, which she absolutely refused, telling him, if she was at liberty she could love him as a Husband, but never as a Gallant, which was a Crime so odious to her, that all the Riches of the World should never tempt her to the violation of her Marriage Vows. De Mansey either misunderstanding her meaning, or out of despair of attaining his Ends, resolves to put her into such a condition, as she might with honour comply with him; and to that purpose hires two Bravoes, called Lycon and Cruento, to murder her Husband Perron, for the Reward of five hundred ducats, which they agreed to, and about a Week after, as he came late from the Tavern, in a dark night, set upon him in the Streets with their Rapiers, and after several Wounds left him dead upon the place, and acquainted De Mansey what they had done, who immediately paid the Money, and they made their escape to Genoa.  
Almanda grievously lamented the death of her Husband, and gave the Officers of Justice, all possible encouragement to search after, and discover the Murderers, but all in vain; three days after his Body was decently interred by Almanda, with greater show of grief than cost; and about six months after she was solemnly married to De Mansey, who, as an Argument of his Affection, discovered how instrumental he had been to discharge her of those Bonds which were so uneasy to her. Almanda had not been long married to De Mansey, but as she was pleased with the present state and advancement of her fortune, so did she loathe the cold Embraces of her impotent Husband, which would by no means suit with the warm and vigorous desires of her Youth. To remedy this intolerable Evil, she familiarly acquaints herself with a young Gentleman, called Signior Rosino, an Italian by birth, who for a Murder committed at Venice had fled to Turenne. No sooner was old De Mansey gone abroad, but Rosino supplied his place at home, and all those hours passed away in sighs, when De Mansey's Company prevented her of her beloved Rosino's. This the Servants could not but take some notice of, but her imperious Sway, and absolute Command, awed them into silence.  
Lycon and Cruento having riotously spent their Moneys, came privately back to Turenne, and told De Mansey their great Wants, that the hazard and danger which they ran in accomplishing his Desires, deserved more than so poor a Reward; that he was rich enough, and aught to supply their necessities, which were the effect of their faithful Service to him. De Mansey was very much surprised at this Discourse, and promised largely, but at present he was unfurnished of Moneys, and could not answer their occasions till he had received his Rents, which would be within a Month, or little more; with this Answer they went away seemingly satisfied.  
Four days after De Mansey went to his Country House at St. Agneaw, five Miles from Turenne, with a design to stay a week, for the advantage of the Air. This was a blessed opportunity for Rosino and Almanda, who Improve each minute, and day and night revel in the close Enjoyment of forbidden pleasures. De Mansey had now been but three days at St. Agneaw, and finding the Air not agreeable to his present Indisposition, resolves that Afternoon to return to Turenne, but setting out late, night grew upon him, which proving dark, and being without his Servant, he was forced to ride more easily, so that the Clock struck Twelve, just as he arrived at the Gates of Turenne. But that which most troubled him, was, that when he was yet two Miles off, at the upper end of a Lane, his Horse snorted and started, and would by no means go forward; at which looking to see what the matter was, he saw the shape of his Host, honest Adrian, who appeared to him clothed all in white, and bid him fear not, for he came only to make good his promise to him, and to tell him that within three hours he should be as he was; and at those words vanished and left De Mansey in great Horror and Consternation, who remembering it was his own Request did now firmly believe it would be accordingly, and as he rid on, disposed his thoughts into Meditations of another World. At the Gates of the City he was well known and presently admitted, but when he came to his own house (which was walled about) seeing no light he concluded his Family all in Bed, and it would be to little purpose, to endeavour to awaken them at that distance. Considering what to do in that great Perplexity he was in, he remembered his Gardener lived hard by, and if he could raise him he might get in by the Garden Door. When coming to his House he knocked and called, the Gardener knowing his Master's Voice he presently rose; De Mansey told him he was very ill, and for that reason had returned late from St. Agneaw, that his Servants were all in Bed, and he had no way to get into his House, but by his Key through the Garden. The Gardener put his Horse into the Stable and went with him. De Mansey appeared very melancholy, and complained of his present Illness, and as they walked together, told him he was sure he should die that night, for as he came along within two miles of Turenne he had seen the Ghost of his Host, who had told him so; by this time they were got into the Garden, and the Gardener called up the Groom, who opened the Door and let him in. De Mansey ordered him to go back with the Gardener and take care of his Horse, and with the Candle in his hand went up Stairs into his Study, which was the next Room to his Bedchamber. Almanda hearing some body go into the Study, asked who was there. 'Tis I my dear, answered De Mansey; at which she was at her Wit's end, and so affrighted she did not know what to do, to conceal her Gallant Rosino, who was in Bed with her; De Mansey having finished his Devotions, came into his Chamber to go to Bed, and as he entered Rosino stepping out from behind the door, stabbed him to the heart with his Stiletto, at which De Mansey dropped down dead, giving only one lamentable groan. Never were two persons in greater confusion than Rosino and Almanda now are, they know not what course to take to prevent the Discovery, or to discharge themselves of the Gild of this Murder, which would certainly be known in the morning. As they were consulting what measures to take, Almanda told Rosino, that his Shirt was all bloody, and advised him to change it for a clean one of her Husbands, which she fetched him, and wrapped up his and the Stiletto in a black Scarf of her own, which she put into a green Silk bag, and locked them up in her Trunk. At last it was agreed that Rosino should make his escape immediately, and after he was gone, Almanda having laid a Stiletto of De Mansey's all bloody by him, should in a great fright call up her Servants, and say that he had murdered himself. This was resolved upon as the best expedient they could at present find out, but Fortune seemed to be more kind to them than they could expect or design. Rosino was no sooner gone down the back Stairs, but Almanda heard a noise of some Persons coming up the other way, which her Fear and Gild assured her were the Officers of Justice, come to apprehend her for this barbarous Murder. They first opened De Mansey's Study, where they found the Key in it, and ransacked all there; then came into the Chamber, where they found him dead upon the floor, at which they were strangely surprised, but pity, or the curiosity to know how he came so, was no part of their business; when coming to the Bed, they seized Almanda, and gagged her, and then rifled her Trunks of her Plate, Jewels, and what they liked best. Rosino heard the noise, and had the same apprehensions of danger as Almanda, believing them to have been the Officers of Justice, or some of the Servants of the House who were risen to apprehend him, for which reason he made all possible haste, and having a Key in his Pocket of a private Door where he used to come in, went off undiscovered. The noise these Thiefs had made, awakened the Servants, who coming up into De Mansey's Chamber, found him dead upon the Floor, Almanda bound and gagged in Bed, and the Chamber and his Study robbed, but those who had been the Actors of this bloody Tragedy were fled, of whom they hoped Almanda could give some Account, who was presently unbound, and with showers of Tears told them that Thiefs had been there and murdered her Husband, because he would not discover his Money, which they supposed was a greater Sum than they could find, and that they had most cruelly used her, and had they not come in at that instant, had certainly murdered her too. The Servants presently called the Watch and made what search and pursuit after them they could, and Almanda being now recovered from her Fright, smiled to herself to see how favourable Fortune was to her, and that this lucky Robbery of the Thiefs would for ever secure her and Rosino from being either charged or suspected of De Mansey's Murder. But see when the prosperous Sinner thinks himself most secure, then often is the Vengeance of Heaven at the Door, ready to punish those very Crimes, which he thinks himself most successful in.  
The next day two of the Robbers, by the industrious search of the Servants, were apprehended in their Lodging in St. Leonard's Street, and some of the Plate, Jewels and other things taken with them; who were presently brought before the Judge-Advocate of Turenne, and charged with the Robbery and Murder, and several of the Goods produced in Evidence against them, and amongst other things the green Silk Bag, which was tied up fast, and had not yet been opened. The Judge asked what that Bag was, and what in't, which being opened, they found a bloody Shirt and a Stiletto wrapped up together in a black Scarf. The Thiefs confessed the Robbery, but utterly denied the Murder, for which they were put to the Rack, when one of them confessed, their names were Lycon and Cruento, that De Mansey had hired them for 500 Ducats to murder Monsieur Perron, which they had effected some years ago, and having spent all their money, they solicited him for more, and not receiving a speedy Supply, and understanding he was at his Country House, they resolved to rob him here; and that assoon as they came into his Chamber they saw him dead, and a Stiletto all bloody lying by him, and no person in the Room, but his Wife in Bed, and that he took that green Bag out of her Trunk, and till now knew not what was in it. Cruento confirmed what Lycon had confessed in every particular, and one of De Mansey's Servants said, the Stiletto was the same or very like that he had often seen Signior Rosino wear, who had been frequently at his Master's house; This gave the Judge some suspicion he might be privy to the Murder, considering the Discourse of the Town, which spoke loudly of the endeared Familiarity between Rosino and Almanda, upon which he sent a Relation of his own to acquaint Almanda that the Robbers were taken, and that he desired to hear what Evidence she could give against them; she immediately came suspecting nothing, and in the interim the Captain of the Watch brought Rosino before the Judge, complaining that because he had refused to let him through the Gates at an unseasonable hour he endeavoured to force his way, and had wounded him in several places: upon this he was asked what urgent business he had to go abroad so early, and whether that was not his Stiletto; for the first Question he had a plausible excuse, and utterly denied the second. By this time the Judge had notice that Almanda was come who was brought in, and demanded if she knew that silk Bag and the Scarf, and who owned that bloody Shirt and Stiletto; at this she was so confounded she had not one word to answer; the Judge observing the great disorder she was in, told her, if she hoped for mercy, the only means to purchase it, must be by a free and open Confession; whereupon she accused Rosino of the Murder, and said, that was his Bloody Shirt and that his Stiletto, and that she was no farther Guilty than as so great a surprise forced her consent, and her own Safety, the Concealment which she had endeavoured by hiding them in her Trunk. Rosino being confronted by her confessed the Fact, and was adjudged to be hanged and his Body burnt; Lycon and Cruento were condemned to be broke on the Wheel alive, and their Bodies left as a prey to the Beasts of the Field, and Almanda to be beheaded, and the dead Body of De Mansey for the Murder of Perron, to be hanged at the common Gallows for three days, and then thrown into the River Ormo, all which was the next day executed accordingly.  In this last History we have a Complication of Murders, that of Adrian, Perron and De Mansey, perpetrated for different ends, and all the bloody Criminals brought to condign and open Punishment by strange and various Methods: For be assured that as Happiness here and Glory hereafter, are the encouragements and rewards of Virtue and Honesty, so present Shame and future Punishment will be the dreadful Portion of all those whose sanguinary Crimes and horrid Villainies, have made them the wretched Subjects of divine Vengeance and everlasting Wroth.  
FINIS.   

 
Sold by Benj: Crayle in Fleet street   

THE GLORY OF God's Revenge Against the Licentious and Detestable SIN OF ADULTERY.  
Exemplified in several late Examples of the Judgement of God upon notorious Offenders.  
BOOK II.  
LONDON, Printed for BENJAMIN CRAYLE in Fleetstreet.   

THE GLORY OF God's Revenge Against the Licentious and Detestable Sin of ADULTERY.  

HIST. I. Castrucchio and Gloriana.  
The Count of Varini marries with Gloriana a young Gentlewoman of incomparable Beauty, contracted to Castrucchio; Varini apprehends Castrucchio in Bed with Gloriana and kills him, cuts off his Head and makes her drink out of his Scull, and afterwards eat up his Heart, who the next morning was found dead in her Bed.  
IN the former Book thou hast seen (Courteous Reader) the dreadful Judgements of God, upon those wretched Sinners, who have been guilty of that crying Sin of Murder, and in this I will present thee with the miserable Examples of Adultery; a Crime so odious to God and Man, that whatever gentle names we may gloss it over with, hath been always attended with sad and lamentable Consequences. It has been the Opinion of some, that the Forbidden Fruit in the midst of the Garden, which God Almighty by his especial Command so strictly prohibited, and the Devil tempted Eve withal, was no other than Carnality; what Exceptions this may admit of, I shall not now dispute; but the great mercy of God, hath since taken pity of our Frailties, and not only permitted that pleasure but sanctified it in Paradise by the solemn Union of Matrimony, taken from it all filthiness, and made our very Lust, pure and immaculate. Chastity and Lust, are so professed Enemies to one another, that they can never live together in the same Subject, no more than day and night, light and darkness; the first is a bright and resplendent Virtue, the other a raging and devouring Vice: Chastity makes us Glorious as the Angels, Lust deformed as Devils; it is like the black foil to the sparkling Diamond, or the dark shade to a beautiful Image. Love is the Intelligence that gently moves the Soul from innocent Desires to chaste Embraces, but Incontinence is the Devils Incendiary, which first fires us with unlawful Flames, and then violently hurries us over all the sacred Boundaries of Modesty, Justice and Religion, to satisfy the impious Cravings of one burning Lust. I could here enlarge on the sacred Institution of Marriage in Paradise, he noble Royalties it is endowed with, and how Adam, no sooner beheld the light and glory of the Sun, but he saw the brightness and illustrious Beauty of a Wife; how Chastity is as unlimited as Lust, and that we have as many glorious Examples of the one, as Prodigies of the other; that the name of judith is yet famed by her Continence, whilst the memory of Lais is preserved by her Ignominy; that the insatiate Messalina, was not more the scandal, than the chaste Lucretia the honour of her Sex, who fl●w from the hot Embraces of the lustful Tarquin, to the cold arms of Death for refuge, her purer Soul now loathed that Body which had suffered the pollutions of the Ravisher, and with an undaunted courage opened the door to death, and lodged the fatal Steel, in her yet unspotted Breast. But I should expatiate too far, thou shalt here find variety of Examples in the following Histories, a chaste Imbrigis and a Lascivious Helda, as Lose, as her Sister Continent; where I hope the beautiful Character of the one, will attract thy imitation of her Virtue, and the deformity of Vice in the other deter thee from the Commission of that Sin, which often imprints its own punishment on the Offender, (Viz. the Venereal Disease) but if he is so happy to escape the Brand of his own Iniquity here, the Terrors of an evil Conscience, will be his constant Executioner, as the Devil his Tormentor hereafter.  
But I proceed to the History.  
AT Venice, the Beauty of Italy, which is the Garden of Europe, in the Reign of Leonardo Donato that noble Duke of Venice, famous for banishing the Jesuits, and opposing the intrusions of the Popish See, and fulminations of Paulus Quintus in the just defence and maintenance of the Privileges and Prerogatives of the Seignory, lived Pedro Giovanno Count of Varini. He was a Gentleman no less Eminent for the many Services he had done the State, than admired for his Virtues; He was honoured with the Title of Count, but much more illustrious in the rich Endowments of a noble Mind; to all which was added a large Estate and plentiful Revenues, which gave Lustre and Support to the Royalty of his House and Grandeur of his Family. Varini was now arrived to the sixtieth year of his Age, and being desirous to retire from the Troubles and Cares, that constantly attend public Employments, left the crowded Streets of Venice for the quiet and recess of a Country Life, and presently taking leave of his Friends, went to his Castle at St. Brien about 30 Italian miles distant from Venice, where he passed his time in the pleasant Diversion of those Rural Sports he was ever delighted in. It happened one day, as he was abroad in the Field with several other Gentlemen who were his daily Companions in his Country Recreations, his Falkner discovered a large Heron upon the Wing whereupon Varini immediately ordered him to try the courage of his Hawk if he durst fasten on so bold an Enemy. After several bicker in the Air, to the great satisfaction of the Spectators, the Conflict remained doubtful, till at last the Hawk impatient in the Conquest of his stubborn Adversary, redoubled his force and struck him to the ground, who fell into the Garden of Signior Berinto, whither they all hasted to the assistance of the Hawk and seizure of their Game. Berinto understanding that the Count of Varini, with several other Gentlemen of Quality were gone into his Garden, followed after, where he found them taking up the Heron yet alive though disabled; all the Company highly commended the courage and strength of his Hawk, which Varini seemed very much pleased at, and being invited into the House by Berinto was nobly treated, where he first saw the matchless Gloriana, to whom with all the Expressions of Respect and Kindness, he presented the Heron, which she with equal Grace and Courtesy received.  
Berinto was a Gentleman of Honourable Extract, whose great Grandfather had been Duke of Venice, and he himself a considerable Merchant there, but having suffered great Losses at Sea and particularly in one Ship, whose Cargo was valued at near 100000 l. which was taken by the Corsairs of Algiers, in the Wars between the Turks and Venetians, he left off Merchandizing and betook himself to the happy and peaceful solitude, of his Countryhouse at Vernon a League from St. Brien, where he spent his days free from the dangerous blasts of inconstant Fortune; He had one Daughter named Gloriana the Paragon of her Sex, in whom Virtue and Beauty were equally eminent, and being now of the age of 21 by the consent and approbation of her Father, was contracted to Signior Castrucchio, a young Gentleman of a neighbouring Village, who being lately returned from his Travels in France and England, desired no other repose of his future Happiness, but what he should find in the soft Embraces of the Beautiful Gloriana. But alas in vain do we seek for a perfect and established Happiness amongst the fading Joys of this uncertain World, in the midst of our greatest security we are on the Brink of Danger; and those Blessings we catch at are but the Shadows of what we mistake them for, and either delude us in our vain pursuit, or ruin us in the fatal enjoyment of them. Varini having paid his Thanks to Berinto for his generous Reception and splendid Entertainment, took his leave of him, inviting him over to St. Brien, and telling him, that as such a fortunate Accident had made him happy in his Acquaintance, he would study all Opportunities to improve it, and he hoped they who were so near Neighbours, should be no longer Strangers to one another in their Friendship and Conversation. Berinto promised in few days to wait upon him at his Castle in return of the great Honour he had now done him, and that though the sense of his Obligations to him, was beyond the power of his present Gratitude, yet he would never be wanting in the acknowledgement of that debt he was not able to discharge. Night coming on the Company parted, and Varini retired to St. Brien, where being alone his thoughts began to reflect on the Beauty of Gloriana, the elegant composure of her Body and the excellent perfections of her mind, which had now made so violent an Assault and deep impression on his Heart, that his blood which had been chilled by the cares and sollicitudes of sixty Winters, now grew warm and wanton, his Pulse beat vigorously, and all parts grew active and sprightly, so powerful is the strong impulse of Love.  
Ten days after Berinto came over to make his Compliment to the Count, who received him with all the demonstrations of Friendship and Respect, and after he had entertained him with a sight of his Castle, the rarities of his Closet, and the fragrant Curiosities of his Garden, he retired into a shady Arbour covered with jessamines, where after a pleasant Discourse on the great advantages of a true and sincere Friendship, he began an excellent Harangue, in commendation of Love and the happiness of Marriage, above the Care and Solitude of a single Life, which Berinto assented to, saying, he much wondered that a Person of his Honour and Quality, who wanted nothing to render him completely happy, had never yet tasted the joys of Wedlock, which he had so passionately extolled. The Count told him, Amongst all the Beauties of Italy, he but once saw that incomparable Creature worthy of his Affections; And pray my Lord, said Berinto, what then could obstruct the noble designs of your Love? That Question says Varini, My dear Berinto, you best can Answer. It is Gloriana, the matchless Gloriana I love, she alone is the Lady of my Affections, at whose feet I would prostrate myself and all the Titles of Honour or Fortune I am Master of, to receive the name of Husband from her, more glorious and valuable to me than the Purple Robes of aspiring Senators, or the sparkling Diadems of Eastern Monarches. Berinto was not a little surprised to hear Varini with so much ardency of Affection, commend his Daughter Gloriana, nor did he presently know what answer to return; the Ambition of seeing his Daughter so great a Lady, and that breach of Faith which would necessarily attend it, raised two different Passions in his Breast, and so far distracted his Thoughts, that Varini might easily read the labours and troubles of his mind in his discomposed Countenance and profound Silence. At last having something recovered himself, he thus replied, My Lord, the Transcendency of your Goodness, and the noble offer you please to make my Daughter, is so great an Honour to my Family, that I, who am highly sensible of my own demerits, can receive it with no less Transports of joy and satisfaction than the Captive does his Freedom, or the condemned Criminal a gracious Reprieve.  
The next day, Varini returned Berinto's Visit and made his first Address to Gloriana, who being acquainted by her Father, with the great professions of Kindness, the Count had made to him, and his more particular Respect to her, gave him a reception which rather showed her deference and regard to his Quality, than any delight she received from the Courtship of a Lover. However the Count so vigorously pursued his Amours, that in a short time he absolutely gained the Father, and had been no less successful over the Affections of the Daughter, had not her pre-engagement to Castrucchio, obstructed the Conquest of his Flames, who was fully resolved, that no power should be able to rescind that sacred Tie, by which they were so firmly linked together: Nor should all those empty Titles of Honour, now laid at her Feet, tempt her heart to Treachery, and prevail upon her to forsake him to whom she had once vowed eternal Constancy and Fidelity.  
Castrucchio was soon acquainted by Gloriana with the unwelcome News, that the Lord Varini was now his Rival in his pretensions to her, which he received with a courage undaunted, telling her, that as no person of what Quality soever, durst make an attempt upon her Virtue, so he was well assured he would find as cold Entertainment in her Affections; and that she who knew the Honour and Justice of his Cause, was the most fit person to determine his Right, which the Lord Varini with more Treachery than Gallantry endeavoured to supplant. Gloriana with repeated promises gave fresh assurance of a constant and Loyal Heart, which all the charms of Ambition, should never be able to affect with levity, nor the gilded promises of a plentiful Jointure corrupt with Infidelity.  
But alas! what Heart is so steeled from all Impressions of Vice, that Covetousness and Ambition can make no dint upon it? Love too often softens the most rigid and austere Virtue, which once made pliable receives the easy Signatures of those Crimes, we at first so boldly scorned and detested. This was the case of fair but inconstant Gloriana, the present Temptation of Riches and Honour, were so often presented to her with all the glorious Train of future Blessings, that at last the gaudy show staggered her weaker Resolution, and she rather chose the Age and Impotency of a Gouty Lord, than the Youth and Vigour of her faithful Castrucchio. In short, the sedulous Addresses of Varini, joined with the powerful Commands of Berinto, at last took place, and Gloriana consented to the Marriage, which was solemnised in the Castle of St. Brien a fortnight after, with all the Magnificence and Splendour a generous Bounty was able to express.  
Castrucchio was not long before he received intelligence of the fatal News, and a positive confirmation of his own unhappy State by the treacherous Gloriana, which so nearly reached his heart, that he immediately fell into a deep Melancholy, which continued for several Months upon him, and had now brought him into a Consumption, which his Friends apprehending the danger of advised him to remove to Milan, the chief University of Italy, not far from Venice, for change of Air; where we shall leave him to the care of the most able and learned Physicians, and return to Gloriana, who has now attained the utmost perfection of that Happiness she had aspired to.  
The Count and his Lady lived at St. Brien, were visited and complemented by all the Nobility and Gentry of the Country, and to all appearance no persons could be more happy than Varini in the Embraces of Gloriana, and Gloriana in the Love and Endearments of Varini: But alas! the fairest Picture hath its shade, and the brightest day is closed by the dark and dismal night. Gloriana had not been married above nine months, before she grew pale and wan, the Roses of her Cheeks were faded, and the little Cupid's which formerly danced in her Eyes were fled and gone, a Cloud of Melancholy sat hover on her Forehead, and all her Actions and Discourse spoke the Resentments of a troubled and discontented Mind. Her Conversation had now lost that air and briskness she was once so admired for, and all her time was spent in a melancholy retirement to her Closet, or in the most shady recesses of her Garden, where she sighed away her bitter hours in complaints to the more happy Birds, who free from the Tyranny of humane Laws, did once a year choose their own Mates, and in fresh enjoyments could bill without control. Varini was passionately concerned to see his beloved Gloriana so strangely altered, and with all the tender expressions of Love and Kindness endeavoured to expel those Troubles which had seized her Mind; but all in vain, Age had now made him an impotent Physician, and Nature denied him that Elixir of Life which could only cure the Longings of a youthful and vigorous Lady. Gloriana declined so fast in her Health, that he resolved to remove to Venice, in hopes the pleasantness of the Place, and variety of Company, would divert her Melancholy, and restore her to her former Health and Beauty, and accordingly did so.  
Varini had not been above three months there, but Castrucchio, who was now perfectly recovered at Milan, heard of his return to Venice, whither he immediately removed, and courted all opportunities to get a sight of the Countess, which soon after he effected. Understanding she used to go to St. Mark's Chapel to Mass, he constantly paid his Devotions there, where at last he spied her upon her Knees before the high Altar, and not observing the Count her Husband, or any of her Servants near, went and kneeled down by her. It is not difficult to guests what Saint he made his Prayers to, nor what was the Subject of his Petitions▪ The Countess was strangely surprised to see Castrucchio so near her, and in the midst of his Discourse bid him forbear, and meet her there the next Afternoon at four precisely. Castrucchio in the interim suffered all the Torments that variety of Thoughts could rack him with, sometimes blaming her Disloyalty to him, he expected nothing but scorn and contempt, and presently when he considered her first infidelity, it gave him hopes she might prove as faithless to the Count, whose cold and impotent Embraces could never oblige the craving desires of a youthful Beauty. The hour was now come, and Castrucchio impatiently expected the Countess, who presently came and kneeled down in the same place he had seen her before; Castrucchio placed himself next to her, who immediately gave him a Note into his hands, wherein he found these Contents following:  
Gloriana to Castrucchio.  
TO morrow the Count Varini goes to his Castle at St. Brien, and at ten in the morning I will be at the Franciscan Church, till then farewell my dear, my dear Castrucchio.  
Castrucchio was overjoyed at this Assignation, and punctually observed it, where, notwithstanding his diligence, the Countess prevented him, from whence they immediately went to the Waterside, and took a Gondola, and so directly to a private Garden of Pleasure, where the recluseness of the place presented them with the opportunity of a more secret Converse. Castrucchio could not so prudently stifle his resentments of Gloriana's Inconstancy, but she presently observed discontent in his looks, and by the breaks of his Discourse, that a more fixed and composed trouble was settled in his heart. Whereupon, My dear Castrucchio, says she, Gloriana's Penitence and Castrucchio's Mercy, soon wrought a perfect reconciliation, and the rest of the time was spent in more pleasant and amorous entertainments. At evening they parted, when Gloriana told Castrucchio, the Visit he promised she'd receive at her own House the next Evening, for she did not expect the Count's Return till ten days after.  
Thus they had frequent interviews, in the absence of the Count by the assistance of Fortia, Gloriana's Waiting-Woman, who being privy to the Intrigues of Love between the Countess and Castrucchio, was very serviceable to their Amours, by admitting him in the dusk of the Evening, at a back door into her Lodgings where they reveled all night in forbidden Pleasures, little dreaming of those heavy Judgements, which so closely pursued their Adulterous Crimes. The Count was now returned, who observed great alterations in the Temper and Behaviour of Gloriana, her Humour had now recovered its former Sprightliness, and nothing seemed so dear and obliging to her, as the Embraces of her Husband, which he was extremely pleased withal, mistaking that for Love and Kindness in her, which was only a feigned Passion and crafty disguise, to conceal a more notorious Offence. Varini had now continued two months at Venice, whose presence prevented that familiarity and those frequent Visits the Lady and her Paramour so earnestly coveted, which Gloriana much lamented, and by the advice of Fortia, resolved to remedy. It was agreed that Gloriana should counterfeit herself sick, which she did, and prayed Varini that Father Paulo Raquinto her Confessor might be sent for, whose Prayers and Ghostly Counsel she hoped would turn to her great advantage. Varini was much grieved at the sickness of his Lady, and readily granted any request she made; accordingly the Holy Father came daily to visit the Countess, of which Fortia gave Castrucchio notice, and that it was her Lady's Pleasure that he should put himself into the same Religious habit, under which Covert he might with safety see her when ever Varini was abroad. This design was of great Service to them, for no sooner was Varini gone to the Rialto, but Fortia gave Castrucchio intelligence, who presently came and was admitted without the least mistrust of the Servants. This politic contrivance for a long time screened the Adulterous Countess, from the suspicions of her Servants and the Jealousies of Varini; who (she appearing now to be with Child,) doted on her more than ever; praised his own happiness in a mistaken Blessing, deeming that the strength of his Impotent Age and the Glory of his Gray-Hairs, which was the effect of youthful Lust in his shameless and Adulterous Wife.  
But not long after Varini by accident took up a Letter in his Lady's Chamber, and found the Directions of it to Signior Castrucchio; the name startled him extremely, wondering how it should come there; the Contents of it, were business writ from some Gentleman in the Country; after he had a long time pondered upon the matter, with all the jealous Disquisitions of an Italian Brain, he resolved the point, that this Gentleman was most certainly his Ladies Gallant, and probably the same Person since the name was so, to whom he too lately understood she had been pre-contracted. The Letter however he concealed, and presuming if there was any such Intrigue that Fortia was acquainted with it, the Countess being gone to Mass, he strictly examined her, whom he endeavoured to threaten into a Confession which she courageously withstood; but at last being tempted with a Purse of Checquins, she made that Faith a Slave to Gold, which could not be forced by the Terrors of Punishment, and discovered the dangerous Secret with all its Circumstances. Varini received the dismal Story, with horror and amazement, cursed his own unhappy Fortune, and much more the Treachery of his disloyal Countess; after a little pause he gratified Fortia according to his promise, and commanding her to silence, retired to his Closet where he meditated a Revenge proportionable to his own Injury and Gloriana ●s Infidelity.  
Three days after, he told Gloriana with a smiling Countenance▪ he must leave her to lie alone that night and go over to St. Brien for some Writings he wanted, but would be back the next Evening; and to give a fairer gloss to the business, and make her more secure, ordered her if Signior Boraccio the Procurator came, to give him those Parchments in his Closet, of which that was the Key. Varini immediately parted for St. Brien, who was no sooner gone, but the Countess sent Castrucchio word of it, and desired his Company that night; Castrucchio who had never yet failed her amorous invitations was punctual at the hour. Varini pretending to his Servants he had forgot something, returned by 11 at night, and went directly up to her Chamber attended by Sturio a Gentleman that waited upon him, whom he ordered to knock at the door, (which was locked) and say, he had a Letter to the Countess of urgent Business from his Lord Varini. The Lovers having wearied themselves with the repetition of their unlawful Pleasures lay fast asleep enchased in each others Arms, till Fortia awaked Gloriana, telling her some body knocked at the Chamber door, who startled at it, bid her ask who was so rude, and what their Business; Sturio (whose Voice was very well known) answered, he had brought a Letter from his Lord Varini to the Countess of important business, upon which, not in the least suspecting what was designed against her, she commanded Fortia to open the door, and receive the Letter, and bid Sturio to wait her Answer below. Fortia no sooner opened the door, but Varini rushed in with his Sword drawn, and Sturio after him with a brace of Pistols in his hands; Castrucchio was asleep, and the Countess so surprised, that she only gave one loud shriek, at which Castrucchio awaking, at the same instant felt Varini's Sword in his Breast, who with repeated Wounds gave his fleeting Soul an easy passage into another World. The Countess lay trembling by, happy in this only, that she had nothing now to fear, but each minute hoped and begged his revenging S●eel would carve the same Justice on her guilty Breast; but in vain, Varini intended her no such favour. Castrucchio being seemingly dead, Varini commanded Sturio to strike off his Head, and with his own hands ripped open his Breast, and took out his Heart, which leaping in his Hand, This Madam, says he, (turning to the Countess) is the heart of your beloved Paramour, see yet how sprightly it is; it was unreasonable, Lady, you should have him wholly to yourself, this is my share now, and that yours, scornfully kicking the Head to her. It is impossible to describe that horror of Mind and Anguish of Soul Gloriana laboured under, which nothing but the Blessing of a sudden death was able to relieve her from. Castrucchio's Body thus mangled was thrown out at the Window snto the Street, and Gloriana confined to her Chamber, where she was left alone, with the head of her Lover placed on her Cabinet, to furnish her with constant Meditations of Death, and the sad remembrance of her former pleasures, which, with the present torment of a guilty Conscience, was a punishment more grievous than ten thousand deaths. The next Morning discovered Castrucchio's Body, which was found under Gloriana's Window, with the Head off, the Breast cut open, and the Heart pulled out, to the great wonder and astonishment of every gazing Passenger. Varini went early in the morning to the Council and acquainted them with the Circumstances of the Fact, before the Officers of Justice had notice of it, acknowledged himself the Author, proved by Sturio and Fortia, that he found Castrucchio in Bed with his Lady, and upon that provocation had taken this severe but just Revenge, which appearing to he true by the aforesaid Evidence, he was acquitted.  
Seven days after Gloriana was delivered of a dead Son, whose immature Birth was occasioned by the Violence of her grief and sorrow, which yet was not powerful enough to end her unhappy days, and put a period to those Miseries under which she languished. Varini seeing the present illness of Gloriana, ordered the Head of Castrucchio to be removed from her sight, the smell of it now growing very offensive, and sometimes used to visit her, and in some measure, seemed to remit the severity of his Revenge, and give place to Pity and Compassion. Gloriana after a Month, was so well recovered, that she walked about her Chamber and had liberty to take the air of the Garden, and dine if she pleased publicly with Varini or privately in her own Chamber, but constantly obliged to drink out of Castrucchio's Skull, which by the Command of the Count, had the Flesh boiled off, the Brains taken out, and fashioned into the form of a Cup.  
Not long after Varini meeting Gloriana one Evening, walking solitary in the Gallery, My Dear, says he, I observe you yet continue very pensive and Melancholy, at which I am much concerned; I have consulted your Physicians in relation to your Health, who have prescribed an Electuary which you must take this Evening, an hour before you go to Bed, it will comfort your Spirits and cheer your Heart: which she willingly assented to. At night he brought it to her Chamber himself, and having recommended it to her for the richness of the Ingredients, she eat cheerfully of it, and ask if she must take it all at once, that, said he, as you please Madam, and as you like it, it is the Heart of your beloved Castrucchio, prepared for you with my own hands according to Art: at which words she looked earnestly upon him, saying, It has all the Qualities of the richest Balsam and most precious Cordial, 'tis pity any part of it should be lost; and as soon as she had eaten it all up, went to rest, and was found next morning dead in her Bed. But I shall not determine whether her Death was the effect of Passion, in some extraordinary Transport of Joy at the remembrance of her dear Castrucchio; or that Varini had mixed Poison in the Composition of his Medicine; and that he might equally temper his Justice and Revenge together, by giving her Castrucchio's lustful Heart, the sweet of her Life mixed with the bitter Ingredients of Death, to Varini ●s Shame, and Gloriana's Punishment. Thus died the inconstant Gloriana, and two years after, the Count, having first quitted the troublesome Stage of this World, retired into the Monastery of S●. Francis, where he assumed a Religious Habit, and spent the short remainder of his Life, in constant Prayers, and pious Meditations.  Had humble Virtue, been more the Subject of Gloriana's Meditations, than Covetousness or Ambition; her lustful Heart, had never made a forfeiture of Castrucchio's Head: nor his miserable Death, been the shame and punishment of her Vicious Life.  

