THE AMOURS OF Bonne Sforza, QUEEN OF Polonia.  
LONDON, Printed by T. M. for R. Bently in Covent-Garden. 1684.   

TO THE Most Accomplished Lady, MADAM Mary-Elizabeth Manly.  
Madam,  
THis Title does so justly speak your Perfections in the great, that it may ease me of the Modish Labour of retailing them in this Epistle, & you of the trouble of reading the uneasy repetitions of these Elogyes (so nautious to generous minds, though never so deservedly expressed) which you daily receive from all parts. You, Madam, who are so remarkably known by your own Merits, that it is the same to dedicate to you, as to say, to the most virtuously accomplished Lady in the World. And though I am full of confidence, that if this wanton Queen, whose story I humbly present to you, were ever to have been reclaimed, it must have been through the benigned influence of so exemplary a Virgin as yours, I have taken the boldness to recommend this little Peace, not so much to your protection, as to the judicial censure of so absolute a Mistress of Languages, as you are Madam, in hopes that you will be a Judge as favourable, as you are decerning, in the endeavours of  
Madam, Your most Humble Servant, P. B.   

Advice to the READER.  
Reader,  
I Think that a Word of Advice concerning this Little Book, will not be altogether useless. There may be divers Persons, who not very learned in the Amorous Chronicles of Princes, would be ready to condemn that Liberty which I take of making the Gallant History of a Queen; but the Public may be informed, that She of whom I speak, has been according to the most sincere Historians, one of the Princes in the World, that has most caused herself to be spoken of, on the Account of Gallantising. And that towards the latter end of her days, having retired herself in her Duchy of Bar, situated in the Kingdom of Naples, She died there, in the Arms of Pappacoda her Lover, That the Last sigh she should send forth, might be a sigh of Love.  
It is easy to Judge from those faithful strokes of the Hystorian, if that the Adventures which I relate of this Princess are unjust, and whether it be Imposition to give her two or three Lovers, who were much more Worthy than her Pappacoda. As to what concerns the Bishop, I confess that there might be something of my own in those Incidents which I bestow on him. But besides that from all Ages, Persons of that Character have passed for the Children of Adam as well as others; We see by a great number of examples, that in this Age, they are not over much reform, and that men lay down their Humane frailtyes but with their Lives.   

A Catalogue of some Novels, Printed for R. Bentley and M. Magnes.  

1. ZElinda a famed Romance.  
2. Happy Slave, in three Parts.  
3. Count Brion.  
4. Count Gabales.  
5. Halige, or the Amours of the King of Tamaran.  
6. Mad. Laviler and the King of France.  
7. Mad. and the Duke of Guise.  
8. Mad. Colona's Memories.  
9 Queen of Majork, two Parts.  
10. Don Lebastian King of Pourtingal.  
11. Heroine Masquiter.  
12. Princess of Cleves.  
13. Obliging Mistress.  
14. Fatal Prudence.  
15. Princess of Fezz.  
16. Disorders of Love.  
17. Triumph of Love.  
18. Victorious Lovers.  
19 Allmanzar. and Allmanzaid.  
20. Earl of Essex and Queen Elizabeth.  
21. Neopolitan, or the Defender of his Mistress.  
22. Nicoratis.  
23. Amorous Abbess.  
24. Homais Queen of Tunis.  
25. Pilgrim in two Parts.  
26. Meronious, Prince of the Blood Royal of France.  
28. Life of the Duke Guise.  
29. Extravagant Poet.  
30. Memoiers Gallant.  
31. Instruction for a Young Noble Man.   
Books of more serious matters.  
The Moral Esays in four Volumes.  

Humane Misery.  
Vanity of Honour, Wealth and Pleasure.  
Pluto's Apology of Socrates.  
Natural History of the Passions.  
Bishop Andrews Devotions.  
Vanity of Arts and Sciences.  
The Officers of the Mouth.  
Kalandarium Hortencey.    

THE AMOURS OF Bonne Sforza, QUEEN of POLONIA.  
AFter the Death of Queen Barbara, the General Diet of Poland having Represented unto Sigismondus their King, that the Good of the State required he should Marry again; He took to second Wife, the Princess Bonna, Daughter unto John Galeas, Duke of Milan.  
That Princess, whose Beauty had made such a noise in the World, was Received by the Polanders with such Magnificence and Acclamations, as spread themselves into the most remote parts of that Kingdom. They were such Feast and rejoicings, as lasted so much the more, by reason that the Queen did seem to take Great Delight in them, and that she was the first also, in inventing very Gallant Ones.  
That Court, besides the Strangers that were there at such a time, was then Composed of the Gallantest Persons in Europe, who in such an Occasion did all endeavour to outvie one another, not only in Gallantry and Activity, but in such a Magnificence also, with so Prodigious Expense, that the King was Obliged to put a stop to their Profusions, in setting of Limits to these Festivals.  
The Queen, who came from so Gallant a Country as is Italy, had heard talk of Poland, as of a Barbarous Place. At least she had so little expected to see, what she did see there, that she was wholly surprised, and did no longer regret so much, that which she had lately left.  
She was Naturally of a very Gallant Humour, and she was Charmed with the Pleasure of seeing the Effects, which her Beauty did produce in all hearts. Neither was she much insensible for her part; and having found in the Court such Cavaliers, as well deserved to be considered, she did not scruple to mix sometimes some Sighs, with those Adorations that others had for Her.  
As there was nothing more Beautiful than her Person and that She contributed also by all her Charming ways, in the gaining of the Hearts, as well as good Wishes, of all Persons, she presently had as many Adorers as Subjects. Amongst which she would make Choice of those that were most to her mind, which she called her Select, and upon these there was bestowed sometimes a Ring, sometimes a Scarf, a Bracelet, a Picture, other Presents and Favours, which were rendered more Considerable by the Manner and Time of giving them, than all that can be reckoned most sensibly moving in Love.  
They were not only young Cavaliers that felt the Effects of this Charming Poison; But the Ministers of State also, of all Ages, and even those of the Gown, that had the greatest Esteem, and the most Power in the State. She knew how to entertain them all, with those little Favours, each in such a certain Confidence of his own good Fortune, that there was not one amongst them, but flattered himself of having the best share in her Favour. And in that Opinion, her Ciphers and Colours were seen in all places; every day did afford some Tournament, or Festival for Love of her; besides Mo●●tos, Verses, and a thousand other Gallantries, which were Addressed to her alone.  
Sigismond was a Prince very clearsighted; He was passed fifty: An Age fit to entertain Jealousy, especially, with a young Wife of her humour, and so Beautiful as was the Queen: But she had the Art of Dissipating all those shadows herself, making the King privy unto the Folly of all her Lovers, of which she made Sport with him. This kind of pretended Sincerity, would quiet that good Prince's mind; and judging that it was Reasonable he should have some Complaisance for a young Princess, who could not so readily lay aside the Customs of her own Country, he permitted her to live after her own manner.  
Thus the Number of the Select did daily increase: There were but three Ladies only, that were not well pleased with that Princess' Actions, above all the Fair ones, which she did not Love. They were almost all forsaken by their Lovers. The Queen could not endure, that any thing should be done for Love of them; and whoever did attempt it, was presently out of Favour.  
The Duchess of Ostrog was the only Person, that did somewhat uphold the Honour of the Ladies of the Country. She was a perfect Beauty; who did bear one of the first Ranks at Court; and the Person who at the very first, had given the most of Jealousy unto the Queen: She had not all that sprightly Air, nor that Pleasantness, that the Beautiful brown Ladies have, as had this Charming Princess. But she was a Woman of a great Presence, of a Pleasant Aspect, and of an Excellent Stature; with these might be added, her Fair Complexion, her Eyes and all the Features of her Face, with her Hairs of a Dazzling Brightness. She was a Lover of Pleasures and of Gallantryes, and yet for a long time she did pass for a Discreet Woman; which is the Art that Women of Wit use.  
It was at this Duchesses, that the most Rational Persons of the Kingdom did daily resort; and that was called, the Little Court; but such a little Court, as frequently did give the first Motion unto all that was acted of most Gallant in the Greatest. The Count of Tarnaw, was as the Head of it. He was the best shaped Lord of the Kingdom, who had the greatest Wit, Brave, Gallant, Generous, Beloved of the King, and of all the Court.  
The first Spite which the Queen had a mind to show the Duchess of Ostrog, was to deprive her of that Lord, who was worth divers others of that Court. And in so doing, she did not only satisfy that Womanish Vanity of Carrying it above all others, but she followed also the Inclinations of her heart; for Tarnaw was one of the most amiable men of the World. He was intimate Friend unto the Duke of Ostrog, and it was thought that he might hold some place near the fair Duchess also, but not peradventure that went so far as to Gallantise. At least that was so well managed, that the Public, who is but little indulgent on such kind of things, did more favour the Duchess, than it was wont to do in regard of other Ladies, for till then she had not been suspected. But the Queen, who was yet full of all the Maxims of her own Country, and that was not of opinion, That a man of Wit, and a Beautiful woman, could long see one another, without Consequences, did not doubt but that Tarnaw was with the Duchess in Title of Gallant after the highest manner.  
She put in use all her Charms, to make assault in point of Beauty, with that stately Lady. There was nothing but Kindnesses and Complaisances for Tarnaw. Presents, and such ways, as were yet more engaging than the Presents themselves, that would speak much, but all to no purpose; for no hearing nor seeing could be procured, Tarnaw did always show an unparallelled Constancy; for the Duchess' Party.  
Not but that this Cavalier, as well as the rest, had found that there was nothing more Charming than the Queen; and that if he had followed the Tendency of his own Heart, he had submitted unto the necessity, of not casting one's Eyes on that Princess without adoring of her. But that Crowd of Adorers which he did continually behold about her, and which she received, did take him off. In this he thought it a point of Honour, not to do as the rest did, but to remain inseparably tied unto the Duchess. The Queen, who was not accustomed to so much Resistance, vexed at a Proceeding which she looked upon as an Injury offered to her Beauty by the Count; did in a moment, pass from all these Sweets unto mortal Hatred; and did show nothing but Contempt for him. But that was not yet sufficient. women's minds run more naturally unto Revenge; she was studying of one, which should Content her. For she could give it the satisfaction of Triumphing over her Rival; and of ruining the Count; which was by causing herself to be beloved by the Duke of Ostrog.  
The Duke was a man of Wit, who through the Character of General which he had, as well as by his Birth, did hold one of the first Ranks in the Kingdom. He was very much considered by the King, and he did understand very well his Duty; but he had Eyes and an Heart, that were made just like other men's. And what cannot a Beautiful Princess do, that employs all her Charms to corrupt the Fidelity of a Gallant man? The Duke of Ostrog surrendered himself, and so soon as he was permitted to be heard, he offered Vows and Homages, Life and Fortune, and all that he could offer. But as he had more measures to observe than the rest of the Selected, he did more Closely manage himself, and would not allow, that his Passion should have any other Witnesses than the Queen and his own Heart.  
That Princess, who had her Designs, and who desired no further of Love, than the Noise and Rumour of it, did not well like the prudence of her Gallant; It availed nothing to be beloved by the Duke, except the Duchess knew of it. She did all that she could to let her know it; which would sometimes put the discreet Husband into despair. And there were some moments, in which he would repent of having engaged himself so far. And if it were with Love as with other things, that one might rid one self of it at pleasure, he had peradventure renounced unto that which he had for the most-Charming Princess of the world; but the most Dangerous also, and the most fit to disturb a good Family.  
It was not that he loved his Wife more than Courtiers usually do, but he had no mind to set her so ill an Example. He knew that she had very good Arms, wherewith to revenge herself of his Perfidiousness; and the less faithful of all Husbands, takes no delight in being deceived by his Wife.  
The Duchess of Ostrog was not blind. She was one of the first that perceived her Husband's ill ways; and that dived into the Queen's designs: But she did but laugh at it, with the Count Tarnaw. The Machine's of that Princess, having not had a good Effect that way, they had no better a success neither on the Dukes Part. It was in vain that she attempted to make him Jealous of the Count with his wife: He had a great opinion of the Duchess' Virtue. And he believed Tarnaw to be so much his Friend, and so honest a Man, that he would have thought he had done them a piece of Injustice, in barely suspecting them of Perfidiousness.  
The Queen's Spite and Jealousy did still increase, through all those fruitless Endeavours. But the Hatred which she had for the Count could not last so long; because that it was Affected only. She was during some days very much out of humour; and at last, to please herself, she must come to a new Onset, on that Heart that was insensible, but only to her. She thought it necessary to bring her Rival near unto her own Person again, and to show her more Kindness than she had done.  
The Duchess, being Taken with that Charming Bait, of being well at Court again, perceived not the Poison which lay under it. There was nothing but continual Feast, and parties of Divertisements, where Tarnaw was sure to be one.  
This Cavalier did begin to perceive, that men were not always the same; and that it was very dangerous to be too often a Spectator of those Charms, for which one may have had some Disposition of being inflamed. He did find the Queen more Beautiful than ever, and he was full of such Cares and Diligence in serving and following her, as he had not had before. The Duchess took notice of it; and she would tell it the Count She told him by the buy, that she could perceive some change in her Conduct; but far from making use of any Means unworthy of her heart, whereby to oppose it, through an height of Ambition, she did contribute unto some pretty Entertainments, which she might at least have interrupted by her Presence.  