HIST. II. Dribellus and Petronella.  
Dribellus courts Petronella, and deflowers her, she is afterwards married to Polissus; By the means of Morella her Waiting-Woman Dribellus commits Adultery with her which is discovered by Paretta, Polissus cuts off Dribellus his Members, scourges Morella, and Petronella is condemned to the Punishment of the Radish, of which she dies.  
THessaly in Greece, (which so oft has been the happy Subject of the Poet's Song) is no less celebrated for its lofty Mountains, whose aspiring heads surmount the Clouds, than for its fruitful Plains, the Riches and Delight of the industrious Shepherd; in which famed Oeta shares equal Honour with towering Olympus and the well spread Taurus; not far from the foot of Oeta, are yet some Remains of that glorious City, once called Hypata, where Patricius Castriot, a Gentleman of ancient Family and large Demesus lived in Honour and Reputation, from whom the noble Scanderbag, that Scourge and Terror of the Turks, derived his Pedigree. This Gentleman had one only Child, a Daughter called Petronella, a young Lady of admirable Beauty, in which she not more excelled all others of her Sex, than in the perfections of her mind, which Bounty of Heaven, her careful Father still endeavoured to improve by the most learned Masters of all Sciences that Age afforded.  
Amongst others, Dribellus a young Gentleman who had been Educated under Miletus Bishop of Thessalonica, was entertained by him, with the promise of a generous Reward, to instruct his Daughter in Rhetoric, in which he particularly excelled; the good Father resolving she should want no accomplishment that Art could furnish her with, to render her the most complete Pattern of Virtue and Learning, and the only Phoenix of her Age and Sex. The Care and Industry of Dribellus was soon discovered by the great Improvement of his Pupil, which Patricius was no less sensible of, and constantly encouraged with his bountiful Hand. Twelve Months were now passed, in which Dribellus by his obliging behaviour, had equally charmed the tender Affections of Petronella, and won the good Opinion of her Father and Mother, both highly commended his modest Carriage and sweetness of Temper, from whose indefatigable pains, they hoped to reap those great advantages, his studious Labours so fairly promised.  
The constant society of Dribellus with Petronella, had now endeared them to each other, and the unhappy Flames of Love warmed their Breasts with mutual Kindness and Respect, which Dribellus no sooner discovered by the languishing Looks of Petronella, but he resolved if possible, to raise a future Fortune there, where at first, he only expected a present Support and Maintenance. To this end he courted all Opportunities to enjoy her Company, and frequently exchanged his Lectures of Rhetoric, for the more pleasing discourses of Love, which he soon found were no less acceptable to his Mistress than the other had been grateful to his Pupil. Thus they continued for some time, courting each other with Amorous Glances and melancholy Sighs, the dumb but powerful Rhetoric of bashful Lovers; till at last Dribellus in express Terms, discovered his Passion to her, at which she seemed very much surprised, but having recovered herself, told him, she had been always very sensible of his great Respects to her in those diligent Instructions she received from him, which though she was in no capacity to retaliate, she would never forget; and hoped the Bounty and Generosity of her Parents, would in some measure answer his Merits, whilst she could only reward him with a Thankful acknowledgement. Dribellus who well knew the great Wit of Petronella could not mistake the true sense and meaning of his discourse, though her Prudence and Modesty diverted it to another Subject, presently replied, Dribellus has no such haughty Thoughts of his past Service, to think he ever could oblige the fair Petronella, or in the least deserve a return of that sincere Affection he professes to her. I love my fairest Petronella; I leave; and no reward is valuable with me but what gives me your Heart, or robs me of my Life; if your Kindness bids me live, I live your Servant, or your frown at the same minute, commands me to die your Martyr.  
Petronella blushed, and what Modesty would not suffer her to utter in words, she spoke in her languishing eyes and abrupt sighs, live Dribellus, live, and let that cruel Maid, be for ever forsaken who bids her lover die. At this Dribellus took Heart and pursued his Amours with so vigorous an Attaque, that the Lady made a willing Surrender, and promised that the Heart he had so bravely conquered, should ever be the Trophy, of his Victory.  
Dribellus having thus gained an assurance of Petronella's Affections, endeavoured by all means, to fix it beyond the Power or Cause of ill Fortune, and accordingly some few days after, finding Petronella in the Garden, began an Assault upon her Virtue, with all the specious pretensions of Affection that Love could inspire him with▪ Petronella, who had already yielded up her heart to Dribellus, thought the sacred trust of her Honours might be reposed in the same Breast, with equal security. Thus with kind Caresses, and wanton Dalliances, did this subtle Thief rob her of the Flower of her Virginity, and with the sighs and denials of a languishing Maid, she at last exchanged the native Innocence of her Soul, and Virtue of her Mind, for Shame, Folly and Dishonour: This was the first step they made in those crooked Paths of Wickedness, which they afterwards so much delighted in, who by the frequent Repetition of their unlawful Pleasures, were now grown so careless and secure, as if they gloried in their sins, and were neither sensible of their shame, nor apprehensive of the punishment, which with a silent pace constantly pursues the lustful Criminal.  
Before this was discovered by any of her Relations, a young Gentleman, who lived at Larissa, (the Birth-place of Achilles, not far from Oeta) whose Name is Polissus, the eldest Son of Abridatus, a Gentleman of very considerable Estate and Family, was recommended to her Father, as a Person who would be a very suitable Match for his Daughter, who with a very handsome Equipage, was now come over to Hypata to court her. Fame had spoke loud of the Perfections of Petronella, both in Body and Mind, and after some days Converse found himself absolutely conquered by the Charms of her Witand Conversation, which were more irresistible than those of her Face and Beauty, in both which she appeared so illustrious, that Polissus was strait made a Prisoner by her, and fast fettered in the golden Chains of Love. This gave the Lovers an unexpected disturbance, who with Sighs and Tears express the present Trouble and Anguish of their Minds, they curse the coming of Polissus, and charge him as the sole Author of their Unhappiness and Misery: Dribellus looks on him with Envy, and Petronella with Disdain; she could not willingly afford him one amorous glance, all her smiles were counterfeit, and the best Entertainment she could give him was upon force and constraint, whilst he sighs and throws himself at her Feet, without moving her to the least Pity or Compassion; but Polissus grew daily into the favour of her Parents, though he found little progress in the heart of the Daughter; and although Patricius himself interposed his Paternal Authority to recommend him to her Affections, told her of his Riches, and fair Possessions, the Nobility of his Family, and his Personal Endowments, yet she slighted and contemned him, and one day told her Mother, that though she did allow Polissus to be a complete Gentleman, yet it was impossible for her to act so great a violence upon herself, as to force her Affections to love that Person she ever had an aversion to, and should think herself more happy in the cold Arms of Death, than the Embraces of that Husband that she could not affect. The Mother moved with the Tears of her Daughter, took pity on her, but her Father being of a more stern and austere Nature, grew enraged at her denial, and was so far from admitting her impertinent Reasonings, that he resolved to force her to compliance, and not suffer her longer to resist his Will and Pleasure, and to that end dispatched a Messenger to Abridatus, Polissus his Father, in order to settle all things for the intended Marriage.  
Patricius finding all his Endeavours fruitless, and his Daughter so perverse and obstinate, that neither his Threats could force her, or his Endearments win her, began to consider with himself what could be the true cause of her Contumacy and Dislike; he saw nothing in the Person or Behaviour of Polissus, but what might render him acceptable to a Maid not prepossessed with the Love of another: He knew he had kept her strictly at 〈◊〉 under his own care and government, and that her youth had hitherto defended her from all Insinuations of that nature; nor could his thoughts fix upon any Person thereabouts, that could give him the least umbrage of suspicion, much less did he imagine Dribellus was that Thief, who had robbed his Daughter of her Heart, so great an opinion had he of his Virtue and Honesty. But his Wife, who best knew the temper of her own Sex, so narrowly watched all the Actions and Gestures of Petronella, that she soon discovered the kindness and Familiarity that was between the Master and the Scholar; but (like a prudent Woman) she did not immediately acquaint her Husband with it, and publish to the World the folly of her Daughter, but watched an Opportunity, that she might take them together and reprove them of that Folly which would certainly be attended with Misery and Repentance.  
It happened not long after, that Dribellus and Petronella being retired into a Grove of Olives, which by the privacy and recluseness of it, had been the frequent Scene of their dishonest Pleasures, the Mother followed them at a distance, and in the midst of those ravishing Delights they entertained each other with; she cried out and appeared to the two Lovers in the very Ecstasy and Rapture of their Lust. It is here impossible to describe the horror and amazement the two Lovers were in, to see themselves surprised in this wanton Posture; the sight of her Mother was more terrible to them, than that of a Basilisk, the lightning of her eyes and the thunder of her voice, pierced their Breasts and cloven their Hearts asunder. In this posture they continued a while, without being able to say one word in excuse of themselves or the notoriousness of that Fact which was too apparent to be denied; till at last Dribellus began to speak in Justification of himself and the afflicted Petronella, cha●ging all the blame on the power and force of Love, and the rigorous indiscretion of Patricius, who would compel Petronella to marry Polissus, whom she could never Love Petronella, with Shame and Confusion in her Face begs her Mother's Pardon and Forgiveness with Tears and Sighs, who taking her by the hand, led her to her Chamber, where after she had severely reprehended her with the guilt and ignominy of such dissolute Pleasures, she locked her up, and there left her to her own Meditations; and went directly to her Father and told him that she had discovered an Intrigue of Love between Dribellus and Petronella, which was the cause of her Aversion to Polissus, without discovering that secret which would for ever have blasted the Honour of her Daughter, and branded their Family, with an indelible mark of Shame and Infamy. Patricius heard this Relation with Grief and Astonishment, and at the desire of his Wife, resolved to turn off Dribellus with all speed, and that no particular notice should be taken, at the same time to discharge all her other Masters, she being now to be married, and to go and live with her Husband at Larissa.  
Dribellus wondered much that he was only discharged, and no other punishment inflicted on him, which he could not attribute to the Clemency of Patricius, but his Ignorance of that Crime he was guilty of; which he supposed the prudence of his Wife had concealed from him, who otherwise would have been as severe in his Revenge, as the heinousness of so great a Fault did justly deserve.  
Polissus receiving fresh encouragement from Patricius of success in his Amours, returns to Hypata, where he finds Petronella much altered in her temper and respects to him, and now fairly promises himself the happiness of consummating the Espousals with his beautiful Mistress he so earnestly coveted; which to the great satisfaction of himself and all his Friends, (but the unhappy Petronella) were solemnised with all imaginable Pomp and Splendour. Two months' af●er, he took his leave of Patricius, and returned to Larissa with his Bride, where his Father received them with the expressions of a hearty Welcome; and Petronella demeaned herself, with that Duty and Respect, that she was both beloved and admired of all. Who would not now think Petronella is entirely happy, and might live the contentedst Woman in the World? but alas where Grace and Virtue do not strew the Wedding with Flowers and Garlands, Hymen is attended with Furies, and his Saffron Robe dipped in Gall; the happiness of Marriage, is the union of two Hearts, not the conjunction of two Bodies, and where the sincerity of Affection is wanting, all Vows and Contracts, are frail and brittle Ties. The memory of Dribellus and those unlawful Pleasures she had so often repeated in his Arms, now afresh attacked her, and nothing could please her lascivious Thoughts, but the hopes she might once again see her beloved Paramour; when unexpectedly she received a Letter from him to this purpose.  
Dribellus to Petronella.  
MY dearest Petronella, the Life and joy of my Soul, I die for you, and languish after you my Life; since I am banished from your Presence, (which is more intolerable to me then the severest Death) I cannot live without a sight of you; for which reason I am privately come to Larissa, and shall wait your directions how I may once more be happy in the enjoyment of your Company, which if you forbid me, you strike a Dagger to my Heart, which now bleeds for you. Your Answer is my Sentence of Life or Death, which I impatiently wait for, and if you ever loved I now beg your pity on the most unhappy and forlorn  
Dribellus.  
Petronella was overjoyed at the receipt of this Letter, and immediately returned an Answer, desiring him to be at the Garden Door at five that Evening, where she would expect his coming. But poor Petronella thou wilt dearly ●rue this sight, and too late be sensible that the pleasures of Sin, are compounded of the bitterest Ingredients. The hour being come Petronella ordered her Waiting-Woman Marella, to attend at the Garden Door and conduct Dribellus into an Arbour, where the Transports of Joy betwixt the two Lovers are inexpressible; they met with equal Ardour and Affection, bewailed one another's Destiny, and cursed the Tyranny of Parents who often consult more their own Interest, than the Happiness and Satisfaction of their Children, in such forced Marriages, which often prove most fatal in the consequence. At last (Marella being made one of their Council) it was agreed that Dribellus who was scarce known to Polissus, should put himself into the habit of a Servant, and under the feigned name of Cotys be admitted into the Family to look after the Wardrobe, which place was now vacant. Dribellus was accordingly entertained, whilst Polissus never suspects the Snake he lodged in his bosom, nor the Thief he harboured in his House; and now Cotys thinks himself happy, hugs his own Ingenuity, and imagines himself blessed and fortunate. In this manner the two Lovers live together, take hold of all Opportunities to converse together and enjoy each other; no Clouds appeared to interrupt their Joy, and all things ran with a smooth and even Current. Among the many Servants they kept, there was a Maid called Paretta, who fell desperately in Love with Cotys, would never be out of his Company, and at last grew so troublesome to him, that he was forced to slight and disrespect her that he might rid himself of her importunity. This she took in evil part, and supposing the reason of his unkindness to her, was the Love he had for some other Person, narrowly watched him; and at last discovered the Kindness and Familiarity between him and Petronella.  
Paretta, who resolved to be revenged on her hated Rival, watched all Opportunities to take them together, believing she should find them unchaste in their Dalliances, which accordingly fallen out not long after; when seeing Morella one Evening go into the Garden and Cotys immediately follow, she made haste after them and found the Door fast on the inside, which the more increased her Suspicion; and remembering there lay a short Ladder in the Barn, by the help of it mounted the Garden Wall, and privately conveyed herself near the Arbour where she saw Cotys and Marella (who were talking together) and presently after her Lady descending on a Ladder made of Ropes, from a Balcony into the Garden, whom Cotys presently led into a close Arbour of jessamines at the further end of which they caressed each other with amorous Embraces, whilst Morella waiting at a distance watched the Doors and Windows to prevent a Discovery.  
The next day Paretta pleased with the opportunity she now had of being revenged on the disdainful Cotys, acquaints Polissus with the Infidelity of Cotys and Treachery of Petronella, who had thus shamefully abused his Honour and prostituted herself to his Servant and Slave. Polissus struck with the horror of this Relation, examines her o'er and o'er, finds no disagreement in her Tale, but too much reason to believe the Truth of it, and now fears this was some former Lover of hers in disguise. To discover the certainty thereof, he acquainted an intimate and familiar Friend with it, and by his advice pretending one Evening, to walk abroad upon a Visit, they secretly conveyed themselves into the Garden where they lay close and undiscovered. Two hours after, entered Cotys and Morella, and presently after Petronella descended from the Balcony by the same Ladder of Ropes. Their ears were the first witnesses of their Amorous Parley, and it was not long before their eyes discovered their Filthiness, when in the midst of their lustful Pleasures, they surprised them with their glittering Scymiters in their hands, which struck the Lovers with a horror and consternation, beyond the power of words to express. Petronella implored nothing but present Death from his own hands, which he had not Mercy enough to give, but reserved her for a more infamous and shameful end. Turning his Eyes from her, with all the passionate Expressions of Abhorence and Detestation, he called in his Servants, and ordered them to bind Dribellus, who was immediately dismembered before her Face, and thrust out of Doors to seek his Fortune. Morella was stripped and bound to a Tree, and scourged with the Twigs of Hazle, till the Skin was Flayed off from her Back, and then banished the City; Petronella was carried to her Chamber, where she continued Prisoner till the next Morning, when she was brought before the Magistrates, and upon evident Proof of the Adultery, was condemned to undergo the Raphination or Punishment of the Radish, which in those Countries grow to a great magnitude, which they force up their Bodies. Thus the wretehed Petronella suffered, when she had in vain begged to be strangled, and died the most ignominious and shameful Death the Art of Man could invent.  
Petronella died very penitent, confessing the wickedness of her Crime, and begging pardon of her Husband was both pitied by him, and much lamented by all who knew the Quality of her Birth and virtuous Education.  Thus we see the Tragical End, of unlawful Pleasures which like the Apples of Sodom appear fair and beautiful to the Eye; promise a Thousand Happinesses by their bewitching outside and false appearances, but within are either nothing but rotteness, or upon the first touch, crumble into Dust, acd leave us to Shame and Misery here, and eternal Damnation hereafter.  

HIST. III. Don Pedro and Paulinta.  
Don Roderigo marries Dona Paulinta. Don Pedro de Castello by the assistance of John de Blinco, the ginger, and Laura her Waiting-Woman, commits Adultery with her. Paulinta upon her delivery of a monstruous Birth, dies. Roderigo runs mad, Don Pedro is branded in the Forehead, Blinco whipped through the Streets of Corduba, and sent to the Mines; and Laura torn in pieces by Wild Beasts.  
AT Corduba in Spain, lived Don Andreo Rametzi, who was a Person very considerable in those Parts, both for his Estate and Quality, and a peculiar excellency he had in dispatch of Business of the greatest moment, in which he was indefatigable: For these Reasons in the year 1579 he was made Proveditor General under Don john of Austria, to whose care and provision, were committed the Arms, Ammunition, and all other Naval Preparations, for that huge Armada; which was completely furnished out in 1588., and designed for the Invasion of England, and utter Extirpation of the Reformed Religion. This Gentleman died in the year before at Cales of a malignant Fever, and left three Sons of which, Don Roderigo was the eldest, who upon his Father's Death, being Master of a plentiful Estate, left the Command he had in the Fleet, (upon some disgust) and returned to Corduba; where within a Twelvemonth he was married to Dona Paulinta, the only Daughter of Don Camillo, a rich and wealthy Citizen. The young couple lived with great content and satisfaction in their mutual Love and Affection, during the first three years of their Marriage; but being not yet blessed with any Children, those desired Fruits of their Conjugal Vows, the discouragements of their vigorous Embraces bred discontent; and each blamed the other, for the want of that Happiness neither could give.  
These Differences between Roderigo and Paulinta increased to that height, that Roderigo forsook her Bed, and often with opprobious Taunts, called her Barren do; all his Satirical Expressions, were still pointed with Reflections on her Sterility; which she unable to bear, with her wont Patience and Submission, complained to her Relations, of the unkindness of her Husband, and desired their Intercession, often saying, she believed he would be a contented Cuckold, upon condition, he was but a Presumptive Father. These Discords were in some measure reconciled by the Mediation of Friends; but the occasion of them was now grown the chat and entertainment of every Feast, and at last reached the Ears of Don Pedro de Castello a young Gentleman, whose extravagant Pleasures had much impaired his Estate, which obliged him to consider of some new methods of living, to maintain his Port and Quality. He was familiarly acquainted with Roderigo, and the late discourses he had heard of the difference between him and his Wife, raised new designs in his head of advancing his Fortunes by a Courtship to her, in which his own hopes, and her present Discontent flattered him with Success. To this end, he watched all Opportunities to oblige him with some respectful Service, and not long after meeting Roderigo, who told him of the late misfortune he had in Hunting, to gore his Horse upon a Stake as he leapt a Hedge, with the danger of his own life; they fell upon a discourse of the excellency of the Spanish Jennets, their beautiful Shape and Fleetness, in the close of all, Roderigo told him he thought no Gentleman in Corduba was Master of a better Horse than himself; Don Pedro presently replied your Commendations Signior will make me place a greater Value and Esteem upon him; and the next day, by his Servant presented him with his Jennet, and a Saddle and Foot cloth richly Embroidered. This generous Kindness of Don Pedro so highly endeared him to Roderigo, that they vowed eternal Friendship to each other; were constant Companions in all their Pleasures and Diversions, and the same Soul seemed to animate both their Bodies. This Intimacy gave Don Pedro free access to Roderigo's House, where he observed the disgusts between him and his Wife, which, whenever he was absent, by his graceful Behaviour and more particular Respects to her, he endeavoured to improve to his own advantage.  
The assiduous Address of Don Pedro to Paulinta, and the continual slights of Roderigo, promised him success in his Amours; which he pursued with so much Artifice and Industry, that Roderigo was not in the least jealous of his design, nor Paulinta insensible of his Affections. Don Pedro had now made his Applications, for four Months, in amorous Glances, and courtly Smiles, which he flattered himself, had so far prevailed upon her that nothing remained but an easy Conquest, and that she would readily Surrender the Fort of Honour, assoon as he had the Opportunity to make one bold Attacque. Two days after Roderigo told Don Pedro, Signior Courtelet had desired his Company to Hunt the next Morning, which he had promised him; and hoped he would not be the last in the Field, who loved the Sport so well. Don Pedro excused himself, that he had Business of great Consequence fixed for that day, which Roderigo believing, admitted of, and pressed no further. Roderigo being abroad a hunting, Don Pedro followed his Game at home, and in express Terms, discovered his Passion to Paulinta, which she received with disdain, telling him, her Husband little suspected that Sincerity of Friendship he pretended to him was false and counterfeit, and that the Injury he had offered him, would warrant his sharpest Revenge. Don Pedro was very much surprised at so unkind an Answer, and prayed that the reality of his Love to her Person and Zeal to her Service, might atone for the rudeness of his Language; and though he believed her chaste as the famed Lucretia, yet when her too vigorous Virtue, shall be the occasion of her Husband's discontent and her own Unhappiness, common Prudence would advise to remove both; which since it was the true Sense of his Discourse, he hoped rather to merit her Esteem than deserve her Reprimand. Paulinta with a look as if she intended to smile, which was presently dashed with a frown thus replied; The great Concernment you express at my present Troubles challenge my Thanks, but did you as well consider the sacred Name of Virtue, which I must for ever disown, you would not so unworthily tempt me to prostitute my Honour, to cure the unreasonable Capriccios of a discontented Husband: This first Offence I'll parden but beware you never provoke my Anger by a Second, which shall make you sensible of your Fault, by the justice of your Punishment.  
Don Pedro seeing all his hopes of a projected Happiness, thus blasted in a minute, resolved however not to quit his Design for a single disappointment, burr try to effect that by Stratagem, which he could not attain by the common methods of Love and Address. Amongst the Crowd of Thoughts and various Designs, his wand'ring Fancy presented him with, he at last hit upon this one Consideration which pleased above the rest. Laura Paulinta's Woman was passionately in Love, with his Man Philip, who either despising her Poverty or contemning her Beauty, slighted all offers of Kindness with a sullen Disrespect: Whereupon meeting her one day alone in the Street, he told her he understood she had a particular Kindness for Philip, which he very well approved of, and if she would come to his Lodgings in the afternoon, he would propose a way to make her happy in the enjoyment of her Lover. Laura overjoyed at this, came accordingly, and after several discourses on that Subject to her great satisfaction, he promised her Philip for a Husband, and a hundred Ducatoons Reward, if she would prevail with Paulinta to go to john de Blinco the ginger, who was famous for telling of Fortunes, helping Maids to their Sweethearts, and curing Barrenness in Married Women, which he was confident, Paulinta would experience the Truth of, in a short time, to the Joy and Content of herself and Roderigo. Laura told him this would be so great an Obligation to them, that no Person was more proper than himself to recommend it to her Mistress, which he excused as not consistent with her Modesty to hear, or his Friendship to discourse the Secrets of the Sheets and Sacred Royalties of the Marriage Bed. At last Laura agreed to undertake it and accordingly at the first Opportunity, proposed it to her Mistress, as a Thought of her own without ever naming Don Pedro, which he had positively forbid, and she religiously swore to Observe.  
Paulinta, like some of her Sex, who by being too straight laced, do often grow awry; as she was strictly Virtuous, was a little warped by Superstition, and rather than be less than good, endeavoured to be more; This made her easily Credit Laura's Discourse, who having according to Don Pedro's Instructions, persuaded her, of the lawfulness and certainty of Astrological Judgements, she presently concluded herself obliged to make use of those methods which would infallibly render them both happy in a fruitful Offspring. Three days after Laura acquainted Don Pedro that the next morning under pretence of going to Mass, Paulinta had determined to go to john de Blinco's, to consult him what was the reason of her want of Children, and what Prolific Remedies were best in her Case. Don Pedro was well pleased at this News and the more that she did it without the privity and knowledge of Roderigo; No sooner was Laura gone, but he went directly to john de Blinco, foretold him of Paulinta's coming next day, her Business, and furnished him with Answers of all sorts to satisfy the Queries that she or Laura should make; gave him fifty Ducatoons in hand, and promised fifty more three days after, if the Design was discreetly managed. This de Blinco accepted, and assured him of his utmost Care and Fidelity.  
Next morning, Paulinta attended by Laura, went accordingly, and enquired if Signior De Blinco the learned ginger was within; upon which they were conducted up Stairs into his Chamber; De Blinco presently came out of his Study in a Furred Gown, and blue Satin Cap, with two and thirty Corners, blazoned according to the points of the Compass; the gravity of his Beard and solemn Mien, furnished them with a Respect and Reverence suitable to his Quality. Paulinta began to discourse her Business to him, which he prevented by telling her, You need not trouble yourself Lady, to acquaint me with one Tittle you have to say, the Stars have already better informed me, and if you please to have a little Patience till I have made a perfect judgement of the Scheme, I have but now erected, I hope the present Face of the Heavens will return you (by me their Mouth) a serene and pleasing Answer. De Blinco went back to his Study, and Paulinta with Impatience waited his Return. About an hour after he came out again with a pair of Compasses in one hand, and a large Scheme in the other, and now Lady (said he) I am prepared to resolve all your Doubts; but first let me tell you at your Birth I calculated your Nativity, of which this is the Figure. You are the only Daughter of Don Camillo, I see very plainly here, and the present Conjunction was very unkind to you; you have six Enemies and but one Friend in this whole House, under their malignant Influence you have suffered these several years, but now they have spit their Venom and the favourable Aspect of your Friend, shall make you Glorious and Triumphant. But as to your present Business, you desire to know the reasons of your Barrenness, and the Cure; The general Reasons are three, which proceed, from the three elemental Spirits▪ Tohu, Bohu and Vezi, and these I have already reconciled you to: Now as to the Cure, yours is the most desperate Case that I ever met with, there is but one Man in the World born under the same Configuration with yourself, and unless you are in Conjunction with him, you will never be Prolific. Alas said Paulinta I am the unhappiest Creature in the World! Pray Sir look again I have told you all the Truth, replied De Blinco, already, and can add no more; but if you desire to know that single Man, it is within the power of my Art to discover him to you. Paulinta entreated it, and de Blinco thus went on; In the Sycamore Walk of the Carmelites Garden; at four in the Evening after the next full Moon (which is your Auspicious Planet) you will see him sitting alone upon a Bench reading Quevedo's Visions; and that's the Phoenix you look for. Paulinta having nobly rewarded him, desired to have it in Writing, which he gave her, and then taking leave, wished that blessed minute was now come which could only satisfy her labouring Mind in the Truth of these strange Predictions.  
Learned Mythologists, who best expound the Mysteries of Poetic Fictions, say, the ancient Heathens worshipped the Moon, under the name of Lucina the Goddess of Midwifery; and the old Women of those days, thought her in Travel when she suffered an Eclipse, and by the beating of Kettles, and scraping of Trenchers kindly endeavoured to recover her from those fainting Fits, by their hoarse Prayers and dismal Noises. But never did they pray more heartily than Paulinta did, to see her in the full Circle of her resplendent Glory: Nor did she more passionately caress Endymion when she stooped to kiss the fair Youth; than Paulinta now did her, for the sake of her unknown Gallant.  
The wished for day is come at last, but the sluggish hour moved on too slow to answer the earnest and longing expectations of thoughtful Paulinta; the clock had no sooner struck three, but she called Laura, and made haste to the Garden, and still as she passed along (impatient of delay) sent her eyes, the quick Harbingers of her troubled mind to make the happy Discovery. But oh the strange surprise▪ just as she entered the Sycamore Walk, she saw Don Pedro upon the next Bench leaning on his Arm in a melancholy posture, and reading to himself. Paulinta knew him at first sight, and suddenly stepped back, as if her tender foot had pressed the poisonous Adder, or more loathsome Toad: Don Pedro looking up spied Paulinta in disorder, whom he approached with that Civility and Respect he constantly paid her; whilst she prudently endeavoured to hide her Passions, and pleasantly asked him what Book that was in his hand; It is Madam, said Don Pedro, Quevedo's Visions, he is a merry Companion, with whom I have diverted many a tedious hour and melancholy Thought; if you are a Stranger to him, pray accept him from my hands, and I am sure upon better Acquaintance, you will give him the best reception he deserves. Paulinta received it, and at that minute by one amorous Glance discovered the Infirmity of that Virtue which was thought to be impregnable, but now forced to retreat, and give place to a more powerful and succcessfull Vice.  
Frequent interviews, at length made Paulinta's obdurate Heart malleable, and her Innocence and chaste Resolutions, were by degrees undermined, and all her Pretensions to Honour, laid in the dust by the Craft of Don Pedro, and the Roguery of De Blinco. As to the first Act of Commission, I could charitably think her almost Innocent, because she was betrayed to it, but when once she came to relish those forbidden Pleasures, and grow Wanton in the enjoyment, Messalina was less Intemperate, she had both the Impudence of a Duegna, and the lasciviousness of a Courtesan.  
These Intrigues, were for some time so well managed by the cunning of Laura, that Roderigo either not knew of them, or contrary to the common Temper of his Country, pretended Ignorance; and rather chose to conceal her Infamy, and his own abuse, than publish it to the World, by a notorious and bloody Revenge. But at last her Lewdness grew so extravagant that he was now become the common Cornuto for every slavish finger to point at; Thisso enraged him that he threatened her with the severest Tortures, if she did not confess her Gild, or justify her Innocence. Paulinta upon her Knees, with Tears in her Eyes, prayed his Patience and common Justice, assured him of her Fidelity, and with a thousand horrid Imprecations desired her dying Fame might be for ever attended with all those marks of Ignominy, with which the malice and detraction of her Enemies had stained her living Reputation, if she had been ever guilty of the least of those Crimes, they had so unjustly charged upon her. Roderigo credulously believed her, and was perfectly reconciled.  
Three months after, Paulinta appeared big with Child to the great Satisfaction of her Husband, and in that time had behaved herself with that Prudence and Caution, that no Man was more ready to accuse her than he to Vindicate her Honour, from the Calumnies and Aspersions of such malevolent Tongues. At her time of Travel, no Husband was more tenderly concerned for a Wife than Roderigo for Paulinta; and being told they had small hopes of preserving the Child, but less of saving her, he wept bitterly. At last it was resolved her Case was desperate, and their best endeavours to be employed in care of the Child, for whom like a second Caesar they made his way by Incision. The Father impatiently desired a sight of his Son and Heir, which he had so heartily prayed for: But oh the Horror and Confusion! it had the exact resemblance of a Goat in the Face, with a long grizly Beard, but in all other parts of excellent Shape and Feature. At this dreadful sight, Roderigo immediately lost his Wits ran raving about the House, crying out, O wicked and forsworn Wretch! and three days after, died stark staring Mad. The monstruous Birth expired within few minutes after it was born.  
Don Pedro followed his old course of Revelling all night with his drunken Companions; and being at the Tavern when this tragical News was brought, he smiled at it, and told the Company (who were suprized to hear so sad a Relation) that he could spice it with a Cup of Mirth, and so began the Account of his Debaucheries with Paulinta, and how by the Confederacy of De Blinco he had betrayed her to his wicked Lust; which being heard by the Company with Horror and Detestation; he was immediately apprehended by an Alguezile and carried before the Magistrates of Corduba, and Orders issued out for the taking De Blinco, who was brought in the same Furred Gown and Corner'd Cap, and by the Evidence and Confession of Don Pedro, who also produced his Note for the Receipt of the last fifty Ducatoons with his Hand and Seal; He was condemned to be first whipped through the Streets of Corduba with Scorpions, and then sent to the Mines at Peru. Don Pedro though a Gentleman, received the Punishment of the most infamous Malefactor, by being branded in the Forehead, and then sent to the Galleys, where he continued two years, and was then taken by the Turks and carried into Algiers, where he lived and died in the Misery of perpetual Slavery. Laura to avoid her proportion of Punishment, made her Escape from Corduba, and her Body was five days after found miserably torn and mangled in the Wood of Macardis.  Thus Don Pedro like the wily Serpent in Paradise, first tempts Paulinta, to inquire those forbidden Secrets of De Blinco (the Devil's Emissary) which have no Record but in the clasped Book of Providence; for which he is justly Branded with an ignominious Letter. Adulterous Paulinta suffers her Punishment, where she first enjoyed the Pleasures of her Sin; and De Blinco is whipped here with Scorpions, and Furies hereafter.  