As for the Duke, he was not so easy to be handled; he was the most impatient and the most Jealous of all Lovers. He was presently strangely Alarumed at the Counts fresh Pursuites. He knew his Merit, and of all his Rivals he could not see any so much to be feared as that was. He imagined that his own Passion was very secret, and that there were no danger of speaking of the Queen to the Count  
He one day at the Running of the Ring, took occasion so to do. He was in course with his Friend, drawing near him, Take heed to yourself, said he, lowly, for there are great Designs on your heart. I fear nothing, answered the Count, smilingly; and it has been long since of proof against the most dangerous Assaults. You know not, replied the Duke, what Enemies you have to do with; they are two delicate Eyes, continued he, which command here; and that have observed you ever since your coming in. It is very difficult to resist them. While he was speaking to him in this manner, his Eyes were fixed upon him to endeavour to discover by the change of his Face, what passed in his Heart. And perceiving some Alteration of his usual Colour, You blush, added he; than you know what I aim at: You are Catched already; and peradventure, the Happiest of all men. Say rather, replied the Count, that I am the most Ungrateful of all men, after the Care that is taken, to show me the good Will that some have towards me; but I know my Duty, and I will do it. Very weak Reason's Count, replied Ostrog, those that Duty produces against Love, and you are not Ungrateful, since you acknowledge your Ingratitude. Confess the truth to me, continued he without giving of him any time to answer: You would fain make use of your Discretion with me, but yet I know that you answer very well all those favourable Intentions, which are had in your behalf. I answer them so ill, replied Tarnaw (who would put an end to this Conversation,) that never did man deserve Death so much as I do.  
In all that Discourse, which made an end of confounding the Poor Duke, there was not only some Vanity on the Count's side, but there was Malice also. He was not ignorant of his friends Love towards the Queen; and he designed to punish him for his not confiding in him, in concealing it from him.  
The Sport ended, Tarnaw had the Prize, which consisted in a Picture of the Queen, which she was to give herself. As he drew near her to receive it, she told him softly, That long since he might have had greater Advantages, if he could have told how to have made the best advantage of his good Fortune. The Count surprised at those words, whose fence he understood very well, did answer in some kind of Disorder, That there could be no Advantages that he could prefer unto the Honour of serving the greatest Princess on earth. You should, replied the Queen, serve Persons after their own manner, and then you might succeed But, continued she, (turning her head, to observe if any body did hearken,) this is not a business to discourse of before so many Persons. Come this Evening at nine, on the Terrasse which answers to my Closet, and you shall know what I have to say to you on that account.  
After this she suddenly turned herself towards the King, who was speaking to some Ladies, and gave him her hand, to go a walking.  
The Count's mind was so filled with these last words, that he thought it fit to retire home, to think there on a business as important in its Consequences, as any that ever had yet happened to him. He did perceive how far that Rendezvouz would go, which was to have him speak his whole Thoughts, and the Danger which he did run of a total Rout. He was invited unto it after a manner that could not be resisted; his Honour as well as his Heart, did find a thousand Charms in it. The Triumph was Illustrious; and there was no Life, which he did not think well employed, in exposing it on so Glorious, and so Charming a Subject as that was  
With these or such like Thoughts did he entertain himself, till the hour of Assignation; which was no sooner come, but that he incessantly rendered himself on the Terrace. There he found the Queen expecting of him already, who receiving him with an Air full of Sweetness, You see, said she, Count, that this is but on your account. Here I meet you singly, only one Woman with me, that I confide in. The King is at play, and we shall have some Time to discourse here of our business. In the Confusion that the Count at first was, at the sight of that beauteous Princess, he wanted a Voice to answer with; which is an ordinary Effect of Love. The Queen took notice of it with Delight, & leaning against the Rails which overlooked the Garden, she purposely gave him time to recollect himself. But at last perceiving that he did not yet begin to say any thing, the Impatiency she was in to continue her Design, made her to pass over some certain Laws of Manners, unto which Persons of that Rank and Character rarely confine themselves, when it is Love that guides them. Well Tarnaw, what, must I be the first to speak? What think you of the Sentiments that are had for you? I know myself Madam, (he replied, with a respectuous Gravity) that little Merit that I find in me will not permit me— All is permitted you, said the Queen interrupting him, and you but too well know your own Worth. You have done all that you could, to inspire divers things to your advantage into Persons, and perhaps that you have not succeeded ill; but when you had performed the most difficult part, you should have gone on. You should speak, and not please yourself in suffering such Pains, as peradventure others share in with you. In a word Count, added she, I know that you love me; I know it; your Eyes, your Actions, and even your affected Indifferences; all has told it me. Your Heart is mine, permit it to act without Constraint, and lay aside all these Thoughts which seem but to render you the more miserable. Tarnaw, unto whom those very words alone could have inspired Love, had he not been already in Love with that Charming Princess, replies, What pleasure take you Madam, said he sighing, in rendering me the most Criminal Person in the World? Is it a Crime to Love me, answered she? Yes Madam, replied that Lover, and the greatest that ever I committed in all my Life, so to dare to lift up my thoughts unto my Sovereign; But though I should expiate it with my Death, I find that I could not repent it; that it is my Fate would have it so, together with your Charms, against which there is no Resistance.  
The Queen could not contain the Joy which she had upon this Declaration so full of Transports; Love me; said she to him, with a Charming Smile; if it be a Crime, I'll bear the half of it, and I shall endeavour to render it so mild to you, that you shall have no cause of Complaint. In ending these words she gave him her hand, which that Lover took trembling; But which he Kissed with such a Passionate Air, as any Lover could do.  
Some moments of Silence, which passed afterwards between them, were no less tender and passionate than their Discourses but the Queen more accustomed than the Count, unto those Ecstasies of Love, beginning to smile in a kind of Malicious Return, But what will become of the Duchess of Ostrog, said she, when she will know the Wrong I do her, in robbing of her of such a Heart as yours? She will never pardon it me in all her life time. The Duchess of Ostrog Madam, replied the Count, does not take so much the interest of my Heart; but though she should, it would be a Sacrifice which I should offer you without any great Repugnancy. It may be, Madam, added he smilingly in his turn, that you would have more in Sacrificing to me the Duke her Husband. If that the Duke, replied she, is capable of giving you any Disturbance, you will soon be delivered of it. I consent said She further, that you regulate yourself towards the Duchess after the manner that I shall treat her Husband. I will never see her more, replied the Count; and I, said the Queen, will rid myself of the Duke to morrow.  
These Protestations which settled the hearts of these two Lovers, in respect of those Rivals, which each of them had to fear, did conclude by such tendernesses, which the Queen let lose, as quite made an end of the formerly insensible Tarnaw.  
Those favours which come from Persons of that Rank have this advantage, that all charm even to the least Trifles; a Look, a Smile, and Hand given in season, a Gesture, the least Tenderness, Transports and Dazzles. Tarnaw scarce knew what was become of himself, and did answer but by halves, and confusedly unto some Amorous Questions which the Queen made him; whether he would love her all his life time; and whether he was very well pleased with her; till that at last that Charming Princess, who perceived him so transported with Joy and Love, as that he seemed Enchanted, and to have but one moment of Life left, Let us go Tarnaw, said She, let us go hence, for we might be here a little too long it may be. I think that for the first time, that you have seen me in private, you have very far advanced your affairs. The Count, who had been half the time kneeling before her, did rise, and sighing gave her his Hand to lead her; but perceiving that She designed to return to the King, he entreated. Her to permit him to retire home, because that he thought himself not strong enough to conceal the Excess of his Joy, before such Persons as draw Consequences of all things, as Courtiers use to do. The Queen approved of this Gantleness, and told him. That to have so Prudent a Lover as he was, I was the way to make Love last a long time.  
The night which followed that Entreview, was for the Count incapable of yielding any Rest. Not that the Remorse which he ought to have, of the Crime which he committed against his King, or that the Fear of the dangers that he exposed himself unto did disturb him; Love had already got too high an hand over him, to afford the least return imaginable unto Reason. It was the raptures of Joy, which a thousand Charming Ideas of those render things which the Queen had had for him, & which did still promise him greater favours. He slept not, yet the night did not seem the longer for that, on the contrary, he did make it last into the middle of the following day; so that it was already Dinner time, when that a Servant came to give him notice of it, and at the same time to tell him, that the Queen's Page waited to speak with him. The Page was immediately brought into his Chamber, who presented unto the Count a Packet from the Queen, in which there was a Scarf, and this Note.  
I will not forgive it you, Count, if you have slept one single moment this night; for Love would have treated you better than me; and you would not love me half so well as you ought to do, or that I would have you to do. I send you a Scarf against the just, which is to be performed next Thursday. You shall take for your Motto these words.  
Tanto piu alto, e Tanto piu ardore.  
We go a Hunting, come you also; for I should but ill divert myself, if I should not see you there.  
While that the Count was thus busied, the Duke of Ostrog, who through the great Friendship that was between them was dispensed from Ceremonies, being come in, he perceived the Page, the Scarf, and Note, which the Count was reading with so great an Attention, that he was in the midsts of the Room before he had perceived it: The confusion he was in, when he first perceived him was great. The Duke asked him, whence came so fine a Present. It is without cause you make me this question, replied the Count, (who would not mince the matter out of season) you have seen the Queen's Page, and you doubt not but that it is from her Liberality that this favour comes. I was afraid of deceiving myself, replied the Duke, and did not think that an ungrateful Person, that deserved death from Her, was worthy of so much favour. If all those unto whom She has made such Presents, replied Tarnaw, were guilty, you had been so long since. One must be born, replied the Duke, under as lucky a Planet as yours, to dare to adventure in a Career, so full of precipices as that is. It is the Danger, replied the Count, which affords the Pleasure as well as the Glory of the undertakeing. Farewell, said the Duke going, I wish that you may come out of it with the good Fortune which you deserve. I shall take counsel upon that, replied the Count, when the Enterprise is resolved upon; but it shall be from the most happy that I shall take it.  
The Duke being gone out in this manner, Tarnaw thought of the Answer he was to send to the Queen, which you may see here.  
What hopes of sleep, Madam, when you leave me in the Arms of a God, that does so little converse with it; yet how restless and troublesome as he is to others, I can say, that he has treated me so well, that I should wrongfully complain of him. He has done nothing, but continually spoke of you to me; He has represented you to my mind, with all those Charms which render you adorable. There is no Joy equal to mine. Aid him, Madam, if it be possible, to redouble it; though he should take away my Life, with my sleep, I should not complain. I have kissed a thousand times that curious Scarf. How great and glorious is my destiny; and with the esteem of so Great and so Charming a Princess, how few mortals are so blessed as is Tarnaw!  
He gave that Answer to the Page, and called to be dressed. The Conversation which he had had with the Duke, came again into his mind; he was his Friend, and he pitied him; but that which troubled him most, was on the account of the Duchess. He could not think on her without Confusion. She had always been the Secretary of his thoughts: They had rallyed the Queen a thousand times together; he had boasted of a Contempt for all that Princess' Bounties. Mean time he is gone; how many Reproaches was his Weakness going to procure unto him? He resolved not to see her more; in this he satisfied the Queen's desire, and at the same time did free himself from that thing, which caused him the most Trouble.  
This being once concluded after this manner, he would no longer think on the Duke or Duchess, to relish the full Joy of such a fortune as his. He prepared himself to go to that hunting, and was there presently after the Court.  
The Queen had taken the Duchess of Ostrog with her, and that night they were to lie in a house of Pleasure, belonging to the Bishop or Cracovia, who was one of the blessed number of the Queens Selected.  
The Duke had not followed the Court; in the Troubles, or rather Despairs he was in. He sought after nothing but Solitaryness: Yet after divers vexations of mind, on a thousand different Resolutions, on which his heart floated, being got on Horse back, he came there towards night: But whereas every one was very busy in those Divertisements, which the Bishop had caused to be prepared, and that moreover this Prelate, the most troublesome, and most assiduous of all the Election, under pretence of making the honours of the house, did not abandon one moment the Queen: The Duke, the unfortunate Duke, could not all that night find one occasion to speak unto her in private. And the Court withdrew betimes also, because that the King had a mind to hunt again the next day; when the Queen being fatigated with that day's sport, dispensed herself from going.  
Besides the Fatigue, She had her private Reasons also. And the King was no sooner up, and got out of his Chamber, but sending to seek after the Duchess of Ostrog, she caused her to come to Bed to her, as she used to do with her best Friends, to talk or laugh the rest of the Morning. Do you not know, said she to her, what the Duke of Ostrog would have with me, who desired last Night that he might have a quarter of an hours Audience, on a business in which he says his Life is concerned? If it be not a Love concern, Madam, replied the Duchess smiling, I know not what it can be. A concern of Love; replied the dissembling Queen? If it concerns me, I assure you that you shall have the Pleasure of it. I have long known, Madam, replied the Duchess, that he has the Honour of sighing for you; but I forgive it him, for it is almost the infallible destiny of all those, that have the honour of approaching you. You are a Commodious Wife, replied the Queen; but I know not if you should have as much Indulgency for an other than an Husband. Either Husband or Gallant, replied the Duchess, when ever they leave me for so beauteous a Princess, I shall have nothing to say.  
The Queen did not think the Duchess very sincere on that point, but she had wherewith to put her suddenly to a Trial: And returning to speak of the Duke, She told her, that she had ordered the Duke should be told, that he might see her that morning, and that if she would lie close behind her, and promise not to discover herself, She would give her the satisfaction of the whole Entertainment. The Duchess, who would have bought such an Opportunity on much more difficult terms, than those which the Queen proposed, did easily agree unto it, and promised her to observe all her Orders, with all her heart.  
So that the hour being come, the Duke was admitted. He appeared with a pale, and macerated countenance, approaching the Bed, whose Curtains were but half drawn; and kneeling on one knee before the Queen, You see before you, Madam, said he in a low and doleful voice, the most passionate of all mortals, but the most miserable, and the most desperate also; you shall see him for the last time, if you take no pity of him. Whence comes this despair, Duke, replied the Queen, of what do you complain? I know, continued that unfortunate Lover sighing, that it is not for a Subject to complain of his Queen. But if that the liberty which you have given to my sighs, may in some measure Authorize my complaints, certainly it is in this occasion, when betraying the hopes that your Eyes, and your too Charming Discourses for me, had caused my heart to receive, you give marks of your Tenderness unto a man, who cannot have deserved them through a real Zeal. And who is that happy man? replied the Queen. It is not necessary, Madam, replied he, to name him to you; it will suffice that I tell you, to show you his Indiscretion, that after he had confided to me those Obliging Sentiments which you have for him, he has showed me the Scarf and Note, which you sent yesterday, as Proofs & Arguments of that Bounty you had for him, from which, he says, he has long endeavoured to defend himself. The Queen laughing at this, asked him if that was the thing which so much troubled him; & if a young giddy head as Tarnaw could be capable of making him jealous; Tarnaw, who had not been capable to give him any suspicion as to his own Wife, though doubtless with more cause. Ah! Madam, replied the Duke, how differently are things felt, in reference to a Wife, and to a Princess that is adored; I could forgive, continued he, unto my Friend, all the Treacheries which he could have used against me towards the Duchess, sooner than the least suspicion that he could kindle in me, in respect of you.  
The Duchess was harkening with a world of patience all her faithful Husband's Sentiments; but young and beauteous as she was, Heavens knows what she had in store for him. The Queen would now and then push her with her foot, to make her observe the chief passages; and the Duchess did press her behind to bid her to continue.  
If Tarnaw has any advantage over you, continued the Queen, It is not his Merits that acquires it him; I know very well yours; but I love your Wife. Be reasonable, and be contented with my Friendship; I give it you wholly; and here is my hand for Surety. In saying this she took the Duchess hand, which she put half out of the bed, on which the blind Duke did fasten his Amorous mouth; Ah! Madam, said he with a transported Air, how easy it would be to pass from friendship to Love towards you, but from love to bare Friendship is such a return, which depends not even of Heaven. What can be done for you then, Duke? continued the Queen, who had much to do to contain herself from laughing, shall you be satisfied, if that for proof of that tender Esteem, that one has for you, I grant you the whole Person whose hand you hold? That is too much, Charming Princess, it is too much, repeated the passionate Duke, pressing that delicate hand with his Lips. Lesle marks of your Complaisancy are able to make me die with Love.  
When the Queen saw, that the deceived Duke let himself go thus unto the deceitful Kindnesses which she promised him, that he already began to proceed a little further, She thought that it was time to open the Curtains: Which this Lover taking for a good sign, he set himself on pushing very far his Boldness, when he saw his Wife appear, whose hand he held yet: Never did clap of Thunder produce so terrible an effect; he did not know whether his eyes were his own, and whether it was the Duchess really that he saw; but he was soon persuaded that he was played upon, by the great Laughter which the Queen could no longer contain herself from; at which he was cruelly nettled. The Duchess triumphed, and taking advantage of the disturbance he was in tells him: Your Faithfulness, my Lord, is of a great example; it may be followed hereafter, and perhaps with better success than your; then it will be seen whether you will be Jealous or no. The Duke replied not a word to that: his mind and heart were in such a disorder, through the Change that had so lately been put upon him, that nothing less than venting his Rage in Reproaches, and it might be with Injuries also, could make him open his mouth, to answer such severe Railleryes as were put upon him. He went out without speaking, and without so much as looking on the Queen, who at last had some pity of him.  
She told the Duchess, that seeing she had been the Cause of that difference, she would also be the maker of it up again, that it might not spread any further. The Duchess, who thought herself sufficiently revenged of an husband, who had not been over successful in his Falsehood, did put all her interest into the hand of the Queen.  
The Duke of Ostrog, was not the only Person, that had a Rendezvous that morning. The Count of Tarnaw had his hour also; but there were other Sweets prepared for him. He was ready to go to the Assignation, when he saw the Duke enter his Chamber, who sat down, and was some moments without speaking: The Count, unto whom that Silence, no more than the Duke's ill looks, did not presage any thing pleasant, did not press much to open the discourse; when at last the Duke, you say nothing to me, said he, with a weak and doleful voice. You were to begin, replied Tarnaw; for you come not here without design; and if I mistake not, you have something in your mind, which troubles you. I am not so happy as you Tarnaw; replied the Duke. But should I tell you my Secret, would you promise me to conceal nothing of Yours? I am not curious of other Persons concerns, replied the Count; and that shall not oblige me to tell you mine. That Indifferency, replied the Duke, makes me think, that you sufficiently know already what I have to say; so that I cannot exact any thing from you. You are not ignorant doubtless, that I love the Queen; but you may not know, how far my Passion has gone. I have betrayed you, I have told her all that you had told me on her account; and confess that if Love did not render all excusable, I should not be worthy to Live. But you are better revenged, than if I had lost my life. I am going to live, but to be the more miserable; I yield to the most fortunate. You are beloved, and though I do you no great service, in giving you up a place to which I have no pretence, I think it is fair for a Lover to abandon it to you. I have nothing more to say to you, continued he. Pity in lieu of blaming me; Adieu. The Count would have stayed him, to have some further clearing of the business; but the other would not hearken to him. Farewell, said he, farewell the third time. I am going to seek Solitude, where you may one day come and keep me company. Ending these words he went out of the Chamber; his soul so afflicted, that Tarnaw was moved at it, notwithstanding all the occasions of Complaints which he had against him.  
He did not doubt, but that the ill Offices that this Rival had rendered him near the Queen, had made a very disadvantageous Effect against him in her mind. Yet that could not retain him from going to her; on the Contrary, he had the greater desire of seeing her, to justify himself. He came there just at the same time that the Duchess was gone forth. The Queen presently looked upon him with a disdainful Eye; and asked what he came to do near her; if it was to have some other discourses to make, that might, flatter his Vanity. Tarnaw, who had prepared himself for a worse Reception, rather animated than abashed, at the Queen's small Anger, did fall upon his Knees before her, and told her, That he knew already the causes of Complaint, which she might have against him; That the Duke had lately told him part of what his Jealousy had made him say. But that she ought not to believe a Rival, nay a desperate Rival. And then continuing to justify himself with a tender and passionate Air, he put the Queen's mind into a quiet Temper again, who wished more than he, to believe him Innocent.  
There was no more words made of this business, but jesting at it. The Duke and Duchess were brought upon the List, and the Adventure of the first made their divertisement. Love had his turn also; I confess that there was no great time left for that, because it began to be Late, and that the Bishop of Cracovia, had already demanded two or three times, to be admitted to pay his Devoirs to the Queen: Nevertheless those Moment's that were left, were very well employed; and because that in Love there are certain Links of favours, by which one easily and necessarily go from one to another, peradventure that that day the bold Count had gone very far; But the troubled Prelate of Cracovia, of all the Selected, of all the Lovers the most Vigilant, and the most Jealous, was at the door, who was the fourth time ask for admittance, to salute the Queen; and admittance could no longer be refused him without great Consequences, because that Tarnaw was with her. That was a Mortal blow for the Cavalier to bear: But the Queen who was already sensible of her own Weakness, carrying it above the Reasons that the Throne, and her Duty could afford, was not it may be sorry for it. The Bishop came in with an Air as perplexed, as were our Lovers. There was a general Silence, which made them all think on divers strange things. Our two Selected stood gazing at one another, and the Queen was making an end of dressing.  
Heavens keep all honest Lovers from a Rival of the Mass-Book. Those are terrible Lords. This here had not been so earnest, without Reason, in coming to disturb so agreeable a Conversation. He knew what sport was there. His Closet answered to that, in which was the Queen, and through the means of two concealed holes, one might see represented in a great Glass all that was acted there, and all that was said was distinctly heard.  
This Prelate was one of the best shaped men of the Kingdom, and that had the most Wit: And setting aside Gallantizing, for he was not reprehensible on that point, he was assuredly a man of great Worth. He knew how to appear outwardly, and he had an Art of agreeing Piety with human frailties; so that passing for a great Gallant, he was however esteemed a very honest man; so true it is, that in all things there is but the Way of doing them.  
He could speak most perfect Italian, and he was one of the first that ventured to Gallantise the Queen. The Rarity of the thing pleased the Queen; and without considering any scruples, as being of the Patrimony of the Church, She pleasingly gave an Ear unto his Sacrifices and Prayers. She was come out of a Country, where abundance of those Examples were frequently seen; and it is but in few other places that Fault is found with it. The Lord Prelate, through the easiness which he found to have his Sighs well liked and approved of, did admire himself, and did attribute the Effects of it, unto his good Qualities, and not to the Queens Gallantizing Humour. He was so proud of it, that he would have dared Love itself to have been his Rival. So that thereby may be guessed, what wonder was his, when that he heard the sweet Conversation, which his inconstant Queen had with the Count; and when he saw the Bounties with which She honoured him; How often was he tempted, Oh Heavens! to go Stab that too fortunate Count, at the Feet of that Princess? Finally some certain returns unto his Sacred Person, reducing him to Reason again, the Arms dropped from his Hands, and he was contented with going to interrupt that too cruel Mystery. All that he said to the Queen, after the long Silence, into which his almost lost Senses had at first plunged him, came forth as from a Man that was brainsick. The Count retired, and the Queen, who was weary of the idle Stories of this Priest, found out a way of ridding herself of him.  
The King, who had a design to go lie at Cracovia that Night, returned in good time from Hunting; and so soon as Dinner was over, the Court went towards that City, where it arrived late: So that our Lovers had no opportunities of seeing one another that Night; as doubtless they had designed: They were forced to content themselves with some public Devoirs, amongst which some Looks and Sighs were intermixed, which promised some other kind of Favours the day following.  
The Count retired himself with a very contented Heart of that day's Success; for he imagined, that he was got to such an height of good Fortune, that there was but one step more to advance, to be entirely Happy. The Duke's thoughts were quite of another nature. In that Despair he was, he had taken leave of the Court for some Days; and was retired into the Country, where he entertained the Rocks and Woods, with his Misfortunes.  
The Lord Bishop had Cares that were no less burning than his; yet he had not gone that way to work. Solitude did appear to him, a means to increase his Sorrows, rather than to diminish them. Lovers of that temper, have good strong Stomaches, they digest all things, and are never disgusted. He arose early in the Morning, and without trouble, because that he had passed that Night without Sleep, and went directly to Count Tarnaws House, to have some Conference with him. He was his near Kinsman; and through the Dignity of his Office, he thought he had right to give him some Brotherly Remonstrances. Distributive Justice would have required, that he should begin by himself; but that which is a Crime in another, is a Trifle in those Directors of Consciences. He came into his Chamber, and with a free and cheerful Countenance which was very usual with him; My dear Cousin, said he, doubtless that I awaken you a little too early, you that are an happy Lover, that Sleeps not always when you would; but there are certain Businesses in hand, in which I should not show myself a good Relation, should I neglect them; and I do believe that you will be something obliged to me for interrupting your Repose. The Count having answered the Prelate's kindness, with civil Compliments; the Illustrious Cuzen pursued in this manner, Would you not be very much surprised, said he, if I should bring you now an Order from the King, for to have you retire to Smolensco; and there to wait his further Pleasure? I should of truth, replied the Count, for I do no believe I have deserved such an Exile. Merited that Exile? replied the Bishop, No, it is nothing, to dare to lift your Thoughts to the Queen, and to permit yourself to be dazzled with the Favours of a Princess, that leads you directly to a Precipice. Me? replied the Count, blushing. Yourself, replied the Cousin, who though you should not Blush at it, would notwithstanding be Condemned to Suffer the greatest of Torments, if there was not Pity taken of you, and if your Accusers were not of your Friends.  
The Count, who thought that his Relation spoke after this manner, but through his Zeal towards him, and the Distrusts which he might have upon the account, that in lieu of following the King to Hunt, he had found him that Morning with the Queen, did boldly maintain, that it would be with great injustice that he should be accused of such a Crime, and that he thought he had not need so much as to make his Defence in it. But the Prelate, who was naturally very Eloquent, redoubling the strength of his Remonstrances, with all the particularities of that Conversation, which he specified, did put him beyond Answering. And of Truth he had Reason to be Alarmed at the Recital of all that had passed betwixt the Queen and he in a Closet, where they had no other witnesses but Love: It was not likely that that Princess should have confided that Secret to such a Man as was the Bishop of Cracovia; and in mean time, unless some familiar Spirit, had designed to reveal their Amours, he could not imagine that it could be known from any other than the Queen.  
All these Thoughts did come and go in his Mind, during the Bishop's Discourse; who taking advantage of the Disorder he was in, did begin to draw him a most terrible Picture of his Crime, and of his Ingratitude towards a Prince, which did daily over-whelm him with Kindness; so that awakening in him those just Reproaches, that an honest virtuous Man ought to use against himself, in such a Case, it wanted but little that his Love was not quite extinct. He produced some weak Reasons to excuse himself. But they were overcome by so many others, that he had nothing left but Confusion, in which the Bishop was pleased to leave him, telling him, That in this business, there was no less Concern, than his Fortune, his Honour, and peradventure, his Life also; all which he ventured for nothing, or at least for a Princess, who was a Woman like others; and that would leave him one day for some body else, though less deserving.  