HIST. IU. Parmel and Cleandra.  
Dr. Parmel by an Opiate Powder debauches Cleandra, gets her with Child and marries her. Cleandra in Revenge commits Adultery with Signior Makenti, her former Lover; Dr. Parmel first gives her the foul Disease, and then designing to poison her, by mistake poisons himself. Cleandra dies miserably in the Lazaretto, and Makenti lives infamously having lost his Nose and both his Eyes.  
SEignior Conto, was ● Gentleman of great Worth and Abilities, who upon the Death of Signior Bardi, was one of those many Candidates for the Procuratorship of St. Mark at Venice, which was now become vacant: But Fortune not favouring his designs, and the potency of his Adversaries, prevailing against his Interest (though no Person had better deserved of that Republic) lost it▪ upon this, (seeing the merit of all his former Services disesteemed) retired from Venice in discontent, and fixed at Marli his Country House five miles distant. Signior Conto was Master of a very considerable Estate, and blest with one only Child a Daughter, and named Cleandra, whose native Beauty, virtuous Education, and the Honour of her Family, made her highly valued by all; but amongst the crowd of Suitors who made their Addresses to her, Signior Makenti a Person of great Estate and a Gentleman of Venice, was that happy Man, who had gained the Affections of the Daughter, and Respect of her Parents; and in the Opinion of the World, would carry the beautiful Prize from the rest of the numerous Pretenders.  
At this time, a young Gentleman whose name was Signior Parmel, having lately commenced Dr. of Physic at Milan, (whose Father had been Signior Conto's intimate and familiar Acquaintance at Venice) came over to Marli to make a Visit to Signior Conto and his Lady, who at first sight was so enamoured on the Beauty of Cleandra, that though his discretion forbid him making any public Application to her, who was a Fortune beyond his reach; yet he flattered himself with hopes of Success, if he could by any means divert the intended Marriage between her and Makenti. In this Design one lucky Accident advantaged him more than all his Wit and Invention could do; for there happening a Quarrel between Signior Makenti and Signior Lassuno, upon discourse of Signior Conto's missing the Procuratorship of St. Mark, after several sharp Expressions on both sides, Signior Lassuno drew his Dagger, and suddenly stabbed Signior Makenti into the Breast four inches deep, and immediately made his escape. Surgeons were sent for who dressed Makenti's Wound, telling him they hoped to make a good Cure of it, for though it was very deep it had missed the Vitals, which in six week's time they effected. The great loss of Blood Makenti suffered, threw him into a Consumption, upon which he was removed to Milan, where he continued for three months with small hopes of Recovery. In this time Dr. Parmel made frequent Visits at Signior Contoes, and by his insinuating Carriage and Behaviour had gained a more than ordinary Friendship in the Family; but yet considering the vast dis-proportion between his Quality and Fortune, and Signior Contoes; never durst discover to the Father or Daughter, that Love and Affection which lay smothering in his Breast. After several Considerations how to effect his Purpose, at last he resolved to try how far the mysterious Secrets of his own Art and Profession could assist his Design, and accordingly one day prepared an Opiate Powder, which he had compounded of such Ingredients as he thought most proper, and waited an Opportunity to give it Cleandra in such a Vehicle, as would admit no Discovery.  
Three days after in the Evening Dr. Parmel came down from his Study, and found Cleandra in the Kitchen making a pot of Chocolate, for the Entertainment of some Friends in the Parlour; Cleandra offered him a Dish, who thanked her, and said he would accept it upon Terms that she would drink another, which being agreed too, he privately conveyed the Opiate Powder into her Mess, without any Suspicion. About an hour after the Powder began to operate so effectually, that though she endeavoured to divert the Drowsiness which had so strangely crept upon her, by walking in the Garden, and other violent Agitation, yet at last it prevailed, and she was forced to retire to her Chamber, where she reposed herself upon the Bed, charmed into a deep Sleep by the powerful Medicine. Dr. Parmel narrowly watched her, and seeing her go into the Chamber followed after, and there found her upon the Bed fast asleep; whereupon observing the rest of the Family were otherwise busied thought he might now securely, prosecute his wicked Design and locking the Chamber Door, treacherously robbed sleeping Cleandra of her Honour and Virginity, which her waking Virtue had constantly defended against all the Temptations of Lust and Charms of Love. The Doctor having thus far accomplished his Ends, opened the Door and went out undiscovered, leaving Cleandra fast asleep, who continued so for several hours till the soporific Virtue of the Powder was extinguished, and then waked without being in the least sensible of the Injury she had received from those villanious Practices of the Doctor, but as pleasing Dreams or the sportive Frolicks of Fancy and Imagination presented her with▪ Dr. Parmel two days after took his leave and returned to Venice, expecting with Impatience, the Issue of this odd Experiment.  
Five Months after, Signior Makenti whose Recovery had been retarded by frequent Relapses, returned to Marli in perfect Health, and earnestly desired that his Espousals with the fair Cleandra might now be no longer deferred, which his own Misfortune had been the unhappy cause of; but being acquainted that his Mistress had for some time been very much indisposed and now kept her Chamber, desired to see her, whom he found so strangely altered, he scarce knew her to be the same, but by the faint Remains of that flourishing Beauty which had once reigned in her Face, and made a Conquest of his Heart. Signior Makenti was equally surprised and grieved to see her in this Condition, she was grown pale and lean, her Eyes were livid and hollow, and all the expressions of her Tongue, spoke an inward and settled discontent of Mind. Signior Conto and his Lady were no less afflicted, and advised with several of the most eminent Physicians, what should be the Cause of her Distemper, and what the most proper and speedy Cure; they all agreed she was with Child, and her Disease no other than the natural Infirmities of Women in such Cases, which her Parents heard with Horror and Amazement. The Doctors being gone, her Father and Mother with Tears in their Eyes conjured her to tell the Truth, and discover who was that lustful Paramour that had despoiled her of her Honour, and brought that stain and infamy upon their Family, which all their Tears were not able to wash away. Cleandra with no less trouble and astonishment, denied the Gild of such lewd Debaucheries, and by all the Sacred Powers of Heaven protested her Innocence and unspotted Chastity: The Sighs, Tears, and passionate Imprecations of Cleandra, persuaded her Parents at last to think the Doctors mistaken in their Judgements, and that the swelling of her Belly, which they considered as an Argument of her Pregnancy, was occasioned by a Tympany or some other Preternatural Tumour, which was the real Cause of her present Distemper.  
Some time after Dr. Parmel came over to Marli and excused himself that the multitude of Business had made him so great a Stranger, and wanting in those respectful Visits their great Civilties obliged him to; and missing Cleandra at Dinner, particularly Enquired how she did, and if she was yet married? Her Mother answered with a Sigh, that she was very ill and had been so for two months past, in which time she had not stirred out of her Chamber; Dr. Parmel seemed very much concerned at the young Lady's illness, and desired he might be admitted to see her, and that he should think himself extremely happy if the best of his Art and Skill could contribute any thing to her Recovery. Her Mother told him, she was afraid she already too well understood her Distemper, which in due time Nature would discharge of itself, and that indeed she was ashamed any Friend should see her in that Condition, which would end in Shame to herself, and Disgrace to all her Relations. The Dr. seemed wholly ignorant of what she meant (though extremely pleased at the success of his Design) and still more earnestly pressed to see her, which at last she consented to, and conducted him to Cleandra's Chamber, whom he found alone extreem Pensive and Melancholy. The Doctor after he had expressed his Respects and Sorrow for her present illness, desired to feel her Pulse, and after several other critical Observations more for form than any thing else, told her Mother her Distemper now would not be of long Continuance, that she was certainly with Child, and all that he could direct was as a Friend and not a Physician, that they would prevail with her to confess who was the Father, and by a speedy Marriage, prevent that Disgrace, which otherwise was unavoidable; whereupon the Mother desired him to use his Endeavours with her, to discover the Person, and that she would withdraw, that Cleandra might with more Freedom discourse him, and accordingly did so. After the Dr. had said what he thought convenient, in pursuit of that Question which he himself was only able to answer, he took his leave and told her Mother that was he not assured by all those infallible Symptoms he had observed that she was with Child, her solemn Protestations to the contrary, would almost persuade him to credit what she had said in her own Vindication: upon which her Mother asked him if it was possible for a Woman to Conceive in her Sleep, without being sensible of those Pleasures of Fruition, and the Person she enjoyed; to which the Dr. answered it was possible, and that we might observe it in several Persons who walk in their Sleep, and do those several Acts of which they have no remembrance when they wake. This one Argument prevailed with Signior Conto and his Lady, to believe Cleandra was with Child, and at the same time innocent of the Gild and ignorant of the Person; for she had oftentimes walked about her Chamber, and sometimes down into the Dairy, and so to Bed again, without remembering one tittle of it next morning.  
After several Considerations what was to be done in a matter of so much difficulty, and that did they know the real Father, he might possibly prove to be the Groom or Footman, where the discredit and reproach of such a Match would be equal to the infamous Name of Courtesan; the Dr. told them that if they thought him a worthy Husband for Cleandra, he would marry her immediately, nor did he value her being with Child, nor who was the Father, since he was so well satisfied her Soul was immaculate and pure, though her Reputation was stained; and that the preserving of her Fame, and the Honour of so illustrious a Family, was more dear to him than any private Interest or Respect to himself. Signior Conto was infinitely pleased to hear the Dr. express himself in those Terms, and after his most particular Thanks, told him he would endeavour in few days to dispose Cleandra to the Match, which he did, and ten days after they were privately married, not long after, Signior Conto and his Lady both died and left their whole Estate to Dr. Parmel, and his Children by Cleandra; who now lived at Marli in great esteem and Reputation.  
It happened one day after Dinner, the Doctor being in a most pleasant Humour, and the Discourse of the Company leading to it, he told them by what Trick he had married a Person of that Quality and Estate Cleandra was; at which they seemed very much surprised, but in Compliment commended his Design, which had now crowned him with so bountiful a Success. Cleandra bit her Lip, and by change of Colour, discovered the inward perplexity of her Thoughts, nor could she altogether refrain from some passionate expressions of her Resentment, that she should lie under the great Scandal of a Whore, and lose her Lover Makenti whom she loved dearer than her Life, and be so basely betrayed into a Marriage with so mean and perfidious a Wretch as the Doctor was. Some time after she writ a Letter to Makenti, and acquainted him with all the Circumstances of this Relation, who was extremely troubled at it; and upon the first Discourse of her being with Child, had utterly forsaken her and never since seen her. The Discovery of this Intrigue, created a more particular Love and Respect between Makenti and Cleandra, who readily agreed, to revenge the Injury they had both received from the faithless Doctor, by abusing his Bed in their Adulterous Enjoyments, and charging his Forehead with the shameful Emblem of a Cuckold, which they thought the heinousness of the provocation, would warrant them in. Thus did they continue in their Adulterous Pleasures, till the Doctor grew sensible of it, and by frequent Observations of their private Meetings, was sufficiently confirmed in the Truth of their lustful Embraces; whereupon he resolved to meet them with a proportionate Revenge which he thus effected. Having a young Gentlewoman under Cure, who was very much afflicted with the Venerial Distemper, he designedly infected himself with it, which he communicated to his Wife, and she to Makenti, who neither of them suspecting the present Cause of their Illness, were so surprised by the Venom of the Disease, that Makenti in a short time lost his Nose and both his Eyes, and hardly escaped with Life, spending the rest of his days in Shame and Repentance, Cleandra languished a long time in great Misery, which her Husband saw with Pleasure and Satisfaction, and growing weary at last to see her Distemper so tedious in the Punishment he designed, prepared a Cordial for her in which he infused a large Dose of Poison, and recommending it to her as a great Restorative to take at three in the afternoon, went abroad expecting at his Return to find her in the Agonies of Death. Dr. Parmel coming back very hot and faint (it being the midst of August) went directly to her Chamber, and sitting down by the Bedside took a Glass of Cordial Drink, which stood by amongst the rest, and hastily drank it 〈…〉 kindly askiing her how she did, and what good 〈◊〉 ●●und by that Cordial he had ordered her; I have 〈◊〉 taken it, said Cleandra, and don't design it till to 〈…〉 for I find myself much better than I was; at which 〈…〉 started and called for it, when the Maid 〈…〉 that was i● you drank Sir; at which he cried 〈…〉 poisoned; I am poisoned; and sent for his Confessor, to whom he related his intended Design of poisoning his Wife, which he was now heartily sorry for, and in two hours fell into Violent Convulsions, and died in great Torment. Cleandra continued in a most sad and deplorable Condition, and was afterwards removed to the Lazaretto, where she died in Misery and Ignominy.  Thus we see vicious Lives end in infamous Deaths, and the subtle Dr. Parmel at last deceived himself; and was overtaken by a Punishment as just as unexpected The lustful Makenti, and the fair but unchaste Cleandra receive their Torment by the poisonous Sting of those Pleasures they so Lasciviously and Adulterously delighted in.  

HIST. V. Bertolin and Aurella.  
Monsieur Bertolin commits Adultery with Aurella, Monsieur Chapee's Wife, his intimate Friend; upon the Discovery whereof she stabs herself. Monsieur Chapee in Revenge cheats Orinta, in the disguise of Bertolin her Husband, and lies with her; Bertolin surprises them in Bed, mortally Wounds Orinta, and is then killed by Chapee, who is apprehended and Executed for the Murder and Adultery.  
IN the Reign of that August and noble Prince, Henry the 4th King of France, the Marquis of Conti was made Governor of Orleans, in whose Family Monsieur Bertolin and Monsieur Chapee, two young Gentlemen of Noble Birth, and related to the Marquis and his Lady, received their Education and first Instructions in Arms and Military Discipline: the equality of their Age and Fortunes with their constant Society, rendered them by degrees most intimate and familiar Friends; and if their outward Shape and Features could add any thing to the inward Harmony of their Affections; never were two Persons more alike, they appeared the same, distinguished only by the different Appellations of Bertolin and Chapee. But as the figure of their Bodies so nearly resembled each other, so their Temper of Mind was as much unlike, Bertolin was proud and ●aughty, of a Courage that rather feared no Evil than loved what's Good, Chapee was modest and humble loved Goodness for its own native Beauty, and thought nothing so base and degenerous in a Gentleman as Sin and Wickedness At this time died Monsieur le Farin great Uncle to the Marquis, and left his Estate to Aurella a young Lady and his Niece, the Care of whose Person and Fortune he committed to the Marquis of Conti and his Lady, under whose prudent Government, she received all the accomplishments of a Religious and Virtuous Lady.  
The constant Conversation of Bertolin and Chapee with Aurella, and the consideration of her Fortune, which was very great, soon fired their Hearts with the Flames of Love and Affection towards her. The modesty of Aurella, her excellent Beauty and sweetness of Temper, were Charms able to warm the most frozen Breast, with zeal to her Person and admiration of her Virtue. These two Rivals made their Courtship to Aurella in Smiles and Glances, and all those little Services which might render them grateful to her, in which Bertolin and Chapee endeavoured to outdo each other, but still with that Respect and Friendship, that no Clouds of Jealousy appeared by any outward expressions of Disrespect. They used often to Hunt together, and one Morning, Chapee sent his Servant to Bertolin to acquaint him, he was going abroad a Hunting and desired his Company: Bertolin returned his Thanks, and told him he was yet in Bed, but would rise and follow after; who did so, but when he came into the Field, as he soon found the rest of the Company so he missed Chapee, and enquiring where he was, they answered, he came out with them, but the Dogs making a default by yonder Copse he rid in, and since they had nor seen him. Bertolin after four hours stay, (Chapee not yet coming, and the Sport growing cold) returned home where he expected to have met him, but the Groom told him he went abroad in the Morning, with the Dogs and had not been at home since, whereupon he went to Aurella's Chamber, where her Maid answered she was gone out in the Coach alone upon a Visit to Pontaret. The Wether being hot and Bertolin weary with his Morning's Exercise, he went to his Chamber, where after a turn or two, he lay down and drew the Curtains: a quarter of an hour after Chapee, and Aurella coming by his Chamber (the same Stairs leading to her Apartment) saw the door open and no Body there; and supposing Bertolin was yet in the Field walked in; but no sooner had they begun to express the constancy and sincerity of their Affection to each other, but they saw the Marquis coming cross the Court with intent as they suspected to visit Aurella, upon which Chapee, hastily asked if he should not that night be happy in her arms? Yes my dear, said Aurella, come between eleven and twelve, when my Maid is gone to her Chamber, and give three scratches upon the Door with your hand, let that be the signal and I will open it and let you in, The Marquis was now coming up the stairs, and Chapee and Aurella being unwilling he should see them together immediately parted.  
Bertolin overheard this discourse, and presently suspected Chapee had dealt deceitfully with him by inviting him abroad to Hunt, that he might alone enjoy the beautiful Aurella, which he had reason to believe from the freedom of their late Discourse, and that Chapee so soon left the Field, and when he came back found Aurella was gone out, who had no doubt made an Assignation to meet him, of which this was the Result that Chapee should that night be admitted to Aurella's Bed, to which promise his own Ears were Witnesses. Bertolin who ever had a most passionate Love for Aurella, and always believed her of unspotted Reputation and unquestionable Virtue; now began to exclaim against all her false and counterfeit pretensions to Modesty; called her all the names of a Whore and Strumpet which did not so much trouble him that she was dishonest, of which he now made no question, but that he himself was not her happy Paramour, and to see Chapee preferred to those Pleasures to which his own Merit and Abilities gave him equal claim, was an affront he scorned to bear. However since he had a Revenge so sweet in his own power, he resolved to prosecute it, and supplant Chapee of those Delights Aurella had promised with more Lust in her than Desert in him: And having the Signal which would gain him admittance at the hour appointed, he concluded to make use of it to his own Advantage. Night being come and Supper ended, Aurella retired to her Chamber, and Bertolin endeavoured to engage Chapee in Company with some Gentlemen of their Acquaintance at Cards, whilst he attended the lucky hour; which he did with so much Artifice, excusing himself that he was very ill of a pain in his Head, and desired to withdraw to his Chamber, that Chapee was obliged in Civility to his Friends, to stay with them, though he intended not to forfeit Aurella's Promise by two strict an observance of the Rules of Friendship and good Manners. Bertolin went up to his Chamber and undressed, diligently waiting till he heard Aurella's Maid go out of her Chamber, and then in his Gown and Slippers went softly up, and scratched three times upon her Door, she presently rose and opened it; the Candle was gone for fear the light might give any occasion of Suspicion, and Aurella took Bertolin by the hand and led him to her Bed, gently whispering him not to speak for fear they should be overheard by the Lady in the next Chamber.  
Whilst Bertolin was revelling in stolen Delights, and rifling the richest Jewel in the whole Treasury of Love, Chapee came to the Door and scratched three times, according to Aurella's Directions, which Bertolin heard, but Aurella's Senses were all lost, and dissolved in Raptures of Bliss. Chapee for fear of being discovered, went discontedly back to his Chamber, accusing the innocent Aurella of Treachery and Injustice, and cursing his unhappy Stars which first inclined him to Love and believe false and deceitful Women. In the morning early Bertolin stole from Aurella's arms, leaving her fast asleep and went to his own Chamber and so to Bed; his languishing Spirits coveted a Refreshment, and each weary Member a quiet Repose. Aurella according to her Custom hearing the Bell toll to Chapel, dressed and went to Prayers, where she saw Chapee with a sad and dejected Countenance like one who had been all night under the severities of Penance, which she little susspected had been true in the literal sense. Prayers being done, Aurella went up to her Chamber and Chapee followed, and upon the Stairs with a stern look told her, he thought his present Title to her Affections had been of more value with her than to be so slighted, and her promise more sacred to him than so easily violated. Aurella replied I am sorry my Dear, you did not reap the satisfaction you expected, I had thought our endearments had been mutual and our Happiness equal in our exalted joys. The Marquis at that word called Chapee, which broke off the Discourse. Aurella went up to her Chamber very much dissatisfied with Chapee's Behaviour and Expressions, and he no less concerned at her Reply wondering with himself, what could be the sense and meaning of it.  
Bertolin was now risen, and according to his Custom went to walk in the Garden, where he found Aurella gathering Flowers and her Maid at a distance from her, upon which he addressed himself to her with this Compliment; These Flowers Madam are happy to be gathered by your fair Hands, but certainly much happier is that Man who shall crop the blushing Rose of your Virginity; Aurella started at the Expression, and told him those were Flowers in Discourse, which she did not understand nor know how to answer. Bertolin proceeded, is the memory of last night's Enjoyments so soon faded? Madam I assure you the relish of it is yet fresh in my Fancy, and my unwearied Imagination ev'ry minute repeats those Pleasures with fresh Delights; Aurella was strangely surprised at his Discourse, and after a little pause told him, she had quite forgot all Riddles, and he that made them was best able to explain them. Whereupon Monsieur Bertolin, discovered the Secret, telling her how happily he had overheard their discourse, and the advantage he had made of it, and that if it was a Crime, he hoped that absolute Royalty of Love, which encouraged him to the Trangression would pardon the fault. Aurella heard him with Wonder and Astonishment, and with a deep sigh answered, Alas Monsieur! Your mistaken suspicion of my Dishonesty, will prove your Unhappiness and my Ruin! Our Loves were not unchaste as you imagined, I was yesterday privately married at Pontaret to Monsieur Chapee, and the Signal I gave him to enter my Chamber, was to complete our Religious Vows in innocent Embraces, you have for ever undone me, your Friend and yourself— Oh, Oh, and with that swooned away, Bertolin called her Maid to assist him, by whose help they carried her to her Chamber, where she continued all day extremely ill. Monsieur Chapee was presently acquainted with it, who came to know the reason; to whom Aurella with showers of Tears related all the passages of the last night's Transactions adding in the close, since we are so unfortunate in our Love, Heaven pardon me, and comfort you; I will rather choose to Sacrifice my Life to the Memory of my lost Honour, and die a Martyr to my Virtue, than live with the Shame and Ignominy of a Strumpet, and at that word struck a Poniard to her Heart of which she immediately died.  
Monsieur Bertolin, upon the first notice of Aurella's Tragical end, took Horse for Paris, where he continued some time, and then travelled into Spain and Italy, and after three years returned to Paris, where he settled and married Orinta, Monsieur Cardan's eldest Daughter, a Lady who had ingross'd all the perfections of her Sex in her single self. Monsieur Chapee was for some time, distracted with that torment of Grief which now seemed to over-whelm him, but after two years' time recovered his Senses, and vowed a severe Revenge, should only quit scores with so treacherous a Friend and degenerous an Enemy.  
Monsieur Chapee, after several inquiries, at last heard Monsieur Bertolin was returned to France and married at Paris, where he lived in great State and Splendour; this refreshed his Memory, with the heinousness of that injury he had formerly offered him, and the loss of so Virtuous a Wife who suffered upon his Account, which now whetted his anger to a sharp Revenge, and exacted from him the Justice of as rigorous Punishment. After several considerations in what proper method he should challenge a satisfaction, he resolved to Pistol him as cowardly, as he had treacherously abused him; but this not so well consisting with the Honour and Gallantry of Chapee, to take a base and ignoble Revenge; upon second thoughts, he resolved to pay him in his own Coin, and make his abuse to Aurella, the square of his Revenge on Bertolin, to this purpose, he went privately to Paris, where after he had learned where Bertolin lived, he lodged himself hard by, and narrowly watched his going abroad, and at last by some Spies he hired to that purpose understood that three days after he designed to follow the Court to St. Germane where he intended to stay a Week, and leave his Lady Orinta at home. No sooner was Bertolin gone his Journey, but in the Evening late he came to his House, in the same Travelling Habit as Bertolin wore, which rendered him so like, that his very Servants received him as their Master; but for fear of any Discovery, he had bribed Orinta's Woman with a Purse of Gold, in which were a hundred Pistols, who was ready below to receive him, and conduct him to his Lady's Chamber, who was just gone to Bed. Orinta no sooner saw him, but believing him to be her Husband cried out, O Lord my Dear, I hope you have met with no misfortune, I did not expect you so soon; No said Chapee with a low voice, I forgot a Paper I must give to the Secretary of State, which was the occasion of my Return, I must go back to morrow early and therefore I'll make haste to Bed; upon which he undressed and stepped into Bed, where no man had ever better Opportunity or Encouragement to the Sweets of Revenge than Chapee now had. About twelve, the real Monsieur Bertolin returned, having accidentally met with some Friends 3 miles out of Town, who diverted his Journey for two or three days, upon promise they would bear him Company, if he would defer it till then, and spend the day with them at Bowls, which he accepted of. Bertolin came hastily into his Chamber, without the least suspicion of finding a Gallant in Bed with his Wife, whom he no sooner saw, without distinguishing who he was, but he passed at his Wife with his Sword who lay next, and ran her deep into the left Breast: Chapee suddenly stepped out of Bed, and catching his Sword which lay naked by, prevented Bertolin's Revenge upon himself, by running him through the Heart of which Wound he dropped down dead upon the place. The next morning Orinta died with great Pity and Lamentation for her unnhappy end. Monsieur Chapee was presently apprehended, who voluntarily confessed the Murder which he was forced to in his own Defence; and the reason of his Adultery with Orinta (of which she was altogether innocent) that he might satisfy the Injuries he had received from Monsieur Bertolin in a proportionable Revenge, for which he was condemned to lose his Head before the Bastile in Paris, which two days after was executed accordingly.  
He that cherishes one Sin because is it but one, entertains a Legion of Devils in the singular Number, which like the seeming Viper is big with a poisonous Offspring of numerous Enemies.  
Thus Monsieur Bertolin, thought Lust but a weak Enemy which once admitted, soon ripened into three Murders, two Adulteries, and his own shameful and fatal Execution.   

HIST. VI St. Quintin and Cloissa.  
The Count of St. Quintin commits Adultery with Lovisia Countess of St. Denis, and kills her Husband in a Duel; whereupon he flies to Antwerp, and there debauches Cloissa, Wife to the Heer Van Zetken. The House being accidentally fired, Cloissa is supposed burnt in it, but is preserved by the Count They live in Adultery, till he falling from his Horse, is dragged dead to her Door; upon which she is discovered and dies suddenly.  
THe Count of St. Quintin, was a Cavalier eminently known in the Court of France, for his Intrigue with Madamoyselle Lovisia, Wife to the Earl of St. Denis; The Count her Husband growing sensible of the Injury and Disgrace he received from St. Quintin, sent him a Challenge, upon which they met in an adjacent Field to Fountain-bleau, where St. Denis was mortally wounded, of which in six Weeks after he died▪ St. Quintin withdrew himself for some time, and when he heard of the Death of St. Denis, made his escape to Antwerp, chief Town in the Marquisate of the Empire, in the Dukedom of Brabant; his Lady and the rest of his Family followed after, where he continued till the Justice of Heaven punished his present and former Debaucheries by a Tragical and deserved Death.  
At this time the Heer Van Zetken was Governor of Antwerp, to whom the Count of St. Quintin upon his first arrival made his Compliment, and was received by him with all the expressions of Respect and Kindness, due to a Gentleman of his Quality and Grandeur. The Count seeing himself daily obliged by the Civilites of the Governor, paid his acknowledgements to him in constant Visits, which by degrees rendered them most intimate and familiar Acquaintance. The generous Hospitality of the Governor, often invited St. Quintin to his House, and the courtly behaviour of the Earl made him a welcome and acceptable Guests. These frequent interviews, gave him the opportunity of a free Converse with his Lady Cloissa, whose Beauty was alone able to subdue an Empire, and her Wit Command it. But alas Cloissa's Beauty was not adorned with Honesty, nor her Wit inspired with Grace. St. Quintin (whose Inclinations were always Amorous) soon discovered the imperfections of Cloissa, and how to attaque the Fort where it was least capable of resistance. To this end, he courted all opportunities of Address to her, in which he behaved himself with that Artifice and Cunning, that his sutble Charms soon won Cloissa's Heart, and made her a Slave to his Lust, whose Honour and Chastity had they equalled her Wit and Beauty, would have made her an Angel on Earth, and a Saint in Heaven.  
The great Observance and profound Respects the Earl of St. Quintin constantly paid Cloissa, were diligently remarked by Captain Cassel, a young Gentleman, and an Officer in the Town, who was deeply enamoured with her Beauty, and promised himself that happy Conquest, which he now presumed the Gallantry and courtship of the Count had robbed him of; this made him resolute in his Revenge, which his Interest and Familiarity with the Governor in some Measure gave him an Opportunity to effect, which he endeavoured in this manner. Being one day alone, with the Governor in his Closet, he took occasion to commend the Count for a most complete Gentleman, adding that if he was as great a Soldier, as he was an accomplished Courtier, he believed his Valour and Conduct would render him no less successful in War, than he was now prosperous in all his Amorous Encounters, with the fairer Sex. Say you so? said the Governor, is t●e Count of St. Quintin, so great an Artist in the affairs of Love? Yes my Lord, said Captain Cassel, and has Confidence enough to tempt a Nun, if once his Breast is warmed with the heats of Passion and Desire. You would make me jealous said the Governor, did I not believe you are mistaken in your Character of him; I have oftentimes observed his familiar Freedom with my Wife, but never yet questioned his Honour or her Honesty. Heaven forbid, replied the Captain, no doubt but the fair Cloissa, is Virtuous too, chaste and Uncorrupt as the falling Snow or Virgin Fountain; but this once shed upon the Earth, is trod by every common Foot, and those Waters which were pure in their Original Bed, do often lodge in dirty Ditches, and by the dangerous Neighbourhood of Filth at last incorporate with it, and become polluted Streams. I mean Sir the Devil tempted Eve, and she yielded to it. But though I believe the Count of St. Quintin dare be a Devil in his Temptation; yet I hope Cloissa will never be an Eve in her Compliance. This Discourse fired the Governors' Breast with Jealousy and Suspicion, and to add more Fuel to the Flame, looking accidentally out of the Window, he saw the Count and Cloissa walking hand in hand in the Garden; but being at that instant acquainted that some of the principal Officers of the Town attended him in the Hall, he broke off the Discourse and went immediately down to them.  
Two days after, the Count received this Letter from one of his Footmen which was delivered to him in the Streets by an unknown Person with Orders to carry it immediately to his Lord,  
Cloissa to the Count of St. Quintin.  
My Lord,  
THe jealousy of my Husband (notwithstanding our Care and Secrecy) begins to suspect my Friendship to you ex●ceeds the Bounds of my Faith to him, and Honour to myself; for which reason, he hath severely checked me, and confined me to my Chamber; But all his cruelty shall never divide my Heart from you, though at present he denys me the enjoyment of your Company, and those ravishing Pleasures I covet with equal Ardour. I suppose Captain Cassel (whose Courtship I always entertained with a Frown, and slighted his want of Merit with my constant Disrespect) is the sole cause of it, whose Insolence, your Prudence and Courage know best how to correct. Farewell my Dear Lord, and be as constant in your Love to me, as I am sincere in my Affection to you, which shall never Expire, but with the dying Breath of your  
Cloissa.  
The Count upon the Receipt of this Letter, was very much concerned for the distress of Cloissa, but not knowing how to remedy it, at present concealed his Resentments; and lest he should give further Suspicion of his Gild to the Governor, by the discontinuance of his Visits, made them as frequent as before, still expressing his Respect to him, with the same serene Countenance and easy Freedom he used to do. He had now leisure to meditate a Revenge on Captain Cassel, but considering him as a particular Favourite of the Governors, he thought it not discretion to give him any public Affront; but understanding he had an Intrigue with Olivia (the Daughter of one Caldus a Shoemaker, who was dead) and by fair promises had got her with Child, and now deserted her; he privately by Bautrin his Tailor, encouraged her to complain to the Governor, which she did, and exposed the Captain to the discourse of the Town, in his Name and Reputation, but without any advantage to herself. This so incensed Olivia, who had the Courage of an Amazon and the Malice of a Woman, that she swore a Revenge, and Bautrin acquainted the Count with her Resolution, who ordered Bautrin to animate her in it, and tell her, that Cassel was a dastardly Captain, and if she sent him a Challenge in the name of some Friend of hers he would never dare to fight, but sign what Terms she offered. Olivia who was of a bold undaunted Spirit, approved his Advice, saying, if she had but clothes, Horse and Arms, she would immediately prosecute it; which Bautrin promised, and two days after furnished her with all Necessaries, that she wanted nothing now but an Opportunity to engage her Enemy, and revenge herself on the faithless and treacherous Captain. Olivia being thus equipped by the directions of Bautrin sent Captain Cassel this Challenge by a private Footman in an unknown Livery.  
For Captain Cassel.  
THe Injury you have done poor Olivia, whose Innocence and Virtue you have basely betrayed, obliges me to demand satisfaction of you; as I am a Gentleman and a Soldier I am engaged by the honour of both, to relieve the distressed; for which and no other Reason, I expect you alone, at five to morrow morning on Horseback with Sword and Pistol, in the Field next the North-gate, without the Wall, where the Courage of my Heart and justice of my Cause, shall make you as infamous in your Death, as you have been vicious in your Life  
Polyntus.  
The Captain received this Challenge with Wonder and Surprise, enquired of the Footman who his Master was, but he being instructed to the contrary, told him he had no Orders to resolve any Questions, but return with his Answer; which the Captain with some trouble and disorder told him he should have, and bid him acquaint his Master, he would not fail to meet him upon the Word of a Gentleman and Reputation of a Soldier, at the time and place appointed. These Champions met accordingly, and the Female Warrior without any Compliment discharged a Pistol, which wounded the Captain in the left Shoulder, upon which he immediately desired a Parley, and promised the present payment of a hundred Pistols, to compose the Quarrel, which Olivia accepted of, and an hour after received them at his Quarters, and then discovered herself: For the bravery of this Action, Olivia was highly commended of all, and the Captain so scorned and flouted that he immediately quitted his Command and retired into the Country to a private Life.  
The Count made very good advantage of Captain Cassels Disgrace, and so well improved it, that the Governor reflecting on the Debauchery of the Captain, which was so notoriously apparent, began to think the Count innocent of his Aspersions, and Cloissa truly Virtuous; upon which he soon after took off her restraint, but still watched her Behaviour with an observing Eye. This the Count was sensible of, which made them both so cautious to prevent new Fears and Jealousies in the Husband, that they never durst exchange a Smile or one Amorous Glance but by stealth, and all their present Delights, were but the empty effects of exalted imagination.  
A Month after, the Governor appointed a Mask and invited the Count, his principal Officers and several Gentlemen of the Town, who all came in Masquerading Habits; The Count had notice of it a Week before, and withal from Cloissa that her Husband had strictly charged her to keep her Chamber that night, for he did not think it proper she should appear, since he had only designed the Entertainment for Gentlemen, nor was there any of her Sex to be admitted: This was a great affliction to Cloissa who had some hopes by the advantage, of her Disguise, to have had a more private Converse with the Count, which she saw herself now wholly debarred from. The Count having considered the Circumstances of time and place, communicated his design to an intimate Acquaintance, and desired him to be there dressed in the same Habit exactly with himself, but to stand in a Corner where he might not be taken notice of, with a Cloak on, and not to appear till he gave him his Q. to enter. After two hours' Diversion, they were all conducted into the Dining-Room where they had a noble and splendid Entertainment, and pulling off their Masks, paid their mutual Respects to one another. The collation being over they returned to the Hall, and the Count withdrew to his Friend, where he put on his Cloak, and sent him into the Hall to Masquerade his Person, who was so like him in the Proportion of his Body, Stature and Habit, that the most critical Eye, could not distinguish him. The Count was immediately conducted to Cloissa's Apartment by Lydia her Woman, where the Lovers feasted their longing desires in the unbounded Joys of their Adulterous and Lascivious Passions.  
In the midst of their Pleasures above, the Footmen and Servants were Revelling in Drunkenness below; whereby their Carelessness and Neglect of their Flambeaux, the Room was fired, which burned so furiously that in an instant, Cloissa's Chamber which was overhead, was in a bright Flame before they were sensible of it. The Gentlemen in the Hall were strangely surprised with the loud Outcries of Fire, and as little able to assist in the extinguishing the Flames, as their drunken Servants; but each made haste away to preserve himself. The Count and Cloissa by the Care and Diligence of Lydia, had more early notice of the Danger and almost choked with the Smoke, with great difficulty got down the back Stairs; and thus they all three sav'd-themselves from the rage of the devouring Flames. No sooner were they got safe into the Court, but the Roof fell down, and the Count spreading his Cloak over Cloissa (who was in her Night Gown) carried her to his Coach, and with her and Lydia went to his Friends Lodgings, who had personated him in the Hall, who presently came in, in great Horror and Affright, believing the Count (who he knew was in Cloissa's Chamber) had been burnt with her, for the Report at the House, was, that Cloissa and her Maid had both suffered in the Flames.  
The next day, the Count disposed Cloissa and Lydia, to a private Lodging three miles off in the Country where he made his constant Visits to her, and without control indulged himself in her lustful Arms, and the dissolute Pleasures of her Adulterous Bed. The Governor her Husband sadly lamented her Loss and continued in close Mourning for her a Twelvemonth after; which she often had the pleasure to see and smile at, as often as she met him in the Streets, where she never appeared in her Coach, but with her Mask on. Thus they continued for two years, riotous in their Pleasures, only then most happy, when in their close Embraces they were most luxuriously wicked; till at last the Countess was privately acquainted with the Amours of her Husband; which he had so secretly managed that the Lady was yet undiscovered. It happened one day that the Count being ready to go abroad to make his customary Visits to his Mistress, the Countess earnestly entreated him to stay within, adding she was not ignorant of his secret Pleasures, which she with more Passion than Prudence charged him withal. The Count highly enraged, told her he should not forget her Insolence, nor should her Prayers or Tears prevail with him, though all the Devils in Hell opposed him in the way; at which he clapped Spurs, to his Horse and rid on with full speed: But had not gone above two miles, before his Horse threw him, and (his Foot hanging in the Stirrup) dragged him along the Road, till he had beat out his Brains; and coming to Cloissa's Lodgings, stopped at the door, who soon saw the wretched and deplorable end of her Unhappy and Adulterous Lover.  
The Countess had presently notice of the miserable Death of her Husband, and in her Coach went directly to Cloissa's Lodgings (where his mangled Body lay) and here saw the most rueful Sight that ever Eyes beheld. After she had in some measure discharged her Grief in showers of Tears and lamentable Exclamations, she sent for the Officers, and desired, that the Strumpet who had been the sole cause of this Misfortune, might be apprehended and carried before the Governor, whose Justice she hoped, would punish her according to the Quality of the Crime and her own Demerits. Cloissa and Lydia, were presently seized and carried before the Governor where the Countess spared no Aggravations, her Passion prompted her to, or the Circumstances of the thing admitted of. The Governor with an attentive Ear, heard this dismal Relation, and expressed his Sorrow for the loss of so worthy a Gentleman and intimate Friend as the Count was and then ordered the accursed Lady to make her defence, and withal, bid her and her Maid put up their Hoods and discover their Faces; which they delaying to do, the Officers pulled them off, when the Governor at first sight, knew her to be his Wife, and with surprise and wonder cried out, It is my Wife, It is my Wife; at which words she dropped down in a Swoon from which she never recovered. Lydia to the great Astonishment of the Governor and the numerous crowd of Spectators, gave a full Relation of all these Passages, which she had been privy to; whereupon she was committed to Prison, and a Week after condemned to be publicly whipped in the Market Place of Antwerp, and for ever banished the City.  He that goes on in a constant Course of Sin, runs on the Devil's Errand, and like St. Quintin, rides Post to his own Execution: whilst the guilty Cloissa, conscious of her Shame, dies suddenly under the horror of her own Crimes, to prevent a more ignominious Punishment.  