All that admirable Discourse, with that Tendency which the Count had for his Duty towards his King, that honoured him with his good Will, having made upon him such Impressions as it ought to do, he was very much shaken, and passed away some Cruel Moment's; he did perceive that that Passion, as happy as it could be, could not of Truth, but cause him an eternal Repentance. The Bishop was already informed of it, and others might be so too; and the King would not fail at last of knowing it, if he knew it not already. In so fair a way of Reflections, which caused him great perplexity, this Note was brought him from the Duchess of Ostrog.  
So long as your Friendship could preserve that Honour which it merited, I wished the Duration of it: But since that it only serves as a Divertisement to some, be willing to let it end: It was too fair not to produce Jealousy; and those that were so, have at last Triumphed: Expect neither Reproaches nor Complaints from me; with the fame Liberty that Persons come, with the same Freedom I let them retire. I neither call, nor retain any one: But when once a Person separates without Cause, the business is done, there is no return. Adieu Count, let us no more see one another, I Conjure you of it; I might pity you, after what you know, and might bring you into a Confusion; Adieu, for the last time.  
The Duchess had but laughed at the Adventure of her Husband; she was obliged to the Queen, for having so well Revenged her, and in having showed her what little Concern she had for the Duke's Passion: But as to the Count, whom she had always considered as a tender Friend, whom she could not think of losing, nothing had touched her so sensibly, as to learn that she had lost him; not but that certain Ways, which of late she had observed in him towards her, with the Reservedness he showed in what concerned the Queen, whereas formerly he did Inform her of all things, aught to have prepared her unto all that; but be it that we do not easily believe any thing, which is disadvantageous to us, and that it is easy to flatter ourselves, she did not believe him so unworthy as to turn perfidious. What a Vexation is it for a Beauteous Woman, to learn of the Unworthiness of a Man, that leaves her, to give himself to another, for whom he has expressed a thousand Slites? She began to open her Eyes, and to see that the loss of the Count, was the Price of that Friendship that the Queen had showed her, and that she had not been the most subtle of the two. These Reflections which produced divers others, did represent unto her the Wrong which was done her, to be a thing so cruel, that there was nothing she would not do to Revenge herself. But as she was a Woman of Wit, she would not fly out, judging well that all the Noise would reflect upon herself. All her Cares were first employed in bringing the Count back again. She knew his Humour well; and did understand well which way to go about it.  
She began by that Letter, which produced that Effect which she had promised herself; for the Count, who from the day before had taken the Resolution of not seeing her any more, did find himself touched with a secret Displeasure; so soon as he saw, that she was the first to advise him to it, and that indifferency, which she showed in her Letter, did more sensibly touch him, than all the Reproaches that she could have used, He did Sigh! He afflicted himself, and from that time he thought, that he should be the most Unfortunate of all Men, if he should lose the Friendship of a Lady, without whom he could not Live. It is not unlikely, but that the condition in which the Remonstrances of the Bishop had settled his Mind, did much Contribute in making him receive all those Impressions. But here is what he Answered to the Duchess.  
You would abandon me, Madam, when I have the most need of you. I am undone if I see you no more; I confess that my Weakness would deserve that Punishment: But I am a Man, and you ought not to be surprised at my committing of Faults: Though mine should be inexcusable, you are obliged to forgive it me; for if you had pleased I had been less Guilty; help me then, to get out of it, since that I freely confess it to you. Spare if you please neither Reproaches nor Chide. All Remedies will be sweet to me, so they serve to bring me back to my Duty again: All my Joy, and all my Glory ought to be limited, in being wholly yours.  
This Note seemed to have somewhat settled his Mind; and as if he had already gained much over himself, thus to have writ to the Duchess, He thought himself almost free from that dangerous Love which he had for the Queen. But Lovers know themselves very little, and all those Resolutions are but false Revolts, which serve but to re-ingage them the more.  
This was Evident in the Person of the Count of Tarnaw, who notwithstanding all that the Bishop had told him, and all that he had writ to the Duchess, with all his Reflections and great Designs of returning unto his Duty, could not forbear going to the just, which was to be performed that Day, and there to wear the Queen's fine Scarf.  
The Duchess had a great mind not to be there, but the Queen found out a means to engage her to it, in sending to her the Prize of the Tilting, which was a Heart of Diamonds, to give to him that should get the Advantage. If she could have guessed that the Count should again win the Prize; doubtless but that she had dispensed herself from serving the Queen in that respect; but there being other Cavaliers as Brave and as Dextrous as he, and that besides, she would be very glad to see, whether he would wear that Scarf, after that which he had Writ to her, she yielded unto her Rivals desires.  
Never had the Count appeared with such Gallantry, as he did that Day; and his Dexterity as well as good Mien, was admired by all; The King was Charmed with it, as well as the Queen, who, without the least regard or management, called out to every one to have them observe, all that this dear Lover did perform. The Duchess was the only Person that seemed not concerned at all, and she did appear with so much dullness, as obliged two or three times the Queen, to ask her what she Ailed; but her Trouble was very great, seeing that she could not constrain herself.  
The Count at last was the Conqueror, and approaching to the Duchess, not without Blushing, to receive the Prize: If you wanted nothing more, said she, with a cold Air, but this Heart to be Contented, you are now very happy; and not staying for his Answer, she turned to Count Topor, a young handsome Lord, who of late did Visit her with some Assiduity, and who gave her his Hand to lead her home. Tarnaw would have stayed her, but the Queen, whose Eyes were never off of him, called him, & finding him dull, she asked him, what the Duchess had said, and whether there was an absolute Rupture, or a Reconciliation betwixt them? No Madam, he replied, it is neither the one nor the other, but her Coldness surprises me. Does her Coldness surprise you, Tarnaw? replied that Princess, Is it not that you repent already your Abandoning of her? The Count would have justified himself from such a Censure, but she gave him not time to Answer; and making sign to him to be silent; Go, said she, follow your own Inclinations, I will have no Heart that in the least wavers, in giving itself wholly to me: Think on it, and give me your Answer this very Night. This Lover, who did see, that the place was not fit for the clearing of such a business, did not insist any longer for to be heard, and retired to put off his Armour.  
Never was Man more agitated than he; his mishap proceeded from being too happy. His Heart was too much burdened with two the most Charming and most perfect Objects on Earth; one of which was capable of satisfying the Ambition, and of pleasing the Desires of the most Ambitious and most Passionate of all Men. But he was to choose, and he knew not which to leave. In following, purely, Love, he tended towards the Queen; she had such soft and tender Ways, such a Complaisant winning Air, and even sometime such pretty passionate Expressions as Enchanted him. But then to absolutely abandon the Duchess, with whom he had Contracted a kind of Habitude, Tenderness, Society, and Confidence, that was renouncing a world of Pleasures; that was tearing himself, from what there was for him of most sweet and agreeable in this Life. The Queen had Changed for Love of him, she might well change again for Love of another. There were divers Examples of her Inconstancy; and he would not flatter himself with being capable of of setting Limits to it. The defects of Temper are rarely amended. Unto all those Reasons, those which concerned his Duty were added, which the Lord Bishop of Cracovia had made him too well to understand, to forget them so soon. In fine, he resolved to keep the surest side; which was that of the Duchess, and as he had need of her Assistance, to bear that Victory over his own Heart, he was no sooner unarmed, but that he went to her.  
Long since he had the Privilege to go in there, with the same Liberty that the Duke himself did use; and after he had enquired, if the Lady was there, he went directly to her Chamber, where he found a Gentlewoman at the Door, who told him that there was no going in. That refusal surprised him; he for whom the Doors were there always open; he inquired the Reason, and he was Answered; that my Lady was busy, and that there was some Body with her: He would know who that some Body was: The Gentlewoman, who was Tutored thereto, would not tell, or at least would be pressed to it, to render the Mystery more important. He pressed, he entreated, and at last he learned, that it was the Count Topor. The Count Topor? replied he, to himself, alone in a Chamber with the Duchess, where I must not enter? On this he busied himself some time, without any desire that Notice should be given of his being there; he had a desire to see whether that secret Entertainment would last long. He sat down near the Gentlewoman, entertaining her with divers indifferent things, while his mind was an other way. But as he grew weary every moment of waiting so long, he risen and sat down again at least a dozen times. At last Impatiency did so seize him, that he desired the Gentlewoman to go ask her Mistress, whether he might not Entertain her a moment. She made some kind of difficulty, on the Orders which she had received from the Duchess, but at last she seemed to be persuaded through his Importunities, and returned to tell him for answer, That the Duchess did desire him to excuse her, and that she could not see him, till the Count Topor was gone. This second Refusal more Cruel yet than the former, quite breaking the Heart of Count Tarnaw; He arose in good earnest, and yielding unto the spite which the Jealousy and the Shame of such an Affront did inspire him with; He told the Gentlewoman she might tell her Lady, That he would not expose himself a second time to be so ill received; with that he went away, and left one of his Lacquaiss at the Door to keep Sentry, and to give him an account when Count Topor should go forth.  
The Truth of the Story was, That there was no body with the Duchess; and that this Duchess having perceived the Count coming by a Window, had shut herself up in her Chamber, and had ordered her Woman to make all that Sport, who was very Dextrous at such things, and her great Confident. She had thus gratified her little Ambition, and had taken extreme Delight in hearing her Woman relate all the earnest Desires, the Uneasiness, Frettings, and Distrusts which she had caused the Count to Suffer. But however, she had been very glad to have spoken to him; and feared lest she might have driven her Resentment too far; which gave her some Disturbance all that Night.  
The Count was returning home, prepossessed with a thousand Vexations that troubled him; when one of his Servants, who was going to the Duchess for him, told him, That the Queen had sent three or four times, to know if he were at home. This Advice having put new thoughts into his Head, did make him take the Resolution of going, that he might Consolate himself, near the Queen, of the Duchess' Scorns. So he directed his Steps towards the Castle: He came to that Princess' Apartment; where he was told, that the Bishop of Cracovia was with her; an ill Conjuncture for him; he thinks it fit to wait his going out, that he might avoid another Lecture; and passing on the other side of the Apartment, he entered into a Gallery, where but few Persons resorted, because that it answered unto the Queen's Closet. He thought at his coming there, that he heard the Voice of the Bishop. It was very dark, there was no light in the Gallery, and he thought that he might boldly approach to the Door whence the Noise came. He heard that there was some Discourse of him; his Curiosity redoubled; he lends an Ear unto the Keyhole, and he distinguishes the Queen's Voice: Tarnav; said she, is a Villain, if he has said this; but for your own quiet I advise you not to believe any thing of it. I shall not believe any thing of it, Madam, replied the Bishop, if that for to Punish him, you see him no more I see him? replied the Queen: If I do so, it shall be to Treat him as the meanest of Men. Be more favourable to him Madam, replied the Prelate, and see him not at all: If you please, added he, I shall let him know your Mind. The Queen answered not presently, but after some few Moment's of 〈◊〉, she said that she consented to it. Upon which the Bishop, who thought that he had obtained all that he 〈◊〉 wish for, took leave of the 〈◊〉 and went out through the door of that Gallery, with such precipitation, that he had like to have surprised the overcurious 〈◊〉.  
There 〈◊〉 was any Surprisal 〈◊〉 to that of this Lover, to hear the good services which his dear kinsman rendered him. He could not guests what Cause he had, to use him so 〈◊〉. There was not the least Noise imaginable at Court, that he had any Amorous designs towards the Queen and but little likelihood that 〈◊〉 Prudent a Person as He, and of his Character, should be guilty of that Folly, which he condemned in 〈◊〉 so much. All other thoughts bad that would have 〈…〉 mind. He had but just time enough to retire himself; and 'twas well for him that the honest Prelate came out without a Light. He let him pass by with a design to follow him soon but Fortune who was preparing more new Adventures for him that Night, would have it that th● Bishop going out of the Gallery, drew the other Door after him; so that the Count found himself looked up on all sides, not knowing which way to stir forth.  
This last Trouble was almost the height of his Despair; He would not, for half his life, have been found alone in that place, especially at that hour: That might have drawn divers ill Consequences, or at least divers Raillery's, which had made sport at Court, if it had been known, that he had been obliged to pass all the Night long there; and his Vexation as well as his Despair, did increase a● of as he reflected on the Impos●bility there was of g●●ing off, with 〈◊〉 ●ome Celestial Assistance. On the Queen's side, though he had a pas●●●, it was the hour that the 〈◊〉 used to be with her, and ●●●re, would be too much danger 〈◊〉 mee● him there, after what 〈◊〉 already discoursed abroad. The other door was of proof against all his strength, and in ●●●ing any noise, he run the danger of being heard from the ●●ngs side; The Windows were ●oo high; to get off that way, would endanger his life. In fine there was nothing to be done, but to wait with patience the coming of the Day. A cruel Choice indeed, for a man, that had already so many other Troubles to ●●●e off, without the need, of passing a whole night in such a kind of Function.  
As he was admiring on this the ●●●ur of his Fate, that all that 〈◊〉 long had brought him from one Crossness to another, the door was opened on the Queen side; and the King came out followed by that Princess. Happily for the Count, one of the grea● Pictures of the Gallery, that warred something to be mended, wa● let down, behind which he ha● leisure to hid himself.  