HIST. VII. Rigidoro and his two Sons.  
Carollo, steals Corinna his Sister unknown, from the Nunnery of St. Bridget and lives in Incest with her; for which he is condemned to lose his Head, and she burnt. Erasto marries Favonia a common Strumpet, Rigidoro disinherits him. He Murders his Father and flies, is afterwards taken by the Turks; commits Adultery with Adulla his Patron 's Wife, whereupon she is strangled, and he flayed alive. Favonia dies miserably in the Burdelloes of the foul Disease.  
IN the Popedom of Pius Quintus, Signior Rigidoro ayoung extravagant Gentleman lived at Rome, who according to the modish Gallantries of the Age, was a very complete and fashionable Sinner, and familiarly acquainted with Emilia a young Lady, by whom he had one Daughter named Corinna; who (to prevent the Shame, and conceal the Lewdness of her Parents) was privately educated; and assoon as her Age had qualified her for the Vows of a Religious Life disposed to the Nunnery of St. Bridget. Presently after the Birth of Corinna, Rigidoro married Mariana the only daughter of Signior Placento a Goldsmith; whose plentiful Fortune was above the Quality of her Family, and by her had two Sons Carollo and Erasto, and one Daughter. Carollo the eldest was no sooner arrived to those years which ought to have entitled him as discreet as manly; but he was eminently known through the whole City for the debaucheries of his Life and Conversation, which rendered him no less acceptable to the lewd and vicious, than he was abhorred and detested by all virtuous and sober Men. As he went one day with some Gentlemen to see the Nunnery of St. Bridget, where one of his Friends had a Sister lately entered, he had the Fortune to see a young Gentlewoman, whose Beauty suddenly inflamed his Heart, with the wanton desires of Love; which he cherished, though but with slender hopes of accomplishing his Design, and reaping that satisfaction he so earnestly coveted; after he had inquired who she was he understood her name was Corinna, but her parents unknown. Corinna was no less enamoured of Carollo and growing weary of the smart and severe Discipline she was confined to, resolved to embrace the first Opportunity to discharge herself of those sacred Fetters which rendered Carollo's Courtship more easy and successful. Not to relate all the Intrigues of their Love which were many, dark and mysterious, to prevent the suspicion of the Lady-Abbess and the Holy-Sisters her Companions; Carollo in two months' time gained her Heart, upon the promise of Marriage, and a Dispensation from the Pope, and at last by his Assistance, she made her Escape. Corinna was lodged at Monsieur Torquato's House, his particular Friend, where her Name and all the Circumstances of her Quality, were so well disguised that nothing appeared but what was just and honourable: And here he first gained the Enjoyment of his unlawful Pleasures under the umbrage and promise of future Matrimony, which he religiously swore to, and she credulously believed. Carollo having now satiated his Lust, began to make his Visits more seldom, and was soon cloyed with the Repetition of such unchaste Delights. In the Interim, whilst they banqueted their Senses in the fruition of sacrilegious Pleasures, Corinna was discovered by the search made after her, and apprehended one night in the embraces of her lascivious Paramour, who was seized by the same Officers, and both imprisoned till the Pope and the Conclave of Cardinals, were acquainted with the Fact. Rigidoro was not long a stranger to the Misfortune of his Son, but when he understood the Lady's Name was Corinna, his Daughter, and Carollo's Sister; he was so incensed, that nothing could reconcile him, but resolved he himself would rather be the Prosecutor, than Carollo should not be punished according to his demerits. This present Fury of Rigidoro, was soon allayed by his Natural Affection to his Son and Daughter, but his Passion and Indiscretion, had so far transported him; that in the extremities of his Rage, he discovered the nearness of their Relation▪ which the Pope and Conclave being acquainted with, all Intercession for his and Corinna's Life, was ineffectual though Rigidoro offered a very considerable sum, and six days after Carollo was condemned to lose his Head for violating the Nunnery in stealing Corinna and then committing Incest with her. Corinna's Crime was no less heinous and her punishment as just and severe; she was first sentenced to be Immured, and so starved to Death between two Walls, which Judgement the Court was afterwards pleased at the Prayers of her Father, to change into a speedier Death, and ordered that 3 days after in her Nun's Habit she should be burnt near Trajan's Pillar, which was accordingly executed upon her.  
Rigidoro was very much afflicted, at the Tragical and Unfortunate End of Carollo and Corinna but time at last dried up his Tears; and the hopes he had of being happy in Erasto and his Sister, abated his Sorrows and gave some Refreshment to his distressed Mind: But alas? we too often flatter ourselves, with the expectations of Happiness here, from that very Subject, which proves the only occasion of our Trouble and Misery. Erasto was as vicious and debauched as Carollo had been, and no less incontinent, though more private in his Sins, which at last were punished by a cruel and ignominious Death. Amongst the variety of lewd Women whose Company and acquaintance were his only Pleasure and Delight. Favonia was one, a common Strumpet and as notoriously infamous as any of her Profession, who considering the great Estate Erasto would be Master of upon the Death of his Father, resolved to make the best advantage of him, and by counterfeiting a Religious Sorrow and Penitence for 〈◊〉 miscarriages of her former Life, to gain him for 〈◊〉 Husband or else absolutely rerefuse him those enjoyments he so passionately longed for. Erasto attempted her with noble Presents and richer 〈…〉 would consent to his Desires; which she slighted with scorn and contempt, telling him that all the Glories of Rome laid at her Feet should never prevail upon her fixed Resolution to Honour and Virtue; and that as her more youthful days had been prodigally spent in the Pleasures of Sin and Wickedness, so now her riper Age and the whole remainder of her Life, should be entirely dedicated to Virtue and Goodness. Erasto pursued her with all the Temptations his Suit and Fancy could invent, but still in vain; whereupon he at last consented to marry her, which was privately solemnised by Father jacomo the Priest, to the great Satisfaction of Favonia, and the utter Ruin of Erasto. Two months this Marriage was concealed from Rigidoro, but he at last was acquainted with it, and charged Erasto with the Truth of what he had heard; that he had married Favonia the most impudent Courtesan in all Rome: Erasto acknowledged that he was married, and without his advice or consent, for which he humbly begged his Pardon; that the Person he had married, was called Favonia, but chaste and virtuous as the most modest Nun; and however her Reputation had been formely stained, she had washed out those Spots with Tears and Repentance: and though possibly she had been loose and dissolute in her Virgin State, she was now a most loving chaste and Virtuous Wife. Rigidoro was so highly provoked to hear his Son vindicate Favonia's Fame, and justify his own Error, that he immediately turned him out of Doors, and disinherited him, telling him with a deep Oath he would rather give his whole Estate to the Lazaretto, than relieve his utmost Distresses, with the least expression of common Charity or Kindness.  
Erasto acquainted Favonia with Rigidoro's Cruelty, saying if he continued his severity toward him he cancelled all his Obligations of Duty and Respect to him, by his barbarous and inhuman Usage; and that he would Study a Revenge which should make him as miserable as himself. And being now reduced to great Poverty and Want, and finding his Father inexorable, notwithstanding he endeavoured a Reconciliation by a most profound Submission to him, owning his Fault and begging his Pardon for his Offence; resolved, with his own hand to Murder him in the Street, rather than see him live in a plentiful and prosperous Estate, whilst he starved for want of Bread. Thus the Devil encouraged him to the most villainous Sin of Parricide without any prospect of Happiness to himself, but as he gratified present Revenge by destroying that Life, from whence he had received his own, and since to live miserably is the most grievous punishment of Life; he resolved a violent Death should make his Father as unhappy as he was wretched. To this end he watched frequently in the dark of the Evening over against Rigidoro's House, and seeing him come forth without any Attendance, followed him, and suddenly ran his Rapier in at his Back quite through his Body, upon which Rigidoro fell to the Ground Dead, and Erasto made his Escape. Presently after the Body was found, and within three days decently buried, great search was made for the Murderers; but no Person discovered on whom they could fix the Gild. Erasto, who was constantly haunted with the Terrors of an evil Conscience, and the dread of that Punishment he had so justly deserved, fled aboard one of the Pope's Galleys which was bound for Sicily, and was afterwards taken by two Turks Men of War belonging to Tunis, and all the Seamen and Passengers, who survived the Fight (which was very bloody) either made Slaves aboard their own Vessels, or disposed to Land-Servitude, amongst whom Erasto was sold ashore, to Barbarossa a Person of principal Note and Command in Tunis.  
Erasto had now leisure to reflect on the vicious and wicked Courses of his former Life, and particularly on the bloody and inhuman Murder of his Father, which he now saw in some measure punished by the Miseries of his present Condition; which wrought Complaint & Sorrow for the Evils he now suffered under, rather than a true and sincere Penitence for his notorious Offences. But though Barbarossa his Patron was severe and cruel, Adulla his Wife was more kind to him, and often when her Husband was abroad, brought him Victuals into the Garden where he worked, above what was allowed him, or the other Slaves had, which Erasto interpreted as a particular Respect and Love to his Person, which made her so charitable and bountiful to him, and hoped to improve, to a more considerable Advantage. The other Slaves grumbled at Adulla's Kindness to Erasto, and acquainted Barbarossa with it, who presently entertained jealous thoughts of his Wife, and used Erasto with the greater Severity, which Adulla being sensible of, redoubled her Kindness, and upon the first Opportunity expressed her more particular Love to him, which Erasto readily Embraced, promising that no Torments should ever extort a Confession from him, of those obliging Favours he received. Their Amorous entertainments had been many and frequent, which Barbarossa was not altogether ignorant of; but willing that their Crime should be as apparent as he intended their Punishment, dissembled his Anger; and one day pretending to go abroad, concealed himself in the House, till he had notice by one of the Slaves (who was a Spy over all their Actions) that Adulla was retired to her Chamber, and had sent for Erasto, who was gone in to her; upon which he followed up, and surprised them in the very Act. The next day Erasto and Adulla were carried in Chains before the Divan, and there accused by Barbarossa of Adultery, which was so undeniably proved against them that Erasto was condemned to be flayed alive, and Adulla delivered to her Husband to be punished as he thought convenient, who immediately ordered two of his Slaves to strangle her. Thus died Erasto miserably at Tunis whilst Favonia returned to her old profession at Rome, and lived in all the lewdness and debauchery of a common Strumpet, till at last she was infected with the foul Disease, and died with Shame and Ignominy in the Burdelloes.  Fornication, Incest, and Adultery, are three Furies with Virgin's Faces, but their shining Locks are plated Serpents; like Sirens they sing Melodiously, till they have charmed us into Misery; and made us more ugly in our Natures, than the Companions of Ulysses in their Shapes, transformed into Swine.  

HIST. VIII. The Duchess of ulme.  
Anne of Werdenberg is carried away by the Lord of Zeringen; rescued by Captain Conrade, and afterwards married to the Duke of Ulme: she falls in Love with Philip (Conrade's Brother) by mistake, seeks to poison him, and is discovered; afterwards runs away with the Lord of Zeringen, and lives in Adultery with him. He is Slain and she taken Prisoner and shut up in a Dungeon. Conrade by the means of his Brother Philip, her Keeper, lies with her, they are surprised by the Duke, Conrade kills the Duke, and himself and the Duchess are slain by his Guard.  
IN that part of Germany which is called Suevia, lived once a Prince whose Name was Rodolph, of the Family of Schwalen, entitled Duke of Ulme, an imperial City in those Parts founded at first by Charles the Great; this Rodolph after the Death of his Father succeeded in his Principality at thirty years of Age, and being as yet unmarried resolved to make his own choice, & contrary to the mind of most Princes, to have a greater Respect to Love than Interest or Reason of State: whereupon he declined all those offers made to him in his Father's Life time that he might have the liberty of his own Election, and please his Fancy in one from whom he might assure himself of reciprocal Love and Affection. The curious Rodolph had seen all the Ladies of Quality those Countries afforded without being charmed by any of them, till at last, hearing of the celebrated Wit and famed Beauty of Ann the Daughter of the Earl of Werdenberg, a Town in the Province of Suevia, he road over to the Earl's Castle▪ with a handsome Equipage, where he soon found Report had not been too lavish in her praise: The Angelical form of this Lady at first sighed Conquered Rodolph's Heart, but when he discover, d the acuteness of her Wit, and Ingenuity of mind, he soon concluded her the Paragon of her Sex. But alas! he could not penetrate her Soul, nor behold the Vices which lay concealed under so fair an Outside; with all these Accomplishments she was fickle and Inconstant, Sullen and Revengeful, and what is yet worse, of an Incontinent and Lustful Temper; but the Duke saw none of these deformities, the lustre of her Eyes, and the bright Glories of her Beauteous Form had dazzled his, upon which he acquainted the Earl with his pretensions to this Young Lady, who knowing the Worth of the Duke, readily embraced so fair an Offer for the Advancement of his Daughter, and the Alliance with so Potent a Prince, by who●e Power and Assistance he should be able to oppose himself to some Enemies he had of the House of Hadsburgh, who were now in Arms against him. Rodolph made his Court to the Lady Anne, whom he found very reserved and shy, who entertained him Civilly, but without any sign of Love and Affection, so that he soon perceived it must be a long and formal Siege could take her in, and accomplish his Desires.  
At this time there was a great Contest between the Earl of Wer●enberg (the Father of this Lady) and Birthold Lord of (Zeringen, of the Family of Hadsburg) about certain Lands; which difference was grown so great, that they had both appeared in Arms, and the Lord of Zeringen, by the powerful Aid of his Friends, gotten much the better of it. This young Lord was not above the Age of Five and Twenty, and possessed of a fair Estate, who, tho' he was at difference with the Father, was in friendship with the Daughter, and having once upon the Road surprised her, and made her Prisoner for some Hours, was suddenly Captivated with the Excellence of her Wit and Beauty, and not only released her, but discovered his Passion to her, begging that She might be the only Reward of his Conquests, and all their Hostile Disputes amicably reconciled in the happy Conjunction of their Persons, by the Sacred Bonds of Marriage. Not long after, Birthold, by his Friends, made Overtures of Peace to the Earl, and proposed a Match between himself and the Lady Anne, and that the Lands in question should be Assigned over as part of her Dowry. But the Earl diverted this Design by his unreasonable demands, which Birthold in Honour could not comply withal. However Birthold made secret Court to the Lady, and at last obtained the Favour of a private meeting with his Mistress, and notwithstanding the Obstinacy of the Father, came to Terms with the Daughter, and unknown to the Earl, they were Contracted, making sure of each other, before the Ceremonies of the Church had confirmed their Vows.  
But the Duke by renewing his Suit, interrupted the secret Converse of the Lovers which tho' he knew not of, yet fearing the propositions of Peace made by his Rival Birthold, should take Effect, offered the Earl a supply of five hundred men, which he accepted, and by this powerful Assistance regained the greatest part of those Lands Birthold had made himself Master of. This so far enraged Birthold (his Affairs growing every day into a worse Condition, and fearing the loss of his Mistress, with whom he had frequent meetings in disguise) that he earnestly solicited her to make her flight with him, which she as often refused with a Compliment, That she hoped the Valour and good Fortune of her Lover would at last compel her Father to Consent; which he seeing no probability of, resolved by Stratagem to carry her off. To this end he engaged her Maid Mariana by rich Presents, to tempt her abroad the next Day to take the Air, and then conduct her to a remote place (at an appointed Hour) in the Park adjoining to the Castle, where they no sooner arrived, but they were surprised by some Horsemen in Ambush, and notwithstanding their Shrieks and Outcries, were forcibly carried out of the Park to his Coach, where he in Person attended.  
This Violence extremely troubled the Lady, who (tho' Birthold threw himself at her Feet, and begged Pardon for so great a rudeness, yet) being of an haughty Temper, and proud Spirit, resolved to Chastise him severely for it. Birthold endeavoured to pacify her with all the most humble submissions he could make; and with smooth and passionate Language, alloy the Storm he had raised, but all his Rhetoric was in vain; when considering this was no place for a long Parle, and the present posture of his Affairs requiring his presence, he committed her to the Care and Fidelity of his Kinsman, to carry her a private way to his Castle, whilst he returned to his Soldiers, who were now ready to mutiny in his Absence. Birthold having appeased his Army, committed the Conduct of it to Braganti, his Lieutenant General, and posted away cross the Country to make a Visit to his Mistress; but on the way he met his Kinsman wounded, who presently recounted to him the sad disaster he had met with. That his Mistress was forced from him by a Troop of Horse, they had met withal on the way, who upon the Lady's Shrieks and Cries, rescued her from them, notwithstanding all the Resistance they could make; in which Conflict himself was wounded and several of his Men killed. This News afflcted him beyond measure; but seeing no Remedy, he returned to his Camp, full of Grief and Vexation.  
The Rape of the Lady Anne being made known to the Duke, and the Earl her Father, they were extremely troubled at it, and immediately caused the Ravishers to be pursued by some of his Troops, who after three days Search, understood she was brought back to the Castle by one Captain Conrade; upon which they made a speedy Return. The Earl was exceeding Joyful at the Recovery of his Daughter, and understanding by her, That Captain Conrade (whom they accidentally met, marching with his Troop for the Emperor's Service in Hungary) had delivered her, and safely brought her home, was returned to his Troop, without his Thanks or Reward; according to his Noble Disposition, sent to invite him to his Castle, that he might make some Acknowledgements for the great Service they had done him, and lest they should not prevail with him, caused the Lady Anne to send him a fair Diamond Ring to wear for her sake, and he himself sent him the best Horse in his Stable, with Furniture richly Embroidered. But they needed not thus to have presented Conrade, for this Young Lady had already given gim her Heart, from whom she parted with much regret.  
The late Affront of the Lord of Zeringen, and the Generous Gallantry of Conrade, had now planted her fickle and wand'ring Heart in the Captain's Breast, whom she expected with impatience. But Conrade Excused himself by a Gentleman, That he was upon Duty, and in all haste going to the place of Rendezvous, returned his Thanks to the Earl for the Civility offered him, and the Noble Presents he had received, with his Service and humble Respects to the Lady, Assuring her he would wear the Ring the longest Day of his Life, which should be devoted to her Service.  
The Young Lady was very much discontented when she saw the Captain did not return, as she had Flattered herself he would, her troubled Breast was wrecked with Hopes and Fears, and great was the Conflict between Love and Honour: The handsome Proportion, sweet Countenance, Genteel Behaviour, Courtly Speeches, and the Noble Courage of Conrade, obliged her to think him the most complete Gentleman she had ever seen; but the Pride that attends on Great Persons, and often deters them from falling meanly under their Passions, began to settle hers, and calm the ruffl●s of her Mind into a serene and 〈◊〉 Temper. But the Contest was again renewed, and Love gained the Victory: whereupon she writ this following Letter, which she returned by his Messenger, unknown to any but her Confident Mariana.  
To my Deliverer, Captain Conrade.  
THE Service you have done me does Challenge a far greater Acknowledgement than lies in my Power to give you, and I hope will Excuse me if I say something to you Kind and Extravagant. I have no other way to requite your Civilities but to tell you what Power they have over a Soul so sensible as mine is, and it is your own fault that you have not more Acceptable Proofs of my Love and Affection to you. Since you are going to the Wars, perhaps I may never be put to the blush by seeing you again; but pray remember as you have set my Body free, you have made my Heart your Captive, whilst I am  
Anne of Werdenberg.  
The Captain having received this Letter, admired the Lady's Kindness and Gratitude to him, the unexpected Encouragement to obtain her Love, advanced his hopes of Success, and he resolved to leave his Troop to Court her; but considering the great disparity between their Fortunes and Qualities, and the difficulty of gaining a Lady not at her own disposal, he presently returned this Letter by the same Messenger.  
To my Conqueror, the Fair Lady Anne.  
I Acknowledge Madam that you are my Conqueror, and I am your Slave, but I h●pe never to be Ransomed or Exchanged, but to wear out my Life in so grateful a Bondage. The sense of my own humble Condition forbids me to lift up my Eyes to my Adored Mistress, unless raised above my own pitch by the purchase of Honour, which I will seek with the hazard of my Life, That my Head may be encompassed with Laurels to preserve me from being blasted by the Angry Lightning of your Eyes, for my Confidence and Presumption. Madam I humbly beg Pardon for your Affectionate Slave▪  
Conrade.  
The Lady received this Letter, and read it a thousand times, fancied new Charms▪ and fresh pleasures in every line; sometimes she would call him Cruel and Ungrateful, and then Excusing him, would blame herself, and resolve to be Constant to his Love. Mariana seeing her Extravagancy pitied her very much, and tried all ways to divert her, and renew her Old Flame for Birthold, but in vain. She was so incensed against him for his late rude behaviour, that the Pride of her Mind, but more the Love of Conrade, excluded all hopes of Reconciliation.  
In the mean time the Lord Birthold was very much distressed by his Enemies, and though he was much troubled for the Loss of his Land, he was more afflicted for that of his Mistress, the first he had hopes to recover, but the other he feared was lost for ever. He wrote to her, sent Messengers, but could obtain no Answer, but from Mariana, who gave him more reason to despair than hope of success. In the Interim the Duke and the Earl her Father, were agreed in all points relating to the Marriage, and she being now become indifferent, as to the Duke, did not much oppose it: whereupon, soon after, it was pompously Solemnised, and the Young Duchess conducted to his Palace at Ulme, where she was received with Feasts, Balls, Plays, and all the Honourable Expressions of public Mirth and Joy. Captain Conrade, notwithstanding all this, still preserved his Image in the Breast of the Duchess, which had made so deep an Impression, that in the midst of all those Diversions, she still sighed and languished after him.  
It happened as she was si●ting one day to see some Public Games, her Eyes roving up and down, she thought she espied among the Crowd, her beloved Captain, all the Features of his Face were so like and agreeable, That she resolved it must be the same, and could not possibly be any other: Mariana being near her, she whispered her in the Ear, and directed her Eye to the same object, who immediately concluded with her, That Gentleman she then saw, was the real Captain Conrade; but they wondered much to see him in so mean a Garb, and not in the Habit of a Soldier, which they supposed he made use of for a Disguise; and when they observed him so intent on the Sports, that he seldom cast his Eyes on the Duchess, or if he did, with such Indifferency, that showed nothing of Love or Passion, they were more concerned at his 'Slight and Neglect. This Sight raised so violent a Transport in the Soul of the New-Married Duchess, that she could not contain herself from charging Mariana to set some body to watch him to his Lodging, and that she should privately Inquire of him his Design of coming thither in that Garb and Disguise. Mariana in obedience to the Commands of the Duchess, set one of the Servants belonging to her Train to watch him to his Lodging, and there Acquaint him that she desired to speak with him at the Palace, whither he was privately to conduct him. The Man obeyed his Orders punctually, and the Young Gentleman received the Message with Wonder and Amazement, protesting that Mariana was utterly unknown to him; however at the Entreaty of the Messenger he went along; and being introduced into a private Lobby, Mariana came to him, and looking full in his Face, Captain (says she) what makes you here thus disguised? The Duchess owes too much to your Generosity and Valour, not to take Notice of her Deliverer. The Gentleman looked strange upon her, as one he had never seen before, which made Mariana stop, and Ark him if he was not Captain Conrade? the Gentleman answered No, but that he was his own Brother, and a Twin, and so like him, that not only Strangers but their own Parents could not distinguish them, but by a Red Mole under the Right Pap, which his Brother had, that his Name was Philip, born at Villengen, and Elder by four Minutes.  
Mariana seeing his Speech, Carriage, Proportion, Face, Hair, Smiles, and Actions so very like, would not believe one word he said, but taking all for Fiction pressed him to let her know his Intentions of being there, and whither he had already forsaken his Mistress Honour, for whom he had lost a Young and Obliging Lady, to her great Grief and Trouble. Philip seeing the Incredulity of Mariana, smiled at her Error, but it not being the first time by many he had been mistaken for his Brother, it was no great Surprise to him; Mariana still urged he was the same Person, whilst Philip with many Oaths and Asseverations endeavoured to confirm the Truth of what he had said, and that he came over only to see the public Sports, and the Entrance of the Duke and Duchess, and to morrow intended to return to Villengen, unless she or the Duchess had any Commands to the contrary. Mariana went presently to Inform the Duchess of what he had said, and desired him to wait in the Lobby till her Return.  
About an hour after Mariana returns with the Duchess who was amazed to see the Captain she loved, deny himself, for both her Eyes and Ears told her it was he and no other. Captain (said she) the Obligation I have to you, may Excuse this strangeness, but after the Letter I sent you, and that I received from you, I cannot but wonder you should call yourself Philip, and make so strange of a Business I would have esteemed more serious; and therefore pray tell me why you thus disguise yourself, and what your pretensions are? Madam, replied the Gentleman, I desire not to deceive a Person of your Quality, and I do swear by all that's Sacred, I am not Captain Conrade, but his Brother Philip, that I came hither only out of Curiosity, and shall return to morrow, unless for my Brother's sake, who I perceive has done you some considerable Service▪ you will be pleased to entertain me amongst your Followers. The Duchess looked somewhat amazedly, and her Eyes told her she could not believe him, his desire of being retained about her made her conclude he was no other than Conrade, whom her Letter and his Love had brought back to serve her. This thought pleased her, and she told him he should Attend her the next day, and in the mean time she would speak to the Duke to Entertain him amongst his Domestics for his Brother's sake, if he were not the same she took him for, which she still doubted.  
But it is too true, the Duchess is deceived, Mariana is deceived, and all the World who had seen the one, would have been deceived by the other; This was one of the Fantastics of Nature, or one of her Rarities which she seldom makes, in this she had imitated Conrade so exactly, that he was not to be known from Philip, nor Philip from him, she had formed them in the same Moulds in the dark Cell of the Womb, that it was not possible for the Eye to distinguish them, and lest she should mistake herself, had only differenced Conrade by a private Mark. But how like soever their Bodies were, their Souls were as different; Conrade had a Noble Generous Soul, full of Life and Valour, Philip (though the Eldest) was Covetous, Sordid and Cowardly: besides these internal marks of difference, Time and Accident had caused one notable distinction, which not being known to many, was kept a Secret, and being in those parts of the Body which common Modesty obliges us to conceal, was not discoverable. Philip in his Younger Years climbing up a high Pear-Tree, the Bough broke, and he fell so unluckily that a Stump of the Tree stuck between his Legs, which so bruised those parts, that they gangreend and were cut clean off, so that Philip was a Capon, and as true an Eunuch as any the Turk had in his whole Seraglio. This was a Secret which shame caused to be concealed, Eunuches being accounted Monsters in that part of the World where they are not seen every day, or do not Govern Provinces, or Command Armies.  
The Duchess was not yet convinced, but this was her real Conrade, however he was pleased to assume the Name and Person of Philip, and accordingly so represented him to the Duke, that the Brother of that Captain who had so bravely rescued her from the hands of her Ravishers was now in the City, and had Petitioned her in consideration of his Brother's Service, to be admitted one of her Domestics: The Duke glad of an Opportunity to be grateful, and please his New Duchess, whom he passionately Loved, ordered him to be entertained in the place of one of the Gentlemen of his Chamber, to the great content of Philip, and satisfaction of the Duchess. The Duchess for some time remained very reserved, expecting this Phillp, or disguised Conrade, should make his Addresses to her, but observing in him so great Indifference, she was not a little Amazed and Perplexed at it. To be better informed she sent privately to Villengen, and was there satisfied that this was not Conrade but Philip his Brother, However as she had before been Enamoured on the Comely Shape, and Graceful Deportment of Conrade, she could not be said to change the Object of her Love in Philip, who was so like him in all outward appearance, as one drop of water to another, which occasioned the same Sentiments of Mind, and Lustful Desires for Philip, as She before had for Conrade. She knew that Conrade was gone to the Wars, and his return uncertain, but here she beheld, and had in her power the same Person with a different Name only; and thought it the greatest Folly imaginable to sigh for one that was absent, and forego the same present; to die for the shadow, when she might freely enjoy the substance. The Duchess discovered the secret Passion of her Heart to Mariana, bribed her with Gold, and did all that a Flattering Mistress is capable of, to subvert the Honesty and Integrity of a Servant, and make her Faithful to her; Mariana readily understood what the Duchess meant, and with pity to the poor forsaken Birthold, unwillingly paid Obedience to her unlawful Commands.  
The Duchess took all Opportunities of showing kindness to Philip, and with her Eyes and Actions spoke the hidden Passions of her Heart; but all her Favours and Caresses were thrown away on this dull and frozen Statue, his incapacity for Love had chilled his Blood, and made him cold and reserved; all her smiles were lost upon him, and for those many marks of her Esteem, he only returned low Cringes and diligent submissions. The Duchess was vexed and angry at his dulness and stupidity, or fear and modesty, not being able to distinguish which was the true reason of so great reservedness. Great Persons love to be understood at first sight, with a word and a beck, and it is better to be too forward and mistake their intentions, than too backward, and not understand their desires.  
At this time the great success of Birthold caused the Duke to go into the Field himself, with those New Forces he had raised for the Assistance of the Earl of Werdenberg, and with much regret he parted from the Duchess, laying a particular Command on Philip to be diligent in his Attendance on her, and to certify him continually of her Health, of which Honour he was not a little proud. The Duke being thus departed with his Army, the Duchess, with Mariana, Philip, and some few other Servants, went to her Castle of Blaford, a League from ulme, where she designed to divert herself with Hunting for two or three days, and then return to ulme. Here she resolved to lay the Scene of her Amorous Design, and contrive every thing so cunningly, that the most searching Eye should not be able to find a flaw in her Honour. The second Night after her Arrival, having before ordered Philip to be Lodged in a Chamber remote from the rest of the Servants, to which there was a private Gallery, which led from her Apartment, about Midnight her unruly Love having kept her waking, she arose out of her Bed, and (giving Mariana strict charge not to stir) flung over her a light Silk Mantle, richly Embroidered, her Head was curiously dressed, as on her Bridal Night, then putting on a pair of Velvet Slippers, she took the white Wax Taper burning in her Chamber in a Silver Candlestick, in one Hand, and a Dagger in the other, and in this posture left her Chamber, and through the private Gallery conveyed herself to Philip's.  
This Apparition in the middle of the Night (as sweet and tempting as this lovely and lustful Duchess seemed to be) struck the Amazed Philip with horror and consternation, not knowing whether it was the bright Vision of some Angelical Phantasm, or some sportive Devil in the Counterfeit Shape of a Glorious Spirit, his little Acquaintance with either, gave him sufficient Argument for his present Fears. Philip lay trembling in his Bed, which the Duchess approached and holding the Dagger towards his Breast, thus expressed herself. The many Favours I have shown, are the manifest tokens of my Affection to you, and which have been received with too much 'Slight and Neglect; you either disdain my Love, or are so stupid not to understand my Passion, either of which is alike dangerous to my Repose, and your Life. I have in this manner Appeared to you, as you see, to discover the Violence of my Love, and intrust my Honour with you: you have no other way to choose, but to Answer my Desires, or die by my hands, this poisoned Dagger shall Sacrifice you to my Fury, if you deny to be an Offering to my Love. This was a pretty way of Courtship indeed, but this Lady was none of those who desired to be Adored and Sighed for, to be Worshipped as a Saint, or Respected as a Vestal: Hers was not Fantastic or Platonic Love, placed only in Shadows and respectful Ceremonies, her Flames were to be quenched, and Desires satisfied with Secrecy and Expedition.  
Philip opened his Mouth, and fixing his Eyes on the Amiable yet Terrible Object, spoke something so confusedly and abruptly, that the Duchess soon perceived the Affright she had put her Lover in, had in some measure debarred her of the Satisfaction she expected, and to allay those fearful Spirits she had raised, endeavoured to rectify the Error she had committed, by smoothing her Brow, and putting on her Sweetest and most Charming Looks: She Armed her Eyes with a softer Fire, her Countenance on a sudden became Serene and Amorous, Inviting Smiles dispelled the frowns of her contracted Brow. She laid aside the Weapon in her Hand, and made use of none but Rays of Light, which shot themselves into the Soul of Philip like so many Daggers, for he trembled to see what would have rejoiced another Man. She set down the Taper, and disrobing herself into the Glories of a Naked Goddess, lifted up the clothes and laid herself down by him, saying; Thus will I Charm your Fears, thus will I Court your Love: I have laid by my Thunder and Lightning, and imagine me no longer the Duchess of ulme your Mistress, but your Lover, and one that Expects to give and take a Felicity, Princes would not refuse. Philip was getting out on the other side of the Bed, when she laid her Arm over him, warm enough to melt the most snowy Chastity; What (said she) do you fly me? am I a Person after all this to be refused? then resetling her disturbed spirits, and gently drawing him towards her, she began to smother him with Kisses, whilst he like a trembling Partridge under the Pounces of an Hawk made some faint struggle to get from her Embraces, and assoon as he could have Liberty from the Kisses she loaded him with, Cried out, Ah Madam! I am not able to perform what you expect from me, I must Confess I am no Man, and that it is impossible for me to give you the Satisfaction you desire.  
The Duchess was so Confounded at these words, that she let go her Arms from their Embrace, and rising half way out of Bed, thought he had been a Woman, but discovering the contrary by his Breasts, which were bare, she thought he only said so to deceive her, when presently the Colour flushing into her Cheeks, and a fierceness mounting into her Eyes, she began to grow terrible to Philip, who leaping out flung himself on his Knees by the Bed side, and with many Oaths and Asseverations related his Misfortune to her.  
It is impossible to speak the Confusion this disappointed Lady was in, her Eyes were fierce and sparkling with Shame and Anger, and transported with Rage she flew to her Dagger, which Philip being aware of, ran to the Table where his Sword lay, and put himself into a Posture of Defence, whilst she seeing herself thus defeated of her Pleasure, and prevented in her Revenge, looked like a distracted Fury, all her lovely Charms grew terrible and frightful. Whether it be true or false (said the enraged Duchess) That you have told me, or whether thou art impotent or Virtuous, 'tis not much matter, for thou shalt die for my mistake. But Philip had no mind to be killed, and kept her off with the point of his Sword, assuring her with a Thousand Oaths and Imprecations of the Truth of what he said; told her more fully his Misfortune, promised and vowed Eternal Secrecy, that no Person in the World should ever know one syllable of this Action, that he himself would endeavour to forget it, and believe it only a Dream or Vision, provided she did no ways hereafter attempt his Life; But if he should happen to fall by her Malice, as he easily might, he would leave this Night's Transactions, under his Hand and Seal, with an Intimate Friend, who after Death would deliver it to the Duke, and that if he might live secure, he would be secret, silent, and faithful, her Shame should be hid, and her Honour safe.  
The Duchess saw no other Remedy, but without Reply threw her Mantle about her, slipped on her Pantofles, took up the Candle, and left Philip not a little glad that he was so easily rid of this Amiable Fury. Mariana saw her Lady return, but with such marks of Disturbance in her Looks, Confusion in her Eyes, and Shame in her Cheeks, that she wondered what could be the Cause of so great a Disturbance. The next day the Duchess feigned herself Sick, caused her Coach to be made ready, and returned to ulme, writing Dispatches to the Duke, wherein she told him (with the greatest Art of Feminine Cunning and Collogueing) how much she suffered by his Absence, who like the Flower of the Sun must droop till his Return, and wither like the Female Palm in the Absence of the Male. These Let●ers were ordered to be sent by Philip, who was pleased with the Command, and so Easy a Removal from the sight of the incensed Duchess. All this Mariana saw and wondered at, till the Duchess one Evening in her Closet acquainted her with the odd Circumstances of her Love, and her more strange disappointment.  
The Duke received the kind Letters of the Duchess, and was not a little satisfied with her Love and Care, and after he had put his Affairs in a good posture, returned Post to ulme, to the Embraces of his Lady. Philip came along with the Duke, but kept himself as much out of her Presence as he could, who never beheld him but with Shame and Confusion, and that very Object, which before had been so pleasant in her Eyes, was now as monstrous and hateful, Malice and Revenge succeeded her Love in as great a degree, and considering her Honour and Life were entrusted to his keeping, she resolved neither could be safe as long as he lived, and having in vain endeavoured by several Artifices to remove him from the Duke, she Consulted with Mariana what was to be done in so difficult a Case, who agreed to send him into another World, which could only secure his Silence. To this End, jeranto the Cook was hi●ed by a Purse of Gold, to Poison him in a Mess of Broth, which he soon after effected; But his Germane simplicity not being so well versed in that Damnable Art, as the Spaniard or Italian, the Poison wrought so violently it discovered itself too soon, and by the great Care and Skill of the Duke's Physicians, the Danger was prevented. He presently imagined it came from the implacable Hatred of the Duchess, and resolved to be Revenged of her before he Died: whereupon he sent for the Duke, and having made all Persons avoid the Room, Acquainted him with the Visit the Duchess had given him, with all the particular Circumstances of it, and fully informed him of the reason of her Malice and his Empoisoning.  
The Duke was like one Thunderstruck with this Relation, and having considered the several parts of it, began to question whether Philip was not distracted by his Distemper, but having heard him confirm it with many Oaths and Imprecations, expecting every moment to die; Trouble and Grief succeeded his Wonder and Astonishment, and Jealousy and Rage followed after. He stayed some time to compose himself, and charged Philip, To let no other know of his Dishonour; telling him, if he died he would revenge his Death, and if he lived, reward his Fidelity. Philip being young and lusty, Nature at last (by the help of powerful Medicines,) or'ecame the Poison, and he recovered with the loss only of his Hair and Nails. The Duke in the mean time smothered his Trouble all he could, from the piercing Eye of the Duchess, and when Philip was recovered carried him one day into her Chamber, and making all others but Mariana to quit the Room, caused him to Accuse her Face to Face.  
The Duchess seemed not much moved, but took it as if the Duke had been in Jest with her, at which he grew so enraged, he flatly charged her with the Crime, calling her Impudent Strumpet, she appearing as Angry and High, peremptorily denied it, and told him, She would have satisfaction for so base an Abuse put upon her: She Vindicated herself from all that Philip had said▪ and with so many Asseverations justified her Innocency, that the Duke stood Amazed, not knowing which to Credit. The Subtle Lady perceiving the Duke's mind wavering, fell on her Knees and Craved Justice against that perjured Villain Philip; who now saw his own Folly and Danger, in Accusing the Duchess without any other Witness to corroborate his Evidence. The Duke was very much perplexed with this matter, and knowing the Duchess had not actually defiled his bed, but intentionally only, if that was true she was Accused of, and that probably Philip's Impotency rather than his Virtue, or a due regard to his Honour, had kept him chaste; by many good words endeavoured to pacify the Duchess, and reconcile her to Philip, whom he still continued in his Service.  
However the Duke seemed to dissemble the Trouble of his mind, Philip still standing firm in his Accusation, Jealousy began to prevail upon his Soul, and embitter all his Thoughts: He grew Melancholy and Churlish, and she so proud and disdainful, that an apparent breach was made between them; she Cursed her Marriage, and the time she forsook Birthold, the Kind and Loving Birthold. This Mariana took notice of, and acquainted Birthold with the Discontents of the Duchess, who diligently by Letters addressed himself to her, from whom he received this Answer.  
To the Lord of Zeringen.  
BIrthold; If I have yet any Command over your Soul, as you say I have, than you must not die; but preserve a Life that is precious to me, and may yet be serviceable to redeem me from Misery. Time may alter both our Fortunes, and your Constancy may be Rewarded by  
Anne Vlme.  
Birthold being encouraged in his Love by the Amorous Letter of the Duchess, came over privately in Disguise to ulme, and by the Assistance of Mariana made frequent Visits to the Duchess, these interviews soon composed all former Differences, and entered 'em into a stricter League than ever. What mutual kindnesses passed between them at that time, I never yet could learn, But it is very likely, as we may judge by the sequel of their Actions, such unscrupulous Lovers made use of Opportunity. Birthold at last proposed to her to leave the Duke her Husband, and go along with him, which she consenting to, packed up all her Jewels and other things of value, and one Evening with Mariana walked out to the side of the River Danow which runs by the Walls of ulme, where Birthold waited her coming, and with a Boat of six Oars, carried them over the River, and in his Coach conveyed them safe to his Castle. The Duke soon heard where the Duchess was, and Acquainted the Earl her Father with the Treachery and Infidelity of his Daughter, who were both so enraged at the Injury and disgrace, that they immediately raised all the Forces they were able to make, and mutually vowed a Revenge. So great Success attended the Justice of their Cause, that Birthold was totally routed in the Field, and forced to take Refuge in his Castle, where the Duchess was, which two days after was surrounded by the Duke's Army; Birthold having done all that a Valiant man could do in defence of the Place, resolved not to be taken Alive and become the Scorn of the Victors▪ but thrust himself into the midst of his Enemies, and died bravely with his Sword in his Hand. The Duchess had not the heart to fly to a voluntary Death, though she resisted her Fate all she could, and was taken with Arms in her fair Hands, encouraging the Soldiers with her Words and Actions. Being taken and brought before her Husband and Father, the Earl would have run her thorough with his own hand, but was hindered by the Duke, who desired her punishment might be left to him, against whom she had more grievously offended, who resolved not to chastise her by death, but to give her a Life, tho' full of pain and misery, by which she might have time to Repent of her Crimes, and save her Soul.  
The Duke sent away the Duchess, and the dead Body of Birthold, with a strong Guard to his Castle at Blaford, and having finished the Campaign, and restored the Country to Peace, returned to ulme with Honour and Victory. The Duke being resolved now to punish his Adulterous Duchess, ordered Mariana to be taken from her, and being Chastised as a Confederate in her Crimes, was banished his Terrritories. The Duchess was then put into a Room where no Light of Day or Sunshine could ever enter, in which he 〈◊〉 a Bed to be set up, and the Room hung with Black, with a Lamp continually burning in the midst of it, a little Table was placed by her Bedside, with a Prayer-Book, the Picture of a beautiful Lady embracing a Knight on the one side, and the same Knight and Lady tormented by Devils on the other side of the Chamber, as Objects to remember her of her Crimes, and promote her Repentance. This was the Furniture of the Room; and to abate the heat of her Lust, he gave strict Charge that three times a Week she should have nothing but Bread and Water, and at other times a spare Diet. He allowed her no other Cup to drink in but the Skull of Birthold, which he had caused purposely to be made into a Cup, and tipped it round with Silver, nor no other Carpet on her Table but his Skin, which was flayed off and dressed for that purpose, strictly Commanding, That no Person in the world should be permitted to see or speak to her, except a Priest, who was ordered to Confess her once a month: Care was also taken, that she should have no Knife, or any thing else whereby she might hurt herself, and that he might be sure to have all this punctually performed, and she not able to Corrupt her Keeper, he gave the Command of the Castle to Philip, and made him her Keeper, strictly Charging him, that no Person should be suffered to see or speak with her, but himself, and the Priest he should send with a Warrant under his Hand and Seal. Philip who had no good will to this Lady, undertook the Charge not unwillingly, resolving to observe his Lord's Directions very punctually, believing them to be as Just as Severe, 〈◊〉 good for the Soul of the Adulterous Duchess.  
In this manner lived the Duchess for the space of three years, never seeing the Face of any but Philip and the Priest her Confessor, whilst the Duke lived Loose and Luxuriously, Wantonised in all manner of Unlawful Pleasures and Lustful desires, there was hardly a Handsome Virgin in ulme that he did not betra●, nor a Beautiful Woman that he did not corrupt; His Palace was now become a mere Seraglio, and his Court a more Honourable Stews. In the mean time Captain Conrade (a Truce being made between the Christians and Turks) returned to Vienna, and from thence with the Emperor's leave to his own Country, full of Glory and Renown, to visit his Friends and Relations, till the End of the Truce should call him again to Action. Being come to Villengen he soon understood his Brother's preferment under the Duke of ulme, the various Fortune of the Duchess, her Imprisonment in the Castle of Blaford, where his Brother was Constable, and all other Circumstances that Fame or Common report could inform him of. Conrade finding the powerful Image of this lovely Lady yet fresh in his mind, with all those Charms she overcame him with, when he released her from her Ravishers, and remembering her kind Letters and Amorous Expressions, found he had a great desire to see her, Notwithstanding the Change of her Condition, which he might easily effect by the means of his Brother who was her Keeper. He therefore privately and without any attendance, went over to Blaford, and staying at a house in a little Village near the Castle, sent a Messenger with a Note to his Brother to acquaint him he desired to see him, but without any Company for some reasons he should afterwards understand; Philip could not but wonder at the Secrecy and Caution that he used in his Visit; but however observed his directions and went immediately over to him. The Ceremony of their mutual respects bring over, Conrade conjured Philip to hearken to his Request and told him the passionate desire he had to see the Duchess, which he might easily accomplish by changing clothes with him, they being so alike that nothing but the difference of their habits distinguished them. Philip a long time endeavoured to dissuade him from it, urging the danger and hazard of the Attempt; but Love had blinded his Eyes and stopped his Ears to all Considerations, and the Importunity of Conrade at last prevailed with Philip, who changing clothes with him gave him full instructions of all the ways and Customs he used, and delivering him the Keys they embraced and parted. Philip accoutred with his Buff, Sword and Feathers, went back to Villengen instead of Conrade, and Conrade went to the Castle, where he was admitted by the Soldiers for Philip, without the least Suspicion or Mistrust. At the time accustomed he carried the Duchess her Allowance, whom he could not behold without Grief and Trouble, his Eyes were fixed on her Face, which he saw Pale and Wan, and much altered by that severity used to her, but yet that Tyranny had not robbed her of all her Beauty, and sweetness, the pleasing Air of her Face was yet preserved, though her Complexion was Faded, and even in that Languishment she carried Charms and Sorceries. The next day Conrade discovered himself to the Duchess in these words. Behold Madam here at your Feet no longer your jailor Philip, but your Adorer and Lover Conrade, who hath preserved your Image entire in his Heart, who bewails and pities your Misfortunes, and who now comes to offer you a Life which hath been preserved from so many dangers that it might redeem you from Captivity. Long it was before he could convince the Duchess that he was Conrade and not Philip, and seeing his Words and Actions had yet scarce gained Credit with her, he produced the Letter he had formerly received from her saying: This Madam I have kept as a precious Relic of your Affection, it is Penned by your own fair Hands, and your Eyes can Witness the Truth of what I say. The Duchess Viewing the Letter, was strangely surprised, for now she was assured he was Conrade and not Philip, and throwing her Arms about his Neck, in a Transport of Joy sunk down into his. Before they parted a Vowed League of Friendship 〈◊〉 between them, and Articles of a Polluted and Adulterous Love was S●aled; they are now become one, and united in Wickedness and the Amorous and passionate Conrade sufficiently satisfied the Lustful Duchess that he was not the Eunuch Philip, but her first beloved Conrade. He often offered to carry her from Ulme, which she refused, saying; she could be no where so secure, and that it added much to the sweetness of pleasure that she could in some measure revenge herself on her Cruel Husband, in the same place he had so grievously punished her.  
Philip being now desirous to return to his Command, left Villengen in Order to go to the Castle of Blaford, but the Duke met Philip upon the Road as he was riding out to take the Air, and stopped, and asked him where he had been, and how he came to leave the Castle of Blaford, and what was the reason he was thus Metamorphosed into a man of War? Philip was very much surprised, and looking strangely on the Duke as if he had never seen him before, I suppose Sir (says he) you are some Person of Quality by your Train, but I must tell you, you mistake me for my Brother Philip, who is Governor of the Castle of Blaford, whom I am now going to Visit, wh●se likeness to me often causes these mistakes. The Duke knew Philip durst not Jest with him, and seeing him in the Garb of a Soldier, remembered he had heard the Duchess some time speak of the great resemblance and likeness of the two Brothers, believed he was in an Error, and then told him that he was the Duke of ulme, and that he should go along with him that night, and the next day they would ride over to Blaford, where he would give himself the Satisfaction of so great a Curiosity. The Duke accordingly did so, and Conrade appeared to him in the habit of Philip and he in Conrade's, who were so much alike that the Duke and the whole Company were strangely amazed at it. The Duke returned to ulme, and Philip and Conrade stayed at Blaford, where Philip earnestly pr●st him to change his clothes and deliver up the Command of the Castle to him, for Fear any unhappy Accident should make a discovery of their persons, which would prove Fatal to them both; Conrade told Philip it was Impossible, but if he would go to Villengen and return two months after, he would then comply with his desire, which he accordingly did.  
Conrade and the Duchess enjoyed themselves in the unbounded pleasures of their Lust, and laughed at that Vengeance which was now ready to punish all their Lewdness and Debauchery, by a miserable and Tragical Catastrophe. The Duke began now to think afresh on the likeness of the Two Brothers, and how easily he might be deceived if they should agree together that Conrade should be the Keeper of his Duchess instead of the Eunuch Philip. He knew the Service that Conrade had done the Duchess formerly, and some had told him that his Actions expressed more of Love than Civility: Evil men have Evil thoughts, and they measure other men's Actions by their own. For this reason the next Night he went privately over to the Castle, attended only with Four of his Gentlemen, resolving to satisfy himself whether it was Philip or Conrade, who had now the command of the Castle, and the keeping of the Duchess. The Warders and Soldiers of the Gate knew the Duke and admitted him, wondering at his coming, who went directly to Philip's Apartment, thinking to surprise him in Bed, and there to satisfy himself but not finding him, his suspicion increased, and he we●● directly to the door of the Duchess her Cell, which he found Locked, and harkening at it, he heard the Duchess' voice and that of a Man discoursing with her. Conrade who usually visited the Duchess at Nights, and spent the most part of it in her Company, was now there and in the raptures of his Lustful pleasures. The Duke knocked loud at the door, which very much surprised Conrade and the Duchess, who immedialy opening of it, saw the Duke with anger and Fury in his Face, whereupon he flew ●o his Sword that lay upon the Table, and laid two of the Foremost dead at his Feet, whereupon the Duke presently Concluded by his bold and manly Courage he was not Philip but Conrade, which so far enraged him, that he advanced himself against this Lion Conrade, from whom he received so home a Thrust that his Sword passing through his Ribs, appeared a handful behind his Back, but at the same Instant one of the Guard struck Conrade o'er his Head with a Pole-ax, so deep that his Brains came out, and he fell at the same time with the Duke dead at his Feet. The Duke being yet not quite dead commanded them to search Conrade, and finding him to be no Eunuch, and consequently not Philip, commanded him to dispatch the Duchess that he might have the satisfaction of seeing her punished before he died, upon which one of the Guard sheathed his Sword in her fair Breast, as she sat on the side of the Bed amazed and astonished at the suddenness of this Misfortune, the Duchess fell backwards upon the Bed and died, and the Duke presently after expired who lived only to see her punished Thus their three Souls fled away at one moment; but whether they kept pace together, or how separated in the vast abyss of Eternity, is not our business to inquire, but their dead Bodies remained a sad spectacle of Divine Vengeance against the horrid Sin of Adultery.  This was the Sad and Lamentable Conclusion of the Adulterous Duchess, who had she been as Eminent in Chastity, as she was Infamously Incontinent, might have lived the Glorious Pattern of Virtue, as she died the shameful Example of Sin and Misery.  