It was Sigismond's Custom every night in Summer, to take some ●urnes in that Gallery, before h● went to bed, & the Queen would sometimes keep him Company. She was then entertaining of him, with the Amorous stories of her Selects; of which she told him divers as much to divert him, as to gain the more Confidence from him. What would you say Sir, said She, if that the Bishop of Cr●covia is in love with me also? I should say, replied the King, that he could not be so with a more Beautiful Woman; but I believe him too wise; and you would have much to do to per●●●e me to it. I assure you ●hat he is so, replied the Queen, 〈◊〉 to that height as to become 〈◊〉 us of all that come near me: 〈◊〉 first Declaration of Love that 〈◊〉 ever made me, continued she, 〈◊〉 in his Mass Book; where he 〈◊〉 me, that he would show me 〈◊〉 greatest Devotion he had: ●●●ch consisted in five or six ●●ts of my Picture, all which ●●●sented me in divers postures of Saints, and he at my Feet. Of ●●th I never did laugh so much 〈◊〉 all my life, for never any of my ●●vers had ever devised to make love to me after such a Pious manner.  
crismond, who was a good 〈◊〉 could not forbear laughing also; but he thought that it was 〈◊〉 a jesting story, or that at least the Queen fitted it to her own humour. I swear unto you, ad●●● she that he is jealous of Tarnaw; and that he will not have me to see him. But, Madam, said the King, in way of Admonition. Do not you yourself give way unto such Insolences? You have such sorts of kind ways and manners, continued this Prince, which in Italy would be nothing, but that in such a Country as this cause divers things to be thought and said, more than there is. A little more Moderation, in all those Outward things, continued he, would not ill become you. What, must I then reform myself, replied the Queen, for my Lord Bishop's sake? No Madam, replied the King, but for your Own sake. I must have some time ●●ow'd me Sir, said the Queen, 〈…〉 myself, unto the Customs of the Country, and I cannot warrant you, that I can ever become, ●o Barbarous, and to take no longer any delight in Life, or in 〈◊〉 Society, as I see divers do here.  
The King, ●o whom this dis●●●se did not please, changed the ●●ine; and after some Turns 〈◊〉 in the Gallery, they reti●●.  
●●is Adventure, which was 〈◊〉 Tarnaw a Scene, in which he did see a Picture of the Queens ●●●ural humour drawn to the 〈◊〉 who would easily sacrifice 〈◊〉 that she had favoured, did 〈◊〉 him much cause of ●●●●●izing on her Person, all the 〈◊〉 of that Night. The Incomplete Bishop, with his Declaration was not forgot; but above all 〈…〉 admit the King's Patience; who had so much Indulgency for the Queen's little Sallies. It is true, 〈…〉 Prince had already de●●●red on this account, unto some unreasonable givers of Advice, ●hat if he was to have punished o● other all those, of whom the 〈◊〉 had given him cause of 〈◊〉 plaint, his Court would be in a short time quite deferted.  
This Impunity however, not the King's Clemency, did not give the Count any desire, to engage any farther with the Queen; on the contrary, the more this Prince was Indulgent, the more Horror had he of his Crime. Besides, that this night, he was very much out of humour with Love, through all those Accidents which had happened unto him, and of which he was not yet quite rid. Never had any night seemed so long and tedious to him. At last Day came; and one of the King's Bedchamber, having some business that way, came, luckily to open the door, while he was behind that Picture.  
Never Man that was condemned 〈…〉 perpetual Prison, could go with more joy, out of his Bonds, than he did out of that Place: So soon as he was returned home, he enquired after; the Lackey which he had left at the Dutchess' door; he was answered than hea● as still in Gentery on which his ●●●plexity did redouble. He could 〈◊〉 believe that Count Topor had 〈◊〉 the night so fortunately. 〈◊〉 Duchess was a woman of great Circumspection: And this ●o●ng Count could at most serve 〈◊〉, but for Divertisement. His ●●ming to the Duchess' was to learn Manners, for it was a 〈◊〉 School for that; she did call him her Son; not but that she was too Young to have any of the age, but through a Kindness, which could not go far. Yet beauteous and well-made as he was, there had been some Talk about it with any other Person, than the Duchess; who had had the good ●●●une of being a Gallant, without the least suspicion of Gallan●●sing.  
The Count of Tarnaw, impatient to know the Truth of this, sent to his Man, to learn some news; Word was brought him 〈…〉 all that night no Person of Note had stirred forth of the Dutchesses: This put him into greater perplexities than ever. He changes his , and followed but with one single Servant, he designed to surprise the D●●●che●●. When that he saw come i●●● his Chamber the Bishop of ●●●avia.  
The Reception he made him with very cold. I see, dear Cousin, said the Prelate, that I came at 〈◊〉 time, and that you are not 〈◊〉 early in the Morning, but upon some great designs; but you know to what Persons of now profession are obliged; and 〈◊〉 that we are to obey ou● M●fl●●● Orders. I bring yo● 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉, continued he, which will not be very agreeable 〈◊〉. What? Interrupted the C●●●t first 〈◊〉 not being desirous to h●●● any thing discourse with him 〈…〉 the Q●●● 〈…〉 from seeing 〈◊〉 the Bishop surprised to hear 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 what he had to say, could 〈…〉 now he should th● 〈…〉 by some 〈…〉 the 〈◊〉 herself had ●●eady informed him of it. He ●old him that of truth it was that which had brought him ●hi●● 〈…〉 Queen having doubt 〈…〉, that there was some 〈◊〉 of that Conversation; which ●he had had with him in his country House, she had thought 〈…〉 Ho●●ours ●●e rest, and the Counts good, not to see him for some time, but as she did 〈◊〉 indifferently all the rest of the Court; and that this Advice was 〈◊〉 sufficient Consequence, to have him profit by it; That she had employed him, to declare it to 〈◊〉 as a near ●insman, and one of 〈…〉. The Count not 〈◊〉 moved at all that the Bishop said, replied, in such a serious manner, as would confound any man, That he knew well of what nature, the Obligation he owed him in this rencontre was, and that he might tell the Queen that he would obey her Orders, as she desired. You speak with such an Air, replied the Bishop, it seems as if I disobliged you. Once more, I am perfectly instructed, replied the Count, of all your Bounties; and in time and place, I shall thank you for them. Can you suspect me? interrupted the Prelates Not at all, replied Tarnaw▪ but I think that I should not have over much cause of confiding in a man, that should accuse me falsely to the Queen. Who could accuse you, replied the Bishop blushing? Have you some rivals that can be so much concerned at your good Fortune? The Count, who began to be 〈◊〉 of having his false Reasoning; 〈◊〉 I h●v● some, said he to 〈◊〉 fiercely, and that should med●● with any thing else than Gallanting. That does not concern 〈◊〉 said the good Prelate, in great 〈◊〉 order. I know not whether 〈◊〉 concerns you or not, replied the Count; But I know well that the King is informed, that ●●●●in man of your Character, 〈◊〉 ●ound out the way of making 〈◊〉 Declaration of Love unto the 〈◊〉 in his Mass Book. The L●rd Bishop, not being able to 〈…〉 clearing of a thing which 〈◊〉 him with Confusion▪ arose, and 〈…〉 king an hasty leave of the 〈◊〉 Farewell said he, you may 〈◊〉 profit of my Advices, if you 〈◊〉; but whencesoever they 〈…〉 will let you know that 〈…〉 in need of them, as much others▪ The Count, who thought 〈…〉 told him enough did let 〈…〉▪ ●o go himself about other ●●si●ess▪ and to execute the design which he had in his Heart, as well as in his mind.  
He went forth with that Servant, and wholly taken up with his Distrusts, he took the direct way to the Duchess' Palace; to-wards which he was no sooner come, but that he saw a man come forth, which was something near the Count of Topors pitch; and who under a disguise, did endeavour to hid his face with a kind of Robe or Cloak, which was then worn. He follows him, accost's him, and speaks to him. He presses him to discover himself, telling him, that it was to no purpose to hid himself, that he knew him, and that he was sure, he was the Count Topor. The other said not a word, goes on his way still, with as quick a Pace as he could, and lets Tarnaw talk on. He who would be fully informed of the business, seeing that there was no likelihood of being satisfied that way, loses his patience, speaks with a more loud 〈◊〉 threatening voice, of falling on this 〈◊〉 know person, whom he is absolutely resolved to know; but he having a Servant, and the other none, to have no Advantage over h●m, he sent him back: After which, renewing the Assault, You the happy Lover of the Duchess of Ostrog, said he to him, you shall 〈◊〉 escape me; I am single as well as you, and for the Trouble y●● give me, you must make me S●arer in all your adventure, or we must cut one another's throats. Le● get into this house, continued y●● (being then just before a Merchant's door, which he knew very well) and there we shall take measures more at leisure, to satisfy me one way or other. This unknown person, having made no difficulty to follow him, Tarnaw asked for a Chamber, where being locked in with his pretended ●●●al▪ Come it is time to leave off this Cloak and speak clearly, said he, for there are but us two here. The pretended Count of Topor, sitting in a Chair, still muffled in his Cloak, did neither answer or move: When the impatient and furious Tarnaw, coming near him took the end of his Cloak, and did pull it with such a force, that taking it from him, he failed but little of throwing him down Chair and all. The stress he made, and his Fury did hinder him at first from seeing with whom he had to do; but having laid his hand on the hilt of his Sword, to be in readiness, in case the other should require Satisfaction, he cast his eyes on him, and perceived that it was the Duchess. What an amazement was his! Never was man more confounded. He no sooner was come to himself again, but casting himself at the Lady's feet, Is it possible it should be you Madam? said he, (with a voice which sufficiently shown the Trouble which he had or that Error he had committed) How will you forgive me so rude a Violence? Yes Count, I forgive it you, replied the Duchess, smilingly; and I confess to you moreover, continued she, causing him to rise, that you never did any any thing in your life, that has pleased me so much as this; for by this I know that you have still some Kindness for me, and that the Queen's Charms have not wholly driven me out of your heart. Say rather, Madam replied the Count, That that Princess' Charms have not so much dazzled me, but that I acknowledge my fault. I had begged your pardon yesterday for it, continued he, if you had not been so cruel as to refuse hearing me, for a young Rival's sake, with whom you were doubtless comforting yourself of the los● of me. The Duchess laughing, confessed to him that little piece of Malice; and told him the Sorrow which she had received by it afterwards, and that in the Trouble that it had put her all the night long, she had disguised herself, as he then saw her, to go seek him at his own House, and make up some kind of Accommodation. Tarnaw, abandoning himself unto transports of Joy, and of Thanksgiving, for the Duchess' Kindness, he told her all that his heart could conceive of most tender.  
This Conversation, on which it is not necessary that I should extend any further, had in fine such Pleasures and Delights, that none but very passionate persons can be capable of conceiving: But in another place, there was at that time such things preparing, as would pre●ent them from enjoying long their mutu●● happiness.  