HIST. IX. Juderina, or the Dutch-Adultress.  
Juderina commits Fornication with Walter, is got with Child, and afterwards turns Whore at Amsterdam. Is there kept by mine Heer Vandrecht, proves false to him, and commits Adultery with Captain Grantzford, who is killed by Vandrecht, and he drowned in his Escape. She afterwards Marries Titus a Puritan, breaks her Husband by her Riotous Expense, he in Revenge gives her the Foul Disease, which she first communicates to a Quaker, and then dies miserably of the beforementioned Distemper.  
JVderina was born of poor and honest Parents, in a little Village near Rotterdam, and being now arrived to Twelve Years of Age, was entertained by Emantha an Ancient Lady and a Widow, who was reputed very Rich, and for that reason was Courted by several Gentlemen, who more valued her for the Reputation of her Fortune, than they admired the ruins of her Beauty. Amongst others who made suit to the Widow, a Gentleman known by the name of Captain Grantzford, was one, who though he had no Assurance of obtaining her, had yet more Encouragement than the rest, being always Civilly treated, and greatly respected. juderina who was a Person of a ready and subtle wit, soon learned to Sing and Dance exactly, Emantha having preferred her to wait on her Daughter Editha, by whose favour, and the opportunities of her Attendance on her, she gained all the Accomplishments befitting a Person of greater Quality: to all which, Nature added a larger share of Beauty than is commonly seen in Maids of her mean Rank and Family. Captain Grantzford no sooner saw the fair juderina but he fell desperately in Love with her, and juderina was no less pleased with the Captain's Courtship, which Emantha observing, he soon lost all hopes of obtaining the Widow, however the satisfaction of enjoying his Lustful Pleasures with juderina, made some amends, which every day advanced by the seeming Compliance of the Wench.  
At this time Young Walter her Son returned from the University of Leyden, to Visit his Mother, and Sister Editha, whose presence very much obstructed the Amorous proceedings of the Captain, who at first sight was deeply in Love with juderina (whose Charms were not to be resisted) and quickly let her know the power of her Eyes, and the Conquest she had made. This proud Beauty gloried in her New Victory, and was not a little glad to see her Young Master at her Feet, fettered with her Charming Graces, whom she preferred to his Rival Grantzford, and at last yielded to his Embraces, who now Enjoyed at pleasure what the Captain's Evil Fortune still denied him. The Widow had been very Civil and Respectful to the Captain, notwithstanding his Folly, and as she had no Passion for him, so she had forsaken him without Mal●ce or Regret; however for fear he should debauch her Maid (which she very much suspected) she kept a strict Eye over juderina, whenever Captain Grantzford came to the House; little imagining that her Son had Robbed that Garden, and Cropped the Flower she had watched with so much Care and Vigilance. The Captain soon grew sensible of the double defeat he had received, in obtaining the Widow, and enjoying her Maid, for which reason he determined to try his Fortune with Editha, by whose Courteous and obliging Respects, he might promise himself better success: But her Person was not so Amiable, either to Enkindle Love, or inflame his Breast with Lust, juderina was the only Amorous and Tempting Object, but her Cruel Disdain had now forced him to Dispair.  
The Young Editha was full of Passion and Desire, and languished after the Unkind Captain, which at length she discovered to juderina, who presently told her that he was not ignorant of her Love, but heard her Sighs without the least Pity or Compassion, and as she could not expect her Mother would ever Consent to the Match if proposed to her, so she could assure her the Captains Affections would never be tied by the Sacred Bonds of Wedlock; but all his Passion was Lust, and his Love Dishonourable, which she sufficiently understood by his offers to herself, who Endeavoured nothing more than the lewd Satisfaction of his desires, which she had hitherto opposed with scorn and disdain. But yet she told her if she pleased to make an advantage of his Folly, she might both please her fancy and obtain him for a Husband if she would consent to put a Cheat upon him, which she might easily effect by her contrivance. Editha having heard the methods of her Design, approved them well, and desired her to put them in Practice upon the first Opportunity. The Plot being thus laid betwixt them, the cunning juderina seemed to hearken more willingly to the Courtship of Grantzford, she accepts his Gold, seems to believe his Oaths and Promises, and at the last overcome with his Flatteries to grant his Desires. There is nothing in the World so Joyful as the Captain really was at the Consent of juderina, the Content of his mind might be easily read in his Eyes, he kissed her a Thousand times, and gave her as many Thanks for what he is not like to obtain. The Assignation is made between them, and the Captain by Agreement to prevent all suspicion to take his present leave and return at Night by a back door of which she gave him the key which led to Iuderina's Chamber, where he should find her in Bed, but this was to be done with all silence and Secrecy, for fear of being over heard by Emantha who lodg' in the next Chamber. All this was agreed to, and the Captain parted with his Mistress, full of hopes and Satisfaction. Night came and young Editha supplied the place of juderina, obtained her desires and spent the Night in the Arms of Grantzford, who at the same time thought he had Embraced his Beautiful Mistress.  
In the Morning being about to depart, he was amazed to find his mistake, and hear the young Editha speak to him, instead of juderina, who held him fast in her A●ms, crying out, do not leave me now you have robbed and deflowered me; but much more when he saw young Walter enter the Chamber with a drawn Sword and a Parson with him, who told him (with an angry look,) Captain, either salve the Honour of an house which you have now wounded, by marrying my Sister, or receive the Just reward of Lust and Treachery, either make Editha your Wife, or satisfy me by your Death. The Captain would have risen from the Bed, and made his defence, but Walter set the point of his Sword to his Breast, and Swore he would Run him Through if he did not declare his immediate Consent, which he was forced to, and the Parson having done his Office, they left him and his Bride to their now Lawful pleasures; The Widow was amazed next morning at the Relation her Son gave her, of Editha's marriage with Grantzford, which she could not well credit, till a little time after they came to beg her Blessing; She considered it could not now be helped, and after some grave reprehensions accepted their Duty, and caused their private Marriage to be publicly celebrated.  
Some time after juderina found herself to be with Child, and Endeavoured to prevent her Shame and disgrace by taking such things as might cause Abortion but in Vain, her great Belly now discovered itself, and was known to the Widow, who too late found what a Viper she had Entertained in her Family, and what Injury she had done herself by that Wenches Beauty▪ who first caused her to lose Grantzford, and now had drawn away the Heart of her Son, and enticed him to Lewdness. But least these two foolish wantoness should marry together, and so utterly ruin the Fortune of her Son, she resolved to separate them, and accordingly sent him back to Leyden, and juderina over to Flanders to lay her great Belly, where not long after she was brought to bed of a Girl, and thus became a Mother before she was a Wife, and had a Child before she had got a Husband. juderina being recovered of her Lying In, the Child by order of the Widow the Grandmother, was taken from her and put to Nurse in those Parts, and she turned out of doors to seek her fortune, wi●h some small pittance of Silver, scarce enough to defray her Charges to Amsterdam, whither she extremely longed to go, hoping to get into some Service, or by making an Advantage of her Beauty, to inveigle some Tradesman to marry her. With this in●ent juderina went to Amsterdam, where she no sooner arrived, but she found her Money all spent, and herself in a most miserable and forlorn Condition. By great fortune she got a Lodging, which happened to be at a most Infamous and Notorious Bawdy house, where she behaved herself with so much Simplicity and seeming Innocency, told so fair a Story of her Misfortunes, without one word of Truth, That the Bawd her Landlady believed her, and under pretence of commiseration to her present Want, but more in hopes of making a good Market of her, kindly and comfortably relieved her.  
In a short time Iuderina's Beauty was famed, of which she knew how to make the best Advantage, and so well improved her Talon in those wicked Courses, that she had now considerably enriched herself by prostituting her long lost Maidenhead, to seven or eight wealthy Dutch Cullies, who all swore, and really believed they had it, for which they roundly paid. Having thus advanced her Fortune, and being unwilling to Expose herself longer in a place so infamous, she privately withdrew, and took Lodgings between the Stadt-house and Exchange, where she changed her Name to Angelica, and passed for a virtuous young Lady, whose Brother was a Merchant and suddenly Expected from the Indies. Not long after it happened that a Gentleman of good Fortune, called Mine Heer Vandretch, had some short repartees with Angelica under her Vizard at the Playhouse, who was so taken with her Wit, that he would not leave her till he had seen her Face, which appearing to him, beyond Expectation, handsome, he grew passionately in Love with her, and carried her home to her Lodging in his own Coach. Angelica had cunning enough not to be surprised with his first Offers of Kindness, nor altered with those rich and Noble presents he made her, which he wondering at, believed her Counterfeit Virtue was real, proposed a Cosiderable Settlement, a Stately House, Gilded Coach, and rich Liveries, if she would consent to live with him and be his Mistress, which she at last agreed to, rather out of passion and respect to his person, than that such generous Offers had any power over her Chaste and Innocent mind. She now goes abroad in her Chariot, sits in the Boxes at Plays, with all the bravery and Impudence of a Kept-Mistress, or more Notorious Strumpet.  
Being one day at the Playhouse, she was seen by Captain Grantzford (whom some business had brought to Town) who presently knew her, and much wondered to see that Beauty (which ever appeared to him with a more than ordinary Lustre) now so resplendent with Jewels, and all the dazzling Embellishments Art could invent. He could not but confess that she who before appeared a twinkling Star of Beauty, was now become an illuminated Sun, Bright and Glorious. The Captain made his Compliment to her, which she received with more favourable Expressions of respect to him, and in a Short time they became so intimate that he often visited her, where he was blest with those ravishing Delights he had so long Coveted in vain. This Amour of Grantzford with Angelica was at last suspected by Vandretch, who surprised him at the bottom of the Stairs, one Night as he had newly parted with Angelica, and with his Sword Ran him to the Heart, of which he immediately died. Vandretch sent for a Friend and acquainted him with his present misfortune, disposed the care of his House and Goods into his hands, disrobed Angelica of all her finery, turned her out of Doors and then made his Escape, but in his way to the Brill was unhappily drowned.  
Angelica having Saved a little money, put herself in a plain Country dress, removed to a remote place in the Town, where she took a Convenient Chamber and professed herself a Saint, going to all the private meetings she could hear of, where she Sighed, lifted up her Eyes, made Faces, was diligent at Lectures and Expounding, so that in a little time she began to be taken notice of, and attracted the Eyes of many a young Zealot and Amorous Puritan. She changed her Name to Mabella, though juderina and Angelica the Hypocrite were the same in Heart and mind as Mabella the Saint. At length the Piety and Devotion of Mabella was taken Notice of, as well as her Modesty and Beauty, by Titus a Young Brother, a Linen Draper, who was resolved not to Marry out of his own Tribe, and only wanted a Wife to make him Happy. She observed his Eyes to be often fixed upon her, and tho' he took Notes, and wrote in Characters none else could Read, he looked as if he had been drawing her Picture, he was so intent upon her. His Courtship was Sentences of Love and Cant intermixed, and Cupid and Knox were joined together: His Amorous Discourse was larded with fragments of Sermons, and Doctrines and Uses shuffled together, with Notes taken out of the Academy of Compliments. There was such a strange medley of Love and Religion, of Wooing and Praying, of pious Nonsense and smutty Courtship, that Mabella could not but laugh in her sleeve, how gravely and demurely soever she looked. Titus at last won the good will of his Dear Mabella, and what she much desired, they were privately Married, and she once again Mistress of an House.  
Mabella had not been long married before she began to patch and deck herself with Ribbons, and Titus to his great grief saw his Shop crowded with Gallants instead of Chap men, who came to Cheapen his Wife rather than Buy his Linen; he first reproved her immodesty himself, and then desired the Pastor to reprehend the Lewd Carriage of his Wife, but to no purpose: so that seeing himself undone, he resolved to shut up Shop and leave her to her Fortune. Mabella had yet scaped the Pox, that Ruin and Confusion of so many of Venus her Votaries; but as many have Escaped being wounded in a Battle who have been killed in a Skirmish, so fared it with Mabella, Titus plainly perceiving his Horns grew as fast as his Estate wasted, was resolved to be first Revenged, and then leave her. To this end he designedly got a severe Clap, which he communicated to Mabbella and then deserted her, carrying away all his Goods along with him to France. Mabella lay long Sick, and was twice Fluxed for her Foul Distemper; but wanting Money to carry on her Cure, was forced to consider of New Methods to relieve her presett Wants, before it was completed.  
Mabella was now again left to her shifts, her Expensive Clap, with the Apothecaries, Surgeons and Doctors Bills, had robbed her of all that little she had left, whereupon she resolved to change her Counterfeit Profession of Religion, from that of Puritan to Quaker, and accordingly took a private Lodging at a Quaker's House, who had known her Husband, and believed him to be as she represented him, a sly and debauched Fellow, pitied her very much, and by her discourse judged her to be very Innocent, and a Zealous Professor. To this Quaker's House resorted several of that Sect, and amongst the rest, one Simon an itinerant Holder Forth, who no sooner saw Mabella, who was pretty well recovered of her Clap, her Colour coming fresh into her Cheeks, and her Old wanton Flame into her Eyes, but the Carnal and Spiritual Man in him began to have a desperate Conflict. We are all Flesh and Blood, and the little god Cupid is no respecter of Sects; he spares no Mortal that is composed of those Atoms. Simon with the wont Boldness that attends that sort of People, made an Acquaintance with Mabella, who entertained him with a suitable Freedom, and whilst he endeavoured to delude her with his Holy Discourses, Of the Light within, and his Holy Inspiration, she cheated him as much with her Modest Looks. Mabella harkened to all his Canting very diligently, and in a short time began to reform her Dress, ripped off all her Laces, thr●w away her Ribbons, put on plain Coyfs and Pinner's, and laid aside all her Babylonish Trinkets.  
Simon overjoyed at this Conversion, carried Mabella to their Meetings, where she endured their Bawling without Laughter, and heard them Rant and Cant, and Rail and speak Nonsense, w●th much Devotion and Counterfeit Zeal. Few days missed she was not at their Meetings, and Mabella was become a very Professed, Rigid, and Unmannerly Quaker: Simon was now more in Love than ever, and having Converted her from the World, he determined next to convert her to himself. Mabella was pretty in all Dresses, and no disguise could hinder the power of her Beauty; But to Simon she seemed much more handsome since she was in the Habit of a Sister, and it was now Lawful for him to say that to her, he ought not to the Profane, and Wicked of the World. He therefore informed her of the Secrets of his Heart, and by what Spirit he was moved, and endeavoured to persuade her, That all things are Lawful to the Pure, That the World ought not to judge the Actions of the Righteous, That Defilement was from within, and the Impurity of the Mind only could contaminate the Body; That as for her Husband he was a Carnal Man, and it was no Sin to Rob an Egyptian, That if he was at this time under a Temptation, she ought to give way to his Frailty, for she had drawn his Desires after her: With such like Stuff, all to persuade her Fairly and plainly to Lie with him. Mabella soon perceived by the Light within, that it was either the Spirit of Love or Lust, that began to move the Carnal Man, however she Answered him so Cunninly and Obligingly, in his own Canting-way, still harping on her present Necessities, that he found the ready way to gain her was to supply her wants, which he plentifully did out of their Public Stock. With this Gold he opened the Heart of Mabella, and Simon and she had Theeed it any Thoved it so long, till they came to the Closest Conjunction, and mingled their Spiritual Embraces after a Carnal way. Simon obtained his End with advantage, for the Clap now breaking out, she severely Poxed him, and not daring to stay longer, for fear of being discovered, pillaged the Holy Brother of all the Charitable Corban he was entrusted with, and stole away to Rotterdam, where the Venom of her Distemper returning with greater Violence upon her, she died half eaten up with that Foul and Poisonous Disease.  Such is the ugliness of Sin, That the Devil himself is ashamed of his own Deformity, and often deceives us in the disguise of an Angel of Light: The Wicked Juderina counterfeits Modesty to conceal her Lewdness, and Religion to hide her Debaucheries: but Heaven in good time punishes her Cr●fty Vice, by the fruitful Offspring of her own Sins.  

HIST. X. Count Waldbourg and Bellanca.  
The Lord Moruffi is taken Prisoner by the Count of Waldbourg, and promised to be Released, if his Lady Bellanca would Consent to his Lust, which she by her Husband's Advice agrees to. The false Count having Enjoyed her, cuts off Moruffi's Head and gives it her. She complains to the King, who obliges him first to Marry her, and then causes him to be beheaded, and gives her his Estate. Bellanca is afterwards got with Child by a Black, she and Clora murder the Bastard. Bellanca stabs herself, and Clora is hanged.  
IN Gothland, the best and richest Province of Sweedland, which is the hinthermost part of Scandia next to Denmark, stands the Famous and Impregnable Castle of Colmar, of which Count Waldbourge was Governor, in the Third Year of the Reign of that August and Victorious Prince, Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden. At this time there were Bloody Wars between the Two Crowns of Sweden and Denmark, and the Lord of Moruffi Lieutenant General of the Danish Army, by the Command of the King, made a descent into Gothland with an Army of Thirty Thousand Horse and Foot, and having miserably ravaged the Country, at last sat down before the Castle of Colmar, which he straight Besieged. I shall say nothing of those many bold Assaults made by the Danes upon the place, nor the Stout resistance and Courage of the Swedes, brave and daring Actions were performed on both sides, the Soldiers at last growing very much distressed for want of provisions, the Besieged made a desperate Salley, in which they had the good Fortune to take the Lord of Moruffi Prisoner, whom they brought into the Castle and presented to the Governor. The Count of Polenzi General of the Swedish Forces, receiving an Account of the ill Condition the Castle of Colmar was in, made a speedy March with his Army for the Relief of it, which the Danes having notice of, and considering they had lost their General the Lord Moruffi, on whose Courage and Conduct they very much depended, they immediately raised the Siege and returned.  
The Virtuous and Beautiful Belanca upon the first Report that her Dear Lord was a Prisoner in the Castle of Colmar, was very much afflicted, but there being some overtures of a Truce then made between the Two Crowns, she hoped upon the Conclusion of it the Lord Moruffi would be discharged; but the Terms proposed not being agreed to, the War was renewed with greater Violence. Three months after a Cessation of Arms was Consented to, for a short time, and Belanca attended with some few of her Servants, having obtained a Passport from General Polenzi, took a Journey, full of hazard and danger, to the Castle of Colmar, to see her Beloved Lord and Husband. The Count of Waldbourge the Governor received her with all respect and kindness, who soon became an Earnest Suitor to him for the Release of Moruffi, offering all her Jewels and a very considerable Sum for his Ransom, which the Governor told her he could not comply withal without direct and positive Orders from the King. Belanca told him that would be a matter of great difficulty to Effect, till a Peace was Concluded, which was very uncertain, but if he pleased he might suffer him to Escape, for which she would make him the same generous Present; the Governor answered that was so great a piece of Treachery to his Prince, that in Honour he could never admit it. The Fidelity of this Noble Count which was not to be Corrupted by Gold, was soon Conquered by the more powerful Charms of Belanca's Beauty, whose Virtue after he had long and in vain solicited, he promised to free the Lord Moruffi his Prisoner, if she would Consent to his unchaste Desires, and upon no other Terms whatever: Belanca was very much surprised at his discourse, and told him, I wonder my Lord that you who have so great a Regard to your Honour (as you but now Expressed yourself) can have so little Esteem for your own Virtue, or my Chastity. Belanca would have proceeded but the Count interrupted her, saying, Madam I expect not your Advice but Consent, if my Lord Moruffi is so dear to you, you know upon what Terms you may gain his Freedom, which if you do not readily Comply with, I will prevent all his designs of Escape, by a Closer Confinement. Belanca desired leave till the next day to consider of it, and then promised to return her Answer, and having parted from the Count, acquainted her Husband with the Discourse which had passed between them, that she found the Count altogether inflexible, and unless she submitted to such dishonourable Terms should never be able to Obtain his Liberty upon any other.  
Moruffi was very unwilling to purchase his Freedom with the loss of his Honour; but his Restraint growing now more irksome and tedious to him, by the daily hopes of Liberty, he at last Advised his Lady to Consent to the Count's demand, tho' they were rigid and severe, adding, That since she was now in his power, he might possibly force her Virtue to a Surender upon worse Terms. Belanca, who was wholly at the Devotion of her Lord, whom she loved entirely, was with some regret at last prevailed upon by his Argument, assuring him, That she could at the same Instant, with greater Satisfaction, Sacrifice her Life for his Ransom, than prostitute her Honour. The False Count having now Satiated himself with the full Enjoyment of his Lustful pleasures, left Belanca in his Chamber, telling her, he would now go and give present orders for the Lord Moruffi 's discharge, desiring her ●o stay and expect him there: whereupon he commanded four of his Servants to go to the Lord Moruffi's Chamber, and bring his Head to him in that Embroidered Bag, which was accordingly done. The Count took the Bag in his own hands, and went to Belanca's Apartment, where she was with great Impatience expecting Moruffis, and told her, Madam, take there your beloved Husband, Belanca not understanding his meaning, opened the Bag, and there saw Moruffis Head fresh Bleeding, at which she Swoon away, and had not the diligent Attendance and Care of the Women, and the Excellent Virtues of the Cordials they gave her, forced her Soul unwillingly back to her hated body, she had immediately followed her Beloved Lord. Three days after the Count being acquainted that her passion was something abated, made a Visit to her, and by all the tender Expressions of Love and Affection, excused the late bloody Act he had been Guilty of, that having once tasted those ravishing delights, he not only resolved never to part with her, but could endure no Rival, and that not his Cruelty to Moruffi, but his Love to Belanca was the Occasion of it. The Count at last won so much upon her, that she seemed wholly to forget Moruffi, and with pleasure and delight wantoned in his Lustful Arms, till Three Months after, that Noble Prince Gustavus Adolphus being Encamped with his Army Ten Miles off, road over to his Castle of Colmar, to whom Belanca on her Knees related this horrible Cruelty of the Count to her Husband the Lord Moruffi, and Implored his Justice against him the King having understood the whole Intrigue of their Amours, asked her the next day what would Satisfy her for the loss she received in her Husband, and proposed a Match with the Count which should compensate the Injury she received. Belanca accepted of the King's proposal, and the Count was well pleased his Punishment was not more severe; whereupon they were Married in the King's presence, who told her, I have now in some measure Answered your Complaint, and now I will satisfy my own justice, and immediately ordered the Governor should be Beheaded, and gave her all his Estate.  
Belanca not long after removed to Stockholm, where her own native Beauty, and the Report of her great Riches, gained her many Suitors, and amongst those, Adrastus' second Son to the Duke of Helsinga, with a more particular Zeal, Admired and Courted her: Six Months were now past, since he had laid Siege to the Affections of Belanca, yet had not the least private Parley with her, which added more to the Esteem and Devotion he had for her. At last, upon the importunity of Prayers and Presents, one of her Gentlewomen promised to bring him in the Night time, to her Lady's Lodgings, and so to dispose of him, that he should see her pull off her clothes before she went to Bed, walking in her Smock about the Chamber for Coolness, and Singing and Playing upon the Lute, which she did admirably well. Adrastus was overjoyed with the thoughts of so great an happiness, Belanca was very surprising under the disadvantages of a Widow's Habit, but would certainly be much more Beautiful, when she appeared like a Naked Venus; Her great pretensions to Virtue and Modesty, laid so severe a Restraint upon her Conversation, That she rarely or never admitted any Gallant to a private Discourse; These Considerations raised Adrastus his Expectations to the highest degree of Pleasure and Contentment. Night being come, Adrastus by the direction of Clora, Belanca's Woman, conveyed himself into her House, and was so conveniently placed, that he saw her sitting on a Couch, reading in a Prayer-Book whilst her Women were undressing her. Belanca was ready to go into Bed, when Clora entreated her Mistress to Sing, and put a Lute into her Hand, which she readily complied withal (it being her usual Custom, when she was not Melancholy indisposed) and performed so well, that Adrastus could hardly forbear casting himself at her Feet, there to Act the Part of the Ecstatick Lover. She Sung not long, but went to Bed, her Women withdrew to their Chambers, and Adrastus went out undiscovered at a Door Clora had left open for him, but coming into the Court, he found the Gate shut fast and Locked. Not knowing what to do in this Distress, he sat down upon the side of a Well in a Corner of the Court, to consider with himself: While his Thoughts were thus Engaged, he perceived a Door open that belonged to some part of Belanca's Lodgings, and saw the fair Widow, whom he thought fast Asleep, with a Wax-Candle in one Hand, and a Plate covered with Jellyes and Conserves in the other; she had a Rich Flowered Gown wrapped loose about her; and in this Dress she was so full of Charms and Attraction, that he much wondered what this Beautiful Phantasm meant, sometimes flattering himself that he was the Person she sought after. At length he perceived her to go towards the Stable door, whither he at a distance followed her, and supposing she went to visit some Servant that was Sick, wondered at the Excess of her Pious Charity. He hid himself behind one of the Horses, and saw her go to the Bedside of a Black a more, that was Sick, who seemed to be about Thirty Years of Age, but with so Ghostly a Look, that he appeared like the true Image of Death. Adrastus' admired the unparallelled Goodness of Belanca, who took up the Negro's Coverlet, and having raised his Head, sat down by him, and with Tears in her Eyes, wiped the Cold Sweat from his Forehead with her Handkerchief. Adrastus knew not what to think of a Charity so Transcendent, when she with showers of Tears, Asked him How he did? and with a Voice interrupted by Sobs; My dear Frank (said she) Art thou resolved to die, and with thy own, be my Death too? Thou spakest not to me, my Dearest, Take Heart my Soul, if thou desirest I should Live, and Eat a little of this jelly, for my sake, who Loves thee, who Adores thee, Kiss me my Angel, Kiss me and recover thy Health or let me die with thee. To this effect were her Expostulations, joining her Angelical Face, to the Diabolical Countenance of the Moor, which she bedewed with Tears. When he with his scraggy Hand removing her Face from his own, with a hollow Voice, said to her, What would you have of me Madam? why will you not let me die in quiet? Is it not enough you have reduced me to this miserable Condition I am in, but now you Expect at the point of Death, I should sacrifice the few Minutes I have left, to the Satisfaction of your Insatiable Inclinations? Take a Husband, Take a Husband Madam, and Expect no more from me, who am more fit for the Cold Embraces of Death, than the Warm Pleasures of your Lustful Arms. Having so said, he slunk down into the Bed, and so suddenly, that Belanca could not get one word more from him, but returned to her Chamber with a Countenance full of Sadness and Discontent, like a disconsolate Widow at the Funeral of a Husband she dearly loved. Adrastus lay close in the Corner of the Stable till the Gate was open, and getting into the Streets returned to his Lodgings with Wonder and Astonishment. Next day as he passed by Belanca's House, the Moor was carried out to his Burial, and a Week after he received this Letter from Belanca, by one of her Servants.  
Belanca to Adrastus.  
YOU would have me believe you think me not Unhandsome, and I cannot but Acknowledge I am so taken with you, That I am willing to Grant you immediately what I had not promised till a Year was Expired. My Person and Estate are at your disposal, and though I cannot be too Circumspect in a Business of this Nature, yet your Merit and my Affection, shall be my Security.  
Belanca.  
Adrastus was now altered in his Resolutions of Marriage, and having read her Letter twice or thrice over, returned this Answer:  
Adrastus to Belanca.  
I Am naturally a Person of a very nice Conscience, and therefore cannot without some remorse, Answer your Proposal of Marriage, you being a Widow but since last Week. You are much more Obliged to the Memory of your Negro, who lost his Life in your Service, and can bestow no less than a Year in Bewailing the miscarriage of a Person, whose Performances you thought so Extraordinary. In the Interim we shall both of us have time to Consider what we have to do.  
Adrastus.  
Adrastus' having sent his Mistress this Letter, immediately left Stockholm, and retired into the Country, where five Months after he received this sad Account of her miserable End.  
Belanca finding herself with Child by her African Gallant, concealed her Great-Belly from all the World but her Confident Clora, who Assisting her at the time of her Delivery, they murdered the Tawny Offspring to conceal the Shame of her Lustful Dalliances, and Clora commanded to Bury it in the Garden, but being Discovered, was Apprehended and brought before the Officers of Justice, where in hopes of Pardon, she Confessed how far she was Guilty, Charging the rest on Belanca, who having Notice by the Officers who came to Seize her, what Clora had Accused her of, what through the horror of the Gild, and dread of the Punishment, snatching up a Poniard which lay upon the Table, she stabbed herself to the Heart, and died immediately. Clora had Confessed herself Guilty of the Murder of the Infant, which though it might look rather like an Act of Service and Fidelity to her Lady, than a malicious Design in herself, was condemned to be hanged, and Three Days after Executed.  Nothing Encourages Sin more, than the false Hopes of Impunity; for did we really believe the justice of Heaven would most certainly punish our Sins in proportion to our own Demerits; the Murderer would temper his Passion, and the Adulterer cool his Lust. But that thou may'st no more dare to Sin, than thou art willing and able to bear the Punishment Heaven shall infl●ct on thy Guilty Head; I have here represented the sad Consequence of those two horrid Sins, Murder and Adultery, where in Variety of Tragical Examples, thou may'st see the justice of Heaven Triumphant in the Punishment of such Notorious Offenders.   


The Triumphs of Chastity   
Sold by Benj: Crayle att the sign of the Lamb in Fleet street.   

THE TRIUMPHS OF FRIENDSHIP AND CHASTITY.  
Exemplified in some Eminent EXAMPLES AND Delightful Histories.  
LONDON: Printed for Benj. Crayle, in Fleetstreet.   

THE TRIUMPHS OF FRIENDSHIP, etc.  

By way of Introduction.  
IN the two former Treatises I have lively represented how nea●ly Sin is allied to Punishment, in several Tragical Examples of Murder and Adultery; to deter us from the Commission of those Crimes which will render us as infamously miserable, as those poor Wretches were. And in this Second Part I shall endeavour to encourage Virtue by those Glorious Instances of Successful Goodness, which have perfumed the Memories of the Authors, and given Immortality to their Names, whose Bodies are long since crumbled into Dust, and their Ashes lost amongst the common Ruins of Mankind. I shall Contract my Discourse under these two Heads, Friendship and Chastity, as they do more directly oppose the precedent Crimes of Murder and Adultery. And here I mean not that Friendship which receives its Birth from any Effeminate Passion of Love and Desire; but that Exalted Friendship, whose Noble Extract is only derived from Virtue and Honour, which is of so pure a Temper, that none but Good Men are Capable of it. 'Tis a Misery indeed, that the Knowledge of such a Blessedness as a True Friend is, can hardly be without some sad Misfortune, for when we are Happy in the Springtide of Abundance, and the Rising flood of Plenty, all Men flock about us with bare Heads, bended Knees, and protesting Tongues: But when these pleasing waters fall to an Ebb, than they look upon us at a distance, and stiffen themselves as if they were in Armour, lest (if they should comply with us) they get a wound in the Close. This has deterred some from taking part with an inauspicious Friendship, but by how much the more miserable, by so much are they the more certain Examples of a Generous Fidelity. For a Man to Expose his Life to the Hazard of a Duel in behalf of his Friend, may appear an Action of Honour and Gallantry; but in Cold Blood to present himself to an undoubted Death for a Friend, is a thing rarely seen, and Antiquity furnishes us with few Examples thereof, they tell us indeed of Damon and Pythias, and the Poets speak with Admiration touching Castor his sharing of Immortality with his Brother Pollux. But I shall here present you with a late memorable Example of a Generous Friendship (out of the History of Poland) which preserved the Lives of both the Friends, who eagerly contended to Die for each other, As follows:   

HIST. I. Rabatski and Farnel.  
Rabatski and Farnel, two Intimate and Faithful Friends. Rabatski falls in ●ove with Hilaria, who is also Courted by Poto●●i, but slighted by her; whereupon he endeavours to murder him in the Street, but he is preserved by his Friend Farnel, who kills Potosti and his Man, and flies. Rabatski is taken and Condemned to l●●e his Head. At the Place of Execution Farnel appears, owning himself the Murderer. They are afterwards, in regard of their Inviolable Friendship, both Saved, Married and Preferred.  
AT Vilna the Metropolitan City and University of Lithuania, one of the Principal Provinces in the Kingdom of Poland, lived two young Gentlemen named Al●xander Rabatski, and Peter Farn●l, who had such an Inclination and Affection for each other in their tender Youth, that if their Friendship increased with their Age, it was judged by all they would attain such a degree of Perfection, as would dim the Lustre of all those, Ancient Historians have so highly commended to us. They Studied together in the University, and Learned all the Exercises in the Academy befitting their Birth and Condition, wherein by a worthy Emulation they surpassed their Fellows, and as the Passions which most agitate Youth are Quarrels and Love, in both these Storms they supported each other with so inviolable Fidelity, that the Interest of the one was the others, without suffering the least sprig of Jealousy to cast its Thorny Roots of Suspicion into their Hearts. At length it happened Rabatski placed his Affection on a subject full of Honour, the Virtuous and Beautiful Hilaria, who was one of the compleatest Gentlewomen in the City, of a Good Family, and Considerable Fortune: But that which made his Address to this Lady most difficult, was the Courtship of Potosti, Son to one of the Principal Citizens of Vilna, who had already gained her Parents goodwill, and Rivalled him in his Affections to his Mistress. Hilaria, who was Judicious above her Age, soon discovered the different Temp●rs of her Lovers, and knew how to make a Choice most agreeable to her own humour; she observed Potosti was Proud and Haughty, Arrogant in his Behaviour and Discourse, who instead of winning Love by Submission, made himself odious to her by his Vanities and Bravadoes. Rabatski was Mild and Modest, endued with all those Charming Qualities which render Conversation pleasing and grateful, this so much affected Hilaria that the Offer of his Service was no sooner presented but received. And although he had no permission from her Parents to become a Suitor to her▪ yet she applied herself to Love him with that Ardency of Affection, that jealous Potosti soon discovered his Rival had robbed him of his Mistress her Heart, for which he vowed a severe Revenge. Not long after they met accidentally, and Potosti with more Boldness than Civility told him, If he dared to Offer any farther Respects t● his Mistress Hilaria, he would punish his Insolence, and make him dearly repent his great Folly and R●shness. Rabatski told him, He could not flatter himself into an Opinion that he deserved so good a ●ady as Hilaria was; but he hoped his Pretensi●●s might any where be Equal to his in p●●nt of Honour or Quality, and that he had neither so little Affection, or so great a share of Cowardice, to fear his Threats who was his Superior in nothing that was Generous and Brave. These words seconded by sundry Replies, would have urged them to a present Quarrel, had noisome Friends interposed.  
In the mean time Potosti possessed the Parents of Hilaria, as much as Rabatski did the Heart of the Maid, and caused them to forbid her his Company, and by an Acquaintance of Potosti's scent Rabatski word, that they desired he would forbear his Courtship to their Daughter, which was very displeasing to them, and for the future he would avoid their House to prevent any farther incivility that might be offered to him. This so incensed Hilaria against Potosti, that as she shunned his Company and all Converse with him, so she diligently sought all Opportunities to see or write to her belov'd Rabatski. Potosti daily saw by what secret Practices his Rival advanced himself in the Affections of Hilaria, and not being longer able to bear her rigorous Contempts, resolved to rid himself of his Competitor by a private and bloody Revenge; whereupon he caused him to be watched Night and Day, and at length understood his usual walk was by Night up and down before Hilaria's House; Potosti like to a Jealous Person who seeks nothing more eagerly than that which he is least willing to find, went in the Evening and hid himself near the House with his Friend Leoline, and one of his Men, a lusty tall Fellow, whose Courage and Fidelity he much trusted. Lo●g had they not lain in Ambuscade before Rabatski came, accompanied with his Friend Farnel, to walk their accustomed Round; when at certain signs which he made, Hilaria appeared at her Window, with whom he entered into Discourse, whilst Farnel being a little wide from them, gave 'em time and liberty to talk.  
What Furies of Jealousy did then invade the Breast of Impatient Potosti? then was the time, the Appetite of Vengeance seized him, and that he intended to Cut his Rival in pieces, who to his disadvantage was thus favoured by his Mistress; upon which he commanded his Man to set upon Farnel, whilst Leoline and he would Chastise the Insolence of Rabatski. At this they all three started out at once, and parting, ran to assail their Adversaries. Farnel soon laid the Servant at his Feet for dead and then ran to help Rabatski, who having set his Back to a Wall, by the advantage of a Shop, warded the Blows and Thrusts which his Enemies made at him. Farnel came furiously up, and the first he met with at his Swords-point was Potosti, whom surprising behind as he was eagerly passing at Rabatski, he ran his Sword into his Back up to the Hilt, whereupon he fell dead to the ground: Leoline received some slight wounds, but secured his Life by a speedy Flight. Farnel scaped without any hurt, but Rabatski was in danger of his Life by the great effusion of Blood from his several Wounds. The People came out at the Noise of this Combat, and found Potosti stark dead on the stones, and his man some few steps from him, yielding up the Ghost. Rabatski was conducted to a Neighbour's House, and a Surgeon sent for to dress his wounds but he swooned in such a manner that for a while they thought him dead, but by the force of Remedies they brought him to himself again, and after he was dressed, laid him into Bed.  
In the mean while Leoline acquainted Potosti's Parents with the untimely Death of their Son, and related the matter to his own Advantage, telling them they were both treacherously assaulted by Rabatski and Farnel, which took such impression, that they believed all he said, and immediately acquainted the Officers of Justice with the Murder, who ordered that Rabatski and Farnel should be Apprehended and cast into Prison▪ whereupon Rabatski was seized and dragged to Prison, without any respect to his weak Condition. Farnel made his Escape in hopes to prove his own Innocency and his Friends, by showing what they did was in their own Defence: But the Case went quite otherways than he expected, Potosti's Friends and Relations had that Power and Authority in the City of Vilna, that in few days Rabatski was Arraigned and Condemned to lose his Head. The time of his Execution being come▪ he was brought to the Scaffold, and though he publicly protested his Innocence, that he was not the Author of this Murder, but Assaulted by the Treachery of Potosti and Leoline; yet the Executioner was ready to give the fatal stroke, when 〈◊〉 Farnel came thrusting into the Crowd, and with an admirable Courage cried out, Rabatski is Innocent, and I only am Guilty of the Murder ●f Potosti and his Man, and then with a clear and distinct Voice, and a Countenance which ou●●ray'd 〈◊〉, declared to the Magistrate (who was present to see the Execution) how all had passed, Concluding, That if ● Man must die for defending his own Life, he was there ready to offer his own H●a● to justice to preserve his Friend.  
All the Company were struck with Admiration to see this Generous Act! and the People began to Mutiny, Crying out Pardon, Pardon, resolving to kill all that opposed them, rather than suffer the Execution to proceed any farther. This Tumult grew very great, But with difficulty was appeased by the Magistrate, who promised the Cause should be heard over again, and Judged according to Equity, upon which they grew quiet and the two Friends were led to Prison. The Palatine of Vilna heating of this Incomparable Generosity of Farnel, went himself in Person to the Prison to visit these two Friends, who both contested before him who should die for his Fellow. He heard the History of the two Lovers Rabatski and Hilaria, and a particular Relation of all the Circumstances of the late Accident. Leoli●e was then Examined and Confronted with them, who by the Death of the Man and the Master, and by the force of Truth was constrained to Acknowledge the Ambuscade, and that they were Three against Two, and that Farnel alone killed Potosti and his Servant. Upon this Farnel pleaded the Cause for his own Death and the Safety of Rabatski, with all the powerful Arguments a less Generous Friend could have used for the preservation of his Life; urging, That if to save his Friend from Violence was a Crime so heinous, he alone deserved the Punishment. Nay, rather Glory, Honour and Recompense (replied the Palatine) and thereupon discharged them both from Prison, and gave them their Pardons. Leoline like a base and treacherous man, was put into the same place, and had been a Spectacle to the People on the same Scaffold, had not his Friends by their Prayers and Entreaties, obtained the Favour to have his doom changed into a Banishment for Seven Years.  
The Palatine was not pleased only with saving the Lives of these two Friends, but caused Rabatski to marry with Hilaria, and procured a Wife for Farnel, a Gentlewoman who was nearly Allied to himself; entreating these two Friends to receive him as a Third into their Incomparable Friendship. This afterwards coming to the Ears of the King, in favour of the Palatine, they were both advanced to Honourable Employments. And Lived together many years after, happy in the fruition of a Reciprocal Affection, and entire Friendship, till time at length put a period to their days, and gave immortality to their Names, which still bear Record, as a Glorious Example to future Ages.  Thus we see a Sincere Friendship is the strictest Alliance, and most Noble Relation. Orestes is better known by his Friend Pylades, than by Agamemnon his Father. Hence do we conclude, That he that follows Virtue and Embraces her, shall be Crowned with Glory and Honour.  

HIST. II. Aleran and Incmar.  
Aleran and Incmar two Faithful Friends Incmar falls in Love with Yoland, the Marriage is obstructed by her Parents; and the day appointed for her espousals to H●golin. Aleran and Incmar steal her away in Man's H●bit, ●nd fly to Briemberg, where (forced by want) they 〈◊〉 themselves Soldiers. The Town is Sacked, Incmar and Yoland are k●l●'d in the Breach. Aleran lives to tell the sad Tale, and dies of his Wounds. They are all Three Buried in one Grave.  
IN the time of Alexander Farnes● Prince of Parma the Marquis de Vara●hon received Orders to block up Briemberg, a very strong little Town near Rh●●●erg, under the States of Holland This Brave Captain made his Approaches with so much Courage and Policy, that at las● upon a general Assault the Town was taken by Storm; the enraged Enemy gave no Quarter, nor any respect to Age or Sex, Honour or Riches, all was now become desolate, and submitted to the absolute and entire Conquest of the Marquis. Particular Care was taken to bu●y the Dead for fear any Infection should corrupt the Air: amongst whom two Soldiers were found in the Breach so closely Embraced, that nothing but that unhappy state they were in, seemed able to divide their Bodies. The Enemy seeing these two reasonably well Clothed, stripped them quite Naked, when to their great Amazement they found one of them white as Snow, of wonderful Beauty, excellent Proportion, and a Woman. The Marquis who was a Gentleman that made great Account of Love and Valour, being acquainted with it, was curious to know the reason of this memorable Adventure, which proved so unfortuate in the Success. It seemed strange to him that an Armed Venus should be found there enchased in the Arms of Mars; he passionately desired to know who these two Lovers were, that he might pay a suitable Honour to the Memory of their Courage and Fidelity. At length he was told, that a Soldier who was extremely wounded, and had yielded himself Prisoner to a Burgundian Captain, had offered to satisfy him in the Truth of this Amorous and Warlike History.  
The Prisoner being in that desperate Condition, the Surgeons thought it very unsafe for him to stir, whereupon the Marquis went to see him, accompanied with several of his Principal Officers, that he might learn from his own mouth the particulars of this strange Event. The Sick Man resuming an extraordinary Courage upon the appearance of the Marquis, made this Relation:  
My Lord, I render Thanks to Heaven, which hath given me so much Life as I wish for, to yield in so Honourable Company the glorious Testimony which I owe to my Love, and to my Friendship, which done, I shall die in peace; for I can no more live without Friendship, than move without a Soul, that indeed is my Soul, the Intelligence which actuates this Body, and gives Life and Vigour to all my Faculties.  
My Name is Aleran, my Birth Noble, my Country is the Landgraviat of Hessen, the Place that saw my entrance into the World is Melsignam, near unto Cassel. I entered into so strict a Friendship with Incmar, a Gentleman, Native of Rottinburgh, who had been bred up a Page to the Landgrave, that we were commonly called The Inseparable: Those Impatiencies which Lovers feel when they are from their Mistresses, we felt whensoever we were asunder. We lived in the same House, lay in the same Bed, had but one Purse, one Table, the same Servants, the same Liveries, the same Retinue, and when any of our Servants were Asked unto whom they did belong, they answered to The Two Friends, if those that are but one, may be called Two. It happened once when we were at Melsignam, my Friend saw a fair Maid in Company, named Yoland, whose Graces so surprised his Heart, that all his Thoughts and Meditations were fixed on this Beautiful Object. I presently judged he was stung with Love, and he acknowledged as much to me at first ask, for he concealed nothing from me. Truly said I, I am very glad you have addressed your Affections to a Gentlewoman with whom I have some Interest and Acquaintance, and who is at a distance allied to me, and by these Advantages I hope to make your access more easy to her. My Friend with Tears of Joy in his Eyes, told me it was the most grateful piece of Friendship I could offer to him, and earnestly begged of me that I would contrive some way that he might the next Evening be happy in her Company. This and all other good Offices I performed with that Success, that my Friend was now assured, that all his Respects to the Beautiful Yoland were answered with a reciprocal Passion.  
Thus Incmar by frequent Conversation at last won Yolands' Heart, but how to come to the possession of her Fair Body, that Ornament of Nature, seemed a Task more difficult, there was some Obstacles which appeared Invincible, if any thing can be so to the Almighty Power of Love. Raoul, Yoland's Father, was Married to Graciana her Stepmother, upon condition that a Son of hers named Hugolin, should marry this Gentlewoman, assoon as their Age made them capable of those Nuptial Ceremonies, which Raoul in consideration of Graciana's present Fortune (which was very great) had sacredly obliged himself to, without any respect to the content of his Daughter, who certainly could never take pleasure in the Embraces of such a monstrous Deformity: Hugolin had a Back higher than his Head, able to ease Atlas of his Burden as well as Hercules, had the rest of his Body bore any proportion to it: But he was so little one would have thought he had grown in no part but his Ha●r, since the Day of his Birth. His Shape was like a middle sized Bowl, his Complexion a little whiter than an Ethiopians, near the Colour of a Sick Spaniard, his Lips big, his Cheeks flat, his Eyes almost lost in his Head, and this Figure supported by two Legs so small, that the Ears of Corn which totter in the Field with the least breath of wind, have a fairer foundation; these were the Columns of this Mighty Hercules. With all these Remedies to Love, what could be bred in the Heart of Yoland but an utter abhorrence and detestation? whilst my Friend was adorned w●th all those Graces which render a Gentleman Complete and Amiable.  
Hugolin soon grew Jealous of Incmar, and challenged Raoul's Promise to his Mother Graciana, who seconded her Son's Request with that importunity to her Husband, that he promised in six Months the Marriage should be solemnised, and in the interim that he would discard this brave Courtier (meaning Incmar) that thus put crickets into his Head, and forbid his Daughter to see him any more, which he accordingly did. My Friend with great Trouble and Discontent withdrew from Melsignam and went to the Court at Cass●l, and left me his Resident to Negotiate his Amours with that Diligence and Fideilty he might justly expect from me. I informed him Day by Day of the Constancy and Affection of his Mistress, but as it is hard to be long in the Sun without being tanned, or in a Perfumer's Shop without drawing from thence good Odours; It happened that my frequent Converse with Yoland raised I know not what inclinations in my Soul, which became Love before I perceived it; her Attraction and Charms struck so deep into my heart, that I was a long time in Balance tottering betwixt Love and Friendship, not knowing unto which party to yield. The Combat was long and doubtful, but at length my Honour conquered my Sense, Reason my Passion, and my Friendship to Incmar Triumphed over my Love to Yoland.  
Hugolin and Graciana narrowly inspected my proceedings, and soon discovered the Design I managed; That in vain they had forbid Incmar their house, and Yoland his Company, since I yet remained behind, who with my utmost Diligence endeavoured to promote his Interest with their Daughter. Hugolin and his Mother by their Daily Complaints to Raoul, at last so incensed him, that he promised he would acquaint the Landgrave (by whom he was much esteemed) that Incmar and I designed a Violence upon his Daughter, and troubled her Marriage, which he accordingly did. Whereupon I was sent for by a Messenger to Cassel, and Incmar and I received sharp Reprehensions from the Landgrave, who ordained that she should marry Hugolin, according to the Promise Raoul had made his Mother. This Decree from a Sovereign Mouth, was without Appeal. Incmar at the same time, by the suggestions of Raoul, who prosecuted him with the utmost Malice, was threatened to be Banished the Court, and lose all those Honourable and Advantageous Employments he enjoyed, if he ever after dared in the least to disturb the Match. My Friend continued at Cassel, having promised the Landgrave never more to intermeddle with that Affair, and I by his directions went back to Melsignam, to observe what measures they took.  
Raoul went back to Melsignam to consummate the Marriage of his Daughter with Hugolin, and not long after the Time was fixed, and I had Notice of the Day by Letter from Yoland, who was resolved to die rather than marry with that shame of Humane Nature. I soon transmitted the Letter to Incmar, who that Night came privately over to me; I obtained a private meeting from Yoland, when it was resolved that all our hopes of future Happiness depended upon a sudden Flight, which was agreed to the next N●ght.  
Judge now the force of my Friendship, it hood winked my Eyes from all Considerations; I served my Friend against the Honour of my own blood. I in an Instant renounced all Love to my Country, all my Estate, the Favour of my Prince, and all hopes of Fortune, to follow the blind desires of these Lovers, both which I loved with Incredible passions. It was I that in the Obscurity of Night which favoured our Enterpize, drew Yoland forth of her Father's house, through a Window, and having Clothed her in one of my Suits, led her to Incmar, who stayed for us in the Fields. With good Ho●ses, we Rid till day, and made that speed that we got out of the Landgrave's Territories ere any Justice could lay hold of us; But because we knew the hands of Princes are long, finding no safety in High Germany, we came down disguised into these parts, where we had not continued long, ere that little was consumed, which the sudden haste of our departure had permitted us to bring from our Country.  
To tell you something of what passed in our Country after our flight, we heard by some secret Friends, That the Land-grave was unmeasurably incensed against us, Ordained that the Law should proceed against us as Ravishers, we were Condemned to lose our Heads, which we suffered in Effigy, our Goods were Confiscate, in brief we were used with all Imaginable rigour and severity, so that having no hopes of succour from home, we settled all on our own Valour, and committed our Fortune to the hazard of Arms. Behold now to what degree of Courage Love doth Elevate a Soul Inspired with it! Yoland who had taken man's Apparel to follow her Lover, found herself so well in that habit and took such delight in the Exercise of Arms, that she learned in short time to Fence, to Ride the managed Ho●se, and did every thing with that Dexterity that she was deservedly accounted the Compleatest Gentleman in the Troop. The necessity we were under, and the fear that the Landgrave's wrath should persecute us by his Agent, constrained us to Enrol ourselves under the State's Colours. Yoland assumed the name of Rolond, and was Incmar's Comrade and Bedfellow being first privately married to him, of which I myself was witness, and since by her Bravery and Courage made herself famous in many Encounters. When I saw them in possession of their desire, It was then that I discovered with how much labour and pain I had overcome the Violence of my passions, in consideration of my Friendship to Incmar. They admired this Victory over myself; Incmar highly applauded my Exalted Friendship, and Yoland protested to me, that saving her Honour, after her Love due to Incmar, she loved no man better. Incmar gave me leave to call her my Mistress, and she called me her Servant, and that was all the Favour that ever I had from her, Except sometimes Kissing her no less valiant than fair hand.  
After many Encounters we shut ourselves up in Briemberg resolving to show in this Siege, the highest proofs of Valour in Extreme Events, where there hath happened what you have seen: Military Command having separated me from them, they have been killed in the Breach, and as it may be thought, Incmar being first dead, and Yoland unwilling to survive him, was killed on his Body and Expired in his Arms.  
Aleran thus ended his Discourse, and had like at the same time to have ended his Life, so extremely did grief oppress his heart; The Marquis pitying his great Courage, gave order to his Doctors and Surgeons to labour in this Cure with all their Industry, but notwithstanding their great Care and pains he died two days after, and was by Command of the Marquis Interred with Honour by Incmar and his wife, under a fair Marble Tomb with this Inscription.  