The Lord Bishop of Cracovia, always in readiness, and evermore Curious, had not failed at his going from the Count of Tarnaw, to leave one of his Servants behind to watch him. The Equipage in which he had found him so early, the Trouble which he had seen on his face, and all that he had said to him, more than all the rest, had raised divers Chimaeras in his head, and he would gladly have known, what was his Design; if it concerned not the Queen, who had taken the pains to outgo him, by advertising so ●●●ely this Lover of all that he had to say to him from her. This Servant was subtle, and twixt Man and Man there is an entire Confidence, so that this had no great ●as● in informing himself, of what he would know. He learned that the Count of Tarnaw had some broil with the Count of Topor, and that he was to seek the● him at the Duchess of Ostrog. He saw them whisper together in the Street, and had followed them to the Merchant's door, where he left them, to go give his Master a just account of it, who failed not of rendering himself immediately at Court, and of informing the King that there was a Quarrel betwixt the two Counts, on the account of the Duchess of Ostrog. The King, who loved Tarnaw exceedingly, and who did very much consider the Family of the other (which was one of the most Ancient and most Illustrious of the Kingdom) did presently give order to prevent this mischief; and the Lord Bishop of Cracovia, being the man, which he thought the most proper to be employed in such a business, he sent him, with a Captain of his Guards, and some Musqueteers, to arrest them both in the King's Name. The Lord Bishop did take upon him with delight this Commission. They all go together to this Merchant's house, and without any noise, that they might not fail of their Aim, the Prelate gets all alone up to the Chamber, where he had been told those Gentlemen were; he knocks, without saying a word; the door is opened, and he finds the Count Tarnaw, in conference with the other Cavalier, who were doubtless very much startted to see him. You see, says the Bishop to Tarnaw, who was the first that he met with, how I am appointed all this day to trouble you; but I do acquit myself more willingly of this Commission, then of that in the Morning. I come to arrest you both in the King's Name. To arrest us, replied the Count, more surprised then ever, and the Reason, I pray you? Of reason, replied the Bishop, you know there is sufficiency. Deliver both your Swords, continued he, and give me your Word, that you will not stir from hence, till all things be adjusted, or I will cause the Captain of the Guards which the King has sent, with twelve Musqueteers, to come up. The Count, who could not comprehend any thing in all that, fearing lest it should be some design of the Queens on the Duchess; Or that the Bishop would revenge himself, for what he had said to him in the Morning; he took him aside, and desired him not to reduce things to the last extremity; that there was no need for him to deliver his Sword, because that he had no quarrel; that he should send back the Captain with the Soldiers; and let him retire home with his Companion, who would be obliged to him for it. The Bishop answered, that it was the King's Order, and that he was troubled to see him receive so ill all that came from him, and that 〈◊〉 taken that Commission upon him; but however, he doing his Duty, it was his to obey. I obey, replied Tarnaw, with an angry voice, to an Order which has been given, but to insult over me; here is, continued he, laying his hand on his Sword, that which shall give by Force, what you refuse me, and in spite of you, of your Captain, and Musqueteers, I will retire home with this Cavalier. The Bishop, though of a bold Spirit, knowing the Count's Valour, though that it was time to call the Men up, and did call them; Upon which the Count taking him by the hand, told him, showing him the Duchess, who had not discovered herself yet, That seeing he carried things to that extremity, he should give him an account of all that should happen to that Person, which he was willing to leave in his Custody. And presently drawing his Sword, he met the Captain whom he found upon the Stairs, and bid him to retire or that he would run his Sword through him. The Captain answered him, that he had no order to offer him any Violence; but only to Arrest him. You have sufficiently done your Duty, replied the Count; return to the King; and tell him that within this hour I will be at the Castle, I give you my Word for it. The Officer, who thought that the Word of such a Person, as was Count Tarnaw, was sufficient, whom he would not disoblige, retired with his men below Stairs, there to wait for the Bishop's orders  
This Illustrious Prelate, was in a pleasant Surprisal, when the Count came again into the Chamber. The Duchess, who did foresee that all the Consequences of this business would fall upon her, thought it would be the best way to suppress it as well as she could. She had drawn near to the Bishop, while the Count was speaking to the Captain, and making herself known, she had not had any occasion for many words, to persuade him to what she desired. He was so surprised at the sight of her, that she could not forbear laughing at it, notwithstanding all the Disorder she was in. The Bishop was not yet perfectly come to himself again, when the Count returned to them. The Prelate asked pardon of them both, but especially of the Duchess: He informed them of the Mistake, which had produced such an Order from the King; & how the Noise had been spread abroad that Count Tarnaw had some quarrel with Count Topor, and that they had been met in the Street going to fight. The two Persons concerned not knowing that it was to the Bishop they were obliged for all this Bustle, all the business was turned into Raillery; and Tarnaw made some Excuses to the Bishop, for his Rashness towards him. They stood in need of him, that he might manage the Duchess' Reputation in this business: She was not wanting in Care and Ingenuity to recommend it to him. He was concerned in it, as well as they; for he had had his share of the Raillery, if it should be known, that he was the mistaken Person, who had first carried the news of it to Court. But he could not dispense himself from relating the thing as it was to the King, and the King could not fail of confiding it to the Queen, as of truth it happened.  
Mean time the Bishop, being retired, with his Followers, the Count reconducted the Duchess home, and after that, retired to his own House, where he found one of the Queen's Pages, who had been waiting for him above an hour, with this Note.  
I Am still expecting the account of the resolution You have taken. Are things so equal, that it merits such long Consideration? You caused a great deal of trouble yesterday to Persons to find you out. Where were you? You doubtless stood in need of Council, and You were gone for it. How weak you are? You move pity in me, my poor Tarnaw! Be with me at ten; I have something of greater moment to impart. Peradventure that the Bishop of Cracovia may have given You some Orders from me; They would be sufficiently Just; But I must see You once more, to know what's to be done with you.  
He had scarce finished the reading of that Note, when another Page brought him this.  
THere is a Noise abroad, that You have some quarrel with the Count Topor, & that the Duchess of Ostrog, is the cause of it. To believe this, I must have other Witnesses than the common Report. Is your blood no dearer to You? You deserve not that one should take care of it. I forbidden You however to fight, for any body soever, and I charge You to come with the soon to give me an account Yourself of that difference. You know what You own me; fear the effects of my Indignation.  
The Count having read this last Note also, told the Page, that he would go himself, to carry the Answer to the Queen, and that he would be with her in a quarter of an hours time.  
He saw the necessity there was for him to go to the Castle both to lay the Noise of this pretended Combat, and to prevent by his presence, the raising of new stories; as of truth there were many of divers sorts spread abroad already.  
The King, having learned the whole story from the Bishop, was pleased with Laughing at it, and to say, That he had never seen any honest Woman have so much Gallantry as the Duchess of Ostrog had: And presently going to the Queen's Apartment, he failed not to give her a fine relation of all that Adventure. If Tarnaw had not been concerned, she had doubtless been pleased with it; but she had too great a Share in this, to laugh at it as much as the thing deserved. The Satisfaction she had in it was, to tell it to every body, because in so doing she knew the Wrong and Spite, which she should do the Duchess. So that it presently became public; to which every one added Circumstances according to his own fancy; for no body did know the true Cause of the Duchess' Disguise; nor what was the Count of Tarnaws design, when he had risen so early in the Morning, to conduct her to the Merchants; he that could see her day and night at her own House. It was easy to perceive, that there was some Mystery in the business; and that was the Mystery, which gave occasion for all those discourses, in which the Bishop had his share.  
Tarnaw having rendered himself at the Castle, the first that he found there was Count Topor, who coming up to him, with a smiling Countenance, said, That more honour had been done him that day, than he merited, in being thought capable of giving any Jealousy to such a man as he, and bold enough to measure his Sword with him. Count Tarnaw embracing him, answered with the like Air, That he had no desire to have a Love-quarrel with a Tongue Cavalier so well made as he; but if that by ill fortune, there should ever be any such thing, on the Duchess' account, He entreated him that she might decide the Difference. Ending these words he left him, and passed into the Queen's Apartment, where she who was wont to convey him into her Chamber, came to tell him, that he could not see her for divers Reasons. The Count, who was going to render this visit, as a Criminal would appear before his Judges, without enquiring into the Reasons, nor making any further Instances to be admitted, in that he came upon the Queen's immediate Order, He only bowed to the Lady, and returned home; whence he stirred not all the rest of the day, having need of some little Rest, after the night that he had passed.  
Mean time the Noise of this business, that had passed from the Court to the City, was gone from thence to the Country also, and at last unto the Duke of Ostrogs Ears. The News surprised him; he became upon it very melancholic and fretful. He did perceive that the Duchess had not carried her Revenge very long; and if this was the first Folly that she had committed, her temper had had need of her Virtue, to be wise. Nevertheless, having his mind wholly taken up with the Queen's cruelties towards him, the Joy which he had at her share in this business did comfort him as to all the rest; and I believe that he would not have been no Cuckold, considering the Satisfaction he received, from that blinded Princess being deceiv- by a man, who so little deserved to be preferred before him. He came to Town again, at least to triumph on the Queen's Account, though he was a Loser on that of his Wives. He appeared very angry at first against the Duchess; with biting Raillery's, harsh Usage, and severe Rebukes. The Duchess took it patiently; and did endeavour to justify the Righteousness of her Intentions; but finding that the Duke continued treating of her ill; she flew out as well as he, and began to reproach him: As if it became him, whose manifest Treachery was not to be regarded, to insult over a Woman, whom mere Chance, and bare Appearances could render guilty before men. So that things being almost equal on both sides, there was mention made of an Accommodation, and the Principal Article was; That for the mutual Union, the Duke should renounce all the Queen's Gallantry, and should no more see her in private; And that the Duchess should do the same with Count Tarnaw. I believe that at that present their Intentions might be good; But in matters of Love there is no forswearing of any thing. Swear, not to see any more that which one Loves? is an Oath, which even gives a mind to do it; and but too many of those Perjured Persons are daily seen.  
The Queen was startled at the Count's Indifferency. She thouht that the Refusal, which he had met with at the Chamber door, would have whetted the more his desires of seeing her; that he would return to the Charge again; that he would employ some of his Friends towards her; or at least that he would write to her to justify himself, or to beg her pardon; but she saw none of all this; and the whole day passed away without hearing any thing from him. Her Soul was more moved at this Indifferency, than at all that had passed besides; and she did call this the height of Perfidiousness. She could not forbear the next day from sending to him; but he was gone out very Early on hunting.  
It was an Exercise that the Count loved very much, but he had not taken that pretence, but to be some days out of Town, on a Letter which the Duchess had writ to to him, as follows.  
THE War has not Lasted long; at last Peace is concluded; But on such conditions, as are difficult to keep on both sides, as we both have been ready to promise them: Which is, That we absolutely renounce all that which had caused our Dis-union. That is to say, in my sense, all that is most Charming in the World, which is the pleasure of seeing that which one Loves. I require but three day's absence from you, to bring some to Composition, who will be obliged, at last, to agree to all that shall be required. I would only have the satisfaction of not being the first in Breaking of the Treaty. Let me know where you will be, and let me hear from you at least twice a day.  
The Queen could not digest her Anger for the Counts proceed so contrary to her desires. She fell into an extreem Trouble of mind upon it; But her Resenment was still more bend on the Duchess, than on that Lover. She considered her as the only Cause of all the Crosses that she had met with, since her coming into that Kingdom, and she was resolved to be revenged, at what rate soever.  
She knew that the Duke was returned from the Country, and that the King had sent for him; so that she gave order, that when he should come to Court, he should be told that she would speak with him. Sigismond, who knew as well as the rest of the Kingdom, that the Duke of Ostrog, was a man of Courage, and of Capacity to let fly his Resentments far and near, in respect of what had passed betwixt Count Tarnaw and his Wife: he thought that in Prudence he ought to prevent the Consequences; not doubting but that all his Court would take parties with those two Lords, whereby great disorders might follow. He learned that the Duke was returned to the City; & he easily imagined that it was to that purpose. He sent him word that he would speak with him. But the whole Court was very busy, how this matter should be made up; and in truth those of this nature are very difficult to be reconciled. The Duke went to the Castle, and finding that persons were very much concerned, especially the King, in finding out of Terms, and Reasons, wherewith to make him bear the better the new Title with which his Wife had honoured him; He anticipated all that could be said to him. What need is there of disguising to me the matter, I know that if I am not a Cuckold before Heaven, I am so before men; but I know also, that we must fit ourselves to the Custom of divers ages, and to consolate myself of my affliction, I have but too many examples before my Eyes: I aim not at Count Tarnaws life; all his Blood would not make the Duchess the honester Woman; and should my Honour depend on that only, I well see that there would be no Return of it: All that I can do is, to wait till he be Married, to render him the Change. The business being thus turned into Raillery, the King was overjoyed to see him take that Course, which he did second with divers solid reasons, giving a great deal of Praise unto the Duke's Conduct. That Action was after that as an happy Plank for all those that found themselves in the number of the betrayed Husbands; there being nothing indeed more ridiculous in the World, than to cast one's self away for being dishonoured by a Woman. Give me those Wise and Prudent Persons, as was the Duke, who on all other accounts, was an Example of Valour, as well as of Cuckoldship here.  
He going from the King, a Gentleman brought him the order from the Queen. He presently thought of the promise which he had made the Duchess; but he was to obey, or rather, he was to yield unto that Bias, which carried him that way. He did appear so constrained, and so perplexed at the fight of that Princess, that she could not restrain from Laughing; and letting herself go unto her usual Humour, which was free, and full of Gaiety: Well my Lord Duke, said she, have you not a very honest Wife, and is not Tarnaw an undoubted Friend? Friendship, Madam, said he, is Subject unto such Treacheries; but the Count is yet more guilty in point of Love; he will be sooner pardoned for having betrayed a Friend, continued he, than the fairest Princess in the World. The Queen answered him Coldly, That she did take no further care of that business, than so much as would make her Sport. If I was concerned in it, continued she, I should think the Persons sufficiently punished with the Confusion it hath brought upon them. But how have you resented the business? And how do you carry yourself towards Tarnaw? The Duke gave her to understand, that he was not a man that would take so much to heart, a business of which he was not the Master; that which way so ever it had come to pass, he thought that it fell to his Wife's share, to take upon her all the Blame of the adventure, seeing that it was she that had committed the Fault: That as to the Count, he expected from Time and Opportunity some means to revenge himself, like a man of Honour, but not as a declared Enemy. The Queen having said some pleasant things on his Maxims which she well approved of, the Duke replied, That he had Copied them out of the Practice of the greatest men in Antiquity; and that he did not use, in things, of Consequence, to regulate himself by the common Opinion. The Queen, who was desirous to fall upon that which did concern herself the most, replied, That all that was very well; but that howsoever it was probable, he would not permit Tarnaw to continue having the same Assiduities with the Duchess: Why not? Madam, replied the Duke, who presently perceived, that this was that thing the Queen did wish for. The mischief is already done, continued he, and it would be a great Folly in me to be so cautious, where there is no Remedy. That should have been done in time and season. What would you endure, said the Queen, with some trouble,— I shall not only endure, said he interrupting her, that he should do as he has formerly done, but I will go instantly from hence to seek him, and entreat him so to do. That is to be very Complaisant, replied she, and this may very well be called, to be a Commodious Man. But to let you see, continued she, the little Concern I take in it: Know that I am pleased at your going to see the Count; and I do Order you, at the same time to bring him here to me. You may think it may be, that I have a mind he should ask me Pardon, continued she, and that we should be reconciled. Your example might be followed, and peradventure that I should not find it difficult to imitate you, if I had no other cause of Complaint against him; but know that he has offended me by a more sensible way, than that the of Duchess; and that it is three days since I have given Order unto the Bishop of Cracovia, to tell him from me, that he should never more appear before my presence. The Duke both surprised and rejoiced at this news, asked the Queen, if it were possible that the Count should give her any cause of treating him so ill? Yes, replied she, and were it not for the Noise that it might make in the World, I had spoken of it to the King. But I cannot better punish him, continued she, than in confounding of him before you, and in reproaching his Unworthiness myself in person. At this proposition the Duke was in his Dumps, and could have wished that the Queen had persisted in her first Resolution, or at least that she had charged some other with that Commission. But there was no way to avoid it; she would absolutely have it, that it should be him that should bring to her the Count, and that he should be Witness, after what manner she would treat him. The Duke was too clearsighted, and did know the Queen too well, to fall into that Trap. But that Princess' Charms did so dazzle him, that if his life had been at stake, he could not refuse what she required of him. This is cruel, Madam, said he, thus to exact from my obedience so hard a Task: I shall do it however, continued he, seeing that you command it. But the Repentance of it may cost me my Life. Upon this he took leave of the Queen, who promised him, to set this Constraint, which he did to himself for her sake, upon account.  