To the Memory of the Three Lovers, Inseparable in Life and Death.  
Sincere Friendship is the most Excellent Endeavour of Humane Nature; it Contracts Two Souls into one, and according to the fable of Aristophanes unites a Man with the other half of himself.    

HIST. III. Mellinto and Valeria.  
Mellinto Courts Valeria, and is betrothed to her. The Lord Beltimore falls in Love with her. Mellinto out of his great Affection to Valeria, and respect to her advancement, retracts the espousals. They are afterwards married, she is taken by Pirates, he Swims after to the Galley, and f●r her sake m●kes himself a voluntary Slave. The King of Tunis understanding their faithful Love, releaseth both. Upon their Re●urn they find B●ltimore dead, who by Will Bequeathed his whole Estate to Valeria, in regard of her Constancy and fidelfty to Mellinto.  
NOT far from Brundisium (in the Province of O●ranto in the Kingdom of Napl●s) formerly well known for one of the best Havens in the World▪ lived Signior Mordenni, a Gentleman of considerable Quality and Estate, much about the same time that Massinello made his Insurrection at Naples. This Gentleman had five Sons, and one Daughter named Valeria, who bore away the Palm of Beauty from all the Maids of that Country, and as she had many Admirers, was more particularly Adored by Mellinto, a Young Gentleman of more Esteem for his great Virtue than Eminent in his Fortune; between whom there was that sympathy of Affection, and agreeableness of humour and disposition, that the Match seemed to be made in Heaven, and they born for the mutual Love and Enjoyment of each other.  
The Father of Valeria was much obliged to the Lord of B●ltimore, a Nobleman who lived three Miles off, from whom upon all Occasions he had received generous Testimonies of his Friendship and Kindness, for which reasons, amongst other Gentlemen his Neighbours, he invited his good Lord and Patron to the Ceremony of Betrothing his Daughter to Mellinto, who willing to do Mordenni all the Honour he could upon so great a Solemnity, promised his Company. All things were performed with much Pomp and Solemnity, and Mel●into and Valeria mutually Espoused and Engaged to Marry each other, on such a day as should be agreed upon between their Friends and Relations. Nothing ●ow was wanting but to proceed to the Consummation of this Marriage, the term of few days was prescribed to prepare and end it. The Content of the two ●overs had exceeded all common bounds of Delight ●nd Satisfaction, had not the adjourning of the Day 〈◊〉 on which they should have been United) put water ●nto their Wine, and moderated their Joy by ensuing Troubles. Whether Valeria had added to her Natural beauty any secret Embellishments of Art, or whether ●he Earl's Eyes were more discerning that Day than ●hey were formerly, is uncertain; but so it fell out ●hat Valeria's Conquering Charms so far prevailed upon him, that he lost both Judgement and Knowledge of himself; and though he was very Ancient, and extremely Afflicted with the Gout, yet would he needs enrol himself under the Standard of Cupid, where the Old and Impotent are never welcome; so great was the Folly and Dotage of this Decrepit Lord.  
After he had made a weak Resistance to the Assault this Innocent Beauty made, he yields, resolving to Cure himself of this importunate Desire by Marriage; whereupon he went to Mordenni, the Father of this Beautiful Conqueress, and weeping like a Child, represented his Grief to him: Mordenni took pity of him, and counted it a great Honour that he should request to have his Daughter in Marriage; But my Lord (said he) you know she is Espoused to another, and this Promise cannot be broken but by the Consent of both Parties. I shall (replied the Lord Beltimore) deal so bountifully with Mellinto, that in obliging me he shall be the better for it as long as he lives, and I will so well provide for your Daughter, that both she and your whole Family shall be sensible of the good effects of it.  
This News was carried by Mordenni to Mellinto, who (poor Gentleman) received it as the Sentence of his Death, and indeed to rend so strong a Love from his Heart, was no less than to tear his Soul from his Body. He could not Answer but with Tears, like a Stag that stands at Bay (Mordenni pressing him to it) he fell down in a Swoon, showing thereby that he could not grant so hard a Request but by Death. Then went he to his Daughter to try her mind, who had no other Answer but Sighs and Sobs; at last, amongst many interruptions, he learned That her will was in the hands of Mellinto, and being Espoused to him, she had now no more power to dispose of herself. He then went back to Mellinto, who having with incredible Convulsions of mind, digested the bitter Thoughts of the Ruin of his Love, which he saw so apparent, took at last a Courageous Resolution and such a one as he might justly be blamed for, if not rightly understood, Philosophers distinguish between Loves, and say the most perfect is that which tends most to the good of the Person beloved, and that which is less perfect and respects the advantage of the Person loving, is not so properly called Love, as self-interest and design. In this Mellinto desired to show the perfection of his love to Valeria, by considering more her happiness and advancement, than his own content. Whereupon Mellinto told him, he would, though unwillingly, resign his Title to the Lord Beltimore; Mordenni overjoyed at this answer, tenderly embraced him, and mixing their Tears together, told him, he should be eternally obliged to him, and would ever account him as much the Raiser of his House and Family as the Lord Beltimore was. This news was presently carried by Mordenni to his Daughter, who was so incredulous, that she told him she would never believe it, till she heard it from Mellintoes own mouth. Presently after Mellinto came in, with a dejected countenance, and eyes overflowing with tears, who could not endure to look Valeria in the face, who he thought would upbraid him with disloyalty thus to forsake her, & give her up to the embraces of another. After they had in some measure overcome the violence of their passions, Mellinto made it evidently appear to Valeria, that she was much mistaken in accounting that for baseness of heart and disloyalty in him, which was the greatest act of Magnanimity his heart could show, to renounce his own proper interest and satisfaction in favour of the person he so dearly loved.  
Valeria could not at first conceive this subtlety, her soul being so closely united to Mellintoes, that she believed nothing but death could part them. Oh Mellinto! (said she) Dear Mellinto! What hath caused you so easily to forsake me? Call you that loving, and perfectly loving to part with me? I should not only have pefered you to a Lord, but a King, to the most potent Emperor on the Earth; for I esteem not men for their wealth or greatness, but for their own proper merits. Dear Valeria (replied Mellinto) the affection I bear you, works in me the same effect as death would do, since it separates me from you: my vehement desire of your greatness, makes me deprive myself of the greatest contentment I could have wished, and without which my life henceforward will be but a death: Live then Great, Honoured, Happy, Rich, most Dear Valeria, and by marrying with Beltimore, become the Glory of thy Kindred, whilst I go miserable poor, unhappy and forlorn Mellinto, spinning out the remainder of my sad days in melancholy Groves, and solitary Retirements. Much ado had they to part these two Lovers from each others Arms: A heart as hard as Adamant, could not but have relented at so Tragical a scene of Sorrow.  
The words of Betrothing being rendered back, the very next morning the Lord Beltimore made his visit to Valeria, vainly flattering himself, it was now no longer in the power of fate to blast, or cross his Amours; he promised to make her a Lady, & settle his whole Estate upon her (having no Children,) and that the Writings should be sealed before the Marriage was Consummated, which was appointed two days after. Beltimore generously sent Mellinto a Bag with 2000 Checquins, with all the Expressions of gratitude, and an assurance of his perpetual Love and Friendship, which he as Nobly returned with this Complimental Letter.  
Mellinto, to the Lord Beltimore.  
MY Lord, I am no stranger to your favours, neither am I ignorant of your being Master of a liberal and grateful soul, but as I never was in a Capacity to oblige you, so I cannot with jastice to myself receive your Lordship's present, which must make me a Debtor to you, more than ever I shall be able to repay. If your Lordship thinks my resigning Valeria to you, had a respect to my own Interest, or your Satisfaction, you much mistake me, all my good wishes centre in the fair Valeria, whom I endeavour to render as completely happy, as I make myself wretched and miserable. Upon no other Terms would I have parted with her, whom I value above the Treasure of both the Indies, and was I that Potent Monarch, who sees the Sun both rise and set in his own Dominions, I would lay my Crown at your Feet to preserve Valeria in my Arms.  
Mellinto.  
Valeria was in presence when Beltimore received this Answer from Mellinto, which made so deep Impression on her, that the next morning, which was designed for the Wedding, she rose early, and attended only by her Maid, went over to Mellinto, and was privately married to him, of which, she immediately sent her Father an account. Modenni spared no words to express his rage and fury, nor did Beltimore conceal his deep Resentments of the Affront done to his Person, and the disappointment to his longing Expectations. The Father utterly disowned his Daughter, and would not admit of a Reconciliation, though they offered the most powerful reasons for what was done by the Intercession of Friends. Mellinto had but a very small Estate, which the Expenses their Quality obliged them to soon Consumed, nor would Cruel Mordenni relieve their distresses, though he daily heard of their complaints: But these wants made no breach between this loving pair, who were constant in their affections, happy in the midst of poverty, and contented in the extremity of misery.  
It unfortunately happened, that Mellinto and Valeria walked out together one Evening, more to divert their Melancholy thoughts, than any Pleasure they could take in viewing that single Acre which was all the Remainder of their Land, on which fed their whole Herd of Cattle, two loving Mulls, the living Riches, and support of their Family. Mellinto upon some urgent occasion in their return stayed behind, and Valeria went on to take her usual walk upon the Beach where she had the prospect of those Galleys which Rowed by; A Turkish Galley belonging to Algiers having just landed their Boat, immediately seized all they met with on the Strand, and amongst others Valerea, who in sight of her Husband, was carried off to the Galley which lay hard by with Spanish Colours, this dreadful sight he saw, heard her Skreaks and outcries which pierced his Heart, but he was too far distant to make any attempt, though his best endeavours would have proved fruitless, and unsucessful in her Rescue. He saw her gone beyond recovery, and tears and complaints were but in vain, when like a constant Friend, and loving Husband, he plunged himself into the Sea, and swum up to the Galley where he was taken up and brought before the Captain, who told him, he was come to follow his Wife, and neither feared their Cruelty nor begged their Pity, that freedom without her Company was a more miserable slavery to him, than they endured who tugged at the Oar. The Turks very much admired his Transcendent Love and Courage, for they had seen some of his Country Men rather choose death than endure a life so Severe and Cruel.  
Amongst some others that he knew a Board, there was a Young Gentleman named Placento, about 22 Years of Age, whose Father was next neighbour to Mellinto, Placento lying chained to his Oar as the rest were, was not able to endure the Turkish Cruelty, ●ut contrived an escape, and Commuicated the Methods of it to Mellinto, entreating him to bear him company, who told him he had made himself a Voluntary slave for the sake of his Wife, and would scorn that Ransom which did not first purchase her liberty before his own, much less would he run the hazard and danger of his project, and then leave her behind to their merciless fury and revenge. However Placento proceeded, and was happy in the success, which he effected in this manner, he had observed that the utmost liberty they had, was no further than their Chain gave 'em leave, which reached to the end of the Bench, where there was a large hole for the necessity of nature. Placento having prepared his Chains to come off upon easy Terms, goes to the Hole one Evening as they ●ay at Anchor, and according to the Custom of the Turks, cried Ala Banda, which is the signal they are obliged to give, when they go to that Convenience, otherwise they are Bastinadoed. The Slaves were all asleep, and only the Sentinels awake upon the fore or hindeck, who mistrusted nothing. Placento first pulled off his Coat, which he underproped with two sticks, and then got off his Fetters, (his legs being so fallen away since his being a Slave, that they grew too small for his shackles) and committing himself to the Sea, landed safe upon an Island not far off, but though his Person was gone, his Coat was severely threatened with Bastinado 's before his real escape was discovered.  
At their return to Tunis, the Captain of the Galley acquainted the King with the whole account of their surprising Valeria walking on the Beach, and how her Husband Mellinto swum after in Love to his Wife, and made himself a Voluntary Slave, rather than be deprived of her Company. The King was much moved with the Relation of so faithful & constant a Love, and within three days gave them both their Freedom▪ In the interim, the Lord Beltimore having received intelligence by some of the Neighbours of this sad Misfortune of Mellinto and Valeria, in respect of their great fidelity, (like a Noble Gentleman, had taken Care for their Ransom,) but dying before he could have any account of their Arrival at Tunis, bequeathed his whole Estate to Valeria, and left it in trust with her Father, who upon their return to Brurdusium, enjoyed it, and lived out the rest of their days in a pompous plenty, and happy Tranquillity.  Such is the inestimable value of Friendship, and Conjugal Affection that he that hath found a true Friend in a Loving Wife, hath found a double Treasure, more to be prized than all the Gold of Ophir.  

HIST. IU. Venon and Teudas.  
Teudas being in Prison, is set at liberty by his Friend Venon, who purchaseth his Freedom, and in regard of their great Friendship, Marrieth the Daughter of Teudas, by whom he had one only Daughter, Named Rosana, Who went in disguise with her Husband, and Prince Sapor to the Wars in Hungary, where being slain with her Husband after many signal proofs of their Valour, are both afterwards honourably entered by the Prince, in regard of the inviolable Friendship contracted betwixt them and the Prince.  
AT Breslaw, Chief City in the Dukedom of Silesia a Province of Germany, lived two Citizens of good quality, who loved each other entirely; the one was Teudas a Goldsmith, and the other Venon a Merchant, Venon being gone to Vienna in Austria, to buy some Commodities, stayed three Months in his Voyage: and at his return, found himself welcomed with two disasters, viz: The loss of his Wife whom he dearly loved, and the misfortune of his Friend, who was cast into Prison, and past hope of ever getting out; it was not any disorder, but rather his goodness which had reduced him to this deplorable Estate, for being bound in a great sum of Money for one of his Friends, who proved insolvent, he was condemned to the payment of it himself, whereupon all that he was worth being sold, his body was attached and clapped up into prison for the remainder.  
In this place, which may very well be called the Centre of Misery, and the Tomb of the living, Venon came to see him, who grievously complained of Fortune, accused her of Injustice, for reducing him to that miserable Estate for well doing; But that which most troubled him, was that he lost the means to marry his only Daughter, (her Age now requiring it) fearing necessity should bring her into some vain and lewd course of life. Venon stood not to comfort him with many words, but came to promises which he soon confirmed by effects. He told him that his Misery was a mark of his Virtue, against whom Fortune had sworn a pro●essed Enmity; that he should possess his soul in patience, and seeing Friendship had cast him into Prison, Friendship should fetch him out again, that he had means sufficient to relieve his extreme necessity, and redeem him out of this misery, which by the sacred laws of Friendship, he had an equal Title to. And I am so far pleased with your misfortune (said Venon,) as it gives me the Opportunity of showing the sincerity of my affection to you in this necessity, and that I am truly your Friend: As for your Daughter, let not that trouble you, seeing I have lost my Wife, I am contented to take her for my second, if you will; but if her Affections are otherwise disposed of, I have wherewithal to give her a good Portion.  
What unexpected Consolation was this to the heart of Teudas, to hear these speeches from his Friend, whose words he knew were as true as they were free. He would have used some Compliments to him, but the greatness of the benefit going beyond his Thoughts, Words and Thanks vanished in his Mouth. No says Venon, (who judged of his Interior Thoughts, by the Exterior alteration of his Countenance,) we need not give thanks for that which is our own, If I am yours, much more are all my goods yours; and either you had no need of them, or else it was your own fault, you did not dispose of them at your pleasure before, without any longer discourse, he went presently home, and fetch money, and paid the sum Teudas was detained for, upon which he was presently discharged.  
Not long after, Venon married Ermige the Daughter of Teudas, who notwithstanding the great desparity of their Years, loved him affectionately, not only as a Husband, but a second Father, and esteemed herself happy, to be a Recompense to him who had with so much goodness and liberality, released her Father out of Prison. Of so Amorous an Union of these two Hearts and Bodies, Rosana was the fair product, a Creature destined to love honourably, and generously, and was but two Months old, when her Grandfather Teudas overcome with sorrow and grief for the loss of his Estate, left this life to enjoy a better. Her Father Venon (who had much weakened his Fortunes in delivering his dear Friend out of Prison,) daily felt necessity approaching, but Heaven which guards the just, and will not suffer such noble Acts of Friendship to go unrewarded, provided for him beyond all hope and expectation: Venons grief was much like that Teudas felt in Prison, seeing himself old, he much feared he should not leave his Wife▪ wherewithal honestly to maintain herself, and bring up, and match his Daughter. But Comfort thy self O Venon with good Tobias, and be assured, that though poverty overtake thee, yet thou shalt have means sufficient; hope with job and thou shalt have all things restored to the double.  
The Duchess of Signits of a Noble House in Silesia reckoned in the Rank of Princes being ready to cry out, a Nurse was sought for to give suck to the Child she expected; and Ermige was chosen to be one of the best that could be found in all Breslaw; this came in good time to preserve this poor Family from necessity, which daily increased upon them. The Duchess was delivered of a Son, whose name was Sapor, who was delivered to Ermige to Nurse, and Rosana put to another, Ermige and her Husband were now both made part of the Duke's Household, and when time came, that Rosana was weaned and of some stature, she was put to rock the Prince, and find him sport, as the manner of Children is, thus grew Rosana gently like a Vine by its Elm Tree. Sapor was not above three or four Years old when Venon died, leaving both his Wife and Daughter to the Duchess, who looked for no other Fortune but what proceeded from her Bounty. The little Prince affected his Nurse and Rosana in such a manner, that although he was weaned, yet they both tended him and waited on him.  
Although it is a grand Error to say that the Parents beget the Souls as well as the Bodies; yet since the disquesition of the Temperature, and of the Organs, through which the Spirit exerciseth it Functions hath great effect in regard of the firm Union of Soul and Body; It is no great wonder if that Rosana sprung from Parents, whose Inclinations were wholly to Friendship, was naturally herself addicted to the same passion; which she discovered in that Love and Affection her more early Years constantly expressed to Sapor. Rosana loved Sapor in her infancy, with such an extrraordinary fervour, that as soon as she lost the sight of him, she did nothing but weep and complain; never was there seen in so tender Years so strong a passion, all the World wondered at it, and the Duke and Duchess took incomperable pleasure in it. It was a thing impossible but that Sapor should love this little Creature, which so much affected him, for to love is the most powerful Charm whereby to make ourselves beloved of others: He could not be without her, and if at any time she chanced to be away, there was nothing could make him merry. The Duchess seeing the humour of this little Girl, caused her (for Recreation only,) to be clothed like a little Page, a habit which pleased her so well, that she never put it off, but with Tears. In their first Infancy which Unites the Tongue, they without Ceremony called Brother and Sister, every one wondered at the Courage and Boldness of this little Girl, when she grew bigger, she called the Prince her Master, and he called her his Page. All the Exercises which the Master learned, the Page did learn, and what is more to be admired, with such a Grace, that she seemed for a Mirror or Example to her little Master, as Physic is given to the Nurse, that so through her milk the Child may be cured, so was it with Sapor, for when they were to give him any lesson either of Study, Dancing, or any thing else, they first taught it to his Page, she learned the faster to please him, and he took the greater Care that he might not be outstripped by a Girl, an Emulation of Virtue without Envy.  
They being now grown up from the Innocency of their first Age, they entered into the limits of Civility, and the Ceremonies of the World. She was always much affected with all bodily Exercises, as Leaping, Vaulting, Riding, Fencing, and whatever was manly and the proper accomplishment of a Cavalier; The Prince still calling for her, not only when he was at any Exercise, but at all other times when she was absent. At last her Age permitting her no longer with decency and modesty so freely to frequent with Sapor, the Duchess placed her among the other Gentlewomen, where upon all occasions she still paid that diligent observance to the Prince as sufficiently witnessed the Ardour of her Affection: And the Prince on his part bore with no less Impatience the privation of his Page's Company, it was his greatest contentment, when he could steal in amongst the Gentlewomen, thereby to entertain her who wholly possessed his thoughts.  
Lewd desires entering into his heart with knowledge poisoned his Love with sensuality, which he for some time dissembled, but not being able longer to bear the Impetuosity of his desires, he offered these Indecencies to her which could neither consist with his Honour or her unspotted Honesty, from whom he received this discreet Answer. Remember O Prince that poor as I am, and destitute of Fortune's Favours, I am Rich in Honesty, which if you once offer to undermine, you ruin my Virtue the most Established Foundation of my Life, but as I love my Honour more than my Life, so I love it also more than Sapor. If you truly love me as you have given me many signal Testimonies of it, love me honourably, otherwise I freely renounce your Friendship, and all the happy advantages thereby. I love you without Interest, and without any other desire than to see you Great and Glorious in the World, and in the Arms of a Princess worthy to be the Spouse of so Noble a Prince, and she will I wait upon with all the humility and affection of a faithful slave, who will seek no other Reward but the Glory of serving You. If Fortune should so frown that you die in deeds of Arms I will perish at your Feet, that on my Grave may be mixed the Lilies of my Chastity with the Palms of your Valour, and the Myrtles of my Incomparable Love to so dear a Master. Whoever hath seen a strong North Wind sweeping away on a sudden all the Clouds which obscured the Face of Heaven, hath seen the effects these genorous words uttered with so good a grace, immediately wrought in Sapor, the flame of his Love was now pure, the heat moderate without blackness or smoke.  
The Duke his Father being dead, and he the next Lineal Successor of that House entered into the Honours his Birth called him to. Amongst many Gentlemen, his followers, he had a particular favour for Numerian a younger Brother and a Gentleman well descended; Sapor desirous to advance this Gentleman thought he could not more befriend him than in giving him for his Wife her whom he affected as his Sister, and her whom he could have wished himself, if the Grandeur of his Birth had not obliged him, by reason of State, to seek a Match more suitable to his Quality. The Prince first acquainted Numerian with his design, who received it with all the humble and dutiful acknowledgements for so great an Honour, and next Rosana who Answered him with her accustomed Generosity, Master (said She) will it not be a Treason to give this Body to a Man who shall not possess the Heart, being so filled with the honest love it bears you, that there is no place void for any other Subject: Permit me (My dear Prince) to die a Virgin, with the glory of a Vestal, who hath not let her fire go out. The Prince was infinitely pleased with her discourse which at that time lasted long, still closing every Period with some expression of a love to him as sincere and innocent. The next day the Prince ordered Rosana to come to his Chamber in the Afternoon where she should meet Numerian, whom she no sooner saw but with a Manly and Generous behaviour, which was both natural and usual with her, spoke to him in these words.  
Sir, Here is your Master and mine, who hath a desire to join us together in the Rites of Hymen: but before I embrace this proffer, and be subject to your power, I must propound two Conditions, without which I cannot, nor will not be persuaded to take you for my Husband: My Body shall be thine, and so entirely thine, that never any but thyself shall have part therein. I shall come a Virgin to thy Bed, and if it be so that I must lose the flower of that Integrity (which I did intend to preserve all my life time,) yet it shall Perish at last with Honour in lawful Wedlock. First, than thou shalt not need to watch over my fidelity, of which I shall be more vigilant than thou canst, and if it shall be my hard fortune to outlive thee, I will be just even to thine Ashes and keep a body pure, and a Troth inviolable. I will Love thee as my Husband withal my Heart, but to prevent future Jealousies, know this, that I will love Sapor as my dear Prince, and dear Master, but Imagine not him to have any part thereby, in any thing that shall appertain to thee, he hath no such thought, and if he had, he should find his expectations frustrate; and if thou dost think this Friendship which is so pure, honest, just and lawful, should be contrary to the Loyalty I owe to thee; I do now renounce to thy love and alliance, for I am resolved to carry to my grave this first & glorious flame. The other Condition is, that thou permit me to exercise myself in Arms, in Hunting, and other like Recreations, and if thy Courage calls thee at any time to War, either of thy own accord, or with our Master, that thou permit me to be partaker of thy labours and thy hazards as I desire to be of thy Laurels, and thy Palms. On these Conditions I am ready to obey, and follow thee in life or death.  
Numerian no less Ravished at the Spirit and Courage of this Maid, than with her Beauty, agreed to all she desired; and the Young Duke Honoured the Marriage with such Pomp and Magnificence▪ that he could not have expended more liberally at the Marriage of his own Sister. Thus they passed some Years Rich in Wealth and Children, when the Wars of Hungary a Kingdom bordering on Silesia, came to disturb this Calm. The Prince being called by the Emperor, had a great Command in the Army, unto which he went with a Train befitting his Greatness, and attended by Numerian and Rosana, who would not be persuaded by any Arguments to stay behind, but dressing herself in Man's Apparel, Accompanied her Master and Husband to the Army.  
One day the Prince was commanded to make an assault upon the Enemy in one of his Quarters, which he did, (attended by Numerian and Rosana, who never left him in the most dangerous encounters) with more bravery than Success; for on a sudden he was encompassed by the Turks, and in great hazard of losing his Life, or being taken Prisoner: Then did the great Love of Rosana appear fired with Fury, who like a raging Tigress, ran herself upon the Weapons of the Handlers to Rescue the beloved Sapor, Numerian wrought no less miracles with his devouring Sword, for his Rosana's preservation, than she had done for Sapours. At last the Prince recovered his safety, and these two Lovers found themselves surrounded with Enemies, who summoned them to lay down their Arms, whereunto their great Courages replied boldly, they were never used to such dishonourable Terms, and pressing into the midst of them, either to break through, or die in the attempt, were both Killed, Numerian fell first, and Rosana after she had given sufficient marks of her undaunted Courage, and fully revenged her Husband's Death, was run through the body by a janisary, and her soul sent to be for ever happy with Numerian's in a blessed Eternity. The skirmish being ended she was found among the Dead, with her Husband, and after they knew she was a Woman, they that felt her strokes did more admire her Valour.  
The sorrow and grief of Sapor cannot be expressed, which he took in this loss; He sent for the two Bodies, that he might yield to their Ashes (which he watered with his Tears) some Testimony of his Friendship: He caused them to be carried into Silesia where he spared no cost to make their Funerals sumptuous, and caused a stately Tomb to be erected over them, to preserve their Memories to posterity as long as Marble can last.  In the Precedent Histories, we may behold the Glorious Rewards and Triumphs of Friendship, wherein the chief Bonds of Amity and humane Society do consist, for without Friendship Mankind would be like Ravenous Wolves, destroyers of each other, as in the former Histories of Murders, we have had too many Fatal Examples. Friendship is the perfection of Prosperity, and support of Adversity; Which Alexander having experienced as a mighty truth, nohen he was asked by some, where his Treasures lay, Pointed to his Friends. The Pythagorians preferred Friendship, before all other good qualities, called it the Combination of all Virtues, and affirmed it to be the Uniting of Souls here on Earth, which is the preparative to the Heavenly Union, by this Divine Virtue, we may with Lot unawares, give entertainment to Angels upon Earth, at least we may expect with the foregoing examples to stand in a fair and bright Character in the Book of Fame, and Commence Stars of the greatest Magnitude with them above.   

THE Triumphs OF CHASTITY.  

HIST. I. Christiana.  
Christiana refuses the Embraces, and Rich proffers of the French King, and in her flight for England, was solicited to debauchery by De Boi Master of the French Vessel, to avoid whose lust She cast herself into the Sea, where she was taken up by Codrinus Vice Admiral of the English Navy, who in Regard of her great Chastity married her; The Lord Sebastian attempting to pollute her, was discovered, and afterwards slain, she after her Husband's decease, is married to the Duke of Guise.  
FOR the further encouragement of Virtue, after those Glorious instances of Friendship, 'twill not be improper to present the (Courteous Reader) with some examples of Chastity, which have Crowned the Memories of those Famed Persons with immortality and honour, in which thou may'st as in a mirror behold the Beauty and reward of the Resplendent Virtue of Chastity, as in the former Histories, thou seest the deformity and punishment of that raging sin of Adultery, whereby thou may'st be persuaded to follow the Dictates and Precepts of the one, as thou wouldst shun the evil consequence, which attend the other. As Beauty without Chastity is like unto Mandrake Apples comely to the Eye but Poisonous in taste, so Chastity is the Beauty of the Soul, and Purity of Life, which despiseth the corrupt pleasures of the Flesh, and is on-only po●ed of those who keep their Bodies clean and undefiled, which consisteth either in sincere Virginity, or faithful Matrimony; But Chastity is most cospicious when surrounded with dangers, and then deservedly lays claim to the most chaste and pure joys of a happy Eternity.  
But I proceed to the Story.  
AT Tours (chief City of Touraine, a Province which is said to be the Garden of France, seated on the Loire,) lived Mounsieur de Cadez, a private Gentleman, who by his Wife had one only Daughter, by name Christiana, whom Heaven had blest with so vast a share of Beauty, that she was the admiration and discourse not only of her Native City, but likewise of the Court, and often solicited by the King (with the promises and certainty of great Wealth and Dignities) to be the pleasure of his Bed, but the no less Virtuous than Beauteous Christiana, esteeming the honour of her Chastity, far above the Dignities of an Empire, renounced to purchase such shadows of Glory with the Pollution of her Soul, whose Virtue she knew would Crown her, not only with Honours here, but Immortality hereafter, with these virtuous meditations her purer Soul pierced Heaven, & there took prospect of those far greater dignities which would reward her Chastity. Long had this Family of Mounsieur de Cadez lived at Tours in the favour & respect of all Men, blest with his virtuous, & chaste Christiana whose Beauty & Virtue, (it being rumoured, how she had refused the Embraces of the King,) drew after her many adorers who both by plain addresses and subtlety, vainly endeavoured to win her, some to their lawful bed, some to their lewder Arms. At length in the Reign of King Charles the 9 th'. Anno D●m. 1562. The Persecution being sore in Tours, De Boi the Master of a French Ship induced more by his Lust to Christiana than his love to the Unhappy Family of De Cadez, promised to set them safe on the English shore, with some others who fled from the rage of the Persecutors. De Cadez and his Wife kindly accepting so vast a favour, which should protect them from the hand of the devouring Tyrants, took with them some of their lighter possessions, their Gold and Silver Plate, bequeathing the rest to the said Mounsieur de Boi, to whose mercy they owed both their Estate and Lives, and embarked that evening. De Boi (whose Lust admitted of no Bounds) when he had sailed 50 Leagues from shore, was not able longer to contain, but thus addressed himself; Madam, to me you owe this great Protection from the Sword and Fire, thus far my Mercy hath secured your Parents, all this I did not for the hope of gain, 'twas you fair Lady did induce me to it, your Eyes with mighty Charms did plead so strongly, I could not but be merciful. Sir replies the modest Christiana My Parents & myself, still own these Favours, a grateful Spirit cannot soon forget such mighty Obligations, and doubtless well pleased, Heawill reward that Charitable Virtue. Alas fair Lady! (returns De Boi,) leave not so small a debt for Heaven to pay, since you can fully make me satisfaction, let me embrace the body I protected, and bless your Worshipper with happiness. Christiana perceiving his passion, and that her refusing his Lustful motions, might endanger the Liberty of her Parents, begged of him to grant her one hours' consideration, and she would prepare herself for his embraces. He transported with this answer, believing it to be no other than real, admitted her the time. Christiana whose (Chastity could not digest so base and dishonourable an Action, yet tenderly affecting the safety of her Parents, whom she must either expose to his Mercy, or admit of his lewdness,) knew not what to do in this her greatest extremity; therefore consulting with her Father, was advised according to her wish, rather to suffer Death than defame her Honour. Christiana Triumphed, now since her Parents could without much Reluctancy, choose to see her die a Martyr for her Chastity, rather than live with Infamy and dishonour to the Name and Family of De Cadez; therefore recommending herself to the Diviner powers, committed her body to the mercy of the Seas, without the hopes of Life, but we see despair is some time the ground of hope: as when the darkness of the night is thickest, than the morning begins to dawn, thus the extremity of Christiana's Misery was at the height when she had the prospect of some relief, for Codrinus a Noble Man of England, who then Road Vice-Admiral of the British Seas, perceiving at some small distance, a Woman struggling with the Waves, compassionately received her into his ship, and upon her Information of the Villainous design, which forced her to prefer death before life with defilement, he sailed up to De Boi's Vessel, demanding Mounsieur De Cadez and his Wife, and the others which fled from the Persecution bound for England. De Boi whose Conscience accused him, knowing Codrinus to be the British Vice-Admiral, a Soldier of an undaunted Spirit, and a singular Respecter of honourable Actions, without disputing the Case delivered them, whom Codrinus first received, and then with two broadsides, sufficiently corrected the insolence of De Boi, and so sailed forward for England. This deed being of so generous a Nature, obliged them all to admire Codrinus, & especially Christiana who with her all conquering Charms, had wounded the Vice▪ Admiral there, where the searching Cannon ne'er had found a passage. He gazed with admiration on her Beauty, and though her misery had reduced her to a Poverty, yet he knew not how to resist the powerful Charms of Love, In conclusion, he addressed himself to the beauteous Virgin, who being equally affected wish his Heroic Actions, not biased by Interest, and well pleased with his sweetness and fluency of language, the excellency of his Courteous and affable Demeanour, admitted an easy Victory upon honourable Terms. Codrinus (being now arrived at Court, as happy, as so short a time could make him,) made great preparation for his nuptial solemnities, the Consummation of their bliss. The appointed day being come, and dinner ended, the Wine flowed merrily round: in the h●ight of their Mirth, Christiana's remarkable passages of her Life, & the wonderful Vindication of her Honour, being the general discourse of the Table, my Lord Sebastian after the retirement of Christiana told Codrinus, he would engage a 100 Pound, that she would admit him into her bed that evening, and that he would enjoy those pleasures which he had reserved for his own Appetite. The Vice-Admiral who was willing rather to improve Mi●th than disturb the Company, merrily accepted of the Terms propounded. No sooner had Christiana entered her Bridal Bed, expecting Codrinus the blessing of her Arms, but Sebastian without attendants, came into the Chamber, and undressing himself, so surprised Christiana that she shrieked out, ask him the reason of his rudeness, he answered, what mean you Madam, how am I rude, do you not know your Lord, Christiana who was certain it was not the Vice-Admiral, both by his shape and voice, cried out a Rape, Murder, a Rape, at which Codrinus and the Company, which were at the door ready, burst in, seeming very much incensed with Sebastian, and threatening to chastise his Insolence, dismissed him, who pleaded a mistake, and that he thought his Wife now reposed in that Chamber (as formerly she had done,) which Codrinus acknowledged to be the truth. Next day the Vice-Admiral went to demand the 100 l. forfeited by my Lord Sebastian. Sebastian readily confessed it due, and wiled his Servant to pay it to Codrinus, in the mean time his merry humour was turned into a real Lust, and he took this Opportunity of soliciting the Lady, who was still in her honour, as invulnerable as ever, therefore finding his attempts in vain, returned to the Vice-Admiral, who after the receipt of the Money, not willing to carry it off, presented it to Sebastian's Lady, Sebastian thankful for the favour, loaded the Vice-Admiral, with too much Wine, and that evening, in disguise, attempted once more to win the chaste Christiana but was by her Steward (who found him in a private Room, next the Lady's Bed Chamber) suspected for some Robber, & there slain. The Excess of Wine which Codrinus drank, cast him into a fever, of which he died, & Christiana whose honourable Name, had travailed to the utmost Coasts of Fame, was afterwards married to the Duke of Guise, with whom she lived long and happily.  'Tis said of Eve, that her greatest misery on Earth, was that she had too lustfully affected the forbidden fruit, when only charmed with an exterior beauty, the Virtuous Christiana considering this mighty truth, would not admit of the Serpent's various temptations to taste the forbidden Pleasures, though fairly guilded with the outward gaudiness of Imperial Dignities; She considered that her Lust might by chance make her seem great upon Earth, but was certain that her Chastity mould entitle her to Honour amongst the Angels in Heaven.  