Count Topor, very proud of the Honour that this noise had done him, of being in love with the Duchess, had a mind to become so in good earnest: He undertook to visit her more frequently than before. But knowing that a Passion according to Form, aught to begin by a Declaration, he was divers days in meditating one which might please his Mistress. They were fine words which he composed, afterwards writ, but which he did blot out as often as he writ them; and when he was resolved, and had agreed upon those which he would use, he had forgot all again so soon as he came before the Duchess; so that he was forced to stand to those which the Public had made for him.  
The Duchess could easily perceive a change both in the Humour and Manners of the Count She might have guessed at his design; and at some other time she might have diverted herself with it. But at that time she was not capable of any Pleasure; and her mind wholly taken up with Tarnaws concerns, could not find time to examine the bashful sighs of Young Topor. He kept her Company. He had a graceful sweet Disposition, which in that seat that her soul was in then, did better please her, than all the Entertainments of the most refined Wits, that daily visited her. But that which made her the more to consider him, was, that he had been very useful to her, in recalling back the wavering Constancy of weak Tarnaw; and that he might yet serve her in other designs.  
The Count Topor, had a good Access with the Queen; not so far as to be in the Number of the Selected, which did take up all the cares and pleasures of that Princess: For she would have none but such men as were ready perfected, and not such as were yet to be modelised: And those of Count Topors age, she would send to the Duchess, as to the School of Tenderness; but all that had the appearance of a well-made and accomplished man, had access in her Apartment. And therefore Topor might pretend to a good Reception there. For he was a very beautiful Youth; and nothing was more regular than his Person.  
The Duchess, that went no longer to Court, thought that she could not find a man more fit than that Young Count, by whom to be informed of all the proceed of her Husband towards the Queen, and that in that disposition of heart, which he had for her, he would embrace with Zeal that occasion of serving her. As of truth she had no soonner proposed the business to him, but he promised to have an Eye on all the actions of the Duke, and that there should pass nothing in any thing that she had a desire to know, but he would give her a most faithful Account of it. The Young Count was quickwitted, and very dextrous; and that Commission suiting with his Genius, there was no fear, that any thing should escape his Diligence.  
The Duke had no sooner been with the Queen, but that the Duchess was informed by her young Spy, of that Visit, and of the long Conference which he had had with that Princess; and that presently after he had taken Horse, to go seek the Count of Tarnaw. These news did much alarm the Duchess; she feared it should be some design of a Combat; though she had been told, that the King had taken care to prevent that mischief. But for the Duke at his going from the Queen, who could not but be vexed against Tarnaw, to immediately go to seek him! that could not but foretell Evil. In the trouble which that caused her, she was a thousand times on the point of running herself after the Duke; when at last this Note was brought to her.  
I Have newly received a visit from the Duke. And you may imagine how great was my Surprisal; But that which will amaze you more, will be to learn, that he is come here, to bring me to the Queen. I obey, but fear you nothing; for this is but an ill way to my heart; and at my coming from thence, I am more yours than ever.  
Tarnaw.  
This Note instead of composing her mind, did cast her into a thousand times more terrible Perplexities. She had almost rather that the Duke and Count had fought, than to hear of that tender Combat which was going to be betwixt her Lover, and her Rival. She could not forgive the Count, for exposing himself to it. It was as to her an absolute Treachery; and whatever should happen of it, she was resolved to renounce for ever, all that Tenderness which she had for him. To which did follow such Impatiencies and Vexations, as none but a woman can well conceive.  
It is confessed, that the Count might very well have defended himself, from obeying an Order, which was not delivered to him, with that Authority, as did speak, that the Queen would necessarily have it obeyed. The Duke was too much Interested to acquit himself of his Commission with Candour. But a Queen, who did send his very Rival to see after him; a Queen so Charming as that was, had not need to make use of an absolute Authority. There was a kind of Ambition in obeying her, such as could not easily be passed by, by such a Person as was Count Tarnaw. Not but that he did hope, in spite of all the dangers he was to run through, to preserve his heart wholly for the Duchess, as he had writ to her; but there was too much Presumption in the very writing of it. That heart had once already yielded itself, and was not grown stronger since that time.  
He came then into the Queen's Presence, who excellently well acted the part of an offended Princess. The Duke would have withdrawn, but she stayed him to be Spectator of the scene, as she had promised him. There was nothing but Slights and Scorns, and even Injuries, for the Count; who well knew that he but too well deserved them, both in respect to the Queen, and in respect to the Duke; but finding, that he was not charged with Particulars, and that he was taxed but in General, because the Queen would not specify before the Duke the faults he had committed; he had so much Insolency, as to tell the Queen, that he knew not of what she could accuse him; and did in a kind of malicious way press her to declare his Complisses and Accusers. At which that Princess being more enraged than ever, she Banished him from her presence.  
The Duke, the too happy Duke, charmed with the success of his Journey, did by an excess of Generosity, implore the Queen's Grace, and demand pardon for Tarnaw; but that incensed Princess told him, that she would never see him more; and that she would have him to carry that Order from her to him. The Duke answered her with an humble Voice, yet such as did express the joy of his heart, That he was ready to obey her; but that it was a very nice part for a Rival; that it was very probable the Count would not give any great Faith unto that which he should say to him, if she had not the Bounty to give him that Order in Writing; which the Queen, who was almost dead with Impatiency of being rid of him, did grant presently. After which adding some little Kindness unto the Joys which the Duke already felt, she did so raise his Spirits, that he scarce felt himself. He at last tore himself from so many Enchantments, quite lost with Love. But he was no sooner at the Castle gate, but he found he had left upon the Table the Queen's Order; so that he was forced to return, for it was the most essential piece of all his Commission. He entered the Chamber somewhat abruptly; and there he finds the Count Tarnaw with that Perfidious Princess. It is easy to imagine how great was his Amazement; but not the Vexation, Rage, and Fury of his Soul! Oh! Heavens, cried he aloud, is it possible I should be thus played upon! The Queen, who was extremely surprised to see him return, passing on the sudden, as she used to do, from the Surprisal unto the Address of the adventure, did let herself lose, to such breaking forth of Laughter, as reduced the Miserable Duke to despair; who looking on her with Eyes sparkling with fury, went out, without any more words.  
All those devouring Poisons accompanying him home, there he found the additional Grief of a Wife almost in as ill a humour as himself, which gave him but a very could Reception. They met by accident in the same Chamber; where it may be said they saw one another without looking: At least they were there long enough together without speaking. Mean time they were not so wholly taken up with their own Vexations, but that they sought to guests at one another's Troubles. The Duke did mistrust that his Dear Spouse had already heard of the Visit which he had rendered to the Queen; which doubtless was the Cause of her being out of humour: But the Duchess was more troubled than he, in unravelling the true cause of her Husband's sorrow; and Women being naturally more Curious than Men, she could withhold no longer the desires she had of informing herself of a thousand Suspicions. She was the first therefore which broke silence, in ask the Duke, Whence proceeded some certain Trouble which she saw spread over his face; he who ought to have Cause of being the most contented of all mortals, after the tender and obliging Reception which he had met with at Court. It is true, replied the Duke coldly, that if my happiness consisted only in a favourable Reception, I should have cause of being satisfied. What then (interrupted the Duchess) Is it that such an heart as yours, requires something further than to have a Rival out of favour, and to be kindly received by the Object it loves? Confess the truth (continued She,) You would appear troubled before me, while you glory in your Soul of your Conquest. Do not force yourself, (added She) I know all, I know how far your acknowledgements have gone, in requital of those Kindnesses you have received. They have obliged you to take upon you the care of bringing back your Rival. I think it is much; and that you must needs fear but little his success, or that you are very complaisant in things of such great niceties. The Duke surprised, that his Wife was already so well informed of what had passed, did feel an increase of Sorrow, and Confusion, by all she said to him, which were as so many severe Hints upon all the cruel Adventures of that day. He made no answer, which made her press him more yet; and asked him, whence proceeded his silence? Whether it was that she was deceived and did falsely accuse him? No Madam, (replied the Duke) But such pains have been taken to instruct you so well of things, that I think it not necessary to tell you more. I should be better pleased yet (replied the Duchess) to learn them from yourself; especially (continued she) in what concerns your Negotiation, whether you have been well rewarded for your pains; whether your Rival has been received, as you could wish; whether— Ay, Madam, that's it, interrupted the Duke, rising, which does concern you the most; and I am willing to give you that satisfaction: Know then, continued he, in a passionate tone, that the Count is the happiest of all men. I have been the Queen's property 'tis true, and that was not according to her promise; but to my sorrow, and doubtless for yours also, added he going off, Tarnaw is beloved, as much as he loves, and we are both abused.  
Though the Duchess might have expected some such thing, and that she had not over much cause, neither to believe so concerned a Lover as was her Husband; She could not, seeing so much probability, but be very much grieved at it, and yet pleased at his retiring, that he might not perceive the Disorders of her Soul.  
In this interval enters Count Topor, in continuance of his services unto the Duchess; he was come to tell her, how that the Duke accompanied with Count Tarnaw, had been that day with the Queen; and moreover that this last, being gone out first, one of the Women, had retained him to bring him back to the Queen the back way, while the Duke went out; adding, that he knew no further of the business. But that the Duke being returned again to the Queen, he had come forth presently again, with a very dissatisfied countenance. As for the Count he was there still, when he came to bring her the News.  
The Duchess being senseless and raving, during the recital of this cruel story, remained also some time after without speaking to the young Count Who perceiving that the advices, which he took such pains to give her, were not very pleasing, did retire himself with begging pardon, for serving her better peradventure than she desired to be: No, My Lord, You deceive yourself, said the Duchess, I confess that there is no great satisfaction to learn how one is betrayed; but with me it is a thousand times more cruel to be so, and not to know it; so that your cares and troubles are not useless to me, nor shall they remain without acknowledgements. You must make an end Count, continued she sighing, and if you have any tenderness for me, as you express of late, you must aid me in overcoming the only Obstacle that is to your desires. I have naturally some inclinations for you, and you are in a way of expecting all from me. The Count, to whom so much had never been said before, at least by the Duchess, for whom he had one of those passions of Romances, which are all fierceness and sighs, casts himself at her feet in the tenderest manner imaginable, thinking that there was no more but that to do, to make an end of softening his Mrs. heart. But she caused him to rise, and told him, That she would have other kind of proofs of his Love than those. That he could not but know, that she loved Count Tarnaw; but that seeing she was betrayed by him, she would be revenged. Brave Topor did instantly offer his Arm and his Life. No, replied she smilingly, It is neither your Blood or your Valour that I will put to trial; Only find out a way to make me see with my own eyes, how I am betrayed; and my revenge is ready, without your being in the least concerned any further in it. As to the Duke, continued she, I am fully satisfied, and I have no more measures to observe with him; but for the Count, I confess that be it a weakness of mind, or of heart, I have need to be better informed, not to doubt any further. I must convince my heart of it with my own eyes, that I may have the Power to tear it from him; after which it shall be wholly yours. This Lover, that on this account would have attempted all the most difficult things in the World, promised boldly all to the Duchess, as if she needed but to speak, and the business was done. But she whose mind was moulded quite another way, and who knew how many difficulties would be met with, in her designs, permitted not herself to be overtaken with the vain Ideas of the Young Count She would conduct this business after her one way, and said to Topor, That he should only go to the Castle, to learn News of Count Tarnaw, and so return to her.  
He was scarce gone from her, when the Bishop of Cracovia entered, who was come to see the Duke. The pretence of his visit was taken, on the business which had passed betwixt Count Tarnaw and the Duchess. This Prelate had had such a considerable share in it, as did invite him to come and justify himself towards the Husband, as to the Noise it had made: But his designs did reach farther. They tended in fortifying the Duke in the Resentments which he ought to have of such an Affront; and in offering him a means of Revenge. He subtly magnifyed, through the descant which he made on each particular, the Cause he had to hate the Count; he set before him the shameful Consequences which attend such Adventures, and pointing at the necessity there was, for a man of his Honour and Quality, not to let such a Treachery go unpunished, he thought to have reduced him to a fit condition, to make him embrace with Zeal, an important occasion that there was, of ruining so base a Friend. The way is easy, said he: The King this night goes to lie out of Town, to be ready for the Chase to morrow. The Queen has found out some weak pretences to excuse herself from it; but of truth, it is to have the freedom of passing the whole night with Count Tarnaw. What I tell you here, continued he, with a tone and air to render the thing most certain, I have if from the Original. I leave you to think, if it be not a certain way of Revenge for you; and if giving notice to the King of it, like a true Subject, You can fail of having them surprised together, and of rendering yourself at the same time considerable with the King. The Duke strangely surprised at the Prelate's proposition, gave him a full Attention. There was no doubt but that Jealousy, which was very strong in him, did find great satisfaction in that design, and Vengeance did also spur him on, to make use of it. But his soul did find so much Unworthiness in the act, that he could never consent to it. He therefore told the Bishop, that he could not resolve to do what he proposed, and that there were other braver ways of Revenge. That he had learned to use that Sword which he wore; and that there was but that only way, which could give him satisfaction as to Tarnaw's action. The Bishop strangely surprised, and as sorry that he had no better success in his design, dissembled his Spite and Confusion; and to patch things up again, he seemed to be partly of the Duke's mind, of whom he begged Secrecy, and retired home, to think on what he had to do.  