HIST. II. Of Samina.  
Romindus (after a close Siege) having taken the Castle of N—, attempted a Rape upon the Lady Samina, but she is rescued by the Lord Arminius, who is afterwards espoused to her. Romindus in another attempt fires the House where the Lady Samina lay, by which means conveying himself into her Chamber, he would have defiled her: but she to preserve her Chastity, stabs herself with his Dagger: He finding himself defeated, murdered himself by her side.  
IN the time of the late Rebellion, Romindus (for under that Name I shall disguise him) who was one of the chief Agitators of the unhappy Civil Wars, laid close Siege to the Castle of N—, whose Noble Lord and Governor (Earl Lucius) hath by his Loyalty and Valour left his Name firm in the Records of Glory. Romindus (whose factious, base, and treacherous spirit rendered him odious to the Family of Lucius) inspired with a particular malice, upon his Daughter Samina's slighting him, resolved (if possible) to make the Castle their Funeral Pile, and Samina's blood a Sacrifice to his Revenge, since he could not violate her Honour, that Guardian Angel of her Chastity. Therefore with a strong Power, after the effusion of much blood, (Lucius and his small Army being toiled in defence) he entered the Castle, took Lucius and his Lady Prisoners, and searching for Samina, found her at her Devotions in her Closet; and now imagining that to save her Parents from the Sword, the Castle from Flames, and herself from certain Death, she would prostitute her Honour to his Lust, with a smooth speech he a●taqu'd her in this manner: Why are you so unkind, fair Lady, cruel to me, your Parents, and yourself? You that have Charms enough to soften Rocks, why (Madam) are you so obdurate? Say not hereafter, that I am bloody; it is for You this heap of dead have perished, for You such Seas of blood do flow on every side; 'twas You that raised these storms within me, and Your Beauty drew the hot-brained Soldier on; Your Beauty set an edge to every Sword. Oh powerful Woman! O wonderworking Charms! Yet see, fair Lady, low as your feet the Conqueror lies down. I sheathe my satiated Sword; the angered God of War I banish hence; I am all soft as Love; Oh then be kind. Samina (whose Devotion he interrupted) started up from her knees on a sudden, and with an austere countenance said, Hence thou Curse of Nature, thy Lust is hotter than the flames of Hell that wait thee. Sayest thou so, my scornful Lady? doth the aspect of grim Death seem no more terrible than so? Madam, your Father's blood perhaps may soften you; your Mother too shall die; the Infants who are Innocent shall not escape my Sword; and You, obdurate Lady, who affect such a Religious Pride, shall first submit to my Embraces, and then shall be a common Strumpet to my Soldiers. But still your Beauty moves me to compassion: If you will save your life, your Parents, and the Infants, 'tis in your power: speak quickly Madam. Yes (replies she) I will speak quickly, for consideration cannot move Samina swerve from the Rules of Virtue. If they must perish, 'tis not in my power to purchase their ransom: You ask too large a price: I cannot give my Honour for their Lives; but yet be merciful. Yes Lady, since you waken my revenge, I'll show you mercy presently; and drawing his Sword in a great fury, went down, designing first to present her with her Father's ●ead, and by degrees of cruelty win her to his arms. But see the interposing Providence of Heaven which protected them in the extremity of danger; for e'er he could accomplish his design, the King's Party, under the Command of my Lord Arminius, (whom the Earl had sent for) came in to their aid, and with such a violent onset assaulted the scattered Army of Romindus, that he overthrew them in an instant, destroying 1300, and putting the rest to flight, among which Romindus escaped. My Lord Arminius was with wonderful joy received by the Earl, who informing him of the Treachery and Lust of Romindus, (from whose Sword he had protected him) added, that his Estate and Life were at his Lordship's service. Arminius, who had long respected Samina, found his desire now more eager than ever, and therefore took this opportunity of urging his Love to her, which Samina and her Parents out of gratitude soon and thankfully accepted of. The Earl, whose Estate was larger than my Lords, blest him with a considerable Dowry with her, and the Nuptials were solemnised out of hand. The Charms of this chaste and beautiful Samina still drew after her many Admirers, whose Lust could not admit of limitation, though they knew her fixed, like Heaven, above the reach of the Damned, the Gulf of Marriage being betwixt them; but with the same constancy, the same loyalty to her Honour, renounced them all with scorn and detestation. After the happy Restauration of His Majesty, Romindus (who had hid himself from the stroke of Justice) despairing of mercy from his too much injured Monarch, and wanting a supply of moneys to maintain him in his concealment, knew not what course to take, his Life and Conscience being equally burdensome. Long he wavered, doubting what to do, till at length, by the suggestion of the Devil, his malice to Arminius who defeated him, and his equal Lust and Envy to Samina, whose Charms had tempted and deluded him, he resolved to enjoy her yet, to be revenged and die; but fearing the Courage of my Lord Arminius, in whose Arms she lived secure, he employed a servant with a counterfeit Letter to my Lord, to acquaint him that his Father was near the point of Death, anh required him to attend him that evening, as he valued his Blessing. The Earl surprised at the News, little suspected the villainous design of Romindus, neither did he believe the message to be other than real, therefore took Horse with some few Servants, and with all speed posted away to Court. Romindus (then but one mile distant from the Abbey where Samina was left to the charge of some Gentlemen) soon received the news of my Lord's departure for Court, and in the dusk of the evening set ●ire to the outer Buildings and Stables, which so surprised the Family, that all regardless of their Lady, ran out to secure what they might, and defend the Abbey from the flames; but, alas! the hottest fire was within, for his design working to his will, he watched this opportunity of taking possession of Samina in the Abbey, and securing the doors after him, he applied himself to the Lady; at the appearance of whom she swooned away, but in a small time recovered, and said Oh bloody Villain! is there no limit to your Lust and Treachery?— No talking▪ Madam, (says Romindus) your Charms which softened me before, made me delay, and ru●n'd me; but now they shall not interrupt me. Madam, I come o'r-gorged with Fury and Revenge; be patient, for you shall submit: Your Beauty shall plead no more; Rapine and Slaughter both attend. And thus saying, drew a Dagger. The Lady shrieking, was overheard by some of her Servants, who making up towards the door, found it shut, and thought that she might have shut it to secure herself. The Fire being now extreme violent, gave them reason to fear the ruin of the Abbey, which made them all very busy and laborious to extinguish it, which could not be done without much noise and clamour. This pleased Romindus well▪ for their tumult drowned the cries of Samina, whom he had wounded in several places, (though not mortally) imagining that the sense of torture might move her to admit of his Embraces; but all was without effect, for with how much the greater violence and severity he used her, with so much the greater constancy and chastity of spirit she renounced him. After a great reluctancy, recovering a Dagger from his hand, she said, You base and ignominious wretch, dost think that Heaven cannot free me from thy lewd Embraces? Yes; thus▪ thus (stabbing herself) I set myself at liberty▪ My Honour far outweighs my Life, and my blood shall cool the fire that burns within thee: and thus speaking died. When Romindus had seen the firmness and Chastity of Samina, he turned his Revenge upon himself and with the same Dagger stabbed himself, where he was found after the extinction of the fire, with so much life remaining in him as to satisfy the spectators with a relation of this Tragical History and then expired, breathing out his polluted Soul by the side of the chaste and beauteous Samina, who is left upon Record to future Ages, as an eminent and virtuous defender of her Honour.  
Thus the Virtue of Samina was most conspicuous and resplendent in her greatest extremity, who rather chose the chaste Embraces of a cold Grave, than the hot polluted Arms of lustful Romindus. In honour of whom an English Poet thus writeth: 
When sinful Man from Paradise was driven,  
Th'Almighty sent his Angel down from Heaven,  
To guard the Tree of Life with Sword of Flame,  
Against all who thither on Presumption came.  
But Fair Samina (whose forbidden Tree  
Could not by Lustful Man defiled be)  
Had no such flaming Sword sent down from Heaven  
To guard her, when into Temptation driven;  
Her Virtue and her Honour were more great,  
Which rather than foul Lust should separate,  
In Death courageously sh'outbraved her Fate:  
For when the Tempter fiercely did pursue,  
She stabbed her tender Breast, and upwards flew,  
To those unspotted Virgin Spirits above,  
Who live in a most chaste refined Love.    

HIST: III: The Virtuous Imbrigis:  
The chaste Imbrigis is contracted to Sueno, but by the compulsion of her Father is married to Helga, a rich old man. The Baron of Fobroch afterwards falls in love with her, and bribe's her Husband that he might make an attempt upon her Chastity. Imbrigis kills the Baron who went about to ravish her, and stabs herself: She recovers, and marries Sueno after the Death of her Husband.  
IN the Reign of Christiern the fourth, King of Denmark, lived in Copenhagen, chief City of that Kingdom, seated in the Isle of Zealand, and usual residence of its Kings, a rich old Burgher, who had two Daughters, the elder named Helda, the younger Imbrigis, both very beautiful Ladies, though of so different inclinations, that it seemed a Prodigy for one Womb to produce such different fruits. Helda was as lustful as she was fair, placing her greatest pleasure abroad and in company: Imbrigis as chaste as beautiful, and most delighted at home in the contemplation of Virtue, and enjoyment of a solitary retirement.  
These two different Beauties being ripe for Marriage, were both severally courted; but the excellent Beauty and Virtues of Imbrigis had more attractions than the Face and Riches of Helda; however the Father resolved to marry the Elder first, and accordingly disposed of her to Ericus, a Gentleman of great Estate, who had some little kindness for Helda, but more for her Dower; and she more regard to his rich Possessions and Lordships, than his Person: however the Match was concluded, and the Marriage consummated; but true love appeared not at this Hymen, neither would the Blessing of Heaven attend upon such Marriages: they both lived together in Adultery, spending the remainder of their days in Discord and Infamy.  
And now the old Burgher having disposed of his eldest and most beloved Daughter, he began to think of a match for the youngest, in which he resolved to consult more his own judgement and convenience, than his Daughter's affection and liking. He had bestowed so large a Portion on his beloved Helda, that he much straightened the Fortune of Imbrigis, and could not expect any great and rich Husband for her, unless such a one should be extraordinarily smitten with Love, or some great disparity in their years; however the Virtues and excellent Graces of Imbrigis had rendered her desirable to several persons of a suitable condition, but none were so agreeable to the humour of the old Burgher as to obtain his approbation, till Fortune and blind Love brought one as unsuitable to the Youth of the Daughter, as he was acceptable to the covetous mind of the Father.  
An ancient grave Doctor named Helga, a Widower, and one of the Heads of the College of Sora in that Island, being sent by the University to Court, the Wheel of his Coach broke as he passed by the door of the old Burgher, who (being in his Porch) invited the Doctor into his house whilst the Coach was making fit, which Helga readily accepted, and there first saw the lovely and virtuous Imbrigis, whose Wit and Beauty had such powerful Charms over him, that notwithstanding the Snow which covered his head, and the chillness of sixty Winters that had benumbed his flesh, he found the Ice which the Frost of Age had congealed about his heart begin to melt, and all the fiery passions of a youthful Lover play in his breast, which he strove to lay with Stoical Maxims and prudent Morals; but all proved weak and defenceless against the more powerful Artillery of Love; he finds his youthful thoughts to spring up anew, and the Image of the beautiful and modest Imbrigis never from his sight, which makes him renew his visits, till by daily converse his f●ames increasing, he was forced to declare to her Father his passion, and the desire he has of making her his Wife, who readily embraced his motion, and commanded his Daughter to entertain him as her Lover.  
And now this grave Doctor is become a Child again, ridiculously acting over at threescore all the follies of a youthful Lover: He makes court to this young Virgin of nineteen, plays with her Hands, looks old Babies in her Eyes, discourses to her of Love, Fire, and Flame, and makes Verses and Sonnets in praise of her Wit and Beauty. But whilst he thus plays the Lover and Gallant, she seems to act the Stoic and Philosopher, by representing to him the evil effects which such unequal Marriages might produce, tells him his flame will soon vanish and decay, and that his Love is but an ignis fatuus, a wand'ring and erroneous fire, that will lead him at last into a thousand inconveniences, and precipitate him into the Pit of Jealousy; that though she should be never so vigilant and circumspect over her actions, his Age and her Youth would give grounds for the world to asperse her Honour, though never so white and innocent; that she could not have any passion for him, and that without Love Marriage would be a double Yoke and intolerable Burden. But Helga was deaf to these speeches, to the great grief of the modest and virtuous Imbrigis, who had a God to wrestle with that made fools of wise men, and Children of Philosophers; a God that had enkindled a more bright and Celestial flame in her breast, than in the heart of the grave Doctor, which made his Deformity apparent, and the Commands of her Father more terrible.  
Amongst the many Conquests which her Beauty & Virtue had obtained, and that seemed to stand first in her esteem and favour of the number of those who made their Addresses and Courtship to her, was Sueno, a young Gentleman of a comely Personage, and nobly descended, though a younger Brother, and of mean Fortune, (being at that time an Ensign in the Castle of Cronnembergh) yet in regard of the constant and sincere love he bore to the chaste and virtuous Imbrigis, had the happiness to be at last blest with a reciprocal and mutual affection from her, and so far prevailed upon her as to gain her consent to the uniting of their hearts in sacred Matrimony so soon as her Father's approbation should be obtained. But they both solicited the old Burgher in vain, for he would by no means hear the suit of a needy Soldier, but more eagerly pressed forward the match with old Helga his Rival, whom Fortune and blind Love had now brought to interrupt his Amours. All this the prudent Imbrigis was sensible of, neither was she ignorant of the covetous inclinations of her Father; she therefore discreetly began to lessen the hopes of Sueno, doubting her Duty and Obedience must take place of Love, for she was informed by her Father that he had concluded the match with Helga, that her Portion and Jointure was settled, and the day prefixed for the solemnisation of their Nuptials, who commanded her to prepare for the Wedding. However she was resolved first to take her farewell and last meeting of her beloved Sueno, which she performed the night before her Marriage. What passed betwixt these two Lovers was very moving and tender, and poor Sueno received her last farewell with as great emotion of Spirit as a condemned Criminal his Sentence of Death; however he was persuaded to preserve that Life which was not unpleasing to her.  
After the celebration of their Nuptials, Helga returns to Sora, and carries with him his beautiful and chaste Wife, who would have been prized as a greater Treasure by any other person than the covetous Miser, whose short-lived flame was too violent to continue: His Age at length declares him impotent, yet the virtuous Imbrigis was most delighted when she could contrive any thing to the content and pleasure of her Husband, and declared she should enjoy more satisfaction with him (since they were espoused) at a slender entertainment, than to swim in the most luxurious Plenty of a Seraglio.  
And now I shall proceed to show you the many trials and temptations she resisted by her Heroic actions, which made bright her Virtues, and illuminated her Glory.  
Her former Lover Sueno (by the death of his elder Brother) is become Lord of a plentiful Estate at Helsemore, where he now resides, refusing many rich Matches and beautiful Ladies, whose Charms could not deface the Image he bore in his mind of the virtuous and chaste Imbrigis, whom he esteemed as a Jewel of greater worth than all his Lands and rich Possessions. And now he rides over to Sora, to enjoy a sight of this beautiful Image which so frequently represented itself before him, and to inform her both of his good fortune, and firm resolution of living only for her, still hoping that the declining Winter of Age will at last give place to the spring of Youth, and that he shall be made happy in the possession of his Love: But his journey was in vain, for all his Artifices and Stratagems to speak with his beloved Imbrigis were defeated; she would neither be seen nor spoke to by him, as doubting that the former sparks of her affection might re-kindle at his sight. He returned therefore to Helsemore, but before his departure made shift to get this following Letter conveyed into her hands.  
Sueno, to Imbrigis.  
THough I die by your cruelty, Divine Imbrigis, I cannot but admire your Virtue: and whilst I blame your severity, I praise your prudence and caution; but methinks the constancy and purity of my affection might have pleaded in my behalf, and have induced you to have permitted a visit without believing it criminal; however, since 'tis your pleasure that I leave Sora without seeing you, my presence shall no longer disturb your repose. Remember me then no more, but let me be placed among the Dead in Oblivion. Let the remembrance of this Letter be razed out of your mind, if it be any trouble to you, though indicted by the greatest passion, and most pure and constant affection; for since your severity hath banished me your heart and memory, it shall also banish me the World and Life, which is the firm resolution of your Faithful  
Sueno.  
This passionate Letter mollified the heart of Imbrigis, and tears melted in her eyes, when considering her severity had brought him into despair, and might endanger his life, if not timely remedied; she resolved to send him an Answer to his Letter, which she thought she might do without any breach of conjugal Faith, or transcurring the bounds limited to Wedlock, and accordingly returned this following Reply.  
Imbrigis, to Sueno.  
YOU ought not, Sueno, so much to admire, as approve my severity, since 'tis only the effect of Virtue. Did I not know the purity of your affection, I should not have returned you an Answer; but since the brightness of your flame has yielded a light whereby I have read the integrity of your heart▪ I will believe favourably of the visit you intended me, and that you meant nothing but what was just and honourable. But I entreat you not to call my scrupulous Virtue, Cruelty, and my Denial, Tyranny; for could I have been either Cruel or Tyrannous, I might have spoke to you, and seen you. No, Sueno, 'tis the too great compassion I feel in my soul, and the too great mistrust I have of myself, that makes me seem thus severe, and not any doubt of your Virtue. Return therefore with more favourable thoughts, and with all those hopes that have hitherto supported you, and believe that I wish you all the felicity the best of your Friends can wish you; and know also, that I will not forget you, but remember you as much as I can without rendering myself criminal; and believe also, that your D●●●h would give as much trouble, as your Life gives content and satisfaction to  
Imbrigis.  
Sueno having received this Answer, which gave ease to his troubled Spirits, returned to Sora with some satisfaction, when contemplating and admiring the Virtue of Imbrigis, some good genius inspired him with hopes, and assured him he should one day be happy in the fruition of that chaste and Virtuous Lady.  
Imbrigis is well pleased with the departure of her beloved Sueno, as hoping now to enjoy an undisturbed repose; But, alas! her hopes are vain, she must yet undergo a harder task, her Chastity must yet shine brighter▪ by resisting the assaults and batteries made upon her Virtue; she has hitherto only encountered with a virtuous and chaste Love in Sueno, who is rather a Son of Urania, than Venus: but now she will be exposed to the fury of one sullied with impurity.  
The Baron of Fobrock, who lived in a very stately Palace not far distant from Sora, (a person very eminent at Court, and in great favour with the King,) having several times seen the virtuous Imbrigis at Church, was more attentive upon her Beauty, than his Devotions, the splendour and beams of which had heated his Breast with a lustful and impure fire.  
Greatness begets respect, and commands an entrance into almost all places; the doors of Helga, which were shut to almost all the world, were opened to Fobroch, and Helga thought himself honoured by the visits of the Baron, whom he entertains with freedom and joy, hoping by the favour and friendship of this Nobleman and Courtier to obtain great advancement. It was not long ere the lustful Baron acquainted the cha●t and virtuous Imrigis with his Love, and made many rich Presents to her, not doubting but she would surrender her heart upon the first summons; he believed the Beauty of Imbrigis, and the Age and Covetousness of Helga, would prove Traitors within doors, and easily give him admittance into the Fort and Heart of his Mistress; that the Guards of Duty and Honour were weak against such potent Adversaries, and where Love was not Commander, he might have an easy Victory. But he was much surprised to meet with such stout resistance from the virtuous Imbrigis, who received his Courtships and Addresses with disdain, refused his Presents, and avoided his Company as a Pestilence, however he takes a review of this impregnable Fort, but finds no other access than by the covetous and sordid humour of Helga: He therefore feeds him with hopes of great Preferment, and finding him a great lover of Play, (whilst on the winning side) he designedly, whenever he came to visit Helga, lost ten or twenty Crown-pieces of Gold, which so much rejoiced the heart of the old man, that the sight of this Lord was as desirable to him as an Angel, and Imbrigis solicited him in vain not to entertain the Baron so often, entreating him to let her retire to her Fathers, or some other place in the Country, whilst the Baron continued in those parts, lest his frequent visits might blemish her Honour, and blast her Reputation: But perceiving him instead of discouraging her new Lover, give him fresh opportunities to court her under the colour of Play, Imbrigis was at last forced to discover to him the Barons dishonourable intentions, and sedulous Courtships, that he was in love with her, and had attempted her Love and Chastity. But the sweetness of winning the Baron's Gold took away the bitterness of Jealousy, And the virtuous Imbrigis seeing that Helga knew not how to guard her Honour, was the more circumspect herself: She therefore (whenever Fobrock came to the house) immediately locked herself up in her Chamber, or went to a Neighbour's house, and neither the entreaties of the Baron, or commands of her Husband, could obtain her presence.  
But the Baron finding the effects which Gold had over old Helga's heart, and that 'twas rather his Wife's Chastity and Prudence than his Jealousy, put a stop to, and obstructed his sight of that beautiful Object, he resolves to bribe the covetous old man, and so purchase the dishonour of his Wife; in order to which, he invites Helga over to his own Palace, and (his Lady being gone to the Spa in Germany for the recovering of her health) there they diverted themselves with Tables as they used to do, when the Baron having one day drawn aside this old Dotard from all Company, he carries him into a Chamber, where on several Tables he had laid one by one 20000 pieces of Gold, most of them Crown-pieces, and having fastened the door 〈◊〉 him sit down before this Golden Idol, 〈◊〉 he knew 〈◊〉 worshipped in his heart, and told him, That he might by an easy Purchase, if he pleased, bec●me Master of all that Gold. Helga was not backward to ●●quire which way? to which question the Baron 〈◊〉, That he must confess he was passionately in l●ve with his Wife, that he had courted and solicited her 〈◊〉 times, though without that success some young and brisker Gallant might probably be blest with, and at an easier purchase than he could expect; for he knew that a person who had seen the change and vicisitudes of sixty Winters, could not always satisfy the craving desires of Youth; That he would exchange all that Gold (a real substance) with him, for one night's lodging with his Wife, which was no more than a transitory Pleasure, and pay one moiety now down, (if he consented) and the other half when the business was effected.  
Helga (whose eyes were dazzled at the sight of this Golden Idol) after a short pause made answer, That he had taken a fair (though unusual) course to obtain his desires; for since the Wife, her Honour, and Chastity, is the Husbands own and proper Goods, it was the better and more lawful way to have them by the Husband's consent, than to purloin them by corrupting the Wife, which without the Husband's knowledge was underhand dealing, and not lawfully purchased; that he was sensible he had bid him fairly, and like a Chapman, and therefore he was willing to accept his proffer, conditionally that he would keep it as a secret not only from the world, but his Wife also, which if he observed, he would give his consent and assistance.  
The Baron at the ending of his discourse embraced the old man, and promised to perform the condition required, and the bargain being concluded, Helga returns with 10000 Crowns, laughing at the folly of the prodigal Baron; he shows the Gold to his Wife Imbrigis, as so much won at play, which she little thought to be the purchase of her Honour and Chastity.  
Within a few days Helga visits the Baron, where all things being in readiness, as they before had contrived, late in the evening Imbrigis receives her Husband's Ring with a message from him, that he was taken with a desperate fit of sickness, and that she should by that Token know it was his desire to have her come to him immediately in the Baron's Coach, which he had sent for her: Imbrigis concluded her Husband to be dying, and out of duty went with the messenger in the Baron's Coach, though not without some reluctancy, as fearing it might be some trick of the Barons, whose Palace she arrived at in the evening, and was lighted up stairs by the Servants, then conducted into a very stately Chamber richly adorned and sweetly perfumed, in which were several Lights, and in the midst a rich embroidered ●ed, etc. The Servants withdraw, and whilst she steps to the Bed to seek her Husband, supposing him sick and laid there, she spies the Baron enter the Room, and shut the door fast. Then 'twas that the brave and heroic Imbrigis (finding herself betrayed, and the Baron approaching towards her with eager steps and open arms) flew swiftly to the window, and (to preserve her Honour & Chastity unblemished) violently dashed her head against the glass, and had already got half of her body through the breach, when the amazed Baron caught hold of her Garments, and pulled her back, though not without her face being cut and battered by the glass, the affright putting her in a trance, that she remained senseless, and as one dead, in the arms of the vicious Baron, who having laid her on the ●ed, went to bereave her of her Honour and Chastity; but the violence he used in the attempt brought her to herself again, when beholding the rude approaches of the lustful Baron, she shrieks out, and struggling with both her hands, one of those Guardian Angels that attend on weak Innocency and assaulted Chastity, guided her hand to a Dagger that hung at the side of the Ravisher, with which she fir●● gave him a mortal wound and then lodged the fatal s●e●l in her own chaste and virtuous Breast, to let out that blood she mistook to be polluted by the Baron.  
The ●oise they made in this bloody skirmish, and the fall of their wounded bodies from the Bed, alarmed the Servants, who attending at the door, rush in, and behold this fatal sight with amazement.  
The Chirurgeons having dressed both their wounds, that of the Barons proved mortal, and he died within three days full of penitence and trouble for the evil he had caused to the chaste and virtuous Imbrigis: But Heaven had a greater care of that brave Woman, the Dagger had not touched her Intellects, and she recovered after some days. The Baron before he died acquitted Imbrigis of his death before his Servants, and asked her pardon for the injury he had done her, his Soul being now refined from that Lust which before had engendered about his heart. He confessed likewise the business of Helga, who considering the shame and ignominy his ill-made bargain had cast on his Honour and Reputation, took it so to heart, that before Imbrigis could recover of her wounds he died, and left her a rich Widow.  
And now the hopes of the faithful Sueno revive, who had heard of the heroic action of his adored Imbrigis; and at last Heaven took pity of his constant sufferings, and rewarded his faithful Love; for after Imbrigis had paid what was due to decency and the memory of her Husband, and remained ●welve months a Widow, she was married to Sueno, both ●●ending their days in the fruition of their chaste Loves▪ he blest in a chaste and loyal Wife, she happy in a faithful and loving Husband.  As the charming pleasures of Innocence and serenity of mind, are visible inhabitants of th●se hearts consecrated to Virgin Chastity; so in respect of its prevalency over the minds of its Votaries, it makes ripe● age continue incontaminate, and the Matrimonial liberty undefiled, as we have seen in the precedent Example of the virtuous and constant Imbrigis.  

HIST. IV. Van Zwerts and Marinda.  
Jacob Van Zwerts, after many signal proofs of his Chastity, takes shipping for Spain, but in his Voyage is taken Prisoner by the Turks, and sold to Ali Pigget, a Turkish Merchant, whose Sister falling in love with Jacob, solicits him to Debauchery, and upon his refusal of her lewd Embraces, accuseth him of a Rape: Ali Pigget being sensible of her Treachery, first stabs her, then gives Van Zwerts his liberty, who soon after his arrival at Spain is married to the virtuous and beautiful Marinda, who by a notable Stratagem preserved her Chastity.  
NOt many years since at Rotterdam, a Port-Town in Holland, one of the United Provinces belonging to the States, lived jacob Van Zwerts, second Son to the Heer Van Zwerts, a very wealthy and creditable Merchant, of ancient and reputable Extraction. jacob Van Zwerts (whose Virtue and Chastity was as remarkable as any left upon the Records of Time) being weary of the Debaucheries of that City, to which he was often and frequently solicited by some extravagant Youths of his former acquaintance, did by the next opportunity resolve for Spain, whither he might retire with an intimate acquaintance of his Fathers, and reap the peaceable enjoyment of himself and his Virtue. While his Father was weighing the consequence of this design, the unpleasant News had reached the ears of the roaring Debauchees his late Companions, who having let lose the Reins of Sobriety and Virtue, had plunged themselves into the greatest Exorbitancy, and therefore nothing could be more unwelcome than the desertion of one of their beloved associates, on whom (as he was rich) they had some flattering hopes of dependence, and therefore were resolved, if possible, to convert him to themselves; to which end they sent for him in the names of some later Friends, (of whom he was less shy) to drink with him at the Sun-Tavern not far distant from his Fathers, not doubting thereby to prevent his Voyage to Spain. Van Zwerts (according to their request) went to them, where he found them caressing each one his Strumpet, and using even the most immodest and lewdest actions. They observed Van Zwerts, that his eye was fixed, and his countenance austere, as declaring the inward resentments of his mind; yet however they presented him with one of the most beautiful of their Company; but he declared his aversion to such lewdness, saying, Gentlemen, Have ye neither sense of Honour, Virtue, nor Conscience? Think ye that justice sleeps for ever? No, Heaven will be speedily moved, lay all its Mercy down, take up revenging Bolts of Thunder, and dash all such profligate offenders to inevitable ruin: Why then— But as he would have proceeded, they interrupted him, and said, What, Jacob, always preaching! will you never give over canting? Let dull Religious Fools, who never knew the sweets of stolen pleasures, be tied to the strict Rules of Virtue; but Love's a roving Libertine, scales the weak Battlements which Virtue raises, and tramples upon Honour, to obtain a place safe in the arms of Beauty. Alas! thou art lost, thou huntest after shadows, and followest imaginary Heavens, while we have ours in possession. 'Tis ill trusting to Castles in the Air, or, like Astrologers, have twelve Houses they know not where, yet never a one for themselves to live in. No, 'tis we alone enjoy Honour, Beauty, Happiness, and Heaven on Earth. To which jacob replied, O profane wretches! have you no remorse of conscience? what means— But they interrupting him, said, Go preach conscience to the Spaniard; 't might perhaps make him less proud, though no ways abate his amorous inclinations, for he'd love his Wench in spite of Fate, or twenty Consciences; and so dismissed him.  
Van Zwerts remained unshaken in his resolutions, and hastening his Voyage, embarked the night following, but e'er he had reached the Coasts of Spain, he was taken by a Turkish Pirate, (whose Power they were not able to resist) and straightway conveyed to Turkey, and (as Providence had appointed) sold Slave to Ali Pigget, a Turkish Merchant, formerly a correspondent of his Fathers, which Ali Pigget by questioning him concerning his Country, Education, and Extraction, found out, but did not discover it to Van Zwerts, only pretending civility on the account of his Learning, (for he was a good Linguist, and an excellent Penman and Accountant) he employed him as Steward of his house. Ali Pigget's eye was always severe and strict over Van Zwerts and his own Sister, (whose modesty he had reason to suspect) judging that she who had formerly so little respect to her Honour as to admit of the lewd embraces of a common Slave, would not be backward in promoting her lustful inclinations to such a qualified person as Van Zwerts; neither was his suspicion or jealousy in vain, for she omitted no opportunity of spreading her Charms to catch the heart of Van Zwerts, neither was she ashamed to tell him many times, that he was a person of the most winning and obliging good nature, that he had fired her heart, and she should never know any greater happiness than to be blest in his Embraces. Thus she often assaulted him, but found her amorous passion still defeated by the Chastity of the virtuous Van Zwerts; yet she resolved with all the power and Charms imaginable, and the strongest temptations of Lust, once more to besiege his Virtue, which she did in this manner.  
Ali Pigget being to ride out of Town some miles distant, about his Merchandise, she thought it her best and securest time to put in practice her unchaste design. Accordingly upon the departure of Ali Pigget she ordered Van Zwerts to wait on her at her Chamber within the space of half an hour at farthest: Van Zwerts (whose Honour was his guard) suspected not the lewd intentions of this Lady, but went into her Chamber, where finding her in bed, began to retire, when she called to him as to speak with him, and laying hold on his hand, said sighing, jacob, hast thou no sense nor compassion for a poor suffering Lover? must I for ever burn in the●e hot flames, and will you never yield to cool my passions? Fie! leave these youthful blushes, and come into thy Lover's arms.— Not for ten thousand worlds, replied Van Zwerts; and so striving to withdraw his hand, she turned her Lust to Revenge, crying out, A Rape! A Rape! Ali Pigget suspected her design, and therefore returned immediately after his departure, and concealed himself in the next Apartment to the Chamber they were in, he heard her lustful Courtship, and his chaste Answer, and upon her crying out went in, and with his Sword stabbed her in that Bed which she designed for the consummation of her Lust; and as a reward for Van Zwerts' Fidelity and Chastity, bade him ask any thing in his power, it should be granted him.  
jacob, who still longed to see Spain, begged (since his bounty did extend so far) that he would give him his liberty, and fit him for that Voyage. Ali Pigget (to whom Iacob's Father had sent 2000 Cobs for his Ransom) gave him his Liberty with his Ransom. Van Zwerts taking shipping, in a short time arrived at Spain, where he had not long resided ere he found his breast heated with Love, and his inclinations and affections tend towards the virtuous and fair Marinda, whose unblemished Chastity in Spain was most conspicuous, and spread far on the wings of Fame. She was indeed the Mirror of her Age, and had as large a share of Beauty as any in that Country could boast of, which probably might occasion her more temptations to try her Chastity, than others who were less beautiful; for in the Civil Wars, when Rapine was fierce and prevalent, and Virgins knew not by what means to resist or reclaim the extravagances of enraged Soldiers, she by a notable Stratagem (tho' very irksome to herself) preserved her Chastity, which she effected in this manner: Under her Armpits she placed raw Beef, and retained it there till by the heat of her body it became so loathsome that none could endure to come within her sight, much less endure her Embraces. The relation of this, and the like Triumphs of her Chastity, well pleased Van Zwerts, who after the formalities of Courtship (which he was well versed in) obtained her consent, and was espoused to her, returning shortly after to his Father's house in Rotterdam, who in a short time after his Sons return died, and left him Master of a plentiful Estate, upon which this chaste Couple lived many years happily. Such are the rewards of Heav●n here frequently to them who become strict Votaries of Chastity and Virtue.  Thus we have seen in divers Examples the eminent Rewards of Chastity, by the Mercy and Providence that attends upon Conjugal Faith, and Matrimonial Loyalty: for as Chastity, Friendship, and the other branches of a virtuous Life, do carry some part of their reward in the pleasure of their Performances, so Constancy and Perseverance in the same crowns our Fidelity with the consummation of a perfect and glorious Felicity.  
FINIS.   

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