Churchmen rarely forgive. That Revenge which they forbidden in others, is a delicate Morsel which they reserve for themselves. This had his Soul too much ulcerated with the Queen's Cruelties, and above all against Tarnaw. It was not to be hoped, that he would let scape so fair an occasion of ruining them both. His Policy had prompted him at the first to make use of the Duke; but seeing he was so weak (as he thought) as to refuse those means which were offered him, as to his Revenge, he knew the way of useing them himself; and no body should know from whence the Blow came, unless the Duke contrary to his word should divulge the Secret. He takes a Pen, and having the perfect art of counterfeiting his own hand writing, he wrote this Note to be given secretly to the King, when arrived at that Country house, where he was to lie that night.  
A Faithful Subject thinks he does his duty in advertising his Prince, when he is dishonoured. If with a little diligence you this night repair to the Castle, there will be found at any time of coming, the Queen up, and Tarnaw at her feet.  
This Note finished, he sealed it, and sent it to a man who he had near the King, who was wholly devoted to the Prelate; but he took care to instruct him withal, by what means he should make it fall into his Master's hands. His Heart being at rest on that side, he was to please it on the other, which did no less move him. He raised his Rage so far, as to have the satisfaction of being Witness of the success of the Note. The Queen's Chamber answered into the great Garden; there was a Gallery under the windows, through which that Princess could descend into that Garden, when she had a desire to walk. The Bishop who had power enough in the Castle to cause all places to be opened to him, at all hours, thought to have found what he sought for, and that this Gallery was a fit place from whence to see, without danger of discovery, all that he desired to see. This only Imagination did almost bring him beyond himself; he fancied a thousand things, which were to be acted in that Chamber; which thoughts transported him. The hour finally was no sooner come of executing his design, but he took the way to the Castle, and rendered himself at the quarters of him, who had the care of the Garden; the entry into which he soon obtained under specious Pretences. The night was very dark. He is the most satisfied of all men: But he was not yet where he wished to be; and having found the door of the stairs of that Gallery shut, he found that he had rejoiced too soon, and that nothing was done yet to any purpose, except his Wit, or rather some help from Heaven did assist him in climbing up to that Gallery. Persons of that Character, are so well accustomed to implore on all accounts the assistance of the Heavenly grace, that they employ their Vows & Prayers indifferently on good & bad things. Our Prelate goes and comes, seeks, runs all over the Garden without lighting of any thing that could so much as second his good desires: At last as he stood gazing towards the windows, whence there came forth a very great light, he thought that he saw something hanging on the Gallery. He presently takes hold of it, finds it to be a Rope, and that rope a Ladder, to get up thither. What joy was this for him! Thus was the Heavens opened; he doubted not but that it was the happy Counts Amorous Ladder; and without losing of time in reasoning, whether one might with prudence adventure on it, carried headlong by his Passion, he gins to climb with such Nimbleness, and Dexterity, as did outgo the natural disposition of his body; for the good Lord was somewhat loaden with matter. He was already got to the uppermost Round with his hand, when Misfortune would so have it, that an unlucky Spirit on the sudden loosened the Ladder, to make him break his neck. He had a Leg out of Joint; and that was not all neither, for his Back, his Head, his Arms, and all the other parts of his Body, were made sensible of so cruel a Fall: Never was such a Disaster, none but one so hardened unto misfortunes as he was, could endure the pain, and live. At the first he let go a very great Outcry, which he could not retain; after which using great violence with himself, to refrain from making any further noise, he endeavoured to drag himself as well as he could towards that door he had come in at. He had rather have died a thousand times than given that satisfaction to the Queen and the Count, to let them know that it was he: Oh! Unfortunate day, cried he to himself, What a Night hast thou provided for me? He was creeping as fast as he could, suffering in his Soul, as well as in his Body, such pains as it would be difficult to imagine, when he saw some People with a Lantern which was coming towards him: He was not in a condition to avoid them; Who goes there? cried a Man? He was so out of himself, that he knew not the Voice; and without speaking his Name, he desired him to call some body to assist him in an Accident that had befallen him; What's that I hear, said another? Is it not the Bishop of Cracovia? Ah! My Lord, replied the pitiful Prelate, with a strange surprisal, finding that it was the King; Pardon an unfortunate Wretch, who is going to give up the Ghost, if no pity be taken of him. Sigismond, the Prince of the World, the most tender, moved as much as he had been affrighted at this discourse, inquired of him what he ailed, and whether he was wounded, and what he was come there to do? But the unfortunate Prelate, whether through the Anguish he felt, by his fall, or the Trouble he was in at the King's presence, did on the sudden lose his speech and fainted away.  
Now that I may not confound my Recital with divers Incidents one upon another, which would be difficult to unravel all at once, as they happened that night, I shall begin to clear this, concerning the Bishop.  
The Duke, who had a more generous Soul than that of the Prelate, not being able to resolve on the ruin of his Rival, through such means, would not however neglect such an Advice; but designed to advantage himself by it, if not as an open Enemy, yet however as a Jealous Lover. He had had the same thoughts of that Gallery as the Bishop had. But he was so cautious as to fit himself with a Ladder of Rope, which had already served him in other occasions, better peradventure then this was. He came to the Garden, and through the means of some Iron hooks, which he cast with strength of arm on the Gallery, having found the means of fastening his Ladder, he had got up very happily; leaving his Machine hanging, that in case of necessity, it might always be ready to descend.  
The Queen was in her Chamber with the happy Tarnaw, without the least care or fear, having no other witness, but Love; rel●hing all the delights which that God is capable to afford. The Bedside on which they were, was so disposed that all could be seen that was done there from the Windows, whose Curtains by ill fortune were left undrawn; so that the overcurious Duke, did see with his own eyes such things, as sufficiently did punish his Curiosity. The Queen was seated on a pile of Cushions, of Crimson Damask, and the Count near her, on the Carpet which covered the Estrade, having his fine head negligently resting on that Princess knees; who passing her hand over his face, Well Tarnaw, said she, will you escape from me any more; and shall I again be put to the trouble of seeking for you? I will infuse so much Love into you, added she with some passion, before you get out of my hands again, that you shall have no more eyes but for me: I consent to it my Princess, answered this Lover, with a passionate air, Redouble, if it be possible, that heat that I feel for you: It can cost me but my Life. But the pleasure to die for so charming a Princess, is better than the happiest Life, that the Heavens can give. You have forgot the Duchess then, replied the Queen languishingly. Ah! Madam, replied that Lover, I have forgot all; and I only remember that I love, and that I am beloved of all that which is most charming in the World. That is not enough yet, replied the Queen; I have something more to exact from your passion. What can you ask of me Madam, replied he, but what my heart will rejoice at the performance of? I will have you, continued the Queen, to tell me your whole story with the Duchess. Tarnaw began to sigh! You sigh, said that Princess? Yes Madam, replied that Lover, I sigh, because that I cannot guests at the pleasure you can have, in a Recital which can no longer have any thing that's pleasing for me, and much less for you. But the Queen being resolved to be satisfied, the Count was forced to put himself in a readiness to obey her. The Duke, who till then, had opened his Eyes and Ears, unto things that did burst his heart, was preparing with this story for such a Regalia as would make an end of killing him. And I verily believe that this time he had wished to have been both deaf and blind: But he was to follow his destiny. Courage, said he, Let us use the utmost of our Patience. When a certain noise which was coming from that side his Ladder was on, through the stress which the Bishop made in getting up, made him turn his head, and obliged him at the same time to go see what it was: He no sooner perceived that it was a man, whose Curiosity it may be did carry him unto that Boldness, as to know for what use the Ladder was there, but loosening presently the Hooks, he sent him down again faster than he had a mind to go. He heard him cry out, but he little troubled himself with it; his soul was so filled with Spite and Rage, that there was no room left for Pity and Compassion. If he had known that it was the Bishop, he had consolated himself by it of part of his troubles; for he loved him not; and that was the only Pleasure that he was then capable of. He for some time after still lent an ear to observe, whether this Adventure would not have some other conclusion. He thought the man very patiented to make no more noise than he did. But he was strangely surprised when he heard the King's voice; he knew it too well, and it was too different from others to be mistaken. He did not well apprehend what He said; but as he thought He was speaking to the man that was fallen; which he fancied might be some of his People, that he had sent to learn what passed on that side. He lost no time; there was none to lose; and knocking two or three times at the Queen's Chamber door, he caused a great Amazement in those two Lovers. The Queen strangely affrighted, risen with her Gallant to endeavour to get him off; but too late; the other doors were already seized on: Fear increases; she doubts not but that it is the King: She knows not what to do: No place secure to conceal the poor Tarnaw in; there was nothing but the Chimney, which used to be locked up. She runs there with him, but no hopes of opening it. All thing conspire their Ruin. There's greater knockin than ever. The Queen is passed all hopes; at last Tarnaw makes a last attempt, and the danger giving him a double strength, he breaks the lock, and maugre all other Obstacles, he opens the Chimney, and finds it garnished with two persons, which the great Distraction he was in, did not permit him to discern at first. The Queen, who was in too great a Disorder of mind to perceive it, thinks of nothing, seeing that door open, then to run at that they knocked at; and finds that it was the Duke of Ostrog: She remained confounded at it at first! But having a little reassured herself, through the joy she had that it was not that which she feared; she set herself in a kew of quarrelling with the Duke, and asked with what Insolency he durst come at that hour thus to disturb her in her Chamber, to kill her with Fear? It is not time now Madam, replied the Duke very seriously, and with a loud voice, to treat me ill. I have seen all, I have heard all. And what have you seen or heard? interrupted that Princess, With what Authority do you come to examine my actions? Authority Madam replied the Duke? I know what I own you; But I give you notice that he that has all Right here, the King, is in the Garden. The King in the Garden! replied the Queen, changing her tone, than you do revenge yourself my Lord Duke. It would not be against you Madam, answered the Duke, that I would revenge myself. I can ruin you, I can save you; but make use of me, you will have occasion for it, for the King is not here for nothing. Would you be generous, replied the Queen, to that height to forget.— You need not to fear any thing from me, Madam, replied the Duke, and Count Tarnaw needs not to hid himself; It should not be in such an occasion as this that I would appear his Enemy. But who do I see? added he, crying out, my Wife! At these words the Queen also having turned her head, did not see with less surprisal than he, the Duchess of Ostrog, and Count Topor coming out of the Chimney, with Count Tarnaw: They stood staring on one another without one word speaking, as if there had been a kind of Enchantment amongst them that had rendered them speechless. But their Souls did not express themselves the less, through their Eyes and Actions, each conveying their sighs on what concerned them most; above all the Queen, the Duchess, and the Duke, who being agitated with different sorts of Passions, had different Motions, which sometimes led them towards Jealousy, sometimes towards Shame. This dumb show was succeeded by another scene, which was no less troublesome, which began at the Kings entering: This Prince very much troubled at the Bishop's mischance, who he thought to be dead, had caused him to be taken up by his People which he had with him, and having given order to some body to take care of the unfortunate Prelate, and to put him without noise into some Chamber, not willing to lose one moment of time for fear of any surprisal, he caused two armed men to go before him, and advanced towards the Queen's Apartment. He went up the Gallery, of which he had a key; and causing his two Guards to stay at the door, he went into the Queen's Chamber. At first his Wonder was great, to find her in such company; but his Joy was not less; for he had no desire to find her guilty. That Princess, who had a Presence of mind most admirable, did no sooner see him, but running towards him; Ah! Sir at this hour to return so unexpectedly, doubtless that some extraordinary business has happened. The King was still so disturbed at the troublesome Distrusts which had brought him there, & especially at the sad sight of the Bishop of Cracovia, that he could not answer any thing to the Queen; which made that Princess to continue in this manner: You doubtless think it very strange, Sir, to see such Persons here, who according to a great deal of reason should not be together; But I was willing to end what I had begun; I thought, continued she, that I should do a thing which would please you, in reconciling the Duke and Count Tarnaw together, and I have taken the most interested Parties for witness. I have heard the Justifications of the accused; and finally they are all agreed. The King did seem to be well satisfied with that Accommodation, having no great difficulty of adding faith unto that which the Queen said, seeing that no Person in the Company durst contradict her: But for all that he had a design, to cause those three Lords to be arrested, if not on his account, at least on that of the Bishop's death, of whom he would know who was guilty; when one of his Servants came and told him, that the Bishop was better, and that his greatest hurt was his Ankle out of joint. This news having in some measure settled the King's mind, He appeared something more cheerful; but he being tired with his late journey, he would go rest himself, putting off till the morrow the further clearing of all that night's Adventures: The Queen followed him, and the rest of the Company went where they pleased; and I draw the Scene.  
FINIS.